Bedtime prayers take a very l-o-n-g time at our house because, in addition to thanking God for our many blessings and asking Him to bring healing, hope, courage, strength, joy, peace, etc. to those who need it, Jack is full of questions. No matter what or who we're praying for, there's always something else he wants to know.
Sometimes he asks more about the people we're praying for. Sometimes he asks why things are the way they are in the world. Sometimes he asks about God or what it's like in heaven. Tonight, in addition to a host of other things, he asked about prayer itself.
Jack: Does Jesus ever say, "No"?
Me: Mm-hmm, sometimes He does.
Jack: Does He ever say, "Shhh"?
Me: No, honey. He never does.
I always learned more as a teacher than I did as a student, and now as a parent I'm learning more than I did as a child. Somewhere between Jack's questions and my responses, I'm able to see, as if for the first time, the enormity of the answers. Tonight I realized two things:
1) As his parent, I need to find ways to enable Jack to feel heard more.
2) Unlike human parents, God is never in a hurry to get us into bed so He can have a break before another day begins tomorrow. He's always available to us, welcoming our prayers and our communication with Him. He's always actively, intently listening.
* * * * * * *
I love the Lord, because he listens to my prayers for help. He paid attention to me, so I will call to him for help as long as I live. (Psalm 116:1-2 NCV)
Friday, September 12, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Where Are The Kiddos?
This morning in church our pastor asked the children if they had all gone back to school this past week. Then he asked if anyone was going to start school this week. Little Sophie raised her hand! Clever girl. She'll be going to our church pre-school on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, and she couldn't be happier.
I haven't posted photos in a while. For those of you going through Adorable Angel Baby Withdrawal, here are some pictures, compliments of my wonderful father-in-law. In the first one Jack is holding one of my Mom's cats, and in the second one he's holding a month-old bunny at Grandpa Tiny's Farm in Frankenmuth, MI. This boy loves animals.
Of course, you can't go to Frankenmuth and not pose for one of these:
I'll try to post more pictures of both kids, especially from our super-fun holiday, soon.
I haven't posted photos in a while. For those of you going through Adorable Angel Baby Withdrawal, here are some pictures, compliments of my wonderful father-in-law. In the first one Jack is holding one of my Mom's cats, and in the second one he's holding a month-old bunny at Grandpa Tiny's Farm in Frankenmuth, MI. This boy loves animals.
Of course, you can't go to Frankenmuth and not pose for one of these:
I'll try to post more pictures of both kids, especially from our super-fun holiday, soon.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Obsessive-Compulsiveness Goeth Before A Fall
The calendar says that we had a summer, but the weather begs to differ. Delighted as I was to visit my family in Michigan in August, the thought of possibly missing out on two weeks' warmth and sunshine here (because England is gorgeous when it's warm and sunny -- amazingly, breathtakingly gorgeous) did cross my mind. Well, luckily for me and unluckily for the other 60 million residents of the UK, it rained the entire time we were gone. And it's still raining.
Everywhere I go -- to Jack's school, the library, the supermarket, the charity shops -- everyone is complaining about the rain. The reason the British talk about the weather so often, the saying goes, is that there's so very much of it. And today the weather is coming down, down, down.
Autumn is here, or very nearly here. I smelled it in the air a couple days ago, when we woke up to sunshine and the rain stayed away until evening. Hooray! My all-time favorite season! I'm ready to get out in the garden and start the fall process of tidying up the beds, but so far all we've been able to do is talk about getting the patio furniture in the garage, out of the rain. In spite of the dreary 10-day forecast, I hope we have some dry days soon. I just bought some lovely tulip bulbs that I'd love to get in the ground. But for now I'm sitting inside, watching the rain. Enjoying some time alone while Sophie naps. Eating leftover pasta and drinking another diet Coke.
I know, I know! I claimed to be so over it in my last post. You probably saw that coming, didn't you, and yeah, I should have, too. I should have known that I'd be haunted by those four cans of diet Coke in the fridge. That I couldn't just let them sit there until someone, sometime came for dinner or a chat and said, "Forget the tea. What I could really go for is a diet Coke!" That I'd be pushed over the edge of reason by that nagging temptation of Just One More. That then, when only three remained, I'd rationalize how much better it would be to go ahead and finish them all so there wouldn't be any more left to tempt me. That infinitely stronger than the desire for another taste of diet Coke is my craving for neatness. Order. Closure. Control.
I'm glad it's September, not just because the leaves will turn colors soon but also because fall is such a good begin-again time. Summer holidays are over, the kids are back to school and we're getting back into a routine. It's a fresh start in so many ways: I'm setting the alarm so I can have an hour or so to myself in the mornings, which makes an enormous difference in the rest of my days. I'm going through our closets, taking inventory of what doesn't fit and what has hung unworn in the past year or so, gathering clothes for the charity shops. I'm getting back to the gym regularly, building it into my normal schedule.
I love times like this -- taking stock, being intentional, feeling motivated. Reminding myself what's real and what isn't. Choosing to relax (or even just consciously choosing to want to relax) into the moment, rather than just trying to get through it. Choosing to let go of some things I've tried too hard to hold onto. Times like this help soothe that inner part of me that cries out to be productive in order to feel purposeful. Times like this help me regroup and remember what's worthwhile and what... isn't.
After reconnecting with my family and with various long-lost friends who passed through London over the summer, my soul feels full enough and my mind is at peace enough to settle back into our little family's business-as-usual.
Fall is on our doorstep. Which means that winter is next, the season that challenges me mentally, emotionally and spiritually like nothing else. In spite of that, and in spite of the absence of a proper summer season, I look out at the rain today and feel optimistic. It's only weather. I can't control it, but there are plenty of other things I can control -- like being more honest, lowering my expectations of myself and not taking myself or my moods too seriously. That and, by God's grace, dealing with one day at a time.
I won't get it perfect, but that's okay. I don't need to. I do need to keep my eyes on Him. I need to trust Him. And I need to rest in the confidence that He is, ultimately, in control.
* * * * * * *
Look to the LORD and His strength; seek His face always. (Psalm 105:4 NIV)
Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. (2 Timothy 2:1)
"My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in your weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Everywhere I go -- to Jack's school, the library, the supermarket, the charity shops -- everyone is complaining about the rain. The reason the British talk about the weather so often, the saying goes, is that there's so very much of it. And today the weather is coming down, down, down.
Autumn is here, or very nearly here. I smelled it in the air a couple days ago, when we woke up to sunshine and the rain stayed away until evening. Hooray! My all-time favorite season! I'm ready to get out in the garden and start the fall process of tidying up the beds, but so far all we've been able to do is talk about getting the patio furniture in the garage, out of the rain. In spite of the dreary 10-day forecast, I hope we have some dry days soon. I just bought some lovely tulip bulbs that I'd love to get in the ground. But for now I'm sitting inside, watching the rain. Enjoying some time alone while Sophie naps. Eating leftover pasta and drinking another diet Coke.
I know, I know! I claimed to be so over it in my last post. You probably saw that coming, didn't you, and yeah, I should have, too. I should have known that I'd be haunted by those four cans of diet Coke in the fridge. That I couldn't just let them sit there until someone, sometime came for dinner or a chat and said, "Forget the tea. What I could really go for is a diet Coke!" That I'd be pushed over the edge of reason by that nagging temptation of Just One More. That then, when only three remained, I'd rationalize how much better it would be to go ahead and finish them all so there wouldn't be any more left to tempt me. That infinitely stronger than the desire for another taste of diet Coke is my craving for neatness. Order. Closure. Control.
I'm glad it's September, not just because the leaves will turn colors soon but also because fall is such a good begin-again time. Summer holidays are over, the kids are back to school and we're getting back into a routine. It's a fresh start in so many ways: I'm setting the alarm so I can have an hour or so to myself in the mornings, which makes an enormous difference in the rest of my days. I'm going through our closets, taking inventory of what doesn't fit and what has hung unworn in the past year or so, gathering clothes for the charity shops. I'm getting back to the gym regularly, building it into my normal schedule.
I love times like this -- taking stock, being intentional, feeling motivated. Reminding myself what's real and what isn't. Choosing to relax (or even just consciously choosing to want to relax) into the moment, rather than just trying to get through it. Choosing to let go of some things I've tried too hard to hold onto. Times like this help soothe that inner part of me that cries out to be productive in order to feel purposeful. Times like this help me regroup and remember what's worthwhile and what... isn't.
After reconnecting with my family and with various long-lost friends who passed through London over the summer, my soul feels full enough and my mind is at peace enough to settle back into our little family's business-as-usual.
Fall is on our doorstep. Which means that winter is next, the season that challenges me mentally, emotionally and spiritually like nothing else. In spite of that, and in spite of the absence of a proper summer season, I look out at the rain today and feel optimistic. It's only weather. I can't control it, but there are plenty of other things I can control -- like being more honest, lowering my expectations of myself and not taking myself or my moods too seriously. That and, by God's grace, dealing with one day at a time.
I won't get it perfect, but that's okay. I don't need to. I do need to keep my eyes on Him. I need to trust Him. And I need to rest in the confidence that He is, ultimately, in control.
* * * * * * *
Look to the LORD and His strength; seek His face always. (Psalm 105:4 NIV)
Be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus. (2 Timothy 2:1)
"My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in your weakness." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
An Old Habit and a New Accomplishment
For the first time in over twelve years, over the weekend I drank a diet Coke. It tasted exactly the same as it did when I used to drink it daily in my teens and 20s, and although there are four more cans in our fridge left over from my sister-in-law's (wonderful!) visit at the beginning of August, I can't say that I care to have another one anytime soon. Nice, huh, to kick a habit and not even miss it?
For the second time ever in my life, last night I successfully hemmed a pair of trousers by hand. My mom has always been an expert in sewing hems, but I could never do it without the stitches showing through. Motherhood brings things out in us that we never knew were possible, doesn't it? Here I am, for the second September in a row, hemming trousers for Jack's school uniform. He starts Year 1 (American = first grade) today! Which means I need to get off the computer and into the kitchen so I can pack his lunch...
For the second time ever in my life, last night I successfully hemmed a pair of trousers by hand. My mom has always been an expert in sewing hems, but I could never do it without the stitches showing through. Motherhood brings things out in us that we never knew were possible, doesn't it? Here I am, for the second September in a row, hemming trousers for Jack's school uniform. He starts Year 1 (American = first grade) today! Which means I need to get off the computer and into the kitchen so I can pack his lunch...
Saturday, August 30, 2008
No Place Like Home
It's 2:30 a.m. in London, and I'm sitting here in the dark. Wide awake.
Less than 48 hours ago the kids and I got back from two weeks with my parents in Michigan. It was the perfect holiday! Lots of space for Jack and Sophie to run, play, explore, chase the cats, jump on the neighbor's trampoline, etc. Lots of one-on-one time with family -- in addition to being with Gran and Pa, my sister joined us for several days at the beginning, Matt came for a few days in the middle and Matt's parents came for several days at the end of our time. Lots of togetherness, in the best sense of the word. I intended to see a few friends and make a few phone calls, but the days got away from me. In the end it was just us, and it was lovely.
Michigan is a great place to visit in the summertime, and my parents' house is wonderful anytime. So relaxing. Just what I needed! The whole time we were there, it felt so good to be home with my Mom and Dad. Retirement and grandparenting really become them! The day before we left, Jack said he wanted to stay and live with them forever. He wasn't the only one.
Jack and Sophie travel really well, except for that part between when the airplane takes off and when it lands again. On long flights, when the kids need to sleep but can't relax because they're too distracted by all the new sights/sounds/smells around them, I am the woman that everyone wishes would make her child stop screaming. I am the woman perfect strangers approach and say, "Is there anything I can do to help?" I am the woman who dreams of the day she can travel alone, reading a book, looking out the window and drifting in and out of sleep while someone else's kid does the screaming.
I am the woman whose husband surprised her with an appointment for a Thai massage the afternoon we got back. It was amazing! Exactly what I needed, along with the clean house and stocked fridge I came home to. I am the woman who thinks her husband is the best.
I also came home to ripe, crisp Cox apples on the tree and fat, red Autumn Bliss raspberries on the canes in our little back garden, to a fresh appreciation for all that I love about our little home and community and a sense of contentment that we live here, that our kids are at these delightful (and challenging) ages, that we are blessed in so many ways on two continents.
Honestly, mine is a charmed life. Well, except for the jet-lag.
Less than 48 hours ago the kids and I got back from two weeks with my parents in Michigan. It was the perfect holiday! Lots of space for Jack and Sophie to run, play, explore, chase the cats, jump on the neighbor's trampoline, etc. Lots of one-on-one time with family -- in addition to being with Gran and Pa, my sister joined us for several days at the beginning, Matt came for a few days in the middle and Matt's parents came for several days at the end of our time. Lots of togetherness, in the best sense of the word. I intended to see a few friends and make a few phone calls, but the days got away from me. In the end it was just us, and it was lovely.
Michigan is a great place to visit in the summertime, and my parents' house is wonderful anytime. So relaxing. Just what I needed! The whole time we were there, it felt so good to be home with my Mom and Dad. Retirement and grandparenting really become them! The day before we left, Jack said he wanted to stay and live with them forever. He wasn't the only one.
Jack and Sophie travel really well, except for that part between when the airplane takes off and when it lands again. On long flights, when the kids need to sleep but can't relax because they're too distracted by all the new sights/sounds/smells around them, I am the woman that everyone wishes would make her child stop screaming. I am the woman perfect strangers approach and say, "Is there anything I can do to help?" I am the woman who dreams of the day she can travel alone, reading a book, looking out the window and drifting in and out of sleep while someone else's kid does the screaming.
I am the woman whose husband surprised her with an appointment for a Thai massage the afternoon we got back. It was amazing! Exactly what I needed, along with the clean house and stocked fridge I came home to. I am the woman who thinks her husband is the best.
I also came home to ripe, crisp Cox apples on the tree and fat, red Autumn Bliss raspberries on the canes in our little back garden, to a fresh appreciation for all that I love about our little home and community and a sense of contentment that we live here, that our kids are at these delightful (and challenging) ages, that we are blessed in so many ways on two continents.
Honestly, mine is a charmed life. Well, except for the jet-lag.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Eyes On Beijing
Jack and I are watching the Olympics. We managed to see the last part of the Opening Ceremony yesterday afternoon, and he was totally into it.
Mommy, Mommy, look! There's the Olympic flag. I love the Olympic flag! Here comes the Olympic torch. I love the Olympic torch! Oooooh, fireworks! I love the Olympic games, don't you, Mommy? Don't you just LOVE the Olympic games?
In spite of not posting in the last few weeks, I can tell I'm not going to get much written today. It's hard to focus with Jack's running commentary beside me. This is his first Olympics, and he's naturally excited, asking questions in one breath and explaining things to me in the next.
The swimmer in lane 3 won! Look! She's very strong. Number 1 jumped in after the bigger numbers. One person jumped two times. Zero is not a number, is it? Wow, that was a quick race. The American won, so we won. Because we're American, right?
The Olympics that stand out in my childhood memory was Montreal 1976. I was captivated by a young gymnast just seven years older than I was at the time, Romania's Nadia Comaneci.
This year the events Jack especially wants to see are diving and gymnastics. We're watching some of the men's gymnastic qualifications now.
Whoa. Wow. Wowee! Omigosh. OmiGOSH. Mommy, did you see THAT? That was SO cool.
We're very impressed, sitting here on this cold, wet afternoon. It's going to be an exciting two weeks, both on the telly and on our couch.
Mommy, Mommy, look! There's the Olympic flag. I love the Olympic flag! Here comes the Olympic torch. I love the Olympic torch! Oooooh, fireworks! I love the Olympic games, don't you, Mommy? Don't you just LOVE the Olympic games?
In spite of not posting in the last few weeks, I can tell I'm not going to get much written today. It's hard to focus with Jack's running commentary beside me. This is his first Olympics, and he's naturally excited, asking questions in one breath and explaining things to me in the next.
The swimmer in lane 3 won! Look! She's very strong. Number 1 jumped in after the bigger numbers. One person jumped two times. Zero is not a number, is it? Wow, that was a quick race. The American won, so we won. Because we're American, right?
The Olympics that stand out in my childhood memory was Montreal 1976. I was captivated by a young gymnast just seven years older than I was at the time, Romania's Nadia Comaneci.
This year the events Jack especially wants to see are diving and gymnastics. We're watching some of the men's gymnastic qualifications now.
Whoa. Wow. Wowee! Omigosh. OmiGOSH. Mommy, did you see THAT? That was SO cool.
We're very impressed, sitting here on this cold, wet afternoon. It's going to be an exciting two weeks, both on the telly and on our couch.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
How to Melt the Heart of An Englishwoman
Bring her homemade chocolate chip cookies, evidently.
Jack and I arrived at school a few minutes early today and headed straight for the office. Yesterday he delivered hand-drawn pictures and plates of cookies to his teachers. Today he brought the same to the head teacher, receptionist, school nurse and custodian.
It wasn't what the receptionist was expecting, bless her. She teared up immediately and looked back and forth between Jack and me, waving her hands in front of her face in that classic, "I'm going to cry, I don't want to cry, oh alright, I'm crying" kind of way. She glanced down at the Thank You note I'd taped on top: For all you do, all year long... Enjoy your hard-earned holidays!
Maybe the only day more emotional than the first day of school is the last one. Right now, though, my favorite is the day after that. Matt arrives home tonight! So tomorrow we're going to enjoy the luxury of being together and not going anywhere at all.
Jack and I arrived at school a few minutes early today and headed straight for the office. Yesterday he delivered hand-drawn pictures and plates of cookies to his teachers. Today he brought the same to the head teacher, receptionist, school nurse and custodian.
It wasn't what the receptionist was expecting, bless her. She teared up immediately and looked back and forth between Jack and me, waving her hands in front of her face in that classic, "I'm going to cry, I don't want to cry, oh alright, I'm crying" kind of way. She glanced down at the Thank You note I'd taped on top: For all you do, all year long... Enjoy your hard-earned holidays!
Maybe the only day more emotional than the first day of school is the last one. Right now, though, my favorite is the day after that. Matt arrives home tonight! So tomorrow we're going to enjoy the luxury of being together and not going anywhere at all.
Monday, July 21, 2008
English As A Spoken Language
We had a breakthrough in Sophie's communication today!
The patio door was open on this gloriously sunny day. Sophie was coloring at the table, and I was sitting across from her, enjoying my mid-morning cup of tea and admiring her handiwork. Outside a gentle breeze was blowing. From one of the neighborhood treetops, a little bird chirped out her greeting to a friend.
Sophie looked up and announced, "I hear bird." And then, just to make sure I understood, she elaborated: "Tweet-tweet."
The patio door was open on this gloriously sunny day. Sophie was coloring at the table, and I was sitting across from her, enjoying my mid-morning cup of tea and admiring her handiwork. Outside a gentle breeze was blowing. From one of the neighborhood treetops, a little bird chirped out her greeting to a friend.
Sophie looked up and announced, "I hear bird." And then, just to make sure I understood, she elaborated: "Tweet-tweet."
Friday, July 18, 2008
Snapshot
We've lived here for two years now -- two years this month. The summer of 2006 was incredibly hot, and as we walked up to the high street and back, getting to know the area, we discovered a sweet surprise: blackberries! They grow wild along unexpected paths, and the place we first found them is just before the bus stop on our main road. When they're in season, we stop and pick a few -- one or two for each of us. It sounds funny, I guess, but it enhances my sense of belonging to this community that we intentionally leave the remaining ripe berries for other passersby.
All fall, all winter and all spring as we walk along that road the children will often point to that particular spot and say, "This is where the blackberries grow in the summertime!" In the past several weeks we've been watching the white flowers and subsequent green berries emerge, and today, finally, some of the berries were ready, black and sweet.
Walking home in the drizzling rain, having spent a couple hours at a friends' house after school, I took a mental snapshot of the moment: Jack looking like a miniature Morton's fisherman in his raincoat, walking beside me with one hand on the handle of Sophie's stroller; Sophie taking off her shoes, taking out her hair bands, singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star within her protective plastic shield; me carrying Jack's Thomas the Tank Engine umbrella, having forgotten my own, and all of us tasting the first blackberries of the year.
I like that the anniversary of our arrival in England can be marked by something as sweet as blackberry season. I like that we encounter wild blackberries as we walk along the road. I like that walking is something we do a lot of. I like our little community. And today I didn't mind the rain. Welcome to year three...
All fall, all winter and all spring as we walk along that road the children will often point to that particular spot and say, "This is where the blackberries grow in the summertime!" In the past several weeks we've been watching the white flowers and subsequent green berries emerge, and today, finally, some of the berries were ready, black and sweet.
Walking home in the drizzling rain, having spent a couple hours at a friends' house after school, I took a mental snapshot of the moment: Jack looking like a miniature Morton's fisherman in his raincoat, walking beside me with one hand on the handle of Sophie's stroller; Sophie taking off her shoes, taking out her hair bands, singing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star within her protective plastic shield; me carrying Jack's Thomas the Tank Engine umbrella, having forgotten my own, and all of us tasting the first blackberries of the year.
I like that the anniversary of our arrival in England can be marked by something as sweet as blackberry season. I like that we encounter wild blackberries as we walk along the road. I like that walking is something we do a lot of. I like our little community. And today I didn't mind the rain. Welcome to year three...
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Big Hair, Big Deal?
Anyone who knows me knows my hair: BIG. Always has been, as long as I can remember. It took me years to figure out how to work with it instead of against it. Some super-intensely moisturizing hair care products helped, and I used them faithfully. Expensively. I bought the big bottles, salon size, taped over the caps and took them by multiples in action packers to Kenya. Whenever I would run dangerously low, very kind people -- usually family or close friends who understand the plight of having big hair, or maybe they just indulge me? -- would bring them over to me in their luggage when they were visiting. Six years in Kenya and not one day did I have to do without the stuff. Amazing, really.
I took bottles and bottles of these products to Cyprus, too, but the water there was different... As in, real different. Hard, with lots of limescale. And all of a sudden my products didn't work their magic in the same way. My hair had a wiry, much coarser texture than usual, and it took me a while to work out the kinks, metaphorically speaking (because the literal kinks and curls were still there, of course).
And then we moved to England. And my wonderful, adoring, supportive husband said no to filling up our luggage with giant bottles of hair stuff. "We live in London, England," he said. "If they don't have it here, you don't need it." He had a point, in spite of not having much hair of his own, and I knew he was right.
Plus, it turns out the water here is even harder and more limescale-y than it was in Cyprus! And my hair has been even worse in terms of frizz factor. My old faithful wasn't working. At. All. So I started experimenting with different lines of hair stuff and finally found one! That works! Wonders! Truly! And is available at my grocery store!
Or, it WAS... until a few weeks ago. Suddenly the entire line went on sale and now it's no longer being stocked. I'm stunned and, to be honest, a little scared. I've checked a few other places around but haven't been able to find it yet. It's a British brand, but my particular products-of-choice don't seem to be in demand among the rest of the women in this area. Boo!
It's not actually a big deal. I mean, there's a million other, much more important things going on in the world, but if you were here and we were drinking tea together, you can bet we'd talk hair. For a few minutes at least.
I took bottles and bottles of these products to Cyprus, too, but the water there was different... As in, real different. Hard, with lots of limescale. And all of a sudden my products didn't work their magic in the same way. My hair had a wiry, much coarser texture than usual, and it took me a while to work out the kinks, metaphorically speaking (because the literal kinks and curls were still there, of course).
And then we moved to England. And my wonderful, adoring, supportive husband said no to filling up our luggage with giant bottles of hair stuff. "We live in London, England," he said. "If they don't have it here, you don't need it." He had a point, in spite of not having much hair of his own, and I knew he was right.
Plus, it turns out the water here is even harder and more limescale-y than it was in Cyprus! And my hair has been even worse in terms of frizz factor. My old faithful wasn't working. At. All. So I started experimenting with different lines of hair stuff and finally found one! That works! Wonders! Truly! And is available at my grocery store!
Or, it WAS... until a few weeks ago. Suddenly the entire line went on sale and now it's no longer being stocked. I'm stunned and, to be honest, a little scared. I've checked a few other places around but haven't been able to find it yet. It's a British brand, but my particular products-of-choice don't seem to be in demand among the rest of the women in this area. Boo!
It's not actually a big deal. I mean, there's a million other, much more important things going on in the world, but if you were here and we were drinking tea together, you can bet we'd talk hair. For a few minutes at least.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Summertime in England
Last Saturday we had a break from the rain, and it was just long enough for us to join the throngs of people at a nearby village Fun Fair. Bouncy castles, cotton candy, face painting... The kids were beside themselves!
In spite of my on-again/off-again/on-again/off-again cardigan that day and the fact that we've had to turn the heat back on several times since turning it off sometime in May, not to mention that school is in session for a few more weeks yet, it's starting to feel a bit like summertime.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Sugar Is Sweet, and So Is Sophie
You know how, when you join a new group of some kind, the leader will often start off with a question for everyone to answer in their own way -- an ice-breaker, they call it -- to help people warm up toward one another and get them comfortable interacting together. Sometimes the questions are easy enough to answer:
What's your idea of a perfect holiday/vacation?
What's one goal you’d like to accomplish during your lifetime?
If someone made a movie of your life would it be a drama, a comedy, a romantic-comedy, an action film or science fiction?
But the one that always throws me is this one:
If you were an animal (or fruit or car or ice cream flavor), which one would you be and why?
It's a good question, but I'm always in a panic about what to say. I'd do better if I could think about my answer for a while, and usually in those ice-breaker sessions you're expected to come up with something right away. Oh, the pressure! In front of people! To come up with an answer! That doesn't make me sound as geeky as I really am!
In junior high Spanish class, the first thing we all learned was how to ask someone what their name is. ¿Cómo se llama usted? The literal English translation is, "How do you call yourself?" Mind you, Sophie is still working toward using English. My consolation is that Jack didn't really talk until he was nearly three, but when he did it was in complete sentences -- and he's been talking nearly non-stop ever since. So I'm not particularly worried. Plus, I happen to know that Sophie uses rather complex grammatical construction -- she has full-length conversations with herself -- it's just not in a language I can understand.
In Sophie-speak, banana is "dub-dub," baby is "bah-poh," sorry/excuse me is "haw-wee" and Signing Time is "Ih-Ih". (Nope, I don't get that one, either.) Mommy is "Mama," Daddy is "Dada," Jack is "Tack" and Sophie is (drumroll please...) "Sheh-gah".
It must be nice to be so un-self-conscious! But why deny the truth, you know?
What's your idea of a perfect holiday/vacation?
What's one goal you’d like to accomplish during your lifetime?
If someone made a movie of your life would it be a drama, a comedy, a romantic-comedy, an action film or science fiction?
But the one that always throws me is this one:
If you were an animal (or fruit or car or ice cream flavor), which one would you be and why?
It's a good question, but I'm always in a panic about what to say. I'd do better if I could think about my answer for a while, and usually in those ice-breaker sessions you're expected to come up with something right away. Oh, the pressure! In front of people! To come up with an answer! That doesn't make me sound as geeky as I really am!
In junior high Spanish class, the first thing we all learned was how to ask someone what their name is. ¿Cómo se llama usted? The literal English translation is, "How do you call yourself?" Mind you, Sophie is still working toward using English. My consolation is that Jack didn't really talk until he was nearly three, but when he did it was in complete sentences -- and he's been talking nearly non-stop ever since. So I'm not particularly worried. Plus, I happen to know that Sophie uses rather complex grammatical construction -- she has full-length conversations with herself -- it's just not in a language I can understand.
In Sophie-speak, banana is "dub-dub," baby is "bah-poh," sorry/excuse me is "haw-wee" and Signing Time is "Ih-Ih". (Nope, I don't get that one, either.) Mommy is "Mama," Daddy is "Dada," Jack is "Tack" and Sophie is (drumroll please...) "Sheh-gah".
It must be nice to be so un-self-conscious! But why deny the truth, you know?
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Collecting My Thoughts and Trying To Hold Onto Them
I'm making a list.
I wake up each morning intending to do all kinds of things that, somehow, I never do. Little organizational things like putting pictures into frames, going through our closets for donations to the charity shops and updating Sophie's baby book. Big meaningful things like finishing those parenting books, updating our blessings journal and making phone calls I've been meaning to make.
Lists motivate me and help keep me focused. I'm much more productive when I'm working from a list than when I'm just winging it. Some days winging it can be relaxing and therapeutic, but some days I end up feeling like I've wasted a perfectly good chance to get something done.
What I really need to keep a list of, though, in addition to tasks, is ideas for posts on this blog. During the day I'm struck with great ideas -- funny things that happen, little observations on life, conversations with my kids -- but by the time I sit down to the computer, it's all gone. My memory is hopeless. I'm going to have to start doing those special keep-your-brain-active quiz things that they advertise for the elderly. Or else, I'm going to have to carry a pen and paper with me wherever I go.
Because today, for example, several excellent ideas came to mind...
Ummm, what was I saying?
I wake up each morning intending to do all kinds of things that, somehow, I never do. Little organizational things like putting pictures into frames, going through our closets for donations to the charity shops and updating Sophie's baby book. Big meaningful things like finishing those parenting books, updating our blessings journal and making phone calls I've been meaning to make.
Lists motivate me and help keep me focused. I'm much more productive when I'm working from a list than when I'm just winging it. Some days winging it can be relaxing and therapeutic, but some days I end up feeling like I've wasted a perfectly good chance to get something done.
What I really need to keep a list of, though, in addition to tasks, is ideas for posts on this blog. During the day I'm struck with great ideas -- funny things that happen, little observations on life, conversations with my kids -- but by the time I sit down to the computer, it's all gone. My memory is hopeless. I'm going to have to start doing those special keep-your-brain-active quiz things that they advertise for the elderly. Or else, I'm going to have to carry a pen and paper with me wherever I go.
Because today, for example, several excellent ideas came to mind...
Ummm, what was I saying?
Monday, June 23, 2008
Pardon?
I took Jack to the clinic this morning. The doctor confirmed our suspicions: a mild ear infection. It's called here, of all things, glue ear: thick, sticky fluid behind the eardrum. Normally the eardrum should be gray and shiny. Jack's is pink and dull. His symptoms are typical: moodiness, slightly raised temperature, loss of appetite and hearing. I knew something was wrong when Jack started turning up the volume on the television and was constantly asking, "What did you say?" The good news: with antibiotics it should clear up in 7-10 days. And also: it's treatable, temporary and not too terribly painful. I'm really thankful for our family's normally excellent health. Counting your blessings, practicing the attitude of gratitude, looking for the silver lining: whatever you call it, it's a habit worth repeating.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Two Years Well Spent
I just filled out a survey for alumni of Africa Inland Mission's TIMO (Training In Ministry Outreach) program. Although TIMO usually establishes two-year teams among people groups in rural villages in Africa, in 1994-1996 our team lived among the South Asians of Nairobi. Twelve years ago may seem like a vague and distant memory to a lot of people my age (!), but my time with TIMO was one of the most defining periods of my life. Answering the survey questions this morning was like commenting on something real and vital and presently active right now. In fact, I was just saying this week to a former student passing through London on a long layover (It was soooo lovely to reconnect with you, Danielle! You’re a beautiful young woman, inside and out, and I’m so very proud of you!) how much my experiences with TIMO prepared me to do just what I’m doing now, right where we are. The invesment of those two years continues to pay huge dividends in my life (and, I pray, in the lives of those around me).
Then I was single and enjoyed the freedom of disappearing into my neighbors’ lives for days at a time: I began waxing, wore shalwar kameez and painted my nails in matching colors, drank pots of masala tea, ate with my hands, watched scores of Hindi films while listening to endless amounts of extended-family gossip, shopped on Ngara Road, attended henna parties and elaborate wedding rituals and, by God’s grace, had several chances to share Truth. No longer single and no longer living in Africa, I’m tied to our home and family routines. I wear jeans, go sleeveless and shop at Sainsbury’s, but the lessons of putting people ahead of time/tasks and investing in cross-cultural friendships have served me well. Extremely, beautifully, immeasurably well.
I tried to answer the open-ended questions of the survey in broad terms because I knew if I started describing individual women (and their particular situations) who’ve been part of my life since TIMO, I’d end up going on and on. That’s something better talked about in person over a pot of tea in the garden or, say, in heaven when we’ve got all the time in the world. Even the generalities, though, are specific in their beneficial impact on my life and work:
Sometimes I’m the one who’s surprised, as I was by a call on my mobile phone during a mums’ Bible study recently. The number on display began with 254, the country code for Kenya. “Excuse me,” I said to the other mums. “I really need to take this call.” And suddenly, there was the familiar voice of my Muslim neighbor from South C, calling to say they’d had another grandbaby and when are we coming to see them in Nairobi?
Often I even have a little déjà vu moment, like earlier this week when Sophie stood perfectly still on one of our dining room chairs as a Muslim friend combed and braided her hair. (She never stands still for me!) I was brushing and braiding the long, thick, dark hair of my friend’s two young daughters, and the scene reminded me of the untold hours I spent “doing hair” with the daughters and female cousins of that very same neighbor family. (As Sophie gets older I’m having fun rediscovering girly things and sharing them with her!)
(Many of my friends here have boys because they’re the mums of Jack’s friends at school, but God brought M into my life when we first moved here and renewed our relationship this spring when her elder daughter began taking piano lessons from a woman just down the street from us. Now every Tuesday afternoon M and her daughters walk home from school with us. The children play sweetly together, T goes to her lesson and in the meantime M and I drink tea and chat. She has a lot of pain in her life, and our weekly visits are ideal opportunities for me to share Scripture and speak Truth to her deeply felt needs.)
All this reflection on my TIMO experience and its relevance to the wider call on my life makes me even more grateful to God for the ways He has led me and for the grace-full gift of faith and willingness to follow Him on His terms. It makes me want to encourage young, single believers everywhere to pursue cross-cultural opportunities like TIMO now, while life is relatively uncomplicated and unconfined, just God-and-me. It makes me appreciate the continuity of life, even of seemingly different phases, and the importance of teaching my children the song as well as the concept: Trust and Obey.
It also makes me wonder where Jack and Sophie will end up living when they grow up, in which cultural contexts they will plant their lives and among what people groups they will find the joy of living out their faith for Jesus’ sake?
Then I was single and enjoyed the freedom of disappearing into my neighbors’ lives for days at a time: I began waxing, wore shalwar kameez and painted my nails in matching colors, drank pots of masala tea, ate with my hands, watched scores of Hindi films while listening to endless amounts of extended-family gossip, shopped on Ngara Road, attended henna parties and elaborate wedding rituals and, by God’s grace, had several chances to share Truth. No longer single and no longer living in Africa, I’m tied to our home and family routines. I wear jeans, go sleeveless and shop at Sainsbury’s, but the lessons of putting people ahead of time/tasks and investing in cross-cultural friendships have served me well. Extremely, beautifully, immeasurably well.
I tried to answer the open-ended questions of the survey in broad terms because I knew if I started describing individual women (and their particular situations) who’ve been part of my life since TIMO, I’d end up going on and on. That’s something better talked about in person over a pot of tea in the garden or, say, in heaven when we’ve got all the time in the world. Even the generalities, though, are specific in their beneficial impact on my life and work:
As an orientation for further cross-cultural work, TIMO was:I have a soft, warm spot in my heart for AIM, for TIMO and for all the people -- colleagues, teammates, RVA students and their parents, African/Asian neighbors and friends, other expats -- who were part of that season of my life. They would probably be surprised to know how very often they are part of my thoughts and prayers during the day and my dreams at night, even after all this time.
Perfect! TIMO gave me skills and insight that I rely on constantly, most notably the ability to plant myself deeply in the host culture, building and finding joy in heart-level relationships among women within the local community. This has proved to be my lifeline as a (now) wife and mother of two small children because my husband’s ministry requires frequent travel out of the country and there are no other workers with our company living nearby. My life/ministry here is rich and full with friendships across several cultures, and I feel the benefit and influence of my years with TIMO on a daily basis. TIMO also planted in me a deep love and appreciation for South Asian people, food and culture. In both Cyprus and now England, God has brought women from Hindu, Muslim and Sikh backgrounds into my life, extending my opportunities to interact with our team’s wider people group even though I no longer live in Nairobi.
Overall, my TIMO experience was:
Outstanding! Life-changing! A tremendous gift! I’m amazed to look back and see all the ways God used TIMO to prepare my heart and mind specifically for situations I’ve encountered in the twelve (!) years since our team served together. I’m confident that the coming years will reveal even more miracles of His plan to bless and multiply the TIMO investment, and I’m only one among many!
Sometimes I’m the one who’s surprised, as I was by a call on my mobile phone during a mums’ Bible study recently. The number on display began with 254, the country code for Kenya. “Excuse me,” I said to the other mums. “I really need to take this call.” And suddenly, there was the familiar voice of my Muslim neighbor from South C, calling to say they’d had another grandbaby and when are we coming to see them in Nairobi?
Often I even have a little déjà vu moment, like earlier this week when Sophie stood perfectly still on one of our dining room chairs as a Muslim friend combed and braided her hair. (She never stands still for me!) I was brushing and braiding the long, thick, dark hair of my friend’s two young daughters, and the scene reminded me of the untold hours I spent “doing hair” with the daughters and female cousins of that very same neighbor family. (As Sophie gets older I’m having fun rediscovering girly things and sharing them with her!)
(Many of my friends here have boys because they’re the mums of Jack’s friends at school, but God brought M into my life when we first moved here and renewed our relationship this spring when her elder daughter began taking piano lessons from a woman just down the street from us. Now every Tuesday afternoon M and her daughters walk home from school with us. The children play sweetly together, T goes to her lesson and in the meantime M and I drink tea and chat. She has a lot of pain in her life, and our weekly visits are ideal opportunities for me to share Scripture and speak Truth to her deeply felt needs.)
All this reflection on my TIMO experience and its relevance to the wider call on my life makes me even more grateful to God for the ways He has led me and for the grace-full gift of faith and willingness to follow Him on His terms. It makes me want to encourage young, single believers everywhere to pursue cross-cultural opportunities like TIMO now, while life is relatively uncomplicated and unconfined, just God-and-me. It makes me appreciate the continuity of life, even of seemingly different phases, and the importance of teaching my children the song as well as the concept: Trust and Obey.
It also makes me wonder where Jack and Sophie will end up living when they grow up, in which cultural contexts they will plant their lives and among what people groups they will find the joy of living out their faith for Jesus’ sake?
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