seasons

Since February of 2009, when I moved to Bogota, I have missed the Seasons more than many other things in North Carolina. The changing weather -- from a wet, bone-deep chill to start off the year, in NC the daffodils, forsythia, quince, and the dogwoods' white blossoms appear to lighten the naked forest. After that, the trees bud into leaves, and those leaves deepen their green as the springy dampness evaporates and hangs, dense, in the air. After breathing 98% humidity during those summer months, the leaves begin to fade from vibrant green to gold, bronze, leather, pumpkin, and crimson hues. The air changes, abandons that heavy feel for crisp freshness and the excitement of autumnal expectation. The forest loses half her cloak as the deciduous sisters fall asleep. There may be snow - or just freezing rain - coating branches and stopping vehicles. We spend time inside, ideally by a fireplace; our diet changes too, from fresh produce to stews and hot drinks.

Yet, as other Carolinians breathe in the changes every few months, I live in a static, 12-month season. The Rolos (Bogota natives) say that here you can get all four seasons in one day. While it's true that the weather changes suddenly from hot and sunny to chilly and rainy, or anything in between, the air quality and the flora stay consistent. I miss my seasons.

As we close out 2011, I am naturally thinking of what 2012 will bring: what to expect, what to plan, what to attempt.
I expect and plan to continue in Kiwi House, with Formando Vidas. I find myself wondering if I should (watch out for that sense of obligation!) change anything, implement something new, set new goals with the kids or carry out new projects. Surely something should be different? Am I okay if not? Does God approve of what I'm doing, or doesn't he want something different?

Why am I feeling this pressure to change something?
The answer, I believe, lies in SEASONS.

I realized, today, that I may be entering into a new season of life, and that's why I feel a little unsettled.
From 1990 to 2003 (13 years!), I lived in the seasons of school - every year there was a new grade level, new classes, and new friends.
From then until 2007 (4 years), I changed even more frequently -- every six months there were new college classes, and every year I moved in and out of a dorm or an apartment.
For almost 2 years after that, I continued moving residences, as I worked two jobs. My main job was at a community college, which meant that three times a year I changed classes and students, experiencing the varying challenges of teaching and also of waiting tables!
Then, I came to Colombia for 1 year. (Intentionally understated, because that involved too many changes for a blog post dedicated to another topic!)
After my first year here, I went to do a DTS with YWAM -- a 6 month commitment that involved more moves and new people and challenges.
Now, I've been back for almost 1 1/2 years here, and I think I am so accustomed to yearly (or more frequent) changes that it has almost become a neccesity!

A friend of mine wrote me the other day, in a way that really encouraged me, as I was experiencing this doubt or unsettled feeling of needing to change something, yet not seeing what it could be.

...God has put that passion in your heart for [the kids]; He has filled you with an extraordinary love. Don't get discouraged if others don't have the same passion that you do... sometimes the dreams that God gives us are so strong that we can only understand them in our souls.
God has seen your perseverance; don't grow faint. You have planted, invested in the Kingdom of Heaven and I know that that seed will produce eternal fruit. You have been God's hands in the lives of each one of them: hands that give love, hands that accompany, hands that build lives and don't tear them down. Emily, I keep praying for your life, that nobody and nothing will take you out of God's purposes for you...

What words of encouragement and blessing! She didn't know that I was questioning the coming year, and what it SHOULD look like, yet she told me to "keep on keeping on."

I will press on, although I do not know what the future will be like, nor what it "should" be like. God has not directed me anywhere other than Kiwi House, Formando Vidas, Colombia. This new "season" calls for Perseverance Beyond the Short-Term.

Kittens!

TabbyCat gave birth to these little creatures on November 20th.

They're pretty cute, even if they do resemble small rats. We think there are two girls and two boys, based on comparing the calico's "intimate parts" with the others (since calico cats are always female). I have two (maybe three) homes for kittens so far.

She's a good mommy cat, but is getting restless of being enclosed so much. We mostly have her shut into the laundry room because every time she comes out into the main part of the house, one of the first things she does is jump up on the table and countertops and eat whatever food she finds there. (She's eating a ton anyways... I suppose that producing milk for four growing "rats" will give you quite an appetite!)
She's also pooping way more than normal, and has some serious diarrea, and apparent sphincter-control problems (translation: drops of poo all over the laundry room floor and wall, not just in her box). Does anyone know if this is normal for post-partum mammals? (Feel free to share your own experience, ha ha.)
I don't want her to be outside much, because she can actually go into heat and get preggo again before the kittens are weaned and adopted out! After they're gone, I think she will become an almost-exclusively outdoor kitty, just coming in at night to get some attention and warmth (who am I kidding... my house has no heating).

Tabby has started bringing the babies out for some quality time. It's weird. She brings them out one by one to sit in her favorite chair while they do what they do best: drink milk and sleep. This picture is from the first time she did it, and surprised me and Bibi when she showed up with the runt in her mouth.

Trust me! (but not too much)

I believe that we each have our personal "recurring themes" in life, and with God. I don't know what yours are. One of mine is "trust others - but not too much."

No one is an island, a fact that I readily accept -- I'm a rather social creature -- and yet I struggle in certain aspects of really trusting others. (don't we all?) This includes God. Even though, looking over the course of my 26 years, I can see that my Creator has been faithful, more often than not I have to consciously remind myself to TRUST HIM!
So, as He invites me again, and again, and again, and again ("to infinity and beyond!" grin the little boy's Buzz Lightyear slippers cast aside on the floor) to put my hope in him alone, to not rely on human beings nor place my confidence in their plans, I get to choose in whom I will place my trust: myself, others, or God?
The problem has been that I am too trusting, actually. And not in simple matters of believing what someone says, or being a casual friend – my grave tendency has been to put my trust in a human being in the deepest sense of the word, in the sense that the psalms use with the words "hope, trust, confide, wait." I have all too often given others a place that only God can (and should) hold. The result is disastrous, and yet my temptation is always to do it again!

I have struggled against this for so long, in fact, that now I am actually starting to learn to stop it earlier and not let it run its full course! While this is great news, it means that now deeper friendships get more complicated from the beginning! How do I keep myself in check, and keep friendships in balance? I know that God always wants first place, and deserves it; it is His. But how do I know when He is actually inviting me to open up to someone new? And how do I keep the balance of: God in that deep place of "trust, hope, wait," and friends on a different level? Especially when it is a friendship that I feel that God is bringing along...
And, on the flip side: as difficult as it is to 'hang the weight of my soul' on the One who has never let me down, how am I supposed to really trust another human being, when every one of them has the potential to hurt me?! [Just as I am extremely adept at injuring others, whether unintentionally or not! Yet, I love me!, and expect the understanding and forgiveness that I "deserve"!]

So, here are some verses that He's brought to mind as I'm processing this stuff:

1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

Psalm 62:2 "Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken." (See also: Psalms 130 and 131)

Isaiah 33:6 "He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure."

Based on these scriptures, and my experiences with God, I feel that these are His invitations to me in this area:
1. Believe, and receive, His love.
2. Choose, daily, to cling to the Unshakeable Rock, and to none other, as my source and the one who is always trustworthy.
3. Walk in the fear of the Lord -- respecting and honoring Him above all other desires or ideas -- and let Him perfect me in love as He teaches me to trust others.

Holiday moods

Yesterday I decided to break my own rules and start listening to Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Some would argue that I actually listen to Christmas music year-round, but I generally try to restrain myself (the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack is technically jazz, and is great background music).
It happened like this: We arrived back to the house after the parent visit, at which we made plans for next month's year-end visit, Christmas party, and lunch. We were all in good spirits, and I said to Bibi that I wanted Christmas music, even though Thanksgiving isn't for another eleven days. So, she put it on and of course the topic of the holidays came up -- the decorations, the food, the outings to see the lights, opening presents. The older girls were in the room and we were all talking about Christmas, when I started feeling attacked or ridiculed for some things we did or didn't do last year. Like having a live tree that we cut down on the farm, which (for me) was very special but for the girls wasn't as pretty because it wasn't a perfect cone-shape (and, since we don't have a proper tree stand, it dried out, even though we tried to keep it watered). And the fact that we all decided (the girls included) to open presents on the morning of the 25th, for the sake of the little kids, when in Colombia the tradition is to open them at midnight on the 24th.
I didn't want to make a big fuss, but I knew that I needed to let them know how I was feeling, because I really can't spend the next month and a half with those looks and critical attitudes. Well, I ended up crying a little bit, which pretty much killed the jolly mood we had before (or maybe they killed the jollyness when they started being bratty).

Here's the thing: we are all away from our families for the holidays. And Christmas, most would agree, is first and foremost about spending time with family and loved ones. Bibi and I have decided to be here, have chosen to sacrifice our family holiday season for the sake of these kids, that they won't be alone. But they don't have a choice in the matter, which is quite sad. Apart from that, each family (not to mention national culture) has different holiday traditions that are important to them. In this "family," we represent three countries and five families. How do we combine those things to have an enjoyable and memorable Christmas season? Plus, these kids honestly don't have a "family culture of holiday traditions," because of their backgrounds (mostly: lack of resources), yet they complain that we don't have "good Christmas" here. And, I realized yesterday, in most families, the parents don't ASK the kids how they want to "do Christmas" -- the parents form the family culture and the kids grow up in that and adopt those traditions, until they move out on their own and adapt them. Yet another facet of being, but not being, a family

Yesterday I suggested that we each choose ONE THING (be it a meal, or some part of the decoration, or a certain activity) that we really want for Christmas to be special for us; that it be something that won't negatively affect the others; it isn't supposed to be a gift that we want for Christmas.
So now I have one week to decide what is going to be the most important thing for me, that I can reasonably hope and ask that we have or do.

a live tree? -- I don't want to deal with the complaining. Plus, part of what's special about the live tree for me is picking it out and decorating it together, and I think they will have bad attitudes. Maybe I'll just have a little one in my room, and we can decorate the artifical one for the house.

brunch on the 25th? -- but this, for me, works better after opening gifts that morning. If we've stayed up really late on the 24th, who is going to want to be up and enjoying brunch?

having a turkey or ham for Christmas dinner? -- this just means spending money. I don't think there will be too many complaints, although one doesn't like pork, so ham would be a "problem" for her.

the advent wreath? -- I like this tradition, but really it just makes more work for me, when I don't have the support of others in the house to make it a family tradition.

handing the gifts out one by one instead of all at once? -- this one really is important to me, but I don't know that it has to be the "one thing" I insist upon.


Anyways, I have until next Sunday to decide. We don't like how the holiday season is starting off with household conflict (again). The point is to ENJOY being together, even though we will probably all be sad at some point or another that we are away from our families. The point is to remember that God gave up everything he deserved to be with us, because he loves us.

concerning social justice

Concentrated smog pelts my white hoodie and forms into gray puddles on the cracked sidewalk scattered with garbage. A dim streetlight reflects off of a hunched figure on the stoop just around the corner from my friends' front door. He is drinking or huffing something out of a large jug. I recognize his face, but don't know his name. We are on the way to the corner bakery to get bread and milk for a simple soup dinner. It's cold and wet, and he will have no where to escape.

On the way back a few minutes later, I pass him some bread and coffee; he asks me for a blanket (which I don't have to give), then a "limosnita" -- spare change to make us all feel better about the unchanging nature of his life situation. ("...a shortsighted and perverse notion of charity leads Christians simply to perform token acts of mercy... This kind of charity has no real effect in helping the poor: all it does is tacitly condone social injustice and to help to keep conditions as they are -- to help to keep people poor." -Merton)
I don't give him anything, with my thoughts vacillating between, "I just GAVE him food!" and "He'll just spend it on drugs."

If I were out in that cold, raining night, I would probably want something to numb my reality, too.
Yes, his addiction either drove him to the streets, or the streets drove him to become substance-dependent, I assume. But what can I do about it? Giving him money won't help. Giving him bread and coffee doesn't reach to the core of the problem and wholistically bring about change and restoration to this man: created with the mark of the Divine, but beaten so far down that the Image is all but destroyed.

He has shown you, oh man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)

But what does it mean to "do justice" for the untouchables of a westernized society? What is our part? What can I do to work justice?
And even my mercy in this case was watered-down, perhaps. Yes, I gave a bit of my money to put something in his belly -- I didn't just cross over and look away when I saw him, like the priest and levite in the Good Samaritan parable -- but I didn't take him in, offer him his human dignity again, care for his body and soul. Okay, there are all kinds of reasons to NOT do this -- it's not my house, he would take advantage, he needs rehab, I'm a single woman, etc. But what is he calling us to DO about it?
And walking with God in humility? Well, we're working on it.

Thomas Merton broaches the subject in his book Life and Holiness, which I am (slowly) reading. "There is no charity without justice. ... The sacrifice must be real, not just a gesture of lordly paternalism which inflates his own ego while patronizing 'the poor.' The sharing of material goods must also be a sharing of the heart, a recognition of common misery and poverty and of brotherhood in Christ." And he later declares that, "The task of each Christian today is to help defend and restore the basic human values without which grace and spirituality will have little practical meaning in the life of man."

He cites Jesus' parable of the judgment - those who fed the hungry, visited the sick, etc. did it for Jesus and are given eternal life.
God's divine revelation in the Mosaic law represents how we are to relate to God and to each other. He teaches us many times to care for the widows, orphans, and foreigners, and gives specifics of how to do good to our "brothers."
Who is my brother?
This question that I ask sounds eerily like the, "Who is my neighbor?" which prompted the Good Samaritain parable. My neighbor, my brother, my sister, is everyone; and especially those who most need my help.

I still don't know what to do for the street people. How to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with my God.

unconventional motherhood

A friend just sent me this link: http://www.kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/ to a blog about a book by a missionary in Uganda, and this is from the most recent blog entry:

"I want her to be a baby so I can strap her on me and hold her there and she will feel secure and safe and protected. I want to be the person who taught her to write her name and how much fun it is to make mud pies, and I want to be the person who laughed with her when she lost her first tooth. I want to know where the scars came from that she can’t remember the stories about, and I want to be the person who wiped her tears when she fell.

But I know that is not how God intended it.

He did not choose me for those moments, He chose me for these. I entered motherhood through a different door, and I get a different kind of stretch marks."


This resonates with me. I would add, "I want to be the one to contiue to live each step of the journey, each stage of this wonderful, awfully painful, beautiful, forever-surprising journey called life with him/her. I want to be able to say 'you are my son/daughter' without the doubt that one day this will end; that legal situations or living arrangements may change, although my heart won't."
I entered motherhood through a different door, alright. And my stretch marks may seem out of place, but they are beautiful scars that I will cherish as they increase in number and size throughout our lives.

unQUALIFIED

“For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:25)

When asked what profession I have, I never quite know what to say. I studied English and Spanish, but I’m not a certified teacher. I taught ESL for a while after graduating, and now these degrees are useful on a daily basis, but they are not the foundation of what I do. I’m basically a mom, but sometimes people want to know what qualifications I have for the missions work and children’s work that I do.
None.
According to university standards, government job pre-requisites, legal or technical know-how… I really am unqualified to do this -- And boy do I feel it!!! There are so many situations that I don’t know how to manage!
I feel particularly unqualified when dealing with the kids’ sexuality, and hoping to encourage healthy development in that area. With their backgrounds, which –generally speaking— do not provide good examples and precedents of loving relationships, commitment, and healthy sexuality, I find myself asking God, “WHY ME?!” Why on earth would he have me dealing with these issues and supposedly teaching his children to grow up into healthy women and men who know how to take care of and respect themselves and others, and who can walk in the tension of every human being – physical AND spiritual, neither animal nor angel (as Rob Bell puts it so well in his book Sex God).
Yet, when I recently felt so unprepared and helpless and useless and undesiring-of-this-responsibility, the Holy Spirit brought this scripture to my mind:

“At that time Jesus said, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.” (Matthew 11:25-26)

What a thought! What a truth! God delights in using the unwise, unqualified, and uncapable to fulfill his perfect will!
A day or two after that, I received a letter confirming it – Isaiah 55 invites the thirsty to come and buy without money. What we most need, we can’t provide ourselves, but he makes the way. Because his thoughts are not my thoughts and his ways are not my ways. So, even though I would be a lot more comfortable with someone more qualified, trained, or wise to take care of the really complicated issues, that’s not how it is right now. I know that I “can’t” and he seems to think that that’s perfect: that way, anything good, any transformation, will obviously be OF GOD, and not have anything to do with my abilities! Dependency, not self-sufficiency!