Trusting Who?

It's been longer than usual since my last post.  I've kind of been waiting for something worth writing about to happen. I went to Peru for three days with a few of my favorite students/really good friends.  We returned to a veterinary conference we'd visited a couple years ago. This time instead of being mesmerized with the simultaneous translation from the North American speakers into Spanish, I was greatly relieved that not much has changed in these past three years where I've been doing little vet work, reassuring me that jumping back into practice, if I ever decide to do so, will require some review, but not be completely impossible.     
                                                                          
We had a great time, we learned some things about animals, and shared some experiences about God, but nothing that merited a story.  Which was disappointing, because I've had this post brewing in my head for a few days, and I was hoping something easier would come along and take its place. I don't know about you, but I sometimes wish parenting didn't relate so well to my relationship with God. Couldn't it relate more to eating cupcakes or playing with puppies, does it have to instead bring me face to face with my own shortcomings so often??  (Plus, let's be honest, I just caught up with the rest of the world and started reading the Hunger Games, so you can pretty much count me out for the next three days, since I'm only half way through the trilogy.)                         

So before the "Hunger Games" started me endlessly comparing Jon to Peeta, I had thoughts like these running through my head, let's see if I can quell the images of the star-crossed lovers long enough to make sense of my own ideas:

I consider all sin to be a lack of trusting God. You may not agree, and I may not be right, but the way I see it is if we step out of God’s will for our lives (we’d all agree that’s “sin” right?) then it's just a matter of not trusting Him.  Everytime we do something selfish, or evil, or grumpy, or fail to do the right things (also sin) then we’re unconsciously saying, “God, I don’t really believe you love me enough,” or “God, you don’t really know what you’re doing.”

When I boil it down so simply it seems like it’d be easy for my conscious who does trust God’s unfathomable love for me, to tell my subconscious “Of course, we’re gonna trust that God knew what He was doing when He asked us not to do that." But more times than not it seems that if I can't see the immediate consequences the action would bring, I convince myself they don't exist.  And if I don't know what reward directly awaits me after doing something good, it's hard to get motivated. That's where parenthood reminded me of how much of a child I am with God. As a mother, I really don't like to live bouncing from one reward to the next, nor the alternative; threatening one punishment after another, so I sometimes find myself begging Angie to try to be good just for goodness' sake.  Well, maybe I don't directly quote the Christmas carol, but I am sometimes floored by her lack of incentive to do anything sweet or helpful, or just not flat out mean and selfish, without a prize or a penalty hanging over her head.

Ruby flew home a couple weeks ago to make it through Miami before the summer heat makes it impossible for her to get in. When I saw some of her canine friends searching behind me for her in distress on my next run, I realized Ruby never got to say goodbye to anyone, she didn't even know she was leaving, for all I know she's still unaware that she'll probably never see Bolivia again. As sad as that makes me, I kind of wonder if that would have been the way to go with Angie as well.  Instead, she has started to get nervous about the move and act out in her anxiety more than a month before anything happens.

Last Saturday, she started out by forcing me to cancel our plans to go play basketball and volleyball because it was going to involve English speakers and she's pretty much swearing off voluntary English now, an interesting transitional move into life in the U.S. A little bit later in the afternoon I wanted to go pick up the package with the MP3 players Mom had sent down to us after ours had been stolen when the car was broken into, but I didn't want to tell Angie about the prize, because I wanted her to trust me.  But she just couldn't do it.  Being dragged out of her already-in-progress-lazy-day, which she got used to when we were both sick and I let us use one Saturday as a sick-day that she mistook as the new normal, she could not do something sweetly if she didn't know how it would benefit her.  So she broke down in the car, hence I didn't show her what was in the box for a long time. 

I feel like I'm taking advantage of Ange's lack of English comprehension to write about her, but I think the parallel that connects us all to this little fighter clinging to every bit of control she can get her hands on while she feels her world is quickly spinning out of her control in the bigger scheme of things, excuses her behavior as merely childish and puts the greater blame on us; the adults who should by now know better.  How can I watch Angie refuse to trust that I have her best interests at heart, when clearly my interests are very often confused and flawed, and not feel convicted for not trusting our Heavenly Father's perfect flawless love and plan.

We could sure use your prayers over these next few months they're shaping up to be some of our most tumultuous, and we've weathered some storms...

Shawn Returns Again and Again

We made someone cry the other day at our VetRed lunch-meeting, it will probably live on as one of my favorite moments of our ministry.  I should explain.  

Dr. Shawn Kari is a veterinarian with an ambulatory ultrasound practice in Southern California.  He's been visiting us for the past couple weeks, updating the vet school on the imaging material he taught them the last time he came down three years ago, and the time before that.  

Shawn recognizes the importance of relationships even more than the value of his expensive equipment or topnotch skills, so he keeps coming back and keeps pouring into the people here who adore him.  Across the really steep language barrier he knows their stories, the names of their spouses and kids, even their favorite sports team.

Shawn training on the fancy new machine he brought down to share.

He affects the people he works with here so much because he cares about them personally and has something to offer that can drastically change their lives professionally as well.  As Dr. Moira told us, through tear-filled eyes, at our Bible study gathering, she knew absolutely nothing about ultrasound when Shawn came down the first time. Now she scans between 10 and 15 small animals every day in the teaching hospital at the university, she’s the vet that the city of two million people send their pets to for ultrasonic diagnositcs.  In May she'll speak at the veterinary conference here in Santa Cruz as the canine ultrasound expert! 

"See one, do one, teach one!"  Moira now teaches sonography to hundreds of students a year at the veterinary university.

Our VetRed office makes a comfy place for some training on cardiac physiology.  

I don’t think Shawn, or VetRed, could be any happier with how his teaching is multiplying.  He came down and taught, and now his students are teaching so many others. Sharing the talents God has given us to demonstrate Christ’s love and spread the free gift of grace is exactly what we’re here for.  

Just so you don't think his visit was all work and no play, here's a pic from after the students shoved his birthday cake in his face at his going away party yesterday. We couldn't let him leave Bolivia a third time without experiencing this classic local birthday tradition.

I love my job!

Perfect Timing to Demonstrate His Death and Resurrection

Baptism is such a cool dramatization of Jesus' death and resurrection; leaving the old behind under the water and rising again into your new life in Christ in front of your family of Believers. When else do we do something so symbolic, with such meaningful imagery?

To celebrate His death and resurrection this Easter, we headed out of town about five hours into the mountains for our first retreat as a church. More than thirty of us played together, worshipped, competed on an obstacle course, roasted marshmallows, built community, studied the Bible, ministered to each other, and together practiced confession, forgiveness, and grace. It was an awesome weekend for so many reasons, but I'd have to say the highlight for me was when we ended the obstacle course swimming in the river and spontaneously offered to baptize anyone who was ready to make that statement of faith. At La Viña, we only baptize once or twice a year, but what better time than Easter to express your understanding of HIs gift by encapsulating it so succinctly and beautifully.

Baptisms are always exciting, watching new brothers and sisters in Christ make that public display of their decision to follow Jesus, but this one was a bit more special than most for me as Angie was the first one jumping up and down eager to be dunked. And I had the extreme pleasure of helping dunk her.

After Angie, four other adolescents from our youth ministry followed suit. And as a sweet surprise for us all, a young mom who's been working at the baby home as a sort of internship to prepare to have her toddler back in her life, jumped in as well. She's just recently become more open to us and to God, and I for one had no idea she was ready to commit her life to Christ. Her story is one of true transformation and hope, and everything that baptism symbolizes, it was perfect.

I asked Ange tonight, if there was anything she'd like to share about her baptism. She said it was the first time she'd ever been baptized and that she liked it very much. I sure hope she doesn't say something similar on her wedding day!

It Just Got Real

I read in an adoption book last year that parenting teenagers keeps us honest. They don't let you get away with inconsistencies, they call you on your bluffs. Turns out it applies to 9 year olds too, but for all intents and purposes she's a precocious little teen in so many ways already.

I knew when I decided to adopt that my life would change. People kept asking me if I knew that, of course I knew that! But somehow, in their words they couldn't convey the extent of what they meant by change, and I had no idea, it's not their fault, they tried. I think about one person in particular, coming from left field, knocking me off balance, telling me I wasn't ready for this, I didn't know what I was getting into, adopting Angie was a bad idea. And to her I'd say, now after 15 months, "you were right."

But so was I.

I had no idea what I was getting into. I wasn't ready. It's rocked my world. But it wasn't a bad idea. God's ideas never are. Just because an idea makes a mess, looks ugly for awhile, it doesn't lose its inherent goodness. Just because we get ourselves into something expecting one outcome, for instance daily gratitude and fun, and we get something completely different, let's call it real life, doesn't mean we shouldn't have done it, but it might mean the reasons we had in mind for doing it were not the reasons God was thinking of.

Nonetheless, among my motives, truly was the idea of becoming less selfish. A single person can look holier than holy to the world, sacrificial, spiritual, just generally good, because there's no one looking close enough to see all their flaws. I think I knew this. What I didn't fully understand was that there's also no one asking them to prove their sacrificialness, their spirituality. I could give what didn't hurt, I could give of my excess time, my excess clothes, my excess money, and if it was more than the average middle class person was giving it looked altruistic. But as all of you parents and spouses know, and I was the last to find out, the singles that look so altruistic have no idea what selflessness is, and maybe won't until there's someone else making them look their selfishness in the mirror every single day. Oh man, it's hideous. It's hard to say thank you to Angie and Jon for making me stare at this revolting part of my being, but it wouldn't be very kind of them to let me walk around with garbage all over my face without telling me, so they're doing the right thing. Keep up the good work guys, keep being agents of God's refining change in my life, sorry I'm not always gonna thank you, but sometimes I will.

This is not at all what I wanted to write about. I started out thinking I was going to write about my car being broken into.

My beauty (used in the most sarcastic of tones) of a ginormous car was broken into for the second time on Sunday during church, sitting right outside the building in a busy market, on a main street. For the second time, the face of the cheapest stereo I could find was stolen, this time along with our ~5 year-old iPod Shuffle, our speakers, and the control to the winch. It's life. It's not blog-worthy. But last night when I was telling a friend about it, I revealed that when we found a little blood on the shattered window and on the seats the bad guy had crawled across to get to the stereo I felt a little sense of justice, not compassion. I was glad the jerk had suffered a little, while destroying our stuff. I'd mentioned this thought to a couple people fairly unabashedly, but last night I hesitated because Angie was sitting there, Angie the queen of compassion herself. But you know what, instead of feeling bad for the guy and thus condemning me to be the spiritually immature grown-up in comparison, she kinda smiled as well. Instead of saying "Mommy, you shouldn't want revenge," she felt the same satisfaction that I had that the new owner of our precious little music had to pay for it a bit.

And in her commiseration with me instead of the bloody dude with all our gear, I saw my inconsistency. We started off joking about how Jesus wouldn't have wanted me to beat him up, as I'd threatened I would have done if I'd caught him in the act. And we began to talk about what Christ would really have done if he'd left church to find someone bleeding in his car tearing apart his dashboard. And then it got real. "If someone slaps you on one cheek turn to them the other also. If someone takes your coat, do not withhold your shirt from them." We semi-kidded that instead of pepper-spraying the thief, he would have handed him the keys to the ignition. And we said that's why Jesus didn't have any stuff. But was it that He didn't have any stuff so He wouldn't have to be giving it away all the time, or did He not have any stuff because He was always giving it away all the time. Either way it's pretty clear His example is to not hold too tightly to our things.

So, the next time, if I surprise the guy breaking into my car, I'm not going to be able to call it manslaughter, because I've premeditated it, and I think I know what Jesus might do. My inconsistency's been brought to light. I'll have to at least bandage his wounds, if not give him the whole car. Who knew parenting would be so expensive?! Who knew following Christ would be so costly?! And I, for one, had no idea the two were so intertwined.

Our House Divided, GO CARDS!

Have you ever told God there's something you'll never do, or even just said it out loud? I recognize that more often than not those are the things God ends up asking us to do, so I try to use the word "never" very sparingly. But one of my always-ironic-in-retrospect statements was that I'd never marry a UK fan. I probably at some point vowed never to even date one. I was successful for a long time, but of course, now God's having the last laugh. Who would have thought 10 or 15 years ago that there might be some qualities about a husband even more important than his sports allegiance??! For all those people I looked down on 'cause you settled and yolked yourself unequally with a rival, I'm sorry, I'm getting what was coming to me; I'm moving into a house divided.

Fortunately, for our future-family this red and blue house does not yet exist, as today would be a very possible end to its existence if it did. My sister was talking about some bridesmaids' details the other day and she ended with, "I sure hope there still is a wedding after Saturday's game." At 6pm tonight, my Louisville Cardinals enter into what's been called the biggest sporting event in KY history, pitting "the best urban-school fan base in America vs. the best fan base in America, period.” -Rivalry

I think it's safe to say I've read more articles about UofL and UK basketball this week than in my other 30-odd years of life. I wouldn't expect you to go off the deep end quite like I have, but so many of the articles have sent my adrenaline rushing from their sheer emotion, insightfulness, or unique connection between Bluegrass basketball and real life, that I thought it only fair to at least share the highlights (and link you to the articles in case you want to get swept up with the rest of us), and thus add to the madness that I've been overcome by.

"I won't presume to know what life is like in, say, Northern Ireland. I can tell you that to this day, like Catholics and Protestants, I could name which of my classmates was a Louisville or Kentucky fan." -Why You Should Feel Sorry For UK Fans

So true.

From the day I was born I've cheered for the Cards without hesitation, until Rick Pitino took over. Many of UK fans have never forgiven him for "betraying" UK and switching to UL, I'm one of the few UofL fans who feels the same. My loyalty runs too deep to accept the enemy as our leader, his image is forever ingrained in my head in blue. Plus, he's just really been an arrogant jerk, with a recent personal history that's done nothing to endear me to him. So, when I read an article about how UK's present coach Calipari is very possibly a pretty quality guy, I started to lose my edge on wanting this victory so badly. I told Jon, "Calipari seems a decent fellow, I hate to kill him. Pitino's never seemed a decent fellow, so I won't hate to die.

"...that suggests Calipari is simply unlike the vast majority of men who spend their adult lives screaming at 19-year-olds for failing to box out. What makes him different, I suspect, is that he cares about "young people" more than he cares about The Game Of Basketball." -KY Death March

But next I read an article that changed everything. After ten+ years with Pitino at the helm, I forgave him for being such a turncoat, and an all around not nice guy. And I kinda started to like him.

"No, the 59-year-old Rick Pitino who walks through that door at this Final Four, the one who leads these Louisville Harry Potters into their fight with the Kentucky Voldemorts this Saturday, this Pitino is changed. He's grayer and softer and happier. He laughs. He indulges. He forgives.

"Whenever he's in a bad mood now," son Richard says, "the players whisper, 'Go get the grandkids.' When they're around, he just can't be mad."

Pitino said something vulnerable the other night, at the very end. He said, "My biggest disappointment isn't that I didn't put somebody on the passer in that [1992 Duke] game. It's that I didn't live humbly all those years. I try to now." -Pitino New Perspective?

Wow. I can get behind that.

This fascinating article talks about how UK's team is so good this year that a win from them will change, and really injure, college basketball from here on out, "Kentucky totally deserves to win. But I sure hope they don't." -KY Death March

A high school friend of mine posted on Facebook that trying to explain the immensity of UofL/UK rivalry to a non-Kentuckian is like trying to explain the infield at Derby, they think they get it, but they just don't. Here's a little taste of it, for those of you who just can't quite grasp the biggest basketball rivalry in the world.

“The roots of the rivalry have evolved. It is no longer about race and no longer about Louisville demanding a multi-level respect that Kentucky would not give – athletically, academically and socially. Those issues largely have been resolved.

But this still is a deeply ingrained culture clash as much as a basketball clash. It is city vs. country. It is an island republic metropolitan area vs. a more rural demographic that stretches from the Mississippi River in the west to the Appalachian mountains in the east. It is the best urban-school fan base in America vs. the best fan base in America, period.”

“In contrast, Crum took Louisville’s progressive nature to the next level, recruiting far more blacks than whites. And he let his teams play with soul. Huge afros were perfectly fine with the coach. Dunks and alley-oops became the program trademark. The 1980 national championship team claims to have popularized the high-five.” -Rivalry

And although this is definitely not how I feel, this writer had some fascinating connections to the beauty of UK basketball this season and restoring a bit of idealism to a world that's generally let us down, here's an intro, "Let's be honest with each other — once you're past 25, life gets a little grim. Nothing unmanageable, mind you, just a little too real compared to what some of us were expecting based on a casual youth. And when I say "us," I mean middle-class kids with fun childhoods who are now more or less fending for ourselves. I don't mean poor kids, because they knew what was up pretty early. And I don't mean rich kids, because they'll be fine. I'm talking the front-lawn-playing, garden-hose-spraying, Sour Patch-kids-every-Friday-after-school children of the sub-suburban frontier. There seem to be a lot of us. IM me if you want to grab a beer." -Please Don't Lose KY

If UK wins tonight no one will be surprised, if UofL pulls off the huge upset, it's said only semi-jokingly that the police will be surveillancing the bridges for Big Blue Nation jumpers. "And that's why I can't help but feel sorry for Kentucky fans. This season, they only know that pinch of relief, the joylessness of entitlement." - Why You Should Feel Sorry For UK Fans

This hilarious article, if UofL fans don't take themselves too seriously, has 10 ways UofL can maybe beat UK tonight. Here's my favorite: "8. Stop Being So Short. Seriously, it's not a good plan. You notice how Kentucky's really tall? That's the way you want to go in basketball." -How UofL Can Maybe Beat UK

Among the Homemade Ice Cream and Pie Kitchen UofL/UK cakes, the screaming with fellow-fans, the camaraderie, the electricity of this week, and the many other reasons I'm longing to be in my hometown today, there is only one reason I'm slightly relieved I don't live there right now, or am joining the family in Lou Orleans tonight:

“All the losers on Sunday have to go to church and pray to be stricken deaf and blind because they have to go work Monday and hear it from the other side,” he said. “Next Monday will be the most vile day ever for one side or the other. The calling in sick to work and school will be massive. You can’t face the other side playing for the national championship while you’re sucking your thumb.” -Terry Meiners

C-A-R-D-S!!!!!!

A Very Acceptable Alternative

If I can't get everyone to just forget about my birthday, thus not have one and not get older, then the events of last Saturday were a great plan B. After celebrating my dear friend Heather's cumpleaños, Friday, in vintage 80's "style", if there was such a thing, it was hard for Saturday to have anything more to offer. (I really wish we had a close-up to show the blue eye shadow, blush, and bracelets.)

Saturday morning, we had some people coming to look at the house with kind of last minute notice, so we all hustled to make the place presentable. Good motivation to clean is basically as good as paying someone to come clean the place for you. I was thrilled to start my b-day off with a spotless home, and as soon as the visitors left, we sat down to empanadas, fruit salad, and pancakes with candles made by my three lovely roommates.

A couple hours later, nevermind that I was still full from breakfast, several of my vet school ladies treated me to lunch at the Sushi Tren. Unfortunately, the picture lacks the tiny train going around on its tracks carrying little plates of various sushi, just as adorable and unsanitary as it sounds, but for all you doubters I never had any digestive regrets, and it was so much fun!

While passing the time between meals, my Louisville Cards just happened to play in the Elite 8, and at half time I Skyped into the family party to lift their spirits, as we were trailing to Florida. My pep talk pulled us through, or maybe it was the authentic 1986 NCAA Champs shirt I rocked for the 80's party Friday, but my Cardinal Birds are heading to the Final Four, redeeming a previous birthday memory where the party was ruined by their Elite 8 loss during the Dejuan Wheat era, and semi-mimicking the historic day when I decided to enter the world to watch UofL win it all!Dear dear Heidi and Bill Janecke also refused to grant me my wish to let my "special" day go unnoticed, but instead invited friends over for all my favorite treats (black olives and cake) and great company (many of the people I'm going to miss most on my next birthday.) And maybe the highlight of the day for me was when we sat around the table singing "I have decided to follow Jesus" in not one or two, but four languages. Heidi and I stuck with English, Silda and Rosenda rocked it in Spanish, Karina, Maria, and Gustavo broke out their Quechua, and Misty and Bill eeked by in their fledgling Guarani. It was awesome! I think Jesus loved it.

The nightcap to all that good eating was Skyping with Jon for the third time that day, possibly a record, still not nearly enough...

Thanks to everyone who made turning another year older much more bearable! I'm pretty stoked about the plans God has for us this year, even if it means I can't stay 29 forever.

March Madness Praise Report

No, this answer to prayer doesn't have to do with mine, or Jon's team, advancing in the NCAA tournament, however, if the two meet in the Final Four in a couple weeks, we may be requesting some prayer for our relationship. No, this is a little more personal basketball story.

I was never a particularly loud ballet mother (do they exist?), but even recovering from laryngitis, it turns out I'm one of those very loud basketball moms.

A couple weeks ago, I asked Angie if she would like to go watch some guys from our church play in one of her high school's basketball games. She said, "Do I get to play?" After running through the reasons why not, such as she's not on the team, she hasn't tried out, she's not in high school etc. she decided there was no point in going to the game if it was just to watch. A bit dejected, I dropped it.

But last Friday, one of my good friends was coaching the high school's track meet in the city's big stadium. We were on the way to the movies with Angie's friend for her birthday with a little extra time so I surprised the girls by stopping at the track meet, it was both of their first time in the "huge" stadium. They loved it! And so did I, to the point of thinking I might like to coach something myself. That same day Angie got picked from the third grade girls to play in a friendly game of basketball against the 3-5th graders at another school in town, based on her performance in gym class basketball.

In the midst of all this sporting activity I'd been praying for a way Angie and I could really enjoy each other. In light of the basketball invitation I suggested we go practice Saturday and Sunday at the court down the street with the ball we gave her for Christmas. Just before we made it out to the park on Saturday she'd been driving me particularly crazy and I was begging God for some help. Minutes later, He gave us the relief we'd been looking for.

She's really good at ballet. But I'm not. I'm not good at fixing her hair right, or buying her new clothes every time she looses them or rips them, or helping her with her sous sus. But I can help her with her bank shot, impress the socks off her by dribbling between my legs, and randomly swish a three when she says there's no way! I can be her hero for a minute, and we can relate as friends.

Today, was the big game against the Santa Cruz Cooperative School. It lasted about 20 minutes and we didn't quite pull out the W, but Angie and I now share a love for the sport!

Angie's the one in the pink sleeves and the red scrunchie below; praying before the game, tipping off, and shooting.

Thursday, we're going to watch one of those high school games I mentioned a couple weeks ago. :)

As today is Father's Day here in Bolivia, I thought this was also appropriately timed by God, since I'm pretty sure both her grandfather, and her future father can get into basketball a little more than ballet. Get ready, we'll take you two-on-two here in a couple months guys!