cuteness just for you

In case you didn't know about the amazing cuteness I encounter every day.

You may know, though, that the difficulty in childraising is that they have GREAT ideas about how to have fun, you just have more knowledge about technique. One kid tried making a tent on the couch. One of his parents gave him a chair. for structure.
since I wanted to sit on the couch, I pressed the kid into the two-chair method. Then I got my afghan and connected the tent to the chair so I could capture all of the thermal energy generated by the children.

and a picture of a submarine thrown in for no reason.

here you go, christmas. mostly pictures

For the folks still on the other side, look at all the easily acquired traditional food. There was no pie, though.

my endeavor was to chronicle what we typically eat, in response to my paux pas about junk food.

I also documented the plate-passing to illuminate how we manage lots of people and dishes without a round table or a spinning plate.

like everyone else, we go right to opening presents and singing twelve days of christmas.

Until it's gone.

I got on a bus and rode several miles, then I walked to my cousin's house. Rather than going in the front, I walked around the back where all the cars were. She came outside and I I said, "Katie!" since I didn't know what else to say. That was how I announced my arrival.
One thing that stood out this Christmas Kate's husband (Dave) saying "The stuffing goes around the table until it's gone. The turkey goes around until it's gone."
great initiative.

sidenote

about the food discussion from last friday.
during that talk about traditional Christmas food, I muttered, "Junk food..." the Chinese guy sitting next to me immediately responded, "Yes! I think so!" which threw me into a panic of "Oh no! I just reinforced a negative stereotype. NooOOOOooo!" so I backpedalled to, "I mean I get a stocking of candy and we eat cake. But we eat a lot of vegetables, too." and I starting thinking upward, "Father, I sure hope someone invites him to a Christmas meal and they serve him HEALTHY food so he doesn't spend his whole life thinking all Americans eat are hamburgers, pop and candy."
which may have been my own lack of confidence. Evidently, the moments when I feel Chinese matter-of-factly looking down on anything about my heritage e.g. "Americans only eat junk food...Americans have lousy family values...Americans pollute more...Americans are inferior at this or that." insert emoticon with frown and steaming head, i.e ~>:[

In final thoughts, even the place I love the most, there is discomfort, as our only true home is in that Other Place, where He is. Going somewhere else on Earth is longer an escape, but a real journey away from something good into something difficult, though wonderful.

Finally I got it

Isn't it great to have a really, really good friend? By that, I mean, someone who listens and helps while still treating you like an equal, and is also honest and fun. I have a friend like that. Every time I talk to her, it's like growing healthier. It's a lot like the conversations I had with my team. There are some hard things, because she's honest, but never judgmental.

In other news, went to Chinese fellowship. Learned the word for psychology (xinlixue) and attended the most all-in-English service I've had on a Friday night there, ever. In discussion with the dude I met on Wednesday and--as expected--saw again today, egg nog is a hard thing to explain. e.g. "Er, I don't actually know. We always buy it already made. They never used to cook it, but there is a way to cook eggs as a liquid (called tempering)..."
other great questions: "cooked eggs or fresh eggs?" "What food does your mother make on Christmas day"--it hit me, then, OH, that's right, the food is a VERY important part of everything in China, and I guess universally. But it always seems extra important to the Chinese I have met, whereas I tend to feel that we explain the rituals and history then list the food as a sidenote. "Do you drink cranberry juice?" final interesting thing: 'Christmas Week.' I usually think of it as a day, or two days. I don't remember if ChunJie is a weeklong, thing, but it seemed like it was, and if so, it's helping me see Christmas through Chinese eyes, imagining they must approach it as a longer celebration that I thought. It is logical, considering New Year's a week later smushes in with Christmas in the holiday season.

Messing with the Cover Again

There, I did it again. I made a new cover for my novel. I'm still not allowed to edit the prose or finish the research until I take my TEFL test.

I am a WINNER. Today I have officially been away from my book for well over two weeks. I've limited myself in that I have to take my TEFL test before I can edit.

In other news:
emailed my mom about some family drama. That ought to be fun
time management, what ever happened? With children, it's hard. You're nowhere near as efficient. Not only do they need attention (and the activities they invite you into are REALLY fun. Come on, building train tracks? Let's go!) but if you are working on something, you need to keep it under seven layers of security to prevent it being destroyed. Eh.

I don't want a lot for Christmas...

Yesterday I was thankful that no matter what mistakes I make and what goes wrong when I'm taking care of the little fellas, they remain safe an healthy.
A couple of weeks ago, one of them asked, "Why do you take care of us?" and I said, "Because your parents take care of me." For a moment I tried to imagine his point of view, wondering why someone he's known for a while now lives with him and routinely is left alone with him and his brothers.
I had a cool "Daily Bread" type story from today. But since I can't remember it, I'll go with an older one:
worried about my lack of exercise, I convinced the boys of the joys of running laps. The older boys had finished all of their punishment laps, but I wanted to tire them out more. I insisted we needed to get the toddler to run laps, too. But he wouldn't respond to his brothers' instructions of how to run laps around the yard. I maintained that we needed to all run the right way and he would follow us. That was harder than just explaining or just doing it myself. If only one or two of us ran, the little guy saw that as reason enough join the one idling. I couldn't get the whole crowd in motion for very long, but I liked it as an anecdote. It's the kind of life we have to live as a community, and the life I hope to return to very soon. We can't just explain or talk. Living well individually is great, but the community is compelling, and most compelling when working together. Also, life example is more compelling than just instruction, especially when what is being said is barely understood, not necessarily accepted as desirable or outside or otherwise overpowered.
There's lots of words in the books that could go along with this. There's the ones about running, finishing the race, running not as one running idly. Better are the ones about living as a body, supporting one another and being light.

Not that crazy. Not that safe.

Our shepherd allowed a guy who had is hand up for a long time during the talk (about first John and believing in the son) and it went haywire from there. The man, who's name was Maliku, wanted to disagree with the teaching in progress, quoting something from a chapter of the last book, the revealing book.
The shepherd was patient, and finally told Maliku to stop. When he wouldn't stop, Malik was told to leave. It took several of the men to get him to leave and ultimately had to involve law enforcement.
A lot of things came to mind for me: homelessness, madness, little wormwoods running around and controlling people, my sense of racism, and the reality of the city and the calling we have here.
I don't know anything about Maliku except that he fits my stereotype of a creepy homeless guy. He was talking to himself and in the class before fellowship time, he did participate and I don't remember what he had to say being very crazy. After years of living here, I tend to ignore the guys like Maliku, never making eye contact of trying to talk to them, and usually tuning out what they have to say.

I shouldn't have been surprised by what happened during the speaking time, but I was. It made it clear that even in our building, we can't assume ourselves completely safe.

Random learning and cookies.

Here in America, the first two weeks or December are heavily booked, once again. This week I passed up an art show and a caroling expedition. But I did do a cookie exchange.
What surprised me was how nourishing it was.
I knew cookie exchanges are a rite passage, in a way, for females. In the last five years of being both an adult and a member of this fellowship, I've never been to one.
For some reason I was surprised by the devotional and the encouraging discussion. It brought to light just how supportive that group of sisters has been and how thankful I am to be a part of it.

I already said it I'll say it again

The time that I'll be flying back to China will be the five year anniversary of the day I don't remember. The fact that it took me over a month to realize it was kind of funny. I'm not sure if it should matter.

And on it goes.

I was in a white elephant gift party today. I gave two paintings. I won a song. It was awesome. It's too bad I didn't write something for it.
Peace to all.

This is my Hundredth post!

Tomorrow I must focus on multiple things: 1)producing multiple gifts for the white-elephant gift party on Thursday. 2) finishing my TEFL certification course 3)Enjoying my last free Wednesday before Editing begins 4)tying up loose ends for Urbana and Christmas before editing begins and taking advantage of the last Wednesday for doing so.
There's actually a longer list, but that's what most urgently comes to mind.

I'm going to more earnestly follow Shannon's advice of writing down the devotionals I keep making up.

Peace to all.

Escaping

they were right. I did get significantly thinner. Even more to my credit, I'm wearing something like four pairs of pants.
I spent 25 hours on a bus with everything I own, really. I won't be able to get back anything I left behind.
I nearly missed the bus at first and had to run for it. I nearly missed another transfer because the two previous layovers were delayed.
I overheard a lot of conversations. But I arrived. It was nearly a month ago.

Noel Night

It's full-fledged winter here. In multiple layers of clothing, everyone walked through the cultural district to the activities happening in the library, science center, museums and various parts of the universities here.
The problem with this weekend is that everything happens this weekend. I chose one morning activity and one evening activity, turning down three alternatives that arose.
I can be thankful to have such choice.
Peace all.

All I can think about

Hmmm. What do you do when your brain gets focused on one thing too much? I had a great discussion about my mom and siblings with my mentor the other day.
Something that stood out for me was the concept of thoughts getting stuck in a circuit and impeding growth. My mom never had a chance to grow up, possibly because her mind was doing laps around the same thing over and over again, and never moving forward in reality.
When I find myself going back to an old train of thought, I remember that and feel even more exhorted to leave it alone as I've already dealt with it, or take it once again to the only one that can really clean it up.

In other news, I'm thinking a lot about my future in China and how badly I want to go back.
I also just finished my novel, the first draft, that is. But it's the first draft that contains a complete story, organization and a reasonably easy rewrite-editing process. On december 15th, I'm going to allow myself to look at it again, read it again, and start editing.
For fact-checking purposes, I want to get a readable draft to my colleagues in China after the semester ends, but before they get caught up in whatever else is going on this winter.

As always, life is difficult, but it's also great.

The Inspired Life

I got all exited about book covers last night, well, Monday night and stayed up designing in a cover for my novel.

When I think about writing I remember something Laura said last year. When she got the opportunity to practice dancing on campus, she said she felt the Father telling her he loves her.

That's how I feel writing. You can see Him reflecting in your life by what he made you good at

Here's the process I used to make the cover. No photoshop involvement, just MS paint and an obscure program called photosoap.

crop to novel dimensions

labor-intensive airbrushing

even more labor-intensive

more contrast, different hue, then less color and darker = goal to make you feel like something is wrong, out of place (exile, get it?)

adding text, at the mercy of MS paint

I just needed some labor intensive text decorations

erase, crop, color/brightness/contrast change

split them into two different images and rotate. mess with colors again

look where I put them. They were worth it.
enlarge, stretch and move text. add byline.

This final looked too depressing so I changed the text to white

available at amazon.com

just kidding!

fell off the face of the earth

in case you were wondering. All of my writing ability is going into novel-world right now.
Please lift me up. My EKG was less than ideal and I've been having trouble breathing. There may be something wrong with my heart.

Attractive ribcages and other blessings

Today was so full of blessings that I worry that it may even have been too good to be true.
My physical exam seemed to go off without a hitch, oh I hope they remembered all of the tests and it passes the standards of the embassy. But I trust Him and He was faithful today. For one thing, it cost a lot less than I expected and all of the procedures were minimal in pain.
I also managed to get both a disc and films of my x-rays even though I'm only supposed to get one or the other.
I even managed to ride in a car with my brother-in-law without feeling sick.

Today was like a hinge between here and China, as if this was the big remaining hurdle between me and announcing that I'm officially going back. I am going back, I trust Him to take me back.

And the best thing about today was seeing my niece seeming to praise Him. I was playing a CD and she started dancing and squealing with excitement. I was so full of Him from His goodness today that I danced, too. She was doing some kind singing and spurting happily in her little walker, wheeling her little arms and kicking her little legs.

I only hope she will really know Him. I wonder if maybe, even though I've failed in a lot of other ways, that she perceived His light and will remember it.

Day of encouragement

Today by happenstance I found myself making phone calls and sending emails.
I keep forgetting how much I like hearing from people, especially believers.
One of my calls lifted my whole day, though it consisted of generally bad news.
I was speaking to someone who cared deeply for me and many many others in my life and who was giving to all of us. The people she cared about were suffering and having to make really difficult decisions. Well, all around us, our friends are making really difficult decisions. But this woman said it all without bitterness or misery. She spoke as one firmly rooted in a strong foundation and eager to help. She didn't even act disappointed in or judgmental of her loved ones, but matter-of-fact.
I told her my own bad news and my hope that it could still be used for good.
After talking to her, I went into some intense knee-time. Somehow I felt good in the midst of empathy. Like the raw crying out to our Protector brought him clearer and closer in a desperate time.
I want to leave this city so badly for my old city. Even more, I want to leave this country and this hemisphere for the place I was called. And most of all I want to leave the Earth and this body for heaven. None of us belong here and my day made me miss home, the real home. But it was a good day because I was reminded of heaven, our real home, as I spoke to the Father there.

Floating in safety

Yesterday was a day spent in the Father's presence, with the Father's people. It's amazing that I would up feeling close to Him without doing a quiet time. Most of my life and devotional in the past few months has been solitary, and I've missed the community side.
I woke up this morning feeling like I was floating in a cloud and I felt really safe.

Cake. Did I mention Cake?

Alas, I didn't bring Jaylen with me, so no high-quality picture. I bet my people in China are jealous that I spent some hour and a half participating in a cake walk. I spent the whole time pondering how cake-walks are about the best social activity in the world. I fantasized organizing one in China. How?
There was a very cultural event called "harvest festival." that doubled as a halloween party. Cotton candy, popcorn, snowcones, hotdogs, hamburgers, clown activities and assorted carnival throw-things-and-win-candy games. Oh, and a moonwalk and minigolf. Man, I wanted to take pictures to show my future students and show them American life in a festival. That's how we do festivals. Oh, and hay-ride.

It was a community outreach of sorts done by the youth of a fellowship. The best part of it was spending it with a new unusual friend I met in Sunday school. She reminds me of my students with her longing for friendship and her age. She shared a lot about her family and the disabilities she's struggled with.
I hope that this new relationship can be one in which I can serve and help disciple her and practice having healthy boundaries with a fairly needy person. May it be discerning and healthy.

Oh and she loves cakewalks, too.

Choosing to lose, again and again

So I lose. So long as God wins. Sermons and devotionals keep bringing up Philippians and the Sermon on the Mount. Loving my enemies and thinking others better than myself.
And it's hard. Everyone knows that. The people I'm being called to love are my sister and my brother-in-law, who have done a lot to be enemies to me. Every time they visited my apartment when I was in college (before they got married), they disrespected me and my home with their lewd conduct that would go as far as dry-humping on my room mate's bed--laughing in my face when I told them to stop---and various heavy petting routines both in my apartment and in the parking lot of my church where I had gone to trouble to allow them to park. I was ashamed to see my only remaining family member descending to such a level, to see someone I didn't know treating her like an object and I was angry that they reveled in mocking my sense of right and wrong.
I also felt inadequate and weak for not standing up to them and telling them what they were doing was wrong and hurting me.
But I have to love them because crooked, selfish and immature as they are, they are loved by God and covered by his blood. And what's harder is I have to apologize to him. Whenever I look at him all I see are those few times I've met him that led to witnessing his public sexual activity with my beloved sister. I have felt like he's gloating his power over me because I let him have sex in my apartment once, giving him license to do it all he wants in the future. And it makes me sick.
So sick that I've broken things. So they reprimanded me like a child, fired me as their full-time babysitter and told me to leave their house. No remorse over what they've done to me. My anger over their fornication in my home and the glaring disrespect that drove it--to them--is just an attempt to force my religion on them.
It's weird, walking around, perceived as the wrongdoer when I see myself as the victim and the giver.

Today added more insult to injury. Besides being ashamed of having seen my sister being humped like a dog in my own apartment, I'm also ashamed that I can't drive. I've been weakly asking my sister for help practicing for a long time, greatly impeded by my shame.
Well, today after weeks of begging we practiced parallel parking. But she thought to help by having her husband do the instructing.
It was hellish being a pupil to someone who's face and voice make me want to vomit blood. I hated that he was once again in a position of power. I wanted him to go away. I wanted him to realize how he had hurt me and my sister and be sorry. I wanted an opportunity to be in a position of power over him. But I was stuck, having to submit to his arrogance. He probably thought he was being very helpful and I should be grateful.
I just had to keep thinking about loving my enemy and treating others as better, even if they seen no reason why I consider them enemies and they're well-convinced that they're better than I am.
All I can say is that it hurts. And God is still good and has some plan for all of this.

My 300

I found it really amusing that I'm aiming for two checked bags of 50 pounds each plus a carry-on bag of fifty pounds. Altogether they'll weigh the same as I do, so I'll be responsible for getting 300 pounds total to my next destination. That's my three hundred.
I've spent the last six years of my life moving about twice a year. I'm really experienced at packing. I'm good at shedding things. With four years of going on retreats I'm good at running through a lightning checklist and throwing a back together. I can travel light. But I also travel heavy when I have to take everything I own with me. I've done it so many times.
No permanent address. No place I think of as home.
But that's just a reflection of our true plight here on Earth. This planet is not our home. Nothing on it will ever be enough to satisfy our hearts. And we can't take any of it with us. So my life is telling the truth. I don't have a home. None of us do here, and I don't even have the illusion of one.

Trying to describe myself

Every day is a cultural adventure. I got really caught up yesterday looking at the blogs of "homesteaders," which I discovered are urban women who try and produce as much as possible to avoid consumerism. This appealed to me so much. There's the environmental aspect of it, the frugal aspect of it, and the romanticized notion doing things the old-fashioned way, shunning additives, import and mass-production.

Hmmm. reminds me of how much it bothered me to find that people here don't recycle.
"What?!! But...but...the Earth!"

Looks good so far.

I've prided myself in taking strides over all of the major obstacles to getting back to China. I've signed the contract, I've scheduled my physical, I've been keeping up somewhat on what this is going to cost. I've been pursuing the kingdom. Now, it's still not in my hands. There's a greater power at work here. I just trust Him to take me where I belong. I can only hope that my real hopes are in Him and not in China, so that if, at the last minute, it were to all disappear, and I were to be left with nothing, that I would still call Him good, and my situation good, and go where He really wants me. That's where I want my heart to be, and I'm working to get it there.

A Strange Burden

I was watching a DVD sermon from the fellowship that brought me to faith. It was called, "how does your God stack up?" and it consisted of comparing four "spiritual leaders" in the areas of teaching, (how influential they were) Morality, (how consistent their lives were with their teaching) prophesy, miracles and some other criteria. Four big blocks were place on the stage with their names: Confucius, Buddha, (though it was spelled Buddah) Mohamed and Jesus.

The premise was that whatever belief you choose to follow, your leader should have certain characteristics. More blocks were stacked on top of the names depending on how well each did. Some had bigger teaching blocks. Jesus had more. Mohamed's morality block was really thin. Only Jesus got prophesy, miracles or resurrection. It was true. It was fair.

But after being in China for so long and being so thoroughly cross-culturally trained, something felt wrong about it. I understood the illustration's point, and it was wonderfully executed for its target audience. That fellowship is made of suburban people, mostly, and the talk was addressing a specific ideology: Middle class American Agnostic thinking, something like, "Well, Jesus is just like the other great teachers, Confucius, Buddha and Mohamed. He's not any more right. People can all follow whatever they want, so I'll follow whatever I want and what works for me."

In addressing that Ideology, the sermon showed that those great teachers are not all equal, and we have to choose rather than floating in relativism. I was a great talk back when I was a suburban American.

But I couldn't help thinking that as a Chinese-Marinated College Educated Cross-cultural servant, I was uncomfortable. I imaged what would happen if a Chinese person saw that presentation. They would be offended, shamed, and shut down emotionally. Or I imagined someone who's read what I've read thinking, "Well, Buddha wasn't exactly a religious leader. And Confucius was just secular in his teaching, refusing to even address the divine issues."
Certainly some people can't be reached by those talks. Thank God some people can, I only hope they can keep learning and understanding so they don't do anything ignorant with their faith.

I also identified a striking moment of being an overseas veteran in the American Church. I expected to be irritated by my stateside brothers and sisters, but here was a moment I didn't expect.

It's important to tell him

I've spent time in His presence today and it brought back life. It's renewing just to listen. It's great to tell Him how great He is. It's safe to tell Him what I'm afraid of and what I want most.

So that's what I did. He assured me that no matter what is happening, I will be under His care and I will survive because He will provide.

the creepy laowai

I remember a conversation I had with a former classmate and some friends of his when we met up in Beijing in June. We were talking about the shady looking expatriots in China, known to us at the creepy laowai. My classmate had recently spoken to our professor (we were in different classes, but both had him) about that subject and reported what he had said. What stood out to me was the part about not being accepted in their home countries (I assumed their American, but who knows) and also becoming creepy gradually.
So the really creepy thing is that they might start out just normal, but their role in China somehow enables them to bend into something else.
But here's what disturbed me and why I thought of it: I spent a lot of time today missing China and feeling not accepted in my native country. I've struggled several times with the thought of accidentally turning into the creepy laowai.
But I also remember something a staffworker told me when we returned from my first trip to China, he kept saying something like, "be content with where you are." He had said it many times before. It was good advice, but hard to hear. I don't want to be here. I want to go back to China. And I've been convicted more and more to accept where I am and be present here and serve here. I want to.
I also know I won't really become a creepy laowai because I can choose to focus on my unending source and ask for help keeping straight. I can ask to be made better and to purify my motives.
I believe He will bring me back to China.
The hard part is waiting.

Broke something else, a fast.

Well that's funny. I uploaded the wrong picture. I fasted starting on Friday and today, the fifth day, I couldn't take it any more. I ate some semisolid refried beans and drank some milk. That's some inadequate 500 calories. I found I've been doing it for too many reasons and too many of the wrong ones. Part of it was stubbornness. My brother-in-law told me that if I was going to stick around, I needed to find a job and pay for food and electricity, so I responded with utmost noverbal sarcasm by refusing to eat his food. Needless to say, it was a much harder fast than the one I experienced at age 19. By the end of that fast I lasted 7 days while still doing school and laborious work, plus I had gone 1-day then 2-day then 3-day then 4-day then 5-day then 6-day before starting the 7-day fast. It was actually the first season of unbelievable growth and closeness to the Father.
This time there were some eternal benefits. I was able to lift up a lot of people and feel very much in need of the great Creator.
Anyway, I'm going to go a few more days and probably transition to at least liquids.

Aw, man, 55

Turns out my alma mater is having a conference at the catering/conference center at which I used to work. I really want to go and technically I could present, except it might be somewhat of a fiasco. The conference is about teaching Chinese, which I have never done in a formal setting, although I have done the opposite: teaching English in China. I wonder if I can pull it off, maybe if I just presented it as a comparison and contrasting of how teaching the two languages is different. I could also pull from my time as a Chinese student. Who knows. It would be so much fun.

Mercy and more

I've learned more and more about mercy this week. Some things have already gotten better I can only keep relying on grace and hope to help others even while being helped.

I actually feel pity

Big Turtle! Crossing cultures in my native country. I "Carefront" You know, confronting because you care. It's hard, especially when you care a lot about people who don't hold to any doctrine, let alone a doctrine calling for humility and forgiveness. No call to admit wrongs, either. But I hold those doctrines, so I'll have to admit that I don't sincerely care about one of the people. Maybe that's my problem. But I'll need to think about that more.
What's important is that I live in a fishtank that doesn't call for forgiveness. It seems to push for vengeance instead. It's also a place where people don't talk about their feelings. I didn't do very well. My culture shock didn't reflect what I wanted it to, but hopefully my humility and response to my wrongdoings will.
And I feel sorry for this culture, because I know I will always be provided for, some how, that I'll have my most important need met. But I'm dealing with miserable people that think their hard work will earn them everything, not realizing everything could be taken away from them. And none of it will fulfill them anyway. It's materialism they follow, and it's killing them. But it will never kill me. So I feel sorry for them.

Ahh! Acid?

In the Rylisms devotions, Ryle recalls a dream he has in which he saw a messenger (the kind we think of with wings) pouring acid on a man's head. When he asked what the messenger was doing, he was told, "This acid is all of the curses he's spoken against others." Graphic indeed! Ryle's exhortation is to not curse, but to speak and wish good on others. Ok, good. I agree. I want to do right and good by others, no matter what they do to me. So hopefully I'll speak good on others in my quiet time, even those who are cursing me now, because they do it in ignorance and even though they appear safer and more powerful, the place where my hope is set will always be stronger that the place where their hope is set, and I will long be the safe one.

Hmmm, how do I cross cultures? #165

Here's something that sets this fish tank apart from the last one I lived in: exercise. I think I'm at an all time low for activity unless I try really hard to get it in. Last year I could easily lap the school when I was restless. I could also go to my office for an easy ten flight of stairs. Even during my senior year of college I walked an hour or two a day to work or class. Here, there aren't even sidewalks, so I convinced my sister to get an elliptical. In China sports were for everybody. We ran two miles together in the morning, the favorite pastime was badminton and walking was really fun and necessary. But here in the U.S., we don't seem to have it ingrained into life. I miss it.

Rights to Relationship #165

I ended up on skype hoping to find my team mates, and found another relative. What was significant was that I've felt like I lost the right to have relationships with most of the family the first second time I was exiled. I've also done a lot of knee time for another serious dilemma and the answer I've been getting this will has been opening doors to relationships with the family I thought I had lost.

Some unexpected encouragement

It's weird to go from the cast-out black sheep to the "good one" in one conversation, but somehow I managed. Last night I was counting off how many times I've been kicked out of homes or organizations (in the past six years.) I was thinking this way because I was expecting a passive-aggressive and recently violent fight I was having to lead to exile number seven.
I ended up talking to the owner of the second home from which I was booted.
"I think they're going to kick me out. I broke a mirror," I said.
She was shocked. I tried saying, "I've been kicked out of many places," But glossed over it because it wasn't the point of the conversation.
I explained how I was frustrated and she said she understood, and she was proud of my accomplishments and sacrifice. It was the last place I expected to find support.
The other two girls from the same home are having a lot of difficulties, and have for years. I think now that they lost more than I did when I had to go away. And I'm not the black sheep, at least not in that family, after all. It was the most encouraging thing I've learned in a while.

167 waiting

It's one of my favorite songs "strength will rise as we wait..." and that part repeats--a lot. But I don't like waiting. I don't like repeatedly waiting. I've spent my quiet times saying, "I want an answer! Am I going back or not? Will I get the job or not?"
As usually, He showed me some other things to stop worrying about, that I've worried about longer. And although today was no great day, the time of quiet was really peaceful and sustaining.

168 sour grapes

Eze 18:2 What is it to you that you use this proverb concerning the land of Israel, saying, The fathers have eaten sour grapes and the teeth of the sons are dull?
Eze 18:3 As I live, says the L Y, to you there is no longer any occasion to use this proverb in Israel.
Eze 18:4 Behold, all souls are Mine. As the soul of the father, also the soul of the son, they are Mine. The soul that sins, it shall die
I don't know if there are a lot of people who relate to this verse in their families, but there are definitely some. My black-sheep status in at least one family has more to do with my parents than it does with me. All the difficulty I have caring about my niece has nothing to do with her and everything to do with her father. I'm still determined not to punish her unfairly just because of what her parents did. It's a relief to know that the one in control is just and will take care of people who follow him, and also find ways to punish bad parents without wronging their children.

What did they sacrifice?

I was thinking about Jonah some more, and I realized that there's something else significant about the two verses that stood out when I read it before. They threw the cargo into the sea to lighten the ship. After they threw Jonah in, they made sacrifices and vows.
1) What was left to sacrifice? Just their own stuff?
2) Does that mean they hadn't thrown their own stuff into the sea in the panic? I think that's true to human nature.
3) What if they didn't have a lot of stuff to sacrifice, so did some of them instead make sacrifices of service, like the ones we tend to make in the pursuit of the father? Well, it's hard to imagine OT people doing anything that wasn't a literal ceremony that we, supposedly more sophicated NTers do all of the less visable acts of devotion. But who knows?

168 Well he brings good news

Although I'm currently swimming in a polluted fish tank, (I'm sick of calling it culture) and every day is difficult, I have gotten such
good news lately. Two people who journeyed with me two summers ago have gotten engaged. Another saint who journeyed with me last year is going back to lead. I'm hoping the good news will continue for me. I'm in the midst of trying to get the channels open for another round of visa hoop-jumping--hoops through which I would be overjoyed to jump because it's worth it to be able to go back.

167 What was the cargo?

I like to copy the whole chapter onto paper when I do an inductive study.
Here's the first round of Jonah. It really helped e to do this quiet time because there's a lot of madness going on around me and I can't handle it without going to the one who's in control. He told me to go for Jonah again, so I read the story. One thing that stood out to me was the part where "They threw the cargo into the sea to lighten the ship," 1:04. My thought was "What was the cargo?" Maybe there was someone waiting in Tarshish telling his family, "Once that shipment we invested in from Joppa gets here, we'll have it made for life." Or maybe it was like, "Don't worry, kids, just hold out until the medicine arrives from Joppa and we'll make you all better," (I was thinking of Balto, you know?) That is, it could have been a good and valuable thing. Or maybe it was a bad thing. Maybe it was illegal drugs or weapons ("Tarshish is going down when my boat comes in.")
Why does it matter? Because the cargo was dropped to save them from the storm. The storm was there to stop Jonah from running away, and Jonah was running away in disobedience. The boat probably sustained heavy damage in addition to loss of cargo and the people running the ship certainly lost some income because they couldn't deliver whatever loot they had to toss.
There are two things this made me conclude two things: 1) Any individual's disobedience (yours, mine, our parents') can cost someone else everything, so we have one more reason to obey and to be sobered to the consequences of any wrong we're doing now 2) The harsh consequences may still be used for good, (like the fact that the men believed because of the storm and offered sacrifice as well as slim possibility that the loss of cargo prevented an act of terror.) so we should see that the one in charge is still in charge and we should be thankful for his grace and power.