Not so Impressive Impressions

After a month and a half as a resident at Homes of Hope in Fiji, I have a few initial impressions. More than likely, these first impressions will reshape themselves to a more mature view of my surroundings. Yet, nonetheless, I find them absorbing.

Impression #1: Air-condition Anyone?
Seriously, how humid can a climate be? And when is winter?


Impression #2: That is the Biggest Bug I have EVER Seen!
I think this was my third week when I decided to move the suitcase in my house that has been functioning as my living room-clutter-catchall. Lo’ and behold, I move said suitcase and a centipede that is about 10 inches long runs from underneath the suitcase-straight toward me. I confess I danced and screamed like a sissy, which incited Godzilla to run toward my bedroom. As I chased the critter down with my water bottle, (the only object I had time to snag as the sucker boogied away) all I could think was, “You had better stay away from my bed!” And it did…it went into my broom closet, where I have yet to unearth the monster.


Impression #3: Dinner is Not for You!

No way. Really? Is that lizard seriously going to try and eat my soup? With me sitting right here?









Impression #4: I Have Friends!
How welcome I have felt meeting and getting to know Homes of Hope’s mums (These mums are the ladies who reside at Homes of Hope with their little ones). It has been easy to get to work. In fact my greatest difficulty has been in working too much and forgetting that I am still adjusting to a new culture, climate, and habits.


Impression #5: Hello McDonalds. You are my New Favorite Restaurant.
I will never again underestimate the simple pleasure of a taste of home…even when that “taste of home” is a cheeseburger from McDonalds, the much scorned bad-food joint in the U.S. Oh, man, that first bite into my cheeseburger…ahhhhhhh. Beauty.

You keen to come visit me yet?
:-) By the way, I named the lizard Mojo.

Bula!

Bula! This is “Hello” in Fijian, and so I greet you from across the ocean.

I am about half way through my third week here at Homes of Hope, and I am settling in well. While my time here has not been without its bumps-among which is spotty internet connection, illness, and the requisite home sickness-but as far as “bumps” go, they have been small and so surmountable.


My tasks thus far have been to settle in to my new role here, get to know the residents on campus (some 30 young mothers and their little ones). However, for now, I must tell you about one:

I had the opportunity to visit Homes of Hope in Fiji during the summer of 2009. While here I met a new resident, a young girl all of 14 years of age. This girl, whom I’ll call Nal, (to protect Nal, her true name is not given) had been sold by her family to a man 30 years her senior in order to pay for her family’s groceries.

At the time I first met Nal, she had a new baby boy fathered by the man whom purchased her. Nal was a belligerent, rude, and stubborn teenage girl. Yet, after watching Nal for a brief time it was plain to see that the anger Nal cloaked herself in was worn to protect herself from further betrayal and pain. I left that summer not liking this woman-child, yet understanding that her attitude and behavior was purely a posture of defense.

Today, Nal is still at Homes of Hope and she is 16; her little boy is 2. And the change in her! The angry, cantankerous, terrified girl is now a leader, setting an example and guiding other young girls who come to the campus. Nal smiles now. Yesterday I heard her laugh. Her eyes no longer scale people, searching, measuring them as if to see what gain they may bring her or if they pose a risk. Nal is changed. Nal has hope. Nal has a future.

This has been the very best welcome.

I'm Leaving on a Jet Plane...

This up-date took way too long for me to get up on the blog, so I apologize. Allow me the excuse of how terrifically busy and joyful this Christmas season has been for me.

The New Year has truly heralded a time of great change and adjustment for me. As of this evening of January 11, 2011 I am 5 days away from departure to Fiji for 3 years. The next time you read a new post from me I will be writing to you from Homes of Hope in Fiji 5,000 miles around the globe, 19 hours ahead of you on the clock, and in the midst of a wet summer in the South Pacific. Bring it!

If you are so inclined, will you pray for me?
Please pray…
• That I and my luggage arrive safely in Fiji on the morning of January 18th
• That I remain in Christ during this time of transition
• That my momma is sustained and conscious of the arms of God wrapping her up as our lives change once again


Thank you!

Arrested: Beautifully Engaged

Hey Folks! I am recently back from missionary training in Colorado…talk about 5 Weeks of “wow!” Surprisingly, this training focused in on the heart of the participant (Missionaries heading to all corners of the globe).
Topics of discussion and study ranged from conflict styles, spiritual growth, emotional wellbeing, grief, etc. The training was filled to the brim with topics designed to make us Western missionaries think in a different way.

What changed my life:

1) Conflict: I know I am a consummate avoider of conflict. Yet, like most of us, I have never been challenged with the damage my confrontation style generates. I have new tools now. This is Good.


2) Grieving: For some reason, while I emote in a blog, I am forever hiding any demonstrative grief about leaving my family, friends, home, and country for strangers and Fiji. While in training I, along with my comrades, had an opportunity to explore the grief, fear, expectations, and tears that sit in our gut. Now, ask me how I feel about leaving. I will tell you I am excited…but never have I been more uncomfortable in my life. I am filled with anxiety that I keep handing to God because I am tired of it; this anxious feeling is heavy. Good thing my Papa-God’s shoulders are wide. This is Very Good.


3) Community: Few will receive the privilege God has granted me. For 5 weeks I lived with, cried with, laughed, became upset with, and spent veritably every blithering waking moment with 40 individuals who come from all walks of life. Enter men and women, young and old, single and married who have vastly different styles of worship and theological preferences; whom all love Jesus with desperation. Oh, the wisdom! Oh the stories of experience and heartbreak and change.

Oh, my Jesus, the beauty of dirty prisoners robed in Your righteousness. And they go all over with a message: Jesus saves. They will feed, bring water, create business, raise children, run camps, teach, rescue the molested. Live and live and live. What stunning Good. So Good.

And so I am home. For Now.

What now? I get to wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Good to know that God is good to those who wait on Him, whom seek Him .Lamentations 3:25

Okay, waxing poetic is complete :-) I am waiting on a call from my sending agency that says I am 100% funded for the funds I need to live. I am about $200 shy of what I need. Once I have this last $200 a month coming in I can buy my plane ticket and leave.

Fears, Anxieties, and Audacity.

I and my thin Phoenix-blood have been calling Palmer Lake, near Colorado Springs home for nearly two weeks now, and will yet be calling this town home for three and a half more.

I am here with 39 other missionaries attending a program bent on preparing us for the mission field. A heavy task this is. Instead of boring you with details of what I am learning here, allow me to share my mind.

Fear. I am fearful. I cannot explain the inner turmoil, the paradox of the excitement and joy of leaving overseas soon, a date that is so near, to the disquiet of leaving my family that has been such a necessary unit for the past year and a half. I am fearful in leaving my steadfast and stalwart support system of mentors and friends. Leaving what is common and safe and known for a place where I have no friends, little knowledge and confidence. God help me; I am scared.

Anxiety. I am anxious for the loneliness I believe will come with leaving such dear ones in the US. Who will call me when I am gone? Who can I vent frustrations to when my day is done? Who is going to celebrate the joys with me? Who will read my face and know when I am upset, simply because they know me well? Who will hold and hug me? Who will laugh with me? God help me; I am anxious.

Audacity. Who am I that I am this audacious to believe I can help, understand, live with, and not be torn asunder by the lives and stories of the women and children I will come to love? I am comfortable with the concept that it is my Jesus who must do the work, but am I able to step aside and be an instrument for Him whom heals? God help me; I am bold without any right to be.

And so I sit in this passage:

God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
He's all I've got left.

God proves to be good to the one who passionately waits,
to the one who diligently seeks.
It's a good thing to quietly hope,
quietly hope for help from God.

Lamentations 3:22-26a [The Message]

America's Hidden Sex Slaves

Hi friends…I thought I would share this news article with you. Many of us in the West, while knowing about prostitution, are misguided by the notion that Human Trafficking, and in particular, Sex Trafficking is a problem found in 3rd world nations. Read an excerpt from The New York Times article by Nicholas Kristof found in The Week magazine…

Mention America’s “sex-trafficking” industry and most people think of foreign women smuggled into the country, said Nickolas Kristof. In fact, many sex slaves are “homegrown runaway kids.” Just last month, police in Laurel Md., freed 12-year-old girl who’d been imprisoned by a 42 –year-old man who was pimping her out from Washington D.C., to Atlantic City. Two days later, police discovered three other young women being held under threat of death at a motel a block away. So how widespread is this horror?

Thousands of underage American girls are involved in prostitution here; the typical case involves a terrified runaway who is picked up at a bus or train station by a pimp, who often offers her a meal, a place to stay, and convinces her he loves her. “The next thing she knows, she’s having sex with four men a night and all the money is going to her ‘boyfriend.’”

Due to a mix of fear, hopelessness, and “shattered self-esteem,” the girls don’t run away, and law enforcement does not consider them a top priority. Until cops get serious about arresting both pimps and johns, more young girls will become chattel in this distinctly American form of “21st-century slavery.”

I "Heart" Updates...

At the moment I am a hair’s-breadth from being fully funded. At most, all I need is about $100-$150 more a month to be fully funded.

So, here are my up and coming plans:
-My mom, brother (Peter), and myself will take a last-hurrah vacation in October to simply enjoy each other. Then on the 18th of October I will report to Colorado Springs for 5 weeks of missions training.

-Upon completing this training I believe I will be fully funded and able to buy a plane ticket to Fiji.
Enter dilemma Number One: To leave before Christmas or to leave after Christmas; I have not quite decided which I will choose. I will wait and see and make a decision as the time draws nearer.
Regardless, by the 1st of the year it is my hope to be in Fiji or in-route.

-My Visa or Permit to Reside in Fiji is on its way-thus making my 3 year temporary residence in the Fiji Islands a shoe-in. Rock on!