On the Hokey Pokey and Cold Showers....

You put your right arm in, you put your right arm out, you put your right arm in, and you soap it all about…. 

Pretty much, taking a shower in cold water is a lot like doing the Hokey Pokey. The only difference is, it takes a lot more courage to put your whole self in.Thankfully, the weather is so warm that you don't really notice. We have a wonderful avacado green bathroom, so that makes up for the cold water while showering.

 

This little fellow showed up in my bathroom the other morning. Not to worry though, the ants were trying to take him away.

My travels, post train, were long and arduous. I met up with the group of girls who will become my 'family' in this far country. During orientation in Portland, we climbed a mountain, dipped our feet in the Pacific, and took advantage of the local Bluegrass Festival. Monday, we took to the air, managing the numerous bags that contained all of our earthly belongings. We took turns watching luggage, trying to rest, and listening for our flight announcements. Few hours of sleep (three to be precise) and lots of security lines were the things that stood out to me most. Somehow, we ended up going through security for each of our four flights. God was merciful, however, and I got through without any difficulty.

 

 Rombutan: Delicious once that hairy outside is removed.

 Following our arrival, we spent a night at a nearby island resort/beach. It was beautiful, and good to recover from jet lag and bond with the other girls and some of our staff. We had 4-7 hours of orientation both days there, but in our free time we caught starfish, swam, napped, and got to know each other. If any of you come to visit me, I can now recommend an inexpensive little resort.

I am settling into a sweet little three bedroom house, complete with 8 other women. Our neighbor's chicken likes to visit us in the morning, and especially loves to climb into our windows. Her rooster really loves mornings, and he is trying to encourage the entire neighborhood to get up and enjoy them with him. Because it is light from about 5 am to 6 pm, mornings are actually a really good time to be awake. I'm loving it.

Our humble Kitchen area.

Various forms of transportation.

I'm still getting the hang of public transportation. Basically, everyone thinks that I want a ride on whatever they're driving, so when I walk places, I get beeped at constantly. Although pedestrians technically have the right of way, we are the smallest thing on the road (or even the sidewalk if there is one... It's fair game for most vehicles from my experience) so we have to watch our backs quite literally. That's a taste of some of my first impressions and experiences. Feel free to comment, ask questions, and request pictures of certain things. I'll do my best to please!

On The Way...

I rode past the apartments where grandma used to live. Years ago, when I was a tiny girl, I was scared when the train whistled… For many years after that, I was petrified by trains. Mom says trains are about the only thing I was ever scared of. And here I go, riding one for the next two days. Past my hometown, past the DMV where I passed my drivers test, past the college that hosted so many music camps I attended. Beginning an adventure that will take me to who-knows-where. And I am excited.

If this isn’t adventure, I’m not sure what is. I’m seeing a whole new side to my country… from sea to shining sea (well, not quite)! Fields of sunflowers, amazing rock formations, tall mountains, and wide rivers. There was the extra-long trailer that had a front porch, and proudly sported the name ‘Hotel’.  The families that live in the dumpiest trailer home you ever did see, but had a RV worth tens of thousands of dollars stored in their yard. Small, quaint tons, and huge railroad grounds, trestles that have no rails, and you feel as though you were flying. Tiny, shack-like houses and giant farming operations. This country is full of adventure… new sights to be seen around every curve.

There are friends to be made too. The sweet Amish family, traveling as far as Montana. I remind them of their Aunt Beth, they say… you know, she’s their favorite aunt. The look of surprise on the children’s faces when I pulled out, of all things, Dutch Blitz…. an Amish game. That priceless night of fun I had with three cheerful Amish kids as we played Blitz, Human Uno, and told silly stories. 

Then there was the Mennonite family that joined me at 5am. Sweet, sweet kids, and a 7month old bouncing baby boy to boot! Dear me! The jolly times we’ve had. Sitting four girlies in a seat built for two…. Perfect for telling all the silly jokes and stories that appeal to little girls. Such happy giggling as the bone-weariness of two days on a train set in.

Then there was the bus transfer… Totally unplanned. I guess the rails were messed up. Hello 6 hour bus ride! The good news was, I got a free sub out of the deal. Free food is always good news. After that, Larissa, one of my co-students, and I took the Portland light rail. What a sight we made! Bag and baggage quite literally as both of us sported two large suitcases, two carry-ons, and a bag of food. And Here I am, finally, safe and sound, ready for the next leg of my journey!

On Joy and Sorrow...

As the train pulled away from the station, a lump grew in my throat. I watched my sister growing smaller and tried to memorize her face. I knew it would be the last time I saw her for at least a year. And the sorrow grew as I realized that in just three weeks, I would be pulling away on another train, watching my family and hometown grow to be small, distant memories. And I felt sad.

 I noticed the bruises all over myself. Thinking back to the moments they were created while playing 'Tackle Down" with my nephews, I felt so sad to know they'd be so much older next time I saw them. To realize that my niece wouldn't remember me any more when I saw her again. And I felt sad.

 
As I talked with God about my sadness...I asked Him why it had to hurt. And I felt Him speak to my heart. It is the blessings and joys that I've experienced that make me sad. It is because I've had so much good, that it is difficult to leave. So now, I am happy that I feel sad. I am trying to embrace the feelings of sorrow, remembering the joy-filled moments that cause the sorrow.
In fact, it would be much sadder if I DIDN'T feel sad. If there was nothing good to leave.
It is the amazing friends, family, and church that I have. Each relationship, a different size and shape; each taking a different place in my heart. Each a gift from God, wrapped in a unique package. I'm so thankful for each of you who has been one of God's blessings in my life. Each of you has brought joy to my days, and as a result, each of you are a part of this sorrow I feel. This joyful sorrow that symbolizes all of the love I know. Thank you God, for filling my life with wonderful people!

On the Number 12

The number 12 is an interesting number.
Its the quantity by which eggs are purchased.
It is the number of the tribes of Israel.
It is the age directly preceding ones embarkation into the teenage years.
It is the smallest number with six divisors.
It is the number of months in a year.
It is the number of inches in a foot.
It is the number of fingers Goliath had.
It is the number of days until I leave.
Today, lets celebrate the number twelve, shall we?
 

On This and That....

 I am now the possessor of these two fancy-dancy, uber formal, somewhat expensive pieces of paper. After sending them hither, thither, and yon, I believe they finally have enough stamps, ribbons, and gold seals to satisfy any visa examiner.

My bedroom now has a new addition. My trusty suitcase. My bookshelves are emptying, my walls look sparse. Winter clothing has found new homes, and much of my sewing/crafting stash has taken up new residence.

 Scrubs, bedsheets, and a few odd pieces of clothing have found their way into vacuum sealed travel bags. Because the time is fast approaching. This week has been full of good times with family, as we took a 'last' trip together. Goodbyes are coming closer and closer together now, and I am finding them increasingly difficult. Yet my heart is so sure. I am so confident of God's calling in this, and I stand strong in knowing that His ways are good, and He never gives more than we can handle.

Excitement is mounting day by day. I cannot wait to taste, touch, smell this new land that will become my home. I cannot wait to know the people, learn the culture, and speak the language. I cannot wait to catch babies and share Jesus day by day. Truly, this is a great work. Here am I Lord, send me.

On the Cost....

Missions is expensive. To follow that statement, I could give you dollar amounts and ask for support. But really, I'm talking about a far greater cost.
Because when you break it down, choosing a life of missions is choosing death.

Sure, that's a bit dramatic, but when you stop and think about it, it really is a type of death. Death of things familiar. Death of desires and dreams. Death of a semi-predictable future. The list goes on.
So I've decided.... Missions is Expensive.

Let me break down some of the costs:
It is the cost of leaving loved ones behind.
It is the cost of missing important events in the lives of friends and family (weddings, births, funerals, baptisms...)
It is the cost of living in a strange culture.
It is the cost of developing relationships around language barriers
It is the cost of forcing  one's body to adjust to new climate, habits, hygiene, and nutrition.
It is the cost of forsaking 'normal' and 'comfortable' things.
It is the cost of living in a context of change.
It is the cost of exposing one's self to the pains and sorrows of others.
It is the cost of lonliness.

But you see, I believe there is a far greater cost in NOT doing missions, whether locally or abroad.

It is the cost of being rich and increased with goods, and having need of nothing.... including God.
It is the cost of living a life with minimal eternal impact.
It is the cost of forgetting the real meaning of the Gospel.
It is the cost of not seeing God worshiped in all nations.
It is the cost of ignoring God's command.
It is the cost of souls.

With these different costs in mind, I see a far greater value in serving God through sharing the gospel, than in protecting my life as I know it.
So I choose to be willing.
Willing to go...or to stay. Willing to share. Willing to be vulnerable. Willing to sacrifice. Willing to give.
 So whether here or abroad, I choose to live a life of missions. A life that presents the Gospel both through words, and through actions. May all who come behind me, find me faithful.

On Good Neigbors and 38 Days...

I have a story for you.
This is the kind of story only God can write.
You see, I met my neighbor.
This may not seem so significant to you, but please, permit me to explain. This neighbor that I met does not live here in Wisconsin. She lives in Davao City, Philippines. Actually, she lives just a few blocks from where I will live in 38 days. So sit back and relax, and allow me to tell you the perfectly orchestrated-by-God chain of events that led us together.

It was a hot day, that Monday in June. My sister, Alisha, was working at the coffee shop, rocking out to some Christian tunes. In walks girl by the name of Liz. She had never been to this new little coffee shop, and the quaint, peaceful atmosphere drew her in. When Liz heard the Christian music playing, she wondered if her cute little barrista was a Christian. So, she struck up a conversation with her, which covered topics like homeschool, missions, and a sister who was headed to the Philippines. Liz came back to the coffee shop every day that week with different friends.

Fast forward to Friday. I rode to the coffee shop with Alisha so I could work from there. Mid-morning, Alisha came into the room where I was working, and said, "Melissa, this girl I met brought this lady here, and she's from the Philippines." So, I come out to meet her. Miracle of miracles, Joy introduces herself as a missionary teacher in Davao City, Philippines! I began to explain my plans to work with a maternity Clinic, run by a Christian couple. "Oh yes! I taught school to both of their daughters! I actually live just a few blocks from the Clinic." We both just sat there, stunned.  Even if we'd known of each others existence, we couldn't have planned such a perfect meeting. Only God.
There are so many reasons this is a miracle. Joy was only visiting Wisconsin for two weeks. This is only her second Stateside visit in eight years. Wales is a VERY small town, and Mamma D's is a new coffee shop. Davao City is a very large city. The Philippines is on the other side of the world. The office where I normally spend my days is in downtown Milwaukee. In short, I clearly see the loving hand of God in the crossing of our paths. He is so good to His children.
In other news, I leave in 38 days.
The end.