Getting Outside

I’d forgotten... no, not totally forgotten, but had my senses dulled to the fact that I have missed being outside so much! Its true, I am here in PNG. Almost anything grows (sometimes even without being planted) and its never far to the “bush” (or jungle). Therefore, why should I be missing “outside” so much (other than an office job lately)? However, I’m a woman. Believe it or not, that has a bit to do with it. Like other places in the world, its not always safe for women to be out on their own. Here, I have a “plus” factor of being white, so I don’t exactly blend right in, but (instead) stand out (and almost glow). When I’m out in public (even in a group), I’m typically super alert. This level of alertness can really take it out of ya. (*Note to myself: Never become a wanted criminal.)

Though we have fences surrounding where we live, people are always walking by and can easily look in (if the blinds are open or if I’m outside in the front and some areas in the back of the property). One more time: white women attract attention here.

All of this to say that I got to be outside AND exploring places I haven’t yet been because of the running group. Emily and Steve (along with others, when they’re in country) have been running most Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I was in the middle school track team, ran a few times in college with friends, and did a Mud Run race during my time in Dallas, but I don’t really consider myself a “runner”. (Seriously, I don’t often find enjoyment with it.) Its always struggle with the “mind over matter” concept. I know I’ve got the strength in me, if I’d only push on with it.

Its like an argument going on in my head:
“Come on, I do zumba so this should be nothing.”
“But I don’t feel too great. What if I throw up or pass out?”
“Shut up. Just keep your breathing pace and you’ll be fine.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be pushing myself so fast. Shouldn’t I save up this energy for the end?”
“Don’t be such a wimp. Think of your brother. Its in your blood. He only goes fast or faster... so don’t stop.”
“...I can’t take it! It hurts so bad! I can’t do their pace, so why try? I’ll just walk really fast for a bit.”
“Don’t you dare stop!!!!  You know if you do its harder to run again!”
(Starts walking)
“I’m such a failure. A quitter. Worthless loser. Stupid.”
“Come on. Pretend you need to run from someone or maybe try to overtake the others. Go. Try again.”
(Starts running)
“Make up the distance. Its in your blood. Go. Yes! Push it! Think how ripped you’ll look! ...Done!”

Yep. That’s my mind. Through all this, when its done, I’m excited to go again. Running may help cardio and muscle, but if I can conquer my mind, I will be strong.  But back to my original topic...

I got some freedom outside! We ran around and through a golf course. At one point, I thought I smelled honeysuckle! It reminded me of home! And the beauty of the green grass, the ponds, the ocean, the trees... totally worth every second!

After stretching and convo, I filled up my water bottle, grabbed some crackers, put the tail gate down on the truck (that I parked in the back of my house where little to none can watch me), and enjoyed just being outside. Then came the screaming...

From the next yard over, a roaring commotion broke out. There were guys yelling, women and children screaming, and, from what I could gather, a fight going on. I couldn’t really see anything (since there are metal fences between the properties that aren’t see through), but noticed people on the street were heading closer to check out what was going on.  (Seriously, almost always someone around on the street.) I wondered if I should go inside, but didn’t feel in immediate danger. I prepped myself to move fast if necessary, but doubted they’d head over our fence rather than just run towards the street.

Things came to a halt soon enough and they began using their words to talk it out. It sounded like there was a mediator so when a voice would be raised, the mediator would calm them down again. My neighbor, Lori, who lives on the same property as I do (within the same gate) drove in and I told her what’d happened. She and I agreed that its “pasin bilong PNG” (or the way many here do things). People get so emotional so fast and lose it. No doubt anywhere we go, there will always be something people need to work on and improve.

Anyway, it died down and I went on inside. I’m still extremely blessed for my time outside. Getting to exercise does help people release stress, and those with whom I ran gave me many encouraging words. I can get pretty hard on myself (though when I’m trying to get through some things, I’d rather not have many words of encouragement for some reason), but they gave me these words after we were done, so I took them. I look forward to running with them as often as possible and eagerly anticipate kicking my butt (so it’ll... I mean “I” will look better as well as feel better too).

Picking Sides and Predicting Futures

When I was younger, I predicted the gender of all of my siblings.  It might’ve just been God humoring a little girl, but it was still cool to get a sister and two brothers after telling my mom that’s what was coming before each one.  I also tried to predict someone else’s baby and it didn’t work.  Thus, its not a perfected art or gift.  Still, it was cool that I could feel semi-confident in knowing some things before they happened.

In the same respect, I have now attended the three parties to watch the State of Origin rugby games (with the New South Wales Blues and the Queensland Maroons).  There are always three games, so whoever wins two out of three, wins.  On the first game, I rooted for the Blues.  They were the under dogs that hadn’t won against the Maroons in seven years …and so I dawned the blue face paint to cheer them on.  They won. 

However, I wanted to make an informed opinion about who to root for.  Thus, for the second game, I painted my face for the Maroons.  They won.  For the third game, I was a bit torn before the paint went on my face.  I had gone back and forth between the reasons I would cheer for each team.  I wanted the Blues to win because they hadn’t won the State of Origin in seven years.  I wanted the Maroons to win because they really worked well as a team and had a creative element in their plays.  In the end, I painted my face for both, but cheered for the Maroons.  They won.

It kind of makes me think.  In order to really be a fan, you root for your team no matter what, win or lose.  No changing sides.  This has merit and people are usually faithful to their team.  Faith and faithfulness are needed more in this world.  On the other hand, its cool seeing how things will probably pan out and therefore adjusting how we respond (even if that is changing where we’re standing). 

So here’s my points:  It may be beneficial to … 

1. Be aware of what’s going on.  Try to see patterns and motives so to act proactively, if possible

2. Be willing to change strategies, presuppositions, etc.  Flexibility is super important if you don’t want to break (think, a reed that’s bendable versus rigid).

 3. Roll with the punches.  We can’t predict everything so work with what you’ve got (like lemons into lemonade… or un-sweet tea into sweet tea… yum!)

4. Retain a fun spirit (don’t be so uptight and so let opportunities slip by.  Do something that brings you joy as well as sharing that joy with others!

5. Realize God’s presence and ability to make ANYTHING happen (and really, that’s the main thing here, but I saved the best for last).  He’s the one to talk to about whatever, so why not?  He's the ultimate future anyway, right?!

On the Scent

It always amazes me how certain smells can bring to mind related memories.  As I reflect on the day, I’m actually drawn to remember the smells I encountered.  Yep, I totally feel like that last sentence should link me in some way to canines (and maybe one day I’ll turn into a werewolf), but moving on...

Smell of Cucumber Melon:  I woke up and got ready as I usually do realizing that tonight was game 2 of the State of Origin rugby finals between the Maroons and Blues.  I rooted for Blues last time and so planned on rooting for Maroons tonight.  The reason:  the Blues won last time and there are three games played with the same teams.  If the Blues won tonight, the third game (which happens anyway as I’ve gathered) wouldn’t be as epic.  However, I still wanted to wear blue today, so I did.  I figured I could always change after work and get my face-paint on!  As the last of my morning prep came to a close, I stepped through a mist of cucumber melon fragrance (that always reminded me of the Hospital Guest House when one of the guests gave me her perfume of it). 

Smell of Tuna:  The next thing I did was feed the dogs and did a bit of training with it.  I mix the dry dog food with tuna and make them wait until I say “okay” to eat it.  They usually look like they’re smiling, but when they know I’m about to let them eat, they get the cutest, serious-look on their faces.  I love it and it makes me chuckle at times.  Tuna reminded me of sharing it with the guys from Baitabu that showed us half of the way back to Nobnob (on the last day and hike of our 3-day hike).

Smell of Coffee and Tea:  Delaina and I made it into the office.  I usually put my things at my desk, get settled, and head for the coffee.  Since I’ve been sick, I headed, instead, to the tea.  It was so tempting to get coffee, but I knew there would be a time to drink it again later (when I can truly enjoy it more).  The tea reminded me of Megan B (a friend I met in Dallas) who would share different teas with me very often and really got me liking them lots.  The coffee reminded me of my Dad (who would drink it at church and got me loving the aroma, even after I tried super cold coffee for my first try---yuck).  Anyway, I grabbed my tea and worked as it cooled. 

Smell of Chlorine:  Diane and I had to pick up four plastic containers to put Elementary Prep materials in (for the course coming up--- for 4 language groups).  On the way, I smelled chlorine and was taking back to Fishery Park and the feel of summer on my skin.  Though I was loving the memory, I had to snap out of it since we were walking down the busy street (where its best to keep sharper awareness).  We got what we were looking for, paid, and walked back to the office.  I hadn’t been in those stores and down that street in far too long.  It made me happy to have everything within walking distance while at the office. 

Smell of Death:  I continued working, took my reading and lunch break, still worked on curriculum and books, ran to another store with Kathy to grab some supplies, had a piece of cake from a celebrated birthday, and rode home with Delaina.  We were talking when we were staggered by a nearby smell of rot and decay.  Something dead.  I followed it to a trash can and surmised that it must be the dead cat that Ishmael had found on Monday (courtesy of dogs that apparently didn’t like a skeletal cat coming onto the premises).  We’d seen him carrying it by the tail and I’d thought he’d bury or burn it.  Apparently not.  Almost four days after its terrible demise and there was no way I was opening that trash can lid to see the decay process.  I had, thankfully, deducted that it was there and could only imagine how many flies would head my way if I opened up that “can-of-worms”.  Blah!  (Though I wasn’t there, my mind raced to what the people were thinking when Jesus said to open Lazarus’s tomb.  No way!  He’s gonna stink and there’s no way I want to even imagine -with smell or sight- what he looks like now!)  Its safe to say that Delaina and I moved away very shortly after our discovery. 

Smell of Apples:  I went into my house and somewhat unpacked from the day.  I’d bought three green apples while at the store (since I’m sick and want to keep the doctors away).  I picked one up and breathed in a few whiffs.  It took me back to when I was in college (or actually whatever period of time I was in) and got an apple.  I would spend a bit of time just smelling the fruit before sinking my teeth in.  It was the smell of crispness.  Freshness.  Lusciousness.  It took me to Autumn.  To the colored leaves crackling under foot.  To the Apple Festival where so many people would gather to enjoy the presence of others and the good fruits of Fall.  To climbing out hill up to the old apple tree and looking out on the mountains.  No wonder I would smell them for so long before even tasting the juicy flavor.  Yes, of all the scents I have experienced, it is in the top three (along with Autumn as first and school supplies and a freshly mowed lawn tied for third). I did end up eating it.

Smell of Banana, Chocolate, and Pumpkin:  After eating my apple, I got ready and painted up to go to the State of Origin party.  Before the game started, we had some games on the XBox and then the pie broke out!  There was pumpkin pie, coconut pie, banana cream pie, and chocolate pie!  (Pie honestly reminds me of church fellowship meals, Thanksgiving, and the first “Pie Supper” that I attended here in PNG.)  I had a few slices of three out of the four pies and cheered on the maroons.  They won!!!  What, what!!!!??!!!  It was a fun night.  Now, all I’ve got to do it figure out who to root for on the third game!

Smell of smoke:  I went back to the apartment and washed off the makeup from the game.  I did my usual routine before going to bed and then lit a candle as I turned off the light.  It flickered as I talked to God.  Lighting a candle each night before going to bed has helped me fall asleep better since the break in.  I even blew out the candle before totally drifting off to sleep.  As the tiny stream of smoke curled upwards, I drifted off to sleep in the peace that God knows what He’s doing, is watching over me, and gave me my senses to respond to life around me. 

Break In

I awoke around 4am, shushing the dogs.  Things felt odd.  The dogs weren’t barking where they usually barked, footsteps had sounded closer than usual, and a neighbor’s pounding on the wall (to hush the dogs) was louder and on the wrong side of my flat.  I decided to get up and look out of my window.  I saw three guys at my front living room door who were trying to break in.  I said, “Ah!  Yupela mekim wanem samting?!  Yu no ken stap!  Yu go!”  (In other words, “What are you doing?  Get out of here!”)  I hit the alarm button behind my bed, grabbed my cell phone, and headed for the bathroom.  As the alarm sounded, I heard the door break down and hurrying feet.

Bethaney, the neighbor who, in fact, hadn’t been pounding on the wall, called me and I told her what had happened.  She suggested turning on all the lights I could.  I ventured out of the bathroom (since I was pretty sure that they’d ran away because of the alarm, plus I didn’t hear any movement before opening each door).  As I turned on every light in the house, I saw that the inside door was lying on the floor of the living room and that my purse and backpack had been taken.  (Praise God that they didn’t see my computer under a pillow on the table.)

Bethaney called her dad, William, as I kept the alarm sounding, grabbed my bush knife, and barricaded myself once again in the bathroom (should the rascals decide to come back).  I stayed in there until Bethaney called me back and William arrived.  I turned the alarm off, and Bethaney and William stayed with me.  Bethaney called Emily.  Emily came with two police and I told them what I knew.  The song I kept thinking of was “...everybody was kung fu fighting...” and I was also glad that the dogs were alright.

Once the sun rose, the police were taken back to the station and the rest of us waited for the CID (Criminal Investigation Dept) to come.  I made coffee, tea, and toast with cream cheese for those who wanted some and made a list of the items in my purse and backpack (with estimated amounts of each item).  Tyler came with the workmen to help work on the doors after the CID dusted for fingerprints.  The CID couldn’t get good fingerprints, but found the method in which the robbers came to my house.  Both the police and the CID were very sweet in how they helped us out as was everyone I work with that provided encouragement, prayers, hugs, or any assistance. 

I went to the office to skype with my family so I could update them on the situation more personally.  It was encouraging to see and talk to them.  Mom urged me to allow myself time to process what happened and release the stress from the experience.  It was good to hear that it was okay to “break down” (cry) about it.  I hate crying (especially in the presence of others) so I hadn’t yet.  I knew the logic of processing things and crying, but it was still good to hear.  It was great to get an update from my Dad and from my Sister and her fiance too. 

While I was at the office, I got more hugs and a package from one of my friends!  I was extremely tired so I headed home.  Tyler and the workmen were hard at work on the doors, so I went into my room, looked into my package, and tried to rest a bit.  I later went into my bathroom and had a bit of a cry which helped as a release.

That night, there was a get-together to play a few games on an XBox.  That also helped to channel some energy, though I probably did the boxing game with a bit too much intensity (super sore).  When I went back home, I got ready for bed and slept well through the night except for when a few dogs decided to bark incessantly. 

I praise God for my safety, for the sweet people willing to help me, for my computer not being seen, and good rest.  So many things could’ve happened differently, but they didn’t.  God was still watching out for me and will continue to do so.  I write all of this to praise Him, to inform others that I am alright, and to encourage others to take precautions to prevent or deal with things like this. 

Months ago, I read a book entitled, “You Hit Like a Girl”.  Its slightly dated, but it has value.  I had thought through possible situations and decided what the best course of action would be in each case.  Of course, no one can plan for every possible scenario, but I had practiced (in my mind) what I would say, what I would do, what I would grab, and where the most secure location was.  If possible, do this in your home, workplace, and be vigilant wherever you go.  When stressful times come, its good to just do what has been thought through rather than have to think about it in the moment.

If you have any questions, let me know and I shall do my best to answer them.  Through all of this, it heightens my awareness of the many blessings God sends my way each day as well as renews my passion for the work I’m doing here.  I’m always happy to send annoyances (at the least) in the enemy’s direction.  I must be doing something right... right?!  ;)

What are We and Who are We Fighting

In the movie “Sherlock Holmes, A Game of Shadows”, the antagonist, Professor Moriarty states that there is a subconscious hunger for conflict.  Thoughts might come to mind of fist fights, war, or perhaps even the stress felt between two people that don’t agree. One out of the three can’t really be seen, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t there.  The other two, can be viewed more easily with our eyes. 

I was reading a small devotional page the other day and didn’t really know how to take it.  It talked about how much suffering this one guy went through because of converting from Islam to Christianity.  It said that we (most likely), in America wouldn’t go through as much persecution as he did.  Instead, we may feel, at most, like a social outcast in some settings.  However, the part I didn’t really like was this, and I quote:  “Do we wear our cross where someone can see it?  Do we pray where someone might see or hear us?  Do we refuse to laugh at inappropriate jokes?”

It was almost like these things signify if one is a Christian or not.  These things are good, but they’re not the core of what a “Christian” is.  Once again, they were onto something and then missed the target, as so many do.  As I seem to do often, as well. 

Ephesians 6:12 says, “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but...against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”  Many fights that we encounter will (most likely) not be seen out in the open, but will be in our very minds.  Just how, in the movie, Sherlock fought with Moriarty first and foremost in his mind.  The enemy attacks as many ways as he can.  He’s not an idiot and will use thoughts if he can.

So what then?  Is it impossible to tell who’s a Christian if so much goes on inwardly?  Surely not.  Fruit must be produced, and then inspected.  Honestly, I’m not great at telling what tree bears whatever fruit, but I can kinda tell when a fruit starts to go bad.  For other fruits, as a non-expert fruit-checker, I taste and then realize its not a good thing to eat.  Eventually, the good and bad kinds of fruit should reveal themselves. 

There are times that I’ve felt like I must “put on a show” so people don’t see the conflict happening inside me.  (“Show” good fruit, even if I’m going a little sour or rotten inside.)  I guess there’s this pattern that we (Christians) want to convey that we’re “good enough” Christians who don’t have issues or struggles (like a “Who’s-the-best-Christian” contest).  Maybe we use the excuse of other people who look at Christians and only see messed up people; and, therefore, figure that our God isn’t big enough to help us with our messes.  Whatever the case, we lie to ourselves and to others when we mask everything up. 

One night, there was a storm.  I heard a little kid crying, and then, I started hearing “Old MacDonald had a farm, ei ay ei ay o...”  It sounded like the dad was leading it and then the whole family started singing.  The kid calmed down and wasn’t scared anymore.  This isn’t the first time I’ve heard this here in PNG (and not the only family to sing at crazy times to quite a kid either).  It made me think of family (and I missed mine a bit that night).

When I think of “family”, I think of bonds stronger than normal relationships.  Bonds through our very blood and genes.  Each of my family members are very different and distinct (though we all look similar and have the same background).  We don’t always agree, but we’re family.  We love each other, even through annoying, frustrating times. 

What I’m trying to say is that we, as Christians, have been adopted... or rather had a blood transfusion from Jesus that’s made our relationship run deep.  We’re family and though we may not agree entirely and sometimes have conflict, we must remember who we’re really fighting against.  Its not each other, but is the sinful nature that threatens our hope that we have found (in Christ Jesus).  Often these conflicts can start small, and as a very brilliant friend once told me, “chaffing is the enemy”. 

On a ship, you realize when the mast falls over.  Its kind of a big deal and everyone can see it.  However, chaffing (the rubbing and chiseling and breaking down little by little) no one seems to notice or deal with it until its too late and you’re sinking. 

“Let us,therefore, love one another” and be united in order to stand against the real enemy and bear much (good) fruit for our Creator, Lord, and Father.  Let us let go of what doesn’t matter, and deal with what may become an issue (before it does).  Let us be a “work-in-progress” as God continues to shape us into His beautiful creation, and fight the temptation to hide what’s going on inside.  (*And a small note to some who might need it, let us also not constantly spill forth our issues in order to get attention, but deal with them and move on.)

Sum up:  Unity, Forgiveness, Love, and also Praise to God in and through our lives.

Jewels and Crowns

I was recently commended for doing the work I’m in and trusting God in order to do this work (being a missionary).  During this, I was reminded that I will have lots of jewels in my crown when I get to Heaven.  I just kept thinking, “That’s not really my motivation.”  The next thing that came to mind was laying my crown at Jesus’ feet.  I want the crown I give to be worth something and pretty for Him.  That’s my motivation.  God has given me true life and meaning.  I’m not one to really do things “only” for me.  The one exception is when I learn/study in order to become better at something (and usually that’s to serve others better). 

Now, I’m not trying to build myself up in others eyes by writing this.  I just thought I would share something I realized and really appreciate.  I want to give God a life lived with purpose and praise for Him.  Em tasol (or translated, “that’s it”).

What's your motivation for what you do?

Step Up and Ride

Its been a while.  Quite a bit has changed since I last wrote in April.  For one, I'm in Papua New Guinea.  Yep.  I'm finally here.  I've kept up with writing a newsletter either every month or every other month.  For anyone wanting to catch up on what has happened within the past seven-ish months, let me know and I'll send you my newsletters through email. 

I'm working in Madang now with PBT (Pioneer Bible Translators) and am loving it!  I trained in POC (Pacific Orientation Course) for 14 weeks (or around 3 months), took a week break up at Ukarumpa (in the highlands), and am back in the lowlands (Madang). 

There are so many wonderful people here.  I'm hoping that I can really step up to the challenge of what lies before me.  God has been bringing people and situations together for literacy to happen in a big way, and I get to be here to see what's taking place.  A few main people who have been working on this (in order to help things come together) will be leaving within the next year and I'll be the one to pick this up and run with it.  I'm praying for the courage and strength from God in order to do this effectively. 

When I got here after my training and week break, I started getting oriented, but got the chance to jump right in and helped with a curriculum course.  It was awesome, but I'm still in the process of finishing the orientation process.  I'll get there some time. 

As of now, I'm learning how to drive stick-shift and thinking about getting a motorcycle (something like this picture...).  We'll see what happens.  So lets see if I can step it up and take a ride.  This is the land of the unexpected, ya know.