heading home

New Location

2009-07-22T23:27:00.003-06:00

For the time being, this blogger website is blocked to me so I'm trying an experiment. I've taken the stuff to a new website. See it here. If it doesn't work well, I may come back to this, but I have very limited availability to get to this blogger site.

heading home

Easter Meditations

2009-04-09T06:25:00.002-06:00

"And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience-- among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.

But G, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together in Chr-- by grace you are saved-- and raised us up with Him and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Chr J, so that in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Chr J."

Eph. 2:1-7

The Inner Eeyore

2009-04-09T01:17:00.004-06:00

The weather is amazingly warm, blessings pour down upon me daily, I'm surrounded by eager students and encouraging friends, but none of it matters because I have a cold. Again.

I have to laugh at myself. Really, I'm not a wimp. In fact, were you to plan a tragedy or horrifically tense crisis, you'd probably want me there. When conflict or chaos is occurring, I can be as cool as a cucumber, very helpful, organized, and creative. Every ounce of positivity that I possess comes to the forefront.

And then, there are those small things that tend to turn me from Miss Optimism into Eeyore herself. Things like the minor inconvenience of having a cold. (Or that last few minutes before a bunch of guests arrive for dinner when I tend to flip out.) Seriously, the stuffy nose, fever, headache thing turns me into a depressed person. I go from praising to planning my funeral. It's wrong, it's frustrating, and it's actually quite funny. At least, I can entertain myself with my over-the-top pessimism while I blow my nose and sneeze.

I passed a friend today on the sidewalk as I returned from lunch. I'd been at my favorite restaurant, eating some of my favorite food, all alone studying for my Chinese lesson. It was peaceful and happy. I walked home in the warm wind, listening to my favorite depressing day music. Life was great, except for the cold. And my friend, passing by, says "How's it going?" "Fine," I chirped, practically hopping with fake cheerfulness. I actually did start laughing after I passed him, laughing at the monologue in my head.

"Fine? FINE? You're dying here. You can hardly breathe, you keep sneezing, and you're head's falling off. You should have said a few last words since you're not even going make it through your Chinese lesson or up to the 4th floor ever again."

It's funnier when you can hear the melodramatic, Eeyore voice in my head.

"Why does he even ask such a dumb question? 'How's it going?' Good grief. He should have asked something more helpful, like, 'Can I mail a letter for you to your family once you've passed away from this cold?' or perhaps, 'Would you like some chocolate that I happen to have right here in my briefcase?'"

Courage. I respect courage. The courage to storm the enemy positions in wartime, the courage to obey or to speak the truth. Most of all, I respect the courage of people who are actually unselfish, un-whiny, and un-pitiful while having a cold. They are my heroes.

Tonight as I drift to sleep...

2009-04-07T09:05:00.003-06:00

I'm going to try to remember these thoughts.

"G's gifts put man's best dreams to shame."

Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Sonnets from the Portuguese- XXVI

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, But desire fulfilled is a tree of life."
Prov. 13:12

I have calm confidence that He will continue to bless me with amazingly good gifts that far exceed my wishes or expectations. While this confidence may only last a minute at a time in its fullest strength, it continues to grow a teeny bit each day.

Learning to Live Without

2009-04-05T08:46:00.003-06:00

"And shall I pr Thee change Thy will, my Father,
Until it be according unto mine?
But, no, L, no, that never shall be, rather
I pr Thee blend my human will with Thine.

I pr Thee hush the hurrying, eager longing,
I pr Thee soothe the pangs of keen desire--
See in my quiet places, wishes thronging--
Forbid them, L, purge, though it be with fire.

And work in me to will and do Thy pleasure
Let all within me, peaceful, reconciled,
Tarry content my Well-Beloved's leisure,
At last, at last, even as a weaned child."

For years, in times of deepest soul-searching, this poem by Amy Carmichael has expressed and focused my prys. Those times when I want something so desperately, realizing that it's not His will for me or not His will for me YET.

A weaned child has learned to live without it's accustomed, constant source of nourishment. It must wait for specific times to be fed. It must learn patience and submission and a new realm of dependence. Sometimes we have to come to think we cannot live without something and then be pulled away from it, in order to find our true strength and mature source of delight. It hurts to grow. We think we may not survive. But we will rejoice one day as we taste the wonders of His finished plan, just as the grown man forgets completely his pain of being weaned when he is feasting on steak and potatoes.

Not Good Enough

2009-04-02T05:41:00.002-06:00

"Out of the depths I cry to you, O L! O L, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

If you, O L, should mark iniquities, O L, who should stand? But with you there is forgiveness that you may be feared.

I wait for the L, my soul waits and in his word I hope; my soul waits for the L more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the L! for with the L there is steadfast love, and with him there is plentiful redemption. And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities."

Ps. 130 is something I have to take on faith tonight. I struggle, like all humans, with coming for forgiveness when I have sinned. Even though my life is rooted in truth, I somehow believe the lie that I must find some kind of goodness on my own, that I must earn forgiveness, that I must meet some standard before my repentance is accepted.

I know I'm not good enough, and I tell myself that it's shame that keeps me from seeking His grace. But really it is pride. Frustration that once again I have failed to hit the mark. Inability to humbly hold up my hands and say, "more grace, please once again, give more grace." I claim these promises: "with him there is plentiful redemption" and "with you there is forgiveness that you may be feared." For this moment He died. His blood covers even this presumptive sin of someone who should be obeying out of love. I can rise from this moment clean and robed in His righteousness. I never need to be good enough to come to Him.

April Fool's Day

2009-04-01T01:57:00.002-06:00

Today is the first of April, a day for pranks, jokes, and hoaxes. I tried to pull one off by stealing Justin's turtle, but my hilarious lack of success decided me against trying anything else.

During part of my classes today when the students were watching a video, I've been memorizing and meditating upon Ps. 37. So many commands: fret not, trust in the L, do good, delight yourself in the L, commit your way to the L, be still before the L, wait patiently, FRET NOT. The passage also lists several rewards: he will give you the desires of your heart, he will act, he will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your justice as the noonday.

On April Fool's Day, I've been reminded that I'm often such a fool. I turn so easily to fretting, to not trusting, to delighting in other things, to refusing to wait patiently. Of all people who should be doing these things, it should be me, someone who sees His grace changing lives all around her, someone who watches Him provide for her tiniest need, someone who sees His faithful forgiveness to herself and others daily. I must learn to see consistently that His way is better than my own desires or plans. I must stop being a fool.

A Typical Late Night

2009-03-27T08:53:00.003-06:00

We have random evenings here on the 4th floor. Last night, my room gradually filled with folks from all over, and we talked and laughed and laughed. We heard about our days and dreams and one person's experiences dressing as a giant possum. Tonight we had a wonderful evening downstairs with our sp rtual family.

As we returned upstairs, the crowd thinned and only our "family" was left-- to eat yet another of Mathew's chocolate cakes-- he's on a chocolate cake experiment kick. All of the cakes have been great. We benefit from his pursuit of the perfect cake.

Now only Kelly and Justin are left. We all are working on our macs. At times, Justin is hitting himself because of the frustration of building a database. Kelly is listening to music and singing along a random part. I'm skyping to Justin a conversation regarding cheese and what it's like to milk a goat while Justin and Kelly discuss restaurant names aloud. I've decided to document this evening by taking photobooth pictures. Even with photobook I'm a terrible photographer. But this is us.

I am so blessed.

White Board Photo

2009-03-25T06:16:00.002-06:00

For all the fans of the white board post...

Allergy Queen

2009-03-25T02:34:00.004-06:00

It turns out that I am allergic to even more things than I originally thought. Yesterday, I planned to have three student sisters over for dinner. First I braved Walmart supercenter by myself, returning triumphant with lots of stuff. Next I began a concentrated program of cooking and cleaning. The menu involved home-made chicken noodle soup, sandwiches, and apple cake. I was running late, so I was working rather frantically and decided to take some short cuts.

"No need to wash these apples for the cake," I thought. "I'm just going to cut the peel off anyway."

My neighbor Heidi came in and was talking to me while I finished the cake and then moved onto sandwiches. During the work, I popped a few bites of discarded apple peel into my mouth as I went along. A few minutes later, Heidi stopped me as I was working on the boiled eggs for the egg salad. "Um, I think you're having an allergy reaction. Your neck is turning red." (Unfortunately, all my neighbors know the signs after the recent Lavender Soap incident.)

"Ok. In a few minutes, I'll take a Benadryl."

"Maybe you should take it now," she said. "I'll go get it." I obediently took the Benadryl and continued working. Unfortunately, the reaction continued as well. I ended up with a swollen neck and puffy face. My throat and mouth were swelling and hurting as well. After another Benadryl and canceling my guests' arrival, the reaction began to subside. I made my neighbors come in to eat the food while I sat there on the bed feeling silly and pitiful under my blanket.

I do have great neighbors. They ate the food, helped clean up, made my copies for the next day, and even laughed at me (wait, that was coughing!). I even received a hand and neck massage from Josie and Heidi. I missed our ladies book study, but they were thinking of me and that was so helpful.

After consideration and teamwork deduction, we decided that it must have been the unwashed apples that were the culprits. I must be allergic to whatever had been sprayed onto the peels. This morning that was confirmed when I ate some of the apple cake for breakfast. I thought there wouldn't be any pesticide on the chopped apple baked into the cake. The little bit that was there was enough to cause a reaction in the middle of my first class! I quickly took the Benadryl I carry everywhere now and wondered how my students would respond if I keeled over in the middle of their quiz. PTL that I did not, and it was an uneventful class for them. Except for that quiz.

I'm thankful that I don't have the severe food allergies of my little nephew Heath Michael, but it does confirm my sister's believe that there was a mistake and she really got my child.

Give Me Brown Eyes

2009-03-25T02:19:00.004-06:00

Today I'm wearing a green sweater. It's warm and soft and, I just realized this afternoon, matches my eyes. Nope, my eyes haven't changed from boring brown to green. I found myself fighting the monstrous sin of jealousy.

The situation reminds me of that verse about the man who thinks he stands watching out lest he falls, since I really wasn't expecting to fight jealousy today. It's not a sin I often struggle with. But I wasn't watching my attitude and let it sneak up on me. I wasn't being sober and vigilant and alert. Before I knew it, wham! I was flat out jealous.

My dictionary widget says that jealousy is "feeling or showing envy of someone or their advantages or achievements." Envy is "a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck." Yup. Who knew the Spirit works through the dictionary?

What is the cure for jealousy? I'm not an expert, but when I recognized it, I repented. "I know You give out the talents, the situations of life, the gifts. Your goodness to me has always been amazing and above what I deserve. I repent of wanting that person's abilities or life opportunities and return to focusing on You and what you want me to do." I'm guessing the fight isn't over on this one. But for now, I'm thankful and content.

Community and A White Board

2009-03-18T01:41:00.001-06:00

My neighbor Justin has been teaching me lessons about community. It all started months ago, after I complained once again about the noisy person who lived directly above me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t stand a little noise. Our dorm has quite a bit of hallway and stairway noise most of the time. It seemed to me that this upstairs person was re-arranging her furniture or building a construction project in her room: lots of banging and dragging and slamming. The noises seemed to be loudest at the worst times, midnight or five in the morning!

After patiently listening to my complaints on one occasion, Justin said something like this, “Whenever I’m bothered by noise here, I try to let it remind me to be thankful that I’m part of a community.”

Perhaps it wasn’t his purpose, but I was rebuked. Community is an important concept to Justin. It’s more than the idea of a neighborhood park or a block party. He feels very strongly that G has provided for us to live in communities, both our community of the people of G and the unbelievers around us, for our good and His glory. There are many good purposes in community: encouragement, sanctification, evangelism, etc. (I’m sure his explanation would be better than mine.)

The thing is, I totally agree with Justin. I also believe community is an important part of G’s plan. I try to demonstrate by love for G and others through my involvement in my different levels of community. Justin, however, is often better at it than I. Not many neighbors would respond graciously when I randomly wake them with a desire to borrow eggs for a baking “emergency”, especially at 7 a.m. on a Saturday morning. This is one extreme example of his consistent kindness.

I’ve been sharing with my ladies book study group things I learn from Justin about community. But this week, I learned some unexpected lessons from the “white board situation.”

For a long time, I’ve had a Disney Princess white board hanging on the outside of my room door. It’s where I post my status, whether I’m in or out, where I’ve gone, or messages for others. People leave me messages there. Sometimes the white board will have a poll or quote or continuing story. A few days ago, I returned to my room to find that my empty white board had a sentence on it. “Justin is out.” Ok. Admittedly, it was funny. I mean, how much more funny can you get than having one person’s info on another person’s door? From inside my room, I could hear people laugh at it all afternoon. It was funnier as Justin’s status began changing. “Justin is in.” And then, “Justin is taking over this board.”

I decided to begin to protest. “Get your own board.” “Justin lives down there (big arrow) in room 407.” This last sentence was highly ineffective since Justin added to it the line, “but he’s not in now because he’s teaching.” You know me, I love a good, pointless fight. I filed a stronger complaint on the board, using words like “writing indiscriminately” and “serious consequences.” I even threatened to put my own status updates on Justin’s facebook wall in retaliation.
This was all still a joke, but after reading other friends’ input on facebook regarding the white board “war”, I decided that enough was enough. “Good grief,” I thought. “Think of everything he shares with you. You can give in and share the stupid white board.” I also had a secondary suspicion that, if the purpose of Justin’s writing was simply to annoy me, then it would cease anyway once I capitulated.

I was wrong. First, he doubted my sincerity. “No, I’m sincere. I’ll share it.” To prove my point, I put sections on the board. “Justin’s part, Karyn’s part, everyone else’s part.” Justin’s response turned a game into an unexpected moment of conviction.

“It’s not about me having a part of the board. It’s about us sharing it in community.”

Sharing. Giving. What is the value of giving or sharing if it’s always on my terms or completely under my control? Yeah, it’s just a little old white board, but it’s MY white board. You can all write on it but never forget that it’s still MINE. How many other times to I give to others or to the L, and it’s a conditional gift? Do I ever really share without limits to protect myself or my interests?

This story, in itself, illustrates the value of community. Interpersonal exchanges in our common, every day lives can be the tools He uses to “provoke us to love and to good works”, to prod us to consider our own walk in a different light.

I went out to the board on my door and erased all the partitions. “Karyn is in and is ready to share,” I wrote on it. Later I returned to see an addition. “She is so cool and nice to Justin, who is in.”

Lions

2009-03-12T23:24:00.006-06:00

March is here like a lion, and northeast China is blustery and cold. My ears are still frozen, and I've been inside for a while now. While it sometimes takes so much effort to walk against the blast, I often feel invigorated by it. In small doses.

I haven't blogged since the new semester began, and I'm struggling to know how to sum up the past few weeks. I'm teaching mostly new students. The subject is video English, and I have sophomore English majors. For three weeks, we've been studying the movie "Mr. Smith Goes To Washington". With all the current events, I thought that a bit of understanding of American government would be helpful to my students. "Mr. Smith" gives a simplified view of the blessings and also the dangers of capitalism, along with pertinent vocabulary. I have decided that one theme that I'd like to emphasize this semester is the idea that your priorities and values determine your choices in life. In this movie, we're seeing different people show what is the most important thing to them: truth, money, power, reputation... While it is a challenging movie for the students to watch and understand, they are nevertheless sucked into Jimmy Stewart's performance by the end of the movie. The students had to do posters and presentations of famous people or places that are mentioned or shown in the movie. One class, in particular, did a super job last week. Today, I came in to find them all staring at me expectantly. After a minute, I said to one girl, "what is it?" She looked at the back wall of the classroom. I hadn't looked up yet to see that they'd hung their American history posters all over the back wall. "Wow, that looks fantastic!" I said, and they were all pleased.

Last semester, I taught freshmen students. Yesterday, I was able to have a little "tea party" with seven of the girls. A couple of other foreign teachers stopped by, and the girls really enjoyed getting together and practicing their English. Several girls want to get together with me one on one to talk about other life things as well. I'm thankful to have had the experience of working in an activities department at a nursing home for so long. I also have the privilege of being a member of Morning Star, which is blessed with an abundance of hospitality experts from which to learn. My flexibility and hospitality skills have been honed for good use here. Often, I remember the examples of those who have blessed me as I try to reach out to others.

In my spirit, the fight goes on. He has answered several important requests already this semester, things that I'd been needing to see change in my heart. Still, the pull of the flesh, of inner slothfulness, of rebellion is ever strong. "Prone to wander, prone to leave the One I love" is often what I feel should be written on the white board outside the door of my room. Instead, mercy pours down upon me, and His grace is never failing. Life is so often a restless ocean of circumstances and people and emotions and decisions, but He is the Rock that gives stability and purpose and inexplicable joy. Some days, I can feel the breath of the roaring lion, seeking to devour me, hot on my face. If it were up to me, I'd probably run right into its jaws; my courage and wisdom are so limited. But I am becoming more confident in His love. I am safe, unworthy as I am, in His embrace.

Doors

2009-01-30T07:58:00.002-06:00

We don't see as He sees. I know this truth, and yet, often, it is this very limited perspective that causes me the most frustration. Trusting that He knows the way, that He actually designs the way, and that His way is best takes faith and patience and grace beyond my reach.

Sometimes I don't realize that I have these little spiritual checklists until He reveals it to me, but I think I had one in this area. "When God opens a door--check. I'm good with following Him there. When God closes a door-- yup, got that one. When God opens the door with amazing provision and then seems to slam the same door shut-- WHAT?" That one tripped me up recently. In my fleshly control-freak way, I want Him to point in a direction and then let me just head off on my own (until I find myself in trouble). This moment by moment holding on to Him, submitting each change to Him, letting go of each dream to Him, even the ones He gave, this is impossible for me to do. He must give me grace because I am unable to exercise such faith and submission on my own.

I was pondering this kind of a situation this morning, and my reading was providentially about the life of Joseph. Wow. Joseph had a great childhood, then, BAM, slavery in Egypt. But God blessed him, being with him and giving him success in the home of his new master. Until, BAM, by obeying he ended up in prison. A door opens in serving Potiphar, and God blesses abundantly, then that door of opportunity slams totally shut. "But the Lord was with Joseph and showed him steadfast love and gave him favor in the sight of the keeper of the prison. And the keeper of the prison put Joseph in charge of all the prisoners who were in the prison. Whatever was done there, he was the one who did it. The keeper of the prison paid no attention to anything that was in Joseph's charge, because the Lord was with him. And whatever he did, the Lord made it succeed." Success again. If I was Joseph, I'd have had my entire prison ministry career mapped out at this point, but again God's plans were totally different and bigger and intended for Joseph's good and the good of many others.

We never hear from Scripture what Joseph's thoughts were during all of this, except when he refuses to disobey God with Potiphar's wife. But Joseph's actions are of faithful service. He behaved as though he trusted God's plan without having to know it himself. He must have still had a positive spirit about him because others entrusted so much to him. Nothing that Joseph said or did distracts us from the point of the story: God. We glorify Him as we read this story: we only see His amazing hand working and providing and leading.

I am forced to look at my life very seriously this morning. So much of what people see is me: my whining, my pondering, my ideas, my goals. If He is supreme to me, if I can rest quietly through ups and downs, through open then shut doors, how much more will others see Him and glorify Him. I see this example in Joseph. I see this example in the lives of dear friends around me. And I repeat, only God can do this work in me, and I must obey and let Him.

Sleepy Thoughts

2009-01-24T23:32:00.003-06:00

In case you've missed the news of the week, I have a new macbook computer which has, in only two days, become, according to Mrs. Ascher, "my best friend." Yet another cool feature is the built-in dictionary. Tonight I used it because I was pondering some verses.

Nourish- a transitive verb meaning to provide with the food or other substances necessary for growth, health and good condition.

Cherish- a transitive verb meaning to protect and care for someone lovingly; to hold someone or something dear

Ephesians 5:28-29 "In the same way, husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself. For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church..."

It's taken me till this advanced age to really get a handle on what I am waiting for in a guy. I mean, I'm not hunting, but I want to be sure I recognize the one when he comes along. Now I realize that I've been analyzing it all too much, even though I acknowledge that the analyzing and pondering and growing of years regarding this issue are what have brought me to my now simplified conclusion.

I'm waiting for someone who resembles Christ in my life. I'm waiting for someone who actively nourishes and cherishes me. It's not enough that he meets some kind of fairy tale checklist. Probably he won't. But he will provide for my growth. He will long to protect me. He will lovingly care for me. That's worth waiting for.

The most exciting thoughts that I have about this passage revolve around the idea that I don't actually have to wait for this. The husband, who may or may not come along, is to follow the example of Christ who already nourishes and cherishes the Church. I'm a part of this church. He is actively nourishing and cherishing me. It doesn't take long to think of daily illustrations of this love that He has for me.

So tonight I lie in bed counting the ways that I am loved and nourished and cherished. And I rejoice. And, perhaps, I will sleep.

Who Am I?

2009-01-24T05:30:00.004-06:00

While I want to blog about my trip to the U.S. and all of the excitement and provision of these past few days, I am compelled to write about something that's been on my mind for a long time. I was forced to think about it again as I am preparing my update to Morning Star on Sunday. I was forced to think about it as I evaluated my own life in the last several weeks.

The most dangerous thing that I have found in my new life in China is an old sin: pride.

At the heart of what I do is this fact: I should be living the same life as any other child of the Father is living. Everything should be about His glory. When I go to work, I should work to bring honor to Him. I should long to be a light to my colleagues and students so He is exalted. As I interact with brothers and sisters, whatever I do and say should point to Him. Whether I'm involved in an extra-curricular event or talking on the phone or eating dumplings, He should be my primary thought. Thus my life and the lives of other brothers and sisters in Illinois who work at a nursing home or who live in Tennessee and work at an insurance company or who live in Iowa and work at home with their children should be fundamentally the same.

Admittedly, the moving of my life to the context of a foreign country has affected every part of it. Life is a bit more complicated, at times. I feel that I am continually learning and adjusting. There are new tasks and skills that challenge my mind and also my character. But the essential truths about this move are that I've been given a job that fascinates me, I'm surrounded by people that I've come to love and who show love to me, and I live in a country that I enjoy immensely. The gifts of my new situation far outweigh the challenges.

So where does this pride come in? Well, as a sinful human, pride permeates pretty much every aspect of my life. But in this particular sense, I am often faced with the temptation to see myself as others see me in my new situation. I can be tempted to view myself as my freshmen students see me, or as Chinese people on the street see me, or even as my new friends see me. Even the way that people back in America see me, as I've been reminded this past week, can be a trap for pride. My flesh loves to think of myself as important, special, and interesting: to puff itself up with the idea that what I do or what I have to say is somehow so valuable.

The reality of who I am is only found at the foot of the Cross, and often I find myself running from that truth instead of embracing it. Nothing about me is important or special or interesting without Him and His work in me. The filth that lives inside of me would condemn me without His grace. I am truly privileged to have even a tiny part in any work that He is doing in the lives of others. I'm not indispensable and can easily be put aside if I fail to direct all the praise to Him.

I'm so thankful for His Word which shines a light on my prideful thinking and for the work of the Spirit who points out my going astray and my boastful ideas. I'm also thankful for friends who are examples of humility and of lives entirely focused on Him. I'm especially thankful for the friends who have the wisdom to see me clearly, as He does, and to remind me of my need to continually be looking to Him for perspective.

"I Feel Lonely Already"

2009-01-11T19:50:00.003-06:00

The fourth floor is very quiet this morning.

I thought of starting out this post with the sentence, "It was a cold, snowy morning in Manchuria," but I could actually see Snoopy atop the dog house with that one.

Anyway, last Friday there was an exodus as the students from our school headed home for the winter/ Spring Festival break. Since our campus is actually in an entire suburb of universities, the whole neighborhood is shutting down. Within the next couple of days, shops and restaurants and street vendors will all close. Inside our dorm building, the hallways are starting to be deserted. Even our beloved fourth floor is getting empty as people head off to America or Korea or Japan. I think the Russians are staying.

This morning our Japanese neighbors and I stood outside the building and waved goodbye to Justin as he headed off to the airport. Poor Kelly left too early in the morning for me to get up and get all dressed to go out and wave to her. Besides, someone important was traveling with her so most of the English department was downstairs to send her off. And we all said goodbye to Mathew here on the hall, him not being the type who wants a large production. Justin has a made a real effort to befriend our Japanese neighbors, so they were up and ready to send him off properly and expected me to join them. (Honestly, Justin, I would have said goodbye upstairs, but I didn't want them to think you were unloved by your American friends.) So anyway, Steve and Tommy and I start back up the stairs after waving at Justin, and Tommy says something in Japanese which Steve translates to me. She said, "I feel lonely already."

It's a good thing that I'm traveling to America on Wednesday, and Steve and Tommy return to Japan on the weekend, and Heidi will be headed for somewhere exciting within a few days. My exams are totally finished, and now I have two days to really clean my room, do all the laundry, shop for a few Chinese goodies to bring to people, and pack. So right now, I'm going to drink some tea, eat banana bread, and read the Word, here on the very quiet fourth floor.

Love is Different Than You Think

2009-01-07T20:46:00.003-06:00

For the last month or so, I've been acting upon a certain principle. If I discipline my mind and thoughts to G's truth, then my emotions will fall into place with that truth. Eventually. Often I act as if emotions are primary. They are so urgent, so demanding, so overwhelming. However, I believe the Truth to be the standard for my life. The facts of His Word should govern my existence, whatever my emotions tell me. It takes more faith than I often have to live based on this principle. But when I do, when I hold on to what I know is Truth through the darkness and chaos of an emotional storm, I find the reward of faith. Light dawns. Pain recedes. Emotions can be disciplined and shaped by truth. They can be subservient followers not the masters of my life. I see this so much in Ps. 119, where David clings to the Word regardless of his changing circumstances and finds Him faithful.

"Great is your mercy, O L; give me life according to your rules."

"I have gone away like a lost sheep; seek your servant, for I do not forget your commandments."

What Love Could Be Like

2009-01-06T05:56:00.002-06:00

During my grading, sorting, and computing, I found that I hadn't finished grading some quizzes from my freshmen video students. I love reading what my students think. They'd just finished watching and discussing the movie Pride and Prejudice and had to answer this question, "What is a good lesson for life that you could learn from this movie?" I'm taking a break from grading to share some of their answers with you all.

"Love is the soul of marriage."
"No family could be sweet if their home lacks love."
"We should think carefully before we make a decision."
"We shouldn't think of ourselves as more important than other people."
"We should try to believe each other."
"In the world, nobody can be perfect. No matter how rich, how beautiful you are, you still should improve yourself."
"We should be patient with everyone."
"When we are getting married, we should know much about the person who we'll choose."
"Be kind to people around you, and girls should learn more, like how to play the piano." (I love this!)
"The first impression isn't the most important thing to judge whether the person is good or bad."
"We should put down our pride to receive other people's opinion about us."
"It's not much about what happens to us, but how we react to it that makes the difference. So we should face the test with a brave heart."
"Don't tell lies to your family."

And that's only from one class. I hope they really learned these things. At least they thought about them. Thanks, Jane Austen, for showing my students a little of what love is like.

What Love is Like

2009-01-06T03:06:00.004-06:00

I've really no time to blog or even to email today. A pile of exams is calling my name. Hopefully, I'll be finished within the next couple of days. But I'm taking time because I've had something to meditate upon the last slightly bumpy week.

How should I love? Meditating on this passage and these thoughts has really helped me to see my obvious need to change. My soul has been humbled and refreshed. My focus will, I hope, become clearer as I think on these things. (and on the exams, of course)

Love is patient,
love is kind, and is not jealous;
love does not brag and is not arrogant,
does not act unbecomingly;
it does not seek its own,
is not provoked,
does not take into account a wrong suffered,
does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth;
bears all things,
believes all things,
hopes all things,
endures all things.

Seven Things

2008-12-12T23:34:00.004-06:00

This is for you, Ann-Marie. But I'm going to be a rule-breaker and not tag anyone else. Also, it's taken me days to do this because I just couldn't think of what to put down.

Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their name as well as links to their blog. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Let's keep it short and simple.

1. I love living in China.

2. I'm allergic to lots and lots of things.

3. I no longer have a favorite color.

4. I start to panic after several hours of shopping.

5. I'm passionate about old people, hospitality, and Chinese noodles (dou shou mian is my favorite so far).

6. I love teaching and HATE grading.

7. I already have my daughter's name picked out, so I sure am hoping that some day I have a daughter.

Tuesday

2008-12-09T22:31:00.005-06:00

I'm often asked by friends in America what exactly I do. So, if I can remember from yesterday, here's a run-down of a typical Tuesday, Wednesday to follow if time allows.

I have freshman video class on Tuesday from 8-9:30. If I leave my room by 7:50, then I will make it down four flights of stairs, across to the other building, and up three more flights to my classroom a few minutes before 8. Falling on the ice or running into someone who wants to talk could delay the process, but it usually works well. This week, I'm preparing the students to watch "It's A Wonderful Life", so I'm teaching the plot and characters of the story. They also are acting out scenes from the movie in groups.

After that class, I usually return to my room (down three, across the yard, up four) to cram for my Chinese lesson at 10. So I run down at 10 to Chinese lesson in the lobby of our building and return to my room at 11. My Chinese lessons are finished for the semester since both my teacher and I are too busy with upcoming exams. So this Tuesday, I was able to run some errands. I tromped up the hill to the dining hall and withdrew money from the ATM on the second floor. I always feel wealthy when seeing my paycheck in Chinese yuan. Then I went into the little convenience store, also on the second floor of the dining hall. I put money on my cell phone bill and bought shampoo. How convenient is that! Then I gave into the urge and walked over to the part where they sell the yummy burrito/wrap things.

The burrito/ wrap people always see me coming from a distance. They know how bad my Chinese is, so they make me the same thing before I even get up to the window sometimes. They're very friendly, and I'm sure they can tell how much I love those things. The outside is like a tortilla, only fried. That's the greasy part. The inside is pretty healthy with lettuce, cilantro, shredded carrots, ham, and other shredded meats. Like Subway, but not, you can choose what you want inside. Yesterday, I wanted to try it with the boiled egg broken up inside, so I had to work fast with my bad Chinese and pointing skills to add something different to my usual order. I'm glad I did, since when I walked down the hill to my dorm and got up to my room, I discovered it was even tastier than normal. Then I called my parents at about 10:40 (it was Monday at 9:40 p.m. their time).

Often, I have plans to eat lunch with students, but yesterday I stayed in my room and graded writing papers, having already eaten the super burrito thing as brunch. I graded until my sleepiness overcame me, and then I tried to take a short nap. Talk about wild dreams, Ann-Marie! I dreamed of fighting cookie-making vampires.

By 1:20, I was going back down, across, and over again to my next freshman video class. This bunch was a little sleepier and so I had to try to perk us all up as we studied "It's A Wonderful Life". At 3, class ended (I totally can say that in Chinese), and I headed off to my office for my weekly office hours.

Since my office computer is all in Chinese, I rarely go there to do work. I work in my room at my desk using my laptop. However, I'm required to go to one afternoon of office hours a week. I'd like it if the Chinese teachers that I share the office with were there (they have class) or if my students came (they often have class), but most of the time, I sit alone, cold and bored. Yesterday I was prepared. I brought lots of papers to grade. However, I was pleasantly surprised when two of my students from the early Tuesday class came to talk to me. Apparently, they've been wanting to talk to me all year but just now found the courage. Emi and Elena are very, very nice girls. They wanted to ask me lots of questions about America and my life and being a teacher and boys. They brought me cute little surprise gifts, and we are going to eat dinner together before the semester ends. I'm going to show them how to make apple pie, and Emi is going to teach us how to make dumplings. (Three cheers for dumplings!)

So after my very enjoyable office hours, Kelly and I went out in the freezing cold darkness to wait for some Chinese teachers that we were going to eat dinner with. Unfortunately, we had the night wrong and will be eating with them on Wednesday instead of Tuesday. So, we decided to walk to eat Xinjiang (western Muslim region of China) food. This was a risky choice since I'd neglected to put long underwear under my dress pants and was freezing to death on the walk to the restaurant. I was revived by the amazing noodles and the good company. After again nearly freezing to death on the way back to our dorm, we parted company to return to our individual tasks of writing exams and grading papers.

I went to bed quite early at around 9 or 9:30 since I knew I had to get up very early at 5. Even though I was so tired, I couldn't sleep until much later. The dorm was loud, and the Pepsi I drank at dinner kicked in. Eventually I fell asleep, only to dream another crazy dream in which I married Melody's brother.

Follow Up Quizzes

2008-12-03T16:31:00.002-06:00

So last night, I was lying in bed before I fell asleep, and I started laughing out loud. Not the good kind of laughing, the sad, "of course" kind of laughing. It was during the time when you review the day, when you evaluate or think over what just happened. I know, a wiser person would think over things before they happen. Anyway, I was thinking over my day, and I was struck with the depth of my own self-absorption as displayed in several conversations and situations. Truly I often act as if it's all about me.

It would be nice to continue on in the glow of a spiritual victory for a few days, but the reality is that moments later I'm rediscovering the depths of my own sinfulness. Moment by moment, I'm supposed to be focused on Him, not on me.

A-

2008-12-02T06:44:00.002-06:00

How often is it that you really are aware of the exact time when you learn a life lesson? How often do you feel yourself passing the test at last? For a month or so now, I've been given the opportunity to go through an experience that I've had several times before. The kind of life experience that I've managed to bungle each time with my own sinfulness. Not trusting, not obeying, not pr-ing, not listening have all contributed to my previous failures. So this time, at 31 years of age, I passed a certain life situation test at last. It is all grace. All grace. All grace.

I was able to see clearly the situation coming. (There is so much to be said for experience.) I was able to realize my own inability and ask for wisdom and advice. I was able to obey and to follow advice. I was able to balance risk and control. I was able to face disappointment with confidence in His direction and contentment, no, joy, in His plan. My words were submitted to Him. My pride was temporarily subdued. My hope is still intact.

I know that tomorrow I'll move on to another life lesson-- that again I may fail the first one or two or ten times. But one passing grade is still miraculous. Especially since it wasn't my strength, wisdom, or patience. Have I mentioned grace?
In one area of my life, I have grown and now can see the fruit of that growth. It's overwhelming to consider how many mistakes and talks with wiser friends and prs and apologies and tears and regrets went into this one positive step. If only I had learned sooner. But I look forward with hope to celebrating His continuing work in me.

You Rock, 4th Floor!

2008-11-26T17:34:00.002-06:00

Things you share with me: laughter, hall parties, the good bread, music, technological genius, downloaded movies, lesson plans, advice, mashed potatoes, chocolate, tea, Cambodian silk for a tree skirt, a scarf, sun-dried tomatoes, Finding Nemo, sarcasm, homemade chocolate chip cookies, chai, a turtle, breakfasts, lunches, dinners, late night snacks, students, laughter, toothbrushes (not literally), a stuffed sheep, sermons, forks, patience, shopping trips, time, a paper cutter...

I'm thankful for you all so much.

Thankful, So Thankful

2008-11-26T17:14:00.002-06:00

Once again, it's been a long while since I blogged.

This morning, I woke very early to a headache and the upstairs neighbor making too much noise again. I returned to bed after medicating myself and waited there for the students' exercise music to start on the loudspeakers outside. "Happy Thanksgiving," I told myself. And suddenly I was swamped with thankfulness.

I look around this comfortable, little apartment with the festive Christmas tree and the messy kitchen. Physically, I have everything I need and pretty much anything I could want, right down to fresh pumpkin to make pie tonight. I'm surrounded by friends that love me and encourage me. My brothers and sisters here are gracious and precious. I get to teach students that try to learn and that randomly take my picture like I'm a superstar. My family and church family are far away geographically but very near in spirit.

And I am forgiven, justified, beloved. I'm part of the Vine. I'm guarded by the Shepherd. I eat the Bread and drink the Water of Life. I have an inheritance and a home. I have a Father, a Brother, a Comforter.

Bless the L, O my soul, and all that is within me! Bless His holy Name!

Once upon a blog

2008-10-28T07:53:00.001-06:00

Tonight I wanted to share with a young friend, an aspiring poet, some of my old poetry to encourage her along. So I decided to look up The Old Blog. The old blog is where I used to post things, before I broke it while trying to give it a new format (long story involving technically difficulties). When I found the old blog, I found several years of my life that I'd not exactly forgotten, but definitely put out of mind. I remembered that I used to be a writer. I was able to see the preserving Providence that has guided and sustained and led me. While I'd love to somehow move all the old archives from The Old Blog to here, I know that wouldn't be wise to re-send that stuff across the web from my current location. But if you want to get to know me or remember how much He's done, you're welcome to read The Old Blog yourself.

Just in case I was worried...

2008-10-27T20:31:00.001-06:00

I know for sure I am loved! Deb made this unbelievable pumpkin for the annual WW contest in honor of me. She says the characters say, "Karyn, I miss you!" Amazing.

Questions My Students Ask

2008-10-15T18:27:00.001-06:00

I've been here three months now. As expected, it's about time for a little bump or two in adjusting. It's the time when your mind seems to say, "Wow, that was fun. Now it's time to go home." And you tell yourself, "No, this is home." I haven't experienced as much struggle with this as I thought that I would, but lately I do find myself struggling a bit inside and recognize it as this phase of adjusting. I am very thankful for past experiences (hurrah BYWAV!) that help me to understand a little of what I'm going through and to deal with it better.

On the lighter side, I often each lunch with different groups of my students. They ask me lots of questions. Here are some that are very common:

1. Why did you come to China?
2. How long have you been in China?
3. How long will you stay?
4. Do you like China?
5. Do you like Chinese food?
6. Can you speak any Chinese?
7. Are you married?
8. What are you looking for in a man? (girls always ask this one)
9. Would you marry a Chinese man? (this is often the follow up to #8)
10. Are you a Chr?
11. Where have you traveled in China?

Less common but actually asked:
1. Do you go to ch every week in America? Why?
2. Why do Americans celebrate Chr-mas?
3. Do you believe in Santa?
4. Do you think Chinese people are beautiful?
5. Would you vote for Obm since he is black? Aren't all black Americans dangerous? (I about fell over with this question. After asking questions myself, I found that this view came from what this person saw in American movies/ hip hop music videos.)
6. Do all American students have sex before marriage "like on tv"? (when I answered "not all", they actually didn't believe me. "Are you sure?" "Yes. I'm pretty sure," I said. "Many do, but not all.")

Another question my students often ask, since I teach freshmen video English, is if I could recommend any good movies for them to watch. So I'm compiling a list of clean and interesting movies that I can recommend when asked. Let me know if you have any suggestions.

A Letter to My Teacher

2008-10-11T04:00:00.002-06:00

Dear Dr. _________,

I'm wondering if you remember the conversation we had earlier this
year when I visited Northland. I told you that I often use things
about culture that I learned in your World Geography class in my job
in long term care. I was there at Northland to meet with someone
about teaching in China. The years I spent working in long term care
were part of my preparation, I think. I've been here in China for
three months now. It's overwhelming to me how each little step on the
long road from Northland to here, even the steps that I believed were
detours, was necessary and important.

I was reminded of you this afternoon. I was invited to be part of an
extra-curricular English language club on the campus of a university
nearby the one where I teach. Today was the first meeting, and the
organizers and myself were all surprised that several young men from
Xinjiang province joined us. They are Chinese by nationality, but not
by race or custom. They're from the Uygher minority and are Muslim.
These guys today have only been learning English for one year but had
better oral English than most of my students who have been studying
for many years. After the meeting, one of the young men was talking
with me and some other Chinese students. The Chinese students were
discussing how Chinese people choose their names for meaning while
Americans do not.

"Most Americans choose a name based on how it sounds, and if they like
it," I said.

"We are like that, too, where I am from," the young man from Xinjiang
said. "We choose our names from a book." He looked at me. "It's an
important book." I don't think he knew the name in English. "Do you
know this book?" he asked me.

I took a guess. "The Koran?" I said.

"Yes! That is the book. Do you know it?"

Right then I just wanted to jump up and down and say thank you for
Middle Eastern History class, but I stayed cool.

"Yes, I've read it."

This was so shocking to him, but he was really excited. I left out
the part where I was forced to read it for a class and just felt so
thankful for providence.

"You have a book, too," he said.

"Yes, the B-----. Many of the people mentioned in the Koran are
talked about in it."

We talked for a few minutes about different stories that are mentioned
in both books.

"I have always wanted to read the B," he said, "to find out what
things are same."

Our conversation continued. The young man and his friends exchanged
contact info with me and with the other American guy teacher who was
there. He invited me to eat with them at a Xinjiang restaurant and
talk more. Perhaps in the future this young man will read the similar
Book. Perhaps a door has been opened.

I wanted to write you to say thank you for the time you invested in my
life. Thanks for the work that went into each class, especially
Middle Eastern History. I hope that the lessons I learned so long ago
will continue to become more and more relevant in my life.

Sincerely,
Karyn

Changbai Shan Trip

2008-10-03T21:14:00.000-06:00

No Good Thing Will He Withhold...

2008-09-29T00:35:00.002-06:00

Even unexpected lavish bouquets of flowers.

Love Comes Softly

2008-09-27T20:55:00.003-06:00

Today is Sunday, but it's also Tuesday. You see, this week our university is going to be off for the National Day Holiday. For some reason, though, we can't have the whole week off, only three school days (Wed.-Fri.). So we are switching Monday and Tuesdays classes to the Saturday and Sunday before in order to have our week off. Sound confusing? It is. Confusing and busy.

I was faced with the problem of teaching two video English classes today that will be off schedule with the rest of my freshmen classes. So, I thankfully accepted the advice of veteran teachers and showed an English film. "Love Comes Softly", specifically.

Perhaps you never really enjoy a kid's movie until you watch it with enthusiastic kids. Perhaps you never really enjoy any movie until you watch it with Chinese students. They get more "into" movies than anyone I've seen. This morning, my students giggled at the romantic parts, they gasped aloud at the suspenseful parts, and many of them were wiping away tears at the sad parts. As I watched them experiencing the film, I was drawn into the emotion of the story myself. One character, in particular, displays a calm, confident faith. To many of them, his words and actions were totally different than what they have ever seen. I noticed several of them watching me closely when he shared his beliefs.

And I was so humbled. What do they see when they watch me? They watch me every class just as closely as they were watching that film. Do they see faith, love, and calm confidence? Do they see hypocrisy? Do they see the One that I want them to see or do they only see me?

School must have started...

2008-09-16T04:16:00.002-06:00

I know this for many reasons. Obviously, one is that I get up and go to class or my office every day. Also, I spend much time working on lesson prep. It's also hard to ignore the thousands of students wandering or jogging or marching around our campus. But if I ignore the obvious facts, feelings alone would convince me that school has started, and I'm actually a teacher again.

I'm sitting on my (totally brand new, cool, and slightly funky smelling) couch. I haven't changed from my work clothes because I'm too tired to move. The kitchen is filthy, the bathroom is scary, and I'm surrounded by student papers, empty glasses, and a box of partially eaten Oreo O cereal. I've got enough energy to move my fingers to type, but not enough to take off my shoes. I know I really should clean or do schoolwork, but I just want to sit here and stare at the wall. Wow! It's that wonderful, familiar exhaustion that I remember from my first stint as a teacher.

There are many differences between my teaching experience years ago and what is happening now. So many changes in the situation, in the location, and even in me. Some noticeable good differences: 1)I've got a seemingly infinitely expanding supply of mooncakes to tide me over should I ever begin to starve 2)The apartment is smaller so there is less to clean should I attempt to clean it 3)I really only prep for two lessons a week. I just teach them over and over. 4)Did I mention the brand new, cool, only slightly smelly couch? 5) I think I'm a better teacher now. PTL!

It was a long day, but it was crowned with a relational breakthrough! Two of my freshmen students (most of whom are still quite nervous to talk to me) came and talked to me for an hour during my office time. We talked about important issues to them: learning English better, life in America, why don't Americans have to learn Chinese in school like they learn English (such a good point), and also how many definitions there might be for the word asset. Then they asked if I would eat dinner with them in the dining hall. Hurrah! Even though, I had to practically jump up and down to keep class 3 awake today, class 2 is eager to eat dinner with me! It is a good start to me having relationships with my students. Another plus of eating with freshmen is that their English does have limits so I learn lots of Chinese words.

So now. Now, I'm going to spend some time cleaning my kitchen and bathroom, watch the first episode of NCIS with Kelly (she's never seen the show!), and then work on the sophomore writing lesson for tomorrow. Also listen to joyful music or a MS podcast. Also avoid talking on skype to Ryan my new (not a stalker, Justin) online friend.

Thanks, Joy.

2008-09-16T04:14:00.001-06:00

Touching music and production aside, these are cold, hard, provable facts.

First Weeks of School

2008-09-10T22:55:00.002-06:00

Joy is right again. I haven't been updating this blog enough. However, I've been quite busy adjusting to my new life here. I'll try to be more faithful with this.

I'm finishing the second week of school here in China. The first week, I only taught two sophomore writing classes. This second week, I've added my six freshmen video classes. Video English uses video clips with the teaching to practice all the language skills together: listening, speaking, reading, and writing. I think I'll really like all of my classes. Most of the freshmen are shy and eager. Many of them have never had a foreign teacher or perhaps even met a foreigner.

I've also begun my own Chinese lessons. Our university has a major for Teaching Chinese as a Foreign Language. The upperclassmen from this major are teaching the foreign teachers Chinese. It helps us because they are well-trained and wanting to practice their skills. It helps them as well. My teacher is a smart and dedicated young lady, and we are both very serious that I will learn as much Chinese as I can. My students also love for me to practice my new words on them. They seem to appreciate that I am trying to learn their language.

The weather here has turned so beautiful. According to local people, this is the best season of the year here. The sky is blue and sunny, but there is a slight coolness in the air. In the next few days, we will be celebrating the Mid-Autumn festival. It has something to do with harvest and full moon. People celebrate by being together with family and by giving moon cakes as gifts. Moon cakes have an interesting design and a sweet filling. So far, I have had the egg filling (ok) and the fruit filling (actually very good), but there are many different kinds of filling. I've been invited to attend a Mid-Autumn party, so I'm looking forward to that.

The other American teachers here have been such an encouragement to me! They've helped me to know where to go and what to do. We spend time together on Sundays and other nights of the week. On Labor Day, we even had a cook-out outside of our building. Several Chinese men stopped by to watch the grilling and give advice to the guy who was cooking hamburgers. It was a classic picnic, ending with S'mores. We had a great time together!

My students and other Chinese friends are also so helpful. Last night, one of the sophomores took another foreign teacher and I with her out to dinner. She showed us a newly opened food court place in our college neighborhood where the students eat. They had all kinds of delicious Chinese foods. She helped us try several things and learn the names so that we can return to eat there on our own. Here in the northeast, people seem to like their foods salty and a little bit spicy. I really enjoy almost all of the food that I've had here.

Well, that's a little bit of an update. I'll try to keep this blog more current. I know that so many of you are thinking of me and supporting me. Your love is so precious to me, and I want to keep you informed of what is happening to me here.

Starting the School Year With a Bang

2008-09-05T20:53:00.004-06:00

First Three Weeks

2008-08-03T00:49:00.000-06:00

The End of A Salty Day

2008-08-01T04:51:00.003-06:00

Tonight I was walking down the hill from the dining hall with some of my camp students. I looked behind me to see another student running after us. He's a tall, thin guy. Athletic, slouchy, too cool. I haven't been sure he likes me that much. I'm always poking him and saying things like, "Wake up" or "pay attention." His English isn't very good even though he seems smart enough. Today he missed a class. When I gave him a hard time, he said he'd been buying medicine for a cold. Could be. Or he could have been hanging out with his very pretty girlfriend.

So after dinner, there he is running down the hill after me with the pretty girlfriend coming along as fast as she could in her heels. I thought it must be an emergency. When he reached us, he explained in his out-of-breath, poorly pronounced English that his girlfriend was going to walk with me because she wanted to talk to me. Then she came up and so I said that, "sure, she could talk to me." He just smiled and smiled, and then he left the girlfriend to walk back to my dorm with me. She was very nice and had better English, so we talked as we walked along slowly. Where was she from in China? Which school did she attend?

Finally, the suspense was killing me. "So why did you want to talk to me tonight?" I asked.

"He is in your class and he thinks you are nice. He loves you and wanted me to talk to you."

Wow. After lunch, I'd spent time talking to Father about this boy by name, and here was an open door of friendship to him and this sweet girl. As I left her and climbed the steps up to my room, I was pondering the mysteries that still lie behind the certainty that this is where I am supposed to be.

Summer Camp

2008-07-28T07:26:00.001-06:00

If you want to see what we're doing every day at summer camp, there's a daily video.

For the Aschers

2008-07-25T07:17:00.002-06:00

Tonight I introduced three other English teachers to "Up the River and Down the River". It was a huge success!!!! They loved it! I lost-- what's new? It wasn't the same without the Aschers, Mel, Joy, and Henry, but it was a fun game. The legacy lives on.

Last Day of Teacher Training

2008-07-23T22:33:00.002-06:00

It's hard to believe that I have been here in CC for two weeks now! Two weeks ago, I was up all night packing and was so exhausted as I ate my last Swedish pancakes for a long time. It seems like much longer than two weeks since I have changed worlds and learned so much. With all the reading and preparation that I did, I haven't been shocked by cultural differences. However, information alone is never enough to give you the experience of a place: its sounds, smells, and sights. My view of China has changed dramatically since before I came and is readjusting every moment. China is bigger and more complicated than I imagined. There are many extremes: rich to poor, high tech to medieval, spicy to sweet. It is also welcoming in many ways. People are so very different and think very differently, but in the end, they are just people. Friendship is just as precious, perhaps more precious.

I have benefited greatly from the training offered by veteran English teachers here. Many things I needed to be reminded of, but lots of things were new and exciting about this field. Teaching here is going to be challenging and rewarding. In the next couple of weeks, we will be practicing what we have learned in an English camp. So, I am going to have to leave this update and put my nose to the lesson planning grindstone.

Thank you so much for all of you who helped me to get here. Formal thank yous are on the way. (Tomorrow I plan to learn where the post office is.) This is an amazing privilege and opportunity, and I hope to keep you updated as much as I am able.

Day One of Teacher Training

2008-07-14T04:50:00.003-06:00

I find that I am continually surprised by China-- the good kind of surprised. Perhaps this will be a continual state that I will find myself in for years but maybe not. Today, I am surprised that I can blog. So for now you can receive first hand accounts of my adventures. (cue suspenseful organ music: "duh duh duh duh") Yep. I knew you were holding your breath for that news, Ann-Marie.

My brain is on information overload, still processing and trying to understand all that I have heard and seen the last few days. I will try to give a little list before I go to bed.

Things that surprise me about China (in random order, not prioritized or complete):

1. People are still thin here when the food is so amazing. Okay, I'm not too surprised by that since it is obvious that they eat in moderation and are physically working or active in their transportation. But the food is still unbelievable.

2. Sorry to mention it, Joy, but Walmart is still great, even when you have to ride two buses and a light rail to get to it. Chinese Walmart is filled with fascinating foods that I so want to try to cook. They also sell forks; something that was a big concern until I got here and have been eating with chopsticks just fine the whole time. In fact, I may spill less on my clothes in China than I did at home!

3. The students are already welcoming to me. Last night we were out to dinner with several students from surrounding universities. Already I have received a text message from one of them today. One girl took us to visit a gigantic flea market. She helped me get the right bus and then shop for tennis shoes and an umbrella. We even bargained for a cheaper price. While I know that some of them are motivated by a desire to better their English skills, they've still been so gracious and friendly to strangers.

4. This next one is not really a surprise but rather a refreshing reminder. There is a supernatural unity with brothers and sisters that overrides cultural differences, race, financial differences, and even language barriers. We are one in Him.

5. I am surprised that I have been privileged to come here to teach. While I have skills and experience that have prepared me for my tasks, I am completely unworthy to serve with the quality of people that I find on the team here. My inability to to contribute to this high calling which we are striving toward is so obvious to me each day. The only thing that keeps me from panic is the knowledge that actually they, too, are unworthy and unable and are simply recipients together with me of the gift.

I must go to bed now. My body is tired and sore and weary. It is the kind of tired and sore and weary that I know will lead to strength and callouses and endurance, if only I can push my out-of-training self past its lazy limits. My brain is weary, too. Weary with trying to comprehend and stretch and adjust. My soul is... well, my soul is deeply challenged and humbled and rejoicing in hope.

I'm here!

2008-07-11T06:56:00.000-06:00

As exhausted as I am, I'm kind of numb to the emotions of it all, but I am so thankful to have made it safely here. All of my luggage survived as well. The Korean based airline that I used was very efficient. Their employees were gracious, and they served actual meals on the plane! (United only gave a little bag of pretzels.) It was a bit odd to have a choice of omelet or octopus for breakfast, but I'm sure the omelet was as good as that octopus! (Just kidding.) Coming into the country was easy. A smiling face in the crowd of one of our group leaders was here to meet me at the airport. I've been thinking that my Northland background will stand me in good stead in the cold winters, but today I felt like I'd arrived in Chattanooga. The weather was hot and muggy so that my hair began to afro immediately. I'm staying with another teacher for the first month in her room/ studio apartment. The great news is that this is the campus where I'll be teaching so I'll be living in this building permanently-- only in my own room. The building is simple but very nice.
I've already tasted my first local meal around the corner from the campus where we are staying. The restaurant would be described as a "hole in the wall" here, but I the people were friendly, the dishes were clean, and the food was amazing. My mom would be shocked to see me eating dishes with things such as tofu and eggplant in them, but I've never had tofu and eggplant that tasted yummy before! Things are definitely different here, and I've only begun to experience it. I'm so glad to be here, though, and for all the provision that has been made along the way. I know it's only 7 pm here, but I'm going to bed very soon.

Love to you all,
Karyn

"That's Friendship"

2008-07-03T16:59:00.002-06:00

I went over to work this afternoon for the last time before I head to China. I picked up my check and went around saying final goodbyes. Most of my co-workers and I had already said goodbye at other times, and many of the residents had already talked to me at an open house my last week of work. But several residents have become special friends, and it was important to take a few minutes with each one.

Larry is one of my favorite people. I think that I have blogged about him before, perhaps. Five years ago when we met, he was a "volunteer" at the Alzheimer's Center because he was just in the very early stages. He taught me many things about how to run an activity group and how to work with people with dementia. As his Alzheimer's has progressed and changes have occurred in his life, he's taught me other things. Things about love and courage and faithfulness. We have prayed and cried together through some major life changes. It was very hard for us to say goodbye today. He hugged me so tightly that I thought I might break. "I will miss you so much," he said. "But I am so glad for you. This is a good thing that you are doing."

"I will miss you, too," I said back to him. "Don't worry. Before you know it, time will fly by and then I'll be back again for a visit." We smiled at each other through our tears. We both know that in the world of Alzheimer's where he lives, things work differently. When I return, he will have changed. Things will never be the same again.

I walked over to another resident to hug her. A nearby resident assistant patted his shoulder. "Don't cry," she said.

Larry pointed at me. "Do you know what that is?" he asked her. "Do you?" She just looked at him blankly. "That's friendship," he said. "That's friendship."

Friendship is so random sometimes and so precious all of the time. Today I said goodbye to people who are aware and alert, like Roy and Izzy and Ruth and Katie. They will pray for me and miss me and communicate to me while I am gone. But some of my best friends there do not even know my name anymore. Today when I visited though, they looked at my face and smiled. Their eyes lit up with joy. One little ancient Italian lady hugged me and kissed me right on the mouth. "I have missed you," she said. "You didn't come to see me. I must pray for you every day in China." And then she said, "What is your name?"

"You're a good girl," Francis told me for the thousandth time.

I was leaving when I saw Olive. "Hi, Olive," I said after she had gotten a good look at me.

"You look different," she said.

"I cut my hair," I told her, surprised that she would realize anything.

"I don't see the hair," Olive told me. "Just your face."

"How is your day going?"

"Things are different all the time," she told me sadly. And her eyes filled with tears and she put her hands on my arm. "I'm so glad it's you."

Apples of Gold

2008-07-02T13:09:00.003-06:00

Yes, I know it's shocking! Karyn is blogging twice in one day after months of neglecting her blog. Don't get too used to that. It may be a little tricky in the future.

I'm taking a break from sorting through all my worldly belongings, an amazing amount of stuff for one "poor" person. There are three piles (and several sub-piles): stuff to get rid of, stuff to store, stuff to take to China. I'm trying to make the first pile the largest. The Karyn Store is officially open in the empty bedroom that was Joy's. Everything is free while supplies last. First come, first serve. After a day, all unclaimed stuff will be heading to Good Will. Joy already has a whole bunch of stuff from The Karyn Store in a layaway pile.

In my attempt to be ruthless in eliminating stuff from my life, I just finished going through an entire box of papers. I mean, who needs a bunch of old letters and cards anyway? After half an hour, it's obvious: I do. What a blessing to skim through that box! It was like the story of my life there in that box: my life as it has been influenced by hundreds of caring people.

What a hodge-podge and what a treasure! There were birthday cards, valentine cards, graduation cards, and cards for no occasion at all. Notes from teachers, school friends, my parents, college friends. Hilarious letters and really sad letters. So many people I can thank for giving of themselves to me.

I had a birthday card in there for every year while I was growing up from Pastor Roth. There wasn't just a signature, either, but a long note encouraging me each year. "I rejoice to see you following God." "Don't be tempted to become bitter about this situation." "God is our refuge." His were always words that were pointing me to Christ and showing me love and concern.

There are countless letters in that box from my mother. A tiny note of thanks from when I was a little girl and had helped her with something. Long letters while I was away at college. "I cry to think of you being so lonely there, but this is part of God's plan for you. Do not give up." "Always follow Him."

A few precious letters show the amazing person that was my grandma. "I try to grow old gracefully, but then my stubbornness just comes through!" My sisters wrote me the times that I was away from them. "We were talking at youth group about people doing funny things and I told them that you snore but you won't admit it." One very special note is from my daddy who wrote how proud he was of me after I sang in church as a young girl. Notes from my cousins and aunts are special. My "cousin" Phil must win some type of hilarious award because the letter from him at age 13 is so funny! "Guess what we're doing today. Picking beans. It is so booooring!" "Remember how Uncle Earl mows?"

Many of the letters are from friends. I've been overwhelming blessed with fantastic friends. There's a birthday card from my first best friend Andy when I turned four. Maybe his mom wrote it. Through elementary school, high school, and college, I had friends that wrote notes to me in good times and in bad times, encouraging me and loving me. Pleasant has written me letters since third grade. "Love your sis." From when she was first married and her car kept breaking down: "I told Joey that I need a new car and also a cell phone for safety and he said he'd get me a gun. I don't know what good that will do unless I want to start hijacking people on the way to work." If I start listing, I'll miss somebody, but it seems we've all come full circle since now I get facebook messages from many of the people whose notes are in that box.

Lots of the letters carry foreign stamps. Missionaries from Brazil wrote to a little five year old who wanted to be a missionary. Friends have written from Romania, Mexico, Japan, Venezuela, Germany, and Belgium.

I'm humbled by finding the letter box. Who am I to have been blessed by God in this way? Who am I that all of these people would reach out to me and love me and point me to Christ? I'm challenged, too. Who is reading my words? The investment of a few moments of my time to write an encouraging note could an eternal reward.

Perhaps someday my children or nephews or niece will look through that box in wonder, cards and letters having been lost in the electronic marvels of IM and facebook and email. Or maybe they'll just be confused as to why I couldn't throw out all my junk but had to save a bunch of words. Those words changed me. They represent people who are a part of me through their involvement in my life. And I am so very thankful.

Singing Along

2008-07-02T08:00:00.005-06:00

I'm heading to China in 6 days, and I'm overwhelmed. Probably I'm supposed to be. I'm finding myself needy: emotionally, spiritually, physically. I'm finding myself doubting, trusting, crying, praying. Up and down my emotions go like a see-saw. My heart is aching from leaving my family and church family and yet every day I am longing more for these people that I only know through email and phone calls, these new coworkers and friends.

I'm already insufficient. I'm still so sinful. I thought I was unattached to possessions and yet my heart hurts, almost literally, to leave even a black and white neurotic border collie and a bunch of old books. This morning all I could think as I woke up was, "What a mess!" and I wasn't referring to my room, rather to my heart.

Notice the self-focus that keeps pulling me away. Away from the reason, the focus, the joy, the planner, the Comforter: away from Him. This morning I went out to the Cooks at 6:30 a.m. to feed the cats. What a blessing! Loaded with coffee, ipod, and the Book, I drove away into the country. I sat on their front porch and listened to birds and watched the flowers and talked to, meditated upon, and worshiped Him. And repented. Again. Still.

On the way home I sang along with Caedmon's Call, rejoicing in grace, in mercy, in the cross.

Awake My Soul
Thousand Miles
Mystery of Mercy

Romans 7:18-25

Christmas on Napoleon Street

2008-01-07T20:03:00.001-06:00

276 to 6

2007-12-11T12:52:00.000-06:00

Most of the time, I write about my personal life news or issues on this blog. It’s a way for me to share with family and friends, especially those who are far away. I’m going to branch out today to write my opinion on a community issue.

If you live in Rockford, there is no need for me to recap the issue, but only to say a few words: “police chief controversy.” Since most of my, admittedly small, readership live elsewhere, I will give a brief overview, let’s call it “the Karyn version”. In 2006, the Rockford Board of Fire and Police Commissioners hired a new chief, Chet Epperson. He decided to follow the mayor’s lead in reforming city government by instituting new policies and/ or enforcing other policies. More accurately, some of these items are policies while others are procedures. For example, the Rockford police department’s drug policy was previously long range. This means, they follow the little guys to get the big guys; they use long- term operations in their approach to drug dealers. Chief Epperson decided that a police presence in the neighborhoods to nip even small time drug dealers would lead to less crime of all kinds in those neighborhoods. Then he started actually disciplining officers for certain kinds of infractions or drawing attention to them. For example, an officer was disciplined for surfing porn sites while working. Or one woman was disciplined for using too much sick time. The woman in question has been on sick leave for three out of her ten years as a Rockford police officer. Another powerful officer was criticized because when an underage drinking party was broken up, he came and removed his teenager while all of the other teenagers in attendance were arrested. Did I mention the chief cut back on the overtime budget? If you know anything about police departments, you can see where this is going. The officers are angry, the police union is called in, chaos ensues.

This is where we in Rockford have been stuck for several months: chaos, arguing, media frenzy, pressure tactics, etc. I’ve been “saying my piece” internally for a while, but now I’d better let off the steam before I explode. To begin with, I grew up in a police family. My dad was a sheriff’s deputy when I was born, but for most of my life, he was the training officer for a small city in Tennessee. When he left the police department, he was a captain and a graduate of the FBI National Academy. My uncle was a police officer, his brother was a police officer, and even my great- grandpa was the first paid police officer in his town. We lived a couple of blocks from the police department and town hall, so my sisters and I were in and out a lot. Later, my sister worked for our town and my step-mother was on the city council. I mention all of this just to let you know that I have a little familiarity with local government and also that I am highly supportive of our police officers and the work that they do.

Being supportive is one thing and being realistic is another thing. There are many good police officers. In this case, I’m using “good” to mean skilled. Okay, after mentally reviewing the officers I’ve known, I’ll rephrase. There are some good police officers. There are some honest police officers, and within that category of honest are multiple levels. Occasionally, the categories of good (skilled) and honest police officers overlap. Those men who are both skilled and honest survive if they do their job well and keep their mouths shut about other officers who may not be skilled or honest. If they don’t keep their mouths shut, they get crushed. Before I anger my entire audience, I will admit that there are exceptions to what I am saying. I’m just describing what I have seen most often. Politics and power plays abound. The status quo is not disturbed without consequences. Since I’m being very honest, I will say that, in my opinion, my father was a skilled, but not completely honest, police officer.

The heart of that last statement is what I’ve already stated about there being multiple levels within the category of honest. In police work, there is a sense of what I can only describe as entitlement. Police officers deal with so much so that we don’t have to. While I was asleep in my bed last night, police officers dealt with drug dealers, rapists, and burglars to keep me safe. They see things that you and I pray that we will never see. Daily, they view hopeless situation after hopeless situation. They watch battered women return to their abusers again and again. They see people do unspeakable things to children. They catch people in unbelievable circumstances motivated by overwhelming hatred or lust or greed.

The police officer is affected at some level by what he (or she, just keep mentally adding in the “or she) sees. Without a strong family or friend or church support system, the job can become overwhelming. Without something in life to give renewed perspective, the view can get a little skewed. Police officers aren’t appreciated like they should be nor are their pressures understood. The pay isn’t great. You are separated from your family often. You could come home beat up, spit on, or smelling like urine or puke. You get tired of watching even “decent” people lie or yell or bargain just to get out of something as basic as a traffic ticket. You face danger so often that it becomes routine. It is sad, but understandable, that divorce rates are so high among police officers.

Then, comparison begins. “I am nothing like…” Fill in what the officer sees every day. “I am under-appreciated, and so I deserve the perk of…” Whatever fills in that last statement defines the levels of honesty of which I spoke earlier, whether it is spoken aloud or simply acted out. Personally, I totally agree with the beginning statements. Police officers are doing a valuable and amazing job. They should be appreciated, and they deserve all the perks we can give them. But, I’ve seen a lot of things fill in the blank. “I am under- appreciated, and so I deserve the perk of… using city equipment at my home …not ever getting a ticket even if I deserve it… my family not ever getting a ticket even if they deserve it…having an affair on work time without anyone telling my wife…etc…” Hey, let’s get to Rockford. “I am under-appreciated, and so I deserve the perk of … being paid to stay home sick for years…surfing the internet for porn on the city’s computers… making sure my kid doesn’t get arrested when he deserves it.”

Some of these things aren’t harmful. In fact, I’ve benefited from them myself growing up and even now at times. I always knew that if I got into any kind of trouble in East Ridge and was pulled over, my dad would be called to get me. That was a thought much scarier than jail. I always knew my dad would run the background information of any guy I went out with. I’ve had him call me and say, “Why were you in the car with so and so yesterday?” Another cop had seen me, run the plates of the car I was in, and told my dad. As a high school sophomore, I was shocked when I wanted to fly to Houston for a day by myself to try out for something and my dad said yes. Turns out he had a “buddy” there that made sure I was watched by police all day long. In college, nearly a thousand miles away from my dad, I had the sheriff of that county check on me several times because he’d been a classmate of my dad’s at the Academy. There is a brotherhood formed by all that police officers go through that is strong and enduring. My father’s funeral was packed out with police. I was aware that those men knew the worst about my dad and that some of them couldn’t stand him, but they were there to support our family because that is how it is done.

With all of these thoughts in mind, the problems of the police force in Rockford are more understandable. When Chief Epperson began to cut away at things that no one had dealt with in a long time, it sounds to me like he was asking for a higher standard. Or maybe just an average standard. If I surfed for internet porn at work, I’d be fired. If I used that much sick time so that I was a detriment to my company, I’d be fired. If I broke the rules to give myself special privileges, I’d be fired.

By involving the police union, the officers have given themselves a wall of protection. Many honest cops will stand behind them, simply because going against the police union is unthinkable. They will allow themselves to fall for the rationalizations that we are hearing in the news. “It is Chief Epperson’s managerial style that is the problem.” “He isn’t handling the paperwork of these issues according to established policies.” (There seem to be no policies in place in Rockford for firing anyone.) “He should leave the day to day running of the department to the men under him.” (This is code for “let us do what we’ve always done.”)

The police union and its leaders have caused me to make this lengthy and opinionated statement simply because they have gone too far. They are putting pressure on the public in order to get rid of their chief. They are throwing around terms that scare people like “endangering officers’ lives” and “unable to protect the public properly”. They think that if we hear these things long enough we will start to say, as I’ve already seen in editorials, “I don’t care what the issues are, but if he can’t handle them without all of this fuss, then we should get rid of him anyway.” Will Chief Epperson back down? I doubt it. Will he win? Unfortunately, I really doubt that.

At night, I let my dog out into the back yard. As I stand on the porch, I can watch drug deals going down in the alley. I’d call the police again, but Joy is right when she says, “they know, but they don’t care.” They don’t want the policy of going after the little guy. Too bad for us. Maybe if they did stop that guy in the alley, there wouldn’t have been a shooting there a couple of months ago. I love my housemates, my dog, and my car, otherwise, I’d give into the temptation I always have just to march over there and let the stupid little creep have a piece of my mind. I can think of lots of creative ways to put a cramp in his business style. As it is, I’m afraid of the cost of that change, so I stick with the status quo. I hope that the people of Rockford and the police officers of Rockford don’t follow my example.

"Thank you for caring."

2007-11-01T11:40:00.000-06:00

If any of you knew me when I was growing up, you'll know I always had big dreams for my life and career. I was going to be a doctor, a writer, a lawyer, a princess, a senator, a journalist, a detective, a teacher, a missionary... you name it, I was probably going to be it at one time. Well, I was going to be it and somehow become famous and possibly rich. I've never "gotten off track", I just consciously decided to let God change my priorities and direct my path. Here I am now, having tried several interesting professions and learned lots of helpful life lessons, working with seniors, particularly ones with Alzheimers. I've figured out that it was WHO I am that God is concerned with and that WHAT I am doing is just a tool in His hand to shape me and make me more usable.

For the past few days, I've been training a new employee. This is one of my favorite things about my job because I get to rehearse not just what we do here but also why we do it. Then I'm reminded of all the reasons that I love this job: all of the hundred or so precious people that I see every day. Here we have a favorite saying: "To the world, you might just be one person, but to one person, you might be the world." I have the privilege to bring understanding, humor, and the love of Christ to people who may be beyond the reach of anyone else. It was a little embarrassing to find myself getting teary while explaining to my new employee just how her attitude would influence the residents at an activity. But I guess it was important for her to see that passion, no, compassion is the key to this job. Mrs. Whitely said it over and over to us when we were in high school: "People are more important than things." I kinda believed her then, but now that is one of the principles that shapes my life.

I still have big dreams for my life. Within the next year or so, I hope to be involved in missions with a fantastic group of God's servants. I always hope to write that best seller. I have faith that God will send along "Mr. Just Right For Me" to have adventures and a family with. Of course, my greatest dream right now is to learn to obey God because I love Him, with no other motivation needed.

Back to today.
"Sue, where's your walker? You need to remember your walker." Her glasses make her eyes huge, and she peers at my boss and me owlishly with frustration.

"If I could make a club..." she says. "They always... I don't..."

"I know," I sympathize. Working with Alzheimer's patients helps you become a mind-reader. "Everyone says that to you, don't they? 'Where's your walker?'"

"We just don't want you to fall," my boss explains.

"I haven't fallen in five hundred years," she states assertively.

"Let's make it five hundred and one years. Just carry your walker along with you."

"Okay. Okay." Sue smiles at me. As we start to walk away, she pats my arm gently. "Thank you. Thank you for caring."

Cleaning out your email folders

2007-10-24T09:53:00.000-06:00

It's a task I put off until I have to do it. But, like cleaning your room, it's a task that causes you to find things that were lost. Or people who were lost. Or yourself whom you lose all the time. I found this in a letter I wrote to a friend a couple of years ago. Pastor says we should preach to ourselves. This letter to someone else from "years ago me" caused "present day me" to feel conviction. Maybe I've shared it before-- if so, blame the contagious Alzheimers. (umm, that's a myth, in case you don't know)

"Providential timing amazes me so often. I've been concentrating very hard on similar thoughts lately. Going through the events of the past three years have really shaken up my beliefs on "what life is supposed to be like", on living life for other people's expectations, etc. Now, I am dealing with the other side of that: will I live my life for my own temporary ideas of pleasure? What is truly most important to me-- not just in my words, but in my practical life choices? Do I glorify God in how I speak, how I spend my money, how I spend my time? I don't want to look back on my short life with regrets. I don't want to be deceived by my own desires into wasting my life on things that aren't truly important. I want to live with zest and passion for the things of God. I want joy to explode out of me to those around me. I want to be a pilgrim, however that plays out in my life. So now, I'm sharing with you, friend.

You have so much potential. But potential is only potential for so long. Once the time is past, it's just wasted potential. Don't live for what anyone else wants for you, only Christ. Reevaluate everything if you have to to make sure that what you are doing is what He wants for you. Anyway, that's the advice of someone who doesn't always follow it."

One of "those" days

2007-10-16T08:05:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Joy said to me, "It's been one of 'those' days." I understood what she meant right away, but this morning I am experiencing it myself. As my boss said after I spilled the mocha all over the keyboard of my computer, "You should just go home." You know it's one of "those" days when...

The dog wakes you up thirty minutes before your alarm goes off because he has to go out.

When you stumble into the bathroom, you discover that the person who just exited used the last of the toilet paper and went back to bed. The nearest toilet paper is in the closet down the hall.

When you at your neighborhood coffee shop to get a "Happy Bosses Day" mocha for your boss, a man loitering at the nearby tobacco shop makes an obscene gesture at you.

You spill the mocha on the way out of the shop.

The man is still there and repeats his gesture.

You spill mocha in the car.

You spill mocha on the way into the building.

Residents are tramatized because the two newest baby birds in the aviary are dying in the bottom.

Your boss is thrilled about the treat until you spill mocha in your keyboard.

You knock everything out of the closet on to the floor trying to find the hot chocolate for Jeremy.

And it goes on...

Life is fun. And funny.

Soapbox

2007-10-10T11:58:00.000-06:00

Working in the long term health field, especially with Alzheimer's patients and their families, has caused me to think through issues that I wouldn't normally face yet. One phrase that I hear often from people who talk to me about my job is this one: "I'd rather be dead that go through that." People have a variety of ways of expressing this, and most often I just kind of smile and nod and move on with the conversation. The longer I hear it, the harder I find repressing my now intense reaction to that statement. If the person isn't a believer, someone who knows the Lord Jesus Christ, I can cut them some slack. But my tolerance is wearing thin with hearing this statement from Christians, so don't be surprised if some day I snap and smack some sense into someone.

As Christians, we should recognize and revel in the sovereignty of God in every aspect of our lives. Our goal should be to bring glory to God, and as we face trials and difficulties in this life we spend much time in learning how to do that. In our growing, we learn to submit to God in all the twists and turns of life's pathways. This is a common theme of our times of fellowship around the Word, of our songs, of our books. If we face death in an early or unnatural setting such as persecution or disease, we exhort one another to glory in the affliction as it brings us and others closer to God and brings to pass His purposes in the world. But, if we live to a senior citizen age category, we suddenly have expectations. Now, we envision that each godly Christian is entitled the perfect death scenario. We want be in our right minds, surrounded by loving family and friends in graceful dignity or otherwise slip away to heaven gently in our sleep. An extended illness we might face, but certainly not one that might steal away our memories or personalities on its way.

While hopes of this kind of an end to life are totally understandable, we must face the reality that this is not always God's plan for each believing Christian. Can we dare to contemplate the sovereignty of God in relation to our plan of death? Could God be glorified by a person and family suffering through something as devastating as Alzheimers? Doesn't He find joy and value even in those people of diminished mental capacity? Wouldn't it be an outstanding testimony to His grace for a person and family to show a joyful submission to this difficult situation?

I've never actually heard someone say, "This may not be my choice, but it is God's choice for me. I reliquish control of even my mind to Him. I can trust Him with even this." I have, though, watched a tiny handful of people live this out. The beauty of their lives truly demonstrated the fact that God is magnified through weakness. They reached people that no one else will ever reach. I have never seen, though, a family unit that felt this way as well.

We live on the edge of a time when a large section of our population will be heading into old age together. Our churches are full of people who, now in their fifties and sixties, will be facing these issues along with their families. My burden is that we must think through these issues before we face them. We must challenge one another to face the adventure of the end of our lives with as much confidence in God as we faced the beginning.

I'll get off the soapbox, now, but, just so you know, there's more where that came from.

Ultimatum

2007-10-08T09:40:00.000-06:00

So last night Joy says to the other three of us as we sit in the TV room together for a minute, "Someone has to get a boyfriend before that kitchen light bulb blows out again." Changing the kitchen light bulb involves a ladder and reaching and moving the ceiling tile and not dropping this glass globe-- not fun. "I don't care which one of us, but we need a boyfriend to use for tasks like this." We all looked at each other. "Yeah, okay." While we're dreaming of this imaginary man, let's make him like to mow the lawn and shovel snow, clean basements, wash the dog, fix appliances. Let's make him like theology and pancakes and kissing. As the appropriate birthday card I received from Joy and Mel said, "She liked imaginary men best of all."

Catching Up

2007-10-04T09:04:00.001-06:00

It’s been so long since I’ve written or blogged. The longer that time passes, the more reluctant I am to begin again. “Should I go back and cover all the life events that I’ve missed sharing? Should I pick up where I am now? Does anyone care to hear my ramblings anyway?” But my friend Ann-Marie and her encouraging use of blogging have prodded me into starting again. Just picking up where I am with a few flashbacks to important events of the summer.

My nephew Heath Michael Schubert was born on August 27, and I had the joy of visiting him and his parents a few weeks later. It was a good trip. I enjoyed seeing Beth and Brad’s life there in Colorado. Their church was an encouragement to me and to our family. I loved hearing Brad share the Word two times. This trip helped me get to know him little better. He and Beth are at a challenging stage of life, but he seems to be committed and faithful and growing. They are going to be great parents. The baby, of course, is a cutie—and my mom says he looks just like me. My parents joined us there, which was another great blessing since I haven’t spent time with them in about a year. They are challenging to my heart. They are both so devoted to studying the Word and applying it to every aspect of their lives that I am convicted and encouraged when I am around them. The Lord also encouraged me by allowing me to read a terrific book called “Intimate Faith” about the spiritual disciplines for women. This book, the solid preaching on repentance that we have been hearing at church, our ladies Bible study, and spending time with my parents have all been things that God is using to help me to return to a closer, more obedient walk with Him.

I forgot to mention that I finally finished the repeat classes to receive my Northland diploma, and we celebrated at the Cooks’ with a wonderful dinner with friends. I have piles of thank you notes to finish, but they will never express the gratitude I feel to all those who have helped me with this lengthy project.

There was a dating relationship in my life this summer. I suppose if a relationship is not going to work out, then this was the perfect way for it not to happen. I had several friendly dates with a Christian guy who treated me very well, but when it came time to commit more time and effort into a deeper relationship we both knew that it wasn’t the right thing for either of us. While a mutual breaking off that leaves us friends is ideal in this situation, it also shows just how little spark was there.

Our house situation is always exciting. The four of us are coming and going, and Buddy just hopes that we find time to play with him. The kitchen was repainted, and Annie and Mel are taking off the dining room wallpaper. That room will be repainted and the ceiling fixed in November. This summer, I flexed my repair woman muscles. I replaced the insides of the toilet, and (with expert assistance by Mel) took apart the inside of the freezer to fix the fridge. I have come to believe that many things are possible with patience, tools, and instructions, umm… and slight injuries. So tonight when I go home I will go down into the basement to set mouse and snake traps and to examine the pipe that Joy has reported is leaking. I also need to figure out why the drains are slow in the bathroom. I do wish that I would grow taller, since I have trouble replacing lights in the house. I can’t reach the kitchen light even on my stepladder.

Mexico Trip Part 2- The Rain

2007-07-07T12:13:00.001-06:00

We were supposed to be the first of the teams to leave Los Fresnos at 8:30 a.m. But we were delayed by complications due to the pouring rain. Finally, we pulled out from the church at 10:30, drenched and packed into the vans. Our team to Media Luna was together with the team going to the nearby town of La Posa. We planned to stop there first and then continue on our way.

Perhaps I should describe our Media Luna group. Of course, there were Zoey, Colette, and myself. Zoey and Colette are teenagers from Morning Star, and I will have lots more to say on how well they did on this trip. I so enjoyed traveling with them! Celeste from Michigan was also on our team. She had brought her three teenaged daughters and had planned the Vacation Bible School for the week. We also had our interpreter, Iliana, who is dedicated and amazing and crazy fun. Along with all of these women, To Every Tribes sent along two of their missionary students as guides/guards/referees/providers, etc. Really, Mark and Kirby should get some type of survival medal for spending so much time with eight women, six of them teenagers.

On that first rainy morning, we didn't know each other as we traveled into Mexico. The border crossing was unbelievably smooth (thank you to all who prayed). We didn't have much distance to travel after that, but the rain and stopping to eat our packed lunches slowed us down. Finally, we turned off of the paved road and headed for the villages.

La Posa is a small town where the missionaries Steve and Robin Henry live and work. We stopped for a few minutes as the team there unloaded and met old friends. Then we continued down the muddy track to La Media Luna (Half Moon). It didn't look like much when we reached the little village on the Laguna Madre: gray and muddy and beat up from past hurricanes. But there were welcoming smiles awaiting us. We pulled up at the two room house of the missionary Chris, who was working with a team in another village that week. He loaned us his home, and even more importantly, his outhouse. Oscar and Minerva (Meme) and their family greeted us. They are some of the few Christians in this place. Meme was the one who cooked for us each day at noon. Oscar helped us with, well, everything, and we spent lots of time throughout our stay fellowshipping with them. The next door neighbors, Vallerio and Lulu and their daughter also befriended us during our stay. It's a good thing they were gracious and patient because we were a noisy American bunch at times (the women, not Mark and Kirby).

That day is kind of a muddy blur in my memory. We worked on organizing the food and other supplies. It was decided that all the girls would stay in the house since the rain and wind would make putting up tents difficult. Mark slept in the van the first night, and Oscar and his family cleaned up a place and hung a hammock for Kirby in an empty building next to their house. At one point in the day, we slogged through the mud up the hill to look out over the lagoon. We could watch the rain coming across the water toward us. As we slid back down the hill, we watched the village come out to see the afternoon's entertainment. A little bread delivery pick up truck was stuck in the mud pit that the road had become. Kirby assisted the men in their many and varied attempts to get it out. Finally, they had success by pushing it with another truck and putting stuff under the tires. Then there was nothing to see, so everyone went home.

Hours later we had sprayed the house and the outhouse with vast quantities of roach spray and put down our sleeping bags on the concrete floor. That night, I couldn't sleep well. I thought I was too old to be comfortable on the floor. I was also listening to all the animal sounds of the village, and I was roasting hot because we'd shut the front door so there was no breeze. I was waiting also. I knew there were roaches, big ones, and the anticipation was making me sick. Finally, I drifted off to be woken a few minutes after 3 a.m. by Zoey next to me. She'd found the roach crawling up onto her sleeping bag. I was actually relieved to have my fears realized. Yes, the roach was huge, but it was no match for the pink Flip Flop of Death. After the first roach incident, I felt like I could now sleep. But I hadn't counted on Zoey, who had now moved her sleeping bag so close to me that she was touching me. She kept me awake by whispering things like, "Did you hear that noise?" every few minutes. "Yes, I heard it. Go to sleep." "I can't sleep now. What if another roach crawls on me?" "Wake me up and I'll kill it." Silence for awhile. "Did you hear that noise?" "YES." Silence. "Are you awake still?" "I AM NOW."

I was wrong about being too old to sleep on the floor. It would just take a couple more nights until I was tired enough to sleep through anything, anywhere. But that's another part of the story.

Mexico Trip Part 1- Orientation

2007-07-05T10:42:00.000-06:00

Okay, so I flopped at journal-keeping during our trip. I was too busy knitting as fast as possible in my spare time to make a blanket for one of the ladies in my knitting class who was expecting. However, I did write in my journal the first night in Los Fresnos. Here's a bit.

"Tonight we were dropped off in Los Fresnos. We met people, helped prepare lunches for tomorrow, and saw the school before dinner and orientation. I think we'll have a good team. There was a time of singing and worship, and then a Pastor Ed Fleming shared a challenge with us. Every time I get nervous about this group (TETM), then their theology wins me over. They choose people to speak who have solid Reformed teaching and a Godward focus. Ed Fleming told us:
1. This will be a week of divine perspective: seek it.
2. This will be a week of divine providence: know it.
3. This will be a week of divine purpose: feel it.
4. This will be a week of divine pressure: obey it.
He challenged us to be open to God's changing us and to God's using us. The prayers of the other men chosen to speak were powerful as well. So far, I've still not heard David Sitton speak, but his BUP, as Ed Fleming called it, "Burden for Unreached Peoples", is impacting me through the people he's chosen to speak or whose lives he has changed.
I just hope I can sleep well on the floor tonight."

Mexico Trip Introduction

2007-07-04T11:36:00.000-06:00

I know I don't blog enough. At least that's what my mom says. Now, I've just been through a life-changing experience by traveling on a short term mission trip to Mexico with To Every Tribe Ministries, and I must somehow put into words all that God has done. I think I will take it a little at a time since I'm still mulling over and pondering upon the events of these last few weeks. Most of you know that three of us from Morning Star have been planning on going on this trip since Rod Conner from TETM came to our missions conference last fall. We were impressed by theology driving their work and by the philosophy and passion of the work itself. You know me: I'm cynical at times. If something seems too good to be true, then it probably is. Unless you are dealing with the grace of God-- and it seems that we were. From the moment Zoey, Colette, and I were dropped off by Jack and Jane Cook at the meeting place for orientation, I was impressed anew by the humility, flexibility, joy in service, and Christ-centered focus of the TETM leaders and students. At the last meeting at the end of the trip, seeing some of the people on different teams that I'd met the first night was like reuniting with old friends. I find myself at work the last couple of days kind of wandering around restlessly, wishing I was part of what was going on there in Los Fresnos or in Media Luna. So much has changed in me.

Heidi tagged me!

2007-06-04T12:51:00.001-06:00

If you know me, you know how I feel about e-mail forwards and internet tag games. But I am doing this just for Heidi. :-)

Rules"
After posting these rules, each player then lists random facts/habits about herself/himself, then chooses several people to "tag". The player will then list the names of those he/she tags and leaves a comment on their blog.

My unfortunate nicknames have included Skinny Britches, Red Witch, Care Bear, and Kitten.
My dad was a police captain.
I can read very, very quickly.
I attended Jeopardy tryouts in high school.
I have never had a boyfriend.
I am a Southerner without an accent.
I have a Taco Bell addiction.
I learned to drive at age 23.

I am tagging Beth, Leah, and Georgia.

Memorial Day Fellowship

2007-05-28T15:19:00.001-06:00

Growing in Singleness

2007-04-16T12:03:00.000-06:00

From time to time, I enjoy reading the singles page at Crosswalk.com. They often have thought provoking articles that are a blessing. This article, "Women Who Intimitdate", by Carolyn McCulley of Sovereign Grace Ministries was convicting and challenging.

Revelation

2007-04-14T20:10:00.000-06:00

When you're only half awake, your true reactions come out. Or so is my totally non-founded theory. People with early Alzheimer's often lose the ability to filter, to determine the correct social response. Because of that, whatever passes through their mind comes right out of their mouth. The real them is right out there in front of everyone. I always have compassion for this, mainly because it scares me to death. Although I strive for transparency in my life, the me you see is so often the edited version. All that to say, that when I'm really tired or only partially awake, my filter is weakened and my true reactions come out. And this week, I surprised myself.

One morning this week, I woke up before 5:30 a.m. Actually, I haven't been sleeping well, so that's not the surprising part. I thought, in my grogginess, that a noise had wakened me but I didn't know what it was. Then I noticed the hallway light was on. Here is a sample of the sleepy thought patterns. "Dude. Why did those girls leave that light on all night? That is so annoying! What a waste of electricity, and it is shining into my room!" I climb down from the tall bed and step around Buddy and march down the steps and turn the light out. Still my eyes are barely open. "So annoying. Why would they do that? They never do that." Climb back up into bed and under the covers. "They didn't leave the light on, I would have noticed it earlier." Try to go back to sleep. "Why was the light on?" Now I hear the noise of the screen door settling shut. "Someone got up and went out and left the light on." Roll over. "Who would go out at 5:30? Not Mel. Annie is at work. Must be Barb. Barb is so annoying for going out at 5:30 and leaving the light on. Why would she do that?" Roll over. Then very still as I hear noises on the front porch. "Barb didn't go out! Someone is on the porch, though." Try to go back to sleep. Then I heard someone making noise like they are coming in the front door. "There is an intruder coming in and out of our house at 5:30 a.m.! What a jerk!" Without any more thought, I was out of bed and rushing down the steps in my pajamas toward the intruder really mad. Finally, my eyes were wide open and my adrenaline was pumping... And there was Annie looking up at me. "We got off early," she said. By this time I was shaking and had to slowly climb back up the steps into my room, into bed, under the covers. Then it hit me. Why on earth, if I thought there was an intruder, would my first barely awake response be to rush out of bed and TOWARD the intruder. Here I am, practically unconscious, and all I can think is, "Who is breaking into our house and turning on the lights? I'll get him!" What was I going to do to the intruder anyway? Who knows, but it made me laugh an hour later when I actually woke up.

What a week!

2007-04-14T19:45:00.000-06:00

This has been the kind of week where you think, "what could happen next?" By last night, I'd decided that nothing short of a natural disaster could top the events that have gone on in our lives this week. Then my knee went out as I was getting ready to brush my teeth, and I ended up on the bathroom floor in a heap. Mel heard the crash and came to rescue me. It was a toss-up between laughter and tears, but we decided on laughter (with a side order of loud yelling for the pain). Between the sinus infection, the visit to the freaky doctor, the inability to get my prescription even yet, the missed check in the checkbook that caused mountains of fees, late night work on the ladies conference, the car not starting, Mel getting sick, the house running out of toilet paper, Barb and the keys locked in her car, and now a swelled up knee, I felt like giving up. I wanted to put my head under the towel over the vaporizer and stay there for at least a week but resting has not been an option. Jeremy tried to help me out earlier in the week by reminding me that God is in control. But my mom really drove that home when she reminded me that God is in control, but He loves me and has a purpose for things like this. It wasn't until today when I watched Buddy with his ball that I really got a clue. Nothing embodies the spirit of worship and devotion and single-minded focus like watching that dog with his ball. Everything else is secondary. Everything else is negotiable. The ball is supreme. (If you know Buddy, you understand how profound this really is.) Here I am, with my focus on everything all around me. Sometimes it is a good thing like work or church or home or my class, sometimes it is a not good thing like a selfish entertainment or a mindless pursuit, but so often my thoughts and heart are scattered, with Christ Jesus being only one of many things in my life. This week, my focus was narrowed. My health, my car, my money, and my time were forced into situations way beyond my control. I was forced to look up: to stop- to sit- to pray, no, to beg- to pay attention. And I was struck by the thought: "Isn't this dependency where I am supposed to live all of the time?"

Definitions

2007-04-04T11:03:00.000-06:00

Last Sunday, we had an afternoon service at Morning Star. I wasn't there since I was at work for the Palm Sunday service here. During the Morning Star service, Pastor had a time when each family introduced themselves for the benefit of the newer attendees. About six people now, including Pastor, have informed me that he referred to me as the "matriarch" of our house of single women. My favorite version was Barb's. Annie asked her what matriarch meant. "I think it means 'old maid', " she replied. It doesn't. But the variations of what it does mean are funny. Courtesy of dictionary.com, we have the following:
1. the female head of a family or tribal line.
2. a woman who is the founder or dominant member of a community or group.
3. a venerable old woman.
4. a woman who rules a family, clan, or tribe.
5. a woman who dominates a group or an activity.
6. a highly respected woman who is a mother.
7. a female head of a family or tribe
8. a feisty older woman with a big bosom (as drawn in cartoons)
Obviously, some of these do and others do not apply.

However, the comment made me contemplate this interesting housing situation that we have had for four months now. We're an complex and varied group of women, each one so unique. We each have sin problems and life issues. We each have strengths or areas in which we excel. Without any one of the mix, it really wouldn't be the same household. There's me: older, dominant, and feisty actually do apply. However, the only one who thinks I'm the mother is Buddy, our neurotic dog. The girls are very patient with me. Sometimes, I'm too bossy or get crazy ideas or am a grump. There's Melody: creative, compulsively neat, and fun. If we didn't have Mel, sometimes we would run out of important items or live in extreme mess or miss out on themed meals. There's Barb: emotional, spiritual, and loud. Barb thinks that I don't like her loud singing and dancing, but, just because I don't do it, doesn't mean I won't miss it. Barb is visibly growing in maturity. There's Annie: practical, quiet, and adventurous. Annie tackles big projects that everyone else wants to ignore, and she sees things from a viewpoint that challenges the norm. Perhaps in my own selfish design, I would choose to have my own little house where everything was always my way and quiet. I would miss out tremendously. This house of friends has been a great challenge and blessing to me for the entire four months. I hate seeing my own selfishness as it is displayed so often when I live with others, but I'm thankful that I can repent. We have the perfect opportunity to practice love, forbearing, and giving right in our own home. I am challenged by the others' examples, and I enjoy the fellowship. We run around on our own schedules, but then we come together to recharge. We gather in our livingroom to pray together or in the TV room to watch a favorite show. In spite of the things about each other that drive us nuts, we have more in common through Christ to hold us together.

Triple Aunt

2007-04-04T08:00:00.000-06:00

For the past four years, I have been the aunt of one small, very unique boy named Austin Lake. He is a blessing to me. He makes me laugh, he impresses me with his words of wisdom, and he's just so stinkin' cute! Lake reminds me so much of his mom, one of my favorite sisters. :-) My only regret about Lake is that I live too far away to see him often.

Now, a new chapter is opening up in our family. Beth and Brad are adding little McKenzie or Heath to the group in September. I'm really looking forward to this event. Even in their short marriage, I have loved watching all that God has done in their lives and hearing of the growth in them. This little one will enjoy being part of their home, and also I will enjoy the payback of watching Beth take care of a baby instead of being the baby of the family. More :-)

Added to all this excitement, Leah and Chad and Lake are adding baby "Ernest", long story-don't ask- to their family in November. I have more to say, but little time to do more than express my joy at this great news. Let us all pray for wisdom for Leah and Chad to name the child something that he/she will appreciate as he/she grows up!

Valentine Surprises

2007-02-15T18:54:00.000-06:00

I suppose even getting this sick could be considered one of my Valentine blessings, since I finally went to the doctor. Since the visit was long overdue, I received powerful drugs which means that soon I should be feeling better than I have in a very long time. I'm thankful for health insurance, immediate care clinics, and, of course, powerful drugs. But my list of Valentine blessings is long this year. My sister, Leah, sent me two dozen roses of every shade and color: gold, yellow, purple, white, pink, orange. They look and smell fantastic! Mel fixed us a wonderful Valentine meal, complete with candles, decorations, gift bags, sparkling wild berry juice, and gourmet chocolates for dessert. The kids from the Boeke family at church sent specially crafted Valentines to us in the mail. Last, but not least, a package of bizarre and amazing Valentine treats was left on our front porch. The tag said, "If you pick this off the step, you will be my Valentine. Love, Johnny Depp." No, you don't need to call Johnny's wife. It was really from the creative duo of Matt and Amanda.

James Thurber once wrote that "love is what you've been through with somebody." Truly, then, I am surrounded by love. Thank you all.

Once again, for your viewing pleasure...

2007-01-25T22:05:00.000-06:00

These pictures go out to the Buddy Garard fan club, a very active group with membership in several states. Please enjoy. He sends greetings to you all. (I think that's what he's saying.)

No Shame

2007-01-16T13:25:00.000-06:00

I just came back from my lunch break during which I was driving behind a bus at one point. The ad on the back said, unbelievably, "Spring Creek United Church of Christ: Where Christians take the Bible seriously, not literally."

There is just so much to say about that that I am actually speechless.

Friends can be frightening!

2007-01-06T16:07:00.000-06:00

Some people should be banned from camera phones. That's all I have to say, Henry.

Our Buddy

2006-12-16T09:51:00.000-06:00

I promised my nephew Lake on the phone this morning that I would put pictures of Buddy up on my blog. It's been difficult 'cause the dog himself is really irritated that I am messing with the computer instead of playing with him. He keeps putting his cold nose under my arm and making sad noises. I'll write more later about Buddy when he's not around.

Merry Christmas!

2006-12-11T14:04:00.000-06:00

Eight Degrees

2006-12-02T07:46:00.000-06:00

That's what the temperature is outside right now. And since I just went out to move my car to this side of the street (even side on an even numbered day, according to the snow plow laws of Rockford) and take these pictures, I can tell you it's pretty chilly out.

It's a privilege to live in this great house we're renting from Mark and Bev. Of course, there are more responsibilities. Notice the picture of my masterpiece, the shoveled sidewalk. You should have seen me out there last night after work, shoveling that long stretch in the dark. My technique needs work, but I had a lot of time to pray and think. An hour later, I came back in exhausted, victorious, and very thankful.

The Big Day

2006-11-28T12:19:00.000-06:00

So tomorrow's the big day. And I'm sitting here blogging at lunch, 'cause I'm getting kind of nervous and this (and prayer) is keeping me from panic. The big day = moving for those of you who haven't heard. For those of you who know me well you'll either be saying, "Whoa, big surprise," in a sarcastic tone or perhaps, "Not again!"

I've actually lost count of the number of times I've moved since coming to Rockford. Let's see if I can remember...

First I lived with Pastor and Mrs. Martin when I first came to town, and all my stuff sat on the stage at the school for months. Then (2) I moved into my very own apartment at Clayton Court in Winnebago. What fun we had there! Sometimes, I had "traveling through" roommates such as Anouk or Joy. I loved having the space to be hospitable. I lived at Clayton Court for two years. Then came the chaos of a church split. I resigned from my job. Really, I had no idea what would come next so (3) I packed up all of my stuff and put it into a storage building and went back to Tennessee for a few months to think. And ended up right back here in Rockford (4), living with the Goodwins. Do I have to count moving just the stuff? Because we had that tornado destroy the storage building where my stuff was stored, and the emergency move (5) to the Aschers' barn. Next, both the stuff and I moved in with Joy (6) in the basement of the big house on National Avenue. You remember, the big house that was sold just a few months after we moved in. The original owners told the new owners that we would be moving out and told us that the new owners wanted us to stay. When the confusion cleared, we were moving out on a snowy night in January. We moved to the wonderful Franklin Place apartment (7) where we lived for around a year and a half, I think. Then I moved in with Mel at the apartment out in Loves Park (8), but after a couple of months we found the nice little apartment where we've lived for the last year (9). This September we re-signed our lease, thankfully planning NOT TO MOVE THIS YEAR!

God providentially put a smoker underneath us a month into our second year of the lease, thus giving me this nasty cough/asthma issue and the need to move again. Of course, getting out of the lease due to health reasons timed perfectly with Mark and Bev moving to Oklahoma-- and here we are moving into their house tomorrow (10).

God gives us good gifts. In our new house, we'll have big bedrooms, Buddy the neurotic border collie, BARB, a yard, ANNIE, space for more guests, and a chance to live in an exciting multi-cultural neighborhood. Did I mention the books get to come out of the plastic tubs in the basement? And BARB and ANNIE? And Buddy? Wow! So now I just have to finish work today, run errands, and head home to finish packing. I'll give you another update after moving and after the cable man comes to re-connect the Internet.

A Personal Journey

2006-11-18T08:03:00.000-06:00

I'm not afraid to face questions about what I believe, even ones I didn't expect to face in a blog format. You just have to be aware that I make no claim to having all the answers or of having answers with which you will agree. That being said, I feel that Beth's question in the comments of the previous post deserves more than a little comment-sized answer.

The same anger that I sense directed at me in the question is similar to the anger that I directed at God two summers ago. In my grief, I found myself with many "whys". "Why did Dad die so suddenly? Why in this way? Why at this time? Why did we not have more chances to witness to him? Why did we not see our prayers answered? Why? Why..."

People try to be helpful and spiritual when they see that you are going through a trial like this. They remind you that God is in control. At that time in my life, I found it was like rubbing salt in the wound. You see, one thing that I realized rather quickly in this time of questioning was that I truly do believe that God is in control. That fact focused my anger directly on Him. Why could He not have followed my prayed-for plan for Dad's life, the one where he turned to God and changed, the one where he spent the last years of his life being a wonderful husband and father and grandfather, a beautiful testimony of God's grace? Where was the mercy of God?

These questions were the ones that sent me to the Word. I wanted to study the sovereignty of God because I wanted to know exactly what areas of life God takes credit for being in control of. To be very honest, I wanted to know how much I could blame Him.

So what did I find? What does God claim responsibility for or over? The answer was exactly what my first thoughts had been: nearly everything. He takes credit for the physical universe, from creation to holding it together to the weather to the creation of a specific human being in his mother's womb. The Lord God specifically takes responsibility for sending judgment in the forms of famine, war, and plague. He takes credit for changing the hearts of men as it furthers His cause. He literally says more than once that He holds the breath of creatures and men in His hand and gives or takes it at His will. I could go on and on with verse after verse of what I discovered about the control of God, but let me move on to two important things.

I found one thing that He does not take credit for and one thing for which He takes all of the credit. I never found God taking responsibility for sin. Perhaps this is obvious considering the magnificent and complete holiness of God, but it was a truth that resounded in my heart. In the story of God's dealings with man as told in the Bible, man bears full responsibility for the sin that he has chosen: mankind, every man, every woman, me. Tainted and contaminated with our own willfulness, we, and every other human being, lift our fists in God's face and go our own sinful ways. How does Romans 3 say it? "There is none righteous, no, not one. There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." The Holy Spirit began to remind me of my own sinful heart. He gave me a good look at the filth and rebelliousness within me. As Romans 7 says, even "when I would do good, evil is present with me." Whether or not my dad turned to Christ in his last moments, he lived his life as a selfish rebel sinning against a holy God. The fact that I could not escape was that my heart is exactly the same as his was. Even as someone who has lived with the blessings of salvation for over 20 years, the wickedness of my heart appalls me. It was not enough to say that my life is different than his was because at some point I made a decision to turn to God. When I see the witness of both the Scriptures and of my own heart, I know that there is nothing in me that would choose God. My natural instinct was and is to run away from God and to sin at any cost. So now I was left with yet another "why". "Why me?" Why did I come to know Christ at a young age and my dad only in the last part of his life, if ever? Why did I come to Christ at all?

This is where I found the thing for which God takes all of the credit in the Scriptures: salvation. When my soul and Dad's soul stand side by side, there is no merit on my side at all. Thy are exactly the same in their complete wickedness and bent toward sinning. If there is any difference, it is all of grace: unmerited favor of God poured out upon a needy sinner. I could again call up verse after verse that extols this amazing fact. Salvation is of the Lord! From His death on the cross to the very faith that I have in my heart that enables me to repent from my sin and accept His salvation, it is all a gift of God.

It is very late (or early) as I write this out longhand in my bed. I hope to type this up before work tomorrow morning. Now I am full circle back to Beth's question: "Do I believe God chose Dad to go to hell, if indeed he died unsaved?" No. I believe that the Bible teaches that we all choose our sin and our condemnation to hell is justice from a righteous God. The responsibility for our sin is rightly our own.

And yet, I believe that it is through no merit of my own that I have come to salvation. I do believe that the Bible teaches that I was called and chosen to come to salvation. Without God's drawing me, I would never have come.

Do I completely understand how these truths intertwine or how they work together? No. But simply because I do not fully understand something does not mean that the Bible doesn't teach it that way and I should believe that it is true.

The finite mind longs to make the jump from the fact that if someone is chosen, someone else is perhaps "not-chosen". There is obviously an element of this in the Scriptures. Romans 9 deals with this concept. I don't understand all of that. What I do glean from Romans 9 is that God is the one in charge of this situation and that not understanding truth is better than messing with the truth so that it fits into my ideas of how it should be. I am now fully persuaded in the justice and in the mercy of God. I am able to leave the uncertainty of my dad's eternal condition in His hands for that is where it rests anyway. There is no one like our God. There is nothing to compare to Him. He is worthy of praise and honor. He is worthy of me trusting Him in this matter.

The Personal Effects of Calvinistic Theology in My Life

2006-11-13T20:01:00.000-06:00

1. Humility
2. Exaltation of God
3. Prayer
4. Increased Desire for Holiness
5. More Fervent Spirit of Evangelism

“Before this period [when I came to prize the Bible alone as my standard of judgment] I had been much opposed to the doctrines of election, particular redemption (i.e. limited atonement), and final persevering grace. But now I was brought to examine these precious truths by the Word of God. Being made willing to have no glory of my own in the conversion of sinners, but to consider myself merely an instrument; and being made willing to receive what the Scriptures said, I went to the Word, reading the New Testament from the beginning, with a particular reference to these truths.

To my great astonishment I found that the passages which speak decidedly for election and persevering grace, were about four times as many as those which speak apparently against these truths; and even those few, shortly after, when I had examined and understood them, served to confirm me in the above doctrines.

As to the effect which my belief in these doctrines had on me, I am constrained to state for God's glory, that though I am still exceedingly weak, and by no means so dead to the lusts of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, as I might be, and as I ought to be, yet, by the grace of God, I have walked more closely with Him since that period. My life has not been so variable, and I may say that I have lived much more for God than before.”

These words from the autobiography of George Mueller express my own experience as well. I set my heart and mind to study these truths nearly three years ago when my dad died. Now, as I try to put into words what I have learned, I am once again brought to tears of joy in contemplation of the beauty, and mercy, and holiness of God. Were I a theologian, I would explain it in crystal-clear terms to illuminate your mind. Were I a song-writer, I would create a masterpiece of music and words to fill your heart. Were I a painter, I would imagine art to overwhelm your senses. But I am me: flawed and needy and ordinary. So I pray that grace is given me to invest all of my view of the glorious worth of the Savior into each word that I speak throughout my day, into each touch as I hold wrinkled hands in comfort, into each choice I make that demonstrates my life’s priorities.

Here's some perspective...

2006-11-06T21:07:00.000-06:00

This article today really caught my attention. Maybe we should listen.

Chicago Vacation

2006-11-04T21:14:00.000-06:00

Here are a few pictures from my parents' recent visit. They spent a mini-vacation with me in Rockford. We walked and walked and walked and walked on a beautiful fall day in Chicago. Another day, we visited Anderson Japanese Gardens here in Rockford. They loved the Swedish pancakes at Stockholm Inn and the apple donuts at Edwards Orchard. I loved having them here to enjoy our service at Morning Star on Sunday. It was just a joy to be together, in spite of the cold Dad suffered through.

Intoxicating Words

2006-11-02T10:01:00.000-06:00

I'm doing research this morning for our Veterans Day celebrations next week, and I came across this poem again. It's most familiar for the excerpts used by President Reagan in his speech after the Challenger explosion in 1986. In its entirety, the poem is overwhelmingly descriptive. I needed to see some of the sky this morning.

High Flight

By John Gillespie Magee, Jr

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward, I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Special Note for High Flight:During the Battle of Britain, many Americans crossed the border into Canada to enlist with the Royal Canadian Air Force ... they knowingly broke the law in order to fight Hitler's Germany. John Gillespie Magee, Jr., born in Shanghai, China, in 1922. When Magee was just 18 years old, he entered flight training and was sent to England, on 30 June 1941. He flew the Spitfire being promoted to the rank of Pilot Officer. German bombers were crossing the English Channel regularly to attack Britain's cities and factories. On September 3, 1941, Magee flew a Spitfire V test flight which inspired him to write his poem. That same day he wrote a letter to his parents which included this now famous poem. Three months later, on December 11, 1941 (three days after the US entered the war and four days after Pearl Harbor), John Gillespie Magee, Jr., was killed. He was just 19 years old. John Gillespie Magee, Jr. is at Scopwick, Lincolnshire, in a churchyard cemetery.

Halloween Humor

2006-11-01T10:51:00.000-06:00

The night before Halloween found me at Goodwill, trying to come up with a last minute costume. Goodwill is such a great place for things like that. After milling around and rejecting several ideas, like the black cat suggested at work, I found the cutest camo skirt. This gave me the idea of being a soldier- not realistically, but more in a "support our troops" kind of way. The complete outfit included the camo skirt, matching drab green shirt, and little girly combat boots. I added the tan hat that Jeremy says makes me look like Radar from Mash, but looks just like the one my friend Frank wore in pictures from Iraq. With my American flag pin, you could definitely get the idea. Our residents and staff really liked the outfit, but there were a few funny moments.

I walked by two ladies sitting over in the retirement home side of the building and overheard their conversation.
"Look at her," the first lady said. "She's in the army now."
The second lady laughed. She knows me because her husband is involved in our Alzheimers Center. "Do you know where she works? She's in front-line combat."

Apparently, the camo actually works if the person can't see very well anyway. I was standing by the wall, waiting for the elevator, when I greeted a gentleman in a wheelchair farther down the hall.
"Good morning, John."
"Good morning," he replied with a confused expression. "Where are you? I can hear you, but I can't see you."
I thought this was a rather witty joke until I realized that he didn't have his glasses on and that the wall behind me was the same olive green as my camo outfit.

One Night With the King

2006-10-18T09:27:00.000-06:00

Although I don't have much time, I'd like to say that this was one Biblically based movie that pleasantly surprised me. Relatively few of the details given by the Bible were changed. While additional fiction was added to fill in what the Bible doesn't say, it didn't significantly change the tone of the Biblical material. The book of Esther in the Bible doesn't mention the name of God or contain references to any other parts of Scripture, but the movie showed Esther and Mordecai praying to the Lord, references to several other Biblical narratives, and even a beautiful part where Mordecai reads from Isaiah. There was no foul language in the movie or off-color scenes. Even parts of the story from the Bible that could have been suggestive were down-played. The sets and costumes showed a magnificence that did as much justice as could be done to the extravagance of the story, and the acting wasn't bad, either. Surprisingly for a movie made by a secular company, it magnified the work of God and the faith of his people. Go see it, rent it when it comes out on video, or buy it (according to your preference), but it would be nice to support this type of movie with your cash so they can make more like it.

P.S. Plugged In Online (where I regularly go for movie reviews) highly praised it as well; however, their reviews can be spoilers since they are often so detailed.

okay,okay

2006-10-14T14:41:00.000-06:00

I spent too much time reading other people's blogs today. Both of my breaks here at work were used up in this sometimes helpful, othertimes wasteful, practice.

Anyway, I read through some blogs of Christian guys my own age, some with whom I attended Bible college or with their wives. Most of the time I was encouraged to read of the work of God in the lives of these others and to see the expansion of good Christian families. Other times I was discouraged to read petty or belabored arguments and discussions that sound like Charlie Brown's teacher to me. "Bwah, bwah. Bwah bwah bwah bwah." Or more accurately, they sound like this, "I'm twenty-something years old with a four year degree from Bible college and/or still in seminary. Therefore, I'm qualified to criticise and malign all sorts of experienced and faithful pastors and teachers in this particularly pompous tone of voice."

Let's just say that humility is attractive and rare.

On that opinionated note we no longer wonder why I'm still single. :-)

New beginnings

2006-10-13T13:30:00.000-06:00

I'm officially moving to this new blog site, since I've damaged my other one beyond repair, then I lost the email address of the help guy. It's a long story.

Gradually, I'll transfer over the archives from the old one, but they will be missing the interesting comments that they orginally generated. Anyway, sending out emails to let people know about the new blog caused people to email me that I haven't heard from in many months, weeks, or years. One positive blessing already! This new format is also much easier to use, which helps when you're as "computer accident prone" as I am.

Senior Moments

2006-10-01T13:43:00.000-06:00

A few minutes ago, I was headed down the hall of the nursing home where I work. A very old gentleman was propelling himself in his wheelchair in the opposite direction. He rarely ventures from his room and even more rarely initiates conversations, so I was surprised when he stopped me.
"Do you have a minute?" he asked.
"Sure. How can I help you?"
He pointed to the back of his wheelchair. "I'm kind of worried about where I'm going to fill this thing up."
My response was a blank look.
"With gasoline. So it will go faster," he explained.
"You're in luck, Joe. It's not a gasoline powered wheelchair. Much cheaper," I responded.
"Oh, okay. That's good. Thanks." And he continued down the hall.
So now there's one guy not bothered by high gas prices.

eulogy for a baby bird

2006-09-30T13:44:00.000-06:00

In my job and in my family life, I've become quite familiar with death. Unexpected and awful death, gentle and longed-for death, tragic death, peaceful death. I work with people who are ill or very old, so nearly each week I lose a friend to death. Some are ready and I rejoice for them. Some are fighting to the last. I've learned how to mourn appropriately and move on. But this morning, I found myself in tears when I reached work and found the baby bird from our aviary dead in the bottom. He'd had an accident last week, and I've been nursing him along, hoping he'd make it. I don't even really like birds, so I'm not sure where all of this emotion came from. Probably exhaustion. The twelve hours I worked yesterday have combined with coming in early again today to produce a numbness that is only thawed by large quantities of Diet Dr. Pepper. So here I am. Teary over a baby bird. My friend Edna, who is turning 100 this month, watched me from her wheelchair as I removed the baby bird from the aviary . "That's a terrible responsibility," she said. Perspective came washing over me as I looked into her serious face.

Matthew 10:29-31 "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows." (or even zebra finches)

Happy Birthday, Dear Karyn

2006-08-03T10:04:00.000-06:00

Okay, so a month later, after increasing pressure, I'm going to blog about my 29th birthday.
I truly hadn't expected it to be one of my best birthdays ever, even though I'd been looking forward to having the "golden birthday" ever since I'd moved to the Midwest and heard of such a thing. On my birthday evening, I talked to a friend who expressed it this way, "You are a blessed woman." And he is right.
My family members reached out to express their love from across the miles on that day and sent thoughtful presents and cards. My coworkers celebrated with a wonderful birthday bash. Some of my friends--no, FAMILY here from Morning Star came together in a surprise celebration. My very kind roommate Melody called my mom for a list of my favorite foods which she cooked for about fifteen people. As a transplanted Southerner, I rarely cook southern food (most of my friends won't eat it anyway), but I miss it. Melody made barbequed pork, sweet potatoes, and beans and cornbread. Jane and Bev chipped in the 'nana puddin' and the sweet tea. It was a feast we all enjoyed. Then I was loaded down with fun presents, like extravagantly bright pajamas, lotions, a loaded picnic basket, candles, and Barnes and Nobles gift cards! Henry even brought the backgammon board for a birthday game, but he wasn't in a festive enough mood to let me win. I think I would have enjoyed a party like this at any age, but it was sweeter at 29. My priorities are clearly defined now, and the fellowship of Christian friends is more valuable than any present that I could recieve.
The most wonderful presents were given to me by my cousin Georgia, who is a continual blessing of God to me. She sent money to help me pay for a trip to Iowa the following holiday weekend where I visited with my friends Emily and Daniel and their children. (more to follow in another belated posting) After I returned from that trip, she sent me something that I'd been praying about getting only the day before it arrived: a beautiful leather-bound ESV Bible.
Growing up, I imagined that being 29 would be quite different than my life is now, but while it is different from what I wanted, it is also "exceedingly abundantly" better. I would not have chosen the life I have now, only because even with my over-active imagination I could not have understood the varied and creative ways that God has used to pour out all these blessings on me.

29 is great!

2006-06-29T10:07:00.000-06:00

Because I just got 5 out of 5 right on the History Channel's weekly quiz! A first for me! Whoo-Hoo!
P.S. Happy 10th anniversary, Pleasant and Joey!

For our dad

2006-06-19T10:08:00.000-06:00

For Father's Day, my stepdad's church collected writings from the children of each dad and put them up on a powerpoint display during church. My dad's four girls wrote about him, but only one letter was displayed. Here are my thoughts and the thoughts of my sister Leah about this wonderful man who we love so much.
"When I think of my dad, Tom Cheatham, my thoughts are immediately directed to God. That's because he is a continual example to me of how God can change each one of us to be more like Christ as we obey His Word. Dad is someone that I can see changing each year. He makes the Word of God and the things of God high priorities in his life and decision-making. He is always ready to listen to me and to encourage me to do what is right. I do not doubt his love for me because he demonstrates his love to me more and more each year that I am privileged to be a part of his family. I love him very much and wish him a wonderful Father's Day."

day off

2006-06-12T10:09:00.000-06:00

Anderson Japanese Gardens is a highlight of Rockford. On this, my fourth or fifth visit, Mel, Barb, and I enjoyed perfect weather and a relaxing afternoon.

for Kurt and Grace

2006-06-09T10:16:00.000-06:00

On Love
Thomas a Kempis (1379-1471)

Love is a mighty power, a great and complete good.
Love alone lightens every burden, and makes rough places smooth.
It bears every hardship as though it were nothing, and renders all bitterness sweet and acceptable.
Nothing is sweeter than love,
Nothing stronger,
Nothing higher,
Nothing wider,
Nothing more pleasant,
Nothing fuller or better in heaven or earth; for love is born of God.
Love flies, runs and leaps for joy.
It is free and unrestrained.
Love knows no limits, but ardently transcends all bounds.
Love feels no burden, takes no account of toil,attempts things beyond its strength.
Love sees nothing as impossible,for it feels able to achieve all things.It is strange and effective,while those who lack love faint and fail.
Love is not fickle and sentimental,nor is it intent on vanities.
Like a living flame and a burning torch, it surges upward and surely surmounts every obstacle.

as time goes by

2006-06-08T10:19:00.000-06:00

This afternoon, the apartment is quiet. I'm the only one home from work yet in the building, so I can't even hear the neighbors, or their music, or their baby. The sunlight is filling the living room, which is fairly clean, and I can see my still lovely bouquets from Grace and Kurt's wedding on the table in the dining room. The vent nearby is pouring out marvelously cool air that carries only a faint odor of kitty litter box from the apartment below. I took a shower after my rather sweaty day at work and am now enjoying leftover Diet Pepsi. The time is perfect for pondering.

After the busyness of this last few months, you'd think I'd be overwhelmed with news and news and news to blog, but I'm stuck in pondering. Maybe it's the Sam Beaver in me to journal my pondering, but what I'm concentrating on is this: Although it's very nice in life to know who you are and what exactly you want, it's more important to know what you want more or even most.
Desires compel prioritization whether it is instinctive or whether it is completely deliberate. If every want was wanted with exactly the same intensity and priority, life would be chaos. No one would ever be able to make a logical choice. To some extent, most human beings are just internal knots of wants. At the exact same moment in time, I can want to drink this Pepsi, I can want to type, I can want to get married, I can want to clean the fish tank, I can want to scrunch my toes into the carpet, I can want to do nothing at all.... If I wanted them all the same amount in the same way, I'd explode with indecision. Instinctively, I've prioritized. "One sip of Pepsi. Type. Pray about getting married. Postpone the fish tank (again). Continuous scrunching of toes into the carpet. Nothing at all is a stupid thing to want..."
It is the deliberate prioritization of desires that has caused my pondering this afternoon, for it is not merely what I want that shapes my thinking and action and life, but rather it is how I prioritize what I want. It is what I want more or the most that makes me who I am.
For example,
I wanted to get to work quickly this morning because I was late. But, I wanted MORE not to get a ticket since I don't have any money, so I decided not to speed.
I want to lose weight, but I wanted MORE that chocolate dipped cone at Dairy Fair last night after church, so I ate it.
I want a kitten, specifically the one Ryan has downstairs. I want MORE not to aggravate my allergies. No, I want the kitten MORE than I care about the allergies. But I want MOST not to complicate my relationship with my fantastic roommate Mel who doesn't want a kitten. Therefore, I don't really want a kitten.
I want to get married. I want to share fellowship, and finances, and a family, and a dislike of alliteration, and, yes, "gardening", as Pastor would say. I want MORE to submit to God's plan to my life. I want MOST to enjoy Him and His good gifts. So, in the tension between what I desire and what I desire MOST, I find a balance of joyful contentment.
I want to sin. Often. Continually. In small insidious ways. In blatent immoral ways. I want more to be holy. Consumed by passion for Christ. Remade in His image. So my prayers become less about asking for what I want, MORE about recognizing all of what I want, the evil and the good, and MOST about begging to know and see what HE wants accomplished in my life.
If I can practice deliberate prioritization of wants more often, perhaps what I want MOST will happen more often.
"Now I want some dinner to go with my Diet Pepsi. Do I want eggs and toast or do I want chips and salsa MORE? Or do I want oatmeal the MOST? Hmm..."

Late Breaking News

2006-04-06T10:23:00.000-06:00

I only have ten minutes to say what I want to say. Perhaps that's a good thing. Perhaps I'll be forced to spit out some clarity from this swirling mess of ideas in my mind.
This week I've been very moved, emotionally and spiritually. God's abundant mercy planned the preaching at our church, ladies' Bible study, life circumstances, and my private devotions to fit together powerfully. One of those life circumstances involved my British literature class.
Once when I was about twelve or thirteen, my dad took us to a spring in Florida to swim. While the river that ran nearby was muddy brown, the water of the spring was clear blue and icy. You could jump off of a bank about twenty feet high into the middle of it. After the sensation of falling through the warm, humid air, hitting that cold water took your breath away. I remember swimming up and up trying to reach the air and the warmth and gasping in great gulps when I reached the surface.
That's how I feel after spending time reading an in-depth survey of the life and works of George Gordon, Lord Byron. Plunged into the horror of out of control sin that was his life, I found myself swimming up as fast as I could, gasping in great gulps of grace. I saw the little rebellions of my life at their final, inevitable result. "This could be me if God let me have my own way." Remorse without repentance. Devastation without compassion. Bitterness without humility. I have more thoughts about this to blog on later, but now I must just express my thankfulness to God for His limitless mercy to me. The goodness of God truly drives me toward repentance.

Thoughts from the Treadmill

2006-03-14T11:24:00.000-06:00

thoughts from the treadmill
It was absurd that I should have been thinking these thoughts.
"I wonder if she thinks I'm walking too slowly. Do I look as stupid as I feel? Should I ask her if she wants to turn the Dean Martin Cd off and try something else? Maybe it doesn't matter since she's on the cell phone. How can someone be riding a bike that fast and still be easily talking on the cell phone?"
Yep. You guessed it. Another, thinner, more professional exerciser had entered the Fitness Center while I was in the middle of my daily (new, but daily) routine. It's amazing the motivation that pride can give. I haven't walked that fast before and don't think I'll ever walk that fast again. And the thought pounded through my aching body as I slowed down immediately after the other woman left the room, "Why do I care what she thinks of me?"
I'm always struggling with being a people-pleaser, but it really disturbed me that I would actually care what some other woman I don't know thought about my exercising abilities.
After a discussion with a friend last night, I was relieved to realize that this is a universal problem, but for me there are more levels of this problem in other areas of my life. I care what those people I do know and care about think of me. I wonder if their perceived ideas of me measure up to what I really mean or who I really am. I fight against worrying about this and only recently see bits of progress in letting go of this prideful fear of man.
I have learned, though, that not only can my fear of what others think of me cause me to sin, but also that I am fully capable of deceiving myself about who I really am anyway. Sometimes it is MY perception of myself that is flawed. So often, I am defensive and upset because "So-and-so has the idea that I am a certain way" only to later find upon reflection that, based upon my words and actions, I AM a certain way, however violently I want to deny it. To face up to the truth about myself as found in God's Word, as revealed by my thoughts and words, as seen in through the eyes of my friends, takes courage beyond my abilities. Only grace can help me to humble myself before the only One whose opinion about me truly matters and confess that I am as He sees me. Only grace can give me wisdom to go to older and wiser Christian friends or family members and ask the hard questions: "What am I really like in this area of my life or in this situation? How do you see me in this area or situation compared to the truth of God's Word?"
I desire learn to measure myself with the most accurate measure, God's Word, to lovingly respond correctly to other's impressions or beliefs about me, to live in the confidence and humility of a person of faith.

you know its a rough week when...

2006-03-08T11:25:00.000-06:00

You follow up a Tuesday night Bible study on self-discipline with a balanced Wednesday lunch of malted milk balls.
Large bruise on leg from the enthusiastic greetings of the giant poodle Sancho Cook.
You get a 1 right out of five on the History Channel's weekly quiz.
An Alzheimer's resident pronounces one of your employees "completely nuts."
Three for three days of the week on surprising resident deaths.

BUT of course there's always the joys of...
Seeing your baby sister's engagement pictures (great, but a little much smooching-- save something for the big day.)
Watching Princess Patience on her birthday.
LADIES BIBLE STUDY.
Two for two past days of the week where I seriously exercised.
Jane's salad (make that Zoey's salad this week) and the company of all the assorted Cooks.
New-To-Me Ginny Owens CD.
News of Leah, Chad, and Super Lake coming to visit this summer!
And so much more.

Frosty winds made moan

2006-02-17T11:27:00.000-06:00

This is an actual series of email communications between myself and Nicor gas company yesterday after I received my online bill.
Enjoy.
>-----Original Message-----From: karynim@hotmail.com [mailto:karynim@hotmail.com]Sent: Thursday, February 16, 2006 8:52 AMTo: Customer CareI am concerned about the accuracy of my current gas bill. This past month hasbeen unseasonably warm-- warmer than the month before-- yet my bill has nearly doubled in one month. Could the usage be rechecked, please? Was I charged for both the upstairs and downstairs apartment when I only have the upstairs? If this is accurate, why did this happen? Should the landlord check for a gas leak? Thank you for your help. I would like to know before time to pay the bill so I can make arrangements. Sincerely, Karyn Heath

From: "Customer Care" To: Date: Thu, 16 Feb 2006 09:00:33 -0600Good morning. We put a very strong odorant in the gas so even very small leaks (like a pilot that has gone out) can be detected immediately.Your 1/17 bill was an estimate, and may have been underestimated. This bill is based on a reading of 1595 taken 2/14. The quickest way to verify if your bill is correct is to read the meter yourself. If your reading is lower than ours, send it to me and I'll rebill the account. Please let me know. Thank you for contacting Nicor Gas.KarenCustomer Care Services

From: karynim@hotmail.comTo: Customer ServiceDate: Friday, February 17th 7:30am
Thank you so much for your quick response to my emailed question. I have previously used electric heat in the winter and so was unfamiliar with the idea that a month could be estimated instead of an exact measurement. Now I do understand how this month's usage could have doubled if last month was a guess, and the remainder from last month had to be figured into this month's bill. Thank you also for sending out the bills a reasonable time in advance of the payment date so that people have time to sell their family heirlooms on ebay to pay for their heat. :-) Actually, that is a joke. I'm thankful that my bill is not as large as some other people's. The payment will be made on time. Thank you again.Karyn Heath

sweets

2006-02-12T11:28:00.000-06:00

Contrary to popular opinion regarding me, I do appreciate Valentine's Day. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes on love.
"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same." ~Emily Brontë

"The heart has its reasons that reason knows nothing of." ~Blaise Pascal

"The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves." ~Victor Hugo

"If I will learn to love the dreams..."

2006-02-04T11:29:00.000-06:00

"that He has dreamed for me."

For the second night in a row, I woke up thinking about him in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep for a long while but when I did, my sleep was very sweet. I woke up still thinking of him with a smile on my face and reached for his letter to me right away. How wonderful to be back in close communication again!

Maybe I should retype that...
For the second night in a row, I woke up thinking about Him in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep for a long while but when I did, my sleep was very sweet. I woke up still thinking of Him with a smile on my face and reached for my Bible right away. How wonderful to be back in close communication again!

No matter how far I am prone to wander, I am more and more convinced that I belong to Christ. The reasoning is simple: I cannot live without Him. He is so necessary, so worthy of my praise and obedience, so satisfying, so gracious, so forgiving. Even though saints through the ages have offered praise more eloquent and more sanctified than mine, I am forced to join them with all I have. How could He call me to be His own? How could He continue to draw my wicked heart to hunger after Him? How could He bless me so abundantly day after day? Tomorrow is Sunday, since I work in the afternoon, the busiest day for me. Yet, I cannot wait to sing praises together with my church family, I cannot wait to hear His Word preached, I cannot wait for another opportunity to learn how I need to submit my life to Him. "O for a thousand tongues..." O for a thousand blogs?

Finding Strength

2006-01-20T11:34:00.000-06:00

"If I could hear Christ praying for me in the next room, I would not fear a million enemies. Yet distance makes no difference. He is praying for me." ~Robert M. McCheyne

Dear ________,

2006-01-11T11:36:00.000-06:00

I wanted to post something, anything on my blog in the very limited time that I have today to use the computer here at work. So, in the interest of saving time and shouting out January greetings to all those who read this empty little blog, I've decided to simply send to all a New Year letter that I sent to an old friend with whom I haven't been in communication for some time. He won't mind, since he isn't a blog reader and won't know. It really is a universal type message and worked well with a tad of editing. Just about anyone I know can fill in his or her name. Is this multi-tasking or cheating? :-) I'll try to give more specific news and postings as soon as possible.

January is a good month for new beginnings and evaluation of the past. This month, I've been unpacking and rummaging through old journals, sorting and throwing out old letters, and emptying email folders. Those are always tasks filled with surprise and remembrance. I'm surprised by things I've said or been through, I'm surprised by how much time has passed, and I'm surprised by how much I've changed, sometimes so drastically. I remember past friends and discussions and "life-traumas". Definitely a time to laugh at one's self. January is just a good month to be thankful for all God has done and is doing for me and in me, for others and in others.

I can't have changed that much because I'm obviously as long-winded as ever.
Anyway, I thought January might be a good month to say things like "hi", "how's life for you?", "hope God is blessing you", and other catch-up type things people say after long periods of time. I have to say that life is good for me- surprising and different, but good-, and that God is blessing me abundantly with His continued faithfulness.

We're busy here with exciting preparations for Grace and Kurt's wedding. In a truly fun Providential life twist, I'm the maid of honor. :-) [As far as my own life situation, you 'member once when you told me that I'd never get married, well, I asked God about it last year quite specifically, and now I'm pretty sure that you're right. For the first time, I'm really enjoying that fact. I'm not going to miss out on God's blessings for me, just because I was hoping for something else.] Anyway, Grace and I are wedding dress shopping like crazy and planning and exercising and beautifying.

Well, my break is nearly over, and I really must finish another letter, too, before rushing on into "Baking Time with Karyn", the 10:30 activity that residents are lining up for miles to enjoy. Ha! I'll have to drag them out by their walkers. Karyn

her name is allie...

2005-12-20T11:38:00.000-06:00

but I just call her "little cat."
I wish I could upload the picture of her on my new digital camera (thanks, Leah and Chad) so that you all could appreciate her cuteness.
I'm not really a cat fan: I've always lived in a house with dogs. She just looked so cold there in the snow on our porch. She shivered and meowed, and I couldn't leave her out there all night. To be honest, I thought she belonged to the guy who lives in the downstairs apartment. Sure enough, after I'd taken care of her for a couple of days, he came up and claimed her. Well, he said she belonged to him but that he didn't want her. Twelve hour days at work and a bigger bossier cat were his reasons. Did I want her? I looked over at her, hiding under the table from him, and I just couldn't give her back.
But now I'm searching for a home for the little cat. She's really a good girl. She goes potty in the litter box only. She doesn't chew things up or break things. She's soft and cuddly and friendly. She learns quickly not to climb up on the counters or table-- at least when I'm around. :-) But I'm outvoted by the allergies, the anti-little-cat friends, and a roommate that's never lived with an animal in the house and is bizarrely freaked out by the fact that Allie doesn't just sit still and look cute like a stuffed toy.
So today I put up a sign at work, and surprisingly, I cried twice today thinking about it. It will be even more traumatic when I have to give her up, but better a good home where she will be loved than the animal shelter or the snow bank where my neighbor will send her.
I know all the cliches about old maids and cats, but there is something to be said for having a physical being of some kind around that loves me unconditionally. To come home to something that wants to show me affection is very addicting. To know that being with me makes one little cat totally and completely happy is, well, somehow amazingly cheering.
ok. now I've cried three times today about this.

Axiom

2005-12-06T11:39:00.000-06:00

Never blog when you're ticked off.
Now I break the rule by doing just that on my break at work.
I'm ticked off about women. Some women just don't know when to stay out of stuff. They think that every opinion that they have on any issue is worth sharing. They jump into every situation bursting with "holy" ferocity and "righteous" indignation. Maybe the reason I get so ticked off about these women is that I have a natural inclination to be one. Fortunately, God has surrounded me with wise people who help me check my instinctive urges to argue and has given me common sense to listen to them. He may at some time give me a husband who will help me protect my reputation and conscience by keeping me accountable for my words. But some of these women ARE married.
So now I'm ticked off about the wimpy husbands of some of these big mouthed women. :-)
Axiom 2: If you must blog when ticked off do it on your own blog.