Learning to Trust in the Hardest Moments

I've debated on how to share this.  Started numerous posts but never finished them. It's been three months since I posted last, and more has happened during those months than ever before.

As some of you may know, and some of you I'm sure don't know, in the middle of October I was diagnosed with cancer.  Colon cancer.  I had some irregular bleeding and went to the doctor to get it checked out.  After a few doctor's visits, I went in for a colonoscopy during which the doctor found a large polyp.  He decided to do the procedure the following day to remove it.  For the first time in my life I spent the night in the hospital, and I was alone, in a foreign country, understanding little of the language around me.  The next day, I spent most of the day alone as most of my friends had to teach during the day.  I knew I could have called other friends and they would have rushed to be by my side.  But for some reason I didn't.  It was probably the hardest day.  But on that day, I realized how God can fill a void completely.  If someone had been sitting with me, talking to me, listening to me,  I would not have sat with my Father, listened to Him, shared with Him.  So what started out as a tearful night alone turned into a powerful testimony of God's peace and presence.

The procedure went without complications and I spent another day in the hospital recovering and then had to take a few days off of work to stay home and heal.  The polyp was sent to the pathologists who did the biopsy to determine whether the tumor was malignant or benign. The days waiting for the results were excruciating.  I spent hours each day in God's Word and in prayer, seeking His peace and His comfort.  And He provided it in an abundance I never would have dreamed of.  At any moment through those days, the doubts and fears and anxiety would begin to fill my mind. But I was able to turn right back to the Word and remember God's promise to never leave or forsake me.

When I finally got word that the results were finished, I went in to get the results, only to find out they were inconclusive and more testing had to be done.  So I waited some more.  The community around me was wonderful.  My friends made sure I was never alone if I didn't want to be.  My co-workers sent me notes of encouragement.  My life group was a constant prayer support.  People I hardly knew were praying for me and offering their homes to me.  So even though my family was a world away, God had provided an amazing group of people to pull me through.

On October 31, the results finally came back, and the tumor was malignant.  But my two doctors differed on their interpretation of the pathologist's results.  Not a comforting feeling when your life is at stake.  Was all of the cancer removed?  Is there a possibility that it had spread already?  Do I need to have additional treatments?  The questions came like an avalanche.  But once again, God provided.  An administrator at the school has a friend who is a well-respected Singaporean cancer specialist.  He happened to be in Jakarta, at my hospital, and she got me an appointment.

After explaining to him my situation and having him look at the pathologist's reports, he offered to take my polyp back with him to Singapore and have his friend take a look at it.  In a few days, I got a call from the nurse.

The results were finished.  And the cancer was contained only in the outer layers of the polyp.  It would not have spread.

I am cancer free.

Cancer is a scary word.  Living with cancer is a scary thought.  But God's timing is perfect.  It's a blessing that they caught the cancer early.  That I am in a situation where the entire process, from the initial doctor's visit until I got the final cancer-free result, only took about five weeks.  I had the cancer removed before I even knew I had cancer.

It honestly feels like a dream now.  I haven't been to the doctor since.  My life goes on as normal.  I signed on for another year at SPH.  I continue to take unbelievable extravagant vacations.  My parents came to visit.  And through all of this, I have to remind myself, I had cancer.  I am a cancer survivor.  I wonder what the point of this was.  It taught me a lot, yes.  But I'm holding on to the hope that God has an eternal purpose for my short battle.  That He will use my experience, however short, to further His Kingdom.

One verse, one verse of the hundreds that spoke to me during this time, was Romans 12:12.

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, fervent in prayer.

Bittersweet Comfort

Coming back to Indonesia has been wonderful.  And so much about coming back has been so comfortable.  I stepped back into a life that I love, that I was already familiar with.  A life that is comfortable.

But comfort, I've learned in the last couple weeks, is not always ideal.  We are called to step out of comfort, and into a realm where God directs each step and puts us into situations that are unknown and uncomfortable.

Some things that are my comfort, that I'm learning to let go of:

Pampering... the massages, pedicures, manicures, movies in recliners, cream baths
My class from last year... that I loved with all my heart, that I now have to watch from afar
My friend group... to allow for developing new relationships with people from Life Group and others who I didn't talk with much last year
And probably the hardest, travel... recognizing that travel has, in a sense, become my idol

God's been speaking, and asking me to remember who I am living for.  Who I am here for.  Am I here to take advantage of the cheep pampering and entertainment?  Am I here to make friends with my former students?  Am I here to become besties with the same group of girls I hung out with a lot last year?  Am I here to use my paycheck to see the world?

While these are all such blessings that God has given me, I realized I've been relying on the blessings to give me peace and comfort.  A co-worker gave a devotion last week, calling us to step out of our boats and into the waves, and I knew that I needed to do just that.

It all came to a head last Thursday night during a late night encounter with God.  After days of non-stop pushing from within, I knew I had to make some changes in my priorities.  I sat on my bedroom floor, and God called out to me.  I was expecting another lecture on how my priorities are all out of line.

But instead, He just had me sit in His presence.  Scratch that.  He didn't JUST have me sit... He invited me into the comfort that comes from His embrace.  He invited me to return continually to the joy that comes from intimate moments with Him, when the world is screaming all around me and when the worries inside are building up.

It dawned on me there, that the only times that I had really felt peace and joy in the last week, were when I was meditating on His Word, when I was allowing it to renew my mind and fill it with things above. As this dawned on me and I was fully ready to surrender it all to Him, God, who is slow to anger and rich in unfailing love, faithfulness, and mercy, gave me the desires of my heart.

So now, as I travel, as I occasionally make a trip to the salon, as I spend time with my friends, and as I interact with my old students, I recognize that these comforts are really second to a life lived in continual interaction with the Father.  The only place I want to be truly comfortable is when He is calling me out of my comfort zone.

So Lord, give me courage to step out.  Give me strength to do as You ask.  Give me the discernment to distinguish Your voice.  Pour out Your peace and joy as I continue on this faith journey.  Thank you for being a Father who, with more patience and grace than I could ever deserve, is willing to put up with all my crap, as I try to figure out how to live for You.

The Lord Gives

While I was back in the States, I got to share about many of my adventures from the last year, both the crazy vacations as well as the dream school I teach at.  Back in Indonesia, I am repeatedly reminded of all the Lord has given me.

I walked into my apartment on my first night back and was greeted by a group of girls who had made my living room floor their slumber party bed.  Rounds of hugs, stories of the summer, and a really dumb movie were the perfect welcome home.  I love these women, and am so blessed to have such a wonderful community.

A few days after arriving in Indonesia, a few girls and I booked last minute plane tickets, hotel rooms, and diving school for a holiday... you'll see photos from that soon enough.  I got to see God's creativity 18 meters below the surface of the ocean.  I got to soak up the vitamin D and get a nice tan.  I got to meet new friends from around the world.

I remember leaving vacation and holiday times dreading to go back to real life.  But as we got ready to leave the island, I was actually thrilled to be getting back to real life! 

The real life God has given me has been more than I would have ever thought of.  I will be returning to a school with a staff that loves the Lord, students who are eager to learn, and co-teachers that are my better half.  

This weekend I spent my time doing karaoke (my favorite Asian pastime), running around Jakarta's amusement park, and going to church.  Probably my biggest praise, the most valuable thing God's given me right now is a place to finally call my own.  After a year of looking and having my church family back in the States praying for me, I've found a place to call my church family.  My first Sunday back, He confirmed it that IES (International English Service) will be my church home.  I walked in, very early since our taxi driver was a speed demon, and stopped for some Starbucks.  The pastor was right ahead of me, and he offered to buy our coffee.  One of my biggest criticisms of the larger churches is not being able to know the pastor, but He assured me that even with the size of the church, this pastor cares, and I can learn from him and talk with him.  Worship was fabulous.  The message was good, and include lots of Scripture... probably the thing I was looking for most.

The Lord gives.  He gives, and gives, and gives.  He loves to pour out blessings, and I feel so honored to be the recipient of these blessings right now.

I started this blog post last Sunday afternoon.  Monday afternoon while I was at school getting ready for my first day, I got a text from my mom.  One of the teens from my home church died in a car accident just hours before.  My heart broke as my knees gave out.  I looked around my classroom, saw my co-worker walking towards my classroom and a student approaching to find his desk.  All I wanted to do was sit, in shock.  But I had to quickly move on to prepare for the first day of school.

The first days of school were fabulous, and always intertwined with prayers for home.  As I got word of the details of the crash, the prayer vigil, the calling hours, and the funeral, my heart continued to lift up this family.  My biggest prayer was that God would use this awful situation and do some mighty work.  That He would provide the strength for the family and friends that ultimately point others to the  Healer and Provider.

I couldn't post my blog.  The Lord has given to me.  Given and given and given.  But for my friends, He has taken away.  The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

And as the weeks events came to an end, I got to talk with my mom.  And she shared with me how my prayer was answered. God was present in every moment, showing Himself and His love and grace.  The stories she told me screamed that God was glorified, and that everyone was able to experience His healing power.

Even when the Lord takes away, He is still giving.

Always giving.  And I am so blessed to witness all He does for His children.

Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

Life in a Bubble

Today we had assembly for all of Junior School.  Each grade takes a turn leading one of the assemblies through the year. 

Today's worship included a few songs I know quite well, "God of this City" (Christ Tomlin), "City on Our Knees" (Toby Mac), and "Send Me Out" (Fee).  These songs really caused me to pause, worship, and reflect, in the midst of my day and surrounded by hundreds of children.  You've probably heard them, but listen again, and you'll get an idea of what started my thinking today.

What am I doing here, for my city?

I sang all three of these songs countless times at church services while in college.  I sat in student chapel and church hearing the message of "You're here, now.  So minister, here now.  Don't wait until you're there, later."  So I sought out ways to work in Marion, Indiana.  I went into the public schools to tutor.  I volunteered at the Boys and Girls Club teaching Bible lessons and hanging out with the kids.  I went on prayer walks.  I served my church by joining the leadership team.  All to be involved in my community.

And I thrived.  I was exhausted a lot, yes.  But it was the tiredness of a life well lived.

What am I doing here, for my city?

I am currently in the "there, later" phase that I imagined while I was in college.  The world of flooding and overflowing garbage dumps and sheet-metal houses and mal-nourished children.  All of which are similar problems to what I saw in Marion.

At IWU, we talked about the IWU bubble.  And I worked hard to make sure that I didn't stay in my bubble full of white, middle-class, college students getting a good education at a pricy, private college.  While across the street sat houses in foreclosure, kids who ate one meal a day (the free one at school), and prostitutes who worked out of their homes while their kids played down the street. 

If I thought coming to Indonesia got me out of the bubble, I was wrong.  SPH has our own little bubble, and it's not all that different from my IWU bubble.  The teachers aren't all white.  But who do I mostly hang out with?  Sadly, I'd rather not answer that.  All the teachers we'd consider middle-class.  But to the world on the other side of the fence, we're living the high life.  My students' parents pay huge bucks to send them to this pricy, private, Christian school where they get an education that is far beyond any education they could receive in a national school here. 

Apart from my ojek ride to school, greetings to all the guards and gardeners at my apartment and school, and trip to the shopping mall a few times a week, my interactions outside of my bubble are minimal. 

What am I doing here, for my city?

I'm stuck in a bubble.  My bubble where I am comfortable, can speak my own language, and know what to expect. 

What can I do to change?  I'm helping with the Senior School's 30 Hour Famine this weekend.  They're supporting organizations in Jakarta.  So that's one thing.  Maybe what I need is a trip to the orphanage.  A trip to the flood victims.  A game of soccer in the kampung. 

Lord, open my eyes to the city around me.  The city beyond the polished walls of the school.  The city beyond my air-conditioned apartment. The city that cannot afford anything in the mall.  Give me courage to step out and minister to them.  Give me the strength.  Give me the same passion I had at IWU to get out of this bubble and into the city You've given me.  Let me be exhausted from being Your hands and feet in the city.

"Greater things are yet to come, and greater things are still to become in this city."

Moments like these

It's Thursday afternoon around 4:30.  I'm marking my stack of papers, reading all about how my kids celebrate their holidays.  I have on an acoustic playlist of pop songs. 

The song that came on a few minutes ago was Taio Cruz's Dynamite.  This song immediately took me back to my sophomore year of college.  The year that was filled with the craziest laughs on my dorm unit and freakin awesome dance parties in the middle of the night.  I decided to take a walk down memory lane, so I logged onto Facebook and flipped through my albums from that year.  I saw photos like these, that remind me of those cherished moments from that high-energy year, where I really solidified some wonderful friendships.

Camping for Weekend Music Festival

Fancy evenings and dinners on campus

Christmas trip to light festival

Pillow Talk late at night

Dances and parties

Roadtrips

Then I went back to freshman year of college, when I first met so many of the wonderful friends I would keep for years.

Cartilage Piercing

And I started to have a breakdown moment.  All these times with these wonderful ladies built so many memories during the four years with them.  The same girls I threw leaves with in the park freshman year are the ones I threw my cap with at graduation.  I was so blessed to be with these ladies.

And now I live in Indonesia... thousands of miles away from most of them.  Janna is close, only a couple hour taxi ride across the city, and I am so blessed to have come here with her to continue our adventures together.  But it's so hard, looking back at these pictures.  Knowing that these times, what a lot of people say is the best time of your life, are now past.  

And as I follow friends on Facebook, and see how they still get together with their college friends, and see how they continue to celebrate birthdays together and go to concerts and stand as bridesmaids in all the weddings, my heart longs to be back in America where I can continue having adventures with the girls.

But as I was lamenting my college experience, I ended up clicking through photos of me from recently.  And I found some reminders of other amazing memories.  New memories.  New people.  New places,  New adventures.  All just as wonderful.  They're nothing that special, just normal life.  But I realized as I looked through them, how much God has continued to bless me with a wonderful group of friends.  And He's given me a chance to make some awesome memories, just by living normal life: Christmas party, trip to Bali (yes I realize I just assumed a trip to Bali is normal... but at less than a domestic US flight... we make it happen), teaching ourselves to play ukulele, a birthday dinner, soccer carnival, or simply going into work on a weekend.

 

Thank you Lord for your continued blessing in my life.  I know I haven't done anything to deserve this crazy life You've given me, not the life in college, nor the life in Indonesia.  But I want to take each moment and make the most of it, knowing that each of these good and perfect gifts is from You.

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.

Karaoke... on a school night!? 

My better half, my partner teacher who has been my saving grace this year, Ibu Ida

One precious girl who always reminds me to have the faith of a child

Parents who send western snacks to the teachers

The mail system.  Yes, it takes more than a month, but my kids help me celebrate packages from home

I get to help kids find books that they love.  I love that part of my job.  

Chinese New Year goodies

A representation of Indo phonics?  No... the way he wrote my name when I spelled it for him letter by letter. 

Sri Lanka: Blue Skies and Hospitality

Our week-long fall break this year took me to Sri Lanka.  I had a friend in high school who was from Sri Lanka, and I had seen her pictures, eaten her delicious food, and experienced her genuine friendliness.  So when one of the other teachers invited me to come along, I of course said yes!

Janna and I booked our tickets for Sri Lanka before we even left the States, so this was really a surreal experience when we finally got there.  

Getting there was an adventure.  Our flight to Colombo (the capital of Sri Lanka) flew out of Singapore, which we were very excited for, so that we could enjoy a few Western comforts on our way through.  But the only flight we could get to Singapore gave us about an hour in Singapore airport... and in that time we would have to get through customs, immigration, check in again, and then get through security... wonderful.  On the taxi to the airport in Jakarta, we were talking about our plan of action, when we realized that Jon and Lauren's tickets to Sri Lanka were a later flight, so they wouldn't have to rush.  How our flight managed to get changed, I have no idea, but I'm blaming it on KAYAK.  

Our flight got into Singapore on time, but sitting in the back of the plane, we didn't get off very quickly.  I've always wondered about the people who run through airports, and I finally realized what they feel like.  We got to the check in counter, and they had closed check in... so no flight for us!  We asked about the later flight that Jon and Lauren were on, and that was completely booked.  When we checked online to see about finding more tickets, the only seats available on any airline were thousand dollar business class seats.  

In our frustration, Janna looked at me and asked to pray.  She asked God to show His power.  Asked Him to really do something awesome.  In my head, I doubted.  I didn't think that God would actually do something to get us on.  I was trusting in chance.  

We decided to have a seat in the coffee shop, treat ourselves to a taste of fall--pumpkin spice lates. And believe me, that totally made up for the missed flight.  We decided to go on standby for the flight Lauren and Jon were on.  So all morning we waited.  Into the afternoon we waited.  And we got two tickets for the flight!

We get through security, make it to the gate, meet up with Jon and Lauren.  We checked our tickets to see where we were sitting.  Janna and I had the pair of seats right behind Jon and Lauren.  And that, my friends, is God using His power to pour out little blessings on His children, just because they have faith that He can.

We made it to Sri Lanka, met our driver, and started in on the best trip I have ever been on.  Seriously, the next few blog posts that I share with you are a glimpse into the best week I've ever had, at least in recent memory.  I hope you enjoy the pictures as much as I enjoyed the actual trip... though I don't think that's possible.  So you'll just have to take a trip to Sri Lanka yourselves.  

The first night we stayed in Negumbo, a coastal city a little north of Colombo.  Our hotel was a short distance from the beach, so we were able to watch this beautiful sunset over the ocean.  Such a wonderful first night.  

The next morning, our driver, Presanne (more about him later), took us around the city to see some sights.  The beach, Hindu temples, a harbor, fisher's market, colonial church, and old jail.  It was fascinating to hear a little about the culture and history of the country.

Colors.  Amazing vibrant colors.

Keeping the offerings looking beautiful

One of the best things about Sri Lanka, we realized quickly, is the abundance of blue sky.  Everywhere. In Jakarta, we get haze.  We're lucky if we can make out a cloud formation.  But here, so many beautiful shades of blue and big fluffy clouds.

Hiring a driver can be kind of expensive.  But when you see the public transportation, you realize how blessed you are to have a personal driver.  Here is a bus.  We affectionately  named them Crazy Buses.  The Crazy Buses were everywhere.  In the city they were crazy.  In the country they were crazy. Flying around the curves in the mountains, they would end up on two wheels, almost hitting multiple cars as they passed others.  I will never, EVER, get on a Crazy Bus.  I will walk... though if there are Crazy Buses around, I don't even know how much safer that would be.

On our way out of Negombo, we traveled through the plains, full of fruit farms.  This being said, there were countless little shops along the way selling the delicious fruit.  We stopped at one and had ourselves some fresh coconut, mango, and wood apple (which I was NOT a fan of).  The rest of it, delicious!

We were on our way to a safari at a national park, but had a few hours to kill.  So Presanne took us to a friend of his sister's friend... so something along those lines.  There's a lake a short distance from the house, and Presanne suggested we go "bathing."  Ummmmm... But realizing that they all speak Australian English, we figured this bathing meant swimming... at least we hoped.  So we changed in the reeds along the edge of the lake and took a dip in the lake.  

Partway through our time at the lake, this woman graced us with her presence, taking a bath and washing her sarong.  Ladies and gentle men, traditional Sri Lankan life. 

After swimming, the family invited us in to eat.  We were just expecting to try one vegetable that we had talked about earlier, but found ourselves with a table full of home made Sri Lankan food.  It was delicious!  

What was even more special was the hospitality we experienced.  This family didn't know us at all.  But they allowe us to swim.  They invited us into their home, which the husband has been building for the last 17 years.  They prepared a huge meal for us.  It was such a beautiful experience, one that I use when someone asks me what my favorite part of the trip was.  There were no other tourists, hefty entrance fees, hawkers trying to sell handicrafts, or overpriced curry.  Just a family who wanted to make a few American travelers feel welcome in their country and in their home.

A special thanks to Jon and Janna and Lauren for their fantastic photo skills on this trip. It would not be as well photographed without them.

A Week Full of Blessings

Two days ago, I realized I have been in Indonesia for one month.  In a way it seems like an eternity since I've been here, but it also seems like I was back in the States yesterday.  I want to give you a glimpse into my week, tell you some crazy awesome stories about how God is pouring out His blessings in my life.

Sunday, August 19 was Indonesia's Independence Day.  I had sort-of forgotten, until I walked into the housewares store in the mall (a cross between IKEA and Bed, Bath, and Beyond) and instead of playing Carly Rae Jepsen and FUN covers, they were playing big band patriotic music.  I felt pretty unpatriotic since I was doing normal life on such a big day.  I felt like I should be at a picnic or something... but nothing for me, the new expat, still trying to get settled.

But on Monday, I did get to be a part of a celebration!  The school was all decked out in red and white banners for the day.  All the kids and staff wore red shirts and white bottoms.  The moms brought in a huge layout of traditional Indonesian snacks.  But before we could let lose and party, we got to sit stand through a flag ceremony, for a half hour.  Thirty minutes of watching the guards march across the gym and raise the flag and salute the master of ceremonies.  And we had to stand at attention--arms at our sides, hands in fists.  Ouch!  But my class was amazing!  We all moved a little bit... because let's face it, thirty minutes is hard for me to do!  But I was so proud of my kids.

It was cool to see another country's celebration.  To see the pomp and circumstance of an event as important as the 68th year of independence from Dutch rule.  The pride they have in their country, the way they honor their flag, the way they proudly sing the national anthems.  Merdeka! Freedom!  

Here's the national anthem:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rc2dG7uMlhA

My favorite song that we sang was this one:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L82Iw-9Kb2c

I'm actually pretty good with it now... though I don't know what all of the words mean, but I know the general idea of the song!

Once the ceremony was over, we got to have our delicious snacks (according to them... I'm not a huge fan of most of the snacks I've tried so far).  And we went out for our competitions!  The school is divided into house teams, and each student is put on one of four teams, each named after a different volcano in Indonesia.  I have yet to find out my actual team, but I look forward to being part of the friendly competition through the years here.  

At the closing ceremony (nothing like the flag ceremony), the new teacher (me!) got to participate in a traditional Indonesian game.  I'm not sure what it is called, but we get to eat fishy-tasting puff crackers from the hanging string. Sound fun?  Well, the part where your class is screaming your name is fun, the part about eating the fishy-puff... not so much.

The rest of the week went well too.  It's been awesome getting into the swing of things.  Nailing down procedures, trying to remember to go to specials, and actually getting into some content.

I had a few conversations with some women here that have been really encouraging.  As I try to make friends, understand and teach a new curriculum, not completely stick out in the culture, and find a church home, I've started to miss what I had at home.  And I long for the days when I can really call these people friends, teach with confidence, go to the market, and feel at home walking into church.  But what one of the girls said really stuck out to me.  I have to stop wishing for the past or the future.  This awkward time now is just where God wants me.  It will be hard, and it may be lonely, but He will use these times to help me grow.  It's the moments of weakness that we realize that God is our strength.  I know He is going to be the one to get me through the moments where I want to give up.  I'm not at that point of wanting to give up now.  I'm loving my time here.  But I know it will come.  And I hope and pray (and ask you to pray with me) that God will remind me that it's through His strength that I will get through the next months (and years).  I also have to remember that it's His strength that is getting me through these good times.  He is blessing me in countless ways, blessing me with things I don't deserve!  His plan has been perfect, and I am so grateful to live out His call for my life.

I can already see God working in amazing ways.  The wonderful thing about SPH is that Christ is really in the center of everything.  And everything else gets pushed aside to make time for Him.  Being trained in a high-stakes testing country where we have to spend X-amount of time every day and make sure our kids meet such-and-such by a certain date, the ability to push back English class to talk about Christ is crazy!  I had some extra time on Friday because of a welcome assembly we were having.  So our fifteen minute morning devotions were stretched into hour-long devotions.  Not aware that I would even have to do any devos, I opened up my Bible to a verse we had mentioned in Bible the day before... Luke 12, about treasure in Heaven. This discussion was great, as they discussed how to make God's Word our treasure.  But the best was yet to come.

I played a song for the kids that we would be singing in assembly later in the day: Remind Me Who I Am.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSIVjjY8Ou8

They started asking questions about the words that were on the cardboard pieces, such as refugee.  We talked about what it means, referring to the word discrimination we had learned during class the day before.  And I talked about some new friends at church who are refugees who left because they are persecuted.  And I told them about a good friend who moved to a creative-access country to minister to the people there.  They were amazed that some people have no idea who God is, let alone that He loves them.  When they realized all that persecution entails, they asked to pray for my friend.  The prayer of a child, the faith they have that God will provide and that God will protect.  The desire they have to see others hear about God's love.  It's humbling to me.  How often do I forget to stop and pray when I remember those who are risking their lives?  

Lord, help me remember all that you have blessed me with in this moment.  Help me remember those who are blessed because they are persecuted.  Help me to remember to have the faith of a child.  If we ask anything in Your name, You are ready to pour out your grace on Your children.