Beloved Son

"For God SO loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish but have everlasting life."

All my life, I thought I knew what those words meant.  I thought I could understand that kind of love.  I thought I knew why Jesus would die for me.  I mean, I'm pretty special!

Not so now.

I have a son.  His name is Ezra.  My only son.  My only begotten, beloved son.  Would I give him up in a sacrifice for someone?  Heck no.  Without even blinking an eye, no matter the situation, I would walk--no run--away from that situation.  Not for my brother or sister, father, best friend, or even my mother and my husband (sorry guys)!  Even for all of them combined!!  Would I consider it for the sake of the world?  For a mess we'd gotten ourselves into and consequences we deserve?  Would I even consider sacrificing myself, sweet, beautiful, innocent, beloved Ezra?  Let somebody else do it.  Even should he want to make that decision for himself, I would want to take him and hide.

So how in the world did God Himself give up His son, God in the flesh, to die for us?  Someone so much more loveworthy than my own son (it hurts just to type that).  Some might discount the tough love of the father (ahem, mother).  However, I think it is instead His absolutely overwhelming love for us, a people so fallen, so uncreative and crude I don't even understand it.  And yet, it happened.  

All of a sudden this begins to have more meaning too:  "Greater love hath no one than this: that he lay down his life for his friends." John 5:13

And this: "Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die." Romans 5:7

Ezra cannot help but love me.  Yes, he already gets mad at me sometimes, and I'm sure we will have our share of tough times when he hits those teenage years.  But I have poured (and continue to pour) all of my love into him, and I can see it when his face lights up in those gummy smiles, or when he looks all around the room with his wobbly neck to find me, only me, his mother.  

That's the kind of relationship that is described in 1 John 4:19: "We love because He first loved us."  My capacity to love has increased so much over the last 3 months, more than I thought possible (like the Grinch).  I am being taught to love by the Creator of love.  And for the first time I am amazed the way I truly should be at His incomprehensible love for us.  And ashamed at my lack of response to it.     

My Body, the Temple

Over the past few months I've been dwelling a lot on the passage in Corinthians that says: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God?  You are not your own; you were bought at a price.  Therefore honor God with your body." 
As a child, I took that in a purely decorative sense: dress modestly, avoid tattoos, piercings, or other outrageous displays that might not represent Jesus.

I was reminded of this verse again today in the checkout line of the grocery store.  I had bought a loaf of bread, and as it went down the conveyor belt I thought--mmm...sandwiches!!  In one short week I can eat all of the deli meat and soft cheeses that I want!! 

That may seem like a weird thought, but when you are pregnant there are a lot of seemingly benign foods on the no-no list: soft cheeses, deli meat (including my favorite--chicken salad!!), hot dogs, alcohol, caffeine, and certain kinds of fish.  And those are just the big ones!  As I've been caring for this new life inside of me, I have been SO much more aware of the things I've been putting in my body.  Processed foods, fatty foods, high fructose corn syrup--any ingredient that I can't pronounce!  The things I choose to consume go directly to my child, and the toxins that I encounter on a daily basis hit him at a much higher level in proportion to his tiny growing body.

It's not just foods, either.  I look at stretch mark cream that is intended to be rubbed onto my belly and absorbed into my skin, and it has paraffin and other chemicals that are not always good for you--sometimes even carcinogenic!  Do I want to have that absorbed directly into the area that my child is resting?  The same goes with the chemicals in cleaning agents and even perfumes--things that my highly sensitive nose is very attuned to lately.  I rush past my neighbors who sit smoking every night, practically on my front porch. 

The list of things I've gotten into the habit of avoiding over the past 9 months is large, but what about things that I've been practicing?  Exercise, good sleep habits, eating frequent meals, drinking a LOT of water, and trying to reduce stress.  All of these are things I've been consciously trying to implement as my body has been housing this little one that I love so much. 

Now that I know what it is like to physically have another being living inside of me, it makes me wonder--have I really put into practice that verse from above?  My body is a temple of the Holy Spirit--who lives inside of me!  My body is his dwelling place.  That should go far beyond not wearing tight or revealing clothing.  The Hebrews decorated their temple inside and out.  It was a HOLY and PURE place of reverence.  Do I maintain my body in that same way?  Do I keep my body healthy in order to glorify God in His temple?  Do I consider what I eat and drink, what I say, the music I sing, and the things that I do all in perspective of my precious Lord?  Right now every thought is on protecting and honoring my child in every way that I can.  But even after he is born (which should be any day, praise God!) I want to continue these practices of setting aside my body as a temple.  No, I am not going to give up deli meat permanently (I'm pretty sure the Holy Spirit is ok with a sub every now and then).  But I do want to maintain the same reverence that I have had for my body as a vessel of something that is greater than myself, that is meant to be holy and pure, and that I have been entrusted to maintain to the best of my capabilities while here on this earth. 

My Valentine

So my sister-in-law actually posted this on her blog, a picture of true Love.  If you have time to watch, bear with the first minute and a half, it seems a little bit cheesy I know, but the overall performance is well-worth watching:






I know this is not a perfect representation (and I'm sure I will get comments about it).  But it's the type of love I think everyone's looking for.  Here are the lyrics in case you missed them:

Find me here, speak to me
I want to feel you, I need to hear you
You are the light that's leading me to the place
Where I find peace again
You are the strength that keeps me walking
You are the hope that keeps me trusting
You are the light to my soul
You are my purpose
You're everything
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this
You calm the storms and you give me rest
You hold me in your hands
You won't let me fall
You still my heart, and you take my breath away
Would you take me in take me deeper now
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this
Cause you're all I want,
You're all I need
You're everything... everything
You're all I want
You're all I need
You're everything... everything
You're all I want
You're all I need
You're everything... everything
You're all I want
You're all I need
Everything... everything
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better
any better than this
And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this
Would you tell me how could it be any better than this

Is That All You've Got?

I mentioned in my New Year's post that work has been getting me down.  If I'd been writing this a month ago I would have said that I despised my job.  I would have mentioned that the only thing keeping me at my job is that every Sunday when I begged Joel to let me put in my 2 weeks notice the next Monday morning he asked me just to stick it out until he had a stable job teaching.  And for a while I really thought I hated it!  Lately things have been better, but I think it's been more a result of my change in perspective rather than anything different at work.

It's not that I don't care about my job. Far from it!  I am very happy to be back working with a resettlement agency, because it is such important work, and being active in the global community is really important to me.  But as a job developer, sometimes I feel like I am being asked to do the impossible, as though I am the very last chance for our refugees to make it in this world. They have come here from circumstances that most Americans can't even begin to wrap our brains around, and their resettlement here is supposedly a compassionate response--Welcome to America, the Land of Opportunity! Yet instead they find themselves here in Houston, living in apartments infested with bed bugs and vagrants, trapped in government assistance programs that at times hardly pay enough to cover their rent and tick like a time bomb while they race to learn English and fight the ever-widening job pool of qualified Americans for a job that pays minimum wage!

Every day I have a case manager come to me with their sad story, about a single mom or family with 7 kids or a disabled patriarch. They advocate for their clients, fight to keep them in the forefront of my mind as I petition employers and sweet-talk HR directors. Daily I am asked if I have anything for someone who doesn't speak any English and I find myself laughing in their faces (unprofessional, I know, but what else do I do to keep from crying?). And every person that we fail to aid in the integration process, every person that fails to find a job and every family that ends up on the street is my own personal nightmare--someone that came here promised the world and that I let down. And then I have dreams at night, dreams that master those moments where I could have done more. After one such dream I even offered our spare bedroom to my resettlement director (another of my wild schemes that my crazy and adoring husband accepted without question) but he refused.

Sure, I know there are a lot of aspects that go into a person's transition here to the United States. I know there are a million different factors that can make them fail or succeed. I know every interaction from volunteers, caseworkers, neighbors, and friends helps along the way. I know their ability to grasp English, prior education, and the effort they put into going to class make a huge difference. I know their character, personality, presentation, determination, and sheer good luck each contribute to their process of starting over here. But somehow, it all seems to culminate in finding that job, and that is where I come in. The measure of their success starts and ends with me!


Maybe I feel it strongly because I've been a stranger in a new country where people wondered what the heck I was doing there (even though technically, they were the ones that brought me there). At times they could even be hostile! But at the same time, I never worried that we wouldn't make it. There no one registers for food stamps or medicaid and then has to wait months to receive said "benefits" (and here we stumble across yet another example of my favorite pet peeve, that is, the way our language is used to isolate and alienate at-risk populations so that the "average American" just can't relate, widening the gaps in our society that much further...who does it really "benefit" to receive a measly TANF payment that only helps your family sink further into poverty? just like identifying undocumented workers and immigrant as "illegal aliens" evokes imagery of crazed little green men in space suits trying to take over our entire country! sorry, long aside...I won't go into it further right now...). Anyway, in Mauritania, people help each other out. Even the strangers.  The few occasions where Joel and I were having a tight month, friends and neighbors stepped in by lending us money and inviting us to meals.  There is no massive bureaucratic sinkhole that sucks in the unfortunate never to be seen or heard from again! Not that the Mauritanian government (aka military) has things better figured out than we do, seeing as they tend to screw up pretty much anything they get involved in. Maybe that is the point?....

Ok, so I'm starting to ramble a little bit.  All I really wanted to say was that although my job makes me exhausted, stressed-out and frustrated, I don't hate it, at least not anymore.  I am constantly at a loss of what to do with the college-educated, professionally-experienced clients we have that can't seem to manage to land anything better than a manufacturing job.  And I'm at a loss of how to show employers that hiring these clients is not a social service, but a wise business move.  And I'm also at a loss of how to show my other co-workers that I am not here to compete against them, which seems to be the current mode of operation, but that I'd really love it if we could work together!!

I should point out that my job is something that I've been really grateful for. Not only was it a huge blessing just to find employment of any kind in order to keep a roof over our heads, but this job is an engaging and also laid back (most of the times :o) environment full of coworkers that I have grown to really appreciate and like! I love hearing the different languages circulating through the office, especially trying to pick up what I can of the Arabic that I hear.  I get to learn about different cultures every day.  And some of my only friends in Houston are from my work, and it helps to not feel so lonely all the time!

My goal for this year is to be better at my job, which means finding more jobs (the economy could help with this if it would just get its act together!).  Also to keep from being isolated, which has been hard to avoid in a new place with Joel working whenever I am not.  But I tend to keep a better perspective when I'm surrounded by people to keep me in line, and to keep me from obsessing (and being depressed) about situations at work.  So I'm going into 2010 with a new attitude, and I'm bouncing back.  Is that all you've got, YMCA?

Ringing in the New Year...

New Year's Eve.  A celebration full of fun, anticipation, good times with friends, and excitement over a fresh start in the year to come!  And I made it to approximately 11:50pm last night before falling asleep. 

Don't get me wrong.  2009 was a big year (even if it went out as a bit of a flop).  I look forward to 2010 being even bigger, if for completely different reasons.  But by 11:50 last night I could completely relate with old man 2009, staggering along barely even caring that baby 2010 was about to be born!  Because I am completely exhausted!  I feel like the last few months I've been living like a person in a coma, and I have no idea what has been going on around me.

I attempted to write a blog about it, which turned into my personal memoirs, so I'll just summarize some of it here, and maybe post the rest in subsequent entries (not for the faint of heart).

In short, 2009 was a marathon that left me exhausted.  In 2009 I managed to hit 7 different countries, crossed the Atlantic 6 times, finished up some major projects in Mauritania (including getting my theater club en brusse and helping with several murals), saw my roommate get married, had a whirlwind COS, said goodbye to dear friends both Mauritanian and American without promise of ever seeing them again, travelled back and forth from Texas and Wheaton 6 or 7 times, unpacked all of our belongings, repacked them all, drove to Houston, unpacked everything again, started a new job which drives me absolutely crazy, watched my husband re-start an old job at the Dirty Bird which also drives me crazy because it keeps him out most nights, and I lost my cat--whom I love and still makes me sad! (did I mention she also traversed the Atlantic Ocean, 3 different countries, and 9 different states only to disappear during a Texas thunderstorm, never to be seen again).  I was also here for the birth of a new niece and a nephew, and in September came down with a bug of my own that I've been dealing with ever since! 

There is probably more that I am forgetting, and even though I didn't make it to midnight last night, I did spend today day hiding out in my apartment deciding what the next decade will look like.  So I came up with a couple of resolutions for the year: 

--Find a place in Houston that recycles so we can finally empty out the trunk of our car that has been accumulating paper and cardboard for the last 4 months.  Yes, I live in the least environment-friendly city in the country. 

--Not belittle david (or others, but mostly david I think) for doing things that I do myself (such as make new year's resolutions...)

--Gain 20lbs (Hooray for Heman!!!!!)

--Be a better wife, a better daughter, a better mother (can you be better at something you've never been before?), a better friend, sibling, and coworker

--Last but certainly not the easiest: find and record 1 reason per week to appreciate where I'm at and what I am doing (current state of mind-this is going to be tough)

Well, those are my resolutions.  Feel free to call me on them and keep me on track!  Especially if you know a convenient place for me to recycle.  A girl can only have so much cardboard furniture!!

Bring it on, 2010.

Spirit-killer

I know it's been quite awhile since I've blogged anything.  There's been a lot going on lately with work and life, but nothing I felt particularly like blogging about.  Lately, however, I've been thinking a lot about fear.  Fear and our society's bizarre obsession with it!  We live in one of the safest periods in the history of time.  Mortality rates are down, life expectancy is up.  Modern medicine has more capabilities to preserve life than our ancestors could ever have imagined.  We have cell phones, 9-1-1 emergency responses, seat belts, airbags, and alarm systems.  We should feel an amazing sense of security.  And yet many people are completely dominated by fear.  America used to be "in God we trust," or "the home of the brave."  But today our societal structure has been built upon intricate networks of fear and intimidation.
Last week I sat in a new employee meeting with our company's Aflac representative.  She pitched several different insurance packages to us that could potentially offset the costs of a potential future tragedy, if we start paying monthly installments now.  There is a life insurance package (which is on top of the automatic package our company provides) which will double or triple my current "award" (1 year's salary) to Joel if I die.  There is also cancer "protection."  I can start payments now, and in the event that someday I get cancer, Aflak will help to cover my expenses (more fully than most insurances, and without a pre-existing condition clause). There is even a coverage package for rare diseases.  I can pay about $25 a month and if I come down with any number of rare diseases--including mad cow disease or West Nile virus, I'll be paid for my pains. 
The representative had a wealth of examples and stories about freak accidents and random occurences that rarely happen in life outside of Grey's Anatomy.  Stories about people falling with lanyards and cutting off fingers or children getting bizarre immune disorders.  She preyed upon our feelings of being alone and vulnerable.  She took away any faith in God or family or health or anything else, and instilled a terrifying feeling of lack of control and connection.  And several of my coworkers, desperate for that control or connection to someone that will support them through tough times are now participating in various plans.  And so it's got me wondering what has happened to our society, when our confidence passed away and fear took over. 
I spent the last 2 years of my life in Mauritania, and didn't feel afraid once.  Joel and I were the only white people for miles.  We experienced a coup d'etat.  We slept outside.  I was alone quite a bit--as a women in an environment that was very anti-women.  Our neighbors and host family were Arab and Muslim, a culture that is often quite hostile to the West.  But you can ask Joel--we weren't afraid once.
Now I'm back in the States, and I find myself obsessively locking doors.  When I'm at home alone I bolt my door-sometimes twice.  I didn't hesitate to enroll in my work's healthcare plan--that was half the reason for finding a job!  And when I walk alone at night I get freaked out quite a bit. 
So what's the difference? 
The only thing I've been able to come up with is self-reliance.  Here in the States we pride ourselves on self-reliance and being independent.  In Mauritania they have a "mashallah" attitude about everything--basically saying that life is in God's hands and there isn't much we can do about it.  They have a community focus--one that says that neighbors take care of each other and look out for one another.  People in Maal constantly told me "we have no problems here," by which they really meant no one is ever alone, and we don't let anyone come to harm under our watch.  For example: one time we heard a domestic squabble going on a few houses away.  A woman started yelling.  And in less than a minute, our entire neighborhood had convened, men descending on that household as though it was on fire!  They mediated the situation, and everything was taken care of quickly and without problem. 
What is my response to this?  As a result I've been thinking a lot about Matthew 10:28: "Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body..."  What have we traded in this obsessive journey for self-preservation where we have stopped caring about the soul in our desire to protect the body?  In our quest for comfort and protection, we have cast aside God, neighbor, friend, and faith.  Has our increase in health care, safety measures, convenient appliances and life expectancy really made our world a better place?  In our society where we allow ourselves to be dominated by fear-mongering from the media and other influences we prevent ourselves from truly living, and from ever discovering truth.  So my challenge today is to think about your community--the structure of family, friends, co-workers and neighbors that may be providing support to you in tough times.  Think about where you are placing your trust--beware of that which can destroy your soul. 

Have You Seen This Cat??

I lost my cat.  She's been gone now for a week and it's been a surprisingly hard thing for me to deal with!  I value existence without drama and pride myself as being unemotional, normally avoiding social signs of weakness such as crying or talking about my feelings (I was not raised to by your typical girly-girl).  But I've been sitting alone in the evenings while Joel's working and sometimes I can hear her little bell following me about the different rooms!  I need her and keep expecting her to show up and bug me some more.

My relationship with Shwey is definitely a love-hate one. I love her so much.  I rescued her as a frail, tiny, two-week old kitten that desperately needed me.  And she in turn filled this massive void Joel and I felt in Mauritania--that is being needed, having an impact.  Finally another creature in the world that what we did mattered to!  So having her around...we bonded. But at the same time, she's not the sweetest cat in the world.  The only cuddle time we have is when she thinks I'm asleep, at which point in her mind it is safe to get in hand's reach, and she curls herself up against my back or neck and purrs herself to sleep. For the most part, we coexisted (her choice).

Don't call PETA on me, but I think while in Mauritania my perception of animals and their role on earth changed a bit.  The first time I saw a donkey being beaten and left to die was shocking.  The first time I saw little boys dragging around tiny-birds tied to a string, I couldn't help scolding them, even in my pathetically insufficient language skills.  But during my time there I hit a point where I saw animals as far more utilitarian in their purpose.  Could I really judge those boys for building a yo-yo out of a bird, when they'd never actually been given a toy? (I'm not saying it's any less horrifying of a toy)  If your donkey is a tool or machine that has stopped functioning, is there any point to continue putting money and labor into it?

Joel and I had a dog and a cat while in Mauritania.  Locals found it very strange that we didn't beat them (much) and actually let them into our homes and become part of our lives.  They found our entertainment of animals very odd.  But I think we shared in the same ultimately utilitarian view.  Unlike the USA's "animals are people too," campaign, I tend to view animals in their relationship and value to us.  Maybe I don't need them to work for me, but I kept Shwey around and she had value because she made me happy.  I liked having her around.  I liked her warm, fluffy fur when she would curl up next to me.  I liked her spastic attacks of anything that moved, because it made me laugh.  I liked when my dog, Bibi, would leap up on her hind legs in a ridiculous dance because she was so happy to play when we came home.  These animals are what they offered to me.  They don't have souls.  They aren't eternal beings.  I don't know where Shwey is now.  If she is dead, that is it.  If she is alive, I hope she comes back.  But I don't want to mourn her.  I'm not going to feel guilty if I have another cat.  I do miss her and her silly antics, and Shwey if you are reading this I do want you to come home! 

I think we learn to love in stages and expand as people.  As very small children we only know how to love ourselves and our parents.  We learn to love siblings, cousins, friends, and crazy aunts and uncles.  When we add a pet, especially one that is dependent completely on us, it opens up another level.  Not that pets are more important than the above mentioned relations, but they help to bring us out of ourselves in the way that others do not, because they rely on us more than anything else.  I think they are probably a good phasing point towards children.  A lot of people that have never had kids talk about their pets as kids, most people that have children never compare their animals to them!  Why is that?  I think they've taken it up a notch, seen how much more they could love something, and how much less selfish they can be.  Even though now it feels like our little family has been broken up, and  while I really miss my "baby" that I was looking forward to having around for another 15 years, I know I'm only at one step on the journey, and still have a lot to learn about loving myself less and others more and being part of a bigger family and community.  So maybe we'll end up adopting one of the sad little creatures we've seen at the shelters we've visited.  Who knows.  But if you are thinking about getting a pet I recommend rescuing one--visit one of your local shelters and walking away will be one of the hardest things you've ever done.

And if you see this cat--let me know!!