Muddled Thoughts

Somehow blogging was easier when no one was reading it :) And I suppose that may be the case now, since so much time has passed since my last post. But I know I need to keep this thing going. It's just that...I'm not so sure I want to share some stuff that I think about. What if you don't like it? What if you think I am way out of line?

But the other day I shared an idea with my son and he practically made me promise to write it down and post it. I say he practically did...I still haven't done it yet, but that's not to mean I won't. I got to work up to it.

I've taken a small break from writing just about anything. Why? Life is a little crazy at the moment. A couple of years ago I'd look at the parents of high school seniors and wonder what the fuss was all about. What did they mean that having a senior made life crazy at the end of the year?

Now I have a senior. And life is crazy. Now I get it.

I'm working on a Tshirt quilt for him. Memories displayed in Tshirts all the way from middle school days. Yes, I kept them and carted them around through three moves to three different islands. It is coming along well and I am already eyeing the Tshirts of my younger sons. They come downstairs after changing out of their school uniforms and I look at them and think, "Oh, that will be great on their senior quilt!"

I've got to clear my desk off though, so I can put my sewing machine on it to sew it all together. I remember that there was once a desk...I'm hoping it's still there, under all the junk that I piled on it just days after cleaning it off and telling myself "this looks so great, I'll never junk up my desk again." This time, if I find my desk, I'll keep it clean. I promise.

And speaking of promises, I need to write that post my son told me I should write.

But first things first. I gotta finish his quilt.

Having a senior in the house is crazy at the end of the school year.

Clouds

NORTH AFRICA? Are you kidding me? I am so excited! I've been asked to lead a Bible Study at a retreat in a few months...in North Africa. Those of you who know our history know that this means I get to go back to our "old stompin' grounds," or at least close to it. I am endlessly thankful for the opportunity and am beside myself with excitement.

I had several ideas already for what I could do and was making little mental notes and trying not to get too invested in case it didn't work out. But a Skype call on Friday confirmed that all is a "go" and I can buy my tickets. Woohoo!

But also, after talking for over an hour with my friend, a cloud of doubt crept into my head.

What do I have to offer these ladies? Nothing!

I watched helplessly as the doubt monster flung all my ideas out the window. (Oops, I already described the doubt as a cloud and now it's a monster. I guess it was a cloudy monster...or a monstrous cloud. Either way, it stomped on my happiness.)

After the conversation, I drove to school to pick up the kids. I parked the car and walked across campus to sit on a bench overlooking the beach. Yes, you read that right, my kids go to school by the beach. Life is crazy.

The benches are at the edge of a drop-off that goes down to a second ledge and then the beach. From here, I had a beautiful view of the water and the mainland in the distance. On this day, the view took my breath away. A storm approached and dark clouds shaded the water, turning it to a beautiful turquoise, like a sparkling gem. I was overcome with peace.

God orchestrated that storm: the rain-filled clouds, the color of the water, the cool wind. He was completely in control of it. If He can do all of that--can create something so magnificent--He can guide me to prepare for this retreat.

"Remember to extol his work, which men have praised in song. All mankind has seen it; men gaze on it from afar. How great is God--beyond our understanding!...He draws up the drops of water, which distill as rain to the streams; the clouds pour down their moisture and abundant showers fall on mankind. Who can understand how he spreads out the clouds...God's voice thunders in marvelous ways he does great things beyond our understanding." (from Job 36 and 37)

Unusual Christmas Guests

“They are gonna rob you blind,” someone said. I couldn’t argue because they voiced the words I was already thinking.

“We’ll lock the bedroom doors,” I offered.

I glanced around the living room. By American standards we have a simple home. But we do have a bookcase filled with books and curios from around the world. I imagined myself welcoming our guests by saying, I’m sorry you can barely feed your family, but do you see my beautiful blown-glass vase from Egypt? With the money I paid for it, you could have a new set of clothes, or buy dinner for all fifteen people crammed into your tiny home. Yeah, I better clear off the bookshelf before they come.

We are inviting a rather poor family to our home during the Christmas season. It’s not just a poor family: it’s a poor family with some unsavory habits and characteristics. That’s why we’ll need to lock the doors. But here’s the thing, Jesus didn’t come for the well, He came for the sick, right?

So  my “to do” list to get ready for our guests is:

1.      Find a place for our dog to go for the day. Dogs are dirty in their religion.

2.      Find a place to cater some rice and meat. My kitchen is not halal since I cook with pork. I’ll need to buy food from a halal restaurant.

3.      Find the keys to all our bedroom doors. Seriously.

4.      Bake cookies and lots of them.

5.      Find a carpet to put on the floor so guests can sit on the floor as well as the furniture. That's how we roll in this part of the world.

This list is a little different from your basic “get ready for Christmas” list right? You aren’t gonna find this one on Pinterest! But here’s the other thing. Because this family is…well…because they are who they are…here is what WON’T matter:

1.      If the house is clean

2.      If the house smells nice

3.      If the Christmas tree is big and beautiful

4.      If my hosting skills are perfect

5.      If my furniture matches

Just the fact alone that they will come to our house is special enough for them. Nothing else matters, everything else is “icing on the cake”…I guess in this culture we might say “Everything else is extra servings of dried fishies on the rice."

And I got to thinking…

When God invites me to Himself, to His love, to His will…am I a cleaned up proper guest who evaluates everything He does for me? Or am I just an unworthy sinner who is so happy to simply be invited?

This poor…can we even say unsavory?...family is teaching me a lot about how to be a better servant for my Master.

Pray that this family will feel loved in our home and will have ears to hear the Reason for the Season.

I Hope I Never Need Him

A ballroom filled with stylish crafts, expensive handmade jewelry, and organic soaps: not exactly my cup of tea, but I was curious enough to step in. I listened to a lady try to sell Moroccan oils to me just to hear her French accent; I perused the more-than-I-could-afford leather purses, and eyed the beaded jewelry from a distance. I sampled some chocolate cranberry candy and thought about buying some, but when I read the price chart, I opted to hope my taste buds had a good memory, because that’s the only way I’d be enjoying that flavor again.

Finally I found a booth with some creative pictures made out of flowers and leaves. They were intricately designed patterns and a decent price too. I couldn’t seem to pass it up, so I stood there, admiring each design. I noticed a lady beside me who also appreciated the pictures.

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yes!” She agreed in a heavy accent. “They are just wonderful. I can’t decide which design I should buy. Do you think I should buy the framed picture or the ones without a frame?”

“Hmmmm,” I began.

“I think without the frame. I don’t really like the frame, do you? I think I can buy a frame myself. Which of these do you think I should buy?”

And the conversation continued like this as I pretended to help her choose the pictures she would purchase. Really she seemed to have her own confident opinion. I mostly just agreed with her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, my name is Paree,” the woman stopped shopping and held her hand out in greeting. “Like ‘Paris’ without the ‘s’.”

“My name is Jana, so nice to meet you.” We shook hands and it was then that I stopped to examine my new friend. She was an older lady, heavy set and tan, sophisticated, and carried a kind expression on her face.

“Your accent is lovely, where are you from?”

Now I have never been accused of having a lovely accent, so I was appreciating this lady more and more. “I’m from the United States.”

“Oh! There are so many accents in the United States, and not all of them are nice, sorry to say. Take Texas for example…oh!” She brushed the ugly thought away with a sweep of her hand. “What state you from?”

Well, this is going to be awkward.

“Texas.”

“Oh! But you don’t sound like it.”

“Well, I haven’t really lived there that much. So where are you from?”

“Iran.”

“Wow, really? Why are you in Penang?”

“My husband works here. And you?”

“Because of my husband’s job as well. My children attend school at DIS.”

“Oh! All three of my children went to DIS.” She grabbed my arm. “DIS is a very good  school. You know, we are Muslim, and everyone wanted to know why we sent our children to a Christian school. But it was no problem, it is such a good school. You know, it’s the cheapest American school in Southeast Asia.”

“So they were kind and accepting of your family?”

“Oh yes. And you know, they don’t have a lot of facilities, but they teach the children the value of money. And the students, they are not spoiled American children…sorry…like in other American schools. They are a very good school. Don’t worry, your children will be fine!”

I asked more about her children, who graduated in the 90s. They attended universities and found employment in the United States and in Australia. Paree continued to rave about DIS and encourage me that it was such a good school.

When we parted ways, she handed me a business card. “This is my husband’s card, I hope you never need it.”

What a curious thing to say. I looked down at the card. Neurosurgeon. Paree is right, I hope I never need him.

To The Lady in the Pink Hat

We saw you at the edge of the water as we finished dinner at a seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

How could we miss it? 

You were covered in black from head to toe. 

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your pink hat caught our attention. 

A big floppy pink hat. 

With it you said,

"I am here! I am beautiful!"

And I know you are.

Not because I can see past the  black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But because I know your Creator.

And He makes all things beautiful.

We joined you at the edge of the water, after we finished dinner at the seaside cafe.

A lady in a pink hat.

"We love your hat!"

You were covered in black from head to toe.

You looked like the other covered ladies walking by.

But your eyes shone like sapphires.

Under the floppy hat.

Your husband said,

"She is too beautiful for others to see."

We chat for a few minutes.

It's tricky because of the black cloth that engulfs even your face.

But I know your Creator.

And I'm asking Him to make all things beautiful.

You won't be standing there on the beach the next time I'm at the seaside cafe.

Lady in the pink hat.

You'll be back home.

You'll be covered in black from head to toe.

Surrounded by covered ladies walking by.

But God has set eternity in your heart.

So I will pray for you.

The Lady in the Pink Hat.

Touch

In your village today, I held your baby. He is so tiny, so perfect.

I glance around the crazy home he has been born into.

It’s not just the dirty floor we sit on, or the man smoking in the corner.

It’s not just the smell of too many bodies living in one place.

It’s the spiritual darkness that permeates this dim room.

It’s the despair in the grandmother’s eye.

But you don’t seem worried like me. This is all you know.

Your baby: everyone is afraid to touch him. He’s so tiny they might hurt him.

I’m not afraid. I know he won’t break. Not from a gentle touch.

A gentle touch.

People don’t touch very much around here do they?

The first time we met, I was surprised. I shook hands with your mother, but no one else.

And now, as I cuddle the tiniest little baby in my arms, I try to remember.

Do you touch at all?

I have seen people slap…a lot. Parents slapping children. Children slapping each other.

In fact, come to think of it, I myself have been slapped in the face by one of the kids!

Jesus used touch.

When Jesus touched, He healed the broken. When Jesus touched, He blessed the children.

You are broken. How can I show you that Jesus heals?

You have children. How can I bless your children with Jesus' love?

You’ve never felt a loving touch. You’ve never felt His healing touch.

Will you let me get close? Will you let me pat your shoulder, hug you, hold your hand?

It’s a risk for me too you know. The last time you came close, you tried to steal from my purse.

The last time I leaned in close, I think I got lice.

But I am here to share the love of Jesus. And Jesus touched people.

So I will hold your baby, I will hold your hand.

And if need be, take another slap on the face.

Jesus offers you healing and blessing.

It’s a gentle touch.

Will you accept it?

Out of the Rut

Sunday Morning Breakfast!

My parents' recent visit reminded me to enjoy the things that are available here that I take for granted. I get stuck in a rut and am appeased by the easy rather than making just a little more effort to enjoy what's at my fingertips. Like tropical fruit. Why be satisfied with lengkeng only when I could enjoy lengkeng AND a few pieces of jackfruit? Or why not take the time to cut up some pomelo and mango?

Because of my parents we found tempe and dried shrimp chips. We discovered a market we hadn't been to before and watched a beach sunset we wouldn't have stopped long enough to enjoy. We played a lot of Scrabble. People should take the time to play a lot of Scrabble. I learned the word bivouac. I am ashamed to say that I didn't know that word. We played corn hole and frisbee and 42. We watched movies and laughed. We ate at the oldest restaurant building in Penang and I learned all about Hainanese food by reading the menu. We met a funny man who runs a Minang restaurant and we got up early to eat breakfast served at a neighborhood food stall. Who knew they served yummy breakfast? I picked out the cake I want for my birthday next May and I learned I could buy nuts at the nearby market from a lady who mistook me for a Chinese. Ha! That's a first.

Sometimes it takes fresh eyes to appreciate what is all around us. I loved living in Penang all along. But I think I love it just a bit more now.

If we take the time to try something new, see something different, consider something out of our usual routine, we just may find a treasure or two, right where we live!

Bali

You know what I love about Asia? So many places to see! Here is one place we went to recently...Bali. Bali is a little island off the east coast of Java, in Indonesia. Kris and I enjoyed a few days of vacation there while the kids went to camp.

We even got a free upgrade to a pool-entry hotel room !
















We enjoyed the beach... (sorry for the huge pictures lopping over into all my stuff on the right side of the screen).



And some strange sights on the beach...if you look closely you can see a bride and groom posing for a photo shoot, a camel watching (because what screams "TROPICAL ISLAND!" more than a camel strolling along the beach?), and in the tree on the left is yet another lady posing for a separate photo shoot. Seriously? We really just wanted to sit under an umbrella and read a good book. To each his own I guess.



We also watched in fascination as the force of incoming waves crashed into these rocks and sent water soaring into the air...



ok, it was more dramatic in real-life.

In addition to the beach, we enjoyed quaint restaurants, like this one on the edge of a rice paddy...




And what's a trip in Asia without monkeys, right? We went to the Sacred Monkey Forest of Ubud. I'm not a monkey fan, but these bazillion monkeys weren't near as obnoxious as the ones from Java that haunt my memories. Plus we found this really cool old Indiana-Jones-looking stone bridge. (See monkey on the railing in front of us and just to the right...or maybe don't see it. It's a gray bridge with a gray monkey on it, I get that it would be hard for you to see it.)




How's this for a sunrise to wake up to? I never tire of the Lord's artwork in the sky...

Thanks for the memories, Bali!

A Thousand Words

I love to write.

But I think the saying is true:

A picture is worth a thousand words

It would take me at least that many to capture what some artists and photographers can capture in a picture.

Last weekend I purchased some amazing photos from a talented photographer and I can hardly wait to have them printed and framed.

The hardest part about the purchase was picking which ones I wanted the most. You can check out more photos by this photographer on his Facebook Page Josh Wells Photography.

Isn't it amazing how the Lord gives each of us characteristics and talents that are unique and are obviously from Him? They aren't always what we thought they would be but if we take the time to ask Him, the Lord will show us how to use our gifts for His Glory.

Monkey Beach

One Monday not long ago, we took a trip to Monkey Beach. We parked our car at this beach (I still can't believe this is five minutes from our house) and hired a boat to take us around to another beach on the island. So we headed around to the other side of the buildings in this picture.

The boat dropped us off near the entrance to some hiking trails. We hiked for over an hour. It was a pretty good hike, one that was a bit too much for my Walmart tennis shoes that I'd purchased some 6 or so years ago. So I had to rip the sole off the bottom of one of them and hike another half hour without the sole. Does it give away the quality of my shoe when I say that the foot that did NOT have a sole was just as comfortable as the foot that DID have a sole? Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say both feet were equally UNcomfortable.


 This is Monkey Beach. I would guess that it acquired its name from all the curious gray monkeys that come out of the forest to check out the tourists. When we first arrived I threw my tennis shoes in the trash and one of the workers of the food stalls burned the trash while we were there. Well the monkeys found my shoes and rescued them from the pile of burning rubble. They enjoyed my shoes much more than I ever did. They kept fighting over them and sticking their heads inside. After such a long hike, I figure the fumes from the insides of my shoes would make the monkeys pass out when they stuck their heads in. But they never did. In addition to the gray monkeys we also saw two Malayan Giant Squirrels and a baby monitor lizard.

The above picture shows the rope swing that we found and took turns swinging on. For lunch we ate grilled shrimp, chicken, pork, and sausages with mango and pineapple for dessert.

Not a bad way to spend a Monday I'd say!

Dog Lovers

I wouldn't say I'm a dog lover. I like them. I like dog stories. I grew up with a little Japanese Spaniel. But we've lived in Muslim countries for many years and dogs just aren't really an option if we want Muslim friends in our homes. Dogs and pork. They have not been a part of our lives...

Until we moved to this island...

It is such a mix of cultures that there is not one particular prevailing thought here on the island. So...a perfect time to have a dog. A boy should have a dog at some point in his life I think. And since we have three boys then they really should have a dog.

So last summer we adopted a year old female Shih Tzu named Molly (sorry to my sister-in-law, I promise, we didn't name her, she came like that). Molly is a fun little dog to have around. She makes life in the house more lively (as if life with three boys is not lively enough).

Anyway, one of her ears was itchy so I took her to the vet. Because of the countries we've lived in for so many years, the idea of a vet...a real live animal doctor...is still strange to me. It kind of cracks me up. But it is also comforting because since I really don't know the first thing about taking care of a dog, I am glad to know I can pay a lot of money for someone else to tell me what to do.

So this week I took Molly back for her check up. Like most doctors of any kind here, it's first come first serve and I haven't figured out the system of the best time to go. What time will result in the least amount of waiting? It's like tossing the dice. This week I lost.

Molly and I sat in the waiting room for almost two hours. Molly was not impressed because she has a great memory and she remembered what happened two weeks ago. She remembered the freezing cold exam table and the thermometer that got stuck up an uncomfortable place and she remembered the shot and the tweezers crammed down her ear. She sat in my lap and avoided looking at me for two hours. She gave me the silent treatment. She was also unimpressed with the waiting room filled with dogs and their "parents".

One man had a dog that wore a pink ballerina dress. One had a dog wearing a human T-shirt. One had a dog that I swear looked like Gru's monster-pet Kyle in Despicable me, under-bite and all. A lady with a Shih Tzu and a King Spaniel came and sat next to me. She was a talker so I didn't have to worry about being entertained during my wait. She told me all about her six dogs and showed me pictures of them on her phone. While oohing and aaahing over her dog pictures I glanced up and noticed two other people showing each other videos of their dogs on their phones and the thought came to me:

This room is like a room filled with grandparents and their grandchildren. Seriously, that's how they treat their little pooches. It's so funny to me. They talk to them like they are people. They dress them in clothes. This place is a great place to be a dog.

Molly was super unimpressed when her name was called and she had to go to the torture...I mean exam room. This time they didn't attack her with the thermometer, but she still snapped at the doctor when he checked her ear. Then she grabbed on to me like she was a monkey. Good grief.

She got more medicine which I suspect is just a way to get more money out of me. But what do I know? After waiting for so long, I felt like I'd become pretty good friends with the "mommy" of the two pooches I sat by. I smiled and waved goodbye.

I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to how much dogs here are spoiled. But I have to say that it is refreshing to see people that care about God's creatures. Even if they do make them wear ballerina clothes.

A Cactus Kind of Day

It was a cactus sort of day. Or maybe I was the cactus. Admittedly, I was a little prickly. Kris was gone so I was running the house alone. It was a wreck. We were running late for school. I missed the turn to pick up someone who needed a ride. An unnamed individual bumped the gear shift and our car went into neutral while speeding down the road without me realizing what the problem was. You know, one of those kind of mornings.

And for whatever reason, I'd woken up with a foreboding feeling. I had Psalm 42:11 on my mind from the time I rolled out of bed. It's my standard "foreboding feeling" verse.

"Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet raise him, my Savior and my God."

Really, what do I have to be downcast about? When my soul is disturbed, I know deep down that I really have everything. A Savior, the Lord of All. What else do I need?

But I still felt down. And then, after the craziness of getting everyone to school semi-on-time I felt rushed and down. I pulled into the carport and something to the side caught my eye.

It was my cactus.

I say "my cactus" but it was really a flower pot that was left from the previous tenant, about 1 1/2 years ago. I wanted the pot but not the plant. It was an ugly cactus. Bulbs of prickly. All crammed into a flower pot. I didn't want the cactus, but I just never got around to digging it out. I never got around to it because I do not have a green thumb. Which explains why the cactus has outlasted most of the other potted plants I own. It doesn't need that much care.

But what caught my eye was not the cactus itself. Didn't I mention that it was ugly? What caught my eye was two BIG white flowers protruding from the needly plant. How on earth did it produce such beautiful flowers? I got out of the car and walked across the cement to check it out.

Sure enough, two flowers shot out of one of the ugly bulbs. They were soft and lacy and smelled fresh, like baby powder. What on earth? It was like a beautiful gift, a reminder from the Lord to keep perspective on Cactus Days. Be the flower, not the cactus!

Why so downcast? Put your hope in God! I will praise Him, my Savior and my God.

Sometimes

Ever feel like God is asking you to do a crazy thing but you just know it's Him, so you do it?

A couple of months ago I took a group of high school girls on an overnight trip...twenty minutes away! We felt we should prayer walk the area, stay in a certain girls' hostel, and pray over the facility. That's really all we knew, but we felt sure it was from the Lord.

Proceeding with excitement and a little apprehension, we asked the Lord to give us an opportunity to share Jesus with someone.

We settled in our hostel...prayer walked...ate dinner...had coffee...explored...returned to hostel... we talked to a few people, but nothing "big" so to speak. We ended the day playing a game of cards. It wasn't until 11:30 that night that the Lord brought a lady our way. She needed a listening ear and she needed to hear the Gospel. We were given such a sweet opportunity to pray for her and to love her in Jesus name. Here are some things I think we learned:

1. Sometimes you have to share at odd times (we stayed up until 2:30 am talking with her).
2. Sometimes you have to share in weird circumstances (not really the place to share, but trust me, it was a weird situation)
3. Sometimes you have more boldness when you work as a team. All of us spoke to her about Jesus, each of us in our own way.
4. Sometimes God orchestrates divine appointments (this lady decided at the last minute not to return to the hotel she had checked into, but to come check into our hotel instead just for one night...the very night we were there)
5. Sometimes people are ready to hear. We need to be ready to share.
6. Sometimes people say, "Yes! Please pray for me!" We shouldn't be afraid to ask.
7. Sometimes people don't believe. That's not our part. We share. The Holy Spirit convicts.
8. Sometimes you stand back and say, "Did God really just do that?"
9. Sometimes unbelievers see it too. They may not realize it's God. They may say, "Did that really just happen?" And then you smile and say, "Yes it did!" Because you know it's God who did it. He's just that awesome.
10. Sometimes we just have to be willing to do something a little crazy.

Legally Frustrated

Here's more to the immigration saga that began with Good News and Bad News:

So I wanna live here, you know. It's nice here. There are three pretty awesome boys I'd like to hang out with and a pretty awesome man who I married a few years back who I'd like to live with. But I gotta have permission to live here. I can't just move in and expect this quirky little island to welcome me all willy nilly. I gotta do things right.

That's why I was at immigration a couple of weeks ago. Trying to be legal. I was trying to renew my kids' visas and mine as well. We have two different sorts of visas and in the order of all things visa, I have to get the kids' approved first and then apply for mine.

Here's how it goes:

1. Get a letter from the school saying my kids do actually attend.
2. Print out all forms. Guess which ones are still being used. Fill them out. Make copies of every official document of each member of the family that you can possibly think of. Get pictures made of the kids. Not the school pictures that you have on hand. Those have blue background. Must have red background.
3. Take all the forms to immigration. Take a number. Sit (if you can find an empty seat). Turn in paperwork about 2 hours later. Go home.
4. While waiting for a week, go open a bank account (since you don't have one here b/c you just use ATM machines). Banker will ask you to go home and make a bunch of copies of documents that they will later never ask you for. So that makes 2 trips to the bank.
5. Go home and print out bank statement showing all the money you just stuck into the bank account you didn't want.
6. A week later go to immigration to pick up kids' visas. Yay!

That's the good news. The bad news is that on the day my kids' visas came out, my own visa expired. So I had to spend time at immigration applying for a one month visa in order to buy time to renew my year visa. And the other bad news was that Mr. Grumpy was working at immigration.

I hate to write about everything that happened during that SEVEN HOUR visit to immigration but it did involve the following:
1. 200 people jammed into one room
2. a bored, hungry, thirsty, about-to-pass-out anonymous lady
3. a cold bottle of water for sale downstairs that the anonymous lady could not leave to go buy (in case her number was called while she was gone)
4. a squatty potty that the anonymous lady could not visit because of same reason above.
5. Food that anonymous lady did NOT bring with her because who thinks they are gonna spend SEVEN HOURS at immigration?
5. same lady contemplated crawling across the desks and hunting for her paperwork on her own
6. a nice Indian lady who offered anonymous lady a piece of candy about 6 hours into the ordeal. (anonymous lady forgot all polite protocol, though she did smile and say thank you as she snatched the candy and stuck it in her mouth. I do not remember if she even took the wrapper off, I think she was pretty hungry)
7. And Mr. Grumpy, who I already mentioned.

Add it all together and, as they say back home, the anonymous lady was "fit to be tied" (you have to say that in a Texas accent. "Fit" has two syllables and "tied" is pronounced "tad" as in "add a tad more bacon grease to that thar gravy Hunny")

Wait. You may say. What did going to the bank have to do with anything? Well, yes, that is a good question. The bank document was needed for the next trip when I applied for the longer visa, but could not apply for on the same day as the kids' visas because I had to then go back to the school to show the new visas and get a second letter that I could not get that day because immigration was an hour away. See, that was an easy answer.

And when the anonymous lady drove home, feeling defeated and completely frustrated at a wasted day, she remembered to be thankful. In spite of it all, she went home with visas for the kids and a temporary extension for hers. And it's all just part of the package right? We all have things we just hate to do. But sometimes we just gotta put on our big girl panties and do it.

 I have one more trip to make to immigration to finally have legal status in the country for another year. And in the end, I get to live here. Legally. Peacefully. And when it's all said and done, thankful too.

The Good News and The Bad News

Enjoying a beach on the island.

The good news is: I get to live on this beautiful island.
The bad news is: I have to get a visa to do it. Not the plastic card to go shopping with. The boring paperwork kind.

The good news is: I can get one that lasts one year!
The bad news is: my year is up...time to apply again.

The good news is: I know how to do it since I did it last year.
The bad news is: some of the rules have changed.

The good news is: I get all the passports and forms and documents together and I'm ready to go to immigration.
The bad news is: It takes all morning to drive to the mainland, sit at immigration, and wait for my turn to turn in my paperwork.

The good news is: I get to see/meet all sorts of interesting people in the waiting room. Saudis, Sikhs, monks, Indian, Asian, European, children, couples, families.
The bad news is: I have to wait for an hour for my turn and the whole time I have to go to the bathroom.

The good news is: once I turn in my paperwork, I'm done until next week when I come pick up the passports, AND, I know there's a bathroom downstairs.
The bad news is: The one western style toilet has a hose in it. I'm not going to pee on the hose and I'm not about to touch it to take it out just in case someone else DID.

The good news is: There are two Turkish toilets (otherwise known as squatty potties) so I can use one of them.
The bad news is: There is water all over the floor and I have long pants on and am carrying a purse and a large plastic expandable file.

The good news is: I can somehow manage to do my business in a wet bathroom with no shelves and when I slip I don't fall or do the splits...not entirely anyways.
The bad news is: I almost did and I pulled muscles in my leg while trying to save myself.

But the GOOD news is: my kids should get their visas in a week.
The bad news is: my visa will expire in the meantime.

The good news is: They will let me apply for an extension when I go next time.
The bad news is: there are three more next times because I'll have to do this all over again three more times before the process is complete.

The good news is: when it IS complete, I'll get to live on this beautiful island!

#H54F Christmas 'Round The Corner!

Wow, Christmas is only a few days away! A crazy week ends in a calm weekend. Yay for calm weekends!

#1 S went for Xrays and Dr. check up. His arm is looking great and healing well. Yay! We still make him wear a sling when he's out and about and he still has to be EXTRA careful so he doesn't fall on it.

#2 A went to orthodontist with the dreaded message "My dog ate my retainer." Thankfully the orthodontist likes dogs and more than that, she said it wasn't too damaged, he can still wear it. We all breathed a sigh of relief as A knew how much that thing cost!

#3 I got a new phone! A real phone! It happened like this: on Thursday my son J tried to call me from school. I tried to answer his call but my cell phone wouldn't let me pick up. It just kept ringing. Finally it registered that I was receiving two calls from the same phone and I had put one of them on hold. Then it started playing random music that I'd never heard before...loudly. I finally had to take the battery out to make it stop. That was the final straw. No more of this says Kris. We spent the afternoon shopping for my Christmas gift: a smartphone! Woohoo! My phone even knows BOTH of our names (see T9 You're Killin' Me to see why this matters.) I never wanted a smartphone, but now that I have it, I like it :) Thanks Kris!

#4 A aced all his exams. Woohoo!

#5 We watched The Hobbit: The Battle of the Five Armies today. It was great! Loved it! So thankful for a family that likes to hang out and do stuff like that together.

Now on to the weekend and 3 1/2 weeks of Christmas Break for the boys.

What was your week like?

12 Days of Tropical Christmas

I wrote this a couple of years ago to describe our first Christmas in Sumatra. No mouse in my tree this year, but I'll be honest, I cringed just a tad when I opened the box. I knew a live mouse wouldn't run out at me like before because the box was well wrapped. It was finding a dead mouse entombed in the box that I was concerned about. But my fears were unfounded. I thought you might enjoy a new twist to an old favorite!

On the first day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

A mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the second day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Rust on the ornaments, and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the third day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Rain in the evening, rust on the ornaments, and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the fourth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the fifth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the sixth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me
rice and soup and noodles,
Five calls to prayer!
    Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the seventh day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Mold in the kitchen,  rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the eighth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Masses of mosquitoes, mold in the kitchen, rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the ninth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Amoebas in my belly, masses of mosquitoes, mold in the kitchen, rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the tenth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Natalans at the church, amoebas in my belly, masses of mosquitoes, mold in the kitchen, rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the eleventh day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Skype calls to family, Natalans at the church, amoebas in my belly, masses of mosquitoes, mold in the kitchen, rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

On the twelfth day of Christmas the tropics gave to me

Memories to cherish, Skype calls to family, Natalans at the church, amoebas in my belly, masses of mosquitoes, mold in the kitchen, rice and soup and noodles,
five calls to prayer!
Leaks in my bedroom, rain in the the evening, rust on the ornaments and a mouse in my Christmas tree!

10 Life Hacks for Third-World Livin' (from Back in the Day)

Life Hacks would have meant a serial killer holding a machete back when my husband and I first went overseas. Nowadays it means: cool tricks to make life easier.

I didn't have Google or Pinterest or blogs to read back then. I had a Lonely Planet book about our new country in one hand and a copy of Where There Is No Doctor in the other. The rest we just had to figure out along the way.

Because there was nowhere to share my tricks of the trade, most of them have faded into the "I Don't Need That Anymore" corners of my memory. So before I lose every one of them, I thought I'd write them down. And since nowadays I have a blog (we went overseas before internet y'all!) I can share my Life Hacks with you! Now, keep in mind these may be old school...but sometimes old school is cool, right?

1. If you don't have running water, drain your laundry water (from hand-washing or hand-filling your washing machine) into a container (tub, bucket, etc) and use it to flush your toilet. Saves on water and your toilet gets washed with laundry detergent!

2. If your electricity goes out all the time and you want cold water to drink during the day: Buy a large water thermos. Buy a bowl that is big, but small enough to fit into the thermos. Every evening fill the bowl with water and freeze (if you have electricity at night). In the morning, dump the ice into your thermos and fill it with water. Don't forget to refill your bowl and put it back in the freezer for tomorrow. All day long you'll have cold water to drink without opening your fridge and losing the precious cold. We did this for years in Africa.

3. Toothpaste works to ease itchy mosquito bites. Just dab it on every one of them. You can easily count them as you go so that you know how many there are for your next blog or Facebook status. You smell minty fresh, but lint also sticks to your skin. Up to you.

4. If you don't know what you are doing for dinner, but it's time and your hubby and kids are getting hungry, saute some onions. Makes the kitchen smell like you know what you are doing and buys you a little time. (I got this idea from my mom!)

5. If you live in a super hot and dry climate, do these things to keep relatively cool:

*Get your head and hair wet and don't dry off. I know people who just left their clothes on and got fully wet and then walked around the house like that. The water cooled them off and since we lived in the desert, it didn't actually take very long to dry!
*Get towels wet and lay them on your floor at night. If you don't have AC but you do have a ceiling fan, the wet towels will cool the room off a bit.
*Wear cotton undershirts or tank tops under your clothes. If you are living in a country where you have to dress conservatively, this seems counter-intuitive. But my friends and I discovered that tank tops collect your sweat and #1 keep your outer clothes from stinking and #2 used your sweat to cool you off.

6. Keep a container in your freezer and put the "final" leftovers in it, no matter how small. When the container is full you can make soup. Dump the frozen stuff into a pot and add whatever you feel might be missing (water, stock, a can of veggies (or fresh ones if you don't have cans), a taco mix, some spices, some pasta, rice, etc.) My family doesn't realize that's what I do and almost every time they say, "Wow, this soup is really good!" It's better if it cooks a long time in the crockpot. Honestly, my family usually likes it even better the second time around. I call it "Hearty Soup" like my mom does!

7. Here's a truly old-school tip. Back in the day our only communication back home was through letters. It did not cost any more in postage to add one Koolaide packet or one ziploc bag. Since both were hard (uh...impossible) to come by, we had our friends and family stick one or the other in every letter. It was like getting a double treat every time!

8. Learn how to breathe through your mouth and not your nose. If you live in a Third-World country, chances are you are gonna smell pee, poop, blood, sewer, fish, carcasses, spoiled garbage, and durian. It's nicer for those in whose country you are a guest if you don't wrinkle your nose and pass out or gag every time your nose is offended. I also try not to think about the fact that my mouth is still taking in all those smelly germs without the advantage of nose hair filters. So breathe through  your mouth and distract your mind and you'll be fine!

9. If you happen to stay at a nice hotel that supplies shower caps, save them. They are handy for covering food dishes, like plastic wrap...only free. I wash and reuse until they are kind of gross and then throw them away.

10. Weavels and unsavory critters like that will leave your flour, cereals, rice, and other grains if you spread it out in the sun (on a woven mat or large tray). Stale cereal and chips crisp back up in an oven set at low. Don't through away that stuff!









If you live in a third-world country, in the boonies, or if you live somewhere else, what tips have you learned for every day life?

Grasping

I went to Tesco today to buy groceries and a few items that we've been needing for the house. It turned out to be one of those BIG shopping trips with a few "more than normal" expenses. While waiting in line to check out, I noticed a group of ladies in line behind me. They were looking at and discussing my shopping selections. This used to happen all the time when I lived in a city with few foreigners, but now I live in a big city and it doesn't happen often. This not happening often is good, as far as I'm concerned, because I really don't like other people to look at all the stuff in my basket, talking to each other about how MUCH that foreigner is buying.

I smiled nicely at them as I unloaded all the items onto the conveyor belt thingy. The ladies smiled at me and whispered to each other. Then one of the ladies scootched over right next to me and spoke to the cashier. Continuing to scan my stuff, the cashier asked if I had a Tesco card. Why yes I do. How nice of those ladies to remind the cashier to ask me for my card. I stopped unloading my cart and reached in my purse for my card to give to her so she could scan it.

As I returned the card to my pocketbook and continued unloading, I realized what was going on. Those ladies weren't reminding the cashier to scan my card. They were asking if she would scan their card so they could get my points!

I looked back at them. They were still gawking at my stuff. When I had bagged all the groceries and was ready to pay, one of the ladies positioned herself right beside me so she could see the amount that popped up on the cash register.

I wanted to say, "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!"

Why does this bother me so much? True, it's none of their business, but why do I fight so much to keep my supposed "right-to-privacy"? Am I willing to forego that "right" in order to live among a people who live life so much more in community than I am comfortable with? Obviously I am willing because...well...here I am. But am I willing to forego that "right" with the attitude of Christ who "being in very nature God did not consider (even) equality with God something to be grasped"?

The Lord has been bringing up that passage to me lately (Philippians 2:4-11) in relation to things I am tempted to grasp. Jesus was in very nature God, but He did not grasp it. He was willing to make Himself nothing for our sake.

I am blessed with so much. Do I grasp those blessings or am I willing to hold them with open hands so that I can give them up if the Lord asks me to?

What are you tempted to grasp?

Puzzling Pictures: Barbecue Pit or a Tub bath?

Creativity. This is how we roll in Malaysia!