Academy Open House

A few weeks ago, we had our Academy Open House.  Now, since you can't come to the ship and see how we do things here, I thought I'd share a couple pictures and tidbits of information.  It'll be just like you were here, too!

First off, these crazy folks are my colleagues.  Yep, these ladies and this lone gentleman (God bless him!) are responsible for educating about 50 students, from pre-school up through 12th grade.  Average class sizes run from 2 students to a whopping 8 students per class.  That may not seem like much, but squish them all into a room the size of a nice walk-in closet and there is plenty of energy to go round.  Since many of our upper-level classes combine grades, we high school teachers cover material on a two-year rotation.  Last year, I taught World Geography (in addition to Bible and a couple English classes).  This year, we are plunging into History, from Ancient History all the way up through the Enlightenment.  I must say, I am enjoying it thoroughly.  I've had to read quite a bit to stay ahead of the students, but the material is fascinating indeed (and not entirely new--I do remember some things from college).

  For Open House, teachers were asked to provide fun activities for our visitors to do that showed the kinds of things we spend our precious time learning during the school day.  These happy adults are thinking of things to add to a "Mercy Ships Timeline" we were creating, showing all the significant events that crew members who visited my classroom wanted to add.  The timeline ran from 1940 to the present and included such varied events as birthdays, marriages, first baseball games, coming to the ship, the birth/adoption of children and so on.  One cheeky man documented the year in which his wife was born.  He was smart enough not to write her name, though.  Below you will find a picture of the final product.  Not bad eh?

Every so often I have to stop and marvel at the remarkable community I live in.  Granted, we have our disagreements.  You don't get 300+ people all living together without at least a few ruffled feathers.  But the generosity I see around me as people get down to the business of pouring themselves out for each other is just breath-taking.  It's like a preview of heaven.

Happy Birthday, Dad!

Today is a very special day.  It is my dad's birthday!  I always puff up just a little when I'm telling people about my dad.  He is an impressive guy (although sometimes he doesn't see it).  Not all of you know him.  When you have lived and worked in so many different places, you make a lot of friends who only know who you are now.  The places and people you came from hang around you like dreams in your friends' minds--legends they piece together from things you've told them.  I wish you could get to know my dad like I know him.  But maybe you know him better than either of us realize...

If you've ever heard me laugh one short loud laugh from my gut, you've heard my dad laugh (except my voice is considerably higher).

If you've seen me making friendly conversation with strangers in line, you've seen my dad socializing.

If you've ever watched me working on a project, and seen me go oh so carefully, and get really frustrated with tiny mistakes that you can't see but that I can't seem to see past, you've been watching my dad work.

When I'm talking about something important and my eyes well up, and my voice gets all intense and wobbly, that's my dad talking, too.

You know how sometimes I can tell a story (even about something boring, like doing the laundry) and people listen like I'm the only one in the room?  I get that from my dad.

When I spend an afternoon reading wikipedia articles, it's only because I grew up watching my dad read the encyclopedia (or Caesar and Christ, or 2201 Fascinating Facts).

And if you've watched me jump into a technical conversation about something you didn't know I knew anything about and hold forth as if I'd studied it in college, you've seen my dad sharing his encyclopedic knowledge.

If I know how to learn everything I can from a situation, embracing the hurt as well as the healing, I'm only doing what my dad does.

And if I've ever faced a crisis with a clear head and a generous heart, it's because I've seen my dad pull together and do what needed to be done time after time after time.

I love my dad like I love myself.  Because, in many ways, he is very like myself--or, I am like him.  That's the best gift he ever gave me, I think.

So happy birthday, Dad.  And thanks ever so much for my present.  I could not ask for better!

Love,
Sarah

How about some pictures!

Some days, this is what I think the world sees when it sees me:

And then there are days when this is what the world gets:

Unfortunately, I think the latter occurs more frequently than the former...

We're still friends, right?

'Cause there are times when you've looked just as ridiculous, and I still like you.

(Actually, I think I like you a tiny bit better when you look silly.)

There's no real theme to this blog entry.  I just felt like we needed more pictures.  Here are some pictures of my time in Texas:

We went to the zoo.  (There are elephants in Congo, by the way!  I haven't seen any yet, but I'm in a port city, so that makes sense.)

This picture makes me laugh. Do you think the parrots know that there's a squirrel stealing their food?

We spent some time in Tenerife, Spain (the Canary Islands) while the ship was getting all ready to sail down to Congo.  It was beautiful.

This was taken on my birthday, when we all went out for pizza, sangria, and gelato (in that order).  Can you spot my twin?  (There's nothing wrong with my hand.  That's just the camera wobbling.)

I miss you all so much it hurts, but my life here is very rich.  I hope that your lives are also full of funny faces, exotic creatures, opportunistic squirrels, beautiful architecture, marvelous friends, and ice cream... 

or something equally as good.

Rain on the Ocean

We've been sailing for almost a week now.
(What!? you say, eyebrows so far up your forehead they become part of your silhouette, I thought you were in Texas!  What happened to the rest of your training?  Have you nothing to say about returning to the ship?  Weren't you just in Spain?  And what about your birthday?  Aren't you going to say anything about that?!)  I have no good response.  All I can say is that sometimes all the things you think about saying clamor so loudly in your brain that they cancel each other out.

But I was just standing up on deck 8 as the ship nosed its graceful way into a rain storm.*  I watched the rolling watery hills change from glossy to matte.  Countless pinpoints of water hitting water soothed my ear, like the faraway applause of about a million gnomes.  It felt so good to be outside after a killer first three days of school. (Oh yeah, school started.  I didn't tell you about that either.)  We're headed for the equator, so the air is warm and wet and welcoming.  And even though all 360 degrees of horizon is unimaginably flat, I can still sense Africa when I stare out to port.  We saw dolphins a couple days ago, and there were orcas on Tuesday.  I thought I spotted some birds this afternoon, which would be impressive, considering how far away from land we are, but it turns out that flying fish actually flap their wings (who knew, right?).  It occurred to me recently that yet another of my ridiculous childhood fantasies has come true.  I am a sailor.  I live on the sea (at least, for a while I do).  Is that not amazing?  It's not something I ever set out to do, just a longing I had whenever I read books about seafaring adventurers, and now here we are.

I take it as a sign of God's character that the life He's given me is far deeper and richer than I could possibly construct on my own.  And that He delights in giving me ridiculously extravagant gifts.


*Okay, really it's just a bunch of rain.  I have a feeling that if it was a real storm, I wouldn't be sitting quite so comfortably at my desk right now.)

Letters from Texas Part II

Several times over the last week I've encountered all sorts of Thinky Thoughts.  It's bound to happen when you spend the whole day listening to various instructors talk about big things like Worldview, and Transformational Development.  Unfortunately, by the time I'm able to sit down and blog about it, my brain has turned to mush and profundity is way beyond the scope of my ability.  I can manage I wonder what's for dinner, and Better check the bed for spiders, but that's about it.  Nevertheless, I have decided to sit down and type in hopes that some scraps of thought might settle to the bottom of my still-spinning mind, and dribble out of my fingertips and into the computer.

Ah, here's one.

The week before last, we spent some time studying the Name of God (as described in Exodus 34:6-7).  It's the name God gives Moses when he causes his glory to pass in front of him, and it consists of seven different descriptors: compassionate, gracious, slow to anger, overflowing with love and faithfulness, showing steadfast love to thousands, forgiving, and just.  No surprises there, right? God wants Moses and the Israelites (and us) to know what kind of being he is--his character--and these are the qualities he chooses to sum up all of his goodness.  Alright.  Now, keeping God's 'name' in mind, look at the command Jesus gives in Matthew 28:19 where, after having risen from the dead, he tells his followers to "go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit*."  Now the word "baptizing" here means "immersing," which means that Jesus is telling his followers to immerse the nations in the name of God.  What if he's not talking about dunking people in God's name as in "on his behalf," or "under his authority," but as in immersing them in his character?  Isn't that wild?  It totally turns your garden-variety missionary work on its head.  We're not supposed to be recruiting people to be on God's team.  It's not like we've got these massive clipboards with which we run around trying to get people to sign under God's name.  In fact, there's nothing in that command that says we have to make the nations do anything.  We're the ones being commanded, after all.  And what are we commanded to do?  Make disciples by simply baptizing/immersing/soaking the world with God's character (which is: compassion, grace, patience, love, faithfulness, forgiveness, and justice).  So there it is, all the beautiful simplicity of truth, and pretty much impossible to do.  At least, I could spend the rest of my life trying to do it.  I probably will.

Care to join me?

*I realize that I may have become a little Italics-happy here.  It's just my inner Miss Climpson** showing through.
**A shout out to my fellow admirers of Lord Peter Wimsey.  You know who you are.

Just a little post-it note from the big ole TX

You may have gathered that my life is pretty nomadic at present.  I have to stop and think before I can answer common salutory questions.  It didn't used to be this complicated.

New Acquaintance: So, where are you from?
Me: Um... Can you be a little more specific?
NA: What?
Me: I mean, do you want to know where I was born?  California.  My permanent address is in Washington, but I spent the last school year in Guinea.  And even though I'm in Texas now, I'll be staying in the Canary Islands next month before I sail down to the Republic of Congo (not the Democratic Republic of the Congo, but the littler Congo just above it).
NA: Oh.  Where's Guinea?
Me: West Africa.
NA: That's cool... *awkward silence resulting from the fact that my new acquaintance can't think of another question to ask that won't lead to another long and complicated answer*

I'm borrowing a friend's laptop to write this entry.  (My dad gave me his Nook which can also connect to the internet, but it's a touchscreen--and the font is like the size of the fine print on a sketchy pill commercial--so I can check things, but writing stuff is a bit of a challenge.)  It's strange, but living in a dorm with twelve other women has not been nearly as challenging as I thought it would.  It's actually been rather fun.  I wonder sometimes if I wouldn't have made a great nun.  Hmm... I guess the Good Lord has his reasons.

This weekend I get to go to the mall (!) and then I'm going to see a movie in the theater (!), two things I pined for when I lived on the ship.  I don't know why malls suddenly make me happy.  They used to depress me.  Maybe I just like the prospect of hearing the delightful hum of English and Spanish being spoken all around me.  I really missed hearing Spanish.

And speaking of languages, I'd better get back to studying French, which is what I'm supposed to be doing on this computer.  :)

I'll write more as soon as I can.  Plus I have a surprise coming that will thrill and delight you all!

Letters from Texas, part 1

Imagine with me that you are a droplet of water tumbling through the rapids of some impressive river.  Careening off rocks and fallen trees, you bounce and bubble along.  Whatever is happening at the moment is so exciting and complex that you can't afford to think about what just happened a moment before.  Before you know it, you've gone over a massive waterfall, and all the water that was behind you is suddenly on top of you, pounding you under.  You'd be peeing your pants if you'd had any time to think about what's going on.  And then... the slow drift of the lake at the bottom.

That's what my summer vacation has been like so far.  Two days after graduation, I flew from Conakry to Seattle (via Dakar, Brussells, and Newark).  Two nights in Sammammish, one in Mount Vernon, and one in Seattle, and then off we went to Kaua'i for a week.  Thence to Ridgecrest.  Three church services, three trips to the pool, one to the movie theater, and a whole lot of spinach later, off I go again to the airport.  Now I am in Lindale, Texas, at Mercy Ships International Operations Center, and I can finally take a moment to process the great adventure that was my summer vacation.  It was a lot shorter than what I usually have (two and a half weeks instead of two and a half months), but I seem to have crammed a good summer's worth of visiting into it.  And it was lovely.  I'm sad that it's over, but I have a fresh appreciation for the wonderful relationships I have with my friends and family at home.  With all  the busy-ness of my Great African Adventure, I think I may have begun to take for granted all the things my friends and family have poured into me.  Also, I have to admit that a tiny part of my heart was afraid that all the wonderful people who helped make me who I am might have turned into strangers after a year of separation.  Happily, that was not the case.  I am so grateful for all of you!

Now that we've transitioned into the slow quiet of 'the lake at the bottom', I also have a bit of time to think about the future.  That part is a little bit scary.  Of course I have at least one more year of teaching on the Africa Mercy.  That's all settled.  But what to do after that?  I have no idea.  Several impossible ideas float through my mind.  I could teach at an international school, either in the US or abroad.  Having experienced the delicious chaos of West Africa, I am eager to see what the rest of the world is like.  Europe would be interesting indeed, and I do not want to leave this world without first having spent some real time in New Zealand.  I thoroughly enjoy teaching, but I'd like to try doing it in a university setting somewhere.  Only, I'd probably have to go back to school for that.  Going back to school is problematic, not just because of the funding issue (I'm still paying off those pesky school loans), but because I don't know whether I should throw myself into studying English, Linguistics, Counseling, International Relations, Law (that's out of left field, I know, but the thought has crossed my mind once or twice), or just go to Seminary.  The old dream of finding someone and making a family has not gone away either.  *sigh*  I have no answers.  I guess I'll just have to keep praying and see what opportunities come.  I just hope I'm bright enough to recognize the good ones.  Sometimes I get the feeling that my 'impossible ideas' aren't quite impossible enough.  Hmm...  Well, the Bible is full of dim characters whom God uses despite obvious flaws.  Maybe I can be one of those.

Well, the Gateway (a.k.a. On Boarding) program has officially begun.  That's why I'm in Texas at the moment.  Already, I've met some marvelous people from such exotic locales as Norway, Holland, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, and Portland.  East Texas is greener than I expected (I always thought Texas=Cowboys=wide open spaces and lots of dirt), and dreadfully bug-ridden.  Also, there are wild pigs (!).  The classes have been good so far, and not as redundant as I  thought they'd be, considering I've already lived on the ship.  Plus, the salads come with good ranch dressing (not that gross stuff-in-a-bottle, but the mix that my mom used to make).  All in all, I believe I'm just exactly where I need to be right now.  It will indeed be interesting to see what comes next.

I hope that your summers are shaping up to be just as interesting (in a good way)!