Monday, October 31, 2016

The Stuff'ed Life

Hello Dear Abandoned Blog,

Seeing as my blogs usually come after hours spent quietly by myself, processing life and God and events, the blogs have been very few as of late. Mostly given that I am rarely alone with my thoughts for hours on end these days.

I want to go ahead and include a disclaimer, just because I don't have time to sit with my thoughts for hours on end, does not mean that I am upset with how life is going.

I am an internal processor but I'm also an ESFP and so I live my life in the moment, feeling every emotion all at once and leaving thinking and judgement for a later time. If I don't have time to think, I simply move on, however, it usually lends to some emotional breakdown where I cry for an hour or two because my brain is thinking allllll of the thoughts and feelings all of the emotions at once and if not processed and sorted out I become so emotionaly overwhelmed.. I just cry.

So, you can safely bet that I've done a lot of crying over the last few months, but that's not a bad thing really. I learned in college that a good cry does wonders for the soul.

ANYWAYS.. that's not at all what brought me here right now. What brought me here is a profound little nugget that I've been turning over in my head these last 30 hours.

Let me preface: These last months have been crazy. To start, long distance dating requires choices to be intentional with "spare time". Sleeping in on weekends is somewhat of a myth these days and with that, the slow groggy mornings spent with coffee and my Bible and prayer journal and nothing planned. Having two siblings get married in the same month has meant a lot of planning, preparing, and long conversations with people on the phone.Besides those BIG things, I've joined another church and with joining another church I've joined another Bible study. So these last few months have been doing the juggle of event planning, working a full time job, attending two Bible studies, two churches, a one-on-one discipleship, getting together with specific friends on "evenings off" and then traveling weekends.

I'm amazed if I get my laundry washed... MORE amazed if I put it away.. which, honestly, has happened less times than I care to admit in the last couple of months. I've managed to make my bed a few times and call home every now and again and hopefully eventually I'll have time enough to have more than just a bag of sliced turkey and some eggs in my fridge. Grocery shopping is the least of my worries these days.

Again, none of these things are bad. I've been overwhelmingly filled with joy these last few months and my heart has begun to grow at God's stretching and my heart has been dancing continuously.

I managed to clean my car a while back and between my traveling and lack of time, my car has slowly become a graveyard of half drank water bottles, empty mason jars, plastic bags of items passed on to me that I left behind somewhere along with church bulletins and gas receipts. Every time my sweet, taller-than-me boyfriend gets in my car to drive us somewhere and moves the seat back so that he can get his legs in, all of everything I tried to shove under the seat is instantly revealed and I always apologize by saying, "Sorry.. my life is a mess." And he always reassures me that it's fine and he's aware of the state of my car and that doesn't mean my life is falling apart.

Once I tried to put all of the things that were on the seats of my car into my trunk and that worked for a week. But now my trunk is full, mostly with things I might need while traveling, and it just adds to the feeling like my life is out of control.

Yesterday, I needed to get something out of my trunk and hesitated when I saw a young child pedaling his way around the cars on his tricycle. I thought to myself that he'd probably pedal away before I got to my car, but to my disappointment, he parked himself behind my trunk when I went to pop it open. I reached in and grabbed what I needed and looked at him and said, "My car is a mess." And I was genuinely embarrassed.. in front of a 6 year old.

He looked at me and cheerfully said, "Your cars not a mess, it just has a lot of stuff in it."

Be still my heart. I almost cried right then and there. That was just a balm to my insecure little heart.

I just suddenly realized that maybe my life isn't a mess.. it just has a lot of stuff in it.

And when I visited my newly married sister later that day and she apologized for the state of her living room, currently filled with the stuff they received at their wedding saying, "Sorry my house is a mess," I cheerfully passed on the joyful little nugget the 6 yr old had said to me. "Your living room isn't a mess, Pearl. It just has a lot of stuff in it."

It's such a hopeful way of putting it. When something is a "mess" its more of a disaster and it's bad and it needs to be fixed. When something has "a lot of stuff in it,"its not hopeless. You can just take some stuff out and it's fine.

And I realize that at some point, something more needs to give.. and very soon I will be taking a lot of things off my plate. A full plate isn't bad. But, I've been squeezing my quiet times in a little bit in the morning and a little bit in the evening before bed and it just hasn't been enough time with the Lord.

There's a big difference between spending time talking about God (Bible studies..church... etc) and talking TO God. And in all the chaos and running around, I've missed our hours long alone times. I'm back to a breaking point where I need to just re-organize and have less... stuff, going on.

And that is where I am at the moment. My life is stuffed full with wonderful people, wonderful adventures and a wonderful God. Now I just need to spend time praying and finding out what stuff I need to re-organize.

God is good and I am growing, which is really the most important part of life anyways.

Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Summer Sometimes

It seems to be another one of those summers where I'm forever jumping in and out of my car and driving a couple hours to my next weekend adventure. Weddings, summer visits, family barn renovation, sailing, cleaning... it's a full one. 


I'm just thankful that my weekdays are just as my packed as my weekends. If that weren't the case, I'd be spending my evenings wishing the hours away to the next weekend and next big adventure. 




Although, my weekends, lately, have been spent sweating and getting covered in dirt, dust, and bird droppings whilst helping my sweet parents re-do a barn for the TWO sibling weddings this October. 




Good timing, actually. I'm getting a new brother AND a new sister. So the Kohl children will now be an even dozen. :) :) (They're cheaper by the dozen anyhow) :) :)




Speaking of us Kohl children, I think this summer is setting the record for best communication. We're all a little more scattered than we've ever been, spread into 5 states and 7 cities, our in-persons with each other have to be way more intentional and our phone conversations are more often. I love it. Absolutely. 




For those of you who have asked after the state of my heart, having been following the broken valley and the slow-incline out of it, I'm in a place of joy. A place where being intentional in my pursuit of the Lord is challenging and important and rewarding. Not to say that being intentional with the Lord is ever NOT important or rewarding or ever easy either. It is what it should be, but I'm really fighting for it. 




I'm studying 1 John with my Bible study, 1 Thessalonians in my one-on-one discipleship meetups, and the book of James with the hope of memorizing it as well as cross referencing my studies into my study of the book of Romans. My plate is full. 




On top of that, I'm trying to keep my schedule steadily full of investing in relationships one-on-one with Bible study friends and making my weekly rounds of phone chats with cousins and siblings across the U.S. and SOMETIMES go to bed by 11pm




Work continues to go very well. It has its waves of complete chaos and overload and feeling too exhausting to process and issue any more contracts and sometimes it has a lull and moments of utter calmness. 




Right now we're in a calm part and I don't mind it at all.

Since there has been FAR TOO much to truly put into words, I'll just include some pictures and hopefully that will suffice for now. 



For as much as I love a spontaneous, un-planned adventure, I always have a list of adventures I want to do. My sweet friend Anne and I attempted to hammock over night in the woods a year ago.. we crawled into our hammock at 2:30 in the morning and it immediately started drizzling.. and then steadily raining. We didn't have a rain-proof tarp or anything and ended up seeking shelter in our friends' parent's garage at 4am. We didn't count it as a true camp-out on account we only lasted 2 hours.
It was on our list for this summer to ACTUALLY spend a whole night outside in a hammock like true adventurers do on a regular basis.

A week before our friend, Amanda's wedding, Anne accepted a job in FL which left us with THE ONLY option of camping out after the wedding reception. I thought long and hard about all the safest sets of trees for two females to sleep in over night in Des Moines.. and it turns out, the perfect place was RIGHT in front of me. The wedding reception was at a camp ground owned by our church.

SO!! After the wedding reception was all picked up, we dropped our exhausted  and danced out wedding-feet-that-had-spent-too-many-hours-in-heals into my swimming pool for a little bit and then threw on our PJs. At good ol' 12am, we returned to the reception site and began our hunt for the perfect set of trees for our overnight adventure.
We didn't find any perfect trees. BUT! We did find an old abandoned tank-lookin' Noah's Ark parked on a basketball court and managed to string ourselves between the ark and a basket-ball hoop pole.
It was glorious! Apart from the fact that I failed to think I'd need a blanket and almost froze to death at 3am and curled up in my hammock praying the sun would hurry up and rise and start warming things up again. But it was wonderful and we were so excited to have successfully hammocked overnight.


Here is a picture of my coffee mug and a list of places to hit at some way-too-early-for-a-saturday-morning time of the morning.
Garage sale'ing with my mom is a highlight every year and I've been able to expand my professional wardrobe with out destroying my grocery budget. 




Here's another one ^^^ This barn. The White Barn as it has been called for as long as I can remember. Built at the turn of the century (around 1918 I think) as a milking parlor for a small dairy, it was a staple of my childhood. In case you missed it, 2 of my siblings are getting married come October and both are planning epic dance party receptions in this, our old dairy barn. (That we used for sheep WAY back in the day and only a little bit for our baby cows). The barn reno project has been one of the largest endeavors we've taken on since Dad built the other half of our house. (Which isn't technically even done, But I aint judgin'.) 





It's a fun project, and we love seeing how the Lord blesses us with other people who show up to help.
(BTW, We'll take all the help we can get between now and then) 




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With numbers being low at work, our Friday games (we play every Friday) have allowed for longer game times. One of our FAVORITE games is called Molkky . It's super fun, and also like $50 because it's a European game you gotta order online. So, my sweet father let me visit his wood pile and make my own. 



Why spend money when you can spend time?.... Okay.. don't answer that. BUT in this case.. it was worth it. 






The 4th of July was its usual wonderful self that it is. We lined the curb for the parade and heckled all of the floats and walkers. Which, that's what parades are for anyways. If you're gonna walk in front of people for attention, you may as well welcome the attention. Which.. we gave them. 






Sailing.
Guys, the boats weren't even in the water last year and my heart died a little. Ever since I got certified.. 13 years ago, it has been a MAJOR highlight of every summer. Sailing is life.
I've been out TWICE now this year and am hoping to hit it at least one more time.
I even got to spend some time on a high-wind day in a Hobie Wave and that was wonderful. 




I've spent a lot of weekend at home this summer. Helping with the barn and visiting the humans residing under my parent's roof. These babes are some of my best friends and they're an absolute joy to hangout with when I go home. 

Sunday, May 8, 2016

The Coorporate Missionary

Well, Dear Readers, Another month has come and gone. I feel it is time enough for a little update on my life. Especially for you who, so faithfully, watched me struggle through the months of unemployment and despair.

And hear we are a YEAR later. I have only grasped that concept on account the roommate that is getting married and will no longer be on our housing lease is already moved out and fairly settled into her new apartment. Aye yi yi.. time flies so fast.  So, let's re-cap: 


Here's the big one: I GOT HIRED!!! Officially. As in, the search for employment is over. (Big deal, Fern, you got a job last October..) Well.. I was originally just a temp with a deadline: April 12th would be the day my life was thrown back into unknown and job search. BUT, God bless MetLife, they decided to keep me. And as of April 11th, I've been a real life Annuities Analyst. That sounds fancy doesn't it?? I like saying.. after all the times people would ask me what I do and I'd say, "I'm looking for a job." And they'd get all quiet and try to change the subject.. YES I was fully aware that I wasn't contributing to society. Now I am.  AND I actually love it. 


If someone would told me ahead of time that this would be my life I wouldn't have ever gone to the interview or accepted the job... well.. in my mind I think that.. but I was REAL DESPERATE for ANYTHING by the time this interview and job offer came around.. so who knows. BUT! I do love it. My co-workers are literally the best. They make me laugh, they share their coffee with me, they help me with all of my questions.. they're literally the best. While I'm fully aware that the daily grind can make anyone lose one's sense of purpose or goals, I have only been more encouraged.

Here's the funnest thing: When I was first hired I told the Lord, "I'll go, but I don't really wanna do this alone. So.. send along another." And I know I wrote about the Christian lady who shares a cube wall with me.. but the Lord had for me a bigger surprise. There was a sweet girl about my age hired just after me. AND she came straight outta camp ministry. She loves Jesus and she LIVES Jesus.. and the two of us seem to be making progress. She sees our office space as a mission field just as I do and she's got courage and visions for our office bigger than I do. She wants to get a Bible study started and she's not shy in having spiritual conversations. We both talk about the Lord as we stop over at each other's desks or meet up in the break room or hall way. I'm hoping we're planting and watering seeds along the way. Other co-workers have begun to speak more openly about their faith and walks of life.. I LOVE it and I hope it keeps going. (MORE TO COME ON THAT ONE)



This is just a picture of a proud moment. Let's be honest, in my childhood, I decided I'd get married when I was 22 or 23 and have a man to do all of the things men aughta do. LOL.
Okay well, I DO live in an apartment.. so there is a maintenance man who is supposed to do some of the things a man aughta do.. like fix to toilet paper dispenser.  We put in a work order before Christmas time.. that never happened. My beautiful and wise mother gave me the perfect little screw-driver set for Christmas and I felt like a good responsible adult when I fixed the thing myself. I tell this story more to brag about my mom. If you have a mom who give screw drivers and tape measures for Christmas, hug her and kiss her face and tell her she's the best. If you have a mom who has taught you how to USE those screw drivers and tape measures by example because she fixes and builds things all the time, GOOD GRACIOUS.. it's Mother's Day.. GO TELL HER SHE'S THE BEST.

Okay.. Here's another thing I love about being in the work-world: Reading. READING A LOT.
Okay.. I'm actually REALLY extroverted and need humans 98% of the time. BUT, being an adult means that you do the daily grind thing, get off at 5pm, and ration out the precious hours before you go to bed and do it all over again. When I first graduated college, I was a nanny. And I (Hopefully my nanny mom's aren't appalled by this if they read this) would sometimes be out late with friends nights before I had to work. And it worked out because my kids usually took naps and we all took our breaks together. SO, getting stuck in a ditch at 1am when I had to be to work at 5am wasn't that much of a concern to me at all times.. it was more important that I was stuck in a ditch with my friends. WHO NEEDS SLEEP WHEN YOU HAVE FRIENDS??? Lol... Well.. now I get off work and.. read. Or play my ukulele. What an introvert. BUT! I could tell you all of the books I've read and you'd be proud (Hopefully.) I've already read 20 books this year!


This was a RARE capture of the kids doing what they were told
I couldn't believe it happened so I took a picture.
(Also, we had 18 kids, not just 3)

Here's the other thing: I've been doing Awana. This Tuesday is the closing ceremony!! I'm going to be really honest, as much as I loved Awana the first couple months last fall, it got real hard, real fast and the last Awana before Christmas break it was the roughest hard night with the kiddos. I ended having a complete break down when the main leader guy asked me how I was doing. I opened my mouth to say, "it's been a rough night." And all of the sudden I was crying multiple tears out of both my eyes and gasping for breath, crying harder than I have in who-knows-how long and couldn't even say words. So in a bug-eyed, bewildered, completely-caught-off-guard face, he asked, "We're the kids pretty tough tonight?" And I shook my head yes while trying to catch my breath and when I couldn't I just grabbed my coat and walked out. Fifteen minutes early.

It took lots of pep-talks from my roommate and my mom to go convince myself to go back when it started again in January. And I only went back to see if I aughta resign from the gig in-person. And I've taken it one week at a time since then. Sometimes I cried on my drive home, sometimes I cried on the way there in anticipation.

And that's only to say, I learned that Awana is not my gifting. Young kids ministry is not my gifting. It's been quite the stretching of my heart and DEFINITELY humbling. Half of me wants to apologize to all of the kids and the two humans I share awana duties with and say I'm sorry for coming up short or for volunteering for a job for which I didn't qualify. BUT, I'm prouder than than anything that I stuck it out and only missed the week I was in Nicaragua.

Since Awana was my "only ministry" this year, I've really struggled with feeling completely worthless for the Lord. I think Ive mentioned that in other blogs.

BUT here's the exciting thing from work that has my heart SO EXCITED:

The other day one of the member from a different team at my office came over to introduce himself to the people on my team and when he got to me he asked where I'd come from. When we got to the part where I had studied Psychology at the University of Iowa, he asked what I was doing next. "What do you mean by 'Next'?", I asked? "You psychologist don't get your degrees to be annuity reps you're whole life, what's next?" He responded.

"Oh!! My grad program will be in Marriage and Family Therapy."

And he got all excited, grabbed a chair and said, "Okay then, are you really busy? I gotta talk to you." I told him my case load wasn't bad and he mentioned to my manager he was going to talk to me for a bit.

He pulled his chair up and asked my opinion on love. After I asked him to clarify how he meant by that question he asked if it's possible to lose love. I explained to him the different definitions of love in the Greek explanation and said that Agape was unconditional love and that one cannot be lost.

He was thoughtful for a bit and then went on to share that that he feels like his love has been violated a lot of times and he's been through hard things.

I thought for a moment before telling him, "Well, it's been my experience that as we experience hard things, our heart tries to put up walls to protect us, but those walls can also prevent us from giving or receiving love. And it's also been my experience that the only forgiveness can set you free to love and be loved again. But that's the hardest decision to make, and the one we like the least and sometimes we can't forgive times we've been violated on our own strength.But it's the only solution."

And he pondered that a second before saying that he believes God has brought him through a lot of hard things for a reason. But he hasn't figured out what that reason is yet.

And then the conversation ended as abruptly as it had started. I was stunned and shocked that it had even happened, but it made my entire day. It was a good reminder that my job isn't my end-all and awana isn't going to be the sole representation of my ministry.


And with that hope, I press on, To be a light to my co-workers and a blessing to those around me. And honestly, MOST DAYS, I feel crappy about it. I feel like I'm not good enough, obvious enough, sweet enough, kind enough, or servant enough or selfless to be Jesus to the people around me. But I have hope treasured in jars of clay that where my heart has been broken and re-crafted, and chipped and re-pasted, that is where the light comes through. That is where people can see Jesus best. Thank the Lord for broken hearts, people.

Broken people, loved by God can reach the broken world that is loved by God.




Tuesday, April 26, 2016

Nicaragua Pt. 4: The Big Take Away

I've been trying to process since before getting back to the states what all this trip has meant for my heart. My heart that was so weary and broken and cracked and dry prior to going. My heart that selfishly decided I NEEDED to go on this trip because my heart needed a week with Jesus. For me. I think I've finally realized something big. 

Deep, deep down, I want with my whole life to be impactful for eternity. I want all I do to be of value. Since I know the most valuable things are eternal, I tend to measure myself against my eternal impact. 

Perhaps this is why I find myself discouraged so easily. When one sits at a dual monitor computer for 8 hours every day, moving around thousands upon thousands of human, earthly dollars so that one can have a few earthly dollars oneself, it's very easy to feel very insignificant. 

There were a recorded 146 professions of faith during our days in the village. I was present for zero of them.. as far as I know. If someone decided they wanted to get their life straight with the Lord while sitting in our dentist chair getting their teeth pulled, I missed it. Not that I don't think someone might be motivated to prepare for death when a 2 and a half inch needle and syringe full of novacane is coming at their mouth, if they did decide then was the time to commit their soul into God's hands, I was not made aware of it. 

The mission of BMDMI is to 1) Evangelize to the lost 2) Disciple the saved 3) and Serve the poor.  

One of the things I keep having to process in my heart was how *MY* presence on the trip accomplished any of those things. There was never a point where I specifically spoke of Christ's love to any of our patients. I did not pray with any one, either. 

One might argue that I actually did nothing real important, actually. 
At least.. I argue that with myself just a little. After all, serving the poor is goal number 3 and is not as important as goals one and two. 

However, I also argue that my own heart is a mission field and *I* was reached by all that was done. The thing of short-term mission trips, while they might not even be able to make a tiny dent in the needs, they put deep gashes into our hearts.  The Lord breaks my heart in many ways all the time. With every rip in my heart, He uses something sweet to put me back together. 

And so my heart has been stitched back up with the fabric of Nicaragua. With peace, with joy, with patience, with love. One of our dear Nicaraguan friends who did not come to the village with us this year came and visited us at the mission house in Managua on the last day. We caught up a little and after being back in the U.S. I expressed to him the difficulties of transitioning back to reality. How my heart longed to be back in Nicaragua and how I did have much joy in the routine and fast-paced go-go-go that I live in the U.S.

He is wise beyond his years and wrote back, cautioning me to not find my joy in Nicaragua. He said that even in Nicaragua, you can get sick of routine. This is something I should be so well practiced at this point I shouldn't need a reminder. But the reminder was soothing all the same. The joy of knowing Christ in ANY country surpasses all sadness and brokenness and blahs in which we find ourselves. 

My hope is to someday move to Nicaragua. But I think I should not move any where until I have fully learned to be thankful and content in the circumstances the Lord has given me. Especially since it is different to be on a one-week medical trip with North American doctors vs. LIVING in the country with a routine same as I would in the U.S.


I've thought through the schedule of my day and how little I actually opened my Bible while on the trip. Well, it's not that I OPENED it little, is that it was not open for long and I did not read for whole chapters or books of it like I usually do. Reading one verse can sometimes feel like drinking with an eye dropper. BUT, I meditated on that verse about beautiful feet and what "Good News" was. Because I was just the dental help.

BUT!!! Here is what I learned. The body of Christ has many parts and the eye can't say to the hand, "I don't need you." I've known of that passage forever. Here's the whole thing: 
"Now if the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” it would not for that reason stop being part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has placed the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.
The eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you!” And the head cannot say to the feet, “I don’t need you!”
 I realized that in real life I struggle with feeling valuable to the body of Christ. Having a career and just contributing financially and showing up to Bible study and serving in the nursery and suffering through Awana doesn't seem like anything good to me. Honestly.. I just feel completely worthless.

And as I've thought about my role on the team in Nicaragua, it has crossed my mind that holding a flashlight while a chisel gets hammered into someone's gums does not seem like it is essential for sharing the gospel, but, it was a small facet of the team as a whole. The WHOLE team was important to sharing the love of Christ. AND SO as I've been trying to transition back to the US and feeling like I'm back to being of little value.

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It's been a little more than a month now. If I was a good blogger, I'd proof read that previous bit for typos and to see if it flows well.. but life catches up. 

That's the odd thing about missions trips, life doesn't really stop long enough for you to fully absorb all the lessons as you truly should. But maybe the key is to keep on reflecting and straining oneself to truly think what it meant to you. 

Honestly, things have taken off at work. I'm officially official and have the job security I dreamed of a year ago and am gaining respect from co-workers and have a fulllll calendar with social engagements and people to reach out to and plans to plan and books to read and... things.

Life just.. keeps on moving. But, I am still taking to heart all of the things that hit me in Nicaragua.

THE BIG TAKE AWAY that I realized..as I was blogging about not being there for the professions of faith and what good was I actually.. Someone had to hold the flashlight for the dentist and help prep the needles and wash the tools and  be there. IF JUST the pastors were on the trip, when would have have been able to stop and preach and pray with the people? If just the doctors were on the trip, who would have hefted the 6 tons of rice and beans and give the families their Bibles?

If just the dentists were on the trip, who would provide the glasses so the people could read the Bibles they were given??

All are important parts of the team. That's a small thing to realize.. maybe an obvious thing.. but the important thing I realized is, even though I'm currently working a career and not leading any sort of CHURCH organized ministry, it's still important. It's important for me to show up to Bible study and participate in the body. It is important for me to read my Bible on my own time so I can share what the Lord puts on my heart and encourage other believers. It is important for me to show up and hold babies in the nursery so mom's can listen to the sermons. It is important for me to show up to Awana  (Even though it is the most difficult thing ever) and show love to the kiddos because it may be all the love they get in a week. At no point do I get to say, "I'm not important, I don't think I'll participate any more."

Alllllll members of the body are important. All people are important. Whether you have a career or no job at all. No matter if you're in a valley or on a mountain top, you're walk with the Lord is important for the whole body of believers. You can encourage and be encouraged.

And so, I've become more content with my job and position amongst my co-workers and friends and family.

And I'm thankful. I'm thankful for all who participate and bless me with their walks with the Lord. Who share their fruit of the Spirit with me. I'm thankful for how the Lord has pursued my heart and used my trip to Nicaragua to teach me to be content. I'm thankful everything on my platter and I'm thankful for you, Dear Reader. You're important. Never forget that for a second! You're important.

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Nicaragua pt. 3: Summer sausage, Coke in a bag, Pineapple and Precious Moments

My sweet friend Jessica has been sharing her version of our trip in her blog as well and I have been SO enjoying reading all the things I wondered what she had been thinking as we traveled.

Since she mentioned that I tried to smuggle an apple into Nicaragua, I thought I might as well share with you a funny little airport security story.

My darling sister, Rose, is hostess level saint and when I had mentioned to her that I did not want to spend money on airport food considering we'd be in the airport from 7:30am to 10pm when we would arrive in Managua, she began throwing out suggestions of food she had that we could take with us.

She produced several things for us, one of which was a 1lb sleeve of Summer sausage.  Since our first flight was Omaha to Houston, I figured any sort of food would be fine to fly from Point A to Point B. Our group of bright lime-green tshirts was an obvious travel party in the airport and the fellow just ahead of me got his bag pulled off the line because his full-sized Bible was too thick for the scanner to read and looked suspicious. The airport security man pulled his bag, located the foreign object and said, "A Bible?? Good gracious, we need to scan this again." And they plucked out the Bible and ran it through on it's own, it passed.

Then was me. They pulled out my bag and said, "Any sharp objects or liquids in here?"
"I hope not!" I said.
He looked very purposefully and said, "AH HA!" And pulled out my summer sausage. "A sausage!" He took the sausage out of my bag and ran it through the scanner all its own and it passed.

My friend Todd just behind me got his bag pulled and the security man said, "Now what.. do you have any sausage in here?" He did not.

As I chuckled about my lunch getting us in a little airport trouble, someone else said, "Well, Josh had THREE scissors in his bag. And they let him keep 'em."

And praise Jesus for that because we used the scissors to cut strings for bracelets we made for the kiddos for children's church. 536 bracelets to be exact. I know that because that is the exact amount we were able to make and it was the exact amount we needed for the kiddos.

Jess and I split the summer sausage for lunch in the airport that day and it held us over for supper as well. Which is why when I was on my flight to Managua out of Houston at 7pm, I was not hungry enough to eat my American apple. We touched ground and I looked in my bag and was like, "Ahh!!! What do I do??" But I just kept it in my bag, until right before we went to get our bags scanned to enter the country and one of my team said, "If anyone has an apple in their bag it is a $2000 fine." And I quickly discarded the apple in the nearest trash bin. --- And that was the adventure of getting to Nicaragua.

You have to remember I had no use of my vocal chords at that point and so I mostly just laughed at the situation since I had no way to defend myself.
--

Now let's see, I forgot to tell you, On Sunday after I had rested on my bed and before we started our clinic, we had an hour or two to explore the town. We were an obvious crowd of greengos as we wondered through the streets looking for a store. My most favorite thing to buy from a Nicaraguan street shop is apple juice. It's one of the most delicious drinks the Lord ever made and it tastes very different in Nicaragua than in the U.S.
We found a little store and one of the kind men on our team declared drinks all around and they had apple juice in a little juice box. I was SO happy. One thing they do in Nicaragua to save their glass bottles and get their 5cents back is that they pour all the drinks into a plastic bag and tie them off. You just bite a little hole in the bag and sip on it. Since I had a juice box, I didn't need a plastic bag, but our team pastor had to sip his coke out of the plastic bag and it looked so funny but it was so part of the culture too. They eat and drink everything out of a plastic bag so as to not have to dirty a fork or plate or cup. If it can be squeezed out of a small hole, it goes in a bag. I remember looking at Mike sipping his coke out of a plastic bag with the interpreters and thinking, "We are home."
--
On Monday when I took a brief respite from dental surgery to practice my ukulele with the band, I had a time of waiting for my turn so I was sitting behind the stage with our sermon interpreter, Jeffry. Jeffry introduced me to a little girl, just 12 years old, and said she was wanting to practice her English and I needed to practice my Spanish so he told us to be friends. So she said to me, "Hello. How are you?" and I said, "Muy bein! Etu?" and so we attempted to speak, she in English and me in Spanish, Jeffry translating in between. But mostly we just sat by each other and smiled, not really knowing enough of each other's language to carry a substantial conversation. If I asked, "how are you?" in English, she would say, "Fine." She helped me practice my counting in Spanish and I helped her count in English.

My Spanish is very limited to things like, "how old are you?" or "how are you?" I can say good morning, good night, sit down, excuse me, and "Do you need the dentist or for your eyes?" I understand that is not a good sentence since it isn't correct in anyone's language.. but it was important to know since one day our interpreter was missing and a patient came and sat in our chair and her eyes became wide as dinner plates when she saw our dentist prepping a needle. She very quickly proclaimed that she needed glasses and we apologized for wanting to remove all of her teeth.

I chuckled at that a little. As in the U.S. you have to fill out a full medical history for anything and mark five times the reason you are visiting the doctor. And then sign your name all over the place.
Also, did I mention it was dry and dusty and windy? It was all of those things and we don't have glass window panes or anything, so I noticed that the table on which we set our freshly sterilized tools grew progressively darker and dustier and dirtier as the days wore on. It was kind of nice, though. Because you could see where a tool had been taken from and you could easily set it back in dust outline on the table where it belonged.

Another thing we do in the states is tell people not to eat the night before and all of that stuff.
We had a young girl bound up to our clinic at about 3pm one afternoon and she was chewing on a watermelon. Our interpreter asked what she needed and her mom said she needed a tooth removed. The interpreter told her to finish her watermelon first because she wouldn't be able to eat any more for a while after.

Another patient we had had a tooth with roots very deep in his gums that took a lot of work to get out. Our sweet North American dentist kept adding stitches to get it to stop bleeding and was very concerned that he not do anything in the hot sun. She had him wait inside our clinic so she could check the bleeding every ten minutes and add a stitch or two. After 45 minutes or so, it seemed like the bleeding stopped enough to let him go home, but Holly asked the interpreter a couple of times to make sure the young man knew not to lift anything heavy or spend too much time outside.

It were those times that I thought about how much I liked the ease and simplicity of this way of doing things. Perhaps it sounds un-safe or sketchy, but it was so relaxed and..simple. People walked in, we treated them, we gave them antibiotics, we sent them home.

I really like simple.

I have mentioned before that one of the ways to get past the blood and gore of the dental clinic was to have sweet conversations with everyone in there.

One night after getting out of the dentistry, Our interpreter, Jeffry asked me "something something nueva amiga" something.. it was in Spanish and I was thoroughly confused. Jessica translated for me and let me know he was asking about my new friend. After some confusion about what new friend he was talking about we sorted it out that he was referring to the little girl at the church tent and I told him all was well.

He asked Jessica in Spanish how her day was and after she responded she asked what he did that day.
I don't know Spanish well at all so I didn't find much interest in the conversation. Jessica turned to me and explained,  "he asked me about my day so I asked about his and what he did today. He said he's been lazy all day." I chuckled. And she said, "I know in English we joke but I think he's being serious. He said he's the right hand of Darrel so he just supervises." I laughed again and said, "He interprets for all the church services." Jess didn't catch that I said that I guess and went on conversing in Spanish. Just as I was heading toward church for the evening Jess caught up to me and apologized that she had mis-informed me that Jeffry was being serious. She explained that he was joking about being the right hand of Darrel and it was all confusing and they both decided that being the right hand of anyone is a joke in both English and Spanish. I assured her that, yes, I knew he was joking and she did not accidentally make me to lose all respect for the guy. (We both shared a good chuckle over the ordeal all the same).

Later that night at church, they invited our team captain up to share a few words with all the people. Being clever, I suppose, The Captain decided to speak about how we are all the body of Christ and some of us, "are the right hand of God, " (At which point Jeffry, who was translating this, smirked a little as he relayed this to the people) and then The Captain said, "And you guys are the left hand of God." (Jeffry giggled when he translated that.) And Jessica and Jeffry made eye contact and realized that maybe it's not always a joke.

---
Monday night was also the night I discovered one could drag a plastic chair into the shower stall with them so one doesn't have to risk dropping one's sleeping pants onto the sopping wet ground when grabbing them from the hook in the stall. Also, the conversation before the showering was so rich and wonderful. As we gathered in our chairs awaiting an open stall, we all began taking turns sharing our God stories and delighting in all the Lord had done to bring us to this exact moment that we would be sitting in plastic chairs in the middle of a school yard in Nicaragua waiting to run a little bit of water over our dirt matted heads.

God is good, guys. How else would you explain a moment like that? It makes you feel small and precious all at once.

I think it was also Monday night that the "Tooth Brushing Squad" was established as an official group. It was me and the 15yr old, Josh, as well as the 14yr old Evey. There is one accessible water source for drinking and teeth brushing once the sun has gone down and humans have begun go to sleep and that is the cooler just outside our make-shift kitchen. Josh and Evey were brushing their teeth by the cooler and as I joined the party we decided to make it an official thing and we rather loved to meet up by the cooler in the nights after.

That's a silly thing, I know. But, it was one of those beautiful moments where I appreciated that age is just a number and maturity is everything to do with how well you love the Lord. They could have been my age or I could have been theirs... but we talked more of how God was encouraging our hearts and the things we were enjoying in the precious minutes by the cooler. I LOVED that. I really did. 


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Tuesday morning my voice was almost back and one of the girls asked if I might help lead our devotions group in a worship song. We did Amazing Grace (Chains are gone).. she on her guitar and me on my Uke. Some people might say that you can't sing at 6:45am.. but seeing as we all were well awake by the point, it was a beautiful sound and it was another moment I treasured in my heart.

I remember when I received my breakfast pancake Tuesday morning, I wasn't actually hungry and couldn't make myself to eat it. I ate some of my pineapple, but soon brought my plate over to Josh, who would eat anything and everything for anybody.. what a kind soul. That is only significant to know because I didn't start out in Dentistry on Tuesday. I was in pharmacy/ Family pack to start but wasn't doing anything that couldn't be done by any of the other bodies present and right about 9am I was all the sudden starving hungry. I had told Connor that I would relieve him dentistry where he was stationed and felt real nauseated and it wasn't even that hot out yet.
I walked over to the kitchen, bleached my hands and popped my head in, which is usually completely off limits (Distracting the cooks is a huge no-no) and asked what the chances were that I might cheat the rules and procure some fruit. They invited me inside and gave me a whole bowl of fresh cut pineapple and a glass of water.

I felt so entirely loved.

I took my pineapple outside to the shade and enjoyed it while feeling a little guilt since I wasn't doing anything more than sitting in the shade eating pineapple. I was almost finished when Connor came out the Dentistry claiming to be in much need of water as he had never experienced almost fainting at the sight of blood to this point of his life. Connor is an old farmer man. Well.. he's only 21 years old.. but he's an old farmer man anyways. He bought his first house and farm acreage at the ripe old age of 20 and lives his bachelor life with his cows and corn and bean fields and is on the county board for soil management..or something like that. He's a little difficult to explain. But my point is, you know it was a bad one if HE is nearly fainting since farmers see blood all the time. To be fair, though, they did make him hammer the chisel into the patient's gum. I finished my pineapple and told him I could take over since his muscles were more useful for lifting the 100lb sacks of beans in family pack anyhow.

And so there I was, rubber gloves and flashlight in hand, washing tools and handing gauze to the dentists to stop the bleeding. It was a slower day than the one before.. only 36 patients that day. That's not many considering we had 8 hours to see them. But it was another good day of getting to know people and talking about Jesus.

Those are the hours that can't be written because there are not many good words to describe them. Micah and I shared a particularly bloody patient, him holding the tools basket and me holding the light.. asking him why he loved the Lord and how he ended up in Nicaragua was a good distraction. Having our interpreter explain to me the actual CULTURE of Nicaragua and why it is so important to our witness that we greengas wear skirts instead of pants or shorts and how he came to know the Lord what God has been doing in his life these many years and why he leaves his family for a week to be our interpreter in a village that is not his village... those are rich moments. Sobering moments. The ones that you have to think about for a long time after because they bare more weight than the moment allows.




I'll write more about those precious moments in the next blog. This one is already getting too long!


Stay tuned!

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Beautiful Feet

Let it not go unsaid that miracles still happen in many obvious ways. 

Friday night before my friend Jessica and I set out for our grand adventure, we stayed with my sister, Rose in Omaha. We talked a bunch about the power of prayer and how silly it is that we don't pray for the things we need, however great or small. And even when we do pray, we sometimes explain it away as if it were going to happen that way anyways. 

Wouldn't it be just the Lord to remind us the importance of prayer just before we would need to practice it most?

The first big miracle that we witnessed was water.

Our sweet little village has been in a drought for three years. The fields are dried up and they walk their cattle to a water source twice a day to keep them alive. 

The village water gets turned on every 15 days and they are required to ration their water. Whenst we arrived on Sunday morning, there was no water in our shower barrels and we were told there would be no water until Tuesday. We could have survived without water. We were dirty, yes, but we could have survived. 

But, in our pray-over-the-compound moments, a group of the team gathered around the water barrels and prayed for water. Our local missionary made a final phone call, and there was water coming out of the pipes within minutes. MINUTES, guys. 

As I said in the previous post, our first Sunday in the village was pretty busy..especially for dentistry. I handled the blood better than I expected and was rather relieved when our last patient left a little after 6pm

We then had supper and were told that church would be at 7pm across the way. I had not explored our church tent during the day time and it gets dark right at 6pm everyday. With flashlights in hand, the group of us left the compound and found ourselves marching across a dried field, trying not to catch our skirts on the dried plants along the way. It was a little bit of jaunt but we made it. 

In the past I've met our first church service with such excitement and high energy, but this one I found myself collapsing into my chair telling myself to stay awake a little longer. I had no voice so I could not sing, but I was rather content to listen and clap along. It, again, made me to be thankful for times I did have a voice and was able to participate in worship. You don't realize how much you enjoy being able to partake with your voice until you aren't able.

We trudged on back to our little compound around 9pm and gathered our shower things and began did what we could to rinse the dirt out of our hair. I think I was tucked into my bed sometime around 10pm.

Devotions began at 6:45am Monday morning, and in my mind I thought I might sleep in til 6:30 in attempt to be fully rested for the first full day of clinics. But, the sun is well up in the air by 5am and it was around that time that most of my roommates were moving about readying for the day anyways. I suppose the only difficult thing about waking around5am is that the kitchen and access to coffee was not available until 7am. So it took a little effort to partake in human interaction in the hours before that. My voice 
was slowly coming back.. I sounded like a man..especially in the morning, but I was at least able to say words.

Our patients for Dentistry began to trickle in sometime around 8am. Now familiar with the process of prepping 

the surgical basket with tools and holding the light for the dentists, it was easy to find a rhythm. We were on our feet the whole time, but I didn't notice being tired until I was given a chance to sit down at lunch time.It was a good sort of tired. The kind one is extremely proud of and would wish for every day if it were possible.

There was only one very bad tooth extraction that I had to step out of.The top of the tooth had broken off when the doctor grasped it and the roots were very deep into her gum. The digging and the chiseling and the amount of blood and puss I watched our patient swallow got to me after a while. As there was no one to take over, I gagged and kept holding the light as that is all the situation would allow. By God's good graces, the part where I felt myself beginning to vomit was the exact moment one of our nurses came in to take pictures. When she noticed the tears streaming down my face from dry heaving, she immediately took over the light and allowed me to sit and drink water for a bit. 

And that is how our days in dentistry went. 122 patients, and over 130 teeth pulled. The hardest ones were the little children who screamed and wailed and cried and had to be sat on by their parents. But our conversations to distract us from the blood and tears were rich and wonderful.

On Monday we finished our last patient close to 6:45pm. The sun set at 6pm and that is also when supper was to have started as well. Since church was at 7pm, we hustled out of there quickly to freshen ourselves a little before heading to church. 

I think it must have been monday afternoon at some point that I sneaked out of the dentistry and practiced a little ukulele with the worship band. In church that night I got to play "allabre" with the band and it was wonderful. Like all of my dreams coming true. People were clapping along and it was wonderful! It was funny also, because I have sung with the band in the past and the pastor announced to everyone that I would be singing.. and  I had no voice. But the translator corrected him to let him know I'd simply be playing my ukulele. So much fun!

Showering at night time was also wonderful. It was after monday night's shower that I realized that my feet were just as bad coming out of the shower as when I'd gone in.. and then worse because my wet feet collected more dirt. But we gathered our feet together and thought of the Bible verse that goes " How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings, who proclaim salvation, who say to Zion "Your God Reigns!"" (Isaiah 52:7) 

We proudly admired our Nicaraguan tan lines... which were really just dirt lines from the constant blowing of dust all day. It became our theme verse in a way.. at least among those I conversed with and compared feet with..we kept telling each other, "Your feet are beautiful!" If water wasn't such a scarce commodity, I think I would have loved to do a foot washing at some point.. perhaps in a future trip we could offer that just for the sake of being literal as Jesus was. I washed my feet with a rag on Tuesday nigh and the rag wasn't the color it started. The rag became a dark brown and the dark brown did not come out when rinsed with water and rung out. I loved it, though. I loved to have dirty feet. I loved that my feet were blistered and bleeding and sore and tired. It was beautiful to me.