Shaken…but Secure

The news about the earthquake, tsunamis, death, and devastation in Japan and other places…it’s all too much to take in, isn’t it?

Last night I was up too late (as usual) and caught a status update from a college friend who lives in Tokyo. He was stuck in his building while the 8.9 quake shook the city.

His status simply said, “It is really shaking.”

It brought back so many memories.

And not necessarily good ones…ones that make my stomach turn and my heart pound…again, even a year and a half later.

The day was Wednesday, September 2, 2009…a little before 3:00 in the afternoon.

I was relaxing upstairs in our bedroom with the balcony door open before I had to begin my afternoon tutoring about twenty minutes later. I remember hearing the leaves of the palm tree in our front yard swishing in the wind and being thankful for a breeze despite the hot, humid weather that came with dry season.

What happened next was something out of a movie. It was almost as if I stepped out of reality and watched myself experience it all.

I heard a loud noise and things started to shake. We’d been in smaller earthquakes before, but this one…was Big. I could see the walls shaking. I immediately ran for the doorway and stood there for a few seconds before deciding to brave the stairs to get outside. I’m pretty sure my feet didn’t hit the tile at all as I flew down them.

Things were shaking so badly that I began to envision the house falling on me.

That was the first time I felt the panic rise within me.

Then I got to the front door and realized I had bigg

er problems. The latch on the screen door had broken that day and wouldn’t open from the inside; therefore, I couldn’t get out. In fact, the only way I could get out of the house was to go find the keys (and when do I ever know where my keys are?!) and let myself out through the garage door. I didn’t know if I had time for that.

So I tried to punch through the screen door to reach the handle on the outside.

By this time the neighbors were starting to congregate in the street.

I started to scream.

Buka! Buka!

Open! Open!

I know they heard

the panic in my voice.

But I had two golden retrievers right next to me, just as anxious to get out of the house.

Looking back, it must have been the dogs…the reason several of them looked at me but wouldn’t come up to the front door.

Finally, a neighbor, a single guy in his 20’s, ran up and opened the door so we could get out.

Andre and Sammy sprinted to escape.

(I sometimes wonder if dogs understand far more than we give them credit for.) Thankfully they came when I called and sat down next to me in the front yard.

It had been less than a minute since the earthquake began…and then, I finally let the tears fall.

I had left my hp (cell phone) in the house, so when things stopped shaking, I ran back inside to grab it. I was able to get through to Tobin long enough to find out that everyone at school was okay.

Initial reports said the quake was around a 7.3 about 60 km south of us. So it was pretty big. The death toll I think was around 80, and while tsunami warnings were issued, nothing happened.

It was a scary time…and even after, there were many nights when I let my mind wander back to what we had experienced that day. It made me thankful that, somehow, our house had held up through the quake, even though it was lacking in quality.

There were a few more cracks in the walls…reminders.

Reminders that God was there with us that day in His All-Powerful, All-Present,

All-Knowing way.

I had been shaken…but I knew I was secure in His hand.

Though our experience was not the magnitude of what those in Japan and other countries are facing today, He still made His presence know.

He held us each in His palm.

Yesterday, Jap an was rocked with

an earthquake bigger than anything I can imagine. People are dead, injured, physically and emotionally scarred. Lives changed in an instant.

But God was still there…still All-Powerful. Still All-Present. Still All-Knowing.

As these people begin to sift through what’s left, let’ s keep them in our prayer

s. Let’s not only pray for physical healing and restoration but also that they will come to know the Father through this.

That they will feel His presence and know that He’s right there with them.

That though they have been shaken, they will feel secure in the palm of His hand.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling…Come, behold the works of the Lord, how he has brought desolations on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire. ‘Be still and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!’ The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress.”

Psalm 46: 1-3, 8-11 (ESV)

Amen.

Sig

10 Years

Ten years ago today, I met my hubby.

(It drives him crazy that I have all these “anniversaries” in my head.

So, honey, don’t feel pressured to buy me anything.

Although I do like chocolate…but I think you know that. :))

It w as through

a weird set of circumstances. We were basically being “set up”, but he was “checking me out” first. Does that make any sense

?

Anyway, we ended up going out after church with some mutual friends and the rest…is history.

I was sure he was “the one” almost immediately, but it took him a little longer to be sure.

17 months after we met, we got married.

Yeah, it was quick.

In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago; in other ways, the years have flown.

We look so young here…

but I’ll take this…any day. :)

Sig

10 Indonesian Adventures

Time for another top 10 post.

:)

So, I bring you…10 Indonesian adventures

I will never forget. (Pardon me in advance if some of these are TMI. I had some solicited help from a certain someone in my house. :)) Oh, and I didn’t even attempt to number these in any particular order. Tobin said it best…they were all adventures for their own reasons.

And even though some of them weren’t fun at the time, I smile now. :)

10. Using a Squatty Potty. Some would argue that this

is an actual adventure.

I beg to differ…seeing as the first time made me cry. I will spare you the details, only to tell

you that I eventually figured it out and came to the point where I preferred them over regular toilets.

9. Surfing at Kuta Beach. Surfing was always on my Bucket List but kind of one of those things I was afraid to try. But in April 2007, I took a trip to Bali with some friends…and somehow I found the guts to go out, find a surf instructor, and rent a board. Not only did I stand up on the board and actually ride it to shore, I was hooked immediately. I still love to surf…I just need an ocean now. :)

8. Bukit Lawang. In 2007 I took a trip with some friends to Bukit Lawang in the jungles of Sumatra.

We went on an eight hour hike to see the orangutans in the preserve there and went white water “rafting”…in a raft made of a bunch of rubber inner tubes. It was fun…not necessarily something I’d do again but something everyone should do once if they get a chance. And the orangutans were pretty cool. :)

7. Being Jane. And while I was on the above trip

? I. just. had. to. be. Jane. Just once. I had always w anted to swing on

a vine, and our guide, though he thought I was crazy, very nicely went out and found me the perfect swinging apparatus.

6. Eating Octopus. While we were in Indonesia, Tobin and I loved eating sushi. (Because there, we could afford it!) We went with some friends to celebrate Tobin’s 30th birthday, and one of them pulled a plate of baby octopuses (octopi?) from the conveyer belt that went by the tables. I have to admit that I was really grossed out but eventually ate it. But really, only for bragging rights. :) Not something I’d eat again. (I can’t believe how long my hair is in this pic, either!)

5. Taking the Ferry to Singapore. This was an adventure in the worst way possible. Now, I can look back on this particular day and smile. Then? I thought I might die. Anyway, in an effort to save some money, we decided to take the ferry from Batam to Singapore before flying on to Thailand for our Christmas break.

No one warned me about what happens to people on a ferry who get extremely motion sick. Imagine…the most excruciating 60 minutes of your life spent heaving into a garbage can. While the boat goes up and down. And up and down. And up…and down. While all 200+ people in the room watched the extremely sick white girl, wondering if they should take pictures. (Some probably did.) Yeah. I was so sick that once I got off the boat? I laid down on the floor until the line for immigration was shorter. Worst morning EVER. (Oh, and quite obviously, this picture was taken BEFORE the ferry left.)

4. Climbing the Steps of Borobudur.

This was another item on my Bucket List. I couldn’t wait to see Borobudur, and it didn’t disappoint. I loved it…loved it…loved it. I want to go back again.

Anyone for a trip to Indonesi

a?

3. Driving to the Beach. I did not take pictures of this. It is not worth remembering although I am extremely unlikely to forget it. I still have images of the many bus cepat…fast buses…speeding toward us. Each time I was sure we would be crushed…thankfully, each time I was wrong.

In general, drives to the beach were long and slow. One beach was 200 km from where we lived.

(I just made up that number, but I think it’s about right.) That equals about 124 miles…which took us anywhere from 6-8 hours.

Yeah, it was that slow. And full of dodging buses, trucks, motorbikes, carts, and pedestrians. Bonus points to my hubby for keeping us all alive on such trips.

2. Motorbike + Tidal Wave. You can read the full account here. It’s a good one. Let’s just say that for the three years we drove in Indonesia, we had a knack for getting caught in the rain more times than we can possibly count. And one time during our first year, we met a bus. Bus + two bules on motorbike + monstrous puddle = two very wet people + bus full of laughing passengers. Oh, memories.

1. Hiking Tangkuban Parahu in Flip Flops. One time when a friend was visiting, we decided to take her to the volcano about 45 minutes from our house. It was kind of a rainy, cold day there and we figured we’d just go, look around, take some pictures, and then head to the hot springs, which was the real reason we went up there in the first place. :) However, once we got there, we decided that we should hire a guide to show us around. We thought? That he would take us around the rim, point out a few things, and we’d be done.

Oh, no. Not at all. He took us on a “hike” down to the bottom of the volcano. We were all wearing flip flops. It was wet and muddy. And cold…well, cold for Indonesia. And the best part? We had to hike back up to the top…which re ally is

a story for another day. Now I can say I’ve hiked a volcano in flip flops. More bragging rights. :)

I heart adventures.

So thankful for the memories.

Sig

What’s Your Passion?

So I sorta got hotheaded passionate about something today at the end of Bible study.

I don’t think I even realized quite how passionate I was about it until I completely spilled it out while standing on my soapbox.

I mentioned the TOMS One Day Without Shoes…not really as a way to pressure people

to go barefoot with me, but to let them know about it.

Because I? Think it’s an amazing, awesome way to raise awareness for something that is close to my heart…the millions of kids who go without shoes each day.

I’ve seen these kids.

I’ve played soccer with these kids.

I’ve played with baby alligators with these kids. (True story…for later, maybe. :))

I’ve told these kids about Jesus.

I’ve been hugged by these kids with a fierceness that could have broken my heart in two.

This is a cause close to my heart…a passion to see something in the world change.

Gandhi said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.”

My passion is to be that change… to make a little spark that might turn in

to something more.

But I have to make sure that my passion doesn’t turn me into a hotheaded, stubborn, arrogant person who won’t listen to other people’s opinions…and passions.

Because we all have different things we’re passionate about.

My view of the world is not the same as that of the person next to me.

The things that stir our hearts are different because we are different.

So what makes your heart bleed? What is the change you wish to be? Please share. :)

Tuesday, April 5, 2011, is One Day Without Shoes.

I’d love it if you’d jo in me by go

ing barefoot in support of kids all over the world.

And I’ll still love you if you wear shoes, too.

:)

Sig

Airports

I love my husband.

I’m fighting a cold, going on

half speed, and my brain is so. very. tired.

So I asked him to give me a word to blog about.

He typed in random word lists into Google…and came up with “airports”.

Interesting choice.

And, it works.

I’ve been all over the world…so why not tell you about all the airports I’ve been in

? And if there’s something particularly memorable, I’ll say it, too.

And I’ll even include the airport codes, for those of you who love to be intellectually stimulated. :)

Enjoy, potentially, the most random post ever!

Africa

  • CPT – Cape Town International Airport; Cape Town, South Africa. Good Italian food…and one really late night there.

Asia

  • CGK – Soekarno Hatta International Airport; Jakarta, Indonesia. Thankfully it had a Starbucks.

  • BDO – Husein Sastranegara Airport; Bandung, Indonesia.
  • MES – Polonia Airport; Medan, Indonesia.
  • SUB – Juanda Airport; Surabaya, Indonesia.
  • DPS – Ngurah Rai International Airport; Denpasar-Bali, Indonesia. Ditto…Starbucks. :)
  • BTH – Hang Nadim Airport; Batam, Indonesia.
  • MLG – Abdul Rahman Saleh Airport; Malang, Indonesia. Sitting on the floor (and killing a roach) while playing cards for three hours and waiting for a very delayed flight back to Jakarta. No Starbucks there.
  • SIN – Changi Airport; Singapore. Many in-transit nights spent in the lounge. McDonald’s breakfast at 3 a.m. After a year without it? Enough said.
  • KUL – Kuala Lumpur International Airport; Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
  • BKK – Suvarnabhumi International Airport; Bangkok, Thailand. Mango sticky rice and Amazing Race moments.
  • CNX – Chiang Mai International Airport; Chiang Mai, Thailand.
  • HKT – Phuket International Aiport; Phuket, Thailand.
  • HKG – Hong Kong International Airport; Hong Kong. Really good chocolate…which I so needed after a 14 hour flight from LA. :)
  • NRT – Narita International Airport; Tokyo, Japan. Not my favorite place to spend anticipating a long flight back to Minneapolis. Cool toilets with too many buttons that I was afraid to push for fear of what might happen.

    :)

  • ICN – Incheon International Airport; Seoul, South Korea.

    Chocolate covered sunflower seeds and peach water.

    Mmmmm.

Europe

  • AMS – Schipol Airport; Amsterdam,

    Netherlands. Sadly, the only time I’ve ever been to Europe. Good chocolate, though.

    And cheese. :)

North America

  • PHX – Sky Harbor International Airport; Phoenix, AZ.
  • LAX – Los Angeles International Airport; Los Angeles, CA. Really needs to be more accessible for passengers switching terminals. One loooooong walk with several bags, a guitar, and a djembe, when we left for Indo the first time.
  • SAN – San Diego International Airport; San Diego, CA.
  • SFO – San Francisco International Airport; San Francisco, CA.
  • DEN – Denver International Airport; Denver, CO.
  • MIA – Miami International Airport; Miami, FL. The only time I’ve ever been to Florida…and it was in transit to Honduras. I didn’t even get to stay.

    :(

  • ATL – Hartsfield Jackson Atlanta International Airport; Atlanta, GA.
  • ORD – Chicago O’Hare International Airport; Chicago, IL.
  • DSM – Des Moines International Airport; Des Moines, IA.
  • MCI – Kansas City International Airport; Kansas City, KS.
  • GRR – Gerald R. Ford International Airport; Grand Rapids, MI.
  • MSP – Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport; Minneapolis, MN. We ate at Chili’s there every time we flew out. Good memories. :)
  • EWR – Newark Liberty International Airport; Newark, NJ. Ate a hot dog right before our flight to Amsterdam. Not such a good idea.

  • PDX – Portland International Airport; Portland, OR. Our favorite airport so far.

    Amazing Greek food and a bookstore I could actually afford. I’d go back to Portland just for the airport. :)

  • MEM – Memphis International Airport; Memphis, TN. Flew through this one way more times than I can count.
  • DFW – Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport; Dallas, TX. Eight hour layover that turned into twelve…lots and lots of Phase 10. Good memories. :)

Central/South America

  • LIM – Jorge Chavez International Airport; Lima, Peru. Inca Kola and playing my wooden flute for a crowd while wearing the coolest stocking cap ever.

    :)

  • IQT – C.F. Secada Airport; Iquitos, Peru. I loved Iquitos. So I guess I loved the airport, too.
  • MGA – Augusto C.

    Sandino Airport; Managua, Nicaragua.

  • SAL – El Salvador International Aiport; San Salvador, El

    Salvador.

  • LCE – Goloson International Airport; La Ceiba, Honduras.
  • RTB – Roatan Airport; Roatan, Honduras. Teeniest, tiniest plane I’ve ever flown on.
  • MBJ – Sangster International Airport; Montego Bay, Jamaica.

Whew! I’m tired.

5 continents. 15 countries. 40 airports.

It’s a beautiful world…go see it. :)

Sig

I Will Sing

I love music.

I sing

all day long…really. Sometimes I pull out my guitar and sing for Maelie. (She loves it because she doesn’t know any better yet. :)) Sometimes I just belt out a random tune. Sometimes I make up songs about things like…well, let’s just hope that Maelie’s first words aren’t something about dirty diapers. 😀 Sometimes I butcher “Defying Gravity” and once I even tried to sing the ending of “Think of Me” from Phantom.

Um, no.

It seems there is always a song in my head and usually on my lips. I just love music and the powerful way it speaks to me.

So I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that my daughter is already “singing”. And, at times, sounding better than her mommy.

:)

Last night was praise team practice. (Yes, the cold is at least better enough for me to try singing, but I kept the volume down. :)) It was fun…there was enough humor in the group (Titanic, anyone? And my heart will go on and on…) to keep us laughing, and most of the songs I could at least figure out.

Then we got to the last one.

It’s a Chris Tomlin and one of my favorites.

But it’s also one that I’m not sure I can sing in public.

There’s too much intense emotion that wells up within me when I hear it…imagine trying to sing it. I got through the words in practice, but I couldn’t think about the meaning at all.

Or the time in my life that it points back to.

A time where I was looking so hard for God in the middle of something…and I just couldn’t see Him. I wanted to…but my eyes were blinded by so much.

Loss. Grief. Lack of faith.

One thing that keeping this blog has done for me? It has forced me to revisit some of the tough things in life. And that’s good…I need to process things.

But the thing is…I’m tired of the ashes.

I want beauty.

I want to stand up and shout that He’s my God…and He is Everything…and that the things He’s done are amazing!

On days that are full of sunshine…AND on days that are filled with shadows.

On Sunday we’re going to sing a song…

It might make me cry. It might make me smile.

It might make me lift my hands and say, “God, You are so, so Good.”

But no matter what…I Will Sing.

I can sing in the troubled times, sing when I win.
I can sing when

I lose my step and I fall down again.
I can sing ’cause You pick me up, sing ’cause You’re there,
I can sing ’cause You hear me, Lord, when I call to

You in prayer.


I can sing with my last breath, sing for I know
That I’ll sing with the angels and the saints around the throne

How can I keep from singing Your praise?
How can I ever say enough?
How amazing is Your love!
How can I keep from shouting Your name

?
I know I am loved by the King…and it makes my heart want to sing.

Sig

That Kind of Love

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We don’t have the kind of story that people write love

songs about.

We met when I was a senior in college, and he was already working a job he planned to stay with for awhile. I wasn’t planning on getting married and had big dreams of heading to the mission field alone.

But then he walked into my life… and I fell in love.

It wasn’t instant…it took a couple of d

ates. When he dropped me off at home after our second date, I knew this was the man I was going to marry.

It took him about another month to be sure.

A lot of people disagreed with us. We were young, we hardly knew each other.

But we didn’t care what other people thought…and still don’t. We knew.

And that was all that mattered.

We dated five months, were engaged for ten, and married on August 3, 2002.

It was a simple wedding. I’m not a froo-froo girl. I picked out my wedding dress (and bought it) in 45 minutes. I went barefoot. (One less thing to trip over :)) The decorations were simple…daisies, blue, and silver. My bridesmaids were five of my closest friends. From the beginning of the wedding to the end of the reception, it was maybe three hours. Oh, and we ate pie…it was really good. :)

That was just us.

And it was perfect.

We spent a week in Jamaica…so. much. love.

And then we returned to normal life.

And that life has brought many, many things.

Unemployment, searching, praying, obedience, goodbyes, adventures, adjustments, tears, waiting, hoping, trusting, seeing God’s provision, perseverance, acceptance, joy…and love.

Not always the jump-on-top-of-each-other or make-out-for-hours kind of love.

..but true love.

The kind that hangs on when things get rough and promises to be there no matter what. The kind that can survive the biggest arguments, the most unkind words, the really terrible days.

When he walked into my life ten years ago, I had no idea what the next decade would hold…but I’ m so thankful.

Thankful for the man who sees all of my imperfections and flaws and still chooses to love me. Thankful for the guy who calls me “Honeypie” and teases me endlessly with a certain word I despise…and then gives me a wink, just to let me know that it’s all in love. Thankful for a guy who was willing to stay with a girl when life seemed so upside-down and unfair…and love her through the many ugly and awful days.

It’s been just about ten years now since I fell in love.

And although life hasn’t turned out like what we first pictured, I would do it all again…every single moment…for that kind of love.

Happy Valentine’s Day, Tobin. I love you.

 

Sig

Controlling the Urge to Chop

Warning: Stop reading now.

Why are you still reading?!

Ok, so today’s pos t

is slightly indulgent and more-than-

slightly ridiculous.

But, really…when I plan to blog every day for a year, there

are bound to be a few like this. Maybe it will even make you laugh. (And laughter is meaningful…so there ya go. :))

Basically, I am learning huge amounts of self-control right now. Probably not the way God intended for me to learn it, but nevertheless, I’m learning!

Why, you ask?

Because of my hair.

That’s right…my hair.

The long and short of it (HAHA! Please tell me you laughed?!) is that I am completely addicted to cutting my hair…and I change my hairstyle often. It is actually quite amazing that I’ve had the same haircut for more than a year right now…

I’m a spontaneous person, and I like change, so I think that has a lot to do with it.

No, let’s back up. I like change when it doesn’t involve transcontinental relocation. :)

Anyway, a few weeks ago I decided that I was tired of my hair…and because it is so short already, that means only one thing…no more haircuts allowed.

Oh, here we go.

Much self-control needed.

A little (but not short) story:

So, when we went to Indonesia, I had pretty short hair.

That was mostly to give myself some time

to find the courage to get a haircut there. Well, that courage never came, and I just let it grow. By Christmas, it was long enough for a ponytail.

But what I hadn’t counted on was what the humidity in Indo would do to my hair.

It wasn’t cute. AT ALL.

It was this crazy mix of waves and curls, and it drove me crazy.

So I decided to chemically straighten it.

Yeah…it’s pretty much like it sounds and pretty much horrible for anyone’s hair. (You can read my mildly horrifying but oh-so-entertaining account of it here. And, ok…after re-reading this post, I have to put in a disclaimer here: I was even more of a drama queen five years ago. But hey, enjoy the drama. :))

And that worked for awhile…until my hair started to grow out. Then I had a mix of crazy curly and straight. Hello ponytail for five months.

So when we headed back to the States for the summer I decided, what the heck? Let’s go curly.

Oh, horrors.

Once again, I hadn’t counted on the humidity factor…my hair started out fine in the mornings. But after about 30 minutes, it would be crazy. Again, we say hello to the ponytail. I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave my hair down for one day the entire semester.

So once again, around Christmas, I decided to try straightening it.

Really, Mel, did we NOT learn the first time?!

Apparently not.

This time I went with a friend, and we both got our hair wrecked straightened.

The only good thing that came out of this is that my hair was longer than it had been since, like 3rd grade.

But again…humidity kicked in.

Really, why did I even try?

I made it another semester, but my hair never made it past 9:00 am before I put it up.

I just couldn’t take it and knew what I needed to do.

The problem was, we had decided to stay in Indonesia that summer, and so I needed to find the guts and just get it cut. I ended up chopping about ten inches off, and it was the best thing ever.

I loved that haircut (even though I still had to cut it every four to six weeks or so). :)

And then…last Christmas…I had a moment of weakness. Maybe it had something to do with being pregnant and puking all day long while living in the boiling tropics? I totally chopped it…it was so short that when I looked in the mirror, I almost cried. But then I went home and smiled when I figured out it only took me five minutes to do my hair. For a pregnant, puking girl, that is priceless.

I kept it short after Maelie was born, but lately have been kind of getting the itch for something new. Or at least longer.

It has now been almost seven weeks since I’ve cut my hair.

And it. is. killing. me.

I so want to grab scissors and just start hacking away.

Self-control, self-control, self-control.

Be patient, be patient,

be patient.

I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.

Wait, wait, wait.

And while I wait and practice patience and self-control, I’m trying to be thankful. Thankful that my hair grows faster than the average person’s hair. Thankful that I’m still taking prenatal vitamins so it’s growing even faster. (My hairstylist says it’s about an inch a month–I think it’s even more.) That’s just crazy. And even more thankful that there’s something called a flat iron.

I’m even thankful that I have this blog for moments such as this. Instead of thinking about chopping my hair or running around the house looking for scissors, I can just write about it instead. :)

So, there you go…what’s going on in the land of Mel’s hair. (Probably more than you ever wanted to know!)

When my hair is long enough for a ponytail, I’m throwing a party. Stay tuned. :)

Sig

What I Miss

I had an interesting conversation today with a few people about Indonesia. The question, “What do you miss?” came up, and I almost wasn’t sure how to answer it. If you asked me that question every day for a week, you’d probably get a different answer every time.

I listed a few things…and then I thought about it for the rest of the day.

What exactly do I miss?

So here’s my top 10 11…enjoy. :)

11. The climate. That’ s a given on a day a

s frigid as this one is. I don’t just mean the weather, though…because truthfully, it was always a little on the hot side for me there. I miss the mountains I saw every single day when I looked out the upstairs window. I miss the palm trees in our yard. I miss the smell of rain and the fun of riding a motorbike when it was so completely pouring. I miss the beaches and the many vacation nights that Tobin and I would sit out on the sand in the dark, stargazing and listening to the waves crash.

10. Starbucks. There is something about Starbucks in a country such as Indonesia. To me it represented more than coffee…it was my little slice of America in a place so different from my “home”. It was there that I often found my sanity, there that I spent hours with friends as we laughed, poured our hearts out to each other, and bonded over similar circumstances that no one else quite understood.

9. Outlet Shopping. It would be so very wrong if I wrote this post and didn’t include outlet shopping on the list. It isn’t because I am was a shopaholic. (I’m getting A LOT better, I promise. :)) Outlet shopping to me was therapy. It was a chance to go look for a bargain and take a friend and just explore. And while I almost always found a good deal, we had far more fun laughing at some of the crazy T-shirts we found made by someone who didn’t have his/her English quite right. If you ever get a chance, ask Tobin to tell

you about the T-shirt we found all about meatballs. :) Dude, really?! Yep, we bought it and gave it to a friend.

8. Tempe Goreng & Pisang Goreng. Easily my two favorite Indonesian foods.

Tempe goreng is fried soybean cakes and p

isang goreng is fried banana. I loved eating tempe goreng and craved it a lot when I was pregnant…it’s best with lots of kecap manis (sweet soy sauce) and rice. Pisang goreng…so yummy. I actually loved it the Indonesian way, with brown sugar and shredded cheese…but throw a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and I’m just as happy. :)

7. Crazy Adventures. Whether riding a motorbike in a downpour, getting completely lost for hours, swinging from a vine, or tromping through a jungle, I miss the adventures from our time in Indo.

One of my favorite quotes is “Attitude is the difference between ordeal and adventure.” So although our Indonesian adventures are over, I’ m looking forward to

many, many more of them, wherever we are!

6. My Pembantu (Housekeeper). I don’t just miss the fact that Ibu Sari did all of those things that I despise… cleaning bathrooms and the floors, laundry, dusting.

We so appreciated everything she did for us.

But I miss her…my friend. I miss laughing with her and practicing my Bahasa Indonesia with her. I miss our daily conversations. I really, really just miss her.

 

5. Students. I could say I miss the school we taught at, but really, the students are what made BAIS. I spent a LOT of time with some of those students, and they know far more about me than most people.

(Scary, I know.) Really, teaching them changed my life…I gained so much appreciation for different cultures and ideas because of the students I taught. I could list individuals and what I miss about each of them, but that’s for a different day…I so look forward to Heaven and the absolutely incredible reunion that will happen there. :)

4. Friends. Friends come and go in a place as transitory as BAIS…and so we made a lot of friends and lost a lot. Some of those friendships are/were strong enough to make it through living on separate continents, but a lot are/were not. I say that to point out that God gives us people in each phase of life to bless us, to teach us, to encourage us, to help us grow. So I appreciate the relationships we had there even if not all of them were close…and even if not all of them lasted forever. But I can honestly say that each person I knew impacted me in some way, and for that reason, I am thankful.

3. Appreciating the Small Things. Not that I don’t do it now…but I realized not too long ago how much Tobin and I found joy in small things. Like the day Setiabudi (the expat grocery store) had orange cheddar cheese for the first time in about a year. Or the day we spent $8 on a package of frozen bagels and a (very small) block of Philly Cream Cheese. Or the day smack dab in the middle of rainy season that we drove up to Lembang on the bike…and it didn’t rain. Or when someone was visiting from the States and would bring us American chocolate. :)

2. The Indonesian People. I didn’t have as many relationships with the local people as a lot of teachers/ friends I knew did.

But the ones I did meet and know… they were wonderful.

I am so thankful that I was able to live among people from a different religion…because it changed the way I viewed that religion.

I still don’t see it as Truth, but I did come to respect their way of life and tradition. Most of what you hear in the media…well, I just think most people could benefit from living in Indonesia for awhile.

I’m thankful for how much bigger my world became through the opportunity to live among the people of Indonesia. They’re amazing.

1. Maelie experiencing Indonesia. I so wish my daughter could have lived in Indonesia for awhile. (Well, other than in my belly :)) She will hear us talking about it her whole life but never really know what it was like. Of course, we plan on taking her there to visit someday…and that will be fun. :) No matter what she does with her life, though, I hope Mae has the opportunity to spend some time in another culture. It’s life-changing.

This list could have been a lot longer…but here you go.

Maybe there will be a Part 2 later.

:)

I’m glad I miss it…because it means I loved it.

Sig

Micah 6:8 (Part 2): Do Justice

On my first day of 5th grade, I was seated next to a boy named…we’ll call him N, on the off chance that he ever sees this. :)

N had a dirty mouth. We are talking Dir. Ty.

Every other sentence was riddled with nasty words…every bad word you can think of…repeatedly. Every single day.

All day long.

Imagine the “fun” he had when he learned that I couldn’t stand his excessive swearing.

(And really, I don’t think it was that I’d fully learned that I shouldn’t talk dirty yet…I think any normal person would have been sick of it after five minutes.) Anyway.

He took every opportunity he could to make me mad…and eventually he resorted to calling me some of those names.

Sometime around October…since I’d been putting up with it for weeks…I decided it was time to administer some justice. (After all, I was a cop’s daughter…I knew all about justice, right

? :)) I took my elbow and I jabbed him. Hard.

I learned quickly that this jab would shut him up for a few blessed, peaceful minutes. And so I used it as my tactic for bringing some san

ity to my day.

Eventually we switched seats, and thankfully, he moved on to share his wonderful language with another poor, unsuspecting student. Although I silently rejoiced that I no longer had to sit by N, I felt sorry for the student who now had to put up with him.

Imagine my surprise when we switched seats a few months later…and who did I get the utter privilege to sit by again?

You guessed it.

And he hadn’t changed a bit.

Thankfully I had a tried and true method and I wasn’t afraid to use it.

Multiple times a day I would take my elbow and jab him as hard as I could once he got going on his swearing rampage.

A couple times he even said, “Ouch!”…and oh, the joy I felt.

Until one day…when I wasn’t careful enough.

Just as N finished calling me yet another name, I let him have it.

And Ms. S. saw.

Oh boy, did I get it.

Yeah, that’s right. I got it. Not him. Me.

I don’t remember what the punishment was. I think I got my name on the board and had to write sentences or something.

But what got me about the whole thing was that I got in trouble.

Wasn’t I just doing the right thing

?

Well, that’s subjective, I guess.

And I have to be honest here…a tiny bit of me still flares up when I think of that moment and how justice was served to one person, but not both. I am sure that I (and probably others) informed my teacher of exactly why I was using the elbow jab. But it didn’t matter. Physical violence was not tolerated.

I guess the school hadn’t yet realized that verbal can be worse.

So the whole idea of justice…yeah, it came up in my life at an early age.

But what does it mean exactly?

Justice. God tells us to do it–the version of the Bible I grew up with words it a little differently…to do justly. I don’t think He meant that I should repeatedly use my own form of justice to punish someone, though.

Every night Tobin and I pray for Maelie.

We have a list of 31 character traits, and we pray one for her

each night. Last night was justice…and I couldn’t help thinking of this story as I prayed for her.

What do I pray for her in terms of justice?

Well, first off, I never want her to be treated unfairly.

(Mommy hat on here…) I never want her to treat others unfairly. I want her to learn that when we do wrong there are consequences to our actions; but on the flip side of that, she should know that there are rewards when we obey…and that God rewards those who obey as well.

I want to be an example of that in Maelie’s life. When Tobin and I have an argument, do I treat him justly or am I unreasonable? When I get frustrated or upset with something do I react in an appropriate manner or do I lash out? Sure, she’s not old enough to understand…yet. But I’d rather not wait for the day she can understand to make sure that my thoughts, words, and actions toward others are just.

And I think that’s where the other parts of this verse come in…love kindness (mercy) and walk humbly.

(Parts 3 & 4) God knew what He was doing when He wrote that verse.

:) When we do justly, kindness and humility should be the products from our actions.

If I could go back to that situation in 5th grade, knowing what I know now, I would probably handle it differently. (Chances are the school would, too…now that bullying is an actual issue that is being addressed and not swept under the rug. But that’s not the point.) Regardless of how I was treated, my actions should have displayed kindness…such as ignoring him or trying to talk to him; and humility…not creating drama (who, me? :)) by continually elbowing him.

Ah, the lessons we learn much later than we should.

I don’t know where N is today…but I hope a lot of things for him–the obvious, that he’s cleaned up his mouth and his life. But more important, that he’s found forgiveness and hope.

Sig