Light at the End of the Tunnel

At first it seems like the tunnel is all that is, or ever will be. 

But if you look closely, there is more. There is a reality in the distance.

I just wonder if heaven is a little like that - a beautiful reality you see when you focus outside yourself and the physical reality around you. 

Are You Homeless?

The other day I mentioned to my 5th graders that I don't live in my house. It must have had something to do with our lesson, or so I hope. One girl piped up, "Ms. Vance, are you homeless?" I ignored the "Ms." for the millionth time, since some can't remember that I'm married or are used to calling all women "Ms." Instead, I quickly replied, "No, I live in an apartment. Don't worry." Worry I did, though, about her quick assumption. I wonder if she had been homeless, which I suspect, and if so for how long. I know that most of my students don't come from the most advantageous backgrounds. Their parents either work hard, long hours on second or third shift, or they are on welfare. Most live in a single parent household and others have had a parent in jail. It makes me grateful of the life that I had growing up and painfully aware of the limitations I have as their teacher.

Calm in the Storm

Then he got into the boat and his disciples followed him. Suddenly a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, "Lord, save us! We're going to drown!"
He replied, "You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.
The men were amazed and asked, "What sort of man is this?  Even the winds and the waves obey him!

Matthew 8:23-37 NIV

One, Jesus is calm in storms. Two, Jesus controls storms. And three, Jesus makes storms calm but that is not the point. Not the point? God isn't our personal get-out-of-sticky-situations card?

"You of little faith, why are you so afraid?" Jesus says. Does it not seem that he wants them to trust him in the storm? When the boat is threatening to sink and it seems that God is not paying attention, that's when we need to have faith. Even then, God is with us. How often do I freak out and ask God to calm the storms in my life that threaten to sink me instead of trusting him in the midst of it all? How often do I praise God for what he takes away and forget to praise him for what he's helped me walk through, that which makes me a stronger woman when I come out on the other side?

 

 

Resolutions Month 2

I know you just can't wait for March's update!

• No news news on the job search. Still sending the papers in and waiting for transcripts. The latest hitch in the road was trying to get money orders from Spain that are valid in the US. Note to self: don't try again. I ended up convincing friends and family to do it for me. It would be so much easier to pay for paperwork by bank transfer or debit card!
• Wedding album came in! It's HUGE...I'll bring it home over the summer if I don't break my back first. Photos for others...to be continued.
• My friend Meggan lent me a book called, "Praying in Color," which has an interesting way to pray for others and stay concentrated by doodling. My journal has been resurrected and is now full of colorful prayers, meditations on verses, and self-reflections. I can see God using the prayer time in my life to help me love others more and to slowly change other attitudes as well. 
• With the girls I disciple at church, I've pledged to read at least one verse a week. I'm reading Matthew, a few verses a day, and then write and journal and draw about one about every day. It's enriching.
• The blog...AHHHH!!! By updating you, I am faithful in telling you how terribly I'm doing.
• Calling family: Stayed the same...need to talk more!
• Friends: Jenny and Naila...I should be writing you soon. Or perhaps you could write me to remind me to write to you?
• Exercise: pitiful. I have tried to do more yoga in the living room. Isma walked in on me one day and gave me an extremely strange look. We went to play airsoft and run around in the countryside shooting at each other. Although it's not a work-out routine, I had sore muscles for half a week.

Resolutions Month 1

Well, a month has past since I made my first New Year's Resolutions in many years, and for my own accountability, here's my report.

• The new job in Chicago is going slowly. Slowly, as in I haven't finished the job applications. See, I got my new 5-year professional teaching license in Indiana last week, (Yay!) but I am waiting on getting the license transfer to Illinois' system to finish applications. My thought process is that no school system is going to jump up in down in excitement to hire me if I can't legally teach for them yet.
• The photos of the wedding to everyone...so sorry! I think this one may take a bit more time. The job comes first. On a happier note, I think we'll have the wedding album in less than a month, and we'll be able to show it this summer.
• Praying more fervently has it's ebbs and flows, though I've been enjoying praying for the youth at church and family on my daily commute. That is, when I don't become a space cadet for the entire time...maybe I need more work on that.
• Creating a devotional routine: not happened yet. 
• Write one blog entry a week?? Hmmm...not so hot either. But this one is definitely not the biggest priority in my life.
• Call my family more often: ummmm...uncomfortable silence...This one has definitely stayed the same. Neither less nor more. Will work on this. Colin, call me!!
• Call or write friends more: has improved slightly. VERY slightly. 
• And last but not least, the exercise routine. How do you think this is going?? Pitifully! It is probably the last thing on my mind. However, I have half convinced myself that it isn't necessary by counting up the physical activity I do every day. At eight-thirty in the morning I leave home and walk 10-15 minutes to the subway, ride for 10 minutes, walk 5 more minutes, ride for 1 minute, and then walk for 5 more. During the day I walk up three flights of steps and back down several times. And at 5:00 in the evening I repeat the morning routine. That is AT LEAST 40 minutes of exercise every day. Though yoga would be so nice... 

I'll report again in March if my fifth resolution stays firm!

Every decision requires a death

About a week ago, Isma received a letter from Moody Bible Institute that he's been accepted for the upcoming school year! We're really excited about the upcoming adventure, though the excitement is tempered with some sadness. A friend of ours, Ben, recently said that for every decision or action we make or do, something else has to die. We are beginning to realize how true the statement is. For Isma to study, his job must die and all of the implications of having such a good job must die as well. For us to move to Chicago and make new friends, some closeness here must die.


But not everything dies. Somethings, rather, change and shift as distance grows for some and closes for others. Some relationships will strengthen with proximity, some will wane as the miles grow between, some will go into hibernation, and others will stay the same. But even change is a death to something, a death to the status quo, to things always being identical to the present. And of that, I am striving to not be afraid.


When June comes, I'll try to accept the odd mixture of sadness, joy, and nervousness and know that the ones we love are doing the same. I pray that everyone in our life will accept the death of yesterday and celebrate the birth of tomorrow.

Countries Rise

I'm sure you all have read, listened to, or seen the news about the uproar in the MidEast. Egypt peacefully protested and succeeded in removing their dictator of so many years. Libya´s people are painfully revolting. Morocco, Spain's neighbor to the south, is beginning to awake as well. I've been so near and yet so far from it all.

A young woman close to my friends has been living in Egypt for better half of the last year, engaged to be married to an Egyptian. When the protests and revolt began, her grandmother and friends called and called, worrying about her safety, what would happen. Thank God there was no need for evacuation of Spanish citizens, so she is still safe there and will be married this spring surrounded by family from Spain and friends.

Can you imagine living in such history-making circumstances? Living in such nerve-wracking and yet exciting times? What would you do: stay at home nursing the pager given to you by the embassy, sneak a peek out the window of the protests, catch the next plane home, join the protests? Or if it happened in your own state? It's beyond my imagination. So close and yet so far away.

El Sol

.
El Sol

A la tierra ha susurrado
el sol se acaricia los
seres que bien arropados
en los pliegues de la tierra
con tranquilidad están durmiendo.
Las plantas bostezan y con
desgana andan hacia la voz.
El brillante sol sonríe a
los flores que con cuidado
miran el aire y florecen.

.

Peppermint

It's 9 PM and I'm sipping piping hot herbal mint tea, snuggled up in warm flannel pajamas and an overgrown knit sweater, eating Junior Mints with peppermint crunches. I don't think that I've ever fully appreciated the wonder of peppermint before. It tastes like home and Christmas: delicious. A wonderful way to unwind after my longest work day of the week. Out the door at 7:40, back in at 7:30. It's been a long day, yet a pleasant day. Hugs, kisses, "Happy New Years" and everything else that greets people returning to work after Christmas break. One of the girls hugged me tight when I came in the door (20 minutes late...thank-you broken down trains) and told me I was her favorite teacher. In English. Though quite possibly, she told the rest of the teachers that as well. I don't care. Today I feel loved and we'll leave it at that.

Muncie Visit

The weekend before Labor Day, I went down to Ball State to visit friends, Justine and Beth, who are still studying there. I stayed with Beth in her university apartment. As two nerdy and art loving girls, we enjoyed playing Banana Grams (like Scrabble, but more fun) and went to a pottery gallery to paint pottery. Hers was a pretty spoon rest, but mine will have to remain a secret till Christmas. The funniest part of the visit was the ice cream social at the university apartments. The resident assistant had brought the ice cream out 20 minute before the first participant showed up, without refrigeration. In the sun. With cones and one scooper. Imagine, scooping soupy melted ice cream into a small cone with a huge ice cream scooper, trying to keep it from dripping on clothes. I think that was more challenging than the hillbilly golf game set up to entertain us. And no, I didn't pass the challenge; the last bite landed on my pants as the cone split in two. It was kind of strange being back on campus and viewing the subculture from a outsider's point of view. A world where everyone is, for the most part, either teaching or between the ages of 17 and 26. I remember college being sort of like a limbo land, where you're not quite a kid but not quite an adult, not having a full time job. It's good, so far, being on the other side.

El fin de semana antes del Día del trabajador, fui a la universidad de Ball State para visitar a unas amigas que están estudiando allí. Me quedé con Beth en su apartamento, jugando a juegos de crucigramas, conociendo a la gente de allí. Él sábado fuimos a una galería de cerámicas para pintar. Ella hizo un plato apoya cucharas y yo pinté un plato para mis padres. Es un secreto hasta las Navidades! La parte más gracioso del fin de semana era la fiesta con helados para dar los bienvenidos a los estudiantes que vivían allí en los apartamentos. El organizador había puesto los helados en la mesa 20 minutos antes de la llegada de la primera persona. Afuera en el sol. Sin refrigeración de ningún tipo. Habría estado bien, normal, si hubieramos tenido cucharas y platos hondos de papel. Pero, solamente tuvimos cucuruchos pequeños y una cuchara grande. Imaginate, la gente intentando trasladar el helado de la caja a su cucurucho chiquitito sin dejar caer gotas de helado derretido en la ropa, el brazo, todo la mano. No aprobé el exámen. Cuando fui a terminar el mío, el último mordisco se me cayó a mis pantalones. Está bien, al menos no había notas. Estaba un poco extraño estar en la ciudad universitaria otra vez, observando la subcultura desde el punto de vista de una persona de afuera. Un mundo donde toda la gente, por lo general, tiene entre 17 y 26 años y si no, están dando clases. Me acuerdo que estar en la universidad era para mi como estar en el limbo, no estaba una niña o jóven viviendo en la casa con mis padres pero a la vez no estaba completamente un adulto. Está bien, hasta el momento, haber pasado por allí y estar al otro lado.

How are you?

One of Colin's friends wrote on my wall to find out what I'm up to by asking, "How's Spain?" I would suppose that this question means the following: "How are you (friend, who happens to be in Spain)?" "What is Spain like?" "How do you like Spain?" or "What in the world are you doing in Spain?" However, I always imagine it a little differently:

"How is Spain?"
"Well, last time we talked, it was a little depressed...but excited that Carnival is coming up! A little short on money too."
"Oh, yes? And the kids?"
"Well, the ones that are here are fine. You know, she's been adopting a lot of kids from Morocco and Latin America. And how are you?"
...

So, next time someone asks me, "How is Spain?" do not be surprised to hear, "Fine. I'm good too."

....
This week has been a hard one here for the church in Madrid. In the last three days, three people have died: a friend's father, a pastor's son, and a friend's uncle. Prayer from one part of the church family for another would be much appreciated, as many Christians (churches and families are usually rather connected) around Madrid are hurting right now. Especially for the first person mentioned, as she and her mom are not only suffering with the loss of the third member of their family, but he was also taken from them in minutes with no previous warning. Thanks in advance for your prayers.

Sunday (for you, Mom)

Saturday evening I wrote out, word for word, what I wanted to say Sunday morning. I was so nervous that without doing so, I would have been standing in front of the congregation, unable to find words in either English or Spanish. I was nervous, but not as much as I feared. I repeated my thoughts during the evening with the youth group, though didn't read my paper the second time. I said some dumb things (I mentioned that I had been "thinking some...thoughts"), but I'm trying to laugh at myself. Mom, you're right, the reflection that went into it was valuable for me. I went through my journal, reading what I had written about my studies, and then made those thoughts more cohesive.

Here's an English version of what I shared (more or less):

Lately, I have been reading in Romans about the spirit that God has given us. Romans 8:15 says: "For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father." Before we received the Spirit that binds us to God, our spirit was the exact opposite of the freedom we are offered. Our old spirit was one of fear, sin, and slavery. The good thing is that we died to this spirit, separating from it. Rescuing us from the old spirit, God gave us a new spirit full of life.

This passage spoke to me because lately I have been thinking a lot about the future, in some decisions that affect my future, at least for the next year. The future is something that frightens me at times in the following sense: It's not secure; we can't control it even though we try; and without being able to see what is ahead, it is difficult to trust that we are on the right path. But, thinking like this comes from our old spirit, not the Spirit from God. We were adopted, and now we are on a journey with our Father driving. Even though we don't have the whole itinerary or map of the trip, our Father does. He knows where we are walking, knows where we need to go, and so I believe that he won't permit his children to wander off the path if they are seeking Him.
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You know, it kind of reminds me of this one time I was with Dad walking through a nature preserve to glimpse some endangered quail (or were they chickens, Dad?) on the way home from Chicago. For as far as I could see, tall waving grasses stretched toward the sky, the expanse only broken by a few copses of pine trees. Walking into the grass was like wading into the sea. On either side, the strands parted to let Dad and I through. Soon, I could see nothing but the grass that had swallowed us whole and the clear blue sky directly above. When we came to a clearing covered with fallen cottonwood trees, chopped down by the caretakers, I climbed up onto the tallest stump. Looking out over where we been, I could see what before had been hidden while I was buried in the prairie: the car, the road, and the tops of the grass. It reminded me of how, on our own, we walk through life with a limited perspective, but once in awhile, God provides a tree to raise us out of the short term to see what lies ahead and to give us perspective on the past. Just as I thought back then, I think that right now I'm in the prairie, swishing through the snake grass, far from any tree. Wouldn't it be nice to have trees or even stumps to climb every few meters? Or, perhaps not...I'm not sure.

Ups and Downs

I found a post-it note on my computer from a few weeks ago, and there was a link for this article on it. Apparently, I had meant to share it on the next post I wrote (back at the beginning of January). It's about home, and where you consider home. It's intriguing to think about. When I was at Ball State, I remember saying, "I need to go home now," meaning the dorm, my room. Jenny, my roommate corrected me and said, "This isn't home," meaning that home for her was back in Cincinnati, in the house where she grew up. I usually use the word home to refer to wherever I am living, but is it really home? I wonder when our childhood home or our hometown ceases to be home. When does "our" place become home? Does it ever?

This week has been a slight struggle discipline wise at the school. I'm used to having difficult moments...that's normal. One kid (ADD?) has been extra defiant and squirrely since he stopped taking his medication and another ran from the classroom Wednesday and hid in the men's restroom. But, this is out of the norm for my class, and I know that every class has it's ups and downs. I've had mostly ups. Speaking of ups, where I help with the after school program, we had a really good day Wednesday. It can be depressing, especially for Ester, who is with the kids every day, to work so hard and love on the kids just to end up feel like you are making little difference. That's not to say that there aren't good moments every time I'm there. Just sometimes getting after the kids takes all the fun out of it. Because of this, I am extremely thankful for the mood Wednesday, that the two of us could be a little more relaxed.

Tomorrow is el Día de la Paz (Peace Day I suppose), and so there is no school tomorrow. I thought it was Teacher Appreciation Day, but that's later on in the semester. The music teacher made a poster filled with the hand prints of every student from the school, 1st to 6th grade. Today I got to watch some presentations with the 4th, 5th, and 6th graders and then hear them all sing "No dudaría", a song against violence. I love the smiles from the girls when I sang along (I can explain it away because they too can sing in English) and did the motions that they had learned in class. I would have loved to see the presentations in the afternoon, to see my kids reciting poems and singing songs for their classmates, but I couldn't stay around that long. The rest of my day was last minute printing for my class this evening, going to the bank to figure out taxes and residency and my account (re a letter I received), cooking, and relaxing a bit. Tomorrow I'll go to ECA (American school) to visit and see everyone that I haven't seen in months.

I'll leave you a picture from my window last Sunday. I like clouds!
r

Nameless blessings

Every morning, before I run to catch the bus to the train station, I greet and say goodbye to the cleaning lady on my way out. Today, to my surprise, she asked me about Angelita, or more specifically, "the lady with the knees," I believe she said. I don't know how she knows I live with Angelita, or how she knows that Tuesday Angelita is having knee replacement surgery. Probably she talks to Angelita as well. Irregardless of the information source, her thoughtfulness made me examine our daily encounters more closely. Everyday I say hello, perhaps "How are you," and then go on my way. Everyday-like part of my routine, I expect to see her polishing the windows or the floor. Even more, as I hurriedly skip down the three flights of stairs, I look forward to hearing her friendly greeting and seeing her smiling face. It is the first ray of sunshine I see every morning. As I realized how much her seemingly inconsequential actions affect my life, I began to think about the other little things that make my day good, other people that bless my life. How do I bless other people's lives? Whom do I make smile, that I don't even realize that I touch? It's interesting to think about, but I realize that it's not just a cerebral thought. It's tangible, the blessing that the cleaning lady is in my life. I think I'll make her a Christmas gift to thank her. It's funny...I don't even know her name.

Pamplona Visit

I just got back from the Veldts in Pamplona. I was going to be there Thursday through Sunday, but I called the coordinator at the school to see if I could extend me stay one day, which she approved. I changed my ticket and came back on Monday instead of Sunday, spending one extra day with the Veldts and Luccas. I'll make up the hours throughout this week and next.

There was a mix-up and the Veldts thought I was coming Friday, while I thought I was coming Thursday (and came Thursday), but it got straightened out after a few hours of phone calls/waiting at the train station wondering why no one was picking me up. I was really really excited to see them, then I felt abandoned and upset, then when I thought that maybe there was a mix-up, a little panicked (which I had already felt) and searched for their phone number, started on my way to their house alone, and they picked me up where the bus to their town used to stop. I guess in a year and half the bus routes changed, which isn't entirely surprising. At the end, I felt bad because the mix-up had been my fault, and they felt bad since I was waiting so long at the train station alone and panicky. The same day I arrived, ETA set off a car bomb at the private university in Pamplona. Luke told me about it when I arrived. Seventeen people were injured, but luckily no one was killed. It's really sad that they have to hurt people to make their statement. Don't worry, I'm fine. Luckily, the rest of the visit did not follow the same trend.

Friday I met some of their friends and new Christians, Pia and Chino, who were married this past summer. In the afternoon Luccas came over and we all visited until the kids began arriving for the first of 4 Halloween parties that were held throughout the weekend. Jodi and Nate (Colin's age) teach English classes to connect to the community, while Luke, Mr. Veldt, leads a church in their house and Bible Study. The Halloween parties were a huge success. The kids decorated cookies, received and/or carved a pumpkin (depending on age and size of group), played pin the mouth on the jack-o-lantern, and other games. The older ones bobbed for apples, were blind-folded and tried to guess what food they were touching, and ate donuts off a string. In the middle of each party, Luke and Nate put on a little puppet show about the meaning of the Jack-o-Lantern to them. It was a wonderful way to share the gospel. Here is the story (without the silliness and creative script that Nate and Luke created to entertain us more). They hope that through the classes, someone's heart will be opened to God.

What the Pumpkin Means to Me
We are like the pumpkin, filled with yuckiness. Just like the pumpkin can't clean itself out, neither can we rid ourselves of sin. Someone else, God, has to do it for us. The pumpkin, after being carved and cleaned, has a new identity, a new face, even a new name. It changes from a pumpkin to a jack-o-lantern. Then, at the end, we put a candle inside the pumpkin and let it shine out into the night. The candle is like the spirit of God, that fills us and shines into the world.

Besides the parties, I enjoyed hanging out like old times, albeit missing some important people. We played poker and Settlers of Catan, frisbee, watched a silly movie, and enjoyed Jodi's cooking. Sunday afternoon the church met in their home (about 15 people). The are some single guys, Luccas, the Veldts, Pia and Chino, and an Argentinian family.

Jodi and Luccas took me to the train station today. Jodi couldn't come in, so Luccas walked with me into the train station and saw me off. It was sad to say good-bye, but at least I know that I'm going to definitely see them again, unlike the last time I left Spain.

Pamplona Visit