O, Christmas Tree

"Trees that remain green in the winter have been symbolic of life in the midst of death, and of rebirth, in many cultures. The Christian folk-religious custom of erecting and adorning evergreen trees in the middle of winter was borrowed directly from existing practice, regardless of whether the custom had pagan roots. Some of the existing meaning has been carried over into Christian culture, together with these practices.

"Trees appear with symbolic meaning throughout the Bible: and the Christmas tree alludes to and builds upon this biblical symbolism. From the symbolic tree of knowledge of good and evil, concerning which the Fall of man and the curse of death came, to the tree of life from access to which mankind has been cut off, to the Oak of Mamre which "witnessed" the covenant made with Abraham and the renewal of that covenant with Joshua, to promises concerning the root of Jesse, the Branch, the Messiah, who was hung on a tree to bear the curse, and has been raised up again as a tree of life for the healing of the nations: the Christian story can be told from beginning to end in the symbolic terms of trees.

"To focus on one stream of the development of this late Christian symbol, the Christmas tree symbolizes, in part, the promised "Branch", the Messiah, who must be the "Root of Jesse", the descendant prefigured by Jesse's royal son, David. The tree symbolizes the human geneaology of Jesus and especially his tie to David's royal line through Solomon, which had been perplexingly cut off by God from ever inheriting the throne, after Jeconiah. This connection to the cut-off line is symbolized by the cut-down tree, and is indirectly a symbol of the Son of God. According to Christian tradition, although a descendant of Nathan on his mother's side, Jesus is an heir of Solomon on his supposed father's side. In other words, if Joseph were in fact Jesus's father, then Jesus cannot be the Messiah, because Joseph is descended from Jeconiah, the cut-off line.

"But through his mother, the genealogy of Jesus satisfies the promise of the Messiah in terms of human descent, and this is symbolized by the erect tree. It is an evergreen, because of his eternal origin as God, according to Christian belief. And yet, the tree is also customarily cut down before it is decorated, symbolizing that Jesus is also an heir of the line of Solomon by adoption, through Joseph. So, Christians think that God's word was miraculously fulfilled through the virgin birth, because in that way, the Branch came from the cut-off line of Jesse by adoption, and also by the living line of Jesse. By the birth of Jesus, the promise concerning Jesse's line has been fulfilled, Christians believe, and in this restoration Adam and Eve's line, all mankind, redeemed from futility and death, is symbolized. And that is why the Christmas tree is cut down, but restored erect, evergreen and clothed in light, in symbolic commemoration of the virgin birth."*

*adapted from wikipedia.com

I miss my girls

I have my mom here, and she's great. I've got two sisters, and they're great. I've also got a Dad, two awesome brothers, and the best boyfriend imaginable. But my sisters are young and my mom is often busy. While I love my family and my boyfriend, I've got an empty spot. I miss talking about girl things. I miss laughing with girls and being at ease with girls and doing things with girls.

I miss talking about chick movies. I miss watching them. I want to see Pride and Prejudice with girls. Afterwards I'd like to talk about it the way only girls can talk about it. None of this breaking apart of the acting and cinematography and lamenting the scenes of lengthy dialogue, but rather digesting the relationships and the story in the way girls do together when not one male is present. Slowly and over a long time, with food to accompany and lots of laughter and intermittent sighs at how cute guys with accents are.

I miss sleepovers and talking L-A-T-E into the night about the nearest and dearest things in my heart and in their hearts. I miss being teased about my boyfriend and teasing other girls too, and then laughing and groaning because boys are so bizarre. The most bizarre things on earth that like to discuss things like politics and video games and movies and computer parts and fighting techniques and music. Instead, I want the conversation to drift over into things like clothes and boys and God and fun and shopping and giggles and hot tea...and heartaches. I miss having conversations that compare nothing at all, conversations that are not veiled debates, and conversations that are completely unimportant yet vital to every girls' heart. I miss my friends.

I love you. See you soon.
Can we have some girl time?

disclaimer to the boys: Don't worry. I love you. I love talking to you. I even love debating with you. But you know how we do...

Kong your Burger

Anonymous Youngest Child: Well, I think that King Kong is just a pathetic movie. I mean, so a gorilla falls in love with a blonde chick. Like that's supposed to be cool.

Post, Most, Ghost, Host...

We're studying poetry right now. Thought I'd give you a sample of Youngest Child's latest creation. Note: Youngest Child is usually very poetic and writes the most amazing haiku of any 8 year old I know. However, his couplets are a little wacko.

Shakespeare is unclear
because he drank root beer.


I saw a buccaneer,
But he was killed by a cavalier.
But he was killed by a musketeer!
Ahhh! No! He cried.
But he was killed by a mouseketeer,
and he died.

I wrote that one when I was trying to explain ending syllable rhyming. So maybe the wacko poetry is not without cause...

nothing worthwhile

I am uninspired tonight.

I am tired, I am sick, I am on medication for being sick that makes me tired.

I think I had a fever because I rejoiced that the mall I entered was air-conditioned in such a manner as I have never rejoiced prior.

They were playing Christmas music in the mall. Have you ever gone into a mall, rejoiced in air-conditioning, and heard the tinkling strains of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" and not been demented? I have. At least, I think I'm not demented.

This post gets filed under the "I feel like I should make a post because I haven't in awhile but really don't feel like writing, can you tell?" category. Yet I make no apologies. None.

*sigh* just shoot me and tell me to go to bed before I hurt myself. Um, wait...

The Ultimate Jedi meet the Anonymous Sibs

Setting: Late afternoon, the living room. Anonymous Youngest Child and Anonymous Little Sister are in front of the computer comparing the two Jedi of Lucas' latest attempt at a movie.

Anonymous Little Sister: Obi-Wan is better because he basically cuts off Anakins legs, one arm, basically his face, and he set him like, on fire.

Anonymous Youngest Child: Yeah, but Anakin is the one who like, killed Obi-Wan in the first place. (editors note: Youngest Child has only seen Episodes 1&2. But if you go by the release dates, Anakin did kill Obi Wan before Obi Wan maimed him, I guess.)

Anonymous Little Sister: Yeah but that's only because he was like mostly robot. I mean, it wasn't even really him he was so robot.

Anonymous Youngest Child: But he can do the choking thing and kill everyone.

Anonymous Little Sister: Well, I wouldn't like to be choked to death like that.

Peace for Despair

She sits at the window;
she hurts from the day.
she screams out to no one,
she cries to the same.
she falls from the sunshine,
she breaks her shattered heart.
she gasps at the splinters and
she tries to gather them up.
she drops the sharp pieces
she spills them on the floor
she yells out at everyone
she hates her broken heart.
she despairs...oh, she despairs.

It's not the greatest in the world, but it's a start. I think it might eventually be a song, believe it or not. The song isn't about me, either. I don't know who it's about.

---

Lately I've been going to bed and feeling useless. Then I wake up and feel useless. Through every waking moment I feel a hole in my middle, right above my bellybutton and about the size of my fist. It's a clean hole right through me, and at night I become aware that there is cold air blowing through me. I have a missing piece.

Am I valuable? Am I worth the oxygen I breathe? Am I doing my part? For so long, my life has been about bettering myself. Sure, I like to please people. But more so, I have an incredible drive to please myself. If I'm not up to my personal expectations, I quit. They call it perfectionism, apparently. I call it torture. Who regularly guilt-trips themselves? I do. There is nothing good about it. (Well, the 4.0 is a plus...) So every night I go to sleep feelinginadequatee. I'm almost 20 and I often feel that I have little to show for it. Half the time I go to sleep wondering if I've failed myself.

Then there is God. For the past year I've been trying to do better with God and instead my relationship with him has slipped into atrophy. My prayers are hollow, my bible reading is stagnant, and worshipping has become incredibly difficult. I've started hating having a quiet time because I can't meet any expectations (my own) with my regularity. Church is in Thai, for the most part. I can count the number of sermons I've understood in the last six months on one hand. (Not that I'm complaining. A sermon is the worst possible way of communicating information into my head. I'm a discuss and process person--but I haven't had that either.)

Don't worry. I'm not barfing onto my blog. It gets better. ; )

So I cried. I cried and cried and cried. I didn't feel better. But my heart was opened. I used to be a very introspective person and I stopped because it hurt too much to think about myself. I'd forgotten how to do that, and instead I was only aware that something was wrong. And the crying opened my heart. My heart hurt, I realized. That is howcallousedd I was. My soul hurt and I didn't even know it.

What do you do when God isn't giving you peace and you can't figure out how to "give your burdens to Jesus?" I've struggled with that for years. So many Christians say it, and I never could figure out how. When I asked how, they would say things like, "just lay it down at his feet" or "ask him to take it away." Sorry, folks. No dice. It wasn't working. I didn't get it.

My dad is amazing. There is no denying that. I have received better advice from him than anyone else in the world. I think because he's been either a pastor, worship leader, or missionary in the past 25 years and he's been my daddy for close to 20.

I explained to my mom everything I just explained here, and she said some good things. I need to not beat myself up so much for one. Check. I'll try. But she had no answer for the "burden" thing and how far away from Jesus I feel. That's when my Daddy yelled from the computer,

"You just have to be grateful, Annie."

That's it. I can do that. I can be thankful for my Jesus. I can be thankful for everything I can do and for everyone I can be with. I can be thankful for happy things, for sad things, for big things, for little things.

I talked to Jesus last night as I went to sleep and told him five things that I am very grateful for.

I didn't feel empty.

I was made to praise Jesus. Then the heavyness slips away and the holes are filled with love.

The Anonymous Family and the Video Store

Anonymous Mother: Oh, we need to take The Polar Express back!

Anonymous Youngest Child: (turns whine up to full blast) Awwww, maaaaan, I only watched it once!

Anonymous Mother: Youngest Child! Don't complain about that. Be happy you got to watch it!

Anonymous Middle Sister: (with 'duh' written all over her voice) Yeah Youngest Child, some kids don't even have movies. Like in deepest darkest Africa.

Pie, Potter, People...

Ahhh. I hate pie crusts. I am the Queen of Piecrusts, you see. I can roll and shape a perfect crust every time. It is where the oven comes in that I get angry. Stupid oven. I put it in all pretty and when it comes out...it looks sloppy. Still a pie crust, still tasty, and not even bad-looking. But it is no longer perfect. Thus, I loathe the oven. It destroys my perfect pie crusts. Die.

I saw Harry today and I liked it. Then I came home and we've rented Herbie. For some reason I thought that was funny.

In other news, Ben might have to miss Thanksgiving because there are no substitutes that night to teach his english class, and Thai people don't celebrate that holiday. Apparently the pilgrims never landed in Asia. Weird, huh? (yeah, sorry...that was a little sarcasm...I'm on the crabby side today. I have a toothache.)

Hmm...there is a lot of american food in the house...um...I think that's it for now. Yuppers.

happy happy joy joy

I love today!

I have finally figured the Secret to a Happy Anna: give her about 9 hrs of sleep at night. 10 is too much and 8 is not enough. I was always told that 8 was enough for a happy, healthy grown-up style person (and when in school, 6) but I think I seriously need 9. So I've been testing my theory this week--and I am 95% sure that my general attitude of cheer comes from enough sleep. Yaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

Now if I can keep that up when in school...
This week was pretty good, as weeks go. I spent all day yesterday at the health club with Jaimie and Sam. That sounds so glamourous. Haha. We did school, table tennis, school, tried badminton, then ran, school, then swam for an hour. The kids were hyper, but by the end, I was exhausted. I'm out of shape...ugh. I hate that feeling. After dancing six times a week for two years, being out of shape feels gross. Not that I'm fat (actually, I've lost weight and look older because my cheeks are thin. heehee) but I have no stamina and I've lost my splits. ughughugh. What will I do after having a kid? I have no clue...

The kids are watching Robin Hood starring Errol Flynn. If you don't know who that is, I'm sorry. Hint though--Bob Anderson, swordfight choreographer extraordinare (Star Wars, Princess Bride, Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Carribean, Legend of Zorro, even the fencing duel in the Parent Trap...bascially any good swordfight in modernish cinema) was his stunt double in a few movies. There is some good swordfighting in this movie. I am so taking up fencing.

Okay, I'm supposed to meet Ben at Siam in under an hour, and I'm in my pajamas. *giggle*

Love today!

Oh God...I live in Asia

Somedays I walk out of my house and I can't help but think, "Oh my God. I live in Asia."*

Yes, that really is an old lady in flip-flops buying veggies off the back of a pick-up, then shuffling down the puddly street, back bent from carrying the kilos of food so that she cannot see the bright pink flowers dangling just over her bowed head.

Yes, that taxi really is pink. Hot pink. Barbie-style pink. Too bad it's also busy because now I have to wait a whole thirty seconds for the next one, which is red and white.

Yes, that really is squid frying on that sidewalk grill, roasting on sticks next to octopus. And yes, I can buy it for 5 baht. (10¢)**

Yes, there is only one other non-thai on the skytrain car and he is scaring me. His sunglasses don't fit and his white polo is stained and he gets off after one stop.

Yes, they are playing christmas music at the Asok skytrain station; What Child is This? actually. It sounds weird, but I have no clue why.

Yes, that is a beggar sitting next to the stairs with an empty cup o'noodles container*** stretched out for any satang that might come his way. And yes, he really is missing a hand. And the lower half of his leg.

Yes, that fruit hawker is sleeping under the station, leaning on a concrete pole, head drooping to her chest with her straw hat threatening to slip off into the traffic.

Yes, those tangled black lines suspended in a thick web about 5 m off the ground actually have a current running through them, supplying power and TV to the nearby houses and rang sewen.****

Yes, that motorcycle nearly nailed me. So did that cab. So did that car. So did that cab. So did that cop. And yes, there is a 'cross at your own risk' unwritten policy in this city.

Yes, that department store is decked out in pink and white shiny tinsel Christmas decorations and it's lit up too, but somehow, it's not cheery.

Yes, that is McDonald's...my destination. Because no matter how much the world has globalized and westernized, living in Asia is not like living in America. Sometimes you just have to have a few fries.

The Footnotes...
*yes, I said oh my God. But I don't think that is taking God's name for granted. I seriously meant it. "Oh God, I live in Asia."

**check out the calculator on Google.com. Just go to the main site, type in the conversion, and it'll convert anything from money to liquid, and do math problems too. It is the best when living in a metric country. (try 40 baht to USD)

***This is the container of choice for beggars here. I will never look at them the same again.

****wow, fourth. This is what the Thai's call 7-11. They're everywhere-imagine twice as many Starbucks in Naperville and that would be almost how many sevens. There is one every five minutes, walking speed, anywhere you go.

Bar Hopping: Outreach Style

I went to go-go bar hopping tonight.

Yup. Me. I'm a female 19-year-old white American college student, and I frequent Bangkok's red-light districts. It's okay though. I go with my parents.Today though, I went with a new American couple. They've been here three weeks, but the husband, Ron, was in Chiang Mai (northern city) for four years a long time ago, so his Thai is great. And then there was Men-ee, a middle-aged Thai women who is adorable. No joke. Even the bar girls kept telling her she was cute. We hit Nana Plaza, which is like an outdoor mall that sells women. It's rather gross...and we just made rounds on the bottom floor. It was a little crowded tonight.

We found a few women that are regular at the english class I teach, and a few not so regular ones. I harped on 'em for not showing up (in thai) and they laughed. Been busy, they say. They always say how busy they are. We stopped at another bar and Men-ee prayed for a woman that dad and I have prayed with before. She's an older bartender, and she has something wrong with her stomach. A miracle would be cool. : )

Next we walked down to Soi 1 Plaza, which is a quieter building with about ten small bars and no go-go dancing. We have a lot of friends at one of these bars, and the Mamasan of another bar likes us a lot. Today she told Ben that if he ever needed to go to the hospital, she'd take him. He was so perplexed by the randomness of that he asked her to repeat it three or four times, in case his Thai was messed up. But that was what she meant, so I guess now he knows where to go...

I talked to a quiet girl, and I'll call her Noi here. She's been in Bangkok for almost 3 weeks, and working at the bar from day one. She has two boys who live with her mom about 10 hours away. She misses them like crazy, calls them every day, hates her job, hates Bangkok.Bingo. She's got "help me get out of here" written all over her.

I turned to Men-ee. "Do you know Noi yet?" I asked her. She replied that she did not, and I introduced them. Men-ee turned around and talked to her for twenty minutes. I think she shared the gospel, or part of it...it was hard to follow with the dance music blaring at us from all sides. Anyway, Noi wants to come visit the Well (our exit program) sometime in the next two weeks. I'm really praying that I will be able to directly help one bar girl leave before I come home in two months, and Noi might be the one. (I think I've indirectly helped about seven, maybe eight. How is that for cool?) Please pray for her! There are a few others at the same bar that I've been friends with for months. Pray for that whole bar, please!

Okay, I'm sleepy. Speaking in Thai for three hours (or trying to speak...) will do that to you. No, I won't come back fluent. But I definitely have a firm grasp. That's right, people. Anna can speak Thai!

Genesis 1:3-5

...and God said,
"Let there be light,"
and there was light.
God saw that
the light was good,
and he separated the light from the darkness.
God called the light "day" and the darkness he called "night." And there was evening, and there was morning
the first day

He's pretty cool like that, isn't He?

Anonymous Younger Sister's Science Lessons

Setting: I lounge on my parents' bed, waiting for the Anonymous Kidlets to come upstairs and start school. The schoolroom is my parents' room, you see. The sun pours through the curtains, the air con is on, and Anonymous Younger Sister comes bouncing through the door.

Anonymous Older Sister: Goodmorning, boing boing! (this seemed appropriate, as Anonymous Younger Sister had lept onto the bed with a grin brighter than the sunshine.)

Anonymous Younget Sister: Hello, maggot! (gleeful laughter)

Anonymous Older Sister: Excuse me??? (the sunshine stopped being so bright. The birds stopped singing and the happy twinkly music was no more. Um, okay, that was over the top...)

Anonymous Younger Sister: (giggles) Maggot! I learned it in science yesterday. It's fly larvae! A baby fly! (gleeful laughter)

Anonymous Youngest Child enters the room.

Anonyomous Younger Sister: Hello maggot! (They both go into spasmatic laughing attacks.)

Anonymous Older Sister falls backward onto the pillows, wondering why our society chooses to educate small children, anyway.

The Anonymous Family Strikes Again

Setting: Friday afternoon, living room. Anonymous Father is on computer, reading news and lamenting over the political situation in the U.S. Anonymous Middle Sister doing homework at a table across the room.

Anonyomous Father: laments loudly over the state of the political situation in the U.S. and then wonders if Kerry would have done a better job.

Anonymous Middle Sister: (drily) I don't think so. Kerry was born on a little planet not called earth, dad.

Minute Maid Field????

The Sox won. I can't decide if this a good thing or not. My Chicago pride says, YEAH! But my undying love for the Cubbies is still undying. I don't want to be one of those people that just likes whatever team is doing better. I always was a northside girl...

Well, I'm happy. Comment and tell me what you think. But don't be mean. If you do I might delete your comment. That is not fun or happy, and in Anna's Happy Cyberspace Land, everything must be Fun or Happy when Anna deems Funness and Happiness are in order. When a Chicago team is in the World Series and WINNING, Funness and Happiness are most definitely in order.

Besides. Minute Maid Field? What's up with that jazz?

Interview with a Princess

She came to my free english class last week. I taught her the colors of the rainbow. Her favorite color is red. She's wearing a red shirt. She is in her late twenties. Her smile is shy and tentative, but infectious once it blooms. This is some of what I remember from my conversation with her:

Do you like working in a bar?

No. I do not like.

How long have you worked at [bar]?

Twenty days.

Did you come to Bangkok twenty days ago?

Yes, I came Bangkok same time.

Do you have any children?

Yes I have. One boy.

How old is he?

Five years. His name "ball." His daddy likes football.

Did he come to Bangkok with you?

No, he stay in village.

With your mother?

Yes, my mother and my father.

Do you miss him?

Yes.

Do you like Bangkok?

No. Bangkok is not fun.

Work is not fun?

No. I do not like.

Why do you work in the bar if you do not like it?

For money for son and parents to watch him.

Could you get a different job?

No. Other jobs don't give enough money. Reception, office not enough.

So you must work in the bar?

I think yes.

And you do not like working at the bar?

No. I do not like.

Onward...

Hmmm.

Today was pretty uneventful. Mondays usually are; it's the first day of the week and it seems like the most difficult task I have is getting Jaimie and Sam to refocus their brains on being educated. It's amazing what two days off will do to the brain of a little muffin. We went down to the health club today and excercised and that was nice too. In a city with almost no public space, a membership to a health club is almost a necessity if you want your muscles to survive potential atrophy. The kids swam, and if you are in the Jaimie and Sam fan club, you will be delighted to know that they are both becoming excellent swimmers. Jaimie can now do two lengths of the olympic sized pool before she gets bored. Her older sister can do twice that...then she gets really bored too. That's why there is a kid pool, right?

Today though, because of my ear infection, I let Dad swim and I read in the Reading Room, which is like a library. I miss libraries. I miss the quiet collective conciousness of concentration and the rustling of pages. I used to haunt libraries; then there was no time--and now there are none to haunt. But I read American magazines and caught up on what's going on politically in Germany right now. Have you looked lately? It's rather interesting. If you like weird stuff like that, check it out.

I forced myself to have a cheerful heart today, and it mostly worked. Sometimes life is hard, and the only thing you can do is "keep a stiff upper lip." Thank you, by the way.

"Life's not a level or a smooth road; but it's a blessing to scale the hills and trudge over the stones with a good heart, and I think one sometimes does one's best work on the uphill bits, though one may not know it." --Amy Carmichael

I hope so. I know I'm blessing my mom right now, and I know she needs it. Sometimes it's hard to see exactly how big the work we're doing is helping someone else, especially when it's just tucking in a child or doing the supper dishes. But guess what? My mom can read Thai now.

who put engagement juice in the water???

Marc just got married. (already)
Jessie is getting married. (definitely)
Nicole is getting married. (probably)
And some anonymous individual is getting married. (most likely)

What happens when your two best childhood friends decide to try and tie the knot within six months of each other?

You can't help but wonder if you are born under an ill-fated planet. And you start to think a lot. But no one read into that vague statement, please. It really doesn't mean anything exciting. LOVE to my people. You know who you are. (If you don't, then it's if you know me and I love you already. If you aren't sure, count yourself in, because I'm all cool like that. )

[edit: yes, the un-named were Adam and Kami. No, I am not engaged. Not remotely. Talk to me when I get home and then we'll see...]

The Saga Continues...

So I get better at e-mailing people nice, long e-mails and forget about my blog.
Then the internet dies, and the only computer still in this century is the main one...and Dad's main task right now is programming the girl33 website to sell Christmas cards. When you are programming the internet, you need a computer that will go onto the internet. And when you are my Dad, you work on it whenever possible...so until the network is better, I'm going to be a little out of touch. Which, I'm terribly sorry to say, means less e-mail, and more blog. But I'll keep you posted.

The Christmas cards are FANTASTIC, by the way. I don't know if the site is up as I write this, but it probably will be soon. Check it out.

The past month, October, has been very difficult. There have been some very happy moments--there are two or three new women in the Well's program, and at a girl's camp we held this week for young teens, all six or seven became Christians. Several were from Uthaithani, which you will remember if you are a faithful blog reader--or if you were in Uthai yourself. Miss you guys!

I've been very, very sick for most of this month, and that has been really hard. Serving anyone is difficult when you feel horrible inside. I've also been feeling very discouraged, though not about anything in particular. Feeling lousy and feeling down do not make for the happiest Anna in Thailand, and I really need prayer in this area. I've felt okay for the past three days, but I'm still not healthy or whole. I've also been dealing with a lot of worries about how things will look when I come back. I'll need a car, and school, and most likely will be quite broke by then. I'm still trying to raise support for my time here, since my earlier fundraising brought in very little--not near enough to even cover my plane ticket. If you feel led to give in any way, please comment and I will get an e-mail to you.

Jaimie and Sam are doing really well with school. We are learning about mammals, fractions, and Bzyantines. They're definitely great kids, and I love being able to hang with them after being gone for a year. I'm going to be sad to come home, which I suppose means come back to Aurora. Home is such a strange idea right now. Here or there...or everywhere?

Well, that's a short little piece of my heart right now. It's not very well-written or well-edited because it's late, but I wanted everyone (all 4 people who read this!) to know what was up. I miss you all.

Please keep praying. I need it more than you know. And please write or comment. I need to know you are backing me up. It encourages me. Thanks.

random blatherings

ugh. Too may headaches!

Still feeling unda' de wedda'...and really, really dizzy. I'm not sure why, but I think maybe I'm allergic to the pollution and it is causing me to be congested somewhere in my head that causes me to be dizzy. Whatever the reason, it is NO fun to be walking around Bangkok in all the swirling confusion and have the world wobble in your eyes. Pray for me if you have a moment...

Ummm...in other news...I walked two miles yesterday to escape traffic. Yep. My cab didn't move for thirty minutes so I got out and walked. Yep. It was raining. Yep. I was dizzy back then too. But I made it. Yepyep. I had fun too. I went to see Ben at BSC, the school he's teaching at, and hung out with some students. It was worth it. It wasn't raining that hard. Yepyepyep.

In still other news...Marquita had a tooth pulled and two fillings done today. Jaimie and I are making a fairy house. Jaimie told me she loved me six times today. Marquita asked me to get her tylenol. I love those two kids. (Oh, yeah, it sounds like Marquita just uses me--that's not true. She just didn't exactly have a cheerful day. I don't blame her! She told me she loved me this morning and gave me a hug too.)

In still more other news...Ben visits me on Saturdays. Happy Anna.

kloveyoubyepeople!

Hope vs. Detroit

1 Peter 3:15
"Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have."

I have a hope the darkness cannot cover, cannot linger, cannot overcome.

I have a hope that the sun will rise, that rain will fall, that children will smile, and that my God will forever be good.

I have a hope in light. A promise, clung to even in the depths; that there is something more, something better

I will stretch out my hands in darkness, straining in the hope that my fingertips will reach something bigger than myself.

I hope. I believe. My God will not fail me.

---

Oh, yeah...
In the kitchen as I do dishes:
Luke (enters room while speaking, gazing at the ceiling): What do you think the penalty would be for setting off an atomic bomb?

Me: (I don't even turn from the sink. No hot water in THA, but a lot of suds) Death. Lots of death.

Luke: (he's really considering this) I mean, would it be treason, or just defacing property?

Me: Felony. Definitely a felony.

Luke: What if I did it somewhere that no one hung out at? Like Detroit?

And that, ladies and gents, is that.

Be warned, he actually does want to take over the world, aided by his trusty sidekick, Bob, who is invisible, lives in a trash can, and still (two years after Luke introduced him) thinks that Nichole is cute. And that's the truth.

my heart is on the ground.

I quit doing heart updates awhile ago. I guess it was the same a lot, and got boring! Oh well.
Things are really rough right now. On a lot of levels. The three people that read this already know most of them...so I'm not going into details. I guess it's stuff I've done (or not done)...stuff others have done (or not done) to me, and stuff others have done (or not done) to others that ends up affecting me. I've been crying a lot. I mean a lot.

No, it's not depression. I'm used to dealing with that, and I know how to get out of it. It's more like discouragement. The world has so many people doing stuff (or not doing stuff) and everyone hurts everyone and everyone hurts themselves. I don't know why I'd be exempt from all that...I'm not.

It just doesn't seem much like the fairy tale I wanted. Where is my castle? I am wandering. Where is my dragon? Oh...far too easily found. Where is my prince? Fighting many, many, many battles. Yes, he fights for me. But his heart is so heavy... Where is my King? He is here. But I still cry...I still feel alone.

how do you fight like a girl?

I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about fighting. Not the irksome quarreling that goes on in daily life, but the bigger, meaner battle that goes on just outside of the everyday we see.

Father Christmas told Susan and Lucy to only use their weapons only "in great need." For, he says, "battles are ugly when women fight."

Certainly that is true in this physical world. There is something very horrible about a woman dying in battle. It is as though war is an arena of strength and yes, brutality, neither of which conjur up many feminine images. There are strong women, both evil and good, and yes, there are brutal women. But I know that I am neither one of these. I am only strong when I am supported, and brutality of any type is unthinkable to me.

And yet..."our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12 NIV)

I am certainly able to fight these battles. I am most definitely able to advance the kingdom of God. I am well equipped.

The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. (2 Corinthians 10:4)

I know this. I know that I have the weapons and the armor to fight, and that I have the ability to succeed. But how do I, as a girl, go about that? You see, I don't want to fight. I like shining lights in dark places...but destroying strongholds? Good night. I have some tea to make. I need five or six nice strong boys to...nope. As tempting as I find that (run away and someone will protect me while I drink a good hot cup of earl grey) I know that that is not the answer.

But what is the answer? Lucy healed with her potion and Susan sounded the alarm. Peter killed the Chief Wolf and Edmund snapped the wand of the witch. So what do I do when I am faced with White Witches and Chief Wolves? Blow a horn? Yes...and no.

I am protected by many wonderful men who love God and serve him, fighting for him daily. God has given them the strength to do so. And when I need it, they fight for me. But I want to fight too. I want to kick some evil butt. But I don't like it. I'm squeamish, I'm prissy, I hate being bloody.

I suppose I have a question and no answer yet. Sigh. I'll keep going.

The Continuing Adventures of Anonymous Family

Setting: The anonymous dinner table, this time eating anonymous chicken steak sandwiches.

Anonymous Youngest Child begins pouring himself the milk. Reader should note that he has already succeeded in pouring the water all over the table before the events illustrated below.

Anonymous Older Brother: (believing that Anonymous Youngest Child might suffer from inadaquate depth perception) Hey, watch it! Let me help you! (Anonymous Youngest Child ignores him) Stop it!

Anonymous Little Sister: Hey, Anonymous Youngest Child, STOP! (Anonymous Youngest Child ignores her)

Anonymous Middle Sister and Anonymous Older Sister: (in stereo) Stop! (Anonymous Youngest Child proceeds to pour the milk)

Anonymous Siblings: Stop! (Anonymous Youngest Child wrinkles his nose and continues to pour. The glass wiggles ominously.)

Anonymous Older Brother: (stops shrieking like female siblings) Okay, look, let me do it. (takes glass and milk and pours it)

Anonymous Middle Sister: (condescendingly) Anonymous Youngest Child, you need to listen when people are talking to you. You already spilled the--

Anonymous Older Brother, Older Sister, and Little Sister: (in a tone of "can it already, chica") Anonymous Middle Sister...

Anonymous Middle Sister: Okay, okay. (Anonymous Youngest Child has developed a milk mustache)

Anonymous Father: You know, Anonymous Mother, I think they don't need us anymore. They can self-parent now.

Anonymous Little Sister: (grins like a jack 'o lantern) Does that mean Anonymous Middle Sister has to do whatever I say?

Anonymous Middle Sister: (ready to leap across the cucumbers and strangle Anonymous Little Sister) Oh, don't you even try that on me! You just...

The Anonymous Parents decide that the children might need a little more parenting after all. Anonymous Older Sister does the dishes.

The Love Life of Anonymous Little Sister

Setting: An anonymous family is eating anonymous stir-fry around an anonymous dinner table. The anonymous conversation drifts toward very anonymous guys.

Anonymous Middle Sister: Well, I think Anonymous Little Sister likes So&So.

Anonymous Little Sister: I do not!

Anonymous Middle Sister: You said he was cute! I saw him and he got his hair cut now.

Anonymous Mother: (realizes what the Anonymous sisters are talking about) Anonymous Little Sister is starting to like boys? When did I miss that one?

Anonymous Little Sister: Well, I only kind of do. Sometimes I look at So&So and I'm all like, "Whoa." (pauses for dramatic effect, eyes wide. Or maybe now is a 'whoa' moment) And then the next time I see him I'm like, "Eeeeewww." (makes a face and sticks tongue out) But then I see him again and I'm all like "Whoa." (pauses and contemplates the ceiling for a moment) Maybe it's because I don't get enough sleep at night. That's probably it.

This re-telling is Anonymous by the demands of Anonymous Little Sister. May she live forever.

The Education of the Anonymous Short Ones

Scene 1:

Anonymous Youngest Child: (reading his science book) "Oh, that's why I have spit in my mouth. I always wondered why I had spit in my mouth."

Anonymous Little Sister: "Saliva, Youngest Child. Saliva."

Week three of the Education of the Anonymous Short People has begun.Though their science books are different, they run along similar tracks, so right now they are both learning about...digestion! Oh yeah, it's that exciting. What else would cause a ten-year-old to spend the entire time she was eating lunch trying to swallow holding onto her tongue (to see if she could because her book said she couldn't) and an eight-year-old to stare at a mirror saying "aaaaaahhhhhhhh" for a good five minutes in order to see his uvula (that thing that hangs down in the back of your throat that you always see when cartoon characters scream)

Scene 2:

Anonymous Youngest Child is staring out of the window instead of concentrating like a good little boy should on his lovely little math lesson.

Me: (fearing another school day iiinnnncccchhhiiinng till 4 o'clock) Youngest Child? Hey! Youngest Child! (he jumps, startled.) Can I close the curtain for you so that you don't get distracted and stare out the window?

Anonymous Youngest Child: (eyes wide in horror) No! That wouldn't help! If you did that then I would just stare at the curtain!

Anonymous Little Sister: (from across the room) Youngest Child, you are so weird.

Scene 3:

Setting: School Room/Parent's Room. Anonymous Youngest Child is working at his desk. I am sitting on the bed grading math. Anonymous Little Sister is on the floor cutting up magazines for a project about eating good food. Rain falls steadily into the flooded street in the background.

Aononymous Youngest Child: (reading his science book) "Speaking of digestion, I really need to go to the bathroom!" (he jumps up and runs out of the room. Little Sister and I exchange a Glance.)

Yes, we are still in the mysterious world of digestion. We've moved away from the mouth and are now learning all about the amazing, wonderous tube known as the small intestine, which we discovered is 23 ft. long. The large intestine is only about 7ft. long. So then we had to figure out why they gave them such misnomers...trust me, you don't want to know. But Youngest Child did. I just want to stop moving along. It's getting kind of gross. Why don't people photosynthesize?
It's still raining.

And that was just science.

Ben left today to live on his own. I miss him. He's teaching English over near Phaya Thai, about 40 minutes away from me over here in Bang Na. To get there you take a mini pickup truck down to the main road (from the soi to the thanon) and then a bus to the skytrain. Then you take the skytrain from On Nut to Phaya Thai and walk across the intersection. The whole trip costs around $1.25 (cheaper if you take an un-airconditioned bus.)
Now I have a bad headache, probably another sinus thing brought on by the nasty smog the stupid buses create. But I'll drink water and if it gets bad enough, take meds...though that will knock me out good.

My Little Sister: Fashion Maven

My sister Jaimie is ten. If you don't know my family, she is fourth in a line of five kids, of which I am the oldest. She's pretty cute as kids go, with a killer smile. She's homeschooled, and lives in Thailand. Right now she's on a Shakespeare kick and is reading through Much Ado about Nothing. Okay, I'm sure you can see her in your mind. She's a ten year old homeschooled missionary kid living on the other side of the world who is so socially inept that she likes reading Shakespeare.

No...not hardly.

Jaimie woke up this morning and did her hair in pigtails--low ones behind her ears. She carefully let two strands hang over her face. Over that she slid on my brother's navy blue knit beanie (we live in a tropical climate, k?) and put on dark blue boot cut jeans (because she won't wear anything but boot-cut) and a crimson shirt that says "I Bite" in rhinestones. To top it off, she adds a decidely gothic choker. Where did she get that? So imagine this...a little punked out ten year old reading Shakespeare and singing Newsies songs at the top of her lungs.

Me: Jaimie, where did you learn to dress like that?

Jaimie: I made it up.

Me: No you did not. That is totally a TV look. Did you get it from a movie?

Jaimie: Nope. I made it up.

Me: Do you have friends that dress like that?

Jaimie. Nope. I made it up. I just thought it would all look cool together.

So, if anyone knows where my silly, cute sister went, let me know. Although the silly, cute, fashion maven is certainly adorable. Just a little...frightening.

doo bee doo bee dooooo

So. The Question of the Day.

Where did it go? The answer? Irrelevant...

I'm learning to play the piano and I'm kind of good at it. Despite never touching an instrument except the piano to the point that I could play anything resembling a song (and the piano experience comes from when I was six and Daddy taught me Do, a Deer from the Sound of Music with one finger) I actually have something of an ear for it. I guess.

Everyone always comments on the oddity of a father who is a brilliantly talented musician with five children, none of whom play anything but computer games. There must be a reason for this...I suppose it's that we never had lessons. Why not? Because Dad could teach us. But he never did. Brilliant people have trouble explaining their brilliance you see. This is why we have jargon in the world.

Jargon is so that the brilliant people who are insecure in their brilliance because they cannot explain it can feel like they are brilliant despite their lack of interpersonal skills.
Not that my Dad has poor interpersonal skills--far from it. It's just hard to listen to a child thunk piano keys really slowly. But brilliance and jargon and my Daddy are not why I'm writing. They are the unedited flow of my mind...which seems to flow and is enabled in a rather unhealthy way by the ellipses... ... ... those lovely friendly looking triple dots.

I'm writing to say that I'm learning to play the piano. And I like it. So now I like writing and drawing and dancing and playing music. Jill of all hobbies and master of none.

sigh

Today I took five children and Luke from the water park to a concert with Ben.

In Bangkok.

I still know where all the children are, amazingly. And Luke will show up eventually, I'm sure...I left my house at six am, came back to get the children very quickly, then did water park, concert, bar, concert, english...and got everyone safely home by 10:30 pm. I'm DEAD.

g'night...whoever reads this...

Just give me the money, nice and easy like...

So I'm learning thai.

Rein poot pasae thai. Poot dai nit noy.

But I can ask you what kind of bills you have. As in do you have 20 B bills, 50 B bills, or 1000 B bills.
Khun mii baang aray kha?
(What bills do you have)

Dichan mii baang yii-sip (20) kap roy (100) kha.
(I have 20 bills and 100 bills)

Khun mii baang yii-sip tao rai kha?
(How many 20 bills do you have)

Dichan mii baang yii-sip sam bay kha?
(I have 3 20 B bills.)

I have three twenty baht bills, basically. So now (because we're supposed to be practicing our thai with actail thais) Ben and I are going to ask all the people on the BTS (Bangkok's El train) what kind of bills they have and how many of each kind.We just need to learn how to say "We're trying to decide who to rob" first.

Dichan mii paakaa sii dang song an paakaa sii som nung an kap dinsaw sii dam hok an. (I have two red pens, two orange pens and six black pencils. Points to any non-thai speaker who can guess which words are which.)

Hello, Cambodia??

I have now been to Cambodia!

1. I rode a tour bus

2.Walked through begger children with beggar children (smaller versions) tied to their backs and didn't let them pickpocket me.

3. Stood in a line for a rubber ink stamp (like those beautiful cards my Lindsey makes but much harder to come by.)

4. Had a digital picture taken (which websites say is viewed by the FBI in under two minutes. But they aren't looking for a brunette with a ponytail. They're looking for a brunette with a beard and a little white hat.)

5. Had lunch at a casino that was AMAZING. I bet it's better than the one in Aurora.

6. Had a Chocolate Cruch [sic] Frappe at the Starbucks rip off joint. It even had the pretty lights and the logo was this (holds up fingers about a cm apart) close.

7. Got back on the bus. So now I've been to Cambodia. It was fun.One border run down. 6 to go.

Oh, to be a missionary kid

I'm in Thailand, in case you didn't know.

My brother just beat me a lot at boggle and now he's watching me type this. He finds it extremely fascinating. He also finds my hair extremely fascinating when I put it up in a messy, curly bun. Or two of them. It's rather odd to have your little (17) year old brother stare at the back of your head going,"It's so intricate." and then continuing to stare and poke it.

Or to have him chuckle to himself as you write the blog entry that is about him, then to have him stop chuckling when he reads my comments on it, then become very self-concious and not know whether to laugh because I said he wasn't or not to because I said he was.

He would also like to inform "them" by which, I assume, he means the readers of this blog entry, that he has a cough.Then he proclaims to himself "I am so cute" and then cackles, but by now the chuckles are becoming guffaws and I'm starting to giggle a little myself. Besides, now he's performing for all of you. So I'll stop that now.

At the dinner Jaimie was talking about how few Americans there were in her international VBS. Mom disagreed--"What about those two little--"Jaimie cut her off. "Oh, no mom. Shana and Mari are Chineelians."

joy for despair

when we live in darkness...

Negativity. It is an easy trap to fall into. We are surrounded by blacks and grays and often fail to love the light because we become consumed with hating the darkness. This doesn't get rid of anything...the darkness is still dark and bad things don't lose any badness by being complained about. The hating just brings about more black feelings...

What is it to be joyful? I don't think it's incessant optimism or plastic smiles. Joy is rooted more deeply than that. It is the hope that no matter how discouraging things are, the sun will rise. The King will return. The blackness will fade as the stars explode like fireworks and explode around our ears.

But hope is not enough. We could hope forever, but if we never saw these things happen...we would still be in the darkness. Joy is the ability to take notice of the light and to be given over to it so that the darkness' only use is to remind us how bright the light can be.

So seek beauty. Seek light. Stop complaining and arguing so that you can shine like a star. Then explode.

we must not become it.

MAY

Wow, it's been a while. Nearly a month. I hope all two of my faithful readers have not lost hope.

IT'S MAY! My favorite non-person person is finally here.

The candle trees amd the lilacs bloomed. My heart finds a lot of solace in the yumminess of lilacs and the friendly glory of the candle trees.

It thunderstormed all last night and kept me awake. The sky was eerie and green and made me very creepy-feeling inside. I love thunderstorms in the day...there is something comforting in the majestic power of my God...but at night I feel like a child. I'm not scared of the lightning, nor the thunder, nor tornadoes or high winds, but I still feel small and unhappy.

But no more. The sky is still gloom-ridden, and the front was a cold one so the wind is chilly and I had to wear my denim jacket but that's okay, because I look rather adorable in it...

And I finished school. 42 credit hours later and I still have a 4.0. And no all-nighters this semester! Good for me! Wheeeeeee! Flying on freedom!

Okay, all you guys, eventually I'm moving to Thailand for six months and I'm doing a specifically for thailand blog and you can see it if you click here.

yep.

heart is...above those blasted clouds.

Running

I have a desire to run until my heart explodes and I fall completely unable to move. To completely expend myself and then to lie facedown on the ground, the night around me, and the cold air filling my tired lungs.

I don't know why.

Do I run to or from? Sometimes both. Sometimes I want to run away and away, never looking back, always pressing on. But I can't. There is a voice in the center of my head that quietly commands, "Go back, Anna. Sit down." just as I press my hands to the door. If I try to ignore that, there is an audible voice and very real hands that won't let me run. Sometimes I just want to bolt.

Other times I want to run toward something. I want to pursue, and to be chased, all at once. I want to run till my heart explodes. And I want to fly too. I want to leap around like a child in the backyard catching fireflies until bedtime. 'Cept my fireflies are joy and peace and love and hope and Jesus.

But really, I don't know why. I just want to run until I can't.

Looking at the Sky

...because nothing will burst until we get beyond ourselves.

I want to see hearts whole. I want to see a world that has ceased groaning and crying and instead is satisfied. I want to see Christ touch this planet.

Yet we worry about our lives. Countless minutia bog us down and instead of reaching for the light free falling above us, we stare at the ground, wondering where all the light went. I am learning to look up, into the sky...to seek the light instead of what I want. Yes. Instead of what I want.

What I want will go away. The little things. My little dreams are so little. But what God wants...and what I want because of God...will not fade. I want to see hearts become whole and even more precious to Jesus. I want joy on formerly empty faces.

I do this even with my faith. I delve too deeply into the details of me and God, and I become consumed, then, with the minutia of faith. Ironically, it is as soon as I begin that that I lose hope, for what hope can be found in picking apart details? Hope comes from loving God and loving Light. Seeking out beauty in darkness. Finding strength for fear. Recieving gladness when grief is overbearing. This is light. This is God. His name is Love.

So from there, I begin. I love. I love God. I love people. I love my jobs. I love my school and schoolwork. I love God. I look up. I chase the little star pieces until I can catch them in my hands and hold them, sparkly, shiny. And I can show them to the world, one heart at a time.

flecks of gold

I know that when real stars expolde all kinds of exciting things happen regarding black holes and supernovas and all sorts of things my brother could probably tell you about. He's the one who made it through Stephen Hawking.

I'm talking about light shattering and spreading across space, filling darkness with flecks of gold. Words and ideas...precious pieces of hope in a space so cold it sometimes forgets the gold flecks.

Time for the stars to explode.