To calm the spirit

Such a blessing to have a week backpacking the Loyalsock Trail between moving out of my apartment and beginning World Missions Institute (4 weeks of training with Eastern Mennonite Missions).

Soothes the soul.

Stimulates worship.

Calms the mind.

Quiets the worries.

Encourages the spirit.

Limbo

I can't say that I much like limbo.  It pushes me into an uncomfortable level of adaptability, a strength that is not high for me to begin with.  Upcoming limbo in housing for 2 1/2+ months is not exactly my preference, and added to the current month of thinking about (and actually) packing, it's a long period of limbo (and that doesn't include the limbo at work and at church!).  It takes a motivated day for me to start to put things in boxes; to tear apart what has been "normal" for the past 3 years and live in a state of obvious change.  So for me, this process of moving out of my apartment by the end of the month is as much a mental process as it is a physical one.

Maybe mostly because I don't often handle transition very well.  I like stability; transition is unknown and unsettling.  And I like my apartment.  I enjoy my own space to re-energize, the sun through the south windows in the morning, the light yellow walls, the trek up two flights of stairs carrying heavy grocery bags (ok, maybe not so much that one).  I'm not necessarily looking forward to being transient over the coming months, and the past weeks and the ones to come are a slow process of grieving what I am giving up: independence, personal space, security in general...

Part of this process is figuring out what things I might need to NOT store away in order to take with me and what items in my apartment aren't necessary at all and I should get rid of.  So in a way it's also cleansing - purging my life of "stuff" and simplifying.  That part is kind of refreshing; an acknowledgement that life is so much more than things and that I'm not bound by any of it.  Yes, somewhat daunting when I think about selling my car and depending on other people for transportation or not having easy access to items I count on to have at hand.  But there is something humbling about being forced to make do with what I have.

And limbo also represents the hope in the coming changes.  I am looking forward to what the coming months will bring.  I just have those moments when I look at the piles of boxes and empty walls and ask myself, "Am I crazy?  What am I thinking moving halfway around the world?"  But those moments pass and are remarkably replaced with peace, praise be to God.

Time flies when you're having fun

When I started a blog, I convinced myself that I would not leave it for long periods of time without posting.  In my mind, a month and a half is a too long... oh, how time gets away from me!

Four months ago I would have told you that the coming months felt long - many days of travel back and forth to Harrisburg for work, many days Sundays of leading worship at church, much time at meetings and trying to get details done and maintaining relationships.  Not that I was dreading any of those things, but much of it felt a little routine when I was anticipating upcoming change.  And I have to confess that there were moments (and sometimes days) of stress as I considered planning that needed to be done for fundraisers or the amount of "things" that needed to be done and seemingly little time to do them all.

Can I just say, thought, that those months have flown!  I mean, I think everyone says that about time looking back on it. But really, I find it really hard to believe that I have four weeks left until my last day of work and I need to be out of my apartment.  And the time to accomplish all those things and see all those people has suddenly become very limited.  But I am grateful for having somewhat planned ahead early in the year to get in a few refreshing activities:

• weekend in NYC with my sister and two cousins to see the Lion King (and also managed to find spectacular cheesecake and an incredible night skyline of the city, among other things)

(Yes, my cousin is an amazing photographer!)

• retreat weekend in the hills of WV with a friend - so good to leave it unstructured and do a whole lot of nothing
• being re-inspired and blessed by a night of worship and prayer for the nations and specifically the Czech Republic
• unplanned - but the opportunity to spend significant time in remembrance with extended family surrounding the passing of Grandma
• upcoming camping weekend with friends - so excited to be outdoors!

May is filling up and then I recognize I have little "free" time before I leave.  Scary, yet exciting.  Bring on the craziness! 

March Madness: Easter candy version

My mom was not thrilled when my MST decided to make Easter candy as a fundraiser and way to get word out about my assignment in the Czech Republic.  She has good reason: we have done this in years past and is at least one (if not more) very full day of shaping and dipping literally thousands of eggs.  One of my cousins reflected as we worked that she didn't remember anything other than earning money from the last time.  Apparently we easily forget the exhaustion and pain.

But, we went ahead with it and unbelievably sold way more than my family has ever made before (much to my mom's chagrin, I'm sure.  But I'm so grateful for her wisdom and experience in the process!).  So yet another adventure of determining how in the world we could make 202 pounds of candy in one day.  It didn't quite happen.  But in 2 evenings and one 12 hour Saturday, we have managed to finish 210 pounds of chocolate covered eggs and 20 pounds of fudge.  Whew!

Sugar!

How many Kitchen Aids do you need to mix 54 batches of candy?  At least 5...

Many busy bodies.

Stack of boxes we have to fill.  

And we ran out freezer space to chill eggs.  The 40 degree porch will have to suffice.

And if you're wishing you had some, we have a few pounds we're still selling!  Though soon we might just hand you the chocolate and filling... happy dipping. :)

diacritic symbols, what??

I have to learn another language. Czech, that is, since that's the language spoken where I'm headed.  But based on the rather relaxed 2 years of language I had in high school (from which I remember maybe 6 phrases and a few nouns and verbs) and several trips overseas in which I have attempted to learn just a couple of words and phrases, I'm not all that confident in my ability to actually implant foreign words into my brain.  They just don't tend to stick there.

In addition to memory issues, there are grammatical issues. Nouns and verbs: ok.  But infinitives, cases, objects, perfectives, imperfectives, diacritic symbols... I couldn't tell you what these things are in English!  (Ok, some of them I don't think actually exist in English, but still...)

And then Czech words... zmrzl, smrt... how do you pronounce a word that has no vowels?!

I wanted to attempt to learn the letters of the alphabet and what sound they make.  But I read through the book loaned to me by a friend and it said, "When you want to pronounce ř place your top and bottom teeth slightly together, purse your lips and whisper the following words: tri, tri, tri...   If this doesn't help, consult a speech therapist."  I might need the speech therapist.

Oh, the joys of anticipating what is to come!

Lenten discipline

I am not a very disciplined individual.  Ok, some of you might not agree with that statement, but I am highly aware (at least I think so!) of my weaknesses and the things I give in to because in the moment it feels good or I "deserve" it.  And so though this may be a bit late (better late than never!), I was convicted that I need to do some kind of fast for Lent.  Because for one, it's a good space of time to see if it really is my diet that is affecting my current health.  And more importantly, I want more.  Of God.  A greater recognition of the extent of my sin and His sacrifice.  To be free from the "stuff" that enslaves me (food, technology, fear... all things I turn to for some kind of satisfaction).  To have the sole desire to seek His face first and foremost.  

I won't go into details of what I'm committing to (though feel free to ask... It keeps me accountable), but I need the discipline.  Looking forward to it, mostly, though I have to admit that I'm scared - that I won't follow through; that I'll give in to my desires.  But I'm hoping that those times of failure won't defeat me, but remind me of exactly why the sacrifice of God in flesh was so necessary.

To know no fear

One of my biggest fears is missing God's voice and therefore missing his will for my life.  I have to confess that sometimes it immobilizes me.  Maybe this just has to do with now knowing grace completely; I feel that I need to obey to be a "good daughter", and to obey I need to hear, and all of this means that God has a specific plan for my life.  And not only my life, but my day to day, and sometimes hour to hour, decisions.

I recognize that this isn't exactly fair to expect of God.  He has offered freedom - and grace! As much as I dislike making decisions (ask anyone who knows me pretty well...), it is a gift!  I've been reading Hearing God by Dallas Willard, and am completely struck by his description of being in the will of God:

It may seem strange but doing the will of God is a different matter than just doing what God wants us to do.  The two are so far removed, in fact, that we can be solidly in the will of God, and know that we are, without knowing God's preference with regard to various details of our lives.  We can be in his will as we do certain things without knowing that he prefers these actions to certain other possibilities.  Hearing God makes sense only in the framework of living in the will of God.

When our children, John and Becky, were small, they were often completely in my will as they played happily in the back garden, though I had no preference that they should do the particular things they were doing there or even that they should be in the back garden instead of playing in their rooms or having a snack in the kitchen.  Generally we are in God's will whenever we are leading the kind of life he wants for us.  And that leaves a lot of room for initiative on our part, which is essential: our individual initiatives are central to his will for us.   

So God is not a road map.  Sure, he says he's the light for my path, but he hasn't given me a destination.  In many ways he's given me much freedom to choose the route.  In a way that's a relief.  In another way it's still scary. What if a different choice would have brought me more joy, or opportunity, or growth, or....?  How do I trust that God is good?  That he is working good? That he will bring about the best for me?

I often feel like I have a foot dangling out there, ready to be placed but not sure in which direction to place it.  It's foggy all around me, so no help in seeing what will result from the step!  Reminds me of this picture from a backpacking trip: we were hiking in fairly dense fog, so we really had no idea what kind of terrain the path was leading us into.  Though in the moment it was beautiful and mysterious and peaceful.

Maybe it all comes down to knowing and resting in his love completely.  I know I can't comprehend it.  I often don't believe it.  Probably more often don't accept it. But if I'm walking in tune with God and "perfect love casts out all fear", then in every decision I make I can take a step confidently.  Place that foot on the obscured path before me.  Without regret.  Anticipating what's to come. Knowing that he is present and will be shaping moments to accomplish his perfect plan.

But the key in all of this?  Know him.  There's no way around it.  I have to commit to stepping into him first.  Then my other foot can follow.