no title needed

"Love does not measure; it just gives."

(sounds a lot like Jesus' life... don't ya think?)

hOmE...what does that really mean?

A tribute to home... Wandering around Washington D.C. with my stuffed animal dog (won from a claw vending machine in an Alabama gas station) in my purse (dog's name is Pav)...Washington Monument to my right, American flags billowing in the breeze!

Some say,

“Home is where the heart is”

... Others might agree, “Mi casa es su casa”

“Home is where you hang your hat”

“Home is where you can scratch where it itches”

“Home is not where you live, but where they understand you”

Many great poets, writers, theologians, and scholars have given their perspectives on what home means to them. The connotation of home is different for every person you ask... Perhaps home is different for every person. I think so.

You see, I have been living in West Africa for almost four months now and with the passing of Thanksgiving and the onset of Christmas I have begun to feel a yearning for home. After careful consideration of my own interpretation of home I have concluded,

“I don’t have an interpretation! I really don’t know what home means to me.”

In fact, just the other day someone asked me,

“Where do you call home?”

I looked that person in the eye and honestly told them,

“I’m not sure.”

Here I am a girl on the run who has been stopped in her tracks by the idea of “home”. So today’s question is,

“What is home?”

My family is scattered up and down the east coast of the United States, I am loved and welcomed into more homes than biologically required, yet I have no clear idea of where to call home.

My medical diagnosis is wanderlust (o.k. maybe not medically diagnosed...but you get the idea), ask anyone in my family, or better yet, ask my mom. For as long as I can recall I have had a spirit and sense of adventure. Not adventure in the sense of bungee jumping or rock climbing, but more like adventure in the sense of... I want to learn Spanish, I want to drive across the cross country, I want to live in Africa. Some might call this the “the travel bug” or just plain insanity, but to me this itching desire became my reality about two years ago when I made a decision to leave behind one life and stepped into another.

James says,

“You’re nothing but a wisp of fog. Catching a brief bit of sun before disappearing.”

Translation, LIFE IS SHORT. It is difficult to think about life as a vapor or wisp of fog when you are only twenty-four years old... but I know that James’ words are inspired and true. So I remind myself of his words as I live this vapor of a life.

I am definitely not quoting scripture to condone leaving one’s commitments. Impulsivity is not a good decision making tactic. I have learned through bad decision making that all decisions have their consequences, some are great, and some are guilt ridden. What I am trying to argue is my serious case of wanderlust.... I think you get the idea now.

So as I type this journal entry I am mentally evaluating my own thoughts about home and how “homesick” I am feeling (like I have written in the past, typing these messages is therapeutic).

How can someone miss something without specification. Can someone actually miss an idea? Humans beings miss each other, our family, our relationships, our pets, our routines, but can a human being actually miss an idea... a thought, a hope, a dream, a notion? My answer is,

“Undoubtably YES!”

“Sure, I miss Diet Coke, Target, and my Mom, but what I also miss is the idea of home, the place of my birth, the only place I have ever lived for twenty-four years... I miss my home!”

By human standards, I would say that homesickness is not uncommon. I mean, don’t we all feel an emptiness sometimes? A tinge to move, experience, or live outside of ourselves.

As a follower of Jesus, I would say that homesickness is unfailing. Here is why I make such a bold statement. As a believer in the divine and sacrificial life of Jesus Christ, I have pledged my life to follow His teachings and example, but Jesus did not only speak and teach about this life... in actuality He spoke more about His kingdom to come. To me this is the root of my homesickness. No matter where I travel or where I land, I will undoubtably feel a sense of homesickness. Think about it, the system on this earth we live in is broken, and until it is restored we will never feel at home. No matter where I am I will always be a visitor. My life can help make a difference, I can help in the restoration of this earth, but until He fully restores this world I and every other human living on this planet will be “homesick”. Right now our planet is a beautiful labyrinth of love, joy, pain, sorrow, and adventure...So just imagine how beautiful it will be when it has been made whole again, flawless, perfect! Sometimes I close my eyes to try to picture such a harmonious world...my imagination only touches the fringes of His reality.

Lord, Help me to play a part in Your restoration... Lead me through this “homesickness”. I want my life, although only a wisp of fog, to count for something!

Home...

Still wondering yourself? Here is what others think about the idea...

It matters less to a person where they are born then where they can live.

Turkish Proverb

Home is a place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.

We should come home from adventures, and perils, and discoveries every day with new experience and character.

Henry David Thoreau

Everyday is a journey, and the journey itself is home.

Matsuo Basho

Where thou art, that is home.

Emily Dickinson

We shape our dwellings, and afterwards our dwellings shape us.

Winston Churchill

Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to.

John Ed Pearce

One may make their house a palace of sham, or they can make it a home, a refuge. Mark Twain

I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.

Maya Angelo

Nakedness Tolerance

Naked Children... everywhere, Naked Adults... not uncommon, BUT absolutely under NO circumstances NAKED FIRE! 

all you need is love...

three months and counting... i have found that having faith like a child is the key to life... Lord, grant me faith like a child... i want to Live with faith... Laugh with faith...and especially LOVE with faith, like a child!

the thinkers

I recently shared some of my favorite pieces of poetry with my Junior High School English class. Some of the poems I shared are written by the esteemed children’s poet, Shel Silverstein, someone who not only includes great voice but eccentric character in everything he writes.

From the beginning of my teaching experience in Ghana, I realized that one consistent dilemma was evident in ALL of my classes. The problem I discovered, in like the first five minutes of teaching, was that not one student was learning how to think, interpret, or respond on his own accord. With every question I posed, my students answers came not only directly from the textbook, but in direct quotes too! I remember thinking,

“Wow, I have my work cut out for me!”

Not only was I blessed with the task of teaching the impeccable yet unpredictable English language, but I also had to undo a learning method that is evidently a cultural norm from the past “only God knows how long” years.

“Whoa, am I even equipped to handle such a monstrous task? My answer was immediate, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!”

“My goodness, if I can leave behind Diet Coke, blonde highlights, and brewed coffee surly I can teach some children how to think independently! I mean who knows more about being an independent thinker than a stubborn, only child raised in New York. If I can milk a cow, I can do this!”

So with all that backstory I can now share the true meaning of this journal entry...

the thinkers...

After reading several pieces of poetry and discussing that poetry is subjective and art, therefore there is no right or wrong answer here, I shared the poem “No Difference” written by Shel Silverstein. I read the poem aloud to my 6th grade class using as much inflection and emotion in my voice as teacherly possible, then I gave a homework assignment that included writing a journal response to the poem. The prompt was... What does this poem mean to you?

No Difference...

Small as a peanut,

Big as a giant,

We’re all the same size when we turn off the light.

Rich as a sultan,

Poor as a mite,

We’re all worth the same when we turn out the light.

Red, black orange,

Yellow or white,

We all look the same when we turn out the light.

So maybe the way

To make everything right

Is for God to reach out and turn off the light!

Shel Silverstein

excerpt taken from Where the Sidewalk Ends HarperCollins Publishers 1974

Here are some of their responses...

...if God makes something, He sees it as useful...Fadila

..God created you and you are all created out of dust or soil, and whether you are black, brown, or white, when you die you all turned into soil again. So why do we say we are all different from each other. I see no difference among us, we are all human begins...Ayisha

...Mankind has two hands, two legs, two ears, and two eyes but only one life...Ayisha

...If you are from Ghana or Togo you are one people, there is no difference in God’s creation...Williams

...It is God’s plan to make us big or small...It is His plan to make us different...Olive Jane

...We are all one blood...Godsway

...Even if you are poor or rich you will all sleep in the ground... A poor man might enter paradise and to a rich man God might ask, “What are you doing with the wealth”...Zakwan

...If the light is off we can take a torch to cast our shadows. Our shadows will appear different one from another, but if we turn the torch off our shadows will be gone, and we will not know whose shadow was different from the others. Whose was taller, whose was bigger. We become equal...Severin

When they shared their words with me, my heart smiled! God, You can do all things! Now grant me the endurance to nurture these young minds as they grow and a relinquishing spirit that can unleash them back to their motherland.

The future of Ghana is near, and I want my students to be that future!

like water to a thirsty plant...

Heaven is not an escape from this earth...Heaven is redemption and reconciliation of this earth.

 

All Wrongs will be made Right. 

Everything Broken will be made Whole.

Those Who Hurt will experience Joy.

Nothing will tarnish, nothing will spoil, and nothing will ever perish... earth will be renewed.

She will be Beautiful again.

She will be Renewed.

...like water to a thirsty plant, 

...like awaking after a long, tumultuous slumber, 

...like resurrection to a dead soul.

She will be Beautiful again.

Your Kingdom Come,

Your will be done on earth, 

As it is in heaven...Matthew 6:9

the slump

For about a week I was profoundly uninspired to write...I feel guilty even confessing such nonsense! Here I am surrounded by the vivid sights, the haunting sounds, and certainly the unforgettable smells, of West Africa and my mind is paralyzed to all creative thought.
Perhaps my “writers block” was a result of over simulation, a temporary sensory paralysis due to over exertion? Who knows? The origin of my slump is not all that important, the importance is the slump.
The slump led me to work on lesson plans, grading tests, and editing student work. The slump led me towards work-related writing. Writing that is tedious, mundane, and ordinary. However, God allowed the slump for a reason (as he always does). While grading papers and preparing for the upcoming week I came across a composition notebook (you know...the black and white ones requested by all teachers on the annual school supply list. The one that teachers insist we use because no pages can be torn out of them...that composition notebook). When I saw this notebook I remembered exactly what was inside...It was a journal.
I began to leaf through the pages of this journal and reminisce as I read my own handwriting on the pages...
My heart began racing... my emotions were stirring... I could remember the exact moment of every word I had written in the black and white composition notebook... and at that moment...

I praised God for the slump.

Reading my own words and ideas in that composition notebook reminded me of an essential truth I had forgotten that week

...it is God who inspires.

Therefore, my lack of inspiration stemmed from my slump with Him.
Forgive me Lord, and shake me out of complacency... My desire is to disturb humanity with Your love... and I want Your creativity to fill my thoughts. My creativity is limited, human, and ordinary.

You are creativity!

Revive Me!

Hear my Prayer... Give Your ear,

In Your faithfulness answer me.

Teach me to be in Your will, Lord

For You are my God.

Your Spirit is Good, Good, Good.

Lead me on level ground, Lord

For You are my God.

Your Spirit is Good, Good, Good

Revive me!

Revive me!

Not for me, but for Your name.

In Your mercy deliver me from my enemies. Revive me!

I remember the days of old;

I meditate on all You have done;

I ponder on the works of Your hands

I spread out my hands for You,

My soul longs,

Like parched land I am thirsty for Your rain.

Revive me!

Revive me!

Not for me, but for Your name.

In Your mercy deliver me from my enemies. Revive me!

David’s cry for help...My cry for revival... Psalm 143

love & recipes

“Becoming a Christian might look more like falling in love than baking cookies.” Donald Miller

I recently wrote about baking banana bread. I mentioned in my writing that it took me weeks just to find all the required ingredients. I even followed a “Good House-Keeping” recipe to the tee, but my first attempt was a flop.
What I failed to mention in my first entry was how difficult it was to find white flour. In fact, I traveled to Tamale in search of white flour and after scouring four or more speciality grocery markets, I found a small bag that was imported from India. I was euphoric...ideas of breads and cookies were running through my mental recipe Rolodex. At last, I can bake! I purchased the over priced, imported flour from India and headed back to Yendi. That night I made homemade macaroni and cheese and used my new flour in the cheese sauce. I carefully closed the flour bag and sealed its entire contents inside a Ziploc bag taking caution to push out any air that could spoil my precious flour. The next day, when I opened the flour to begin my baking extravaganza the bag was riddled with small black bugs. “Okay, I can handle this. God, you are teaching me something here...what is it?”
I was discouraged for a few minutes, but I knew that I should have put the flour in the refrigerator immediately after opening and that next time I would do better.
Fast forward one week, I am on my way to Tamale again. My mission is to go back to the same speciality market and purchase more white flour, and this time I will take better caution to avoid any infestation. My first stop is the “Multi-Market” and I walk directly to the aisle where I remember the flour was kept. I purchase the flour along with several other needed items and my enthusiasm begins to builds. It is Saturday, and my plan is to spend Sunday afternoon baking banana bread. As soon as I return to Yendi I put away all my purchases and carefully place the flour in the refrigerator.
Sunday afternoon, I take the flour out of the refrigerator and open it...once again it is riddled with small black bugs.
“Okay God... I cannot handle this, you know how excited I was to make this bread!”
In my state of disillusion, I stomp over to the neighboring mission house and share my story with the resident caretaker. As I am grumbling to him, I can see on his face that he is not quite understanding my entire story. I ask him,
“Is there any place in Yendi I can purchase flour?”
His response was, “Sure, do you want artificial flowers or living flowers?
At this point I begin to laugh even through my disdain, “No. Walker, I need flour used to bake bread... You know, white flour?” After a few minutes of explaining white flour to him, he nonchalantly answered,
“Oh yeah, there is a bread manufacturing business here and you can get flour anytime you want.”
Later when I was trying to process the “white flour” incident (as I like to call it), I came across some insight while reading a book. The author of the book said that becoming a Christian might look more like falling in love than baking cookies. After I read those words, I knew that my “white flour” incident had a greater significance than I originally suspected.

Here I am diligently searching for something, finding that “something” in the wrong place, realizing that “something” is inadequate, and then returning again for more of that “something” (How true is that pattern outside of my baking life?).

God, I don’t want to follow a recipe to know you, I want to fall in love! I want my relationship with You to be exuberant, euphoric, and complicated. I want to work at IT, cry over IT, and at the end of the day find myself utterly satisfied with You!

My prayer as you read these words is that you desire to fall in love with God not because His Love fits into a three-point sermon, fall in love with God because His Grace is unending. His Power is magnificent. His Mystery is alluring. His Affection for us never-ceases. He Is Truly Lovable.
...entry written 27th September, 2009

dreams & life

As an child I remember growing up with perpetual praise and emotional encouragement. I was loved, supported, and even adored. In fact, I remember feeling so strong in this support that I truly believed I could be anyone or do anything.
As a teenager I felt that if I searched for a dream, a true passion that my life would be electrifying.
As an early college student I continued this search for a dream...
Throughout college I searched further...
Then when I when I began my first teaching job I thought, “This is it! This must be my dream.”
About a month ago I was listening to a preacher (via podcast) out of a church in Los Angeles and he said something that radically shifted my whole “dream search” idea. The pastor said,

“Live a dream that is worth your life...”

I listened to his words over and over and over again, “Live a dream that is worth your life.”
I realized what this pastor was not saying was, "search your life for your dreams, or live your life for your dreams", but in fact what he insightfully declared with just eight words was that our lives are worth nothing less than a dream, and our Creator wants our lives to represent something of

Mighty Greatness...

It is a good thing I was in Africa when I heard this sermon because if not, I would have been on the first plane to Africa.
My dreams are irrelevant if I can’t devote my entire soul, my entire being, my entire existence, even my entire life to fulfilling them. I want to waste my life on a dream that is worthy of my life. I want to teach, and please, and love others...but most importantly, I want to do this because if I don’t, what is my life worth?
God revealed to me that day, that it is not what I am searching for that is my dream, it is what I am living right now.
Okay, I understand this is easy for me to say because I am in Africa helping others and feeling good about my “works”, but my prayer is that when I leave Ghana God’s revelation will accompany me and remind me that every dream I have should be worth of my entire life...
Enjoy the moments God is giving you, and live a dream that is worthy of wasting your life on!...entry written 26th September, 2009

Peanut Butter Cookies for the Neighborhood

I had an urge to bake peanut butter cookies... Then I walked outside my front door and shared them with the neighbors. Everyone looked at me with trepidation, but after one taste they asked for another!

Interesting Fact -The Ghanians call peanuts "groundnuts" and peanut butter "groundnut paste".