Memory

When I was a little girl I called my lower girl parts my tushy. Most people refer to the behind in this way. Imagine my surprise when one day my Aunt said she would spank my tushy!

Reflecting on this, I can't stop laughing.

What I have learned...

As I continue to wait for either an acceptance or rejection from LPTS; I have time on my hands to get a little anxious. My head takes me all over the place. Really, I mean it, from jobs, to bed spreads, to childcare, to Christmas. It is enough to make me go crazy. However I am trying really hard to just let it all go, after all I can not do a single thing until I have an answer then I can prepare for whatever comes next.

Here are some positive things I have found myself reflecting on. I have found since my birthday, there are some good things coming to me at this age. I am certain it has nothing to do with age at all really, but I will take note that it is happening for me at this age which is easing the pain just a little. I am really comfortable being me. I know that seems like how it should be all the time but it isn't how we are wired. We live in a world where we are constantly comparing ourselves to others. Even the way we speak says this about us, it is obvious through choice of words and tone if you feel like you are above or below someone else. That being said, it is hard to stop comparing and stop living up to other people's expectations.

Maybe I should share some examples, we visited dear friends this weekend. Normally when we leave from visiting them, I am very insecure about my parenting abilities. I would like to point out that this is not an insult to my friends. They are doing an amazing job with their daughters. I really respect the hard work they are doing in order to raise their children well. That is probably why I usually feel like I am doing something wrong when we part ways. However this time I was better with it. I felt confident in my abilities. My only real comparison thought was that I didn't have professional portraits done sooner with our daughter. That's pretty huge for me. Another example, I read blogs that are just brimming with commentary on theology. I get theology, actually I rather enjoy studying it. I found my thoughts wandering the other day to, I wish I wrote like this. Then the next thought, no I don't. That's not my role in theology. I am more of a hands on kind of girl. I like to be out there doing things because of my theology. Then I reflect on them. My writing is directly related to actions. I know it's different and it might not get my voice heard but that is my role. My role isn't academic reflection (although my life choices considered I will have to academically reflect). What I am saying is I am a doer and then a thinker, not a thinker and then a doer. Both by the way are important roles to have in God's kingdom.

I don't own a house, I am no where near owning a house. Right now though I am so glad I don't own a house, it gives me a lot more freedom. I just had to get past the fact that everyone in our go go go buy buy and buy some more consumerist society will likely take one look at my lack of home owner ship and count it against me. That's OK. I know this works for me, for now.

There is so much freedom to be found in accepting your most authentic self. Somehow over the past few weeks I have really been able to be in tune with what makes me, me. It is pretty awesome.

I think it is when we realize that we are simply mortal; we begin the search for meaning. If we are open to it, I believe we find God. Mortality is always there in the back of the mind like a faint bell off in the distance; once you hear it, it never goes away. When we are consumed by fear of the end rather than God's love, it gets ugly.

That was my train of thought this morning as I read a couple of blogs and thought to myself what sets people of faith apart. I should note that you can define God however you choice, it doesn't have to be the God I know.

Internet

The internet has brought us a lot of ease in our lives. We can keep in touch with friends. Social networking, need I say more. Online bill pay. Google to find simple answers. Maps. Phone numbers. The list goes on and on and on.

It also however provides a way to be anonymously mean and angry. This is what I don't like about the internet. It often gives forums to people to say anything thing they want. Things I don't think they would say with out the safe shield of the computer screen. Let's be honest who hasn't said something in a chat or e-mail that they wouldn't say in person? Even the best of us have done it.

There in lies the problem. Now I know I am going to get some slack for this example but whatever we all have guilty pleasures. I enjoy watching the show 19 kids and counting, featuring the Duggar family. I do not agree with them on many things. If you know me you know the fact that I wore a dress to my own wedding was a stretch for me. I cut my hair regularly. I have NO desire to have 19 children. Politically and religiously we are on opposite ends of the spectrum. Yet I am fascinated by the logistics it takes to "run" a family of this size. So a week ago I googled a recipe that I thought I may have seen on their show (I couldn't remember where I saw it.) I found whole pages and blogs dedicated to hating this family. This family who these people have never met. While I understand putting yourself out there you are going to get critics, this just seemed so well mean. First of all who has time on their hands to dedicate whole web pages to this? Second would this happen if there was no internet? People would just be like that is ridiculous maybe send some hate mail or CHANGE THE CHANEL.

The problem is it's not just celebrity and reality TV types this is happening to. Watch the news and see all the teenagers taking their own lives because of online bullying.

The problem is two part really have you ever met someone who takes everything that happens on the internet way too seriously? I have. Sometimes you want to say it's the internet, not real life. I have been guilty of this myself. Then the things people say that are so well just plain mean. The non-editing because of the anonymity is dangerous.

There is also the illusion of knowing someone. You read a blog, friend them on facebook or follow them on twitter where they tell you what they ate for lunch. You begin to feel like you know them but you have never even had a conversation with them. This is especially dangerous for younger folks I think.

Lastly, my favorite, people who believe everything they read on the internet is true. I could create a website teaching how the sky is actually red and people might believe it because it is on the web.


It's a dangerous cocktail. All too often becoming toxic.

Just a reflection. Your thoughts encouraged.

Paul and Peanut Butter

My dear Paul loves peanut butter. He probably eats it once a day. We buy the jumbo two packs from Costco because he goes through it quickly. He likes to put it on toast, crackers and once in a while I catch him just eating a little spoonful of it. Sometimes I hear him and I yell from the other room stop snitching the peanut butter. It has become kind of a joke around here. I tell him he is going to give some one with a peanut allergy a reaction because it is going to come out of his pores soon.

Anyhow what I find more amusing than his actual peanut butter consumption is how precise he is with taking it out of the jar. I took some pictures which hardly to it justice but you will get the idea. As you can see there is clearly no peanut butter waste in our house!

Changes

Last week I finished my application for Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary (LPTS). It was a process to get done but it is done. Now I wait. Then I wait some more. This is all the norm when one sends an application to a school. I did check when we visited, they do work on rolling admissions so I do not have to wait until February or March to know if I have been accepted. However I don't know when word will come. It is a little nerve wracking. It brings up so many thoughts, mostly about moving.

I wanted to say though that I am starting to feel like myself again. I am feeling like I am going somewhere. That feels much better than the past two years where I felt kind of stuck. I have grand visions for the future. I guess I didn't know how much of a funk I was in until I came out of it. It feels good to be back.

I didn't plan on falling in love...

Me with Sweet Mirembe July 2008

Two years ago, when I lived my dream of traveling to Africa, I knew my heart would break while there. I was prepared as one can be for the broken heart that comes with a trip to Africa. I have said it before, but just in case you missed it. Africa takes a piece of you when you go there. What I didn't plan on was falling in love with a little girl who was dying. When I say falling in love I mean it. I can explain it no other way than it was of God. From the moment we met my heart was hers. It didn't hurt that her name means peace. The word I have tattooed on my foot.

My sweet Mirembe was just 4 years old then. She had just come into the home where we were staying, adopted by our friends Caleb and Rhita. My understanding is that she had been abandoned by her parents because she had sickle cell anemia. That hasn't stopped Caleb and Rhita from loving her. Mirembe and I couldn't communicate with each other verbally as she only understood a tribal language. She had a beautiful little head with shave hair. He eyes were beautiful but they held a wisdom I have never seen in such a young child. Her body was small for four I think even by African standards. To me she looked to be somewhere between 18 months and 2.

I tried to play with her all week. I bought her a little stuffed toy in the market because African children do not have toys. Sunday afternoon though I had the chance to spend the whole afternoon playing with her. Near the end of the day, I was hiding behind the couch and popping out at her, after about four times of this she let out this belly laugh. Laughter translates through any language barrier, just like the baby's cries I wrote about on the Africa blog. In that moment, we were in a thin place where we understood each other. Rhita came running from the kitchen, Becca you made her laugh. She hasn't laughed yet. It was a simple moment of joy for me the Mzungu lady from afar and this scared little girl in a brand new place.

Mirembe a few months ago.

I get updates about Mirembe regularly. I call her my African baby. It has been a roller coaster of emotions as she gets ill and recovers. Today we received word that Mirembe has taken a bad turn again. She has become paralized on her left side, she is also loosing her vision in her left eye and can only take liquids. She has had a CT Scan and it seems her brain is covered in lesions. I don't understand what this means. It seems though the the pairing of the words brain and lesion can't be good. I started sobbing and shaking as soon as I read the e-mail. I also tear up but this is not my normal reaction. I told Paul I needed to take a shower so Lilia didn't see me all upset. When I said my African baby is sick he knew what I meant. I sobbed so hard in the shower. It felt like I was punched in the gut. I got out and I still wasn't done, I was whimpering. I felt all shaky. I had to take a few minutes to calm myself down. That is why I am here writing.


Two years and an ocean apart this little girls still has my heart. She taught be something about myself. When I met her, Paul and I were starting to accept that we most likely wouldn't have a biological child. The moment I saw Mirembe I knew I could love a child with a deep motherly love no matter how they came into the world. If she hadn't already been adopted and it weren't for those pesky legalities, I probably would have brought her with me. I have always had a gift of loving children and understanding them. At that moment though I knew that adopted children were in my future because I was aware of the depth of love in my soul. I have in some ways adopted Mirembe at least in my heart.

I can tell you this all was nothing less than being of God. Her laugh stays with me, her eyes cut through me. Her love quiets my soul. I don't know if she remembers me but I will never forget her.

Mirembe today.

Please join me in lifting her up to God today as well as Caleb and Rhita.


Addition:
I should add that in keeping with the original intention of gratitude on this blog. I am so grateful for our week together. Even more so for our Sunday afternoon and that moment of laughter. Some of the most precious moments of my life.