Just Jump

Her eyes widened dramatically. “What??” she said. “Yes, plans have changed,” I replied.

We took 33 ninth graders up to a small village in the mountains on a short term m-trip. Just two weeks earlier we had broken them up into groups and told them, “You will teach 7th or 8th graders for 50 minutes. Create the most creative, imaginative lesson you can think of. See you in two weeks!” My students went to work. Resolved to create the best possible lesson they could conjure, they toiled and poured their hearts and souls into the assignment.

We made it up to the village school and the students prepared to give their lessons. “Are we teaching 7th or 8th grade?” one girl begged to know. But plans had changed, as they often do. “Eleventh grade,” I said to her. Her eyes widened dramatically. “What??” she said. “Yes, plans have changed,” I replied. These ninth graders had already taught me so much, so even though the eleventh graders would be older than them, I had no doubt they would do a great job.

“You can do it,” I said, “I know you can.” “Ok,” she said, “we’ll do it.” I stood back and watched my students excel. Their lessons were creative. The students they taught were captivated. And most of all, they loved. They loved each other, they loved their new friends. I was beaming with pride and humbled to be called their teacher.

I think my eyes frequently widen when God puts a seemingly impossible task in front of me. “What??” I say. But just as I took pleasure in the courage of my students, I think God finds that same pleasure in us when we fearlessly jump into the seemingly impossible tasks He gives us.

I was brought back to memories of my 18th birthday. My best friend and I jumped out of an airplane. It’s counterintuitive. It doesn’t make sense. And it’s pretty scary. But once I jumped out of that plane, all of my fears were released. Peace swept over me. I was exhilarated. Ironically, no one ever dies from jumping out of an airplane. People who die while skydiving do so when they hit the ground, not when they are suspended in mid air. Strange, then, that I felt relieved while I was still in mid air, despite the fact that possible danger was still to come. But I had completed the step of faith that was required of me. I was in the hands of God now.

“How did you feel teaching students who were older than you?” I asked my ninth graders. “It was scary at first,” they said, “but it was really great!” God honors our leaps of faith. He joys in our risk-taking and our courage to try something counterintuitive. And then He carries us. We just have to jump.

These past two months have provided many opportunities for new experiences. Read about recent developments in The Nit-Grit: Smiles and Sweat, check out new photos on the photos page, and be sure to read through the full list of prayer requests on my prayer & praise page. Thank you so much for your prayers and support!

Irony and a Prayer Request

“The moment we recognize our complete weakness and our dependence upon Him will be the very moment that the Spirit of God will exhibit His power.” (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest) Oh how I bank on the truth of this statement.

Nothing can prepare you to live and lead across cultures. Before I moved here I did a lot of studying, including taking a grad class on leading cross-culturally, but I am finding the only way to learn how is to do it and fail. I am preparing my 9th grade class for a short term trip in a couple of weeks. We will be going to a school to teach in an area that was affected by a volcano eruption a couple of years ago. Like any short term trip, my hope and desire is that the students would be stretched and grown into stronger leaders.

As a part of our preparation this week I am doing an exercise in class that will aim to help them identify assumptions they have and experience a simulation of what it’s like to experience cross-cultural stress and intercultural communication. Even though the area we are going to is in the same country, every region of this country has different micro cultures, so I anticipate it will be a cross-cultural experience for everyone.

The ironic truth is this: I’m incredibly nervous about performing this simulation on Monday and its effectivity. Why? Because I myself am trying to communicate across cultures. As I prepare the simulation I am being reminded of my own assumptions: that the students will understand the rules of the game, that the students will follow the rules, that the students will participate. All of these are essential for the effectivity of the simulation. But I long ago learned that these things can’t be assumed. I know full well that I may show up on Monday and the room isn’t available, or some students are absent, or they don’t understand what I’m trying to communicate.

And so I find myself arriving at that moment Chambers talks about. I am of complete weakness. I have to depend on Him. He is the great interpretor. I can spend days preparing, but it is the Holy Spirit who does the teaching, not me. If I fail, I fail. But He does not fail.

Please pray for my class on Monday. Pray that the students would understand. Pray that the Holy Spirit will interpret. Pray that cultural and linguistic barriers would be eliminated. But most of all, pray for my students, that God would stir in them His dreams and desires.

Cultural 10K

It was a cultural experience to say the least. Some of my fellow American (or “bule”) friends and I decided to join our city in a local Marathon/10K race. We knew it would be different than any race we had run before, and we were not disappointed!

The pre-race entertainment was “Gamelan” or traditional music and dancing.

The race got underway nearly an hour late…”Asian time”. It was a fun race with lots of people there. Rather than bibs, we were given tank tops with our number screen printed on the shirt. This made everyone match…which is something people like to do a lot here! I also saw people running in all kinds of shoes, from cleats to casual shoes to bare feet and socks.

The 8 of us were pretty much the only non-Asians around. We definitely stood out. We finished the race and started to head home when a race official chased us. “Stop! You have to come back!” he said in broken English. We explained that we needed to go home but thanked him for his invitation. “No, you must come back!” He said. After quite a bit of coaxing we finally gave in and walked our way back toward the finish line. They sat us in fancy chairs covered in white table cloths and served us drinks. “Wait here,” they said. We waited, knowing full well that the only reason we sat there was because we were bule. 15 minutes later they lined us all up. A crowd gathered around us as they announced us and gave us gifts and awards. We proceeded to shake hands with some apparently important people. I felt as if the paparazzi were there with a line of people snapping photos.

But why? We did not win. For the locals from this region, it was a great honor to have white people participate in their race. It was a struggle for me as I couldn’t help but ask myself some difficult questions. Why do they see me as different from them? Or moreover, why do they not see themselves as highly as I see them? Why am I considered special due to the color of my skin?

I have to say, I was honored to stand next to a man in his 70s who ran the race. He was adorable, and so strong!

Needless to say, our photo ended up in the newspaper the next day:

"Bules participate in 10K race"

The Nit-Grit: Transitions

What’s in this edition:

s-village
teaching
language learning
moving forward
prayer requests

s-village

A quick update on S-village: we are sending one of our national partners to S-village for a couple of months to see if it would work for her to be a teacher there. Please pray for her as she makes the extreme transition (village life there is drastically different from city life here), and continue to pray that God would provide wisdom, discernment, and workers to send to this village. If you missed the last update, read about S-village here.

teaching

Teaching has been really fun over the last month as my students and I have gone through the books of Esther and Nehemiah and learned about what made them fantastic leaders. Recently, they were each assigned a character from the book of Esther and had to dress as their character and answer questions about what life was like for their character. Consequently, that day was my sister Joy’s birthday, so here is a short video of them in the costumes saying, “Happy Birthday Teacher Joy!”

We have spent the last few weeks preparing for a short term m-trip we are going to take to serve some schools and a mental hospital up in an area a couple of hours away. This area was affected by a volcano a couple of years ago. Please pray for the students as they prepare and that God would really work in them during the trip, opening their eyes to the immediate needs of the community around them.

I just finished teaching CPR and first aid this week and I am so proud of my students! They worked hard, studied hard, asked good questions, and are now equipped with basic CPR and first aid. It was a lot of fun for me too.

language learning

I have good news to report about language! Thank you all for your prayers. I finished formal study and will move to class just two times a week. I have truly felt God’s grace on me over just the past week or two as I have felt somewhat of a breakthrough. I’m not quite fluent but I think I’m flirting with fluency. I have been recently surprised at being able to completely understand people who just a month ago I could not even understand one word. Thanks again for the prayers, continue to pray for diligence and continued breakthroughs in eliminating language as a barrier to ministry with the wonderful people of this country.

One major blessing has been being a part of small group made up of nationals from a local church. It has brought me great joy to meet with them each week, pray, share and laugh together. This has also been a huge part of my language learning. This group is made up of people from different areas of the country who all live on this island, so we unite in a shared feeling of being outsiders in this culture yet at the same time one family in Christ.

moving forward

This month has been a month of transition and I am looking forward to the months ahead. I am currently house sitting for a family who is in the US and will be here for a few more weeks as I prepare to move into a dorm to help with our groundbreaking Teacher Training Program (read about it here). As teaching and language wrap up for this year I am really praying and thinking through what my specific role is going to look like over the next year in connection with our network of schools.

prayer requests

Here are the major prayer requests, visit my prayer & praise page to read more:

  • workers and wisdom for S-village
  • my 9th grade class’ short term m-trip
  • guidance for my specific role over the next year

Thank you for your prayers!

Sunday is Coming

I was 9 years old. It was Good Friday, and part of the day’s required activities included periodical Bible readings from the crucifixion story. I had heard the story dozens of times but it had never truly permeated my soul. I remember tears running down my face as my mom read the narrative of Christ’s gruesome crucifixion. Why did he have to die? Why did they kill him? New life had been brought to this story of old. I felt for the first time as if I were there. The intensity of the moment of Jesus’ death penetrated my heart. Even though I knew the end of the story, I was suddenly able to comprehend the emotion felt on that dreadful day. I sobbed. I grieved. An intense hunger for Sunday stirred within me. Please let it be true. Please, let him come back to life! But I would have to wait. Today is only Friday.

I can imagine how the disciples felt on Saturday. They awoke to life that had been shattered to pieces. Hope for salvation had died. Yesterday they shamelessly left everything to follow a man that was to save their people. Today that man was dead. People had accused them of craziness for their life of complete surrender, and it dawned on them that perhaps people were right. They hid in fear for their lives while grieving the loss of their leader. Life was chaotic and confusing. Questions. Doubts. Darkness. Hopelessness. This was not what they had signed up for. Jesus was supposed to lead them to new life, justice and victory. Now all that remained was loneliness and desolation.

Perhaps you have lived in this darkness. Perhaps you have experienced the pain of loss, the grief of separation, the blur of confusion, the vivid sting of hopelessness. Is today Saturday? Are you wandering in a desert of loneliness and hopelessness? Do you find yourself questioning what you desperately want to believe because circumstances don’t reconcile with the message of hope you have left everything to follow?

I wait with anticipation each year for celebratory Easter Sunday. I have great memories of waking early on Easter morning, dressing into my flowery blue and white dress with my favorite lacy socks and tiptoeing down the kitchen to indulge in my mom’s famous Ukrainian Easter Bread. Oh how I love Easter Sunday. Sunday’s joy is birthed in the wake of Saturday’s grief.

Today is Saturday. Grief and despair. But there is hope, Sunday is coming.

“…weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” Psalm 30:5

Not the First Time

I remember being 6 years old and loving applesauce–it was one of my favorite after school snacks. I distinctly remember one afternoon, dumping a pile of applesauce into a bowl and making my way over to the spice rack to add some cinnamon. I was still learning to read, and I remember deliberating with myself, “Does cinnamon have a y in it? No…yes…no…yes I’m pretty sure it does.” I unknowingly grabbed the cayenne pepper and generously dumped it on my applesauce. I excitedly plopped down in my chair and began to divulge in my afternoon treat, only to be rudely awakened by the sting of spice. Needless to say, I remembered how “cinnamon” was spelled from that day on.

I never lived that story down. I lived with a roommate my first two months here and morning oatmeal was something I found myself looking forward to. Upon moving into a dorm by myself I was sure to buy the ingredients for my morning oatmeal: oats, sugar, milk, and cinnamon. Yes, I know how to spell cinnamon. In English anyway. I found myself on the spice aisle staring at all of the dark brown spices unable to read the names printed in the local language. So I guessed. I came home, and gave it a taste. Tasted good to me! I enjoyed it in my oatmeal.

That was 6 months ago. Just yesterday I made waffles for some of my Asian friends (one of them liked hot sauce on their waffle!). Among the toppings I provided was this cinnamon I had bought 6 months ago that I had not finished using. An American friend joined us, saw the cinnamon and asked,

“What’s this?”
Stupid question, I thought. “Cinnamon,” I said.
“Oh,” she said, “it smells like nutmeg or something.”
“No, it’s cinnamon,” I assured her.

Today as I perused the spices in one of my friend’s cabinets, I noticed cinnamon on the shelf. I was taken aback as I noticed it had a different name than my cinnamon. I had done it again. What I had thought was cinnamon over these last 6 months was actually some special spice used for making Asian cake!

I Cannot Do This Alone

Dietrich Bonhoeffer (Germany/1906–1945)

O God, early in the morning I cry to you.
Help me to pray And to concentrate my thoughts on you;
I cannot do this alone.

In me there is darkness,
But with you there is light;
I am lonely, but you do not leave me;
I am feeble in heart, but with you there is help;
I am restless, but with you there is peace.
In me there is bitterness, but with you there is patience;
I do not understand your ways,
But you know the way for me. . . .

Restore me to liberty,
And enable me to live now
That I may answer before you and before men.
Lord, whatever this day may bring,
Your name be praised. Amen.

House, Tyndale (2009-12-17). Devotions for Lent (Kindle Locations 275-299). Tyndale House Publishers. Kindle Edition.

Is this Blessing?

I looked around at the 9 new teachers we have in town for our training this month. Many come from harsh living circumstances. Some had never been on an airplane before today. A few are no longer able to live with their families. Away from their lives and everything known for a month, they crowded into this tiny house together. Is this blessing?

I peered into the eyes of my tired, worn out students. Exhaustion seemed to consume their faces as they confronted the reality of final exams coming next week. With tests, papers and projects looming over their heads, they looked like they were ready to cave. Is this blessing?

I joined the huddle of my tired, sweaty, high school girls basketball team. I dug deep within myself to find one more encouraging speech to give after a series of losses at a tournament in our home gym. With tears running down their faces and exhaustion consuming their bodies I looked at them as I struggled to find the words to say. Is this blessing?

I saw it in slow motion. The precious 3 year old girl stumbled backwards, slamming her head on the concrete. An ocean of tears exploded out of her face as she made a mad dash for her mother. Is this blessing?

I comforted a friend as tears dampen her eyes as she details her broken relationship with her family. They are of the majority religion and have rejected her because of her claim to faith. Is this blessing?

The harsh sounds of machinery once again reverberated through my classroom as I attempted to teach my students. My fading voice was no competition against the hammering of nails and the buzzing of chainsaws. Is this blessing?

“…Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)

It’s not that being poor in spirit just brings blessing. No, being poor in spirit is the blessing.

Teachers being trained to transform their communities. Students exhausted because of the incredible education they are being given. Basketball players learning the meaning of perseverance and character (they turned out winning the tournament, by the way). A little girl with the loving arms of a mother eager to embrace her. The testimony of a woman completely committed to following Jesus. The sounds of construction reverberating through my classroom as a reminder that a new teacher training center is being built on our campus. Is this blessing? Yes. This is blessing.