No Camo Pants

I'm not entirely sure what brought this up in my mind recently, but I was thinking about some of the rules and boundaries I had growing up.  As a young kid, it seemed like we had a lot of things that were off-limits, but as I was thinking about pre-teen and teen years, there weren't actually a whole lot of things that were clearly defined limits.  Now, a lot of that is likely related to the fact that I was a pretty hyper-self-monitoring, goody-two-shoes kind of a kid.  I can distinctly remember coming to my parents various times, proposing stricter rules/expectations for myself than they had laid out, much to the horror of my younger brother who usually then inherited those!

There were several things I can remember that had been set that were going to be rules that never really came into play.  I was not going to be allowed to get my ears pierced until 16, I think.  I never asked to get them pierced.  (Now, that one, to be fair, was an issue of vanity because I hated my ears and not some act of piety in any way!)  I was not supposed to be allowed to wear makeup until I was 13 (or 16, can't remember).  Pretty sure when my dad saw my attempts before that limit, he figured I was safer going out looking like that and figured it would likely be boy repellent!  I never had a curfew, and I can very distinctly coming home "too late" one time.  I knew it as I was heading home.  There wasn't a defined time, but it just seemed like I was out later than I "should have" been.  I think the fact that I was super stressed over breaking a non-existent boundary kept me from having one imposed, and I don't remember ever pushing that limit again.

There is one sort of random thing, though, that came to my mind where a line was drawn in the sand, so to speak, and given the overall context, it might seem a little strange.  I very distinctly remember having a conversation with my Dad and it being very clear that I would NOT be wearing camo pants around my grandparents (his parents).  I'm not sure if I even would have or if I was even asking to, but I remember thinking it was something that was off-limits.  Obviously, that bears some explanation.  I grew up in a conservative Mennonite family, and one of the values of that upbringing was pacifism.  My grandparents and parents were all registered C.O. status (conscientious objectors), which meant that they would not be part of a military draft, due to these beliefs.  My grandfather served in voluntary service instead of drafted military service during the war, and it was a core part of their identity and beliefs.

The funny thing is that I am pretty sure I still was a pacifist myself, though I have gone through several phases of internal conflict over the issue...and still do.  I would probably call myself a "conflicted pacifist" or something these days.  There was a phase that I would still have basically held the ideals of pacifism but was strangely drawn to revolutionary idealists that seemed so radical (albeit misguided), such as Che Guevara and the likes!  Thus, the camo pants, I guess.  I don't even remember if I actually owned any.

Anyway, the line...somehow I knew at the time that is wasn't a battle over control of what I was allowed to wear.  It wasn't even about expecting that pacifism to be held as a core value.  What came to my mind as I was thinking about it recently, that I think I understood at the time even, was that it was about honoring my grandparents.  It was important to them and was a decision of respect for who they were, and there was a very clear expectation that we would honor them.  I'm quite sure it would never have been spoken in disapproval (few things ever were) from them, but it wasn't even about whether they would approve or not.  It was a decision to honor.  And, I realized that I sincerely hope that is a value we will pass on to our boys.  We are not as strict with the way the boys address people or what they wear or some other things as the norm in the community where I grew up.  But, I hope that my boys will respect and honor those who have gone before them.  Whether they follow or adhere to all of the things their parents or grandparents or aunts and uncles or whatever other elders are a part of their lives or not, I hope that they will be boys and eventually men who respect and honor those who have poured themselves out for them in more ways than they will likely ever know.  I am not a fan of arbitrary, outdated rules just because it is what has been done.  But, I hope that we will help them to see ways to communicate honor, even in things that may seem small.  Not sure what our "camo pants" are, but I hope we'll find them and draw those lines for our boys.

A Childlike Heart

This morning as I was waiting for a skype call, I was scrolling through my facebook feed, and the boys noticed a picture a friend had shared as a link to bring awareness about and advocacy to the tragic kidnapping of the girls in Nigeria.  Isaiah asked me who it was and why she was crying.  I proceeded to try to give a simplified version of the events.  Isaiah, in particular, is quite sensitive to things that might seem scary, so I am cautious with the details and stories we share with him, but I also want my boys to know that there are terrible injustices in this world, and I want them to care about those things from a young age.  So, I tried to keep it pretty basic but being honest that there were over 200 girls that had been stolen and were being sold or used for bad things or forced to do things they don't want to do.
The reaction from my boys was both encouraging and convicting.  Isaiah right away jumped to, "That's terrible.  We have to get them back," to which Ezekiel chimed in that we "will go on a big airplane and go to Africa and get the girls."

Isaiah was not fearful, as I thought he might be but his little mind started spinning with plans to get the girls back.  At one point he got a bit concerned, asking me if the bad guys have guns.  When I told him that it seems that they do, he was a little worried.  "Then how will we be able to stop them?"  John and I tried to talk with the boys to make it clear that we weren't going to be going ourselves and that we don't have the skills to stop this directly but that we need to pray and try to let people and governments know that this is a big deal and put pressure on them to help.  Frequently, the thoughts kept coming back to making plans on how this can be stopped.  John tried to tell Isaiah that some people are not able to be talked to and reasoned with, and Isaiah immediately jumped over to our new house guidelines poster we had put up yesterday and said, "Well, maybe we need to tell them things like this...like 'Love God,' 'Love each other,' and other things like about God."
At one point, he did envision a plan that was that, if the Teen Titans were real, they would be able to defeat the bad guys and get the girls back. :)

The first thing he told his friend when we saw him at lunch was about the girls and needing to get them back.

There is obvious wisdom lacking in the plans that form in my little guys' minds, and I know that situations like this are very complex in many ways.  Yet, I wonder how the world would look different if more of us had a reaction like theirs.  My adult, "sensible" reactions are to think how terrible it is and to feel sad at such a tragedy and to share links on facebook to bring awareness.  But, what if, instead of my action amounting to clicking a button on a computer...not that it doesn't have value, but just what if...my heart jumped "all in" at the news of injustice and was ready to hop on a plane to go and get those girls back?!  What if I somehow was captured by how I, how we, were going to stop this...now?!  May God keep the hearts of my boys just a bit less "sensible" and keep them ready to fight for these girls and against the many other injustices that they will encounter.  And may He make me a little bit more like my big-hearted, courageous boys!

Where is my autopilot switch?

It is coming up on the two-year mark since we moved overseas.  It isn't really news to anyone that adjusting to a new place and a new culture comes with some challenges, and there are many aspects of life here that make life a little harder.

Last week we hit a day where we were out of power for 24 hours due to a storm, and it had only been on an hour before that from our regularly scheduled power outages (which are at 12 hours per day off right now).  When the power came back on, my oldest son made a comment something to the effect, "What if the power was on ALL the time?"  Well, son, that would be what you call "normal" life for most Westerners. 

The thing is that I have come to the place where I feel quite comfortable here and on most days am not really conscious of it feeling hard anymore.  I am truly happy here and surrounded by so many amazing things and people that we would not have in our life if we didn't live here.  We can see the Himalayan Mountains from our roof for a good portion of the year, for goodness sake!  We have a wonderful home and are surrounded by incredible people, many of whom help us tremendously with any challenges that do arise with life here.  And, there are many things about life in America that would be really hard for me if we went back--the materialism and frenzied pace of life, for example.  

But, as I've been thinking and talking about with some friends recently, there is one dynamic that does take a toll, and I've found it hard to describe, but basically, it is just never being on "autopilot."  You know that mode where you just stroll down the street or drive your regular route in your car or go about the routines of your day without really thinking about them?  There is certainly something to be said for being more "tuned in" a lot of the time as we can sometimes miss much of life in the moment if we're just going through the motions.  But, I'm talking about just having the ease of rolling through some things in the day without everything requiring heightened attention and energy.  

I was comparing it to when I used to do parent conferences in Spanish as a teacher.  I got to the point where I was pretty decent with my Spanish, but having focused conversations for a couple of hours in a language that I had to constantly be thinking about and not just naturally rolling with was exhausting, and I would usually go home feeling like I had just run a mental marathon.

Maybe that "auto pilot" mode will develop over enough time of being here, but for now, I'll just accept a little extra energy drain that it takes to be "on" constantly and keep searching for that magic little switch.

Stuck in My Own Head

Being an internal processor presents some challenges for blogging.  I love writing, and I find myself thinking through floods of posts and constructing them in my mind.  One challenge, though, is that once I don't think while I write; I think and then I write, which makes it feel like an extra step that I often don't take the time and energy to do.  Along with that comes my tendency to over-edit.  If I can't quite think of the exact way I want to express something, I'll avoid ever writing the post.  And, if I do write the post, I tend to read and analyze and edit a bunch, making it an even longer process.
So...you can see why I experience some gaps at times in keeping up with blogging, even though I do enjoy it.
Sometimes I go through stretches of overcoming these challenges better than others.  I convince myself to let go of some of the editing, just write, and hit publish before I can over-analyze it.  Sometimes, I get a little stuck in my own head.
Well, here is to another effort to get out of my head and enjoy the writing!  Jumping back in...

Crazy Thankful

I have fallen WAY behind on blogging lately!  I have been intending to write a post about hard goodbyes and the frequency of those here, but I just felt struck with an abundance of reasons to be crazy grateful tonight, so I am going to jot down some of that instead.

*  It is the Christmas season!  (Decided to do a whole separate post on it, I love it so much!)
Most of all, I am really thankful for grace this Christmas.  I am a person who always has a million more things on my to-do list and expectations in my mind than are humanly possible.  Yet, somehow, I feel incredibly pressured to cram in everything to make things (especially at a beloved season) PERFECT!  I am thankful for reminders again this Christmas that, not only is perfection not possible, Jesus came down to earth to save me from my striving and performing and failed attempts to make things perfect, and I am loved and covered in His amazing grace!
Through beautiful reminders in The Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp (a sweet gift from my mama) and bloggers I love like Carissa over at 1+1+1=1 in her post "Choose Attitude over Activities," I have been reminded that the experience of this season for my family (and others around me) is more about WHO I am and how I encounter Jesus in this time than whether or not I pull off all the crazy crafts and projects and whatever else!

*  Muna Tamang is in my home again!
Having house help was a huge adjustment for me when we moved overseas!  It is quite common here, and if people have any means to do so, it would actually seem a little odd culturally not to have someone working in the home to help.  All of the basics of cooking and cleaning and keeping our home take more time here, so I have gotten to the point that I (mostly) stop apologizing mentally whenever I communicate about our house help to other Americans.  Our friends had a woman working for them when we came and lived with them for several months a few years ago (before moving here), and I just loved her.  Through a long set of circumstances (some less than pleasant), she is now working for us in our home, and I cannot even begin to describe what an incredible blessing it is!  She is absolutely wonderful!  I fancy myself a person who can get a fair amount done in a day, but she blows me away!  And, more importantly, she is just so sweet and an absolute joy to be in our home!  My kids adore her, and I just can't help but think of a million reasons that I am thankful to have her working in our home again!

*  I have things that keep me warm.
It is cold here.  I have friends and family who live in places that are actually much colder, but they all have central heating!  The houses here are made of cement and marble and stay quite cold, even when the outside temperature warms up to be quite pleasant during the day.  Combined with windows that don't quite fit right, let's just say that I usually have to put things IN my fridge to defrost at night because left out on the counter, they stay frozen!  However, we have a big gas space heater and lots of warm blankets and fleece sheets sent by loving family members and jackets and sweaters and just so many things to help us stay warm, and it is definitely not to be taken for granted here, as that is not the norm of what people have available here!  So crazy blessed!

*  My garbage is getting collected regularly!  Not a given but seems a new pattern of late and really thankful for it!

*  My parents visited us!  Here!  In Nepal!!!
Part of the reason for being behind in blogging is that I was completely wrapped up in the joy of my parents' first visit here in Nepal!  They flew all the way around the world to be with us, and it was such a great joy and blessing to have them here!  We are always glad to spend time with them, but it meant so much to have them here, seeing our home and life here and sharing time with us for a few weeks.  We got to do some really fun things, including a trip to Chitwan, which was beautiful, but it was also great to have them just do some of our "ordinary" things with us.  So thankful they were able and willing to come and for the memories of time shared here with them!  And, we are still enjoying tons of treats they brought for us--new clothes, cheese, candy, toys, books, and goodies!  Not only nice to enjoy the treats, but is a good reminder of them and their time here every time we use one of the treats!

*  I am surrounded by really incredible people!
I am constantly struck by all the really amazing people that we work with and have in our lives here.
I have a wonderful husband and two really cool sons.
Even friends and family who are far from us continue to bless and surround us with encouragement and prayers.
Really, really blessed!

*  Gingerbread and a hot cup of tea
It may not rank up there in significance with many of the things on this list, and I wouldn't have even considered myself a huge fan of gingerbread, but it was yesterday as I sat, truly delighting in a homemade gingerbread cookie and sipping my tea that I was just struck by how crazy thankful I am for even all these little things that fill my life and how many huge things I am thankful for as well!

The Chocolate "Dilemma"

I have known for awhile that there are issues with the chocolate industry.  I've seen things go by in friends' posts or heard little snippets, but I never checked into that much.  Perhaps it seemed like one more thing to worry about.  Perhaps I just got busy and distracted.  Probably, at some level, I didn't really want to know more or think too deeply about it.

I like chocolate.  I mean, I don't know a lot of people who don't like chocolate.  It's so good.  Especially, a good dark chocolate or some yummy baked treat with chocolate in it!  So.  Good!

Living away from my "home" culture has sort of intensified my chocolate cravings as well.  When other things are unfamiliar, it is a comfort food and a treat that is available when not all of the usual comforts (or comfort foods) are.  And, seriously, there is something about dal bhat (the lentil and rice everyday meal), as much as I do like it, that just feels like it needs to be chased with a little chocolate.
So, the thought of giving up chocolate feels like a big deal.  As I've processed some of these things recently, it actually seems sort of ridiculous to admit how big of a deal it seemed.

But, a few weeks ago, my friend posted a link about the labor issues involved with chocolate.  It wasn't the first, but I took the time to read it and really absorb it.  The article was highlighting the issue for the sake of considering what you are buying for Halloween candy.  We don't do Halloween, but I decided to read the whole article anyway because it was really just drawing attention to the bigger issues involved.

I won't attempt to restate what she and others have already done.  I am just beginning to dig into this more myself.  Her post at SimpleMom.net and the documentary she links to in the post, The Dark Side of Chocolate, are good sources for some information on the issue.  The key thing is that child labor, child slavery, and child trafficking are BIG issues in the cocoa industry in Africa where a big percentage of all cocoa for the world's chocolate is produced.

This issue has stayed with me, mulling over and over in my mind and heart.  It's about more than the chocolate.

My first thoughts honestly turned to what my options would be for chocolate if I make the choice to not purchase from companies taking part in child slavery and unethical, unjust labor practices.  For us here overseas, it isn't just a matter of spending a bit more money to buy from companies that are committed to ethical sourcing in the cocoa purchasing and production.  So, largely, it would mean giving up these items.  There are some possibilities that some shop owners might be willing to order items for us if they know we and other foreigners would buy them, but chocolate is already the same price or more as it is in the States when we are making notably lower salaries...and are still making more than the vast majority of the population here.  Chocolate is already a splurge, an indulgence here for most people.  I'm not sure if it would be realistic for friends here to purchase items that will be quite expensive if we could actually get them imported.
Now, a quick aside is that I am still crazy lucky and certainly far from deprived, as it only takes a mention of something we are missing or would love to have before my parents or a friend graciously tuck some in a package to send to us!

The really humbling thing is that I realized, as I was initially struck by the justice issues at the heart of this, my thoughts so quickly became wrapped up in how this would affect me and where I would get my chocolate and my "dilemma" of making "sacrifices" when we are already often out of our comfort zone.  Is it really a dilemma to figure out which kind of chocolate we could acquire or whether we'd have to cut back or maybe even *gasp* do without indulgent treats when young boys are stolen from their families and kept as slaves so that I can have my cocoa?

This is about more than the chocolate.

Do I really think that by deciding not to purchase chocolate from these companies that it will affect REAL change?  Honestly, no.  I am one consumer in a market that probably barely makes a dent in what these companies are selling.  Even if I rallied as many friends as I could think of to avoid purchasing from these companies here, I seriously doubt that a small dip in the Nepal chocolate purchases would even register on the radar for chocolate executives.  Even if friends elsewhere band together in mass, would it make an impact?  Perhaps.  But, the issue isn't just the chocolate companies themselves.  Poverty is bigger than just money, though most perceive money will fix it.  So long as people are willing to sell fellow human beings, injustice will exist.  Could there ever possibly be an amount of money that would "fix" that problem?

I respect companies that are trying to do business differently, and I applaud and would love to support their efforts.  The truth is that it is hard to do business with integrity, to commit not to sacrifice justice for the sake of profits.  And, I want to support businesses that seek to make a real impact by walking the harder road, by sacrificing the easy or maybe more profitable path.  But, I still don't have any illusions that just choosing to buy from these companies will fix the problem.

I truly believe that nothing short of the kingdom of God breaking through to change and redeem hearts and lives will cause real change and freedom from injustices.  For the shackles of poverty to be broken, lives and cultures and hearts (not just the ones where the poverty exists, by the way) need to be truly changed and transformed.  Choices are made about what is most valuable or for what things we are willing to make sacrifices.  And, for me, that is what this choice is about.

It is about more than the chocolate.

Whether or not my choice to not buy this chocolate makes any direct impact on these companies or the cocoa industry, as I have mulled over this, it comes down to a heart issue for me and for my household.  Choosing not to buy a Snickers bar or a pack of Gems won't change the chocolate industry, but it shapes who I am, who we are as a family.  It's about how I make choices.  It's about what I am willing to prioritize, even if it costs me something.  Will I, will we as a family, make our choices based on what is convenient and comfortable and focus on what I want or desire?  Or will I choose to fix my heart on justice, on mercy, on humility (Micah 6:8)?  Am I willing to make hard choices, whether or not I can see their impact, just because they reflect the values that I believe are true and right?  Am I willing to try to raise my children to believe that another child's freedom is a bigger issue than skipping some sweets?

I'm sure there are many, many more issues that could and should shape my consumer choices.  For now, this is the one that has grabbed my heart and represents a step for me in the choices I make--a test case, if you will, that God has been using to reignite my passion for issues of justice.  I pray my eyes and heart will be open to see what should be truly shaping even my seemingly small or tedious everyday choices.

I'm embarrassed to admit how much of a dilemma the chocolate became in my mind, but really, as I've said, it is about more than the chocolate.  It's about what guides my life and choices and the state of my heart, and it's about how I try to help shape the attitudes and choices of my children.  And, I believe with all my heart, that THAT can make a change in my small corner of the world and be an agent for God's kingdom to break through the injustices of this world.

The Walnut Incident

There is an older man who is the groundskeeper at our office building location.  He lives on site and cares for the garden there and the grounds.  I am trying to get the boys involved in helping with the plants and taking care of our outdoor space, but the reality is that, even with their enthusiasm, sometimes the work takes a bit more time WITH them.  We needed a bit of help, and this older gentleman doesn't have a full schedule with his work at the office, so he has been coming once a week (though it is a little unclear what his schedule is, and he has seemed to appear at unexpected times as well).  

Between the times we go to the office, the times he is here helping us or another family in our colony, or the times that we just end up seeing him when we are out walking on the road, he is a person we see every day, usually multiple times.  Our interactions with him have been fairly limited, though.  He always tries to interact a bit with the boys.  They know who he is, but they haven't seemed to warm up to him terribly easily.  They aren't rude, and they will even point him out when they see him walking, but I think we all are a bit unsure of quite how to interact with him.  He doesn't speak any English, and he rather mumbles in a gravelly voice when he is speaking, so it is hard to understand him, even when he is saying something I probably should know in Nepali.

Last week when he was here working on the yard, and we had been outside doing something, he pulled a walnut out of Isaiah's nature "collection" box and held it up and said, "Babu..." (something that basically meant you can crack this open and eat it).  I told Isaiah what he was trying to say, and Isaiah got really excited and wanted to crack it open right away, mostly to see the inside, I think.  I went in to search for something, and I tried the opposite end of our can opener, but it was not nearly strong enough.  Isaiah took the nut back outside and was not about to yield the quest to crack the nut.  By the time I got back outside, this man was using one of Isaiah's bigger rocks from the box to smash open the walnut.  Isaiah was practically squealing.  He was so excited, and he was SO impressed that this man was using rocks to crack open the walnut.  And that it worked!  Because of using the rock, the nut inside obviously also got smashed, so the man scooped up little pieces and gave them to Isaiah.  He told Isaiah to eat them.  Isaiah looked at me, and I quickly settled my inner argument and tried to just smile and give a little nod to Isaiah that he could eat them.  

Why the inner argument?  Let me describe a few more of the details here.  The man had been working in our yard and around the outside of the house and had quite dirty hands.  The rock (and the walnut itself) had been outside there for quite awhile.  As I watched the dirty hands use the dirty rock to smash up the walnut on our dirty (think pigeon poo and various other ick) little patch of cement there and then scoop it up with the dirty hands and hand it to Isaiah, there was a part of me that could honestly only think of the very probable intestinal repercussions of consuming the walnut.  Even just the "dirt" here has so many pollutants, and even with being pretty intentional, we still often end up with some angry digestive systems.  

But, as I watched Isaiah, this wasn't really about the walnut.  He was impressed by this man.  He now had connected with him and thought he was incredibly cool.  They had bonded in some odd way without understanding a word each other had said.  Saying no would have squashed that and contradicted the value that Isaiah saw in him at that moment.

Isaiah ate only a few scraps of the walnut and wasn't interested in eating much more.  Then, he asked if he could share one of his Oreo cookies (a notable offer from my son) with the man.  I said he could, of course.   He wanted to then see if the man wanted something to drink, so I brought him a glass of water.  Then, Isaiah asked if he could sit out in his little chair and finish his snack outside and watch the man as he worked in our yard.

The next morning, Isaiah woke up vomiting.  Yup.  Thankfully, it was actually pretty mild and short-lived, but he felt pretty crummy for most of the day.  The thing is, even though it is terribly hard to watch my son being sick, I wouldn't change the decision for the world.  I only wish I let it be that simple more often to really see and connect with people.

P.S. If you talk to Isaiah, please don't tell him eating the walnut made him sick! :)