(Okay, so Kayleigh did a list of 100 things to do before she's 30- but she's a year younger than me, AND I don't know how much of this I'll be able to accomplish while I'm on the mission field, so I wasn't quite as ambitious as she was!! Let's see if I can get all these things done before April 21st, 2016!)
1. Do a triathalon
2. Memorize a book of the Bible (as least 4 chapters!)
3. Memorize Psalm 139 in Spanish
4. Earn either Wisconsin DPI Teacher Certification or my Master's Degree (if not both!) (May 15, 2015)
5. Be debt-free
6. Read 200 Books
7. Run a marathon
8. Learn how to knit and make something useful*
9. Read the entire Chronicles of Narnia series in Spanish (already read it in English, don't worry!)
10. Pray for every country in the world (July 21, 2014)
11. Donate blood
12. Compete in a national/international pageant or modeling competition (July 27, 2013- Miss International)
13. Finish my novel
14. Earn a $1,000.00 check from my Amway business
15. Go to Disney World
16. Fill an entire journal without tearing any pages out*
17. Meet my Spanish penpal (Check!)
18. Dress up as a lobster for Halloween (this has been a dream of mine since I was about 11) Halloween 2013!!
19. Write lyrics for ten songs and actually share them (not just keep them in my private journal!)
20. Sew a skirt
21. Learn how to play my guitar
22. Go back to Puebla (June 22, 2015- just drove through it,but it still counts!)
23. Go vegan for a month (Feb 10, 2014- Mar 10, 2014)
24. Follow through on my promise to Kayleigh to take her to the Rainforest Cafe
25. Learn American Sign Language
26. See "Michigan Katie" (Katie R.) face-to-face
27. Watch the Miss America pageant live in Vegas
28. See a live production of "Phantom of the Opera"
29. See all of the Lord of the Rings movies
30. Move ALL of my stuff out of my parents' house
31. Sponsor a Compassion Child again (Dec 30th, 2013- Lidia from El Salvador!)
32. Take a vacation with my girlfriends (overnight, outside of Wausau!) (July 2014- Winnepeg with Camille and Jeesoo!)
33. Learn how to ski or snowboard
34. Take my cousin, Mandy, on a fun trip somewhere to thank her for all the times she's let me crash with her (and carted me around) to modeling gigs in Milwaukee!
35. See a live Packer or Badger game
36. Have $2,500.00 in savings
37. Go a year without drinking soda*
38. Support a missionary at $50.00 a month for 12 months*
39. Be able to have a conversation in French with a native speaker
40. Run a 5K in under 20 minutes
41. Write a children's book and begin the publishing process
42. Become licensed as a Wisconsin foster parent (hopefully I'll be ready for my first placement, but we'll make getting the license my first goal!)
43. Make a vlog channel (Started Jan 21, 2012)
44. See my old roomie, Katie T, face-to-face...regardless of which side of the border we have to do it on! (June 22, 2015)
45. Go to a concert with Heather K, and NOT get snowed out this time!
46. Have my hair cut/highlighted and my nails done by a professional (I take pride in my DIY skills, but this would represent having the financial stability to have a pro do it!)
47. Take a picture with Miss America (had the chance with Caressa Cameron and chickened out- was mad at myself afterwards. I know for a fact that that crown will NOT go on a fan-snubber's head!)
48. Go on a two-day water-only fast (for prayer, not a crash diet!) (Check!)
49. Go to Central or South America
50. Be an actual teacher- have my OWN classroom and students! (May 24, 2012, started teaching at Northcentral Technical College)
*=In progress
Friday, December 9, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Reach Out Wausau Reflection: "Hablo Espanol"
When my church first started preparing for "Reach Out Wausau," a free clinic offering medical care, eye exams, a hot meal, free clothing, and various other services to the Wausau community, I was excited for my churchmates, but didn't pay much attention since I thought I'd be in Spain by then. Well, once I realized I would still be in Wausau on October 1st (the day of the clinic), I started thinking about signing up to be an "advocate" (a volunteer who would stay with an assigned family at the clinic and guide them to whatever services they needed). Several weeks before the clinic, Adam, the husband of one of the clinic-coordinators, urged me to sign up as a bilingual advocate. "A church in another community that didn't even think they had a Hispanic population did a clinic like this, and the people they served ended up being about 70% Hispanic," he told me.
Okay, Wausau definitely has a Hispanic population- that's why I had the job that I did at Kiefer last year. But..."I don't know if I'm really qualified to do it in Spanish," I told him. "I worked with little kids who spoke Spanish this past year (under the supervision of a teacher who speaks Spanish at a nearly-native level), but we're talking medical or deeply spiritual lingo, here."
"Well, I can tell you right now that, no matter how deep the language gets, a Spanish-speaker would be a lot better off with you than they would be with me, or most of the other people in our congregation," Adam pointed out.
Well, yeah, good point...so, I signed my name on the advocate sign-up sheet, and put "Bilingual- English/Spanish" immediately after it. I walked away wondering what I had just gotten myself into.
As I mulled it over in my head over the next few weeks, I was able to calm myself down (somewhat). I didn't think I could handle working with children in Spanish, either, and that had worked out just fine. And when I was studying abroad in Mexico, I managed to get through haircut appoints and doctor's visits- how bad could this be?
However, as October first approached, my nerves started acting up again, especially after we had our advocate training meeting the Monday before. Our associate pastor, Greg, reminded us, "If we give these people a free meal, free clothes, free medical care, or anything else they might need, but don't share the reason why we are doing this, we haven't given them anything." Our number one priority as volunteers was to share the love of Christ with them. I confess, while this should have been an encouraging reminder, it took me from "anxious" to "terrified". Could I even share my faith with a stranger in English?! How could I take this all on in Spanish?! To stress me out more, I discovered that only one other person had officially signed up as a Spanish-speaking advocate- he is certified to teach Spanish and is much more fluent than I am, but he was still only one person. It was pretty much a sure thing that I would be called upon to use my Spanish.
Saturday, the day of the clinic, my dad offered to drive me to church in order to save a parking space at the clinic. I'm glad he did, as I was a nervous wreck and probably wasn't fit to drive that morning! Anyone who saw me beforehand at the volunteer-meeting saw what a pile of nervous energy I was! My good friend, Maria, tried to calm me down and remind me that God was in control, but I barely heard what she said. As the meeting concluded, the advocates all lined up along the hallway that runs through the church building, and, with shaking hands, I wrote, "Habla Espanol" on my nametag. Already, families were lining up to register for the clinic, and many of them were speaking Spanish. Clinic coordinators were going through the line of advocates asking if anyone else could possibly speak Spanish- I think they might have found one other volunteer who said he'd give it a try. I watched as a few families were assigned to their advocates, including the first Spanish speaking family to come in. They were assigned to Eric, my Spanish-speaking churchmate. I watched him greet the family and interact with them confidently in Spanish, and fought the urge to compare my Spanish skills (and general social skills) with his. Then, Carrie, the clinic coordinator, approached me. "Hannah, we need you to take this couple; they need a Spanish speaker."
GAUGH, NO!! I CAN'T DO IT!! "Okay," was all I said out loud, and followed Carrie over to where the couple was seated. It was at that moment that I felt God asking me, "Who are you doing this for?"
Who was I doing this for? Was I wanting to show off my Spanish skills to my church family? Did I want this couple I was about to serve to see me as a hero? Was I trying to prove something to myself? No, that's not why I was here. I had signed up to help out so that God might be honored and glorified, and so that the love of Christ would be reflected to people in need. And nowhere in the Bible had God commanded me to speak another language like a native speaker- He had simply commanded me to rely on Him and follow where He lead me- and now, He was leading me to serve this couple. "Okay, God, take over. I am nothing without You," I prayed, then took a deep breath and gave the couple my warmest smile, "Buenas dias, soy Hannah," I greeted them.
From there, God answered my prayer and "took over." The couple were both able to get eye-exams and much-needed glasses, along with a wonderful meal, some clothes (they had just moved to Wisconsin and were very thankful for free winter clothes!), and information about some programs in the Wausau area that they needed. In between times, I was so blessed with the conversation I was able to have with them. I learned that they lived in Merrill, and had also lived in Wisconsin several years ago, and had lived in several different states in between (he was a construction worker, which moved him around a lot!). I learned that they had one son, who was married and had three children and lived in Peru. I told them that I had a brother who lived in Africa, and that I had lived in Wausau all my life, but had studied at UW La Crosse and had spent a year in Puebla, Mexico. It turned out they were from the same area and were familiar with the university where I'd been an exchange student. At one point, they mentioned that they had lived in Chicago for a short time. "Our pastor is from Chicago!" I told them. "He is a Bears fan. El le gusta los Osos de Chicago!"
"Los Osos de Chicago?!" the husband exclaimed dramatically. "No, no, no! Los GREEN BAY PACKERS!!" All three of us laughed together, and I was reminded of how much we had in common, despite our different cultural backgrounds. At another point in our day, he shared with me that he had suffered from "blastocysts" (comparable to cancer) on his brain several years ago, and didn't expect to live. A doctor had performed surgery, and he had suffered from severe depression afterwards, which is common after such a surgery. "But prayer is powerful, and our God heals," he told me. "Today, no blastocysts, and no depression, even though I never took medicine for the depression. God has healed me. Jesus is the great physician."
I was sad to have to say goodbye once they received everything they needed. We closed in prayer together, and they were presented with Spanish Bibles as a gift. They both gave me hugs and thanked me, asking me to pass their thanks along to everyone who had been a part of this clinic. I served one other guest (an English-speaker) before the clinic closed. (Eric and I joked that neither of us could think in English after speaking Spanish for so long!) As the volunteers began tearing down the clinic and resetting the church for Sunday morning, we all had stories to share- what started out as a cool idea had turned into an incredible day where we were reminded of God's goodness and faithfulness.
As I pulled into church this morning, I almost felt like it was the day after Christmas- weeks of preparation finally climaxing in an incredible event, and now it was all over. However, our speaker in church reminded us that we are called to be the light of the world- that doesn't mean we flip our light on for a Saturday and turn it off when the clinic closes. Being the light of the world is a 24-7 calling- and my prayer is that myself, my brothers and sisters at Wausau Alliance, and the entire Body of Christ might answer that call, all for the glory of God.
Okay, Wausau definitely has a Hispanic population- that's why I had the job that I did at Kiefer last year. But..."I don't know if I'm really qualified to do it in Spanish," I told him. "I worked with little kids who spoke Spanish this past year (under the supervision of a teacher who speaks Spanish at a nearly-native level), but we're talking medical or deeply spiritual lingo, here."
"Well, I can tell you right now that, no matter how deep the language gets, a Spanish-speaker would be a lot better off with you than they would be with me, or most of the other people in our congregation," Adam pointed out.
Well, yeah, good point...so, I signed my name on the advocate sign-up sheet, and put "Bilingual- English/Spanish" immediately after it. I walked away wondering what I had just gotten myself into.
As I mulled it over in my head over the next few weeks, I was able to calm myself down (somewhat). I didn't think I could handle working with children in Spanish, either, and that had worked out just fine. And when I was studying abroad in Mexico, I managed to get through haircut appoints and doctor's visits- how bad could this be?
However, as October first approached, my nerves started acting up again, especially after we had our advocate training meeting the Monday before. Our associate pastor, Greg, reminded us, "If we give these people a free meal, free clothes, free medical care, or anything else they might need, but don't share the reason why we are doing this, we haven't given them anything." Our number one priority as volunteers was to share the love of Christ with them. I confess, while this should have been an encouraging reminder, it took me from "anxious" to "terrified". Could I even share my faith with a stranger in English?! How could I take this all on in Spanish?! To stress me out more, I discovered that only one other person had officially signed up as a Spanish-speaking advocate- he is certified to teach Spanish and is much more fluent than I am, but he was still only one person. It was pretty much a sure thing that I would be called upon to use my Spanish.
Saturday, the day of the clinic, my dad offered to drive me to church in order to save a parking space at the clinic. I'm glad he did, as I was a nervous wreck and probably wasn't fit to drive that morning! Anyone who saw me beforehand at the volunteer-meeting saw what a pile of nervous energy I was! My good friend, Maria, tried to calm me down and remind me that God was in control, but I barely heard what she said. As the meeting concluded, the advocates all lined up along the hallway that runs through the church building, and, with shaking hands, I wrote, "Habla Espanol" on my nametag. Already, families were lining up to register for the clinic, and many of them were speaking Spanish. Clinic coordinators were going through the line of advocates asking if anyone else could possibly speak Spanish- I think they might have found one other volunteer who said he'd give it a try. I watched as a few families were assigned to their advocates, including the first Spanish speaking family to come in. They were assigned to Eric, my Spanish-speaking churchmate. I watched him greet the family and interact with them confidently in Spanish, and fought the urge to compare my Spanish skills (and general social skills) with his. Then, Carrie, the clinic coordinator, approached me. "Hannah, we need you to take this couple; they need a Spanish speaker."
GAUGH, NO!! I CAN'T DO IT!! "Okay," was all I said out loud, and followed Carrie over to where the couple was seated. It was at that moment that I felt God asking me, "Who are you doing this for?"
Who was I doing this for? Was I wanting to show off my Spanish skills to my church family? Did I want this couple I was about to serve to see me as a hero? Was I trying to prove something to myself? No, that's not why I was here. I had signed up to help out so that God might be honored and glorified, and so that the love of Christ would be reflected to people in need. And nowhere in the Bible had God commanded me to speak another language like a native speaker- He had simply commanded me to rely on Him and follow where He lead me- and now, He was leading me to serve this couple. "Okay, God, take over. I am nothing without You," I prayed, then took a deep breath and gave the couple my warmest smile, "Buenas dias, soy Hannah," I greeted them.
From there, God answered my prayer and "took over." The couple were both able to get eye-exams and much-needed glasses, along with a wonderful meal, some clothes (they had just moved to Wisconsin and were very thankful for free winter clothes!), and information about some programs in the Wausau area that they needed. In between times, I was so blessed with the conversation I was able to have with them. I learned that they lived in Merrill, and had also lived in Wisconsin several years ago, and had lived in several different states in between (he was a construction worker, which moved him around a lot!). I learned that they had one son, who was married and had three children and lived in Peru. I told them that I had a brother who lived in Africa, and that I had lived in Wausau all my life, but had studied at UW La Crosse and had spent a year in Puebla, Mexico. It turned out they were from the same area and were familiar with the university where I'd been an exchange student. At one point, they mentioned that they had lived in Chicago for a short time. "Our pastor is from Chicago!" I told them. "He is a Bears fan. El le gusta los Osos de Chicago!"
"Los Osos de Chicago?!" the husband exclaimed dramatically. "No, no, no! Los GREEN BAY PACKERS!!" All three of us laughed together, and I was reminded of how much we had in common, despite our different cultural backgrounds. At another point in our day, he shared with me that he had suffered from "blastocysts" (comparable to cancer) on his brain several years ago, and didn't expect to live. A doctor had performed surgery, and he had suffered from severe depression afterwards, which is common after such a surgery. "But prayer is powerful, and our God heals," he told me. "Today, no blastocysts, and no depression, even though I never took medicine for the depression. God has healed me. Jesus is the great physician."
I was sad to have to say goodbye once they received everything they needed. We closed in prayer together, and they were presented with Spanish Bibles as a gift. They both gave me hugs and thanked me, asking me to pass their thanks along to everyone who had been a part of this clinic. I served one other guest (an English-speaker) before the clinic closed. (Eric and I joked that neither of us could think in English after speaking Spanish for so long!) As the volunteers began tearing down the clinic and resetting the church for Sunday morning, we all had stories to share- what started out as a cool idea had turned into an incredible day where we were reminded of God's goodness and faithfulness.
As I pulled into church this morning, I almost felt like it was the day after Christmas- weeks of preparation finally climaxing in an incredible event, and now it was all over. However, our speaker in church reminded us that we are called to be the light of the world- that doesn't mean we flip our light on for a Saturday and turn it off when the clinic closes. Being the light of the world is a 24-7 calling- and my prayer is that myself, my brothers and sisters at Wausau Alliance, and the entire Body of Christ might answer that call, all for the glory of God.
Friday, September 16, 2011
God in the Details...
So, earlier this week I was offered a modeling job in Chicago- it wasn't glamorous and I only turned over a small profit, but it was with an agency that had just offered me a contract, so I was hoping it would be a chance to get my foot in the door for higher-profile jobs. The plan was for me to leave Wausau at 4:30am, meet up with the client and his wife in Hartford (near Milwaukee), drive to Chicago with them, and then return that evening to Wausau.
Well, Wednesday night I went to meet up with my good friend, Maria, for a bit, and then help out with AWANA at church. Just as I was pulling into our meeting spot, though, the "Brake" light came on in my car. I checked to make sure the emergency brake was off (it was...which I knew, since that car won't go over 3 mph with the e-brake on!). I was concerned, but I enjoyed my time with Maria, drove the car to church afterwards, and then drove home after AWANA. The brake light was on the entire time, even though I made absolutely certain the e-brake was off. I mentioned the problem to my dad when I got home, and after verifying that I had NOT just driven across town and back with the e-brake on, he decided it was probably an issue with the switch on the light. Annoying, but nothing that should stop me from driving to Milwaukee and back.
So, I left at 4:30am as planned on Thursday and made it to the client's home with no problem, successfully completed the modeling gig (easiest job ever, by the way. I literally had to stand there and look pretty for a few hours), then returned to Milwaukee with the clients and hopped into my car to drive home, expecting to be home in time to have dinner with my parents. I stopped to get gas before hitting the interstate, and as I pulled in I felt like I had to hit the brakes awful hard to stop...maybe I was going faster than I realized? Hmm...well, I filled up with gas and headed back toward highway 41. I slowed to a stop before turning onto the on-ramp, and that's when I realized my brakes were complete mush! Um...okay, how about if I don't get on the interstate and drive 75mph with mushy brakes?! (By the way...if you were one of the drivers that I confused with my sudden lane change out of the turn-lane, I apologize!)
I went further down the road hoping I could find a gas station or body shop to pull into, but all there was were residential areas and farmland. I finally pulled over in a residential area and called my dad to ask what he thought I should do. He advised me to find someone to look at the car and not drive it home until it was fixed. Thankfully, there happened to be a mom playing with her kids in front of one of the houses, so I approached her and asked if she knew who I could call. She turned out to be a police officer for the county and arranged for the sheriff to come out and call a tow-truck for me. Unfortunately, there was no way my car could be fixed until morning. The repair shop offered me a rental car to drive home, but my insurance wouldn't cover that, so it would cost several times more than what I had just made at the modeling job! Thankfully, I discovered I was actually in West Bend, where my (biological) sister, Justice lives. Actually, the auto repair place was just around the corner from her boyfriend's mother's house, where she was babysitting his little sister. Justice came to my rescue and picked me up, and they were nice enough to let me crash on their couch for the night. As frustrated as I was that I wasn't able to get home, it was great to catch up with my sister and meet her boyfriend's family (and so wonderful not to have to pay for a rental car or hotel!). My car was fixed by 1:00 this afternoon (it turned out that a brakeline had rusted through, and the brake fluid had leaked out), and I was back home by 3:30.
Reflecting on this whole string of events, I am awed by God's hand of protection and His provision. My brakes could have fallen apart in so many other places- as I was driving home from church on Wednesday (and my church is on top of an extremely steep hill!), before I made it to Milwaukee (which would have meant having to cancel the modeling gig and probably never being booked by the agency again), or, had it been 30 seconds later, as I was going 70 miles an hour on the interstate! The timing couldn't have been better on that one! Then, God lead me to a safe neighborhood where the right person to help me just happened to be standing outside with her children. To top it all of, I happened to be in the same town as my sister...even just a few blocks from the place that repaired my car!
What a great reminder of how, even in a time of frustration and uncertainty, God was still present and at work!!
Well, Wednesday night I went to meet up with my good friend, Maria, for a bit, and then help out with AWANA at church. Just as I was pulling into our meeting spot, though, the "Brake" light came on in my car. I checked to make sure the emergency brake was off (it was...which I knew, since that car won't go over 3 mph with the e-brake on!). I was concerned, but I enjoyed my time with Maria, drove the car to church afterwards, and then drove home after AWANA. The brake light was on the entire time, even though I made absolutely certain the e-brake was off. I mentioned the problem to my dad when I got home, and after verifying that I had NOT just driven across town and back with the e-brake on, he decided it was probably an issue with the switch on the light. Annoying, but nothing that should stop me from driving to Milwaukee and back.
So, I left at 4:30am as planned on Thursday and made it to the client's home with no problem, successfully completed the modeling gig (easiest job ever, by the way. I literally had to stand there and look pretty for a few hours), then returned to Milwaukee with the clients and hopped into my car to drive home, expecting to be home in time to have dinner with my parents. I stopped to get gas before hitting the interstate, and as I pulled in I felt like I had to hit the brakes awful hard to stop...maybe I was going faster than I realized? Hmm...well, I filled up with gas and headed back toward highway 41. I slowed to a stop before turning onto the on-ramp, and that's when I realized my brakes were complete mush! Um...okay, how about if I don't get on the interstate and drive 75mph with mushy brakes?! (By the way...if you were one of the drivers that I confused with my sudden lane change out of the turn-lane, I apologize!)
I went further down the road hoping I could find a gas station or body shop to pull into, but all there was were residential areas and farmland. I finally pulled over in a residential area and called my dad to ask what he thought I should do. He advised me to find someone to look at the car and not drive it home until it was fixed. Thankfully, there happened to be a mom playing with her kids in front of one of the houses, so I approached her and asked if she knew who I could call. She turned out to be a police officer for the county and arranged for the sheriff to come out and call a tow-truck for me. Unfortunately, there was no way my car could be fixed until morning. The repair shop offered me a rental car to drive home, but my insurance wouldn't cover that, so it would cost several times more than what I had just made at the modeling job! Thankfully, I discovered I was actually in West Bend, where my (biological) sister, Justice lives. Actually, the auto repair place was just around the corner from her boyfriend's mother's house, where she was babysitting his little sister. Justice came to my rescue and picked me up, and they were nice enough to let me crash on their couch for the night. As frustrated as I was that I wasn't able to get home, it was great to catch up with my sister and meet her boyfriend's family (and so wonderful not to have to pay for a rental car or hotel!). My car was fixed by 1:00 this afternoon (it turned out that a brakeline had rusted through, and the brake fluid had leaked out), and I was back home by 3:30.
Reflecting on this whole string of events, I am awed by God's hand of protection and His provision. My brakes could have fallen apart in so many other places- as I was driving home from church on Wednesday (and my church is on top of an extremely steep hill!), before I made it to Milwaukee (which would have meant having to cancel the modeling gig and probably never being booked by the agency again), or, had it been 30 seconds later, as I was going 70 miles an hour on the interstate! The timing couldn't have been better on that one! Then, God lead me to a safe neighborhood where the right person to help me just happened to be standing outside with her children. To top it all of, I happened to be in the same town as my sister...even just a few blocks from the place that repaired my car!
What a great reminder of how, even in a time of frustration and uncertainty, God was still present and at work!!
Thursday, September 1, 2011
So How Did it Feel to Have an Eating Disorder?
"So, how did it feel to have an eating disorder? I mean, how did you resist food all the time?"
This question was recently asked of me by a stranger in an online forum. Of course, the beauty/problem of the internet is that it allows you to conceal your identity- I don't know if this person was a 50 year old man or a teenage girl. It sounds like an innocent question- maybe a bit tactless, but innocent nonetheless. However, I remember when I, like so many other people, was the one asking that question...and my curiosity threw me into a long, downward spiral that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I'm hoping I can answer that question here (maybe, if I can remember where that forum was, I'll send that person a link to this blog.)
Let me start with an analogy that most of us can relate to. Have you ever thrown yourself into a project in a poorly ventilated room? Maybe you were doing intense labor in a room that was already hot and stuffy, and whatever you were doing was kicking up dust (or worse) to add to the atmosphere. Or maybe you were painting or polishing wood or gluing something with rubber cement, or coloring with magic markers, and didn't realize how suffocating the fumes were becoming? Maybe you started to feel a little headachey or nauseous, but you were determined to get that project done, so you kept plugging through it. When you finally finished, you stepped outside- and suddenly, the fresh air hits you. You didn't realize how severe that headache or nausea had become until that breath of clean air starting curing it. Why did you spend all day in that disgusting, polluted room? Well, at least now you have a finished project to show for it, right?
In some ways, that's kind of how an eating disorder feels. Let me explain. As early as age nine or ten, I caught on to something about society: people who were overweight were perceived as lazy, disgusting, a burden to others, and ugly. On the other hand, someone who was too thin was at best "lucky to have that problem," and at worse, "A poor, sick person who needs love and compassion." Okay, so apparently being too skinny was waaaaay better than being heavy.
I was also picking up on a message from the media- diet-product commercials and journalism stories talked about how people had gained weight and their lives had fallen apart, or how they had lost weight and their lives "were changed" for the better. Plus, by junior high, I was being exposed to teen movies and stories that glamorized eating disorders. It was always the prima ballerina, the head cheerleader, or the homecoming queen that was anorexic or bulimic. In the worst of these movies, the eating disorder lands her in the hospital (for a whole three minutes of the movie) and the boy she likes comes rushing in to tell her he has loved her all this time and doesn't want to lose her, or her controlling parents sit beside her hospital bed apologizing for pushing her to this point and promising to listen to her from now on. By the next scene, she's fully recovered, still looking like a model, and hand in hand with her new boyfriend or laughing with her parents about something.
I remember in 6th grade, a few of my girlfriends and I discussed how we "wondered what it was like" to have an eating disorder. I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking that maybe MY life would be "changed forever" if I dropped some weight, or picturing my crush sitting beside my hospital bed begging me to get well so he could be my boyfriend. At any rate, I was terrified of gaining weight (even though I knew I wasn't done growing yet) because gaining weight made one "disgusting," didn't it?
So, one day when I was almost twelve, I gave in to my curiosity and my fear of gaining weight and tried making myself throw up- actually, I don't think it was the first time I tried, but it was the first time I succeeded. And it didn't feel good at all, but, somehow, it felt like a great accomplishment to me. From that point on, the suffocating fumes of addiction began to flow around me, but I refused to stop because I wanted to "finish" what I started. I knew that my sore throat was caused by purging or that skipping lunch would mean I couldn't focus on my afternoon classes. I knew that the headaches and nausea I felt were the result of disordered eating habits (although I wouldn't admit it to myself). But I was determined to fit into size zero clothes and weigh under 100 pounds all my life, so I wouldn't give up.
I remember a few times when I tried to stop- I remember meeting my friend's mom who had severe dental damage as a result of being sick and throwing up all the time, and fearing that bulimia would cause the same problem for me. But I couldn't stop- the minute I was left home alone or had the chance to skip a meal unnoticed, I would find myself slipping again. Food had control over me- I was either terrified of it, or I was turning to it for comfort or stress relief, followed by painful episodes of purging. I was willing to sacrifice my own integrity for it- I'd lie to cover up my disordered habits, or steel food and hide it...and then I wondered who I was. Didn't I claim to be a follower of Christ? Wasn't I looked up to as a leader in my church youth group and school Bible club? Why was I doing all this?! Of course, the stress those questions caused me only lead me to more episodes of binging and purging or starving myself.
Freedom finally came for me one night when I was seventeen and a senior in high school. I was on a retreat with my church group and listened to a message about offering myself as a "Living Sacrifice," to God. For the first time, I saw my eating disorder not as just a bad habit, but as an addiction and a sin...a sin that God wanted me to give over to Him so that I could find freedom in Him. When my youth pastor initiated an alter call, I went forward and knelt down to surrender my struggle to God. Afterwards, I confessed to the other girls and female youth leaders, and then went with my three closest friends to call my parents and tell them the truth. I had expected judgment (so much for the fantasies in the movies) but only received assurance that I was loved and that my friends and family would stick by me on the road to recovery.
That was when I stepped out of the stuffy, fume-filled room into the fresh air. I had forgotten what it was like to be free of addiction and to have food as an alli, rather than an enemy of my health. I had not realized how much my eating disorder had taken over my life until I remembered what it was like to be physically and emotionally healthy.
There's one way, though, that my opening analogy fails: after I stepped out of that addiction-polluted room into the fresh air of freedom, there was no successful, completed "project" to show for it. I wasn't any more pretty, popular, or successful than I would have been without the pain and suffering I'd put myself through. I try not to dwell on what could have been, but sometimes I wonder how my teen years would have been different if I had committed to a healthy lifestyle, rather than allowing an eating disorder to overtake me. I played tennis from 8th to 12th grade, and I doubt I could have been a star, but maybe I would have won more matches or made the lower end of varsity if I had been physically healthier. Maybe I could have done better academically if I had been more energized and able to focus on school. I guess those are questions that can never be answered. I am extremely blessed in that I recovered physically 100% from my eating disorder- I have heard horror stories of people facing lifelong medical issues, ranging from not being able to lay down unless their stomach is empty (or else they'll throw up) to sterility.
So, to the person who asked me, I hope that answers your question. I am so grateful for God's forgiveness, mercy, and healing power...but, if I had the chance to travel back in time to any day of my life, I would choose that day when I was twelve, and just never take that first step.
This question was recently asked of me by a stranger in an online forum. Of course, the beauty/problem of the internet is that it allows you to conceal your identity- I don't know if this person was a 50 year old man or a teenage girl. It sounds like an innocent question- maybe a bit tactless, but innocent nonetheless. However, I remember when I, like so many other people, was the one asking that question...and my curiosity threw me into a long, downward spiral that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I'm hoping I can answer that question here (maybe, if I can remember where that forum was, I'll send that person a link to this blog.)
Let me start with an analogy that most of us can relate to. Have you ever thrown yourself into a project in a poorly ventilated room? Maybe you were doing intense labor in a room that was already hot and stuffy, and whatever you were doing was kicking up dust (or worse) to add to the atmosphere. Or maybe you were painting or polishing wood or gluing something with rubber cement, or coloring with magic markers, and didn't realize how suffocating the fumes were becoming? Maybe you started to feel a little headachey or nauseous, but you were determined to get that project done, so you kept plugging through it. When you finally finished, you stepped outside- and suddenly, the fresh air hits you. You didn't realize how severe that headache or nausea had become until that breath of clean air starting curing it. Why did you spend all day in that disgusting, polluted room? Well, at least now you have a finished project to show for it, right?
In some ways, that's kind of how an eating disorder feels. Let me explain. As early as age nine or ten, I caught on to something about society: people who were overweight were perceived as lazy, disgusting, a burden to others, and ugly. On the other hand, someone who was too thin was at best "lucky to have that problem," and at worse, "A poor, sick person who needs love and compassion." Okay, so apparently being too skinny was waaaaay better than being heavy.
I was also picking up on a message from the media- diet-product commercials and journalism stories talked about how people had gained weight and their lives had fallen apart, or how they had lost weight and their lives "were changed" for the better. Plus, by junior high, I was being exposed to teen movies and stories that glamorized eating disorders. It was always the prima ballerina, the head cheerleader, or the homecoming queen that was anorexic or bulimic. In the worst of these movies, the eating disorder lands her in the hospital (for a whole three minutes of the movie) and the boy she likes comes rushing in to tell her he has loved her all this time and doesn't want to lose her, or her controlling parents sit beside her hospital bed apologizing for pushing her to this point and promising to listen to her from now on. By the next scene, she's fully recovered, still looking like a model, and hand in hand with her new boyfriend or laughing with her parents about something.
I remember in 6th grade, a few of my girlfriends and I discussed how we "wondered what it was like" to have an eating disorder. I'm sure I wasn't the only one thinking that maybe MY life would be "changed forever" if I dropped some weight, or picturing my crush sitting beside my hospital bed begging me to get well so he could be my boyfriend. At any rate, I was terrified of gaining weight (even though I knew I wasn't done growing yet) because gaining weight made one "disgusting," didn't it?
So, one day when I was almost twelve, I gave in to my curiosity and my fear of gaining weight and tried making myself throw up- actually, I don't think it was the first time I tried, but it was the first time I succeeded. And it didn't feel good at all, but, somehow, it felt like a great accomplishment to me. From that point on, the suffocating fumes of addiction began to flow around me, but I refused to stop because I wanted to "finish" what I started. I knew that my sore throat was caused by purging or that skipping lunch would mean I couldn't focus on my afternoon classes. I knew that the headaches and nausea I felt were the result of disordered eating habits (although I wouldn't admit it to myself). But I was determined to fit into size zero clothes and weigh under 100 pounds all my life, so I wouldn't give up.
I remember a few times when I tried to stop- I remember meeting my friend's mom who had severe dental damage as a result of being sick and throwing up all the time, and fearing that bulimia would cause the same problem for me. But I couldn't stop- the minute I was left home alone or had the chance to skip a meal unnoticed, I would find myself slipping again. Food had control over me- I was either terrified of it, or I was turning to it for comfort or stress relief, followed by painful episodes of purging. I was willing to sacrifice my own integrity for it- I'd lie to cover up my disordered habits, or steel food and hide it...and then I wondered who I was. Didn't I claim to be a follower of Christ? Wasn't I looked up to as a leader in my church youth group and school Bible club? Why was I doing all this?! Of course, the stress those questions caused me only lead me to more episodes of binging and purging or starving myself.
Freedom finally came for me one night when I was seventeen and a senior in high school. I was on a retreat with my church group and listened to a message about offering myself as a "Living Sacrifice," to God. For the first time, I saw my eating disorder not as just a bad habit, but as an addiction and a sin...a sin that God wanted me to give over to Him so that I could find freedom in Him. When my youth pastor initiated an alter call, I went forward and knelt down to surrender my struggle to God. Afterwards, I confessed to the other girls and female youth leaders, and then went with my three closest friends to call my parents and tell them the truth. I had expected judgment (so much for the fantasies in the movies) but only received assurance that I was loved and that my friends and family would stick by me on the road to recovery.
That was when I stepped out of the stuffy, fume-filled room into the fresh air. I had forgotten what it was like to be free of addiction and to have food as an alli, rather than an enemy of my health. I had not realized how much my eating disorder had taken over my life until I remembered what it was like to be physically and emotionally healthy.
There's one way, though, that my opening analogy fails: after I stepped out of that addiction-polluted room into the fresh air of freedom, there was no successful, completed "project" to show for it. I wasn't any more pretty, popular, or successful than I would have been without the pain and suffering I'd put myself through. I try not to dwell on what could have been, but sometimes I wonder how my teen years would have been different if I had committed to a healthy lifestyle, rather than allowing an eating disorder to overtake me. I played tennis from 8th to 12th grade, and I doubt I could have been a star, but maybe I would have won more matches or made the lower end of varsity if I had been physically healthier. Maybe I could have done better academically if I had been more energized and able to focus on school. I guess those are questions that can never be answered. I am extremely blessed in that I recovered physically 100% from my eating disorder- I have heard horror stories of people facing lifelong medical issues, ranging from not being able to lay down unless their stomach is empty (or else they'll throw up) to sterility.
So, to the person who asked me, I hope that answers your question. I am so grateful for God's forgiveness, mercy, and healing power...but, if I had the chance to travel back in time to any day of my life, I would choose that day when I was twelve, and just never take that first step.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Since I've been Gone...
Hi everyone!
Well, those of you who also read my "Spain" blog (www.hannahinspain2012.wordpress.com ) know what's going on, but here's a quick summary for the rest:
I spent the month of July in Greenwood, Indiana at the One Mission Society headquarters in training for my upcoming mission to Spain. Among everyone who was there for training, the regions of origin included Wisconsin, Texas, Arizona, Mississippi, Canada, Ukraine, Australia, and Northern Ireland, and the regions we were headed to included Ecuador, the Republic of Ireland, Mexico, Haiti, Spain, Ukraine, and east Africa. There were four married couples (two of which had their children with them) and four singles including myself. It was great to be a part of this group and grow close to my brothers and sisters in Christ from around the world. What a powerful reminder that we are one body who answers to the God of the universe!
While I was in Greenwood, I was asked to accept a different assignment from what I had planned in Spain. I was supposed to be teaching English to adults (in an informal setting), but the field really needs me to teach ESL full-time at the Evangelical Christian Academy. This school is for children of missionaries, and I will be teaching ESL (which will include some Missionary Kids and possibly some Spain natives). I admit that I'm accepting this assignment with mixed emotions- since it was dropped in my lap, I know that only God could have arranged this. At the same time, I feel pretty unprepared to take on my own classroom in another country, and I was discouraged because I felt like I would be less "important" on the field since I wouldn't be directly evangelizing to the people of Spain.
However, I'm continually reminded that I have no reason to be discouraged- I remember feeling overwhelmed like this one year ago when I first received my Americorps assignment, and, looking back, I could not have asked for a better assignment. I had hoped to be placed in a middle or high school, but instead I was assigned to a 4-year-old-kindergarten class for Hispanic newcomers. Looking back, I am awed by how blessed I was to work with students who wanted to start and end each day by giving me a hug, or to have a supervising teacher who became a role-model and friend to me (thanks, Samantha!). I shouldn't doubt that God is able to do it all over again as I head into this next venture. In addition, He has made it clear to me that my position is one that IS needed on the field, even if it isn't what I had anticipated. Just a few nights ago during a presentation to my potential supporters, one of my churchmates spoke up and said she was the product of a MK school and she wouldn't be who she was today without the teachers that God had placed in her path.
Another hard fact for me to accept was the possibility (looking more and more imminent) that I will actually be leaving in January 2012 instead of Sept 2011. My biggest concern is that my position with Americorps is done at the end of this month, so I don't know what I will do for work until January. I HAVE applied for adjunct faculty at Northcentral Technical college and am taking a course to get my substitute teaching permit, so I'm hoping that one or both of these opportunities work out for me (just, please, no more call centers or minimum-wage jobs!!). There is still a chance that my support could come in miraculously by the end of this month, (which I am praying for!!), but, whatever happens, I'm so glad I know that God is sovereign and His plans are never a day late!!
Well, those of you who also read my "Spain" blog (www.hannahinspain2012.wordpress.com ) know what's going on, but here's a quick summary for the rest:
I spent the month of July in Greenwood, Indiana at the One Mission Society headquarters in training for my upcoming mission to Spain. Among everyone who was there for training, the regions of origin included Wisconsin, Texas, Arizona, Mississippi, Canada, Ukraine, Australia, and Northern Ireland, and the regions we were headed to included Ecuador, the Republic of Ireland, Mexico, Haiti, Spain, Ukraine, and east Africa. There were four married couples (two of which had their children with them) and four singles including myself. It was great to be a part of this group and grow close to my brothers and sisters in Christ from around the world. What a powerful reminder that we are one body who answers to the God of the universe!
While I was in Greenwood, I was asked to accept a different assignment from what I had planned in Spain. I was supposed to be teaching English to adults (in an informal setting), but the field really needs me to teach ESL full-time at the Evangelical Christian Academy. This school is for children of missionaries, and I will be teaching ESL (which will include some Missionary Kids and possibly some Spain natives). I admit that I'm accepting this assignment with mixed emotions- since it was dropped in my lap, I know that only God could have arranged this. At the same time, I feel pretty unprepared to take on my own classroom in another country, and I was discouraged because I felt like I would be less "important" on the field since I wouldn't be directly evangelizing to the people of Spain.
However, I'm continually reminded that I have no reason to be discouraged- I remember feeling overwhelmed like this one year ago when I first received my Americorps assignment, and, looking back, I could not have asked for a better assignment. I had hoped to be placed in a middle or high school, but instead I was assigned to a 4-year-old-kindergarten class for Hispanic newcomers. Looking back, I am awed by how blessed I was to work with students who wanted to start and end each day by giving me a hug, or to have a supervising teacher who became a role-model and friend to me (thanks, Samantha!). I shouldn't doubt that God is able to do it all over again as I head into this next venture. In addition, He has made it clear to me that my position is one that IS needed on the field, even if it isn't what I had anticipated. Just a few nights ago during a presentation to my potential supporters, one of my churchmates spoke up and said she was the product of a MK school and she wouldn't be who she was today without the teachers that God had placed in her path.
Another hard fact for me to accept was the possibility (looking more and more imminent) that I will actually be leaving in January 2012 instead of Sept 2011. My biggest concern is that my position with Americorps is done at the end of this month, so I don't know what I will do for work until January. I HAVE applied for adjunct faculty at Northcentral Technical college and am taking a course to get my substitute teaching permit, so I'm hoping that one or both of these opportunities work out for me (just, please, no more call centers or minimum-wage jobs!!). There is still a chance that my support could come in miraculously by the end of this month, (which I am praying for!!), but, whatever happens, I'm so glad I know that God is sovereign and His plans are never a day late!!
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Downhere's "Let me Rediscover You"
Your spirit hovers over my waters
Your love burns longer than the sun
The skies of thunder echo Your wonder
Your praises can't be over - sung
The whole Universe is witness
To only a part of what You've done
So let me rediscover You
And breathe in me Your life anew
Tell me of the God I never knew
Oh, let me rediscover You
You see my weakness, my pride, my blindness
You wield your power through them all
Of all the mysteries, still, the greatest to me
Is that you're faithful when I fall
How can I say I know You
When what I know is still so small?
Let me rediscover You and breathe in me Your life anew
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Tell me of the God I never knew
Oh, let me rediscover You
Let me cry "Holy, Holy, Holy"
Let me awaken to your majesty
And see a glimmer of your glory
Let me abide in you
let me rediscover You
and by Your grace I'll follow through
reveal to me the God I thought I knew
let me rediscover You
And breathe in me Your life anew
Tell me of the God I never knew
And let me rediscover You
Oh, let me rediscover You
Tell me of the God I never knew
Jesus, let me rediscover You.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Desperate
Ever committed yourself to something and then thought, "What did I just get myself into?"
As I prepare for my time on the mission field, I am reminded that I will be headed into a very post-modern, liberal culture to share God's plan for Salvation. I don't know the post-modern mindset. I could go into a crisis pregnancy center and share my story with women who may be considering an abortion. I could go into an eating-disorder ward and tell the patients that I know their pain. Or I could just keep working with children, like I enjoy doing now.
But God hasn't called me to spend this next year doing crisis pregnancy, eating disorder, or children's ministry. He's called me to something completely out of my comfort zone. He's called me to raise $22,000 to do it, knowing that I am not quite making minimum wage with Americorps, nor do I have a "sales" personality that will make fundraising easy, and that unemployment rates are sky-high and no one has money burning a hole in their pocket. He's called me to go without clear direction- I know the missions org has everything under control for the year that I will be there, but I have no idea what to do when I get back to the US...will there be a job open? Am I supposed to continue my education? How will I pay for school? How about a car or a place to live?
This is a scary place to be in. But I'm glad I'm here.
I'm reminded of just how desperately I need God. I can't accomplish any of this on my own. When everything falls into place and I look back, I will remember just how sovereign He is. I will remember that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.
I can't wait to see this all happen and know that it's God in action.
As I prepare for my time on the mission field, I am reminded that I will be headed into a very post-modern, liberal culture to share God's plan for Salvation. I don't know the post-modern mindset. I could go into a crisis pregnancy center and share my story with women who may be considering an abortion. I could go into an eating-disorder ward and tell the patients that I know their pain. Or I could just keep working with children, like I enjoy doing now.
But God hasn't called me to spend this next year doing crisis pregnancy, eating disorder, or children's ministry. He's called me to something completely out of my comfort zone. He's called me to raise $22,000 to do it, knowing that I am not quite making minimum wage with Americorps, nor do I have a "sales" personality that will make fundraising easy, and that unemployment rates are sky-high and no one has money burning a hole in their pocket. He's called me to go without clear direction- I know the missions org has everything under control for the year that I will be there, but I have no idea what to do when I get back to the US...will there be a job open? Am I supposed to continue my education? How will I pay for school? How about a car or a place to live?
This is a scary place to be in. But I'm glad I'm here.
I'm reminded of just how desperately I need God. I can't accomplish any of this on my own. When everything falls into place and I look back, I will remember just how sovereign He is. I will remember that I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.
I can't wait to see this all happen and know that it's God in action.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Quiet my Heart by Brooke Barrett Smith
Funny how God speaks to me sometimes.
Today I attended a bridal shower for a friend that I have literally known all my life. I am so happy for her and felt so blessed to share her special day with her, but there was some internal battles going on. I realized that, out of all the girls I grew up attending church with, I am now the only one who isn't engaged or married. Plus, it was hard to have other shower guests walk up to me and say, "Are you home for the weekend?" and having to tell them that no, I live at home and I have been living at home for over a year now.
I ended up going home feeling stressed out. Why is it that all my friends have found their careers and the men of their dreams, and I haven't? I am serving in Americorps until August and then I will be in Spain for a year, but what am I doing after that? Graduate school for teacher certification? How am I going to pay for it? And is it worth it, or will these changes taking place flood the market with unemployed teachers? If I'm not supposed to be a teacher, than what am I going to do with my life? And am I ever going to meet someone that I can spend the rest of my life with? Or am I never going to do the one thing I've always dreamed of doing: being a wife and a mom?
I was trying to wind down before bed and I was just browsing youtube, and I typed in Brooke Barretsmith out of curiosity- my brother was actually friends with her before she made it big in the music world, and I haven't had much opportunity to hear her. I clicked on this song, never having heard it before...and I knew a few lines into it that I hadn't clicked it by chance! What a great reminder from God to enjoy the moments I'm in and trust Him with the future!
Today I attended a bridal shower for a friend that I have literally known all my life. I am so happy for her and felt so blessed to share her special day with her, but there was some internal battles going on. I realized that, out of all the girls I grew up attending church with, I am now the only one who isn't engaged or married. Plus, it was hard to have other shower guests walk up to me and say, "Are you home for the weekend?" and having to tell them that no, I live at home and I have been living at home for over a year now.
I ended up going home feeling stressed out. Why is it that all my friends have found their careers and the men of their dreams, and I haven't? I am serving in Americorps until August and then I will be in Spain for a year, but what am I doing after that? Graduate school for teacher certification? How am I going to pay for it? And is it worth it, or will these changes taking place flood the market with unemployed teachers? If I'm not supposed to be a teacher, than what am I going to do with my life? And am I ever going to meet someone that I can spend the rest of my life with? Or am I never going to do the one thing I've always dreamed of doing: being a wife and a mom?
I was trying to wind down before bed and I was just browsing youtube, and I typed in Brooke Barretsmith out of curiosity- my brother was actually friends with her before she made it big in the music world, and I haven't had much opportunity to hear her. I clicked on this song, never having heard it before...and I knew a few lines into it that I hadn't clicked it by chance! What a great reminder from God to enjoy the moments I'm in and trust Him with the future!
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
My Latest Americorps Reflection: A Preschool Teacher's Prayer
For blog readers and facebook stalkers: I have to regularly write creative-ish snippets for our Americorps "Reflection Log" and this is my latest. I'm not sure how it is going to go over since Americorps is supposed to be kind of like the Peacecorps a-religious a-political stance, but I thought I'd share it with the rest of the world in the hopes that some people would appreciate it!!!
(We talked in our training last Thursday about how, no matter how hard you try not to get attatched to students, you are going to find yourself wishing you could just take some students home with you. However, the fact is, you HAVE to let them go at the end of each day and try not to spend all evening worrying about them. I know this poem is not "politically correct," but, when you come to believe in and know God in a personal way, you can't keep Him out of any area of your life, including your work. Quite frankly, the one thing that keeps me from driving myself crazy worrying is knowing that I can offer up my prayers for the students who concern me most!)
"A Preschool Teacher's Prayer"
The clock has ticked to 2:15,
Another day comes to an end.
I'm zipping coats, tying boots
And hugging goodbye my little friends.
I'll see them all again tomorrow
But until the morning light
It's only up to You, God,
To watch over them tonight.
For the girl who comes each morning
Who's so pretty and so smart,
But looks so sad, tired and hungry
That it just wrecks my heart:
If nobody notices,
Tonight when she comes home,
Will You please put Your arms around her
So she won't feel so alone?
And for the boy with the sweet smile
Who's parents just can't make ends meet,
Will You keep them warm on this cold night
And please make sure they eat?
And the one who's scared to come to school,
God, please let her know
That 'though the chemo took her hair
She's still so beautiful.
You have a universe to run,
But You care for the sparrows to,
So if I care for these little angels,
Then, I'm sure, so do You.
I'd take them all into my own home
If that were something I could do,
But until they're safe with me again,
God, I lift them up to You.
(We talked in our training last Thursday about how, no matter how hard you try not to get attatched to students, you are going to find yourself wishing you could just take some students home with you. However, the fact is, you HAVE to let them go at the end of each day and try not to spend all evening worrying about them. I know this poem is not "politically correct," but, when you come to believe in and know God in a personal way, you can't keep Him out of any area of your life, including your work. Quite frankly, the one thing that keeps me from driving myself crazy worrying is knowing that I can offer up my prayers for the students who concern me most!)
"A Preschool Teacher's Prayer"
The clock has ticked to 2:15,
Another day comes to an end.
I'm zipping coats, tying boots
And hugging goodbye my little friends.
I'll see them all again tomorrow
But until the morning light
It's only up to You, God,
To watch over them tonight.
For the girl who comes each morning
Who's so pretty and so smart,
But looks so sad, tired and hungry
That it just wrecks my heart:
If nobody notices,
Tonight when she comes home,
Will You please put Your arms around her
So she won't feel so alone?
And for the boy with the sweet smile
Who's parents just can't make ends meet,
Will You keep them warm on this cold night
And please make sure they eat?
And the one who's scared to come to school,
God, please let her know
That 'though the chemo took her hair
She's still so beautiful.
You have a universe to run,
But You care for the sparrows to,
So if I care for these little angels,
Then, I'm sure, so do You.
I'd take them all into my own home
If that were something I could do,
But until they're safe with me again,
God, I lift them up to You.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Top 10 Ways to Annoy a Missionary-In-Preparation (WARNING: CONTAINS SARCASM AND EXAGERRATION!)
(Okay, a lot of these things do happen, and they are really, really, really annoying...but overall, don't take this too seriously! I'm just getting it off my chest!)
10. "If I'm going to support you, you had better be working all the time, not just fooling around!"
No, it's not okay for someone to raise support for a "missions trip" and then go hang out in tourist spots for 6 days and spend one day evangelizing. But being a missionary is a career, just like being a pastor, teacher, nurse, etc. Missionaries need time off, they need to get out of their houses, they need to socialize and they need to recharge their batteries. And, sometimes, depending on what atmosphere or culture they are in, they CAN'T minister (ie if they work in a school and students are on vacation, or if they are serving in Spain and it's the siesta hour). If we aren't doing something unbiblical or spending ridiculous amounts of money, it shouldn't be an issue if we have a day or weekend off here or there. Hey, sometimes, we even need to *gasp* eat and sleep!
9. "You need to see this place, and this place, and this event, or all your time there is wasted."
On the other hand, we are not international students and we are NOT tourists! We are in our host areas to minister to the people there. I think the most annoying thing I here is when missionaries come home from warmer places and everyone asks why they are so pale. Well...shocker, they don't use your support money to go hang out on the beach all day!
8. "Did you hear about the national tragedy that just happened in the country you are going to?"
Well, maybe we did...or maybe we didn't notice it, since national tragedies happen every day all over the world! No country or region is 100% safe! No missions organization wants to kill off their missionaries; they will all take the time to prepare us to be safe in our host areas. And, if they don't feel like they can safetly send missionaries there, they probably won't. Of course, it should go without saying that the safest place to be is in the will of God!
7. You have a new facebook post: "I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR GOING TO ANTIRELIGIONLAND AND CONVERTING THEM ALL TO CHRISTIANITY!"
It's the 21st century, people! In some countries, the government can intercede social networking and email (or even snailmail), no matter how high your privacy settings may be! And, if they read something about a missions work in a country where religion is oppressed, we could receive a one-way ticket back home...or much, much worse. Before contacting a missionary, make sure that there is no coded language that you are supposed to be using for their protection. Even if a missionary is in an area of religious freedom, keep in mind that the people they are ministering to may very well see the messages you send, and may end their relationship with us if they feel we are going to try to convert them or push religion on them.
6. "I'm an expert on the region you're going too..."
Unless you've spent time in the same region (and a vacation at a resort doesn't count!) you are NOT an expert, especially compared to those who have gone before us. Please, rather than bombarding us with unsolicited travel/culture advice, let us learn from our missions organization and other veterans that we might network with. Unsolicited and unreliable advice just adds to our stress as we have to sort through and process it just to see if there is a grain of truth in it!
5. "Why are you going there? This region needs you more, and this ministry is better than that one!"
You know...this one could actually have some credibility...if it's God who says it. Otherwise, we don't need someone else trying to play the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives. If you have such a passion for another ministry or region, maybe you should apply there, rather than trying to steer other missionaries there!
4. "Hey, isn't your sister/daughter/friend going to be a missionary? Well, I want to support them but I need to know some gossip-er, I mean, INFORMATION- first!"
Okay, if you have questions or concerns, stop being a wuss/weasel and just ask us directly. Our friends and family should not have to carry the burden of knowing all about our plans, and you are implying that you don't trust us to give you honest, informed answers to your questions.
3. "Are you really qualified for this? You have student loans. You don't have a degree in ministry. You don't speak the language there, you don't you don't you don't...."
Yes, we know we aren't heros and that we can't do anything on our own. But we also know the cliche that "God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called." Please don't help Satan perpetuate the lie that we shouldn't be going on the mission field because we aren't qualified to do God's work. And, to answer the first three directly 1) Each individual missions group has their own policy on student loans or any other kind of debt, it is between the missionary and the org to work it out. 2) Not all- in fact, a lot of missions groups do not require a degree in ministry. In fact, in some regions/ministries, it is better to NOT have a degree in ministry to avoid raising suspicions from the government and the people you will serve. 3) You can't learn a language without being immersed in it. Most missionaries do not a have a strong grasp on a 2nd or 3rd language until they have been in their host countries for a while.
2. "What are you going to do if all your support doesn't come in?"
Mmm, I'm thinking I'll go be a bum and live off your tax payer dollars. Sound good?
Okay, can you at least pretend to have faith in God to provide for us? We are following what we believe to be God's calling on our lives right now, and even if we are mistaken, we are trusting Him to reveal His true plan for us when the time is right.
And finally, the MOST annoying and frequent one I've gotten so far:
1. "You are going to meet Mr. Right on the missions field! Yes you are!"
We go on the missions field to serve God and minister to others- NOT to find our future spouses! Would you write a check to commit a monthly gift to someone to support their eharmony subscription? No way! So why would we ask people to support our mission if our only mission is to find "the one?" The Church and our society send the constant message that singleness is a disease that we need to cure- even if the only cure is just settling for whoever will take us. This lie makes it hard to focus on anything but finding a husband or wife- and we do NOT need distractions as we go off to the missions field. Please, don't even joke around about this kind of thing with us; we need you to help us stay focused, not distract us.
10. "If I'm going to support you, you had better be working all the time, not just fooling around!"
No, it's not okay for someone to raise support for a "missions trip" and then go hang out in tourist spots for 6 days and spend one day evangelizing. But being a missionary is a career, just like being a pastor, teacher, nurse, etc. Missionaries need time off, they need to get out of their houses, they need to socialize and they need to recharge their batteries. And, sometimes, depending on what atmosphere or culture they are in, they CAN'T minister (ie if they work in a school and students are on vacation, or if they are serving in Spain and it's the siesta hour). If we aren't doing something unbiblical or spending ridiculous amounts of money, it shouldn't be an issue if we have a day or weekend off here or there. Hey, sometimes, we even need to *gasp* eat and sleep!
9. "You need to see this place, and this place, and this event, or all your time there is wasted."
On the other hand, we are not international students and we are NOT tourists! We are in our host areas to minister to the people there. I think the most annoying thing I here is when missionaries come home from warmer places and everyone asks why they are so pale. Well...shocker, they don't use your support money to go hang out on the beach all day!
8. "Did you hear about the national tragedy that just happened in the country you are going to?"
Well, maybe we did...or maybe we didn't notice it, since national tragedies happen every day all over the world! No country or region is 100% safe! No missions organization wants to kill off their missionaries; they will all take the time to prepare us to be safe in our host areas. And, if they don't feel like they can safetly send missionaries there, they probably won't. Of course, it should go without saying that the safest place to be is in the will of God!
7. You have a new facebook post: "I'M SO PROUD OF YOU FOR GOING TO ANTIRELIGIONLAND AND CONVERTING THEM ALL TO CHRISTIANITY!"
It's the 21st century, people! In some countries, the government can intercede social networking and email (or even snailmail), no matter how high your privacy settings may be! And, if they read something about a missions work in a country where religion is oppressed, we could receive a one-way ticket back home...or much, much worse. Before contacting a missionary, make sure that there is no coded language that you are supposed to be using for their protection. Even if a missionary is in an area of religious freedom, keep in mind that the people they are ministering to may very well see the messages you send, and may end their relationship with us if they feel we are going to try to convert them or push religion on them.
6. "I'm an expert on the region you're going too..."
Unless you've spent time in the same region (and a vacation at a resort doesn't count!) you are NOT an expert, especially compared to those who have gone before us. Please, rather than bombarding us with unsolicited travel/culture advice, let us learn from our missions organization and other veterans that we might network with. Unsolicited and unreliable advice just adds to our stress as we have to sort through and process it just to see if there is a grain of truth in it!
5. "Why are you going there? This region needs you more, and this ministry is better than that one!"
You know...this one could actually have some credibility...if it's God who says it. Otherwise, we don't need someone else trying to play the role of the Holy Spirit in our lives. If you have such a passion for another ministry or region, maybe you should apply there, rather than trying to steer other missionaries there!
4. "Hey, isn't your sister/daughter/friend going to be a missionary? Well, I want to support them but I need to know some gossip-er, I mean, INFORMATION- first!"
Okay, if you have questions or concerns, stop being a wuss/weasel and just ask us directly. Our friends and family should not have to carry the burden of knowing all about our plans, and you are implying that you don't trust us to give you honest, informed answers to your questions.
3. "Are you really qualified for this? You have student loans. You don't have a degree in ministry. You don't speak the language there, you don't you don't you don't...."
Yes, we know we aren't heros and that we can't do anything on our own. But we also know the cliche that "God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called." Please don't help Satan perpetuate the lie that we shouldn't be going on the mission field because we aren't qualified to do God's work. And, to answer the first three directly 1) Each individual missions group has their own policy on student loans or any other kind of debt, it is between the missionary and the org to work it out. 2) Not all- in fact, a lot of missions groups do not require a degree in ministry. In fact, in some regions/ministries, it is better to NOT have a degree in ministry to avoid raising suspicions from the government and the people you will serve. 3) You can't learn a language without being immersed in it. Most missionaries do not a have a strong grasp on a 2nd or 3rd language until they have been in their host countries for a while.
2. "What are you going to do if all your support doesn't come in?"
Mmm, I'm thinking I'll go be a bum and live off your tax payer dollars. Sound good?
Okay, can you at least pretend to have faith in God to provide for us? We are following what we believe to be God's calling on our lives right now, and even if we are mistaken, we are trusting Him to reveal His true plan for us when the time is right.
And finally, the MOST annoying and frequent one I've gotten so far:
1. "You are going to meet Mr. Right on the missions field! Yes you are!"
We go on the missions field to serve God and minister to others- NOT to find our future spouses! Would you write a check to commit a monthly gift to someone to support their eharmony subscription? No way! So why would we ask people to support our mission if our only mission is to find "the one?" The Church and our society send the constant message that singleness is a disease that we need to cure- even if the only cure is just settling for whoever will take us. This lie makes it hard to focus on anything but finding a husband or wife- and we do NOT need distractions as we go off to the missions field. Please, don't even joke around about this kind of thing with us; we need you to help us stay focused, not distract us.
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