Thoughts on Stability and Change...

It's getting to be that time of year when my thoughts begin to turn to what I plan on doing at the end of this school year.  This is with good reason.  Usually in working overseas, contracts are reissued in Dec or Jan so the schools can begin the hiring process for positions that will be left empty when school ends in the spring.

Sometimes, this decision has been easy.  The first time I came here, I had a feeling I would be staying for two or more years.  So signing the first contract at that time was easy.  Other decisions have been harder.

This time around, I'm not sure what my decision will be.  I'm open to staying longer...and I'm open to going away.  However, going away would have to involve finding another opportunity, having a reason to go away.  Which is entirely possible...I just, right now, don't know what that opportunity would be. 

So I have been thinking about where life is going, what I'd like my life to be...and thinking a lot about stability and what stability really means.

Is stability a nice house and two cars?  Is stability finding a place with lots of friends and family around?  Is stability in affluence or finding a place to settle after moving around?

While I would love to say yes to any one of those questions, my heart knows the rest...those illusions of things that seem so strong and powerful (while important) don't last forever.  While I won't deny that some of these things I label as "stable" are true blessings when you have them, a day will come when it will begin to fall apart...whether through death, decay, or simply the passage of time. 

When I worked in assisted living, what struck me was how temporal the stages of life really are.  Those years with small children that seem to last forever...the house that turns into a home that hears so many tears and laughter.  Eventually the children grow up...and eventually the house is downsized to something smaller...treasures are sorted and divvied out to family and friends...and eventually each and every one of us will slow down and begin to die...

Even when our lives seemed so secure for so long.

So I find myself wondering what stability really is.  Is stability holding our blessings with open hands?  Trusting God to guide us through it?  Having faith that one day we really will find restoration--friendships that last forever, unending life and health--knowing that, one day, we will not be subject to this kind of change? 

Maybe this life itself is drastically unstable.  And maybe stability only comes through holding on to the only one who isn't swayed or changed by it...

And maybe outwardly that kind of life doesn't always look all that "stable" at all. 

There are times I really want to just trust my eyes.  Let the illusions remain and convince myself they will not fail...but I don't need to look very far to see what will become of them. 

Maybe planning for the future involves getting my heart in the right place.  Seeing things clearly from that perspective...

So I don't have an answer yet about what I intend to do the next school year.  But I'll be thinking and praying and weighing pros and cons...and hopefully getting an idea of what my life should look like, or at the very least, what I hope my life to look like next...

And if I don't get the big picture, I'll just content myself with taking the very next step.  Living day by day has pros as well as cons.

Of Mountains and Valleys...

I have been reading the book Praying Jesus' Way by Curtis C. Mitchell.

In it, he discussed how Jesus often climbed mountains to pray. 


I am beginning to understand the appeal of that.


There is something about standing on a mountainside overlooking the valley that puts life into perspective.

Parade

I went for a walk this afternoon and happened across a big Christmas parade winding its way through the park.  In honor of the lighting of the giant Christmas tree there, perhaps?  So I decided to forego my walk in honor of watching the parade.

It was interesting.  I stood beside a taxi with the driver sound asleep in the front seat and a car with a really touchy alarm system that went off every once in a while as people walked past it.  I enjoyed the marching bands.  My favorite was the one with people marching in military style at the front.  Every so often firecrackers were set off around them to sound like gun fire.  Very interesting.  There was float shooting out what appeared to be a light spray of fake snow (but was really just tiny little pieces of paper).  They had the characters from the movie Up! as well as Papa Smurf in a Santa hat.  There were dance crews and floats with advertisements (all throwing out candy).  And then there were the costumes...I have to admit, as a foreigner, that the costumes left me confused.  It kind of looked like somebody raided the costume stores to use whatever was available, but maybe there was a some connection between them that, not being from here, I simply failed to understand.  Like the grown men dressed like elves that had something in their mouths that, from a distance, resembled cigarettes.  Or the girls in black dresses and wigs and candy-corn hats (that looked like they belonged in a Halloween parade instead of Christmas).  And the group of women wearing plastic masks that (I think) were intended to look like Barbie dolls.  (The rows of expressionless faces reminded me more of something from the movies--the Stepford wives or something.)  And my personal favorite: the Vikings/cavemen, a few of which appeared to have hints of clown makeup on their masks, who danced their way down the street to the beat of the music.  My best guess is that they were supposed to be dressed as the toys children would want to receive for Christmas, but I'm really not sure.

All in all, it was fun, though.  A fun prelude to what is coming at Christmas.

Community

Community is like a cozy blanket.  The kind made of fabric tied into knots.  Each little contact woven together with other contacts until, even when things around get chilly, you still feel safe and warm.  I'm thankful for community.

Life is unexpected...

the way we weave in and out of each other's lives.

I went to the Mormon temple yesterday.  It is open to the public for two weeks in honor of its construction.  I took a bus there and climbed the hill to the temple's entrance.  There I joined a group of others being led into a nearby building to watch a preliminary video.  Then, as I was waiting with my group for our turn to tour the temple, on of my students found me.  She was volunteering at the temple as a translator for any foreigners in the crowd, but since there were no foreigners at that moment, she decided to stay with me as we walked through the temple.

It was very interesting.  She answered so many of my questions, giving all kinds of details that were not included in the official tour, pointing out the hand-woven carpets, the paint made with real gold and chandaliers made of crystal, as well as answering my questions about the customs and how the temple itself is used.  I felt like I had my own personal tour. 

Then, as we left, I stopped to take a survey.  Then I chatted with a missionary from Alaska also volunteering at the temple. 

Then I ran into some friends who gave me a ride home since, during the tour, it had gotten quite dark...

A wonderful evening filled with friendship...

And a phone call from another friend, who received a job offer in the U.S. and will be leaving us soon.  Bittersweet.  I'm excited for her but so sad to see her go. 

Not that she will be gone entirely, but it will be different...

There is a part of me that wants to cling and make life stable, but I am learning that part of contentment is letting go.  Not completely, and I don't mean not caring--but letting it be, even when it's hard...accepting the ebb and flow because, after all, all these pieces will eventually be made right in the end.  The coming and going is a friendship added, a lesson learned.  And I've seen over the years how people from the past can make new appearances.  They never really go away completely, they just add to the whole.  They may seem to disappear for a while, but after a while, they often come back again.  Or in a different way.  But they're always there, somewhere, making a difference even in their waiting.

happenings...

There was a half-marathon in town on Sunday.  Lots of roads were blocked off since it went all around the city.  I went to the early service at church only to find out there was no service that early last week.  Instead, since the bishop was coming, they were combining the English and Spanish services into one and people were going to be confirmed.  So I just hung out at the church and helped/watched as the people in charge prepared for the bishop's visit.  Apparently, when the bishop is there, there is a slightly different protocol that needs to be followed, so I had an up-close-and-personal view of the preparations for the whole shebang.  The church was unusually crowded, and there was a lot more English included to accommodate for those who were joining the church from the first service.  It was kind of nice to hear the scripture readings in English, too, for a change.  While I can follow the Spanish pretty well, the English seems to have a more direct pathway to my heart.  The service started late, though...the bishop was delayed in arriving to the church because of all the roadblocks for the half-marathon.  But, in the end, he arrived and all went smoothly.

Today, I happened to ask one of my classes, "At one point did you learn it was appropriate to talk when the teacher is talking?"  And after rephrasing my question for them so they understood what I was asking, they actually gave me an answer.  They said they had had a bad experience with a teacher the year before, so they decided to stop listening to her.  I nicely explained to them how it made me feel when they talk when I do, and after that they were super-polite.  It was a question I hadn't planned on asking, but in the end, it went really well.

And we have a student from Sweden staying with us now through the holidays.  And another person from Guatemala City arrived...it's nice to have a full house again after several weeks of life being more quiet. 

Thoughts on "home"...

I went for a walk this afternoon, to get some exercise and think through some things...

Like where my life is going...
Whether or not I think I want to sign on to come back next year...
And if I don't come back next year, then what?..
And what it means to have a home...
And what is the true meaning of family and community...
And is it truly possible to even begin to find all of that here and now, on this side of eternity?

I thought of Abraham and how he was promised a homeland yet lived his entire life in a tent.  And I was reminded of a song I remember hearing when I was young:

This world is not my home, I'm just a passin' through.
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.
The angels beckon me from heaven's open door,
that's why I can't feel at home in this world anymore...

And the MercyMe song:

I close my eyes, and I see your face
If home's where my heart is, then I'm out of place
Lord, won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now...

And all those people in Hebrew's hall of faith that received the promise but never saw it come to pass during their lifetime...

So where would I go from here?  What would I do?  Would any other place I went simply bring about more of the same? 

Or is life simply a matter of letting go?  Learning to live without that promise...believing it will come yet waiting and waiting and waiting...waiting for eternity so we can begin to see?

But if that's the case, then why did Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead?  When Martha said he would rise again when the Lord came, why didn't Jesus just say, "okay"?

Yet he let John the Baptist die.  He didn't reattach his head the way he repaired the ear of the servant in the Garden of Gethsemane.

So what is the meaning of life as we live it?  (Don't worry, I don't intend to sum that up in one simple blog entry. :-)  What are we doing?  Why are we here?  And where is the balance between living life and stepping back to merely accept it?  When do we dare to dream? 

As I was contemplating these things, I came across a bush with small yellow flowers.  Slightly wilted (with dry season upon us the flowers are past their prime), yet still pretty.  I stopped to look them over.  Enjoy the burst of color before moving on my way.  Stopping to "smell the flowers," one could say. 

I came here expecting to learn more about home, but I still find myself almost entirely without answers. 

I still don't have my answers, and I don't really know what else to say.  So perhaps it's a good time to end this blog entry, at least for today.