How I learned about My Whiteness: Lessons from Living Overseas

Let me start by this: As a white person, I'm not totally sure how to approach this topic. As someone who was a missionary, I am all too aware of the "white savior complex" and desire desperately to avoid it. I am also aware how naive and honestly quite terrible I may look in some of these stories. Yet, I also know that I have a lot of white friends who haven't confronted and experienced race in a similar way as to what I have, and I want to speak to them. To tell stories and analyze how I'm learning and growing so as to help them learn and grow. And again forgive me for my overt use of my white privilege, but I think to really understand our issue at hand, that can not be swept under the rug either.

Just a little background, in case your friend shared this and you don't really know me. Until this year, I had spent the last 4 years of my life living in the Philippines. I am what you might call exceptionally white; fair skin, blue eyes, and light brown hair that for many years streaked itself blonde as it was exposed to a lot of sunlight. I can't achieve a tan if I wanted to, not even under the hot equator sun that left most of the Filipinos I lived among a mocha-y brown or darker. Sometimes my Pinoy friends would joke with me about what color coffee everyone's skin was, ranging from "hold the cream and sugar" to my laughable "only cream and sugar". I like to think that's because they think I'm so sweet rather than the color of my skin, but I digress.

I also taught at an international school, where most of the teachers were white, but most of our students were not. About 70% of my kids were Korean, with some Hispanics and some white Americans and Europeans in the mix.

During my first year teaching, I went on a trip with my school called Outdoor Education. For middle school, it's a mix of Christian summer camp meets mission trip. I was a leader of a group of girls and I noticed that one of my Korean students slowed the group down by putting on sunscreen too often. Although it was my role to make sure they reapplied sunscreen at appropriate levels during the day, her usage of sunscreen felt obsessive. And I found every opportunity I could to tell her that. This lead to a very real conversation that has been repeated to me several times since, "I'm trying to keep my skin light Miss Leneway. The lighter your skin is, the more beautiful you are." I've tried to tell my kids that's funny because in the culture I come from, people lie out in the sun for hours working on making themselves dark because browned skin is beautiful. I guess what I've failed to notice though is that what Americans really value is brown, but not too brown. And even now that makes me sad. The same way it made me sad every time I had those conversations with my kids, knowing full well their culture would never allow them to feel beautiful.

During this same time period, my white skin outside of the school had really become a nuisance. It's not that I was treated badly because of it. Quite the opposite. I had an essentially celebrity-like status and felt like I lived under a constant microscope because of it. People would openly gawk at me on the streets. Taxi drivers would constantly offer their hand in marriage. I remember one time, I went to a waterfall with some of my local friends to enjoy the day swimming and exploring. A group of us went up a path exploring towards the top of the waterfall. I got stopped along the way by someone who insisted I take a picture with them, not giving me another option. One of my friends noticed about 5 minutes later and came back for me (after they finally realized I had gotten pulled away from the group).When they saw the hold up, they laughed without end until I told them that this happened to me constantly and I was tired of it. I was tired of being paraded on stranger's Facebook profiles as white arm candy. I was tired of the constant limelight I got solely for the color of my skin. My friends were shocked to hear that this happened to me quite often and this wasn't just a weird incident.

And so I was torn. My white skin gave me a platform unlike any other, but for all the wrong reasons. I was sick and tired of being the object of attention, but also know that my behavior reflected the Christian missionary community at large (even if you weren't part of it, that's the assumption when you're white in the Philippines).

The best way we found to deal with it was to joke about it and at least get some advantages out of it, if my skin color was going to hang out and be so annoying all of the time. I got pulled over for making an illegal left-turn once. I was actually a dumb American at this point and for that reason alone, got away with just a warning. I unjustly took away the lesson then that I could probably use that logic during any part of my stay and they would never fact check me on it. Not that I ever used this to do more than jay walk and occasionally go a few kilometers over the speed limit (it's not like traffic allowed for more). We joked when we saw men staring about which one of us Greek goddesses they were staring at this time. We sometimes used our "whiteness" to our advantage, but when little girls said in the streets, "You're beautiful", we always stopped to tell them, "You are too". Sometimes I proudly add, I said this sloppily in Cebuano. After all, "gwapa" (beautiful/hot/handsome) and "puti" (white) were some of the first Cebnuano words I learned. Because I constantly heard people saying that around me or yelling that about me. However, as much as we wanted to break these cultural beauty perceptions, anything we could do felt futile as a dropping the contents of our water bottle in the large Pacific Ocean we lived on the coast of.

You get used to it eventually. And you accept that there are things you can't change. And you get tired of trying to do anything about it, because it will inevitably fail. Yet, I have one more story.

During my last year overseas, I took a vacation with two of my close Filipina friends and another white girl friend. On this vacay, we went to a waterfall/public pool place. At the gate of entrance, you had to pay to get in. When my other white girl friend and I passed through the gates, we were told a higher price than our friends had been. We questioned it, and they told us that it was the foreigner price. Our friends got the local price. Knowing it wasn't worth it to make a scene, and that we wouldn't get in without paying it, we forked over the money. As we kept walking, my Filipina friend who was right behind us, went into a loooooonnnnngggg rant in Cebuano at the lady. Although I had walked away, when she got to us she was noticeably shaking in anger at how we had been treated. We didn't get the extra pesoes we paid back, but I won't forget how someone stood up for me that day. How someone of a different skin color didn't ignore injustice I faced when she herself didn't (although mind you it was tiny injustice in comparison to what people of other skin colors face). That I had an ally who was part of the system that often made me feel so different.

I come from middle class, white America and I know many of my readers do too. Maybe you haven't ever had to think about what it means to be a white American, what unique privileges you have that many other Americans don't. Maybe you think it's okay to be "colorblind" and say "all lives matter", because you haven't ever known what it is to be on the part of the race that is seen as different by the culture you're in. That is discriminated against and treated differently solely based on the color of your skin. And it's okay that you haven't experienced the world of being the "other". The last thing we need is to feel guilty about that and just end up consoling each other over white guilt. I am tempted to face this even as I write this, knowing that I will never understand what real oppression is due to my race.

But I do want to be more like my friend. Because I know what a big difference it made in my heart to see someone fight for me, even though the struggle was not their own. I think that it's important in the face of the innocent death of George Floyd and the resulting protests around the country to realize this problem won't be fought and won until it's fought by all of us. Injustice is wrong, even when it doesn't affect you. So speak up. March. Protest.

But most importantly, don't just let this be a moment in time. If you see someone being treated unfairly in the future, stand up for them. Speak on their behalf. Because I can only imagine they're tired of fighting alone in a system that feels like it resists change with its very heart. And I use those words carefully because ultimately, that's where racism lies. Deep down in the crevices of our hearts that we barely acknowledge ourselves, let alone hope others see. It's time to look within at our own stories about how we've come to experience the color of our skin. It's time for both self-awareness and also awareness of others that it's all too easy to turn our heads to  and ignore. And as we examine these stories, it's time to look for ways to change the narrative.




*I'm considering writing my next blog about how to learn about people in different cultures, which I believe is integral to all of this. So stay tuned for that.   
**Also I know that I'm not perfect and I have work of my own to do on this. But hey, the important thing is that we're taking steps in this journey.

We're not living under Martial Law...Trust me I have

Day 586 of quarantine...or so it feels. In the time of COVID-19, we're longing to go back to normal. A time when we can once again gather in groups, dine in our favorite restaurants, cheer for our favorite sports teams, and visit with grandma and grandpa in their homes. In the state I live in, Michigan, the shut down has been fairly strict compared to anything the average American has lived through. Although restrictions have lifted slightly, Governor Whitmer recently extended the State of Emergency yesterday. This was meet with gun-toting protesters. The pictures of this saddened my heart to an extent I can't express.

Michiganders are split on two sides of a fence, one that welcomes the Stay-At-Home order as a necessary step to protect the community, and the other that sees it as a threat to the freedoms that Americans hold oh so dear. There have been protests. There have been pleas from both sides of the issue to think reasonably and rationally. There have even been comments saying this was like the gateway to martial law. Well, I've lived under martial law and I figured this was a great opportunity to share what that experience was like for me.

If you haven't followed my story, until this year, I had spent the last 4 years living in the Philippines on an island called Mindanao. About three out of those four years I lived under martial law. Not a fact that you share with people back home when you don't want them to worry and/or you want them to let you stay. So many of you might not have realized I even lived under martial law. Well let me explain the circumstances leading up to this before I explain what it was like (as one of the rare Americans who have actually lived under such circumstances).

Quick geography lesson: Mindanao is almost 40,000 sq. miles, or roughly the same size as the lower peninsula of Michigan. I lived in a  city called Davao in the south. It is the major city of the island, and the fourth most populated city in the whole Philippines. It is the home of the current president, President Rodrigo Duterte, the only president who has come from anywhere besides Manila essentially. President Duterte was elected into office during my first year there and remains current president. The island, Mindanao, has a long history of violence between the Muslim and non-Muslims in the north and west portions of the island.

Map of Mindanao for reference

In the fall of 2016, a night market called Roxas street was bombed. Roxas was a popular nightlife destination and a place I had been several times, drinking mango smoothies with friends while riffling through fake knock-off clothes. A couple of friends had been there on the night of the bombing just an hour before the bomb went off. While I remained safely tucked in my bed this night, this was only a mile and a half from my house. I discovered this in the morning when I woke up to Facebook asking me to check in that I was safe. I remember scrolling through the news on my phone that morning trying to quickly piece together what was happening. Looking back on Facebook to see that other friends had checked in as safe as well.

I was an assistant coach to the volleyball team during this season and our game was cancelled that morning due to safety concerns of letting visitors on campus. Living just around the corner though, I decided to mosey on over though to see that all players had gotten the message and then head over my classroom to busy myself with some work. There was one player there, my ferocious senior outside hitter. As we talked about what happened, she was nothing more than a scared child that morning. And so was I.

Threats loomed in the city for a week or so after. My friends and I avoided all malls (the center of all activities in the city) and crowded areas. Thankfully no other violence took place and eventually life settled back in to normal. A state of emergency was declared and checkpoints were set up to search vehicles coming into the city. The Islamic extremist group Abu Sayaaf took responsibility for the bomb as an affront to their displeasure with President Duterte, although later it was discovered that it was really a sympathetic group.

Things got quiet for a while and besides the checkpoints, life went back to normal. But the violence on Mindanao was not done.

Tensions between Abu Sayaaf and the administration continued. In May 2017, Abu Sayaaf took the entire city of Marawi hostage. Marawi is near Iligan if you look back at my map, about 8 hours northwest of Davao. This is like saying it happened in Traverse City and I lived in Detroit. The first thing they took was a hospital, but they eventually infiltrated the whole city killing when they saw fit and taking many more hostages. The army would come in to try and liberate the city. This conflict would last 5 months. I can't even imagine what it was like to be those people trapped in the city fearing for there lives. It was shortly after this event started that martial law was declared on Mindanao.

This declaration of martial law was met with a similar feelings as Michigan's stay at home order is. There were a lot of critics, but also many who welcomed it. What was interesting was it was not Mindanao where it was opposed. It was in the other parts of the Philippines. The parts that were already safe. Where martial law didn't really affect them, besides the precedent they were afraid it would set. I see the same thing here in Michigan. It is not the front-line health care workers or essential workers that are striking. They know better. They see the tragedy playing out right before them and wish it on none of us. My best friend works at a hospital. She currently spends most of her shifts in the morgue. It is also not the elderly and those with autoimmune diseases.  The people in real danger are not speaking up against this Stay-at-Home order. But similar to Mindanao, the people in real danger mostly welcomed it.

Martial law actually didn't change much in my life. We did have to cancel any trips out of the city. This included us as a school scraping our plans for our Outdoor Education trip, an annual outreach trip that was often a highlight of the school year. We pulled together something in the city in the 2 weeks of planning we had, but it was pretty terrible compared to the experience of getting away. Also any weekend getaways, which were always fantastic as Mindanao has a wealth of nature to explore, had to be postponed for quite a while. Checkpoints were increased and seeing armed military guards became the normal. But it was not the brutal martial law of the past. It was not a government overreach seeking to control and terrorize its people. Instead it felt like an act of compassion from our President, showing that he stood with us and was going to protect us at whatever cost. While I don't agree with everything President Duterte has done, I do appreciate this act of support he gave us.

I've heard Michigan's Stay at Home order compared to martial law, and I just want to say "Don't". While you are asked to stay at home, you face no real consequences for your disobedience. Military is not lining the streets nor are officers sending you home when they see you out. This is not martial law.

Well I tell this story, there's so much I want Michigan to hear. I want them to know that while this is devastating on the economy (and so was martial law), sometimes saving lives is more important. I want you to know that while staying at home sucks, the people in real danger (like me) are grateful for it. Although I am lucky to have a job where I can work from home for the rest of the school year at least, I can't even imagine if Michigan reopening meant me going back to work right now. And having that hard choice of going to work and into danger every day or staying at home while my job which I love was forced to replace me as they go on with normal.

In America, freedom is a core value. And I get that that is important. But I think that people's lives are pretty important too. And I'm willing to let go of my right to do whatever I want to value life first. I'll pray the government makes wise choices in this impossible situation. But ultimately, I need to give a show of trust in them believing that they are not seeking to harm us until they prove otherwise. And I'd like to invite you to as well.



Disclaimer: I'm not looking to start any arguments here. I just wanted to share a different experience that I have that might give a different perspective on what is going on right now. I also want to outright state my bias in this situation: I am the vulnerable that we're seeking to protect. Earlier this year, I was diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder after spending much of the year in the hospital and am currently on immune suppressants. I also am lucky enough to have a job that allows me to work from home. My heart goes out to those of you that aren't so lucky.

COVID-19 as a Tool to Reevaluate our Use of Time (From someone who's spent the last 6 months self-quarantined)

As I write this, it's day 5 since the Governor of Michigan declared all schools would be closed and social isolation began to slow the spread of COVID-19. Over the last few days, how serious this time of quarantine is to be has greatly escalated. Restaurants have moved to carry out only and most businesses that are service-orientated have shut down. We've been instructed to not meet in groups of over 250, then 50, and as of most currently not over 10. And when we do meet, keep our social distance of 6 feet.

This isn't just the case for Michigan though, but this is happening all over the world. I video chatted with my old roommate from Davao City (in the Philippines) and she said that the city was in lockdown mode. People were instructed not to leave their houses except for the grocery store and certain essential personal for work. So we, as a world, are all in this together.

As many are now saying, we live in unprecedented times. What does one do without the busyness of work and the normal schedule of activities? When the structure that we built our life around just disappears? For me, this actually isn't unprecedented but has been a big part of this last year. I just got back to work after a 4 month long sick leave where my life shut down before and I was living in my own sense of quarantine and social isolation. And I don't think I did it well before (I mostly watched a ton of Netflix), so I've been spending a lot of time over the last few days thinking about how I want to do this now during the second time around.

Now the first question on everyone's mind is what to do with all this time you suddenly gained? Well, let me share with you pieces of my Quarantine To-Do List. I'm going to finally decorate my apartment (it's really been a crazy year). So do that project you've been putting off. I'm going to read a book. I'm actually about halfway through my first book already, it's been so refreshing to read. I plan on learning more about online teaching tools to help prepare for the rest of the school year (my district is currently just off for the next three weeks, but I have a feeling we'll move to online as I think the quarantine will last longer). I'm going to finally set up a budget for living in America (I think I've finally stopped thinking in pesos so now is the time to do that).

In addition, at my church that met virtually this Sunday, we were left with this challenge of how we could be intentional about connecting with others during this time of social isolation. We're made to live in community and with technology, social isolation doesn't need to be a time of total isolation. One thing I'm doing is setting up a virtual game night with friends who live far away and we normally don't get to spend time together. If you're interested in how we're doing that we'll play Codenames sharing a board on our screens and video chat at the same time. I'm actually super excited for this. I'm also super open for Skype dates (okay, more Facebook messenger video) and have taken time to schedule those with dear friends that it's usually hard to get our schedules to line up. I've also found ways to share my expertise of teaching and help others who, all of a sudden, have their kids at home and have to play a big role in their education. So it's good to think about how you're being intentional to connect with and love on others during this time. In the face of hard times, how are we promoting love and hope, and maybe even cherishing this time as a gift?

I'm also considering how I can use this time to intentionally grow my relationship with God. If my excuse for not is normally a lack of time, well, I don't really have that excuse anymore. And neither do you. I already had decided for Lent that I was going to read the story of Jesus in Gethsemane as a way to just meditate on it. Now I'm considering memorizing it. It seems fitting after all to consider Jesus's attitude and way of preparing as he faced what would be his most trying hour. I'm pulling out my uke and spending a little time each day in worship. I don't know about you, but music tends to re-orientate my heart and remind me of what's important. In particular, I've decided the classic "Give me Jesus" would be an anthem that I give special attention to during this time. I want to sing them until the words ring true in my life "You can have all this world, just give me Jesus" since it seems like my whole world was just rapidly taken away and I want to take the posture of being okay with that. Of realizing I already have what's most important. I also, as of today, decided that I'd start listening to a podcast that the Bible Project put out about the Sabbath. It's about 14 one hour long episodes and can be found on Spotify. The Sabbath has been a theme that keeps coming up in my life as something I should probably see as important since partway through college and I think this is the perfect time to dig into that.

Now this is the point I was going to rant some on how this time of forced slow down and rest should lead us to evaluate how we can incorporate the idea of rhythm and rest better into our daily lives. How we can honor the very biblical idea of Sabbath in that way. But then I said, "Dang it Kacie, we're in the middle of a global pandemic! Your reader doesn't need to be chastised with a lengthy rant on how we all do a terrible job keeping the Sabbath."

So I guess I just want to give this questions to ponder instead:
1. During this time of slow down, what's been nice about how you're able to spend your time? Did you finally get time to read books, spend with your family, go for walks, etc.? How can you make time for more things like that in your every day life?
2. What do you really miss about meeting with others? How can you give special importance to those things after this time of quarantine is over?
3. Are there things you don't miss doing? This is me giving you permission to give those things up after this is over too. (Unless it's your job. You should probably keep that.)
4. How do you want a spirit of intentionality to carry over from this time of forced shut down into your normal every day life? What things are you becoming intentional about doing during this time and what does that look like when social distancing ends?

I think if anything this time reflects for many of us a time of Sabbath, a time to slow down, to rest, to see that life goes on without us working tirelessly to make it. Let's use that time wisely to reconnect with ourselves, with others, and with God.

In Sickness and In Health: Lessons about God through Sickness

For those of you that don't know, I've been fairly sick for the past few months. More specifically, it all started about a year ago when I got sick which led to an appendectomy done in the Philippines. Perhaps the most fun story of that experience was the surgeon brought out my appendix to show my friends, even offering to let them keep it. Anyway, we're almost a year later and I've had 5 hospital stays resulting in close to 50 days in the hospital during my 27th year of life. I've had infection after infection and been diagnosed with Chron's disease as the underlying villain of our story. 

I started a new job in September only to leave abruptly at the start of October for a hospital stay. I haven't yet been able to return to this job. 

So what have I learned in all this? What is God teaching me? 

Well, I'll be honest that hasn't been the forefront of my thoughts the past few months as I've been ill. I've been more Netflix and naps than prayer and reflection. But now that I'm starting to feel better, I've started to think and reflect on what God might be at work teaching me. 

Lesson #1:Trust the Heart

My home nurse was talking to me one day and asking me about if I was feeling depressed or hopeless. Thankfully the answer is no. I can't say I haven't been angry with God from time to time. Or that I haven't felt like maybe the situation just wasn't going to improve and I'd have to accept that this was my lot in life. Or that I felt like going through this right after coming home from serving as a missionary was unfair (ok, super unfair...after all God, did you see what I did for you?....*cough, cough* working on pride *cough cough*). But I never felt hopeless and depressed in the general sense. I still had a general sense of contentment and still for the most part held my joy. And the home nurse said that was super impressive considering most people would be struggling with their mental health after all that I've been through. 

So why wasn't I? I've seen God use the worst storms of my life for His glory. He's used every bad circumstance and redeemed it. He indeed makes beautiful things out of the dust. So I trust He can do it again. Because He has been faithful. And He will be faithful again. Because that's who He is. That's what He does. 

A song that I've been holding onto during this time is the song "Weep with Me" by Rend Collective Experience. I highly recommend you look it up. Anyways a line that has been especially dear to me is "What's true in the light is true in the dark/You're good and you're kind and you care for this heart". God's heart doesn't change and He has been so very good to me in life. His character is my hope. This trial will end and until it does I can sit with the most loving person I can dream of and remember that He does indeed care for my heart. 

Lesson #2: Desperation

It was November and I was back in the hospital again. I had returned to the ER after only being out of the hospital for a month. A surgeon was discussing potential options with me. One of the more drastic options was an ileostomy. This is where they divert your small intestines by pulling a piece out of your stomach wall. This allows your poop to divert from going through the rest of your intestines, allowing them to rest and heal. But the poop does need to go somewhere so you wear a bag on the front of your body that collects it. Exit medical tangent left. 

As we discussed this potential poop bag of an option, the surgeon said, "Take some time and think about it. I know it's not an attractive option, but it might help." And I replied, "Sir, if it will make me feel better please do it. No thought required. I'm desperate." And I really was. No matter how crappy the option was (pun intended), if it would make me better I wanted it. 

I've recently related this to my spiritual life. Why do I not bring the same sense of desperation? Sin is a disease, yet I don't bring the same "by any means necessary" mentality to bring about it's eradication. Why do I not bring the same desperation to growing to be more like Jesus, to growing more in the fruit of the spirit? It takes long-suffering (aka pain and/or annoyance) to grow in patience after all. My faith life at times can be meager at best but yet I don't bring the same desperation to fix it. And considering how important it is, I should be even more so longing to cure this sickness in my heart than I am to cure the sickness in my body. I pray that God would grow this desperation in me. 

Lesson #3: My strength may fail

For the proud at heart, 'nuff said. This has been humbling me and making me ask for help of others. Making me realize I need to rely on God's strength because I'm finally at the point I can't get by on my own. I think once I asked God to knock down my pride a notch. This was in no way how I intended God to answer that prayer. 

Lesson #4: Oceans

Speaking of prayers, the song "Oceans (Where feet may fail)" by Hillsong United came on my Spotify the other day. When I was preparing to be a missionary this song was so dear to my heart as a prayer to me. I heard it the other day through fresh ears. 

So let me quick walk you through the bridge, the words that repeat and managed to hit me a little bit deeper each time.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

This prayer can't be limited to foreign countries. But to truly have a trust without borders, I have to accept that may even lead me into sickness. Into times of hurt that are completely crumby. And if I can't accept that, I haven't reached the place where my trust is without borders. 

 

Let me walk upon the waters wherever you would call me

Wherever. Again, even here. True story, when Peter went to walk upon the waters a storm raged. Jesus didn't even calm the storm before calling Peter out of the boat. Nor did he calm it after Peter panicked and started to sink. It wasn't until after Jesus got in the boat that he let the storm calm. In fact, laughably, when he first sees the disciples terrified in the boat, he does nothing to calm it. He just says "Don't be afraid". And yet, he could have at any of these points lessened their fear by calming that stupid storm. Perhaps though he knows that a greater trust is born during the storm.

What I find most interesting about this story though is that the reason the disciples were in the storm though is because Jesus sent them in the boat to the other side. Jesus sent them on the lake knowing full well that by doing so, he was sending them straight into a storm. And I need to trust that in my life, this sickness is a place Jesus has called me to grow that greater trust. It is not by accident I am in this circumstance. 

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

What a stinkin' dangerous prayer I prayed. This for sure is deeper than my feet would voluntarily wander. Thereby, deeper than they could ever wander on their own. 

And my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior

This is the goal then, isn't it? That in all of this my faith would be stronger. Because whether I see it or not now, my Savior is here. He sits with me in my sickness. He strengthens me and stretches my faith in this whole process in a way that He never could in my wellness. 

I now can't believe I sung along to this song and prayed such dangerous prayers. 

Lesson #5: I am loved

Not just by God, but my support system here and across the globe runs deep. This trial has reminded me of your love for me as my dear friends and family as so many have reached out to check in or tell me they're praying. This has been so important as I have moved back and away from my super awesome network of support I've relied on in the Philippines for the past four years. I moved back feeling afraid of being alone and isolated, but throughout this I feel so connected and loved. 

In Sum...

I say that I learned all these lessons, but I know that these are the lessons God is working on currently with me. My head is starting to get it, but they are now ,and will continue to be, working their way deeper into my heart. 

Pray for me. Not just for my health, but my heart. That God would be ingraining these lessons deeper and deeper into my being. Pray also for my platform. This trial has been visible to others in ways that most trials are not and I think that puts it in amazing position for God to use it. Pray that this would be a stage for me to speak of God's goodness and that my attitude amidst the mess would point others to Him. 

Home for the Holidays?

For the first time in 3 years, it's Christmas eve and I'm sitting at my parents house waiting to begin an eventful day of festivity (never mind that it's 6am and I've already been up for 3 hours, silly jet lag). For the last 3 years, I've celebrated Christmas from where I live afar at my house in the Philippines. It's only this year as my family is in the middle of big changes that I felt like I couldn't miss did I bite the bullet and buy a plane ticket.

One of those changes is my new little niece aka the super cute munchkin friend shown below:

This year my grandma also died and I felt like the combination of these things meant I really needed to come and be with my family.

It's been really nice to come back to traditions and familiarity. Now mind you, I've enjoyed learning about Christmas in my host country and been very thankful for the friends who have taken me in over holidays, but there's nothing like what you grew up with. Whilst away, my heart longed to bake cookies with mom and watch Rudolph while drinking hot chocolate and snuggling on the couch with my fam. And from the time of absence, this is all the more sweet this year.

In many ways, this cozy house in Michigan where my family has lived for the past 30 years (at least I think that's how long it is now) is home. It's where I've made all of these memories, it's the place that is continuously filled with family and love, etc etc. However, I've also been realizing over these last few days especially that it's changing rapidly without me there. Some of the changes have really startled me this holiday season as I am looking to steep myself into the traditions I remember and everyone else has seemed to realize the necessary changes before I was hit with the surprise of it all (like my one year old niece gets to put some of my favorite ornaments on our tree....what gives mom???). But for real, home is a rapidly changing thing and you don't realize that until you've stepped away for a while and then re-enter that picture after some time. It's easier to see growth and change when you're not growing and changing with it.

But that's not to say that my parent's house still doesn't feel like home....because it very much does.

But over the last few days, I've been very reminded that that is not my only home.

Back in Davao, where I live, tragedy has been striking over the last few days.

One of the locations around the city where people who have been temporarily displaced from their homes due to flooding are staying

Tropical storm Vinta has hit, leaving the city fairly flooded (for those that will ask, my house is okay because we live on a very high hill).

A number of people climbing on a jeepney waiting for help

If that weren't enough, a fire also broke out burning down a 4 story mall, trapping 37 inside and killing them.

As I've followed these stories from afar, scrolling Facebook searching for signs and getting message updates from friends, my heart has been breaking for my city. As I paced the floor this morning, coping with my jet lagginess I found my heart and prayers flying out to that home of mine and the people who are there. The people that are struggling right now as I'm cozying in with my family. I've already seen pictures of my friends lending a hand in flood clean up and relief and a part of me thinks I really should be there. I wish I wasn't away from my city in its time of need. Yet I see the posts of how we are "Davao strong" and "Dabawenyos will rally back, because we are a people of resilience" and I know that's true. And I've also found myself nodding like "Yeah, that is us. We will be okay."

And as I look back at that last paragraph, this is starting to explain where my dilemma of "home" comes in. I feel for "my city" and I feel the unity of us being "Davao strong". As I sit at my Michigan house, wrapped in blankets, my heart tears for my Filipino home that is wrapped in tragedy. And when I'm there, my heart often misses the ones I hold dear here. Over the last few days, I've been reminded more than ever that "home" is really both places. Home is here, but it's also there. And as some people have asked me "Aren't you glad to be home for now instead of over there?", I am starting to feel slightly offended. I'm glad to be in Michigan, but I'm also glad to be there. And this "home" concept you speak of....it's both. 

Be keeping my city in your prayers as we continue to recover and rebuild.

And enjoy your holiday....I hope you find yourself at "home" wherever you might happen to be!

While America celebrates Halloween...

Over the last few days, my Facebook feed has been filled with pictures of my friends in Halloween costumes. Taking their kids trick or treating, workplace costume parties, and other general Halloween shenanigans are a common reason to dress up like something you're not, eat lots of candy and have fun. As I look at the photos, I've chuckled to myself at some of my friends' witty costumes and wondered what I would be if I were back in the States.

In the Philippines, Halloween isn't the holiday of October 31st. Instead it's All Soul's Day. It's not just a name change either, but a meaning change. How All Soul's Day is celebrated is people go to the graves of their loved ones and eat their favorite foods, hang out with family and essentially party all through the night. The belief is to honor those ancestors that have passed and to bless them with their favorite things since they are stuck there in the grave. So October 31st, the graveyards are filled. It's essentially one big party, complete with cotton candy vendors and children running around with glowsticks.

A few days before, I asked my Filipino friend if she would go to the graveyard for that day. She said, "No, I know their body may stay in the grave, but I their soul doesn't so what's the point?" My friend speaks from the hope of Christianity. The hope is that the grave is not the end for us, but all people have a final destination after: heaven or hell. As a Christian, we look forward to the hope of glory that is heaven someday.

While in American Christianity we look for the same hope, I think it's less pronounced when there's not that cultural thing for it to be so different from. We stand brightest and most clear when our culture gives us a reason to stand out and stand apart.

So I stand reminded that my soul has a home. It's not this body nor the grave. My family won't have to visit me one day after I'm six feet deep nor leave my favorite food for me. Because someday, I'll be in Heaven celebrating at the Great Wedding Feast, where I'm sure my favorite food will already be in abundance and the company will be out of this world.

Poodles and Pitbulls

Recently I feel like I've been in a rut. Not "ugh, life's terrible kind of rut", but a "wake up, go to school, come home, chill, fall asleep, repeat" kind of rut. Perhaps not even a rut in the life sense, but more in the spiritual sense. 

I think I realized I was in a rut about a week ago, but it's been going on for a month or so now. For me, a spiritual rut isn't even me staying away from prayer, God's word and church. I might not be feeling it, but I know better that. It's going through the motions without that fire lighting me up. On the surface, nothing is different, but on the inside everything is different. 

I think that the breeding ground for ruts is comfort. The more comfortable we are, the easier it is to just get caught up in the motions. Spiritually, my life is comfortable. I work at a Christian school, where everyone at the very least pretends to love Jesus. We go to chapel once a week and staff devotions twice a week. Most of my friends here are Christians. I know all the right things to do, all the right things to say, and yet.....in my comfort, I've found emptiness. 

There was a time when faith did not come so easily. When I really started pursuing Jesus, I was at my public university (right after my first summer working at a Christian summer camp). I didn't know any special Bible study techniques or even what most of the books of the Bible were really about. I didn't know how I felt about pre-trib, post-trib, young or old earth theory/didn't really know all of these high Christian theology things existed. It was at this time God was shaping who I was and who I would become.

During that time, there was no reason I had to study my Bible. I wasn't a missionary, I wasn't even primarily in a Christian circle, and no one told me what to do. (Or even if people did tell me what to do, I don't know that they would have told me to do that.) But at the same time, as I had watched God give life to others through this book over the summer at camp and saw how others searched it for their guidemap to life, I knew that I had to figure out what that book said. I knew I had to figure out how it applied to my life and why it should matter to me. For the next three years, I read and read. I would say studied, but at the time, I really don't know that I knew how to study anything. There was desperation there, because I knew that there was held life and life was what I needed above all. Since then I go through spells of being passionate and excited about the Word, but not as consistently as I once remembered. 

I think that part of what was exciting in that struggle was making meaning out of the Words that God had spoken to me. Looking back, I don't know I always walked away with the right meaning, but man, did I wrestle with God to find things there and over the things I found there. Now as my understanding has gotten larger, sometimes I feel like there's just nothing to wrestle over anymore. Which is highly not true, but a 0-40 change is much more noticeable than the 40-50. 

I think another thing that's changed is the people I have in my life. I used to have friends that really pushed each other to seek after the Lord together. People who I saw passionate about the things of the Lord and who challenged me to be so with both their words and deeds. Part of this was we just stood out so much from the watching world we were a part of. We really shone as the light and we ran with torches held high through the darkness, trying to share as much light as we could with those around us. 

My second summer at camp I remember talking to one of my friends about this. She had grown up her whole life in a Christian bubble, being home schooled and then going to a Christian university. In this conversation (which has stuck with me for a few years), I remembered comparing our experiences to poodles and pitbulls. So many of the people I had worked with seemed like poodles. It seemed like their whole faith was easy, they always had Christian influences pushing them the right direction, they didn't have a lot of worldly influences trying to drag them down. It was them sitting in Jesus' lap and that was about it. (I do know there is a lack of full truth to that statement now, but this is what I believed at the time.) For me at my public university, with influences daily trying to pull me the wrong way, with not really knowing how to follow Jesus but fighting desperately to learn, I felt like a pitbull. I would fight and fight to try to get to know Jesus more and try to help those around me to know Jesus but it was hard. I didn't have a lot of knowledge or tools at my disposal. But man, it felt good to be fighting hard for Jesus. 

Now, I think I'm becoming a pedicured little poodle. I'm cultured in Christian things and there's not a whole lot of fight left in me right now. As we worshiped in chapel this last week, I realized that and realized things need to change. Whether that's more boldly and courageously speaking for Christ at school (which totally is needed), or perhaps fleeing this too comfortable Christian bubble for the mean streets again, I don't know yet. But pray that I would again become a pitbull, fighting ferociously for my Jesus again. 

Also sorry if I offended anyone in this post. I know we all have our own struggles that we need to fight and faith really isn't easy for anyone. 

Single and Faithful

When I was in elementary school, I remember for a writing assignment in a class we had to talk about the "perfect age" to get married, have children, etc. I think my marriage age was 22 and baby age was 25. As I check my Facebook feed, I see daily (or it feels like daily) new engagement posts, wedding photos or birth announcements. Like seriously, am I the only person who hasn't settled down yet?

Culturally speaking, I'm at the age I need to start seriously looking for a man to start building a family with. I mean that's what everyone else my age is doing. However although that's something I would love, that's just not something that's in my cards right now. When I moved from the US, one of the hardest things to give up was all of the possibilities of what could have been there. Overseas, well things are just more complicated.

And it's hard sometimes to keep things in perspective now while I'm in the US because I get to see from those who are close to me how awesome having someone to love or having a baby can be. While that is awesome, I've been working hard to keep my perspective in the correct place. Single does not equal failure. Singleness is not something I need to desperately look to shed, but something I need to continue to look to be a blessing to myself and others until God does choose to grant me those desires of my heart. And until He gives that to me, I need to choose to trust that He intends to use my singleness.

Because of my singleness, I am able to give my students more of my time and go to their events or chill after school instead of doing my work and worrying about going home. Because of my singleness, I have more flexibility to connect with my friends and to make time for them any given day. Because of my singleness, I have more time and opportunity to get quiet before the Lord and really focus on how He wants to grow me. And it's not that I want to stay single forever, but I need to consider all of these ways in which God might want to use this time of singleness, which He sees not as wasted time but as precious time. Time that I could not go without as He looks to shape me into the person I'm still striving to become.

I guess one of the reasons I'm thinking about this right now particularly is because I have a good friend getting married tonight. I met her in 4th grade when she took me under her wing at a basketball clinic and she's been like an older sister ever since. I was hanging out with her a week or two ago and she was talking passionately about how she just wants to make sure God is getting all the glory at the wedding tonight. Since talking to her about that, I couldn't help but to think she had the same mind frame throughout her singleness. Being a single adult was hard for her as well at times, but she really looked to use that time to serve others and to grow as a person of God. I hope to also chose to use my time this wisely, seeing my current singleness not as a curse, but as a blessing. And when someday I'm not single again, I'll choose to see that not as God removing something adverse to give me a blessing but just a trade of blessing for blessing.

After all Jesus was single. Yet he was deeply loved, significant and completely secure. And so am I.

A Trip to a Buddhist Temple and What I Learned about the Fear of God that Day

Over Christmas break, I took a trip to Thailand to meet a friend in Bangkok. We started planning this trip shortly after my friend moved to Cambodia in October. Little did I know at the time how much I would need this trip as a break and something to look forward to so that I could finish a hard semester strong. We spent 4 days in Bangkok, wandering the city, exploring malls, markets, zoos, temples, palaces, etc. My two friends and I had a conversation one day about how blown away that this place combined the order and city-type design that we were used to in America, and elements from our new homes. I mean how could traffic include actual lanes yet include motorcycles pulling side cars like we often take on our not-so-orderly roads back in our host countries? How could there be street vendors selling this and that up and down the street yet there be a Coldstones? (If you're wondering, we most definitely stopped at Coldstones.) It's like America and the Philippines had a baby and it was Bangkok. It was mind-blowing.

Anyways one of the days left me awestruck by God and I promised myself I would blog about it. Ironically, I was awestruck by God the day we visited Buddhist temples. They were just so grand. The temples were adorned with precious jewels and were massive sizes. The combination of the enormous scale and the attention to detail was unreal. Outside of the temples were huge courtyards full of sculptures and monuments. Everything was extravagantly beautiful and breathtaking. You could tell how much work went into this huge shrines. I've included a few pictures here so you could get a taste.
 

And all of this.....for a god who is no god at all.

As we walked around adoring the architecture, I couldn't help but be a little indignant. A false god, Buddha, has been shown so much honor and respect. Looking at the fantastic structures that were built for him you can't help but feel that fact. Love and adoration went into that work. Holy fear inspired that work. And yet, here I am a worshipper of the God of the universe and I'm just so casual about it. The American culture I'm used to is just so casual about it. We build our churches to be home-y and non-intimidating so seekers will feel comfortable. We wear jeans to church and treat Jesus as our homeboy. (And I'm definitely not speaking about "others" on this. I'm pretty sure I've preached a whole sermon in jeans, a hoodie and my green Ninja turtle hat thrown on backwards.)

I'm not saying casual is bad. I'm definitely not saying we should pour all of our resources into building elaborately beautiful churches for ourselves. I think if we did we would be guilty of neglecting the issues Jesus always tells the Pharisees are weightier issues like looking out for the poor. Yet how do we show honor and respect and awe for our God? How do we inspire that awe in others? Somehow we've lost this fear of the Lord. And my friends, God is worthy of awe and holy fear.

And at the same time that I can't justify us building ridiculously extravagant buildings like these temples for our God, I also feel like I can't not justify it. God helped Solomon build a temple as beautiful as these with a blueprint from heaven. It was the glory of the kingdom of Israel, a symbol of their God with them. It was destroyed as the people strayed from God. Jesus came and declared that we no longer need a temple for God to dwell in, but we ourselves are that temple that God dwells in now. (And I don't know about you, but I don't always treat my temple with that kind of honor.) Yet as the book of Revelation describes the new Jerusalem (heaven) it seems exceedingly more extravagant than the temple.

The wall was made of jasper, and the city of pure gold, as pure as glass. The foundations of the city walls were decorated with every kind of precious stone. The first foundation was jasper, the second sapphire, the third agate, the fourth emerald,  the fifth onyx, the sixth ruby, the seventh chrysolite, the eighth beryl, the ninth topaz, the tenth turquoise, the eleventh jacinth, and the twelfth amethyst. The twelve gates were twelve pearls, each gate made of a single pearl. The great street of the city was of gold, as pure as transparent glass.

(Revelation 21:18-21)

As much as it seems like God has moved away from the extravagant and focused more on the relationship, I can't help think that this description in Revelation reminds us that He is always worthy of the extravagant. 

I write all of this to say I don't really know what to do with this. I know my heart wants to make extravagant gestures of love towards God, to do something or create something that truly brings others to be in awe of the Lord, but practically I have no idea what that looks like. I have no idea what that even should look like. I would love to hear thoughts on this though. I would love to also hear how any of you maintain a close Father-child relationship with the Father but don't lose the honor and the awe part of your relationship with Him in the process. 

Our God is so complex, it's hard for me to always understand Him and how to properly give Him the worship He's due. But alas, that's part of what makes Him so wonderful. 

My Last Semester....to the tune of O Holy Night

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. This semester we were really short staffed at the school, so I've been feeling the consequences of being overworked. Due to this, my communication back home has suffered. My sincerest apologies. To make up for my lack of blogging, I've decided to do this one in a more creative way than my usual posts. So here is my semester....as told by the classic Christmas carol "O Holy Night".

"Oh holy night! The stars are brightly shining. It is the night of our dear Savior's birth"
Jesus wasn't literally born this semester. But typical to the traditional Christmas story, he has shown up amidst the most unlikely circumstances. See back in the day, this happened in Bethlehem. Bethlehem is literally described as "too little to be among the clans of Judah" (Micah 5:2). Although it was the place of the prophecy, it was a place that was unlikely for God to choose to be born. It was a place of little importance. And when Jesus was born, it was announced to some unlikely characters. Being a shepherd wasn't a glamorous job or one of much importance. The magis from the East weren't even part of God's chosen people but lived in a pagan land.  They were not the people we might have suspected that the birth of a Savior would be announced to. But God typically doesn't show up in the ways or places we would expect.

This truth was very true in my semester. There were moments I really thought God would show up like in Bible class where He did last year. He didn't always show up there in the ways I wanted Him to. Where He did show up was the places I wasn't looking though, the places that I ruled Him as out for the count. And it was always the places where I needed that birth of hope, the birth that only a Savior could provide.

"Long lay the world in sin and error pining" 
As a result of my overworked-ness this semester, I went through a really rough time of complete and utter burnout. When I wasn't at work I couldn't help but think about work and I began to feel guilty doing other things, because I was so overwhelmed with what I had to do. My hope of that ever getting better dissipated. I looked for nothing more than mere day to day survival. As this was happening, it also became harder to keep my emotions in check. My relationships with my roommates got rocky because I was so cranky all the time. I would sometimes get short tempered with my students. It was often in those interactions I had where I lost it with my students that I really was reminded of how sinful I can be. How angry. How merciless. How in need of Someone to change me because this was not something I could overcome on my own. It was because of the awareness of sin that I really felt this semester, that I really started to feel that distance from Jesus that I had never meant to get there but somehow crept in. And in that my soul started pining for that restoration to the relationship we once had, and started pining for the change that only He could produce in me.

"Til He appeared and the soul felt it's worth"
In the middle of this, somehow I forgot my soul's worth. I became obsessed with being the best tool I could be for God and forgot that He loves and sees value in me as a person.

Now the turning point in my semester came about a month ago. I got in a fight with my roommate. After walking away until I could collect my emotions and think a little more logically, I came and sat down at our kitchen table with both my roommates. We talked for a few hours about how I had been doing and what we could do to help me. It was also this week that I also first shared with my Bible study group how I'd been doing and asked for their prayers. It was after these events that I all of a sudden started feeling better. Months of hopelessness was flushed away and I felt happy for the first time in a long time. I believe this was God moving in response to the prayers of my roommates and Bible study friends. My situation didn't change so there is no other explanation.

As Jesus showed up, I began to remember how much God valued me as a person. Not for what I could do for Him, but because He loved me. That meant I had to really take care of that person and start living more as a child of God than a slave for Him. My soul really started to feel its worth again.

"A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn."
As much as this semester has made me worn out and weary, I can't help but to fill that excitement of hope again. Although it felt like I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, if you will, I realized that even there Jesus can show up. And his presence makes a difference. It is the light that chases away the shadow of death, that restores the weary world and gives hope. I'm excited for this new chapter of this school year that has been unlocked by His presence and hope. I'm excited to see what He does and how He works.

"Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices, 'O night, o night divine, o night that Christ was born"
Looking at what God has done this semester, how he has unlocked hope in my life and restored my soul, I can't help but falling on my knees to worship. It truly is a gift divine that Jesus would come to the world and unlock hope for us all. This Christmas, that's what I'm grateful for. The hope that only Jesus can bring.

The Grace to Grow Up

It's now my second year of teaching. I'm basically a professional. Many of my students I've had in class before. With my Geometry class especially, it's been awesome because I already know what they know mathematically so we've been able to pick up where we left off.

But one thing I've noticed since returning is this: my kids are growing up. My once awkward and shy freshman are now obnoxiously confident sophomores. My once obnoxiously confident 8th graders are now awkward and nervous little freshman. My old sophomores are transforming into leaders as they join the ranks of the upperclassmen. It's cool to watch this process.

In so many ways, high school is a hugely important time of life as far as development. It's the time of life when students really start to break away from what parents and adults say and start to form their own beliefs about things. It's a time when they discover what they think about things and begin to think about who they want to be. I feel like in many of my students' lives, I am getting a front row seat to that this year whether they realize what's going on or not.

And realistically this process doesn't end in high school. No, it's a long painful drawn-out process that we continue to undergo in our early adulthood. I may be graduated from school and working a real "grown-up" job now, but I am still in this process. And one of the big things with this process is you mostly learn by making a whole bunch of mistakes. At least, that's how I do most of my learning. Yes, I realize this is the third time I forgot to bring that electricity bill along to pay. Right, I understand I shouldn't have given the students that much trust and independence. Etc, etc, etc. Although I am somewhat successfully "adulting", I still make a lot of mistakes. I'm in many ways young and naive. Just like my students are.

I've recently looked around and realized that most of my friends are older than me too. Like 4 or more years at least. And while they maybe don't have it all figured out, they at least have things way more figured out than I do. Now they definitely don't lord that over me, but instead they give me grace. They patiently let me make my mistakes and learn and grow. They give suggestions and support, but ultimately still let me make my choice even if its not always the best one.

I recently have realized how grateful I am for the gentleness, grace and patience they give me. Because I realize as I deal with my students in their growing pains learning experiences, its not always easy to give. Sometimes I just wish they would already be at my level of maturity and it wouldn't be this long drawn out process. But I'm praying this year I would have that gentleness, grace and patience with them to lovingly guide and support them without trying to prevent them from making mistakes by me controlling the situation. We owe it to each other as we grow up to show that kind of love and patience with each other.

One of the biggest reasons we owe this to each other is because this is how the Lord deals with us. He knows that as our faith starts, we don't know much and we make mistakes. But He lovingly guides us to "mature" over time. It's not that we will stop making mistakes, but God has given us the grace to get back up, shake off the dust and keep going for each time we fall down. And today I'm thankful for that because that's exactly what I need. Let us thank God for the grace He gives us in growing up and let us give that grace to each other more fully.

A Better Reward

I'm currently in a 90 day Bible reading challenge with my roommate and some girls she goes to Bible study with. It's been a lot of reading each day but it is cool to read the Bible this fast to see major themes that you otherwise miss. It's been giving me a lot bigger picture look at events and how they fit in the puzzle. 

Today I just finished reading about all the battles in the book of Joshua. In short the story goes: there were 12 tribes in Israel. God leads them out through a guy named Moses. Moses is to lead them into the promised land, which would be super duper awesome. Moses sends spies into this promised land, and although they see how super duper awesome it is, they say 'It might be great, but we could never overtake those people'. Two spies say 'No, with God on our side we can.' (The names of these spies are Caleb and Joshua.) God decides since that generation doesn't have faith that they'll take a walk in the desert for the next 40 years until all but Caleb and Joshua drop dead. Moses dies, Joshua takes over as leader. Joshua then leads the people into the promised land and by the Lord's command in every town they defeat, they burn it to the ground. Nothing is to remain. 

Now I'm not a military specialist, but this seems like an over the top plan to me. Sure, maybe it would be great to not leave any of our enemies living. Then they can't attack us. That makes sense. But burn the entire town to the ground? Isn't this excessive? Those were perfectly good towns Lord! But with every town they burned to the ground, never to be rebuilt again, they were displaying a trust in the Lord. A trust that says "I know that what I see is good, but I know in this act of obedience You will bless me with what is better." The Israelites had to trust that the Lord would provide them with better cities before they chose to burn down the cities they captured of their enemies. We often have to make a similar choice.

This choice might have to do with sin in our lives. James 1:14-15 says "But each one is tempted when by his own evil desires he is lured away and enticed. Then after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin when it is fully grown, gives birth to death."  Sin is appealing. It is something we desire. But sin leads to a separation with a Holy God. And He gave us the Law through Moses to show us what holiness is so we can live in better relationship with this Holy God by following the Law. We ultimately couldn't do that so Jesus was sent to cure that eternal separation problem. Yet sin still separates us from the Lord today. Now what God tells us to do with sin is no different than what He told Joshua to do with those enemy towns: "Destroy everything. I don't want any traces left of what will separate me and you." And we, as believers, need to trust that God is better and His plan for us is better than that sin in our lives for us to overcome it.

This similar choice also might have to do with good things in our lives. Yes, God is the giver of good gifts. But He also calls anyone who wants to be a Christian to "deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me." We're called into a life of denial. I often hear among the LGBT community in particular, "If I was made with these desires, how can it be wrong?" or "Isn't love a good thing?" But the thing is that it's not just them (although Christians often like to target them), but we all have desires that we are called to deny. I serve as a missionary. Recently I've been thinking about whether that will be a long-term position for me or not. As I think about that it's hard not to think about the ways the Lord has called me to deny myself of good things. Like if I stay on the field long-term, I am most likely giving up a husband and consequently kids. Yes, I would love a family of my own some day, but know that the odds of getting that while working in another country is slim. And to stay here long term, that's a denial I'll need to be okay with. (Whether I am or not is another story that I haven't quite figured out yet.)  I also am denying myself a dependable income from a "real" job, even though that's a good thing. Denial of good things is sometimes necessary to be closer to the Great Thing (that is God). Don't assume that just because something is good that God wouldn't call you to give it up. 

Going into the subject of denial, I want to talk about a group that the Lord seemed to really deny as they went into the promised land. They were called the Levites. The Levites were the people set aside to be the priests of God. Something that Moses continually reminded the Levites before they entered was that they got no land to claim as their own. Instead as all of their brothers and fellow Israelites got land, the Lord just told them "You will have no inheritance in their land, nor will you have any share among them; I am your share an your inheritance among the Israelites." (Numbers 18:20) And this phrase appears over and over. God's constantly reminding them, as people who serve Me, I will give you nothing but Me! I'm sure some of them probably felt ripped off. I mean how could God give them no land? What's the deal? But again they must trust that God is better than the land would be. 

Again as I think about the potential of life long-term in the mission field, being a missionary is much like being a Levite. I rely on a team of supporters; I don't have a way to support myself. I am not building for myself a home, because as a missionary I live pretty simply. And because as someone God has called away, you never know when the call to leave will be. With people coming and going all the time, there seems to be a lack of permanence no matter how long you're there. But in this Levite-like existence, it's somehow easier to see God. There's less distractions on my time and attention. He's more at work as I seek to actively serve Him. And I'm reminded of just how good it is to be with the Lord, closely communing with Him. But the choice is always: Is He better than....? 

The entirety of our lives is made up of choices. You made the choice to read this blog. You chose what to eat to day. You may not think you have much say, but you have some choice in where you live (even if its with your parents, you could have chose the park bench). And what God asks all of us is will you turn to Me in those choices? This will often look like giving things up, but will you decide I'm worth it? And I challenge you to ask yourself what the Lord might be calling you to give up to gain that better reward of His closeness. 

A Wall of Memories

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted last. Life has been very busy with school ending last week. Now that it's over though, my roommates and I have been doing some work around the house. One of the things we decided to do that we've talked about for a while is make a memory wall. It's a combination of pictures and quotes we've collected throughout the year. I've included a picture of the memory wall at the bottom if you want to see my roommate, Claire, and I's awesome home decorating skills. I've also included some of my favorite pictures from the wall here.

With everything we've done to decorate and clean up in the last few days, I think this wall is the most important thing. I think it's such an important thing because the act of remembering is an important one.

Moto ride to right before this guy's bike broke down lol

It's important for me to remember....that life here is filled with good things, fun things, and lots of adventure. You might be thinking, "Well how could you forget that? You went overseas!" And taking a trip overseas is all of those things all of the time (I imagine...I haven't really ever done the whole vacation thing in foreign countries). But living in another country often yields a different reality. For a period of about a month, we had power and water outages every day for several hours a day. That's not fun. Waiting in a line for extraordinary amounts of time at supermarkets isn't fun. Navigating another culture day in and day out can be exhausting. But for all of the times that it's hard, it's important to remember that being a missionary isn't this terrible life of suffering that the Lord has called us to. It's more often a life of blessing, a life of good times and awesome friends, and a life of adventure.

It's important to remember....that my work doesn't define me.  Let's be real. We all know teachers work crazy amounts of hours to make things awesome for their students. With lessons to be planned, papers to be graded, and messes to clean up, there's always something more you could do. And when I share with people why I moved over here, it is about my job. I moved here to serve my students and I get to do that through teaching. Even when I have breaks, it's often dedicated to the other part of my job: being a good missionary and updating supporters. Yet I am not just a missionary teacher. I exist instead the way every human does: to love and to be loved. My memories help remind me there's so much more to life than the everyday grind I often get stuck in seeing.

My 3 rocks this year :)

It's important to remember...that as crazy as my friends sometimes make me here, my life without them would drive me more crazy. One thing that's interesting about living overseas is the ex-patriot friends you have to choose from here are very limited. Not that local friends aren't great, I've made a number of those here too, but friends who I don't have to think about cultural expectations with because we have similar backgrounds can be really nice. I've got a pretty tight group of about 3 girls here and we often are reminded that we would never be friends in America where the selection pool is larger. Sometimes they do things like analyze the moral meaning of Tarzan as I'm trying to enjoy a simple childhood classic, or perform gymnastic maneuvers mid-conversations, or not come home from every shopping trip with an ice cream cone for me, and I think, "Man, these guys I'm stuck with are so weird." But it's important to remember that these guys are here when I need to cry things out, they're my exploring companions, and they make my life  a lot more fun. Because sometimes they do things like hammock over night on a beach with me, join random karaoke parties with strangers with me, do really bizarre things like ride escalators backwards when Filipinos are staring so they'll think all Americans do a certain weird thing, or buy me ice cream. It's important to remind myself in those hard moments of these good moments I have with them.

Brenna, the student teacher roomie and I

It's important to remember...that despite the revolving door of hellos and goodbyes that are constant in the overseas life, relationships are worth it. Tomorrow we're dropping of one of my group of 4 at the airport as she moves back to the States. And she's not the first friend who has flown out either for furlough (a year in which a missionary goes back to the States to support raise and rest), for the summer, or for good. And good byes are hard. Earlier this year, my roommate and I had a student teacher live with us for a few months and this student teacher and I became really close. When she left, at the end of some days I would go to her room to tell her something to see that it was empty. I'd want to do something we used to do together but have no one to do it with anymore. It's hard when you're the one staying behind as the people around you leave. And soon, I'll be going back to Michigan where I said some hard good byes a year ago. And for every hello I get to say there, it will always be accompanied by a goodbye. It's hard being the one who constantly leaves. But the answer to this can not be emotional distance and walls or you miss out on the fun memories, the friendships you need and the awesome people around you. Our memory wall reminds me these relationships are worth it as hard as the goodbyes have been or will be.

It's important to remember...that the America I go back to in a few short days will not be the America I remember...but I will also not be the Kacie it remembers and that's okay. Over the last few days, I've been thinking about habits that I've picked up over here that I'll need to be aware that people will look at me like I'm weird for when I go to America in a few short days. Like eating only with a fork and spoon. Like pointing with my whole hand and signaling people over with my hand facing down. Like calling toilet paper "tissue", bathrooms "CR"'s and never using the word napkin for the thing I wipe my face with at the dinner table (napkin refers to feminine hygiene products over here). And it's not just habits, but I've also been a student of the bigger things of culture. Like Filipinos value relationships, where Americans often value time and efficiency and often one has to be sacrificed for the other. Filipinos value the group, where Americans value individualism and uniqueness. And there are more. And it's important to remind myself that America really isn't that great (or that terrible), and the Philippines really isn't that great (or that terrible), but both cultures I live in have good and bad elements. And it's okay to appreciate both and to be a product of both, taking the best I know from each.

Our Memory Wall

This memory wall we erected today serves as a reminder for all of these things. And reminders are an important thing. In Old Testament times, when someone met with God they would often build an alter there as a reminder. God gave the people feasts and festivals to celebrate during the year as reminders of what He had done. After Moses got the Law, God told him to talk about the commandments constantly and to "write them on the door frame of your house and on your gates" (Deuteronomy 11:20). The Lord knows we need to set up for ourselves reminders of what He has done and of the blessings we have. When our soul wants to dwell on the bad, we can use these reminders to help us come back to the good. The Psalms are filled with echoes of these thoughts, "Look soul, I get things are tough and you want to be a whiney baby but remember what the Lord has done for you! Keep holding on to your hope and praise Him!" If pictures can serve as a reminder to me that I need to do that, I'll cover the house! What reminders have you set up in your life to remember your blessings and praise the Lord?

Driven by Vision

Currently I'm reading a book on leadership. By currently I mean like I put it down 15 minutes ago because what I was reading was driving me crazy. The chapter was on leaders being driven by vision, who then share that with their followers who are motivated and inspired to share in that vision. This chapter was driving me crazy because this used to be my life. Envisioning. Inspiring. Empowering. And this flame is something that needs to be re-lit in my new stage of life. Redefined. Rediscovered. Maybe writing will help. Maybe it won't.

Currently I reminisce though. I'm a leader in a college ministry. My vision is to make disciples of Christ who make disciples of Christ. My entire life revolves around this statement, which on one hand is so simple and on the other is so profound. Running small groups. Discipling up-and-coming leaders. Setting big picture visions and dreams into play with our leadership team and then delegating those dreams to people who would turn them into realities. Empowering and encouraging others in their God-given talents and helping direct them into how to use that for the Lord. This was my motivation, this was my entire waking and sleeping life, this was everything. Not once did it ever grow old or tiring. Not once did I ever say "I need a break from this". This my passion, my pursuit, my heartbeat. And I still get texts from those younger generations of leaders I mentored telling me about what they're now doing for the Lord. Clearly this was a work with dividends.

Now about a year later, I sit in another country. I teach as a missionary. I've given up my entire life for the Gospel, and yet.....it feels like I'm living less for the Gospel. That my impact is smaller. That my spiritual gifts haven't been as well-utilized as they once were. But I am confident of this: God did call me here. And I don't believe God ever calls us to a place of smaller impact, of less opportunity. I don't believe that God calls us to a place where we can only serve in limited ways that don't fit well with the way He designed. And I don't believe God calls us to a place where we'll be less passionate about what we are doing than what we were doing. The problem therefore must not be where I am. It must be my vision.

You can determine a person's vision by looking at their actions. If I envision myself to be an all-A student, I will spend more time studying. My vision drives me. If I envision myself to be an all-star basketball player, I will spend a lot of timing shooting hoops and working out. My vision is my motivator. When I was in college, I envisioned making disciples who made disciples. So I spent my time investing in others and their growth. Thinking about where I am now, I don't know that my actions are even focused enough to say I have a vision! I spend a lot of time planning lessons to help my students learn about their classes. And it makes my heart glad when a student says something like, "I like polynomials Miss Leneway. They're so cute!" (True quote.) But honestly, I can't picture my vision being as small as making people love math. When will that ever change the world? Likewise I coach basketball. When I see my girls looking for more opportunities to play now that the season is over that makes my heart glad. But my vision can't be as small as producing all-star basketball players. There is no profit in that. My vision needs to be so much bigger than these roles I am defined by.

Thus tonight I want to wrestle with my vision on this blog some, in hopes that by writing it out, it would become clearer to both you and myself what inspires me to do the work I do here. And by casting this vision, I'm praying that my energy would be refocused, rejuvenated and renewed to serve in a more effective way than I've been doing. A verse that has been inspiring me in this is Philippians 1:9-11: And this is my prayer:

that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight
Although we talk about love at first sight, we know that it's not typical to love someone when you first meet them. The truth is we learn to love people more as we get to know them more. The more we get to know someone, the more we begin to understand them. I know my best friend so well if you told me what she did, I could probably tell you why she did it. I could tell you about her hopes and dreams. I could tell you about how she will react to certain news. My love for my best friend is a love that is full of knowledge and insight because I've spent so much time getting to know her. And this knowledge in turn helps me love my best friend better.

In the same way, our love for Jesus is supposed to grow in knowledge and depth of insight. Having this desire to grow my students' love for the Lord in this way is something that really moves me. In my Bible class, we've been reading the book of Acts. My goal is for my students to be wrapped up in the story, enthralled by the way the Lord was moving in the early church. And it took a while to get there, but I'm starting to see that. Every once in a while, I hear them say "I can't believe he would do that!" or "That is so like the Sadducees to act that way!" or "Miss Leneway, do you think they were really still mad about....? Or were they just jealous because the disciples were starting to get more popular than them?" This story is coming alive in Bible class! But we could have that passion and still have no knowledge or understanding of what's actually going on or how to apply it to our lives. That's not what I want. So I make sure to challenge my students and to give them tools to continue to grow their knowledge and insight of the Bible even when not in Bible class.

But when only 25% of my teaching time is Bible class, this can't be enough! I need to have that passion that all of my students will learn to have a love for Christ that can not be satisfied. That their love for Him would be ever-increasing so that they just want to know and understand him more and more. That's my vision for my students. That's what I want to impart on them. A growing love for the Lord.

so that you may be able to discern what is best
I also am big on not wanting my followers to need me. When I was raising leaders in my college ministry, my motto was to raise leaders who do a better job than I could ever do and who can touch more lives than I ever could. Part of that is growing an independence in those followers and making sure they know how to hear from the Lord themselves. Never can I grow a dependency on me, I can only point to a dependency and reliance on Christ.

With my students likewise, I want to produce an independence in them. I want them to be able to use their knowledge of who God is, who He has designed them and His vision for the world to be a filter for which they learn how to make decisions. I want them not to have to ask me what the Lord would have them do in this situation, but be able to figure it out themselves because they know the Lord so intimately. At first, these questions will be essential for me to address. But this needs to be done with the intention of producing independent Christ-followers who can listen to God for themselves as well as looking for wisdom through the other members of Christ's body.

and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, 
At the same time that my students are learning to discern what's best, I want them to learn how to be pure and blameless. In my years of experience, I've seen how sin never satisfies in the way you think it will. I've seen how it can create slavery and bondage, both in my own life and in the lives of others. And I've seen the wreckage and carnage it leaves in its wake. And man, I don't want my students to learn that the hard way. I just want them to want Jesus so badly that sin doesn't have a chance to hurt them. That they really would be able to stand pure and blameless because of that growing knowledge and love of the Lord that leads to right action.

filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ-
The right action that comes with loving and knowing the Lord is not just one that stays away from sin, but one that pursues good works and righteous acts. And I don't want my students to do this because they think they have to or to improve anyone's perception of them, but because they love Jesus so much that it doesn't make sense not to. Because at the end, Jesus will know the motivation of their hearts. When he gets to my students, I want him to say to them, "Well done good and faithful servant!" I want my students to have done so much good for Christ that their treasures in heaven make my own pile look puny.

Practically, I want to see these students reaching out to non-believers that they know. Or if they don't know any, finding some nonbelievers and building those relationships so they can share Christ! I want to see my students pushing each other to make godly decisions. I want to see students sharing with each other visions of what they'd like to see God doing and encourage each other in how to pursue those. I want to see my students helping other disciples grow in their spiritual maturity. And I want more than anything for them to find life and passion in doing this.

to the glory and praise of God! 
And as all of this happens, I don't want us ever to forget the one to whom the credit is due. I don't want to take any praise for what God's doing in their lives. I don't want them to get credit for what a "good" kid they've become. I want all glory to go to God for an incredible live-changing work that He's done in their lives. I want it to be recognized that before we're living fully for Him, our life is meaningless and He's the only one who can give it meaning. And I don't want either them, myself or those who are watching to ever get that wrong but to constantly come back before the Lord celebrating this.







So I think that's my vision. To produce students that love the Lord so deeply that they would inspire others to do the same. My next step? Figure out how to make this dream a reality. Pray for me as I do.

And I encourage you: Before you go to bed tonight, think about what your vision is. If you don't think you have one, if you can't boil it down to a sentence that you can come back to when the going gets tough or when you're in need of direction, work on that. Ask God to guide you. Because your vision drives you, and living into a God-given vision is the most rewarding thing you could do with your life. If you have a vision, think about what steps you need to be taking to make that vision a greater reality in your life. Embody your vision. Inspire others to join you in your vision. After all, without vision we merely fumble around in the darkness.