Broken....

Moving half-way around the world has its risks...  It can't be done without enduring some bumps and bruises - both figuratively as well as literally.  Recently I've been experiencing the literal aspect of this reality.

Last week I received a chest of items from home.  I had given my family a rather detailed list of odds-and-ends I wanted them to pack up for me, which they willingly did.  (Thank you!!)  The chest was then shipped to a colleague in California and then Steve brought it with him on his trip to Uruguay, with a stop-off in Brazil first.  That chest, and its contents, put in a lot of miles in order to land on my doorstep a week ago!

Unfortunately, not all of the items made is "safely".  Two ceramic casserole dishes didn't weather the trip very well at all.  They had been a gift to me from a friend and her parents - she was with me when I first saw them in an antique shop and couldn't get my eyes off of them.  So she and her parents decided to surprise me with a "just because" gift several weeks later.  And my sentimental heart wanted them with me in my new home here in Montevideo...

But the move was too much for them... and they were too frail.  

Last week I was in the midst of an intense schedule - meetings from 9:00 a.m. to 11:00 p.m.  - when my head "broke".  Migraine symptoms appeared and have woven themselves in-and-out over the past four days.  I hate when this happens!!  Although I get them infrequently, they can be a real nuisance when they show up and they seem to be triggered by any number of things.  But they require me to lie in bed with the room darkened - forced into a posture of rest and inactivity until the pain and visual issues subside.

Broken...  It's not a descriptive word I like - especially not for me!  I like to believe I'm capable... competent... strong... an accomplisher...  Anything BUT someone who just spent large portions of the past four days resting in bed.  But my physical body has stopped me short... and God has been speaking to me through this experience.

Things break... everything has its weak points.  And it's better, and wiser, to acknowledge this reality than to just charge my way through life under the false pretense that my strength makes me unbreakable when God actually says the exact opposite - God's power is made perfect in my weakness  (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).  

I don't have to fake being strong... and I don't have to rush to glue back together the broken bits...  Somehow His power is present even in my frailties, inadequacies and weakness.  Brokenness can actually be a good thing.  It's what let's His power be evident.

So, thanks, dear friend, for the ceramic casserole dishes - I still wish they were in one piece... but they've taught me an important lesson in their broken state as well.

It happened today... spontaneously

Well... it happened... 

today... 

spontaneously... 

and it left me feeling reassured.

I was part of a meeting this morning in which a group of us gathered together to process a challenging situation that one couple is experiencing.  As we entered into their pain, we listened, asked questions, attempted to gain understanding, offered perspective, and, hopefully, helped these friends know that they are not alone in the midst of the difficult circumstances. My heart and mind felt heavy, at times, throughout the interaction - wishing so much to be able to make a significant difference in the dynamics of the situation yet knowing it's all beyond my ability to control. We ended our time together with prayer and, in my heart, I committed myself to remain in prayer for these new friends.  

Afterward, as I began my walk home, I recognized a desire to pour out this burden to God.  After all, He knew all that was happening and was the only one able to intervene in a significant way with all that had just been shared with us.  As I turned my heart towards him in prayer, the first word that formed in my thoughts and on my lips was "Papá"!  It caught me by surprise... so I repeated it... several times...  And with each repetition I felt more assured by its utterance.  "Papá." ...  "Papá." ...  "Papá."

In the Gospel of Mark, it is recorded that Jesus used the term "Abba" on an occasion when referring to God-the-Father. As one website explains:

The word ’ab·ba’′ in Aramaic corresponds to the emphatic or definite form of ’av, literally meaning “the father,” or “O Father.” It was the intimate name used by children for their fathers and combines some of the intimacy of the English word “papa” while retaining the dignity of the word “father,” being both informal and yet respectful. It was, therefore, an endearing form of address rather than a title and was among the first words a child learned to speak.
(http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20090323043615AAHRrHS)

I remember hearing this type of an explanation from a Christian leader as a teen and being told that it's beneficial for us to be able to see God as our "Daddy", too - to foster interaction with God that is full of love and trust that's present in a healthy father-child relationship.  If Jesus referred to God as "Abba", surely we could enter into this level of intimacy in our understanding of him as well.

The only problem was - it never worked that way for me.  As hard as I tried, I could never feel comfortable referring to God as "Daddy".  He was my Savior, my LORD, my Father (uttered with respect and a bit of formality)... but not my "Daddy".  Until today, that is, when the word burst into my thoughts before I knew it... spontaneously... and formed in Spanish, not English. :)  "Papá."  


And it felt good. In fact, given the context, it felt incredibly reassuring. I could come to God, as a child, with my heavy burden. I could call out to him full of intimate respect yet fully aware of my need.  And I could trust that he cared... that he was available and would respond.

I'm grateful for this experience... grateful for this expanded awareness of who God is as he relates with me... grateful to be able to call him "Papá" with childlike faith.

And I'm grateful the Spanish language has given me a term that is more comfortable for me  to use as I think of "Abba" - "Papá" connects with me in a way that "Daddy" never did.

Embracing Ambiguity...

I came to Uruguay fully aware that I didn't know anything. I came as a child... I came knowing that I would make a fool of myself more often than not (which is the case in cross-cultural adjustment). I came acknowledging the fact that I would have much to learn.

But I am a list-maker, a planner and a lover of "doing". I analyze situations, set goals and move forward in perhaps minuscule, but at least progressive, steps. Give me chaos and I will exert energy to create order. Present me with a challenge and I will attempt to find a way through the maze.

So 4+ weeks into this adventure... this experience... this adjustment... and I am beginning to chafe at the bit. I know that I am still in the learning process (and WILL be for the foreseeable future!) but I feel this need to engage in something bigger than my seemingly mundane tasks of the every-day. I want a bigger picture than simply making it to Spanish class each day. 

And so I come face-to-face with the underlying issue. What will I do with the ambiguity of my current situation? This ambiguity comes to me in many forms - not understanding all that is being said around me in Spanish, not knowing the city and its bus routes, only beginning to know names and faces and personal stories, getting used to the bank and supermarket and stores, and not yet being able to answer the question "why am I here?"  

This is the ambiguity that I face each day...

What will I do with it?

God has been inviting me to enjoy the space and the lack of answers... to not rush to make my lists and accomplish my tasks... but to let this ambiguity be my friend... to embrace it as a teacher and let it shape me. Stripping away my crutches and modus  operandi, I am almost forced to rely on something other than myself and my abilities. This ambiguity creates room for God to be at work... in me... and in spite of me. As I invite Him into this unknown arena, I learn to lean back into Him... to trust Him with it all... to trust Him with myself...  creating room for transformation.

Backyard breezes...

(the following is an excerpt from today's journal entry)

It was a really hot, bright, sunny day today - my 9th day here in Uruguay - but the breeze in Anna Ruth's backyard, as the sun begins to set, is very refreshing.  It's the perfect spot for me to be as I let the tension and tiredness of the day slide off of me.

Too much chaos...  too much uncertainty... too much new... too much feeling like the outsider...  Add to that my sister's knee surgery and John's pacemaker replacement procedure back in Pennsylvania today and the emotional drain got the best of me.  Tears spring readily to my eyes and spill onto my cheeks.  Sadness is the descriptive word for the day.

I stepped into Matt & Toni's life here in Montevideo in the midst of an incredibly busy season for them (list of specifics follows).  And then there's me... plopped in the middle of it all...  hating to need anything from anyone...  yet being more needy than I like to admit in this time of transition...

I'm not a child...  I've been through this kind of change numerous times before in my life... but that doesn't take away the disoriented, displaced feeling that I'm currently experiencing - it explains it but it can't make it go away.

And so here I am...  sitting in Anna Ruth's backyard...  enjoying the quiet space and the breeze...  listening to the wind chimes...  and letting the emotions flow.

Tomorrow will be a new day...  the sun is expected to shine brightly again...  my emotions might get the better of me again... but there is sure to be a refreshing breeze to be found in the backyard.

Thank You, God, for backyard breezes... for quiet moments with You... 

The "aloneness" of transition

I stepped off the plane at the airport in Montevideo, Uruguay less than a week ago.  The warm air and bright sunshine that greeted me were clear indicators that Pennsylvania, and all that was familiar to me there, had been left behind.  The Daniels family's reception was so welcoming - they had been eagerly awaiting my arrival for many months - and the surroundings felt familiar to me since I had visited for two weeks in August 2011.

Transplanting myself into a new context, language and culture will take time.  I wish there was a magic button that could be pushed to take away all the newness or aspects of being foreign but there isn't one.  I struggle to understand the Spanish being spoken around me and I look forward to immersing myself in language classes.  I'm learning to greet people by giving one kiss in the air as our right cheeks press against each other.  I'm exploring how to cook with the items I can find in the grocery store or the market. And I'm enjoying the end-of-the-summer weather here in the southern hemisphere.

In the midst of all of the observing and adapting, I'm occasionally feeling very alone...  I am the new kid on the block... and the foreigner, at that.  People are kind and gracious but I still feel the tinge of friendships that need time to develop and activities and routines that are not yet established.  While I know that God wants me here, quite some time will probably need to pass before I really feel like I belong.   Although uncomfortable, it's a common human experience in the midst of change.  

In many ways I am alone... and that can sometimes lead to a sense of loneliness.  And so I've been pondering this concept of loneliness... of being alone.  And I've been taking the emotions of it to God.  I've been finding a comfort in knowing that although I might feel alone, in reality I'm not.  I have brothers and sisters in this place.  I have the promise of friendships and meaningful relationships that will most likely develop.  And I know that my God is with me.

Several months ago one of Matt Daniel's friends shared a song with him that he felt was a "theme song" for the ministry I am now a part of.  The title of the song is Never Alone by Matt Redman.  Check it out below:

Blue skies, palm trees and learning curves

I landed in sunny Montevideo yesterday around lunch time.  I knew I was in a different location when I could strip off my sweater outside of the airport and feel the warm rays hit my skin.   The palm trees surrounding the airport parking lot seemed to be waving their greeting as the gentle breeze played with their fronds.  I never cease to be amazed at the possibilities of modern transportation - Tuesday I woke up in cold Pennsylvania, Wednesday I climbed off a plane in South America!  

I visited Uruguay for two weeks in August 2011 - a chance to explore the possibility of serving here long term.  The experience gave me the affirmation I was seeking - yes, God seemed to be inviting me to join the work of His Kingdom in this location.  The past 1 1/2 years have been full of preparation in anticipation for this moment!

And now I'm here - not as a tourist just passing through but as someone who will have the privilege of calling this place "home."  God, help to make this place my home...

For now, I'm trying to take in as much as I can but reminding myself that adjustment takes time and the learning curve is steep!  With this in mind, I'm learning:

• where the supermarket is and discovering what is/isn't available there. 
• the layout of the neighborhood where I'm currently living and I'm looking forward to long walks that will help me get oriented.
• that my Spanish is slowly rising to the surface but some time of intense study will prove helpful.
• that people are friendly and humility is a good thing.
• that God has been here long before me and is with me in each moment of each day.

That last point is important... may I sense the many things that God is doing here and respond to His invitation to join Him in it.

Paperwork and Prayer

This morning I had three different gov't offices to visit in order to pick up two documents and then get apostilles (official stamps)  on both of them. The documents will be used in my application for residency once I land in Uruguay.

I arrived at the first location, the State Police Headquarters just outside of Harrisburg, at 9:30 a.m. I needed a notarized Criminal Record Report and the document was waiting for me at the counter by the visitor's entrance, just as arranged earlier in the week. I was so pleased!!

So I drove downtown to the Dept. of Vital Records office which is close to the capitol complex. My birth certificate was also waiting for me at the counter (I had handed in the request form the previous week). No glitches!!

And I was off - walking a few blocks to the State Dept. office adjacent to the Capitol building. The chilly wind quickened my steps as I rushed past imposing buildings. I went through security control as I entered the building and then made my way to the second floor office that takes care of placing apostilles on official documents for use in foreign countries. They took my Criminal Record report and my Birth Certificate, gave me a buzzer apparatus and told me to wait in the seating area in the hall - they'd buzz me when the papers were ready. Not more than 15 minutes later my buzzer went off and I collected my documents. Wow!

I walked back to the parking garage and headed out of Harrisburg almost exactly 45 minutes after I had arrived at the State Police Headquarters!! The paperwork was completed in 45 minutes. Unreal!!  I had been prepared for potential problems and encountered none.  So grateful!

On a side note, as I walked around the Pennsylvania State government complex, I found myself wondering what kind of issues were being discussed and what form of deals were being made behind these walls?  While I have a deep respect for the public's need to be "governed", I'm often saddened by our government's current state of affairs.  And so I found myself spontaneously bursting into prayer for those in power...  That they would be moved to act justly...  That they would come to love righteousness...  That they would not be controlled by the tyranny of manipulation...  

I confess that I don't pray for government officials very often.  Today's experience created a new sense of calling --  if I don't pray for our government, who will?  And, am I willing to do so on a regular basis?  

Anyone want to join me?