announcement

I might as well make it official, thereby making myself accountable to all y'all nice folks:

My goal in 2010 is to acquire an agent.

There. I said it.

Oy vey.

Getting Things Done, and other importantnesses

So, in the interest of bragging, I'd like to direct your attention here, so that you might ooh-aah over How Much I Have Gotten Done since the recent posting of my to-do list.

Yes, I am tooting my own horn, and I am liking it, thank you very much.

*toot*

*toot*

*grin*

I am a geek.

On a more serious note, there is something on that to-do list that I would like to report is now going better. Two somethings, actually. The first is that I have gone running twice a week for the last three weeks. It hasn't been easy--actually, it has been mostly frustrating and demoralizing as I see how much stamina I lost by not running for two months. Six running sessions, and I still can't go as far or as fast as what I was doing when I quit in November.

That's the first time I've called it what it was: quitting. I quit for two months. I hadn't been able to admit that to myself until now.

I soooooooooooooo badly want to get back to what I was doing before I quit. I had been so encouraged by the progress I'd made; it's not easy for a former heart patient to build up the kind of stamina that comes naturally to most people. And by quitting, I sabotaged myself. I tend to do that with a lot of things--too many to go into right now. But I often wonder if I subconsciously believe that I don't deserve for good to come my way, and so I sabotage myself so as to avoid the good I believe I don't deserve?

Possibly. But that is another story and shall be told another time. ;o)

Anyway, the point is that I WANT to work hard and build back up my to pre-November stamina...and then I want to go further. I am competing against no one but myself, which might make my challenge more difficult.

On the other hand, I ***looooooooooooove*** challenge. Bring it on!

The second "to-do" is that I've been listening to God a lot more lately. Things finally came to a head several weekends ago, when I found myself in so much pain--mental and emotional--that I simply had to drop everything and go to God. I'm sorry I let myself go so far that hitting rock-bottom like that was necessary. But hit the bottom I did, and from there, I had nowhere to go but up.

I don't want to go into details, because really, they're not important. What matters is that for about seventeen hours, I couldn't see or talk to anyone (except Ed, since (a) he lives with me and (b) he got to experience the full force of my emotional-fallen-apart-ness). I talked to God a lot, but I couldn't bring myself to go out and see anyone else. It feels a little weird to say, but my need to spend time with God was so great, I couldn't bring myself to attend a Sunday morning worship service. I was so desperate for God, I wanted no other humans with me, not even other Christians. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but that's how it was.

By Sunday evening, I had regained enough peace to worship with the house church and immerse myself gladly in that fellowship. Since then, I feel as though I've started being a little more aware of God's presence in my life. My relationship with God still isn't anywhere near where it should be--but I think there is healing going on, like a medicine deep inside, working where nobody but God can see. This isn't the first time in my life that I've experienced this healing; one would think I would have remembered that there's a reason he is called the Great Physician.

Hey, remember the song we used to sing when we were kids?

"He's still workin' on me
to make me what I ought to be...
How loving and patient he must be..."

Why do we ever stop singing that song? It's a lot more relevant for adults than it is for children.

transitional ruminations

I feel as though I'm overdue in penning some words about the cultural transition that Ed and I have been going through. To begin, I'd like to grace you with a top ten list that illustrates one of the frustrations that goes along with transitioning, namely, the fact that people often don't know what to say to us. (Please note that I am not angry over these utterances, but frustrated.)

Top Ten Things NOT To Say To Cultural Transitioners And Why
(in random order, though I have a particular dislike for #s 5 and 7)

1. How was your trip?
It wasn't a trip. It wasn't a vacation. It was my life. Please to be noticing the difference, thank you. ;o)

2. We've been praying for you to come back.
I think I know what you mean when you say that, and you might think that's a lovely sentiment. But when you say that, what I hear is that you've been praying for me to be separated from people and places I love. That's neither helpful nor encouraging.

3. You've got a lot of time on your hands now! You could (fill in blank with an activity or a job for which I have expressed no interest).
I didn't come back here with no plan of what I want to do with my life. This was not a spontaneous, frivolous decision. Much thought and prayer and planning went into it. Please don't assume I'm sitting around, bored, with nothing to do, just waiting for you to come rescue me with ideas that would make *you* happy.

4. Oh, you were in XLand? I was in XLand back in the '70s....XLanders are so (fill in the blank with a prejudice you developed while you were over there for two years 30 years ago).
Please don't assume your experiences were my experiences. Also, please refrain from telling me, based on your few months' experience, what the people of my homeland are like. Not to be snotty, but I do believe I know them better than you do.

5. Adjusting? Oh, give it a couple of months, you'll be fine.
I see. And the last time you went through cross-cultural reentry was...? Oh, you've never left your home state? Ah.

6. It's so good to have you back. I don't know why anyone would want to leave here in the first place.
(Okay, so nobody has said these words to me directly....but the implication is all over the place.) Well, probably because God created a whole, huge, interesting planet that I want to know about, not just a single continent.

7. I bet you're proud to be back.
I'm sorry, but I don't even know what that statement means.

8. It's good to have you back.
Why? You've never had more than two or three conversations with me. You don't know me. How could my presence possibly signify in your life one way or the other?
(Note: This truly applies only to those who haven't made an effort to get to know the returnee. If you do know me, and if you have made the effort, it is definitely heart-warming to hear you say that you're thankful for my being here!)

9. Aren't you glad to be back?
Yes. No. Maybe. Sometimes, the answer changes from one hour to the next. If you're not prepared to listen to an answer you don't really want to hear, please don't ask.

10. We're so glad to have you home.
This isn't my home. For one thing, I didn't grow up here. From that perspective, I haven't lived in my "home" for 12 years. For another, I spent the last 6 years building relationships and planting roots somewhere far removed from here. This isn't my home. This is your home. On this earth, I don't have a home. And actually, I'd like it to stay that way.

11. Unspecified.
Open to anyone who wants to share some of their own experiences of being on the receiving end of remarks of this sort, as well as dealing graciously with them. I don't always. Especially when it's stuff like #s 5 and 7. ;o)


Looking over the last 8 months (we have been here over 8 months--that is so weird), I can see a lot of lows, a lot of highs, a few plateaus, and some banged-up knees and elbows as we've tripped and fallen and sprawled flat on our faces and gotten back up again. I say "we" because Ed and I both have dealt with our share of spiritual and emotional scrapes and bruises...but really, I'm talking about my own transition here. Cross-cultural reentry is an intensely personal experience (which is what makes it so difficult to describe to anyone who has never experienced it), so each person's is different.

My lowest point so far was Earlyapril through mid-May. The bathtub incidents kind of set off the depression--but if it hadn't been the bathtub, it would've been something else. But I've had help. Help from a wonderful, loving God, who has sent wonderful, loving people into my life and placed me in loving, wonderful communion with them. I've had help through open, honest, in-depth conversation. I've had help through "The Artist's Way" (by Julia Cameron--THANK YOU, GAIL!!!), which is opening my eyes more and more to what it truly is that God created me to be. I've had help through a loving, wonderful, commiserating husband, who has actively grown with me even as he deals with his own transition issues.

I feel very blessed. I not only feel it, I *am* it, and I live it. I hesitate to say that I am learning to be content, since that is such a huge concept....but I think I am beginning to learn it. I am beginning to know why I am here, I am beginning to know what the next step could look like, and it's an unknown shape, but I'm excited about it instead of terrified. I feel as though I am unpacking my mind here, instead of merely unpacking cardboard boxes. I am beginning to travel light again, instead of schlepping around the misery of not knowing who I am. I am beginning to feel/see/hear reference points, reorient my inner compass, tune my inner self to the resonance of God's universe.

No matter what happens, I always know that eventually, I'll be at peace. Moving over here, finding myself in a low spot of sadness and depression, I knew that eventually I'd be at peace.

It's nice that at-peace is starting to happen again.

God is faithful

Well, only a few minutes, and I am already posting something non-moving-related. But for good reason.

Ed and I just got a call that Jim Springer, our dear friend and Christian brother, died just a few minutes ago. We knew this was coming, but it's still a terrible blow. "A terrible blow"--what a terrific understatement. I don't have the right words to describe what's going through my mind and heart right now. But "a terrible blow" is the very least of it.

Jim has been Ed's mentor for 11 years and mine for about 4. In a way, Jim and his wife Elsa have been another set of parents for the two of us. We just saw him in July, when we took part in another of the Springers' ETM classes. God works in amazing ways, because to me, this was the most helpful, challenging, and valuable ETM class I've been in. I feel so privileged and encouraged to have benefited from Jim's teaching one last time.

Early September was the first hint that anything was wrong. Jim was diagnosed with cancer about three weeks ago.

I think maybe that is why this is such a huge shock. Nobody saw this coming. And yet, this is how reality is: None of us have a guarantee of tomorrow. Jim's situation was not unique; that could have been any one of our spouses; it could be any one of us. What a strong reminder this is that each of us needs to be prepared.

Jim was prepared. In her last email, Elsa said he was happy to be going home. He was excited about the next step he would take. Now he has taken it, and in my heart, sadness is accompanied by thanksgiving. For over a week now, since the German churches learned how serious Jim's condition was, we have all been praying that Jim would not suffer. God has answered our prayers in the grandest way possible, by sparing Jim the suffering and by taking him to a perfect place.

Death isn't the worst thing that can happen. We humans usually believe that, but it is a lie. The worst thing that can happen is for a human's life to end before that human has entered into a covenant relationship with God. Jim had that covenant relationship, and now he's home. Even in our grief, we certainly don't begrudge him that.

If you're the kind of person who prays, pray for Elsa. Pray for Jim's daughters, sons-in-law, and grandchildren. Pray for the family and friends who are still here. Pray for the German churches, who have been blessed through Jim for more than 30 years. Pray for us, because we miss him.

prayer

"It is good to debate the mysteries of prayer, to ponder the profundities of prayer, to learn the methods of prayer. It is better to pray.

"Prayer is a little like an automobile: you do not have to understand everything about its inner workings for it to get you somewhere."

--Richard J. Foster
in "Devotional Classics"

prayer requests

 
For those of you who pray to God, I have a few requests that you might help me pass on to him: 

My mom, Kay Weger, will have surgery this coming Tuesday to remove a cyst that is on or around her appendix. They will take out her appendix at the same time. If all goes as planned, the surgery will be relatively brief, and she'll go home Tuesday afternoon/evening. 

Also, my grandfather, Bill Weger, is scheduled for an angiogram on Feb. 12th. His carotid artery is partially blocked (I don't know if it's calcium buildup or cholesterol buildup.), and the angiogram will determine whether the doctors should put in a stent, or open up the artery to scrape out the plaque. Either way, after the angiogram, the next procedure will take place on Feb. 20th, I think. 

Please pray that God will bless the minds and hands of the doctors and nurses working with my mom and my grandpa. Please pray that God's will be done. Nothing more complicated than that. :o) 

Thanks, 

Courtney