Yesterday I turned 28. TWENTY-EIGHT.
Seriously, how is this possible? Didn't I just get a baby-blue Schwinn bicycle with a white a floral banana seat for my birthday a few years ago? And how can I be closer to thirty than I am twenty when I still feel like I am 18 trying to figure out what to do with my life?
28.
It's ridiculous and absurd.
Year 27 taught me a lot...more than I've ever imagined I could learn in one year. I learned how to cook, shop, drive, and survive in a foreign country. I learned a foreign language. Correction: I started learning a foreign language. I learned more about myself than I cared to know. I learned that I really am pretty outgoing...and not nearly as shy as I thought I was. I learned that I love diversity, and that I thrive under high expectations. I learned that I really am more indecisive than I ever thought I was. I learned that life truly is about people...and watched God create in me an intense love for people here.
I'm anxious and nervous for year 28. Life is far more uncertain and unpredictable than I thought it was supposed to be at this age. I log into my finance account and am daily reminded that I live by faith. Faith that God will provide now...and faith that at the end of this He will provide my next job, my next paycheck, my next housing, my next country, my next everything. I pour through God's Word begging Him for direction for my life...and I imagine He smiles...because He knows why He has not revealed that to me yet. I know that right now He is preparing me for my "next."
Deep in my heart I know this year will require more of my faith than I think I am ready to handle. While I seek Him, I know He has asked of me exactly what He has asked of his servants..."Go. Go where I lead. Follow Me."
I am finding comfort in the rarest of Scriptures. Every time I read through the Old Testament I find men and women, far older than I, who were asked to live lives that made no sense. Most of their ministries started when they were near retirement age. And while I'm not there yet... I take comfort that I don't need to have this all figured out. God, the only One who can discern my heart, has created and designed me for His glory. And He knows how and where I can best give Him glory...and because He guards and protects His glory...He will lead me to the place where I can best glorify Him. Ironically, He's been simultaneously teaching me that HE is the determiner of the value of a life...and that I can't think one profession, or one path is the ultimate "glory-bringer" to God. If Joseph spent years of his life as a slave bringing glory to God... why should I think I could craft the perfect scenario to bring God glory?
Regardless of what 28 brings, I know it will be an adventure.
So, ready or not, here I come...
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 27, 2011
My apologies...
Dear Portugal,
Yes, I am the idiot. I forgot that when it starts raining, flip-flops get put away, dark colors come out, and dresses are banished to the back of the closet.
I am sorry. Please stop staring. I know it might look as if I will catch a cold that will kill me. I promise, I'll be alright.
And I'll never wear a bright pink summer dress with a floral sweater and pink flip-flops again until at least April.
Just please, stop staring.
A Stupid American
Yes, I am the idiot. I forgot that when it starts raining, flip-flops get put away, dark colors come out, and dresses are banished to the back of the closet.
I am sorry. Please stop staring. I know it might look as if I will catch a cold that will kill me. I promise, I'll be alright.
And I'll never wear a bright pink summer dress with a floral sweater and pink flip-flops again until at least April.
Just please, stop staring.
A Stupid American
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Tears.
"What is it? What is it?" he said. "I do not wish to leave the jungle, and I do not know what this is. Am I dying, Bagheera?"
"No, Little Brother. That is only tears such as men use," said Bagheera. "Now I know thou art a man, and a man's cub no longer. The jungle is shut indeed to thee henceforward. Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears."
So Mowgli sat and cried as though his heart would break; and he had never cried in all his life before.
"Now," he said, "I will go to men. But first, I must say farewell...
You will not forget me?"
"Never..."
I read this selection to my students today. I fought viciously to not cry in front of them. Now, as I am typing it... the tears are flowing freely. Because I understand what it feels like to realize that doors may be shutting...no matter how hard I wish and hope that they won't. I understand what it feels like to feel as if I fit better in a place that isn't made for me than I do in the place that was. I understand that I have goodbyes that will come...and when the time comes...I don't really know if I will be able to make them. I understand what it feels like to not understand myself...and like Mowgli...I've been asking God over and over, "What is it? What is this that is going on inside of me?"
So today...I am just letting the tears fall.
Because I don't have an answer as to why I feel like the doors are shutting.
Because I don't get why God brought me here to lead me away.
Because I don't understand what on earth He is doing.
Because I don't know what to do next...
So the tears fall...
And I am letting them.
After all... they are only tears.
"No, Little Brother. That is only tears such as men use," said Bagheera. "Now I know thou art a man, and a man's cub no longer. The jungle is shut indeed to thee henceforward. Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears."
So Mowgli sat and cried as though his heart would break; and he had never cried in all his life before.
"Now," he said, "I will go to men. But first, I must say farewell...
You will not forget me?"
"Never..."
I read this selection to my students today. I fought viciously to not cry in front of them. Now, as I am typing it... the tears are flowing freely. Because I understand what it feels like to realize that doors may be shutting...no matter how hard I wish and hope that they won't. I understand what it feels like to feel as if I fit better in a place that isn't made for me than I do in the place that was. I understand that I have goodbyes that will come...and when the time comes...I don't really know if I will be able to make them. I understand what it feels like to not understand myself...and like Mowgli...I've been asking God over and over, "What is it? What is this that is going on inside of me?"
So today...I am just letting the tears fall.
Because I don't have an answer as to why I feel like the doors are shutting.
Because I don't get why God brought me here to lead me away.
Because I don't understand what on earth He is doing.
Because I don't know what to do next...
So the tears fall...
And I am letting them.
After all... they are only tears.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
ESL... ;)
I have started teaching an ESL class in a small community every Thursday night from nine until eleven. If you had told me ten years ago I would be standing in front of ten woman from the ages of forty to sixty and teaching them English, I would have laughed in your face. Every week I stand in front of them I feel like Moses, quietly whispering, "Oh, Lord, I think you have the wrong one for this."
Regardless of how nervous I am, I really love doing it. The women are so much fun.
This week was nothing short of hysterical. I have been trying to teach them the present continuous tense. For example, "What are you doing? I am studying. I am reading. I am sleeping."
After we practiced, read, and did some activities, I decided in the spur of the moment to do an activity with my ladies that I had read about online. The idea of the game is that they have to create as many excuses as possible to explain why a friend can't come to the phone. For the most part, they were basically the same. "She's sleeping. She's working."
Until I got to one student. She makes me laugh every week. She loves to practice what little English she knows, and often it comes out far from perfect. All of her examples were great until I got to the last one. "I'm sorry, she's to suck."
I looked at her, looked at the other women, and then asked her to repeat herself. Surely I heard that incorrectly. "I'm sorry, she's to suck." Ok. That was what she said...
I asked her what she meant, and she smiled and said, "You know. 'To suck.' When you have the baby and you..." she then proceeded to act out nursing a baby.
I looked across the room to see if my male colleague was listening to any of this. Thankfully, he was fully engaged with his student. So, I discreetly wrote the word, "breastfeeding" on the white board (for some reason the term, "nursing" did NOT come to me...until another colleague mentioned it after I told her the story). I quietly said, "We don't say, 'to suck.' We would say this word." I made sure I didn't say it. After all, I didn't want to draw the attention of the men in the room.
Sure enough, five, loud, Portuguese woman looked at the word and simultaneously said, "BREASTFEEDING!" as loud as they could. My male colleague instantly stopped, turned, and covered his ears. I tried to quickly move on, but all of them kept repeating the word. And then proceeded to write it in their notebooks.
:)
I love my crazy, ridiculous life.
Regardless of how nervous I am, I really love doing it. The women are so much fun.
This week was nothing short of hysterical. I have been trying to teach them the present continuous tense. For example, "What are you doing? I am studying. I am reading. I am sleeping."
After we practiced, read, and did some activities, I decided in the spur of the moment to do an activity with my ladies that I had read about online. The idea of the game is that they have to create as many excuses as possible to explain why a friend can't come to the phone. For the most part, they were basically the same. "She's sleeping. She's working."
Until I got to one student. She makes me laugh every week. She loves to practice what little English she knows, and often it comes out far from perfect. All of her examples were great until I got to the last one. "I'm sorry, she's to suck."
I looked at her, looked at the other women, and then asked her to repeat herself. Surely I heard that incorrectly. "I'm sorry, she's to suck." Ok. That was what she said...
I asked her what she meant, and she smiled and said, "You know. 'To suck.' When you have the baby and you..." she then proceeded to act out nursing a baby.
I looked across the room to see if my male colleague was listening to any of this. Thankfully, he was fully engaged with his student. So, I discreetly wrote the word, "breastfeeding" on the white board (for some reason the term, "nursing" did NOT come to me...until another colleague mentioned it after I told her the story). I quietly said, "We don't say, 'to suck.' We would say this word." I made sure I didn't say it. After all, I didn't want to draw the attention of the men in the room.
Sure enough, five, loud, Portuguese woman looked at the word and simultaneously said, "BREASTFEEDING!" as loud as they could. My male colleague instantly stopped, turned, and covered his ears. I tried to quickly move on, but all of them kept repeating the word. And then proceeded to write it in their notebooks.
:)
I love my crazy, ridiculous life.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Safe
"To the one who's dreams are falling all apart
And all you're left with is a tired and broken heart:
I can tell by your eyes you think you're on your own,
but you're not all alone.
Have you heard of the One who can calm the raging seas
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet?
With a love so strong he'll never let you go,
oh you're not alone.
You will be safe in His arms.
You will be safe in His arms.
'Cause the hands that hold the world are holding your heart,
This is the promise He made:
He will be with You always.
When everything is falling apart,
You will be safe in His arms
Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life,
Is the very same voice that calls you now to rise?
So hear Him now, He's calling you home.
You will never be alone.
These are the hands that built the mountains,
the hands that calm the seas.
These are the arms that hold the heavens,
they are holding you and me.
These are hands that healed the leper,
Pulled the lame up to their feet,
These are the arms that were nailed to a cross,
to break our chains and set us free."
This morning I walked into my classroom and pulled up some music that a friend recently gave me. I opened up the artist, and randomly selected a song I thought I had never heard. As the music started playing, I started crying. They were words that I desperately needed to hear today...
I don't think following Jesus is safe...at all. In fact, I think it is in all worldly thinking the most dangerous thing one can do. And there are days when my heart fights against the surrender to which I know Christ has called me. It's unsafe. It's scary. It's uncomfortable. And yet I know... the day I met Christ is the day He started redefining my definition of "safe." Safe means I trust Him. Safe means I believe there is One who can work anything for my good. Safe means I go where He wants me to go and do what He wants me to do because I reverently adore and fear Him. Safe means a broken heart...because to love anyone this side of heaven means hurt. Safe means surrender.
And this morning, as the words to this song confronted me with the struggle deep within, I could feel that tugging on my heart. He will be with me. When my world is in utter chaos, my future uncertain, my heart torn, I am still safe. Not because I will choose to stop loving people that I know I may have to leave, or because I will choose to shut off my heart to what God may be doing that feels anything but safe...but because He is with me.
And I am in His hands.
Para sempre.
Always.
And all you're left with is a tired and broken heart:
I can tell by your eyes you think you're on your own,
but you're not all alone.
Have you heard of the One who can calm the raging seas
Give sight to the blind, pull the lame up to their feet?
With a love so strong he'll never let you go,
oh you're not alone.
You will be safe in His arms.
You will be safe in His arms.
'Cause the hands that hold the world are holding your heart,
This is the promise He made:
He will be with You always.
When everything is falling apart,
You will be safe in His arms
Did you know that the voice that brings the dead to life,
Is the very same voice that calls you now to rise?
So hear Him now, He's calling you home.
You will never be alone.
These are the hands that built the mountains,
the hands that calm the seas.
These are the arms that hold the heavens,
they are holding you and me.
These are hands that healed the leper,
Pulled the lame up to their feet,
These are the arms that were nailed to a cross,
to break our chains and set us free."
This morning I walked into my classroom and pulled up some music that a friend recently gave me. I opened up the artist, and randomly selected a song I thought I had never heard. As the music started playing, I started crying. They were words that I desperately needed to hear today...
I don't think following Jesus is safe...at all. In fact, I think it is in all worldly thinking the most dangerous thing one can do. And there are days when my heart fights against the surrender to which I know Christ has called me. It's unsafe. It's scary. It's uncomfortable. And yet I know... the day I met Christ is the day He started redefining my definition of "safe." Safe means I trust Him. Safe means I believe there is One who can work anything for my good. Safe means I go where He wants me to go and do what He wants me to do because I reverently adore and fear Him. Safe means a broken heart...because to love anyone this side of heaven means hurt. Safe means surrender.
And this morning, as the words to this song confronted me with the struggle deep within, I could feel that tugging on my heart. He will be with me. When my world is in utter chaos, my future uncertain, my heart torn, I am still safe. Not because I will choose to stop loving people that I know I may have to leave, or because I will choose to shut off my heart to what God may be doing that feels anything but safe...but because He is with me.
And I am in His hands.
Para sempre.
Always.
Monday, October 10, 2011
Moving on up...
Tonight I went to language class. Sometimes, when I am tired or frustrated, language class makes me cry. Actually, to be correct, no tears have actually fallen. But they have come awfully close.
The new class I am taking started off to be a big disappointment to me. I was clearly behind everyone.
Enter two men from Guinea-Bissau.
From the moment they opened their mouths and slaughtered the Portuguese language, I knew things were looking up for me. The professor started slowing down and methodically sounding out new words. I was excited to have some companions on the lower level.
Then, an unexpected change. Four new Pakistani men walked into the room knowing little to no Portuguese.
Suddenly I have moved to the high-level. :)
And can I just say, nothing feels weirder than sitting in the midst of four Pakistani men and communicating with them in English about how to speak and say Portuguese words.
Which then made me wonder, what on earth are they thinking? American WOMAN telling them how to pronounce Portuguese words. And to make it worse, the professor kept using me as the example for America. "Ela é americana. Os americanos, como Erin..."
That was the only time in my life I wished I was Canadian.
My life is so weird.
The new class I am taking started off to be a big disappointment to me. I was clearly behind everyone.
Enter two men from Guinea-Bissau.
From the moment they opened their mouths and slaughtered the Portuguese language, I knew things were looking up for me. The professor started slowing down and methodically sounding out new words. I was excited to have some companions on the lower level.
Then, an unexpected change. Four new Pakistani men walked into the room knowing little to no Portuguese.
Suddenly I have moved to the high-level. :)
And can I just say, nothing feels weirder than sitting in the midst of four Pakistani men and communicating with them in English about how to speak and say Portuguese words.
Which then made me wonder, what on earth are they thinking? American WOMAN telling them how to pronounce Portuguese words. And to make it worse, the professor kept using me as the example for America. "Ela é americana. Os americanos, como Erin..."
That was the only time in my life I wished I was Canadian.
My life is so weird.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
"Looks...interesting."
Today I brought treats to church.
I was excited, because I knew it was something I could do.
Then, I walked in with my treats.
I brought mini chocolate chip banana muffins and miniature chocolate chip scones.
And as I walked in with my treats, I got questions.
"Wow. What is that?"
"Looks good. What are they?"
"So are these cookies?"
"Huh. Did you make them?"
"So...are they cakes?"
"Banana what?"
"Sconesh? What are those?"
And I simply smiled.
Because moments like this make me laugh on the inside. Who would have thought my treats would be unrecognizable to half the congregation?
All in all... I think people liked them.
But next time...I may do some research before I bring something else to church.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I'll just research how to explain what it is that I make next time.
I was excited, because I knew it was something I could do.
Then, I walked in with my treats.
I brought mini chocolate chip banana muffins and miniature chocolate chip scones.
And as I walked in with my treats, I got questions.
"Wow. What is that?"
"Looks good. What are they?"
"So are these cookies?"
"Huh. Did you make them?"
"So...are they cakes?"
"Banana what?"
"Sconesh? What are those?"
And I simply smiled.
Because moments like this make me laugh on the inside. Who would have thought my treats would be unrecognizable to half the congregation?
All in all... I think people liked them.
But next time...I may do some research before I bring something else to church.
Or maybe not.
Maybe I'll just research how to explain what it is that I make next time.
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Tired, tired, tired...
I am absolutely exhausted. And it is only October. :)
My schedule feels crazy and my weekends seem almost nonexistent.
But can I be honest?
That's the way I want to go out. I want to spend and be spent. I want to look back on these two years and know that I was a steward of every dollar someone sacrificed for me to be here. I want to finish my time here knowing I was faithful... I don't want regrets.
Because looking back over the past few years of my life after college...I have many. I regret not volunteering my Saturdays at Bethel Mission like I had every good intention of doing. I regret wandering around countless malls feeding an insatiable hunger to accumulate more. I regret spending hundreds of dollars on food and coffee when missionaries around me were trying to raise more support.
I have such a little bit of life left, in all honesty. And that's if I live to be the average age...which is certainly not a guarantee. And I just want to use it up...I want to finish dirty, tired, exhausted, and spent.
One of the guys from my church told me a story about a missionary he met on a missions trip to Mozambique. Even though I've never met her...her story bothers me. She left her home country to be a missionary working with the least of these: orphans in Africa. She lives on very little, and every night brings home around 15 children to sleep in her room because there is no more space for them in the orphanage. But what struck me more than anything else was when he said, "She looked exhausted. And she had no teeth...she just looked so old..."
And it hit me then...
That is beauty. True, pure, unadulterated, magnificent, radiant beauty.
And I want that.
Sometimes I wonder about myself. Have I become comfortable here?
Because my days are numbered. And I want to be sure they are spent well...in the place the Master wants me.
Dear Lord... Don't let me get comfortable.
Don't let me choose something because it is easy...and I know I can handle it.
Stretch me. Challenge me. So I know it is you alone that is doing the work.
And Lord... Make me beautiful in your eyes...with or without teeth.
And at the end of my life, let me be found faithful.
My schedule feels crazy and my weekends seem almost nonexistent.
But can I be honest?
That's the way I want to go out. I want to spend and be spent. I want to look back on these two years and know that I was a steward of every dollar someone sacrificed for me to be here. I want to finish my time here knowing I was faithful... I don't want regrets.
Because looking back over the past few years of my life after college...I have many. I regret not volunteering my Saturdays at Bethel Mission like I had every good intention of doing. I regret wandering around countless malls feeding an insatiable hunger to accumulate more. I regret spending hundreds of dollars on food and coffee when missionaries around me were trying to raise more support.
I have such a little bit of life left, in all honesty. And that's if I live to be the average age...which is certainly not a guarantee. And I just want to use it up...I want to finish dirty, tired, exhausted, and spent.
One of the guys from my church told me a story about a missionary he met on a missions trip to Mozambique. Even though I've never met her...her story bothers me. She left her home country to be a missionary working with the least of these: orphans in Africa. She lives on very little, and every night brings home around 15 children to sleep in her room because there is no more space for them in the orphanage. But what struck me more than anything else was when he said, "She looked exhausted. And she had no teeth...she just looked so old..."
And it hit me then...
That is beauty. True, pure, unadulterated, magnificent, radiant beauty.
And I want that.
Sometimes I wonder about myself. Have I become comfortable here?
Because my days are numbered. And I want to be sure they are spent well...in the place the Master wants me.
Dear Lord... Don't let me get comfortable.
Don't let me choose something because it is easy...and I know I can handle it.
Stretch me. Challenge me. So I know it is you alone that is doing the work.
And Lord... Make me beautiful in your eyes...with or without teeth.
And at the end of my life, let me be found faithful.
Friday, October 7, 2011
Great Expectations...
I've been having such a hard time blogging lately. Everything around in my head feels like too much to try to write...too personal...or just too unresolved. There are so many things I feel like I am wrestling through...
And in the midst of all this...God has brought up such deep, deep things.
Things I feel like I at one point in my life had figured out...but now seem more confusing than ever.
So here it is...
One of the scariest parts of missions to me is singleness. Not necessarily that I will be single the rest of my life if I head towards missions, but that people won't understand if I do marry after heading in the direction of missions. And that is not something I know if I am ready to accept. Honestly, I know I could serve God anywhere...I also know if I am single, I would choose that to be overseas... but if, and IF is huge here, IF God brought the type of man I have prayed for, and he was just living and serving in the States, that wouldn't bother me. I would serve alongside him there.
Yet I feel like that answer would not be acceptable to anyone. And that scares me.
But what I don't understand is why? God moves people at different points in different directions. Why would it be "life" for the single missionary, yet acceptable for any person actively involved in serving in the States to marry whomever and change ministries as a result? I just don't know if I get it... and I don't know that I am ready for the fish tank lifestyle that I know will come with this...
I love Portugal, and I love my life here. But I've also prayed to be a wife and mom. And for whatever reason...God hasn't brought the two together...or, for that matter, given me complete peace about either. So here I am, for probably the millionth time in my life, trying to figure out how to once again give God complete control and hand over to Him the dreams that I have in exchange for what He says is best for me. And I am trying desperately to hear His voice above all others, including my own.
I just feel like I can't get past this...and I don't know the answer.
And in the midst of all this...God has brought up such deep, deep things.
Things I feel like I at one point in my life had figured out...but now seem more confusing than ever.
So here it is...
One of the scariest parts of missions to me is singleness. Not necessarily that I will be single the rest of my life if I head towards missions, but that people won't understand if I do marry after heading in the direction of missions. And that is not something I know if I am ready to accept. Honestly, I know I could serve God anywhere...I also know if I am single, I would choose that to be overseas... but if, and IF is huge here, IF God brought the type of man I have prayed for, and he was just living and serving in the States, that wouldn't bother me. I would serve alongside him there.
Yet I feel like that answer would not be acceptable to anyone. And that scares me.
But what I don't understand is why? God moves people at different points in different directions. Why would it be "life" for the single missionary, yet acceptable for any person actively involved in serving in the States to marry whomever and change ministries as a result? I just don't know if I get it... and I don't know that I am ready for the fish tank lifestyle that I know will come with this...
I love Portugal, and I love my life here. But I've also prayed to be a wife and mom. And for whatever reason...God hasn't brought the two together...or, for that matter, given me complete peace about either. So here I am, for probably the millionth time in my life, trying to figure out how to once again give God complete control and hand over to Him the dreams that I have in exchange for what He says is best for me. And I am trying desperately to hear His voice above all others, including my own.
I just feel like I can't get past this...and I don't know the answer.
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