Neighbors, etc.

I met some of my neighbors last week. Ibu Ana and her husband own a little food stand on the main road in our neighborhood, which I can see from my doorway. They have a 6 month old. They have three other children as well, but I haven‘t met them so they don‘t figure into this story. I sat talking with Ibu Ana as neighbors came and went, some sat at the table for a while, some just stood and talked, some got their food and left. They all seemed to know the Ibu and the Pak, and were comfortable enough to pick up the baby or touch her cheek. Perfectly beautiful people, several of which I have since seen again as I walk home or go to the market in the morning. Unfortunately, the only name I could remember was Ana. Presumably even that was only because it is also an English name. I’ve back since then though, and I really like sitting with them, talking, learning, sharing. It’s part of what makes my life so amazing. I eat the food and they are patient with me as I learn, repeating and explaining what they say. It excites me to have another year to get to know them better.

.....


Five times a day, the call to prayer sounds. Five am, noon, three pm, sunset, seven-fifteen pm. It’s sounding right now and one time I went to bed at four (I was up late making pies and talking to people back home). I could faintly hear a man singing something in Arabic over the speakers, although I wasn’t sure if it was a legitimate call to prayer or just practice. They do that a lot, in the mornings. Practice… except I’m not quite sure what they practice.

I’ll be honest… Don’t get angry with me. Most of the time, I barely even register it anymore. Sometimes, though, I would give a lot to have it stop, if I’m trying to listen to music or watch a movie especially. It just sweeps through walls, through your blood. It doesn’t know boundaries. As an American, I like boundaries. Boundaries are nice, and neat, and clean. Boundaries give us personal space and keep us from having to let people get to really know us. If someone steps over the boundaries, you can feel justified in getting angry. “I told you that it annoys me that when you do!!” you shout at the offender, thinking you have the right. I’m learning that I don’t have the right to have walls. That life is not going to care if I have them anyway. Like the call to prayer, life sweeps right past the boundaries and personal space.

Syukur Allah. For He is good.

It’s Thanksgiving, albeit only two hours into this new day. I have not spent one Thanksgiving with my family since starting college, so it is nothing new to me to be without them. But now I find myself in a different country. It is not chilly and crisp in the air. There are no trees with a few colorful lingering leaves (if I’m in the South) or just enough snow on the ground to let you know that winter is almost here (if I’m Minnesota). Tonight, I was supposed to be doing my very favorite of all Thanksgiving activities. Baking pies. But when I turned on the gas to heat up the oven, the flame lasted for approximately 10 seconds before dying for good. Out of gas. So there is also no smell of pumpkin and apple and spices. No cooling pies on the counter. Instead of these few of my favorite things, I have many other rich and varied blessings in my life.

Syukur Allah untuk kasih karunia-Nya yang abadi.

God, Yahweh, Allah, Father. He has blessed me with countless things like the air I breath or the ability and the grace to learn and begin understanding the language of this new home of mine. This is so important to one who loves language and writing and sharing and reading like I do. I had never before realized just how much I took it for granted that I could glance at a sign and know exactly what it said. Or that I could walk into a conversation and know what was being said without any kind of context to help me understand. I pray that I never take it for granted again, or forget how it feels.


Syukur Allah untuk cintaNya sebagai besar sebagai laut.

Sometimes I wonder how He puts up with me, how He has so much patience to grow and mature me into a mighty tree planted by streams of Living Water (Psalm 1). I know that this is part of His character, and I am thankful that I do not worship some god in the style of the Roman or Greek gods. With the sins and passions and mistakes and rage and jealous fits of a human being. I am thankful that I did not have to create a god with my imagination, a god limited to my narrow mind and understanding. I am thankful that I do not understand all that is to understand about my God. That He continues to blow aside my walls and neat boxes built to hold my ideas of Him.

Syukur Allah karena aku ini saja manusia tapi Engkau kekasih aku. 

Praise God, for He is good. His mercy endures forever.

Shine, child

I once had a dream. This dream included owning a microwave in my home and a kitchen stocked with foods that I know well. In this dream, I had a ‘real’ bathroom and hot water in my shower. It involved traveling to the places that I wanted, when I wanted, without rules or restraints or having to be ‘culturally-aware.’ It included following my own passions and maybe making a name for myself on this earth.

And God said to me, “Of what use will it be that you had a microwave when you get to eternity? What will it matter then that you ate the food which you were accustomed to, rather than food which others among my children eat?”

‘she did not know that she was wishing for nothing more, and something a little less, than the kingdom of heaven…’ gmd

And He said to me, “Child, I love you and for this reason I cannot stand by and watch you waste the moments given to you in this world. What are you doing, following your own passions? If you were to become known, do you think those people who have heard your name will stand before me on your behalf? Will they be alive in even 100 years to keep your name alive?”

And then He said to me, “Beloved, I will be there to stand before God on your behalf. I have already given my life blood as the blood-price for your life and your freedom. Why do you turn from me and remain enslaved?”  

‘God is an ever flowing fountain of pure love and blessedness...’ andrew murray

So I should say that God did not take my dream away from me. He received it from my hands and replaced it with a grander view of eternity. He gave me a wider scope to see the purpose in having such a short time in this life.

He replaced it with life. With a love that no human could have the capacity to give in a thousand-and-one lifetimes. No human except the Man-God, Jesus.

'it was rather like looking down from a high hill onto a rich, lovely plain...' csl

This is just a blog of me reminding myself. When the days get long. When I lay awake at night.  When I miss having the known around me. Or the comfort of knowing what to expect. Or what to say. When I start thinking of what could have been.
 
It’s a reminder to me that what will be is far greater.

Humans Are Made to Adapt

Seven weeks and counting. My perspective of my life changes so much as each week passes. Recently, I have been looking back at the fog of the first few weeks and it makes me smile. I was unfamiliar with J. Co donuts and clueless of what gorengan was. Trying to get a bus felt like a challenge and the language sounded like a long string of random noises, rather then words with meaning and life in them. Just counting to ten was an adventure.

But life becomes normal, humans are made to adjust, and slowly I am becoming a different person. Five dollars now feels like a fortune to spend on dinner and I know which buses will take me where I want to go. The ojek(taxi motorcycle) drivers at the gate of my neighbor know my name and have become my friends.

Yesterday, my team and I finished Book One in language school. It’s quite an achievement and I am a little taken off guard by how far we’ve come, a little surprised, but I am no where near satisfied. I want to push further, faster, harder now. Because, for what purpose am I here? Is it simply for the adventure, to have stories to tell my children about my younger days? No, that is not the sum and total of my purpose, those things have no place in my reasons for being. I know that this step of my life was set up and put into motion by God. It is my part to listen to His voice, it is my part to be all here with my heart, body, and spirit until He calls me elsewhere.

I am here for sixteen months, God willing. I can never decide if I think that sixteen months is a long time or very short. It alternately feels like either, or both at the same time, depending on the day and where my thoughts are. But whether whatever the length, I am going to give it all of me. I do not want to get to the end of my days and know that I only half lived life. That I wasted and lost and misplaced and missed it.

That being said, I am learning how to take the best and leave behind the better. I have always had the problem of doing whatever came along first. So I have made it my goal to take God first and give Him all my time. That way, He can use it as He knows is best. And I can know with certainty that I have not wasted one moment of the life that I was given. May He receive the glory from my life that is rightly His.

“My Father, may Your name be highly exalted throughout all creation. Let Your kingdom come and Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

The Beautiful Things, the Lovely Reminders of Our God.

A friend asked if I would write a "listing of amazing things to think about...things that are as St. Paul says, true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy. Anything that would fit into the above category would be greatly appreciated." This was the list that I wrote. I normally like to intersperse my "cheap" blogs, lots of white space and little writing, with solid blogs. But here it is.


A listing of amazing things:

that moment when the challenge is the closest to you, and you do not give in.

the speed of a hummingbird’s wings as it hovers in the air.

long morning shadows reaching across a road.

God’s laughter at our wonder.

the songs of birds at three in the morning when we can only know the sun is coming by faith in His faithfulness for the darkness still remains, yet they sing.

catching a child’s eye and making them smile.

when the wind brushes our cheek in the heat of the day, reminding us that we cannot see where the Spirit comes from or where it is going.

the orchestra of our actions in harmony with God’s.

when one soul silently bows to the wishes of another without the slightest outward hint of the internal sacrifice.

diving into blue water on a hot day.

knowing that we rest in between His shoulders, next to His heart.

moments when we see that God knows and does not forget all the pain.

hearing a street musician play the most beautiful music in the world

(like this…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F0KmQQbc4Z4&feature=related. Or this…http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qhwQSvs4uWU&feature=related).

the unashamed, undiluted joy of a child when he does something well.

lying down on a bed after a full day of work with your hands.

the view of the universe through a telescope as we watch every star, named by Him, dance the dance He created for them and we see that He is unlimited in His works

(search “star systems and galaxies” in Google pictures).

the music of rain lulling you to sleep at night.

the angels of the Most High standing guard over you as you rest and the song of His love over you in the night.

His hand in the accidental meeting which turn into grand friendship.

realizing that His love is greater than all these things.

Polaroid pictures

Last week, I received some Polaroid film in the mail. This week, I’ve been taking pictures.

I’m sitting here watching a game of chess. I’m outside, in the shade, and the wind is blowing gently.

This morning, I went to the pasar. You would call it a traditional market, but it’s hard for me to think of the English name in my mind.

As I was walking there with Mikaela, the morning sun was rising but still low, casting the long, cool shadows across the road to provide relief from the warmth. It feels the same here.

The sun doesn’t change on the other side of the world. The freshness of the early morning is still the same. The sweet song of birds welcoming the sun still brings the same joy to my heart. The cool, quietness of the morning still causes me to rejoice in my God, bringing words of praise to mind. These things stay the same.

I am out taking Polaroid pictures and I come to a red dirt field. Boys are playing soccer on it, and in the background the sun is setting against the hills behind, full of houses and mosques and life. The boys are full of life, their spirits strong.

I come back to my friends and they are still playing chess. They offer me a drink, persistent in their hospitality. The sun is almost down now, my favorite time of day. Life feels good, in this moment it is beautiful.

Sometimes I forget that I’m white. Then I see my reflection. Sometimes I forget that I’m in Asia. When I look at a car on the road, sometimes I expect the driver to be white, but they never are. White people don’t leave the malls and accepted white people spots. Except for us.  We go everywhere.

Last night, I went to my new favorite place with my friends. You sit on the ground, on carpets around low tables. There’s a candle on the table, and lights wrapped around the trunks of the palm trees. There’s always live music, a man with a guitar or sometimes a few people playing. The food is cheap. When I eat there, I feel like I’m a part of the life here.

One morning, on the bus, I asked a lady for help with my homework. The next morning, I got on a bus and sat down. Then I realized that I was sitting next to the same lady again. We said hello.

The old man in front of us was delighted that I could say a few words. Soon, I will say more.

Tomorrow, maybe the sun will be fierce again or maybe the rain will bring the cool winds. Either way, we will live, and rejoice, and life will continue.

You accept life here. What you can have, you take. What you can’t have, you do without. Life is slow, friendships are strong, and God loves us all with a love bigger than the ocean surrounding this little piece of earth where He longs to bring a piece of heaven.

Past My Walls, Into My Heart

The past couple weeks, God has been pushing past the boundaries and the walls that I have built in my heart once again. Once again, He is stretching me, pulling me, taking me further than is comfortable now so that I can be in a place that is where I can see His heart. So that I can have the joy and peace and overwhelming delight of being with Him where He is and of doing what He is doing.

Last week, I spent the week in the home of orang-orang Indonesia (people of Indonesia). We were on a small island, in a house built on stilts over the turquoise blue ocean. We ate delicious food the entire week (including snails, whole little crunchy fish, and fried bugs). And we lived like Indonesians, even wearing jilbabs once for a party. It was difficult for us at times, one being from another culture and unfamiliar, two being a important guest in their eyes, three being in the home of a stranger and not speaking the language very well. We did learn a whole lot of new words…I wrote down over 200 in my notebook. We went jalan-jalan on motorcycles all over the island. One night, we went to the Jimbatan Cinta (a beautiful bridge) and sat there with the three college aged kids of the couple we were with. We talked about life, learned new words, and translated English songs into Indonesian until late in the night. I went to the market and bartered for some beautiful batik fabric. I was sick for a few days and got to experience a traditional Indonesian remedy to colds. The Ibu (the mother) rubbed eucalyptus oil into my back then took a coin and made long scratches down my back and neck. This is because bad wind, “Masuk angin,” enters your body, so making scratched lets it out. The red went away after a couple days…I don’t think it helped my skin infection much though ha. I was surrounded by children every day, beautiful vibrant children who taught us the words for every part of the face and took us swimming.

The first days were incredible (the whole time was incredible), but the further into the week I got, the more I was stretched and the more uncomfortable it got. But God was using it to soften and tenderize my spirit. He is changing me so that I may be in closer communion with Him, so that I made hear His whispers with greater clarity. I want to learn how to live in communion with Him at all times. I want to be a soft ground for Him to plant the seeds of His love. I want to swim in the deep waters of His Spirit and lead others to it. So may He use my culture shock or any other means He needs to bring me closer to the center of His heart.

“Prayer is living. It is eating and drinking, action and rest, teaching and learning, playing and working. It leads you to see new paths and to hear new melodies in the air.” Henri Nouwen

Day of my Birth (My Thoughts, Unedited)

It’s my birthday. My golden birthday. And actually (I did not plan this) it’s around the time I was born as well. I’m in a strange country. A strange country that is now my home.

Do you believe that when we are born, we have a destiny that we are meant to fulfill? I’m not sure if I do. But if I did believe that God makes us with a specific plan in mind for us, then I would also have to believe that I am living it out right now. That I am fulfilling my destiny so far.

I have made mistakes in my life. I don’t think I regret them. I would not be a whole person without them. I would not be who I am now. And I like who I am. But I wonder.

Life overwhelms. It is fierce. It surprises and attacks.

Yesterday, I tried to order new Polaroid film but the internet was slow and now prices have gone up.

Today, I watched a young boy play a little guitar. He has just begun to learn. Will he still play when he is my age?

Slow days become whole of your summer. Then summer is over and you are leaving home once again. Wondering about summer loves, friends, and plans. Wondering if you have regret.

Seeds become mighty trees and the young replace the old. Only a few mourn. Only a few see it. Am I getting too cliché? Is not the cliché that which is so true that everyone recognizes it?

I look at life and know that it is short. I am not invincible simply because I am young. Is it not but a moment that we are here?

I wish that I could see it, I wish that the knowledge of it could change me. But I am too human.

I pray that I use my life wisely. I wonder if there are things that I am missing. I rejoice at where I am and know that my future is good. Because whatever my future holds, He carries me.

My New Home

It’s been a week! One week since I left America and flew across the big blue sea, although most days it feels like much longer. Our (the girl’s) house is small, but I’m growing to love it. It has white tiles and white walls. It doesn’t have modern plumbing…instead of showers we take a mandi, which is simply dumping buckets of water over you, and instead of a toilet we have a squatty potty. It’s amusing and interesting and difficult. Yesterday, we finally got dressers and started unpacking our bags, and with doing that, came the realization that this is it. This is our life for the next bit. And with that realization came some questioning of my sanity. But Daddy reassured me that I am where I am supposed to be. I am ready to be here. I’m ready to learn what my Father wants to teach me and I’m ready to step out of my comfort zone. I’m also ready for the experience of a lifetime.
Life here is beautiful. I’ve only seen the ocean twice since I’ve been here, but it is very close and such a gorgeous shade of blue, even next to this industrial island. Houses and buildings are, as a general rule, much more colorful then homes back in the states.  Traffic is, of course, crazy. We do not have our own motorcycles, so we have to get around by using carries (15 passenger vans/buses), taxis, or ojeks (motorcycle taxis). We are already able to barter for and ride on these on our own, which makes life easier. Between the girls house, the guy house, the leaders house, and another M’s house, we do a lot of back and forth travel.
We will not start language school for another week and I will be so glad when we do. Right now, we are just doing orientation and learning the island as well as a few things, like how to count and how to barter. Sembilan (nine) and sepuluh (ten) are really difficult to keep straight and remind me of when I was young and always mixed up 11 and 12 haha.
It is humbling to live in a place where you don’t speak the language. You feel like a child all over again and sometimes the frustration builds up until I want to get angry at the people who do understand me, like my team. But I continue to return to the feet of my Daddy and ask Him to refine my character through this time. I know that He has much that He wants to teach me and grow in me. Please be bringing me before the Father, that I let Him have His way.
That is all for now, I’ll try to send out updates regularly. Let me know how I’m doing with them…if there’s too many or too few. I love you all!
Peace and grace, Hannah

A Fresh Start (Written January 5 at 12:37)

It’s morning now, the very beginning of a brand-new day. Something about the fact that it is a new beginning makes me sentimental, bursting with lines that belong only in a Hallmark card, and I’m not sure if it’s only because it is a new year, but I think it is because I just heard the incredible testimony of a friend who has just begun a new life. Over a period of about the last 3 hours, I have been telling her my testimony and she has told me hers.

I stand amazed in the presence of Jesus the Nazarene.

His love is never-ending, always abounding, never ceasing, never failing. In “The Knowledge of the Holy” by A.W. Tozer, he talks about how sometimes the only way we can get close to describing God is by saying what He is not. That is kind of the way I feel right now. Silent yet praising. Dumbfounded yet rejoicing.

In “The Voyage of the Dawn Treader” (the book….not the movie), there is a part where Eustance has been turned into a dragon because of greed. Aslan meets him and Eustance knows that Aslan wants him to remove his skin. He tries to remove the consequences of his sin by himself. Removing layer after layer but making no difference. Aslan with a scratch from his claws removes every layer, undoing the curse.

“Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean.” Isaiah 1:16. What power have we to accomplish this apart from Him? What hope do we have without him making us alive from the dead?

I have no goodness in me. No righteousness to boast of. No love that is not towards myself. Without God. I am dark, but He calls me lovely.

He is the Word made flesh, which dwelt among us. The King of Glory come to man. And we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. And from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. In Him was life and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

And to all who received Him, who believes in His name, He gives the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.