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.

America

It's a little late, but I want to share a few of my favorite moments while home.  Facebook shows some photos, but here are some stories, and I want to keep these stories close.  My blog tells about all my crazy adventures around the world, but my life in America is also pretty awesome.  So here are some of my favorite moments, the things that make coming back to America such a wonderful time.  So bare with my random phone pictures and instagrams, but they're some of the moments that meant the most... and my camera was not to be found.

My youth pastor for all my high school years moved to Florida to teach Bible at a Christian school.  Last year when they moved, he asked me if I was mad at him like so many others were.  I told him absolutely not.  He did the same exact thing I did... followed God to a dream job in a tropical place... how could I be mad at that! He's doing awesome work there, but I'm so glad the family came up to visit while I was home!!

Last year I met a few girls from college in Chicago.  There, it was a last hoorah before Janna and I moved to Indonesia.  This year, we met in Chicago to eat yummy food, drink wine, and catch up on everyone's new husbands, jobs, and homes.  We got an apartment that overlooked Millennium Park, and it was almost as though we never stopped living together, picking up our relationships right where we left them. I've seen Janna a bit every other weekend while I was in Indonesia, and it was fun to be back with the group where we first became friends.  I'm so grateful for these girls and the blessing they've been in my life.

A trip to Pennsylvania for a family reunion with the extended family, and then a couple days with my grandparents and aunts was so good for my heart.  I love this family so much.  I've been blessed to have such a supportive family as I've gone out into the world.  And I have grandparents that have left me with a fabulous legacy of serving God and loving people.  It's amazing to see them continue in this, more and more every time I see them.  I hope that as I age, I age as well and with as much passion as they have.

Being back in America allowed me to have a life like I always used to have during the summers (during those rare weeks when I was home from camp).  Lots of graduation parties, picnics, and trips to get ice cream.

Evan and Alec.  Evan, who is doing awesome work spreading the Good News in East Asia.  Alec who is doing great at the Air Force Academy, and going to be president some day.  Here we all are, fresh back from our time away!

Beulah Beach, where I spent so many happy weeks as a child and teen. So much spiritual growth from here, and so many friendships developed.

Before I went back to America, people asked me what I was most looking forward to... not the real answer (my amazing family and friends) but materialistic thing.  And it was food.  Bacon. Cheese.  Berries.  Food cooked on a grill.  And oh, did I ever get a ton of berries and grilled picnic food and other American goodness!  I also got a little bit of Asian mixed in, as we had some picnics with Chinese families, and we went out to Chinese and Japanese restaurants on occasion... but it was fabulous having a break from Indo food and the Indo version of American food.

Every year that I remember, we went to Blossom for the Independence Day concert.  This year was no different, and I took my favorite Blossom buddy, Cassundra.  I love this girl so much, and love spending time with her.  Whether bowling, or listening to music, cuddling in the fluffy blanket watching a movie, watching our pretty lame city parade, or just sitting and organizing my room. 

Some of those I was most excited to see was my church family.  And my last week in America was our 5 Day Clubs (VBS).  It's been years since I've helped out (because of camp and Indonesia), but I was able to help out again.  I can't think of a better way to spend my time then with the people I love making a Kingdom difference.  Eight hours a day with some of the people, hanging out with kids and pre-teens, teaching them what it means to follow Jesus. Perfect.

 

We made up a flash mob dance to do with the pre-teens, and at one point, we run around taking fake selfies with everyone.  And, being 21st century pre-teens they all took out their phones and took real selfies.  Of course I wanted to be like those cool pre-teens, so I whipped out my phone for some of my own selfies!

I feel like Dorthy. There's no place like home.  There's no place like home. These people have known me for 5, 10, 18, or 23 years.  And they know me.  Know me better than anyone.  And they love me.  I love them.  And being back with them, for those four short weeks, I felt like I never left. Now, being back in Indonesia as I write this, it's weird to think that I was with them not to long ago.  And it was perfect.  Thanks guys, for taking time out of your crazy summers to spend time with me.  It means the world to me.  I love you all and miss you already.

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."

We Speak to Nations

Our current unit in grade three is studying and celebrating our family histories and looking towards the future.  As I've encouraged my students to reflect on their ancestors, I've also reflected upon mine.  Not just in the genealogy, but in character and mission. 


At the beginning of the unit, I shared a devotion with the kids about my family.  I showed pictures and introduced them to my mom, dad, Lyndsay, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins (both human and dog).  They know many of my extended family members by name after of the stories I've told through the year.  But this devotion focused on one specific aspect of my family. 


Both my parents come from strong Christian families and had parents that raised them to seek after God.  Both my parents felt the pull towards missions, and they lived in Bangkok, Thailand for four years of my early childhood serving in an international church, the International Church of Bangkok.  During that time, my dad's two sisters were also living abroad, one in Gabon, Africa and one in Penang, Malaysia.  He called his mother one Mother's Day while we were in Bangkok and expressed how sorry he was that none of her children were able to spend Mother's Day with her. 

Her response: I'd rather all my children were spread around the world and in the center of God's will than down the street from me and out of God's will.

And because of that attitude, only God knows the number of people that were impacted by the ministry of my grandmother's children. 


We moved back to America when I was five, to Fairlawn, Ohio, where I have called home ever since.  Even though I spent the rest of my childhood in America, we never lost the passion for missions.  My church is part of the Christian and Missionary Alliance, which is a denomination that places a lot of emphasis on spreading the Gospel through missions. 

Every October we would have a mission conference and would hear stories of missionaries around the world, in the jungles of Africa, the coffee shops of Europe, and the skyscrapers of Asia.  And through the years, I too, just like my parents, felt the call to take God's Word to the nations.

And just as my grandparents sent their kids around the world to spread God's Word, so my parents have sent me to the other side of the world.  And now I am able to do exactly what God has for me.  I asked the kids what they think I'll pass on to my children.  And they guessed right... I want to send my children off wherever God wants, even if it hurts to say goodbye. 

Sometimes I have to stop and marvel at the fact that here I am in Indonesia, teaching children about Jesus.  I am a missionary.  I have been called.  I have followed.  And my class can see my life as an example of someone who is going to the ends of the world to teach about Him. 

This is the life I have dreamt of since I was eight years old.

This is the life I have waited for. 

And it is everything I have imagined and more.

One of the songs we sang a lot during the mission conferences as a kid was the song We Speak to Nations.  As I listen to it now, I get a little choked up at how God gave me a passion as a kid and has carried it out... not to completion yet, but I can already start to see how He is fulfilling His plan in my life.  And I am eternally grateful. 

Counting

Exactly one week from now I will be walking around Singapore.  One week ago I was sitting on my grandparents' sun porch with my entire family.  And that seems like yesterday.  Doing that math, tomorrow I will be in Singapore.

In four days I will be sitting up, unable to sleep, trying to remember what I am forgetting.  Since my plane will be leaving in twelve hours.  

In a day and a half I will be at church, saying goodbye to that family.  They have been my family for seventeen years.  I will stand in front of the church, and they will pray for me.  And... I will cry.  That's a given.  

One suitcase down, two to go.  My room is a disaster as I try to sort through my life, box it up for storage, and pack the little that I can take with me.  I'm at fifty pounds for my first bag... and am crossing my fingers for the other two!

The number of trips to the store are more than I can count.  Some days the past couple weeks, I feel like all I did was shop, for sheets, and towels, and shampoo, and tweezers, and teaching supplies, and cotton clothes.  What can I buy in Indonesia?  What should I bring?  What is worth my precious suitcase space (and weight!)? Questions questions questions! Praise God for friends who are already there and are willing to answer my 2349207 questions.  

Sunday I will say goodbye to Sam, my youth pastor, who is moving to Florida.  While some are mad at him for leaving, and some can't shed another tear, I am excited for him.  He is moving to Florida to teach.  How can I be mad at that?  I'm moving too! But I think, Sam (and Beth and the kids) won't be around next summer when I'm home.  After seven years with him, he won't be at the church any more.  

 I wish I could hurt next to them.  I wish I could attend Sam's farewell party.  I wish I could spend more time with them.  But what I can do will do much more than any of that.  I will pray.  I will be walking around Singapore, setting up my apartment, organizing my classroom.  I will be praying.  Praying for my family... all of them... my parents, sister, and the entire church body.