The Adventure Begins

In my freshman year of high school I began to fall in love with a culture who's music, colors and history was so complex that it fascinated me to no end. I picked up Indian friends for my avid love of all the answers they could give me and all the curry that they could feed me. I collected Bollywood, soundtracks, books, cookbooks, pictures, boxes, saris, punjabi clothes, bangles, spices, and... even Hindi Rosetta Stone. Rarely was the name of the country spoken from my mouth without a husbanded forlorn sigh for the fact that I, myself, had not set foot on its soil. Too much probably for that many years. But you know how love is.






It was October the 24th, 2012 and it had come down to only a matter of hours before boarding the plane that would start me on the long journey to get my India stamp on my passport. Only a matter of hours till one of my most treasured dreams would be coming true. My suitcase was actually being packed, my clothes finally being set out for travel... and my face was literally in the toilet. All I could do was cry and puke and puke and cry. How it had come to this and how I was ever going to pull myself together long enough to make it to that plane was rapidly becoming an impossibility.
I was a mess. An anxious puking mess.
Thank God for my parents. Thank. God.

My mother gave me a medicinal concoction and I simply obeyed their instructions of either laying down, getting up or just responding. My dad packed my bag and I incoherently replied to his questions, all just 15 minutes before leaving. Fervent were their prayers and pathetic were my tears as off we drove to the airport with me still on the verge of needing that toilet. I was highly doubting I'd make it.

I hobbled through the airport as a suspicious character looking like I was carrying the ebola virus, but they let me through anyways. My travel companion looked at me with concern. "No, no Charlotte I'm fine. You just might have to make sure I get off the plane and onto the next one, that's all." Poor girl. We barely knew each other and already I was at my worst.

Well it was all a blur after security. After the medicinal concoction peaked I only remember feeling extremely relaxed and completely unconcerned if I puked on the floor or my own belongings. Didn't much matter. What matters was that I slept. Got off that plane. Onto the next one. And slept again. The entire way to Munich.

"To the end of his days Bilbo could never remember how he found himself outside, without a hat, a walking-stick or any money, or anything that he usually took when he went out; leaving his second breakfast half-finished and quite unwashed up, pushing his keys into Gandalf's hands, and running as fast as his furry feet could carry him down the lane, past the great Mill, across The Water, and then on for a mile or more.

Very puffed he was, when he got to Bywater just on the stroke of eleven, and found he had come without a pocket handkerchief!"

Like waking into a dream.

With a 12 hour layover in familiar Munich, we strolled along the streets that often haunted my nostalgic dreams of bible school in search of palaces, churches, beer houses and donner kebabs.

Each road, each church and each sound and smell began a confusion that all time travelers must feel. There, in the past, I realized that in order to travel into the future I must relish the present. Letting go of the expectation of ever grasping the reality of any place we'd be, we simply were. And we were simply being.


Traveling the road, following the map. Embracing the vagabond status.

                                                                              

How God can be so equally familiar in the state of feeling so anxiously sick and then so euphorically in a dream is a human paradox that it seems you can only grasp when turning off mortal logic. Unfortunately I don't know the balance and I turned off all regular thought pattern together. Letting our raft simply coast down the rapids and calm, releasing any and all control, and our adventure, friendship and the feeding of an old dream began.

"They had not been riding very long, when up came Gandalf very splendid on a white horse. He had brought a lot of pocket-handkerchiefs, and Bilbo's pipe and tobacco. So after that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. These didn't come quite as often as Bilbo would have liked them, but still he began to feel that adventures were not so bad after all."

Fate Awaits 2013

So much is ahead to learn, fail and overcome. I'm ready. I'm terrified. And ever God is impressing the truth of abiding in Him for survival.
Survival of what? What is to come?
In the midst of such anxious questions He calls to mind some memories, sweet memories of secret meetings with Him and also the hell of certain years that have proven feeble when meeting with His promises. He reminds us of Heaven. He reminds us of the glory that is more precious than the dreaming day to day life and sleepless nights here on earth. To Awake, and to taste true Reality is tempting me to sacrifice even more in the little months ahead of puny 2013 than my best year of servanthood.
Tomorrow is no different than the chance I had today. And yet ever tomorrow is more bright and prophetic than the mistakes I have made in the past 24hrs :) What do I think of the exhausted topic of the new year? It's too irregular for me to predict its appearance or ambiance. But I suppose then you could see it as a world between worlds. The continued journey on a road that has no standstills. The deep breath is over and now it is the plunge. It is not the journey's end, nor its beginning, but it is a surprise chapter that refuses to let us prepare for it. Aha! Touche, life. Touche.

In view of my circumstances I think to my selfish self, "I did not want to be here at all." Why, self?  Well, I don't actually know. And actually, after all the unexpected... I don't know where else I could be. Or should be. Or would be. I think God has this one. And I better get my abiding act together if I want anything in this short life to matter or last.


PS: The unexpected Asia journey's tales, mishaps and God's timely rescues all still to come...shortly..ish.

Hello, October

 These days I'm overcome with anxiety over the fact that I can't predict what my eyes will behold in only a couple weeks.

I plan to miss my flight. I plan to stay in my room and lock the door.

  

But then, I think about the sights I'll be re-visiting...

...the sights that I'll be seeing for the first time...

...the sights I've dreamt about seeing for the first time for over 10 years,...

...and tell myself that I am literally time traveling from the safety of my room...

...then I don't think I want to pass it up.

Lord, help me. I'm so gripped with fear and simultaneous excitement.

Precious Indeed

In that moment He impressed the truth, "Circumstances do not prove I am trustworthy. My trustworthiness is proved despite your circumstances."

For some reason I wish I knew the formula for for the next time I'm desperately searching for something, I have finally found my promise ring. Missing since February, seven months later, seven months of despair, frustration, dreams of finding it, blahblahblah... Thursday was finally the day for the dreamed for breakdown. 

In the process of getting ready for the day I went into a jewelry box that I've been in countless times when looking for this ring. I swear I had torn apart every box (this one included), pocket and dusty corner and never saw it anywhere.  So this day I was completely caught off guard to find it laying safe inside. Shocked really. Shocked in that overwhelming relief and humility when your hope in God is proven trustworthy, even over so small a thing, and you're ashamed you even doubted. 

 My dad's conviction of its impending return was proven true. This one is mine, and has collected even more meaning than it already came with. It is precious to me indeed. 

But even more than this ring, God has become more precious. Still wrestling with Him in this new uncomfortable season, I'm surprised this reunion was not the climax or proof of love I was looking for. It is merely because He chose to. Merely because He let me have it back. And He didn't have to. That's the revelation. God is not obligated to give me everything I ask for. Him saying "no" is not against His goodness. And Him giving this back is humbling. To be honest I almost feel aweful for the tantrums I threw if it weren't for His sweetness that makes this kind of humility exactly what I crave. Phew!!

A classic song. It never gets old. 

Listen, Dear Friend

Lost = Adventure

Listen and read

Story first....

Once, when we were 11 years old my two cousins and I went out into the Colorado woods with the sole intention of getting lost on purpose. Why? Because that day the word "lost" translated into "adventure" and we were bored. After accidentally finding our way back to the cabin the first time we set out again, this time deeper into the forest, meeting with excellent success. We were out for hours and realized the reality of our situation as dusk was setting into darkness rather quickly (as it usually does in the woods). I remember genuine worry and fear made the feeling of adventure disappear for me, knowing that it would only be by God's grace to get us back because when we were really trying to get home we couldn't find it, and we wanted to. Matt shared in my concern as Pj began to build a makeshift shelter under a tree while we still had daylight (typical Pj). We weren't ready to resign to the fact that we were really that lost yet (we were that lost). But thanks to God's grace for 3 stupid kids we did eventually come upon Aunt Mary who was searching for us just a few yards from the cabin with the sun setting behind.
Why do I tell this story? Partly to showcase my family, who I find hilarious. But mostly because I feel like that kid again. I've got myself good and lost and it's God who has to get me out of the woods before it gets dark despite my stupid decisions fueled by boredom. Lost, this time, has to translate into adventure, dramatic feelings and all. What other option do I have?

Nursing school:
After two years (4 semesters and 3 summers) of waiting, of "just kidding"s, and feeling like I had been abandoned and wondering for way too long, I got a call. The nursing school had called my name, the wait was over, my real education was finally going to begin and I would fulfill my life's calling starting in only a couple weeks for fall semester. I really needed this. I really wanted this. I was overjoyed. I was dancing. I was in tears. Until...
"Yes, your name has been called. Congratulations! Buuuut, it looks like there's a bit of an issue. Has your fingerprint clearance card come in yet?"
Of course it hadn't.
"Yes it looks like we got your application on July 3rd so another 5 to 8 weeks to process before a card can be issued." I couldn't accept this spot without the card. After asking her if she could expedite that into a 2 day process I got laughed at and transferred to her supervisor (with her chuckling the entire time). That day was spent calling any counselor and/or supervisor that could possibly aid me in my desperate plight of expediting my clearance card application so I could accept the nursing school spot. All met me with rehearsed sympathy and slight annoyance since they dealt with this every semester and made sure to let me know that they had all heard it before. Mine was no special case, though I'm sure I could claim to be the only one that tried to bribe them with baked pies.
Long story short my dreams did not come true. The card could not be expedited and I had given up my spot to hope for spring semester instead (and add semester 5 to the count of waiting). Yes, my relationship with the community colleges would not be the same without them pulling the rug out from under me again. Oh nursing school, you wretched tease you.
Yes. I am good and lost and a lot of it is my fault.

Story second...

In 2007 I was in Berlin with some of the best friends I had ever made. The word "adventure" took on real meaning after meeting these girls and in true spirit of that we wondered the night streets, a little lost. In our wonderings we accidentally arrived at the Berlin Zoo. Since we loved zoos it was hard to stay on the outside when we had found a way to sneak in but decided against it at the thought of being in a foreign prison. Instead we climbed all over the entrance sculptures and found we could feign looking like we were in Asia. Willingness, flexibility and imagination will take you anywhere.
Why do I tell THIS story?
Because at the end of October of this year 2012, God willing (as nursing school has taught me to hold with an open hand) I will no longer have to feign. The one good thing about having to defer to spring semester, a possible good thing about being foolishly lost, is that I can go to India for a little while. It's a medical missions trip for a week to minister to the Jewish remnants of the lost tribes of Israel at the entire opposite end of the country that I wanted to go to. It's only a week, it's not exactly where I wanted to go, and I can't contribute hardly anything since I am so lacking in medical education (thanks Maricopa)... but it's India. It's my India dream. And I hope God will let me. It's a whirlwind of a tale to explain how it happened, and even more of a whirlwind to explain that I'm also going to Thailand right after, but there it stands. My optimistic wish to hopefully take a picture with a real elephant :) and see the adventure and God's sovereignty in being lost.

Today's Soundtrack

I forgot how hauntingly innocent this soundtrack is.