My mom and I listened to John Piper yesterday, Quest: Joy!
Click on the link above to listen or read what he has to say.
I am enjoying a new song (new to me) Making a Difference, written locally by Teo Poh Heng, around 1995 I think. Once you click on the link, scroll down to listen.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Receding Hair Lengths
I cut my hair again--10 days after the big one. I like it better now. I needed a picture for a project, so Mom became the photographer on demand. It was like doing HS senior portraits. :)
R & R
I got my R&R in the mountains--a fabulous week alone in Malaysia with my Creator, His Word, my journal, backpack guitar, and flute. It was food for my soul. The computer stayed home (brand new experience)! The first half of the week was spent in hibernation at the guest house, then venturing out the 2nd half.
Oh the beauty! O the joy and nourishment of adventure
(and monkeying around).
A foot massage (the best ever), assembling a 600-pc puzzle, and discovering new settings on my camera.
I got rather concerned on the bus ride down, as our driver was more concerned about his watch that had stopped than he was about watching where he was going. Also we were running late, and I was just sure I was going to miss my train. He was creeping at a snail's pace--which, I guess is the best pace to go, if you're going to work on fixing your watch on windy, mountain roads. I arrived at the station just as the train pulled in. Whew!
----------------------------------------------------------
If you have time for a story, read on (adapted from my journal, about the trip up)....
----------------------------------------------------------
I finally made it to these mountains—finally in the grand scheme of things (having been wanting to do it someday), and finally after a long trip yesterday. Things ran pretty much like clockwork, really—my 6 am flight was on time, no problems getting a bus to the train station, arriving at the train station just in time for the 9 am train, 2 hrs later I was in—er, close to—T-town, where the people helped me get to the bus that took me to T-town, where I would need to catch another bus to my final destination. It was here that things slowed down, so that it was 4 pm when I was standing uncertainly at the top of a privately-marked driveway with a ferocious-sounding (and -looking) dog running towards me.
People are not quite so obliging without Colleen at my side. On our first trip to Malaysia, we tread on the graces of the people every step of the way. But they were falling over themselves to help (excepting the man from the chalet who tried to rip us off!). It was either the absence of Colleen or it was my short hair. People don’t look at me the same. My mom pointed out people may have been more used to tourists in that area and not concerned for my safety. Anyway, despite it all, no one led me astray, but they didn’t have a whole lot of patience with me (I did try it pretty well on a few of them!) :)
It was a day of the disabled. First my train seat partner was a deaf girl. Her brother and sister-in-law told me when they put her on the train. I discovered too late on the ride that we could communicate by writing. She said she knew a little bit of American Sign Language. I was trying to find out what sign she used, because I had watched her on a cell phone video call with someone, fingers flying. In Malaysia! She was also sending text messages—which was my (delayed) tip-off that I could write with her and ask some questions. I was dying to know more about where she got her education, curious for the sake of the deaf kids on the island. I ran out of time, though, and didn’t get that sorted. Oh well.
From there I was the disabled one—the ignorant white girl, bumbling her way about the Malaysian bus system. I made it on the bus to T-town, and plopped in a front row seat so I wouldn’t have to drag my luggage further. Then a youngish man climbed aboard. His leg was not functioning, and his shoulder looked out of place. He sat next to me for a similar reason—not to hold up the bus. At the next stop, a couple guys got on and had trouble getting past his straight leg that was barring the entrance because he couldn’t bend it. After that he moved to a seat further back where he could stretch his leg down the aisle without obstructing passengers. Good thing, because the next guy to get on was a shoe-in for Asia’s Biggest Loser. I mean no disrespect, it’s just the facts. He was bigger than most of the people I’ve seen on ABL. Maybe not quite as big as Kevin, but this dude was a beast. I watched in fascination as he struggled up the steps and wondered how he was going to get down the aisle, then for a fleeting second I thought he was going to sit with me, and I didn’t know how that was going to work. But he didn't sit next to me. He disappeared behind me and I didn’t turn around to watch.
In T-town, the crippled man discovered we could communicate, and began telling me his woes, wanting some money because he had a difficult life. We sort of became friends after that. As it turned out, my bus was not leaving for another 2 hours, so I spent part of that time with him.
On the last bus, a young girl behind me wanted to ask me questions while we wound around the mountains. Fortunately she didn’t start until close to her destination, because I have a weak stomach, and had to turn around every time she said something. But Daisy got off early, after getting my email address. For 2 hours the wind whipped around me and the air got cooler and cooler. Not once did I have to move hair out of my eyes! :) Ah, that was nice. I am loving short hair. But I had to brace myself around every curve, holding on to my guitar, little suitcase, and dear life. The driver whipped around those mountains he drives every day, while everything and everyone behind him was slammed from one side of the bus to the other.
When the bus pulled in to the final stop, I stepped off, with my directions in hand:
First problem: I couldn’t exactly tell which was the “main road.” But I guessed and started walking... and hiking... and there was nothing. And I began to wonder. Fifteen minutes passed. Isn’t that how long it takes to walk a mile? Aren’t there 1.6 km in a mile? But I was going uphill. Dragging luggage. Then 20 minutes… 25. What if I am on the wrong road?
Then I saw a driveway on the left. In my exhaustion I think I heard a choir and saw golden light streaming out from it. I crossed the road and started up the long driveway, music fading as I passed a sign that read:
---------------------------------------------------------
As it turned out, I had made it to the guest house. Brownie did not eat me, though he tried at other times. We came to some sort of workable relationship in which he would try to chew up anything in my hands and I would beat him with it.
Oh the beauty! O the joy and nourishment of adventure
(and monkeying around).
A foot massage (the best ever), assembling a 600-pc puzzle, and discovering new settings on my camera.
I got rather concerned on the bus ride down, as our driver was more concerned about his watch that had stopped than he was about watching where he was going. Also we were running late, and I was just sure I was going to miss my train. He was creeping at a snail's pace--which, I guess is the best pace to go, if you're going to work on fixing your watch on windy, mountain roads. I arrived at the station just as the train pulled in. Whew!----------------------------------------------------------
If you have time for a story, read on (adapted from my journal, about the trip up)....
----------------------------------------------------------
I finally made it to these mountains—finally in the grand scheme of things (having been wanting to do it someday), and finally after a long trip yesterday. Things ran pretty much like clockwork, really—my 6 am flight was on time, no problems getting a bus to the train station, arriving at the train station just in time for the 9 am train, 2 hrs later I was in—er, close to—T-town, where the people helped me get to the bus that took me to T-town, where I would need to catch another bus to my final destination. It was here that things slowed down, so that it was 4 pm when I was standing uncertainly at the top of a privately-marked driveway with a ferocious-sounding (and -looking) dog running towards me.
People are not quite so obliging without Colleen at my side. On our first trip to Malaysia, we tread on the graces of the people every step of the way. But they were falling over themselves to help (excepting the man from the chalet who tried to rip us off!). It was either the absence of Colleen or it was my short hair. People don’t look at me the same. My mom pointed out people may have been more used to tourists in that area and not concerned for my safety. Anyway, despite it all, no one led me astray, but they didn’t have a whole lot of patience with me (I did try it pretty well on a few of them!) :)
It was a day of the disabled. First my train seat partner was a deaf girl. Her brother and sister-in-law told me when they put her on the train. I discovered too late on the ride that we could communicate by writing. She said she knew a little bit of American Sign Language. I was trying to find out what sign she used, because I had watched her on a cell phone video call with someone, fingers flying. In Malaysia! She was also sending text messages—which was my (delayed) tip-off that I could write with her and ask some questions. I was dying to know more about where she got her education, curious for the sake of the deaf kids on the island. I ran out of time, though, and didn’t get that sorted. Oh well.
From there I was the disabled one—the ignorant white girl, bumbling her way about the Malaysian bus system. I made it on the bus to T-town, and plopped in a front row seat so I wouldn’t have to drag my luggage further. Then a youngish man climbed aboard. His leg was not functioning, and his shoulder looked out of place. He sat next to me for a similar reason—not to hold up the bus. At the next stop, a couple guys got on and had trouble getting past his straight leg that was barring the entrance because he couldn’t bend it. After that he moved to a seat further back where he could stretch his leg down the aisle without obstructing passengers. Good thing, because the next guy to get on was a shoe-in for Asia’s Biggest Loser. I mean no disrespect, it’s just the facts. He was bigger than most of the people I’ve seen on ABL. Maybe not quite as big as Kevin, but this dude was a beast. I watched in fascination as he struggled up the steps and wondered how he was going to get down the aisle, then for a fleeting second I thought he was going to sit with me, and I didn’t know how that was going to work. But he didn't sit next to me. He disappeared behind me and I didn’t turn around to watch.
In T-town, the crippled man discovered we could communicate, and began telling me his woes, wanting some money because he had a difficult life. We sort of became friends after that. As it turned out, my bus was not leaving for another 2 hours, so I spent part of that time with him.
On the last bus, a young girl behind me wanted to ask me questions while we wound around the mountains. Fortunately she didn’t start until close to her destination, because I have a weak stomach, and had to turn around every time she said something. But Daisy got off early, after getting my email address. For 2 hours the wind whipped around me and the air got cooler and cooler. Not once did I have to move hair out of my eyes! :) Ah, that was nice. I am loving short hair. But I had to brace myself around every curve, holding on to my guitar, little suitcase, and dear life. The driver whipped around those mountains he drives every day, while everything and everyone behind him was slammed from one side of the bus to the other.
When the bus pulled in to the final stop, I stepped off, with my directions in hand:
...walk on the main road and you will reach the driveway to the bungalow. It is the first driveway on the left after the town. It is not marked.
First problem: I couldn’t exactly tell which was the “main road.” But I guessed and started walking... and hiking... and there was nothing. And I began to wonder. Fifteen minutes passed. Isn’t that how long it takes to walk a mile? Aren’t there 1.6 km in a mile? But I was going uphill. Dragging luggage. Then 20 minutes… 25. What if I am on the wrong road?
Then I saw a driveway on the left. In my exhaustion I think I heard a choir and saw golden light streaming out from it. I crossed the road and started up the long driveway, music fading as I passed a sign that read:
Private property. Do not enter.And there I was, at 4 pm, all hopes dashed, being charged by a dog while a young woman was running after him calling, “Brownie!” It seemed quite an unsuitable name as I froze, hounded, with visions of my other dog-bite incidents dancing in my head, wondering if I was going to become Brownie’s snack.
---------------------------------------------------------
As it turned out, I had made it to the guest house. Brownie did not eat me, though he tried at other times. We came to some sort of workable relationship in which he would try to chew up anything in my hands and I would beat him with it.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
from my journal
January 5, 2010
I am feeling a little depressed about being gone from the U.S. I think there is something about that freedom of being able to jump in the car at any time and drive in any direction for thousands of miles; so many friends and family in driving or plane/train distance; the wide open spaces; being able to just step outside (feeling a little claustrophobic at the moment in the 11th floor apartment); being able to call people pretty much whenever without giving thought to time zones; being able to purchase anything I desire at the store (availability, that is); the non-humid air (okay, that isn’t year round, and controlled temperatures drive me crazy, but still...); the reliable electricity; mountains seem so far away.... It’s as if there is imminent oppression looming over me—dress? Food choices? People interactions? Language? Location?... I do feel a bit trapped, like I don’t have options to do something else. I’m a finisher, and I don’t want to leave work undone. But at the same time, I feel like my mental/emotional timeline has expired, and my heart wants to move on, but there are no concrete alternatives beckoning to me....Tangents and rampages. Really I need to rest and recharge....
I am feeling a little depressed about being gone from the U.S. I think there is something about that freedom of being able to jump in the car at any time and drive in any direction for thousands of miles; so many friends and family in driving or plane/train distance; the wide open spaces; being able to just step outside (feeling a little claustrophobic at the moment in the 11th floor apartment); being able to call people pretty much whenever without giving thought to time zones; being able to purchase anything I desire at the store (availability, that is); the non-humid air (okay, that isn’t year round, and controlled temperatures drive me crazy, but still...); the reliable electricity; mountains seem so far away.... It’s as if there is imminent oppression looming over me—dress? Food choices? People interactions? Language? Location?... I do feel a bit trapped, like I don’t have options to do something else. I’m a finisher, and I don’t want to leave work undone. But at the same time, I feel like my mental/emotional timeline has expired, and my heart wants to move on, but there are no concrete alternatives beckoning to me....Tangents and rampages. Really I need to rest and recharge....
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Good Times
A post I started a couple weeks ago but only just finished:
After a lovely dinner with Frank and Sandi
(and Kelly, John, & Cathy, not pictured here).
A hot, crock-pot mess of roommate deja vous. :)
Chatting with Desiree and Jaron
and stopping to pose
Anya the photographer, catching shots of everyone over my last Sunday lunch, starting with mom (Kelly)
...Lilia
...Jej
Thai food with Becky and Karin*
I got to spend a couple hours with my lovely friend Margery, who got married since I last saw her.
Right before leaving, I dropped off the honda I've been driving at Warrick and Andrea's place. Andrea ("Aundy," as I have always called her) and their son, Peter, took me to the airport. I just missed seeing Warrick before he scooted off to work. Aundy is my buddy from elementary school (Tammy, Aundy and I hung out together all the time) and Warrick was one of my lunch buddies in high school. It's a rare experience when two friends get married. So glad I got to meet Peter and catch up (albeit briefly) with Aundy.
* Thai food is always a must with Becky, and I was so excited that Karin was able to join us! (although it was Becky who did the joining in the end, when she ran out of gas and we got to go rescue her from being stranded in the middle of the road) :)
After a lovely dinner with Frank and Sandi(and Kelly, John, & Cathy, not pictured here).
A hot, crock-pot mess of roommate deja vous. :)
Chatting with Desiree and Jaron
and stopping to pose
Anya the photographer, catching shots of everyone over my last Sunday lunch, starting with mom (Kelly)
...Lilia
...Jej
Thai food with Becky and Karin*
I got to spend a couple hours with my lovely friend Margery, who got married since I last saw her.
Right before leaving, I dropped off the honda I've been driving at Warrick and Andrea's place. Andrea ("Aundy," as I have always called her) and their son, Peter, took me to the airport. I just missed seeing Warrick before he scooted off to work. Aundy is my buddy from elementary school (Tammy, Aundy and I hung out together all the time) and Warrick was one of my lunch buddies in high school. It's a rare experience when two friends get married. So glad I got to meet Peter and catch up (albeit briefly) with Aundy.
* Thai food is always a must with Becky, and I was so excited that Karin was able to join us! (although it was Becky who did the joining in the end, when she ran out of gas and we got to go rescue her from being stranded in the middle of the road) :)
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
7.0 Earthquake
It never occurred to me that Haiti was in an earthquake zone.
While my travel plans were up in the air,
I considered going back to Haiti.
What if I had been there?
I feel so far removed.
I wish I had a way to communicate with people.
I wonder how the mountains of Castaches fared.
On one CNN map they had an arrow
pointing right to my old stomping grounds.
I wish there was a way to know.
Eventually I'll find out about my American friends that live in Haiti.
But until I go back myself,
I won't know how it affected my Haitian families.
Pray for Haiti.
Jan 15: thanks to facebook, I see that Flanagans and JennyMac are OK! But I still don't have a clue how I would be able to find out about my Haitian friends. :(
While my travel plans were up in the air,
I considered going back to Haiti.
What if I had been there?
I feel so far removed.
I wish I had a way to communicate with people.
I wonder how the mountains of Castaches fared.
On one CNN map they had an arrow
pointing right to my old stomping grounds.
I wish there was a way to know.
Eventually I'll find out about my American friends that live in Haiti.
But until I go back myself,
I won't know how it affected my Haitian families.
Pray for Haiti.
Jan 15: thanks to facebook, I see that Flanagans and JennyMac are OK! But I still don't have a clue how I would be able to find out about my Haitian friends. :(
Just Do It
No more talk now. It's done!
Here is Joe, braiding my hair...
I'm bracing myself...
It took a fair amount of sawing with the scissors....
And then there it was! 12 inches.
The top of it looked like a massive paint brush.
I planned on mailing my hair to Locks of Love, figuring that donating it to a good cause would help with any regret I would experience. Now I am discovering all this scam stuff online. What to do? Ugh. Trying to decide if Wigs for Kids would be better or maybe Pantene Beautiful Lengths? I imagine these organizations all have similar financial scenes, but at least the other 2 provide the wigs for free.
Here is Joe, braiding my hair...
I'm bracing myself...
It took a fair amount of sawing with the scissors....
And then there it was! 12 inches.
The top of it looked like a massive paint brush.
I planned on mailing my hair to Locks of Love, figuring that donating it to a good cause would help with any regret I would experience. Now I am discovering all this scam stuff online. What to do? Ugh. Trying to decide if Wigs for Kids would be better or maybe Pantene Beautiful Lengths? I imagine these organizations all have similar financial scenes, but at least the other 2 provide the wigs for free.
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Emma's
I pampered myself on my way to Orlando and spent 2 nights at a bed & breakfast in St. Mary's that gave me a nice discount.Great breakfasts
St. Mary's was the perfect, quaint little town, and the perfect time of year to go, since Christmas lights were all up (plus, they were preparing for a Christmas show of the historical homes).
Fun history with breakfast (zoom in on the note with the marmalade)
I had so much fun walking around town. There was a flock of birds that did a long air ballet performance for me over the dock. :) I stood there for at least 20 minutes, watching them swoop and soar.
The Riverside Cafe had awesome, authentic Greek food. I had a nice long chat with the chef (from Greece, obviously), and now I want to go there.
Fun with photo editing.
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Rewind to Christmas
Christmas morning Bob made his french toast breakfast with his assistant, Karen. :) They hosted me during my 3 weeks in Orlando and gave me royal grand-parenting treatment the whole time I was there (not old enough to be my grandparents). I was spoiled rotten. And I loved it. :)
That evening I spent another Christmas with my family of "brothers." It was so fun to be with them again. Jaron was in a bit of a zombie-state after the Christmas Eve performance from the night before. He walked around in a daze holding a teddy-bear one of his violin students had given him. Desiree fixed a great Christmas dinner and I think Doug helped? :) The picture of Ethan with his suitcase and scarf was taken right before he walked out the door into a crazy night of 360 degrees that involved police and lots of phone calls. Glad you're safe, Ethan.Thanks for taking the pictures, Grandma K, and thanks for passing them on, Karsten. Roger, I'm so glad you could be there, too!
Jaron pulled off another Christmas Eve orchestral evening (5th one? 6th?), but not without losing a little sleep and sanity (didn't have much to spare, did you?). ;) I specifically wanted to be in Orlando over Christmas for this. I got to fulfill some of that performer in me. :) Thanks for letting me in!
Oh, cool provision story.... In a rehearsal I told Jaron that I had a piccolo, and we were excited about using it in the orchestra. However, then I could not locate the piccolo anywhere! We started checking out rental possibilities (no go) and asked around to see if anyone might have one I could borrow. Dead ends everywhere. Before going to bed the night before the dress rehearsal, I asked Karen and Bob if they would pray with me about the piccolo issue. Karen prayed and then said, "You know, I have a friend who might have one." The next morning she inquired, and after some networking, uncovered one not in use by a different friend, Tracy....
Tracy's daughter, Hannah, had leukemia, and at age 16 the Make A Wish Foundation gave her a piccolo. Hannah went to heaven a few years ago. She was younger than me. Tracy was getting ready to sell the piccolo but was very glad for me to use it for the Christmas Eve services free of charge. She even made a special trip to deliver the piccolo herself. It was a beautiful, wooden Emerson piccolo, used only a few times since Hannah's death. What a blessing! When God provides, He provides big.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Asia's New York
After 20 hours in the air, I made it to my family who was eagerly awaiting my arrival. Charis and dad were at the airport to meet me at 1 am. 
As I got close, my heart felt unprepared to be back on this side of the world, but I thought, well, there is certainly no going back now! It is so good to be with the fam, though, and I've got some time to rest and prepare for island life.
As I got close, my heart felt unprepared to be back on this side of the world, but I thought, well, there is certainly no going back now! It is so good to be with the fam, though, and I've got some time to rest and prepare for island life.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy New Year!
Orlando to San Francisco was a 17-hour trip! Almost as long as I'll be spending on planes starting tomorrow. Sadly, my U.S. travels have come to an end. Here I am, ending them in California with my long-lost Orlando buddies, Jim and Toni. I have had a delightful time visiting with people, and I'm ending it all with a big bang. :)
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