Thoughts & Prayers in May

This morning I want to type. Just get it out of my head and on the page. Jim’s been feeling blue this weekend. I’m feeling down.

I read the Psalms this morning after a wonderful sermon this weekend about free will and God’s goodness (Sean Hurley at Rolling Hills Covenant Church). We had a relaxing Memorial Day weekend. We have food in the fridge and money in the bank. The kids have done well in school. I’m doing things I love which are coming together. Jim seems to be satisfied with his studies and happy for the year. We have a lot to be grateful for.

But I am sleepy. I took a 4 hour nap yesterday. The boys fight/argue constantly (though they make up later). They’re not motivated to excel in music. They’re happy to live with a bathroom that stinks. Jim is melancholy and unexpressive. A supporter writes to invite us for dinner and I can’t work out which date might be best. My parents call sounding like they’re fishing for a chance to get together and I don’t have the energy to make it happen.

We had a good visit to church, but I when I go, I feel like an alien. After being gone 10 years, we have so few good friends there. We feel loved and affirmed whenever we’re there, but it feels awkward and strange. I mean, we’ve been sending monthly news for 10 years, so some people have read it and been praying, but the other direction is occasional emails or a family Christmas photo and letter. I don’t know who’s died, who’s divorced, who’s going through financial hardship, “who’s made it big,” but the biggest I don’t know is: I don’t know who genuinely cares about us. On one hand, I’m amazed that there is anyone who still regularly prays for us after all these years. But I’m not ignorant that some of the “we pray for you” comments are more good intentions than fact. And really, it’s not like I think we deserve anything, or that anyone owes me a relationship; we’re the ones who left them afterall! Life is so busy for everyone, I feel like we’re a burden to have good intentions to accommodate. We live in a fast paced culture, careening us from one activity to the next, day after day, week after week, so it’s only natural that friends who live on the other side of the world are “out of sight, out of mind.” I want to be positive, so I am when I’m there, but in the back of my mind I have these questions. I am secure in Christ. I know he will care for and provide for us. However, coming back this year, and realizing that we’re not on the social radar for our old friends, and new friends are hard to make (who wants to invest in a friendship if you’re only going to be around for a year and may ask for financial support at the end of that year?) it’s made me realize the relational sacrifice this career choice has meant to our family. I suppose it’s the same for anyone who moves for work long term to another country, but other expats don’t have that added “support raising” awkward dimension to their friendships back home.

The boys have taken up playing catch. Tyler went to the MHS baseball game and I know he wishes he were a ball player too. I asked him and he agreed. He wishes he’d played baseball over these years so that he could be at the same level with these guys. He feels out-of-it, behind and like he’s missed out. All of this goes hand in hand with his feelings of extreme priviledge to have lived in different countries and have traveled so extensively. He enjoys the fact that he’s unique. How many American kids can say they went to two years of a Chinese kindergarten? Held boa constrictors? Taken a ride on an elephant?

I’ve lost my journal. In it written so many notes for talks, or prayers or insights and lessons that brought healing of old wounds. I don’t want to forget those lessons. But the journal’s been missing for weeks now and I’ve almost exhausted the places to search for it.

Lord, if it’s your will I know you can bring that journal back to me. If not, let me relinquish it and it’s contents to you. Help me to grieve its loss and move on not holding any grudges or be angry with myself for losing it.

I’m not as prepared as I’d like to be for talking to Lin Sexton today for preparing for the CITA conference, a track on THEATRE in MISSIONS. I’ve not invited enough people to attend.

Lord, rule over our conversation today. Give us your inspiration and ideas for what to bring to that training. Give us good communication and enjoyment working together. Thank you for the joy of knowing Lin all these years and the chance to do this track this year.

I’m supposed to sing today for my Music 9 class. It’s the last meeting. I’ve been practicing this song all semester. The regular accompanist doesn't play jazz, so my teacher was going to come and play for me. But she wrote last night that she’s sick and won’t be able to make it. I’m not quite sure what to do and I’m sad that I’ve done so much rehearsing, without being able to perform for the class. I missed the chance to sing any solo in the Jazz concert 2 weeks ago, so it makes this missed opportunity a bit more painful.

Lord I pray for Greg Jaspers, my Vocal Jazz Ensemble director, and his good friend Luke with the Lou Gherig’s disease. I pray for all those guys in the group. I wish I’d had more of a chance to get to know them. Give me more chances to talk with Andrew, I ask for a special time to share you with him. I pray you bring healing to Mary Durst’s voice. I pray you give me inspiration and joy over whatever happens in my last class today. I pray for little Natasha, the other girl who was going to sing with Mary. She seems like she has a lot of challenges. Give her health and joy.

I’m unsure about how I really feel about being in the school's dance recital, even though the choreographer Jessica has made a special part for me in the dance. I have “the lead” as she’s said yesterday. You see, I was wringing my hands and head over how much time this recital will take. I’m having trouble juggling life with so many other things going on. I thought perhaps I’m not that important, so I sent a text message. WELL! That was a WRONG choice! Next time the text will merely say, “call me when you’re free.” In the end, I’ve found out how much it meant to Jessica for me to take the role, and that it wasn’t just a matter of me being an easy replacement. I’m willing to make it work and be there for the rehearsals and do the 2 nights performances. But, I’m still stinging from the verbal tongue lashing I got on my phone messages from my dance teacher, who reacted very angrily when he was shown the original text that I sent to his assistant the choreographer. Though we resolved the issue as a misunderstanding over the phone, what he said was angry and harsh. In class yesterday he came up to me wordlessly and gave me a hug. I guess it was his way of apologizing and saying things are “okay” with him; that I’m not really as “cavalier, irresponsible, take advantage of him, unprofessional” a person as I was last Friday when I asked not to be in the recital.

Lord, I'm embarassed to be in a dance recital at my age. But I'm grateful for the honor of having a special part. Take the time I will invest in being around school for this show and let me be an encouragement to whoever you allow me to talk with. Let my being there and giving it my all be somehow inspiring to another dancer or audience member who thinks perhaps they are also "too old to be doing this."