In Which I Travel Again.....

Here we go again.
Ah! The life of a wayfaring stranger. I'm a wee bit gypsy, I think.
Travel and new homes.
New friends and new faces.

I've kissed the new little face I came to see in Georgia, so this weekend will find me traveling again. Kentucky should be another month of new little people and learning.
I'm sure that too, will look different than I expect it to.


 This 'coming home' thing is not as simple as one might think. While I find open arms and kindness everywhere I turn, my heart doesn't feel settled anywhere. My season in the Philippines is over, yet Wisconsin, with all it's charm and beauty, is not a permanent settling place for me.

And this heart wasn't made to settle. It was made to strive for more.

I have a bit of a fear of 'falling into' the hustle and bustle of everything here, and forgetting to move on.

My prayer at present is for purpose and vision. For clear direction and next steps.
In this season I'm knocking on doors, turning over stones, and trying to find a place that God is working so I can join Him.

And I'm trying to rest. Refresh. Rebuild.






As usual I have big dreams and big ideas. The difficulty now is sorting out the ones that belong to me, and the ones that come from Him.

I'm striving to be prudent and diligent in the meanwhile, stewarding my time in a way that will honor Him.

The God of all peace is where my heart finds home. He is my vision and my soul's true desire.
May this wanderlust keep me ever cognizant that this world is not my home. May it keep me from settling for comfort over courage. May it turn my face ever toward Him.

Another Birthday...

This isn't a post about my birthday, though I do have one of those that seems to float by once-a-year-ish. It is about the birthday of a little girl who arrived 10 days after my birthday. She has a head-full of black hair, dark grey eyes, and the most darling expressions I've ever seen.

One of the benefits of being a traveling, live-in midwife, is that you really get to know your patients, and depending on when your flight is booked, you really get to know their little babies too. I've had the treat of two weeks of newborn snuggles. But now for the main event.

It was not-quite-4am. Outside, the dark cloak of night still clung tightly about dawn's shoulders. My unconsciousness was interrupted by a knocking at my door. I bolted upright, fumbling for my clock. My jumbled thoughts couldn't determine whether I had overslept or if something else was afoot. I opened my door about as far as my eyes were managing to be open. Before me stood a slightly anxious/excited version of the father-to-be. Ah, this made sense. It was B-day.

Thing was, contractions were still pretty spaced out. Based on what I was seeing, I anticipated a long day ahead. The whole household was awake now, making phone calls, boiling water, and giving lots of advice to the laboring mamma.  Mommy, Daddy, and I decided to move the party upstairs. After a prayer, a few photos, and a little laying-out of my equipment something shifted. Contractions were announcing themselves more aggressively, and forcing a longer acquaintance.  Still far enough apart to predict a few more hours of labor, but a bit obstinate now.

 Then came the doozy. 3 minutes of it. And oh! That would be the baby's head I can see! Then sweetly, between contractions, baby girl turned her head and pushed with her feet and birthed her own head. I want to know this girl when she's 20, she's destined to be a world-changer. Nothing like making things happen from the beginning. Then how she yelled. Strong and lusty, just as we had prayed for. Proclaiming her birthday for all the world.

It was like the movies. Every time I opened the bedroom door, 15 eager pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Was she here? Was it time to see baby? Was everything ok? How much did she weigh? Was that really only 3 hours? But mamma and baby needed some time. Daddy and I had some cleaning up to do. So coffee and pastries had to fill in for first sights of a newborn. Then, finally, amid an assault of first pictures and ooohs and aaahs, little girl made her public debut.

That's how it was, folks. Another whirlwind labor and birth. Another snugly, perfect newborn and another happy older brother. And then two weeks of joy, here in Honduras. Smiles, diapers, Spanish, baths, snuggles, and fellowship. And that, was another birthday.

This Wonderful Life....

I sat there, a rooftop in Honduras. Gathered around me were brothers and sisters from Honduras, Ukraine, and the States. Spanish prayer ascended into the clear, star specked sky above us and to one side the silhouettes of mountains rose majestically in the dim night sky. In the opposite direction lightening danced through the distant layers of clouds performing an ode to the Creator. The temperature was perfect at day's end. I thought to myself, 'Who lives this life? How can everything be so perfect?'

It is me. This is my life. I'm treasuring these moments because in this place of an uncertain future, I need perfect spaces like this where I can be indisputably reminded of God's goodness and kindness. I'm thankful for the blessing of fellowship with other believers, and the grace of a time of rest. May the God who has given me this beautiful time, be glorified.

Next Stop Honduras...

My cute little white boy

There are so many ways my life could go next. This incredible, uncertain way of being is sort of frighteningly wonderful. Although I have no long term plans, I have graciously been provided another baby-catching opportunity. Monday, I fly to Honduras to assist in the birth of a little girl. Lord-willing I will stay three weeks with the family, helping them welcome their second child.

A little about the birth of this little boy pictured here. He decided to initiate me into Certified Midwifery by making his entrance into the world backwards, which rather surprised me. Then, to make life even more exciting, he delayed breathing for over 5 minutes. I don't think I have to tell you that a lot of prayers went up. As I pumped air into his tiny lungs, I just remember saying, 'God, you are the creator and giver of life, I cannot give life to this child. Please let him breathe and give life now!' The mercy of God toward us was overwhelming, and God did just that, He gave life to this cute little white boy.

I cannot think of a better way to attend my first independent birth. God gave wisdom and helped me remember my training, but ultimately, He was the only one who could come through for this child. I have such a poignant example of how I need Him in every birth, in every situation. Even more importantly, I can so clearly see His faithfulness in being mighty to save. These are things that can so easily be taken for granted. He is the faithful God who keeps His promises and acts mightily on behalf of His children.

First white baby I ever caught

It is gracious of God to have me in this brokenly-whole sort of place. I see Him directing my every step. In some ways, coming back to the States makes me feel stripped of everything, lost, and broken. In other ways as I can look back and see where I've been, I feel so whole and confident in who He has made me and the things He is doing in me. And so I find myself both whole and broken in the same instant. While life goes on, I see how my whole story is very much a becoming-sort-of-thing rather than a being-sort-of-thing. Also, super yay for Honduras, because the thought of adjusting to another developing nation is in many ways less intimidating than adjusting back to the States.

So yes, God is moving and working in my life. Questions abound, as does His grace. He is daily guiding me and purging me, and I WILL see the faithfulness of God as these next steps continue to unfold. So many decisions and so many blessings all at once. And this heart is overwhelmed on both accounts. But I know in Whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that it's all gonna be worth it.

It is Finished...

It is finished. This journey to become a Certified Professional Midwife (CPM). I'm trained now, though still with plenty to learn. And what a happy thing! I'm done with my huge exam, done with my Philippine training.

"What's next?" You may ask. That is exactly what I'm trying to figure out. I desire to 'go into all the world'. It is merely a matter of when, where, how, and with whom. And God, in His perfect time and way, will reveal that. Until then, I'm here waiting. I'm rejoicing with my sister in her upcoming marriage, helping with wedding plans, and I caught myself a cute little white boy.

Yes, I'm knocking on doors, and yes, I have many huge decisions to make. And yes, I'd love to continue to have you lift me up in your prayers. Much love to all! I'll keep you updated as the next adventures begin to unfold.

On Final Days....

My final days in the Philippines were filled with such sweet sorrow. 'Babies' I welcomed, now children, walking, talking, so grown up! Friends and co-workers who have become like family to me, goodbyes... some that will never be 'hello's again in this life. On my last Sunday I wrote this:






Crawling to the throne of Jesus,
Lying at His feet in silent plee.
Surrendered, Surrendering, Empty.

Empty as I should be.
No plans, no control.
Offering me, it's all I have.
Waiting for His dreams to take root in my heart.

Lying prone, the ultimate surrender.
He may do what He will, I offer Him control
This prison of freedom to which I've succumbed.

And yes, its uncomfortable.
But oh! Such peace.
That His will may be my goal.

Then a wonderful visit in Manlia with these friends and their children. I jumping off point, a last, sweet farewell until the next country that brings us together. A Sunday church service. A heart's prayer in the form of a song.

Jesus at the Center
This has become my song and prayer for this next, uncertain season. Jesus, be the center of my life.

On The Importance of Things....

I've been thinking a lot about the emphasis we place on different things vs. their actual importance. It's actually a really depressing train of thought. It doesn't take one long to encounter things in society, the church, and more alarmingly, in one's self that are really poorly prioritized. Not all of these apply to every person, and each of us have blind spots, but I just have some questions.

When did modesty become more important than poverty?

It seems every week I see some new blog post from a guy, pleading with his Christian sisters to dress modestly. I see pricy swim wear, which could double as a snowmobile suit, and another link to another sermon about the importance of modesty. I think I've been to more camps and conferences that touch on modesty than ones that touch on poverty too. To go to such and such a camp, you must wear clothes within certain guidelines, but they never talk about how much of your income you should give to the poor. Modesty is important, but scripture has two verses about it, yet the gospel was DESIGNED for the poor. How does this work?

How does 'raising a good family' take precedence over evangelism?

'Right now we're just focused on raising our family.' 'My ministry right now is my children.' May I make an observation? Is it possible that it is IMPOSSIBLE to raise a godly family without an emphasis on evangelism? Maybe sheltering our children is doing more harm than good. If our youth see sin as sin, in the context of reaching sinners, maybe it will look less attractive to them. If they are constantly renewed in the joy of their salvation by sharing that joy and truth with others, maybe it will sink in and stick around. Perhaps it is the wisdom of God that He commands us to make disciples. Nothing beats discipling for keeping one on one's toes spiritually.

A baby from last March

Why do we think it is more important to get to church on time, than to live the gospel?

How is it that we'd rather create family discord, ignore the stranded commuter on the side of the road, and skip sharing with the gas station attendant in order to get to church on time? It might be more holy to live the gospel, than to go to church. And maybe we'll be radical and strange, but possibly that will make Christianity attractive and authentic. Maybe if we give up 'saving face' at church and focus on saving souls, the Christ will be more accurately represented. He often stopped to talk with a blind man, or paused his 'schedule' to make time for the children.

When did our needs become more important than the church?

Why is it now legitimate to stay home from church because you 'didn't have the energy'? And at what point does the excuse, 'I'm just not being fed' need to be turned into the question 'Who are you feeding?" Yeah, church requires energy, and many times, may I say MOST OF THE TIME we will feel like we are doing more giving than receiving. But when did this become all about us? Can the hand say to the mouth,"I feel like I'm doing more giving than receiving?" Where is the concept of laying down our lives for our brethren?

Why is it ok to debate theology at the risk of unity?

When did Christians get this concept of needing to be right, and to make sure everyone else is too? Maybe its time we realize that we've all got a few things right, and a lot of things wrong, and are probably completely ignorant as to which things fall into each category. Possibly it would behoove us to see that music styles, preference on alcohol intake, and handshake vs. holy kiss are not salvation issues, and don't need to be matters of division. Even 'more major' issues SHOULD NOT come between two people who believe the basics of the gospel. Maybe the diversity in beliefs and traditions is actually a beautiful statement about how big God is, and how He loves variety. Maybe different denominations each represent a different aspect of a massive God as each has understanding to do. And since people are to know us by our love one toward another, lets allow that to cross denominational boundaries.

Why is it ok to buy a $5 coffee, but financially irresponsible to give generously and live by faith?

Why can people 'go out' after church events, but missionaries are ill-funded? When some people drive an old car, rent a small apartment, and spend a lot on missions work, I have heard them described as 'unstable' or 'financially irresponsible'. Yet when the next person over has a $5 per day coffee habit, is making car payments, and does not involve themselves in missions, I hear them described as 'trying to get ahead' and 'settling down'. We have this backwards. Investing in eternity is wise, no matter the cost. Investing in this life is dangerous. Where our treasure is will dictate where our heart puts down roots.

Please, dear reader, do not take all of these thoughts in a wrong way. I'm asking questions. I'm processing. I'm preparing to come back to a life I once knew, but with a completely different perspective and as a result, I'm questioning values I once held and actions I once justified. Yes, there are two sides to all of these issues. And yes, I'm offering one perspective. But these are my raw thoughts based on life as I see it right now. Will they change over time? I hope so. I welcome your thoughts as part of this process. Peace out.

I'm Dying....

.... And so are you.

It's been that way since I was born. Because life is a terminal diagnosis. We're all dying, some just faster than others. I just wish we would live a little more that way. Like the dying people we are, savoring moments,  speaking kind words, and making decisions count.

Dying people tend to consider eternity in their decisions.  They make choices to maximize their time and money. They take risks because risks seem less risky when nothing is sure anyways.  Dying people do things now, because later might not come. Visits and conversations are ended with care just in case. Even to those who categorize themselves as 'living' rather than 'dying' there is nothing sure in this life... we must each realize that we're dying.

Do you know what else we should realize? That everyone else is dying too. You don't tend to focus on the faults of dying people, you want to stay positive and uplifting. That habit would benefit every relationship we have. Zoom in on the good things and let the ick around it all drift out of focus. The picture book of our lives would be so much more lovely. As would our speech.

If we really understood that there is no cure for death, how would we live differently? Would we invest more in people than things? Would we take time to tell the dying people around us about eternal living? About LIFE and that more abundantly? Would we focus more on appearance or on character? I think we would fit more living into life.

Maybe if we knew we were dying, church would become Christians loving Christians, and we would tell other people our life story in order to introduce them to the LIFE in our story. Because if we were dying, we'd realize that we have a finite number of minutes to share the Joy and the Truth, and that at any time our meter might be up. And we'd understand that if we ever plan to change the world or the way we interact with it, this is our chance.

Would we prioritize the important over the urgent? The needs of others above our own? Would we be slower to speak unkind things and more sincere and timely in apology when we did? Would we give sooner than taking? If we really comprehended the inevitability of dying, which issues in our lives would we shift to the 'No Big Deal' list?

We take care of dying people, and we usually cut them some slack.... if we realize they're dying. We cherish them and try to make their lives easier. We look after the well-being of their souls. We make sacrifices on their behalf and give up our comfort for theirs.
Essentially, we give them the best of everything we have. And we listen to them too. Because they're dying, after all. And somehow the status of dying makes you more important.

So guess what. You're dying. And so is everyone else. Maybe it is time we start living that way.

Who am I?

Who am I?

It's like the great question of all time. I think most people spend significant portions of their lives trying to figure this out. What people don't seem to 'get' is that in real, alive people, that is constantly changing. So is our image of who we want to become. Sometimes we don't realize how much it is shaped by our decisions as well as the influences in our lives. And how little we really do understand ourselves.

Lately, I have been going through an identity crisis. I'm just putting that out there, all honest and stuff. See, my time here is wrapping up, and while I still see my life calling as one of missions, does one really identify as a missionary while between assignments? And if not a missionary, what? I have no job, no distinct social group, no permanent location.... so many of the little identifying details of my life are in limbo right now.

So there will be people who tell me, "your identity is in Christ". Yes. That is true, but only so helpful. Because while Christ is the core of my being, He has also made me a goal oriented person. And honestly, most of the time people say things like "You don't have to be yourself, you just have to be like Jesus" or "Your identity is in Christ" , what they are really saying is, here is my perception of Christ-like behavior, and a church you should probably identify with. That isn't a criticism. It is simply a very human trait of projecting our expectations onto other people. We all do it.

Who am I and what has become of the Melissa I used to know? Sometimes I wonder. I love my life here, but it is surrounded by people. I am never alone. And the super friendly, always smiling, energetic, ready-to-meet-new-people version of me has necessarily adapted. I'm like a laptop on battery settings.... I am conserving energy. Is this who I've become, or is it just a phase? Eh.... we'll see. I still dance and sing and smile, it's all good. Life is a process of becoming.

I was reminded the other day, of when I graduated from college. I clearly remember saying, "I once again find myself in the very healthy but uncomfortable position of having absolutely no clue what is next." And I thought of the last three times I found myself at that place. As Psalms encourages us to do, I remembered the goodness of the Lord at all those times. I remember how God placed opportunities in my life that were beyond belief, and how my life just kept taking amazing turns. And it gave me hope. I should probably have this down by now, but if I'm straightforward, I still like to feel like I'm in control.

Controlled, risk-free surrender. I think that is what I want. It's a total oxymoron though, so that is another thing I'm going to have to let go of. I'm actually a little afraid of coming back to the US. I'm afraid that everything will have changed, and at the same time, that nothing will have changed. I'm afraid of getting too comfortable, I'm afraid of not finding a niche, and I'm afraid of leaving somewhere that has been so wonderful and transformative. Actually, maybe those fears apply to anywhere, ya know? Because humans are humans no matter where we are. We sin, we lose focus, and we sometimes get so caught up in 'Christianity' that it is an act of habit, not an act of love.

So basically I've concluded that moving back to the States is outside of my comfort zone. Ah, a perfect place to be. I expect that God will shake me up a bit, and root out a few things that have settled in too deeply. I don't really know what else to expect. To date, I've had no supernatural revelations of how I should direct my steps. But oh! The mercy of the Lord as we daily rely on Him for every decision. So yeah, on a lot of levels I am trying to answer the question, "Who am I?" just like everybody else is.

I revel in the fact that God is the same, no matter which country I serve Him from. It seems incredible to me that He is big enough to boggle our minds, and yet He is unchanging. And I find myself astounded at the great wisdom of a God who understood how important it would be for us to know, "I am the Lord, I change not". Maybe who I am isn't all that important as long as I'm sure of who He is.

Do You Want Her?

She was cute. That's what I thought from the second she walked in with her white and red polka-dotted dress. She was also really afraid. It took a lot of coaxing and reassurance just to walk her through the normal admittance procedure. If I'd had to guess, I would've said it was her first, but she already has a little girl. She was just so.... lost. She latched on to me pretty quickly, and thereafter never let me leave her side.

Her support person was her sister in law. A bundle of giggles, I'm not sure how much support she really was. Her interest was piqued when she found out that we had milk and Milo for the patients. She lost no time in preparing one for the patient, and another for herself. And she giggled. Really, she giggled through the whole thing. Even amidst the intensity of the baby's very emergence, she was falling off her chair in giggles and snorts. Not much help, it seemed.

But where was the husband? The father of this baby? He's not around anymore. He's gone. So when she pulled me over and had me squat down so that I was the right height for support, I knew I was all she had. I didn't scold her when she wrapped her arms around my neck and gripped tightly with the pain. I had become more than just a set of hands to welcome her baby. We prayed and we breathed and then it was time.

Nothing else existed in the moment of birth. Not the sister-in-law who was falling off her chair in giggles nearby, not the extra hands that came to help, and not the baby initiating her vocal cords in the next bed. She responded to my words of comfort and my encouragement to relax and let go of her fear. Our eyes locked, and we worked together to get that tiny girl safely into the world. A deep, deep sigh, and her head laid back and her eyes closed. Her hands found the new little one placed on her belly.

The nose was too flat. Momma kept pinching it. She told me she wanted her baby's nose to be tall like mine, so she kept pinching it. The upside is, baby just survived birth and seemed not to notice the small discomfort that was nasal reshaping therapy. I admired her baby's beauty as I began the newborn exam.

"Do you want her?"

My eyes darted to the mother's face, trying to reassure my quickening pulse that she was teasing.

"Do you want her? You can adopt her."

Her face was serious, and her sister-in-law repeated the question. I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered, horrified, or just heartbroken. And although reason tried to quell it, something deep inside me was screaming "Yes, yes, yes, YES!". Because she was precious and beautiful and I DO want a baby. Something wanted to treasure this tiny soul as she deserves to be treasured and that same something recoiled from the thought of a mother so willing to part with her new daughter.

"But she's yours, and she's perfect and she's beautiful."

"No, you can have her. You can take her to America and she can be yours."

In the absence of proper words, I defaulted to my nervous giggle. Act like its a joke. We finished up the exam and I focused on helping Momma and baby bond. Little girl was carefully cared for, even loved I think.  Probably her life will be tough with no Daddy to take care of her. I cannot change that even if I could consider adopting her. But I can pray that she will be loved. And I can trust, because I know there is One Daddy who will gladly adopt her. She will never have to ask Him "Do you want me?" because He's already signed her adoption papers with His blood.

Angkor Wat... Sequal to A Watery Adventure

There is this amazing place near Siem Reap. It covers over 400 square Km(248 sq miles). After housing empires, it was first a Hindu, then a Buddhist temple. Currently, it is both a historical site and a Wat, which is a Buddhist monastery/temple.

Angkor Wat.

For centuries, this amazing set of structures, temples, palaces, hydraulic systems, and canals was the headquarters of several different empires. Besides being massive, the place is filled with intricate carvings, statues, relief work, and architecture.

And everywhere there are the reminders that humans need God. On almost every surface there are images of different 'divine' beings. In many of the buildings there are shrines and idols. It is the largest religious monument in the world. It was erected in honor of deities, not in honor of the king or emperor.

Giant lion-like creatures guard the entrances to many of the buildings. Much like the ancient temple of Solomon would've been, every single surface of wall, ceiling, pillar, and porch was intricately decorated with stone carvings and embellishments.

This was all constructed in a time where heavy machinery was synonymous with an elephant. Yet there is still some mystery to how it was all constructed and has stayed together so well. Stone joints are carefully carved, and gravity is amazingly utilized to hold everything together. It is thought that bamboo scaffolds and pulley systems were behind much of the construction.

It is impossible to even comprehend the time and man-hours that went into this whole place. Some of the inscriptions indicate that 300,000 laborers and 6000 elephants were used in the construction of one temple alone. Massive stones, at least 5 million tons of them, were transported from a quarry about 25 miles away. They were bonded together with a vegetable compound, not mortar, making the joints almost invisible.

A common theme is the seven-headed snake god, Naga. This god represents immortality, energy, timelessness, and earth. This picture has men supporting the body of the snake god, which formed a rail along a bridge. This god is thought of as a sort of intermediary between man and the gods.

The temple below is an evidence of just how far man will go to try to reach God. There are several such temples throughout the grounds. It just speaks to the desperation we have to know our creator. To give worship to One that is Higher than ourselves.

As these structures are ancient, many are crumbling. Trees grow up through some of the temples, buildings, an walkways. The jungle-feel adds an additional element of incredible awe to the whole place. One of the palace areas has an elephant gate, and an entire walkway supported by identical columns, which goes on for hundreds of yards.

In the end, I stand awed by what men can do. At the same time, the ruin of it all... all the years, manpower, planning, work, and lives that went into this incredible place.... and now it is just ruins of what used to be. It is a reminder of human mortality and limitations. The visit reminded me once again of the vapor of our lives. While it is awe-inspiring to see what amazing things men can build and do, it is equally as awe-some to realize what humans cannot do. Despite our best efforts, we are mortal, and our physical labor ends in ruin.

While I may be over-spiritualizing the whole thing, I just felt once again how important it is to invest in eternity. How incredible it is to have a God who allows us access to Himself. It is all just a reminder to let our biggest efforts go toward things of eternal value.

"Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at things in life that really don't matter." - Francis Chan

Some Super Things....

My last post was rather depressing. It was where I was at the moment, feeling very discouraged and a bit alone. The thing is, although I was facing quite a conglomerate of impossible-seeming situations, God never failed in His faithfulness toward me. He gave me a lot of super things in life this last two weeks.

Time with a super baby

Time with a super food (can anyone say Wasabiiiiiiiii!)

 This baby is probably the cutest baby I ever saw in my life. Please don't take offense if you also have a cute baby, but she was just a sweetheart, and snuggles from her came at just the right times. She made all sorts of hilarious faces, and brought a bright bit of joy to my difficult days.

Time with a super woman

 
It may seem insignificant, but even in a land filled with delicious foods, familiar flavors are such a comfort. I found the supplies for making California rolls, and some Wasabi powder at the grocery store. This was a first for me, constructing my own rolls. As one of my roommates put it, "The wonderful thing about eating Wasabi, is you're never quite certain you'll survive."




I also have some pretty great friends. Friends who really helped me out when I wasn't feeling the greatest, and who brightened my days and pointed me to Jesus. Friends who helped me achieve my New Year's Resolution of earning 2 free Gelattos with my customer punch card. Who let me cry in front of them, and process things a million times, and prayed for me, and checked on how I was doing. Friends who walked with me through some difficult choices and difficult days.

Time with a super man

I'm so thankful for a Super God. He has provided the finances I needed for my NARM exam, the final step in my program journey here. He provided encouragement through my church here. Also, He has begun to put some vision in my heart. The transition ahead of me feels daunting, but I have hope resting in the fact that God has really ordained this time in my life, and will direct my steps. He has also continued to restore my body and my strength so that today I am walking in health that was not mine just 2 weeks ago.

Actually, make that two super women

God has provided for my friends as well, lining up jobs and opportunities for them as they also plan to return to countries of origin. He has blessed a few friends in the States with beautiful babies of their own. He has given Joy instead of Mourning, Gladness instead of Heaviness, and Hope in the place of Despair. He has blessed my studies, my relationships, my work, and my health. Blessed be the Name of the Lord, who has made heaven and earth. Blessed be His Glorious Name. It's pretty Super to have a God of the Universe looking out for a soul like me.

Just a lot.....

There's been a lot going on recently.... just.... a lot. All sorts of things, some better than others.
Here are some things that have happened.

• I came to the end of my academic coursework

Yep, two years of study and stress has finally wrapped up, and my focus shifts to solidifying all that I've learned in hopes of passing a board exam when I return to States. There is a lot pivoting on that crucial exam, so the pressure is on in a whole new way!

• I had two visitors from the States

Mrs. Eide and Michelle came to visit, and got a week-long taste of my life here. They came during the time we were having 4-8 hours of power outages daily, so they really got to experience the heat first-hand. It was so good to see familiar faces.

• 3 of my co-workers have been hospitalized for crazy, life-threatening things

It is a tad stressful, to say the least, when co-workers are hospitalized. We take turns staying with them 24-7, and that adds to the craziness. God has been faithful, and all three are on the mend. But a crazy autoimmune thing, appendicitis, and a very complicated pregnancy and delivery were all a bit touch-and-go for a while there.

• One of my babies required 5 minutes of resuscitation after birth 

This is just stressful no matter how you look at it. Thankfully, that baby is breathing on his own now, due to be released from the hospital where we took him after we got him going.

• I am feeling weary, and my body is begging me for a break

It is the proverbial crash at the end of a really crazy few weeks, months, or maybe years. My body has betrayed me, and I am struggling to keep up with basic life.

Honestly, friends, I am weary and in need of prayers. I see God's hand in my daily life, and I am assured of His kindness toward me. But my human frailty is daily before me, and tonight, more than usual. I covet your prayers, dear people. I need strength and wisdom and clarity. I need a peace that passes all understanding.

There's some straight up mission-field honesty for ya. Humanity and frailty at its finest. Thankfully, God is near to those who are broken, and strengthens the weak. Grace and peace to all of you.
Love,
Miss-o-wissa

A Watery Adventure (part 2)...

This is about the people. Lovely, dark-eyed, people with skin the color of perfectly creamed coffee. People from two very different places, who live alongside each other, melding customs and ways. People who work together to make life happen.

The Kami are from Cambodia originally. They have long lived on and around the lake, drawing from its many resources for sustenance. The other group is the Vietnamese. They came here as refugees, but they've stayed and built a life here. Though the communities have remained separate, intermarriage occurs, along with the borrowing of various customs and skills.

And faith. Faith seems to be similar in both groups. Buddhism, ancestor worship, and a strong fear of spirits and ghosts. Everything is seen to have spiritual origins, and those who've preceded us in death are seen to greatly impact our lives. Altars are erected in even the smallest homes to appease these spirits. Life operates on a basis of fear. Consequences. Superstition.

But there is Hope, and it is being offered. Offered by those from the outside, working alongside these people, and offered from the inside, from those who've seen Hope and Life and Light.

This little fella was about 8-9 months old. His momma didn't want him, and twice, she attempted to abort him. After the second attempt failed, she accepted her pregnancy and is now raising her little boy. He is jolly, though slightly delayed in physical development.

And this couple. A school teacher and his wife. Our hosts for out time on the lake. This beautiful couple are parents to two, and gracious in hospitality. Both are hard workers. Their love of God shows on their faces, and through every action. It was an honor to get to know them.

Every morning around 7 am, between 30-70 kids show up for school. They sit on the floor with open notebooks, all ages and grades together. They teach each other and are taught by Anhai, the school-teacher above. The chatter and energy of these kids was what we woke up to every morning.

And smiling faces greeted us with hugs and carefully drawn pictures. They taught us to count and identify colors in their mother-tongue. They showed us their mad boating skills. And they invited us to join them in the myriad of games that seem to be universal to school-aged children around the world.

I so enjoyed these beautiful people. Hospitable, friendly, and so sweet. The types of things that communicate beyond language barriers. Together we enjoyed rice and fish for every meal, and together we squatted at the barge's edge and washed dishes right into the lake.

I spent quite a bit of time with these women, as we worked together on bringing maternal healthcare to the village. We learned from each other.... customs, ways of thinking, and care techniques. We combined our knowledge and offered it in a place where medical care is sketchy at best. We talked about strategies and opportunities. We used the opportunities that arose, and offered care where we were asked to.

What a beautiful opportunity we had, crossing cultures, languages, and boarders. We saw opportunity and need. Together, these ladies and I reached out to their own in the ways we were able. Three languages, three cultures, three groups of people came together for 9 days, and we worked together to offer hope.

A Watery Adventure...

I think I'll talk about my time in Cambodia in three separate posts. This first one will focus on the place. Tonle Sap lake. This is a fresh-water lake in Cambodia, ranging from 3,000 sq. Km in the dry season, to 10,000 sq. km in the rainy season. It isn't so deep, 1-3 meters in the dry season, and up to 14 meters in the rainy season. While I was there, We actually could've walked across the entire lake.... It was only about 4 feet deep!
 

The population on this lake is immense. When I say 'on' the lake, I am not exaggerating. Sure, there are houses on stilts NEAR the lake, but there are also quite a number of villages floating out on the lake. The estimated population on the lake is around 80,000 people.

They live on boats and barges and rafts.... basically anything that floats.And even the littlest ones can paddle anything. One little boy paddled to school on a cooler lid every day.  Stores float too. And the fiberglass boat shop, and the engine repair shop. Everything is adapted to this watery lifestyle.

The lake is everything. The source of food and water and the receptacle of waste and garbage. It is work and recreation, danger and safety. That is where swimming, showering, laundry, and dishes all take place.

The main source of food is fish. Always accompanied by rice. Sometimes, the vegetable boat passes by that day, and there is some variety. Other times a turtle, snake, or bird varies the diet.



When a storm blows in, you hope and pray that the anchor will hold, lest you blow away. You bring out your pots and pans and bang loudly, hoping to scare the winds away. Every morning your view is different as your house and the houses of those around you have rotated.

And the sunsets are always beautiful, reflecting off the lake for miles. Sometimes there is peaceful serenity, but usually the sounds of motor boats, music, and neighbors are prevalent, filling the air with life. Because everyone lives closely, they share the clatter and music of daily life.