Four-Year-Olds Love Me

Last night I was working in the office after dinner, and my roommate, Becks, came in. She had a message for me. Apparently, Sam-- the four-year-old little boy who lives across the base from me-- was at home and refusing to go to bed until I came and said good night. So I went down to see him. He mostly just wanted to show me his new pirate pajamas. But it was really cute.

So what is the deal? Why do four-year-olds love me so much? Sammy is not the only one, I have to say. Check out the awesome story that Becks' nephew, Jordan, wrote for/about me when he was four (now he is five, but I like to think that he still has a special place in his heart for me):

In case you can't read it, here is the text: "Once upon a time there was a girl called Mary. The dragon tried to eat her but suddenly out of the bushes came a KNIGHT in shining armour! When the dragon breathed fire the knight fell off his horse and then the princess came down and kicked the dragon. And the dragon was straight dead and the knight said thank you for saving me and then they got married. The end."
This story was transcribed by Becks, by the way. Apparently word-for-word, though. I love it that he let me kill the dragon. And that it was straight dead. That is an awesome story.

And more four-year-olds love me, too! Why is that? What is it about the four-year-old mind that likes me so much? Seriously, my life is so strange. Now all I need to find is a 29-year-old man with the mind of a four-year-old. No, wait. That's not right, either. Sigh.

Where does the time go?

I can't believe it is already Thursday! Time has gone really quickly this week... there has been a lot of listening to stories and trying to teach the essentials for these guys when they go home. I have been meeting with each of the students to do some debriefing and catching up before they head off, and that's been good and sometimes hard. It's so hard to know what to say when somebody tells me about something that was disappointing for them or was really hard, and I know that it didn't have to be that hard. I mean, in some cases, it's disappointing for me, too. I always wonder if I should have somehow known it would happen and stopped it somehow. And then again, some things I DID know would be hard, but I guess I anticipated them being dealt with differently, and being a great growing experience instead of an "I cannot actually believe that happened" kind of thing.

Anyway, hindsight and all that... on the other hand, there are also really great things that happened! Some of the students got to do amazing things that they never knew they could do, and meet people that they never knew existed and see a way of life that will forever change the way they live theirs. And that is an amazing thing. God was (and still is) so good to these guys.
Part of my challenge is to bring that to the attention of those who maybe missed it at the time.

Okay, so serious. In spite of having a lot to do, I also get to spend a lot of time having fun and laughing at everyone's pictures and crazy stories and just being with students. Woot! (Which, by the way, I just found out was the Mirriam-Webster word of the year last year. According to Isaac, who I generally find to be a reliable source.)

And that's my life. Tomorrow I have the very difficult and burdensome task of taking all the students and staff to the Bay of Islands and going jet-boating. Yes, feel sorry for me. Maybe I will finally get a tan!

Here I Go Again

The students have been back for one day, and I'm starting to get back into the swing of things. It's actually really good to have them here. It's fun to have people around again.

It's been a little weird, though, for the last day. Outreach is such a weird thing, and it changes you, but it's SO different from normal life that it's hard to really figure out how you have changed right away. And there's all the mix of emotions: total exhaustion from two months of cross-cultural living and traveling, excitement about what God did, disappointment about what he didn't do that you expected him to... relief at being back in a nice, clean, safe place, and guilt at being here while the very people that you spent the last two months with stay in their third-world existence... it's all a lot to take in. You can actually feel it on the base; the sense of being unsettled is almost tangible as these guys process and try to figure out what it all means.

For me, it's so tempting to just say, "here's what you do. Here's how you changed, and here's what you should feel." Because, I think, at this point, some of them would really like some definition. And maybe the things I say would be true, but they are just not for me to say. Which is hard mostly because I want people to be comfortable and happy and feel good. But I really have to be careful, because there's so much value in the tension. It's so important to say, "hey, what is God saying to you? What did he do? Who does he say that you are?" And let people figure it out for themselves. It's hard, but there has to be a safe place where you let the questions simmer a little bit, and where you are really listening to God. If these guys left here with nothing but the ability to ask good questions and to let God in to the answers to those questions, I think the DTS would be a success.

I think that this is what I really love about what I do. I get to make a place to listen and learn and ask questions and figure out a way to channel that all into something that will influence who they are going to be for the rest of their lives. And I think that something I'm really good at is helping people feel okay with that process, because sometimes it can be excruciating. But it's worth it.

Man, I don't know if I'm making sense right now at all. This whole day has been spent trying to communicate with people who are tired, and who are from several different cultures and have spent the last two months in even more different cultures. I totally struggle to say things in a way that everybody will understand. But if they understand, at the end of the day, that they are loved, I guess that's good enough. So I hope that, if nothing else, they got that.

Anyway, that's the brain spew that happens on a day in the life of a DTS leader. If you made it through, thanks for reading! By the way, you are loved, too.

Amazon.com is Stalking Me!

Okay, that's logically not true, because if it was true, I probably would not have gotten an email from Amazon.com this morning telling me that I should buy The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Because if they were really stalking me, they would know that I already own it. But it was still a little strange. Also, it alerted me to the fact that yes, everyone else already does know about this book. So... good job.

The students are back! I picked the India team up today after a quick stop at my favorite place, Borders book store. I know that I should probably be like, "go independent, locally owned and run bookstore!" But there's just something about a familiar place when you are across the world from home, and Borders, being a franchise, is the same in NZ as it is in America, and I like it there. Also, they have a fantastic coffee shop (also franchise, sorry) inside, and it's one of those places where it's totally fine to take as many unpaid-for books and magazines into the coffee shop, and sit and read them while you drink your mango fruit chiller. Or some sort of coffee, if you like that sort of thing. In New Zealand, there are not a lot of places that I know of where I would be comfortable to do that. But in Borders, I know the ropes.

Sigh. Anyway, after my brief stop, I proceeded to the airport to pick up my students. Also, let me just tell you that I drove with the trailor the whole way there and back. I'm proud of myself.

So everyone's doing okay. To be perfectly honest, these guys smelled terrible when they finally got to NZ. In all fairness, they've been travelling for a long time. But I will say that I drove with the window down the whole way, even though there is currently a tropical storm raining down on us. It's all good, now, because they are clean and fed and catching up on all the things they need to. The Vanuatu team will get in any minute now. So it's back to work for me! I really love these guys, and processing and debriefing, etc., is really important, but part of me just wants to go to bed and not be the one responsible for this stuff. Two more weeks, and then I will have a real break. Kind of. :) Anyway, I'm off for some catch-up and Speed Scrabble!

Summertiiiiiiiiiime

Oh, man. It is hot here today. I woke up at 8 am (admittedly not that early, but...) baking to death under my metal roof. Don't worry, I survived. And it only got more and more hot as the day went on. Dad, you would have really loved it, I'm sure.

I needed to clean the student bunkrooms before they get back here on Sunday, so today I designated vacuum day. And let me tell you, it was the sweatiest vacuuming I have ever done in my life. Finally I finished, and gave up the pretense of any more manual labor for the day. I am so spoiled. My next two weeks are going to be intense, though, so I feel okay about my afternoon of leisure. Anyway, I did lay outside in the sun and read, which was awesome. I am not tan, though. What is with that?

The book I was reading is called The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, and it is really good. Maybe everyone in America has heard of this book already, because the back of the book cover says that it has been "widely read and admired all around the world." And it turns out that there is a movie of it, too. But I just found it in the $5.00 book stack at The Warehouse, and thought it looked interesting. It's written by Jean-Dominique Bauby, who was at one time the editor of French Elle, and then had a massive stroke and was basically trapped inside his own body and wrote the book by blinking one eye and spelling words to an assistant. And so far, I really like it. A lot. I could tell you more about it when I am finished and ready to analyze, but I probably won't. It's not very long, though, if anyone wants to read it.

Anyway, I had a good day. Two more days, and then everyone comes back. Hmmm. Mixed feelings. But for now, I will enjoy my summer.

Oh, The Taste Buds

So, tonight I made the worst food that I think I have ever made. I mean, it was bad. I have eaten some bad things in my day...most of it I did not actually make... but this was really up there on the list of bad stuff. Like, just below fruit bat and duck fetus. Seriously.

It started out as mince (ground beef, to Americans). This was the only red meat that I could find in my freezer, and I thought I should eat some and give the old iron a boost. I didn't really have much else to cook with it, so I just cooked it. And sprinkled in some seasoning that I found in the cupboard. And this is where everything went oh so wrong. I put in this Creole seasoning that a former DTS student sent to the staff from New Orleans, and that we all divided up and I keep mine in a jelly bean jar hidden away on a shelf. But this seemed like the perfect chance to use it, so I pulled it out. I did not, of course, pre-taste it or think much about it, but I just scooped a couple of spoonfuls onto the meat while it was cooking. And then I had a taste. Oh, man. That stuff is saltier than salt.

I like salt. But this was ridiculous. I tried pouring all kinds of other sauces on to neutralize the saltiness, but no. And I was kind of desparate for red meat, so I made a valiant attempt to choke half of it down before I gave up. And I had made these great oven fries and fresh green beans, and I could not taste them, because the salt pretty much ruined my mouth. I can still taste salt. Blech. Is there a cure for too much salt?

You've gotta love a life where the worst thing that happens in a day is eating meat with too much salt. Although, I mean, it was a LOT of salt. The moral of the story is: watch out for Creole Seasoning.

Back to Life, Back to Reality

Sometimes I ask myself: why did I not become a Secret Agent? Most of the times that I ask myself this are the times that I am watching Alias. Like today. Seriously, I think I would be a good secret agent. Nobody would suspect me.

Anyway, I'm back at Oak Ridge. It was good to get a break, even if I was only a ten minute drive away. But there are outreach teams to keep track of and registrations to follow up on, and basically a job to do. This is the stuff that it is hard to find motivation to do, because it is mostly administrative. But necessary, to keep working with people, which is what I love doing, and get to do most of the time.

But also, people are so weird. I think that is actually why I like working with people, but also sometimes it makes me want to bang my head against a wall. I like that there is no formula for helping people grow and get along and follow God. I love the mystery and the beauty of the fact that nobody is the same. But I also HATE that there is no formula... because it often leaves me totally confused and worried that I'm going to mess somebody's life up. The last couple of days I've been talking to one of my team leaders out on the field, trying to figure out the best way to deal with a situation that arose in the team. And it's such a weird position to be in-- wanting so badly to do the right thing and knowing it will affect people and in the end just having to do something and hoping and praying that it's the right thing. And that's just me. Imagine what the team leader feels like! At least I am thousands of miles away.

Things like that are what make me think about being a secret agent, because sometimes dressing up like another person and lying my way through a secret mission seems like it must be so much easier than dealing with a situation in an honest and genuine way. Also, I would really like to be able to kick people's butts like Sydney Bristow does.

P.S. Dear Secret Agents of the world: I'm sure that your job is very difficult and that I have totally misrepresented you. And maybe Alias is not the best model of what the world of espionage is really like. Don't email me.

Bringing in the Sheaves

So... actually, it was bales of hay, not sheaves of wheat. And also, it was only a couple of hours of the last few weeks that I was involved in said baling of hay. But I like my title, anyway.

I've been a bit out of blogging commission for a while (after my one paltry post) because I was gone for the holidays. Since I'm living alone right now in a very quiet and remote place, one of the local families took me in, and I've been staying with them for a couple of weeks. I have to say, they have spoiled me rotten. If I am ever home for the holidays again, I hope that I treat anyone who is visiting just as well as I was treated this year. It was really, really nice.

And now it's really summer and it's been warm and beautiful for a week or so. I was staying in a bach (like a vacation home, kind of, in NZ) for the last couple of days, and it had a beautiful view of Pahi bay, and this amazing garden with beautiful flowers and a lounge chair on a sunny deck, and cable television. Yeah, seriously. That's what my life has been like for the last few days. We won't talk about the horrible cats at the bach, though. My foot will never be the same.

And then, of course, there is the hay. This week the family that adopted me for Christmas is baling their hay fields and stacking it in the barn. I got to help on Monday. It was so fun! I mean, I'm probably not the most helpful participant, but still. I roll bales of hay across a field so that a machine can pick them up and load them onto the back of a truck. And then, when all the hay is stacked on the truck, I get to climb on top of it all and ride back to the barn, and then pretend to help Grant (the farmer) stack the hay in the barn, while actually just pushing and rolling the bales around until somebody stronger than me comes along and lifts it onto the stack. It's kind of itchy and dusty and really sweaty, but I like it. Maybe it just feels good to have something active to do.

Anyway, I think that pretty much catches up the last couple of weeks. I miss home a lot, but I've been so blown away by how much everyone has looked out for me and stuff. I am totally blessed.