525, 600 minutes...

As the song from Broadway's "Rent" asks, "How DO you measure a year?" I've been asking myself that question as I'm commemorating my 1 year marker since I returned from my overseas life, which seems just as though it was yesterday and a dream all at the same time.

When I returned to the States, I was angry, frustrated, and confused, and full of reverse culture shock. I had little direction and many questions. I was living with a heart on one side of the world with a body on the other. Honestly, it took all year for God to do the things that needed to be done with me. Time to reconnect with family and friends. Time to make important decisions about my future. Time to rest. Time to work hard and learn. Time to refocus. Time to share my experiences with others. I had the opportunity to share approx 18 times and in 3 different states! What an amazing blessing.

I continue to miss Armenia. It really is like I left a piece of my heart and part of my family there. I often dream about friends there, and it's so real that I've woken up in tears. I try to keep in touch with friends so I can keep my language. It's a discipline that I want to continue. I continue to pray that I will have an opportunity to visit soon. I frequently bring up my memories and experiences from Armenia, and I often hope I am not boring people.

I feel like reverse culture shock has lifted, but I remain changed in so many small and big ways. I honestly can't believe this year has come and gone. It felt "just like yesterday" that I was saying goodbyes to friends over there. Now, I'm saying goodbye all over again in preparation for my move to California to study.

All in all, I'm grateful for this year of funky in-between-ness that has taught me so much about who I am and where I'm going. I still don't have all the answers, but I've processed and reflected enough to see God's faithful hand guiding me each step of the way. Just like the headlights on a car, God's light shines on the path just before us. I need to not "overdrive" my headlights and trust him for the next bend in the road. Each stepping stone of faith proves HIS faithfulness, not my own, which gives me strength for the next phase of life.

I've been back a year, and I can't believe it. I'm ready now to move onto what God has prepared for me in advance to do! Moving forward boldly...

Five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes, Five hundred twenty-five thousand Moments so dear. Five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes How do you measure, measure a year? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights In cups of coffee In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. In five hundred twenty-five thousand Six hundred minutes How do you measure A year in the life?

Window of Opportunity Part 3

Armenia 2010, Two mornings after we were broken into.


I woke up on my supervisors' couch and pondered where I was going to live next. My roommate was a teacher, so she was up and around before me. At this point, we had only brought our "valuables" with us and had not moved out of the apartment yet. She needed something from the apartment that morning, so she decided to walk across the street and get it.

I was getting ready in the bathroom when I heard my supervisors speaking with her on the phone trying to calm her down. She came right back over and debriefed us. Apparently our lovely robber had come back for round two! Back up the balcony and through the kitchen window. This time, he didn't find any cash, so he just pillaged everything. Cabinets and drawers open. Things on the floor. My clothes were taken out of my closet and my bedding all over the place. My *favorite* part was finding RICE all over my bedroom floor. Why rice??? Well, I had made a heating pad by putting rice in a big sock and heating it in the microwave. Mr. Robber decided it would be nice to open 'er up and let the rice loose. What a fun guy.

It looked like he had been in there for a while.

Violated not only once, but twice. I'm SO thankful that we had not stayed there again. We had some more conversations with the oh so fun detective and then tried to move on. We found another apartment in our supervisors' building, which was safer.

A few months ago, they actually found the robber and put him in the slammer.

Fear and anger were the two predominant emotions I felt after it happened. God had to replace those with trust and forgiveness. The window of opportunity for the burglar became an opportunity for me to lean on God and rest in his faithfulness. I know the reason I woke up that night praying for some man.....it's because He wanted to be with me in my moment of need.

What current tragedy is actually a window of opportunity in your life?

Window of Opportunity: Part 2

We looked at each other in shock and confusion. Mary went to her purse and her cash was also missing. Sadly, she had just visited the ATM the day before. The only thing left to do was call our supervisors who lived in the next apartment building over. They of course came right away and called my landlord to come also.

When my landlord arrived, he began to tell me that I should have locked the window, even though I had repeatedly told him that it was locked when we went to bed. He began to question and lecture me so rudely. I finally couldn't take it and told him that I would not speak with him about it again. In the moment that I needed comfort and compassion, he gave me advice. It took me a long time to forgive him for that. His response was so rude that we speculated that he had somehow been in on it.

At this point, we decided to call the police.

It's a strange thing to see police in your home. Not knowing what to do, but trying to be a good "Armenian" woman, I made them coffee and provided an ash tray. They asked a lot of questions, searched the house looking for clues, and dusted for prints.

It appeared that the robber climbed up a pole and onto our balcony which faced the street. He then stood on a plastic patio chair and popped open our European style window which opened into our kitchen. On his way up the balcony he stepped on our flower boxes which were lying on the ground below, broken. Dirt lined the sidewalk.

That's right, he climbed through our kitchen window while we were sleeping and stole all of our money!

--------------------------

The rest of the day was just as tiring as the beginning. My friends and partners were shocked. They were very angry that something like that had happened to us. Their love and support really meant the world to me. Also, my supervisor's parents happened to be there for a visit, and their ability to help me process my emotions was invaluable. Not even that, but our "Cluster" leader was also there for a conference, so he went ahead and sent the ok to provide extra money to budget us a different and safer apartment.

We were in the middle of a women's conference, so the day was spent trying to help out as much as I could, but not really being able to focus. Even my English class went awry. My "crazy lady" student was incredibly rude AND crazy and I finally broke down and told my students about my day. They were so apologetic.

The day was still not over. I had to go to the police station now. A good friend and professional translator went with us to be sure everything was understood legally. I remember learning the word "victim" that day. After I learned it, I kept on using it as I told the detective, "I AM THE VICTIM, stop questioning me like I have done something wrong!" His questions also became annoying and pointless. He kept us in his smoke filled office at the station for so long (as he handwrote all the notes) that he offered us some kebab which was sitting on the table. For all those times people told me to be more assertive, well, it came out just fine there!

After he finally "released" us to go (because I STRONGLY told him to do so), we were ready to collapse.

The next day we tried to get back to normal, and it was a nice day.
However, it didn't last long....

The morning after that we were greeted by yet another shock.

Window of Opportunity

AArmenia
May 2010

I woke up in the middle of the night, eyes wide open. I immediately thought of the American man who was on his way to the country and having problems with flights. I felt very strongly that I should pray for him. I finally fell back asleep.

At morning, I woke up a little earlier than usual. I noticed the sunlight and the sound of chirping birds coming from the kitchen window. I groggily moved about the kitchen making my oatmeal.

All at once, everything seemed wrong. Everything was wrong. My Bible which sat on the kitchen window was lying upside down on the floor. The window was open, and the chirping birds didn't seem pleasant anymore.

My purse was open, my wallet out. My cash was gone.

As I walked down the hallway to decide whether I should wake my roommate or not, came out of her room. I frantically told her that I thought we'd been robbed.

Little Armenia

A few weeks ago, I got a text message from my former supervisors telling me when they would be visiting California and asking if I could make it out also. Immediately, my heart sank down into my stomach at the thought of not being able to go. I mean, I have a new job and plane tickets are not cheap. After days of prayer, looking at tickets online, and asking off work, I was on my way to California. I had no idea what to expect....


Immediately I was drawn back into familiar sounds of the Armenian language, food, and culture....but I was in Pasadena, California. It took a while just to come to grips with where I was geographically. Is this really the best of both worlds? A woman I barely knew hosted me in her home and I quickly grew to love her and her family in a deep way. It was like saying goodbye to old friends when I left only a few days later.

Everyday we watched in wonder as God put puzzle pieces together. The word is getting out about the true condition of Armenia. I watched as the "right" people met, talked, and got excited about partnering together for the sake of the Good News. I watched as young and old were convicted of their inaction. We were like monkeys at the zoo as they asked us to say a word or two in their own language. (Oooh, aaahs, and clapping followed.) It was an overwhelming blessing to just be there and experience what God is doing among the Armenian people.

I made dear friends, spoke about something I love, had fun, laughed a ton, was humbled by God's work.....
And now what?
What do I do with this experience?
Where/How do I fit into this?

I am asking hard questions and praying for God's light to shine where I should walk.
One step at a time....

Rewind Part 2....

My return to the States was well documented by my dad...

Lots of people came to see me! Thanks for coming, everyone!

Sadly, I got stuck in Chicago. Some people had to leave and others took a nap.


Goodbyes are hard, but reunions are sweet.




Reverse culture shock already???

Doesn't seem like I've already been back a week! Must have something to do with Armenia being 10 hours ahead....

Rewind....

Just wanted to share this fuzzy picture of my GREAT friends who sent me off at the airport in Yerevan!


I was so thankful today to get a phone call from a dear friend in Armenia. I had really missed speaking Armenian and definitely missed her. My family just stared at me as I talked away in a "foreign" language! I also decided this morning that I would start trying to read a portion of scripture every day in Armenian to keep up my language. I've always been a slow Armenian reader, so this will really help me. Why am I doing this "language study" now??? I don't want to lose it and well, it just makes me happy!

Roll out the red carpet...

Well, after way too much frustration in Chicago, I finally made it to Tulsa at 11:00pm on August 2. I had quite the extravagant welcome as my family was waiting with balloons, signs, brownies, flowers, horns, and lots of hugs and smiles!

I think at that point I was so tired, it was kinda a blur, but I definitely felt very welcomed by all who came! (Sadly, the group was much larger at 5pm when my plane was supposed to get there!)

I'm still not sure how I feel about being back, but it does feel good to be with loved ones.

In transit...

I didn't sleep at all last night. I went out to dinner one last time with my dear friends. Arax came and stayed with me and kept me awake by reminiscing with me over the past 2 years. She and some other friends accompanied me to the airport. At that point I couldn't even cry any more.

I'm soooooo blessed to have all the people in my life that I do. American or Armenian---you are very dear to me.

Ok.....I've gotta stay awake and make it through these last 2 legs.
Frankfurt to Chicaco
Chicago to Tulsa.

Goodbye Hayastan...

I just looked out the window to see Mt Ararat. I will miss that in my daily view.

Last night was tough. It was my last Saturday night service with all the young people. I think I was tearing up even before the service started. It really struck me how much I will miss the music...the lyrics, the rhythms, and the instruments. I gave some parting words which were filled with tears and sniffs. Lots of friends were by my side all evening. We went out to one of my favorite places to eat: Eastern Cuisine Restaurant and enjoyed some great hummus.

I arrived here on a Sunday and today, Sunday, will be my last day. I'm glad I get to spend my last day with people I love so much.

Early early early tomorrow morning I will get on a plane back to my homeland but I will be leaving a piece of my heart here.

The Rollercoaster Keeps on Rolling.....

Whew!!!!!!!!

The past month...or perhaps 2 months have flown so quickly I'm not even sure what's happened. Here are a few highlights:

1. Got moved into the new apartment. Big and spacious and this one actually has couches!!

2. End of the Year/Goodbye English Party. We had such a great time taking pictures, eating ice cream sundaes, and sharing parting words. I received several special gifts including some old Soviet coins and paper money. I was thrilled and excited to bring some home to my dad. My students are great and I will miss them dearly!!!

3. Sports/ Women's Project. We had a large team (11 people) from Arkansas come and help us do sports and work with women. It was a huge success!! Many people heard the Story and responded. I ended up translating the Sunday sermon for those 11 jet lagged travelers. They said my body language kept getting more and more expressive as they creeped closer and closer to falling asleep.

4. I just got home last night from 10 days at camp. We had two sessions of camp and a total of 130 campers. It was long, hard, and tiring but we definitely came back with a couple of bus loads of fruit!!! Such a great harvest. Selfishly speaking, I was overjoyed to see some of my English students take huge steps of faith during camp. It's an amazing thing to watch that process!

5. Packing up all my belongings. That's my task for the day. I'm still trying to grasp the fact that I'm moving. I'm looking forward to the day that we'll be together forever....and there will be no pain, no tears, and no goodbyes. I'm constantly amazed that God chose me to be a part of His work.

The first of many goodbyes...

Yesterday was my last day of work in the village. It was such a bittersweet occasion. After two years of work, there is still so much lacking. Our time of meeting was special as I led out in the singing, but I was sad that so few came. I spent all day meeting new people and saying goodbye to dear friends. There were even two women who we prayed with!

We decided on the WAY to the village that we would spent the night.....SO, we did not come prepared with anything. It finally got late and we had such a hard time deciding whose house to stay at. We finally settled at a family's house that is so sweet. We ate together and then went outside to stargaze. I have never seen anything so beautiful in my life. The Big Dipper never looked so clear and well....big. It was such a beautiful gift on my last night in the village.
It didn't seem to matter much that I slept in my clothes with 2 friends....one of which liked to hug me and snore in my ear during the night!

As our van drove down the dirt roads toward to the city I couldn't help but get emotional. Who knows when and if I will ever see some of those friends again. I sure hope I do. Thankfully, I will see many of them in heaven. Only God knows what lies ahead.

This was the first of many goodbyes.

Dance Dance Revolution

First off, I want to say thank you to my parents for all the dance classes they paid for when I was growing up. I suppose it's paid off to an extent!

I got home late last night from one of my best friend's birthday party where we spent hours dancing. SO much fun. I'm not very good, but when my other friend (who is an Armenian style dance teacher) helps me, I'm at least not terrible! We had so much fun doing traditional dances (they said I've really turned Armenian) and doing a lot of silly dancing.

Birthdays here are such a special occasion. People are congratulating all day, there is always cake and ussually tasty khorovats (grilled meat), lots of toasting and well wishing, and then the dancing!
For an outsider, it would probably be culture overload. It's one of the things I will miss the most.

I'm so thankful I got to spend Arax's birthday with her! She is my dear friend and my first real Armenian friend. As I was saying a toast, I got a lump in my throat and had to work to keep back the tears. We decided that there needs to be one more dance party before I leave. I think that's a good idea...

I'm still here!

I promise---I'm still alive!!

Life has been incredibly busy the past month and a half.
Here are some things I've been up to....

*Moved to a new apartment
* Had 3 volunteer teams with lots of work in the city and in villages
* Celebrated as many new people have come into the family
* Beginning to throw away, give away, and sort things as I'm preparing to come back to the States
* Checked many eyes and given away many glasses.
*Went to Ukraine for my organization's annual meeting. So good to see friends and make new ones.
* Stretched my language skills to the max and was amazed at God's grace in those situations
* Wrapping up English classes
* Currently preparing for another team and then for 10 days of camp
*Preparing to move yet again. Oh, such a long story. (This time it's only upstairs)

The time I have left here is so short and is filled with so many things to do. I'm having trouble keeping track of what I've done, what I have to do, and even what day it is! But, I wouldn't trade. I've seen so many miracles lately of the Father working. It feels like a fresh wave of movement. Let's see what next week holds.....

Team Retreat

You don't realize how much you love rocks and trees and mountains and streams until you are living in a concrete jungle. Last week, we had a team retreat at a beautiful place in the northern part of the country. Our colleagues from Georgia met us there and we really had a sweet time together.

The second day of our retreat we packed up and went to visit some ancient monasteries nestled in the mountains. The Sanahin and Haghpat monasteries were amazing. Green rolling hills, blue skies, and snow-capped mountains provided the scenery. We walked through the monastery complexes and remembered how old their faith is. Old, but dead.



During our time touring the area where we stayed, 4 things (or people), really stood out to us.

1. A woman we talked to said that coffee is her God and spoke of palm reading.

2. There was a family grave near the Sanahin monastery. We wondered and speculated about the condition of that family.

3. An old man sitting near the Haghpat monastery with crutches and coke-bottle glasses. We asked him if he believed in God and he said "it is all a lie."

4. A young woman with unkept hair was sweeping the road near our hotel. She said she's been angry with God since her sister died and apologized for not having much faith.


Our team retreat was such a great time to refocus and refresh. We spent hours together in the evening talking and crying as we opened our countries' maps. We decided that talking to the Father on behalf of our people has to be a priority.

So thankful for a refreshing time outside the city.

Landlords, paying bills, and the water mystery

Land lords and paying bills are both interesting things here.

All my landlord is really good for is signing a receipt every month when I pay him. The washer needs to be fixed (for the 4th time) and he's not very attentive in regards to getting someone decent here to fix it. And apparently when I moved in, he didn't tell the water meter reader.

Hold that thought and continue on with me.....

So, around the 10th of every month it's my duty to go down the street and pay bills at the post office. I pay for gas, electric, phone, and water. For the last 9 months or so I have not been able to pay for water. When I go to pay and tell them my number, they look at the computer and tell me there is nothing written for water. So, after a while I became a little worried and began to question the ladies who take my payment. They all just say "We don't know why, but nothing is written!"

Today when I got home from teaching English, the door was open and my roommate was talking to a random man in our kitchen. She quickly told me he was the meter reader! Meter reader man was looking furiously throughout our house for the meter. He could not find it. (I didn't even know the meter was in our house, let alone in our kitchen!)

Finally, I handed him my phone and told him to call my landlord. At last he found the meter behind a kitchen shelf, and I began to worry about how much we were going to have to pay. Meter reader guy was a little upset that we had not paid in so long, but I explained my ignorance to him (as if he didn't already know). He called my landlord again and they will come back tomorrow to work out some random form of discounted payment. Apparently, my landlord never informed him that the apartment was occupied. Meter reader guy said he came by once and knocked, but no one answered so he thought it was still unoccupied.

Welcome to the land of kitchen water meters, forgetful landlords, and the joy of paying bills in a foreign language!

There is no faith here...

One really cool thing about having teams from America is that we usually take them on at least 1 sightseeing excursion. Which means that if I am free, I can go too and experience more of the beauty and history of this land.

This time, we headed out on a double purpose trip. We drove 2 hours outside the city, going down in elevation and then back up again, through rain and fog. The landscape was amazing. We landed at the 13th Century monastery and church at Noravank. The monastery is nestled in red rock mountains with beautiful khachkhars (stone crosses) all around. I highly recommend reading a little about Noravank here.





After enjoying both the beauty of God's creation and man's creation, we headed down the hill for a traditional Armenian meal of fresh vegetables, bread, and grilled meat.


We didn't linger too long at lunch because we also wanted to visit a "new" village, one we had not worked in previously. It was our intention to just go and see how the Father is working. My group met two precious grandmas who both said they were sure they had seen us before. (I suspect it was in a dream). We gave them some gifts and enjoyed being with them for a short time.


Another group came back with a report from a very welcoming and open family. A woman in the house said this: "There is no faith in this village. Maybe there is faith in the city, but not here."

Only miles from an ancient monastery is a village with no hope and no faith. Creation cries out and history cries out, but "how beautiful are the feet that bring good news."

I will not deny...

Armenian history includes many devastating events, but the Armenian Genocide is by far the most heinous and gut-wrenching. Over 1.5 million Armenians died. Many were slaughtered and countless others forced to march in the deserts. So many of those who died could have lived if only they would have renounced Christianity. But, they did not. They refused to deny Christ, refused to deny their faith.

Every April 24, Armenians and those who feel their pain, take time to remember the genocide. It is tradition to march up the hill to the memorial and put flowers at the everlasting flame. Of course, I marched again this year alongside Armenian friends and American friends.





There is an Armenian spiritual song that I really love, which also reminds me of the Armenian heroes who died for the faith. The words are translated something like this:
I won't forget my faith
I won't deny my Lord
The cross on my shoulders,
I will go until I am with Jesus.

As we remember the genocide, let's also hope that faith will once again be vibrant here.

Was blind, but now I see....

I've been a little absent with the blogs lately, but I'm back!



A team from America was here last week, so there was no time for blogging! We spent all week in the villages doing eye screenings and distributing glasses. If you haven't caught on yet, I enjoy working in the villages so much. There were so many opportunities to give help and hope in each village we visited.

On the third day, it turned out that I was on the vision team and I ended up doing the screenings! I had about a 2 minute tutorial and then proceeded to check about 60-70 people's eyes without stopping. (I only stopped to blow my nose). I was a quick learner! Hopefully I didn't mess up too much!

It was such a blessing to offer some tangible help while also giving real Hope. You should have seen their faces when they were able to read again! I was blessed to work with a great volunteer team.

While it was a busy and fruitful week, I also spent the week dealing with laryngitis. (Which gets REALLY interesting when you have my job--based almost entirely on talking!) It's been raining non stop here and everything is blooming, so I'm sure at least part of it is due to allergies. Anyway, I'm glad to have a voice again, and especially one that sounds female.

A not so subtle reminder....

You're walking along, perhaps on the way to the market and then you see it. A group of men standing together and quietly talking outside an apartment building. As you come closer, your suspicions are proved right. Leaning against the entrance to the building is the lid of a coffin. It's a signal to mourners that they've found the correct building and it's a reminder to the rest of us that death is not far away. And as for me, it's a reminder that time is of the essence in my work. It especially hits close to home when I see that scene near where I work, like I saw a couple times this week.



Most of the time the deceased person is old and they've lived their life. Yes, they've lived through Communism, disaster, freezing temperatures without heat, pain, and sickness, and perhaps hunger. They've lived through the age of "there is no God" and through the years of religious rituals.

Although saddening, the coffin lid pricks my heart and keeps me focused on the task: Give hope to the hopeless.