"Sure, let's go down to the closest pueblo. It's not a long run," Amanda and Becky said as we started our thirty minutes of jogging after school on Wednesday. I threw in my headphones and was ready to let off a bit of steam from a crazy day with students.
Maybe my focus was off, or maybe my focus was too much on the music. Either way, I ignored the two stray dogs with their owner ahead. I must note: I have been thoroughly warned concerning stray dogs in Bolivia. Some come with rabies vaccinations, many live their whole life without them. They are territorial and scare easily. These truths became far more of a reality to me as I nonchalantly ran past the large black and small white dog. I barely even remember the three seconds which passed between my first step near the dogs and the moment when they had surrounded me barking. Quickly, I was made aware of the black dog's aggression as he came up behind me and bit me....yes... on the butt.
I'm sure my intense scream did not help the tension of the moment, but remaining calm in this situation was next to impossible. Of course, bending down...thus decreasing the space between my face and the dog's...was absolutely not an option. Finally, after some wiggling and uncontrollable waving of my arms, the dogs' owner called them away.
After the initial pain of the bite deadened a bit, the jokes and anticipation for my foaming at the mouth began. It turns out, doctors don't easily give out rabies shots, or at least not for a cheap price. On top of this, the vaccination requires a marvelous series of 10 shots. We found the nearest (40 minutes away) free health clinic and I decided that salvation from possible rabies surpassed any fear of the horror movie-like clinic we entered after school yesterday.
So now, the dilemma of finding the dog, its owner, and any possible paperwork faces me. If I can't seem to run into the dog (one of the thousands in Bolivia), I will be looking forward to a week and a half of minibus trips to the city. But life without ravenous mouth foaming is worth-it, right? I would say so.
I dedicate this blog to Scott Frost who has found great pleasure in reminding me of and sharing this story as much as possible.
Also, the new motto of the year: When life gets ahold of you, turn the other cheek.
Friday, August 26, 2011
Monday, August 22, 2011
Oh to see again, differently.
After a few hours, the hike was getting tougher and our legs, more tired. My friend Amanda and I had just spent our entire Saturday morning making the trek from our town to what the tourists call the "Muela del Diablo"....or "Devil's tooth". Yet, as we exited what seems to be more of the "city" and ascended the nearby mountain, I remember making the comment multiple times, "Wow. When I used to think of Bolivia, this is what I would think of." With mountains of rocks and dirt surrounding us, the call of the sheep, goats, and cows led us to the top of the sharp-edged rocks jutting out of the countryside. Of course, the view from the Muela almost seemed to place the huge city of La Paz in our little hands, almost nothing more than our possession of some cinnamon toast crunch in our morning cereal bowl. Glorious.
I needed this. My soul needed the wild. My body needed a release of endorphins. Yet, above all these things, I needed a change of perspective.
After two weeks of school and a few more weeks in La Paz, it was too easy to find myself spending my free time dwelling on my circumstances. It is tough to leave the community I had in the states which knew me fairly well. As an introvert, every time I am presented with a new group to hang out with, I am faced with the hard work ahead of building those relationships and that ministry. And of course, sometimes lesson plans do not seem very "fun" in the category of serving my kids and my school.
Faithfully, God found ways of getting my attention through a view on top of a mountain and even through a night of hot chocolate and sleeping out under the stars on the patio. When things are quiet and I am still before God, I realize that only He can cast out my fear of what my future days here will bring. He not only casts it out, but He gently replaces it with His perfect love. This perfect love fills my mornings with purpose. This perfect love fills my days with stamina. This perfect love fills my evenings with grace. Because His perfect love casts out all fear. With fear out of the way, I feel as if seeing clearly just gets a bit easier.
I needed this. My soul needed the wild. My body needed a release of endorphins. Yet, above all these things, I needed a change of perspective.
After two weeks of school and a few more weeks in La Paz, it was too easy to find myself spending my free time dwelling on my circumstances. It is tough to leave the community I had in the states which knew me fairly well. As an introvert, every time I am presented with a new group to hang out with, I am faced with the hard work ahead of building those relationships and that ministry. And of course, sometimes lesson plans do not seem very "fun" in the category of serving my kids and my school.
Faithfully, God found ways of getting my attention through a view on top of a mountain and even through a night of hot chocolate and sleeping out under the stars on the patio. When things are quiet and I am still before God, I realize that only He can cast out my fear of what my future days here will bring. He not only casts it out, but He gently replaces it with His perfect love. This perfect love fills my mornings with purpose. This perfect love fills my days with stamina. This perfect love fills my evenings with grace. Because His perfect love casts out all fear. With fear out of the way, I feel as if seeing clearly just gets a bit easier.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Real? Really?
When people discuss the process of leaving the university and entering the "real world", I believe they are referring to the process of getting a steady job, a steady paycheck, and living on your own. I guess I decided this was too simple of a step, and proceeded to leave a few of those out while adding the "moving across the world" and "figuring everything out all over again, from grocery shopping to laundry" to make the change seem more exciting and worthy.
I have entered the "real world". I believe the art to smoothly entering this secret passageway which everyone talks about is yet to truly be discovered. Rather, I enjoy being thrown right in. For example, after getting a horrible stomach bug the first day of school, the "real world" told me I had to leave school and walk ten minutes across town to track down some antibiotics while feeling like I could pass out, all while wishing my mom had been present to do this for me. More so, the "real world" reminded me that showing up late to work would be unacceptable, and avoiding this would require a 5:15am wake up call...get this...every. single. day. This is when I kindly want to tell the "real world" to shut up. :)
Really, I had a great first week of school. I officially feel like being a teacher with real responsibilities. Yet, despite the drudgery of some of those responsibilities, it is nothing but rewarding to watch the children walk in your room with a smile and an attempt to describe how they are feeling in a language possibly so foreign to them.
Thus, rewards come in different forms. One form happens to be reading the tests many of the intermediate level English students must take. One boy in older elementary had just gotten word that his class had left for recess just as he had begun his writing segment for his test. With frustration as well as amusement, he rapidly finished a story about some hikers seeking out an "x" in the woods...."And when they found the "x", it said "secret passage." Then, they realized it was a hospital. Only, let me tell you, these weren't doctors. These were orgs! (I assumed he had meant to spell "ogres.") I still wonder what type of tv he has been watching. Anyway...
So, dear "real world", I welcome the invitation to be a part today. Only, please speak quietly and let me move slowly. In fact, feel free to send me any rewards you have to offer.
I have entered the "real world". I believe the art to smoothly entering this secret passageway which everyone talks about is yet to truly be discovered. Rather, I enjoy being thrown right in. For example, after getting a horrible stomach bug the first day of school, the "real world" told me I had to leave school and walk ten minutes across town to track down some antibiotics while feeling like I could pass out, all while wishing my mom had been present to do this for me. More so, the "real world" reminded me that showing up late to work would be unacceptable, and avoiding this would require a 5:15am wake up call...get this...every. single. day. This is when I kindly want to tell the "real world" to shut up. :)
Really, I had a great first week of school. I officially feel like being a teacher with real responsibilities. Yet, despite the drudgery of some of those responsibilities, it is nothing but rewarding to watch the children walk in your room with a smile and an attempt to describe how they are feeling in a language possibly so foreign to them.
Thus, rewards come in different forms. One form happens to be reading the tests many of the intermediate level English students must take. One boy in older elementary had just gotten word that his class had left for recess just as he had begun his writing segment for his test. With frustration as well as amusement, he rapidly finished a story about some hikers seeking out an "x" in the woods...."And when they found the "x", it said "secret passage." Then, they realized it was a hospital. Only, let me tell you, these weren't doctors. These were orgs! (I assumed he had meant to spell "ogres.") I still wonder what type of tv he has been watching. Anyway...
So, dear "real world", I welcome the invitation to be a part today. Only, please speak quietly and let me move slowly. In fact, feel free to send me any rewards you have to offer.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Oh, that You would reign
By adding up the events of previous blogs, I believe it will be easy to convey the overwhelming sense of reality which has been knocking on my door each morning as I wake up and face new life here.
I love it here, I really do. I love climbing up a hill, as I did on Saturday, and being able to see the southern part of La Paz as a whole. With a view such as this, I believe I can almost feel the very heartbeat of God as it falls over the city.
Yet, I must admit, as I stood in church this morning singing the words, "Take your place here, God," I was hit with the emotion of all that has happened over the past few weeks. Grieving over the loss of the physical presence of my Grandmother and not being able to stand alongside my family through it all, realizing I am a foreigner yet again and will be faced with that for months to come, knowing I have responsibilities at a job in which I have been called to disciple little children with the goal of excellence as the Lord would have me to....it is a lot to process.
So, when I cry out to God and ask Him to take His place, I am in essence asking Him to sit back on the very throne which I, in my selfishness, have stolen from Him through the sin in my life. What I was reminded of is this: God has His place here in La Paz. He was, is, and will always be. He has been working here and will continue to do so, in order that hearts may know Him and He may be glorified. What is even more humbling is the fact that He invites me into this work. I may have come here with a made up agenda to conquer the world, but He simply invites me to come along and be about my Father's work here.
In all of this, I believe His purposes are not limited. He can work through me while simultaneously working in me, becoming King and Master of the things in my life that I have not let Him reign over. I cannot think of a better thing today than to be a part of the kingdom of the King of kings and Lord of lords. "Father, have your way in me. Be King over my life. Reign in my heart, and reign in Bolivia. You deserve all glory, honor, and praise. Amen."
I love it here, I really do. I love climbing up a hill, as I did on Saturday, and being able to see the southern part of La Paz as a whole. With a view such as this, I believe I can almost feel the very heartbeat of God as it falls over the city.
Yet, I must admit, as I stood in church this morning singing the words, "Take your place here, God," I was hit with the emotion of all that has happened over the past few weeks. Grieving over the loss of the physical presence of my Grandmother and not being able to stand alongside my family through it all, realizing I am a foreigner yet again and will be faced with that for months to come, knowing I have responsibilities at a job in which I have been called to disciple little children with the goal of excellence as the Lord would have me to....it is a lot to process.
So, when I cry out to God and ask Him to take His place, I am in essence asking Him to sit back on the very throne which I, in my selfishness, have stolen from Him through the sin in my life. What I was reminded of is this: God has His place here in La Paz. He was, is, and will always be. He has been working here and will continue to do so, in order that hearts may know Him and He may be glorified. What is even more humbling is the fact that He invites me into this work. I may have come here with a made up agenda to conquer the world, but He simply invites me to come along and be about my Father's work here.
In all of this, I believe His purposes are not limited. He can work through me while simultaneously working in me, becoming King and Master of the things in my life that I have not let Him reign over. I cannot think of a better thing today than to be a part of the kingdom of the King of kings and Lord of lords. "Father, have your way in me. Be King over my life. Reign in my heart, and reign in Bolivia. You deserve all glory, honor, and praise. Amen."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)