Thanksgiving

I love to improvise, I think that's why celebrating holidays overseas is my favorite. 

I grew up in a little town in Indonesia. Making traditional Christmas and Thanksgiving meals took a lot of work on my mom’s part. One year (I don’t know which holiday it was for, let’s say Thanksgiving since it works so well in my line of thought) my parents decided to have turkey. No big deal right? Butterball turkeys in the open market, right? Well, perhaps we named him Butterball, but I don’t think so because the live turkey running around our back yard was not that fat. Maybe we named him Beanpole. But he had to be caught, killed, de-feathered and gutted, well you get the picture. I don’t remember my parents ever deciding to do that again. I suppose that’s why having turkey is not a big deal to me. Chicken is just as good, thank you.

But it's not always overseas. Sometimes you have to improvise in good 'ol United States too. One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories in Texas is the time I ate at a Chinese restaurant with my Grandmother. The restaurant was empty, since everyone else in Dallas was at home eating turkey and dressing. Grandmother and I had a quiet and relaxing Thanksgiving dinner with no cleanup. If you love cashew chicken and a plate of rice, you can't beat that deal.

A third favorite memory is the year Kris and I lived in Eritrea and I invited my two English students to our house for Thanksgiving Dinner. They wanted to help, so I made all the "fixins" and they brought zighini: the traditional super spicy chicken dish. Maybe not quite the traditional turkey, but it worked. In retrospect, it was a bad idea to invite just the two of them because one was my closest friend and the other was a married man whose wife lived in a different city. Honestly, I think the two of them liked each other, so it didn't help that I invited them over and it was like a double date. That should have been super awkward for me, but I think I didn't even realize how weird that was until it was too late. It was still a fun day with yummy food. 

This memory probably explains why yesterday, after twenty years of never attempting to replicate it, I decided to make injera: a tricky-to-make-but-yummy-to-eat Eritrean bread. So yesterday, while preparing for our big Thanksgiving celebration for today, I was also attempting to make a sourdough starter for injera. It's sitting on the cabinet fermenting today. A grey stinky mixture, slightly less than it started out because who knew that the yeast was so potent? And the whole wheat/rye mixture grew like a giant wet blob and spilled all over the cabinet. But I only lost a portion of it and the rest is safely back into a larger container and rotting (oops I mean fermenting) on the counter-top.

This evening, while eating a “proper” Thanksgiving meal with all the accoutrements, I’ll be smiling as I think of the turkey running around our back yard in a little market town in Indonesia, I'll be remembering Grandmother sitting across from me in a booth at the Chinese restaurant in Texas, and I’ll be reminiscing a make-shift Thanksgiving dinner in Eritrea (and wondering if my gray blob of fermenting dough is getting a life of its own again and if it will have taken over the kitchen by the time we get home tonight). I’ll be feeling thankful for the Thanksgivings that were traditionally perfect and all the ones that were perfectly un-traditional.

And I’ll be thankful…so very thankful…to have celebrated each one.

 Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

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!

Island to Mountain

Sometimes it's nice to take a break from the usual. A couple of weeks ago we took a break from our little island. So we drove across a long bridge to the mainland and headed up a winding road to the mountains.

Goodbye Island!

And we enjoyed a few days in this cozy little house surrounded by beautiful flowers and an awesome view of mountains and trees.

We enjoyed games, reading, hiking, sleeping, and relaxing. 

Mountain Trails

And we even tried to get a family picture on Easter Morning, but it was a little sunny, can you tell?

Even though I love where we live, it was still nice to get away for a few days. Now we are back in the thick of life on the island, but I sure am thankful for the days we had as a family in mountains.

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!

FGM = Love?

Female circumcision is radical and unimaginable to most of my friends in the West. To most of my friends in North Africa, it is a normal part of life. Today I read an interesting article (FGM - An Act of Love) that sheds light on the thinking of those who circumcise their daughters.

I've written about FGM/C (Female Genital Mutilation/Cutting) in my upcoming novel Side By Side. The experiences in the book come from the true stories of young women who have undergone this practice.

As women, we should know at least a little about what more than 125 million women and girls in our world today are going through. You can read more about what FGM/C is here (this is just a fact sheet, there are no graphics, although the facts are heart-wrenching all on their own.)

It would be easy to become overwhelmed by the traumatic stories of women who have undergone FGM/C. It would be easy to become angry at those who perpetuate the practice. But I propose that the more one learns about a culture, the more difficult it is to find a black and white answer.

As mentioned in the article, "Whether we like it or not, female genital cutting is an act of love." I'm not saying that I agree that this is a healthy train of thought, I'm just saying it's worth the time to stop. Stop. Take a breath. And remember that not everyone thinks like we do.

I sat in a room in North Africa, the only white woman in a sea of dark-skinned villagers. We were attending a government-sponsored program designed to put a stop to FGM/C and tribal scarring. Most of my friends had undergone both.

The women squeeled and hid their faces when the program leaders showed us a film of a three-year-old girl being circumcised and scarred. It was gruesome and heart-breaking. But I knew that my friends who were moms would still go home and schedule an appointment for their daughters to be circumcised.

As a Westerner, I'd say it's fairly easy to form a strong opinion about FGM/C. It's well-documented as a harmful practice. I'm grateful for organizations (both local and international) that work diligently to educate and inform regarding FGM/C. It is hard for me to understand why this practice continues.

But let's bring it closer to home...

What practices do we have in our own cultures that are unhealthy or harmful, but that we guard carefully because to change it would be to go against a deeply embedded cultural norm? Perhaps you can't think of anything as huge or problematic as FGM/C, but I believe we still have unhealthy cultural norms that we do just...because. Because "that's how it's always been done," and because, "that's how everyone does it."

Some women in communities that have practiced FGM/C for centuries are taking a stand. Are you brave enough to take a stand against the unhealthy norms in your own culture? Am I?

It's worth some thought.

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?

My Favorite Adventure

I've been away for a week. Traveling is fun and the conference I went to was very good. But it's very nice to be home. It's very nice to have the kids back and to hear all about their adventures. In just a few days Kris will be back and we'll have all five of us under one roof again. We each have enjoyed our separate activities. Maybe it's the mom in me. Maybe the others would have taken another week of it. I don't know. But I know that, no matter what traveling adventures I get to have, my favorite one is being with my family.

Back In Asia

We made it back to Asia! Hello toes, I’ve missed seeing you, since you’ve been all wrapped up in socks and closed-in shoes for months. First order of business: paint toenails and find flip flops. The breeze is wonderful and the weather not too hot and definitely not too cold. It IS humid though, and mildew has attacked some of our furniture and the closets smell musty. No problem, wipe it all down and it’s good as new. Feeling great! Feeling happy! Feeling … feeling… feeeeeeeliiiiing tired … zzzzzzzzzzz (jet lag).

Friends here on our new island stocked our cabinets with food and invited us for meals. So nice. Made mental note to do the same for others when they are just moving in, especially when…jet lagging…zzzzzzzzz. We were invited for dinner! That’s great news, I don’t have to cook. I ask if I can bring anything. I get a text message, “Bring rice.” OK, no problem, I have a rice cooker. But we are two big families so I better make a lot. An hour before dinner I make a big pot of rice. When we arrive our hostess looks at my rice cooker oddly. “Did I say ‘rice’ or ‘ice’?” Oops. And I can’t even blame the auto correct because her message totally says “ice”. Well, we did not have cold drinks that night but we did have plenty of rice.

While eating dinner, I mention that instead of Australian Top Sirloin (which is very expensive beef), I found that I could order “Bombay Beef” for much cheaper. “That’s not beef,” says our host, “That’s water buffalo!”

“Are you sure? Because she said it was beef.”

“Think about it, Jana. It’s Bombay beef. Cows are considered holy in India.”

Oh great, I just bought 2 kilos of water buffalo to cook for our first lunch guests the next day. All I can think about is a large lumbering work animal pulling a plow through the rice paddies before it drops dead and the innovative farmer cuts him up and sells it to the shop owner who…well, sells it to me. Gray, wrinkly skin; tough chewy gristle. Guests coming at noon tomorrow and I have water buffalo stew. Awesome.

The next day I try to cook it anyway. It’s not a good idea. Kris and I taste test and I can literally hear Kris crunch, like it’s a bag of potato chips. Yuk. But I just used two (count  them, two) envelopes of American stew mix. I wonder if I can rinse the flavoring off the nasty buffalo meat to recycle with some actual beef. A little brain gnome is in my head jumping up and down with a red flag screaming, “Bad idea Jana!” And thankfully, I listen. I end up making ground beef (from a cow) soup instead. But that works out ok because I have a large pot of leftover rice to go with it.

  

The Rest of the Story

I got a lot of responses from my post The Box. For some reason the "comment" tab doesn't always work so some responses were verbal or in emails and messages. Sounds like the post stirred something in all of us. So now I'd like to post the rest of the story... and I've invited my mom (shout out to Diana Norwood!) to be a guest blogger for this! We all may be wondering what the rest of the story will be for Wi'am, but here is a look at someone else's end story... thanks for sharing Mom!

Consider the difference Jesus Christ makes in a life. The contrast is significant.

It happened to me in South Asia…

We were in a small town that had a decent hotel. We were staying there while we taught a leadership seminar for national church pastors and leaders. For women teachers, it is appropriate to teach in a sari. Hence, I was wearing a sari, riding in the local rendition of a rickshaw, which sets the occupant high in the air on a small seat, behind the man who peddles the rickshaw. Talk about conspicuous! First of all, being white seems to draw everyone’s eyes in your direction. Secondly, a white woman wearing a sari is really strange. Oh, the looks I endured as we traveled the roads to the community center where the seminar was being held. Especially irritating to me were the stares of the men. They were all Muslim men. When they looked at a woman there was no respect in their eyes. It was more a look of disdain and distaste and vulgar thoughts. A woman feels dirty after noticing a man looking at her in that way. After enduring many such looks on the way to the community center, we arrive. I pay the rickshaw driver and walk inside to meet our class which has gathered from many areas of the country. It’s always a thrill to meet these men and women. This week, I notice a man who is dressed just as any Muslim man, with white salwar-kameez (long shirt and pants) and a very bushy black beard. One of the participants brings him up to me to introduce him.

The contrast to the men on the street is vast. He walks up to me with a huge smile shining through his black beard, and he looks at me straight in the eyes. He’s eager to meet me and talk to me. I quickly shift my cultural gears. In this Muslim culture, a woman doesn’t look a man in the eyes or talk to him. But there was no avoiding this wonderful man. I quickly learned his story:

He was the imam (leader) of the mosque in his village: looked up to and respected. As he frequented a pharmacy in town, the pharmacist (who was also sitting in this seminar and who was a strong believer) began to share with him Jesus Christ. The imam became a believer, but kept going to the mosque and sharing Jesus Christ there. He was run out of the mosque and eventually out of their village. His wife had also become a believer. They and their children were now without a home. Eventually they were able to relocate in another village and have been attracting Muslims and winning them to Christ. He no longer can lead in a mosque, but he now leads a growing group of former Muslim believers as they have gathered into a “church”.

Only Christ could change such a man. It’s a miracle. And it's "the rest of the story" for this man and his family. What can we do today to help write "the rest of the story" for those without Christ?

In Our New Home...Not For Long!

Five weeks...that's how long we've been in our new home. Five weeks of unpacking, organizing, getting to know our new island and just settling in.

One week...that's how long it is before we take our suitcases BACK to the airport and fly away. I'm praying for "No Madness" during this season of "Nomad-Ness."

We are headed to Texas where I hope I'll find my sanity. Perhaps it's waiting for me in a basket of warm tortilla chips with a large bowl of salsa beside it. That's where I'm thinking it is...which is why we have requested lunch at El Fenix on the way home from the airport.

We have a few mixed feelings about the next five months. We are beyond excited to see our State-side family and friends again! We are looking forward to the opportunities to meet with partners in various cities and churches! We are a little reluctant to leave our new home that we just spent five weeks setting up! But you know what?...that's a good spot to be in. The Lord has already been providing so much for us here. It will be fun to return in January. And we know He has so much already lined up for us during our time in the good 'ole USA. So who wouldn't rejoice about that!?

God is so good! How has He shown His goodness to you lately?

Aaron is FIFTEEN

Look at this cute little guy! It's Aaron and yesterday was his birthday. So this post is dedicated to our firstborn son...Aaron Jackson Kelley! Aaron was born in Texas and had his first birthday there too. Unfortunately, that was before digital cameras and I don't have any other of his cute baby pictures with us. Aaron turned 2 in Jordan and when he turned 3 (in Jordan too) he was a big brother to a newborn brother. He turned 4 in Sudan, 5 back in Jordan (because his second little brother was born there just a month earlier), and 6 in Texas. Aaron turned 7 in Sudan and now...finally, a picture. Aaron's 8th birthday in Sudan. Here he is with two of his buddies, one from Kenya and one from Finland/Germany.

And when he turned 9, well, same house, same table, same friends, same cups! Ha! Good to see that at least I had different plates! 

Aaron turned 10, same house, yes, same table and all of that, same friends...so I chose a different shot...the trampoline :)

OK, Aaron turned 11, but I'll spare you the picture. Actually, you should know that we branched out that year and had his party at a park! But I didn't have a good picture to put here, so I am adding a picture taken a few weeks later at the church Christmas program where Aaron was a shepherd and his brothers were angelic angels :)

Here is Aaron with some of his bestest friends in Sudan...

Aaron turned 12 back in Texas and before you know it...we were moving again! This time to Indonesia. Aaron turned 13 in Bandung.

And turned 14 in Palembang because...you guessed it...we moved again.

And to keep with the theme, Aaron is celebrating his 15 year birthday in a new country. We are SO happy to get to go to Malaysia to celebrate with him! Woohoo! We are so proud of this guy and so happy that God gave him to our family! Happy 15th Aaron!

Happy Birthday Seth!

Today our middle son, Seth, is TWELVE YEARS OLD! It seems like just yesterday that we welcomed him into our family of three! We were living in Jordan back then, so Seth was our "Arab" baby, although he didn't look very Arab!

Seth was supposed to have his first birthday in Sudan. But because of 9/11 our plans were postponed and he had his first birthday in Jordan. Not long after that we moved to Sudan.

Just before Seth turned two we went back to Jordan because the next month Seth became a big brother! So Seth celebrated his birthday with a Blues Clues party in Amman, Jordan.

After spending Christmas in Jordan, we went back to our home in Sudan. 

The following summer we returned to Texas for a year. Seth turned three there and had a Clifford the Big Red Dog cake. He did NOT want to open presents and I had to take him to the other room during his party and tell him, "You WILL open these gifts and you WILL be happy about it!"  He was so happy when his brother Joel had his birthday the next month and I found Seth saying, "I don't have to open gifts this time."  Haha! It is funny now but it wasn't then!

When Seth turned four in Sudan, he handed out Alphabet Cupcakes to all his classmates in pre-school.

Then there was Seth's 5 year Spiderman birthday party. The infamous spider pinata  was my very first pinata to make and I did not know you should NOT make it tough, but rather easy to break. The kids tried and tried to break it and finally Kris had to beat the spider to smithereens with a broom handle while the mothers looked on in horror! Funny memory!

In spite of the spider fiasco, I love the picture of the party-goers. Seth is American. Behind him are an Afghani, Sudanese, Indian, Italian and two Dutch boys! 

When Seth turned six he wanted a computer cake! So that's what he got! Those of you who know Seth know that a computer cake is very "Seth"!

The following year Seth had a Batman cake for his seven year birthday.

Seth's class at Nile Valley Academy sang happy birthday to him before he handed out cupcakes.

 Seth turned eight with a party for all his friends with cake and games. Later that year we went to Switzerland. Here is Seth freezing in Wilderswill!

And speaking of freezing, we spent seven months in the States that year and Seth got to enjoy snow! He had a small family party in Texas when he turned nine.

By the time Seth turned 10, our family had moved to Bandung, Indonesia. He had a party for all his friends. But later in the summer  he had a special "Ten Year Old Camp Out" with friends from Sudan and he received his 10 Year Old Sword from Kris.

On the day Seth turned 10, he got his glasses! Also a trip to Dairy Queen. Yum!

And the very next year, when Seth turned 11, we had moved again. Seth loved the show "Wipeout" so that was his cake that year.

This year we are in Bali for Seth's birthday.

Happy 12th Birthday to Seth! He is such a blessing to our family!