A Perfect Christmas

Every year around Christmas time, I find myself trying to make everything "perfect".  And, I don't think I'm the only one.  We all worry about putting up perfect decorations, buying the perfect presents, making the perfect cookies, and blah, blah blah, blah blah.  And, for what?  It never turns out perfect.  Never.

But, we spend so much time every year trying to make Christmas perfect.  I went out into the madness on Christmas Eve Eve this week.  (Which should tell you something about me, too.)  And, it was crazy!  The mall was SO crowded, people everywhere.  I took my life in my hands just going Target!  And, yes, I stopped long enough to take pictures.  It made me stop and think.

CRAZY!!!

So many people...

And, more CRAZY!!!

Christmas is not about presents, food, decorations, Santa Claus, what your kids asked Santa for, all these sappy movies that turn into love stories, or any of that stuff.  Christmas is about a baby.  A baby that was born in the worst possible circumstances into a messed up world.  Christmas is about a baby that had to spend his first night laying in the place where barn animals eat.  Christmas is about a baby that some set out to worship, and some set out to kill.

That's what Christmas is about.  This baby with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes was Christmas.  This baby, with what I'm sure was a perfectly, cute nose, was Christmas.  And, He is still Christmas today.  It is because of a this perfect baby that we celebrate.  Merry Christmas!!

Battle

I've come to the realization recently that I've kinda had an attitude problem of sorts, since I've been home from East Asia.  Well, I guess that's what you could call it.  And, I just want to take a moment to apologize for that.  I'm sorry if I've come across the wrong way when I've talked to anyone in person or on the phone about my journey around the world.  It was never my intention to give the impression that I'm not incredibly thankful and grateful for the opportunity I've been given.  Also, it was never my intention to come across as being unhappy, angry, resentful, or any other negative adjective I can't think of right now.

But, I do want say a few things in regard to this problem I've been having lately.  I could sum it up in two words - the Enemy.  While I was gone and since I've been home, I've battled with him alot.  The Enemy had me convinced that nothing I did in East Asia was even worth talking about once I came home.  I realized recently that I've only shown pictures from my time away to one other person.  He has played so many mind games with me lately that it's ridiculous.  It was even worse while I was gone.  On a daily basis, I was beat down by this voice that said I was wasting my time.  The Enemy tried to convince me that everything I was doing was pointless.  He tried to tell me I was worthless and nothing I did was important.

So, here's a reminder to anyone reading this.  There is a battle going on.  It is not one of flesh and blood. But, it is very real.  The Enemy seeks to kill, steal, and destroy.  And, he is doing a darn good job of it.  His voice can be very convincing.  But, remember this.  He is a liar and a thief.  And, in the end, he will not win.  One day soon, he will get what's coming to him. 

Lean In

Last Thursday, I went to my first concert of the Christmas season.  It just so happened to be a Kari Jobe concert.  And, it just so happens that several of the songs she sings got me through many difficult moments in East Asia.  The words are so powerful and speak so much truth into my life.  On Thursday night, she came out on stage in a cute red dress and sang beautifully, as usual.  In the middle of the concert, she took a moment to talk about her own life and some difficult things she's experienced recently.  And, as she sat there and shared some very raw emotions, she said some things that spoke straight to me.  She said that sometimes our Father allows us to walk through things.  Things that don't make sense.  Things that are difficult.  And, often times, we don't know why.  Many times there are no answers, no explanations.  Her advice?  Well, in these times, she said there is only one thing we can do.  When there is no answer to our question of why, we have only one place to turn.  We need to lean into Him.  Press harder into Him.  We may never know why certain things happen or why He allows us to walk through difficult seasons.  We just need to lean into Him.  

Fruit Salad

This time of year always gets me thinking about food, of course!  The other day, I was thinking about fruit salad.  I don't know about other people's families, but I remember eating fruit salad on Thanksgiving every year.  When I was a little girl, making fruit salad was always my job.  Don't be too impressed.  Fruit salad is just cut up apples, oranges, and grapes mixed with Cool Whip.  So, there wasn't any cooking involved in making this dish.  It's just easy and good!

Most years, I made fruit salad with my Granny (my Dad's mom).  We would sit at a table and cut up the fruit together.  Some years, my Granny and my Memaw (my Mom's mom) made fruit salad with me.  And, on several occasions, I'm pretty sure I remember my Aunt 'Cil helping too.  She was my great aunt on my mom's side of the family.  Her full name was Lucille.  But, if you know anything about great aunts from Mississippi, you know it's not disrespectful to shorten their names.  That's just what she went by.

So, this year as we celebrate Thanksgiving, I'll be thinking about fruit salad.  For many years after those three wonderful women passed away, I kept making fruit salad.  But, I don't think I will this year.  Because really, it's not the fruit I miss.  It's them.  And, while it is hard not having them here with me and my family around this time of year, I am very thankful for the years I did have to spend with them.  And, I am very thankful for the memories I made with them and the impact they had on my life.  Happy Thanksgiving!!!

It's a butt-kicker!

This typically isn't one of those blogs where you can find yummy recipes, cool crafts, or suggested reading.  But, recently, I read a book called, Kisses from Katie.  And, it was for sure a butt-kicker.  It REALLY made me think about my life and how I've been living it.  If you're not familiar with this book or Katie Davis' story, let me give you a little background information.

The book you should read.  :)

Katie Davis is a twenty-two year old, single, white girl from Nashville, Tennessee.  She lives in Uganda, Africa, where she is in the process of adopting thirteen little girls.  She is also the founder and director of a non-profit organization called, Amazima.  This organization feeds and sends hundreds of children to school, carrying the financial burden for their parents or guardians.  She has also started a beading group for Ugandan women to earn an income through making magazine bead necklaces.  In addition, Katie has helped countless numbers of people by bringing them into her home, providing them with food, giving them medical attention, and offering a bath and clean clothes to wear.  Katie only attended college for one semester.  She doesn't have a degree or any type of educational or medical certification.  Yet, she is making a difference in the lives of so many.

This book just made me think.  Alot.  Why can't I do that?  Why couldn't my life look that?  No, I don't want TO BE Katie.  But, I want to live like she is.  I want to know when I go to bed each night that I did everything I could do to serve the poor, widows, and orphans.  Why don't more people live like this?  Why is her story such a rare thing in our society today?  I think I already know the answers.  But, it doesn't make me feel any better.  Anyway, you should read this book.  You won't regret it.  

Oh, you're home?

Yep, I'm home.  I'm here in Memphis, whether you like it or not.  (I'm just kidding!)  But, that is the reaction I have gotten lately.  And, I guess it's understandable.  But, while I'm on that topic, I just want to clarify a few things.  First, this was the plan all along.  I was supposed to come home for the holidays because the family I have been living with / homeschooling their children is going home to Brazil.  Sorry, if you were confused or really wanted to be rid of me for longer.  :)

Another thing is that some people think I was supposed to be gone to East Asia for a year.  You know like 12 months.  Well, that is not the case.  I committed to a school year, not a calendar year.  And, in addition to that, I am home now.  I may be home for 2 or 3 months.  I don't know at this point.  And, it really isn't up to me.  So, I'm sorry to disappoint you.  You can go ahead and stop counting the months.  I have.  It may not even add up to 9 months by the time it's all said and done.  And, I'm ok with that.  I hope other people can be too.

Allen, Emily, Carrie, me, Brian, Tracy, and Jennifer

Having said all that, I've been home for about two weeks.  And, it has been a little strange.  I was greeted at the Memphis International Airport late Tuesday night on November 1st by my parents and a group of my friends.  And, it was weird.  It was great, and I felt so loved and missed.  But, it was weird.  And, I just want to say a few things about that.  I am blessed beyond what I deserve.  I couldn't do anything I do without the support and encouragement of my friends and family.  I couldn't.  I couldn't be a teacher this year in Memphis without people in my life, who love and support me.  I think most people would say the same thing.  We were never meant to live this life alone.

Dad, me, Mom, and panda

I've learned so much over these few months that it is difficult to explain.  If you've talked to me in the past weeks, you've probably noticed that.  I apologize for not being able to effectively articulate what I've experienced or learned.  I just have so much going on in my mind.  And, no, I'm not saying I'm more intelligent than everyone else.  It's just that I believe something is happening in me, in my life.  I'm not sure what "it" is yet.  I believe this time, this "year" has really just been a test to see what I would do.  It has been a test to see if I would obey what was being asked of me.  And, because of this test and my obedience, I am trusting that I will see something bigger, the next step.

Be still and listen

Over the last week or two, I've really done alot of thinking.  I do alot of that anyway - thinking.  But, it's happened more so lately.  I've been thinking about this whole thing.  Whatever this "thing" is that I'm doing here.  And, I'm not sure all this thinking has gotten me anywhere.  So far, I have decided that I haven't been a good enough teacher, haven't learned enough of the language, haven't built enough relationships, haven't taught enough English, and haven't done anything really all that important.  It really is something I've struggled with on a daily basis here.  I don't feel like anything I'm doing is significant.

All this lead me to several places.  Last week, I had a very meaningful lunch with one of my friends here.  I say friend, but she is old enough to be my mother.  Her name is Jamye.  She is a cancer survivor, mom, wife, teacher, and mentor.  She is like the accountability / wise council / free therapy I didn't ask for, but have been given anyway.  She has been a great help to me.  She homeschooled all of her children, two of which are grown and living in the states now.  At lunch, we were supposed to be talking about homeschooling stuff and ended up talking mostly about me.  Jamye said many things I needed to hear.  Things I need to hear almost on a weekly basis.  She basically said that I need to learn to give myself grace.  I am willing to give grace to others.  But, when it comes to me, I have a very hard time giving myself grace.  She also pointed out that this time (right now) maybe more "about me" than I want it to be.  I may need to learn some things about myself that I have not been able to learn anywhere else.  And, for me, that was hard to hear.  I kinda already knew it, but it was still hard to hear.

Then, yesterday, I was talking to my Brazilian mom (who's not really old enough to be my mom) about similar things.  This was not the first time we have had this conversation.  While riding in a taxi home from buying a few groceries, I said, "I'm not doing anything important here."  Of course, she got that look on her face.  It's that look that I believe all mothers have.  That look like they see more of you than you yourself can see.  She reassured me for the hundredth time that what I am doing is very important.  And, I'm sure I looked back at her with unbelief all over my face.  Later on that night, she said, "Sara, what do you think is important?  You want to do something important.  What do you think is important?"  I couldn't really answer her.  I think I mustered an, "I don't know."

In all of this thinking, I have come to somewhat of a conclusion.  Now that I'm here, I realize my coming has not changed East Asia.  My getting on a plane and flying across the world did not actually change the world.  I have not done anything all that important.  Not only that, but my view of things is kinda skewed.  What is expected of me is really pretty simple.  I just need to obey.  That's what got me here in the first place. :)  My time here is not about how many "good things" I do.  It is not about meeting people's expectations.  It is not about feeling like my work is important.

My focus should be on Him.  In Him, I find my purpose and significance.  Anything I do in my own power and ability is meaningless.  I think I make it all too difficult.  All that is asked of me is that I obey.  I was never asked to change the world.  I was never asked to take on all the problems of the world and change it overnight.  I put that burden, that expectation on myself.  Not even He expects that out of me.  So. . . I am taking a deep breath.  I am stepping back (figuratively).  I am taking a little time.  And, I am trying to be still.  I am trying to listen and simply obey.

Nurse Jennifer

Well, that's what my dad calls her anyway.  He also calls her his other daughter.  Jennifer works in an emergency room as a pediatric nurse.  She loves children.  And, I have never known anyone, who has such a heart for working with kids.  When Jennifer meets kids, it's like she's wearing candy-scented perfume.  I'm serious.  It's crazy how children are drawn to her and how deeply she cares for them.  While I've never seen her in action at work, I can't imagine that you'd want anyone else taking care of your child.  In her job, Jennifer often meets people on the worst day of their lives.  Yet, I know she is there to comfort them regardless of the circumstances.

Me and my best friend

In addition to loving kids, Jen serves other people with a passion you won't find in anyone else.  It doesn't matter who you are or what the situation is.  You could just get sick on a trip with Jen.  And, you can count on the fact that she will lose sleep to take care of you.  You could be going through the deepest valley in your life, and Jen will find a way to help you look up out of it.  She will cook meals for you, leave flowers on your porch, write you notes, visit you in the hospital, drive long distances to see you, and do almost anything to let you know she cares.  She will be there for you in any and every way possible.  And, if you're one of her family members, you should know you basically just won the lottery.  She will be there for you like no other daughter, sister, sister-in-law, granddaughter, niece, cousin, or future-aunt.  I've seen Jennifer care for her family.  I've stood in hospital rooms, nursing homes, and memorial services with Jen.  Even when she has cared for her family until the end, she honors them in their death.  She puts her whole self into it.  She loves and serves until it hurts.

So, as Jennifer's best friend, I know what it is to know her.  She has been there for me whenever I needed her.  She has supported and encouraged me to no end.  (One blog post doesn't begin to cover it.)  She has become a part of my family.  We've lived life together.  We've gone through many difficult things together.  We've dreamed big dreams together.  I normally talk to her on a daily basis.  We spend alot of time together.  And, being here without her is very difficult.  I miss her terribly.  (Of course, she's not the only one I miss!)  It sucks actually.  I really hate that part of it.  I think about her every day.  I think of things I would tell her, if I could just pick up the phone and call.  And, really, I don't care if people think I'm pathetic for that.  You can think what you want to think.  I'll just say this much.  If you haven't met or known Jennifer, you have no place to judge me.  You don't even know what you're missing.

Foregoing Fall

For the last few days (maybe weeks), I've been thinking about fall in Memphis.  I've reminisced over all the memories of this time last year.  And, I am missing fall.  Fall is my favorite season.  I love the colors of the trees and the crisp autumn air.  I love the crunch of leaves under your feet.  I love warm drinks and how I think they actually taste like fall.  I love the way a scarf feels around your neck.  I love bonfires and roasting marshmallows.  I love hayrides and looking at the stars.  I love carving pumpkins and seeing other people's creativity in that.  I love dressing up at the close of October and passing out candy to cute kids.

But, this year is much different than all my autumns before.  I will miss so many things.  I will miss going to the pumpkin patch with the cutest, red headed, little girl I've ever seen.  She calls me Aunt Sara.  (It's an honorary "aunt thing", but important just the same.)  I will miss taking pictures of her and stuffing a scarecrow together.  I will miss carving pumpkins with my friends.  I will miss long conversations with some of my favorite people over steaming cups of warm apple cider and pumpkin spice lattes.  I will miss planning my costume with friends for the best fall festival on earth and trying to top last year's idea.  (Please see picture to the right.  Yep, we WERE the Wizard of Oz).  I will miss so many things.

I am, however, trying to see the bright side of this.  So, do not be mislead.  I am not foregoing fall.  No, it is just different this year.  While I will miss my Memphis fall, I am determined not to miss it altogether.  This will be my first East Asian fall.  People here are already big fans of two of the official colors of fall - red and yellow.  So, that's good.  If I have to buy an Asian pumpkin to carve, I will.  If hot, spiced tea is the best drink I can find, it will have to do.  And, if I am the only one to dress up and pass out candy, it will be ok.  I am betting I can find some pretty cute kids to join in.  But, I refuse to miss fall.

Language Barrier and Frustration

I've been going to language classes since the beginning of September.  (I realize that's not a long time.)  Yesterday, during class, I was attempting to learn the pronunciation of some new words.  I became very frustrated very quickly.  Let me try to explain.  In this language, there are many complicated things to learn.  There is a system called Pinyin.  It is equivalent to the alphabet in the English language.  Also, there are characters.  These are symbols or the actual written language.  Characters are like pictures that represent words.  Currently, I am trying to learn Pinyin.  In addition, the language is tonal.  There are four tones and one neutral tone (or so I thought).  When you read words written in Pinyin, the tone marks are written above the words.

As I was trying to learn the new words, my teacher began to explain that they are written in third tone.  But, the words are not pronounced in the third tone.  What?!?!  Hold on.  Then, why are they written to make you think you are supposed to pronounce them that way?  In the words of my teacher, "That would be too much work."  She demonstrated.  In the third tone, your voice starts at a high pitch, goes down, and back up again.  So, a long word with three third tone marks over it is very tiring to pronounce.  After she demonstrated, she said, "See.  That sounds weird.  No one will say a word like that."  Of course, this set me into a rage.  I contained myself fairly well though.  :)

The problem is that I see things in black and white.  I don't know why.  It probably has something to do with my type A personality, perfectionist tendencies, and desire for things to be neat and orderly.  It bothers me that this language doesn't always make sense.  It bothers me that its native speakers don't even understand it.  It also bothers me that I continue to keep meeting foreigners, who speak the language fluently.  Not to mention, the others who speak three and four languages fluently.  People, like that, just generally tick me off.  It irritates me how they can switch back and forth between three languages with such ease.  I feel stupid around people like this.  And, before coming here, I considered myself to be a fairly educated person.

But, this is what I know.  I need to be more patient with myself.  I need to realize that this stuff doesn't happen overnight.  It takes years of hard work and practice.  For many, it takes alot of sweat and tears.  I need to not be afraid to mess up.  I need to remember that every language has its quirks, especially English.  To me, it makes sense.  But, to most people, it is quite difficult (even for native English speakers).  And, many times, even I (the English major, English teacher, grammar guru, wanna-be writer) cannot explain it.  Sounds familiar, now that I think about it. 

A Few Firsts

Over the weekend, I decided I would be adventurous and go somewhere new - by myself.  (I know it's earth-shattering news, right?)  But, there are many issues for me when I go places alone.  I can't speak the language, have no idea what the street names are or how to pronounce them, and am generally just bad with directions.  So, anyway, I had planned to meet up with some new friends for dinner.  (The first time I've hung out with people my own age since I've been here.)  I ended up getting off the bus several stops too soon.  So, I decided I would walk down the street and try to figure out where I was.  That obviously didn't work.  I called my Brazilian mom and asked if she could help me.  Of course, I had no idea where I was or how to explain it.  She told me to hand the phone to someone, who was working in one of the stores nearby.  After thinking about it for a few minutes and how dumb I would look, I finally did just that.  I met one guy, who spoke a little English.  He was trying to buy something (poor guy).  So, he talked on my cell phone, and the lady working there talked on my cell.  I called the girls I was supposed to be meeting for dinner.  Finally, I realized two things.  The guy, who spoke a little English, had just moved to this city.  And, I should get back on the bus and keep going a little further.  I made it successfully to dinner, ate a real hamburger and fries, and had great time.

That was Saturday night.  On Sunday afternoon, I went to tutor my new student, Frank.  (That's not his real name.  All the people here give themselves American names, so it is easier for people like me to pronounce.)  It was only our third time meeting.  Frank is 15 and knows much more English than he lets on.  The first time I went to his house, his mother practically shoved me into his room.  She told Frank to speak English with me.  She wanted to close the door, but again my Brazilian mother didn't let that happen.  The second time I went to his house, I sat on the couch between Frank and his mother the entire time I was there.  His mother kept trying to understand what we were saying.  She would type words into her cell phone and show them to me in English.  She kept finding more books to help us study.  It was pretty funny.  On this, our third meeting, I still wasn't sure what I would "teach" Frank.  I tried using a book I thought would be challenging for him.  But, he knew all the answers.  Finally, we decided to use a book and video program his mother bought.  We watched an episode of the video about some American chick named Rebecca.  After the episode, I went through the corresponding section in the book.  Frank had to answer questions about the video.  It was much more challenging for him.  He said the people talked too fast.  (Welcome to my life, Frank!)

The point is this.  I am experiencing many firsts here.  I am trying to be more independent and go and do things on my own.  It is not always easy.  I do not always enjoy being the entertainment for other people around me.  But, there is something to be said for the feeling I get from actually succeeding.  It's kinda empowering.  Also, I am trying to teach English as a second language for the first time.  I have no idea what I'm doing!  But, it's fun trying.  And, really, I could care less if Frank's English improves.  I have much more important things to talk to him about.  :)

Looking in the Mirror

Teachers have a very difficult job, but it is the little moments that get them through each day.  Last week, I had one of those moments.  I had been struggling to understand my younger student's attitude toward school.  So, on Friday, it all came to a screeching halt.  K had a quiz that I had told her about and given some review to help her study.  I asked her to get out the work, so we could go over it.  We went over the answers, and they were wrong.  So, I asked her if she used her book to find the answers.  And, she said no.  I asked her if she asked anyone for help.  And, she said everyone was busy.  I asked her why she didn't ask me for help.  And, she didn't have an answer.  

K and me

Finally, I said, "Those are all excuses, K.  And, I won't accept excuses from you.  I live here.  There is no reason why you can't ask me or someone else for help."  Her eyes changed.  I said, "What's wrong K?  You don't have a good attitude.  You aren't doing your work.  You won't ask for help.  You aren't trying."  And, the tears began to flow.  I continued to push.  K said, "I'm not smart.  I can't make good grades.  I fail everything."  I know my eyes changed after that.  Something inside me snapped.  I looked directly into her beautiful brown eyes.  I said, "K, you are smart!  You are very smart.  But, you are not even trying.  What do you think I expect out of you?"  K said, "You expect me to make A's."  I said, "No.  I expect you to do your very best.  It may be hard for you.  You may study and only make B's or C's.  But, if you do your very best, that is all anyone can ask of you."  Her face changed.  We talked in this circle for a long time.  Finally, I said, "So, will you promise to try, K?  Will you do your very best?"  She said she would and seemed shocked at what I had told her.

I know that whole conversation was probably confusing.  It probably wasn't as heartbreaking to you as it was to me.  But, as I sat and looked at K across the dinner table, I realized two things.  I realized that some teacher somewhere along the way told her that she was trash.  Some teacher told her that she wasn't good enough or smart enough.  Some teacher told her that she was stupid and would never make good grades.  And, somewhere along the way, K began to believe that about herself.

The other thing is that K often compares herself to other people.  She puts herself down.  Teaching K is like looking in the mirror everyday.  She reminds me so much of myself.  I have a huge problem with the same issue.  Mine is much worse than hers though.  And, since I've been here, it has been pointed out to me on a weekly basis.  I have heard about it in every weekly meeting that I've gone to here.  I've heard about it from other people, who have just met me and notice it.  I even heard about the week before I left to come here.  If I have to hear one more thing about self-worth, confidence, or accepting grace, I'm going to scream!  I get the message.  Loud and clear.  I have a problem with thinking I am not good enough.  I decide I can't do something before I even try it.  I expect to do things perfectly the first time.  I am very hard on myself.  I am my own worst critic.  I am aware.  On a daily basis, I am aware.  And, every day as I tell K she can do it and she is smart, I am also telling myself.  I am trying to work on it.  It is not easy.  And, it will not change overnight.  I will always struggle with this.  But, I am trying to change.  I am.

Elevation and Fear

For starters, I would just like for it to be known that I am VERY frustrated with the internet here.  I have lots of pictures I would like to share and tell you about, but that it is next to impossible currently.  Just to give you an idea . . . the options and headings on this page are written in a different language.  It is the fourth different language I have seen this week, including English.

This week has been an interesting one.  I had my first language class on Monday.  It was way better than I expected it to be, as most things are.  My teacher is very nice.  She is probably around my age or a little younger.  And, she is very patient with me.  She has no idea what she's gotten herself into.  :)  I will have lessons three days a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.  Each lesson is an hour and a half long.  I am trying it out for the month of September.  Oh yeah, I almost forgot.  I take the bus there and back by myself.  I took a bus somewhere by myself last week for the first time.  Not an amazing accomplishment, but I was kinda proud of myself.

the view from the school where I take language classes

For your free fact of the day, I thought I would give you a little lesson on elevation.  The city I am living in is much different from what I'm used to.  This city is at an elevation of 6,207 feet above sea level.  Whereas, Memphis is 331 feet above sea level.  Soooo, that explains alot about how I feel here sometimes.  It is very important to drink lots of water here.  Otherwise, you are more likely to suffer from symptoms of altitude sickness.  For me, if I don't drink enough water, I tend to feel dizzy and lightheaded.  Also, there is very little moisture in the air here.  So, your skin and hair become dry easily.  I'm sure you wanted to know all that.  :)

And, as for fear, I just wanted to say a few things about it.  Before I came here, I allowed fear to fully overwhelm me.  And, it did.  I cried so much the week before I left that it was ridiculous.  Fear had such a grip on me that I became physically ill.  My stomach was in knots, and I couldn't eat.  I couldn't even sleep.  And, if you know me, you know that's not normal.  I actually had to take a sleeping pill the night before I left.  Crazy!  But, I am here now.  And, it is not always easy.  Every day is not like a Hallmark movie.  It is often quite challenging and difficult.  But, all the fears I had before I came are gone.  None of them came true.

Fear is stupid.  It is.  Fear can paralyze a person, if they allow it to.  Fear can keep people from fully being who they are.  Fear can cause people to doubt and question.  Fear can prevent people from taking risks and doing what they know they're supposed to do.  Fear can be powerful.  But, we are the ones who give it power. 

A Triangle

I'm probably going to get in trouble for posting this picture of me and my parents.  But, I'm so far away I'm gonna go ahead and chance it.  We are not all three die hard Packer fans, as it would appear in the picture.  I just think this picture is really funny.  And, I'm so glad I talked my parents into taking it.

Anyway, many people have been asking me how my parents are doing with me gone.  And, it's funny because not many people ask me how I'm doing being away from them.  To answer the question though, I think we're all just doing this.  I really can't answer for my mom and dad.  But, for me, I just take one day at a time.  And, it is not always easy.  I really love and miss them.

I've told my mom and dad before that we are not like other families.  Other families are not as close as we are.  Other families don't sit down to dinner together almost every night and talk about their day.  Other people don't talk to their parents about life like I do.  And, I think I know why.  We are like a triangle.  A triangle can't be a triangle without three sides.  The three sides lean on each other or they end up being some unrecognizable object.  That's how we are.  And, although my parents and I are far away from each other, we are still connected.  The triangle is not broken or bent.  It is not in disrepair.  The triangle has just grown.  Alot.  And, even though I am missing my two sides because we are so spread apart, they are not gone.  They are very much with me.  And, I am very much with them.  Nothing can break or knock down this triangle because all three sides are leaning on each other.

13 hours ahead

I am having major problems with the internet lately.  So, I am writing this from a different computer.  I just wanted to share a few thoughts this time without pictures, although I have plenty of those too.

There's something I've been thinking about alot lately.  And, it is the 13 hour time difference between where I am and home.  I am 13 hours ahead.  That's like a whole day.  So, at night here before I go to bed, I am thinking of the many people that I love and care for.  And, as I am thinking of you, you are just starting the day I've already lived.  It's kinda crazy, huh?

So, here's what I wanted to tell you.  You may be facing something difficult today.  You may be met with trials.  There may be something or someone that will push you beyond what you think you can bear.  You may not even want to wake up to start the day.  There may be situations in your life that are bigger than you.  You may be overwhelmed and feel defeated.  You may not have the answers or know what today holds.  Today may be filled with joy or sadness.  I don't know what today will hold for you.  But, I do know this.  It all turns out ok.  Trust me.  I made it through the day you're just beginning.

Pizza Hut, Wal-Mart, and the First Day of School

Last weekend, I went out to dinner for some pizza.  We went to Pizza Hut.  But, let me tell you, it was much different than any of the ones I've ever been to.  Pizza Hut here in East Asia is like going to a five star restaurant in America.  The inside of this place was pretty fancy.  And, they served much more than pizza.  The menu had so many different sections I couldn't believe it.

On Monday, we started school.  For those who didn't know, that is what I'm doing with much of my time here.  I'm attempting be a homeschool teacher to two wonderful students.  I was very nervous and dreading it all day and night Sunday.  But, now, we can say that we successfully finished our first week of school.  And, no, it was not easy.  But, I am learning along with the girls.  I am learning more and more about myself as a teacher and a person.  I'll let you know more about that later.

After we finished school on Monday, we went to Wal-Mart to buy a few school supplies.  The Wal-Mart here is much different than the ones in America.  It has four floors and escalators.  When you get a shopping cart, you can push it onto the escalator.  The wheels are metal with groves that connect to the escalator.  You don't even have to hold onto your basket!  There are many different things to be found in this store.  And, I documented some of those things for you.

The oil aisle.  They use alot of oil in the cooking here.  Appetizing . . . right?

Oreos.  Bet you've never seen double berry creme filling or orange/lemon filling!  And, yes, those are more flavors in the background.  I had to leave that aisle quickly.  :)

Here we are riding the escalator down to the first floor on our way to catch the first bus home.

Lastly, I came down with a hacking cough, stuffy nose, and the voice of man on Monday morning.  So, I thought I would share with you what I've been taking - East Asian cough syrup, Tylenol Cold, and Golden Throat Lozenges.  They seem to be working.  So, hopefully, I'll be better soon!

Minority Park, Lunch, and Rush Hour

On Friday, I had the opportunity to go to a place the foreigners here call "Minority Park".  It is very much a tourist attraction.  And, it is safe to say I was the only American there.  It's sort of like an outdoor museum.  There you can walk around and learn about the 26 different minority groups of this region of East Asia.  There are 26 stops where you can see each group's type of house, how they lived, what they ate, the clothes they wore, and their individual beliefs and traditions.  I took lots of pictures, so I will only be able to show you a few.

This is an example of a Buddhist shrine.  An entire room of the home was dedicated to this specific purpose.

This lady was making one of minority group's traditional type of food.  I tried it with chop sticks and everything.  It is a type of cake / dough.  She was making some with brown sugar inside and some with sweet meat.

The building in the background is one of the traditional houses.  There was another lady inside making potato pancakes.

This is one example of the traditional dress for men, complete with some type of instrument.

This was the outside of the restaurant where we ate lunch.

This is what most of the place settings in restaurants here look like.  Everything comes packaged in plastic, and you have to unwrap it.

The dish on the left is potatoes with red and green bell pepper and mint.  Yes, mint.  I'm not a big fan of mint with my potatoes.  :)  On the right, this is fish with pepper and other spices.

This is Marcy.  She invited me along for the day.  She is a Brazilian friend, who studies language and was interested in learning more about the different dialects of some of the  minority groups.  She had just opened a piece of bamboo.  Inside, you can see the rice we were eating.  It was sticky rice with peanuts.

This was a show we were able to catch toward the end of the day.  There is a lady dressed to represent each of the 26 groups.  

By the end of the day, we were very tired.  Unfortunately, we chose to leave around 5:30 in the evening.  We didn't realize we would hit rush hour traffic.  After a long bus ride and two taxis, we finally made it.  The first taxi driver said he knew where to go, but he took us to the wrong complex.  Once we got to the right complex, we got turned around and it took a while to find the right building.  After two hours, we finally arrived.

The Market

On Tuesday, I was able to go to an open market across the street from where I am staying.  I was interested to see if it would be like others in different places I have visited.  And, it was.  It was not as crazy and crowded as I expected it to be.  It may have had something to do with the time of day.  I'm not sure.

Here are some pictures of what I saw there.  I think this lady is packaging individual portions of tofu to sell.

This lady if cutting up chicken like it did something to her.  Maybe this is their version of anger management.  Notice, you can buy a whole chicken if you like (bottom left-hand corner).

And, you can buy almost every vegetable imaginable here.  The big, oversized, watermelon-looking thing is some type of squash.  Really big squash.

You can also buy bread and pastries here.  We bought some of these little cakes.  They are flaky, sweet, and taste like honey.  Maybe sometime, I will take you to Wal-Mart or downtown to go shopping.  :)

Sky diving

Well, I just want to start by saying this is the first time I have been able to access my blog.  The internet here is finicky.  And, everything on this page is in characters, except what I am typing.  So, I may not be able to update as often as I would like to.

I'm finally here, as I am sure you may have guessed.  My long journey here was not without complications.  But, it could have been much worse.  I flew from Memphis to Chicago.  From Chicago, I was supposed to have a thirteen hour flight.  But, instead, we started it off by sitting in the plane for two hours due to complications with some of the passengers.  Because of this delay, I missed my next flight.  I had to navigate an airport I had never been in and figure out how to catch the next flight out.  But, finally, I made it to East Asia.

As far as adjusting, I adjusted quickly in the physical sense.  The thirteen hour time difference between here and home is a little complicated, but my body is used to it now.  Emotionally and mentally, however, I  am not as adjusted.

Before I left, I told some of my close friends that I feel like I'm sky diving.  I just jumped.  I have no idea what I'm doing or if it's right.  Every other moment, I question whether or not I can do this.  I wonder if I am supposed to be here.  I wonder if this isn't some terrible mistake.  Maybe there has been a mix-up and I shouldn't be here.  And, although everyone else is convinced this adventure is right for me, I am still waiting to land.

Please don't misunderstand what I'm saying.  I know I am privileged to be doing what I'm doing.  I know this is an incredible opportunity.  So, right now, I am trusting that this is where I am supposed to be.  I am trusting that this may not be easy or fun.  It may difficult and painful.  The chipping away and molding that needs to be done in me will hurt.  It already does.  But, I'm trusting that I will not come back the same girl who left Memphis early one hot August morning.

As for new experiences and things I have seen, I promise many of those are coming.  And, pictures will follow as well.  Here's a quick one just for now.  I was riding on a bus today and felt something wet hit my foot.  It was a baby peeing on the bus.  Nice.  Right?  How's that for potty training?

Loved

What a day! It was way more intense than I expected it to be - in a good way.  And, just for a random fact, I can cry better, faster, and longer than anyone I know.  I mean just when I think there are no more tears; more start to flow.  When I cry as much as I have been lately, it means that something much greater is taking place in me.  It means that I have no words to fully express how I feel and that I know what I'm doing is right.  It means that someone else is running my life.  It means that I have finally stopped trying to do this thing on my own and chosen to follow much greater plans than I could have imagined.  So, really, the tears aren't bad.  They are an outward expression of something happening on the inside.

Even though I really don't have the words to express how I feel,  I will try anyway.  I felt loved today.  I felt loved through hands on my shoulders and other people's tears.  I felt loved through words of affirmation that I'm not alone and many other people are with me in all of this.  I felt loved in cheek kisses and big, like-you-mean-it hugs.  I felt loved in perfect strangers letting me know they're for me and not against me.  I felt loved in people spending time, effort, and sweat on me.  I felt loved through paper sacks, lit with candles, lining a walkway.  I felt loved through paper lanterns, streamers, and a banner.  I felt loved through bursts of yellow and red.  I felt loved through people lying to me and keeping secrets (believe it or not). I felt loved through hot July hugs and pictures.  Lots of pictures.  I felt loved through letters and gifts.  And, I felt loved with a love that I don't deserve.  

That's what I kept thinking ALL day and night on this day.  I don't deserve any of it.  There are so many times when I let down the very people that I love.  I disappoint and discourage the people I love.  I make promises I don't keep.  I hurt people with my words and actions.  Sometimes, I tear people down instead of build them up.  And, it is usually the people I love most that I hurt the worst.  I don't deserve that kind of love.  

But, that's the thing I'm learning about love.  And, it is a good lesson to learn.  Love, real love, is unconditional.  It is extravagant.  It knows no bounds.  It keeps no record of wrong.  And, it is undeserved.  So, for those of you who loved me today and will in the days to come, thank you.  I couldn't do this without you.  And, it means more than you know.  

Crazy

That's what I must be - crazy.  This is the heap of books that arrived at my house today.  When I saw them packaged in FOUR boxes, I freaked out.  Of course, the teacher in me had to double check and make sure I had all the items I was supposed to have.  And, believe it or not, there is one book missing.  CRAZY!!!  That's what I am.  What am I thinking?  I have no idea what I'm doing or how I'm getting all these books and my own belongings to the other side of the world.  But, it's happening.  Somehow.

Speaking of crazy, that's what I've been thinking a lot lately.  This whole thing is crazy.  And, yet, I'm still going.  I don't say that to make myself sound better than anyone else.  If you knew how many times a day I cry or quesion whether I'm doing the right thing, you wouldn't think very highly of me.  I'm going because I know I'd be miserable if I stayed here.  I know this coming school year would be the worst of my life, if I didn't do this.  Whatever "this" is.  I'm still not sure.  So, I'm hoping people don't get annoyed when I can't explain myself very clearly.  When I understand it all and have the words to explain it, believe me - I will.  But, right now on this side of things, I don't.  It's just a little crazy.

Worry

When I was in elementary school, I had to take one of those dreaded standardized tests.  I don't remember what grade I was in or how old I was.  But, I remember the day of the test.  I had worried myself sick about that day.  As we were about to begin the test, I got sick.  I threw up all over my papers and desk. 

I'm a worrier.  I have been for as long as I can remember.  I worry about lots of things.  And, when I can't think of anything to worry about, I worry about that.  I've been worrying alot lately.  I worry about this journey I'm trying to take.  I worry about what I will pack.  I worry about traveling alone to a place I've never been 7,000 miles away.  I worry I will not be able to learn the language.  I worry I won't be equipped to teach the children I've been entrusted with.  I worry I'm not good enough for the opportunity I've been given.  I worry I'll feel alone and not be present where I am.  I worry that I'm disappointing people.  I worry that I'm a failure because I don't have a well established career.  I worry that life will happen while I'm gone.  I worry that I'll be replaced.  I worry that I'll be forgotten.  I worry that no one will notice when I'm gone, because I wasn't doing anything meaningful while I was here.  I worry.

And, in all of this, there comes a point when I have to stop and breathe.  And, that's when I realize.  I get NOTHING accomplished by worrying.  It is a waste of time and energy.  By worrying, I am actually saying that I am in control.  My life is not my own.  I don't run the show.  So, I'll put all these things I try to control in hands that are much bigger than mine.  I'll let much stronger shoulders carry the weight of what is to come and how things will turn out.  Tomorrow, I'll have to do it all over again. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after. . .

It's official

Some of my friends and family have assured me that they would read a blog, if I created one for the next phase of life I'm about to embark upon.  So, let me begin by saying something.  It is your choice to read this blog.  It's more for me than it is for anyone else.  You may not agree with the things I say here.  And, that's ok.  But, remember, noone forced you to read this. 

Today, I learned that my adventure to East Asia over the next year is really about to happen.  In a matter of weeks, I'll be leaving.  I wasn't sure how I would feel when I realized this was really happening.  But, today, that feeling happened.  I held a copy of my flight itinerary in my hand and just looked.  I looked at the dates, times, and destinations.  And, then, I looked at the calendar.  It's weeks away.  Weeks.

Lately, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel.  Most of the time, it feels like I'm already gone.  I'll be with a group of people.  Someone will mention upcoming plans or events that will take place.  And, then, they look at me and say, "Oh, you won't be here then.  Will you?"  I'm not sure how to respond to that.  I know noone means anything by it.  But, I have to admit.  It feels a little strange.  I mean let's just be honest.  I'm not dying or going somewhere to die.  I'm just leaving for a season.  And, while I want to be here and not miss out on living life with the people I cherish most, I kinda want to be somewhere else.  I want to be there already and stop just talking about it.  I want to have a place and a purpose.  I want to not be somewhere in the middle. 

In the meantime, however, I'll take these weeks I have left.  And, instead of reading too much into what people say or what they mean by it, I'll just be.  I'll try to be in the moment.  I'll soak up every minute with friends and family.  I'll be here.  Because I know, I'm here right now for a reason.  And, when it's time, I'll be somewhere else.  Because, in case you didn't know, it's official.