Real Walls

Years ago, my poor bedroom was the victim of violent creativity attack. Hastily-torn magazine pages and well-intentioned birthday cards suffocated its walls. Knick-knacks, trophies, and glittery picture frames soldiered its bookcase. Ranks of clothing and brightly patterned carpet buried its floor. A few truly unfortunate spaces had a sharpie pointed at them, and were made to sing Switchfoot songs. Even the ceiling didn’t escape the massacre, pierced with the deadly glare of glow-in-the-dark stars.

The devastation of this tragic war, wrought by my teenagerism, was documented by a single photograph:

Veggie Tales, the lyrics to "Let That Be Enough," and general slobbishness.

 Ah, my poor, poor bedroom. And I am to blame.

When I didn’t get the South Africa job, I knew it was time to initiate a full recovery. Because of the sharpie and the spray paint (that’s right: spray paint.), part 1 of operation:restoration for my room needed to be a fresh coat of “Mossy Log” and “Swiss Coffee.” So, with my mother as a trusted consult, I have redeemed my bedroom. Its walls are no longer calling out in distress and its wood floor is free to breathe:

Clockwise around the room...

These closet doors are now the bane of my existence.

Floor! Baseboards!

The war is over, Real Walls officially occupy my bedroom, and I must say - sometimes this adulthood thing ain't so bad!

(Watch out, closets!!! You’re next.)

Real Anticipation

Get excited, because my next post will be about this…

and this…

and these…

:)

Real Sleeping Habits

I am ashamed to say that I turned 8 years old when I graduated. I say this because the next daily routine that I’m attacking with vigor is my bedtime.

I realized I had a problem when I woke up yesterday to get to a 10am church service, and it felt like the break of dawn. Granted, my phone never actually made the automatic switch to “fall back” for Daylight Savings Time (which made for a really awkward visit to a new church in the area!), but the fact of the matter is that I struggled to keep my eyes open all day. I nodded off during what was actually a pretty stellar comeback by the Vikings, and then again in the shower this morning, after an attempt to wake up at a reasonable hour.

I am suffering from sleeping-in syndrome. It’s a circle of hibernation: I have nothing to do, therefore I stay up later and sleep in, therefore I have nothing to do, therefore I stay up later and sleep in… My new REM cycle has turned me into a zombie-like, coffee-craving person up until the hour of noon. Just about anything in the AM is painful. Have I turned into a vampire?!?! Hmmm… No, the image that comes to mind is actually Jack Black in Orange County, interrupting daytime guests in his underwear:

Yikes! There’s an image of Adulthood that I’d like to not turn into!

So once again, I say enough is enough! I am mommy-ing myself into shape. Lights out & computer away at midnight, even if everything in me wants to whine “but I’m not tiiiiirrrrreeeeddddd!” Wakey-wakey at 9:30, even if everything in me wants to succumb to my comforter cocoon. Real Sleeping Habits.

Oh good lord. This has never been my strong suit, even in college when I did have a life. Maybe I’ll print out a picture of Jack Black and put it on my wall for inspiration. Maybe with “DON’T BE THIS GUY” in big red sharpie letters across the top and vampire fangs, to remind me to stay away from the nocturnal.

I’ll say this for myself, though: Today I woke up at 9am, albeit groggily and grumpily, and put Real Pants on. 

By the way... Would you rather forget Daylight Savings while visiting a church for the first time in the fall or in the spring? Better to be an hour late or an hour early to church??

Real Pants

Yesterday, I promised that I would wear pants, get a life, and be an adult. Today, I am beginning that mission.

A “Real Adult” would have a concrete plan for becoming one (does that sentence make sense?!?!?!), so I’m adding modifications to my daily routine.

I’m going to start simple: the sweatpants. I need to start getting dressed every day, even if I don’t have any particular reason to. And – wow – when I write it out loud like that, it sounds WAY lamer than I thought it was! Ugh. But in my defense, I am a bum-around-the-houser, which means that a well-spent Saturday is one where I get to be a hot grungy mess. Which is fine every once in awhile, but now that I have an endless array of “Saturdays” before me, enough is enough. I mean, really. If I hadn’t gone to church today, I don’t think that I would know that it’s Sunday.

And I’m realizing that these sweatpants have become a wardrobe siren. Really, they are too comfortable to not be enticingly lazy. They’re over eight years old, and everything about them is perfect, sweatpants-wise. They’re so wonderful that I hate having to change out of them, and they’re so worn-in that I hate to wear them outside. The problem is, this means that I tend to not leave the house. I realize how insane this sounds, but my sweatpants have become a vice. Like the gluttony of loungewear.

So I say, get behind me, sweatpants! Today, and every day hereafter, I am wearing a reasonable pair of jeans/shorts and/or a skirt/dress.

Ok, so today I technically wore leggings. But I wore them to church, and that’s an adult-like activity, so it counts.

More life-changes to come. This is happening, this adulthood.

Project: Adulthood

I need to get a life.

No, I really do. I’m not just saying this because I’m being another emo blogger. I’m saying this because I literally went outside today for the first time since this weekend… To the library and the fabric store… With my mother. And I love my mother, but I need to get a life.

My parents keep commenting on how incredulous it is that I can coop myself up so much. The internet helps, admittedly. I can stay connected with the world from my living room, wearing my sweatpants. I can entertain myself with this blog and this one and this one, feeling vicariously productive from my living room, still wearing my sweatpants. Having all 7 Harry Potter books immediately on-hand helps me coop-up, too. So does having every episode of Star Trek ever. There are distractions galore in this household, partially thanks to my father. Who I love. But I need to get a life.

The reality is, I graduated from college, almost got a job, but didn’t. And I have no idea what to do next. I am faced, currently, with an entirely blank slate to fill with “life.” These are the formative years. The years where I’m going to grow as an individual. The building blocks for a career that I hope to someday have. (Ack! Daunting!) And I am determined to not spend them all in my living room… Let me rephrase that, actually: in my parent’s living room, in my sweatpants.

So, I’m going to get a life. And I’m going to blog about it. Dare I say it, this will require REAL pants! Hopefully even the professional, non-denim kind, as that is generally a mark of having a real, adult life.

You, nameless reader, will be my accountability: I will wear pants! I will get a life! I will be an adult!

The God who sees me

There is a story in the Bible that I had a hard time understanding at first, and I’m going to tell it to you.

Everyone has heard of Abraham and Sarah, who were the original holders of God’s covenant.

You know – more descendants than stars in the sky, etc. etc. But not many people remember Hagar. Hagar was Abraham and Sarah’s maidservant. Her story starts when Sarah misjudges God’s covenant and she has Abraham sleep with Hagar. My guess is that Hagar didn’t have much say in the matter, because she gets pretty furious with Sarah when she finds out that she’s pregnant. Sarah retaliates, and Hagar runs away into the desert.

It’s already something of a soap opera, but it gets especially interesting when God interferes. He sends an angel (in some circles thought to be Christ) to meet Hagar in the desert. This angel tells her to go back, to name her baby Ishmael (i.e. “God heard my misery”) and then prophesies that Ishmael will be a “donkey of a man” and will forever be at odds with his brothers. Then Hagar says, “You are the God who sees me. I have now seen the One who sees me,” and goes back to Abraham and Sarah.

A couple of years later, Isaac is born. He and Ishmael don’t get along, and Sarah wants to kick Hagar out again. God assures Abraham that He’ll take care of Hagar, so he sends her into the desert. Once exiled, Hagar becomes so desperate that she hides Ishmael in a bush and walks away, sobbing. She doesn’t want to see her bastard son die of thirst. She is truly alone. Then God talks to her from heaven, tells her that she shouldn’t be afraid, that he heard her son crying, and that Ishmael will be ok. The story ends with God providing her with a well of water, and being “with the boy as he grew up.”

The first time I read this story, I did not get it. At. All. I mean, couldn’t God have prevented all that conflict??? Why does He create Ishmael, when it’s clearly a point of contention with everybody? Why does He let Sarah drive Hagar out into the desert – not once, but twice? Why does He let such bad things happen to Hagar? And why does He tell Hagar that her son will be ugly and disliked? Ruuude!

If I were Hagar, I would be pretty bitter towards God, wouldn’t you? It seems like she gets majorly slighted. Sarah has a husband, wealth, and the unwavering covenant of God. Isaac’s son is Jacob, who God literally nicknames “Israel.” Ring a bell? Hagar… Well, Hagar has a donkey for a son.

But Hagar worships God. And she names him – the first person in the Bible to so, a servant and a woman, no less. Why?

This story has everything to do with what God does with bad circumstances and with people who are outcast and aimless. The story of “sin and redemption” is pretty common, so it’s not difficult to understand why God blesses Abraham and Sarah regardless of their pride. God forgives them. Done. But Hagar didn’t really do anything wrong. She was dealt a bad hand. What does God do about that?

God doesn’t make Hagar’s situation all that much better, nor does He ever really promise to. He personally sends an angel to basically tell her, “Hey. You have a baby. You both are not very well liked and that’s probably not going to change, but you’ll live. And I’m here, and I’m God, so everything is ok.” He knows that He is better than Hagar and Ishmael’s physical and emotional needs. And He’s right. And Hagar gets it. She understands that meeting God face-to-face and hearing His voice come down from heaven is worth more than the thousands of descendents that He promises. Sarah only interacts with God from the inside of a tent, but Hagar sees and is seen by God. Lucky lady.

I mean, can you say that you’ve seen an angel of God? I think that if my kid died and I looked God’s angel in the face, that I would still worship Him in spite of everything. Which brings me to my point – the presence of God is more significant that the presence of anything else in life.

It’s a gritty reality. Sometimes life deals you a bad hand. Like an off-suit 2 and 7. Like a “this couldn’t possibly be any worse” hand. Or even a “I’m going to have to watch my baby die. Alone.” hand. (I’m not a mother, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t get worse than that.) Hagar shows us what matters most: Christ. She shows us where hope is: Christ. She shows us who will give us directions, if directions need to be given: Christ. She shows us who will provide water when we are most thirsty: Christ.

God can let bad things happen, because he knows how good He is. That’s the key to understanding the gospel: He’s way more good than the bad is bad. It’s the only explanation that doesn’t leave us desperate.

So, I’ll admit: not getting to go to South Africa this year is a pretty bad hand. And unlike Hagar, it wasn’t the result of someone else’s sin. But God’s good. He gives me the water I need, and He sees me.

So I guess I’m a lucky lady, too.

Pray for:

-God’s presence & direction

-Some well water, so to speak

Waiting

One thing that I don’t think I expressed too clearly was that these posts have been about a 20-day trip, which I went on as part of the interview process for Bridges of Hope International, after which a final decision will be made about whether I will go to South Africa full-time.

That clarified, the big update is that I arrived back into SFO about three weeks ago, and have been twiddling my thumbs in Cupertino ever since. I’m searching for an apt in SB with Theresa and holding my breath until I can move forward with or without BOH. I still don’t know when I’ll be back in SB, or even if I'll get to do this job. Basically, I’ve been waiting.

And now, the burning questions: How was the trip? Do I want the job?

The trip was great, especially considering that it was a two-week-long interview. As for the job, the most fitting response I can give is that only God could have brought me to South Africa. Everything about the place, the people, and the position fits.

The staff people I met had their feet on the ground, their confidence in Christ, and an understanding that real change happens slowly. The nature of the job excites the part of me that likes to create projects and see them through (two days in, I was already spouting out ideas and itching to make here-and-there improvements). And then, of course, BOH is an organization that I can honestly endorse. The idea of CHE, of sustainability, of giving a community the tools to develop what matters to them and then watching them thrive… What other cause could I stand behind, knowing Christ?

The only spot I had trouble with was whether this was a “calling.” What is a “calling,” anyway? For awhile, I had the concept misconstrued. I thought I needed to somehow “belong” in South Africa. But while I was in over my head during the camps, where a sea of Kosa people were talking in foreign clicks and constantly bursting into song, I thought to myself: this is their culture, their growth, their hope that’s happening. Going to SA would be about what Christ is doing with the people and the culture systems there. And the fact that my bizarre affinity for camp could play a part in that is humbling. I would be so blessed to know Christ in that way. And that’s part of what a “calling” is, isn’t it? Seeing what Christ is doing, where He’s going, and then following Him.

Well, that, and the nagging feeling that this is a job worth pursuing.

And then, to top everything off, there was this agonizingly beautiful view. It is the kind of puzzle-perfect fit that God likes to stew up, the kind of thing that I would never have thought of, but now that I’ve heard it, I can’t think of anything else I would rather do.

I am anxious for my final interview. I am brewing in excitement about a job that I may very nearly have, but shouldn’t get too excited about just yet. So, I will wait, pray, twiddle my thumbs for a little bit longer, and hope that this is my road less traveled by. 

Pray for:

-My final interview at 8am on Monday morning!!!

History

South Africa is drenched in history. Ruggedness and wildness roll through the earth. Highways twist through bubbling, babbling port towns. Crushed spirits lay low beneath vast sprawls of rambled shacks. It's a land of contrasts – mountains and savannas, townships and suburbs, blacks and whites – as if apartheid shook the earth, and half of it crumbled.

From 1700-1800, the Dutch and English settled in South Africa, fighting with the natives and with one another. As a general trend, the English bullied the Dutch, who bullied the indigenous blacks. By the 1900’s, the English controlled the port locations, the Dutch settled in the northeast, and the blacks were pushed into tribal reservations.

Flash forward a century to 1948. The Afrikaans (originally Dutch) take the political majority, and create apartheid laws to increase their power and status to equal that of the British. They separate the country into white, black, and colored, citing Hitler’s ideology and theology of racial superiority. Blacks are relocated to their “homelands,” stripped of citizenship, required to carry a “pass book” at all times.

The African National Congress (NAC) contests the apartheid, but the government brutally deals with activists, opens fire on public protests, and imprisons many NAC leaders on Robben Island. These political prisoners study and conspire from there, and one of them – Nelson Mandela – becomes president of the NAC and an icon of freedom. 

South Africa finally cracks in 1990, after a worldwide trade embargo. President Klerk announces that he is in favor of democratic elections and drafts a new South African constitution. Nelson Mandela is elected as South Africa’s first black president in 1994.

In 1999, Robben Island is set apart as a World Heritage Site. 

We went there last Wednesday. 

 Robben Island

 Prison Hallway

 Prison Corridor

 South African Coast

Pray for:

-Safety in the townships tomorrow

-The Lord to speak clearly to me and to the BOH staff about whether I should return in January.

Neighborhood Photographs

I took a walk around the property to take some pictures, and then had fun playing around with the exposure and coloration. I'm itching to get Paint Shop Pro back on my PC so that I can do more! Anyways, here are the good ones:

Lynx Vineyard (our neighbor)

Spring Flowers

Funky Tree Trunk

A Swing Set

Driveway

Beautiful, isn't it? :)

Pray for:

-The team, who are driving back from the airport as I write this!

-Pray for healing - there's a pain in my back, right between the shoulder blades. Ouchie. :(

Outings

I’ve been quite the tourist in the past couple of days, which means that I have pictures! Hooray!

On Friday, I went to the ice skating rink with Maia (who teaches at the Academy) and the Academy students. The students had never been to an ice rink before, and Maia is from Canada, the land of hockey, so it had to be done. 

 Falling Students

Me and Maia

We all left the rink very sore - the students from falling on the hard ice, Maia and I from holding them up and lugging them around.

On Saturday morning, I went to an international marketplace to grab food and explore with the staff. There were yummy treats from just about everywhere, and I sneaked in a few shots before the crowds came. Here are my favorites:

Frying Dutchman

 Bathrooms

 Pinstems

 Ceiling Umbrellas

As for my food, after an unfortunate discovery that I do NOT like buckwheat, I settled on a Greek lamb kabob. It was a shame, because the crepe looked very promising. Oh well.

Unfortunate Crepe

That’s all for now. The team from Community Covenant Church comes tomorrow night! (So soon!?!)

Pray for:

-The team’s schedule got changed at the last minute, so pray that they adapt quickly to the new one.

-Now that I’m a bit more adjusted, pray that I slide into the rhythm of planning and coordinating their visit. I need to get a better feel for the business side of things, and this is my chance to do it!

First Impressions

I'm in South Africa!!! It's been two full days, and in no particular order, here are some of my first observations:

I haven’t taken any pictures yet, but I can’t get over how beautiful it is here. We’re in wine country, near the mountains, and the flowers have started to bloom because of all the rain. If the weather were any better, I’d sit outside all day and read. I hope we put a hammock up somewhere soon.

People go out of their way to care for one another. The academy staff will walk over to personally invite me to dinner, and this morning one of them brought muffins for us. At the Retreat Centre, Bill often calls Debbie his “lovely bride,” even now that they’re at the age of having grandchildren. There is meekness and sincerity in the way people speak. Kindness, joy, and love are noticeable. I hope this rubs off on me.

Other fun tidbits:

1. "marrows" = zucchini; "cellophane" = saran wrap.

2. The government takes pride in the fact that SA's roads are immaculately paved.

3. At the supermarket, fruit should be weighed at the fruit weighing station, not at the checkout. They will look at you like you're an idiot and make you go back if you do it wrong.

4. The meat of choice for lions is human flesh. They like the salty flavor.

5. Celsius. Liters. Meters. Grams. Rand. Everything is measured differently.

More soon - hopefully pictures!

Pray for:

-A good night’s rest.

-The team-building activities I’ll lead tomorrow.

Top 7

Since it's been so long since my last post, here’s a “Top 7” of what I’ve been up to in the past few weeks:

#1. Scrambling to finish well at CCC. I made a welcome binder for Melissa, who will be taking over the college ministry this fall. It’s gigantic and I’m extremely proud. Also, not to bore you, but I did a much-needed 3-year review of the college ministry budget, posing recommendations for the upcoming financial year. Yay! I can handle money!!! :)

#2. Saying goodbye to the VanLentens, who I’ve been staying with all summer long. This meant a lot of really entertaining “quality time” moments with the kids. Most notably, I made cake batter cookies with Eric and Jazzy. The recipe calls for 1 box of cake mix, ½ cup of oil and 2 eggs - it’s about as easy as it gets. But then we added mini marshmallows as a special treat, which at 375˚ ended up melting onto the cookie sheets as a sort of superglue. A half an hour later we had cookie crumbs all over the kitchen, and a stack of very broken (but very tasty!) cookies.

#3. Getting a nasty cold. Ick.

#4. Playing a life-size game of Tetris with my Honda Fit and my boxes of junk. That is, packing up and moving out. Jazzy danced around me with suggestions of where to put things. She wasn’t the least bit helpful, but it was still adorable.

#5. Getting a nasty coffee-deprivation headache to go with my nasty cold. Double-ick.

#6. Recovering from said cold and headache by being a complete couch potato. A special thank-you to Hugh Laurie, Jimmy Fallon, Ellen, my mother, and the makers of TP and ibuprofen.

#7. Now that I’m better, some laundry, some packing, and… dare I say it? Target! :D

The next time I post something, I will be in South Africa!!!

Pray for:

-Safe travel & rest

-Speedy adjustment to the culture & time

Independence.

This week, I was reminded of how incredible it is that a woman as young as I am would be able to go to South Africa all on her own.

I chatted online with Sahar on Wednesday, who is a friend I made when I went to the Arabian Peninsula this past Spring Break. Every change in my life has seemed incredible to her: moving away from home to go to college, living with another family to intern at GCC, and now (potentially) getting a job on the other side of the world. Every time I talk to her, I know that my news completely blows her out of the water.

But then I talk to my friends here, and even they can't believe that I'm adventuring so independently. An old friend, Nareen, came over when I went home this weekend. She told me and my mom that she wants to go to Alaska, but that she is finding it difficult to get her parents to "let go." When my mom said excitedly, "Well have you heard about Sarah going to South Africa?" Nareen was completely shocked.

I am so blessed! God gave me a pastor who would say "go," a heart that would say "ok!!!" and parents who would say "yes." Everything about this has fallen into my lap. What a cool God I serve!

Pray for:

-A team of people who will support me in prayer for my trip this September.

-People in the congregation who will give rides to the Westmont students on Sunday mornings.

Hope

...And now, some light reading from Mark Mathabane's Kaffir Boy:

The ceiling of our shack began to crumble, and the door and wooden window frames began to rot, and in the winter icy winds would whip through. We were reliving the nightmare of Fifteenth Avenue. The slushed walls gradually peeled, inviting bats, rats and other nightly creatures to come live with us.

One day I asked my mother, "Why don't Papa fix the house?"

"It's not his house."

"Whose house is it?" I asked. "We live in it don't we?" Though I knew that we did not own the house, I thought that the least my father could do was to fix it; after all, we lived in it.

"Living in it doesn't make it our house."

"Whose house is it then?"

"It's the landlord's house."

"Why don't he fix it?"

"He doesn't want to."

"We pay him rent, don't we? He should fix it. If it falls, he won't be able to get rent no more."

"Yes, but he won't fix it."

"Why not?"

"HE WON'T FIX IT! NOW HUSH!"

I hushed, and the house continued decaying. Often during the night, particularly after it had rained and the floor was soggy wet, my brother, sisters and I, after being gnawed by vicious red ants and scorpions burrowing through the porous cement floor, would wake up screaming from the floor where we slept. Rats never stopped eating our palms and feet, and we often were unable to walk or handle anything for days because both areas were like open wounds. Bedbugs and lice sucked us dry during the night. And just about every day my mother had to get new cardboard to make pallets because the rats were eating those too.

What strikes me most about this novel is that the author doesn't seem to be as bothered by his standard of living as I am. I cringe at the thought of rats eating people in their sleep, but Mathabane capitalizes his mother's words, "NOW HUSH." He is most troubled by the overwhelming absence of hope.

That's why holistic ministry makes sense to me. People in Philippi (the township where Bridges started) have to continuously battle to protect the hope in their lives from a society that has a long history of taking it away. If a ministry can catalyst them into tangibly regaining hope, then the gospel will be nearby. 

"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

-King Solomon

Pray for:

-Hope to penetrate South Africa, tangibly and spiritually.

-My continued hope in the Lord. Psalm 146:5-6. God is so good!

As I float on.

With my trip being exactly one month away, you would think that I'd have a grand sense of anticipation, excitement, or worry. You would also be wrong. I've been doing my research on South Africa apartheid, I've been calculating trip costs, and I've been explaining my hopes and plans to just about everyone. Fortunately, I am no longer anxious. Unfortunately, it's been difficult to feel anything.

The view from where I stand looks a lot like this. My small, plunky engine putters towards the infinity of God resting on the horizon. My cheeks are happily flushed from the cold, but my nose is numb and runny. Steering is easy. Waiting is not. Mostly, there is silence.

As I hesitantly float on and on, I will continue to hope in Paul's promise that "God will meet all your needs according to the glorious riches in Christ Jesus," and I will try my best to give of myself for His glory.

Pray for:

-People in the congregation to step up and serve the college students this fall.

-A deeper comprehension of my value in Christ. Colossians 2:9-10.

Thankfully...

I am anxious for the College Dinner this Monday, which still doesn't have a host or a plan. I am anxious for the students that will be flooding back into Westmont as early as next week, when I feel so inadequately prepared to welcome and challenge them. I am anxious for someone to lead the college group while I'm in South Africa, especially to welcome back the UCSB students. I am anxious to be healed from the loneliness that has inevitably been in my life since college ended. I am anxious for my trip to South Africa, for the questions it will answer about my future. Thankfully...

"No matter how the wind may blow, it cannot shake the sun."

-JJ Heller

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn,

if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,

your right hand will hold me fast."

-King David

Pray for:

-Trust in God.

-"The peace of God, which transcends all understanding," to guard my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).

The adventure begins.

I bought a round-trip plane ticket to Cape Town, South Africa on Thursday. The total travel time is over 24 hours long. There are four stops, with a 1-hour layover in Dakar Yoff, Senegal, where (according to Dennis) I will stand in the airplane isle holding my luggage while they check the plane and add/subtract passengers. Talk about intense!

Trip dates:

September 13 - October 2

Buying the ticket means that it's REAL. I was hit by that reality so hard that I had to close my eyes when clicking the "submit" button on Orbitz. There's no turning back. I am going to South Africa. Period.

Pray for:

-A good finish to my internship at GCC

-God to prepare my heart in the next month