I Walk a Path

I am walking on a path. It is beautiful. Birds are chirping, leaves are rustling in the trees, the blue sky peeks through the foliage, and the sun grins its approval from behind a fluffy white cloud. This is my path. It was meant for me and I was meant for it.

Joy, pure joy.

Through the trees, I catch a movement in my peripheral. It is another sojourner on a path, headed somewhere. I glance toward them. I smile and nod. We know each other. Not personally. We know about each other. We are both travelers, following a path, taking pleasure in the journey.

I take my eyes off of my own quest to catch a glimpse of the other path. It appears to be just a smidgen smoother because I notice that the other person is making more progress than I. Perhaps my path has a steeper incline. I’ve had to work harder to go the distance I have gone.

I am probably in better shape.

I put one foot in front of the other, I turn when my path turns, I am careful to avoid roots and rocks. There are a lot of roots and rocks, I notice. I must stay focused. I can only glance for a second at the sister-path. It does not have so many obstacles. I wonder if my fellow traveler sees me stumble.

There is skill in staying the course. I have been faithful to do just that. There is also skill in choosing the path. Did I choose the right one? I strain my eyes to look ahead, though I know I should be watching the ground in front of me. My path is headed in the right direction. I’ve always known that.

I think it is.

Is that a turn up ahead? My senses tell me I should continue to go straight, but I see that my path will be veering off a bit. That can’t be right. I glance at the other traveler…my rival…who is now ahead of me. It is easy to see their path because the sun smiles more on that path than on mine. It continues to go straight. I wonder: can I cut through the trees and get on that path?

Now I’m running, but I trip and stumble on pebbles and twigs. I’m awkward and I know that I must look silly. The air is stifling. The birds mock me. The leaves overhead scratch against each other, each is vying for a chance to hide the sun from me. The clouds loom overhead and cackle at me.

This is not the way I want it. I want the other path—or even a new one all-together.

I trip and fall, but this time I don’t get up. I just sit. I sit in the dirt. My knee is bleeding. I don’t even care. But really I do. My enemy is so far ahead now that I cannot see them anymore. And in the quiet…the quiet because I’m alone…I hear a voice…a voice because I’m not alone.

I never was.

“Run the race marked out for you.”

“Why?”

“Because it was meant for you and you were meant for it.”

I look through the trees at the other path. I don’t know anything about it. Maybe it is straight and smooth all the way…but maybe it’s not. What I do know is that it was not made for me. It is not for me to take it. I look at my own path. It’s a little crooked. A winding path is more exciting anyway. I think I like it.

I think I’ll stay.

Who knows what I’ll find when my path veers up ahead. I won’t worry about it right now.

I will trust the One who marked the path for me.

And in that trust, I’ll find joy.

My Favorite Part About Easter

http://goo.gl/YkVmjL

What's your favorite part about Easter Sunday? I've seen talk on Facebook about new clothes, about dying Easter eggs, about re-enactments at church, and about Easter Egg Hunts. For me, the best part about Easter Sunday is when I see people for the first time that day and I get to say "He is risen!" and then they respond, "Hallelujah!" or "He is risen indeed!" Before the days of Facebook, I would text all my believing friends with this message and then over the next few hours I enjoyed the "beeps" that came back to me with the beautiful answers. My heart is full and I feel even a bit of excitement, like, "Wow, He really is risen! This is big! This is worth celebrating!"

This morning, as I read the Resurrection Story in Luke, I was struck by the timing of events. The first thing that happens is "very early in the morning" (v.1), then "when they came back from the tomb," (v. 9) and then "that same day" (v. 13) and when the day was "almost over" (v. 29). All day long the believers struggled. "They were wondering" (v. 4, 12), "they did not believe" (v. 11), their faces were "downcast" (v. 17) and "they talked and discussed these things with each other," (v. 15). It wasn't until Easter night that there was any real celebrating.

The two men who walked 7 miles to Emmaus arrived when the day was nearing its end. They ate dinner but then immediately returned to Jerusalem. That would have taken them a couple of hours. So it had to be the evening by the time they joined the eleven apostles and the others who were with them. Even then, when Jesus appeared and said, "Peace be with you," it took them a few minutes to receive that peace. They jumped in fear. They thought He was a ghost! Jesus showed them His hands and feet. And guess what, they still did not believe "because of joy and amazement." Those poor disciples had such a roller coaster day!

The disciples' sadness and then confusion and their struggle to believe something way too amazing to dare to believe, did not change the truth: Jesus was risen from the grave. That confusing First Easter is like our lives. Jesus has redeemed us, and we spend our days happy, sad, confused, we struggle with unbelief, we don't dare to believe something so joyful, so amazing, but all along the way it doesn't change the fact: Jesus is Risen. He has conquered the worst that can happen to us. How can we not trust Him with all the lesser things along the way?

Today I am so happy to smile and say, "He is risen" and I get excited all over again when I hear the response. But today I also remember that it wasn't until Easter Evening that Jesus' disciples really "got it." They wrestled with the facts, but it never changed the truth. And at the end of the day, Jesus Himself brought them peace. What a wonderful reason to celebrate.

He is risen indeed!

Squishy

Last week I made this little cactus garden. Isn't it funny that I lived in desert areas for 13 years and it's just now--now that I live on a tropical island--that I want a cactus? Anyway, look at those little guys! Don't they just make  you smile? They make me smile when I see them.










And I think of this when I look at them:




They are so small and cute, but you can't touch them. My little squishies...that aren't so squishy, they are pokey. But they make me smile, they are a fun part of God's creation and I enjoy them. Let's hope that I can keep them alive. They are cacti for Pete's sake. Surely I can...

Unofficial Book Review: The Book Thief

Recently I listened to The Book Thief on audio book.

Audio books are fantastic because I can listen to them in the car, when I'm cleaning house and when I cook. Thanks to my library in Ennis, TX, I can check out audio books and download them from way over here in little 'ole Penang.

I've wanted to read The Book Thief for a long time so I put myself on the waiting list for the audio book at the library. (Any librarians out there who can tell me why there are only two copies of the audio book download? How come you can't have unlimited downloads?) At any rate, I've been on the list for months and two weeks ago I got my long-awaited email. I had three days to download it and two weeks to listen to it.

I do a lot of carting kids to school, cooking (not a lot of cleaning, I'm just gonna be real about that one), but I don't do a audio book's amount of it within a two-week period...apparently. By Thursday of the second week, I could tell I was not gonna finish it, but I was SOOOOOO close. Then I discovered the little feature on my ipad that let's me hear the reading at 1X, 1.25X, 1.5X or 2X the speed. Cool! I upped it to 1.25X and listened a little. Then up a little more...a little more...I heard the last hour's worth in 30 minutes. It was not relaxing, but at least I finished the book.

I have not seen the movie and don't know if I will. I did, however, really enjoy the book. This is my unprofessional review, not necessarily my recommendation.

What I loved about The Book Thief:

1. I loved the descriptions. I love words and I love it when they are cleverly put together. Markus Zusak is a great describer. He uses sounds to describe sights, textures to describe sounds, sights to describe tastes, etc. Not what I would expect, and it was delightful.

2. I enjoyed a creative narrator. Original idea!

3. I prefer to learn things from great stories rather than bland textbooks :) This was a great story and I learned new things about the time period.

What I did not love about The Book Thief:

1. Well, the subject was hard, of course.

2. I did not like the bad language, but was grateful that much of it was in German so I didn't catch it!

If you love a great story, creative writing, and historical fiction, you just may enjoy The Book Thief too!

Patterns

Our family has been on the island for two months now. Woohoo! We are learning our way around and making a home for ourselves. Because we are still relatively new, I have enjoyed observing people around me. I see patterns for how people act, speak, and respond in various situations. Patterns exist wherever there are people and I have the unique opportunity to observe from an objective perspective since I haven’t gotten into any habits or schedules yet. I’ve mostly been observing. As I do so, I have a choice: will I follow the pattern I observe or not? There are good patterns and there are bad patterns. Which patterns will I eventually find myself following?

Last week I read Romans 12:2a, “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” I replaced the word “world” with the name of our island. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of Penang. As I meditated on this, I realized a tendency of mine. I like to be different. If the pattern is THIS, then I want to do THAT; if everyone is going HERE; then I want to go THERE. But even if I do the OPPOSITE of a pattern, I am still being dictated by a pattern. The next part of that verse says, “but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Transformed is to be changed. Renewing carries the meaning of renovation. Who transforms us? Christ! (Ephesians 4:20-24; Colossians 3:10; 2 Corinthians 5:17; Titus 3:5,6) So, as I begin to develop my pattern for living here in our new home, I want my choices to be guided by Christ renovating my mind and not by patterns of Penang. If I let Christ work in my mind, then I can confidently finish the words of Romans 12:2 which says, “Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.” If I base my choices on Christ alone, then I am not governed in any way (whether good or bad) by the patterns around me. I am simply governed by Christ.

What about you? Do you see patterns around you? How do you decide which ones to follow? I’d love to hear!

A Hearty Hike

It's Chinese New Year, Gong Xi Fa Cai to all our Chinese friends! Because Chinese are the majority on our island, there is lots of celebrating going on today. We hear lots of firecrackers and see lots of red lanterns hanging outside houses and shops. The boys have the day off from school so Kris and I decided we should go on a hike today. The good news is, we could begin our jungle hike right from our very own neighborhood! We had the idea last night and ended up with a group of about 17 by 9 O'clock this morning. It's a pretty good hike up and over the hill behind our neighborhood. When there was a break in the jungle, we could see the city and the ocean. Beautiful! We ended up at the Botanical Gardens about two hours later. Thankfully, one from our group had the foresight to get the guys to drive several cars up to the gardens and park them so we could drive home. The final part of the hike was about 1,100 steps, so you can imagine we were not interested in hiking back home!

Here's the view of the city and ocean from the trail.

Hiking a STEEP part of the trail.

Made it to the Botanical Gardens!

And here we have a two gray monkeys.

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.