My name is Wealthy.

I'm wide awake at 3:45 a.m. with thoughts and realizations I want to share. It seems that sleep will not be granted unless I get out at least some of what is overflowing in my mind. As strange as this sounds, the one thing I keep seeing in my mind is my name, Jessica, and it's meaning: wealthy. Except when I see that word is seems big to me. Like WEALTHY.

I believe names hold weight, which is probably why choosing a name for our new son is so difficult. We don't think lightly of the very first gift we give him. Instead we think of how it will affect the way he sees himself and even all the ways he may unknowingly grow into that name. Biblically, names seem to hold great significance, and God has been known to even give new names to those who have been changed or have accepted a new role or calling in their walk of life (Saul to Paul or Jacob to Israel, for example).

Just in the last couple of weeks, I have unmistakably experienced what it feels like to really be Jessica. I feel like God is my teacher and he is pointing quite clearly to the writing on the chalkboard, and my eyes have finally focused on what was just a blur a couple weeks ago: WEALTHY. I believe it now.

I wonder how long I have sat in what seemed like justifiable discontentment. Months? Years, probably. It almost scares me to reflect on that. If I dare look back on my life I see discontentment in friendships, in churches, in my geographic location, in my possessions. Discontentment is unfortunate. It's the opposite of wealthy, really.

To bring all this contemplation to physical form, let me explain the events that led up to this realization.

Almost this entire pregnancy we have been looking to buy our first home. This 2 bedroom rental home is getting smaller as my belly gets bigger. We looked at DOZENS of homes and made a couple offers, and the one question people always asked us was "how is the house hunt going?" because everyone knew that a new home was our intention and hope for the near future. It has been draining and disappointing despite how great the market apparently is for buying. Shane was spending hours searching for homes partly because he looks forward to owning and fixing up his own home, but also because his wife was VERY ready to get out of this tiny house. We recently decided to let go of this goal since baby will be arriving shortly, but mostly because I realized how exhausted I was from trying so hard to change our circumstance. But it wasn't just a goal I let go of, but the future in general.

One evening as I was in tears from exhaustion I realized that there was no more of myself to give toward planning and hoping for a certain future, and I was sacrificing my present time with Oliver and Shane. I kept telling myself that he needed a bigger yard and more outdoor space to enjoy life, but he was begging to enjoy life with me NOW. He was dragging me to his room to play with toys and sit down for a book or movie as soon as I was in the front door. He was clinging to me at bedtime so we could savor a few moments together before sleep. When I realized this (and thank God I did), I started to make myself more at home. I unpacked all of the baby items I didn't think we had room for. My evenings felt longer and more intimate, and I stopped feeling the constant nagging of productivity. I allowed myself to decorate and organize the neglected corners of our home. And our crammed little rental turned into a cozy home of our own. It was like putting on a pair of new glasses and seeing things how they really are. I saw our hardwood floors and the beautiful collection of refinished furniture my husband has labored on. I saw my raw, country-home-meets-third-world decor touching every room. I saw the luxury of two bathrooms and extra cabinet space I forgot I had. I saw our little shaded nook between the house and garage that invites tired feet to the hammock.

I am Wealthy.

This wasn't the end of my realization. God had plans to show me quite evidently a different kind of wealth. A few days ago, my friend Ruth threw me a baby shower and only 4 friends were able to attend. They blessed me with money toward breast pumps which I will most definitely need when I return to work full-time after maternity leave. But these girls surprised me with their gift of words. They each spent time encouraging me as a mother and recalling how they have observed me as a mom with Oliver. They had me in tears as they listed my strengths and commented on the beautiful, well-mannered and happy boy we have raised. And to overwhelm me more, they surrounded me on the couch and prayed over this new life with baby and spoke blessings over our family. I felt like my heart did not have room to hold these gifts and I hope I don't lose or forget them.

Yesterday I was thrown a SECOND baby shower by my coworkers. These women have been my mothers, my aunts and my sisters. They are protective, giving, listening, advising, humorous and honest. They care deeply for me in a way I truly need being so far from my family in Illinois. It was a lovely shower with an abundance of gifts and they even gave me a generous sum to help Shane and I purchase cloth diapers. The food was incredible. So good I had a major urge to hug someone every time I took a bite or a drink. Then they spent a few moments speaking blessings and prayers over me and I could barely hold myself together. My heart somehow made room to receive their words and believe they were mine to keep. I went home to my family (including my sister-in-law, Amanda, who is currently rooming with us) and shared how wonderful of a party it was. It was fun to show them the gifts and tell them about the special time we had. And sometime that evening I was trying to express to Amanda these wonderful emotions and she said something about my being "rich with friendship." I can't stop thinking about that. I have never felt so RICH with relationship in my entire life. I don't know when this happened, but sometime in the last three and a half years I accumulated a WEALTH of friends and extended family in the Northwest.

In the midst of all this I think I lost that old friend, discontentment. And it makes me smile.

My Indonesian Experience

October 15, 2009

It's only Thursday, but who knows when I'll have time to reflect and tell my story of Indonesia when we return. Just one more day here, one more in Singapore then we return to America.

I am barely able to stay awake on this couch in Amanda's apartment with the mosques trying to sing me to sleep. Five times a day they try to sing me to sleep. They're hard to get used to, but it's a neat reminder that I'm in another culture altogether. Within the guarded walls of a Christian school it can feel comfortable and normal until I look up at the coconut trees and tile roofs. But once we step outside the gates, all the motor bikes, carts full of crops and dark, curious faces make my heart thump with excitement. I am outnumbered. I am lost. Thankfully Amanda is practically fluent in the language and knows these streets in the dark. But "Mari" and "Ma'af" and "Tirama kasi" connect me enough to all the questioning passersby. They nod and smile and come close to touch Oliver's soft, white skin. He's universally irresistible. He makes me seem approachable and safe. He's my free pass to just about anywhere.

My first impression of Indonesia was the crowded streets of staring faces and the amazingly new kind of traffic. It's amazing because there are no rules other than staying on the left, yet the drivers are so aware and in control. I felt very unexpectedly safe.

October 23, 2009

I finished half of an article in the Voices of the Martyrs newsletter and suddenly felt the urge to continue my story of Indonesia. Those 10 days of Asian cultural exposure awakened something in me I don't think I'll ever be able to let go. My stomach flutters at the thought of seeing more of this continually amazing world. And more than that...I long to live dangerously for my faith. I don't mean that in a naive, romantic-missionary way. I mean that this trip opened my perspective of spirituality and what it means to live whole-heartedly for whatever you believe in.

If I could pick out pieces of this trip to show you, it would be the way it looks to walk down the streets on Java island, the constant spiritual awareness of the culture, the simple yet struggling way of life, and the most amazing coffee I have ever tasted.

Perhaps the reason the streets stand out so much to me is because that is how you get anywhere any day and so that is what I saw most of. Almost everyone owns a motor bike. It's apparently the most efficient way to get around, and to transport your goods, believe it or not. Whether you need to move your furniture to a new home, your crops to the market or your family of five to the nearest mosque, the motor bike will do the trick. And if you see someone along the way who needs a lift, pile them on top. A piece of wisdom I picked up from this trip is: You can always fit one more. I experienced this my first day in Salatiga when we took the angkot to the market (a van with bench seats along the windows so that passengers sit in facing each other). The four of us climbed in when there were already five other passengers in the back. I couldn't help but smile the whole ride as we somehow fit more and more in. And I loved the fact that when I was explaining to Amanda that I felt like this was a ride in a circus clown car that possibly no one in the whole van could understand my language. Suddenly I was a foreigner....and I spoke a cool and different language! I became very aware of the sounds my mouth made wondering how they sound to the Indonesians who keep staring at me.

The next thing I noticed was the open commitment to faith. A young man sitting beside me held a pocket version of either the Koran or the Holy Bible. Two other women in the bus wore head coverings and long dresses. And five times a day(often more than that) voices from all the mosques in the community would call the Muslims to prayer. Instead of feeling separate from these others who held tightly to a different belief than mine...I felt somehow closer to them than ever before. I don't have any Muslim friends or ever get to talk to Muslims. I've only heard about the faith from books or radio or television or school or friends who have been to or live in Muslim communities. It was a surprise to feel such a strong connection to these people. And I think it's because I too live by faith. And our two faiths are similar in many ways. The Jewish and Christian faiths are at the roots of Islam. We are like brothers and sisters who are now walking in different directions praying the others will change direction. I am now hoping to learn more about Islam. Maybe take a class or befriend someone who either is Muslim or used to be. I'm thankful to have experienced and understand better this new connection.

Beyond the outward religious appearance of this part of Indonesia, I learned about the spiritual awareness that is a part of every day life. And by that, I mean the cultural traditions and experiences that include praying to spirits, bodily possession of spirits, physical displays and interactions with spirits. It's not ridiculous or dramatic in this culture. It's everywhere. From the spirit trees that no one dares to cut down to entertaining audiences with demonic-possession. It is a very real and interesting aspect of this place that I wish I could have learned more about. I will have to live vicariously through Abbie (a teacher at Amanda's school and my new Facebook friend!) who's similar interest in this spiritual culture is captured with incredible photography and documentation.

One of my favorite parts of the trip was getting to move outside of busy streets to fields and farms. We walked along footpaths through rice fields and small farms. Saying "Mari" to the workers and chidlren at play. "Turan, turan?" (which means sightseeing) they would ask. Yeah...just looking at your fields and yards and homes and children and animals. They seemed to like our interest in their home. What amazed me is that they harvested all their crops by hand or by plow pulled by water buffalo. This raw, dirty labor is an expected and normal way of life. And watching them made me want to get soil under my nails.

November 22, 2009

I suppose the last aspect I want to tell you about is my coffee experience. It was like inviting myself on a National Geographic or PBS documentary. I took the tours of plantations and stood in the forest of coffee trees breathing in the Jasmine scent of their blossoms and picking the little red beans. I saw them roast the beans over the fire. Then they let us sit under a pavilion with the mountains and tree tops to stare at while we sipped the freshly-brewed coffee in little glasses; coffee grounds soaking in the bottom. On the table was a dish holding shiny, black beans and another holding flakes of palm sugar. Our guide told us you eat the two together. I can't blame my excitement on caffeine. It was the whole atmosphere and experience...and the fact that the coffee I was tasting was indeed the best to have ever passed my lips. I was on the island of Java...and the coffee is no myth. The plantation gave us little bags of the powdery grounds to take back, and it disappeared too quickly. Thankfully, I was able to buy green beans at the second plantation to roast myself at home. Two pounds for $2 US. I couldn't stop grinning. I haven't roasted them yet, since my in-laws left a huge can of Folgers sitting regretfully on my coffee bar. But I love the way my 2 bags of green coffee beans remind me of my Indonesian gift of true experience.

I will close this blog with a quote from a book I am reading called Cross Cultural Connections. It refers to a short-term stay in a foreign country and the slight culture shock you might receive upon return to your home country. The author refers to one's background culture as square, and a foreign culture as circle. "You find mild disappointment in your home culture, but in a couple of weeks the busyness of life consumes you and many of your feelings and thoughts become submerged in being square again." It's a bittersweet time as I reflect on my trip. I wish I could have had the opportunity to become more "circle". It was almost too easy to come home to the American society. I know Indonesia left a mark on me. I just don't know exactly what it looks like and I hope it doesn't fade.

To see photos of this trip visit my facebook album #1 and album #2.


PS - The most common question people ask me about this trip is "How did Oliver do?"
He did great. GREAT. We were complimented over and over on how well-behaved and mellow he was. I think he was made for traveling; or at least adapting. The new faces and scenery were really good for him. He thrives on new experiences. It's sort of scary that he's okay with running off in a different direction without looking back once. But it helps my mother heart to know he is NOT comfortable in strangers' arms. The women especially were drawn to Oliver's angelic looks and couldn't help but stroke his cheeks and blond hair. But he didn't necessarily have the same interest in their skin color and hair. He just wanted to run through their streets and fields. Keep it up Oliver, and you will experience more than I could ever imagine for you.

...for those who are still reading....

PPS - Our very last day of vacation we spent in Singapore with a college friend, Mar, who was able to spend the day showing us what makes Singapore strange, unique and...well...Singapore. I have a hard time knowing what to say about it. It happened so fast, and we saw and learned so much. Tall buildings, mega malls, we talked about politics, the crazy strict laws, we saw China town and little India. We ate really great food for really cheap. But the best part was getting to know Mar more than we had the chance to when we all attended JBU. He's got a huge, honest heart and speaks up when necessary for what is right. He has a hardcore belief system yet the patience and contentment to be used by God wherever he is in life. We hope to see you in the states again, Mar. And if not...I'm sure there's more of Singapore we haven't seen. :) I'm up for seeing Bali too!