Just Some Thoughts…

Hey, friends…so, I was thinking about Indonesia today and trying to get back into book-writing mode, and this story just clicked with where I am right now…I’m sure it will make it into the book, but I thought I’d share anyway. :)

When we lived in Indonesia, there was something I had to get used to in order to survive there. (Both mentally AND physically.)

I had to resign myself to the fact that when I walked along a street…which was most often a busy street…there would be motorbikes, angkots, cars, buses, carts, and sometimes even horses :) right next to me…often, whizzing by me. (Well, minus the carts and horses.)

And I mean right next to me. Like, within inches. Or less than that.

For someone culture-shocking…which was me the first three months we lived there…it can be overwhelming and scary. But eventually, this extrovert who cannot stay home and never go out accepted the fact that it was just life there.

And it became a normal part of life there as it does for everyone…but potentially a little too normal.

Fast forward two-plus years.

Several mornings a week I get up to run. My route is pretty set…I’m not a creature of habit; it’s just that my mornings are my time, and I’d rather lose myself in my world of worship than pay attention to where I’m going or potentially get lost. :)

One thing that bugs me…and I mean really bugs me…is the fact that when I’m running on the street, drivers go around me by, like, TWELVE feet. (I’m really not exaggerating here.)

I’m not a selfish runner. In fact, if I can get off the road and run in the grass, I usually will. I don’t want to be that pain-in-the-butt runner who hogs the road and makes traffic stop simply because she won’t move.

Recently I caught myself becoming annoyed with drivers who would either stop and wait ’til I passed or move waaaaaaaaaay over…because, to me, it’s perfectly acceptable for them to whiz by within a foot or so.

Oh, how Indonesia has altered my perspective.

As I was running this morning, I started to think about how easily I became accustomed the closeness of vehicles in Indonesia…despite the fact that the situation could be dangerous…or even deadly.

For me, it was just Indo-life, and I learned to make it part of the adventure rather than stress over it.

But as I thought about that more and more throughout the day, I started to wonder…

What kinds of things do I allow to become close to me? Are they things that don’t belong there?

It’s so easy to let that little sin that’s “really no big deal” creep in and become a normal part of everyday life, almost to the point of excusing it because that’s just the way it is…or, worse, not even realizing it’s there.

And while Indonesia driving might be an exception to the rule, there should never be an exception for sin.

I know I’ve got a few (or more) of those little things…things for which I make excuses because it’s just how it is. How I am. Wrong.

That was a challenge to me this morning.

So as I laugh to myself at the drivers who feel the need to put a football field between them and myself, at least I’ll have a good reminder…

To keep those things that are dangerous at a distance.

But, should you be one of the people who pass me in the morning, (hey, admit it, we’re practically friends by now!) just know that you can drive a little closer to me. You can even stop and say hi if you want. :)

Sig

Something Fun

So I’ve been having an I-miss-Indo month.

Lots of reminders here and there, I guess.

Anyway, I decided to look back through pictures, and I had totally forgotten about this.

In September ’09 we took a day trip to Jatiluhur, a lake that was about an hour from our house. (Lakes that are used for recreation are pretty uncommon in Indonesia.) It was a fun trip, and potentially the highlight (?) of the day was this.

A pedal-yourself roller coaster.

Seriously. You literally pedal yourself around on this teeny-tiny (really) track that wobbles a little too much for it’s own good.

Here we are…right before we started pedaling. I was convinced we might die. And had I known that Maelie was in my belly at the time (’cause she totally was!) I may have never done it.

This one is my favorite. See that group of people in the bottom right corner of the picture that seem fascinated with the coaster?

They’re really not.

They are, in fact, fascinated with the shrieking bule (white girl) who is convinced that this may be her last moment on earth, as she teetered helplessly far too high in the air. (Ok, so maybe I’m a tiny bit over-dramatic. ;))

At any rate, it sure made me smile to see these tonight…and say a thank-you prayer to God that I’m still alive. 😉

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Stay

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Stay

I’ve always been pretty cool with going places.

When the opportunity came up during my junior year of college to spend a month in Peru, I jumped at the chance.

And that was only the beginning.

Mission trips led to more of the same and eventually a long-term commitment of five years in Indonesia. Be still my heart, I still ache over missing it.

It seems like each event leading up to the now for us has always involved an obedience in being willing to go. And we were always willing to do just that.

So moving here…was different.

The way He brought us here was equally different.

We knew, this time, that it was time to dig those roots down. Maybe not permanently but definitely for an extended amount of time.

That was almost two and a half years ago. Golly, time flies!

And somewhere in all of the moving out of the transitory state of life and into something more stable, that little word crept into our lives and settled into our hearts.

Stay.

We have always had hearts to go. To tell. To love. To reach.

And now He has asked something different of us but no less important.

I believe my Father is teaching, and has yet to still teach, us some of the greatest lessons in obedience as we learn the contentment that comes from being satisfied in Him and in where He has placed us.

And the Truth of it is that nothing has really changed. He still wants us to Tell. Love. Reach.

But this time He wants us to Stay.

Five Minute Friday

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Roots

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Roots

Sometimes having a scattered life can lead to that feeling that there are no real roots. When pieces of existence span oceans and continents, knowing where exactly those roots are deeply planted is difficult.

The first decade was just that.

A cute little green house in a Twin Cities suburb. Job bouncing and church hopping, waiting for what He had for us.

We knew it was something, and it was.

Three years after we moved into that cute little house, whose color resembled that of pistachio ice cream, we pulled up the roots we’d put down, hopped on a plane, and flew to the other side of the world.

Those roots grew differently in the tropics.

Though we planted and watered, things just blossomed in a different way. Five years of wonderful and stressful, of stretching and challenging, of loving and living made us into different people. Gave us different worldviews, insights, and most importantly, lifelong friends.

And yet the roots were not to remain there forever.

Once more we pulled them up…strangely, far more painful than the first time…and moved them to an at-the-time obscure, almost-suburb of Chicago.

We planted them and we daily water them because, for now, this is where they should grow.

We have a daughter now, and she needs a place to call home. We are investing in the life around us, determined that these roots will stick no matter if there’s something next or if this is it.

And while, in this place, it is good to have roots and we love that they are planted here, my Father daily reminds me of something.

That this world is not my home.

As important as it is to have that place on earth to be my home, rooting myself in Him and His Word, His Promises, and His Love is what will truly bring growth.

My dear friend said it best in a song she wrote…

Lord, plant Your Word in my soul, only You make me whole.

Father, keep my roots planted in the right place.

Five Minute Friday

Sig

Five-Minute Friday: Look

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo at The Gypsy Mama for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

The rules: Write for five minutes. No editing, revising, overthinking, or backtracking. Just write.

Today’s Topic: Look

I’ll never forget the day.

The day that I. Just. Couldn’t. Look.

We’d been downtown shopping for jewelry supplies. It was the rougher part of town…the part where you’d see far too many children begging and the people who’d miraculously survived debilitating conditions…and he was one of them.

This man…the one I couldn’t bear to look at.

We’d just finished our purchases at the final store and were heading back to catch the city bus.

He was sitting…somewhat slumped…against the edge of a cracked and rotting pillar.

I’m sure I gasped audibly, for he was damaged. Scarred for life. Perhaps a fire or explosion. Whatever the case, it was bad.

And I just couldn’t look…couldn’t allow myself to see past his scars.

It broke my heart and made me question my Father at the same time.

Why him? Why? WHY, WHY, WHY???

He needed money, and my heart ached…shame mingled with sorrow…as I passed him by.

Not allowing myself to look.

I prayed for the next week, unable to shake his image from my mind.

For some reason we were back in the same area of town the following Saturday. I knew he would be there.

And he was.

And though it hurt and made the tears drip as I allowed myself to look at him, I reached into my purse. Took a bill large enough to feed him for the day. Gave it to him, making sure that my hand made contact with his. Whispered, God bless you. In English, not Indonesian.

A quiet, terima kasih, uttered from his lips.

And that was it.

A small moment of time, but a very powerful lesson.

The lesson that no matter who we are, where we come from, or what we look like, we all deserve to be noticed. Loved. Cherished.

I hope all of these things for this man.

Five Minute Friday

Sig

MoNDaY mOrnINg CofFeE LoVE

Clearly, from the title, I need a good dose of the stuff.

It’s 7:45 a.m., the girlie is still asleep, we’re almost packed for our trip, and YES.

I’m drinking coffee. :)

Mae and I are headed out to Iowa in a couple hours. (I’ll tell you more about that at the end.)

In the meantime, I am SO incredibly, super-excited that I finished packing for both of us by 9:30 last night. That, like, never happens. Of course, there are still the last-minute things, but I’m impressed with my organization/lack of procrastination. And that I’m sitting down to blog before we go! (That usually never happens before a trip, either!)

Though I did make myself get up early so I’d have time for it.

Oh, the commitment I have to this space. 😉

Ok, I’ll stop. Obviously, I should be chugging more coffee if that’s where my brain is right now. OY…

And as much as I want to go on and on this morning, I need to keep it short. Ish. I told myself we’d leave at 9, but that won’t happen. Does anyone else out there do that? I SAID 9, so we’d be out of here by 9:30. That should happen. I hope. :) Really not relishing the thought of hitting the afternoon rush in Des Moines, and I think if we leave by 9:30 and don’t make too many stops, we’ll be good. Rush hour + Mel = don’t mix.

We had a good weekend. It was Pumpkin Days at Immanuel, and of course, we took our girl. She’s been fighting a cold for a few days, so she was definitely not as crazy as she usually is, but she completely hearts bouncy houses, and she had a great time with that. She even joined some of her older friends in the “big kids” bouncy house with the slide. Tobin and I were amazed that she could climb up to the slide in there. Sigh…my girl is growing up way TOO fast! We’re glad she had such a good time, though.

In just a few, Maelie and I will be heading to Iowa for a few days. The purpose of part of the trip is so she can have grandma/grandpa time. :) We’ll spend the night there, and tomorrow morning I’ll leave her in Creston and head back to Des Moines for a couple days to see my two best friends. Hence, the other purpose…to help one of them pack to move back to Creston. She and her six sweet kiddos will be moving in just a few weeks. I’m sad for them…they’ve had such a hard year. Though the details don’t belong on the blog, please keep them in your prayers. :)

It will be fun to have a change of pace from my normal, though I’m sure I will miss my girl like crazy! I’m looking forward to reconnecting with them and just being the three stooges that we used to be. We really are a riot when we get together. :)

Along with that, I’ll be taking a hiatus from the blog for a few days. Even if I can carve out the time to write, I’m not going to. I know it will all be here when I get back on Thursday night! 😉

So, in the meantime, prayers are appreciated since, as most of you know, I completely love driving long distances by myself. (Well, with a toddler.) Please pray for safety and good mommy/daughter bonding time. We have lots of fun music, snacks, toys…hopefully it will be a good six/seven hours. :)

So, happy Monday and happy week, friends! Back soon. :)

Sig

An Impossible Perspective

I look around me and I wonder.

I wonder a lot of things.

I especially wonder why…why, in this beautiful tropical country, one where God’s fingerprints are everywhere, I still see such need all around me.

Not just physical, but emotional. Spiritual.

It’s as if the need has become too great and no one knows how to help.

Each day is the same for me.

I put on my one pair of tattered flip flops and trudge to the market.

I pass children in their school uniforms. Carrying backpacks with books. Pencils. Paper. They’re excited.

Oh, how I long to be one of them.

There’s so much to learn…do…see…discover. And I want to sit in a classroom and soak it all up right along with them.

I arrive at the market and find my father…the man who sells fish.

Sometimes he sells enough to provide for our family that day. Sometimes not.

But I help him. I love him and am so proud of him for doing what he can for our family.

That evening we go home. Short on sales that day, our family has a bit of rice for dinner. My parents are tired, worn out, discouraged…and we go to sleep early on the corner mattress we share.

I lie there in the dark…and I wait.

I’m waiting for something. Someone. I’m not sure what or who or how, but I pray every day that it will happen.

That someone will choose to help ME. That they will sacrifice a little so I can go to school. And wear red shorts and a white shirt and sit in a classroom and learn all I can. So my family can eat. So my parents can rest easy each night knowing that our basic needs are met.

Maybe they will even have enough energy to join me at church on Sunday.

It’s a beautiful dream and one that could come true, but I need that person. Someone to say, “Your life matters. You are worth investing in. And I want to be that person.”

It would truly change my life forever.

*********************

Sometimes, even as a writer, I find it impossible to fully find the perspective of someone.

A child waiting for a sponsor is one of those people.

It’s almost a place I don’t want to go. Most of you know that I’ve seen this very situation…walked right past it many times, I’m sure. I’ll never forget the sight of those students in their red shorts and white shirts on their way to school. And near them, the children who didn’t wear their school uniforms. Didn’t go to school…not because they didn’t want to but because they couldn’t afford to.

I saw need. In the eyes of those children whose lives were spent begging at the corner of Jalan Sukajadi and Pasteur. I wanted something different…better for them. I hope and pray that somehow they found it.

Tomorrow marks the last day of Compassion’s Blog Month. As of Friday, there are still over 400 children waiting for sponsors.

It’s never too late to change the life of a child.

Because every child deserves a chance.

Sig

Compassion…Change a Life

A few of you know that for several years, I’ve wanted to write.

That’s kind of been a bumpy road.

Finding a good fit for me has been hard. I wrote a few articles for a local online newspaper, but it wasn’t really my thing. (And I have a hard time sticking to a theme…hellOOOO! Just read the random of this place.) 😉

Several months ago, I decided that stressing over what might be next for me as far as writing (if there even IS anything) wasn’t worth it.

This blog is my space…my place. And in some very real ways, a piece of home. And so it’s where I’m staying. Just to do my own little thing.

However, one of my long-term dreams has been, for several years, to blog a trip for Compassion. For those of you unfamiliar with what that might entail, Compassion takes bloggers with them on their trips to visit sponsored children. Those bloggers are able to provide new perspectives because they are seeing and experiencing with new eyes and hearts.

I don’t make it much of a secret that I’d love to do that.

But that really can’t happen at the moment. For one thing, I have a two year-old girlie. My place is with her for now. And the bigger reason is they tend to choose bloggers who have higher amounts of traffic and comments. (That’s not a subtle hint. Or a not-so-subtle one, either. Just the facts. ;))

Last week I was browsing the Compassion site and came across something…

Want to blog for us?

Um, YEAH! (Pretty sure that was audible, though Maelie was the only one to hear it. :))

It turns out that Compassion is asking bloggers to write for them during the month of September to raise awareness and ask readers to consider sponsoring a child.

I can do that. In fact, I would LOVE to. :)

I can’t sit here and tell you that I understand the extreme poverty, hunger, and sheer need that these children face. Yes, I have lived near people very much in these circumstances.

But I have also never, ever been without. I have never been asked to enter in to the suffering experienced by so many children around the world. God has blessed me abundantly and given so much MORE than I could ever ask or imagine.

I honestly don’t know whose eyes see this. If my blog is anything like the many I read but don’t necessarily comment on, I could have a lot of readers.

Will you do me a favor?

First, leave a comment. I want to know you’ve been here. You can just say hi or tell me your favorite joke or compliment me on my awesome word usage. (Well, sometimes. ;))

Second, would you pray? For children around the world who are in life or death situations. Such a small amount of money each month would turn those situations around and give them HOPE.

Third, would you consider sponsoring a child? I can’t guilt you here. I can’t force it. Nor do I want to. But I can give you the opportunity to think about it. Pray and see what God might have you do.

I had this crazy, but super-cool, idea that it would be awesome if, through BarefootMel, I could get 100 children sponsored this month. (There are currently 3,108 waiting for sponsors. That’s a LOT!) All you have to do? Is click the button on my sidebar, pray through the children you see, choose one, and that’s that!

The lives of 100 kids changed forever. Or even MORE!

THAT’S something that can be done NOW. Love it.

I do want to point out that the blogger who gets the most children sponsored through his/her blog gets a spot on an upcoming Compassion trip as a blogger. That’s not why I chose to do this. It’s ultimately about seeing lives changed, and that’s what I want more than anything…just being up-front. :) But it would be pretty awesome to get to participate in a Compassion trip.

That’s all.

Oh! I almost forgot the best part…we have a new family member. :) His name is Putra, and he is a nine year-old boy from Indonesia. My husband and I decided we needed to finally put some walking with our talking. I have to tell you that I’m already in love, too. I can’t wait to share pictures with you!

Sig

Surrender

Today’s one of those days.

I’m gonna kick my shoes off (well, figuratively…I’m already barefoot ;)) and let myself feel and process and just be.

It’s been a long several weeks.

I don’t mean that in a bad way…there’s been a lot of good in those weeks. Like friends and church and VBS and birthday celebrations and farm trips and swimming and playing outside and just soaking up every ounce of summer as it swirls around us.

It’s one of my favorite times of year. (Though, admittedly, I don’t care much what season it is. I just kinda like life. ;))

It comes down to the fact that God has been doing some major twisting and turning in this heart…the one so open to Him yet so fully convinced that life will follow the plan it’s dreamed.

Tobin and I have both realized lately that we have no idea how to settle…and not just physically, though that is a part of it.

We drive down the roads and highways that have become so familiar and talk about how much we like it here. True. It is a good place. We are extremely aware of the permanent U.S. address we have that states Carpentersville, Illinois, and the plates on our vehicles bearing the image of Lincoln. We’ve joined a church, gotten involved, made friends. God has slowly woven this place into our hearts, the people here have become our family, and we love that.

And, yet, there’s a whisper that sometimes comes out as more a deafening cry than anything.

We’re waiting, God. What’s next?!?!

It isn’t a cry we purposely utter nor a sign of discontent at where He has placed us. The truth is that I don’t think on our own we could have found a better place to “land” after Indonesia.

It’s just that our hearts don’t know how to settle and be home, though we desperately want that.

We don’t understand the process of placing roots deep into the ground, though we desire that, not just for ourselves but for our daughter.

We don’t get what it is to stay because we are used to going. And two years in a place is about our average in our married life.

I have been praying for a long time that God would teach me what it is to slow down and be completely content with exactly what He has given. I’m not sure what I’m waiting for Him to do…He’s already given so much. Done so much.

I think what He is asking of me is surrender.

Not just each day…but each moment, each minute, each second.

And, since I’m pretty candid in this space, I’ll tell you that it scares me. Extremely.

As Christians, we (hopefully) walk around letting our lives speak for themselves about the hope we have in our Father because we’ve surrendered. And though I want that, I’m not sure I know how.

Because, for SO long, surrendering a life to Christ meant rule-following and what I term legalism.

I am so thankful we have moved past that and found grace and forgiveness…two things that dramatically changed our lives…and now we are learning that thing called surrender.

And? What it means to completely open our hands and let Him do His thing. 

His Way.

Not mine. His.

I was given a tangible glimpse into the heart of my Father this past weekend as I spent some time catching up with a friend. She has a special place in my heart for many reasons, but whenever I am with her, I leave our time together hungering to know Him better and to learn surrender. She has learned it, and is seeing some pretty awesome results from obedience and letting God work.

I am so excited for the new life she is about to begin on the other side of the world. I can’t wait to hear how He opens doors and provides and showers her with blessings.

He can do awesome things in a heart and life fully surrendered to Him.

I want that…it’s my prayer. Maybe it will become yours, too.

Just where I am tonight…thanks for being here. :)

Sig

Sweet Saturday

Ok, so this should be titled something like

The Post Where I Admit I’m Eating Taco Bell at 10:15 p.m.

Haha. 😉 Just so you know, confessions are good for the soul.

Here’s another.

It’s my first meal of the day. YIKES.

Part of that wasn’t my fault. After a wonderful, calorie-filled dinner out last night to celebrate my hubby’s birthday, I paid for it big time. I’m not sure what’s up with the digestive track these days or what I ate that my body completely hated, but my stomach was NOT happy with me and decided to let me pay the price from about 2-5 a.m.

Ugh.

Can we say that again?

Why, yes we can! UGH.

I’ll spare you the details only to say that I missed my Saturday morning run with my group and was pretty wiped out for most of the morning. (Though a caramel macchiato did help. Gee, I wonder why?!?!) 😉

It was a rough one.

But things got better around 11:00. I forced myself to get up and going for the day, and Maelie and I went to the mall with Tobin. He had an eye exam, and I needed body spray from Bath & Body. Hey, I really did need it…I ran out this morning. :) I was super excited that I managed to hit the huge sale they have every summer, too, without even trying. 75% off? Yes, please. Bottles of my two favorite scents for $6 total? Even more yes, please!

Mae and I browsed a bit after that. I need something to wear to a wedding in a couple weeks, but we struck out. Oh, well.

We came home, and two out of the three of us ate lunch. :) Then Mae and I went swimming. Or, more accurately, I walked around in the pool and tried to coax her to join me, but she wasn’t interested today. So we played in the backyard instead.

Around two, we headed downtown to meet a friend at Navy Pier. Our Indo-friend, Lindsey, is in town for a few days visiting her brother, and she took a few hours to spend with us. We LOVED catching up with her, sharing some laughs, hearing what God has been doing. She’s about to make a pretty huge move to the other side of the world, and it was such a blessing to hear all He’s done to bring her to that point.

Plus, we just loved seeing her.

Our too-short few hours together reminded me yet again of the bittersweet wonderful that is friendship. That, often, the joy-filled hellos lead to much-too-soon, teary see ya laters. But the truth is that when friends are that treasured, we’d drive twelve hours for five minutes. Really.

So we took what time we had and filled it with laughter and stories and Truth and watching a certain two-year old little girl charm everyone around her. We reminisced about beach trips, coffee shops and motorbikes and dreamed of the future and all it might hold.

Oh, I wish the best for her…and I can’t wait until the next time I can give her a hug.

God is so Good to give us the gift of friends.

 

Sig