Can't Get You Out of my Head

I've been absolutely loving my added responsibility at work:  ordering YA, Middle Grade, and Easy books.  Okay, so mostly I've loved ordering the YA books, because THEY FEED MY SOUL.  And as part of my research into what I should buy, I get to check out book blogs, which are pretty much the coolest (and nerdiest) things in the interwebs.  Naturally, the way I know if I'll like a book blog is to scope out their opinion on the Hunger Games series.

Team Gale?  Oh my word they must be idiots.  Didn't like the finale?  IDIOTS.  (My insults are not very well-formed.)  So then today I came across someone with a Team Peeta banner in the margin of their site, and on their list of books that had personally impacted them, this was written:

"I don't know what it was about this book {Mockingjay}, but it really and truly blew me away. It was, in my mind, the perfect ending to the Hunger Games trilogy, but more than that it was just really, really amazing. It broke my brain. It gave me a reading hangover. It showed me how powerful a book can be. I don't know how to explain it except to say that it had been years since I had read something that - through sheer force of story - made me feel so much."

YES EXACTLY.  Must re-read the entire series whenever my stack of to-read books lessens even slightly.

Stories

We made purses out of duct tape at the library today, and Wendy and Abby (by which I mean David, who was her fill-in) came!  I love to show off my place of business to people I love.

David and I worked at a table together, and it was lovely to discuss epic light saber duels and how apparently everyone has always called me a tall turtle, but I realized something.  I suck at telling stories.  David went off on how his great-uncle killed a snake, and it was suspenseful and hilarious.  So I thought of my own holiday recollection, and no kidding, it went like this.

"Oh!  So at Christmas, my grandpa said something, but it wasn't exactly true, so he said, 'And that's almost the truth!'  It was so funny!  So we kept saying it the rest of the day, and he didn't even know that he had started it.  HAHAHAHAHA."

David didn't even respond (though later I called him on lying and he smirked, "That's almost the truth"). 

I am not pleased with my suckage.  This is exactly why I write and do not speak.  Unless, of course, I am similarly deluded as to my skill in writing.  Which would be tragic, because then I would have no means of communication left to me!

Also I write because in person I look like this:

Me:  Hey Wendy, can I use some of your duct tape?  I ran--
Wendy:  Oh my gosh!  Tricia, what's wrong with your eye!?
Me:  ...Thank you for drawing attention to my deformity.

Five days now.  It was good this morning until I put in contacts, and now it hurts even with them out.  Probably I will have to see a doctor or something.  I like my eyeball!  I would prefer to keep it!  However, wearing an eyepatch for a while would only be awesome.

Levels of Friendship

Random:  one of my eyes is crazy red.  It creeps me out, and it's been like that for three days now.  Whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I think of Natalie Portman in the preview for Black Swan, and I want to die a little.  It was fun for a day, now I am tired of it.

So.  I get lonely in Peoria, which has frustrated me before, because why?  I have way more friends here than Jackson.  All the families at Woodland that are dear and close, and I can be stupid and myself with them.  But it just isn't enough, I guess, and I finally figured out why.

I miss having best friends.  Stephanie, Jennie, Erin.  I could tell them anything--my struggles, my anger, my pride.  I could be sad around them, and mopey, and I could ignore them, and they would still like me the next day.

I don't have friends in Peoria that I can be depressed with.  I don't see anyone often enough to let myself express my depression (whenever it hits) because I don't want to waste any time.  So I plaster on a smile, and really, it ends up being great, but as soon as I leave all those bad feelings come back.

Probably I could have close friends again.  Lindsay and I have had some nice talks, but our work schedules are obnoxious, so we can't hang out often.  (Which is why I selfishly am Team Lindsay Gets A New Job.)  Sometimes I share more of myself with Wendy, but the fact that I am friends with her children will always add a layer of awkwardness to certain conversations.  Emily and I talk a lot, when she's here.  But that's not often.

Anyway, all that to say I get lonely here.  On Christmas Eve I was feeling it hard core, and it was just really an awful night.  But Christmas morning I saw a facebook message from Stephanie that positively made my week.

She wants to come to Mongolia with me!  I wanted someone to come with me, but I wanted it to be a God thing, not a me-coercing-someone thing.  And it's STEPHANIE.  We will have so much fun.  That is two to three weeks when I can hang out with my best friend in a new country serving God.  PERFECT.

And she asked if we could memorize Scripture together, which is lovely because I can't do that with David anymore, because it feels too intimate.  And she is coming to visit in January.  And I am already thinking of all the videos we can make, and all the conversations we can have, and all the places I can take her, and all the people I want her to meet.

I miss my best friend.  I'm so glad she is still my best friend.  We have known each other two years, and we have lived in different states (or countries) longer than we've lived in the same.  Which, to me, means our friendship is pretty awesome, because we are both aware of our (normally) horrible ability to keep in touch long distance.

So this is happy.  I love my Peoria friends.  I wish I had deeper friendships here.  But I'm so glad God brought back/reminded me that just because my best friends don't live here, doesn't mean they can't have a huge part of my life.

Up with the happy.

So It Continues!

I might be going to Mongolia this summer!

So when I got my job at the library, it felt very much like it was handed to me from God, which got me thinking: what is God teaching me through this?  Especially since it was directly contradicting my own plans of never working with kids or teaching them.  And on my way to Memphis for Erin and Tim's wedding, I thought, maybe I should work in an orphanage.

That is very easily found out, so I decided to look for a short term mission trip to an orphanage, so I could experience it and see what happened.  In September, I became friends with Gany, who is from Mongolia, and whose pastor started an orphanage there.

A month ago I emailed her and asked if I could come and work there for awhile, but she didn't write back.  I had given up on the idea, and I was starting to look into InnerChange.  But I felt like God was telling me to wait on that until January, which isn't so far away, so I agreed.

Then yesterday Gany replied (she'd been home on vacation without internet) and said they would love to have me!  I talked to my boss, and she said I could have up to three weeks off!

I'm so excited to be back on the mission track.  This patience thing is really hard, and I tend to get stuck in whatever rut I find myself.  Even though my plan last summer was "short term mission trip in August, long term sometime after," I was starting to think nothing would happen, which is stupid, because look!  My plan (God's plan?) is coming true!

And it's so comforting that I had that doubt, and wanted to move on to another option, but God stopped me.  It's so nice to know He is behind this, in some way.

Though it is kind of scary to plan a trip by myself!  I don't know how to do that, but I imagine I will just buy a plane ticket and show up.  Done.  I love adventure.

Oh my word, it is so encouraging just to have the hope of a real mission trip in my future.  I didn't quite realize how necessary that is to my happiness.  (But at the same time, I'm glad this is only short term, because I'm not sure I'm ready to give up Peoria long term yet....selfishness or God's timing or both, I don't know.)

Remembering

I finished reading through my Senegal blog, and when I got to the part where I drove to Dakar for the last time with Kim and Liz, I was reminded of this November, when we left Fatick to go to Sali.  I was really moody and silent, and Wendy asked what was wrong with me.  I kind of burst out in an obnoxious teenager way, "I hate leaving!"  And no one said anything, because they were all thrilled to move on to the retreat part.

And then at the end, in Dakar, as we left the government official's house and drove through the dark streets to the airport, I was moody again, staring out the window.  Because Wendy is my mentor/friend, she once again asked if I was okay.  Sally jumped in and joked, "She's a zombie!  She needs sleep."

Not so.  I was trying to hide the fact that I was crying.  Because it sucked.  It was such a tease to go back to Senegal for only a week and a half.  I didn't really give that trip its due on here, because it was over so quickly, and then life started up crazy fast here in Peoria.

But I miss Senegal.  Life seems clearer there.  And more adventurous.  I love living overseas, and even though there are a lot of awesome things about living in Peoria, there are a lot of not awesome things too.

I want life to be easy.

Do I really have to go to work again? I'm done with this adult thing.

I feel like I'm on the edge of a spiritual and emotional cliff.  Last night I was really missing old-school Jackson (my Craig 3 sisters), and then this morning I found out that Whitney is getting married this week.  Of course I wasn't invited, and I don't think it's a big wedding, but I doubt I would have been invited anyway. 

So that sucks.  And I haven't really been enjoying my time with God lately.  I just read and pray the bare minimum to let my conscious feel clear.  Though of course that doesn't work, because I think God would rather I not spend time with him than spend fake time with him.

But I read from Revelation today (oh my word I love that book more and more every time I read it), and I felt like God spoke to me through the letter to Ephesus.  Because I'm good at the righteous anger and indignation.  I have a very clear picture of what holiness and church life should look like, and when it's not that way, I get pissed.  But sometimes, often, I let that anger get in the way of loving my spiritual family.  I'm like a fairy--I only feel one emotion at a time.

How to both hate hypocrisy and love Christians, when of course all Christians will be hypocrites at some time, because we are still fallen people struggling toward sanctification?  I don't know.  Something else God needs to change in my heart.  At least now I'm more aware of it and will look for him working.

College at Woodland

When I got back from Senegal, Nick Maclin told me he and the Wineingers wanted to have a college Bible study, and would I lead it?  I immediately said yes, because while I was in college, I mostly hated going to Woodland.  There was no college Sunday School and no college Sunday night activity.  Sure, everyone welcomed me to join groups to which I didn't belong, but it was always awkward and I always dreaded it.

And I don't understand this gaping hole, because no matter the number, college kids are awesome.  They have this desire, and the belief, that they can change the world.  At Woodland, the college group was very much aware of the fact that we were given a lot through the youth group, and we were taught and equipped to take that knowledge and pass it on.  So when our group started planning the Fellowship Weekend, I was so incredibly thrilled to be a part of a group that was learning about God and then putting that knowledge into practice, allowing the youth group to serve Him and have fun together at the same time.

But we caught a lot of flak.  I got all worked up about it this morning, and it really does blow my mind that people are not supporting us, are still pushing us outside certain lines, when we are struggling to survive.  This is the first college group that I can ever remember.  Why are people not throwing themselves at us to help us?  Why are we being knocked down for being too involved or not involved enough?  It drives me nuts, and it genuinely gets me angry.

But.  Oh my word, I love this group of friends.  We decided not to participate in the youth group's Christmas gift exchange, because we didn't want to jump into that drama.  So we finished studying Hosea, and talked about how the undeserving love of God should pour out of us and make an impact on the world.

That led to us deciding to create a different service project every month.  It's going to be a college thing, but with any youth groupers more than welcome to join us.  I don't want people to think we're controlling or whatever, but no way am I going to deny middle and high schoolers the opportunity to serve God and live a Christian life just because some people don't like us intermixing.

And I'm just so glad to be lifted up.  This morning, I was so ready to give up.  I don't know if anyone else (besides two or three people I've talked to) feel the same amount of drama that I do, but man, it sucks.  I feel so much like we're being kicked while we're down, and maybe that is not the case, but it feels like it sometimes.  And my reaction to being kicked is to stay down, or maybe run away.  But not this college group!  I'm so happy that they just jumped into doing something else.

I love Woodland a lot, and when thing get stupid, I become irrationally disappointed.  I want Woodland to be totally awesome, and it hurts me when it's not.  So it was exactly what my heart needed to be encouraged by the awesomeness of the Wineingers, Nick, Emily, the Webers, and Troy.  They are totally awesome, and we've decided that if the face of Christianity will be changed, then our church needs to change, then our college group needs to change, then we as individuals need to change.

I love that.  I'm so thankful that God didn't allow me to sulk for very long.  I'm so thankful that He gave me another group of friends who will inspire and encourage and push me.  God is great.  He will give us opportunities to serve Him if we ask.  I can't wait to see what we learn about Him and His people through college GASS.

UM. THE AWESOMENESS CONTINUES

So after that whole blog thing on Monday, where Ryan read my review and tweeted about it, I emailed her like the fangirl I am.  I have been obsessively checking my work email, fighting this battle of "it probably went to her spam, stop getting your hopes up, YOU ALWAYS GET YOUR HOPES UP" vs "well, she is obviously internet savvy and consistently checks things, so maybe, I mean maybe, oh please oh please?"

AND SHE RESPONDED.  Like, three minutes ago I saw her email, because I cannot keep my emotions to myself.

Let me just copy/paste it here, so that years from now, when I reread my blog, it will be here to cheer me up and renew my fangirl screams.

Hey Tricia,


Thanks for your email! I found your review through my google alerts and like I said, I rarely read reviews but I was so curious by the little excerpt that I had to click through (it was your take on love triangles that piqued my curiosity). I just really loved your review because it felt like you “got” what I was writing — that Mary is selfish and flawed but still strong, the themes, difficult choices, etc. I just can’t explain the thrill I feel when I see a reader connecting to my book like that and it reminded me again how wonderful it is to be a writer and to have readers like you! I also just flat out love it when someone who isn’t a fan of zombies still likes my book (I wasn’t a fan of zombies until a few years ago either).


Thanks so much for brightening my day! I was even more thrilled to find out you were a librarian — very awesome! I do free skype visits with book groups so if you’re ever interested in setting something like that up, please let me know!

Thanks for everything you do to help the next generations find a passion for reading!


Carrie

Yeah.  I so have incentive to build up my book groups now.  A SKYPE CONVERSATION.  I might never recover from this awesomeness.  I AM HAVING A CONVERSATION WITH AN AUTHOR.  This is like, the nerd version of talking to an athlete.  But what am I saying, almost everyone who reads this blog understands my nerdy ways (and probably shares them).

flail flail endless flail

Downs Usually Follow Ups

It is not so much that I am depressed today as it is that yesterday was SO MUCH AWESOME, what with the waking up in a friend's house and then having indirect contact with a famous author.  And then today, I dunno, it was mostly normal (okay, not really, because I got to visit my library friend under the pretext of investigation, and it was really nice) at work.  I was going to visit the Monahans after I got off, but I'm all very insecure, and I didn't know if they would want me dropping in, so I went shopping by myself to finish up some Christmas presents, and then I came home.

I've decided to clean up my Senegal blog, and as I was reading about my adventures almost a year ago, I just....freaked out.  Because I don't know when I'm going overseas again.  I am so freaking attached to Peoria.  It's my comfort.  I have a room, and my parents usually buy my food, and I have friends, and my life has a schedule.

What if I have already become a super big wuss?  Because the idea of going somewhere new with all new people?  Is terrifying.  Sure, it worked out great last time.  But my very dear friend also followed God to another country for a couple months, and it was so not a great experience for her.

I can't move overseas.  People talk to me about marriage, and even though that still feels so ridiculous, part of me thinks being a missionary means giving up boys, or at least giving up certain boys, or certain ideas of boys.  I don't want to find a new culture.  I don't want to learn a new language.  I was self-conscious about my language-acquisition skills before Senegal, and now?  UTTERLY DESTROYED.  People, through joking and serious concern, have made me feel awful and useless when it comes to language.  I can't do it again.  I hate feeling stupid.

What if I don't make friends?  What if I choose the wrong organization?  How am I supposed to go where God wants me to go?  I know He can use me anywhere, but what if one place is really better than another, and I don't choose it?

Ugh.  It's just so stressful trying to live as a missionary, and all I can picture are these couple people who invalidate me, and just, in my head they are waiting for me to fail.  And I'm so scared that I will fail, and they will be right, and everyone who has ever supported me will be disappointed, and probably they will still talk to me and hug me and tell me they love me, but it will be from pity.

Geez.  I am melodramatic.  I hate living alone.  Living with parents feels like living alone.  I want friends.

OMG I AM DYING I AM DYING OF HAPPINESSSSSS

So.  Oh my word.  I can't even collect my thoughts.  But I went to check on my library blog this morning, and noticed an oddly huge spike in views on Saturday, which is when I reviewed Carrie Ryan's book The Forest of Hands and Teeth.  Two people commented, and one person said they found it because Carrie Ryan tweeted that it made her happy.

Um, what?  I didn't really believe it, so I googled Ryan's twitter feed, and scrolled down to December 11th, and this is what I found:

Okay, I rarely read reviews but I clicked on this one for FHT and glad I did. Brightened my day! http://is.gd/iyNr7


OH MY WORD.  CARRIE RYAN READ MY REVIEW OF HER BOOK.  How?  How did she find it?  I don't know!  BUT SHE READ IT AND IT BRIGHTENED HER DAY!

I can't believe it.  I want to die of happiness.  I have, in a very round about way, had a conversation with a brilliant author.  I made a brilliant author happy!  I never in a million years thought that an actual author would read my library blog.  NEVER.  And she did and OH MY WORD.

My heart has not stopped racing for the last hour.  AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

I've Not Slept In Normal Places This Weekend

Gah!  It's just so much fun to live with friends.  I went to Lindsay and Nathan's last night for a party, and it was just so great to help Lindsay make loads of delicious food and talk about life.  Then we all watched American Ninja Warrior (omg the hilarity of its name alone) and ate.  The rest left, and Lindsay and Nathan and I played Coloretto until Nathan went to bed.  Then Lindsay and I stayed up past midnight talking.

My car wouldn't start (Bertha is persnickity about the cold), so I ended up putting my contacts in ketchup bowls, borrowing pajamas, and sleeping on their couch.  Around 6 am something pushed on my stomach, and I jerked up in fear.  It was Forrest, their cat.  She slept on me for the next three hours, and it was just so adorable I didn't care that I couldn't move.

Then Lindsay and I drank coffee and watched the Food Network.  My car started at 10, and thus ended the awesome.

It would be so fun to live with them 24/7.

Fellowship Weekend

The college kids and I planned a Fellowship Weekend (incorrectly named--should have been Service Weekend) for the youth group, and by "college kids and I" who I really mean is Ashley Wineinger.

I'm glad to still be involved with the youth group, because lo!  I am still a child.  Lockins?  Yes, please.  Using my age to snatch couch cushions from the boy's room to sleep on?  Added benefit!

So how much fun was the weekend?  Well, there was much baking of cookies, watching children, and dance parties in the kitchen (which was mostly me jumping around at people who either laughed at me or stared at me like they feared for my sanity....awesomely enough, Michael Baker was most likely to dance along).  We had a little worship service at 9:00, which was great even if the kids utterly ignored the youtube songs we chose.  Then Nathan spoke, which just made my heart squench, and yes I am revolutionizing the world and turning that into a verb.

The kids went outside for a snowball/mud fight, but I played Dominion with Scott, Anessa, Lindsay, and Nathan.  So much fun!  I don't even know how, because there's so little to actually do, and it's not loud and...it's just kind of addicting.  Then we played the dice game from PotC, which is even more randomly fun.

Finally at 2:00 we all went to bed.  Mostly.

In the morning we ate breakfast and played PotC dice (Nathan: Soooo...we have five seconds, want to play?) until teams were divvied up and we were off to visit Seasoned Saints.  Which, I'm sorry, but I think I would take far more offense at being labeled "Seasoned Saints" than "older members of our church."  Don't patronize me, youngsters! 

I was paired with Kayli, which was lovely, because we've never actually had a chance to talk, and I quite like her.  We visited three families, and it was all just really great.  We were lucky to have people who were not weirded out with "hello people I barely know--come sit in my living room!" and who were conversationally vibrant.  I actually really enjoyed the morning, and I think Kayli did too.

Then hanging out and disgusting details of childbirth (though this time from the male perspective, which was so much more with the hilarity), then lunch, then Viral Video Film School BECAUSE THAT NEVER STOPS BEING FUNNY, then home.  Then I slept for four hours, because I was beat.

Also, I finished memorizing Psalm 139!  I'm glad David got me into that, because it really is valuable to memorize Scripture and have it come to mind.  During worship last night, we sang some song about God being with us and shining on us, so I leaned over to David and said, "When I awake, I am still with You" and he was all, "I was just thinking that!"  How fun to talk Bible and it be about life.  Good times.

Family

Roy came home this weekend.  I feel like I should have a lot to say about that, but the only thing in my head is this:  It's nice not being an only child, even if only for a weekend.

Being surrounded by my blood family was lovely, and there was a lot of laughter and memories, etc.  But it made me appreciate my spiritual family, oddly enough.  Because the biggest thing in my life is God.  Everything revolves around Him--my past, my present, my future.  And while I'm getting better about being honest about God's impact on my life when talking with my father and brother, it's a totally different thing to talk TO someone about God rather than talk WITH someone.

I love my church family, who mock me and love me and encourage me.  I love my friends, who inspire me and put me in my place and fill me with joy.  I love the believers around the world who are serving God and allowing me to participate by financially supporting them.  I love Melengo, my Tanzanian Compassion kid who just sent me new pictures.

It astounds me how my heart is knitted so closely to these people who are from my city or from other countries, who are male and female, who are young and old, who I have known for years or have never met.  The only thing we all have in common is a love for Jesus, and somehow, magically supernaturally, that makes us family.   I love that.

So I love Roy, and I love my mom and my dad.  But more than the blood bonds I have with them, I am thankful for the extended and ever-growing family God has given me.

I Have More Kindred Spirits Than I Know What To Do With

Today I know two things:

1)  God loves me.  Individually, like he cares specifically for my mental and emotional wellbeing.
2)  God wants me to go into missions.

Why do I know these things?  Because it is hard to live post-college.  At Union, I could have crazy awesome conversations about serving God and following Him around the world any night of the week with anyone who crossed my path.  I was surrounded by people who were being called into the same lifestyle that I was.  Now I am surrounded by married people and young people and people who are pursuing careers.  Which is fine for them, if that is what God wants for them.  But it can be subtly discouraging for me.

But!  To keep me from losing focus entirely, God sends people along to remind me of what I love, and to refill me with a passion for going to all the world to make disciples for the greatest God ever.  Right when I got back from Senegal, He sent Megan Sage.  Then there was Gany.  And today there was Rebekah Warner.

Rebekah was one of those baby-friends, and I remember liking her in preschool.  But then she moved to Japan, and when  she came back to the States, it wasn't to Peoria.  She went to Music Camp with me in 6th grade, but I don't remember why.  And that is probably the last time I saw her.

But in an awesome God move, she sent a letter to our family asking for support because she is going to South Africa for three years, and she needs money.  I contacted her, and today we met up, because WE ARE THE SAME PERSON.

We met at Starbucks at 10:30, and when I finally looked at my cell phone, two whole hours had flown by.  God is so good--talking to her was exactly what I needed.  She shares so many of my thoughts, about loving cultures, about wanting to live radically where finances are concerned, about wanting true Christianity, not something tainted by American culture or entitlement or self.  It was so good to hear her say my thoughts, and to think, "Yes!  That's why I feel this way!  We can do great things for God!  We are meant to stick out, to look completely ridiculous to the world."

And it was so wonderful to be able to share my experience with someone and pass on a bit of wisdom.  I could tell her about culture shock and getting used to being the only white face in a crowd.  It's so nice to know that God is still using my time in Senegal to help others.

But the best part.  Rebekah said, "I mean, it's really the easy way out.  Living in Africa?  That's where it's easiest to trust God and love Him and tell people about Him.  Staying in America and getting a job?  That would be hard.  Being a radical Christian and avoiding the American dream?  That's hard.  I'd much rather be a missionary."

Yes yes yes you are reading my thoughts.  And then she absolutely healed my heart.  I have had such little confidence in my life ever since some people told me I'd done things wrong, and am currently doing things wrong.  And I don't think I am.  I really think God told me to stop applying to missions programs.  I think being patient and waiting for God to open doors is incredibly important and hard and sanctifying.  But now I've got voices in my head telling me I'm wrong, that I should be more proactive, that I'm a failure.

But Rebekah stopped and told me, "You're doing the hard part.  I'm definitely going to be praying for you, because it's amazing that you are waiting.  You're living in America even though you have a passion for missions, and that is way harder than what I'm doing."

My word, I'm going to cry.  Stupid.  But it was so....just....it was exactly what my soul needed to hear.  God wants me to go into missions, and I am keeping my ears and my heart open for the moment when He says yes.  But I know that already I am learning a lot of lessons here in Peoria.  I'm learning to love kids, to plan events, to teach, to mentor, to love people I don't necessarily love.  God is preparing me for the service I will do sometime, somewhere.  I am waiting.  And it's so nice to have someone understand that it is HARD to be in America when all I want is to be somewhere else.

I'm so glad God let me have one of Rebekah's mornings.  I think she's going to be absolutely brilliant in South Africa, and I hope we will be friends on and off in this lifetime.  I can't wait to hear about all her adventures.  I can't wait to have adventures myself, but I know that God's timing is better than mine.

Church Talk

I haven't had much of a chance to process this latest trip to Senegal--the day after I returned to the States, I immediately jumped into a crazy week at work.  Then I got a cold, and that was a nice excuse to sleep a lot and deal with the culture shock.  And then all of a sudden we were meant to talk.  I knew immediately what I would say, and I felt very removed and intellectual about it.

Then we sang "Before the Throne of God Above."  And I watched my own slideshow (which has a song from Mumford and Sons....they kill me with their truth and searching and honesty), and at a picture of me with Liz, Jesse, and Melanie, I suddenly choked up.  It was only two weeks ago.  I miss them.  I keep thinking of that night when Travis took me home, and Liz greeted me with, "Good, you're back!  I need you to listen to two songs!  And then we're going to watch this!" and in the process we talked a lot and laughed a lot and oh my word.  I want to go back.

And then Sally talked, and Wendy, Christina, and Cheryl.  It was so awesome to hear people talking about my third home, with love and hope and fond memories.  I love seeing people love something that I love.  Then I talked about the differences since I lived in Senegal, and all the awesome ways God is obviously working in Fatick and West Africa. 

I realized something.  I think I'm a bit of a mobilizer.  I mean, in my Hands On devotionals toward the end, that was a big thing, about going home and mobilizing other people to pray, give, and go.  But today I realized that being a mobilizer is not just something I feel I ought to do.  It's something I want to do.

I want to see Woodland members selling possessions and downsizing their houses or their retirement funds in order to give money to people working around the world to bring the good news of Jesus to people who don't know Him.  I want Woodland members to come together in prayer, covering the world with their faith that God will provide and guard His people.  I want Woodland members to rise up, to give up their jobs and take their families to the far corners of the world, to experience the grace and the peace and the love of God and share Him with others.  And I want to be right there in the middle of them.

Anyway, it was nice to learn that about myself, because even though Sally talks about all of us finding our niche on the trip....I didn't.  I don't know why I went, except that God was gracious and allowed me to see friends and see Him working.  Now I think I know a part of it.  I'm good with words.  I can write, and apparently I can speak okay.  I want to use my words to inspire and/or kick people in the pants, to be a part of mobilizing a new wave of devoted and sacrificial people who will follow Jesus into their neighborhoods, their inner cities, their countries, and their world.

Reorienting. Refocusing.

Tomorrow the Woodland team and I are going to talk about Senegal during church.  (It's only been two weeks since I left Senegal.  How weird is that?  SO WEIRD.)

So while I postponed preparing my mini-speech, I read this little story thing I'd been writing about my first trip to Senegal.  And that led me to my original Senegal blog, and it kind of broke my heart.  I was so into God.  I was deliberately seeking Him, and I was expecting to find Him and to find answers.  The world was shiny and new, and I saw God everywhere and in every event.

I miss that.

I used to sit around with Liz and talk about the Holy Spirit and giving up fear and stepping out of comfort zones.  Now I sit around and talk about boys (stupid boys! the lack thereof in Senegal is still one of its most attractive qualities) and jobs and everyday menial life.  Ugh.  I want the fire back.  I want that passion.  And it's not even a mystery as to why I don't have it now.

I don't have desperation.

The speaker at the Senegalese Missionary Women's Retreat talked about living in the United States after 17 years of missionary service, and just breaking down one day because she realized she wasn't desperate for God.  Why am I in the United States when that is my problem too?  Why are we all so content to sit at home?  To have stuff?  Ugh, to go to Black Friday deals!  I went shopping, and I was so giddily excited about buying a Wii for the library, because it wasn't my money.  The joy of spending money for the sake of spending money is still materialism!  I am still so far from where I want to be.

I want to live in a place where materialism is just not even an issue.  I want to live in a place where there are far bigger spiritual lessons to be learned.  I want to think about God and His attributes and let that inform my life and my choices, not the other way around.

And yes, of course I can think about God in the US.  The speaker even said that the lesson she learned is that you can choose to be desperate.

But it is far easier to be desperate outside of your comfort zone than inside it.

Anyway.  I didn't mean to get all emotional and ranty.  The point of this is, is that I've contacted Gany, and I'm opening up the possibility of visiting her in Mongolia and seeing her church's orphanage, and making those steps towards missions again.  It's all very basic, and I haven't heard back from her.  But I liked what a woman said in Wendy's and my workshop...she said in her life, she is pushing on life doorways and seeing which ones open, and which ones God closes.

I'm pushing a door.  We'll see what happens.

Psalm 139

On Sunday, David told me that he'd tried to get his Sunday School class to memorize Scripture with him, but they kind of just walked out the door.  Since I have been off my memorizing game for the last five months, I told him I'd do it.  So we're memorizing Psalm 139, which is awesome, because Wendy likes to talk about it a lot.  And when she talks about it, she glows, the way she does when she talks about Aslan or the romance of Jesus or personal gifts from God.

I wanted that glow, but for the first few verses it was just rote memorization.  Disappointing.  But then I got to verse 5, and that was it.  That was the Word being alive, and speaking exactly to me exactly what I need to hear at this exact time in my life.  You hem me in--behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me.

God has hemmed me in behind and before...my past and my present.  Why do I constantly, agonizingly worry about the future?  Why do I imagine that there are limitless possibilities from which I can choose?  (Oh yeah, because my generation was fed on the lies! lies! of "you can be whatever you want to be.")  But regardless of potential or experience or placement...I have a God who is hemming me in before, who is guarding my future and who is directing my steps, and the steps of everyone around me.

My word, this is freedom!  I get a taste of it every now and then, and it's so good.  I wish I could hold on to it, but I know I'll get sucked into this world's anxiety and slavery again.  For now, though, I am enjoying the knowledge that God is in control of my life.  If I live within his moral will, He will move me like His own arm, and I don't have to worry.

From there, the beginning of the psalm came alive too.  God has searched me and He knows me...He is familiar with all my ways....and yet He still hems me in?  He still places His hand upon me?  What a glorious, undeserving thought!  Truly, truly, such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain!

Oh man, good stuff.  God, it's like You're talking to me and giving me words all at the same time.  You are awesome.  I'm so glad I'm back in the memorizing game.  Taking the time to meditate and repeat Scripture can only lead to AWESOME.  And I am all about increasing the awesome in my life, which inevitably means increasing the God in my life.

Lesson Learned. Kind of.

I should have been prepared.  God taught me a lesson about making room for trials and pain, and about using those times to unmask my soul and see who I really am and what I really desire.  Of course He was teaching me because I was going to have to put it into practice.  I should be grateful for the heads-up, but mostly I feel stupid.  And pained.

A while ago I met a boy, and as I do, I immediately thought he was The One.  Which is silly, because I don't believe in The One.  (OH wait, look, there's me finding out some soul stuff.)  Anyway, I quite liked him, and he colored a picture and left it for me, which, can I just say, is cocaine to someone whose love language is gifts.  I didn't check him out on the internet because I wanted our relationship to grow naturally.  Well, screw that!  Turns out Mark Zuckerberg reinvented social networking for a reason, and the reason is this:  so that you can find out when cute nice guys are already engaged.

Seriously, I think I'm going to start a petition to stop Christian guys from being so annoyingly friendly, for the sake of poor sods like myself who are absolutely terrible at reading "signals."  Whatever those are.  Ugh.

And I shouldn't really be that upset, because I only knew the guy for two hours.  What really gets me is all the soul-baring that this has caused me to confront.  Because the fact that I jumped to marriage and happily-ever-after with a guy of mere acquaintance?  That's important.

I am still, apparently, a romantic.  There is this deep need within me to love and be loved by someone else.  I've tried to bury it under knowledge (because yeah!  I know that marriage is about 20x harder than being single!) and pride (because yeah!  I don't need a guy to complete me!).  But the truth is, regardless of whether I need a guy or not, and I truly don't think I NEED one...the truth is I want one.

Which makes me feel awful, because I really really want to get to a place where I only desire love from God.  I don't understand how to balance the in-born relational needs God placed in me with the call to completely and totally devote my life to God.

I don't know.

I'm disappointed in myself, and I'm disappointed in the world.  If I really am a pathetic sad sap, then that sucks, because there are no boys for Tricia in the world.  I have very high standards, and the few that meet them have already been taken or are not age appropriate.  Annoying, I say!

I'm not sure what to do with this new self-knowledge.  It doesn't change anything.  I'm still single, and still pursuing a meaningful life wherever God leads me.  What does it matter if now I know beyond a doubt that my soul would prefer not to stay single forever?  Well, at least I'm a bit more honest with myself.  Too bad it was easier to be self-confident and singley-assured.

Obstacles in My Spiritual Journey

One of the things I've been slowly mulling over for the past year or so is the idea of Christianity being a journey.  It was a huge thing for me to realize that the moment I accepted Jesus as Lord was not THE MOMENT where everything was changed and I was made perfect.  It was, instead, the beginning of a process in which God changed me and is gradually making me perfect. 

When I looked at Christian Tricia, I knew she wasn't perfect.  What a relief to know that I'm not supposed to be, not yet! 

Anyway, after that revelation, I started seeing how life affects that spiritual journey, and how those horrible times of depression or apathy or pain are actually hugely monumental in getting us closer to God and closer to who He wants us to be.  At the Bible study I led this fall, I said something like, "We should look forward to trials, because they will lead us closer to God!"  And everyone agreed that yes, they do, but someone told me, "But I don't think we ought to look forward to them."

At which point I, having no back bone, agreed.  But really I don't!  I really really think we ought to look forward to pain and temptations and the badness life throws at us.  For two reasons:  1)  because of their end, because God uses those times to bring us closer to Him, and that is worth looking forward to, and 2) because anticipating with joy causes our hearts to crash into those horrible times from a higher point...I would much rather meet disaster with a smile on my face instead of "oh dear, look what's come, I'd better slog my way through."

I hadn't thought much about this until I bought a book at the Senegal Missionary Women's Retreat called Soul Keeping by Howard Baker.  It's brilliant, and speaks to the idea of our soul's journey, and how to focus on what really matters, and what it means to lead our soul into a closer relationship with God.  And this is what Howard Baker said about the matter of depression and pain:

"Such is our human nature that, when we are desperate and lost, we are most willing to surrender to new perspectives on life and accept new directives.  If we understand how such times help us arrive at our ultimate destination, we can begin to make room for them as normal, and even necessary, passages in our spiritual growth."

Make room for them!  I love that!  I want to make room in my life for the depression and apathy that will come after a mission trip.  It is in that dark time that I see the desires God has planted in my heart, and I feel the weight of not being on mission.  It is during that time that I will also be inspired to make something more of my time in the United States, because I don't want to live in that funk forever, and even though it's not as glamorous or as personally-soul-fulfilling, I can live on mission in Peoria.  I would not come to those realizations without first going through depression and apathy.

God, help me to make room in my life for desperation and lostness, because I trust that it is through those times that you will bring me closer to You.

Traveling Perspective

One week ago, I was painting women's toenails and dumping dirty foot-water into sand.  A week ago I was in Senegal, an ocean away, on a different continent.

That doesn't seem like a big deal, and so the world seems small.

My mom told me it was weird that people didn't make a bigger deal that we had returned, and.....I agreed with all those people who didn't act like it was a big deal.  I guess living overseas for five months makes a two-week visit seem less monumentous.  Add to that international travel every six months and friends who visit other friends in Istanbul or France or India just for kicks--what a strange new world I live in.

I love it.

But really, it's completely head-spinning that I've not been home even a week.  It feels like ages.  It's depressing how quickly Senegal feels like a memory.  The pictures are old news.  The stories are told and retold.

Life moves too quickly sometimes.

African Pants

Mostly because of Mallory's awesomeness, I bought some African pants in Saly.  I'm pretty sure they win the award for "begging to be pantsed."  I almost want to pants myself, it's so tempting.

When I told Mallory that I wanted some nifty African pants of my own, she said she couldn't wait to wear them in America.  I told her that they would be great for Walmart, and she responded thoughtfully, "You know, whenever I picture myself wearing them in America, I am in Walmart."

I'm Back

Well, I'm in Peoria.  I am not even trying to be happy about it, but maybe tomorrow I will try.  I about equally want to sink into post-mission depression or rise above it.

However, I am not at all sad that I went, even though going inevitably meant leaving.  I so so so much loved spending time with Liz.  She is my soul mate, and no day is bad with her in it.  And it wasn't just her--I love the Forsythes.  I love Mallory (what's before google?).  I even love the new Hands On girls.  I mean, I want to continue living with them and hanging out with them, that's how much.  And I love my Woodlanders, especially outside the Woodland zone.

So it was great, and the retreat in particular was just amazing.  I mostly felt very useless, doing menial jobs that anyone with basic motor functions can do.  But I feel so blessed, that God allowed me to go on this trip and just absorb and watch women who are desperate for God.  I left feeling that I can't not be a missionary.  It's the easy way out, really.  I want to be desperate for God, and it's a lot easier to be desperate for Him when you're living in a poverty-stricken country, fighting against daily spiritual warfare.

That's scary.  But also intensely exciting.

I don't really have thoughts for this blog.  They are in my head and my heart, and are not ready for words yet. 

I want to go back.

Retreat

Oh my gosh oh my gosh oh my gosh.  I am having such a stupendous time at the Senegal Missionary Women's retreat!  I could write for ages and ages, and probably I will, even though it is after midnight and I have to be up before 7:00.  For the second time.

Anyway, I was looking forward to the retreat less than Fatick, and leaving Fatick on Friday was awful, because I already miss Travis and the kids.  So I was in a bad mood, and I think part of it was spiritual warfare, albeit on a lamer scale than what most people were expecting (because this retreat has been bound up in horrible horrible things, which makes me think God is/will do awesome things through it!).

So after we got to the hotel (which is beautiful and fancy by African standards) and put together the gift bags, I took the Woodlanders to La Riviera and some shops!  By myself!  It was so fun to be the knowledgeable one, especially since that included haggling and hamburgers.

Then we got in the pool.  Heaven.

Wendy and I are in charge of leading the high school girl's small group, which we did before our first main teaching session on Friday night.  Every session, we start by singing at least ten songs.  Yeah, it's intense, and my legs get tired.  But it's AWESOME.  Oh man, singing praises with 150 women who have given up everything to serve God is just incredible.

Oh, and I found out that more than 45 organizations are represented here.  Of which the IMB is a very small percentage.  Very cool! 

The speaker is just awesome.  She completely solidified my desire to be a missionary.  I don't know how anyone can listen to her stories and not want the life she has, even though her stories involve car accidents and abductions and revolutions.  But she loves God, and she was a missionary for 27 years before being stationed in the United States.  This morning she said that one day in the States she was running on the treadmill when she realized that she was no longer desperate for God, at which point she got off and sobbed.  That is what I keep trying to say, but can't.  It's hard to be desperate for God when we have so much at our fingertips.

After the teaching session, we ate a feast, then put out jewelry for women to make earrings and bracelets.  I befriended one missionary in particular, and we made some pretty awesome things.  The crafting was too popular, though, because it was after midnight when we finally got everyone to leave.

We started today with a breakfast feast (where I bonded with one of my high school girls), and a workshop meeting.  It's very weird to be a leader here, when I am 20-30 years younger than the other leaders.  But that is okay!

The first session was brilliant.  Then we broke for personal prayer time, which was also brilliant.  Then I met with Wendy to pray for our first workshop, which went pretty well.  We had four adults along with some high school girls, so there wasn't as much discussion as we anticipated.  Still, I got to share a bit of personal stuff, and Wendy was awesome as always.

Lunch.  A woman from Guinea Bissau talked to us, and oh my gosh it was maybe the highlight of the trip.  Guinea Bissau is the third poorest country in the world, and the worst place to be a child (because of malnutrition) or a woman (because female genital mutilation is actually increasing is popularity).  But HOLY COW, God is working there.  She and her husband live with some African believers, and Muslims are coming to love Jesus all over the place.  The African man they live with went to a hugely Muslim city, and saw a lame man on the side of the street who hadn't walked or felt his legs in four years.  The believer said, "I have good news for you.  The kingdom of God is here.  Would you let me touch your legs so the power of Jesus can heal you?"  The guy said okay, so the the believer touched him, and the guy stood up and flung his crutches away.  He asked to know everything about this Jesus, and became a Christian, and immediately began telling the crowd that had gathered about what had happened.

And this is not even unusual for this missionary woman!  OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH. 

Please read that paragraph again.  It blew my mind.  I want to see that.  I want to have the kind of faith that allows miracles to happen.

AAAAAHHHHHHH.

It's after midnight, can you tell?  The emotion would be the same always, but I'm less eloquent after this little sleep.

Because after totally rocking my world, we had three hours of pampering during which I emptied and filled water basins for foot soaking, painted one woman's toes and another's fingers, and generally ran around doing menial tasks.  Exhausting.

The evening session was brilliant, again, and then Wendy and I had our second and last small group meeting in the shallow end of the pool.  At dinner I bonded with Melanie (have I mentioned that I genuinely love Melanie and Jessie, even though they are the Hands On girls who most obviously replaced me, having moved into my room and all?  They are awesome) and Christina.  Then we were back in the Koinaniansd something Cafe.  I didn't help with jewelry this time.  Instead I played Fishbowl with Kimberley and six new missionary friends.  Awesome.

After my team won, Liz and Mallory brought over some Bible clue game.  Eventually Wendy, Cheryl, Christina and Kim played with us, and it was just basically a big laugh fest as we screamed, "DAVID!  DAVID!  Jericho!  Coins.  Coins.  Coins.  Jesus?  The son of Kish!"

So much fun.  So much awesomeness.  The women here are just so inspiring, and I think we've actually done a good job of encouraging and uplifting and pampering them.  They sure have encouraged me.

I love it.  I don't want to leave.  I want to stay desperate for God.  I'm scared to be desperate for God.  I love mission trips and I never want them to end.  I'm tired.

Midnight

Last night, Liz and I watched and/or listened to Darren Criss (better known as Harry Potter from the Very Potter Musical) sing "Teenage Dream" from Glee at least six times.  That led to her telling me that her friend was looking for people to go to the midnight showing of Harry Potter next week.  I exploded into a rant about how hard it's been to get people to want to go with me, which baffles me because, "Everything is always better at midnight.  Stupid!"

Liz propelled herself to the other end of the bed and grabbed the sheet up around her face as she laughed maniacally.  I had never seen anyone react so violently, but she gasped, "So true!  It's so true!"

That's why I love Liz.  She would go at midnight, if she weren't living in Africa.

Farewell Fatick

Today was potentially my last day ever in Fatick, Senegal.  But maybe not, who knows?

In the morning Lamba and I helped Travis put up wires to hold mosquito nets in the hospital room.  By help I mean we made sure he ate and drank, and also encouraged him.

In the afternoon Lamba took me to visit her friend.  Mbagnik came with us, and walked down the street between us, holding our hands.  I would count to three and then we would lift/jump him a few feet.  When I stopped counting, Mbagnik started saying, "One, too, tree!"  So cute!  Have I mentioned?

I learned the gospel in French before this trip, but I kept missing opportunities to use it.  Finally I just told Lamba, "I practiced my French!  I know very little, but I figured one thing I should know is the story of Jesus, so you wanna hear it?"  It was mostly pathetic, and it was definitely more of a blessing for me than for her.

I've realized the past few days that witnessing is really almost totally for our personal benefit.  God does not need us to bring people to Him.  He can save people or not on His own.  But He wants us to know the honor of passing on His name, of glorifying Him.  I'm not derailing God's plans when I fail to evangelize, but I'm messing up my own spiritual life, and ruining the chance to grow closer to God.

So anyway, that was very neat, and Wendy was also very neat when I hugged Lamba goodbye, possibly forever.  She came up and just straight up said, "I do hope to see you in the United States someday, but more than that, I hope to see you in heaven.  We won't have language problems there, and we can hang out forever!  I will be there because I believe in Jesus, and I hope you will be too."

Guh.  Why can I not be so direct about the things I believe?  It was awesome.

So that's the end.  Riding behind Liz on the moto from the Forsythe's house to ours was bittersweet.  I will see Liz again, but never in Fatick.  It's weird.  But really, I think I will probably come back someday.

Motos and Hospitals

Only one more day in Fatick.  Then we go to Saly for the weekend retreat, and then the trip is over.  While I could definitely stay here another 200 days, I also feel very peaceful about my life.  I'm going back to Peoria.  Someday I will live overseas again, but where is anyone's guess.  The future is wide open, and I'm okay with that.

It's nice to hang out with single young women who are smiling at the future (that's a Bible reference I learned from Wendy).  I miss hanging out with single girls.  It's so fun to crush on actors/real people (which is confusingly melded in the person(s) of Jesse Eisenberg/Mark Zuckerberg) while also discussing how annoying it is to be told that marriage and childbirth are beautiful things when it is also beautiful to devote your life to God for a season or forever.  It's nice to be with people who are in my boat.

We worked at the hospital again today.  We're clearing out an area to be used for cooking, which involves shoveling and raking the sand to get out any rocks, then wheelbarrowing clean sand to pour over.  It's ridiculous work that should have been finished quickly, but we kept getting worn out every five seconds.  Still, it looks a lot better.

Nate and I had a lovely afternoon arguing, although Sally and Cheryl told us to stop several times.  And I got to have some quality time with a lot of the Woodland ladies, and also I feel like I've rebonded with Travis.  Cheryl and he and I were the only ones working at the hospital this afternoon (and mostly we just passed tools to Travis as he climbed ladders and did electrical work).  Kim had dropped me off, so we were a bit at an impasse when quitting time came.

Turns out the three of us rode on a moto.  Yeah, that's right!  Three grown adults crammed onto a moto, putting down the Fatick streets.  Every once in a while people on the sidewalks would die laughing at the crazy toubabs acting all Senegalese, and it was wonderful!  Cheryl is ballin'.  First time on a moto, and she did it big.  I'm so proud of her.

Also, I love Liz.  I wish she would move to Peoria.  I wish she would read my blog and feel guilty and move to Peoria.  Hey, Liz.  Are you reading this?  Move to Peoria!

Social Networking

I feel like I'm more a part of the Fatick team than the Woodland team.  Merely because I act like a Fatickian.  After lunch, I sat around and ate brownies and drank coffee with Kim and the girls.  Then I napped on the couch with Jessie.  Only when I woke up with twenty minutes until our next job did I think to help Sally and Cheryl with the hospital curtains.  Oops.

But I really like fitting in with them!  Last night, Jessie burst in on Liz and me in bed.  Melanie appeared in the doorway, and Jessie threw herself onto us in terror as Liz cried, "What if she'd been a real robber?  You just incapacitated me!"  Then later I remembered the incident and giggled myself into a laughing fit, at which point Liz pointed her iPod at my face to see my laughter, which only made me laugh more.

And today, Liz brought me home from the Forsythe's early in the evening so I could watch The Social Network with her roommates and Mallory.  I have been desperately wanting to see this movie, but no one in Peoria wanted to (and I don't watch movies by myself because I like the talking about it almost as much as the watching it).  I love having friends who share my brainwaves!

And let me tell you, the movie was awesome.  "I'm 6'5", 220 pounds, and there are two of me!"  "Wait, let me do the math....yeah, I got that too."  So good.  The dialogue was Gilmore Girls for geniuses.  Mark Zuckerberg is fascinating.  He understands people so well.  Facebook is a truly fascinating phenomenon, and oh my gosh, how incredibly insane that there is a movie about a 26-year-old?  Who became famous only years before?  The digital age is intoxicating and frightening.

Also, we worked at the hospital in the morning and afternoon.  Good work.  Hard work.  It's hot in Africa.

Not Much to Report

I had chicken yassa today.  It was as good as I remembered, and I was nervous it wouldn't be. 

I fell over on the Forsythe's couch and cuddled against a pillow.  When I looked up, both Kim and Travis were smiling down at me like indulgent parents. 

We did jewelry at Bigue's house, and Christina gave her testimony.  Rocci really took a shine to Wendy, who is also Rocci, and who has a daughter her age. 

Lamba learned to say, "This is an AB conversation, so C your way out."

Riding in transport with Travis is always fun, whether it's bouncing in the truck's backseat or stalling on a moto.

I very much enjoy dinner at the Forsythe's, but none of the Journeymen or Hands On girls are allowed, so I miss them.  Around 9:00 I wandered to Kim and said nonchalantly, "Sooo...is Liz going to pick me up, or are you going to take me home?" 

She answered, "Oh, Travis or I will take you home."  And went back to talking. 

"Oh.  Oookay."

Then two minutes later Liz called Kim and told her to bring me home.  Hahaha.  We really are kindred spirits.  As soon as I walked in the door, Liz said, "Jessie made ice cream!  And we have to watch an episode of House!  And I have two songs that you have to listen to, really loud on the TV!" 

I love my housemate.  It is unfortunate that she wants to live somewhere more awesome than Peoria.

Spiritual Stuff

I feel very much like the useless member of our team, because everyone else has skills and an interesting story of how God told them to come on this trip.  In my case, it was Liz who told me to come on this trip.

But Liz and I talked about it, and I realized that I have a wannabe martyr's complex.  I believe that all good things must somehow...feel bad.  I have to cry and moan and complain before something awesome happens (like my first experience in Senegal).  But you know what?  That's stupid.  I do very much believe, and now claim for myself, that God wants me to live a meaningful and adventurous life.  He wants me to be happy, to live within His rules and to pursue holiness, but that the process is supposed to be a joyful one.

So being back in Senegal?  It's awesome.  It has been so rewarding for me already.  I love talking to the new Hands On girls.  Melanie encouraged me greatly, telling me that if it weren't for me starting the relationships with Bigue, Lamba, and Mame Codou, the new Hands On girls couldn't be doing such awesome work with them in the first place.

It's given me perspective, I guess.  This is really helping me to see the whole "planting/watering/blossoming" process of evangelism.  I started the process by beginning and developing relationships with those girls.  I am not talented at sharing the gospel.  I tried, but it was not a frequent thing.  However, God is not hampered by my weakness--He brought other girls to Fatick who are passionate and eloquent and spiritually mature, and they are able to continue those relationships and water them with God's Word.

It's SO COOL. 

And there's fruit beginning to show!  So much is happening in Fatick.  A young man accepted Jesus as his Lord at a Kid's Club.  I'm pretty sure that's the first complete conversion that has taken place in Fatick the whole time the Forsythe's lived here.  Lamba is having dreams of Jesus and the Holy Spirit.  Another girl that Melanie works with had a dream in which she came upon a dead man near a stick.  She was told in the dream that if she came there alone, she would die, but if she brought someone with her, she would pass through safely.  WHAT?  How is so much awesomeness happening?

It's just so encouraging to see God Himself working in Fatick.  He really is invested in this place, and it looks like the time is coming when big spiritual changes will occur.  Not only are there positive things happening here, but there are a ton of horrible things happening as well.  Lots of people are dying in Fatick.  A lot of missionaries to Fatick are experiencing kidnappings and diseases and deaths.  God is moving here, and therefore Satan is moving, too.  That is awesome, because it means he is scared.

Anyway, it's awesome here in Fatick.  Big things are happening, and I'm so greatful that God let me be a part of the ongoing process of bringing this tribe and nation and people to Him.  I might not have had the flashy part of the process, but that's okay, because I'm not a flashy person.  But He used my weaknesses, and He grew me, and He blessed me by allowing me to do what little I can for Him.

God is good.  God is great.  And I kind of love Him a lot.

Mighty to Save

1.  It feels like nothing has changed.  Although it is different to fight Liz for the sheet rather than have our own bedrooms, we immediately fell into a breakfast routine of coffee (with Sussli and Vitalait) and cappuccino muffins while reading our Bibles.

2.  I got to ride the moto again.  It took no time to feel comfortable rummaging around in my purse and taking pictures and not holding on.  I love so much riding on the back of Liz's moto.

3.  We had church at the Forsythe's.  We read Scripture, sang a bunch of hymns, listened to Sally and Liz's testimonies, and took Communion.  My favorite church services are the ones here.  It's so intimate and personal and spontaneous.  Like people gathering to worship the God they love, which is how it should be.

4.  We skyped with Woodland.  When Joel heard Cheryl's voice, he sounded so in love.  Liz and I later confirmed that we both immediately thought of Slumdog Millionaire love, and we were jealous.

5.  Jonathan, the 3-year-old boy who lost a finger to a motorcycle wheel, came over for Christina to change his bandages.  His screams were heartbreaking, so I let Ethan take me to his room to play monopoly.

6.  I fell asleep in the kid's room, and Travis woke me up to take me back to Liz's.  (The Journeygirls and Hands On girls don't get to participate in our second meal.)

7.  Liz and I walked to Bigue's house.  Her sister just died, and I'm awful at dealing with death, but I think we distracted her a little and allowed her to have some fun.

8.  Liz just acquired a cold, so she napped when we returned to our house, and Melanie and I had a nice talk.  She is one of the new Hands On girls, and I really like her.  Not even faking, or trying to like someone that I'm secretly jealous of....I genuinely like her.

9.  Liz and I went to Mallory's house.  She napped as I walked to the Forsythe's house to pick up the other Woodlanders.  Mr. Lo arrived on a moto as I did on foot, so I got to say hi to him.  Cheryl and I gave him the books that Bill sent us, and he was very grateful and slightly embarrassed at Bill's generosity.

10.  Cheryl, Liz, and I walked to Mame Codou's house.  It was so wonderful to talk to her and joke around.  She and Lamba were probably my closest Senegalese friends.  She's so sweet, and I so enjoyed getting to see Cheryl meet her.  I like sharing my world with other people.

11.  Wendy worked all day in the kitchen, and the payoff was fantastic.  She made lasagna and Avantis bread for dinner with peach cobbler for dessert.  So delicious.  I might have had four pieces of bread.

12.  Melanie and Breanna and Kim were into the idea of HOPE, so we taught them Mighty To Save.  Man, those songs have so much more meaning in a city filled with people who need to be mightily saved.  Cheryl gathered us all together to pray afterward, which made me so happy she is here.  I am seriously the weak link in our group.  Everyone else is so awesome, and I'm so glad I get to work with them and see their passion.

Awesomeness

I got to see Mbagnik today!  I was hanging out with Mallory and the kids in an igloo (the sheet was clipped over a fan, and it was wonderful) when Ethan asked if I wanted to see him.  I said yes, so he fetched him from the Cisse household.  At first he was being all coy and wouldn't even come inside the gate, but I picked him up and carried him to the living room, where I threw him on the couch.  After some abuse, he said something in French.  Ethan translated that he said he didn't want me to leave again.  AAAAGGGHHH.  I love this kid.

Most of us Woodlanders went to Madame Ndours house for our first jewelry excursion.  Liz and Lamba came along as translators.  I love Lamba.  I taught her to say "See you later, alligator--after while, crocodile!"  The Ndours were chaotic and lovely.  Ten women, along with twice as many children and grandchildren, gathered outside to learn to make earrings.  Some of them did very well, and some pretty much wanted us to make the earrings for them. 

Sally gave her testimony, and it was true and great, but because we planned for it in mid-jewlery making session, people were not paying close attention.  We plan to fix that in upcoming sessions.  However, a few women really listened, and asked questions, and said they would pray for her.  My request is that all of you would pray for them--that the words of peace and assurance that she spoke to them would be another piece of kindling that God will one day set on fire.

Speaking of actual missionary things, I really want Lamba to be a Christian.  It's going to happen, I am positive.  She translates spiritual discussions for the Hands On girls regularly, as she did today.  She hangs out with Christians often.  And best of all, what shows me that God is working in her life is this:  a few days ago she had a dream in which she was on top of a mountain with Jesus and the Holy Spirit. 

!!!

I thought those sorts of things only happened in books and stories of people I would never meet.  But Lamba is dreaming about the true God, and I want so badly for her to realize Jesus' awesomeness, and soon!  So please pray that God continues to work in her heart, that she would be open to His truth, and that I would lay more kindling on her heart.

This trip is awesome.  I love the Forsythes.  I love my housemate (we danced to the credits of Slumdog Millionaire twice).  I love going to market.  I love the Woodland team.  I love the new Hands On girls.  I love the new Journeygirl.  I love my Senegalese friends.  I love being back here.

Finding Focus in Senegal

I'm back!  It has been a long couple days of traveling, but the time definitely goes faster with a team than alone.  The flights were all fine, and although we had an almost-mistake with luggage, everything came through!

It has been so incredibly awesomely wonderful to get to see everyone again.  Liz and Kim picked us up at the airport and took us to a hotel room to shower and doze.  Except we didn't doze, because they were so hilarious and random, and I'm so glad they are exactly the way I remember them, even down to Kim's cheesy motherliness. (As she watched Liz and I exclaim over the awesomeness of Hunger Games, she cooed, "It's like seeing my children back together!")

Dakar is the same.  Fatick is the same.  I remember everything, and it feels like only weeks since I left.  Even though there are five new girls running around, I still feel very much at home in Liz's house (although my room has been turned into Melanie's and Jessie's) and at the Forsythe's.  Baby Ethan put on clean clothes and parted his hair to sit on the trampoline and wait for me.  HOW CUTE.  And Melody looked absolutely stunning in her short hair and an adorable little sundress.  And Nate was snarky and sarcastic, but he asked for a second hug.

I'm so happy to be here.  I'm so happy here.  I love the slow lifestyle--during one taxi through Dakar, Christina asked, "Why are they just sitting on the curb?" to which Liz and I had no answer.  Later when the two of us were waiting for Ibrahima to pick us up in his set plass to take us to Fatick, I pointed out that we'd been sitting silently on the curb for an hour, simply enduring the heat.)

On the flight here, I was seated next to a missionary who lives near Fatick and who knows the Forsythes.  It was so incredibly uplifting to talk to him about my family, my history with missions, and my thoughts of where God is leading me.  He shared his story and encouraged me, and it was just such a clear, peaceful feeling of "yes, this is right."  I don't know why everyone doesn't want to be missionaries.  It's when we get out of our comfort zones and allow ourselves to need God that He comes through in awesome and meaningful ways.

I've only been here one day, and I don't want to leave.  Melody and I wished on a star this evening while lying on the trampoline, and I wished that I could stay in Fatick.  She said she had wished something about me, but wouldn't say what so that it would come true.

Everything feels better here.  No worries about boys or romance.  No false security in jobs or status or money.  Life is harder here, and more real.  The people here are larger than life, and passionate about God, and determined to see Him work in their lives. 

It's awesome.

Giving Up Everything for Love

A childhood friend of mine, Rebekah Warner, is about to leave for three years missionary work through an organization that intentionally sends their workers into the poorest places in the world.  If you have any desire to help support her, let me know and I'll send you the link to donate.

It got me thinking, maybe the reason we love romance stories where two people leave everything behind--money, family, status--in order to be together....maybe we love those stories because that is the kind of romance that Jesus calls us into.

Donald Miller once said that Romeo and Juliet is a very spiritual play, and I didn't really believe him until just now.

Life Update

I went back and read some posts from this summer.  Oh man, what an emotionally tumultuous time.  I was so worried about life and my future, and what kind of job I should get, and whether I should just leave America once and for all, and all sorts of other things.

I haven't really addressed my life in this blog lately.  This will be my catch-up.

Jobs.  I guess the first thing that is cool to see is that God did drop a job in my lap.  I stopped the Samaritan's Purse and Journeyman applications because they were my choice, and I wanted God to make the choice for me.  All the other big decisions in my life have just sort of happened, in this way where it looks like happy circumstance but really (I believe) is God working behind the veil.  It's nice to know that happened again.  In an economy where so many people are looking for jobs, I can only glorify God for this:

Mom:  The Dunlap library needs a children's librarian.
Me:  *email*
Me:  *call*  Did you get my email?
Boss:  Nope.  Do you want to interview?
Me:  *interview*
Boss:  You're hired!

So easy.  I did nothing but just show up.  I don't know exactly why God put me in the library, but there are many possibilities.  1)  I am making money, which is useful for giving to missionaries and charities and also for funding my own missionary endeavors!  2)  I am learning to deal with kids.  3)  I am learning new skills and becoming a leader.  4)  I am given the opportunity to talk to coworkers about my faith, which is something I am not comfortable doing.  5)  I am learning to see and think about the line between boldness and political correctness.

I think the biggest thing I've learned over the past couple months is patience.  During the first couple weeks at Bible study, Rose Fitzgerald constantly interrupted me and said, "Wait!  Just wait!"  It was very annoying, but now I realize she was right.  The process of God getting my heart right and prepared for the next big step will take time.  I've been shown examples of many awesome people who waited years for their spiritual goal to be possible.

And I'm okay with that.  I like it here in Peoria.  I'm a little scared to leave, actually, now that I'm reintegrated into my awesome church family.  I will, though.  I trust God with that.  And I know that God is using me in Peoria.  I know that I am an example at Woodland, that it's scary how many people look at me and my life.  I know that there are many ways I can serve God outside of Woodland's walls, and I am excited to see where those take me.

I'm learning to like Americans.  I'm trying not to get fed up and angry all the time.  I'm trying to beat the culture out of my head while living within it.  God is helping me with that, all Romans 12:2 style.  I'm being sanctified.  I can tell, which is encouraging.  I can also see what parts of my personality and sinfulness will be fixed in the future.

And that's the best part, I guess.  I'm seeing my life as a story, as a journey that will take a lifetime to finish.  I see the progress God has made in my life, and I see the work He will do in the future.  It's all very hope-producing, and hope is pretty much one of the most awesome parts of being a Christian.

Reclaiming Unicorns for Virgins

There's a book I want to read called Zombies vs. Unicorns, in which popular YA authors take sides and write short stories about whichever creature they find more awesome.  I haven't read the book, but I did read a review that got all excited about something strange.  The reviewer thought it was awesome that most of the unicorn stories broke from the "unicorns only trust/like virgins" trope. 

The reviewer even gleefully put forth one girl who is "definitely not a virgin" (what does that even mean?  the story is about her having sex?  she goes around remembering all her sexual exploits?) and her awesome relationship with a unicorn as society advancing and getting rid of sexual taboos and whatnot.

But you know what?  I'm a little offended.  I'm a virgin, and there is very little in my culture that affirms my life choice.  If someone wants to have sex, then there are crowds of people and loads of media who will cheer them on.  But decide to wait until marriage?  Then people look at you weird, and the media mostly doesn't realize people like me still exist.

Through all of which I mean to say, leave me my unicorns!  It's pretty difficult to stay a virgin and to be proud of it.  Is it so much to ask for a mythical creature mascot?

I'm not even arguing morals.  I just want someone (or something) on team virgin.  And a shiny horse with a horn that can impale enemies or maybe fart rainbows?  Yeah, I want that on my side.

On a related note, if unicorns and virginity are intertwined, what will happen to my unicorn hair when I eventually have sex?  Inquiring minds want to know, Dr. Hughes.

Perspective

I have been back in the United States for five months. 

In those five months, I have been in a wedding in Peoria, gone to Pennsylvania on a mission trip, kept going to New York City for the first time in my life, and headed a bit further to Virginia for a family vacation.  I have gone to Memphis to be in another wedding, then vacationed my way down to Georgia.  I have become a Sunday School teacher and a Bible study leader.  I have gotten my first adult job as a children's librarian.  I have remade friendships and refound my love for creating music.

Five months is a long time.

I lived in Senegal for five months.

Five months is a long time.

No wonder I'm going around greeting people like a crazy person.  "Hello!  Lovely wind, no?  Guess what!  I'm going to Senegal in one week and one day!  Would you like to see pictures I just printed off?  No?  Here they are anyway!  And by the way, I'm going to Senegal in one week and one day less three minutes!"

I.  Cannot.  Wait. 

Emotionally Scatterbrained

In ten days, I'm going home!  My feelings about returning to Senegal are mixed, but the overwhelming emotion is extreme joy.  I cannot wait to reach through the gate and unlatch the lock, walk through the sand, stare down a lizard or two, and wait for Liz to unlock the front door.  I can't wait to tuck mosquito netting around my bed, to wake up and drink French press coffee and cappuccino muffins while discussing the Bible and what God is teaching me.  I can't wait to rearrange my ponya so I can climb on the back of Liz's moto and round the curve by the Ndours compound, then go through the intersection, take a left, speed up and grin into the wind, then pull into the sand in front of the Forsythe's house.  I can't wait to collapse on the Forsythe's couch, to pull Melody and Ethan into cuddling me, to talk to Nate about computer games, to watch Kim explode in happiness to be around so many women her age, to watch Travis slink out of the room and then maybe come back to kick everyone's butt at cards.

But I'm also more than a little nervous.  Because what I'm imagining is a return to the past, and things have changed since I left Fatick.  Holly is no longer there, and she was so often the voice of sanity amongst a bunch of crazies.  Mallory is there, and I adore her dancing skills (and her dog), but in my head she belongs in Dara and Dakar, so it will be weird to see her in Fatick.  I'm sure the opposite is true for her of me.  And there are four new Hands On girls, and I'm struggling with the idea of  liking them, when mostly I am just raging with insecurity.  I'm sure they are better French speakers, better missionaries, more hilarious, more child-friendly, braver, more outgoing, and generally more awesome than me.

Which shouldn't matter.  I taught the kiddos in Sunday School yesterday that we shouldn't think too highly or too lowly of ourselves.  Instead we need to be confident in who God made us, finding our identity and our worth in Him.  Which is all well and good to talk about, but much harder to put into practice.

But really, I think I will love the new girls.  And I will love Mallory being a part of my Fatick world.  And I will love showing the other Woodland women where I lived for five months.  I will love seeing the friends I made and eating Senegalese food.  And I really really am looking forward to hearing people call me Siga.  I miss being Siga.

So what I'm mostly worried about is coming home.  I don't think I'll want to.  I changed so much in Senegal.  I gained a buttload of confidence.  I learned to adapt, I learned to cook, I learned to focus on God and serving Him amongst a people who don't know Him.  I made some truly awesome friends and confidants.  I had adventures and I made stories.

Senegal was one of the most exciting, awesome times of my life.  I've started getting used to America these past couple months, but I think returning to Senegal will throw a wrench in that.  Which I probably need.  I don't want to stay in America forever.  I don't want to get comfortable in my privileged white middle class world.

I hope that God will inspire me and talk to me in Senegal.  Usually I listen to Him better when I'm out of my comfort zone.  I hope that when I come back to America I won't sink into depression.  I hope this will lift me up and encourage me to live a better present instead of wanting to wallow around in the past.

Attack of Materialism

I've been trying very hard not to spend any money on myself (with exceptions for food, medicine, etc).  Not to save the money, necessarily.  I'm trying to give it away.  I have learned that you need to be careful when you tell God you want to learn to trust Him with your money, because He will give you lots and lots of opportunities to give it to friends and missionaries and organizations.

Anyway, it hasn't been too hard.  Most of my battles have been, "I need khakis.  But...I have three pairs of dress pants.  I don't really need another.  C'mon dress pants, fall to pieces so I can buy something new!"  And maybe, "I need new solid colored t-shirts.  These all have pit stains.  But...I guess I can just not raise my arms."

Then last night, a friend at church told me about her new Nook, and all the awesome things she can do with it. 

I was overcome.  I immediately got online and saw that they are only $150.  I decided to price compare, so I looked at Kindles and then that led me to iPads.  Oh man.  Price jump to $500.  But iPads are so freaking cool.  And then I thought about how my computer battery is dead, and would it really be so bad to preemptively get a new MacBook?  Surely my computer will completely die soon.  Better to be prepared, right?  A new computer is, of course, $1,000.

Ridiculous.  In half an hour I went from a Biblical financial lifestyle to completely overcome by American materialism.  I did back away from the computer, but I almost bought the Nook.  Because I travel.  And it would be handy.  And you can get all the classics for free!  And then I remembered that I work in a library.  Where everything is free. 

But it was still really hard not to buy the Nook.  And I still want new shirts.  And I want season one of Community.

I'm still so materialistic.

Conversations with Senegal

Lamba is sleeping over at Liz's house (in Fatick), so they called me while I was in handbells.  I called them back, and oh my word now I am so excited to get back to Senegal.  Here are some snippets of our conversation, because it made me laugh, and hopefully joy is contagious.

Lamba:  Tree-cee-a, are you ready Freddy?
Me:  ...?
Lamba:  Are you coming to the gun show, Tree-cee-a?
Me:  Where are you learning these things?  Did you do this, Liz?
Liz:  I would never!
Lamba:  I have a bone to pick with you, Tree-cee-a.
Me:  Okay, Lamba, we'll pick some bones.
Lamba:  Yes, we will pick a bone.

Lamba:  Did you buy me jelly beans?
Liz:  I still don't know how you heard about jelly beans, Lamba...
Me:  I just bought you some yesterday!  What will you give me?
Lamba:  What do you want?
Me:  Poulet yassa.  Every night.
Lamba:  Every night!?
Me:  Yes.  One jelly bean for one meal of chicken yassa.
Lamba:  One!  No.  Five jelly beans for...
Liz:  No no no!  Lamba, that's not a good deal.

Lamba:  You sound different, Tree-cee-a.
Me:  What?  How?
Lamba:  You sound American.
Liz:  Your voice is covered in it!
Me:  What!?  Salaam Malekum.
Lamba and Liz:  Malekum salaam!
Me:  Magifeerec.
Lamba and Liz:  BAHAHAHAHAHA.
Me:  .....What did I say?
Liz:  You just said, "Hi!  I'm fine."

Oh my gosh, I'm so ready to go back!  I think it will be impossible to leave.  Maybe I can just stay for five more months?

I Am Pro-Life

If you don't want to read a fairly vitriolic opinion of war, and the role Christians should or should not play in it, then....don't read below the link.

J. I. Packer says it best

One of the reasons I love reading multiple books at the same time is that they inevitably teach me the exact same lessons, and I can only assume that God is hitting me over the head.  While I absolutely love Shane Claiborne's The Irresistible Revolution, it's rather passionate, and some people might not like his slightly sarcastic tone.  But then I'm also reading J. I. Packer's Knowing God (which is like Tozer's Knowledge of the Holy, but on crack).  And Packer is firmly intellectual, presenting things as uncontested facts.  So I thought I would quote him, because he's hard to argue with.

"You are called to go through this world as a pilgrim, a mere temporary resident, traveling light, and willing, as Christ directs, to do what the rich young ruler refused to do: give up material wealth and the security it provides and live in a way that involves you in poverty and loss of possessions.  Having your treasure in heaven, you are not to budget for treasure on earth, nor for a high standard of living--you may well be required to forego both...

Your eyes must be open to see others' needs, both spiritual and material; your heart must be ready to care for needy souls when you find them; your mind must be alert to plan out the best way to help them; and your will must be set against the trick that we are all so good at--'passing the buck'...

None of this, of course, is strange to any of us.  We know what kind of life Christ calls us to; we often preach and talk to each other about it.  But do we live it?  Well, look at the churches.  Observe the shortage of ministers and missionaries, especially men; the luxury goods in Christian homes; the readiness of Christians in all walks of life to grumble about their salaries; the lack of concern for the old and lonely and for anyone outside the circle of 'sound believers.'"

Thinking Thoughts Again

I am currently reading a truly awesome book called The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne.  I could probably write twenty posts about the things I am learning from it, but right now my passion is mostly very obnoxious, so I only expose my mom to my rants.

But one thing I have been coming back to lately is singleness.  In the book, Shane talks about people asking him why he is still single, and is he either a homosexual or a priest?  How sad that we are so unaccustomed to single people.  I can testify to that, because already the women of my church are scheming to get me hitched.  Apparently there is an attractive guy in the Internationals class (I've seen him, and he's very small), and two women said what he really needed was for me to speak English with him.  Really?  Me?  No one else speaks English?  And of course, I asked if he was a Christian, and they said, well, he seems nice.

I can only assume that at 22, it has become pathetic for me to be single.

Shane talks about how looking back through Christianity's past, many of the most influential Christ followers were single, were married fully to Jesus.  He says their lives would have looked different (not bad, just different) had they been married.  And he quotes Matthew 19: 12, in which Jesus says, "For some are eunuchs because they were born that way; others were made that way by men; and others have renounced marriage because of the kingdom of heaven.  The one who can accept this should accept it."

I want that kind of passion.  I have recently admitted that duh, of course I want to be loved, to dedicate my life to someone and to have them build me up and protect me and encourage me.  ...And that is exactly what I already have.  Why am I looking elsewhere when Jesus is already my husband?  How must He feel when I am looking for someone else to fulfill my needs?

What it comes down to is this:  Marriage can be a great thing.  Two can always accomplish more than one, and if God sends me someone who is passionate about changing the world for the better in the same ways that I am, then I would consider marriage. 

But that's the thing.  I will not change my relationship with God to fit into a relationship with a mere man.  I cannot imagine the horror that would come from covenanting my life to another person, then finding out that they are pulling me away from what I think God wants me to do. 

So I am renewed in my desire to live fully, to spend my singleness to the greatest possible degree, traveling freely and spending my time freely, unconstrained by anyone's rules or timetables but God's.  And that is awesome.  If I can grow up to be like Mother Teresa, then um, check!  Life: success.  And she didn't have a husband.  She had God, and He was all she needed, or wanted.