CHAPTER 11: For My Faithful... Apparently more than a few: A blog so ordinary and boring I’m embarrassed to publish it

For My Faithful... Apparently more than a few: A blog so ordinary and boring I’m embarrassed to publish it

I seem to be looking through a peculiar lens this week. Everything I do and observe, I am narrating like a book in my head.  I am so excited about writing that I am writing as I live—like an outside observer at times. I can’t tell if it’s healthy or not. If I could manage to hold onto the stories long enough to record them, perhaps it would be at the very least, productive.

I also can’t tell if I’m merely jet lagged or thrilled about life. Of course I am generally sleepy at 7, asleep by 10— and awake at all hours of the night (though normally I sleep until 7:30 or later, shower, dress, walk quickly to work and arrive barely on time at 8:15— usually cranky because I forgot breakfast and coffee)—  However, my sleeping patterns are amplified right now.

This morning I was awake very early but managed to sleep in until… 4:45 AM. I was ready for work, much more clean cut than normal two hours early. I read the Bible a bit and expounded upon a few verses in Genesis for what turned into a two-paged, single-spaced, analytical devotional essay.

I got to work early and cleaned up much of my paper work around the classroom—a hefty task that I usually don’t even consider tackling anymore. I taught my classes with much vigor, feeling like an effective educator most of the day as I beamed at the group discussions I was eaves dropping on that were mostly on topic and quite analytical. I had many proud-of-my-student moments today. I graded more assignments in one hour than I have graded in weeks (winter break aside), had a conversation a with student about grades I had been dreading, spent three hours absolutely engrossed in a book in a coffee shop after work and all the while—I couldn’t stop smiling— all day. It’s like I’m in love, but not, clearly not because I was incredibly productive. It was creepy. I’m still so keyed up at almost 9 PM that I took some supplements to help me get sleepy because I can tell that it is going to be a restless night. I hate restless nights. I love this productivity and I don’t want it to end, but I do want to feel sane and balanced, sort of like before… but maybe with an extra portion of both. The good side is that I’ve been so productive and not bored due to my new book habit that I think I’ve lost a few pounds. If I keep that up for say… ever, it’ll be good.

I feel like I’m rambling but I want to keep my promise to blog even though I don’t feel like I have anything very interesting to say.

Speaking of my new book habit… It’s not that I didn’t read before. I just read different stuff, more… Christian stuff if you will. You see, I recently discovered a guilty pleasure that is taking up more time than I should allow. It is something I felt shame about for the first few days and now I just want to get it over with so I can move on with my life. It started with the movies this summer, but I just couldn’t stop there. I turned to the books on my flight home last week—simply out of curiosity… and the cat is dead. It’s Twilight—the vampire saga. Not my style AT ALL. First, I don’t like fiction. Second, I don’t like fantasy. Third, I don’t like reading ANYTHING that is not realistic and spiritually and emotionally uplifting and yet, I can’t stop. I’m addicted. But it might be a good thing. I have only been absorbed in a book a few times in my life and I think it is merely because I have tried the wrong books. I am actually excited about reading FICTION—other fiction, no more vampire series… once I finish this one of course. I found myself sneaking pages in between classes… and then reading during class when my students were doing group work—not a good teaching strategy, but that was yesterday. Today I was good, mostly.

I managed to finish the first book yesterday afternoon and then decided to take a break. I wasn’t going to start the next book until I had a long weekend. I got a list of thrilling Christian books from a friend at work and I was going to read those instead in the mean time. But as I sat on my lunch break, looking at my Kindle scanning from Francine Rivers to Twilight: New Moon and back again and I simply couldn’t focus on another series until I finish this one. That was at lunch. I went to the coffee shop across from my school after work and sat in a corner from 4:30 pm until 7:30 pm reading.

My boring rant is over. Well not really.

I started to write a personal memoir last week after praying about what to write about. Yesterday I prayed for guidance in writing as well and then I had an idea for another book, a biblical allegory. I even got the inspiration and ideas for a whole allegorical series about our relationship with Christ. I got started. Then today, I prayed for guidance and ended up with a long analytical essay on some verses so I can’t say I’m not writing. I can’t say I’m not praying about it. I can’t say I know where this is going… Oh well, God does.

Suddenly the growling within me is reminding me that I forgot to eat dinner.

Peace

God Bless

Chapter 10: A Trip Home

Words can’t express what it feels like to hold the little ones in your arms with absolute contentedness. I miss it already. My visit home was fulfilling and refreshing. I spent a lot of time with my sister and nephews, which was nice. I didn’t spend as much time with everyone else as I would have liked, not even my parents and grandparents. I miss them already. I will make sure to do that part better next time.

The first week, I got around a little to see a few people. The second week, I stayed home (my sister’s house) in my new fuzzy robe. Most of the immediate family was on vacation from school and work so it was nice just to do nothing. Unfortunately, I did a bit too much of nothing that week and paid for it my third week. I had many lunch and coffee dates and not nearly as many as I would have liked. I rushed to visit with friends and some family, missing seeing many I wanted to see. I rushed to get packed and to my great disappointment, left a mess, once again, though not as big of a mess as I did last time, for my sister and brother-in-law to clean up. I had to go through my things and determine what to keep, donate, and toss. I left three huge piles in the basement each labeled accordingly in addition to many mini-piles around my old bedroom. Once again I procrastinated; it affected others, and I got angry at myself for it. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever break this terrible habit. Sometimes I wonder when God’s grace for my failures will run out. Then I remember it will never run out.

The trip back was… productive. Let’s just call it productive. 36 hours. 5 airports. 4 plane trips. I’ll never take the cheapest ticket despite the itinerary again (if I can help it).

It started at Reagan Airport. Actually it started long before that, around the time of my birth, but for the sake of time, we’ll say it started at the airport. My mom drove me to the airport and after getting all of my luggage securely on the luggage cart, we hugged and kissed good-bye. I disappeared in through the automatic doors and she got in her car and pulled off.

Once I obtained my ticket and checked my baggage, I reported directly to the security line. The security people were all very nice… and thorough. One of the guys asked me where I was headed. “China,” I replied. “China. Wow. China… Why?” This is the typical response. Suddenly another security personnel appeared with a hand held hand scanner. “Excuse me mam, We’re doing random security screenings. May I see your hands please?” “Uh… sure.” He ran the machine over the palms of my hands and my fingers. “Thank you very much.” “Uh okay.” Smiling, I added “May I ask what that does?” “Oh it just checks your hands for traces of dangerous chemicals.” Confidently and with a smile, I nodded and responded “Okay.” It happened very quickly. I continued telling the other guy that I was a teacher.

As I continued through security, I was gently padded down. My bags were scanned, dissected, and rescanned. The security woman reached in my purse and found a large fancy glass ice cream dish that my dad had turned into a candle holder by melting wax into it and given to me as a gift. She looked at it closely, held it up to the light, turned it slightly, sniffed it, and placed it back in my purse. I was free to go.

Once I boarded the plane, I was relieved to see that my seat was an aisle as I had requested. I flew to St. Louis and met the most barren airport I had ever seen. It’s not even worth describing. It was nice. I like barren airports as long as I’m not hungry. Less than one hour later, I flew to Los Angeles in the same aisle seat on the same plane. I had to go through security again in order to transfer to my next plane.

I practically tripped my way through. As I started to exit the security line, feeling disheveled but successful, I realized I didn’t have my passport and boarding pass. I frantically went through the pouch I normally keep it in. I went back to security and searched through the pile of bins where I had been. I told the security guy I think I lost my passport and he replied with a tone of unconcerned, but hopeful sympathy “You’re passport huh?” And walked away. The man behind me looked concerned but there was nothing he could do. He said “good luck finding your passport” with a genuinely concerned tone before exiting the security gate. I found it in my purse a few moments later.

Once I reached my gate, I felt relieved and realized I was hungry. I knew the flight would be long and I didn’t know whether or not the airplane food would be edible, so I went to the only restaurant that was opened—Burger King. The line was long and the service was slow. Really slow. Unnaturally slow. I thought about ordering whatever was already ready, but  didn’t. I ordered a salad with chicken—crispy chicken and a Whopper. It took twenty minutes to get the meal. Apparently they had to cook fresh crispy chicken because when I finally got it, there was a package with a freshly cooked crispy chicken patty torn apart by hand in the bag with the salad. I ate the salad and saved the Whopper.

To my disappointment when I got on the plane, I was in a center seat. I cursed under my breath without thinking and then hoped the guy next to me didn’t hear me. My anxiety immediately went up and only soared higher when I was about to sit down and my money, a lot of American and Chinese cash went flying all over the airplane floor in front of everyone. “Ooh money” the guy next to me said. I quickly gathered it up and shoved it in the pouch remembering to zip it completely shut this time. I uncomfortably sat in the cramped middle seat with my huge book bag under my feet. I was eyeing the aircraft, looking for empty aisle seats to move to. Just before takeoff, I asked the fight attendant if I could move to the one just  across the aisle. I did.

I took some Nyquil hoping to sleep and not to have so many ear problems and I was out like a light within minutes of takeoff. I woke up to the sound of meals being passed out but too tired and disinterested in the menu to care, so I pulled my mask back over my eyes and drifted off to sleep. I slept most of the night and woke up very hungry. I ate my cold whopper and went back to sleep. It was the best plane ride of them all.

In Beijing, I gathered my luggage after the longest wait of my life. It took nearly an hour for all three checked pieces to make it to the luggage belt. They seemed to be sending the luggage from the plane to the customer one bag at a time. I had just enough time to get the bags, clear customs and immigration, check-in for my connecting flight, go through security again (where I almost forgot my Kindle and Laptop in the tray), find my gate, get a cup of coffee and piece of Apple Pie because I couldn’t find any appealing breakfast, and board the plane.

The final plane ride was nice. I read a book for most of the flight on my Kindle. Mike and Christina met me at the airport after I got my luggage. I was walking through the gates and saw the crowds waiting for the arrivals. Immediately,  I spotted Christina and waved at her. They were standing in the center of the crowd in the front row. We took a taxi to my apartment and they helped me bring my luggage up. There were clothes all over my apartment from the day I left and I wasn’t even embarrassed.

While I was packing three weeks ago, I tossed clothing to and fro. There were shirts on the living room floor. Socks on the couch. Socks on the sink. Shirts in the hall. Clothes everywhere.

After Christina and Mike left, I had to do something about that terrible odor that emanated from me after being in 5 airports in two days. I smelled. I hadn’t had time between any of the flights to freshen up like I usually do. It was embarrassing how strongly I smelled.

When they left, I took a shower and then called Sonda. She offered to heat me up some homemade soup if I came over. It was like being home. Chicken tortilla Southwestern heaven. It made a wonderful end to the traveling day. We chatted for a while and then I walked home. It was a good 45 minute or so walk. Right now my ankles are still swollen like golf balls. I have bruises from I don’t even know what during travel, and blisters on my hand in the odd shape of a line—from dragging luggage on wheels that was so heavy I had to stop for breath.

All in all it was a productive travel experience. I wrote a lot for my book during the flight form St. Louis to Los Angeles and got a lot of reading done. God provided. I made all of my flights, got all of my baggage, made it here safely, and didn’t fall once… just everything I was holding fell.

Tomorrow I teach. I don’t know what I am going to teach but I’m sure I’ll be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 4 am to figure something out. J

Chapter 9: Sorry I Have Not Kept Up and and Update

Hello Everyone!

First, I am sorry I have not blogged in the last month and a half. I can't even believe it has been that long. In some ways, I feel like I stepped into a time machine and in some ways I feel like I have been here forever. The weeks are going quickly but the days are long. It is quite an interesting combination.

I feel like I have grown so much since my first month here. It was easy to write of comical novelties the first month. Everything was new and I had to laugh so I didn't cry. The second month, I was taken aback by the life He was revealing that He had prepared for me here. Friends and my fellowship filled the evenings and weekends; dinner out on Tuesdays, Ladies’ Word Study on Thursdays, Small Group on Fridays, Lunch on Sundays. I began contemplating SERVICE. Lots of laughter, lots of blessings. 

The third month... has been filled with real life. Stress about too much work and not enough time to complete the work, occasional overextension in Fellowship activities, no shortage in Divinely sent friends, sponsoring a student club, and SERVICE opportunities to work with teens, women, AND orphans popped up—all three passions I have had for some time. I had to start deciding how to spend my time wisely because I actually had stuff to do- more often than I could say yes.

Then the occasional “I NEED TO SEE MY BABIES!!!” (My nephews) where I would go crazy, missing them and my other family. Those moments were fewer and further between in the second month.

Well now, I have two amazing couples who I am friends with. Of course I am closest with the wives but their husbands have become important friends in my life too. They have also filled the need I have over here for a male presence. Someone to carry my heavy bags when shopping and to change my light bulb in the ceiling. J And of course to be the same despite my emotional turbulence at times. But on a more serious note, Christina and Mike AND Sonda and Jeff have made my life here enjoyable, not just tolerable. I love them dearly and am so glad that I was brought to China if for no other reason to gain these friends.

I have much to say and will say it soon. Although, most of it would be better suited to share when I get home over Christmas. I will be sharing my testimony and about what is happening in the places I have traveled at CRBC-CR in Dec. and at the high school EDGE Club where I taught the past three years in Jan.

I will be home on Dec. 17^th!!!!!

Love,

Brittany

Chapter 8: (Part 2) The second site

Cambodia

Day 1, Site 2

Mostly excerpted from my journal

This afternoon, I fell in love with the children here. We visited Samuel’s School, a Christian day school for children to attend when they are not in regular school (They have half days of school. Half of the kids go in the morning and half go in the afternoon).  We did two dramas, Joshua and the Battle of Jericho—very interactive and great fun and we did Zacheus again. Kristen taught them two songs which corresponded to the stories.

Our team and ministry partners then went to the upper room[1]. There, we discussed the ministry needs in Cambodia[2]. We took communion and prayed together in a circle. We then prayer walked through a slum site that was moved into an alley because their first two neighborhoods (slum/dump sites) were flooded. They were forced out of their homes twice this season due to the immense flooding.

The moment I walked into the alley, the children grabbed onto me. They would not let me go. They hugged my legs, squeezed me, and wanted to be held… all at the same time! They wanted hugs and kisses and to have their pictures taken. They wanted to know Jesus; I know it. They are children of light.

I fell in love with these children. Their eyes are so inviting. They just want love and attention. I have a desire to build a school here, another school, an orphanage perhaps. I want to educate the women and children, to teach them literacy and help them learn skills, and their value in Christ, to see The Kingdom expand. The harvest is so ripe and this place feels so right. There is so much work to be done and the people are so receptive. The soil is fertile.

I now understand “Matthew 18:2-4” in a new light.

“2And [Jesus] calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them 3 and said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. 4 Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

I used to think that this just meant we needed to have blind faith like children, faith that they will be taken care of and will believe anything, but after this experience, I realize that it means so much more.

The people there, especially the women and children, are so humble that they will accept any gift offered to them. They will also ask if they see someone who looks like they have something to give. The spirit with which they do this is not like other spirits I have encountered, demanding and ungrateful spirits, but one of desperate hope. They are humble like children, naked and less ashamed than the rest of us. They know they are needy and in need of help. I understand now that this is how we all must be in order to have a relationship with the Father. That is why it is so hard for the rich to inherit the Kingdom. What have we really to ask for?

---

[1] Note that the upper room was literally the only room upstairs. I LOVE the biblical allusion.

[2] Cambodia is an OPEN field.

Chapter 8: (Part 2) Day 1 The first slum

Day 1
The first slum

As we drove up to the dumpsite— the dump that people build their homes upon so they could make use of the disposed of materials— the children were sitting under a tent in chairs, anxiously awaiting our arrival. When we got out of the van, I smiled. My eyes locked with a little girl of about eight years. She was wearing a blue dress uniform for school and kept smiling at me. She was beautiful.

We played games with the children using balls and hula-hoops. Mike did a fantastic job leading games. He really has a gift for children. Actually, he WAS a gift to the children- and us all.

Before we played, we handed out bread and water. They were all so grateful and humble. There was a little boy with burns on one side of his face, arm, and hand. The whole morning, he just wanted to be held. He had such a lively spirit. He loved having pictures taken of him and constantly wanted to look at the pictures on the camera. Each picture resulted in a joyous my-heart-skipped-a-beat bout of laughter from him.

After games, we told the children a bible story. I narrated the story of Zacheus and Jesus, and it was translated by Radu (sp?). Mike acted out the part of Zacheus in hilarious fashion, making very animated facial gestures and body motions while using a pole and a fence as the tree.

Then, it was time for prayer. Kristen, our leader, asked if we could walk around the village and pray God’s blessing on the homes and the families. The people were so receptive. The little girl, the first one I saw who locked eyes with me, with an amazing smile, grabbed me by the right hand and a little boy grabbed my left hand. They dragged me to their homes, giggling the whole way. Without words, they introduced me to their parents and excitedly pointed to where they slept with humble pride, mostly wooden floors. Their parents let me pray with them. In most cases, I held the hands of the adults as I prayed. One of Pastor Narin’s staff, a young Cambodian man, walked with me and loosely translated enough for me to have permission to pray with the adults. He was with us all morning and until our prayer walk at the end, I didn’t realize he was on our team. Treasures are often at first unseen.

One woman wanted me to pray for healing for her. She had been sick for a while with a temperature. I could see the desperate hope in her eyes as she reached her hands out to me from her window. I climbed the little wooden ladder and cupped her hands into mine and prayed for spiritual, emotional, and physical healing and provision. I prayed that she would receive the truth into her heart and mind and that evil darkness would flee from her whole household.

I tried to pass some people by because it was time to meet at the van; I told myself that one of my teammates probably already prayed for them, but the Hoy Spirit just wouldn’t let me go-- And I’m so glad He didn’t! I smiled at my personal translator friend, said “just one more!” and enthusiastically ran back to the women I had passed by. He spoke to them and gave the “No problem” thumbs up. Then, the most obscure thing occurred. An older woman with whom I had already prayed, walked up to me and the ladies I was praying with and knelt down before us on the ground. I layed my hands on her as I finished praying. I had the most peculiar feeling about her. Either she already knew Jesus or she wanted to know Him. So I had my translator friend ask her if she knew Jesus. He told me that she was a Christian! How amazing. She wanted to pray for the people with me. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be one of only a handful of believers around. I motioned to her that she needed to pray for everyone when we are gone and she nodded in agreement.

Her embrace was so peaceful once I finally better understood her perspective. She had smiled the whole time. She couldn’t tell us she was a believer because of the language barrier. At last, I recognized the unique light in her eyes.

Cambodia Part III- Coming Soon

Chapter 8: (Part 1) We're Going to Cambodia, See ya! See ya!

Part I. “We’re going to Cambodia, See ya! See ya!”

“We’re going to Cambodia… See ya! See ya!” Sang Ian, a full grown man with a wife and children, incorporating full hand and leg motions with his song as we waited for our taxi to head to the Hong Kong Airport. It was a welcome and humorous moment after the devil launched his first obvious attack on my spirit… I had decided to go to the bathroom while my team waited for everyone to gather, and upon returning to the meeting site a few minutes later, I found myself alone. Our team was supposed to meet after fellowship outside of the meeting hall and during the three minutes I was away, they had already gone on to the second meeting place, a home in an unknown location, unknown to me anyway. Being completely new to the hemisphere, and in a pre-prayered spiritual and emotional condition, my blood started to boil a bit and I felt like the trip was already starting to weigh me down with resentment. I was so angry I wanted to cry.

Shortly thereafter, following a series of uninteresting events, we reconnected and I had to let it go, as others did not appear to see it as I did. I recognized it for the spiritual attack that it was, prayed through it, and moved on.

The two-hour flight from Hong Kong to Vietnam was a blast. Christina and I bonded considerably as we sat next to each other. Her husband Michael was hilarious. He kept us laughing the entire time. I haven’t laughed so hard since I was home with my sister and mom. In fact, they are the only people I can usually laugh with until it hurts and I’m breathless.

We stayed in a nice hotel in Vietnam. Considering the shady looking neighborhood, it was a very nice hotel. The next day, while we waited for our taxis to take us to the bus station to head to Cambodia, we decided to take a tour throughout the city.  We each climbed onto a small carriage that was connected to a bicycle. We were pushed by the bicycle, sort of. I’ll post pictures. We were taken all throughout the city and it was an experience like none other. They took us to a memorial for the Vietnam War.

I never knew much about the Vietnam War besides the resulting PTSD and prostitution among some American soldiers and some Vietnamese women.

At first, I thought the Air Craft left behind by the United States was cool, that is until I stepped behind a wall into the prison remnants. I immediately saw a tiger cage made of twisted barbed wire, approximately 14 inches tall, 16 inches deep, and 36 inches long. It was a cage that the American Soldiers kept the Vietnamese prisoners in. They could only hunch over. There was not even enough room for them to sit upright. My flesh and bones ached for their flesh and bones.

Then, I saw a prison room. It was a small, dirty, room with a small peep-hole for soldiers on the outside to look through. When I looked in, I screamed and jumped back. There was a life-like replica of a prisoner sitting up on the bed. There was writing all over the walls. I wish I had been able to understand it.

I spent the rest of my time there reading the plaque on the wall that described the many torture techniques that the American Soldiers used on the Vietnamese. My heart broke. I know there is more to war than meets the eye. I also believe that there is a time for war, but there is never an excuse to torment people, ever.

When we got back from the tour, we all agreed that the trip was totally worth it even though the tour guides tried to double the price and rip us off… they tried to tell us that the price they quoted at first was only the price to get us there, not to bring us back too!... ::sigh:: the life of a foreigner.

Part II: Cambodia--Coming Soon