I'm still finding out what I'm about but I think it has something to do with writing and connecting with people and serving God. I don't believe I have to understand it all in order to do it and am pretty content with what comes my way, day by day. I believe there is a God who created all of us, the world we live in, the science we think disproves Him, well, everything. I know my natural tendency is to think I don't need God and I need to be saved from that. I know I need a savior and I'm thankful I have one. The small glimpses I get from the here and now of what my real home is going to be like when God restores it all - that's what fuels me, stirs my sense of adventure, and keeps me going. Until then, I write about what is.
* sorting several large boxes of dusty, small items
* showering, hair washing, cooking, petting animals, opening packaging, scraping “stuff” off counters, loads and loads of laundry
These are not hands on vacation! I have worn gloves to do yard work but that is about all the protection the jamberry wraps have gotten. After the first day I could sometimes feel a roughness at the nail tips and was afraid they were coming loose but clipping or filing the nail seemed to help. And what helped the most was to QUIT FEELING MY NAILS. I’m not used to having anything on my nails and my tendency is to keep checking to see if they feel smooth. Lately I just don’t do that unless something is rough enough to catch on clothing, then I attend to it.
Lots of people have remarked about my nails. I was around several children on Memorial Day and of course they noticed and were impressed. One of my friends said (in a friendly way) “Oh how seventeen!” by which I think she meant people our age don’t often do something fun and flashy. I don’t feel bad about changing that. Last night my daughter and I walked in to order dinner at a trendy Mexican place full of “cool” people with tatoos. The girl taking our order noticed right away and said she really liked the pattern on my nails, which of course made me feel like I fit right in with the crowd, just in a different way.
So… day 6 and counting, still on.
I’ve cut them a little shorter whenever I feel a rough edge.
Donated craft supplies that I sorted – the girls will love making jewelry from all this!
This week we got assignments – aaaaagh! I’ve had nightmares about being back in school ever since. I’ve done some of mine already, the most fun one of course. I’ve learned how to make ninja balls and you can too if you go here http:/www.youtube.com/watch?v=SyfxIryiD8A.(please disregard the annoying movie commercial that comes first…) I will definitely be using this little idea to make gifts for kids.
Also on the assignment list was to pick out some songs and print song sheets. Daughter Julia has been asked to take her guitar and we will be singing worship songs with our missions team every morning and teaching a few more active songs to the kids. A number of the children show real musical talent both in singing and playing keyboard and guitar. They just seem to pick it up from watching others and, you guessed it, from youtube. They often create dances based on the songs. All of them like to clap and move so music is one of our favorite things to share with them.
We have a memorization assignment. That is going to be the hardest because we have to try to learn some Khmer, which is the language they speak. One of the house mothers spoke the Bible passage we are learning on a video but unless I can slow her down in some way – like to about half her speed – I am never going to be able to tell where one word ends and another begins, let alone what they mean. I already know the English version. We’ll see how the rest goes…
Notebooks for the school kids. Thank you for all the donations!
Since I’m able to take two free checked bags with me I usually offer to carry some of the supplies and gifts the group collects. I was given the two bags this weekend, one with medical supplies and the other with mostly toys. The challenge is now to get all the stuff I’ve collected in those bags too, without going over the 50 lb. limit. I’ve been gifted with notebooks for the school, toothbrushes, jewelry making supplies and crafting materials. I spent one evening sorting the jewelry components and I believe the girls and women will have fun putting those things together.
We are getting close – twelve days until I start my journey. I always get a little excited/nervous at this point trying to make sure I’m not leaving some important thing until last. Prayers appreciated!
Today I am remembering Lee. Lee’s family attended our church. His father was our elementary school principal. His mother was our Sunday school teacher. My younger brothers, after their half day of kindergarten, would walk to her house and stay until time to go back and catch the school bus home. Lee was the youngest of their three sons.
Lee was somewhat older than I was – I don’t remember the age difference. He, his good friend Tom, and I were all in church youth group together and spent a fair amount of time at meetings and after church talking, joking, teasing and tormenting each other. I also don’t remember the details of Lee’s departure. He may have gotten drafted because it was the beginning of the Vietnam war era. He may have decided to join of his own free will. At any rate, he was gone to boot camp and soon off to combat.
It was surreal to hear that he had died. He had been just fine so how could he so quickly be gone? At that age I had not been around death that much and didn’t know what to think. There weren’t grief counselors. I wasn’t in on any adult conversations that might have taken place around that time. It was a short obit in the paper that broke the news. It hurt Lee’s family deeply – I can only imagine – and more trouble came their way. They finally moved from our town and I’ve lost track of them completely.
That’s some of why I want to remember Lee now, because I wasn’t a part of remembering him back then. He so quickly went from shy, silly teenager, to soldier, to deceased and it didn’t seem right that there was nothing I could do about it. It happened so far away, before we even knew. I do remember him and I wish I could tell his parents and brothers that.
I’ve known other friends and relatives who have served in the military since then. I want to thank them this Memorial day and honor their commitment to serve. Not all of them paid with their life, but they all paid a price. Thank you all, and thank you Lee.
This is Teacher Appreciation month – fitting, since they’re just finishing one more year of service to their students. This post was written for my brother’s business blog at appleawards.com but I’m posting it here as a thank you to my teacher friends Joy, Tera, and Norm who were mentioned in the post. Also, thank you to Cheryl, whose students are her business and her life, a dedicated teacher who just happens to be celebrating a birthday today. Happy Birthday Cheryl!
I have a dear friend who is a high school guidance counselor. She has had this job over the years through many changes of administration and policy. Each year she has a large number of students to meet and encourage. My first thought is that she is there to help them plan for the future – know their strengths, choose a career goal, choose their next educational endeavor. For some, this is what she does. For others she hopes first to keep them in high school long enough to graduate. Over the brief time she has them she must develop a relationship and ask for their trust. She holds her breath as she watches them navigate their own personal mine fields – homelessness, abuse and neglect, drugs, alcohol, loneliness, ridicule, promiscuity, anxiety. Often policy changes leave her with more than she can possibly do and fewer tools with which to do anything. Their situations are on her mind far past the dismissal of the last class.
I know a woman who was an elementary school teacher in a small private school. Her example was that of great caring for her students, their families and their greatest good. She dealt with the problems of modern families, showing them compassion, integrity and principles of truthfulness with love. When an administrator was needed for the school, she accepted the position and added that to her teaching role. She left only to become caretaker for her elderly mother. When that was no longer necessary she could have retired, but returned to teaching.
I know a man who teaches music in a high school for gifted students. He holds a second job in music ministry for his church but that doesn’t keep him from spending time with his students and knowing them personally. He is fun, energetic, smart and kind and for all of that his students love him. He pushes them to excellence in their band competitions, he spends hours on their special projects and teaches them to view music with high regard. He also takes their problems home at the end of the day. His church family often hears requests to pray for his students.
It is the end of the school year. May is teacher appreciation month. Who do you know who needs to be affirmed, encouraged or thanked for being who they are and doing what they do in the field of education?
The real me is a farm girl, and not so much the kind that sets apple pies to cool on the windowsill, more likely the kind that has a close affinity to dirt. Dirt ends up in my hair, on my face, my clothing, my feet and under my nails. It’s not that I love dirt (and I do clean up fairly often) but that I can’t seem to get away from it. I accommodate this proclivity in several ways.
For one, I almost never wear white, and I’m a bit afraid of light colors. They invite soil. A white shirt is just waiting for spaghetti sauce. Wear white pants and it won’t be long before I sit on something I shouldn’t. It isn’t worth it, so I wear a lot of earth colors. And I rarely buy a piece of clothing that costs more than twenty dollars. Throwing away a designer priced T-shirt with a weird blob of something on the front is sooooo painful. And contrary to some reports, Oxy Clean does not cure everything with a stain.
I also have opted for a no-frill hair cut that can be washed often and pretty much left to dry on it’s own. It is my answer to Florida humidity and bushy (not really straight, not really curly), kinky hair. I never wash my hair in the morning because I know if I go outside I will be sweaty and unkept in a matter of minutes. Unless I shackle myself to a chair inside I will need at least one shower later, when it’s safe to clean up.
And I don’t do manicures and pedicures. True, I live in sandal land and am insanely jealous of people with beautiful feet on display in their beautiful shoes. But I have trouble pulling it off. It would be easier now that it’s trendy to go with black or brown polish (eew…) but I rarely get past the stage where you have to let it dry. And the fact that my feet are so far away from my eyes that I can’t see them very well is a mixed blessing.
And manicures? My excuse since 8th grade was Miss Varien the piano teacher telling me to cut my nails short or else forget playing piano. After that it was the nursing profession that claimed a whole army of bacteria lived under fingernails and polish. Did we want our patients to die on account of our vanity? No we didn’t.
Well, the person who invited me to an online Jamberry party was clueless about all of this. And since I didn’t know what Jamberry was (I love jam, I love berries, what could go wrong?) I signed up. This sweet girl was thinking of me in her circle of friends and I need all the friends I can get. Imagine my surprise upon finding out it’s all about manicures and pedicures. For a week I learned the language, listened to the stories, watched the videos and entered the contests. By the end of the party I started thinking about the decorative plastic film (think contact paper) as armor for my almost nonexistent fingernails. Not only did I end up buying to support my sweet friend but for the second time in my life I won a contest and got a free sheet of Jamberry thingies to apply to my fingers and toes.
It’s a holiday weekend. I’m going to relax and be a lady (of leisure). I’m going to avoid harsh chemicals, dirt of all kinds (yeah, right…) and abrasive activities and see if my manicure can live up to expectations. Two weeks sounds kind of impossible but here we go, day 1 and counting…
This is not really me, but sometimes it’s kind of nice to be someone else…
Palace building in the sunset, along Mekong riverfront park, Phnom Pehn.
These preparatory days before the trip are going fast, and even as I answer people that it’s still three weeks away, I know I’ll soon be in that moment when it’s over. I can’t get started on the strangeness of time, it always freaks me out. That’s the main reason I like to count the days of anticipation as part of the trip. It gives me time to savor the coming experience and I can make the trip seem much longer.
This week I’ve seen the list of people going on the trip. Three of us will arrive first followed by six others later during the week. I checked my passport again. Some countries require that you have at least six months left before your passport expires, and I have over a year left on mine. I had checked it earlier knowing that renewal, if it was needed could take quite a bit of time.
And there was the matter of making sure my immunizations were up to date. There’s always that sliver of a chance that one could come down with Japanese encephalitis, or dengue fever, or yellow fever, or malaria, or… the list goes on. It’s hard to imagine how people stay alive over there with all that going on. My strategy is going to be trying to avoid mosquitoes and this will probably be the worst season for them. I didn’t buy travel insurance when I bought my flight, but I’m still considering it. I’ve not been inside a Cambodian hospital but I’ve heard that getting medical treatment in a foreign country can be a pretty scary thing, and getting transported home when you’re already sick can be expensive.
For the first time, I was required to read policies and sign waivers for visiting the children’s homes of Asia’s Hope. As the number of their visitors increases they are finding the need to update their policies and protective measures for the safety of the children, which I totally understand. It made me realize that my first visits four years ago were really quite informal and unstructured in comparison.
Tomorrow I’m going to get some reprints of my family pictures – one for each of the two houses where I spend time. They have big bulletin boards on the wall of their main fellowship room where they post pictures of all the people who sponsor and visit them. One year we saw pictures on the board that had been taken the night before when we first arrived at the airport. It really made me feel special.
This week I went through my stash of Mary Kay products and chose the things I want to take to give the ladies and older girls. I came up with a few other things as well and started thinking about how much room it would take in the suitcases. I’m allowed to check two free bags on an international flight and other years they’ve been dedicated to medical supplies and presents and it will probably be the same this trip. I’m sharing one of my favorite pictures here, of the craft that our team leader brought for the children last year – Rainbow looms and rubber bands. They had such fun making bracelets for themselves and all of our team that I am taking them more rubber bands this year.
Everyone made these bracelets, which means the rubber bands were gone pretty quickly.
They love to sing and I know a fun song I would like to teach them but I can’t remember all of it. It is a sign language song with signs for many different animals. The end goes “I know many signs including I LOVE YOU”
. If anyone knows this song and has the music and words for it, please send it to me and I will be forever grateful.
In one direction we have this…and in the other direction something different approaches.
The rains have started to come in the afternoon. I am trying to get a walk in between showers because I’ve been stationary for several days – I just need to get out.
It is more than beautiful everywhere I look because it’s all been washed and refreshed. Little jewels of water sit on all the big leaves. There are at least a hundred different shades of green and they all seem to vibrate, glow.
resurrection fern coming to life
This is a stunningly complex and gorgeous world. We need to look at it and let it say what it has to say. It’s not randomly beautiful. It’s that way on purpose. We’ve been given a gift and it makes me feel… well, loved I guess. Just sayin’.
Yesterday before I went to work I got a facebook call from Cambodia. It was the houseparent of one of the homes there in Prek Eng. Since it was around 9am for me and they are 12 hours different, all the children were still up and gathered around the computer listening. On cue they all greeted me. House dad Ravy asked if I could hear him well, and yes, it was amazingly clear and easy to listen to. After going halfway around the world, the sound was still better than calls on my local internet phone, and way better than my cell phone reception. Modern miracles…
Several of the braver children (probably the ones more confident of their English skills) had short conversations with me about school and their activities. They all want me to guess who they are by the sound of their voice but I am not that good yet. Evidently the newest form of exercise for them is playing badminton in the courtyard in front of their home. Now I see why the list of things being collected includes badminton rackets and shuttlecocks. Ravy mentioned that they wish to have the courtyard paved so the kids don’t have to be in the dirt. That is one of the things I will be evaluating as a project for the funds I raise.
I am happy to say I have received one generous donation already, but no actual responses from my donor letter. I am not the least bit worried about that. I do my part and God does His, an interesting and exciting exercise of faith for me.
House parents Suonbun Saravy (Ravy) on the left and Tharey Sorn (Rey) on the right.Houseparents Kien Khea (An) on left and Raksmey Oum (Smey) on right.
Florida. Spring. Getting warm but the tropical rains haven’t started yet so everything outside gets pretty dry in between showers, in between days when we are allowed to irrigate. The grass (and in my case, the weeds) know it’s growing season though and already mowing needs to be done about every five or six days. Mowing is a dirty, dusty job but I do it because I am a farm girl at heart, and this is as close to the land as I get in my present situation.
Machine love….
I am also a fan of tractors (at length in this post ) and this wonderful machine, which is as close to a tractor as Iget in my present situation is my favorite ride. It almost always starts when I turn the key, it holds enough fuel to mow the oneacrewoods, it turns on a dime with very little effort, the seat is comfy and it has cup holders which I don’t use but they are a nice touch. The zero turn concept is really cool once you get used to it – almost like the way you move your body. I mow a mean swath, not to brag, just a fact.
My last mowing session, however, almost did me in. The air became so thick with leaf dust and dirt that I had to go in the house to clean my eyes out and get some fresh air. I decided to don “the costume” which I usually skip. Masks of all kinds make me feel claustrophobic but this kind of mowing calls for extreme measures. The fact that I can breathe and see outweighs the shame of looking like a panic stricken alien flying around in clouds of dust.
All this to say that if I didn’t love this machine so much I would probably consider hiring someone to do this job for me, like maybe a real alien.
I Just Have to Say... 