I slept kinda bad last night. Marci decided to unwrap and eat a granola bar at 3 a.m. hahaha It reminded me of people in the theatre slowly unwrapping hard candy during an especially quiet and poignant scene. Just tear it like a bandaid!
I'm still congested and my left ear is still plugged. Managing.
Went to SS3 this morning and met the kids. They were so excited to see us. It melted my heart. One 2 or 3-year old boy ran up to me, extremely interested in my camera. :) All our cameras and video equipment turned out to be very popular -- another boy, "Zoom," wore it around his neck and probably took over 100 photos of the other kids and our group. Was told later he has autism. Another boy, "Tee" also tried it out.
After SS3 we went to GVI HQ and met Sherman -- what an amazing man. Chinese decent, grew up in Canada & went to college there, speaks Mandarin & Vietnamese fluently. Learned he is moving to Hong Kong TOMORROW and someone else is taking over his position at GVI.
Had a brief orientation and learned more about the Vietnamese culture.
Ate lunch at a place called So:da -- Western-style food. Had a ham & cheese and a pineapple smoothie. :)
Back to hotel after, then possibly shopping.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Hanoi
Landed in Hanoi at 10:10 p.m. Was reading more Mother Teresa. Was inspired about things I could be doing back home in Richmond to help the poor. Will see if I have the guts to follow through when I get back.
Hanoi is humid. Exhaust fumes hang in the air. Hard to get a sense of it in the dark but have a feeling it will be bustling in the morning.
Bic [our translator] and some other GVI team members met us at the airport and rode the shuttle with us to the hotel, which is in the oldest part of the city.
Bic is great. Very sweet, funny, friendly. She says her favorite karaoke song is "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" because she loves the Wizard of Oz. A girl after my own heart. :) Hoping we can sing karaoke while we are here.
We meet tomorrow morning at 8:00 to head out to SS3 Orphanage. Will be with the kids for about 90 minutes and then have time to see GVI headquarters and maybe do a little souvenir shopping.
Very crazy that we are FINALLY HERE!!
Was hard taking a shower without getting water in my mouth.
Hotel is nice. Sharing a room with Laura [Shibut] & Marci [Andrews].
Hanoi is humid. Exhaust fumes hang in the air. Hard to get a sense of it in the dark but have a feeling it will be bustling in the morning.
Bic [our translator] and some other GVI team members met us at the airport and rode the shuttle with us to the hotel, which is in the oldest part of the city.
Bic is great. Very sweet, funny, friendly. She says her favorite karaoke song is "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" because she loves the Wizard of Oz. A girl after my own heart. :) Hoping we can sing karaoke while we are here.
We meet tomorrow morning at 8:00 to head out to SS3 Orphanage. Will be with the kids for about 90 minutes and then have time to see GVI headquarters and maybe do a little souvenir shopping.
Very crazy that we are FINALLY HERE!!
Was hard taking a shower without getting water in my mouth.
Hotel is nice. Sharing a room with Laura [Shibut] & Marci [Andrews].
In Seoul
[This is a journal entry from my recent trip to Vietnam]
Arrived in Seoul, Korea! We were welcomed by rain, lots of clouds and fog. The airport is supposedly huge, although we only got to see a small portion. Was able to use wi-fi to send an email to family.
The flight itself was about 15 hours. It was (overall) relatively bearable. The flight attendants looked plasticky-perfect. Asian Barbie dolls. The service was really great.
Watched a couple movies, "The Hairdresser" in German and "Toast," a Brit flick.
At this point, it feels so surreal to be on the other side of the earth... by the time we get to Hanoi it will be bedtime. We lost an entire day! Feels so bizarre.
My left ear is plugged from the first flight, which is annoying. Was hoping to kick the sinus/allergy malady before leaving Richmond but it looks to be lingering. Trying really hard not to complain (and realizing how much I do... need to change that!).
Full of anticipation about the next several days. I'm reading a book of the wisdom of Mother Teresa. What an amazing spirit she had -- and a Christ-like life. Her philosophy was "faith, love and service." Certainly one worth emulating.
May we "not waste our time in looking for extraordinary experiences in life, but live by pure faith, ever watchful and ready by doing our duties with extraordinary love and devotion."
Praying that God will shine through us.
Arrived in Seoul, Korea! We were welcomed by rain, lots of clouds and fog. The airport is supposedly huge, although we only got to see a small portion. Was able to use wi-fi to send an email to family.
The flight itself was about 15 hours. It was (overall) relatively bearable. The flight attendants looked plasticky-perfect. Asian Barbie dolls. The service was really great.
Watched a couple movies, "The Hairdresser" in German and "Toast," a Brit flick.
At this point, it feels so surreal to be on the other side of the earth... by the time we get to Hanoi it will be bedtime. We lost an entire day! Feels so bizarre.
My left ear is plugged from the first flight, which is annoying. Was hoping to kick the sinus/allergy malady before leaving Richmond but it looks to be lingering. Trying really hard not to complain (and realizing how much I do... need to change that!).
Full of anticipation about the next several days. I'm reading a book of the wisdom of Mother Teresa. What an amazing spirit she had -- and a Christ-like life. Her philosophy was "faith, love and service." Certainly one worth emulating.
May we "not waste our time in looking for extraordinary experiences in life, but live by pure faith, ever watchful and ready by doing our duties with extraordinary love and devotion."
Praying that God will shine through us.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Choosing my words
Yeah. That happened to me today.
We've all been guilty of bad-mouthing at some point or another. No one can be on their best behavior all the time. And while the comments I heard immediately hurt my feelings, made me defensive and stirred up a bunch of negative emotions, the words also made me think about what I had done to provoke such comments. I also got to thinking about what I say about other people who I assume aren't listening.
There is a Russian saying, "слова слова слова!" ("words, words, words!"), meaning that whatever has been said is empty and meaningless. Yet, words have immense power. Even the most innocent of remarks can cause great harm -- or great good.How many proverbs and psalms and nuggets of wisdom have been written about choosing words wisely? One slip of the tongue can end a friendship, dissolve a marriage, ruin a business, end a political campaign or even a presidency. If words are this important, why aren't we more careful with what we say? Is it because we're lazy? Does it take too much time and effort to think about what we say before we say it -- do we think it doesn't really matter? Or is it because we live in such a fast-paced world that we assume people aren't listening most of the time anyway?
I heard a great quote by Maya Angelou when I was in college and it's one I need to remind myself of more often: "People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel."Words can wound; words can heal. Words can destroy; words can uplift. Words can ruin someone's day; words can make someone's day.
I can't control the words that come out of other people's mouths, but I can control my own. I have to believe that if I do, the likelihood of a repeat of today will be greatly diminished. And that's incentive enough for me.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Vietnam
Some of you might know that I am bound for Vietnam this summer. On July 26th, I will travel to the other side of the earth with a team from my church, Area 10 Faith Community. Our task is to provide critically needed supplies for and build lasting relationships with the staff and children of SS3, a state-run orphanage 45 minutes outside of Hanoi.
It might sound strange, but making the decision to go on this trip was both simple and extremely difficult -- simple, in that I have always wanted to do something like this and now felt like the time; difficult in that I knew there would be many hurdles to jump in order to make it happen (and if you know me, you know I'm no hurdler!). There was also no guarantee that, even if I threw my name in the hat, I would be chosen to go.
Ultimately, I chose to cast all the "difficulties" aside and trust the simple urge in my heart. I applied and was accepted. Next came the hurdles.
PASSPORT. Having never traveled outside the U.S. (besides Canada and Mexico, pre-passport requirement), I needed to obtain a passport. We would also need visas, but one of the team leaders was taking care of that for us; however, a passport was needed in order to get a visa, and the turn-around time for those was more questionable. In light of this, understandably, we were asked to get passports as soon as possible. I applied in early March, thinking that would allow plenty of time, as the "normal processing time" was four weeks. Others applied around the same time I did, and received their passports in almost exactly four weeks. I, on the other hand, waited. And waited. And waited. I knew the team leaders were getting anxious to submit the visa application paperwork. I checked with the passport agency, and there was nothing wrong with my application. The status was, "processing." I thought for a moment that this first hurdle might mean I would remain firmly planted on Virginia soil come July. Then, on May 7th (Norway's Independence Day, incidentally), I received my passport in the mail. Thank you God!
FUNDRAISING. Raising money has been my 9-5 job for nearly 10 years. I have written grants and letters asking corporations, foundations and individuals for donations ranging from $10 to $1 million. But, I have never had to solicit my family and friends. I was nervous about how my "pitch" would come across. I certainly didn't want anyone to feel obligated or guilted into supporting my trip. At the same time, I wanted to make it clear that without their support, it would not happen. Chris, our pastor, regularly encouraged us to "get after it" -- "it" being fundraising; making calls, sending letters and emails, etc. Even with his prompting, I put off sending letters. And put it off some more. And then I realized that it wasn't really up to me. Going on this trip was a divine calling. And in order to go, I would need money. And to get money, I would have to ask and have faith that it would come. When I finally sent out my letters, I was overwhelmed by the response. In no time at all, I already had accumulated more than half my goal. Over the last couple months, some people have backed out of the trip for various reasons, which meant that the individual fundraising goals for the rest of us have been bumped up a couple times. The goal has gone from $2,200 to $2,700 per person. I'm nearly there and would still welcome gifts of all sizes.
SPIRITUALITY. In my own mind, I've always been relatively steady in my faith. Of course, most everyone has their moments of doubt and uncertainty along the way, and I am no exception. But even through my more "worldly" years, I still turned to God for guidance. This trip has got me thinking hard about my faith -- in a good way. But it has also caused my insecurities and fears to bubble to the surface. Who am I to go halfway around the globe like some sort of Crusader? What difference can I possibly make in the lives of these people? Am I doing this for the right reasons? Am I in this for me, or am I in it for God's purpose? These are the types of anxious thoughts that have been swirling through my mind lately. But today, I was reminded of a wonderful quote by Marianne Williamson that addresses these very questions:
My prayer for this trip is that I, my team, and the people we serve in Vietnam not only would be liberated from fear, but that we would all recognize our uniqueness, our preciousness, and the invaluable roles we get to play in this world as children of God.
It might sound strange, but making the decision to go on this trip was both simple and extremely difficult -- simple, in that I have always wanted to do something like this and now felt like the time; difficult in that I knew there would be many hurdles to jump in order to make it happen (and if you know me, you know I'm no hurdler!). There was also no guarantee that, even if I threw my name in the hat, I would be chosen to go.
Ultimately, I chose to cast all the "difficulties" aside and trust the simple urge in my heart. I applied and was accepted. Next came the hurdles.
PASSPORT. Having never traveled outside the U.S. (besides Canada and Mexico, pre-passport requirement), I needed to obtain a passport. We would also need visas, but one of the team leaders was taking care of that for us; however, a passport was needed in order to get a visa, and the turn-around time for those was more questionable. In light of this, understandably, we were asked to get passports as soon as possible. I applied in early March, thinking that would allow plenty of time, as the "normal processing time" was four weeks. Others applied around the same time I did, and received their passports in almost exactly four weeks. I, on the other hand, waited. And waited. And waited. I knew the team leaders were getting anxious to submit the visa application paperwork. I checked with the passport agency, and there was nothing wrong with my application. The status was, "processing." I thought for a moment that this first hurdle might mean I would remain firmly planted on Virginia soil come July. Then, on May 7th (Norway's Independence Day, incidentally), I received my passport in the mail. Thank you God!
FUNDRAISING. Raising money has been my 9-5 job for nearly 10 years. I have written grants and letters asking corporations, foundations and individuals for donations ranging from $10 to $1 million. But, I have never had to solicit my family and friends. I was nervous about how my "pitch" would come across. I certainly didn't want anyone to feel obligated or guilted into supporting my trip. At the same time, I wanted to make it clear that without their support, it would not happen. Chris, our pastor, regularly encouraged us to "get after it" -- "it" being fundraising; making calls, sending letters and emails, etc. Even with his prompting, I put off sending letters. And put it off some more. And then I realized that it wasn't really up to me. Going on this trip was a divine calling. And in order to go, I would need money. And to get money, I would have to ask and have faith that it would come. When I finally sent out my letters, I was overwhelmed by the response. In no time at all, I already had accumulated more than half my goal. Over the last couple months, some people have backed out of the trip for various reasons, which meant that the individual fundraising goals for the rest of us have been bumped up a couple times. The goal has gone from $2,200 to $2,700 per person. I'm nearly there and would still welcome gifts of all sizes.
SPIRITUALITY. In my own mind, I've always been relatively steady in my faith. Of course, most everyone has their moments of doubt and uncertainty along the way, and I am no exception. But even through my more "worldly" years, I still turned to God for guidance. This trip has got me thinking hard about my faith -- in a good way. But it has also caused my insecurities and fears to bubble to the surface. Who am I to go halfway around the globe like some sort of Crusader? What difference can I possibly make in the lives of these people? Am I doing this for the right reasons? Am I in this for me, or am I in it for God's purpose? These are the types of anxious thoughts that have been swirling through my mind lately. But today, I was reminded of a wonderful quote by Marianne Williamson that addresses these very questions:
"We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."
My prayer for this trip is that I, my team, and the people we serve in Vietnam not only would be liberated from fear, but that we would all recognize our uniqueness, our preciousness, and the invaluable roles we get to play in this world as children of God.
Hòa bình!
(Peace!)
Thursday, May 12, 2011
"The needle's eye, it doth supply
the thread that runs so true"
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| Quilters cast. Photo by Robyn O'Neill |
The production is based on the book, The Quilters: Women and Domestic Art, an Oral History by Patricia J. Cooper and Norma Bradley Allen. Women relate their own joys and hardships, as well as those of their ancestors who settled America's western plains. The stories of their lives are sewn into their quilts and passed down through the generations.
A number of references in the show have struck a personal chord with me; many true threads run through it.
 |
| Arial view of our farm, surrounded by corn & soybeans. |
My parents still live in the wooden 1880s one-and-a-half story house where I spent my formative years on a working farm in rural Minnesota (35 miles north of Laura Ingalls Wilder's Walnut Grove). When I was in early elementary school, we had Herefords (beef cattle) and an Arabian horse named Misty. We had one milk cow, a Guernsey named Betsy, that dad milked by hand every day; my mom took care of the laying hens and the hundred or so pullets; we all worked in the fields, moving up and down the rows, ridding the soil of weeds and rocks. I was driving a tractor in fourth grade. The winters were harsh and the summers were blazing. The wind always seemed to blow.
"When the wind blew, the water was pumped [by the windmill] into an old wooden barrel down on the ground. The barrel was always coated with green mossy stuff. I'll never forget the way it smelled, or what my face looked like in the water." (me)
We didn't have a windmill on our farm when I was a kid, but the well pump did feed water into an old wooden tank on the ground that was always coated with green mossy stuff, and I can still remember how it smelled and what my face looked like in the water. It held water not for us, but for the livestock.
"Everyone down to the cellar!" (Brittany)
Our farmhouse doesn't have a basement, it has a cellar, which is one room under the dining room and part of the kitchen, accessed by a trap door on the porch. I remember crouching down there a few times when tornadoes were in the area.
"This will be number twelve for Caleb and me, and I'm nearly thirty-five years old!" (me)
In one scene, I play a 34-year-old woman who grieves her situation when she finds herself pregnant with her twelfth child. She goes to the doctor, who is of no help. Out of concern for the well-being of her family, not to mention fearing injury or death during childbirth, her sister helps her find a "recipe that will relieve her of her problem." My great-grandmother, who had 13 children, also confronted such a situation. Coincidentally, I am 34 years old.
"When the wind blew, the water was pumped [by the windmill] into an old wooden barrel down on the ground. The barrel was always coated with green mossy stuff. I'll never forget the way it smelled, or what my face looked like in the water." (me)
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| Our "modern" barn, built in 1933 |
"Everyone down to the cellar!" (Brittany)
Our farmhouse doesn't have a basement, it has a cellar, which is one room under the dining room and part of the kitchen, accessed by a trap door on the porch. I remember crouching down there a few times when tornadoes were in the area.
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| The Kreshka Family, c. 1945 |
In one scene, I play a 34-year-old woman who grieves her situation when she finds herself pregnant with her twelfth child. She goes to the doctor, who is of no help. Out of concern for the well-being of her family, not to mention fearing injury or death during childbirth, her sister helps her find a "recipe that will relieve her of her problem." My great-grandmother, who had 13 children, also confronted such a situation. Coincidentally, I am 34 years old.
"No, I never married. Once I almost did, but it didn't work out. I was 27 years old." (me)
I was 27 when I got married, and it didn't work out. (Also, the name of this character is Katherine, which was my grandmother's name.)
"I am holding a piecing party at my home on the first Saturday of next month to celebrate the occasion of my son Jamie's twenty-first birthday."(me)
Jamie is, of course, the name of my ex-husband.
"These quilts is from the ladies of the First Lutheran Church!" (me)
I grew up and was confirmed in the Lutheran church.
"When you bury me, don't bury me in my best quilt." (Jackie)
During this part of the play, my fellow daughters and I are pallbearers on either side of a long bier that holds the 8-foot quilt that is raised at the end. Unbeknownst to Tom, my position on the bier is the same position I had on the casket when I was a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral last summer.
"Twenty-five years to make a comfort that is longer lasting than a life... Sarah the child and child-bearer; the wife and woman I was taken for. The stitches tell of all these and many Sarahs more." (Jackie/all)
The etymology of the word, "quilt," is from Old French, cuilte which stems from the Latin, culcita, meaning mattress or cushion. It is interesting to me that the meaning of the word has switched from cushion to cover; yet, both are meant to bring comfort. Even though most of the women in my family were more disposed to knitting, crocheting and embroidering than quilting, the time and care involved in each stitch was just as heartfelt and meaningful, with the recipient's comfort being the ultimate goal. Did my grandmother realize she was stitching her legacy nearly twenty-five years ago when she knitted the comforter for my bed? Maybe she did.
To my Quilters sisters and friends, thank you for a memorable journey through the frontier. It was a pleasure expressing the "pieces of women's lives" through story and song over the last seven weeks.
Love and laughter to you all!
"I am holding a piecing party at my home on the first Saturday of next month to celebrate the occasion of my son Jamie's twenty-first birthday."(me)
Jamie is, of course, the name of my ex-husband.
 |
| Yellow Medicine Lutheran Church |
I grew up and was confirmed in the Lutheran church.
"When you bury me, don't bury me in my best quilt." (Jackie)
During this part of the play, my fellow daughters and I are pallbearers on either side of a long bier that holds the 8-foot quilt that is raised at the end. Unbeknownst to Tom, my position on the bier is the same position I had on the casket when I was a pallbearer at my grandmother's funeral last summer.
"Twenty-five years to make a comfort that is longer lasting than a life... Sarah the child and child-bearer; the wife and woman I was taken for. The stitches tell of all these and many Sarahs more." (Jackie/all)
The etymology of the word, "quilt," is from Old French, cuilte which stems from the Latin, culcita, meaning mattress or cushion. It is interesting to me that the meaning of the word has switched from cushion to cover; yet, both are meant to bring comfort. Even though most of the women in my family were more disposed to knitting, crocheting and embroidering than quilting, the time and care involved in each stitch was just as heartfelt and meaningful, with the recipient's comfort being the ultimate goal. Did my grandmother realize she was stitching her legacy nearly twenty-five years ago when she knitted the comforter for my bed? Maybe she did.
To my Quilters sisters and friends, thank you for a memorable journey through the frontier. It was a pleasure expressing the "pieces of women's lives" through story and song over the last seven weeks.
Love and laughter to you all!
 |
| Raising of the Legacy Quilt, final scene of Quilters |
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Why Jesus Is Just Alright with me.
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| The Doobie Brothers |
All this is to say, appearances aren't always what they seem. While I think the Easter Bunny is cute and I love Cadbury Creme Eggs arguably more than 90% of people I know, it might come as a surprise to some that I'm a Jesus girl. While I don't necessarily shout it from the rooftops, I don't hide my light under a bushel either.
I'm not going to spend a lot of time on a soapbox here. But it is Easter, or Resurrection Sunday, or whatever you choose to call it. Christmas typically steals the Christian calendar spotlight, but really, Easter is the reason those of us Jesus-people call ourselves "Christians."
Jesus -- the Greekified name for the Hebrew Yeshua, or as we more commonly know it, Joshua -- is a complex, fascinating and seemingly contradictory guy. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you." (John 14:27) "I did not come to bring peace, but a sword." (Matthew 10:34)
Whaaa? Well, which is it?! ......Both?
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| Orthodox lithograph |
Following the teachings of Jesus can be challenging and I'm confused by these contradictions as much as the next girl. And as hard as I try to figure out the meaning of these and other passages, using context and intent and historic relevance, it is somewhat of a relief knowing I don't have to figure it all out to know what, for me as a Christian, I believe to be the ultimate truth: that Jesus is the Son of God, who died to pay for the shortcomings of all humanity, and overcame death so we could have life. Easter in a nutshell.
Our world is full of contradictions. So is my life for that matter. I'm a "sinner" if there ever was one. I screw up (yes, sometimes willingly) on a daily basis. But in my heart of hearts, I want to be a better person. I know I'll never get there, but thankfully, that's where Jesus comes in.
And that's why He's still alright with me.
Happy Easter!
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