The only thing consistent is change.....

As I think over my life the past year to year-and-a-half, one thing has stayed consistent.....change. I graduated from UGA in May 2011 and started teaching in a position that I never would have chosen had I had my own way. But of course, the Lord had better plans for my life than I could have ever thought up myself. And while I was teaching, I was presented with the opportunity to go to India for two years. So I left my sweet two-year-old class and shifted my life back home for a few months before leaving for India.

It has almost been exactly one year since I made my final decision to move to this side of the world. A year. It seems like just yesterday in some ways, and then on the other hand, so much has happened  that it almost feels like an eternity ago. In this past year, I have visited three countries outside of the US, my best friend had a baby, my other best friend got engaged, I have lived in two cities in India and have become engrossed in a culture completely different than my own. I have seen and experienced the Father in more ways than I could have ever imagined.

Overall, I feel abundantly thankful. Every morning when I wake up and spend time with the Father, my heart is overwhelmed with gratitude for being here. I love my city. I love the people in this country. I love the sarees and burkas I see outside in my neighborhood every day. I get excited to go and buy groceries down the street and to be able to practice my Hindi with the auto drivers. The taste of good Indian food and chai make my stomach do a happy dance, and the way the women here squeeze my hand to let me know they care about me bless me more than they could ever know.

There are times of homesickness, yes. When I skype with my sister and her kids, and I hear Tucker say "I yuv you Aunt Maddie" it is everything in me to not burst into tears. I hate that I am missing out on two years of their little lives. I hate that I don't even know Whitney's baby, Hudson. It kills me that I am missing Gretchen's wedding. But through the pain of life moving on without me, the Father is ever faithful. He has promised to never leave me and forsake me, and He has promised to use trials to make my faith steadfast. When I am faithless, He remains faithful because He cannot deny Himself. He is good. 

And you know what? I really love my life. It is frustrating beyond belief at times. But it's a full life.....a good life. 

He will wipe away every tear.....

Normally, my posts are about light and happy things that happen in this culture. However, this particular one will not be. So prepare yourself. I have a lot to say.

There are so many things about this culture and this country that are absolutely wonderful. I love being able to walk out my door and see the huge smiles of my watchmen. My heart soars every time I speak phrases to people in Malayalam and they respond with belly laughs. One of my favorite things to do is to buy eggs behind our flat from the sweetest shopkeeper. But one thing I cannot tolerate and absolutely hate is the abuse of women in my country. However, I feel like I need to make a disclaimer here. It does NOT happen all the time. In fact, I have no idea if it happens more here than in the States. There are many men that are honorable and have gone out of their way to serve Danae and me. But what I do know is that the majority of the women that I am closest to in this city have experienced some sort of abuse from a man.

This growing bubble of anger started inside of me a few weeks ago when a dear friend of mine opened up about being sexually abused by an older man when she was very young. It was pretty much gut-wrenching to hear about, and in my heart I just kept telling the Lord, "This is NOT ok!" Then, another friend of mine shared a story about going to a job interview and how the man she was interviewing with tried to touch her in an inappropriate manner.

I finally reached my boiling point when two older women who clean our gym told me about how their husbands also abuse them. One of the women doesn't have good English, but she was able to say "Husband. Danger. Drink." And she motioned with her arms what he does to her. Today, both women showed me the scars on their bodies that their husbands gave them. I was speechless.

And what's so hard about it is this: NO ONE is fighting for them. I can't just go to the police and tell them. They don't care. No one seems to care. As I was processing through all this mess inside of me, all I wanted to do was go give these men a taste of their own medicine. I know, I know. You get a peak of my flesh here. But then God reminded me of something. The only way these men will change is through the power of the Gospel. It had the power to change me from the selfish, horribly sinful person that I was. It had the power to change a man like Paul who persecuted Christians into a man who gave His life to tell people about Jesus. And it has the power to make every single South Asian person into a new creation. Beautiful.

The Lord also reminded me that yes, I do care for these women. A lot. But He cares for them even more. Scripture is abundantly full of verses that shows God's heart toward people the world seems to overlook. He loves the women of South Asia (and the men too) way more than I ever could. His heart breaks every time a woman is neglected, beaten, or sexually mistreated. He hates it even more than I do. And, He promises justice. One day, we all will have to give an account to Him for our lives. There will be justice for these women, and my job is to proclaim the truths of the Gospel: one day, God will make all things new! Praise Him!

So if you are reading this, pray for justice to reign in South Asia. Pray for the women here to be honored, taken care of, and cherished as the Lord commands. Pray for men and women alike to know the One True God and to worship Him as such. The only way for there to be true reform in this culture and cultures around the world is through the power of the Gospel.

God Bless.......England?

So yesterday was July 4th; our first official holiday that we celebrated overseas. To be perfectly honest, I was kind of dreading it. It's kind of hard to explain. So I'll just shoot as straight as I can. I miss America. Don't hear what I am not saying though. I love where I am. I wouldn't trade where I am for anything. But living overseas has made me realize that America is the greatest country in the whole world (ok, that may be a tad of an exaggeration, but still). So for each holiday, I think about how I would have celebrated back in the States, and since that is most likely not an option here, it is easy to miss America and get a little sad.

Back in America, I never had tons of traditions for July 4th. I am pretty sure ever year of my life I did something a little different. But, each year did include some of the same things: fireworks, awesome American food, shorts, tank tops, pools, and plenty of friends and family. And as July 4th approached, I was pretty sure not very many of those things would be included in my celebration.

But you know what y'all? The Father is so gracious and blessed us with a fantastic July 4th. The day started out with me wearing a dress! Yes, I did wear pants underneath, but still! A dress!! I felt kind of American :) Our language helper showed up to our apartment, and she came bearing gifts. Let me just tell you that she is one of the sweetest people I have ever met. She goes out of our way to encourage us in our language endeavors. So she showed up to our apartment with two handkerchiefs for us that she thought had the American flag on it. It was so funny though because she had accidentally gotten us handkerchiefs with the British flag and the word "England" written at the bottom of it. It was absolutely hilarious. Danae and I immediately cracked up, but stopped when we saw the look on our language helper's face. She looked so upset that she had gotten it wrong. We assured her that we love England, and that even though America gained it's independence from England, that our countries have excellent relations with one another. Not to mention the Olympics are gonna be in London in a few weeks! I think she finally believed us when we showed her pictures from our recent visit to London. After she gave us our gifts, we went outside to light sparklers that she had bought for us! Nothing like standing outside looking out on our city waving around sparklers while singing God Bless America! She then taught us how to say "today is our independence day" in Malayalam. Language time was quite a success I would say.

After language was over, Danae and I gathered up some food supplies and headed over to our friends' house (they are American) for a celebration. We ate homemade muffins and hash browns, and then settled in to watch an episode of John Adams. I am sure that it was a great episode, but I fell asleep. I know, I know. Shocker. We then fixed a fantastic meal that consisted of burgers (yes, they were chicken but nonetheless, awesome), baked beans, mac and cheese, cheese dip and salsa, potato salad, and for dessert, apple fritters. While we ate, we watched the Patriot which may be one of my all-time favorite movies. I did not fall asleep this time :) It was such a good time of building one another up in the Lord and celebrating what an amazing country America is. Really, living here has made me realize how blessed I was in America, and I hope that I never, ever forget to the thank the Father who is the giver of every good and perfect gift; both for those gifts I had in America and for the amazing gifts I have here in South Asia too :).

Our Turn to Host!

So you know how I posted about how incredible South Asians are at hospitality? Well, let's just say Danae and I need a little work (ok. I'll tell the truth, we need A LOT of work) at having South Asians in our home. It was a near disaster, but like all things that happen to me in this country, I walked away with abs exhausted and eyes wet with tears from all the laughing I did. What can I say? The Father is very gracious.

Danae and I have made friends with a family who live near our city. And I think to say friends is an understatement. I legitimately feel a part of their family when I am around them. The mom really treats us/takes care of us as daughters. It is a very special gift. Well, anyway, Danae and I normally visit them every week, and the last time we visited them, I invited them to visit our flat. Because they do a wonderful job of serving us, I was looking forward to the opportunity to serve them and show them the love of Christ in our home. They told us that they would visit sometime the next week. Sadly, they never came, but it wasn't completely surprising because here in South Asia, that's just how it goes. No problem.

So another week passed, and this past Saturday I got the long awaited phone call from the family. The younger son (who speaks English) informed me that the family was going to come visit us on Sunday at 4:00 pm. I excitedly told them that we would be waiting for them. Then, at the end of our conversation, he said, "We will come today or tomorrow" which kinda left me stumped. Were they coming today or tomorrow? But alas, I could not coax an answer out of him, so Danae and I prepared ourselves for either day. Well, Saturday came and went, and they did not show up. Then Sunday came, and Danae and I made cookies and cleaned and made sure everything was perfect for four o'clock. Well, once again, four o'clock came and went, and they didn't show up. Danae and I had determined that they simply weren't going to come when I got a text message saying that they would come at 6:00 pm. So we waited for them. And 6:00 came and went. And then at last, at 6:15, they called saying that they were at the boat jetti which is about 15 minutes from our flat. I told them to get an auto to come here, and they said ok. Well, thirty minutes passed and they still hadn't shown up yet. Danae and I were perplexed until they called asking us where we were. Panic hit me as I realized that there had been a big miscommunication between us regarding how they were getting to our flat. We grabbed our stuff and flew out of our apartment, both feeling terrible since it had been raining buckets outside all afternoon.

We hailed an auto to the boat jetti. The poor family was standing huddled under some umbrellas. But, thank goodness, our miscommunication didn't seem to bother them at all! We piled into two autos and drove the short distance to our flat. We took them up to our apartment where we gave them a taste of their own medicine. We insisted that they sit down as soon as they got inside and immediately gave them peanut butter cookies and popcorn. Although, the peanut butter cookies weren't the biggest hit, they devoured the popcorn. Danae got up to make chai, and the family insisted that we take pictures together. They pulled Danae away from the chai, and while we were posing for photo after photo, the chai got too hot and exploded all over the kitchen. It was quite a mess. The mom just laughed at us and helped us salvage what was left. As the family was drinking chai, I shared a pack of Poptarts with them, and they actually liked it!! I think they were shocked that we eat them for breakfast though :) We then tried to serve them water from the fridge, and they all immediately asked for water that wasn't so cold. So different from the States!

Before the night was over, I had laughed so much. The family made fun of Danae and I so badly because we use toilet paper instead of water when we use the restroom, and they laughed so hard at how much taller I am than everyone else. They also shared the incredible news that their oldest daughter (and one of my close friends) is pregnant! Before they left, I popped an extra bag of popcorn, and it was hilarious to watch the mom and daughter stand mesmerized in front of the microwave as the bag inflated. They had never seen that before! Go figure.

Finally, it was time for them to leave, and before they left, they said, "next time you come to our house." In other words, you are sweet to have us over, but next time, it will be best for you to come to us :) Oh, well. We tried, and I think they love us all the more for it. 

"Neat and Tidy" Snail Mail

So this post is going to be about snail mail....a system that I rarely used even in the States. But snail mail here is a totally different animal. Having read blog post's from other expats, I know that where I live definitely does not have the worst mail system ever, but it still doesn't cease to make me laugh :)

One of the best things in the world is the care package. I mean, think about the name! It has the word care in it, and man does it make me and Danae feel cared about. Our first care package arrived a few weeks after we got to our city. It was from my parents, and it contained some completely necessary ;) items like chocolate chips, homemade blueberry preserves, and some things I had accidentally left at home. A lady came to our door and delivered a slip saying that our package had arrived and was waiting for us at the post office. We just needed to come and collect it. However, she said that the "parcel" (they don't understand when I say package) was damaged. Although my heart rate increased a little at the word "damaged," I was still super excited to get to the post office to retrieve my parcel. Danae and I left promptly and walked to the post office which is only about a fifteen minute walk from our flat. When we arrived, we honestly had no idea where to go, but eventually after walking into a room and having a woman shake her head at us, we found where we needed to be, and the woman handed me the package. It looked like it had, at one time, been a beautiful brown box, but alas, had been broken into and it appeared that something had exploded inside of it. I only prayed that it was NOT the precious blueberry preserves. I grabbed my parcel that was only being held together with twine and left. When I got home. I was sooooo excited to open it. Even if everything was broken, it was still a taste of the United States that I just needed. I opened the parcel, and let me tell you, it was a bit of a mess. But no worries, Mom (I almost didn't want to tell you cause I didn't want you to freak) everything turned out just fine! The chocolate chips had melted and then somehow exploded, but they are currently chillaxing in the freezer to be ground up in the food processor and used in something yummy :) The blueberry preserves were completely perfect! The pretty glass jars were totally in tact. The corn flour also exploded a bit, but I washed off everything and put the corn flour in its own special container. So all in all, I would say it was a pretty successful care package :) Thanks mom and dad!

Since then, Whitney and Robin have also sent me a care package. Or should I say packages. I know, I know, I have the best friend in the world. This time, the packages were not damaged at all, and I had the best time going through all the goodies! I had forgotten the simple goodness of the Poptart. I mean seriously, they are so stinkin good. And the ease of cleaning with the Clorox Wipe. It's nice to know that 99.9% of germs are getting killed in my kitchen every time I whip one out :) Also, we have been blessed by lots of Danae's friends who have sent us care packages. We have gotten black beans, taco seasoning, and lots of other fun stuff!

So I decided that since so many people were sending me lovely gifts, I wanted to attempt to send something in the mail to America. I had heard that it was not very expensive, and I had found some cute presents for my favorite three children in the world (who I miss more than anything), so Danae and I made up our minds to try it out. Let's just say, it was an experience for sure.

Here is the problem in our neck of the woods with mail. A lack of boxes. It's not like you can walk into the post office and buy a box. They will look at you like you are crazy (even though they already look at us like we are crazy). So Danae and I used the only boxes we could find. Fortunately, she found a white box that our blender came in and packaged it up all nice. I, however, could only find a giant box that our doll house came in (we got it for language study). So I used it. I stuffed my goods inside, and taped it up really well to make sure that nothing would fall out. I even taped my sister's address on the front. I thought it looked nice enough.....well besides the creepy child on the front playing with dolls. But I figured, in SA, it would be fine. Well.....I was quite wrong.

So Danae and I took off for the post office once again. I noticed that people were looking at us a little funny so that made the walk all the more interesting. When we got to the post office, we went upstairs and waited in long line of people. We weren't even really sure we were in the right line, but we waited paitiently anyway. When we finally got up to the counter, the man took one look at my package and started gibbering off stuff that I couldn't understand. He gestured for me to scoot further down the counter toward a lady (who had quite a scowl on her face), and she continued to shake her head at my package. She got a different lady who spoke better English. This lady started smiling and laughing at me a little and explained that my parcel was  "not neat and tidy." I was a tad confused because, yes, the picture was obnoxious, but the parcel itself was not beat up or anything. She continued to explain that I had to cover my parcel in white fabric and get it stitched. What?! Cover a parcel in fabric? Stitch the fabric? Not gonna lie, I just had to shake my head and laugh at the ridiculousness.

I left the post office on a pursuit to find white fabric and a tailor. I found the white fabric, but unfortunately, no tailor. So Danae immediately whisked me to my American refuge, KFC. I downed my favorite drink, Mirinda (seriously, this stuff is the jam), and ate my favorite chicken wrap. It made me feel better, and I felt more ready to conquer the parcel problem. I went back to the fabric store, bought the fabric, and proceeded to the closest tailor. It ended up being quite fun! The ladies only charged me like 60 Rs. to do it, and while we waited, they let us practice our Malayalam.

So a few days later, Danae and I went back to the post office, and this time I was ready. My parcel was "neat and tidy," and I was determined to make the grumpy worker lady smile. I walked in and saw the same workers as the other day. The man weighed my parcel, and sent me to the lady to get her to ok it. And she did! AND she smiled back at me :) It was a successful day in my book. So Jenny, your "neat and tidy" parcel should be arriving in the mail in a couple weeks (hopefully). I know the kids will enjoy the toys, but you also have some surprises as well. Love you, sister!

Hopsitality Central

So seriously. I live in the land that could teach Martha Stewart a thing or two about entertaining guests. South Asians treat their guests like kings and queens, and it totally doesn't matter if you have a prior invitation; just stop by! I love it! Last week Danae and I went to a SA family's house on an island right off the coast of our city. As soon as we arrived, we could tell that the family was so excited we were there! They immediately turned the fans on in the room when we arrived, and the two older women went straight to the kitchen to make something for us. The older daughter started doing henna on my arms, and the two older women brought out a special mango drink. Unfortunately, it came with only a spoon and since I had wet henna on my hands, I couldn't pick up the spoon to eat it. But my hostesses couldn't possibly have me not be able to enjoy my drink! The sweet Auntie came over to me and started spoon feeding me the smoothie. I felt so humbled and so loved that even though I was trying hard not to gag getting the drink down, I didn't want her to stop. After the last spoonful (I was praising the Lord that I had not thrown it up! South Asians don't drink cold drinks so think hot mango smoothie consistency with cashews in it! It just kinda made me gag), the Auntie then walked into the kitchen and came back with her hand wet to wipe my face. Y'all, she literally wiped my face using her hand as a napkin. As weird as that sounds, it kind of reminded me of the humility Jesus showed when he washed the disciple's feet. I just can't describe how absolutely loved I felt at that moment. I just wish someone could have videotaped the whole thing cause I am sure it was a sight to behold!

But anyway, since that day, we have gotten to go back to the family's house uninvited (the Lord totally allowed us to stumble upon them). But the lack of a prior invitation didn't stop them from inviting us in and feeding us rice, fish, and giving us some amazing chai (it was the best I have ever had). And when we were ready to go, the mother even asked us to spend the night!

Danae and I have also been invited inside people's homes after meeting them on the street. Seriously, the other day I started playing with some children on the street and sure enough a few minutes later, we were being given chai, a girl was offering to put henna on my hand, and they even invited us back to lunch next week! What I am about to say next is no bash against the US, because really, I am beginning to realize what a great country the US is to live in. There is a reason foreigners are flocking to live there. But sometimes it makes me sad that people in the US are so closed off to others. No way in the world would I be invited to dinner after having met somebody off the streets. But here, that is normal. Danae and I discussed the other night about how if we could combine the efficiency of the US with the (for lack of a better word) relational-ness of South Asia we would have the perfect country. But the more we discussed and thought about it, the two just cant go together. The reason why this country is able to be so relational is because they put way more emphasis on people than on getting things done. And although it can sometimes be frustrating, the Lord is using it to teach me a lot of patience. And you know what? I simply feel loved and taken care of here. I love my new home :)

The Thieves of K-Town

So Danae and I have definitely made an impression on this place. Not only are we some of the only white people that live in this city which brings about many stares and comments, but we are now the town thieves. Don't freak out yet. This story is quite funny. Or at least to me anyway :) So there is this awesome little grocery store a short auto ride away from our apartment. It is called Ashish Super Market. It has most things that we need, and it has a pretty good produce stand outside. Danae and I were in desperate need of groceries so off we went to Ashish. We shopped for a while buying things like flour, olive oil (the price was so steep I almost died. Imported things are NOT the way to go if you can help it), my favorite Indian chocolate cereal, boxed milk, etc. Before we knew it, our tiny buggy was filled to the brim and we hadn't even gotten produce yet. We checked out because you purchase groceries and produce separately at this store, and headed outside to get some fruits and veggies. The only problem is that by this time, we were loaded down with a couple of heavy, heavy bags with no hands to spare. So I left the bags beside Danae and started picking out fruit that I wanted. I paid for the produce and Danae and I grabbed our bags and headed outside to get an auto, sweating the whole way. We hailed an auto and piled in, thankful for the break for our arm muscles. When we finally got back to the apartment and were putting the food away, Danae pulled out a mysterious bag of salt and said, "Did we buy salt?!" I said no and then we continued searching the bag. Beside the salt we also found dosa mix, a ton of okra, some weird looking purple veggies, and carrots. We both started laughing hysterically, feeling really sorry for the person whose groceries we took on accident. We contemplated keeping the food because we didn't know if it would be worth it to go back and we had no idea how we would explain because of the language barrier, but my very wise roomie said that the best thing to do would be to take the groceries back the next day. And good thing we did.....

So we couldn't take the dosa mix with us the next day because we were stopping by the market after a lunch date with some friends, and the dosa mix said it had to be refrigerated. We had a lovely veg lunch which consisted of curries and rice served on a banana leaf. Danae and I grabbed our bags and ventured toward the market. When we arrived, we grabbed the nearest veggie lady and attempted to explain what had happened, showing her the bags of groceries. We just kept saying "I'm sorry. Accident!" over and over, hoping that they would catch that we did not steal on purpose. The lady continued to rattle things off in Malayalam, and finally left us to go grab the boss man that worked at the produce counter. He came up to us and rattled some more off in Malayalam, and I picked up that he was asking about where the dosa mix was. I tried very hard to explain to him why we didn't bring it, and when it was clear that he wasn't getting it gestured to my wallet to show him that we would just pay for the dosa mix. He finally went and grabbed a bag from the store and then I paid him for it. Danae and I both smiled at him, and walked out. As soon as we left, we just laughed and prayed that the incident wouldn't harm any relationships between them and us.

So incidentally, we needed groceries again. And since we really like this grocery store, we went back. Right before we left, we stopped at the produce counter to grab some fruits and veggies. As soon as the ladies at the counter saw us they smiled and started laughing at us. Then the big boss man saw us and started laughing too. It was a tad humiliating. I just knew they were thinking, "Oh, what dumb American girls." Danae paid for our food, and before heading out, I purposefully checked our bags to make sure that they were indeed ours. The ladies saw me do this and laughed at me again. I just smiled back and said, "Namaskaram!" When we got into the auto, Danae said, "this place definitely strips you of any pride." And it does. There is no place like it! :) 

This post is about one very special lady. She is a best friend, a confidant, an encourager, and a wonderful model of a P-31 woman. And she will probably kill me for posting this, but hey, I have done way worse to upset her :) I wish I was a better writer so that I could do her justice; but alas, my writing skills are in the "need to work on" area of my life that tends to grow cobwebs.

You see, Whitney and I have been friends for over ten years now which completely blows my mind! I have almost been friends with her for half my life! During middle school, she put up with my ridiculous immaturity always encouraging me to be mature in Christ. In high school, she taught me what it meant to be obedient to Christ and His Lordship in my life. In college, she taught me what it meant to woman who was kind and compassionate like Jesus. And now she is an awesome example of a woman who is devoted to the Father, her husband, and her soon to be child (I can't wait to meet my little mini wee or likey mikey!)

The biggest example of Christ that she has been to me was when she told me to go. I really don't think she understands what that meant and still means to me. She was enough like Christ to put His desires for my life above her own. I know that it hurts her for me to be gone for two years, but I also know that ultimately, she wants Christ to reign in my life. And that encourages me deeply.

Whitney, I love you so stinkin much. It is just about going to kill me to be gone for two years, especially during this amazing time in your life. But thank you for speaking the truth to me and considering me better than yourself. You are on amazing woman, and I love you :)

This will probably be short. But I really want to just take a minute and praise the Father. I mean seriously, He is so good! Over the past few weeks, I have been reminded (pretty constantly) of my shortcomings and mostly just my sin. I am thankful that the Father has been faithful to convict me of those areas of sin that so easily entangle. But tonight, I read Psalm 51 where David is basically pouring out his heart and soul to the Lord. He says things like, "Have mercy on me, O God, according to Your steadfast love!" and "Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me." Throughout this whole passage, David is showing what true repentance looks like. It was such a good example of how sorry we as believers should feel over sin. So as I am reading this, I am thinking about all the sin in my own life and how undeserving I am of God's grace. Multiple times I was thinking, "Lord, why on earth do you put up with me?!" And He gave me this verse: Psalm 30:5 "His anger is but for a moment; His favor is for a lifetime." PRAISE THE LORD. Through Jesus, I have full atonement and forgiveness and FAVOR. God looks at me like His own child. He likes me! We have such a good daddy.