Not Just Because I Can

Over Christmas, I have a visit from a great friend by the name of John Miller. I think this photo captures the essence of our friendship.

On to other things...

I am extending. I don't know all the details. I am planning on adding two years, but there are still things to work out. I am not extending just because I can, or because I love this school, or because I have nothing else to do. I have so many options. But staying here does not mean I will miss out on anything. You might contend that opportunities are gone, friends might fade, and my life's course will drastically deviate from "what could have been" (maybe even a sigh would accompany such a thought). I am not the type to imagine an omniscient sense of how the future plays out based on my decisions now. By some exclusive property, yes, I will admit that I am passing up on unknowns that the future would hold if I were in the US. To say that I could care less would carry undertones of apathy that are misleading. In theory, I don't think I can be dissatisfied with what I am doing if I truly believe that I am acting out of Christian faith. I am certainly not perfect, though, and maybe I made this decision based on the wrong criteria. Maybe I made it at the wrong time. Maybe I made it in the wrong context, with the wrong reasons.

All those musings seem confuddling (not a word). I made this decision based on what I have. I didn't want to make it in my comfortable, US context. That would have been cheating. I didn't desire for different criteria. That would have discounted what I am doing now. I didn't want to make it a different time. That would have degraded my connection to this community. And I certainly didn't want different reasons. That would have cut God out of my equation.

Perhaps I will feel differently in a year. Perhaps that should be scary. I can just as easily contend that perhaps I would be miserable back in the US, with thoughts of "what could have been in Jordan" (again, *sigh*). Conjectures, though, are boring.

I am not comfortable in this culture (I can't imagine how hard it would be for a female). I certainly don't understand a lot of what goes on around me. I constantly have ideas about how I would like to improve the educational approach here, but am not in a position to really even suggest reform. I am certainly not intoxicated by this place. Definitely not needed. Slightly appreciated. Increasingly blessed. Inadequately thankful. Evidently happy. Peacefully content.

Recently, I have had some awesome experiences. A veritable explosion of utterly nonsensical, raucous laughter from Mohammed as I tried to convince him that a stuffed animal was fluent in sign-language. Witnessing Haazim independently execute his first sign ever, under my instruction after only a few days of extra work with him (which I was initially ungrateful, even indignant about being assigned to). Continued excitement during a game, as Haazim went into fits of joy in response to my signing of "correct" with inappropriately loud verbalizations of the Arabic word to accompany it. And, the simple moments, when Mohammed (without reason or prompting) approaches me to point his finger into my chest, then makes a horizontal "V" with his hand, brings it to his head, and closes it as his hand moves away. It means, "You are happy." And he is always right.

I anticipate these experiences will keep coming, but they are not the reason for my extended term. Maybe it will get harder, but I do love the people here. I love this spiritual community. Love doesn't have a contingency that allows it to fade when things get hard. Or when I think about missing out on another alumni game at Bethel College. Or wonder if I'll ever get married. Or doubt that I'll find the vocation that God is calling me to. But the love from God that I know is consistent. It is fulfilling. I hope that my service here is directly accessing a vein of that love. And the reason that I can extend is because of that infallible, unfailing well which I have access to. I have a lot of work to do. I have a lot of growth to undergo. God is helping me, and is with me. It was an important decision, but not a difficult or big one. And if you know me, you probably can understand the laid-back-ishness that I convey here. I don't fret over decisions when I make them, because as long as I feel God at work, I am at peace. And I have that, which seems adequate. Peace.

Transparency

Best picture I could find. Confused. Happy. Signing. All me.

In some ways, I have learned to dissect my own thoughts. It is as if I have one brain for thinking and another brain to analyze the first brain's motives. Not an essential skill, and it certainly makes me busy in thought (an ongoing process to monitor active processes isn't always efficient). Still, it often keeps me...peaceful.

There is an incredible amount of thought that has been allotted to considering extending my term with MCC. There is a requisite for such a decision, and I somehow am blocking it. I didn't decide to do SALT because of the chance to travel. Or see a new culture. Or be on my own. Or find myself. Or to prove I know what a Christian is supposed to do (which I don't quite have nailed down). The requisite is clear-cut: Be faithful and go where God leads. And here I am.

I like being led. It might appear as apathy, or complacency, or maybe just uncertainty. I prefer to think of it as...trusting. Not look before you leap, but jump before you think. It keeps me from faltering, falling back on the perceived power I have in making my own decisions. And it is good to feel powerful, I won't deny that. But once you realize it is a contrived sense of control, it kind of loses its luster. And now, I have this decision forced upon me. I get to determine my future.

Bwaahaa (that is the cry of the worker at Lon Lon Ranch in Zelda: Ocarina of Time...if you don't get it, move on). Sure, the decision will put me in a place (culture, context, occupation, etc.), but what I do and how I do it are the important things. So, a place determines my future? I think, no. In that respect, this decision feels irrelevant. Jesus seems to be telling me that having family 45 minutes away isn't top on his list. And that having a rec. league basketball team doesn't make the cut. And that the desire to reconnect with college friends is precluded by a love for your neighbor, whoever that might be. I don't think I am called to deny those things indefinitely. I do think I am called to deny them entirely when considering extending my term, though. Just the same as I am called to deny the flattery and encouragement that emboldens me to think I belong in this deaf/deaf-blind, Arabic community.

So, I have come down to a need for transparency. I haven't discussed this decision extensively with...anyone really. If only one thing matters, why discuss all the reasons that my brain is coming up with, or the analytical side to discern motives of those reasons? (If you would like to talk to me about it, I'm game, just because communication is so gosh-darn fun.) So, I am gonna wait, and on the day that I need to make the decision (Saturday) I am cutting it all down to see where I am led (not where I am pulling). I work with deaf-blind students, and every moment they have that kind of trust. To take the hand, and just go. Not because they know what is coming, but because the person leading does. That should be enough. Peace.

P.S.- I don't really have two brains. Additionally, I had an alternative method of making this decision, but it involved factors such as: If my presence in Kansas would increase KU's chances of another national championship in basketball. If I would be entirely bald (not by choice) by the time an extended term were finished. If teleportation would be a viable method of transportation within the next two years, thus nullifying the need to choose between Jordan and the US. If I was planning on being hit by a car, inducing life-threatening head-trauma, which would render my auditory nerves damaged, leaving me deaf (not plausible, but if I was planning it, then staying in this community would make sense). If a Jordanian bride were offered to me within the next few days (not saying I would accept, but the gesture would certainly be appreciated and quite moving). And if the local shops here would carry ice cream year-round (seriously, I like ice cream a lot, and superficially, that holds a lot of clout in my book).

Cutting Through Inessentials

I have almost made my decision. I love working here in Jordan. I love being a special-education teacher. I love how seamless this transition has been. I love being the "foreigner" and changing perceptions about Americans. I LOVE my deaf-blind children. And I probably won't extend my term here. No need for lamentation.

I felt a distinct calling to do SALT. It had nothing to do with a preconceived notion that I am a light to others, and I should by all means travel the world to illuminate the lives of others. It was simpler than that, and hopefully less naive. I did my best to clear my mind, eliminate personal and cultural pressures. I wanted to feel a bit more surrendered. To engage the idea of service without presupposing that I have spectacular calling to which I must adhere. No obligations except to listen, carefully. Delicately, painfully cutting through my own intentions to find the faintest of whispers. I don't really know what I found, but I just knew it was clear once personal motivations were shed, at least to the greatest extent my flawed perspective was capable of.

In considering extending my SALT term, I haven't been doing that. I examined what I love, and what I want. It isn't that those things wouldn't coincide with service, but ultimately, that doesn't necessarily integrate with faithfulness. It comes down to cutting through the inessentials, to find that one important thing. A "calling" sounds so exclusive, but it is usually the language I subscribe to. I'll bypass that here in favor of expressing this process as "listening". It sounds like a cop out, as if I am waiting out God, hoping to have the direction provided. That isn't how I see it. I am just trying to keep my limited (often selfish) perspective from poisoning my decision, under pretense of righteousness. I very much doubt I can entirely eliminate my fallibility, but poison in small amounts is bearable, without toxically endangering the outcome.

I am usually the obstacle in a relationship. No amount of sincerity can overcome personal motives. So, I want this decision to be made without sincerity. Yeah, now I'm confused too. It should be self evident. That is the nature of truth. It just is. Can't contain it, can't own it. You just experience it. Sincerity not required. With open eyes, open heart, open mind, I hope to get there. As of now, my motives excluded, I am experiencing a new feeling. I feel a bit closer to God, and I feel like I won't be in Jordan next year. It is, quite surely, more real than the reasons to stay, which I have conjured up over the past few months. But rather than following a host of important things, I think I am closer to following the one important thing. Peace.

Dichotomy

I could tell you about my week, the joys of teaching, the successes and failures, and how life is Jordan is shaping up. But I won't. You might even want to hear about those things, but I am too far away for you to hold significant authority over the content of my blog. Seriously, what are you going to do? Send me a strongly worded email? Defile my image on your prayer card with a less than flattering addition of a curly moostache? (emphasis on the "moooo") Put a delicious cake in a box, then send it to me knowing that the postal service in Jordan is less than reputable, resulting in a rather dissappointing delivery of a moldy surprise 6 weeks later? Trivial responses that hold no power here.

Instead, I will tell you about my realization (or acknowledgement of what I already knew) yesterday, while fulfilling my duties as resident painter. I have two competing mindsets. One that tells me I should continue to be guided towards a vocation, and another that tells me that to love others is my vocation. I think both to be valid, and each has varying degrees of selfishness involved. Once I decided to do SALT, I didn't have to worry about each. An assumption was made that I would do this for a year, and then I would know what to do afterwards. It wasn't ignorance, or a naive sense of purpose, or even some presupposition that I could do whatever I want and God would eventually direct me. I just figured that the answer was somewhere in the future, to be stumbled upon.

Ha. You are picturing me, the fool, tripping over a rock? No. I am sitting here. I saw the rock 10 steps before I could have tripped. So, now, I sit before it. Deliberating. Pondering. A tranquil state of pensiveness. Quite content.

I know there isn't an answer. An answer would insinuate that there was a question. There isn't one. Just a decision. And each path has varying degrees of selfishness, accompanied by genuine passion and relevance. Could I extend my term with MCC? To continue working with "my" deaf-blind children. To continue to be so far from family. To continue to be a cultural anomaly. To continue volunteering for the sake of a cause, for the sake of love and service. To wonder how significantly it would alter future paths if I stayed. To continue to be unabashedly captivated by the wonders of my job. I have seen the negatives, and have felt the drudgery of this schedule. The exhaustion comes and goes. And none of it, at any point, has concealed the truth. I love this place, and after the first month here, I was already thinking about how hard it would be to say goodbye. Maybe it would be selfish to put off the need to say goodbye...

And then, there is the other side. I could leave it at one year. Seems practical. Find my niche when I return to the U.S., resume my position in familiarity. Actively discern God's calling, and integrate my SALT experience in a newly formed perspective, allowing for the pursuit of a vocation that reflects my convictions and integrates my gifts. Reconnect with friends. Spend time with family. Make some money, pay the rent, establish a plan for the future. Good stuff. An allure of returning to familiarity carries undertones of selfishness as well...

Just because I am in Jordan doesn't mean I can't feel your thoughts. You think this is a tough position for me to be in. Alone, working through a seemingly important decision. So many things to consider, with implications galore. I relish this. I am at an all-time high. I can't lose, because no matter which way I go, it will be the right decision. As long as I am aware of my motivations, and push them all aside to ultimately choose where God can best use me, then the degree of difficulty and loss of the "other path" become irrelevant. I can't anticipate when the decision will need to be made, and I don't know if I'll truly "know" which path I'm on until I stop again to look back. For now, I'll sit here and play with this rock for a while. Maybe I'll even take it with me when I resume walking, just in case I want another stumbling point in the future. Peace.

Thanksgiving in Jordan

Thanksgiving was spent on the following, thrilling activities: reading, exercising, shopping for food, cleaning, and welcoming guests. I will articulate what each entailed in utterly captivating detail.

Reading: I recently received, from my sister, an electronic reader. It is a nifty little toy than contains all the books my heart could desire. I have quickly put it to use, and enjoy its convenience. Still, it was a bit disappointing that customs put an egregious tax on the package, approximately equaling three-fourths the value of the item itself. Such is life...

Exercising: I have concocted a rather unique aerobic workout, which takes place in the 5ftx5ft open space in my room. It is a seamless unification of many techniques, including (though not limited to) the following: kick-boxing, tae-bo, yoga, interpretive dance, running in place, jumping and jumping jacks (flailing arms included), static muscle flexing (I don't know if that is really a term), and push-ups (if there is time). It is a simple combination of awesome wrapped in mind-numbing intensity baked in creativity. Yes, I think that accurately describes it.

Shopping: Food is something towards which I lack proper sense of necessity. I can go without food for weeks, maybe even years (I am pretty sure). But, when placed in the heart of a convenience store (which, in Jordan, only involves stepping through the door), I quickly become victim to poor judgment. Upon this day, though, I triumphantly conquered. I bought food for the next two days for only 2.35 JD. Bread, hoummus, tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and two grapefruit. Incidentally, I recognize that, while tempting to use, "grapefruits" is not an acceptable plural. Regardless, the grapefruit was exceptional, perhaps the best I have ever had. Or, maybe it just seems that way because of my context and extensive deprivation. Still, it was delectable.

Cleaning: The bathroom in my flat had progressed from the "disgusting and in disrepair" category to the "stifling putrescence" stage. This isn't to say that efforts hadn't been made to make it better, but thusfar, my efforts had been largely unsuccessful, and almost entirely disheartening. So, in addition to my food shopping, I stocked up on cleaning ammunition. No-nonsense sponge, 2 metal scouring pads, and a 30 oz. bottle of industrial strength cleaner (clearly marked with warnings, likely illegal in the U.S.). This was war. For 2 hours, the battle was waged, hands burning from chemicals, metal shavings working their way through the epidermis, porcelain spitting forth the most unsavory of insults. When I had finally put up the white flag, downtrodden and humbled, a rinsing revealed my foe to have retreated in a fog of orange and brown. Behold, before my eyes, a tub of white stood, a welcome ally. Casualties would not be suffered on this day, and my injuries would heal with time. Below are the results.


















Guests: As I was finishing up my cleaning, I got a knock on my door. Outside were 2 unfamiliar faces, a young man from Switzerland and a young woman from the U.S. Couldn't have been much older than me. They were on a pilgrimage to Jerusalem, the young man started in Switzerland and was joined by his companion in Istanbul, and had walked the entire distance to Salt. (Side note: The young woman had gone to Lancaster Mennonite High School, and when she found out I was working for MCC, it was a "wow moment".) I conversed with them for a time, offered to share some sweets, listened to their story, and just had a relaxing time talking with some really interesting people. I was fascinated by their commitment, they were intrigued by my work. And, they used my newly cleaned shower. The first people to do so, and I felt honored.

Thanksgiving was great. It wasn't about having family to share it with, or turkey, or recognizing what I have been blessed with (still worth doing everyday, not just one day a year), or pie, or even familiarity. It was focused on where I am, whoever happens to be here with me, and the incredible service opportunity that I have been given. There is thankfulness in being blessed by the things that you missed, without feeling like you really missed out. I am here, you are there, and as long as we're doing what we're supposed to, nobody has to miss anything. Keep doing what you're doing, and glorify the God through whom you do it. I'll try to do the same. Peace.

Visit From the King

To begin, you may view the two-week aftermath of the bite of Haazim.


In all his splendor, King Abdullah II made his way to the Holy Land Institute this past week. It was quite a spectacle. I wasn't completely excited, but the overflowing enthusiasm from the students did spill over a bit.

I won't go into detail of his caravan of SUV's, or of the extensive personnel that were sent to the school for security purposes. He came quickly, and he left quickly, and we were thankful that he made the time to do so.

It was, however, quite fun to see the excitement of the students as they waited for his arrival. It was even more fun to take pictures of the king as he shook the hands of staff and children alike. And it was the best when he gave a traditional Arabic greeting to Mohammed, which I actually got a picture of.

Really, though, I was reminded that I am more fond of my deaf-blind children than I am of any celebrity. The blessing of smile from them far outweighs the "honor" of shaking the hand of a king. And I am honored to work with these children. Still, I will give you a picture of the king, as well as a picture of me with one of my favorite students. But, teachers don't have favorites, and all my students are my favorite, but she is just my utmost favorite. Peace.

Three Months

Tomorrow I will hit the three-month mark, a milestone that will continually expand the record for most time consecutively spent away from Kansas. This are still going eerily well, and I will not seek out any opportunities to ruin that.

In the past few weeks, I have had some exciting moments. One of my students bit my hand, leaving what will hopefully become a delightful scar (an unplanned memento, but still one I will relish once the healing process is completed). A pitiful attempt at navigating Amman by foot, in which I walked for over an hour away from my intended destination. A pancake brunch with some of the other volunteers. Two straight days of rain, in amounts greater than what most residents can recall having consecutively. Weather becoming hot, then cold, then perfect (as in sunny, mild, and comfortable). Seeing Muhammed become ecstatic at the appearance of the mysterious water that issues forth from the sky. Things are good.

In a recent meeting with the MCC reps in Amman, I had a chance to actually evaluate how things are going. This is something that I do daily, but it isn't often that I express my perspective with more than a few signs, or some simplified English. Yet, the chance to do so made me realize that even the things I classify as challenges are some of the things I enjoy the most. When forced to analyze and characterize my experience, it seems that only good things come to mind. It is slightly taxing to have to produce a list of negatives.

While this is more than premature, this experience has unexpectedly illicited a bit of indulgent entertaining of ideas relating to continued work in Jordan. I wouldn't say that I am seriously considering extending my term with MCC, and as of now the possibility of simply finishing my SALT term and returning to the U.S. would be far more likely. Still, it is notable that I am considering a possibility of considering the opportunity to stay. But, considering beginning a consideration is far detached from having dipped into the consideration itself, so don't jump to conclusions.

I suppose that the message that I hope to convey is simply this: I enjoy my life. I wouldn't say I am adequately adapted to this culture, or qualified for my job, or even settled in. It doesn't prevent me from loving the work I do, nor does it so engulf my being that I forget about the people I love back in the U.S. And while my existence seems so far removed from your daily life, I assure you that a connection is maintained. You are in my thoughts and prayers, not forgotten. We are separate, but not apart. And in that sense, a part of this experience is yours as well. It has been enjoyable so far, and I hope you feel a bit of that, if only through me. Peace.