Happy 31st Birthday, Church of God Singapore

I'm starting to realise that probably after Christmas and maybe Chinese New Year, this time of the year is probably the best to be back in Singapore.

A week ago today, we celebrated Singapore's National Day. Even though we didn't do anything particularly festive on National Day, just being amongst others who knew the significance of the day (regardless of how much or little it meant to them) is still refreshing.

On Sunday, I got to celebrate the 31st anniversary of the Church of God in Singapore, the church that I grew up in.

Kids doing their special item

The kids and youth presented a few special items in celebration. It was one of many moments this week that made me realise again, I'm not as young as I think I am anymore. I couldn't recognise any of the kids anymore because most of them were teeny babies when I left. And when Carissa and Yan Zhang got up to sing, I could not have been more proud of the not-so-little-anymore MingMing who sounds so much like Ingrid Michaelson, one of my favourite indie artistes.

Rev Timothy Khoo

The theme for this year at our church is to go and make disciples (based on the Great Commission text in Matthew). I'll admit that the cynic in me was already starting to go, "Oh, here we go again with another overdone sermon. Make your three points, la di da and end with the whole go ye therefore and make disciples, do the altar call and be done so we can go eat." Even if the preacher was someone I had quite a lot of respect for, how different can Great Commission sermons get?

And then he launched into Bonhoeffer's The Cost of Discipleship.

Yup. Had me totally suckered in. Even if the main message of his sermon was somewhat cliche, that he talked about Bonhoeffer and drew several parallels to the personal journey that I've been on in the last seven years made it difficult for me to write off the message.

After service was over, there was the usual anniversary lunch. As always, it was fun to be back with the old gang and feeling like (at least amongst some) I've never left. And then there was that little big surprise.

My pastor had told me earlier that week that there was an old friend that I needed to meet again when I was at church that Sunday. This was the father of a guy whom I was in the same class with in Primary 1 and 2 (1st and 2nd grade), who also happened to be a part of my pastor's accountability group. As it turns out, he had a gift for me that was beyond anything I had expected. And now the fundraising effort for this year is even closer to being done!

Solomon and "Uncle" Ben

The festivities continued as the old gang (that now included the "generation" younger than us) migrated to someone's home where we found their parents had also invited their friends (many of whom were parents of our peers) over. The after-party consisted of way too much ice-cream, running around with babies and teaching them to not be afraid of dogs, Uncle Jeffrey showing off his brand new coffee-maker and a lot of card games.

It was good to be home. One of many homes.

Tutoring
This week has been one of those times that I wish I spoke Thai. I've been working with a kid from Thailand to get him ready for his English entrance exam. While he's already able to communicate fairly well, trying to explain this whole grammar and sentence structure thing is a pain. Something comes up every night that boggles my mind. Last night I learnt that in the Thai language, it's difficult to differentiate between the R sounds and the L sounds. So when he tried to say "close to the coast" we got variations like, "crose to the clothes," and "clothes to the coats."

Visa Updates:
Well, I've had many queries about what's going on with the visa, so here's the quick lowdown.

I was initially supposed to apply for a 1-year visa, but after some conversations with the church in New Zealand, we decided that it might be easier to go ahead and apply for a 2-year visa so that we don't have to renew it again next year. But there are extra documents required for a 2-year visa, which include a medical exam and a background check. As of earlier today, the medical exam is done and I'm clear to go. I've turned in the paperwork for the background check, so now we wait. It's likely I won't be able to leave before Sep 1 as we had hoped, because the background check won't be ready till Aug 29, and it will be another 10 days or so before the visa gets approved.



Alright, I have more to write, but I'm about to head out for dinner with an old friend from Anderson who's in town, and will be off to Penang for the weekend.

Love you all.

These Things Used to be Normal

Ok, this living in too many different parts of the world thing is starting to really annoy me.

I walked in to the hospital yesterday to get my medical exam done for the visa application. The lady who was helping me get registered asked for my passport instead of my IC (Singaporean Identification Card). She apologised when I asked if it was ok to use my IC instead because apparently I didn't look like a Singapore citizen?

With all this paperwork that has to be done and all the running around to different places to get official documents, more than once I got a weird look because I had to apologise that I didn't know my cell-phone number.

At one point, the lady at the bank thought I was nuts for not having a cell-phone number that didn't belong to my family. The number I finally gave her after fumbling around for a long time was already in their system--under my sister's name.

When I was applying for my ATM card, the lady thought I was nuts because I didn't know that ATM cards here don't expire, so the one I had applied for when I was 16 is still valid--and shredded in some incinerator somewhere in Indiana.

Then when I couldn't remember how I used to sign my name at the bank 7 years ago, I had to apologise that I haven't used that bank account in 7 years.

Or the fact that I'm suddenly very aware of the amount of diversity we have on our little island. The radiographer that did my x-ray yesterday was Filipino. The receptionists were Thai. The lady that did my blood-work today was Indian.

These things used to be normal. But the Singaporean in me is still 18 years-old, doesn't know how the banks work, and stuck in 2004.

Instead, my "normal" is catching people by surprise.

The lady who did my blood-work was super impressed that I managed to get a job working in a church in New Zealand.

And then having to explain that not all church people are humble are easy to work with.

And cringing when I hear the word "back-sliding" used on people who haven't gone to church for a while.

And explaining post-Christian Europe to non-church friends.

Sigh.

In a Heartbeat

Well, we're at a day shy of a week since I left the cornfields. After a relatively uneventful 36 hour extended stay in LA, I'm back here on the sunny island. So here are a few quick highlights from this week:

In a Heartbeat, 36 hours in LA:
So when I found out I had an 18 hour layover in LA, I put something out on Facebook hoping that some kind soul who lived within reasonable distance from LAX would take me in for the night. Sure enough, within a couple days, a friend in the Cayman Islands managed to talk to a friend who lives ten minutes from LAX to ask if they could pick me up from the airport and host me for the night. That same week, another friend that I had gotten to know during our stint in Germany (he's originally from Zionsville, Indiana but is now in LA) asked if we'd get to hang out while I was there. So upon getting in to LAX I was greeted by a Thai/Filipino couple who were my hosts for the night.

Breakfast with Jack at S&W Diner in Culver City, CA

The next morning, Jack, the old friend from our Germany adventures picked me up and we went for breakfast at the S&W Diner in Culver City. The food was interesting, but the conversation was what I needed. I hadn't realised until then that with the way the last couple months had been such a roller-coaster of emotions, I had gotten so discouraged with this whole move to New Zealand. Did I still believe this was the right thing to do for this season? With all my heart. Was I still excited about it? I couldn't really say that anymore. But hearing Jack's stories of his two months out on the west coast, the initial struggles and now getting to a place where he's getting closer to finding peace with what he's doing... It reminded me of that adventure spirit that I guess I had lost in the last two months of dreariness.

Long Beach, CA

I guess after that conversation, I was starting to feel again like I could go out and conquer the world. Because when I ended up getting stuck for 18 extra hours and Singapore Airlines offered to check us into a hotel in Long Beach, my first thought was, why not? I've not been to Long Beach, and I was ready to take on this adventure.

Long Beach, CA

As it turns out, there wasn't much to do or see in Long Beach, but it did give me time to explore a new city by myself. More importantly, it gave me time to be quiet and listen to my own thoughts, and talk to the Greater Being--both things I hadn't had the time to do in a while.

36 hours in LA made me thankful for global connections with friends. It made me realise again, home can be anywhere and everywhere--as long as I have friends. But quiet is good too. Would I relive those 36 hours? In a heartbeat.

In a Heartbeat, I'll be There for You:
Tuesday was Singapore's National Day. This is the first time in seven years that I get to be here for the celebration of our independence from the Brits 46 year ago.

I'm not one for extreme nationalism or patriotism, but when you've been away from one of your homes for so long, you cannot help but miss the red and white flags decking out the HDB flats. And when you wake up to all the old-school National Day songs being blasted from the primary school next door, you can't help feeling like a kid again, waving the flags that are probably homemade using an A4-sized paper and colouring the top half of it all red except the spots for the moon and those five white stars that don't look very nice because they were drawn free hand, then stuck either to two McD's straws or satay sticks attached back to back.

Even before getting back to this side of the world, Twitter had already informed me that this year's patriotic/brainwashing song (depending on your take on the government and the National Education curriculum) was titled, "In a Heartbeat." The music video, as usual reeks of nostalgia and all the usual NE elements of racial harmony and the likes. And every year, Kit Chan's, "Home" makes a comeback and tries to make you thankful that no matter where in the world you are, Singapore will always have enough room for you to claim it as home, even in all it's overpopulatedneas. All things I never appreciated enough until seven years away from it all.

Brother Frank at East Coast Park

This year's National Day was spent lunching with half the clan of cousins, then going cycling at East Coast Park with the parents and their students, much like what we used to do when we were kids. And we got home just in time for the last five minutes of the parade where they recited the pledge, and had a Malay kid singing Majulah Singapura. It was my reminder that we are a migrant nation after all, and it's only right that we recognise the native Malays on our national day. The rest of us only have a stake in this land because the Malays saw the benefits of the alliance with the Brits that allowed migration to flourish. So who are we to start speaking against foreign talent now?

In a Heartbeat, Best Friends Forever:
For some time now, the BFF and I have been talking about experimenting with living on $10 for a day. Some time ago I told her about the CSM experience in NYC where we were given $10 for dinner for our group of 5, and that had to feed an additional person as well. Our $10/day adventure may not be much of a sacrifice compared to what two-thirds of the world are living (or even in our secondary school days), but with the new level of life quality we've come to understand, we wondered if it would be possible for us to go back to  the $10/day budget. Here's what we learnt:

Juan's Ban Mian (板面)

1) $4 used to buy us a lot more.
For lunch, Juan got ban mian (板面) for $3.80. I got beef noodles for $4. Back on the day, chicken rice outside TK was $2, and lemon tea was $1.

2) Neighbourhoods in Singapore are "self-sustainable"

Ya Kun

We figured out that the best way to maximise our $10 was to stay in one place so we don't have to pay for transport. After meeting up in town since that's where the New Zealand Immigration office is, we decided to take a bus to Parkway, our old haunt from TKGS days and start our $10 adventure from there. We found enough things to do to entertain ourselves from 1:30 pm to 7 pm. After lunch, we went to Giant where we each got a bottle of green tea for $0.99, then window-shopped some and reminisced about the good old days. At about 4, we went to Ya Kun and had tea for $1.50 each, and peanut kaya toast for $2.

KFC

3) $10/day is doable, and we'd save a whole lot of money if we just lived like that.
At around 6, we wandered in to KFC and got ourselves the 4-winglet snacker-meal. Considering the way we had been eating all day, 4 winglets, fries and a small coke between the two of us was enough for dinner, and we even had $1.30 left!

What I really came to appreciate about this though, is the steadfastness of this friendship. We've both changed so much over the last 10 years that we've been friends. And even with my recent "craziness" in wanting to live simply and walking the path that this part of my world may not understand, she's still supportive and interested, and wants to be a part of this madness in her own way.


So that's been the craziness of life in the last week, along with trying to get the visa processed in time for the September departure date. Oh, and I've also started tutoring one of my mum's students from Thailand, helping him prepare for his English entrance test so that he can get into the public school systems here.

Has this been a fun week? Heck yes.

Love you all.

P.S. I've been "encouraged" to start sharing a small part of my blog with my new travel companion, Brother Frank. Brother Frank (better known as St Francis of Assisi) sits on a chain that was given to me by one of my Anderson Pops, Ed Fry. He will be making a special appearance on this blog every now and then to help document our travels.

From Brother Frank:

New experiences this week! Night time in the city, and bubble tea!

From the 13th floor of Jael's parents' apartment, overlooking the parking lot downstairs. This is at about 9pm on Sunday, just after we got home from the airport.

My first bubble tea experience at Gong Cha

Dear Keren #13: $150 Excess Baggage

Dear Keren,

I sat by the coast at Long Beach yesterday and watched the people and the waters. There's something calming about the way the scent of the sea breeze filling your lungs and watching the waters make their way to the shore, even if it's manmade. Then again, maybe it's the soul of the city child that longs for manmade beauty to bring comfort.

How do I even begin to put to words everything that has transpired in the last couple of months?

In the span of a couple weeks, the material things that marked the pieces of my life in the last seven years had to be reduced to two suitcases and a duffle bag. Furniture was sold. I had to figure out what amongst the ridiculous amounts of t-shirts that had accumulated through my college years carried enough sentimental value to not be thrown into one of seven trash bags to be brought to the Christian Center. Trinkets and books went into separate boxes: two for the Christian Center and two for storage with the adopted family.

Even after that, I still had to pay $150 for excess baggage.

Part of me wants to ask, why can't the world be more understanding about me moving halfway across the world, and just waive the $150. Another part of me wants to ask, why would they understand? Why should they?

And then there's another thing that struck me as odd. Seven years ago when I left, I carried with me picture frames that held images of persons I considered important to me. This time, it didn't even occur to me I should be packing those. If I did, the excess baggage fee would be so much more because I now have way too many of those, in too many different parts of the world. Which makes me thankful for me iTouch because I can keep these on Facebook. I've never been one to purchase gadgets like these regardless of my fascination with them, but considering how it made the additional eighteen hours I had to spend in LA more bearable, I don't have a choice but to be thankful. And especially now, too, that I can be typing this while I'm on the plane.

So you see, so much has changed in these seven years. I remember still so clearly, what it was like that Friday, August 20, 2004 (see, I even write my date differently now) when I boarded that SQ flight to be transported to LAX. As I was sorting through the old junk, I came across the journal that I kept during that transitional time. Apparently, I had written something along the lines of somehow magically wishing that maybe when I got off the plane, I wouldn't be facing the cornfields of Indiana, but would find the familiar faces that I had just left behind in SIN there ready to welcome me. And today, I have that same feeling. Except I was wishing for my Anderson family to be greeting me in SIN.

Typically on the flight back over Christmas break, whenever I had an option between the Asian or Western meals, I'd go for the one from the region I'd go for the Asian one because it was semblance of home. On this flight, they even have movies by Singaporean producers in preparation for the National Day celebration, but it made me sick in the stomach realizing that even if Kit Chan's "Home" were playing in the background right now, the home that I would be sick for would be in places I would never have dreamed seven years ago. Places like Anderson, Portland and Silverthorne. And not because of Layton Road or Pershing Dr, or University Blvd or College Ave, Hawthorne Ave or I-70 West.

But the people.

These are the people who have walked through the crap that life has thrown me since you died four years ago. They are the ones who understand why I grief the way I do every August 3. I still miss you, but I also miss the part of me, and the sense of home that died along with you that day. They are the Emilys who don't try to hurry me along the journey of healing, but go to the site of the accident to sit with me and lay flowers by your tree, even if they didn't feel comfortable doing that. They are the Jens, the Amitys and the Pauls who laughed at my faith crises not because they thought I was being ridiculous, but because even if I tried to not have that typical Seminarian faith crises, they were glad I was doing seminary well enough to really let it challenge me. They are the Tims who change my oil for free, and the Nikkis who challenged me to really think about the implications of this thing called free-will. They are the Emilys and Ashleys who drop everything to take me to Sno Castle in my last hour in Anderson, the Ricks that we run into just as he is getting off work who jumps into the car with us, and the Jasons and Michaels who upon receiving a text that says nothin more than "Sno Castle. Right now." rearranges their work schedule so they can be there. They are the Amandas who, with one Skype call makes me feel like my soul has just been cleansed. They are the Dans and Christys, the Johns and Jodies, the Darlenes, the Ruths who keep cheering me on on this wild journey in pursuit of those dreams. They are the Macs and Jeans, the Phils and Phyllises, the Dorises and Jacquies who "grandparent" from the sidelines but give me space to grow. They are the Eds and the Heidis who create space for my friends, the Thads, Tobys and Theos who can sweet-talk me into reading Harry Potter and bungee jump off a tall building for them. They are the Hannahs and Jamies who call before I leave. They are the Alexs who just show up. They are the Beccas and the Sharyns who understand why the news I received just before leaving create so much anxiety because of the prophetic call in my life, and remind me that even if I wasn't leaving, nothing would change. They are the Jacks whose kindred spirit refreshed my soul and reignited the passion to live this crazy life after a dreary two months of "until next times." They are the Ryans who share my beliefs about community, the Mikes who remind me of what is important in ministry, the Coppesses who takes the time to be serious every once in a while to ask how I'm doing, and the Carmas, Joyces, Kathis and Paulas who make time for me. They are the Arthurs and Judys, the Pauls and Debbies who give me permission to say I have a home (their home) in Anderson and Portland.

These are the things that make home for me. And since it will be a while before we land and my bubble of home is burst by the reality check, let me slide back into denial for a while, shut off into my world of Bejeweled where I can pretend I can smack-talk Coppess, Tim and Nikki, or read Harry Potter pretending I can talk to Thad, Jen, Alex, Tim, Nikki, Tim, Kit, Jacob, Emily and Ashley about it.

Dear Keren #12 - 4 Years Ago...

Dear Keren,

I will always remember the events of this night four years ago.

Likewise, I will always remember the events of this day four years from now.

So much to feel, think, say, do, write.

But for now, sleep calls.

Love,
Me

Dear Keren #11 - Softly and Tenderly, the Cornfields are Calling

Dear Keren,

This summer has been full of randomness. Mostly because whenever someone calls, as much as I can, I drop everything to go hang out with them. Who knows when the next time will be?

But the one recurring pattern for this summer has been the 30 minute drive through the cornfields to get to Noblesville to bead and to share stories. I still think it's weird for me to think of it this way, but that weekly 30 minute drive has provided some sense of normalcy and routine.

As I drove through those cornfields today, I was suddenly brought back to the first time I took my own solitary road trip. I was going to Courtney and Kyle's wedding, and driving Andrew's car since he was in Uganda and his car was going to just be sitting in the parking lot at church. The winding cornfields and country roads that took me from Anderson to Monticello. Ah, yes. Wide open spaces. I was starting to fall in love.

The date was May 7, 2004. I had just landed in these cornfields and someone had signed me up for my auditions with the Music Department. The events of that weekend was such a whirlwind, and then we were off on our roadtrip. I think there were 7 women, and my poor pastor, the only male. Anyhow, at one of the bed and breakfast places that we stopped at, I remember this guy asking us what in the world we were doing in the cornfields of Indiana. I don't remember what our response was, but it was something along the lines of, I didn't know we were in the middle of cornfields.

Having spent a significant part of my life in the city, it was weird for my mum and I to think about me spending the next four years of my life in the middle of cornfields. New experiences were exciting, but I wasn't sure I would ever feel at home in the middle of cornfields.

Driving through the cornfields today, I realised a few things: 1) Growing up in the city, I always knew what bus or train got me to where I needed to go, but I could never tell you what street the place is on, or how to drive there. 2) I still got lost around the cornfields some, but I knew I-69, I-465, I-65 and I-70, SR-32 and SR-37 well enough to maneuver around without getting too frustrated. 3) I couldn't deny it any longer: the cornfields have become home too.

And I hear them calling. Softly. Tenderly.

But they don't say come home, come home.
They say go. Take off. Soar. Fly.
But remember where you are rooted.
Not just in the wide open spaces and the cornfields.
Not just in the bright lights of the big city.
But in the spiritual beings that give you home.
And come back when it's time.
And take off again when it's time.

Home will never hold you back from being the best you you can be.

Dear Keren, you have been a big part of helping me find my home. Not just while you were here those three years. But even in the life after, our friendship continues to remind me that home is never simply a geographical location.

Home is the souls that you can keep in your pockets and take with you wherever the wind blows.
Home is the little notes to cheer you on in the middle of the battle.
Home is, I believe you.
Home is, I'd love to keep you here, but you need to go so you can be the best you you can be.

Softly and tenderly, the cornfields are calling...
Go on...
Go on.

This Week's Treasure Trove

Thankful for:
Darlene and Doris, for throwing together a lunch for my SOT friends. You remind me of the family that Park Place has become for each other, and for me. Thank you.
Paul and Debbie, for dinner, for space to housesit--but also to retreat to. You remind me that no matter where I go, there's always space for family. Thank you.
Carma, for giving me space to be where I am with Park Place. You remind me of the journey we have been together, and for all the other persons who have been my pastors. Thank you.
Emily, for beads and stories. You remind me that we live in a dark world, but there is hope yet.
The not-so-baby-anymore sister, for reminding me of how we've all grown up. You remind me of the beginning of my Anderson journey, I'm thankful that we can now have discussions that we never used to be able to have.
Amanda, for being born. You remind me of the importance of deep friendships, and that no matter which corner we land, there's always room for each other.
McC, for dim sum and social studies lessons. You remind me to always take time for friends and their stories regardless of where we each are in life.
Dan and Christy, for the tradition of the Nile. You remind me to keep dreaming, and to spread my wings, and to never be afraid of following through with the journey.
Emily and Ashley, for friendship and community. You remind me that it's more important to be authentic than to always agree.
Doris, for fluffy scrambled eggs, overdone bacon, and a little too hard muffins. You remind me that life isn't always perfect, but we always have friends for the journey.
Tamara and Jenny, for sushi and fellowship. You remind me that even in the busyness of life, there is still time for friends.
John and Jodie, for fellowship of kindreds. You remind me again that once we stop being able to laugh at the craziness of life, it's time for a vacation.
Jacquie, for not only taking an interest in my passions, but helping me with resources to pursue them. You remind me to keep the intergenerational connectivity alive.
Alex and Michaela, for Harry Potter. You remind me that life doesn't always have to be about all the deep stuff, and to take time for the little things.
Becca, for Anderson "lasts" adventures. You remind me that friendship doesn't always require a lot of time or effort, but simply knowing that the other is always there.
Jess, for kitties and food. You remind me to be thankful for the times I get to celebrate new beginnings with friends because life doesn't always allow enough time to celebrate or mourn everything.
Patricia and Zach, for pizza and friendship. You remind me that no matter how much time has passed, some things about friends and friendship never change.
Heidi, Thad, Toby and Theo, Greame and Caroline, Bryler and Ada, for pool craziness. You remind me of the awkward kid I was seven years ago, and the friendships that I have found.
Michael, Jason and Royce, for hosting community dinner. You remind me that blatant honesty and authenticity often make for better friendships than surface conversations pretending that all is well in our world.

So, so thankful.

I've always had an appreciation for wordsmiths who craft words succinctly and with a dose of wit, or simply have the ability to say things in a way that makes you go, wow. I recently started collecting a treasure trove of these words, and here are a bunch of those to help remind me there are people who believe in me even when I don't believe in myself.

"You cannot stop the birds from flying around your head, but you can keep them from making nests on your head." - Nathan Smith (via Ann), on anger.

"I'm proud of you and how far you've come. In my book, we have equal authority on these things." - Greg Robertson, on my theological formation.

"I was just in awe after realizing last night that grownup me has known you for ten years now. And you're forever chasing some dream and getting there eventually so soldier on!" - Crystal Abidin, on my dreams.

"You belong to us! You are always at home with us. Never forget that, wherever Abba takes you." - Papa Eddie Paul.

"Some people have an uncanny gift of hospitality. Wherever they go, they make everyone around them feel at home in their presence. YOU are one of those unusual and special people, Jael. You take home with you wherever you go ... because you make everyone around you feel at home. Get ready NZ ... something really cool is about to happen to you folks down under!" - Jim Hawkins

Unrelatedly, my gripe for this week is the silly 4-way stop sign turning on to the street outside our neighbourhood. All three years that we have lived in this house, I have hated the double-lane 4-way stop because people don't always stop to allow the ones on the turning lane to turn. Three years later, Indiana drivers are still stupid, and double-lane 4-way stops and train tracks are still annoying.

Random, I know. Life isn't perfect.

But still. So thankful.

I don't have much materially, but what I do have are friends. And I'm thankful. Because technology makes it easier for me to keep them in my pockets rather than having to pay extravagant costs to cart them around the world.

Dear Keren #10 - The Last Supper

Dear Keren,

After a full-day of sitting out in this ridiculous heat waiting for people to show up to the least-attended garage sale so far, I'm completely spent. But I still spent the last 2 hours doing the prep work for dinner tomorrow night. Why, you ask?

Well, it's one of the last suppers.

Tomorrow night, Paul, Debbie and the rest of the gang get home and I'll be done house-sitting. The last time for a while, I guess. Tomorrow night, I return Paul and Debbie the key that I've held on to for a long while "just in case they needed me to check on Fritz." Tomorrow night, we sit and visit with Matt, Tamara, Keira and Judah, and Jenny.

Which makes me wonder, was this what Jesus went through that night of the Last Supper? He knew he was going to see those people at the table again in one of the many rooms in his Father's house. "If it were not so, I would have told you." I'm becoming even more convinced that his anguish about the cross isn't just about the physical pain, but the emotional pain of between the cross until the next time.

And yet, in the midst of all this preparations for the end of this chapter, there's nothing I find myself desiring more than a sense of normalcy. This summer has slipped by way too quickly, and has been a little too spontaneous for my liking. I've greatly missed the intimacy of friendships that normalcy provided. I miss sitting in the SOT computer labs whining about the latest of someone's theological development that is making us wince, or the Charlie Sheen scandal. Instead, I'm being swarmed with questions about how the preparations for New Zealand are going, when all I want to do is scream, what about my soul? Do you care more about the things I'll be doing in New Zealand than about my soul? But if I don't have a soul, I wouldn't be able to do the things in New Zealand anyway.

But to be fair, I don't want to talk about my soul either. Because I'm afraid if I start, I won't be able to stop crying. As it turns out, leaving Anderson is much harder than I thought it would be.

I wonder too, if this was what that whole deal about going into the city, and meeting the man carrying the pitcher of water. I mean, Jesus' disciples were already used to his riddles and mysteries by now, so perhaps getting them to do another ridiculous thing was just another part of this creating normalcy in the midst of the chaos and the internal storms that are brewing.

What was it like for you, in those last moments before the truck got too close? Did you have those internal storms too, in the moments between then and when they finally pulled you off life-support?

Dear Keren, I hate endings, but I love beginnings. I love going, but I hate leaving. I crave normalcy, but I'm also desire adventure. And there's only eleven days left. And I miss you for being my first sense of home in the land of displacement between cultures. And...

In the words of Regina Spektor, "I'll come back when you call me, No need to say goodbye."

Love,
Me

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word


And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry


I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye


Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never
Been this way before


All you can do is try to know
Who your friends are
As you head off to the war


Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light


You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye


You'll come back
When it's over
No need to say good bye


Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget


Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
'Til they're before your eyes


You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say good bye

Friend of the Wind

An old friend from college wrote for this next season of my life. Thank you, B-row.

Friend of the Wind
Take to the skies once more and leave your fears behind you
It's time to fly again, my friend of the wind
Beyond the borders of the walls that could not hold you
His voice is calling now, my friend of the wind

Spread your wings; fly again
Open skies will lead you home

And as the way unfolds the mystery, hope and wonder
You'll learn the reason why, my friend of the wind
Memories of laughter for the friends you left behind you
In time we'll meet again, my friend of the wind

Spread your wings, fly again
Open skies will lead you home

It's still such a long way
But we're drawing closer with each day
To those who've gone on to the hope just beyond this fragile veil

Spread your wings, fly again
Open skies will lead you home

Dear Keren #9 - My Life Is Full

Dear Keren,

I'm sitting in my retreat space, completely surrounded by the bagillion thank-you cards that need to be sent out to the people who have made an impact on my life in the last seven years in Anderson. Right now, my life feels as full of chaos as the stuff that I'm surrounded by, and the condition that my room is in. A part of my stuff is already filling up a suitcase, a couple boxes have been filled that will be going to the garage sale that's happening this weekend, and another trash bag full of stuff that I'm just throwing away or recycling.

And it's 2am, and I'm finally taking a sanity break from this day. I'm still awake, but I think I'm going to go ahead and blame this on the Pacific Northwest for messing up my sleep-cycle. I guess the fact that I'm functioning on my own schedule now doesn't help huh.

These last few days in Anderson are now being filled up faster than I can catch up with.

There's a ton of sorting and packing that needs to be done. And in the middle of doing that, I found a bunch of old photos that I forgot existed. Cards that still make me smile. Papers I had written in undergrad that make me realise how much I had learnt in the last seven years. Not so much about how the dominant seventh chords should resolve, or what songs to teach children for each developmental stage of life they are in, or how to plan a worship service. But realising how focused I was in undergrad that I never really made time for people.

There's errands that need to be run like making sure my car gets sold, the insurance gets cancelled, the bank accounts get taken care of, and silly things like that that's supposed to make life easier but really just complicate it more.

There's a bagillion thank-you cards that need to be made and sent.
And a bagillion people I need to see. I'm getting to the point where I feel like I'm just seeing people for the sake of seeing people and I hate that feeling. Deep down inside, I really wish I could spend more time with each of the people I'm visiting with, but even if I had all the time in the world, it wouldn't be enough. So I pay my dues to each person and I move on. And it drives me crazy after I do that, but I don't know how else to manage.

As I looked through all the junk earlier today, my allergies started going crazy from the dust that had accumulated over the last couple years since the last time I moved. But more than that, for that few seconds, I felt like my soul had just disconnected from my body and, looking at all the junk that surrounded me, realised what a fascinating journey this life so far has been. And I'm only 25, but the Creator still isn't quite done with me yet. How can this be? And what more is there to come?

And sure, I have seven years of junk I need to get rid of, but quite frankly, that's all that is. Junk. The real treasures are the people, and yet I don't even get to carry all of them together with me. It almost feels kinda silly that I'm filling suitcases with clothes and stuff instead of memories.

But yet, as much junk as there is surrounding me, my life is full. Thinking back to the last couple weeks, I've been reminded again and again of all the people I have in my life.

At NAC, I got to spend time with countless old friends from seminary. Friends who, each time I converse with them, fill my soul.
And countless old friends from the missionary community. Friends who relate to my somewhat strange worldview.
And their children. Friends who embrace me with complete abandonment not because I do them favours or anything like that but simply because they love me out of their innocence.
And others in the Church who believe in love.

In the Pacific Northwest, I got to spend time with Arthur and Judy, Dave, DeAnn, Sherri, Neil, Andi and Audrey, Jenny, Dave and Connie, Becca and Ryan, Laura, Jess, Isaac, Minnie and EJ, Ryan, Robin, Ella and Lunden, Lauren, Katie and Ashley, Perry and Carla, Cassie, Bill and Mary, Stephanie and Brett, Kelly, Randee, Sean, Jeff, Christina and Tymon, and Matt and Abbey.

Since coming back to Anderson, I had lunch with Amity, Scott and Rick.
Beaded and talked till 3am with Emy.
Went to Frazier's with Michael.
Frolfed and harassed Coppess with Rick then went to dinner with them.
Visited with Mac and Jean.
Watched Harry Potter with Tim, Nikki, Tim, Kit and Jacob.
Had ribs with Jason, his dad, Michael and Royce.
Had pizza, played Phase10 and watched the Newsies with Julia and B-row.
Hung out at Keren's tree for her birthday.
Caught up with Ryan and Anjie.
Said our "see you again" with Mike and Wendy.
Hung out with Greg, Linda, Nathanael and Abigail, Laura and (crazy drummer) Kirk.
Catch up with Danielle.

And tomorrow I get to have lunch with Jen and Mary.
And play games with Xen and Sarah, and Becca and Ryan.
And have tea with Ann.
And Wiffleball Wedneday.
And lunch with Mac and Jean and the sibs.
And bead and talk some more with Emy.
And Freak Freer-Fry Friday.
And garage sale Saturday with Ginny and JM, John and Elizabeth, and Jason.

I'm blown away that my life can be this full. Because just a few years ago, I wasn't sure I knew how to be in relationship anymore. Remember, we had this conversation just a couple years back? I was just starting to get to the place where I could say ok, I'm ready to have people in my life again. It started slowly, and painfully, this learning to be vulnerable in relationships again. And before I even realised it, four years have passed since the day you went away, and here I am.

Still miss you. Still wish you were here. But my life is so full, and I've never been more thankful.

Love,
Me