Carrying Joy, Finding Adventure: One Month

One month ago today I got back from spending Christmas in Australia. I've spend a few holidays away from home. Easter with friends in college for a spring break, which was very fun. Thanksgiving in Thailand since I was student teaching in China which was not as hard as I was expecting. My birthday in Bosnia during an internship one summer which was actually quite difficult. So I wasn't sure what to expect from my first Christmas away from home. The fact I was going to Australia made it much easier, and I wasn't longing for home during the trip. I got to feed kangaroos, drive along the Great Ocean road, drink flat whites in Melbourne while browsing used bookstores, watch the New Year fireworks over the Sydney Opera House, and climb the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I kept myself busy enough that I didn't long for home.

I also had not had a moment of culture shock. I've heard many stories of those who hit their two month mark living in another country and have a huge shock. They hate everything new. They long for everything familiar. I waited and waited for this moment, but did not come across it during the fall.

Though, re-entering the western world of clean bathrooms, drinkable tap water, sidewalks, blue skies, English, Target, following traffic laws, and cops we can trust was too good to pass up, even though I was loving Indonesia. My fear was that returning to my dirty city after two weeks back in "normalcy" would cause me to hate everything.

But in fact, it was quite the opposite. I got off the plane in Kuala Lampur and immediately hit a mass of pushing people in inefficient lines and security. Kitchens that were not stocked. Language barriers. Airlines that are two and a half hours late. Pools of water in the bathrooms because of the weird sprayer things. But I was glad to be back. I was glad to be back in Asia. The land that some of my co-workers complain about. It felt right. It felt familiar. Asia has become my home.

After moving to America from Thailand when I was 5, I knew I wanted to be a missionary. So the 17 years that the Midwest was home-sweet-home, I longed to get out into the world and make a difference. I dreamed of the day I would go to the market to get my veggies. I would learn another language. I would teach people about Jesus. I would get to visit temples and palaces and see things none of my friends have seen.

So now, I am living my dream. And even as we waited in KL for our late plane, I was at peace, knowing that God has brought me to the place He wants me, which also happens to be the place that I've longed to be my whole life.

Although I felt like I was returning home, home was missing something. The people I have met in Indonesia are amazing. They've become good friends, co-workers, and confidants. But they're not part of the home that I was used to returning to.

I longed for my mom's hugs. To watch a cop-show with my dad. To sit on the glider on my grandparent's sun porch. To listen to my uncles talk about the Steelers. To drive four hours and return to IWU where I would walk into an apartment to see ladies I've been friends with for years. To smell my mom's cooking as I walked in the door. To trade clothes with Lyndsay to make the perfect outfit. To make eye contact with Lyndsay and roll our eyes as dad makes a stupid joke. To spend the day with my best friend going to church and Sunday school and brunch and a nap and more church and McConn for a cup of coffee to get me though the last of my homework.

But instead I had to go and teach 17 precious children and forget about myself and pour myself into whatever they need. So in the evenings I would FaceTime home, talk for hours, and then hang up and cry myself to sleep. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home.

But God has brought me to Indonesia and has given me a love for the good and the bad. Psalm 40 says God will lift me out of the slimy pit, set me on a rock, and put a new song in my heart, a hymn of praise to Him. And after a couple weeks in the pits, I have been placed on a rock.

I hear the birds sing. I sometimes feel the sun on my face. I pick up on all my students' funny stories and one-liners that teachers treasure. I find myself falling in love with my class, more than I was before. I smile. I can't help it. God has blessed me so much. He has given me a job and co-workers and students and a home that I love. And I enjoy it.

Yes, I still have my hard moments. I still lay in bed pushing the snooze button, wishing that I could get a snow-day like all my teacher-friends back home. I find little things frustrating, like how it's okay to be on your phone at work when you should be checking IDs at the airport check in. Or how I have no hot water in my kitchen sink. Or how it's rainy season and rains all the time, especially during the times I want to go to school or back home.

But I am here. And I am joyful.

Thanks to those of you who read this. Thanks for those of you who are praying for me. Pray that God continues to help me see the amazing little things that He's doing. Pray that I am able to learn more of the language so that I can better talk with the people in my community. Pray that I don't get lost in the adventures of traveling that I forget about the here and now.

Here are some pictures of some of the big and little things God has blessed me with that I am thankful for every day.