remembering

Behind the Scenes: Sammy

July 9, 2013 by Mel · 43 Comments

Aaaahhhh, Sammy.

Meet one of my two “boys.”

And behind this picture…more stories than I can possibly begin to tell you.

I could tell you that the reason we have him is because he and I fell in love one night in a pet shop in Bandung, Indonesia and how I had to take him home in a taxi…and how the taxi driver charged me double for the simple reason that he didn’t like dogs and he could.

I could tell you about the utter heartbreak we experienced when he was stolen from us and missing for six days…and how we paid a ransom, literally, to get him back. (That story is in the book… ;))

But today, I’m just going to tell a bit of the silly and sweet of this crazy, lovable, completely loyal pooch named Sammy.

We tell people that he is our Indonesian dog, which is true. Andre is from America, Sammy is from Indonesia…

and I kind of think it’s cute that it ended up that way.

Sammy has been, from day one, all kinds of mischievous and loyal and ornery and loving, rolled up into one, big, lion-ish golden retriever with Really. Big. Paws.

No joke.

For years we’ve found it hilarious that he will lie in the direct sunlight when it’s HOT out, and take a nap.

That would be what he’s doing in this particular photo. 😉

Andre is usually lying nearby in the shade because he gets that lying in the sun is…well, it’s HOT.

Especially when you have golden retriever fur.

Not that I would know…I’m just imagining here.

He would do it on a daily basis when we lived in Indonesia. (Read: when the temperatures were pushing 95 or 100.)

We would watch him and think he was crazy as we still-sweated in our not-outside-in-the-sun living room. Yet a good part of his days were spent basking in the glorious (and did I mention HOT?!) tropical sunshine.

Maybe he was soaking up all he could because he knew eventually we’d stick him on a plane bound for the Midwest. And snow. Which he loves, by the way..

The truth with this dog is that he’s always been a little odd.

The first time we offered him ham, he wouldn’t eat it. What dog turns down meat?

His first interaction with Andre, as a twenty-or-less pound puppy, began with him trying to jump on top of our poor, confused, American dog. We still laugh about that.

He always has to have something in his mouth…usually in the form of a stuffed animal. (And he will steal one of Maelie’s if he can’t find one of his four or five.)

He still lives to greet us at the door in his usual, run-full-speed-and-almost-knock-us-over, manner…whether we’ve been gone for a week or two minutes.

The truth is, this crazy dog wormed his way into our hearts immediately…

And we love him like the crazy that he is.

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It’s Tuesday, and this link up at my friend, Crystal’s place is becoming one of my favorites. It’s pretty sweet (and sometimes tear-jerking, so bring tissues) to read the stories that come with the photos of life…especially the photos where there’s so much more going on than what we see.

Social media and online relationships can make us feel like everyone else has it all together. We’re edited, proof-read, Pinterest-perfect versions of ourselves (or so some might think!) when – in reality? There is an unfinished pile of laundry around the corner. That cute toddler smiling for the camera just had a massive meltdown seconds ago. That yummy breakfast-for-dinner you just showed us on Instagram? It’s because the cat licked the chicken that was supposed to be for dinner.

“Behind the Scenes” is a fun link up where we show those photos – but tell the real story behind them. The sneak peek behind the scenes, a look past the edges of the photo to the real life behind it.

Take some time and come on over to check out the silly and sweet of what goes on behind the camera lens…I promise you’ll leave smiling.

Filed Under: adventures, Behind the Scenes, blessings, dogs, family, Indonesia, just life, remembering

Behind the Scenes: It Broke Me

June 25, 2013 by Mel · 24 Comments

There are things in life that change us forever.

And this is my story of one of them.

I remember the man.

Not this man…no, this is not my photo.

As my husband put it, There are just things we didn’t feel that we should photograph.

After all, why take a picture of something that made such an indelible, permanent, imprint in our minds and on our hearts?

The man, though…there was just no way we could forget him.

For the first time we saw him, it was shocking.

He didn’t have any legs.

And we’re not talking leg-loss, below-the-knee…no, he didn’t have any part of his legs at all. When a car would drive by with a handout, he would use the strength of his arms to pull himself near the curb where he would hold up his dirty, paper cup and hope for enough coins or even a paper bill to make a difference that day.

We grew accustomed to seeing him and would always have a Rp 1,000 bill ready…about enough to buy him noodles or rice.

Tobin would stretch down from the driver’s window to make sure the money made it into the cup.

It was a tiny way we could help.

But it never got easier to see him. Never.

There was a piece of my heart that always wondered what his story was…too many circumstances prevented me from ever finding that out.

But there was an even bigger piece of my heart that just shattered all over the broken sidewalk where he made his home during the days. That would happen when we’d pass him or any of the many people like him.

The man in this photo reminds me so much of the man we saw so often…because I look at his picture and I wonder what his situation is.

I wonder if he can walk or even get around without someone to help him.

I wonder if he even has someone to help him.

I wonder his story and if there’s a family or a friend…someone, anyone who might love him.

There are stories like this all over the world, not just in Indonesia…but everywhere. Even, literally, around our corners.

It’s true…broken is everywhere, and it comes in many forms. This man’s brokenness was more obvious that some, but the truth is that, in some way, we’re all broken.

Sometimes pictures are hard to look at, and the stories behind them even more difficult to hear.

But I know how this man…and the crippled man on Jalan Pasteur and the too many children with empty eyes and the hundreds, even thousands, of others….changed my heart.

Yes, they broke it, too…but they changed it at the same time.

Or, maybe, my Father used them to change it.

I still struggle with how it’s possible to love everyone.

It’s not.

But I can love the people who are around me, those God brings into my life…and that looks different with every person.

There’s no “how-to” with Love…it’s just simply a choice. And it’s one I want to make every day.

That’s the story behind why I posted this photo…

Thank you for taking the time to read it.

(Special thanks and photo credit to Eki Akhwan of Bandung Daily Photo. Used by permission.)

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It’s Tuesday, and one of my favorite link up days! My friend, Crystal, invites us all to her space to share the real of life behind the photos that make up our days.

I hope you’ll hop over and read some incredible stories of the things that take place behind the camera lens.

Filed Under: barefoot, Behind the Scenes, Indonesia, just life, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am

Him and Me…Daddy and Daughter

June 17, 2013 by Mel · 10 Comments

Sometimes I wish I had known to hold on to the good times.

But there’s no manual that comes with childhood…the kind that tells little girls that every moment spent with their daddy is something to be treasured.

For me, it was so much unlike what “all of my friends” had.

He worked the 11-7 or 3-11 most days. (He was a police officer.)

I rarely saw him for more than an hour or two at a time.

Occasionally he’d take me out for coffee (I got Dr. Pepper) or to the airport to see his buddies.

And once, he took me running with him. A day I’ve never forgotten.

It was all of those little moments and memories, the things that made up our version of daddy and daughter.

I thought he hung the moon, and when it crashed, so did my entire world.

I skipped school that day and I watched him go. His belongings packed into his white truck, a quick goodbye, and that was it…on that too-beautiful-for-anything-bad-to-happen, early-May day, I set a record for the fastest a wall could be built by a fifteen year old.

There was no way I was ever letting anyone in again.

The years that followed were a series of separations with a brief, very-occasional, few hours together thrown in there. But for the most part, this daddy/daughter relationship was gone.

Over.

Can I tell you something, friends?

That’s not ok.

Daughters need their daddies in their lives, and they need them to be All. There.

Committed.

Faithful.

Because eight years later, I was getting ready to walk down the aisle. And to be honest, I didn’t know what I wanted.

Well, if we’re being completely honest here, I wanted to get married on a remote beach with a few friends there as witnesses. I wanted to forget the fact that there was that whole giving-the-daughter-away thing looming over my head.

But I couldn’t…because I’m Mel. Because I’m me and because my heart wanted to do the right thing, even if it was hard and it hurt and was one of the hardest things I ever had to do.

And so we walked down the aisle together. (I cried more than he did, but for the record, I don’t think his eyes were dry, either. ;))

And nothing magical happened that day, but those bricks from the wall I’d built around my battered heart did begin to fall.

And almost eleven years later? I have a daddy again.

Our relationship still looks different…but it’s a good one.

We only see each other a few times a year, and we talk about that often, too. But those moments are special and I hold them close to my heart and thank God that He was able to redeem such broken.

He called me the other night, out of the blue, and I LOVED that he called. It was mostly just chatting about life and family and running (my awesome daddy-o is running a marathon this year!!!)…and well,

I whispered thanks.

Because my Father redeems…and He gives.

And He gave me my daddy back. Happy Father’s Day, Dad. (A day late because…well, you know me. ;))

I love you. And I hope we have a lot more little moments to come.

Filed Under: barefoot, blessings, encouragement, family, just life, remembering, where I am

Five-Minute Friday: Fall

June 6, 2013 by Mel · 46 Comments

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

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

Today’s Topic: Fall

So I should take this Five-Minute Friday prompt and write about the absolute, utter, TOTAL klutz that I am.

Really.

I embrace the title pretty much every day as I fall over nothing. 😉

But when I first saw the prompt, I went back to a memory…one I hold in my heart and will forever.

In October of 2010, we experienced our first fall season since 2004. (Yeah, leaves don’t get all crunchy and fall off trees in the tropics. That’s really quite the bummer.)

There was one afternoon in early October when my husband came home from work, and we took our then-four-month-old baby girl outside with us and played in the leaves.

We raked.

We did a lot of jumping.

We took a ton of pictures.

And? I totally even took a huge, crashing dive into the largest pile.

It was one of my favorite days ever and holds a special place in my heart each time I think of it.

Sometimes we take the littlest things for granted…like a change in seasons.

And while we still enjoy fall, I know that season in 2010 will be our favorite for a long, long time.

One of my favorite pictures of me with my girl that day.

Filed Under: adventures, family, Five Minute Friday, Indonesia, just life, Maelie, remembering, where I am

A Mess of Batik…and Identity

June 3, 2013 by Mel · 6 Comments

The other day I was digging through some boxes we’ve stored in our basement.

Some of them contain items we shipped back to the States from Indonesia three years ago, and while we’ve gone through the boxes at least once since then, we weren’t in the place yet where we could just start pitching everything we don’t use. (Though that day is definitely closer now. ;))

I was actually digging (and making a total mess…really) for a book that I’d had shipped to me in Indonesia and thought I’d brought back. It figures that I didn’t find the book, but I did find?

This.

Yes, it kind of fits me like a great, big, batik, tent. 😉

But, before you cringe…let me tell you the back story.

During our years in Indonesia, I loved all things batik, especially the patchwork kind. Purses, shirts, even skirts…I couldn’t get enough of it. When I stumbled on this tank top in a little batik shop in Yogyakarta during our Christmas trip of ’08, it was like finding a treasure. And so I bought it and wore it and loved it. (And I’m guessing packed it up to ship home way before I actually left Indonesia because my prego belly was probably way too big for it by then. ;))

And that shirt wasn’t the only batik thing I brought home. A couple skirts, shirts, a kebaya, blankets, more bags than I can count…

Yep, I stocked up. (And, bonus points to the person who can count how many batik purses are hidden in all of that.) 😉

I wanted to make sure I had enough batik to get me through however long it took me to…

Well, I’m not exactly sure how to finish that sentence.

For several months after my return, I wanted that piece of Indonesia.

The kind I could look at and hold in my hands, the kind that could remind me of the place that still held so much of my heart, even if my feet weren’t planted there anymore.

I’d wear those batik shirts around and carry the cute bags and find a little piece of my identity in the fact that even if I couldn’t be there, at least I could remember it.

But eventually that day came…the day when I pulled out a bag I bought at Target. And I dressed in my jeans and and equally-Target tank top, probably with some Old Navy flip flops thrown in there, too.

I’m not sure how, or even exactly when, it happened, but I became ok with not having that piece of I’ve-obviously-been-somewhere-most-of-you-haven’t-and-that-place-is-my-identity, thrown out there for the world (or at least my little C’ville) to see.

Finding that shirt the other day brought me back to that place…and reminded me of the silly things I sometimes find my identity in.

While a cute bag is always nice (can I get an amen, here?! ;)) and so is a fun, unique shirt…if I’m choosing to label myself with something that trivial, then I have a long way to go.

I guess I still do.

We all do.

That’s why I’m thankful that I’m redeemed, that He’s called me by name, that I’m precious and honored in His eyes…that He loves me.

That. I’m. His.

And as I sit here writing this, still wearing that tent-like tank top, it’s a beautiful reminder, one I need every day.

Thank you, Father.

But, seriously…I added a striped sweater. Don’t you totally think I should wear this on our next date night?! 😉

Filed Under: adventures, fashion, Indonesia, just life, remembering, travel, where I am

My God-Sized Dream: I Dreamed Some Dreams…

May 28, 2013 by Mel · 36 Comments

We’ve been walking the path of God-sized dreams together for a few months now. Will you share an update with us about your dream? Let us know where you are with it–the happy and the hard. Tell us how we can pray for you and your dream too.

In 2005 we packed our bags for parts unknown.

Bandung, Indonesia.

Looking at a map, I was pretty sure it was about as far away as I could get from the Midwest, the place I had always called home.

Nevertheless, we did it. We crammed our lives into a suitcase and seven rubbermaid containers, shipped our dog on an airplane, said goodbye to all we knew, and we did it.

Moved to Indonesia.

And it became home.

At the time, we had no idea that we were living a dream.

We were aware that living and teaching overseas was something we’d wanted to do for awhile.

We were even more aware that God had called us to do it. So we answered with a yes.

And we fumbled and faltered and rejoiced and celebrated and cried and loved and lived and so many other things.

It changed us forever.

We lived out a dream, one we didn’t even know we had dreamed.

And months ago…maybe even years ago…another little dream crawled into a corner of my heart. I wanted to take the Indo-stories and experiences my Father had given to me and put them all into one place.

Write a book.

I even gave it a title. Lessons from Indonesia: On Life, Love, and Squatty Potties. 😉

And so when my friend, Holley, accepted me as a member of her God-Sized Dream Team last November, what I expected to pursue wholeheartedly during this time was writing this book.

After all, this was the dream I had in my heart.

And I wrote the book.

I did.

Hours upon hours at a corner table in the Starbucks on 31, more hot-turned-cold cups of coffee than I can count, and more smiles and tears, too…

…and it sits on my laptop and on my nightstand and in the hands of a friend…in the form of 120ish pages and 37,000 plus words. It is my heart and soul, the place where I bled love and life and happy and sad and so many memories…and it is a dream in every way.

That rough draft, read by one other person so far, represents the journey to a dream…one that I need to keep pushing forward to achieve…by writing book proposals that I don’t know how to write yet and handing it to people…even if it’s scary and makes me bite off all of my fingernails. 😉

I was fully aware that this dream I’d dreamed was a dream that I wanted to chase with abandon.

But over the last few months, there have been other things that jumped into my path.

For example…this space.

Yes, it’s been around for awhile.

And I guess I never really set out to make my blog a dream when I started it all in 2011. It was always my safe place, a place to laugh and cry and love and share it all. Of course, like any blogger, having an audience is nice, but it wasn’t my dream at the beginning.

And then?

These beautiful women from all corners started to stop by. Leave some comment love. Invite me to their spaces and into their hearts and lives.

A community was created and the dream to keep writing and sharing and loving people through my words was born. Or maybe another dream just grew.

And a few months ago, I let a dream…one that had been locked up tightly…out into the open. I let the whole world know that I want to write for (in)courage someday.

There it is again.

And I thought that maybe this whole letting-my-dreams-spill-out thing was over.

Two big dreams, and I’d shared them both.

But God has a funny way of working in hearts when we make the decision to go with His plan. And He brought something else into my life.

Mercy Ships.

Not as an I-need-to-do-this-now dream, but definitely as something that has made an impact on my heart and could be a possibility for us down the road. That’s a bit frightening and heart-pounding to think about. So, for now, we’re just lifting that one up and placing it into His hands.

Now, several months after the dreaming began, I find myself looking at three, and probably more, dreams that have somehow taken root and grown and changed me.

Some days it’s all I can do to simply catch my breath and make the choice to walk another day by His side in obedience.

Walk hand in hand. Not run ahead. Not drag my feet behind.

The truth is that, with these dreams, I’m not sure where I am.

Yes, I’m pursuing publishing a book.

And. Slowly.

This process is not for the faint of heart. I’m finding that out, and the reality of how difficult handing my words over to other people is…well, it’s breaking me and it’s harder than I ever thought it would be.

And my dream of being a contributor for another blog…well, that one is in the works. It’s not for (in)courage, a space that I still love and would, someday, still love to write for. But there’s another opportunity, one that I am truly excited to watch unfold. Hopefully I’ll be able to share more soon.

And moving to Africa to live and work on a ship? God has said a clear, Not now. I am ok with this…more than ok.

In all of this dreaming, He has been teaching me the beauty of now.

I’ve dreamed some dreams within the last several months, and though things don’t look at all like what I pictured they might, I am truly enjoying the journey.

And I’m so blessed by each of you who have been part of it.

Happy Tuesday! Today we’re spending some time reflecting on our God-Sized dreams at Holley’s place. We’d love for you to hop over and be part of what God is doing in some amazing hearts and lives.

Filed Under: (in)courage, adventures, barefoot, blessings, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, Indonesia, just life, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

Five-Minute Friday: View

May 23, 2013 by Mel · 68 Comments

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

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

Today’s Topic: View

Oh, I miss the view.

I can still picture it in my head…the green everywhere.

The mountains that seemed so close I could touch them.

The way God fingerprinted every little detail of that beautiful place.

And I got to live there.

I remember one of the mornings I took the motorbike out for a drive, and I just couldn’t get enough of my surroundings. Maybe it meant more for this Iowa girl who was used to flat plains and no mountains, but I just soaked it all in.

And now I’m glad I did, for it is still in my mind.

Still in my heart.

I can still close my eyes and picture every detail.

It was an incredible view, amazing scenery, placed in a country where the vast majority of the people were very poor.

I like to think that it was a small way He chose to bless them.

I miss you, Indonesia.

Filed Under: adventures, blessings, Five Minute Friday, Indonesia, remembering, where I am

My God-Sized Dream: Rejection

May 21, 2013 by Mel · 24 Comments

What part of your dream feels the riskiest? Have you ever had people misunderstand or disagree with your dream? What do you do when your dream is scary or when others don’t support you?

I was never that girl…the one boys lined up for, the one girls invited to their slumber parties, the first one picked for a team, the cool one.

And though those feelings were always present while I was growing up, the worst years were middle school and into high school.

Kids were mean, just because they could be…maybe it was fun for them?

I’ll never forget that day during my freshman year of high school.

It had actually started out a few weeks before as I was sitting at lunch with a few of the “friends” I usually ate with. We’d been talking about a few random things, and I confessed that there was a boy in my algebra class that I thought was really cute.

For some reason they thought this was information worthy of bringing up repeatedly, even if he was within earshot. Because, you know, it’s fun to be fourteen and Completely. Obnoxious.

Have I mentioned how much I don’t like mean people? And mean girls are even. worse.

They would talk about it often, seemingly day after day after day.

And what I didn’t know one day as I took my usual spot at the table? That they’d planned a little something.

How nice of them. 😛

One of them leaned over and whispered to me, Hey, wants to eat lunch with you.

I remember giving them a strange look and questioning them, but these “friends” insisted that he was expecting me to go over to his table.

Reluctantly I glanced over his way, and he saw me. My heart was pounding, but I took the risk and I picked up my things and stood up to walk over to him when all of his friends (and he was surrounded by at least eight or ten guys) grabbed their trays and left the table, leaving him alone with me walking toward him.

He looked at me, and we both realized what they had planned. And the look on his face said everything.

Sorry, I’m not interested.

Let’s just say I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I’m pretty sure I went straight to the bathroom stall, my favorite one on the end, for a good cry.

Rejection.

It hurts, stings, leaves a mark. It damages self-confidence.

I’m mature enough now to realize that those awkward, teenage years don’t define me as a person. I don’t think of them often, and I certainly don’t dwell on the day when I realized that those friends really weren’t friends at all.

But when it comes to dreaming?

Dreaming God-Sized dreams like writing books and being a blog contributor? (And maybe even working on a medical ship someday? ;))

I fear rejection. It kinda makes me shake in my pretend boots. (Hey, it IS flip-flop season. ;))

The day I handed over my rough draft to one of my dearest friends…the actual, physical, letting-go of the draft was painful. Here was my heart and soul on paper, and she was only the first in a long line of people who will eventually (hopefully) read it.

What if she hates it? (P.S. Thankfully, she didn’t. :))

What if I really am a terrible writer?

What if I get a bad review or a nasty critique?

What if there’s not a publisher out there who likes it?

Or, worse, what if no one buys my book?

I suppose these are things all writers stare down at some point…but this is somewhat new territory for me. And if I think about it all for too long, I start to feel overwhelmed.

And sometimes?

Completely terrified to keep moving forward…because, honestly, those next steps scare me.

And, for me, next is a book proposal. I kind of did things backwards, not realizing I could submit a proposal without actually finishing the book. But, hey…live and learn and do things in creative ways, huh? 😉

And I have to be honest and tell you that I listen to the enemy’s whispers far too often.

I let him tell me that my writing is no good and that no one will want to read it and that I’m a nobody in the bloggy world.

Thankfully, I know the Truth, but there are always those doubts.

Because with risk comes the possibility of failure. Of rejection. Of a confirmation of those feelings of inadequacy.

I have certainly failed in my life, and I’m not finished with failure, I’m sure.

From being a wife, mommy and friend to writing, dreaming, and doing, there are those days when I feel as if I’ve failed miserably.

Each day I have to remind myself that I’m His.

That this dreaming? It’s for Him.

And so I’ll pick up that rough draft again and pore through it. Pick out a few chapters. Send them with the proposal.

Allow my restless heart to beat fast and furious as I wait for a response, knowing that on the journey to a dream, there’s always risk.

But along with that risk is the opportunity for the Giver of my dreams to bless unexpectedly and wildly.

And that’s what makes this dreaming and doing worth it.

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Happy Tuesday, sweet friends! Thank you for stopping by and reading my words. If you’d like a glimpse into the heart of some amazing dreamer friends of mine, you can find us linking up at Holley’s place. We hope you’ll join us for some inspiration and encouragement!

Filed Under: adventures, barefoot, blessings, encouragement, friends, God-Sized Dreams, just life, remembering, where I am, writing

Five-Minute Friday: Song

May 16, 2013 by Mel · 56 Comments

Today I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five-Minute Friday.

Join me!

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

Today’s Topic: Song

From the day we brought her home, I’ve been singing to her.

When she was teeny, teeny-tiny, I would make up songs that rhymed about everything from changing a diaper to her sweet, stuffed puppy that I hoped would become her favorite. I even took one of our favorite books and put it to a song, one that she will often sing to me now.

~~Always~~ Sometimes I probably sounded like a dork, but I wanted her to know that music is a huge part of our lives from the beginning.

And I wanted her to love it.

By the time she was six months old, she would coo with me as I’d work my way through the rotation of favorites. (Aka: the ones that allowed me to host my own little concerts. ;)) And by the time she was just over a year old, she’d started to sing little pieces of Jesus Loves Me…and, oh, how my heart turned to a pile of mush.

Around the time she turned two, we were walking hand-in-hand from Target to the car, and I started it.

I’ve got sunshine…

And she finished it…on a cloudy day.

And when it’s cold outside…

I’ve got a girl named Mae. (Yes, I rewrote it slightly. ;))

I guess you say, who can make me feel this way? Maelie…Maelie!

But perhaps my favorite so far happened on one of those mornings just a few months ago, the kind that started with messes and frustrations and oh-so-many mommy moments that were less than gorgeous. And as I wrestled her into her clothes for the day, she looked up at me.

Gave me her silly, heart-melting, smile.

And she broke into song.

I love you, a bushel and a peck.
A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap,
A barrel and a heap, and I’m talking in my sleep
About you.
About who?
About you!

Every single word.

It completely made my day, probably my year.

My Maelie girl…wherever you go in life, always remember music. It’s powerful, it’s beautiful, and you will go far if you always keep a song in your heart.

I know you will.

Filed Under: being mommy, blessings, Five Minute Friday, just life, Maelie, music, remembering, where I am

My God-Sized Dream: Another Dream?

May 14, 2013 by Mel · 38 Comments

For next week take this “do what you can” step for your God-sized dream: Share about your favorite nonprofit organization. They are all God-sized dreams in action. How have they inspired you?

Friends, I just want to warn you that this turned into a novel. But, hey, if my dream is to write a book… 😉 Please read it anyway. Maybe it will change your life…I hope so. I know it changed mine.

~Mel~

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It’s safe to say that my husband and I have a heart for other cultures, overseas ministry, and making a difference in the lives of people we meet.

We spent several years with an amazing organization, the Network of International Christian Schools. (NICS) During that time we were living in Bandung, Indonesia, and working at Bandung Alliance International School (BAIS); Tobin as the IT Director/Yearbook Teacher, and I taught mostly upper elementary with one, extremely memorable, year of teaching preschool/art/random math. 😉

It was life-changing, to say the least, and opened our eyes to what truly experiencing another culture looks like. We loved Indonesia, and we also loved the people there; because when you live in another country that long, whether you plan on it or not, those people find a place in your heart. And sometimes occupy a large territory of it, too.

We stayed five years.

Therefore, I AM 5% Indonesia…and no one can take that from me. (However, if I live to be older than 100, I may need to reconfigure the percentage. ;))

Being part of NICS changed our lives…and lives are being changed all over the world. If you happen to be a teacher and are interested in overseas teaching, this is the organization to check out. There are twenty schools around the world in some amazing places.

In reality, the chance to be part of NICS and BAIS was a dream come true, even if we didn’t know we were dreaming it at the time.

And then we moved “home”…though, since living overseas, the word home is extremely relative.

We bought a house and are putting our roots down deep. I suppose things would look different if we didn’t have a family, but we do…and we want Mae to have a place to call home.

God has blessed us above and beyond what we could have dared to hope for…an amazing neighborhood and community, an incredible church, friends who are family and now a part of our hearts and lives forever.

But does that mean we’ll never go again?

There was a time in the last two plus years when I would have told you, Absolutely not; we’re here to stay. Forever. Probably with a theoretical foot stomp thrown in there because I’m like that. 😀 I look around me, and sometimes I just have to catch my breath because I’ve fallen in love with where we are. Pulling up those roots would tear up my heart, and I think I’ve always had it in my head that this is it.

And it really could be.

But God has a funny way of stirring a heart and reminding it that He’s got it all planned, and those plans are mapped out beautifully, according to what He knows is best for us. Not what we think we know.

He hasn’t called us to do anything else yet.

And He may not; so we stay and pour what we have into our lives here and now. I love this place and am incredibly thankful each and every day that we are blessed enough to call this place our home.

But I have to tell you a secret, one that made me literally weep all over the keyboard of my Macbook last week.

Lately, my heart’s been wondering…Could it be that we might go again?

I don’t know…I just don’t. 😉

What I know is that I came across this.

Mercy Ships.

I did not go looking for it. In fact, until last week, after Holley gave our assignment for this week, I’d never even heard of it.

I actually discovered it when a friend from Indonesia posted his sister’s blog on Facebook…she is a nurse for Mercy Ships Africa.

So, of course, I had to check out the website, which linked to a 60 Minutes special. (Which I’m going to post. Which you need to watch.)

I cried the entire way through it…all the while, letting more dreams take root in a corner of my ever-bleeding-for-someone heart. Because, of course, my husband and I don’t have medical degrees. Or plans to get them. Hey, it’s best to stay within your giftings. 😉

But in browsing their website, I discovered something…or a few somethings.

First, people raise their kids on these ships. For a long time, we talked about how wonderful it would be to raise Maelie on the mission field. And there’s a school…school = teachers. I do love to teach.

But guess what? They also need a writer…someone to write publications for press, someone who can give a glimpse into this amazing ministry, someone who can love these people and share their stories.

Can someone please come to my house and attempt to calm down my ever-racing, I-want-to-do-this, heart?

And, lo and behold, they need IT . Folks, he’s good. If the guy can deal with Indo technology for half a decade and not lose his sanity, I’m pretty sure he could deal with it anywhere. Even on a floating vessel. 😉

Those of you who know me will not be surprised that my ENFP brain couldn’t spin fast enough. Let’s go! Let’s go! it shouted…and potentially still IS shouting.

I may or may not have started packing our bags. 😉

And I’ll admit to you that I had to cry this out for a few days before I came to the place of truth. That place that said something like, Mel, not now. Maybe someday, but not now. Ok, that voice was ~~most likely~~ my husband. 😉

It’s a truth I had to wrestle with…the one of joy in where He has us for now; the contentment of praying for His will and going if someday, He does say, Go; but staying if He says stay.

That wrestling ended up being good because a peace took over my heart, and I handed it to Him. I love that I can trust Him to show us if this might be in His plan…when it’s His plan. That day is not today…and it probably won’t be for several years. (Though He could definitely surprise us! Hello, Indonesia? Neither of us saw that one coming…)

But what I know is that I found myself completely fascinated, burdened, and stirred by this ministry that has somehow missed my radar for so long. It’s one where people are literally being the hands and feet of Jesus to some of the poorest of the poor…

Loving people.

Saving lives.

Making an eternal difference.

All of the workers pay their way for the privilege of being part of what Mercy Ships does. These God-Sized dreamers are my new heroes.

Would you consider supporting someone who is part of this amazing ministry?

You can go here to do that.

Friends? I think there might be another God-Sized dream taking root in my heart.

I have no idea what it looks like, but I can’t wait to watch.

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

And here’s the clip from 60 Minutes…the best 12 minutes you will spend this week. If for no other reason than simply having your eyes opened, will you watch it? I want to be honest and tell you that this news clip is somewhat graphic and difficult to watch…and they warn you of that on the video. I ask you to watch it anyway.

Thanks for stopping by today, friends! On Tuesdays I link up with my dreaming sisters at our sweet friend, Holley’s place. Will you join us and see what God is doing in some brave and beautiful hearts?

Filed Under: adventures, barefoot, encouragement, God-Sized Dreams, Indonesia, just life, remembering, what I'm learning, where I am, writing

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Mel

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