Inspired. Again.

So, months have gone by and suddenly I feel inspired to start to write a bit again. I wonder what the theme of this spurt might be. It seems the last one was me just trying to process all the pain I was feeling. Not that the pain is gone now, but at least I feel like I am on the road to healing in a way I wasn't several months ago.

Monday morning. I have more energy today simply because I stayed home yesterday. Seems more and more I recognize that I am an introvert. I get energy just from being alone. Yesterday, things just fell into place for me to do just about nothing. Sure, I drank my coffee in the morning; relaxed in the afternoon and even exercised. Then Amazing Race at 7pm followed by looking at pictures and crying because I miss Peru in the evening. I realize that I was truly happy there doing what I was doing, living where I was living and being with who I was with. My smiles were bigger and more genuine.

Today, I work and will stay to work out since I am on the journey to get healthy. I feel much better than I did a month ago, I have lost 10 pounds and inches off just about everywhere on my bod. But, I still have a ways to go!

Anyway, just felt like I needed to say (to no one) that I am back.

gone

When you decide to only bring six bags back from Peru, you really do expect that all six will make it. I mean really, six bags isn't much and you just hope for the best when it comes to having those things in your possession again. But, no! One got stolen back in February. It is just now that I am beginning to recall things that were packed into that bag and am kind of sad for my losses. I suppose this is just my way of acknowledging my loss.

Green Letters - But not just any old copy of this. It was the copy that I had used to disciple a few girls and it was full of notes. I had also sent it to Kim so she could add her notes. It was a precious journey that many had taken. Gone.

The Lord is My Shepherd - A book that Kim and I read through together in different hemispheres. I learned so much about psalm 23 and it was something I had been looking forward to reading once again upon arriving back here in the states. Gone.

A Woman After God's Own Heart - Another book by the same author. I called it my wife book. It seemed to be everything you needed to learn about being a godly wife and included so many subjects that I had to really wrestle with. Great teachings and something that again, I was looking forward to. Gone.

Large Workout Ball - Oh I have the manual. I have the DVD. But that actual ball to use to exercise with? Gone.

Dresses - My cute summer dresses, ones I hardly used there in Peru and was honestly looking forward to using here in the US, were packed into a ziploc bag. Now? Gone.

White blouse - I remember this one because it was the same one we had bought for Jael for her graduation from the Bible Training. I bought myself one because I liked it so much and it made me think of her every time I used it. Gone.

Metro Cookbooks - I went a little crazy when the small series of cookbooks went on sale at Metro and bought as many as I could find. I packed some with me in the first bags and the rest went into the last bag. I hadn't even looked through some of them, saving them until I arrived back here in the states as somewhat of a present to me. Gone.

Ceviche Cookbook - Sadly, one of my favorite cookbooks I think was packed into that bag since it would come later and I just didn't need it right away. I think that too is...gone.

For now, those are the things I remember. I will add more if I think of more.

ramblings

I need more faith. I need faith to believe that one day I will be free. Faith to believe that one day I will be whole. Faith to believe that one day I will be healed. Faith to understand what it really means to be redeemed. Faith to really receive love. Faith.

Today I feel like I am at a loss. I am frustrated with who I am. I wish I were different. I wish I were nicer, friendlier, kinder and so on. I am frustrated with how I look. I feel like I exercise more, eat less, take vitamins and drink water, just to stay the same weight. I am frustrated with my life. I wish I left as though I had more control over things in my life. I sense that I should be accomplishing more each day and it just isn't happening. Then I worry that others think I should be accomplishing more each day and I feel guilty. I really feel frustrated by all of this.

Today, I wanted to just cook. Cook a great lunch. Just like I used to. But the right ingredients are not available. The people are not here to eat it. I feel like I cannot even enjoy it. It made me long for my kitchen, my food, the things that are familiar and comfortable. Sure, I have people tell me often to cook for them or invite them over. But it is not the same. Now it feels forced, not like it did every single day there.

My heart is hurting because I am scared that I will never get out of this feeling. I am scared that I will feel a sense of loss forever. I am scared my heart will never feel whole. Truthfully, it makes me want to give up, to give in. Like a why bother. I feel like no one even cares to know me deeply so why try to go there with people.

Sometimes, it is just hard for me to be around people so consistently, for so many hours. I like my time away, my space. I can keep myself busy for long periods of time, but these moments come and my heart aches for where I wish I were - and that is not here.

I am growing angry and almost feel like I care less about some things. I am losing myself in the mess of emotions. And I don't even know what to do about that. I can pretend to some degree to be myself, but I am not even comfortable with me. I am hurting inside and I truly don't know what I am supposed to do about it. Do I reach out to someone? What am I supposed to say? This is when it is true, I wish I could hand out cue cards with questions written on them for people to ask me the right thing at the right time.

Again, my faith feels small right now. I want to believe this will not be like this forever.

Belonging

Well there is no time like the present to just jump back in and start to share. Sure I would love some great tale to tell, some thought to convey. But when it all comes down to it, I really have nothing profound. I am on a journey and cannot exactly see the destination and truthfully just wish I could go back. I am right in the midst of processing some pics from around my apartment in Peru and it makes me miss all of the sights and sounds, even smells of life there. I would love to pick myself up and just head back. Now.

I suppose I am struggling right now with belonging. I know it it the cry of our heart to belong. And I know as Christians that we technically belong to the family of God. But when family here in the US means the same last name and not much else, being part of that family is similar. Sure, we can meet on Sundays but really we just go about our week without much thought for the other person.

So belonging in my context? In many ways I really no longer "belonged" in Peru. The work I had done came to an end because the vision got distorted and sidetracked. So there was not really much to belong to. Now I am back here in the states. Sure, I am even back in the city I left from. But I continue to ask myself where do I belong? I am growing to hate that question because I have yet to answer.

I guess this will be a question I continue to seek the answer to. Where do I belong?

Where do you belong?

a knock on the door

The other night I was sitting at a friends house and there was a knock on the door. She was expecting more friends to show up. She (and others) yelled from the back of the house "Come In!!!"

I was really caught off guard hearing these yells and the words tumbled from my mouth, "That is so American!" Others heard me and wondered what I was trying to say. To me, it seemed so American, so impersonal, so...rude...to just yell people into the house. No greeting. No effort. No nothing.

I know, this is just the way here. It is not a point of offense but more, it was a surprise. Her friends came in, everyone seemed to greet one another, without the typical kiss on the cheek of course.

Those at the table asked more questions, "Do you always go to the door?" "Is there ever a time that people just walk in the house?" "That isn't common in Peru?" I realized that I had started quite a conversation.

answer

People everywhere all the time ask why I moved back from Peru. I try to explain that the ministries I was working with had come to an end and it was time for me to return to a place of community. I jumble up all my words in an effort to explain the heartache I have in my heart. I try to convince people that it is for the best while in reality I think I am convincing myself of that very thing.

But, why don't I say it as it is? I am back in the states to stay aligned with God. Simple and sweet, yet oh so true. God showed me months before that I would have satisfaction through obedience. I really must trust His words in that.

Satisfaction Through Obedience...it is what will heal my heart.

encouraged by cumbia

Speaking of water shortage and water restrictions, Downy has created a special cumbia song to encourage Peruvians to cut back on their water use. People too often go without in many parts of Lima and Peru. Would watching this help you remember to turn off running water?

water restrictions

After I got home last night and catching the last few minutes of american idol, I also watched the first few minutes of the local news. (Which by the way I really miss watching in Peru!) The story that caught my eye was about the new water restrictions being enforced in Folsom, CA.

I know about water restrictions and was curious what type of restrictions are adopted in a state which by comparison, has a lot of water. The restrictions have to do with landscape watering. The city will being to monitor which days you water on and if your house address is an even number, you can water certain days, and odd numbers have their reserved days. So essentially, there is water, they just want people to be more mindful of how it is being used.

Inside, I could only chuckle. For almost a year in Peru, my water was shut off by 3pm - daily! If you were to try the tap, nothing would come out. I would set my alarm to return to my house about a half hour before in order to fill the tea kettle for hot water and a bucket for washing dishes later along with a few other pots in case I wanted to cook something.

I kind of hated this time because it seemed to attract a lot of flies! The dirty dishes would often sit in the sink overnight and the first thing I would do upon waking up (after starting the coffee) was wash dishes. I just couldn't stand to go to bed with a full sink. But sometimes, there just wasn't any more water. Nothing seemed to ever feel really clean because you wanted to use as little water as possible. Many nights I chose not to cook because I didn't want to clean up afterward.

What I learned to appreciate were Sundays and Mondays. After church on Sundays, I had a window of time that the water would still be on. I would rush home to use my time to cook or bake something special that day. The entire day on Monday would be dedicated to my kitchen until the water shut off at 3pm of course.

Water restrictions in Folsom...we'll see if it helps!

size vs skill

So I couldn't help but wonder last night as I watched these giants take the court, is their success based on size or skill? They fit into the basketball stereotype simply because they are tall. But does one have to play really well or do they just have to be really tall?

Made me think about many football players that are really just big. Again, I am not even sure they have much skill, I just see that they are big. Size vs skill?

After watching soccer for so long, I am always impressed by the skills that soccer players possess. The fancy footwork always dazzles me well. I suppose they are the shorter of the bunch of sports players.

I really don't know much about sports playing, but I was just curious...do people choose what kind of sport to enter based on size or skill?

death & grieving

When I mentioned that at the memorial service of their father, my friend and her brother made those in attendance laugh; my Peruvian friend found that strange. "I suppose we Peruvians are mas emocionales." I realized there are several differences between death in the different countries.

In Peru, the funeral and burial is almost immediate, within 24 hours typically. In years past, the chemicals were not available to inject dead bodies for the duration of funeral planning that I have seen in the US. In Peru, it was a quick service and quick burial to prevent the spread of disease. I have heard of stories in which those that came to do autopsies were asked to write false dates and times in order to give friends and family time to arrive. Although the burial may be rapid, transportation is not!

Grief and mourning seem to be different. There are times when I think Peruvians do not show very much emotion. I remember asking if my friend cried at his brother's funeral. I guess I just do not see emotion among Peruvian men. Ever. So, naturally one would wonder if that emotion would be released upon news of a death.

But then here's the catch, I think as Americans we seem to be much more deeply affected by death. Someone may die in our lives and we always go back to it. We talk about it and how it changed and affected us. Peruvians seem to know death is simply part of life. Maybe Americans think that their power extends to immortality too?

Anyway, back to my friend and her brother and their memorial service humor. They shared about their father and told the tales of their lives. Their father was a funny man and that came out in each and every one of the stories. Those that had come to pay their respects remembered their father in a similar way and enjoyed a trip down memory lane. There was no disrespect, of course they will miss him, of course they are sad. But for a brief time, they chose to remember the great things about their father.

Grief is an interesting thing and it makes us do interesting things. I like the custom we tend to have that we bring tales and stories which help people remember those that have passed in the most positive way. We walked away from saying goodbye with tears in our eyes and a smile on our lips.

smoker

Cigarette smoke makes me ill. Gives me allergies to be exact. You know, I think as a child I was on antibiotics for a whole year because of smoke allergies. Thanks to my grandmother and campfires, I was all medicined up month after month. Mmmm...gotta love those antibiotics. Anti-health is more like it.

Oh, anyways, the cigarettes. So I was riding back tonight on the bus from the water park. A young guy got on and sat down near the front. Puff. The smoke filled the air and blew out because of the open windows. I thought the best. He must of gotten on the bus and taken the last puff of his cigarette before getting on. The puff was just what was leftover. Benefit of the doubt, right?

Puff. Another one? That surely meant he had a cigarette in his hand. On the bus. Didn't anyone tell him it was prohibited to smoke in public places? Someone had a cigarette right behind me at the game the other night. Yuck! I kept turning around and coughing, hating the smoke that was being blown my way. Less than a few days and I felt like I was in the same situation again.

I had to think for a moment that in all of six years, I had never run across a situation like this. No one had ever gotten on a bus and smoked. No cigarette smoking bus riders. Not one. I guess for that I can be glad. Right?

Well, anyways, back to the bus tonight. The lady in the seat behind him asked him loudly and clearly to put his cigarette out. No response. Nothing. No words. No look. No nothing. No response. He told the cobradora that he wanted off at the next paradero. No excuse me, I'm sorry. Nothing.

So he got off at the next stop. He didn't look upset. Not ashamed. Nothing. Weird.

the bank

So, I went with a friend to open a bank account today. He had never had one and really his only knowledge of them stemmed back to a time when the president allowed the economy to get so bad that anything anyone put in the bank, they wound up losing. All your savings, lost.

Reminds me of the Peruvian who spent years and years in the US working to provide for his family. After more than 10 years, he traveled with cash. Cash in hand of thousands and thousands of dollars. He was stopped in an airport in Florida. The money was taken from him and he was charged on suspicion of drug trafficking or mafia connections of sorts. Everything he had saved, lost on his way home.

Or the couple here in Lima who saved and saved and saved their money in order to retire and have provisions. The money was all stored in a small box in the headboard of their bed. Thousands and thousands of soles. Everything they would live off of in their golden years. Gone in an afternoon.

I cannot speak to the wisdom of traveling with that much cash or saving that much cash in a box when I know the reality of the fear of saving in a bank that Peruvians have. It is sad, to be truthful. They are fearful of what them may lose and their security revolves around what they can hold onto.

So at the bank today, the papers were signed. The account was opened. And then I began to hear the story of how him mom had lost everything when he was a child. She had saved her money in a bank account and one day, because of the spiraling economy, she had nothing left.

The president who was in power at that time has returned to lead Peru. Personally, I know he is doing great things trying to advance Peru. But, because of others fears, there are still doubts in my mind. If you run the risk of losing it all, is it better to save your money in a box rather than the bank?

frenzy

So, the packing is coming along. There are moments in which I feel as though there are a lot of bags and moments when I feel as though everything will fit in just a few bags. I have packed a few bags only to realize that repacking in a different suitcase would be strategic. So, the packing saga continues.

I was able to collect my passport yesterday which was highly advantageous since now I can go and close one of my bank accounts here. If it is not one thing, it is another.

I have to go a drop bags off to kindly ship to the mountains. Bags of donations of clothes, scarves, etc. And another bag to the jungle. I do still have some things left to buy, namely at the grocery store.

This evening though, I am headed to a fountain park! According to Guinness Records, it is the largest fountain park in the world. I am super excited about that!

Oh, and one other note, I HATE cockroaches!!!!!!!

Oh, but on a good note...it rained yesterday in the evening. And then rained last night during the night. I enjoy the rain, awake or asleep and am so glad to have seen it here just a few days before leaving.

That's all for now. Maybe more later.

black packets

It was like a scene out of a movie. We were standing in a bad part of town, after the game waiting for the bus. The police populated every corner, but were occupied with things other than the safety of the people, like giving out directions when we asked.

Two older gentleman were walking towards us, but not necessarily together. A younger man, light skin came up behind them. There was something in his eyes that struck me - an insatiable hunger? That he didn't belong there? Desperation? Whatever it was, I had that sense that something wasn't right with him or with what he was about to do. Not that I knew what it was.

The Gringo called out to one of the gentleman. I cannot recall what he said. Gentleman #1 turned to Gentleman #2 and said something. They both stopped. The Gringo caught up. They sort of huddled. Gentleman #2 pulled something out of a bag or his pocket, I don't remember. They were square, black, flat packets, let's say the size of a wallet. No, smaller. Gentleman #2 handed a packet to the Gringo and to Gentleman #1 (I think).

The Gringo didn't look any happier. He was still desperate. He quickly turned away and walked back where he came from. The two gentleman spoke a few words to one another. A taxi was hailed. They both got in, one in the passenger seat and one in the back.

Normal would have been them both riding in back. But nothing was normal about what had just happened.

What do you think was in those packets?

peru vs. paraguay

Last night, I went to see the Peru-Paraguay soccer game. It was a friendly game, so to speak, since there was nothing on the line for the win. Does that make players relax and play better or relax and play worse? No one will ever know with the Peru team since the score was essentially the same as always.

I am always amused by Chemo. He is a cool kid. Hands in his pockets the entire game, never yelling, not even really coaching. But I imagine it is all unleashed in the locker room. Are coaches better when they stay quiet on the field and let it loose in the locker room, or is it better to have them yell from the sidelines and get it all out there?

I suppose the same question could be posed of soccer parents. I have seen a few crazies in my day.

letdown

So, I had plans this evening to go out to dinner with a friend. I had looked forward to the restaurant for the last couple of days. They have *really* good food. I even called this afternoon to be sure it would be open at that hour.

But after a few hours of conversation, which was all fun and lively, she declined. I understood, I was tired as well and I knew that home for her was the other side of town.

However, I am hungry. And bummed. Anyone want to go with me to an incredible steak dinner? Right now?

as the day dawns

So, last night as I am trying to sleep I was awakened by a visitor. Something had bit me on my arms and back but left me scratching like crazy. I turned the light on trying to figure out what had happened. I saw a mosquito on the wall, but wasn't quick enough to kill it.

I couldn't help but wonder...don't I live in Lima? Isn't it the desert? Why are mosquitos invading my room? I felt like I was back in the jungle. At least in the morning, the itching sting was gone.

But, because I was tense all night I have a horrible crick in my neck/upper back. Not fun. Haven't taken anything except coffee for that but I may need something stronger.

Speaking of coffee, while I was trying to make it this morning I looked down and laying on its back by my (empty) trash can was a 4cm long cockroach. I have been fighting them like mad in my kitchen (thanks to my neighbors!) and didn't see many yesterday. So this mornings find was quite disturbing. It was belly up probably from the poison but rest assured I used my Raid on it as well. Can't be too careful when it comes to giant cockroaches.

Today I need to get more errands done and then people are coming over to buy some things and go out to dinner. That is the funny thing, I put my for sale list out to the world and truthfully feel bothered when the "world" wants to come by to look at my things. Is that strange? I wish garage sales were big here, it would be easier to take everything to the street and sell it there. I think I feel awkward coordinating a time and having strangers visit me. Hmmm...maybe the sale ads were not such a good ides after all?

More later.

more work for me

So there is an interesting difference of things I would like to share. It has to do with service related things. Here I am, trying to cancel all my services - phone, internet, cable, etc and it seems like I have to do a lot of work to get them to cancel and give me a final bill. I have to follow up with phone calls and check to be sure things were accomplished.

Case in point, today I called to ask the cable company what my final bill would be. I have the last month but was under the understanding that they were going to bill me for the first couple of days of February. When I call I learn that the line I asked to be cut on Jan 26th was never done. So the guy tells me that in fact he will have someone cut it but that he cannot give me a final billing amount until it is cut.

So, I call to cancel. They tell me they will. I call to find out the final amount and learn they haven't done what they said they would. What does that mean for me? I have to call again to see if it has been cut, I have to try to get a final bill, and I have to return to the bank to pay whatever that final amount is.

Somehow, more work for me and less for them.

The tricky thing is although I canceled and got a confirmation code, it would not be unusual that they continue to bill me, rack up charges and then later down the road I find out I owe hundreds of dollars. So, the work pays off for me but boy is it frustrating!

I will keep you posted.

Test of Patience

So maybe I haven't been as good at writing as I thought I might be with the start of this New Year. But if you will allow me the pleasure of writing about some of my daily occurrences and happenings, it may help me even if it doesn't you.

Today, my patience was tested. I decided to get a last cut & color here in Peru. I went to the salon I have gone to over the last years. I usually visit twice a year so often I get the lecture of how I should have returned sooner. But, they remember me and I don't usually have to explain myself much. I just tell them what I want and the gal did it without a lot of questions.

Today was different. The same gal wasn't there to do my hair. Gal #2 seemed nice and friendly so I was happy to have her help me. Except once she started, I found her unsure of herself and doing things that I later questioned.

While sitting in the seat, I couldn't help but think how disappointing it is to go to a place where you feel as though you are known and you know them - only to realize it is all different. You have to explain yourself, question things, and most of all, have patience. Gal #2 took twice or three times as long to do what I asked for. She looked for reassurance repeatedly. I had to settle into a place in my heart that I did not grow frustrated but instead understood it was okay to slow down and chat a bit. When I left, I gave her a kiss on the cheek, a normal Peruvian goodbye for a friend, but not super traditional for your hairstylist. I didn't even think about it, I just did.

Now as I write this, I understand the lesson. I will face these same feelings in less than 10 days. I will return to a place I left when I was known and I knew others only to find that I have to exaplin myself, question things and most of all have patience. Hmmm...interesting.

Needs

We recently traveled to a small town on the side of the road. We went to deliver some Christmas goods like food and presents. I returned bewildered and still I wonder why we went.

The very first person to greet us began to explain how the mine waste sat on the other side of the road and when the wind kicked up, all of the pollution stirred around in the air. Could I do something about it she asked.

I went along meeting other people, the leaders from nearby towns. One of the first to introduce herself came armed with two letters, both asking for us to take on projects of building and repairing things.

They gave us a tour of the town and as we looked at the problems left by the mine, someone asked me what we were going to do about it. At that point I began to explain that I know nothing about mining, nothing about the leftover chemicals, that I could see the problem and had no plan to take care of it.

I was shown around the medical post. "We need a scale, we need oxygen tanks, we need bedsheets..." The list went on and on. They want a full running medical post when the nearest hospital is about 5 minutes away. Walking.

We went into the school's classrooms and they showed me the kids work and pointed out that the ceilings were deteriorating. I saw two spots where things had comes loose. As we were about to leave the school grounds, they decided that every town leader would send a list of the town's needs so they could compile it and submit it to us.

Truthfully, I wanted out. Out of these conversations, out of town! To wrap things up, they asked that I would say a few words. God had been speaking to me as I walked through the town. They really had many things, most apparent was the fact that the building were all made of cement. One town away was complete adobe. The cement buildings were from the mining days and remain to this day. So many towns we visit have no cement buildings but are homes with dirt floors, straw walls and roofs that are literally falling apart. I challenged them to see what they had instead of what they didn't have. Every single town could draft a list of the town needs. Even I have a list of things I need to do, repair or get for my home. But that does not mean that every visitor that walks through my door is shown the list and then asked, "Now what are you going to do about it?"

My heart hurt that day. Hurt for the fact that they are lost. Hurt for the fact that they look to people instead of to God. Hurt for the fact that a single mom wanted me to take her daughter to give her a better life. Hurt for the fact that they saw only their own needs and not those of people around them.