The other day I was working in the girls home I work at. I was cleaning so I was in a t-shirt working away hard. One of the staff ladies, who is a friend of mine commented, "Leslie, you are looking healthy." I was proud. Yes, I have been working out a bit although not a lot. But I felt good about myself. But then she said, "You haven't been working out have you." And then it clicked. In India, saying you are healthy is a nice way of saying you are fat. So my good thoughts quickly went to dread. She helped explain it by saying, "Your back side is bigger." I just have to laugh.
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Monday, December 9, 2013
I Looked Good
A few weeks ago I was getting ready for work and really felt good about myself. I was wearing my sister's clothes, so they were nicer then what I buy for myself. I was all ready to go, feeling confident. But then I stepped out of the house at the wrong time. The neighbor lady was coming down the stairs and she was two steps in front of me. She looked good! Her hair was perfect, her clothes were quality, and everything went together (whereas my shoes were tennis shoes and didn't go with my nice outfit). I immediately felt bad about myself (my looks that is). The negative talk started in my head.
A couple of days later the same thing happened again. I felt pretty good, again wearing Kim's clothes and stepped out only to see neighbor lady at the bottom of the steps, being her pretty self.
Today I came to work feeling okay about my appearance, not great but not bad. But then at the start of the team meeting someone said, "You look tired." Geesh. I had to talk myself out of a negative mood again. I admitted to myself that yes, I am tired. I'm not wearing a good color. I don't have any make-up on. So it is probably true that I look tired and just not as good as I could look, BUT it is okay.
Why do I get so caught up in looking good? Who do I want to impress? I could compare myself to others and find a lot of people aren't looking their best every day. Or I could just accept myself for who I am. I am cheap, so my clothes are not as nice as others who spend lots of money. I have dark circles under my eyes, but that is normal for me. I like comfort over fashion, so I don't look like a super model. And inside I am a loving person, who is also loved by many.
A couple of days later the same thing happened again. I felt pretty good, again wearing Kim's clothes and stepped out only to see neighbor lady at the bottom of the steps, being her pretty self.
Today I came to work feeling okay about my appearance, not great but not bad. But then at the start of the team meeting someone said, "You look tired." Geesh. I had to talk myself out of a negative mood again. I admitted to myself that yes, I am tired. I'm not wearing a good color. I don't have any make-up on. So it is probably true that I look tired and just not as good as I could look, BUT it is okay.
Why do I get so caught up in looking good? Who do I want to impress? I could compare myself to others and find a lot of people aren't looking their best every day. Or I could just accept myself for who I am. I am cheap, so my clothes are not as nice as others who spend lots of money. I have dark circles under my eyes, but that is normal for me. I like comfort over fashion, so I don't look like a super model. And inside I am a loving person, who is also loved by many.
Saturday, November 23, 2013
A Beautiful Butterfly
A Story
Charlie had a pet caterpillar. He loved to watch it crawl around. He was looking forward to seeing it transform into a beautiful butterfly. He wondered what color it would be. Finally the caterpillar started making his cocoon. Charlie checked on it every day to see if the butterfly was ready to come out. The day finally came when Charlie saw the butterfly inside start to find his way out. Charlie could see some blue color on it's wing. He knew it would be beautiful.
As Charlie watched the butterfly, he noticed it was struggling. He knew this was part of the development of the butterfly, but it seemed it was starting to die in it's struggle. So Charlie decided to help it just a tiny bit. That gave the butterfly the encouragement to continue struggling for freedom and it was able to escape the cocoon. Charlie felt like a hero.
The butterfly started walking, or crawling on the branch. It was stretching after the tight squeeze. Charlie watched closely as the butterfly became stronger but noticed it's wings didn't straighten out right away. Charlie started to worry that maybe he shouldn't have helped the butterfly with it's process of leaving the cocoon. As Charlie watched, it became apparent that the butterfly was not going to fly. It's wings were too weak. Charlie was very sad, but he told himself at least the butterfly was alive. He was sure it would have died in the cocoon had he not helped it.
* This story doesn't have an ending yet as it is still being written.
Charlie had a pet caterpillar. He loved to watch it crawl around. He was looking forward to seeing it transform into a beautiful butterfly. He wondered what color it would be. Finally the caterpillar started making his cocoon. Charlie checked on it every day to see if the butterfly was ready to come out. The day finally came when Charlie saw the butterfly inside start to find his way out. Charlie could see some blue color on it's wing. He knew it would be beautiful.
As Charlie watched the butterfly, he noticed it was struggling. He knew this was part of the development of the butterfly, but it seemed it was starting to die in it's struggle. So Charlie decided to help it just a tiny bit. That gave the butterfly the encouragement to continue struggling for freedom and it was able to escape the cocoon. Charlie felt like a hero.
The butterfly started walking, or crawling on the branch. It was stretching after the tight squeeze. Charlie watched closely as the butterfly became stronger but noticed it's wings didn't straighten out right away. Charlie started to worry that maybe he shouldn't have helped the butterfly with it's process of leaving the cocoon. As Charlie watched, it became apparent that the butterfly was not going to fly. It's wings were too weak. Charlie was very sad, but he told himself at least the butterfly was alive. He was sure it would have died in the cocoon had he not helped it.
* This story doesn't have an ending yet as it is still being written.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
Halloween or Diwali
Tonight is Diwali. A few nights ago was Halloween. I started to think about these holidays. We don't celebrate Halloween, mostly because we are in India and there is no Halloween here. I guess we kind of celebrate Diwali. At least we enjoy the fireworks that others are setting off. And we let Micah go to some friends house to light fireworks.
One year we were in America during Halloween and Micah dressed up in some old stuff we had and went to two doors. One wasn't home and one was his grandparents. He wasn't too impressed with the whole thing.
I think it is pretty obvious why we don't celebrate Diwali, because it is a Hindu festival and we are Christians. The real part of the holiday is lighting lights around your house to invite Laxmi in to bring you good luck. And the firecrackers are to scare of evil. We don't want any part in inviting Laxmi into our house and I doubt evil is scared by firecrackers.
The question I ask myself is "would I let Micah celebrate Halloween if we were in America?" I don't really like the whole idea of going door to door and getting candy from strangers. I mean, isn't that one of the rules, "Don't take candy from strangers"? And I am cheap so I don't want to hand out candy or decorate the place. And Micah doesn't really eat a lot of sweets, so he doesn't get excited about candy. So what is the point. Maybe it is fun to dress up.
With Diwali I can put a spiritual twist on the holiday at least. I can think about Jesus being the light or that we are the light of the world. We know who the true light is. And we know that He has overcome the evil one. So I don't need to light candles to keep evil away. But Halloween is a bit harder to find a spiritual lesson from. We have kids running around, many times in evil costumes or inappropriate clothing and getting candy. It just seems kind of stupid. But I remember enjoying the different candies and seeing how much we could get. It is just hard to enjoy it anymore. Maybe I have just lost my fun-bone.
One year we were in America during Halloween and Micah dressed up in some old stuff we had and went to two doors. One wasn't home and one was his grandparents. He wasn't too impressed with the whole thing.
I think it is pretty obvious why we don't celebrate Diwali, because it is a Hindu festival and we are Christians. The real part of the holiday is lighting lights around your house to invite Laxmi in to bring you good luck. And the firecrackers are to scare of evil. We don't want any part in inviting Laxmi into our house and I doubt evil is scared by firecrackers.
The question I ask myself is "would I let Micah celebrate Halloween if we were in America?" I don't really like the whole idea of going door to door and getting candy from strangers. I mean, isn't that one of the rules, "Don't take candy from strangers"? And I am cheap so I don't want to hand out candy or decorate the place. And Micah doesn't really eat a lot of sweets, so he doesn't get excited about candy. So what is the point. Maybe it is fun to dress up.
With Diwali I can put a spiritual twist on the holiday at least. I can think about Jesus being the light or that we are the light of the world. We know who the true light is. And we know that He has overcome the evil one. So I don't need to light candles to keep evil away. But Halloween is a bit harder to find a spiritual lesson from. We have kids running around, many times in evil costumes or inappropriate clothing and getting candy. It just seems kind of stupid. But I remember enjoying the different candies and seeing how much we could get. It is just hard to enjoy it anymore. Maybe I have just lost my fun-bone.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Funny Questions I Get Asked
When I use to run the ladies only gym I was asked a lot of medical questions, as if I had some sort of medical training. I would usually give them a serious look and answer the most logically that I could. Then I would look up their questions online and answer them again the next time I saw them. But some questions just baffled me.
One lady was a newly married lady and she called me one day to ask a serious question. It seemed her husband was unable to have children so they had a plan for her to get pregnant by another guy, a friend. But they needed a place for this to take place. So she was asking if they could rent a room for a day in my house. I tried to explain that there were much better ways to go about trying to get pregnant and if they would go to a doctor then he could give them some advice. But she said her husband was too embarrassed and they didn't want his family to find out that he had a problem. So this was their solution. I of course said "no" to their request.
Yesterday another friend called. She asked if I knew of anybody who would want to be a surrogate mother for a friend of hers. Not sure why my name came to mind when she was trying to figure out who might know of someone, but it did. She said they were willing to pay money to the lady. I didn't want to get into how they planned to do this, if it was with a doctor or not. I just told her I really didn't know anyone.
As I was thinking about the whole surrogate mother thing today I decided to look up information about it here in India. It is actually big business. People from all over the world come to have a surrogate mother carry their baby. Ladies who are quite poor have found that it is a good way to make money. To me, the logic doesn't make sense. Why would you want a poor, malnourished lady to carry your baby? I would be worried that the baby would have some deficiencies or something. I saw a picture of one of the babies that was born and it was quite tiny. And one of the ladies said that she is only doing it because she is so poor and it is the only way to make money. Isn't it in a way exploiting them and their situation? They make $5,000. and the doctor makes $25,000. Something just doesn't seem right to me.
One lady was a newly married lady and she called me one day to ask a serious question. It seemed her husband was unable to have children so they had a plan for her to get pregnant by another guy, a friend. But they needed a place for this to take place. So she was asking if they could rent a room for a day in my house. I tried to explain that there were much better ways to go about trying to get pregnant and if they would go to a doctor then he could give them some advice. But she said her husband was too embarrassed and they didn't want his family to find out that he had a problem. So this was their solution. I of course said "no" to their request.
Yesterday another friend called. She asked if I knew of anybody who would want to be a surrogate mother for a friend of hers. Not sure why my name came to mind when she was trying to figure out who might know of someone, but it did. She said they were willing to pay money to the lady. I didn't want to get into how they planned to do this, if it was with a doctor or not. I just told her I really didn't know anyone.
As I was thinking about the whole surrogate mother thing today I decided to look up information about it here in India. It is actually big business. People from all over the world come to have a surrogate mother carry their baby. Ladies who are quite poor have found that it is a good way to make money. To me, the logic doesn't make sense. Why would you want a poor, malnourished lady to carry your baby? I would be worried that the baby would have some deficiencies or something. I saw a picture of one of the babies that was born and it was quite tiny. And one of the ladies said that she is only doing it because she is so poor and it is the only way to make money. Isn't it in a way exploiting them and their situation? They make $5,000. and the doctor makes $25,000. Something just doesn't seem right to me.
Monday, October 21, 2013
How I Overcame Fear
I have anxiety issues. It usually pokes it's head out when we are in the car. I HATE Delhi traffic. All the cars seem really close and it feels to me like we are going to just smash into the car next to us. Sometimes we do.
This past week we went up to the mountain for some camping. The road to get to the camp ground is windy and thin. As you round a corner you must be sure you stay on your side of the road and really pay attention that the car/truck coming at you is also on their side of the road. But if you want to go fast, you don't stay on your side of the road, you just go. And there are no passing lanes. If you want to pass (and you do want to pass every car that is ahead of you) you just do it, even if you can't see if there is a car coming. The car you are passing is suppose to some how signal you that a car is coming. Either the driver turns his blinker on or he puts his hand out the window. This could also mean that it is safe to pass though, so you have to make sure you know what the driver of the other car is thinking.
The last time we made this trip up the mountain I swore I would never do it again. But Micah's birthday happened to be during the school camping trip, so I went along. We took a taxi up the mountain. I tried a new strategy to deal with the fear and anxiety and it worked.
My new strategy is that I tell myself that I am going to die. Most likely it will be a quick death. Either a truck will ram into my side or we will roll of the edge of the mountain. Therefore, I shouldn't be afraid. You see, I'm not afraid of death. And it worked! That and having my eyes closed the whole way.
I decided to try my new trick again in another fearful situation. I went rappelling. I had to climb up a very challenging side of a rock ledge and get to the rappelling rope. I went up pretty confidently, but when I got up to the top I realized it is actually pretty scary. So I told myself, "I am most likely going to die so I should at least enjoy it without fear." And again, it worked. I had no problem stepping over the edge of the rock and rappelling down. Who knows what else I will try. Maybe bungee jumping.
This past week we went up to the mountain for some camping. The road to get to the camp ground is windy and thin. As you round a corner you must be sure you stay on your side of the road and really pay attention that the car/truck coming at you is also on their side of the road. But if you want to go fast, you don't stay on your side of the road, you just go. And there are no passing lanes. If you want to pass (and you do want to pass every car that is ahead of you) you just do it, even if you can't see if there is a car coming. The car you are passing is suppose to some how signal you that a car is coming. Either the driver turns his blinker on or he puts his hand out the window. This could also mean that it is safe to pass though, so you have to make sure you know what the driver of the other car is thinking.
The last time we made this trip up the mountain I swore I would never do it again. But Micah's birthday happened to be during the school camping trip, so I went along. We took a taxi up the mountain. I tried a new strategy to deal with the fear and anxiety and it worked.
My new strategy is that I tell myself that I am going to die. Most likely it will be a quick death. Either a truck will ram into my side or we will roll of the edge of the mountain. Therefore, I shouldn't be afraid. You see, I'm not afraid of death. And it worked! That and having my eyes closed the whole way.
I decided to try my new trick again in another fearful situation. I went rappelling. I had to climb up a very challenging side of a rock ledge and get to the rappelling rope. I went up pretty confidently, but when I got up to the top I realized it is actually pretty scary. So I told myself, "I am most likely going to die so I should at least enjoy it without fear." And again, it worked. I had no problem stepping over the edge of the rock and rappelling down. Who knows what else I will try. Maybe bungee jumping.
Tuesday, October 15, 2013
Facebook Faults
My newly teen son (actually he will be a teen in two days) has Facebook. I didn't really think through the whole Facebook thing before I allowed him to sign up. But now I realize I have to be even more vigilant/diligent to make sure it is a safe place for him.
One issue that just recently came up is the issue of pictures that may not be great for him to look at. I have noticed some young ladies posting their pictures of themselves in small bikinis. I don't really want it to be something that could cause temptation to my son or other young men. So what to do?
Facebook is kind of like giving a photo album of yourself to all your friends. What do you want them to see? Your goofy pictures? Your attractive pictures? Your sexy pictures? Not that last one for sure. But what one person things is okay to show to everyone another person may not. So here are 4 reason I found why you should not post your bikini pictures (or speedo) online.
1) Because EVERYONE that you are friends with (and more, depending on privacy settings) can see these pictures.
Do you really want your teacher to stare at you in your bikini?
2) Because the good guys (i.e. – the guys you want to date) will choose to “hide” those pictures from their newsfeeds anyway
3) Because you’d never post a picture of yourself in your bra and underwear on Facebook
4) Because your beauty is more than your body
It’s a cheap way to get attention, and let’s face it: it’s beneath you. You’re beautiful, and you don’t have to post a half-naked picture of yourself on Facebook to prove it.
A follow up article had comments from guys about what they say regarding #2. If you are interested you can read it here
I can use this as a teaching lesson for my son. I can talk about what he should do when a friend posts a picture of themselves in their bikini or showing too much skin. But because he is a kid and doesn't need to be given a matchbook and told not to light them, I will also block his friends if they post pictures that I don't want him to see.
One issue that just recently came up is the issue of pictures that may not be great for him to look at. I have noticed some young ladies posting their pictures of themselves in small bikinis. I don't really want it to be something that could cause temptation to my son or other young men. So what to do?
Facebook is kind of like giving a photo album of yourself to all your friends. What do you want them to see? Your goofy pictures? Your attractive pictures? Your sexy pictures? Not that last one for sure. But what one person things is okay to show to everyone another person may not. So here are 4 reason I found why you should not post your bikini pictures (or speedo) online.
1) Because EVERYONE that you are friends with (and more, depending on privacy settings) can see these pictures.
Do you really want your teacher to stare at you in your bikini?
2) Because the good guys (i.e. – the guys you want to date) will choose to “hide” those pictures from their newsfeeds anyway
3) Because you’d never post a picture of yourself in your bra and underwear on Facebook
4) Because your beauty is more than your body
It’s a cheap way to get attention, and let’s face it: it’s beneath you. You’re beautiful, and you don’t have to post a half-naked picture of yourself on Facebook to prove it.
A follow up article had comments from guys about what they say regarding #2. If you are interested you can read it here
I can use this as a teaching lesson for my son. I can talk about what he should do when a friend posts a picture of themselves in their bikini or showing too much skin. But because he is a kid and doesn't need to be given a matchbook and told not to light them, I will also block his friends if they post pictures that I don't want him to see.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Hospital Stay
We had a very short stay in the hospital when Steve had his low platelets. I think around 4 hours in one and one hour in the second hospital. The first hospital had lots of people in it. It was very busy. I suspect there were mostly Dengue cases, but there was also a fractured leg that came in and a guy with his stomach so bloated that his belly button was sticking out. I thought he might pop.
Steve didn't like being in the hospital. The bed was very uncomfortable and they hooked him up to an IV, which made him have to go to the toilet more then normal, which is already about every 30 minutes. That means I had to find a nurse to come unhook him and then when he came back I had to find one to hook him back up. There wasn't a chair for me to sit on and if I sat on the bed he said it was going to fall, so I had to stand. I stood next to the garbage cans so each time the nurse brought some dirty gauze, I had to step aside to let them toss it in the garbage.
Steve got hungry while he laid there so I went to the Subway in the hospital, which happens to be the slowest Subway restaurant I have been to. There was only one sandwich being made before me but it took FOREVER.
After a few hours, Steve got tired of laying in bed, so he got up. I was tired, so I laid in the bed for a bit.
I'm so glad he didn't have to stay in the hospital because, selfishly, I would have been exhausted taking care of him.
Steve didn't like being in the hospital. The bed was very uncomfortable and they hooked him up to an IV, which made him have to go to the toilet more then normal, which is already about every 30 minutes. That means I had to find a nurse to come unhook him and then when he came back I had to find one to hook him back up. There wasn't a chair for me to sit on and if I sat on the bed he said it was going to fall, so I had to stand. I stood next to the garbage cans so each time the nurse brought some dirty gauze, I had to step aside to let them toss it in the garbage.
Steve got hungry while he laid there so I went to the Subway in the hospital, which happens to be the slowest Subway restaurant I have been to. There was only one sandwich being made before me but it took FOREVER.
After a few hours, Steve got tired of laying in bed, so he got up. I was tired, so I laid in the bed for a bit.
I'm so glad he didn't have to stay in the hospital because, selfishly, I would have been exhausted taking care of him.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
I'm Weak
Why is it so hard to admit that I am weak? For some reason I like to try to carry a heavy load without help. Or maybe I don't "like" it but I am too proud to ask for help. And I hate accepting help. I always feel like I am bothering people and I don't like that. But really, if I let myself think about it, I am actually being selfish. People want to help. It makes them feel good too. And if I don't let people help me it is taking away from their pleasure.
I came close to tears twice in the last couple of days. One time was when I was calling to order dinner and the place didn't answer. I just couldn't think of what else to eat and I felt the knot in my throat grow that tries to block the tears from coming to my eyes. The other time was when Steve's platelet count was low and there were no beds and he didn't want to stay in the ER. I just couldn't make a decision. I knew it was best for him to be at the hospital if his platelets were going down, but he certainly wasn't going to get any rest. The first time was just silly. I realized I was stressed out. The second time was more serious and I am thankful for friend who I can call. That is me finally letting them help carry the load.
For whatever reason, I put on a face of "I'm not worried." But one thing I realized while Steve has been sick and I have been at a higher level of stress is that I make more jokes when I am stressed. I guess it is a way of coping for me. That and drinking. Drinking Dr. Pepper.
Now let me tell the whole world that I am just as weak as the other weaklings out there. It is all a facade. Underneath the outer shell I am as soft as an uncooked egg. So don't let me trick you. When you ask how I am and I make a joke, it means I'm not doing too well. Since you know that now, you can understand what I really mean and go get me a Dr. Pepper.
I came close to tears twice in the last couple of days. One time was when I was calling to order dinner and the place didn't answer. I just couldn't think of what else to eat and I felt the knot in my throat grow that tries to block the tears from coming to my eyes. The other time was when Steve's platelet count was low and there were no beds and he didn't want to stay in the ER. I just couldn't make a decision. I knew it was best for him to be at the hospital if his platelets were going down, but he certainly wasn't going to get any rest. The first time was just silly. I realized I was stressed out. The second time was more serious and I am thankful for friend who I can call. That is me finally letting them help carry the load.
For whatever reason, I put on a face of "I'm not worried." But one thing I realized while Steve has been sick and I have been at a higher level of stress is that I make more jokes when I am stressed. I guess it is a way of coping for me. That and drinking. Drinking Dr. Pepper.
Now let me tell the whole world that I am just as weak as the other weaklings out there. It is all a facade. Underneath the outer shell I am as soft as an uncooked egg. So don't let me trick you. When you ask how I am and I make a joke, it means I'm not doing too well. Since you know that now, you can understand what I really mean and go get me a Dr. Pepper.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
An Epiphany
An epiphany is an experience of sudden or striking realization. And I just had one. My epiphany was about slavery. I was reading an article on sex trafficking in America. It was talking about Backpage.com that advertises girls for sex. Here is the article http://www.fairobserver.com/article/sex-trafficking-america-role-online-advertisers.
My epiphany was a picture of slavery. Can you imagine a website selling black people as slaves? That is what the modern version of slavery would be like. There were actual markets that people were sold at. Now it would be on Ebay or maybe even we could buy a person on Amazon and have them delivered to us. We could bid on several at a time and watch the price go up. Or maybe we could sell someone. Think of what your description of that person would be like. If you have marketing skills you could probably make them sound very appealing. Maybe show a picture of how strong the person was or what a hard worker they were. Or maybe you could sell your really pretty slave's daughter online. You could get rich. It really is a disturbing thought.
That is exactly what Backpage and other online advertisers are doing. And it should be disturbing to all of us.
33% of the 800,000 children trafficked each year are black. http://www.zimbio.com/Humaning+Trafficking+Awareness/articles/Z3xim9cuDoU/Stealing+Little+Black+Girls
My epiphany was a picture of slavery. Can you imagine a website selling black people as slaves? That is what the modern version of slavery would be like. There were actual markets that people were sold at. Now it would be on Ebay or maybe even we could buy a person on Amazon and have them delivered to us. We could bid on several at a time and watch the price go up. Or maybe we could sell someone. Think of what your description of that person would be like. If you have marketing skills you could probably make them sound very appealing. Maybe show a picture of how strong the person was or what a hard worker they were. Or maybe you could sell your really pretty slave's daughter online. You could get rich. It really is a disturbing thought.
That is exactly what Backpage and other online advertisers are doing. And it should be disturbing to all of us.
33% of the 800,000 children trafficked each year are black. http://www.zimbio.com/Humaning+Trafficking+Awareness/articles/Z3xim9cuDoU/Stealing+Little+Black+Girls
Thursday, September 19, 2013
God is Good
I like to read the comments people write on newspaper articles or other articles online. Usually the comments get off track and instead of commenting on the article, people are spewing their hatred for religion. It doesn’t matter what the article is about, they somehow turn it to religion.
Yesterday I read an article on a baby that was born at 20 weeks and lived for a few minutes and then died. There were pictures of the baby. The point is that many places abort babies at that same age yet to see what the baby looks like makes a person realize that this is not just a bunch of tissue like a tumor, but it is a person.
One of the comments at the end of the article was a lady who shared about twins who were born really early and one died, but one lived and went on to become a pastor and do wonderful things. The next person commented “God is good.” That got things going! We say “God is good!” when something goes right, but what about when things don’t seem good. The other baby died, so how can you say God is good. That is the essence of the argument. I get it. We all do. It’s the age old question. How can a loving God allow bad things to happen?
I don’t have an answer to that question. I could ask it myself about injustices or other really painful experiences people have. We see it all around us, bad things happening. So how do we Christians still love God?
I’m not answering the question here, but rather giving a perspective.
This life is a very small part of life. If you look at a timeline of all of time you would see how small we really are. A speck on the line is our existence. Our little life here on earth is spent trying to stay alive or avoid death. We do everything we can to fight off the inevitable. Then one day we die. But that isn’t the end. It is just the real freedom. This life we live on earth is our time of bondage. The moment of death is our victory. After we defeat death we are free. We no longer have the fear of death. We no longer struggle to stay alive. We can really live.
Yesterday I read an article on a baby that was born at 20 weeks and lived for a few minutes and then died. There were pictures of the baby. The point is that many places abort babies at that same age yet to see what the baby looks like makes a person realize that this is not just a bunch of tissue like a tumor, but it is a person.
One of the comments at the end of the article was a lady who shared about twins who were born really early and one died, but one lived and went on to become a pastor and do wonderful things. The next person commented “God is good.” That got things going! We say “God is good!” when something goes right, but what about when things don’t seem good. The other baby died, so how can you say God is good. That is the essence of the argument. I get it. We all do. It’s the age old question. How can a loving God allow bad things to happen?
I don’t have an answer to that question. I could ask it myself about injustices or other really painful experiences people have. We see it all around us, bad things happening. So how do we Christians still love God?
I’m not answering the question here, but rather giving a perspective.
This life is a very small part of life. If you look at a timeline of all of time you would see how small we really are. A speck on the line is our existence. Our little life here on earth is spent trying to stay alive or avoid death. We do everything we can to fight off the inevitable. Then one day we die. But that isn’t the end. It is just the real freedom. This life we live on earth is our time of bondage. The moment of death is our victory. After we defeat death we are free. We no longer have the fear of death. We no longer struggle to stay alive. We can really live.
Just Listen
Last week I felt like I had a lot to say but for some reason I couldn't get it all out. Finally I talked with a counselor that comes to the home I work at and she listened to me. As I reflected on my time with her, I realized that she didn't offer advice, she only listened. She just sat there while I went on and on talking about what was going on and how I was doing. She might have asked a question or two, but mostly I just talked. I got to the end of all my talking and said, "Well, that's it. I guess I will go get the next person who is going to meet with you."
For several days I thought about feeling not listened to. It really started to irritate me. So much so that I even snapped at Steve when I was talking and he started talking and I felt I wanted to talk more. A normal conversation has two or more people talking, but I didn't want a normal conversation. I wanted a one sided conversation. It wasn't Steve's fault of course. He didn't know that I wanted the floor for my solo act.
I guess that is why I talk to counselors. I just wish I didn't have to pay them to listen to me.
For several days I thought about feeling not listened to. It really started to irritate me. So much so that I even snapped at Steve when I was talking and he started talking and I felt I wanted to talk more. A normal conversation has two or more people talking, but I didn't want a normal conversation. I wanted a one sided conversation. It wasn't Steve's fault of course. He didn't know that I wanted the floor for my solo act.
I guess that is why I talk to counselors. I just wish I didn't have to pay them to listen to me.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
She Didn't Take Her Teddy Bear
This week has been difficult. At the home I work at there has been a lot of stress. One girl has been especially difficult to have in the home. She causes fights and irritates people with her behavior. She doesn’t do what she is told to do and is unruly. Over the weekend she started self harming and talking about suicide. So it was decided that the best option for her would be some serious mental evaluation at a mental hospital for children.
She said she wanted to leave the home. She wanted to return to her village or go to another home. She was very upset. We got the permission we needed to take her in for observation and told her that the following day she could go. We didn’t tell her where she would be going, but she seemed happy about it.
Finally the time came for her to leave. She put on some nice clothes and the care givers packed up her few items. But she said she didn’t want to take anything. I sat there and watched as they put her items in a bag to take anyway. I asked her, “Are you going?” And she burst into tears and buried her head into my lap. I put my arm around her and just sat there while she bawled and said she didn’t want to go. I held up her teddy bear and asked if she wanted to take it, but she refused.
After she left I looked at the teddy bear and just started to cry. I felt so sad for this small girl. She is really all alone in the world. No one was even looking for her. And even though this may be the best thing for her, it felt like another rejection on her life. So I cried.
She said she wanted to leave the home. She wanted to return to her village or go to another home. She was very upset. We got the permission we needed to take her in for observation and told her that the following day she could go. We didn’t tell her where she would be going, but she seemed happy about it.
Finally the time came for her to leave. She put on some nice clothes and the care givers packed up her few items. But she said she didn’t want to take anything. I sat there and watched as they put her items in a bag to take anyway. I asked her, “Are you going?” And she burst into tears and buried her head into my lap. I put my arm around her and just sat there while she bawled and said she didn’t want to go. I held up her teddy bear and asked if she wanted to take it, but she refused.
After she left I looked at the teddy bear and just started to cry. I felt so sad for this small girl. She is really all alone in the world. No one was even looking for her. And even though this may be the best thing for her, it felt like another rejection on her life. So I cried.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Another Mosaic Thought
Today I will be leading a session on brokenness with the girls I work with. I thought I would share it with you too.
Show my broken mug with the handle missing. Ask if the mug is still usable. We could glue the handle back on and use it, but it might break again. Would you give it to a guest to use? What could you use it for? Then take a hammer and pretend to break it. Now what can we use it for? It is just a bunch of broken pieces. We have to be careful with the pieces because they could cut us. We usually just throw the pieces away.
We are all broken. Some of us have just have one big break in our life, like the handle of the mug. We may still be usable like we are or easy to fix. But there will always be a crack in us that is weaker because of the break.
Brokenness usually comes from other people. Tear up a paper doll cut out of a magazine. Not many mugs just break by itself, but usually someone does something that causes the mug to break. Maybe the person doesn't mean to hurt the mug but they are not careful with it and it breaks. Or maybe someone wants to destroy the mug so they take a hammer to it to break it.
Once we are broken it is not easy to fix us. Tear up another paper doll. It isn't like we can go to a doctor and he can glue all our parts back together. It takes a long time. Love is the glue that holds us together.
We will not be the same as we were before. Start gluing the pieces of the paper doll to a coloring page of a fish. But we will be beautiful! We will be different. When we were like the mug, before we were broken, we probably only thought we would be a mug and never imagined being something that is beautiful that people admire.
Brokenness does not need fixing. Brokenness changes us. It is the beginning of something new. Show the finished product of the fish mosaic made from broken dolls.
Show picture of Laxmi - Acid attack survivor
When Laxmi was 15 when a man who wanted to marry her but she refused, threw acid on her. He was sentenced 4 years later to 10 years in prison. For many years Laxmi just hid out at home, depressed and ashamed of her looks. Her friends stopped coming by. Relatives even avoided her. But finally she decided to start really living again. She took tailoring courses and opened a shop up. And now she wants to go on Indian Idol and sing. She has also helped pass a ban on the selling of acid and she speaks up about the horror that happens from the attacks.
Show picture of Shweta - Red-light district, abuse survivor
Shweta was raised in a brothel as her mother is a prostitute. She was also abused by customers and taunted at school. A local NGO came into the red-light district to offer a way out for the children. The children were given the opportunity to be housed and schooled. Shweta got a good education and decided to dedicate her life to helping make change. She received a scholarship to study in America and will come back to help the ladies in the red-light area find new opportunities of employment and give counseling to them.
I couldn't get the pictures to go where they were suppose to go. Oh well.
Show my broken mug with the handle missing. Ask if the mug is still usable. We could glue the handle back on and use it, but it might break again. Would you give it to a guest to use? What could you use it for? Then take a hammer and pretend to break it. Now what can we use it for? It is just a bunch of broken pieces. We have to be careful with the pieces because they could cut us. We usually just throw the pieces away.
We are all broken. Some of us have just have one big break in our life, like the handle of the mug. We may still be usable like we are or easy to fix. But there will always be a crack in us that is weaker because of the break.
Brokenness usually comes from other people. Tear up a paper doll cut out of a magazine. Not many mugs just break by itself, but usually someone does something that causes the mug to break. Maybe the person doesn't mean to hurt the mug but they are not careful with it and it breaks. Or maybe someone wants to destroy the mug so they take a hammer to it to break it.
Once we are broken it is not easy to fix us. Tear up another paper doll. It isn't like we can go to a doctor and he can glue all our parts back together. It takes a long time. Love is the glue that holds us together.
We will not be the same as we were before. Start gluing the pieces of the paper doll to a coloring page of a fish. But we will be beautiful! We will be different. When we were like the mug, before we were broken, we probably only thought we would be a mug and never imagined being something that is beautiful that people admire. Brokenness does not need fixing. Brokenness changes us. It is the beginning of something new. Show the finished product of the fish mosaic made from broken dolls.
When Laxmi was 15 when a man who wanted to marry her but she refused, threw acid on her. He was sentenced 4 years later to 10 years in prison. For many years Laxmi just hid out at home, depressed and ashamed of her looks. Her friends stopped coming by. Relatives even avoided her. But finally she decided to start really living again. She took tailoring courses and opened a shop up. And now she wants to go on Indian Idol and sing. She has also helped pass a ban on the selling of acid and she speaks up about the horror that happens from the attacks.
Show picture of Shweta - Red-light district, abuse survivor
Shweta was raised in a brothel as her mother is a prostitute. She was also abused by customers and taunted at school. A local NGO came into the red-light district to offer a way out for the children. The children were given the opportunity to be housed and schooled. Shweta got a good education and decided to dedicate her life to helping make change. She received a scholarship to study in America and will come back to help the ladies in the red-light area find new opportunities of employment and give counseling to them.
I couldn't get the pictures to go where they were suppose to go. Oh well.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Freedom
Today is India's Independence Day. We are celebrating 67 years of freedom from British rule. Many lives were lost in our struggle for independence. In fact, the area we live in is called Freedom Fighters because there are graves here for those who gave their lives for freedom.
Yesterday the girls at the home I work at had a celebration for Independence Day. They sang songs, did skits, danced, and read poems. It was a very touching celebration. They weren't just celebrating the freedom of India, but they were celebrating another kind of freedom. The freedom they experienced being rescued out of sex trafficking. And it was beautiful!
One of the skits they performed had a girl that was illiterate crying on the street for someone to help her. Then someone came along to give her freedom by teaching her to read. Another example was a 12 year old girl whose mother wanted to marry her off. But someone came and told the mother that she should let her daughter grow up and get education before she gets married. And there was the child domestic servant who was beaten in the home and not paid, and someone came and rescued her out of that. And finally there was the girl who went off with a guy who treated her nicely and then he sold her into prostitution. She was despairing of her life. Then someone came and offered her freedom. For a minute she didn't accept the freedom because she didn't feel worthy of the freedom, but finally she grabbed the rope of freedom and was rescued. As the girls performed the skit it was hard to keep from crying. These girls experienced personally what they were acting out. They know what freedom is. They know that they needed someone to help them to be free.
I was reminded how there are many people who contribute to the freedom of these girls. From the police, the CBI, the NGO's that rescue the girls, the homes that protect them, the people who work with them, the people who give money for the girls, and the prayers for them from people that they will never meet. So many people are sacrificing for the lives of these precious girls. Just like India's Independence took the sacrifice of those fighting, it takes many people sacrificing for these girls.
The girls ended the performance with a dance to this song:
"Who Am I"
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name,
Would care to feel my hurt?
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart?
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours, I am Yours.
Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again?
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me?
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours.
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours, I am Yours, I am Yours.
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
'Cause I am Yours, I am Yours.
As they danced to this song they were mouthing the words and they were worshiping God. For He is the one who rescued them. He has given them new life. He has seen them. The words of the song have totally taken on new meaning to me as I look at it from their perspective. It is so beautiful!
Yesterday the girls at the home I work at had a celebration for Independence Day. They sang songs, did skits, danced, and read poems. It was a very touching celebration. They weren't just celebrating the freedom of India, but they were celebrating another kind of freedom. The freedom they experienced being rescued out of sex trafficking. And it was beautiful!
One of the skits they performed had a girl that was illiterate crying on the street for someone to help her. Then someone came along to give her freedom by teaching her to read. Another example was a 12 year old girl whose mother wanted to marry her off. But someone came and told the mother that she should let her daughter grow up and get education before she gets married. And there was the child domestic servant who was beaten in the home and not paid, and someone came and rescued her out of that. And finally there was the girl who went off with a guy who treated her nicely and then he sold her into prostitution. She was despairing of her life. Then someone came and offered her freedom. For a minute she didn't accept the freedom because she didn't feel worthy of the freedom, but finally she grabbed the rope of freedom and was rescued. As the girls performed the skit it was hard to keep from crying. These girls experienced personally what they were acting out. They know what freedom is. They know that they needed someone to help them to be free.
I was reminded how there are many people who contribute to the freedom of these girls. From the police, the CBI, the NGO's that rescue the girls, the homes that protect them, the people who work with them, the people who give money for the girls, and the prayers for them from people that they will never meet. So many people are sacrificing for the lives of these precious girls. Just like India's Independence took the sacrifice of those fighting, it takes many people sacrificing for these girls.
The girls ended the performance with a dance to this song:
"Who Am I"
Who am I, that the Lord of all the earth
Would care to know my name,
Would care to feel my hurt?
Who am I, that the Bright and Morning Star
Would choose to light the way
For my ever wandering heart?
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours, I am Yours.
Who am I, that the eyes that see my sin
Would look on me with love and watch me rise again?
Who am I, that the voice that calmed the sea
Would call out through the rain
And calm the storm in me?
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours.
Not because of who I am
But because of what You've done.
Not because of what I've done
But because of who You are.
I am a flower quickly fading,
Here today and gone tomorrow.
A wave tossed in the ocean.
A vapor in the wind.
Still You hear me when I'm calling.
Lord, You catch me when I'm falling.
And You've told me who I am.
I am Yours, I am Yours, I am Yours.
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
'Cause I am Yours, I am Yours.
As they danced to this song they were mouthing the words and they were worshiping God. For He is the one who rescued them. He has given them new life. He has seen them. The words of the song have totally taken on new meaning to me as I look at it from their perspective. It is so beautiful!
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
News Blues
Today's newspaper made me sad as I read it. I read an article about a gang-rape court case that the accused were released. It made me really sad and a bit mad. The incident happened in December. Five law students were accused of holding a sixteen year old girl and raping her over several weeks. She had at one point been able to identify them, but at the hearing she said she didn't recognize them, so they were released.
This makes me mad because the judicial system sucks. There should be enough evidence that the guys would be held responsible. If they had killed her they couldn't rely on her testimony, so why if she now refuses to identify them would they let them off.
I am sad because I imagine the girl and her family were threatened. I imagine that the boys had a lot of power on their side.
And I am angry that these guys could in the future be lawyers or even judges. They are corrupt and the system failed this girl. Justice was not done.
This makes me mad because the judicial system sucks. There should be enough evidence that the guys would be held responsible. If they had killed her they couldn't rely on her testimony, so why if she now refuses to identify them would they let them off.
I am sad because I imagine the girl and her family were threatened. I imagine that the boys had a lot of power on their side.
And I am angry that these guys could in the future be lawyers or even judges. They are corrupt and the system failed this girl. Justice was not done.
Monday, August 5, 2013
The Fear of the Lord
We have been reading Proverbs in the morning at breakfast time. It has been really good to read with Micah as he has started back to school. The first few chapters talk about wisdom and understanding and how important they are to get.
So I was thinking just now about the fear of the Lord and what it means. I guess there is a sense of fear in breaking God's laws or doing something that you know is against what God says is good. I was thinking especially of kids who leave home for college and rebel against the faith they have been taught. Could the fear of the Lord keep them from rebelling? For sure there is a sense of wisdom involved in that. I mean, you want your child to grow in his faith and choose the path that is good for him, which means following Jesus. So if your child decides that partying and sleeping around and trying to get away with cheating is an okay thing to do, then they are lacking wisdom. The passage says that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. So if a person actually did fear, as in a scared sense, then it would be good in a way.
I don't want my child to be scared of God. But if you think of it as a parent/child relationship, isn't there a bit of fear involved? If I knew that I was doing something that my parents had told me not to do, then I would do it with a bit of fear. I would know that if I got caught I would be in trouble. And not just trouble. I would know that they would be disappointed. That was worse then trouble. That kind of fear isn't bad to have towards God, is it? If it keeps someone from doing wrong, is that good?
I will keep thinking about the fear of the Lord and what all it means to us as we raise our son. I know for sure that I want him to have the fear of the Lord if it is the beginning of all wisdom. I want a wise son.
So I was thinking just now about the fear of the Lord and what it means. I guess there is a sense of fear in breaking God's laws or doing something that you know is against what God says is good. I was thinking especially of kids who leave home for college and rebel against the faith they have been taught. Could the fear of the Lord keep them from rebelling? For sure there is a sense of wisdom involved in that. I mean, you want your child to grow in his faith and choose the path that is good for him, which means following Jesus. So if your child decides that partying and sleeping around and trying to get away with cheating is an okay thing to do, then they are lacking wisdom. The passage says that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. So if a person actually did fear, as in a scared sense, then it would be good in a way.
I don't want my child to be scared of God. But if you think of it as a parent/child relationship, isn't there a bit of fear involved? If I knew that I was doing something that my parents had told me not to do, then I would do it with a bit of fear. I would know that if I got caught I would be in trouble. And not just trouble. I would know that they would be disappointed. That was worse then trouble. That kind of fear isn't bad to have towards God, is it? If it keeps someone from doing wrong, is that good?
I will keep thinking about the fear of the Lord and what all it means to us as we raise our son. I know for sure that I want him to have the fear of the Lord if it is the beginning of all wisdom. I want a wise son.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Comings and Goings
At our church each week we have new people stand up and introduce themselves. We also have people stand if it is their last Sunday with us. One guy who was visiting stood for both the comings and goings since he was just there a week. I thought that was pretty funny.
Yesterday we had quite a few new people. Each year at this time we have people moving to Delhi to either work in the schools or the embassies. There was only one lady who stood to say it was her last week. She was returning to Denmark or somewhere. The pastor said, "We aren't going to let you go." Then he prayed for her.
As the pastor prayed I started thinking about saying good-bye. It reminded me of death (which I probably think too much about). I was thinking about saying good-bye to someone when they are dying. How the person will be going to a better place (if they are Christians) and how they are happy and ready for the homecoming. Sure they will miss parts of their lives while they were here. They will miss people. But what is waiting for them when they get home is even better. They have family and friends waiting for them. The culture is familiar or at least feels more normal. There is food that is exciting to think about. So many good things.
And that is what heaven is like. We have family and friends waiting, but we also have our heavenly father waiting for us. It will feel like the place we were created to be. It will probably feel familiar and we will be at home. And the food! I bet the food will be better then anything we have ever tasted before. So many good things!
It is hard to say good-bye. It is hard for those we leave behind. All those people who are also wishing they could go home, but it isn't their time yet. Our home going from India will feel good, but imagine how our home going from this life will feel.... Amazing!
Yesterday we had quite a few new people. Each year at this time we have people moving to Delhi to either work in the schools or the embassies. There was only one lady who stood to say it was her last week. She was returning to Denmark or somewhere. The pastor said, "We aren't going to let you go." Then he prayed for her.
As the pastor prayed I started thinking about saying good-bye. It reminded me of death (which I probably think too much about). I was thinking about saying good-bye to someone when they are dying. How the person will be going to a better place (if they are Christians) and how they are happy and ready for the homecoming. Sure they will miss parts of their lives while they were here. They will miss people. But what is waiting for them when they get home is even better. They have family and friends waiting for them. The culture is familiar or at least feels more normal. There is food that is exciting to think about. So many good things.
And that is what heaven is like. We have family and friends waiting, but we also have our heavenly father waiting for us. It will feel like the place we were created to be. It will probably feel familiar and we will be at home. And the food! I bet the food will be better then anything we have ever tasted before. So many good things!
It is hard to say good-bye. It is hard for those we leave behind. All those people who are also wishing they could go home, but it isn't their time yet. Our home going from India will feel good, but imagine how our home going from this life will feel.... Amazing!
Friday, July 26, 2013
Trafficking and Foot Massages
I think way too much about trafficking. I guess it is a hazard of my job. So when I went for the foot massage course last week I started thinking about how easy it would be to trap someone and traffic them.
My friend and I signed up for the course online. We were sent an email to meet at a specific place and we would be picked up by a driver. A lady showed up on a scooter to pick us up. But she could only take us one at a time. So I sent my friend first (brave of me). Then I started thinking as I sat and waited. "What if she is trafficking Sarah?" "I don't know where she took her." "We should have gone my tuk-tuk and just followed her on her scooter." The massage lady came back for me and I got on, trusting that she wasn't going to sell me too.
On my ride to the massage course the lady stopped at a 7-11. I thought, "She could be in there buying drugs to drug me." She came back out and we drove on down small roads to smaller roads. "She could be getting me lost so I won't be able to find my way out of here."
We got to her house where she apparently teaches her massage course and I was glad to see Sarah. We sat on our mats and were ready for the class. It was just the lady and Sarah and I. The lady made a phone call (or received one, I can' remember). I thought, "That could be the person she is going to sell us to. She is telling them that she has us." Since she was speaking in Thai we didn't know what she was saying.
Not too long into our class, three men showed up at the house. She let them in and gave them water and one man sat down and faced us. Awkward. "This is probably the man who is buying us." Two of the guys left. As I thought about how they would get us, I thought they probably needed to drug us. So I stopped drinking the water the lady had given us. I kept my eye on Sarah to make sure she didn't fall asleep. And when you are relaxing while getting a foot massage you look like you are getting drowsy. But I was alert.
Finally the guy left. She said it was a friend that she hadn't seen in 10 years and he was in town just for the day. She went back to the massage class. We finished up our training and were able to leave. So thankful that we were not sold into slavery. Probably because I was so alert. Sarah should thank me.
My friend and I signed up for the course online. We were sent an email to meet at a specific place and we would be picked up by a driver. A lady showed up on a scooter to pick us up. But she could only take us one at a time. So I sent my friend first (brave of me). Then I started thinking as I sat and waited. "What if she is trafficking Sarah?" "I don't know where she took her." "We should have gone my tuk-tuk and just followed her on her scooter." The massage lady came back for me and I got on, trusting that she wasn't going to sell me too.
On my ride to the massage course the lady stopped at a 7-11. I thought, "She could be in there buying drugs to drug me." She came back out and we drove on down small roads to smaller roads. "She could be getting me lost so I won't be able to find my way out of here."
We got to her house where she apparently teaches her massage course and I was glad to see Sarah. We sat on our mats and were ready for the class. It was just the lady and Sarah and I. The lady made a phone call (or received one, I can' remember). I thought, "That could be the person she is going to sell us to. She is telling them that she has us." Since she was speaking in Thai we didn't know what she was saying.
Not too long into our class, three men showed up at the house. She let them in and gave them water and one man sat down and faced us. Awkward. "This is probably the man who is buying us." Two of the guys left. As I thought about how they would get us, I thought they probably needed to drug us. So I stopped drinking the water the lady had given us. I kept my eye on Sarah to make sure she didn't fall asleep. And when you are relaxing while getting a foot massage you look like you are getting drowsy. But I was alert.
Finally the guy left. She said it was a friend that she hadn't seen in 10 years and he was in town just for the day. She went back to the massage class. We finished up our training and were able to leave. So thankful that we were not sold into slavery. Probably because I was so alert. Sarah should thank me.
Friday, July 19, 2013
Foot Massage
Today I went with a friend to be trained in giving Thai foot massages. It was actually pretty simple. So we went to this lady's house where she would first show us what to do on one foot of each of us, then we got to practice on the other foot. We also got a nice little book with pictures to remind us of what to do. So now I am ready to give massages to people. It can be my fall-back plan. If I am ever jobless I can go around offering foot massages.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Hummus
I'm sure hummus is easy to make. I think you just grind up some beans and add garlic, lemon juice, and maybe some salt and pepper. Something like that. Jen, whom I am visiting right now, made some yesterday for dinner. I should have watched her make it. But I get to enjoy the end product. We had it for dinner with other greek food and now I am having lunch of toasted french roll, hummus, tomato, and a cucumber. Oh the joy of having friends that enjoy cooking!
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Oh Indians
We flew to Thailand last night with a plane full of Indians. It is not surprising to be on a plane full of Indians when you leave from India. And it is probably 90% men usually. It seems like many of those people on the plane feel like college students going on a Spring Break trip. They are loud, having fun, and drinking.
I got irritated with the people around me. This also happens after being in India for six months. I am usually at my cultural stress breaking point. The three men in front of me where probably brothers in their 50's. They are all quite large. Most likely they had a bit too much to drink. So when we were around an hour from landing they wanted more food, but the food service was closed. So they were giving the flight attendant a hard time and pushing the call button over and over again and asking for food. Then they said they would have water. But when the flight attendant brought the water they said they only wanted water with their food so if there was no food they didn't want the water.
I also got irritated that we were in turbulence and the people wouldn't sit down. Young guys were standing up leaning over the back of their seats to talk to their friends and singing songs. I kind of wished they would get knocked over.
The thing with Indians on air planes is that they aren't concerned with safety and there are strict guidelines that all air planes have to enforce. But how do you make people wear their seat belts? And people almost always stand up to get their baggage down before we get off the tarmac. I think they are so use to trains, where you have to rush to get off, so they act the same way.
I like rules. And I like people to follow rules.
I got irritated with the people around me. This also happens after being in India for six months. I am usually at my cultural stress breaking point. The three men in front of me where probably brothers in their 50's. They are all quite large. Most likely they had a bit too much to drink. So when we were around an hour from landing they wanted more food, but the food service was closed. So they were giving the flight attendant a hard time and pushing the call button over and over again and asking for food. Then they said they would have water. But when the flight attendant brought the water they said they only wanted water with their food so if there was no food they didn't want the water.
I also got irritated that we were in turbulence and the people wouldn't sit down. Young guys were standing up leaning over the back of their seats to talk to their friends and singing songs. I kind of wished they would get knocked over.
The thing with Indians on air planes is that they aren't concerned with safety and there are strict guidelines that all air planes have to enforce. But how do you make people wear their seat belts? And people almost always stand up to get their baggage down before we get off the tarmac. I think they are so use to trains, where you have to rush to get off, so they act the same way.
I like rules. And I like people to follow rules.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The Body
Last week we were on a spiritual retreat with a group of people up in the mountain. We were surrounded by lakes. Beautiful!
During communion one day a friend sang the song, "How Beautiful" which says,
How beautiful the hands that served
The wine and the bread and the sons of the earth
How beautiful the feet that walked
The long dusty roads and the hill to the cross
How beautiful, how beautiful
How beautiful is the body of Christ
How beautiful the heart that bled
That took all my sin and bore it instead
How beautiful the tender eyes
That chose to forgive and never despise
How beautiful, how beautiful
How beautiful is the body of Christ
I was thinking about the dead body of Jesus and how the ladies came to put spices on his body. Even though it was broken and bruised and bloody, it was still beautiful.
While we were at this retreat, a guy drowned in one of the lakes. He was there with two buddies and they were drinking. He jumped in and didn't come up. His family came from Delhi to find his body. It took 3 or 4 days before the police could snag his body from the bottom of the lake. I imagined his mother receiving his body and washing him and putting clothes on him. And how to her, he was still beautiful because it was her son.
Then I thought about the church. We are the body of Christ. We are also not so pretty to look at by those who don't know us or those who don't love the body. But for those who love the body of Christ, the church is beautiful.
During communion one day a friend sang the song, "How Beautiful" which says,
How beautiful the hands that served
The wine and the bread and the sons of the earth
How beautiful the feet that walked
The long dusty roads and the hill to the cross
How beautiful, how beautiful
How beautiful is the body of Christ
How beautiful the heart that bled
That took all my sin and bore it instead
How beautiful the tender eyes
That chose to forgive and never despise
How beautiful, how beautiful
How beautiful is the body of Christ
I was thinking about the dead body of Jesus and how the ladies came to put spices on his body. Even though it was broken and bruised and bloody, it was still beautiful.
While we were at this retreat, a guy drowned in one of the lakes. He was there with two buddies and they were drinking. He jumped in and didn't come up. His family came from Delhi to find his body. It took 3 or 4 days before the police could snag his body from the bottom of the lake. I imagined his mother receiving his body and washing him and putting clothes on him. And how to her, he was still beautiful because it was her son.
Then I thought about the church. We are the body of Christ. We are also not so pretty to look at by those who don't know us or those who don't love the body. But for those who love the body of Christ, the church is beautiful.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Good Intentions
Today during the devotion time at work we looked at the story of when the Ark of God was being brought back to Israel. 1 Chron. 13. And if you remember, the bulls stumbled and a man put his hand out to steady the Ark and God got angry and killed him. We looked back at the instructions that God gave regarding the handling of the Ark and saw that God specifically stated that if someone touched the Ark they would be killed. Even if they looked at it they would die. So really, it shouldn't be too surprising that this happened, just as God warned. But in our minds we see it as such a small act. And act done with completely good intentions.
I started to think about the whole gay marriage thing going on in America right now. There are many Christians who strongly feel that gays should be allowed to get married. They feel that God wants us to love and accept all people (I feel that way too) and by not allowing them to get married we are judging them. Good intentions. But if we look at God's instructions we would read that He is clearly against gay relationships. He loves and accepts all people. He gives instructions for our well being or because He is Holy.
It is easy to point fingers at areas in life that I already follow but others don't. However, today I am thinking about myself and the areas of my life that don't follow God's instructions. Do I keep the Sabbath? I don't keep it according to the Law. But I do know that God gave us that law for our good and for his holiness. He wants us to rest. He also wants us to keep it holy. I'm not use to really focusing on the sabbath and what I should do on that day, but I want to follow all that God wants me to do, so I should at least look into it and see what it God has to say about it. Even though we are not under the Jewish Law, I believe it was given to help us live lives pleasing to God and for our benefit.
I started to think about the whole gay marriage thing going on in America right now. There are many Christians who strongly feel that gays should be allowed to get married. They feel that God wants us to love and accept all people (I feel that way too) and by not allowing them to get married we are judging them. Good intentions. But if we look at God's instructions we would read that He is clearly against gay relationships. He loves and accepts all people. He gives instructions for our well being or because He is Holy.
It is easy to point fingers at areas in life that I already follow but others don't. However, today I am thinking about myself and the areas of my life that don't follow God's instructions. Do I keep the Sabbath? I don't keep it according to the Law. But I do know that God gave us that law for our good and for his holiness. He wants us to rest. He also wants us to keep it holy. I'm not use to really focusing on the sabbath and what I should do on that day, but I want to follow all that God wants me to do, so I should at least look into it and see what it God has to say about it. Even though we are not under the Jewish Law, I believe it was given to help us live lives pleasing to God and for our benefit.
Day 3 - P90X Pain90Xtreme
I can't sit down without my rear end paining. I can't stand up without my legs hurting. I can't lay down because my stomach is aching. Yes, I have made it again to Day 3 of P90X. Since this is my second time, or maybe third, of doing the P90X routine I shouldn't be surprised. But I am only doing half of the workouts so I thought it wouldn't be as bad. I was wrong. Stairs are the worst and I have three flights to get to the office and a flight at home.
And the worst part about Day 3 of P90X is that I don't see any results yet. I just walk like an old lady which makes me feel like I am really out of shape. Good ego boost. I know I can do it because I've done it before. But I also remember the first week and how I had to crawl up stairs. And I am two or three years older now, so maybe it will take longer to get over the pain and longer to see the gain. Oh well. It gives me something besides the weather to complain about. Bring It!
And the worst part about Day 3 of P90X is that I don't see any results yet. I just walk like an old lady which makes me feel like I am really out of shape. Good ego boost. I know I can do it because I've done it before. But I also remember the first week and how I had to crawl up stairs. And I am two or three years older now, so maybe it will take longer to get over the pain and longer to see the gain. Oh well. It gives me something besides the weather to complain about. Bring It!
The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog
I just finished reading this book, The Boy Who Was Raised As A Dog, and loved it. I found it quite fascinating and informative. So I thought I would write a quick book report for those of you who don't want to buy a book but are interested in how trauma affects young children and the hope for recovery.
This book has true stories that the write and psychiatrist has dealt with. It is a study about children who have experienced severe trauma in their lives, in the form of neglect or abuse, and the brain development. Several cases are of babies who are neglected by their parents or care givers. Either children in orphanages or by parents who didn't realize it was abusive.
There was a couple babies who were left all alone when they were babies over and over again. Because of this trauma or neglect in their life, their brains didn't get to develop the part that learns attachment. So these kids grew up without being able to form attachments with others. One boy continued to not be helped through the system that is meant to help him, special education classes with other troubled kids. When he was a teenager he ended up killing two girls. And he never felt it was his fault. He wasn't able to have empathy. He became a sociopath.
Other children who were also raised with severe neglect turned out much better. One interesting thing that helped them was to be treated as their emotion age when the neglect happened. For instance, if the child was a baby when they were neglected, they need to be held and rocked. He also suggested massage for therapy and a rhythm class. The child should progress quickly in their emotional age and hopefully reach their actual age.
One other cool story was about a girl who was neglected as an infant who went on to lead a good life. She had a daughter that she took good care of, but the daughter wasn't thriving. After 3 years of medical attention that didn't seem to help, the psychiatrist was able to give his advice. What the mother didn't know/learn was how to nurture. She didn't have the natural instincts to rock and hold her baby and comfort her in that way. So the baby girl was like a runt of a litter who didn't take in nutrients even if she was fed them. So the psychiatrist asked a foster mother to take the mother and daughter in for a time. This foster mother was able to model nurturing to the mother. The first month with this lady the girl gained 10 pounds.
As I think about these examples I want to go to orphanages and hold babies. I now see the importance in just holding a baby. They need consistent, meaning the same caregiver, in their lives, which I can't do. But I do hope that people will step in and help. It also makes me think about some of the girls at our home and what they might have missed out on in their lives. I am more aware and hopefully able to detect if they need more nurturing.
This book has true stories that the write and psychiatrist has dealt with. It is a study about children who have experienced severe trauma in their lives, in the form of neglect or abuse, and the brain development. Several cases are of babies who are neglected by their parents or care givers. Either children in orphanages or by parents who didn't realize it was abusive.
There was a couple babies who were left all alone when they were babies over and over again. Because of this trauma or neglect in their life, their brains didn't get to develop the part that learns attachment. So these kids grew up without being able to form attachments with others. One boy continued to not be helped through the system that is meant to help him, special education classes with other troubled kids. When he was a teenager he ended up killing two girls. And he never felt it was his fault. He wasn't able to have empathy. He became a sociopath.
Other children who were also raised with severe neglect turned out much better. One interesting thing that helped them was to be treated as their emotion age when the neglect happened. For instance, if the child was a baby when they were neglected, they need to be held and rocked. He also suggested massage for therapy and a rhythm class. The child should progress quickly in their emotional age and hopefully reach their actual age.
One other cool story was about a girl who was neglected as an infant who went on to lead a good life. She had a daughter that she took good care of, but the daughter wasn't thriving. After 3 years of medical attention that didn't seem to help, the psychiatrist was able to give his advice. What the mother didn't know/learn was how to nurture. She didn't have the natural instincts to rock and hold her baby and comfort her in that way. So the baby girl was like a runt of a litter who didn't take in nutrients even if she was fed them. So the psychiatrist asked a foster mother to take the mother and daughter in for a time. This foster mother was able to model nurturing to the mother. The first month with this lady the girl gained 10 pounds.
As I think about these examples I want to go to orphanages and hold babies. I now see the importance in just holding a baby. They need consistent, meaning the same caregiver, in their lives, which I can't do. But I do hope that people will step in and help. It also makes me think about some of the girls at our home and what they might have missed out on in their lives. I am more aware and hopefully able to detect if they need more nurturing.
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Okra and Carrots
I cooked last night!
I wanted to use some of the wonderful Tillamook Cheese that friends brought us, so I made noodles and cheese sauce. But I also thought that maybe it would be good to have some vegetables. Thankfully we had some in the fridge that were for the rabbits we were watching but were no longer at our house. We had carrots and okra. The rabbits didn't like the okra. I like okra. I decided to try to stir fry it up like our friend Hiroko does. Here is what happened.
I cut up the carrots and okra into nice pieces.
Then I heated up the skillet with olive oil and dumped in the vegetables. I stirred them around.
I have this great sauce I bought in Thailand, but I don't know exactly what it is. I added that.
Some friends were staying with us a few weeks ago and left some parmesan cheese sprinkles that are pretty good, so I added that too.
Ate it up! And it was quite tasty too.
I wanted to use some of the wonderful Tillamook Cheese that friends brought us, so I made noodles and cheese sauce. But I also thought that maybe it would be good to have some vegetables. Thankfully we had some in the fridge that were for the rabbits we were watching but were no longer at our house. We had carrots and okra. The rabbits didn't like the okra. I like okra. I decided to try to stir fry it up like our friend Hiroko does. Here is what happened.
Then I heated up the skillet with olive oil and dumped in the vegetables. I stirred them around.
I have this great sauce I bought in Thailand, but I don't know exactly what it is. I added that.
Some friends were staying with us a few weeks ago and left some parmesan cheese sprinkles that are pretty good, so I added that too.
Ate it up! And it was quite tasty too.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
Pizza Delivery
Two days ago we ordered pizza for dinner. It is probably a weekly occurrence. I like to order online so I don't have to chance getting a person who can't understand me on the phone.
Steve answered the door when the pizza arrived. The pizza man pointed to a lady laying on the ground at the base of the stairs outside our apartment. She had fallen. Steve said to me, "Someone has fallen!" My first thought was that someone fell down the air shaft or the empty elevator shaft. But as I walked out I saw the lady, face down, with her feet still on the stairs. She wasn't moving and we didn't know how long she had been there.
The neighbors also came to their door since the pizza man rang their bell first. So we all rushed out to check on this lady. The poor pizza man was shocked also. He didn't know what to do with the pizzas in his arms. No one was offering to take them and hand him the money because we were too busy trying to help this lady. I got water that the neighbor sprinkled on her face trying to revive her. Steve said, "I don't think she is breathing." So I came rushing to see if I would finally get to use my CPR training. I got a 100% on the first aid training test two years ago and was anxious to use it. But I took her pulse and found that she was alive (thankfully). She started to make small movements in her face so I figured she was breathing. It was decided to move her to the couch. I know you shouldn't move a person until they are evaluated for neck or back injuries, but I wasn't in charge of her care, so she was moved. Steve carried her in since he is so strong.
As the lady laid on our couch, the neighbor went up to find her husband. We continued to put a cold cloth on her forehead and try to rouse her. The husband and a brother in-law came in and sat her up and patted her hand and cheek. Her head flopped back on the couch. Steve offered to drive her to a hospital but the husband said he would do it. We encouraged him to let her lay for a while before taking her home. But probably it was less then 10 minutes before he flopped her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes and carried her upstairs.
I don't know if they took her to the hospital or not. We prayed for Aesha and prayed for wisdom. I plan to go up and ask how she is doing today so that I can sleep at night. Otherwise I just lie in bed wondering what happened to her and if we did the right thing. And now every time I open the door, I look on the ground where she was laying and picture her there. I try not to look out the peephole every time I hear what could be someone falling. And I am thankful we ordered pizza so we could find her and help her there.
Steve answered the door when the pizza arrived. The pizza man pointed to a lady laying on the ground at the base of the stairs outside our apartment. She had fallen. Steve said to me, "Someone has fallen!" My first thought was that someone fell down the air shaft or the empty elevator shaft. But as I walked out I saw the lady, face down, with her feet still on the stairs. She wasn't moving and we didn't know how long she had been there.
The neighbors also came to their door since the pizza man rang their bell first. So we all rushed out to check on this lady. The poor pizza man was shocked also. He didn't know what to do with the pizzas in his arms. No one was offering to take them and hand him the money because we were too busy trying to help this lady. I got water that the neighbor sprinkled on her face trying to revive her. Steve said, "I don't think she is breathing." So I came rushing to see if I would finally get to use my CPR training. I got a 100% on the first aid training test two years ago and was anxious to use it. But I took her pulse and found that she was alive (thankfully). She started to make small movements in her face so I figured she was breathing. It was decided to move her to the couch. I know you shouldn't move a person until they are evaluated for neck or back injuries, but I wasn't in charge of her care, so she was moved. Steve carried her in since he is so strong.
As the lady laid on our couch, the neighbor went up to find her husband. We continued to put a cold cloth on her forehead and try to rouse her. The husband and a brother in-law came in and sat her up and patted her hand and cheek. Her head flopped back on the couch. Steve offered to drive her to a hospital but the husband said he would do it. We encouraged him to let her lay for a while before taking her home. But probably it was less then 10 minutes before he flopped her over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes and carried her upstairs.
I don't know if they took her to the hospital or not. We prayed for Aesha and prayed for wisdom. I plan to go up and ask how she is doing today so that I can sleep at night. Otherwise I just lie in bed wondering what happened to her and if we did the right thing. And now every time I open the door, I look on the ground where she was laying and picture her there. I try not to look out the peephole every time I hear what could be someone falling. And I am thankful we ordered pizza so we could find her and help her there.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Revictimization
As I hear the stories of different girls that have been abused, I am shocked that so many try to get away only to find themselves in a new abusive situation. This is called Revictimization. I didn't know that it is common with victims of sexual abuse. It is almost as if a victim has a sign on them that says "abuse me" and they can't get it off. One of our goals is to help our girls be safe from being retrafficked or reabused.
Not all victims are vulnerable. Some become distrusting of everyone. But one report stated that two-thirds of victims of incest experience rape later in their lives. TWO -THIRDS! This brings tears to my eyes. These poor children who are abused by a family member, a person who should be showing them love, is then victimized again.
I did a very short study on why this happens by looking it up on the internet. Some of the reasons make sense. Sadly, one effect of trauma is that a person will have an inaccurate sense of danger. There is an emotional desire to trust someone and they will easily let themselves trust. They don't recognize the signs that may be obvious to others. Another reason is that the victim's understanding of what love is is obscured. They understand love comes along with pain. And victims have a sense of helplessness that puts them in vulnerable situations when they can't stand-up against unwanted sexual advancements. And then a low self-image may lead to risky behavior or substance abuse.
The two main contributing factors to a person being revictimized is PTSD and self-blame. These must be our focus areas for helping a girl to not be hurt again.
Not all victims are vulnerable. Some become distrusting of everyone. But one report stated that two-thirds of victims of incest experience rape later in their lives. TWO -THIRDS! This brings tears to my eyes. These poor children who are abused by a family member, a person who should be showing them love, is then victimized again.
I did a very short study on why this happens by looking it up on the internet. Some of the reasons make sense. Sadly, one effect of trauma is that a person will have an inaccurate sense of danger. There is an emotional desire to trust someone and they will easily let themselves trust. They don't recognize the signs that may be obvious to others. Another reason is that the victim's understanding of what love is is obscured. They understand love comes along with pain. And victims have a sense of helplessness that puts them in vulnerable situations when they can't stand-up against unwanted sexual advancements. And then a low self-image may lead to risky behavior or substance abuse.
The two main contributing factors to a person being revictimized is PTSD and self-blame. These must be our focus areas for helping a girl to not be hurt again.
Taco Potluck
I was just sitting here thinking (I wonder how many of my posts start with that sentence) about tacos and potlucks. Then as my mind kept thinking, I came up with the taco potluck idea. It is a great twist on the old favorite, potlucks.
The church (since churches are the only ones I know who have potlucks) can provide the venue for this event. Maybe on May the 5th. You could have an online list that people can sign up with if they want to, to make sure you have the basics covered.
Tortilla chips
guacamole
sour cream
beans
cheese
onions
tomatoes
meat
lettuce
scrambled eggs
sausage
tortilla shells
salsa
rice
surprise me
Then you just invite everyone to come. Simple, dimple. Go ahead and try it.
The church (since churches are the only ones I know who have potlucks) can provide the venue for this event. Maybe on May the 5th. You could have an online list that people can sign up with if they want to, to make sure you have the basics covered.
Tortilla chips
guacamole
sour cream
beans
cheese
onions
tomatoes
meat
lettuce
scrambled eggs
sausage
tortilla shells
salsa
rice
surprise me
Then you just invite everyone to come. Simple, dimple. Go ahead and try it.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Mini Owl Pillow
I made a Pintrest page last week so that I could keep track of the craft ideas I have to do with Micah. One of the great ideas I found (on a friend's page) was these adorable little owls.
http://pinterest.com/pin/384846730628150324/
So Micah and I set out to make them. I had Micah draw the pattern since he is good with drawing things. Then I found an old kurta (shirt) to cut up. I got some white and black felt and pulled at the sewing machine. We were set. It didn't take long and Micah did a great job of stitching on the black of the eyes by himself.
http://pinterest.com/pin/384846730628150324/
So Micah and I set out to make them. I had Micah draw the pattern since he is good with drawing things. Then I found an old kurta (shirt) to cut up. I got some white and black felt and pulled at the sewing machine. We were set. It didn't take long and Micah did a great job of stitching on the black of the eyes by himself.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Stupid People
I read a lot of news articles on trafficking and rape from around the world. Today I was reading one about a girl here in Delhi who ran away from home because she was being raped by her father. She ran away with the help of a neighbor boy who is around 17. What makes me mad, and I think is stupid, are the comments people make about the article. I don't know why I read them because they are always filled with idiots making comments. But many of the comments say that the girl was probably running off with the boy and having sex with him and that she should be punished.
WHAT?????
So many people assume that the girl is guilty and that she is lying, without knowing anything about her. This is what is wrong with this country. People are quick to blame the girl. They assume the girl has done something wrong.
WHAT?????
So many people assume that the girl is guilty and that she is lying, without knowing anything about her. This is what is wrong with this country. People are quick to blame the girl. They assume the girl has done something wrong.
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Trafficking in America
"I've only done this vice-squad job for three years. I've been a cop
for 29. If you had told me three years ago that a 14-year-old girl would
go to a food court, meet a guy, and three hours later be selling
herself, I'd a said, no frigging way. It happens every single day,
every day."
This was a quote I read today in this article http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dan-rather/pornland-oregon-child-pro_b_580035.html
As I read about trafficking and prostitution I feel so sad. Why are these young girls falling for these tricks? But it all comes down to wanting to be loved (in my opinion). Then I think of the girls we have in our aftercare home and see the same thing happening with them. This deep desire to be loved. So when someone shows you attention, you are drawn to them. They are the band-aid on your wound.
Malls seem to be a pick-up place for a lot of girls in America. I wonder if there needs to be more awareness done in malls. Signs could be hung in food courts, or even on the paper that is put on the trays of food. The mall security people could be trained in trafficking awareness. Who knows how many girls could be saved before they enter into this horrendous trap.
Here is a youtube skit on Human Trafficking that I thought was good.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qA3hU7fJzvg
This was a quote I read today in this article http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dan-rather/pornland-oregon-child-pro_b_580035.html
As I read about trafficking and prostitution I feel so sad. Why are these young girls falling for these tricks? But it all comes down to wanting to be loved (in my opinion). Then I think of the girls we have in our aftercare home and see the same thing happening with them. This deep desire to be loved. So when someone shows you attention, you are drawn to them. They are the band-aid on your wound.
Malls seem to be a pick-up place for a lot of girls in America. I wonder if there needs to be more awareness done in malls. Signs could be hung in food courts, or even on the paper that is put on the trays of food. The mall security people could be trained in trafficking awareness. Who knows how many girls could be saved before they enter into this horrendous trap.
Here is a youtube skit on Human Trafficking that I thought was good.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qA3hU7fJzvg
Monday, May 27, 2013
Too Hot To Trot
Yes, it is time for me to complain about being hot. I am sitting in an air conditioned room and still sweating. Is this menopause?
Yesterday I and a friend braved the heat to go shopping. Wow! Even though it was after 6PM the heat was still baking. We felt hot wind blow on our faces as we pushed our way through the crowd of sweaty people, trying to find a few bracelets and maybe a t-shirt or two. We were probably only out for an hour, but by the end I felt the need for an ice bath.
The heat is way over my comfort level. I lay around at home under the ceiling fan. I have no energy, no appetite, no desire to do anything. I know that the other millions of people are suffering along with me, but they seem to do it less dramatically. I need to figure out how to thrive in this heat.
I looked up online to find things to do in really hot weather. All the ideas were outside activities. Stupid. Who wants to try to do anything outside. And water activities do not work. The water is hotter then the air. So that leaves me with indoor activities that I can do in front of or below a fan. Puzzles, movies, sleeping, .... that is all I can think of. If you have some good, low energy ideas, please leave a comment. I want to thrive in the heat (if I can first of all survive it).
Yesterday I and a friend braved the heat to go shopping. Wow! Even though it was after 6PM the heat was still baking. We felt hot wind blow on our faces as we pushed our way through the crowd of sweaty people, trying to find a few bracelets and maybe a t-shirt or two. We were probably only out for an hour, but by the end I felt the need for an ice bath.
The heat is way over my comfort level. I lay around at home under the ceiling fan. I have no energy, no appetite, no desire to do anything. I know that the other millions of people are suffering along with me, but they seem to do it less dramatically. I need to figure out how to thrive in this heat.
I looked up online to find things to do in really hot weather. All the ideas were outside activities. Stupid. Who wants to try to do anything outside. And water activities do not work. The water is hotter then the air. So that leaves me with indoor activities that I can do in front of or below a fan. Puzzles, movies, sleeping, .... that is all I can think of. If you have some good, low energy ideas, please leave a comment. I want to thrive in the heat (if I can first of all survive it).
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Dead Puppies Aren't Much Fun!
This morning, Steve and I were talking about the little puppy that has been down stairs at our apartment building. He is always so happy to see us. He wags his little tail and comes to smell your toes. So cheery for a street dog that has nothing. But this morning he wasn't in his usual spot at the bottom of the stairs. I looked for him but he wasn't there. Then I walked out the gate and saw that the sweet little puppy got ran over right in front of our apartment. There he was. Dead.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Uranus has Violent Winds
The heading on a news article this week cracked me up, "Gassy Uranus has Violent Winds". I'm thinking about bring it up in a few conversations. "Hey, did you hear Uranus has violent winds?"
Anyway, today on the way to church we stopped to get gas. That is my segue into the story of our car breaking down. We stopped to get gas and Steve asked them to fill the coolant also. For some strange reason, unknown to me, here in India, women work at gas stations. They usually don't work in restaurants as waitresses, but they work as gas pump attendants. So the ladies were filling our gas and Steve opened the hood only to discover that the pipe of the radiator had a big, gaping hole in it.
The car wouldn't start after the discovery so the ladies had Steve get back in the car and they pushed us to a parking spot. Again I thought, "Why women?" Steve asked them to call a mechanic. I went inside the mini mart that this gas station thankfully had and bought a coke and some munchies. It is a strange mini mart. It had an Archies in it, which is like a Hallmark store. So there were some stuffed animals and games and niknaks. Then there were videos, including playboy. Then there was lots of imported food. I didn't buy any of that stuff, just a coke and some chips of the Indian kind.
Soon the mechanic showed up in his "car help" van. He checked out the engine and drove off to get the new parts. We sat some more in the car, watching people. I noticed how one of the gas station lady's job is to wash the windows. Many times she would be still working on the back window when the car would just drive away. Thankless job. Finally our mechanic came back and fixed us all up. The charge was 1100, but Steve tipped him another 100. So in dollars, that is $24. for a mechanic to come save us. Pretty good. And we were still on time to church since we were going for worship practice early.
Anyway, today on the way to church we stopped to get gas. That is my segue into the story of our car breaking down. We stopped to get gas and Steve asked them to fill the coolant also. For some strange reason, unknown to me, here in India, women work at gas stations. They usually don't work in restaurants as waitresses, but they work as gas pump attendants. So the ladies were filling our gas and Steve opened the hood only to discover that the pipe of the radiator had a big, gaping hole in it.
The car wouldn't start after the discovery so the ladies had Steve get back in the car and they pushed us to a parking spot. Again I thought, "Why women?" Steve asked them to call a mechanic. I went inside the mini mart that this gas station thankfully had and bought a coke and some munchies. It is a strange mini mart. It had an Archies in it, which is like a Hallmark store. So there were some stuffed animals and games and niknaks. Then there were videos, including playboy. Then there was lots of imported food. I didn't buy any of that stuff, just a coke and some chips of the Indian kind.
Soon the mechanic showed up in his "car help" van. He checked out the engine and drove off to get the new parts. We sat some more in the car, watching people. I noticed how one of the gas station lady's job is to wash the windows. Many times she would be still working on the back window when the car would just drive away. Thankless job. Finally our mechanic came back and fixed us all up. The charge was 1100, but Steve tipped him another 100. So in dollars, that is $24. for a mechanic to come save us. Pretty good. And we were still on time to church since we were going for worship practice early.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Pooless Wonder
I have been trying to go without shampoo for around 10 days now. I think I actually caved twice during that time and used shampoo. My biggest issue is itchy scalp. I have had an itchy scalp for as long as I can remember (42 years maybe). Steve thinks I should go to a dermatologist but I will probably not get around to that unless I happen to be walking past an office of one while I am out and about one day. So instead I go to my own doctor, the internet.
The pooless recipe is baking soda. And the anti-itchy scalp remedy is also baking soda. For pooless you use it mixed with a lot of water, but for anti-itch you use it like a past. So I tried that this morning. I have gone several hours without itching, which is pretty good I think. But now that I started thinking about my scalp I feel the urge to scratch. So the next remedy is yogurt on my head for 30 minutes. My problem is not knowing where to sit while I wait those 30 minutes with yogurt on my head. Do I sit on the floor of the shower? And what should I do while I wait? Maybe I could paint my nails or something like that.
I don't know if I can make it to completely pooless status, but I am trying. I like the fact that I will be saving money and it sounds cool to be helping the environment. An added benefit is that it keeps my shower a bit cleaner too. Oh, it just occurred to me what I can do while I am waiting the 30 minutes. I can clean the shower with my head.
The pooless recipe is baking soda. And the anti-itchy scalp remedy is also baking soda. For pooless you use it mixed with a lot of water, but for anti-itch you use it like a past. So I tried that this morning. I have gone several hours without itching, which is pretty good I think. But now that I started thinking about my scalp I feel the urge to scratch. So the next remedy is yogurt on my head for 30 minutes. My problem is not knowing where to sit while I wait those 30 minutes with yogurt on my head. Do I sit on the floor of the shower? And what should I do while I wait? Maybe I could paint my nails or something like that.
I don't know if I can make it to completely pooless status, but I am trying. I like the fact that I will be saving money and it sounds cool to be helping the environment. An added benefit is that it keeps my shower a bit cleaner too. Oh, it just occurred to me what I can do while I am waiting the 30 minutes. I can clean the shower with my head.
Monday, May 13, 2013
Murder for Hire
I haven't been following the Dr. Gosnell case much, but I see today that he was found guilty of murder. What he did in his clinic is horrible and sick. And not just him. All his staff who participated in these horrific killings are guilty. But I also think that the mothers of these children are equally guilty. Yet no one seems to be talking about the women who paid someone to kill their child. Isn't it ironic that a lady can go to a "doctor" and pay him to abort a baby that could live outside the womb and she isn't held responsible, yet if she were to be the one to give birth and then slice the baby's throat in a hospital (or anywhere else) that she would be held guilty of murder? When does her "right" become murder? After natural delivery only?
I am reminded again of my previous post about the baby who was found on a footpath beheaded here in Delhi. I bet the person who did that to the baby would be called a murderer. How different is abortion? As long as the baby is killed and dismembered in the safety of the womb we don't call it murder but call it a woman's right. The more you let yourself think about it the clearer it becomes. Just because abortion is legal up to a certain month doesn't make it right. Abortion is murder!
I am reminded again of my previous post about the baby who was found on a footpath beheaded here in Delhi. I bet the person who did that to the baby would be called a murderer. How different is abortion? As long as the baby is killed and dismembered in the safety of the womb we don't call it murder but call it a woman's right. The more you let yourself think about it the clearer it becomes. Just because abortion is legal up to a certain month doesn't make it right. Abortion is murder!
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Trauma Therapy
I don't quite know what I should do for my therapy sessions in dealing with trauma, but for starters I will blog about it. I don't have normal trauma. My trauma comes from being empathetic to others. Or from letting my thoughts go wild.
The other day I was just reading the newspaper when I experience a traumatic event. Just reading the newspaper! There are always little squares of Missing Person or Seeking Identification that I for some reason read. Sometimes I read them because I find it comical how few details they have about a person or how they describe someone. But that day I saw a disturbing picture. It was a picture of a dead body that they were looking for identification. The thing is it was a newborn baby and the head was missing. There is no way to identify it because I am sure the mother just left it on a pathway after giving birth. But to see that poor baby all sprawled out naked and thinking about the value of life made me sick. Why do the newspapers post things like that? Why do people kill their babies? It just really disturbed me.
And then a totally different area that I think traumatizes me is walking in front of the security guards at the metro stations. They hold their rifles out, often just resting them on the sandbags. I can't help imagining the gun going off while I walk in front of it. I always speed up my step.
And of course, thinking about the stories of the girls who come to our aftercare home is probably traumatizing me in a way. The things this girls go through is horrific. And knowing that most of the people are still free, walking around, abusing others is not a comforting thought. I want to see justice done.
So if anyone has some good advice for me I am listening
The other day I was just reading the newspaper when I experience a traumatic event. Just reading the newspaper! There are always little squares of Missing Person or Seeking Identification that I for some reason read. Sometimes I read them because I find it comical how few details they have about a person or how they describe someone. But that day I saw a disturbing picture. It was a picture of a dead body that they were looking for identification. The thing is it was a newborn baby and the head was missing. There is no way to identify it because I am sure the mother just left it on a pathway after giving birth. But to see that poor baby all sprawled out naked and thinking about the value of life made me sick. Why do the newspapers post things like that? Why do people kill their babies? It just really disturbed me.
And then a totally different area that I think traumatizes me is walking in front of the security guards at the metro stations. They hold their rifles out, often just resting them on the sandbags. I can't help imagining the gun going off while I walk in front of it. I always speed up my step.
And of course, thinking about the stories of the girls who come to our aftercare home is probably traumatizing me in a way. The things this girls go through is horrific. And knowing that most of the people are still free, walking around, abusing others is not a comforting thought. I want to see justice done.
So if anyone has some good advice for me I am listening
Sunday, May 5, 2013
Stupid Rules
I read this morning about a boy who has a skin disease so he is growing his hair long to help cover some of the bald spots. He is not allowed in his school because of the hair length rule. http://www.foxnews.com/us/2013/05/05/pennsylvania-boy-with-skin-disease-sent-home-from-school-over-haircut/
Yesterday there was a news report about a boy whose team one the State Championship but they were disqualified because the boy raised his finger to God in thanks. The rule is that you can't celebrate your win (or something like that).http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2319303/High-school-track-team-disqualified-state-championships-religious-hand-gesture.html
And how many stories have we heard now about guns being made out of pop tarts or sticks or paper and the kid getting suspended.
I understand that there needs to be guidelines and all, but really, it seems that some situations are not black and white. When there are stupid rules it only creates rebellion. There is a verse in the Bible written as instruction to fathers that says, "Don't exasperate your child" or "Do not provoke them to wrath." It would be good for schools to remember this bit of advise too.
Yesterday there was a news report about a boy whose team one the State Championship but they were disqualified because the boy raised his finger to God in thanks. The rule is that you can't celebrate your win (or something like that).http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2319303/High-school-track-team-disqualified-state-championships-religious-hand-gesture.html
And how many stories have we heard now about guns being made out of pop tarts or sticks or paper and the kid getting suspended.
I understand that there needs to be guidelines and all, but really, it seems that some situations are not black and white. When there are stupid rules it only creates rebellion. There is a verse in the Bible written as instruction to fathers that says, "Don't exasperate your child" or "Do not provoke them to wrath." It would be good for schools to remember this bit of advise too.
Be Anxious About Nothing
I have been taking anti-anxiety medicine for around 8 years now I think. I guess I have an issue with anxiety. Well lately it seems the medicine has stopped working or else my anxiety has increased beyond what the medicine helps. So I have been trying to figure out how to help get things under control. Not being in control tends to make me anxious, so if I can get control of my anxiety I am sure it will help me not be anxious.
One thing I have done is to read scripture about anxiety or worry. That hasn't been a huge help, although it does give me something to think about when I get anxious and it slowly can turn my mind away from whatever is causing me worry at the moment.
Another trick is to go to my "happy place". Sometimes that is a nice outdoor scene with a stream or a waterfall.
I am also following a therapist online that gives me emails with some suggestions. This week it was to list out everything that I feel anxious about and then change my thought by asking a questions. For instance, if I am worried about being late to church I could ask myself, "How will I get to church on time?" Then it makes my mind focus on positive solutions and away from the worry. Something like that.
So here is my list.
I will get hit by a car while crossing the road
No one will stand up for me
I will get yelled at
Steve will make someone mad with his driving and they will hit him
I will get hit by a car from behind while walking
Someone will snatch my bag
I will get pick-pocketed
I won't get a ride for a long time (rickshaw)
I will be late
Micah will get hurt
People won't remember my name
I will sweat a lot
Steve will want me to have a dinner plan
Not much of a list really, but it seems to trigger something in me. Not sure how my "How" questions help, but yesterday I tried it out with one. My worry was getting hit by a car while walking. The "how" questions is something like, "How can I avoid getting hit while walking?" So I tell myself, if I face the traffic I will be better off. But then I start thinking about all the times when I was facing traffic and a car or motorcycle came from behind me on the wrong side of the road and almost hit me. So what else can I do? I can make sure I walk as far from the cars as possible. But that is where people are standing to pee on the wall or else there is some other obstacle in the way. Then I ask myself, "What is the worse that would happen in reality?" The answer is that I would break my arm or get knocked down and cause a scene. That isn't the end of the world, so there is nothing to worry about. Ta da! I got to the point of realizing that there is no need to worry. And I made it home.
One thing I have done is to read scripture about anxiety or worry. That hasn't been a huge help, although it does give me something to think about when I get anxious and it slowly can turn my mind away from whatever is causing me worry at the moment.
Another trick is to go to my "happy place". Sometimes that is a nice outdoor scene with a stream or a waterfall.
I am also following a therapist online that gives me emails with some suggestions. This week it was to list out everything that I feel anxious about and then change my thought by asking a questions. For instance, if I am worried about being late to church I could ask myself, "How will I get to church on time?" Then it makes my mind focus on positive solutions and away from the worry. Something like that.
So here is my list.
I will get hit by a car while crossing the road
No one will stand up for me
I will get yelled at
Steve will make someone mad with his driving and they will hit him
I will get hit by a car from behind while walking
Someone will snatch my bag
I will get pick-pocketed
I won't get a ride for a long time (rickshaw)
I will be late
Micah will get hurt
People won't remember my name
I will sweat a lot
Steve will want me to have a dinner plan
Not much of a list really, but it seems to trigger something in me. Not sure how my "How" questions help, but yesterday I tried it out with one. My worry was getting hit by a car while walking. The "how" questions is something like, "How can I avoid getting hit while walking?" So I tell myself, if I face the traffic I will be better off. But then I start thinking about all the times when I was facing traffic and a car or motorcycle came from behind me on the wrong side of the road and almost hit me. So what else can I do? I can make sure I walk as far from the cars as possible. But that is where people are standing to pee on the wall or else there is some other obstacle in the way. Then I ask myself, "What is the worse that would happen in reality?" The answer is that I would break my arm or get knocked down and cause a scene. That isn't the end of the world, so there is nothing to worry about. Ta da! I got to the point of realizing that there is no need to worry. And I made it home.
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Guns and Rape and Abortion and Other Thoughts
I have nothing to do today so I am looking online a bunch. I read that Obama went to a Planned Parenthood gathering and praised them for their great work and promised that they would continue to receive our tax funding. That makes me sick! My tax dollars don't go to that, but it is sick that everyone is required to help out on the murder of children. My money goes to pay for the travel of my friends who work here in India at the Embassy or for the government. At least that is what I like to think. My money does not go toward murder. And that is what abortion is.
Then I read about how many rapes have happened in Delhi. So far, there have been about 400 this year. We will break the yearly records for sure. This will go down as the year of the most rapes in the capital. This week was the little 5 year old girl who was raped and tortured and left for dead, but who is now fighting for her life in a hospital.
Because of all the rapes, the number of women who are applying for gun ownership. Women feel that the police aren't going to help them so they need to help themselves. I think of America that wants to stop people from owning guns and I don't like that. I think people have a right to protect themselves if they feel they need to.
Then I read again the story of the Clackamas shooting last year and how the gunman was stopped because he saw someone pointing a gun at him. So he shot himself. At least that is what I think happened. I wonder how many others would have died if there wasn't the guy carrying a gun.
Sure there are crazy, sick, evil people out in the world. Some are applauded for what they do. Others get away with what they do. And some are stopped by a person who is in the right place at the right time. We need more heroes.
Then I read about how many rapes have happened in Delhi. So far, there have been about 400 this year. We will break the yearly records for sure. This will go down as the year of the most rapes in the capital. This week was the little 5 year old girl who was raped and tortured and left for dead, but who is now fighting for her life in a hospital.
Because of all the rapes, the number of women who are applying for gun ownership. Women feel that the police aren't going to help them so they need to help themselves. I think of America that wants to stop people from owning guns and I don't like that. I think people have a right to protect themselves if they feel they need to.
Then I read again the story of the Clackamas shooting last year and how the gunman was stopped because he saw someone pointing a gun at him. So he shot himself. At least that is what I think happened. I wonder how many others would have died if there wasn't the guy carrying a gun.
Sure there are crazy, sick, evil people out in the world. Some are applauded for what they do. Others get away with what they do. And some are stopped by a person who is in the right place at the right time. We need more heroes.
Friday, April 5, 2013
Sickness
Yesterday I was sick with what we call here, loose motions. Not sure what it came from since we all ate the same thing the night before. I woke with a slight tummy ache and it started easing down to the bowel area. And then my bowels became liquid fire. Not sure how that happens. How is it that your bowel are solid but somehow they become liquid. Weird.
In our family, when someone is sick, they have to be far away from the other members. We don't want others getting sick. Sometimes Steve forgets and he tries to kiss me. I know that subconsciously he wants to get sick so he can get babied. We make the sick person sleep in the garage on a cot instead of in the bed. I mean, who wants to wash all the sheets just because of some germs. So the person has to sleep out in the garage to keep the germs away from everyone else. And we put a baby monitor out there so if they need something, the person inside can help them.
Very seldom have we had a sickness pass around the family. Thankfully this time was no different. No one else has loose motions today.
In our family, when someone is sick, they have to be far away from the other members. We don't want others getting sick. Sometimes Steve forgets and he tries to kiss me. I know that subconsciously he wants to get sick so he can get babied. We make the sick person sleep in the garage on a cot instead of in the bed. I mean, who wants to wash all the sheets just because of some germs. So the person has to sleep out in the garage to keep the germs away from everyone else. And we put a baby monitor out there so if they need something, the person inside can help them.
Very seldom have we had a sickness pass around the family. Thankfully this time was no different. No one else has loose motions today.
Ears
Have you ever wondered what your ears look like? It is hard to get a good look at them. And never side by side. I could take a picture I suppose. But my mind wonders to other ears before I get around to it.
Like the ear on the mouse.
This is weird. I remember reading about this ear that has been grown on this mouse so that it can be transplanted onto some guy who has lost his ear. I wonder how the mouse feels about this. His friends probably picked on him for his big ear. I know kids do that to each other. And I wonder if he ever felt like nibbling it off. Mice do weird things sometimes.
And when they removed the ear, what happened to the mouse. He suddenly couldn't hear very well. He was use to having super hearing and never had to worry about a cat sneaking up on him. But now he had to rely on his little ears. And where did they get the extra mouse skin to do a skin graft on his back.
And then there is the guy who got the mouse ear. When he feels his ear does he jump. Or maybe he squeals. Do people tease him because he has a mouse ear. Why couldn't they grow the mouse on a more respected animal. Why a mouse. Couldn't he grow it on his own back.
And should I have used question marks with all of my thoughts are were they just statements.
Like the ear on the mouse.
And when they removed the ear, what happened to the mouse. He suddenly couldn't hear very well. He was use to having super hearing and never had to worry about a cat sneaking up on him. But now he had to rely on his little ears. And where did they get the extra mouse skin to do a skin graft on his back.
And then there is the guy who got the mouse ear. When he feels his ear does he jump. Or maybe he squeals. Do people tease him because he has a mouse ear. Why couldn't they grow the mouse on a more respected animal. Why a mouse. Couldn't he grow it on his own back.
And should I have used question marks with all of my thoughts are were they just statements.
Monday, March 25, 2013
I'm Impatient
I am impatient. I don't like to rely on others (or wait on others). I was reminded of this character flaw this morning. The plan was to go meet a friend at Dilli Haat at 11AM. Steve would drive me an another friend to the Metro at 10:30AM on his way to the airport. But as we got closer to 10:30 he said that he would probably go later and I should just take the shared auto to the Metro station. So I called my friend to say that we should go. But she wasn't ready to go. She had to wait for her husband to get home. So I called the friend we were going to meet and told her we would be late. No problem. I sat and played Sudoku.
As I played Sudoku I pondered my impatience. I don't like relying on others. When I have a schedule to keep, even if it is not important, I like to be on time. I would prefer to go by myself. Like even just getting a ride to the Metro station is a lesson in patience for me. I have to wait for someone to drive me and they usually take longer then I feel it would take me. I end up having to wait. I don't like waiting.
But really, what does it matter to be late. Most things that I worry about being late to I am still just barely late. And the ulcer in my stomach is bigger (I don't really have one). But I get all tied up inside and feel grouchy, which I don't like. I am working on relaxing. I tell myself I can't change the situation so I might as well relax. I think I am getting better. Like today I sat on my beanbag chair and just played Sudoku. No problem. Less stress but still some. Maybe I am growing up.
As I played Sudoku I pondered my impatience. I don't like relying on others. When I have a schedule to keep, even if it is not important, I like to be on time. I would prefer to go by myself. Like even just getting a ride to the Metro station is a lesson in patience for me. I have to wait for someone to drive me and they usually take longer then I feel it would take me. I end up having to wait. I don't like waiting.
But really, what does it matter to be late. Most things that I worry about being late to I am still just barely late. And the ulcer in my stomach is bigger (I don't really have one). But I get all tied up inside and feel grouchy, which I don't like. I am working on relaxing. I tell myself I can't change the situation so I might as well relax. I think I am getting better. Like today I sat on my beanbag chair and just played Sudoku. No problem. Less stress but still some. Maybe I am growing up.
Team Player
I am not a team player. At least that is what one of my job performance reviewers said. I guess it is true. I can be a team player at times, but really I work better alone. Is it a negative quality? I felt like the reviewer thought it was. But don't we need people who can work well alone? I am a great team of one player!
Today I was thinking again about not working well as a team. Our office just got painted and today we had to clean it. What a mess. So several of us started cleaning. But I soon realized that I don't do well with a group of people trying to clean, each their own way. I cleaned a table off and 10 minutes later one of the other team people cleaned it. And now, 5 hours later, it is dirty again. Because after two of us washed the table there was more work going on and things were piled on the table. So again it became dusty.
If I was working alone on this particular task I think I could finish in record time. Now it isn't that the team approach is bad, it is just that for me it is chaotic. The team did a nice job of making the office clean, but they had to do it without me. I get frustrated. Because my team approach is like playing solitaire. It only takes one. And if too many are playing solitaire then it gets frustrating.
Today I was thinking again about not working well as a team. Our office just got painted and today we had to clean it. What a mess. So several of us started cleaning. But I soon realized that I don't do well with a group of people trying to clean, each their own way. I cleaned a table off and 10 minutes later one of the other team people cleaned it. And now, 5 hours later, it is dirty again. Because after two of us washed the table there was more work going on and things were piled on the table. So again it became dusty.
If I was working alone on this particular task I think I could finish in record time. Now it isn't that the team approach is bad, it is just that for me it is chaotic. The team did a nice job of making the office clean, but they had to do it without me. I get frustrated. Because my team approach is like playing solitaire. It only takes one. And if too many are playing solitaire then it gets frustrating.
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Driving in Delhi
I hate it! Every time I come home from having been out in traffic I say, "I never want to go out again!!!!!" This week I have been out three times. Each time is just as bad as the one before it. And each time I have told myself to stop going out. Just stay at home with my safe pillows and chai always ready to be made. No stress. Well actually the only stress at home is trying to get Micah to do his homework. But I will take that any day if I don't have to go out on the streets.
People don't drive according to rules. I'm a rule follower. I like people to drive in their lanes. Especially my husband. I like people to go on the correct side of the street. I like there to be at least two inches between cars (more really). I like cars to turn left from the left lane and right from the right lane. I don't like facing buses head on. I don't like all the honking.
Delhi has all the things about traffic that I don't like. I feel my stress level rising. I try to think soothing thoughts. I lay down in the back. I close my eyes. I tell myself to go to my happy place. Anything to try to distract me from the reality around me. Today I thought maybe I should practice yoga in the car to try to relax. But all the sharp stops and bumps would probably not work for yoga in the car.
So if you don't see me at church, school functions, or any activity outside my house, you know why. I had a nervous breakdown.
People don't drive according to rules. I'm a rule follower. I like people to drive in their lanes. Especially my husband. I like people to go on the correct side of the street. I like there to be at least two inches between cars (more really). I like cars to turn left from the left lane and right from the right lane. I don't like facing buses head on. I don't like all the honking.
Delhi has all the things about traffic that I don't like. I feel my stress level rising. I try to think soothing thoughts. I lay down in the back. I close my eyes. I tell myself to go to my happy place. Anything to try to distract me from the reality around me. Today I thought maybe I should practice yoga in the car to try to relax. But all the sharp stops and bumps would probably not work for yoga in the car.
So if you don't see me at church, school functions, or any activity outside my house, you know why. I had a nervous breakdown.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Pregnant
No, not me.
When people are pregnant there are lots of dos and don'ts. And when you go to another country, their dos and don'ts are different then your do's and don'ts. It makes you think about yours and wonder if there is any logic to them.
For instance, in America pregnant women are warned not to sit in hot tubs. I guess the heat isn't good for the baby. Or maybe there is some other reason. But in Japan women sit in hot water all the time. They don't seem to boil their babies. So which is it? Should pregnant women sit in hot water or not?
Here in India I have heard several weird (to me) beliefs. One is that women should eat a lot of butter or ghee the last month of their pregnancy. It somehow makes the baby come out easily. One lady told me that when the first pains start you should drink chai with ghee in it. And drink it hot. She has never heard of a lady needing a c-section with this method.
In America many women crave pickles. Here in India they crave tamarind. Recently I heard people say that pregnant women should not eat papaya. Then I heard they shouldn't have lemons. Some people won't eat sushi because it has raw fish. Many Asians eat raw fish during pregnancy without problems. And last, I heard that tamarind is bad for pregnant women.
In America we tell pregnant women they should exercise. Many women jog or run throughout their pregnancy. Here women are told to lay around and do nothing, especially no jumping.
I'm not a doctor and haven't read a bunch of books on safe pregnancy, but I can tell you what I did. I drank a Dr. Pepper almost daily when I was pregnant. I played racquetball in the beginning and exercised through the whole pregnancy. I ate whatever I wanted. I didn't have an opportunity to sit in a hottub but I took showers and baths. I did not drink tea with ghee in it nor eat lots of butter. However, I did end up with a c-section so I wish I would have tried the butter. I tried jumping to get Micah go drop. I drank a chocolate milkshake to try to start contractions. And we survived.
When people are pregnant there are lots of dos and don'ts. And when you go to another country, their dos and don'ts are different then your do's and don'ts. It makes you think about yours and wonder if there is any logic to them.
For instance, in America pregnant women are warned not to sit in hot tubs. I guess the heat isn't good for the baby. Or maybe there is some other reason. But in Japan women sit in hot water all the time. They don't seem to boil their babies. So which is it? Should pregnant women sit in hot water or not?
Here in India I have heard several weird (to me) beliefs. One is that women should eat a lot of butter or ghee the last month of their pregnancy. It somehow makes the baby come out easily. One lady told me that when the first pains start you should drink chai with ghee in it. And drink it hot. She has never heard of a lady needing a c-section with this method.
In America many women crave pickles. Here in India they crave tamarind. Recently I heard people say that pregnant women should not eat papaya. Then I heard they shouldn't have lemons. Some people won't eat sushi because it has raw fish. Many Asians eat raw fish during pregnancy without problems. And last, I heard that tamarind is bad for pregnant women.
In America we tell pregnant women they should exercise. Many women jog or run throughout their pregnancy. Here women are told to lay around and do nothing, especially no jumping.
I'm not a doctor and haven't read a bunch of books on safe pregnancy, but I can tell you what I did. I drank a Dr. Pepper almost daily when I was pregnant. I played racquetball in the beginning and exercised through the whole pregnancy. I ate whatever I wanted. I didn't have an opportunity to sit in a hottub but I took showers and baths. I did not drink tea with ghee in it nor eat lots of butter. However, I did end up with a c-section so I wish I would have tried the butter. I tried jumping to get Micah go drop. I drank a chocolate milkshake to try to start contractions. And we survived.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Cover Up
I am not a pastor. Nor am I a man. So I don't know if a pastor would struggle with this, but I will say it anyway. I think women need to dress better, meaning cover up more, for church.
I imagine that a pastor looking out over his flock may at times notice a woman. Maybe she is wearing a low cut blouse and that catches his attention. I don't want my pastor to struggle with this. I want to protect him. At least at church, where we are being taught God's word, we should be respectful in the way we dress.
So women, listen up, and cover up!
I imagine that a pastor looking out over his flock may at times notice a woman. Maybe she is wearing a low cut blouse and that catches his attention. I don't want my pastor to struggle with this. I want to protect him. At least at church, where we are being taught God's word, we should be respectful in the way we dress.
So women, listen up, and cover up!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Dropping Like Flies
Sometimes it seems there is a period of death. I had a day like that on Monday. We got the unexpected news that a friend had been found dead. He was bipolar and had struggled for many years with his illness. Recently his wife miscarried their first baby and then they were filing for divorce. He also had stopped taking his medicine and had lost his job. He ended his life on Valentines Day.
Mental illness is such a horrible illness. At times our friend was doing so well. Life was great and he was hopeful. But then as it is with bipolar, things turned. How many times he went through that cycle.
Then after we found this out about our friend, I read our emails and read another story of death. A lady I met recently had just finalized an adoption of a girl they had been parenting for 6 years. Her husband was away in America looking for work as she was here waiting for the adoption to finalize. He decided to come on Valentines Day and surprise her. He got sick on the air plane and continued to throw up uncontrollably when he arrived. Then he got a bloody nose that wouldn't stop. He was hospitalized and died the next day. Something about diabetes. He was just 32 years old. He leaves a wife and three young kids.
Then a young lady I know decided to have an abortion. I prayed that this would not happen, but it did. I feel so sorry for her and the baby that she has lost.
God gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
Mental illness is such a horrible illness. At times our friend was doing so well. Life was great and he was hopeful. But then as it is with bipolar, things turned. How many times he went through that cycle.
Then after we found this out about our friend, I read our emails and read another story of death. A lady I met recently had just finalized an adoption of a girl they had been parenting for 6 years. Her husband was away in America looking for work as she was here waiting for the adoption to finalize. He decided to come on Valentines Day and surprise her. He got sick on the air plane and continued to throw up uncontrollably when he arrived. Then he got a bloody nose that wouldn't stop. He was hospitalized and died the next day. Something about diabetes. He was just 32 years old. He leaves a wife and three young kids.
Then a young lady I know decided to have an abortion. I prayed that this would not happen, but it did. I feel so sorry for her and the baby that she has lost.
God gives and takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.
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