Getting into Gear

  
   After a wonderful trip to Budapest, I feel like my summer has officially ended and my season of preparation for South Sudan has officially begun.  I am no longer editing my support letter-- I am sending it out to people.  I am no longer meeting with my church's mission team-- I am actually going out and talking to people.  I am making presentations about what is going on in South Sudan, what I will be doing, and how the church can be involved.  It feels good to be taking steps towards this goal.  I am trying my hardest not to view support raising from a secular perspective.  That would be easy to do, given my past experiences with fundraising.  It is easy to view every relationship and potential conversation as a convenient way to accomplish my goals.  "And why shouldn't I?" I ask myself.  This is something that I am extremely passionate about; teaching in South Sudan is a dream come true for me, and I would like for everyone I know to be a part of the realization of that dream.

But when does it become too much of a focus?  
I know preparing for Mundri should be a focus, and it does require work on my part.  However, with my obsessive tendencies, it can become the only thing on mind.  I don't want to start praying that a hoard of teachers will come down with the flu, but I am in serious need of some part time substitute teaching work.  I need to get into a daily routine of work, so my work with World Harvest Mission involves more daily action, instead of daily obsessions and waiting around.

On the up side, I listened to a lecture from Rose Marie Miller this morning.  Her husband founded WHM, and the two have spent their lives traveling all over the world and housing people in need.  She gave her testimony, spanning decades of her life, and she mentioned how quickly she can forget gospel truths that she had once held so dear.  That was encouraging to hear; I thought I was the only forgetful person who does not take to heart what she hears.  It is good to know that I'm not the only person who needs to be taught the same lessons and reread the same passages over and over again.    

Buda... and Pest!

     In a couple days I will embark on a mini vaycay to Budapest to visit the boyfriend.  We chose to meet in this city almost haphazardly, typing in random cities on expedia and seeing which airfare ended up being the cheapest.  Of course, a trip to Europe is anything but cheap; however, we weren't going to drain our bank accounts by meeting in London or Spain, just because they are more familiar.  Besides, we strive to get away from familiarity when visiting another country.  Budapest will certainly be a new cultural experience for me.  Hungary, Budapest in particular, is a bit of a mutt, taking from Roman, Ottoman, Austrian, Romanian, and Russian culture.  The Hungarian language is a complicated mix of Turkish, Mongolian, and Siberian languages.  To me, it sounds a lot like Turkish.  At the beginning of the twentieth century, Budapest was the center of Bohemia.  Hungarian literature thrived and the new Parliament building was the largest in the world.  It was the first European city to have underground rail systems.  Progress slowed during the middle of the century, due to war and Communist rule.  However, in recent years, Pest has been making a comeback, as more and more art museums and theatres are popping up.  Many abandoned buildings in the predominantly Jewish District VII have been converted into trendy "ruin pubs."  I am excited to see Szimpla Kert, one of the first ruin pubs in Budapest.  I have attached a couple of pictures of the things I am most excited about seeing in the towns of Buda and Pest. 

  

An Education

  
     It is an odd feeling to be sitting in a coffee shop typing at my leisure, while the first day of the school year is currently happening.  I woke up around 6:30, just to use the bathroom, and realized if I had been teaching I would be anxiously waiting in my classroom at that moment.  All of my decorating and lesson planning and encouraging self-talk would be thrown out the window, as it comes down to how I choose to love and interact with my students.  It all comes down to what my expectations are for my students and if I am willing to put up a fight for that standard.  It is a difficult fight-- one that teachers must battle with parents, systems, culture, their students, and even themselves.  To teach, you have to have thick skin-- not necessarily to manage poorly behaved students (which is still my biggest concern) but to keep persisting for your students to achieve and learn the most that you think they are capable of, against all odds.  It is a matter of how much fight you have in you.  Unfortunately, many of us chose this career path unaware of the aggressive undertone in education.  We chose teaching for the subject matter, for the learning, for the romanticized notion of attentive (and only sometimes naughty) children sitting on wooden benches in the town school house who would leave at the bell and go home to have taught facts and mores reiterated by their parents.  Clearly, this isn't the case.
     It is easy to become discouraged by all of the striving and the sense that education is still backsliding.  However, I still have hope that as long as human beings have that curious nature in them, there will be learning and there will be progression.  God has given us minds that need to be stimulated.  This jumped out at me when I was watching The Miracle Worker.  When Helen suddenly makes the connection that the particular movement of her fingers is a symbol for a specific thing, she goes wild.  She runs around touching everything she can get her hands on, eager to know the "name" for everything.  This movie is so good.  It is quite the tear-jerker, and I recommend it to pretty much everyone, from young kids, to adults.
    I'm not going to expect such dramatic results when I teach over in South Sudan.  God will work through me however He pleases to.  However, I am looking forward to doing my part in continuing this fight for learning amidst a broken world.
Scene from The Miracle Worker       

If It Makes You Happy

Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about contentment.  It has been preached about at my church, written of in the books I’m reading, and mentioned in conversations I have had with friends.  This influx has made me super-introspective of my own discontent, as well as sensitive to the discontent I notice in the people around me.

My pastor, Erik, mentioned that contentment is easier to find in communities that give and receive more freely.  I completely agree.  Contentment happens when you can accept the grace that has been given to you. When you have been blessed with gifts from those around you in your time of need, you are more willing in the future to give of yourself, your time, and your money.  I would so love to live in a society that gives and receives more easily.  But if these actions don’t refer back to the cross, it is easy for them to lose any permanent meaning and can quickly fall into discontent.  Even in communal living situations, which I deem as the most content and freeing, there is brokenness.  I’ve heard of married couples splitting apart unexpectedly, as one desires something new in their life.  People argue over ideology and can pass judgment.  We are broken people.  I guess we are prone to search for that something to mend us. 

Growing up, I loved the Sheryl Crow song, “If it Makes You Happy.”  The main thing I remember about this song is the music video, in which Sheryl sings at a museum of natural history, among the stuffed foxes and polar bears.  She is wearing what I thought was an uber-cool polyester shirt that I would have spent all of my Christmas ‘96 money on to obtain.  Besides the video, I always thought the refrain rang true.  She says,

            If it makes you happy,

            It can’t be that bad;

            If it makes you happy,

            Why the hell are you so sad.   

Over the years, I’ve had many conversations with friends who have struggled with depression.  I think it is something that everyone can relate to, even if it is on some small level.  Those with depression spend so much time in pursuit of what can make them happy.  “Happy.”  That word is so fleeting.  As great a feeling as it is, I try not to put too much stock in emotions.  Lately, I’ve been working on being content.  Not necessarily happy, but content.  I’m trying not to desperately cling to those temporal things that we associate with happiness.  For me, those things can look like success in relationships, in my job, good finances, a fit body, the enjoyment of a good meal.  With that clinging only comes the uncertain feeling of knowing that these things could easily disappear.  I’ve been working on being content with God’s provision and His plan in my life.  He gives me grace, and it is free each day.  I know that that is all I need.  It is just hard telling that to my emotionally-driven psyche.  

What am I doing?

This week, after starting out with much enthusiasm and hope, has left me feeling bleak and pessimistic.  I have only accomplished about half of what I was hoping to do.  It seemed as though every simple task I needed to accomplish was complicated by my lack of organization and forgetfulness.  Initial forms that I should have turned in to World Harvest headquarters weeks ago were finally sent off after much corresponding and binder-searching.  The thought of raising all of the money and receiving all of the training that I need by the new year seems like a Herculean task.  Also, the guilt over not having a steady job has been weighing pretty heavily upon me.  After a full summer off, I have had more than enough time to recover from my pseudo-traumatic first year of teaching middle school.  I need to work, or I will feel useless.  Granted, I know people's worth are not found in the job they do.  However, people need to learn to be good stewards of their time.  That always seems to be harder for me the more time I do have.  When I'm busy I get into a rhythm and go.  Currently, I feel like I haven't even gotten my stride.  Speaking of strides, I may stop by my old alma mater tomorrow morning and catch the cross-country team during one of its summer morning practices.  It has been years since I have seen my old coaches.  Maybe reliving the glory days of when I was named "most dedicated" athlete will encourage me to pick up the pace in my path to Africa.  If not, I may bribe myself with a Starbuck's hazelnut latte if I can sit there for a couple hours and crank out some work.  (Are there any local tea or coffee places in the West End of Richmond???) As much as I do love my usual warm beverages, it would be lovely to branch out to a local, family owned place.

Changes for Jennifer

If my life was a part of the American Girl book series, then the events of the past couple of months would have to comprise the first few chapters of the Changes for... book.  This is the book in which the main "American girl" takes the steps to follow her convictions, even if they lead her to new and unfamiliar territory.  Granted, in these stories, the girl is about 11 years old and she is usually just moving to a new town with her nuclear family.  Her changes consist of attending a new school, or providing moral support for her father in his new career choice.  My changes may seem a bit more jarring, but they have been on my mind for as long as I can remember.  I have always wanted to do work overseas-- not work that pays me, but work in which I simply rely on the provision of God.  In my doubting heart, I need these experiences to demonstrate time and time again who is really in control of things.  I feel blessed to finally have the opportunity to experience this as a missionary.

In January of 2012, I will hopefully be on a plane heading to Mundri, South Sudan.  There, I will be joining a team who has been there for several years.  I am excited to be joining this group of people, who, as I have observed through various blog readings, seem to be an energetic and fun group of people (they have a penchant for themed parties, which makes me VERY happy).  Along with agricutural and water projects, this team focuses on education.  They are working on strengthening a system that has been broken by civil war and a lack of rescources.  The team assists the Sudanese teachers in the area by providing workshops, giving them educational support, and helping renovate school buildings.  My future teammates also make their spiritual prescence known, by teaching at the local theological colleges and by fellowshiping with their neighbors.  The Anglican church has a strong prescence in Mundri, so the WHM missionaries partner with them to set plans into action. 

I am super-excited, not only to work with the Sudanese teachers in building a stronger education system, but also to meet the kids who I will be tutoring.  I can't wait to get to know their personalities and gain insight from individuals who have spent their whole lives in Africa.  I'm sure I will learn a lot from them. 

As exciting as this future is, it will not come to fruition by me just sitting and daydreaming.  There is much to be done in terms of financial planning and support raising.  Much of my blog postings within the next few months will be focused on the ups and downs of asking people for money-- something that is very counter-cultural and difficult to do.  It should be an interesting time, as I am living back home with mom and dad in the good old West End of Richmond.  I am no longer a full time English teacher.  Actually, right now I do not even have a job, as I am looking for something that is part time and less committal while I work on heading overseas.  Changes, indeed; however, I am embracing them.