Gratitude

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of travels as I made my way to the East Coast for some time with the family and then back to the Midwest with a flurry of December activity. Some favorite snapshots from the past couple weeks:

 

• Kayaking on a river in Maine with my dad in the stillness of November. The riverbanks were lined with tall pines and the empty branches from other trees allowed the setting sun to give us light as dusk chased us back to shore.
• Washing dishes with ladies from my parents' church and enjoying the camaraderie of new acquaintances serving together.
• Taking turns reading aloud with my mom in the car as my parents and I traveled to Vermont in the middle of snowstorm. Every once in a while I would glance out the window at the familiar landscape outlined in white.
• Singing worship songs with my extended family on Thanksgiving and delighting in the combination of mountain dulcimer and mandolin.
• Playing games at my Grandma's house: I proceeded to conquer the world, kill some bunnies to obtain a magic carrot, trade beans, fulfill pizza order cards, set my people in fields & cities, among other things...
• Walking down twisting mountain roads and either venturing into a snowball fight or exploring further than I'd gone before.
• Holding deep discussions with one sister before falling asleep or with the other and her husband on the long drive from Vermont to Chicago.
• Returning to my roommates and a cozy living room decorated for Christmas.
• Spending time with people from church and realizing how blessed I am with this community.

Suffice to say that as Thanksgiving has blended into the Christmas season, I am again impressed with gratitude for my family, for the beautiful landscapes around me, my roommates, my church community, and of course, for the God who created it all. 

Photo by my sister

 

Surprised

This morning I woke up to find the sky white and little flakes of snow randomly drifting by the window. I wouldn't actually define it as snowing outside but it has potential. Now, I am one of those odd folks who finds gloomy weather comforting. I love rain and I love snow. (Sometimes I wonder at the fact that I am going to a place where the weather is primarily sunny and snow is an extreme rarity.) However, I suppose the comfort comes from the fact that I have warm blankets in my house and I can put on the kettle for tea. Barring thunderstorms and wet sticky snow (perfect for snow sculptures!), my natural instinct on these days is to burrow on a couch or armchair by the window and become happily cozy. I also get a bit sleepy. 

So as I curled up in the big armchair by the window this morning, it wasn't a complete surprise that I was having a little trouble aligning my thoughts while praying. After a while I gave in and allowed myself to just listen to whatever God had in store for me today. Not long after, I started to get the distinct impression that God was saying, "I have a surprise for you." I am a curious person by nature so that was a great hook for my interest. I turned on my computer and though my thoughts were definitely turning towards my support, I checked my email first thinking, "Perhaps someone sent me a message and that will be my surprise." Well, people did send me messages, and they were all very nice, but they weren't the surprise. I then checked my organization to see if any gifts had come in, and lo, and behold, one had. It was from a person that I had sent a letter to over a month ago and whom I love dearly, but didn't really expect to support me.

 

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; 

his mercies never come to an end; 

they are new every morning; 

great is your faithfulness.

"The LORD is my portion," says my soul,

"therefore I will hope in him."

The LORD is good to those who wait for him, 

to the soul who seeks him.

It is good that one should wait quietly

for the salvation of the LORD.

 - Lamentations 3:22-26  

 

Preparations

I think everyone prepares for an upcoming move in different ways. I have already felt my routine start to shift though I am still three months away. Some of these changes began way back in August, but I suppose I haven't had the chance to reflect on them until now in the lull of October.

Perhaps the most obvious shift was from working full time hours in an office to just part-time. One would imagine that all of a sudden I would gain a significant amount of time and to a certain extent that has been true, but it is amazing how quickly I can fill that time. Raising support takes a good chunk of that time and in actuality could be considered another part-time job. God has been really good in that area though, and I've consistently felt that it isn't something I'm striving for but something I'm to be blessed with. Tied in with that is an increased intentionality of connecting with people. I have been known to get a little panicked on this one in the past, especially as I try to make each moment perfect, which of course it can never be with me over-analyzing everything. So far, I haven't reached a panic point, (and I hope to generally avoid it if possible since I tend to get cranky which isn't so nice for my roommates). However, it has become a bit of a juggling act as I try to travel and see far away friends & family but still attempt to savor my life here as long as possible.


Then there are the less obvious shifts. I start eying my possessions by their size and how much they weigh. My attire has even changed a little as I acquire clothing that would be more appropriate for Middle Eastern modesty. For the most part, these shifts have been intellectual and strategic. Yet, I think my emotions are no longer completely fooled. Each day is an experience of bittersweet contentedness.

Fall Favorites

I have a feeling this blog will be a whole lot more interesting when I am actually overseas and living in the Middle East. Then I can write about all of the odd stories and cultural adjustments as they happen. In the meantime, my topics will just be a little random. So, since this will be my last autumn for a couple years I thought I'd write a bit about what I love during this season. In fact I think I can probably summarize in just two words:


1. Apples  
Technically, they are available all year long -- even in the Middle East, I think. However, as soon as autumn hits what was once simply an enjoyable fruit becomes a bit more like an obsession. Instead of buying a few at the grocery store, I feel compelled to buy a whole bag and I transform into an apple-baking fiend: apple crisp, apple butter, applesauce, apple fritters, and if I get truly ambitious, apple cider donuts. Oh, did I forget to mention cider? I don't have a cider press but stores are very handy in these situations. And of course, I enjoy a fun trip to an apple orchard or farm, which brings me to my second fall infatuation...


2. Pumpkins (and to a lesser extent their gourd cousins of the squash variety)

I have been blessed to have roommates who know how to cook with pumpkins (pumpkin + chocolate chips = tastiness). Alas my experience is mostly limited to carving them, toasting their seeds, and then after they have sat on our porch for a while, taking photos of them and creating a twisted story about them. Perhaps more will be posted on that later...

The creations of my roommate and I: Mine is the cyclops pumpkin. I call him Bert.

I enjoy other parts of fall of course. The weather is lovely for biking & raking, the leaves brilliant (I collected some the other day and pressed them between the pages of my oboe methods book), hot chocolate has become my friend again, and I get to dress up as a red-haired fictional character for Halloween. I'm sure I will miss this season when I live in a desert, but in the meantime, I will proceed to enjoy it this year as much as possible.

Cultural Blunders

I originally thought to write these stories in a personal email to my dear friend who just moved to Japan. However, after a little consideration, I realized that I may as well just write it into a post of my own. Sometimes when you mess up it's nice to hear that you're not the only one blundering.

Blunder #1: Just because you find the right word in the language dictionary doesn't mean that you will be understood. I first discovered this on a college band tour to Japan. I was staying by myself with a lovely family in Utsunomiya for a couple days equipped with my Japanese-English dictionary but really little else. My Japanese host mother didn't speak English very well so we made quite the pair flipping through our respective dictionaries to communicate. On my first night, she asked me whether I would rather sleep on a futon mattress or an air mattress. In my typical indecisive fashion I tried to respond that "whichever" or "both" were fine, hoping that she would choose the option most convenient for her. This didn't translate well, judging from her increasingly puzzled expression. Finally I found the word for "both" in my dictionary and showed it to her. This seemed to clarify the question for her so the conversation ended with both of us satisfied. It wasn't until later that I discovered her very literal translation of my answer: She stacked the air mattress on top of the futon mattress and that was how I slept for my entire home-stay.

Blunder #2: Sometimes you can be refusing a gift without realizing it and thereby offend your host. This happened with the same host family I mentioned before. They generously gave me some money to buy gifts for my family (which was an amazingly thoughtful gift as I had previously wondered how I was going to afford gifts at all.) Then on the second night the whole family and I went to a mall. We strolled through a series of traditional craft booths and while I greatly admired their work, they were still a little too expensive for family gifts. When we reached the second to last booth, my host father turned to me, clearly offended, and asked if the crafts displayed weren't good enough for me. It was then that I realized, to my horror, that we had actually been shopping for a gift for me. By walking past all the other booths I had unintentionally been refusing their gift offering. Well, I apologized repeatedly and at the last booth he purchased three glass wind chimes: one for me and the others for his daughters. 

Though I have traveled quite a bit since those first experiences in Japan, I haven't lost my knack for cultural blunders (i.e. telling my coworkers in Scotland that my friend and I shared all of our clothes, even our pants; or remarking to an Irish woman that I had people tell me I looked British to which she firmly insisted that I didn't look British, I looked Irish...) I'm fairly certain I will continue to stumble culturally and that's okay. Humility and grace are necessary parts of life.

Reconnecting

One of the sweetest comforts after saying goodbyes is shortly thereafter reuniting with someone else. In the past two days I've had three little bubbles of happiness from reconnecting with people. Yesterday I made a couple of cards to send ahead of me to the Near East for a couple of my friends there, both with the promise of meeting again soon. Ironically, the drawings on the cards were based off of memories with my roommate who will be moving to Texas next week. 

Then this morning while randomly scrolling through my organization's list of contacts I came across a familiar name. Two years ago I attended a two week long conference in Germany before beginning my internship in the Near East. I was one of many Americans and she was the only representative from Finland.  We bonded over card games like Mamma Mia and Bohnanza, staying up late with the Swedish and Dutch girls. After the conference we both went to our separate destinations and didn't hear much from each other until I spied her name this morning. Needless to say, I excitedly sent off an email as soon as I spotted her name, only to find in her response this afternoon that she had been thinking of me this week. It made both our days.


This evening ended with a long conversation with a previous roommate who recently got married. It is good to know in the face of goodbyes that the best relationships will rekindle when reunited. It doesn't always stay the same as before and yet, my return to Minnesota has proved that sometimes it actually become stronger the second time around. These are the bubbles of joy that help buoy me these days.

Being Useful

I really enjoy being useful. I think most people do. This is one reason why I have earned the reputation in my house as the vacuum fixer. Now before you give me too much credit, the only problem our vacuums have had so far are snapped belts which is a pretty easy fix. (Thank goodness for that too because when you have five women living in one house the amount of hair that winds itself around the vacuum brush is ridiculous.) However, there is no denying that I get a definite feeling of satisfaction as I unfasten the bottom of the vacuum (all the while humming "Broken Hearted Hoover Fixer Sucker Guy" from Once), decipher the issue, and come up with a ready solution. I like the fact that the way my brain works can be of use to those around me.

I think that is one reason why I love teaching oboe lessons. This week was the start of fall lessons for two of my students and it was actually bittersweet for me, which came as a bit of a surprise. Not so much surprise that I felt a little sad -- it will be my last semester teaching them so that part makes sense -- but more that this out of anything in my life right now would bring that emotion out of me. I think it comes from the thought that I will be replaced, which is a bit of a pathetic commentary on my pride, and the feeling is especially keen because I have invested so much personally into my students. As their teacher I have adapted to each different personality and level so that I can be of most use and help to them while they learn. I will certainly miss them as people (one bright & talkative, another blunt & sarcastic, and still another a sweet & intuitive) but I think the sting comes that in a few months I will no longer be of practical significance to them.

Incidentally, my initial journey to the Middle East two years ago was due to an online posting from a missions organization asking for people with a background in ethnomusicology. It of course caught my attention because, believe it or not, there really aren't that many postings from organizations looking for my particular set of specialized & obscure skills and training. Despite that tantalizing hook, my first feeling was actually one of "Really, God?" since in all the previous months of praying and searching for an internship I had quite deliberately steered clear of missions organizations (for reasons it would take too long to explain in this post). Yet obediently I went and one of my greatest joys during those three months was that of finding my skills useful in a foreign setting. Needless to say, last winter when I saw that the same organization was looking for ethnomusicologists again, there was much less hesitation before I began my pursuit.

...well, this post rambled a little longer than I originally intended...

Georgy

Well, there is only so much I can talk about transition and change when it doesn't factor largely in my life right now. Instead, I decided I would post a little bit about the other areas of my life.


This is Georgy. (Yes, I named my bike.)

Georgy and I met one afternoon in Illinois at a police auction three years ago. He wasn't the best of the bikes there, but we cast our bid and a mere $30 bucks later he became mine. We've had quite the history now (snow, thunderstorms, a car accident...) but what I think I enjoy the most about Georgy is how he helps me to enjoy the little things. Riding a bike to and from work slows me down to a pace where I can observe my surroundings. 

For instance, just the other day I cycled past a sporty car with glittery red paint. Perhaps I should clarify: the car glittered because there were actual sparkles embedded in the paint. It made me smile because the sparkles reminded me of a My Little Pony, or perhaps a car for Barbie & Ken or something. There was also the extremely large turtle that just sat by the side of the road (not to be confused with the medium-sized turtle that was smashed on the side of the road for weeks.) And finally, I cannot neglect to mention the old man on the sidewalk that suddenly swerved in front of me yelling "Yee-HAW!"


These are the little things I would miss without my friend Georgy. I'm actually not one to bike for fun much, but for that short span of minutes between my house and my office, it's nice to take a break from the quandaries of life and enjoy the quirks. (And she awkwardly works in the blog title...)

My hypothetical lawn chair

Nothing makes me forget that I'm leaving easier than having others move before me. The following situation has occurred several times now: I will be standing with one of my roommates as she chats with someone else (let's call them Friend 1) about her upcoming move. Friend 1 then cracks a joke about either forcing her to stay or teasingly pretends to guilt her into staying. I innocently laugh along and join in the fun. Friend 1 doesn't realize my blunder. But then my other roommate, the one whom I will be leaving, gives me a look and reminds me that yes, I am also one of Them--one of the ones moving away.


However, when I am counting months and my roommates are counting days, my perspective gets a little skewed. I feel like pulling out a hypothetical lawn chair and just basking in the time. This is not entirely an accurate representation of my reality, but without a sense of urgency the few lasts that happen slip by rather like a slow stream than a torrent of immediacy. To be honest, other than the logistical side of support raising and preparation, it seems odd to focus on my upcoming departure. There is still a lot I can do where I'm at now.

The Beginning of Transition

It's a bit of a laugh really, the idea of me writing a blog. I was only able to journal consistently for three months of my life. The majority of my journals sit on a shelf, the first few pages filled with the well-intentioned marks of middle school, high school, and college. I'm not usually one to convert my personal reflections into something visible. I would much rather have a conversation, but as that will soon not be as possible, this will have to do. It's part of my adaptation.

I am at the beginning of transition... again. It's been over two years since the last time I moved which is the longest I've lived in one place since I was in high school. Whether that will make this transition more difficult or not, I have yet to determine. At the beginning, change doesn't always feel real. My mind acknowledges that I will be returning to the Near East in only a few months, but it fades to the background in the face of the present circumstances. Occasionally I get glimpses of the change to come, moments when I am either stunned or excited. Mostly though, the transition proceeds without my recognition.

I am reminded of one afternoon when, walking down the streets of a city in Jordan two years ago, I was hit with how normal I felt. My setting was vastly different than any I had experienced before, but that didn't seem to make any difference. I've come to the realization that as long as I focus on my one Constant, the transition loses its oddity: Past, present, and future can overlap in my mind without sending me into emotional upheaval. Funny how that works.