Christmas Countdown!

It's not too late to give a donation gift in a loved one's honor for Christmas! I probably shouldn't share these sites because my loved ones might see them and it'll blow my cover, but I'll take my chances. I've been sitting here cozy in front of my computer for less than an hour while the snowstorm continues to dump feet of snow on us as I shop online for gifts that are going to help people in huge ways. Here are some great sites that I've found that enable people to distribute wealth around the world for specific causes:

Visit WorldVision to donate money for various farm animals, tools, training and basic necessities.

Doctors Without Borders is a great cause for worldwide medical relief as far as I understand.

And of course I can't neglect to mention one of my favorite humanitarian aid programs: Watoto-- the Christian orphanage villages in Uganda where I helped build a house last August.

If for any reason you're on the fence about spending money on honorary gifts this season, please check out this Advent Conspiracy video.

May not only we have a merry Christmas, but also many others who may not have expected relief! As Eric realized this past weekend, "That's what money is for [to help people in need]!"

Justice Mission

Sometimes I'd like to ask God why he allows poverty, famine and injustice in the world when He could do something about it...but I'm afraid God might ask me the question.

~Anonymous

I have thought the exact same thing in my prayers recently! It's like as soon as the thoughts escape my mind, "Lord, please don't forget the people suffering from cholera in Zimbabwe," God responses, "Don't you forget them, Heather. What are you going to do about it?"

Have I mentioned that I am fond of the youth group I work with? Today we read a Jewish story about contentment and then watched this great video clip at www.adventconspiracy.com. They are so into missions and justice and I am glad for the opportunity to encourage them to act upon the reality that we are fortunate to have access to an endless supply of resources. Within seconds of me showing them photos of St. Pius primary school in Uganda last month, they immediately started texted their friends to collect writing utensils to ship to the school in January. They make my heart smile.

No complaints

Thanksgiving was good. Eric met my family up in NH. Dad likes him a lot. Says he's handsome, bright and good at conversation. It didn't take Dad long to notice. ;-)

Strangely worth noting, both Eric and I got bloody knuckles playing billards. Weird, right? First off, Mom now owns a pool table because it came with the house she bought to retire in. So that explains why we spend hours playing pool this past week. Then we just kept smacking our right hands into the wooden edge of the table. Eric is a great help when I can't put on a Band-aid with one hand... I'm starting to get embarassed at the number of times he's had to bandage me up in the past seven months.

That's right, we will have been dating for seven months on Wednesday. No complaints here about celebrating an anniversary every month. Unfortunately, Eric and I are now buried under work so we might need to have a belated celebration.

How's seminary you might ask? At the moment, my week's to do list includes three more papers, a presentation and a song composition as well as two part time jobs... It might be a long week, but it'll be over before I know it and then I might just be bored. So again, no complaints.

Sigh

"If you've got Jesus, why would you need the Bible?" - A peer in response to the idea that heaven is a Bible-study with Jesus

:-) Thank You, God, for that encouraging thought today. It was a rough one discussing clergy responses to abused people when biblical Peter commends being abused. Yeah, we delve into some pretty deep and crucial topics here. It makes my head spin and there are few opportunities to debrief. I'm thankful for the thought above.

Drippy Eyes

Honestly, this week has been pretty stressful in an emotionally draining way.
Remembering Gramps at two intense All Saints' worship services at the beginning of the week, watching four depressing plays including a professional performance of Romeo and Juliet and struggling with the social aspects of one of my most important relationships has somehow gotten me weepy this week. Surprisingly being pulled over by a policeman to learn that I had a flat tire and then forgetting my fresh homemade coffee on the counter of the mechanics didn't get a single tear.

I've also been thinking about this time last year. Here's what I was doing a year ago today: http://cryingoniontears.blogspot.com/search?q=fly+home

So glad that I'm here instead.

Taste Buds Craving Uganda

Eric and I were laughing today at the fact that we've started to judge food by its' similarity to Ugandian food. He was noting that the Snack Bar hasn't had the Fanta pineapple soda recently and I mentioned that they did have the avocado-turkey-blue cheese sandwich again this week. ;-)

Great Men

I have some pretty great men in my life. It's alright to brag about other people, right?

As Dad gets closer to retirement from his self-made chiropractic practice, his priorities are changing and he's looking for ways to help others around the world. He did some research and learned about a chiropractor in South America who goes between orphanages to give the children chiropractic care and now he's raising money for their needs. So cool!

Eric surprises me with his willingness to not only listen to my dreams ("What if I'm called to Africa? To adopt? To be a pastor? To...") but also to consider them and their possible implications in his life and he's still here! I can't believe the conversations we've had and his sensitivity (Arnold, don't you dare give him a hard time about it!). I'm pretty impressed by Eric and it's funny to think that four years ago when we were friends getting into as much mischievous as possible, I would have never guessed we would be in this situation.

Mr. Keith and Mr. Tim still call me when they're hanging out with HOPE campers so I can keep in touch with them. I appreciate them remembering me and letting me continue to be part of the HOPE family regardless of the fact I'm a state away.

My male seminary comrades are always good for conversations about social justice from a Christian perspective and for simple helps when needed.

I'm glad to know I can call Erik to get updates about his life as a new young pastor and his seminary advice. Luis is great for a giant hug and coffee conversations about everything. Pete inspires me with his faith journey and growth over the past five years. Arnold has a similar heart for the poor in Africa and I enjoy our opportunities to encourage each other. I'm sure I'm forgetting someone but I wanted to share my thankfulness for these men. Sorry I don't have pictures.

Called to what?

This past weekend, I organized a youth lock-in at the church where I'm the new youth director. It was amazing to have the opportunity to lead games, discussions and worship with the intention of challenging the 7th-college freshmen age youth to become willing to let God transform their lives rather than to become conformed to the world.

Granted, I felt challenged by Professor Sweet's teaching that we should be culturally relevantly while teaching Christian truths. But throughout the night while I was busy, I had a sense of peace. I could laugh with the youth and appreciate their comments about distractions that keep them from God. After about five hours of sleep, I woke up early and appreciated the quiet time making breakfast before I woke up the kids with "The Circle of Life" from the Lion King. It was so strange that I was that content with such a lack of sleep. It probably brought back my second nature of deaning HOPE Camp but this time, behavior issues were non-existent. Not that I necessarily called to work with youth in the second richest county in NJ for the rest of my life, but ...

Eric and I have often discussed the difference between physical and spiritual needs. Isn't it interesting that African churches are often bursting with people desperately dependent upon God who are so thankful for the meager blessings in their life (meager only by our standards) yet in all of our wealth, we are often spiritually independent from God going through the motions of religious ritual. Wow, I suddenly just realized what an amazing opportunity I have to encourage spiritual growth in Summit while offering aid for physical needs from here to the places that need them. Hm. I just can't forget the great needs in either place. Oh, gosh. God is really working on this heart and mind of mine. See how the global community affects just this one little life of mine-- wanting to bless people here and there. And honestly feeling called to it. Wow. God's amazing.

Youtube

Here's a video with a song that my a cappella group is arranging: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=camWjmPpQZ4

God's song

A thought from Professor Sweet:

In John 3, Jesus isn't talking about the wind. He's talking about the Spirit of God. Therefore, if a person is born of the Spirit, he/she shouldn't be predictable. The Spirit leads us where we don't always want to go-- it makes us unpredictable.

Interesting, no?

Personally sometimes I get geared up willing to go to the far reaches of the Earth to share God's love with child soldiers and orphans. If I'm lucky, I'm even ready to share God's love with the person I know who is difficult to love. Other times, I start rationalizing why it makes no sense to go myself-- it would cost money, it's dangerous, I value my life, I value my comforts, no one is forcing me to go, it would change my life... the excuse list can go on forever. And yet, where is God's input? Where is my attempt to listen to the Lord who loves me and all other people? I'm thinking I need some prayer time and the willingness to abide in God's will whatever that may be.

"God created us to sing. Will we sing God's song?" -L. Sweet

Sweet fresh air

Being in seminary can sometimes cause a faith crisis. Studying theological systematics, as well as delving deeply into Scripture to understand context, challenges me to look at my faith from an analytical perspective. I don't think this is a bad thing at all--it just causes growing pains. For example, when I began to recognize that my devotional habits fail to address the context and background of God's Word, I can no longer pop down for a quick open up the Bible, chose a verse, accept the promises while overlooking the curses devo. All this to say...

I have a great professor this semester. Professor Sweet's considered a futurist author who writes about the future of Christ-followers specifically concerning church dynamics. But the greatest thing about him is that his complete motivation is to share Christ. It's a breath of fresh air to hear how Sweet shares the gospel.

Recommended Books by Sweet: The Gospel According to Starbucks; AquaChurch 2.0

No complaints

Recognizing that if I don't update soon, I'll have Amie and Erik teasing me about it, here I go... ;-)

Life's really good for me right now. I greatly enjoy most of the readings I have to do for class. I just had the whole week off to study for non-existent mid-terms. Eric and I are enjoying living two blocks away from each other. And I was asked to direct the children's Christmas pageant. I definitely can't complain!

Things that Wake Me Up

I currently live on the third story of a classic old apartment building in a quiet, suburban town. One would expect peace and restful sleep on warm evenings when the open windows allow a slight breeze in. Oh, no. Having long passed the point of complaining, it has gotten to the point of absurdity. Here is what my slumber was interrupted by just last night:

Semis change gears right in front of my building
so their engines can roar at any moment during the night.

No joke. Facility workers have been repainting the exterior of our building
as early as 7am for the past four weeks.
I have been awoken on multiple occassions by talking workers
directly outside my window on the third floor!
They could see me in my "hebby gebbies"!


School children loudly enjoy their last moments of freedom
as they pass my building between 7-7:30am.

This morning, a bagpiper rehearsed at 9am for a funeral service
that let out at noon. I vaguely remember thinking "I know this song"
while hearing the bagpipe drone through my dreams.

The final kicker was as I was trying to quickly finish a paper
that was due in an hour, a car alarm went off.
I could see the car and no one succeeded in turning it off
for about ten minutes.

All of this after falling asleep at 5am...
Early to bed tonight 'cause it's almost time
to start the whole process all over again.

Challenged Wondering

I did it. I finally gave up my favorite Folgers roast for a bag of Free Trade coffee. It felt great to know that my extra $2 enabled a worker in southern Mexico get fair wages.

I don't know about you, but I have an internal list of things that I want to do. Not a shopping list, but a "I'd feel better about myself if I'd ..." Buy Free Trade Coffee was on the list. Let's say that I'm feeling pretty good because I've accomplished three of those things in the past two weeks. World Awareness. Activism. My little part. In African American Religious Music, we've been studying about Richard Allen starting an African Methodist church in the late 1700s. What courage and passion it took for him to work to gain his own freedom and then to stand against racism to preach the gospel to slaves. How many amazing leaders fought for something that was illegal at the time. They saw a social wrong and fought against it despite personal sacrifices.

And I'm challenged wondering, what's my part? How can I please God?

Let them speak for themselves

This little girl was found by social workers right before she became a child sacrifice...
Moses, the first baby to graduate from Bulrushes, is in my arms.

Pictures finally!

EditThis pre-me smiled at me. The most beautiful grin I have ever seen in my life.

Hanging out with baby Greg, Arnold and Arnold's new friend.
Greg was found by social workers in the house alone after his mother
who was a prostitute died. He's now living at Watoto.
A woman said he looks like me. I said, "I wish." I wish I looked like him-- so cute!

Ready to build this thing!

Our first day on the job with the bravest local kids who came out to see the mazungus.
These were the kids who told us the dig for sweet potatoes
but they wished they could eat chicken but it costs too much ($2).
Little did we know what God was going to teach us through them in the next week.

Where's Heather? Can you see my tuff of blonde hair in the center of the circle?
I was showing the kids photos of themselves and then teasing them about their grade reports.

Out of Love

Sometimes I think I'm crazy. This morning as I was cleaning my coffeepot in the sink, I wondered at the easy accessibility I have to water. If I go back to Uganda for an extended amount of time, I may need to tote water in the large yellow canisters too. Why would I want to leave the comfort of my American lifestyle? Oh, right. Out of love for the poor in Africa.

Enjoying

As tempting as marrying a warrior and adopting an orphanage of African children would be, I'm back in the US enjoying a seminary student's life.

Enjoying classes.
Enjoying the choirs.
Enjoying the boy...
;-)

Last week, I stopped dreaming about the children I had met in Uganda. But I still catch myself thinking about them at random times: sitting in chapel, daydreaming in my new used recliner, eating dinner... Still looking for answers from God about what I'm supposed to do about this passion for poor children.

Get Uncomfortable

“One third of the world—that’s about 2 billion people, men, women and children—lives on less than $2 a day. That’s $60 a month, $720 a year. Some of us spend that much on our cars each month (car payment, insurance, gas, etc.). That ought to be enough for us to realize there’s a need.” –Todd Philips

We’re definitely getting a glimpse of that need here in Kampala. The Watoto Children’s Orphanage provides permanent foster care in an “ideal family” consisting of a housemother and eight children for legal orphans between the age of premies who have been abandoned at the hospital to youth before they’re old enough for university. The house that we’re helping to build was funded by your donations for our trip and is obviously more modern than surrounding local homes. Although the Watoto homes have a fireplace in the kitchen, three relatively small bedrooms compared to my own at home (one for the mother and four children in each of the other) and a wide hallway for the table, driving to the work sight has provided us with a glimpse of sod houses often with a sheet hanging in the doorway. Brown and black cows and black and white pigs, goats, chickens and roosters all wander through the yards. Toddlers are bathed in low buckets outside and young children play outside in the red dust. It sounds like a nice life, doesn’t it?

Until the curious children who came to our work sight to see the mzungu (“ma-zoon-goo” means white person) mentioned they were hungry. At about one-thirty in the afternoon, they said that the last time they had eaten was dinner time the night before. The undernourished (“We want chicken but it’s too expensive.”—a chicken costs less than $2) kids are wearing (present tense because I’m sure they are wearing those clothes at this moment) torn clothing caked in dirt. By torn, I don’t mean the hard-used tears that are straight in the knees of our American jeans. Charles has a ripped angle in the back of his little red jeans that from certain angles probably shows too much skin. The other tears are the over-used tears that we very rarely see even if you’re like me and buy second-hand clothing and wear it for ten years. Holes along shirt collars were the most notable for me because I couldn’t understand how a shirt could wear through like that. An eight year old boy carried his little sister, Angela, over to us twice in the past week. Both beautiful children, Angela has a wide grin that comes easily and reveals her few teeth that already have brown spots. She also only wears a soiled dark pink shirt—no diaper for this baby who can’t walk yet. For long distances, her brother pulls her on a homemade sled—a rectangular water container cut in half with some type of rope tied to one end. The older children have white teeth and we’re told that they’re healthier than city children because they can eat food from the farms. The first day we were on the work sight, the children wandered over when they were supposed to be digging for sweet potatoes. Our twenty-four year old guide insists that that’s a job he’d never want because it is difficult labor. Another boy was lucky to have the job of watching the cows when he discovered us. As a team of Christians, we’ve been daily seeking how God is calling us to serve these children and trying to put our faith into action concerning these children who could so easily become one of the morbid statistics that we’ve already read about Africa (1 John 3:18).

Yesterday, we visited a poor school that houses six teachers who teach approximately seven hundred students between the baby class up to primary seven. Can you imagine my humility as an ex-teacher who struggled with fourteen special ed high schoolers at a time before these teachers who are each responsible all day long for a hundred children packed into one room (sometimes five per bench which would probably seat two American children) without text books and only one cupboard of books that is in the headmistress, Harriet’s tiny office. It reminded me of one of my my co-teachers, Mr. Meekins who told me, “Miss Parrish, you go to Africa. You go there because kids there want to learn. Go and if anyone gives you grief, you’ve got a large black man here ready to defend you.” The children did a presentation for us outside near their playground which consists of a barren dirt field where I caught a photo of a footprint in the dust. Dancing and smiles, singing and drum beats from these literally poor children in simple uniforms (one little boy looked ridiculous with only his top collar button buttoned until I realized that all of the others had fallen off). Some are barefoot. A boy wears pink girl shoes without regard to our gender expectations. Then, before we met with the school staff and board, I spent some moments interacting with the kids—probably fifty handshakes (with them thinking, “I touched a mzungu!”) and talking with a few of them. I met a beautiful little girl who had lost her front tooth. I kept trying to take a photo with her but literally thirty kids kept pushing her out of the way. She’d get knocked down while I showed the kids photos of themselves and I’d yell, “Where’s the baby?! Pick up that baby!” (I know she’s not really a baby, but she was much smaller than the rest of them.) The kids had their report cards since it was the last day of school before vacation and I’d tease and encourage the kids who’d place their over-sized thin notebook reports in my hands (probably the only over-sized thing in this country). They need basic school supplies, textbooks and another school building. Those were the needs that they requested. From our own educational experiences, we’d love to also add instruments and laptops to their resources and we’re plotting ways to help this primary school called St. Pius.

There’s more. There’s the little boy, Greg, at the baby orphanage who doesn’t look like his fellow toddlers. He’s got beautiful black curls and wide eyes with tan skin. I saw him sitting by himself sucking his thumb and when I sat nearby, he crawled into my lap. We sat together for a while until I had to leave. When Arnold, our Ugandan team leader and friend from school, asked someone what Greg’s story was, we learned that his mom was a prostitute that died and left him in the house alone. Thank God someone found Greg and enabled him to come to Watoto where he’ll be cared for in a Christian community until he is old enough to go to the university.

There are about six premie (sp?) babies at that orphanage in incubators. Tiny, sickly infants who could very possibly have AIDS themselves were laying right before our eyes. We couldn’t touch them because we hadn’t washed our hands yet (they let us into the room without washing?) but I knelt down within eye sight of one of them. I understood the baby’s solemn facial expression and was probably cooing him when all of a sudden, he grinned the best smile I have ever seen in my life. Sure, it could have been relieved gas, but he was looking at me and smiled. Again, I thank God for Watoto and it’s workers’ faith in action caring for these abandoned children.

Comparing the poverty here in Uganda and in the US, Arnold mentioned his observation that in the US, the poor have options. They can choose a shelter. They can choose to spend money on basic necessities or drugs. They can choose to appreciate their free public education (the children at St. Pius have to pay a small fee for their lunchtime meals). Here in Uganda, it doesn’t seem like people have so many options. We’re talking about life or death situations. The school children sang a song with the lyrics, “We’re mountain movers. We move mountains with the power of the Lord.” May I be a mountain mover and move mountains with the power of the Lord too.

Mom and Sherri, You can stop worrying for the moment. I am planning to return home as was planned at the end of this trip. I’ve got a youth group to lead. But I wanted to share with you all some of the things we’ve witnessed in the past week. If the statistics were not enough and if my observations were not enough, the fact that I have touched these children, I have held half-naked Angela, thumb-sucking Greg and the “baby” at the school and shook the hands of so many others, I’m not sure I can be satisfied returned to my comfortable lifestyle. How can I return home to drink a $4 Java-chip frap when those kids can’t eat a $2 chicken? The fact that I have in the past debated whether I could sacrifice an extra treat for the benefit of another person is convicting as I look into the eyes of a joyful, literally dirt-poor child. This sentiment isn’t initiated by guilt, but rather, out of compassion for these brothers and sisters in Christ. I’m wondering what I can do. I need to do something. James 1:27 (photos later)

Child of Privilege

At 6AM tomorrow morning, we'll be on a flight to Washington DC, Rome, Ethiopia and finally Kampala, Uganda. As I was taking a shower this morning thinking about what to pack, I wondered at what I would see in the next two weeks, how I might consider my privileged American lifestyle after being in Africa. Of course, my stereotypes of Africa include starving toddlers with bloated bellies and flies in their eyes. What will I actually see? And even if I don't see those hungry children, that doesn't mean that they aren't there somewhere, right? Am I ridiculous to pack so many clothes when the people I meet might have much less? Isn't more ridiculous that I still have a lot more clothes waiting for my return? And I'm sure there are other opportunities that I am blessed to take for granted including daily meals (and snacks) and safe places to sleep. Recognizing that I am a child of privilege, what is my responsibility regarding the rest of the world? Flying off with prayer... Thank you, again, for your prayers and financial support!

Headed Abroad Again

In less than three days, I'll be on a flight headed to Kampala, Uganda with six friends from Drew. We're off to build a house for the Watoto orphanage and I'm thrilled about the team going and our destination. This is the same orphanage that I seriously considered commiting 10 years to as a house mother when I was 20. I can't wait to touch African land, to see the people, especially the children and to help as much as possible during the two weeks we'll be there. Afterwards, I have a week before I start classes again, begin two jobs as a youth group leader and a manager at a coffeehouse and maintain my relationship with Eric. Still can't complain when my peers have kids and full-time jobs to juggle. In other news, Grandma's moving to New Hampshire this week so now my mom's side of the family has all transitioned to New England from western PA even though one uncle and aunt are moving to Dubai (wow).

Oh, and camp went well. Really well. Mr. Tim and the rest of HOPE staff were great to work with. I miss our kids already. Especially the six-year old girl who called me, "Miss Heathery!" I don't miss the emotional strain of being responsible for teenage drug dealers and gang members. I'm absolutely glad they were able to come to camp, more glad that they behaved and so thankful for the male staff who held their own. But I was a little stressed...

God worked in amazing ways this summer. We witnessed Him change hearts and attitudes of hardened young people. I was blessed to hold children as they cried, to pray with them, to teach and encourage them. It's my dream job. That's all I want to say about that now.

I forgot the blog password and couldn't update...

1. Sorry for not updating in forever.

2. This summer has been amazing. Co-deaning HOPE Camp is my dream job-- leading high-risk kids on hikes, through Bible studies, on natural waterslides at a state park and through various other camp activities. Mr. Tim's a great co-dean and we are generally on the same page about a lot of decisions concerning scheduling and disciplining. Believe it or not, we have not had a single fist fight this whole summer! I don't want to speak too soon because we've got three intense weeks ahead, but that's an impressive record for the previous five weeks. So many memories to tuck away including a frog hunt with ten-year olds dressed in watershoes and ponchos, carrying flashlights as they searched under every leaf, a impromtu campfire with the girls where they saw a shooting star, intense conversations about the kids' home lives, more intense sleepless nights due to campers' nightmares, smiles and hugs from familiar kids and making friends with new campers. One of my favorite moments of the week is after I song lead on Monday morning when I drive up to the cabins and the kids who've just arrived come greet me at the car with grins and hugs. WHY ISN'T THIS A FULL-TIME JOB?! What should I do with this passion for these kids, for teaching and demonstrating (or at least doing my best to demonstrate) God's love for them? What's next, God?

3. I finally got to see Eric again after seven weeks. That was a long time to be apart and I had a great time meeting his hometown friends and helping teach the rumba to his fellow summer actors for Songs for a New World. Only three more weeks before we head off to Uganda... May God speak to each of us on the team teaching us how to serve and to love like Christ. If I must leave HOPE Camp, I am thankful that I have the opportunity to go to Africa three days later.

4. I am officially *cough* twenty-four. Why is it some ages seem young, but others seem old? Thirty-four = totally young. ;-) Twenty-four = why isn't that girl married?! Just kidding (not really). My mind can change on a dime, "I want to be married" to "There's no way I'm ready to be a wife. I can barely stay in the same state for four months..." Regardless, I try to lift up my life to God daily and remember He's got a better plan than I do.

5. I'm also officially jealous of the Sexton family. It's not the covetness jealousy, but rather the "Wow, they just continue to add beautiful additions to their diverse family and I hope I have a similar opportunity some day (soon, please God)." Mom wants an Asian grand-daughter. I'll try to work on that for her. :-)

6. If you have a chance, please pray for our HOPE campers. If you want more details, I would love to tell you more about these beautiful kids. Just a couple of the common experiences these kids have is witnessing street fights on their streets and drug use and abuse in their homes. God loves these children immensely and their prayers are often desperate ones for their loved ones.

One down, seven to go

Last week went exceedingly well with eight 13-16 year olds specifically concerning good behavior and indepth conversations about Biblical purity. Worst parts: A counselor being bit by a spider (we've got two types of poisonous spiders in this area but she was okay), two counselors getting lost in the state park and then the former counselor just mentioned fracturing her finger. Poor Miss Ashley barely shed any tears and keeps raving about how much she loves this job. :-)

This week, we're expecting twenty-three 12-14 year olds. If you could throw up a prayer concerning God's will being done at HOPE Camp, about the ability of counselors and deans to respond appropriately to possible attitudes and fights between campers and for an overall blessed week, we'd greatly appreciate it!

Time for the staff meeting... Miss you all. Wishing that gas prices weren't so high so I could roadtrip to see you!

A perfect moment in time

My first HOPE campers of the summer arrive tomorrow morning. All of the teenagers are returners and some of them I've known for five years. I can't wait to spend quality time with them, listen to their stories from the past year and to encourage them.

Also, as my mom said this morning, "God really does answer prayers!" A very gracious sponsor recently sent in a large check to help me go to Uganda this August. I can finally smile and believe that God is making it possible for me to walk on the ground of the continent I have desired to visit for years. It wasn't that I was questioning His ability to get me there, but rather whether or not this supposed to be the opportunity for me to go. I CANNOT WAIT to look into the eyes of orphan children and to do my best to share God's love with them while I am there. I can't wait to see the strong adults who are struggling to support each other in the midst of starvation, disease and poverty. I am already inspired by them and I am praying to understand what my role may be in relation to our brothers and sisters in Uganda.

I am so thankful for the opportunity to work with our beautiful HOPE campers who come from challenging home situations here in the US before flying to Kampala. God is blessing me immensely with the opportunity to spend time with the people He has laid on my heart.

Since my campers are arriving tomorrow, I'll probably be MIA for a while happily spending as much time with them as possible during the five days they are here at Jumonville. And, yes, Amie, it's hot here too. We're just seven degrees behind you!

Miss Heather HOPE

Jville's doing well.

We're in the third and final week of training and my first week of campers arrive on Monday.

Our HOPE staff is fantastic. Two old HOPE staffers, two old program staffers and two new counselors. It's all good. I can't wait to see familiar campers who've surely grown in the past year.

Erik finally married Lisa. Eric, Tricia and I had a good time at the wedding and I enjoyed seeing old friends. :-)

Still need to raise about $950 to help build an orphanage in Uganda this August. If anyone has any fundraising ideas that would be feasible for a camp dean who works 24 hours/6 days a week, please let me know!

:-)

Tomorrow I'll pack up, move out of my Drew apartment and drive to Jumonville...

It's been an amazing spring.

Much appreciative.

Keeping things in perspective

Before my last final earlier this week, my professor put everything into perspective for the anxious seminarians by saying, "Let us be thankful that we're not pulling loved ones out of the rumble today [in China]. We have the opportunity to take a test." May God have mercy on those grieving.

Remembering that makes me more thankful to have this cold even though I have beach plans for the day. As I tote my box of Kleenexes onto the sand, I can be thankful for many things.

This is my 100th post. ;-)

Happy Sigh

God willing, I'll be in Kampala, Uganda for two weeks in August. Last night, Arnold attempted to satiate my desire to bring an orphan home by suggesting that I could spend more time with the children in the orphanage when the rest of the crew continues to build the house because I'd still be serving the community. Eric got nervous and said, "See, you'd think that would help quell her but it probably won't..." ;-)

In other news, everything is going very well. I enjoy comparing my present situation with my experiences in May 2006 when I was graduating from Drew U. It's pretty much the complete opposite; let's just say, I'm not looking naively into the abyss of the future with an unreciprocated relationship [are you reading into that yet, Amie?]. Thankfully, I have been able to maintain and build new friendships since then and from the perspective of this plateau, I'm thankful for my experiences.

So in the past month since I've posted, I've spent a weekend in Fort Worth, Texas to sing at the United Methodist General Conference that meets every four years. That's probably the most exciting thing I've done. I'm passing my classes. Finishing up finals (ask me anything about church history since the reformation). Heading to camp at the end of next week. Then Uganda. Happy sigh.

Being Kneaded

Life continues to be enjoyable. I've finally gotten into the groove of approx. 6 hours of class 3 days a week, enjoying lunch and the daytimes with graduate students then evenings with undergraduates, typing a paper every night or morning before class which no longer stresses me out. People keep asking if I'm looking forward to this summer as a break. Truth is, as soon as graduation is over, I'm off to Jumonville for about eleven weeks, then one week off before I go to Uganda, God willing. As soon as we return, I might need to go straight back to school. Yet, I am content and eager for each of these anticipated adventures.

God's definitely working on this heart and mind, preparing me for the possibility (and practically the inevitability) of preaching. I want to be a willing vessel for God which is translating into opening my mind to the possibilities and trusting. My problem is that I don't really like talking to large groups as myself (compared to acting). I've tried to use Moses' excuses and have been told that God will provide an Aaron when I am in need. And then God reiterated His point in Psalms 103:6-8, "The Lord works vindication and justice for all who are oppressed. He made known his ways to Moses, his acts to the people of Israel. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love." May God lead...

Concerts Galore

Well, it's been a whirl-ride of a weekend that started off with the Christian a cappella group performing at the university in Montclair on Thursday night, driving to Boston on Friday, performing on the streets and subway in Boston (illegally in front of City Hall :-) and a concert on Saturday, then driving four and a half hours back Sunday morning to perform with Mark Miller and Ubuntu, the Pan-African choir, before one last a cappella concert on our home campus last night. The list of praises goes on and on, thanking God for safe travels, healthy voices, etc.And of course, the moment comes when I say something stupid and realize again that God is good and I'm not.

Laying it all down again

Do you ever get the burning desire to be better than you are? Not necessarily to get better grades or to impress people, but rather to be able to help them more? To be able to provide wise responses or react in love? To feel confident and effective reaching out to others?

I heard a lecturer a couple days ago who had an impression on me. Describing her church's outreach to drug abusers and the homeless, she said that the more they try to do, they realize there's even more to do. For example, say you grab three dollars on your way out the door in order to give the first one to the homeless man on the corner, the second to the homeless person who sees your generosity and the third for the next person who has heard of your generosity. Now you're out of dollars and feeling pretty good about having just helped three people... but then we stop. There's more money at home, but we've reached our limit of generosity for the day. And we had prepared ourselves to stop at that point. Why do we do that?

Let's mix this lecture with another I heard by Dr. Arariajah who preached about the foolishness of Christianity. A lot of people may try to argue this with me, but I think the Scriptures call us to be foolish. Foolish by worldly standards.

Thus, I've decided I'm an aspiring fool for Christ. I want to have the courage to follow God wherever God leads me. I want to trust God and to experience the peace that passeth understanding. I want to glorify God with my life, not just in the future but day to day. I think I've been slacking in that recently and it disappoints me most when I see its effects upon my relationships... Not just in my close relationships with friends who may need encouragement or accountability, but also with all the people in my midst, and my own relationship with God...

One more thing. In the rock opera !HERO, the Jesus character played by Michael Tait sings that he's looking for "men who look beyond their noses." He wants followers who are selfless. Another aspiration of mine...

I guess it's time to be transformed, huh? Time to lay it all down again...

UGANDA bound

Background info: As a junior in college, I was seriously considering commiting to 10 years as a housemother in Uganda after attending a performance of the Watoto orphan's choir. Life took another direction...

Fast-forward to this semester:

On the second night on campus, I befriended Arnold, a Ugandian student at Drew who had gone to Watoto's orphanage last summer on a missions trip and was planning another trip for this summer with Eric, the current music director of the Christian a cappella group. I sat there shaking my head, "I am so jealous. I am so jealous." Wait, it's in August after camp? Wait, you need eight more people? Wait, you've already gotten a $10,000 donation? :-) One of my greatest life goals is going to become a reality, God-willing, this August when ten of us travel to Kampala for two weeks to build a house for the community.

We still have a lot of fundraising to do and if you're interested in supporting us with prayer and/or financially, we'd greatly appreciate it. Here's Watoto's offical website: www.watoto.com. If you'd like a tax-deductible receipt, you can send a check to
Watoto Child Care Ministries
P.O. Box 1320
Lutz, FL 33548
to the account of Arnold Kawuba Team.

Speaking for our team and for the community in Kampala that is striving to care for and raise up hundreds of abandoned orphans and child soldiers, thank you!

You know you're procrastinating when...

You take a second shower for the day and it's only 10am.
You convince yourself to go to the gym for the first time this year.
You keep needing something to drink from the kitchen.
You've checked your email three times in the past hour.
You're playing six games of Scrabulous online.
You decide to work in the library even though you have all the needed materials at home.
Your brain keeps thinking of messages to text people.
You start cleaning the apartment.
You write a blog entry about procrastination...

If I can convince myself to just do this midterm and submit it, then I can play (or write other papers). Deadline: 8am when I start driving to NC to arrive in time for a church drama rehearsal... I think I'll walk to the library...

Standing in the Need of Prayer

I got word today through the Watoto connection, a.k.a. Arnold, that last week the Watoto orphanage in Uganda received 1500 new children, some child soldiers, some from Kenya. There aren't enough places for all the orphans, but Watoto wants to provide for each of them. This is where I'll be building a house this summer, God willing. May God provide for the children's needs, as well as the child care providers.

Delirious

It's spring break already.

I told Donna, a classmate, that I wasn't ready for spring break, that I was still enjoying things and didn't feel overwhelmed yet. She said I was delirious and wouldn't realize it until I got home...

It almost feels like a perfect moment in time, being here back at Drew enjoying old friends, making new, studying theology and looking forward to one more summer at HOPE Camp. Sure I don't know what's after seminary, but that's a few years away.

I did realize that if I became a minister, I would be Pastor Parrish. For some reason, that joke about the "Pastor-Parish Relations Committee" is funny when spoken about my mom who is Pastor Wood Parrish, but I'm not digging it for myself. I'm sure my face contorted into a diarrhea face when someone pointed that out to me for the first time this week.

So, other options include being a deacon specifing in worship arts or youth at a large church, or missionary, or ... Okay, the truth is, I have another more pressing concern: Which conference should I start the ordination (I want to be a deacon) process? I'd go into more detail, but I'm just procrastinating an essay at this point, so I'll stop here.

See you in heaven

This afternoon and evening were amazing. To have Luis, Felix and Djore, friends from college, France and seminary, in the car at one time was just amazing. Mixing various social circles of my life. I'm thankful for reminiscing, laughter, honest conversations and the hope of continued friendship wherever we may be. I'll be going to bed tonight thanking God for their friendships.

NYC

It's 12:52am and I just finished my first paper of the week, due in eight hours. I just want to take a moment and say that I am enjoying these theo topics tres mucho. Who wouldn't want to write a paper about how instead of questioning, "Why does God allow terrible things to happen in this world?" we can ask, "How will our compassionate God transform our [inclusive of God] suffering?" (Johnson, She Who Is). Apparently I'm still writing the paper. :-)

Met up with Felix and Clara from France this afternoon. Having been "my only male friend in France," and genuinely hospitable, Felix will always have a warm place in my heart. He has no idea how much I appreciate him; he can't get past his excitement about being in NYC!

Woot-woot!

Good news: I've officially (and finally) lost the twelve pounds I had gained teaching high schoolers in the fall of '06. Here's to no longer finding comfort in Ho-Hos and Java Chip fraps. Here's to exercise and smaller portions. Here's to less stress!!

Side note: check out Passion, a young guy from California who plays Christian songs on youtube. An amazing musician!

Speaking of which, thanks to Eric, I'm learning to play the guitar. It's the first time I've ever gotten past learning how to tune it. I'm especially excited to learn how to pluck. It puts a smile on my face thinking about the possibilities.

I've also been thinking about HOPE campers a lot recently. Their personal stories hit me at various moments and whenever I see a magazine article about, "Why children lie?" "Girls and body image," etc. I consider topics that we can address this summer. Looking forward to an amazing summer.

That's a little bit of me. Hope things are going well with the rest of all y'all. Missing you from my little apartment here in the middle of NJ.

Have a little faith

I'm just going to say it, forgive me if it's inappropriate. Any guy trying to keep a pure heart can stop reading now...











I warned you.











I can't wait to get married and have lots of sex. To share a bed. Cuddle. Kiss. Share life with someone rather than come home to an empty apartment. To have a man open the new jelly jar and unjam the closet lock. Where do these random thoughts come from? (as if they're rare...) Partly from the student-written shows I saw tonight about relationships. Maybe from when I thought I should call Trista and see if she wants to hang out; oh, wait, she's probably enjoying the company of her husband. Also, perhaps from not feeling satisfied casually flirting with an old college friend tonight. As if if we ever got together we'd have the same intentions; unfortunately probably not. Where are the middle of the road guys who have the goal point of marriage without the awkward 2nd date, "What's stopping you from getting married?" haste? Where's the best friend friendship that leads to lifetime commitment? Where's my faith and trust that God will provide at the right time?

Woo-hoo!

I sang tonight! It's quite a blessing to have a voice after near silence for the past seven days!

A day of firsts

Today has been a day of many firsts for the week:
- first time I could look over my shoulder when backing up the car (terrible, I know)
- first time I ate a whole piece of fruit
- first walk to campus and back (to get change- ugh)
- first time doing laundry in more than two weeks (I know, I know)
- first and second glasses of milk
- first non-soup meal (Dr. Dad recommended a spicy garlic Chinese dish to help clear out my senses and I had to oblige)
- first successful five hours of detox from pain killers and other perscription drugs
- first time I've thought about Starbucks

Can't say I've opened a textbook this afternoon, yet I think considering the above, I've been productive. Still a little fatigued and I have a monsterous cough that could petrify small children, but I'm about 65% better than I was earlier this week. Thank God because it hasn't been a fun ride.

Oh, and tradition goes in my life to publicly embarass myself whenever possible. And it continues. Yesterday, having not done laundry since I arrived two weeks ago, I put on track pants, rolled up to the knee with a t-shirt and sweatshirt. Since I wasn't feeling well, and was simply hoping to make it through my four classes, I thought this was appropriate... until chapel when I noticed the professors wearing their impressive, intimidating gowns and heard the word "matriculation" whispered through the halls. Yes, I signed the 140 year old matriculation book for all Drew Theological School students, in front of my new professors, peers and friends, during a formal chapel service wearing gym clothes. And since it's the spring semester, there were only about seven others who were matriculating with me... welcome once again to my life....

I can't believe I found a photo to go along with this!

You know that feeling of "I'm sick of being sick"? Health Services says it's not bronchitis, nor strep throat, and hopefully it's a virus that should run it's course between day 5 and 7. If I'm still feeling worse tomorrow, then I'm supposed to return to get more antibiotics. I skipped three classes today since during my first one, I was distracted with the fear that I was going to pass out. My cough medicine causes grogginess so I'm not allowed to drive. I've been sleeping all afternoon with 20 minute intervals of Will and Grace bloopers on youtube. Unfortunately, I had to miss choir (obviously, this is close to life or death if it results in missing choir with Mark) and the WHOS concert tonight (so much for that solo). Grr. I think this is the first time I've been bedridden since I had mono ten years ago. Occassionally, I think, "What is God trying to teach me through this?" and I'll let you know when I figure it out. How much have I eaten today? 1 baby tomato and a plate of nachos at 2pm. Maybe that's why I thought I'd pass out in class, a lack of nourishment. Did I mention I'm sick of being sick? Here's what I think I ought to do to get better: drink a glass of red wine and eat a Krispy Kream donut. Ho-Hos would even work. Too bad I can't drive to the store...

Sickness Day # 4

Shay, another first year seminarian, wandered through our building asking for donations for me and apparently the conversations went like this:

"Hey, do you have anything for congestion or a cold?"
"Why, are you sick?"
"No, but Heather's got something bad."
"New Heather?!"
"Yeah, new Heather."
"What does she have? My mom's a nurse and I'll ask her for suggestions!"

And Shay returned to my room with a humidifier and AirBorne. Much appreciated!

Two nights ago, I woke up every four hours and would take more aspirin. Last night, I slept for full seven hours before waking up for more pain killers. My throat and ears hurt a lot right now but because I got nine and a half hours of sleep, my energy level is up a little bit more. Yesterday, I took three naps between four classes but today I don't have that luxury unless I can sleep during chapel choir. You may be asking, why doesn't that girl go to the doctor? Because my health insurance card is in priority mail. Hopefully it will arrive today.

Don't you hate it when you're sick and you read in books, "Sickness makes us appreciate good health..." Easier said after the fact...

Imagine when I'm pregnant

Well, today was an unproductive day of necessary rest. Between sleeping, sucking on Cold-Eeze, sipping flu relief tea and a bath, I read one page of homework. I woke up feeling completely awful, barely able to breathe while walking to the kitchen but I knew I needed to get remedy supplies. Somehow I made it outside to my car covered in snow and to the grocery store where I slowly hobbled through the store and stocked up on the obvious goods: chicken noodle soup, Cold-Eeze, Day-quill and honey. Got in line where the woman checked each item. Wait, the Day-quill was labeled as $6.99 not $11.99 like she charged me. So I asked and she sent another worker back to check the price who confirmed the $12. Forget it, I'm not paying that much for it. So with border-line tears and frustration, I asked to get something else. I had to hobble all the way back to the pharmacy section and try again. Remember, I struggled with breathing when walking to the kitchen, so across the grocery store a second time was pushing it. Finally I made it home, covered the kitchen table with remedies and I'm on a two hour cycle of alternating Cold-Eeze with the flu tea. I think it's some type of bronchitus since it seems to just be in my lungs and esophagus. I can't imagine what I'll be like when I'm pregnant if I get this upset with a cold.

Don't drink the sand.

It feels like I swallowed a cup of sand and that a heavy hand is limiting my lung capacity. :-( No gym for me today since it hurts to breathe when walking short distances. Gonna take it easy, just studying with a lot of fluid intake this afternoon before Holy Ground and a Super Bowl party. Hoping that I can be sociable for both gatherings.

A new friend

While studying Martin Luther this afternoon, I was happily surprised to read, "Martin Luther wishes salvation to all sincere readers." I felt like he spoke that to me across the 500 year difference...

And (forgive the frankness) I learned that he was a hypocondriac who talked a lot about his bowels. So we have something in common! Let's just say that Mom and I were afraid I had worms after coming home from France... In a strange way, I feel like I made a friend today. I just hope I remember the academic lessons I was supposed to learn.

Tanning at Drew

I completely understand this comes from a limited perspective, but at this moment, I can't think of anything I'd rather do than be a seminarian student here. I really liked my first class which gave me food for thought and I appreciated the emphasis that all this deep theological thought and debate across the generations isn't just for theologians but for all of us. Then I met friends at the gym and I pretended to work out since I'm still uber-sore from Sunday afternoon's work-out. Now I'm enjoying quiet time at my apartment. Maybe it's because nothing's due yet, but I'm soaking up this time like it was sun on a beach.

Do I feel strange being back at Drew? Not at all. I miss friends, but I appreciate it so much after my experiences in the past year and a half. No sunscreen needed here.

Combining forces

There is a happy young lady at the other side of this post. Yesterday was the best Sunday I can remember, brunch with Pete (who had driven down from Maine), Kristin and Luis, my first work-out in eight months and then a new contemporary worship service with Kristin and Luis, then hanging out with Sarah, Eric, Pawel, Chris and Ren in Spirituality House. Not only were these great activities (although my stomach's so sore I can't laugh or sneeze), I appreciate seeing these friends again knowing that a few months ago, I was in France, unsure I'd ever see them again. I don't want to take for granted these friendships before everyone spreads out across the world.

Lots of errands to run today before classes start tomorrow.

Did I mention my two new friends from the theo school? At orientation, I introduced myself, "Hi, my name's Heather and I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know exactly which profession I am preparing for at this point but my BA's in theatre and psychology." The woman next to me said, "Hi, my name's Eshay and I'm a dance minister. I teach people how to pray through movement." Wow, okay. Next, the young man next to her, "Hi, my name's Djore and I just graduated from Juillard in May. I'm the director of the Marble Collegiate Church (whose CD I have!) and I want to be a music minister." ... As soon as everyone was done introducing themselves, I leaned over to Eshay and Djore and said intently, "We need to combine our forces." Oh, baby, am I excited about spending time with those two. Unfortunately, they both commute, however, we'll have classes together.

I have more respect for Californians now.

I've arrived and moved in to grad school housing, a double apartment without a roommate which provides ample space. I'm on the first floor of an old building. Seriously, I think there's a quill holder in one of the desks... The kitchen is the size of a normal closet but it's cute with a lot of shelf space that's out of my reach above my head. After a long drive yesterday and unpacking the car, I thoroughly scrubbed down everything so at least I know there aren't any germs or dust in that space.

My only complaint is that my bed is over the boiler. It's like sleeping on a fault line, complete with rumbling and vibrations that shake the computer and dishes. Weird, right? Weirder still is that it isn't consistent. Just past midnight last night, I timed the quake. There's only a minute of peace before it starts up again. You might advise, "Well just move your bed, Heather." It's not much better in the other room either. It's quiet in the hallway. Maybe I could just pitch a tent out there and sleep on the floor...

Orientation starts this afternoon. I'm pretty excited, anxious excited that will become more healthy when I remember to eat after finishing all the errands including setting up Internet in my room and getting a part-time job.

Here are two interesting points that have already hit me today:
"Paul served a Person, not a cause." -My Utmost for His Highest
What would you do for your sister? Why don't we treat our Christian family members the same way? What would that look like as we encounter the needy world-wide? -K. Hiser

There you go. Hope you have a good day. Here's a shout-out to the Sextons from Madison, NJ, seven hours closer to where you live!

Lost

I lose everything. Once during a performance of Ionesco's The Bald Soprano in which I played The Maid, I lost my duster backstage...

As I pack to head to NJ, I can't find the following:
My alarm clock
My printer
My pillow
My internet cord
My posters
My cell phone ear piece for driving

I can use my cell phone as an alarm clock and I can use one of the pillows from Mom's house. I think internet cords are only about $5 and I'm not upset about the posters. I guess I just won't drive and talk, but the printer? That's kind of necessary for a grad student...

Granted, I've moved five times in the past year, so my lost list probably isn't so bad especially for me.

Still need to pack clothes, shoes and my comforter and clean up my bedroom. Pas de problem. Will probably take about an hour, so why not procrastinate by writing a blog post?

Can't get sick now

Cold-Eeze rocks. Last night, I could feel a bug sneaking into my throat so I went to bed with a hot smelly herbs bean pack. This morning at choir, it was scratchy and by the end of the worship service, I felt like there was a brick on my chest. Sucked on first two Cold-Eezes and drank a lot of water as was instructed. At dinner time, I still felt awful, feverish with chills. But presently at 8:30pm, I'm bouncing back. I'm still sneezing and my throat keeps saying, "Just try me and I'll inflame." However, at least I have more energy. There's no way I can get sick now, three days before I start seminary!

If anyone's up at 8:05am tomorrow morning, the Pan-African choir is supposed to be performing on CBS' morning show (they'll be recording at 5am!). They did a great job on Friday night which, instead of a concert, was actually a Jewish-Baptist Martin Luther King, Jr. Service with more Hebrew than English. It was interesting and totally worth the three hour drive and two hours of Hebrew to see Mark, Tanya, Eric, Kristin and Carla a week before I returned to campus. Looking forward to singing with Mark and Eric again! Soon and very soon...

Clothes might be nice...

5-10 more inches of snow are coming tomorrow morning...

Hopefully Mark Miller's Ubuntu Pan-African choir will have safe travels as they head north from NYC to Boston to perform tomorrow. Mom and I have invited the Kavales, a family from Nairobi, to attend a worship service where the choir will be performing. When I told Eric, a friend and singer in the choir, that I was bringing a Kenyan family, he quickly began making excuses, "It may be a contemporary, American pasteurized version of what they are used to." ;-)

At some point before Wednesday morning, I need to settle down and pack up more than just the pots and pans that are in a box. Clothes might be nice this spring... and necessary!

Just so happy

I don't intend to project the image that I'm going crazy with cabin fever here in New Hampshire as 5-10 more inches of snow fall this morning. Aside for occassionally feeling bored or lonely (totally my fault for losing touch with high school friends years ago), I am usually content reading, running errands and playing cards with Mom and watching football with Dad. I've been able to wear mismatched, comfortable clothes and skip the daily shower. Since I started about twelve books, I've got a lot of reading to finish up in the next week. I just hope this prolonged selah doesn't affect my level of productivity when I start classes.

Yesterday while I was watching some kids during a New Members' luncheon at church, I asked 3-year old Bryce if she knew how to say grace. Her immediate facial expression expressed that she didn't understand, but then her face lit up, "Yes. Grace." ;-)

After lunch on her way out the door, I said to Bryce, "I'll see you later." Bryce looked up at her dad and said, "She's gonna see me again! I'm just so happy." Sweet!

Nine days before I leave for seminary. I'm sure it'll fly faster than I expect.

Funk

Sometimes I can be a hypochondriac... But not when I'm surrounded by lots of kids counting on me and I don't notice that I've had hives for three weeks or athlete's foot for two months. So when an uneven blemish appeared way back at camp, I didn't do anything about it because I was heading off to France. When I got back in the states, I showed Mom and she suggested I show it to a doctor. He didn't recognize it, said not to ignore it and took a blood test last Friday. I had been cool joking about amputation, but for some reason last night, I freaked myself out thinking, "What if it's cancerous? Would I have to get treatment here, so far from my friends? Would I have to drop out of seminary before I started? What if I die?!" See how the hypochondriac comes out? Maybe that's why I was in a funk this morning, on the edge of tears with various thoughts about family members and desires for the future. Mom and Jamie tried to cheer me up with a Burger King's MochaJo (you've got to try that!) and offers to go shopping. I explained that I thought I needed exercise (after the MochaJo, of course). After an hour reading, I cancelled my afternoon social plans, walked the dogs and did a New Year's Evaluation (Download new_year_new_results.doc. ) as was suggested by Tom Davis. Admittedly, I then watched Snoop Dogg's Fatherhood (only admittedly because it was on TV; I do like that show) and talked to a college friend for an hour which brings me here. I've drank four cups of hot chocolate today, a MochaJo, ate one sandwich and a plate of nachos. Maybe my diet has something to do with the funk too, huh? Oh, and a glass of orange juice. A friend, Jessi, who just adopted a two-year old thinks that kids distract you from your own problems, which can be a good thing for people who stress out too much about themselves. Yeah, that might be me right now... Anyone in NH need a babysitter? Or if you're out of state, willing to pay the gas as a travel expense? ;-)

P.S. I did get the blood test results back this afternoon. I totally don't know what any of it means, but in handwriting it says at the bottom, "normal," so I guess I'm okay. If the bill were cheaper, I'd probably be better... I have a dermatologist's appointment before I go back to school, but since I only have catastrophe insurance, maybe I'll just hold out for a while trusting the blood test and avoiding amputation...

Let's cook-off! Bring it!

I woke up this morning with a wild curly fro hoping that it'd settle down during the hour drive before meeting with the district superintendent about possible opportunities concerning employment in the future. Ten minutes before the meeting, I exclaimed, "I need a haircut before I go back to school!" I went in with a barrette pulling most of it off my face, mentally pretending I was bald.

I managed to hold back tears discussing my cluenessness about the future which I consider a great success even if my voice was a little weak. Maybe today is just on my 2-week cry cycle.

Later, I bought kitchen supplies so I can host dinner guests at seminary and offer them proper silverware rather than chopsticks like I did last year. If I have to have it, it might as well be aesthetically pleasing. Everything from skillets to measuring cups are either black or red. I'm ready for a cook-off if anyone's interested. Can we pretend we're part of that chef competition?

Besides one last doctor's appointment, a one day women's retreat and an obligation to watch new members' kids after church on Sunday, I've got nothing left to do besides pack. Not a very good schedule for a work-a-holic... Like you, Amie, hopefully I can step away from the TV. I really do hate that box but it's so temptingly brainless. Maybe I should write a book list and pretend it's my fifth grade summer vacation again...

Kenya

For those of you who know one of my favorite topics of conversation, you'll appreciate the value of this situation.

Last summer, Ree suggested I stop in Africa on my way home from France next summer. I actually had an offer. There's a family who began attending our church this past year from Nairobi, Kenya. The father offered to connect me with church family members who could host me and that I would be welcome to stay for months. Needless to say, I came home and didn't contact the Kenyan family while I was in France because I was embarrassed to discuss the challenges of assimilating into another culture when they had done so well... Tonight I learned more about the family.

The father began attending Asbury in 1999 and his family followed a year later. After two years, the family moved to Ohio and then here to New Hampshire where the father is a chaplain at the local hospital. The oldest son and I are now becoming friends. It's a strange dream come true to discuss with an young African what he has seen concerning AIDS in Africa and his opinion about the best way to help. Jonathan suggests that other countries should help, not out of obligation but because it is the right thing to do. He also thinks that health care education and providing employment for Africans in their homeland are the best ways to aid them. Gotta love a friend who recommends books. Ben Carson's Gifted Hands and Nelson Mandela's autobiography are now on my required reading. :-)

Also, passing along a prayer request: The mass murders in Nairobi seem a lot more personal when it affects the family of a friend. As far as they know, Jonathan's relatives are safe but specifically the church burning is scary for them as a pastor's family. Here's the story: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/07/world/africa/07kenya.html?_r=1&oref=slogin If you want a comparison, consider this being a reaction to the Bush-Gore miscount in Florida three years ago. Initially the polls said the previous president was to remain in power, but Gore wanted a recount. Imagine if Bush were immediately sworn in, refusing to check the numbers. Killing the opponent's supporters was the reaction to this situation in Kenya. Of course, differences include the fact that instead of just being supporters, these Kenyans are related to their president via ethnicity in a tribe. Their connection to the leaders may be different, but the fear and pain of death is the same. Jonathan's hoping someone will help lead the countries leaders to peace via negotiations soon.

Who knows?

A year ago today, I handed in my first "I'm planning to quit" letter to the high school where I was working my first "real" job.

Today, I'm getting ready to go in debt by starting at seminary but reminding myself that God will provide.

A year ago today, I was back in North Carolina having spent New Year's Eve sleeping on the floor of a chapel in New Jersey because nearby hotels were much too expensive.

Today, I'm trying to settle back into my mom's house having spent New Year's Eve watching the ball drop by myself before sleeping in my own bed.

A year ago today, I was hoping to work full-time at Starbucks in Wake County, NC.

Today, I'm hoping to work part-time at Starbucks in Madison, NJ.

I've traveled to Iceland, Norway, France and Ireland this year.

I've slept in a tent on the NC beach, an apartment, a cabin, a Norwegian house and apartment, a monastery in Strasbourg, a chateaux in the Alps, an old French convent with 98 other girls, another chateaux in Lyon, a tiny Parisian hotel, my grandparents' house, a closet, and my own bedroom in the past year.

I swam in a Norwegian fjord, rock climbed in the Alps, rode a bike 25 km down from a village in the Alps, watched paragliders at the world's largest paragliding festival, ate chicken hearts, donkey and kangaroo, befriended young people from China, Germany, Belgium, Netherlands, Canada, Spain and Estonia this fall.


Who knows what this next year will bring? May God lead...