The Best Days of My Life

These are the best days of your life, they say. 

And I wholeheartedly agree.

Except for those single years.  When I was free to run up and down mountains, have quiet moments, laugh with roommates late into the night, play my guitar and travel the world -- sharing the love of God with anyone I met.  Singing and playing piano on continents I learned of in Social Studies.  I knew God was going to use me for good, confident in the depths of His love.  The confirmation that somehow, my life would be forever involved in full-time ministry, was solidified. I went wherever my heart desired.  I knew nothing of fear.

My young self, in India.

Those were some good days.

Or the good days of finding the love of my life.  Staying up late, watching movies, building our repertoire of inside jokes, sharing our hearts, eating Mac 'N Cheese, saying 'I do' after 3 months of dating, while surrounded with amazing kids who were the best youth group kids we had yet to meet.  Hours and hours and days and days of worship  and teaching in youth ministry together.  Our calling to work in ministry together was a blessing.

Married!

Those were good days.  Really good.

Then, I think about putting all our earthly possessions in storage and entering the mission field around our two year wedding anniversary.  Oh, the things we learned, the countries we experienced and the lives that were impacted.  Ours changed the most.  Stretched in our inmost beings, we put "our" lives on hold.  Instead of biological children like all of our friends back home, we had orphans.  Instead of possessions, we lived in community, sharing all.  Instead of starting a savings account and building up a nest egg, we prayed for donations of simple things, like, tooth paste.  Our prayers ALWAYS answered.  Our lives forever ruined for the ordinary.  We will NEVER be the same again, thank God.

In Afghanistan, trying to make some wool.  Fail.

Difficult, soul-testing, heart-aching days, but really, really, really good days.

But these days?  I live in America, something I didn't want to do nor did I think I could ever do, without sinking into a materialistic, complacent, depressive lifestyle, because I had never met an American that didn't fall into one of those categories, if not all.  I've got my three best friends by my side.  I'm surrounded by a runny nose, cracker crumbs under my feet, fingerprints on everything sacred, newborn poop stains on all clothing, and crying that is volleyed between my two littles.  In some ways, I have settled, which is frustrating to me, but I know I need to enjoy this time.  I take turns with my faithful man, juggling what life is now.  Chubby wrists, pursed lips (that beg for kisses), two little minds begging for knowledge, 'neck hugs' and smiles just because I'm Mama.

Naptime with my sweet littles.

These really are the best days of my life. 

And I can hardly wait to see, in the years to come, how the best gets even better.

Life is Fragile and Everyday is a Gift

While at times I have understood the phrase "life is fragile and everyday is a gift", lately I haven't been looking at things in that perspective.  I've felt like more of a burden, and I'm tired and haven't been feeling well.  I've felt overwhelmed with all that needs to be done and find myself frustrated.  Poor me, poor me.

On top of that, two dear friends had just announced miscarriages, I was feeling their grief.  Life is fragile.

Sometimes you just need to get away.  After just feeling kind of down and sick of life as we know it, we made a last minute decision to join my family on a little getaway last weekend. 

The first night was just Dallas, India and myself in Cockroach Motel.  Really.  It was.  We planned on just pretty much sleeping there for the night, you know, to limit our bed bug exposure, but I was too sick to do much but lay in bed.  Maybe God's plan was to begin our Sabbath spending hours relaxing in an unknown bed while an 18-month-old used me as her personal gymnastics mat.  We still got to eat at our favorite Thai and Indian restaurants and of course, had to stop at IKEA.  The opportunity to just chill without ministry demands was a blessing. 

India loved that she could press all the TV buttons at Cockroach Motel.  She also loved that she was nekkid.

After that, we joined my parents and my sister and her family in southern Minnesota at a VERY different hotel!  My Dad made sure we all had suites for our families and I swear, some of our family's suites might have been bigger than our house!  Quite the upgrade from VD Motel.  After one day of being away, we were feeling better about life.
 

India and cousin, Xiomara, decided they wanted to play chess.

The kiddie pool here was great, perfect for littles with little fountains and a walk-in.  Best part of all, we were pretty much the only ones in the pools or hot tub! 

India.  Probably bossing someone around.

 
But this getaway wasn't just to get me out of my selfish, little world.  We celebrated Christmas with my Grandma. 

My Grandma, Josephine, India Josephine's namesake and my Dad

This was the first time I've been back to my Grandma's town since my Grandpa's funeral.  It brought back a lot of emotions.  Barely a year earlier, my Grandpa was alive and on the very streets we were on.  He was alive at the house my Grandma now lives in, alone.  I didn't expect to be hit with the reality of how fragile life is.  Sure, my Grandpa was older, but his death was unexpected.  Just one year later, we watch my Grandma come into the hotel alone, without my Grandpa.  Yes, life is fragile and every day is a gift. 

We also went to a benefit fundraiser for my second cousin and her husband.  They were both seriously injured in a motorcycle accident this fall.  Not only are they living miracles, they have both made amazing efforts to walk, move and do daily tasks.  I've never seen SO many people at a benefit.  Just a few months ago, they were working, taking care of their three girls and living life.  One accident has changed the course of their life.  Life is fragile and every day is a gift. 

This weekend was good for some time away.  Some time that was much needed to focus on our families and step back and realize how grateful we are for everything in our lives.  It was a time to see beyond ourselves, to love more, to pray for others, and realize life is fragile and every day is a gift.

As an old high school friend's 3-year-old boy was just diagnosed with stage 4cancer yesterday, this week's lessons that have been taught to me are fresh in my mind.  Enjoy time loving and caring for others.  Take time for refreshing. 

And be grateful for every day, because life is fragile and every day is a gift.

You're going where? Afghanistan?!?! Part 2

Part 1 

In Afghan culture, when you marry a man, you marry into his family.  You move in with his family, and become the lowest of all the women, meaning you get the most work.  If your mother-in-law, sister-in-laws, or your husband's other wives are kind, it can work out as you all share the burden of the housework. 

If your mother-in-law, or any of the above women is not kind or doesn't like you, life can be very miserable.

This was the case for Jaweed's wife. 

Jaweed talked about how bad his wife was, as she had 'killed' his firstborn, a newborn son, a couple months before we arrived.  I asked for clarification, and Jaweed told me that his wife was depressed and could barely function.  After their son was born, she remained quite helpless and according to Jaweed and his mother, she didn't feed their son and he died.  I'm not sure how accurate this story is because women (Grandmothers even) will breastfeed each others children, so if this child wasn't being fed, I would imagine that his grandma or maybe a sister-in-law would have began breastfeeding him.

Jaweed, Dallas and Kabir

I wanted to know more, so I did everything short of inviting myself to Jaweed's house, just to try to meet his wife and share hope with her.  When I finally went to his house, I met family member after family member and kept asking Jaweed if and when I could meet his wife.  His mom kept saying she was 'no good' and shaking her head in disgust. 

I didn't want to press my luck, but I did want to see this girl, who had been a bride, wife, mother and lost a child all before she would even be able to drive in America.  Finally, after much begging, they let his wife (who served all the food) come into the room where we ate.

They talked poorly of her, while she stood there with her head down.  I tried to make eye contact and call her by her name, but before I could reach out to her, she was told to leave the room.  She was talked to worse than I would talk to a stray dog.

And that was all I saw of this young girl.



It broke my heart, but this is a reality in Afghanistan.  A young girl, is betrothed in marriage while she is years from menstruating, she leaves her family, becomes the lowest in her new family, and is expected to bear a child within a short period of time, or else she will be deemed worthless.

I can see why depression would sink in, and why the stories of suicide run high among women. 

I wonder what happened to this girl.  Jaweed was searching very hard for a new wife.  It's not his fault, and he's not a bad guy. Jaweed was a very good friend of Dallas', was very funny, spoke some of the best English we heard in our time there, was highly educated, and had a great job at the United Nations. He was just trying to complete his duties as a man: to produce offspring, particularly sons. 

Stepping into Afghanistan is like living something straight out of Genesis.  Remember that, before you throw any mind-stones at Jaweed.

Jaweed, busy at work

I hope and pray, that this girl is alive and well, and that she has earned favor and love in Jaweed's eyes and that she gets along well with any of Jaweed's other wives.

Many people ask how safe I felt in Afghanistan, and I would say, VERY safe.  We had a strictly enforced 5:00 PM curfew, because it wasn't safe to be out past that time.  We had safety precautions that we followed, but in spite of all that, we felt safe because of the Afghan people. 

The Afghan people are fiercely protective of their friends and family.  There is an Afghan proverb that many friends shared with me during my time there to express their love for me, and I think it sums up the protection we felt.

The first day you meet, you are friends.

The next day you meet, you are brothers.

Afghan proverb

 

On one of the days there, things went haywire in our relatively 'safe' town. 

 

There was a suicide bombing a few blocks from our house, targeting the local warlord, who was praying during a major religious holiday. 

 

Rumors spread quickly, and soon we were getting text messages from Kabul and emails from outside the country claiming that the news was reporting many deaths, which was untrue.  We had been forewarned that 80% of what you hear on the news about Afghanistan isn't true and I can agree with that statement, especially after the suicide bombing.

 

On top of that, the Taliban issued threats of kidnapping any foreigners in the town.  We were the only foreigners in the town, and we lived between two houses, and everyone knew where we were, Taliban included...

 

To be continued...

*suicide bomb and safety

*the average woman's life in Afghanistan

A root canal, a flight and a blizzard

My husband was scheduled to leave for Ghana, Africa today to speak at a youth retreat. He spent a lot of time preparing for it, and was very excited to meet the kids he was going to be spending the next few days with. 

A possible glitch in our plans were two back-to-back storms, slated to hit us and quite possibly leave us debilitated for days, thereby hindering our trip to the airport, or even delaying a flight.

With the impending blizzard that was supposed to begin today, we were feeling pressure to make it to the airport and back home before the blizzard hit.  With the entire state talking about this nasty blizzard, my protective Dad decided he would be our chauffeur in his giant, diesel, four wheel drive pickup truck. 

I ended up scheduling my root canal on my abscessed tooth for the this morning, because my dentist is in a town on the way to the airport. That way Dallas and my Dad could watch India while I had the procedure done, and we could be on our way.  And we would save gas.

After my root canal was finished (which was my most painful to date because they couldn't numb me all the way because of the abscess), we had plenty of time to feed India and get me some breakfast with about 3 hours to spare until Dallas had to be dropped off at the airport. 

We planned perfectly.

We made our way towards the airport and decided to stop for lunch at a different Thai restaurant than the one we normally go to.  It was a horrible mistake!  My Dad ordered Stir Fried Potatoes with Beef and got a couple slices of beef, with a scoop of GRAVY, all on a bed of potato chips.  WHAT THE ???  I could write a blog post just about this because it was so horrendous.  I doubt my Dad will ever have Thai food again thanks to me.

As we left the "restaurant", Dallas decided to check the Delta website and found out his flight to Atlanta was delayed by two hours.  It took us a second to realize that because his flight was delayed, he would then miss his flight from Atlanta to Ghana. 

I've arranged enough international flights to know that this isn't a good situation because direct flights to countries like Ghana are hard to come by - especially over a holiday.

Deep pit in my stomach.

Dallas gets a hold of a Delta representative, who assures us that the next flight to Ghana is in 2 days, and he can have a spot on that flight. Dallas explains that he has to get on that flight from Atlanta tonight because he is speaker at a retreat, and it he needs to be there! She says every flight is booked and she can't help him.

She tells him sorry, but that's his only choice.


All the while, I'm whisper-yelling things like "but it's THEIR issue, they need to fix it" and "they better reimburse every penny of this flight and throw in additional vouchers" and "tell her you need a flight on another airline then - no exceptions".
 
It's a good thing Dallas had his bluetooth on, because I was about to reach up and grab the phone myself and start doing some Angry Wife talking.

Around this time, I updated my Facebook status, asking people to pray for me.  Well, it wasn't really for me, it was for the whole situation, but I couldn't explain that at the moment - and I didn't want our hosts to see anything and panic.  We were already all freaking out enough about the blizzard and the possibility of flight delays.

I also texted a couple of close friends some of the details and asked for their prayers.

My Dad, Dallas and I then talked for a second about stopping and contacting our hosts, but Dallas decides he wants to get to the airport as soon as possible and talk to someone face to face.  My Dad suggests that he call Delta again and try another representative, and Dallas does just that.

This representative does some digging, and comes up with a flight to Cincinnati, then finds a flight from Cincinnati to Atlanta. 

All in time for him to catch his original flight from Atlanta to Ghana!

Excitement!  Then we find out the flight to Cincinnati leaves at 3:10pm, and it's 2:15pm and we are stuck in traffic! 

EEK!

Another pit in my tummy!  

Dallas decides to take the flight anyway, as it's his only hope of getting to Ghana this year (ha ha), while I'm madly arranging Dallas' stuff and my Dad is trying to work his way quickly (in his ginormous truck) through traffic (in not the best weather)! 

While driving, I'm giving my nice, sweet, kind husband a talk about being aggressive. I even brought to his memory instances of times in our previous travels where I have been sweet, but aggressive and saved us from missing flights.  

2:27pm - We get to the airport, unload his luggage, swat him on the butt, and I tell him to HURRY!  And I told him I loved him too.  And maybe I didn't really swat him on the butt.  But now, I wish I would've because that would make this story a lot cooler.

I spend the next 40 minutes praying, sweating and hoping that he gets on that flight.  I know the chances are grim.  I can't bear to look at my phone after 3pm because I know soon I will hear if he made it or not. 

3:03pm - I receive a text.

"I made it....just barely."

At that moment, I was so happy!  Words can't describe it.

Our next hurdle of the day, battling the blizzard, was about to begin, but it was small in comparison to getting Dallas to Ghana! 

 

The drive home was fine until we hit a town a little over an hour away from our house.  The road was now covered in glare ice.  It took us a couple hours to get home, but we made it - SAFELY!  I'm so glad that my Dad was with, driving his big truck, and helping me stay level-headed when I wanted to stress in that dilemma.

A lot of things attempted to deter my husband from getting on that flight, but thankfully, the storm didn't interrupt his travel plans, he was gently aggressive, made all his connecting flights and is at this very moment, on a flight to Ghana!

Thank you to every single one of you who saw my post on Facebook and prayed for us - even when you had no idea what to pray!  I am SO grateful for your prayers!!!  I knew God knew exactly what we needed.  And I knew God knew exactly what these students needed! 

And PRAISE BE TO GOD, for looking out for all of us, for providing in what looked like grim circumstances, and answering the cries of our hearts.

Dallas will be a blessing to these guys.  I can't wait to see what God does in all of their lives.  After all the effort and opposition, I know it's going to be INCREDIBLE!

Renewed

Oh, my poor blog has been abandoned yet again! I'm so sorry Bloggie, and so sorry to my faithful few readers. I'm determined to be more dedicated. Until summer comes back. :)

Why haven't I blogged? Well, my husband, baby & I all boarded a plane for San Diego where we attended the National Youth Workers Convention. Our time at the convention was incredible! Some of the nation's leading youth speakers came and spoke. Great worship bands like Robbie Seay Band and Starfield led in worship and we spent a lot of time listening and processing all the information we tried to receive in about four days. We were challenged, refreshed, renewed, and spoken to. Sometimes, when you are in ministry, the best way to receive is to go away from your town and glean without all the pressures of the job following you. Thank you to all who prayed for us, encouraged us, and made it possible for us to go!

After San Diego, we roadtripped to my husband's aunt and uncle in Palm Springs and spent a couple of days strolling this beautiful town, talking about more ministry ideas we had, spending time with Dallas' aunt and uncle, and relaxing by their pool. After that we made our way to Las Vegas to again see more of Dallas' family. Most of our time in Vegas was spent with them, which was great! Dallas' uncle and aunt used to live in Denver when we lived in Colorado Springs, so quite often we would see eachother. It was so fun to spend time with them again! Also, I didn't know some of Dallas' aunts and uncles that well before the trip, but spending a few days with them was a great way to get to know each other. We also went down to the Strip and saw all the beautiful casinos, lights, and took in as much free entertainment as we could! We also saw the magnificent Hoover Dam!


We've been back for almost 2 weeks, but are still glowing from this time! India was a good little traveler, thank God! She doesn't do well in cars, which we knew because she never has, so that got a little frustrating. If parents are at their wits end with a crying child, many will pop them in the carseat and drive around for a bit until they calm down or fall asleep. NOT my little girl. You put her in the carseat, and she starts "talking back" pretty quick. She hates being alone (yes, two parents who love people had a daughter that loves people) and she hates not being able to see anything. If you would have passed us while we were driving around, quite often, you would have seen me manuveuring my way from the front seat to the back seat in our squishy little economy rental car, all to speak a few words of comfort to my baby girl. But she made up for it with her angelic behavior on both flights and her love, interest and smile for every person we met.

Overall, we came away from our trip realizing that as important as ministry is, we need to make sure we have family time - easier said than done, when your husband is a youth pastor, and when do most things happen with youth? After school. It's when they are wanting to chat on Facebook, when they send messages, when they have football games, when most youth events are. Many speakers spoke on protecting that sacred time, something that we need to work on. God also spoke to us overwhelmingly on love. It sounds so cliche, and sometimes we look down on and judge the "love messages" as elementary, but really, are any of us above being reminded of our loving, forgiving Father? I don't think so. And if we think we are, we have lost the beauty of the cross.