I probably didn't really make up this recipe. But I tasted a similiar version once and tried to re-create it on Saturday since we have an abundance of tomatoes and basil in the garden at the moment. If tomatoes are still in season in the States (I have no idea any more!), you should try it!
Tomato-Basil Fettucini
1 pkg. fettucini
6 cloves garlic, finely minced
1 small red onion, finely minced
1 handful fresh basic, finely chopped
1 cereal bowl full of chopped tomatoes (cherry tomatoes are the best)
1/3 cup olive oil
1/3 cup butter
salt and pepper
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
1. Boil water for pasta.
2. Chop up all the veggies.
3. Cook pasta.
4. Heat oil and butter in a skillet.
5. Cook garlic and onion in the skillet until tender. Cook on low heat and be careful not to let it burn.
6. When the garlic/onion mix is tender, take it off the heat and add tomatoes and basil to the hot pan. Let them sit for a minute while you spoon the butter/oil mixture over them.
7. When veggies are a bit wilted, dump everything into a big bowl and add the cooked pasta. Toss together. Add lots of salt and pepper.
P.S. I just want you to know that the fact that I was able to focus long enough to write down this recipe is a great testament to how yummy it was. I can't even remember where I put my glasses these days.
Monday, August 17, 2009
Friday, August 14, 2009
Just plain ol' MEAN
So, whether it's the fact that I'm pregnant, busy, tired of people, unbalanced, or just plain ol' mean: I have NOT been myself lately. I feel like I'm trying to teach lessons all over the show and make people understand their mistakes and why they're making them. All the while ignoring the things that I'm not doing in hopes no one will notice.
Maybe I haven't been walking around screaming at people. But in my head, I've been screaming. In my mind, I've been teaching lessons. In my thoughts, I've been judging people for the very things that I'm lacking in.
Quite a confession for a Friday morning. I know. The internet tends to listen pretty well. :)
So, I found a CD this morning (who listens to CDs anymore, right?) that I listened to constantly in college. (Beth and Jenn, you would recognize this RIGHT AWAY if you heard it...I probably tortured you with it for two years.) It struck me so sharply as I was working away at my computer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Who gave you the right to judge me?
Did we not come from the same seed?
Was it you who gave the sea it's boundaries?
Is it your wrath that could expose me?
We are set apart by one thing only...unfailing love...and I accept it.
Those who thought they were sowing wheat will reap thorns. You've become rich and powerful, fat and sleek. You're gonna fall backwards.
"Shaken"
by: Unspoken
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God forbid that I ever become so "rich and powerful" in my knowledge and ideas of how things should be done on the mission field that I start to judge others and fall backwards.
Instead, let me not forsake my first love:
"Seeking Jesus, His steps I measure. My eyes on Jesus, no thoughts of turning. He's got me wasted, I'm drunk in love with You."
"Thinkin' of You"
by: Unspoken
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't know if you've ever heard of Dr. Rodney Howard Browne. He's a pretty well known charismatic evangelist that is friends with our director Phil and the ministry. He came to visit the base this week and said (roughly) this about sharing the Gospel with people:
"We don't need discouraged people sharing the love of Christ. We don't need joyless, hopeless, pessimistic people sharing the love of Christ. We need joyful, free people. We need people who laugh and smile and who are not under a burden of religion."
How easy is it to get religious in our "service" for the kingdom. And how carefully we must guard against it!
Some old pictures:
Sunda when she was about 15 months old. Oh, how she has changed!
Me and the group of LIFE teachers that I work with and train on a regular basis.
Hope you have a lovely weekend!
Maybe I haven't been walking around screaming at people. But in my head, I've been screaming. In my mind, I've been teaching lessons. In my thoughts, I've been judging people for the very things that I'm lacking in.
Quite a confession for a Friday morning. I know. The internet tends to listen pretty well. :)
So, I found a CD this morning (who listens to CDs anymore, right?) that I listened to constantly in college. (Beth and Jenn, you would recognize this RIGHT AWAY if you heard it...I probably tortured you with it for two years.) It struck me so sharply as I was working away at my computer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Who gave you the right to judge me?
Did we not come from the same seed?
Was it you who gave the sea it's boundaries?
Is it your wrath that could expose me?
We are set apart by one thing only...unfailing love...and I accept it.
Those who thought they were sowing wheat will reap thorns. You've become rich and powerful, fat and sleek. You're gonna fall backwards.
"Shaken"
by: Unspoken
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God forbid that I ever become so "rich and powerful" in my knowledge and ideas of how things should be done on the mission field that I start to judge others and fall backwards.
Instead, let me not forsake my first love:
"Seeking Jesus, His steps I measure. My eyes on Jesus, no thoughts of turning. He's got me wasted, I'm drunk in love with You."
"Thinkin' of You"
by: Unspoken
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I don't know if you've ever heard of Dr. Rodney Howard Browne. He's a pretty well known charismatic evangelist that is friends with our director Phil and the ministry. He came to visit the base this week and said (roughly) this about sharing the Gospel with people:
"We don't need discouraged people sharing the love of Christ. We don't need joyless, hopeless, pessimistic people sharing the love of Christ. We need joyful, free people. We need people who laugh and smile and who are not under a burden of religion."
How easy is it to get religious in our "service" for the kingdom. And how carefully we must guard against it!
Some old pictures:
Sunda when she was about 15 months old. Oh, how she has changed!
Me and the group of LIFE teachers that I work with and train on a regular basis.
Hope you have a lovely weekend!
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Just Trying to Get a Coke!
One of the lesser known facts and definite benefits of living in Zambia is definitely the Coke. Zambian Cokes are made with real cane sugar instead of corn syrup, and they come in glass bottles instead of out of a can, bottle, or fountain. People who don’t even drink Coke drink Coke in Zambia. It’s just better here.
The problem is that sometimes it’s hard to find Cokes in town. There have even been months during our stay here that we have experienced a major Coke shortage. (Gasp! Boo! Hiss!) Those times have been dark and discouraging, but we’ve pulled out okay. Just making sacrifices for the Kingdom ;)
The way you get hold of the Cokes is to buy a crate with 24 glass bottles inside. You pay for the crate and the soft drinks that are inside, and then you take all of it home. When you’ve finished the drinks and replaced the glass bottles, you take the crate back to town and exchange it for a filled one from one of several vendors in Livingstone. The crates themselves cost about $10, but the refill on an exchanged crate is only K40,000, or about 40 cents a Coke. You can get other Coke products if the vendor offers them, the most common being Sprite or Fanta.
Now, you would be showing your lack of experience in any third world country if you thought that you could just go to the same place that you buy your bread and milk to stock up on Cokes. No ma’am. We in Zambia have separate buildings where we sell Cokes. Separate Coke warehouses, if you will. These warehouses are usually delicately placed in a dark, narrow alley where the flatbed Coke truck piled precariously high with clanging and swishing bottles is parked. Or, even better, they are placed right smack dab in the middle of a busy street where nobody with any sense would park if they valued their paint job (And we definitely don’t take the paint jobs too seriously, so this is not too big of a problem.)
Today (Friday), I had the pleasure of refilling 3 cases of Coke for a function that we are having here at the base this weekend. The Livingstone Coke shortage is looking to be in action this month, and all of the vendors are quickly running out of stock. In desperation, I went to the place with the longest queue (line): Standard Sales.
Once inside Standard Sales, I had to quickly evaluate something: Is this worth my time? Normally, the answer to that question would be: Absolutely not. The answer would especially be no if I had reminded myself that I am actually not really drinking Cokes at the moment due to the whole “I’m-pregnant-and-trying-not-to-drink-caffeine” thing. (I really am trying, people…) However, I knew that the benefactors of these Cokes were to be our Zambian staff. We’re holding a staff picnic and Appreciation Day on Sunday and there will be Cokes all ‘round. So, I felt pretty selfish walking out just because of a long line. So the saga continued… (Are you tired of it yet? I am.)
I waited in a pile of people and pushed toward the counter to gain the attention of a man who was appropriately titled, “The Man in Charge.” He was begging for people to be patient with him, they were ignoring his pleas, and he was obviously becoming very overwhelmed with the thought of continuing to be the Man in Charge. I waited and pushed, pushed and waited, for about 20 minutes before getting to place my order: “TWO COKES AND ONE SPRITE!” I yelled over the din. He wrote it down, slowly. “What’s the name? “ He asks. Oh geez. Here we go. “JESSI.” I yell. “Justine?” He asks. “YES!” I immediately affirmed. Whatever. I’ll be whoever you want me to be. Just get me some Cokes already.
I pushed my way back out of the pile of people and into another line. Oh, you thought that was it, didn’t you? No ways you get Cokes that easily, my friend. I waited in the payment line for a few minutes, receipt and money in hand. I paid the lady behind the glassed in counter (we’re not jokin’ around with the security at the Coke warehouse.) She leisurely wrote down my receipt number and my payment and stamped the receipt, directing me to a third line. I waited in the third line, was recorded and stamped by the man behind the desk, and seriously considered pulling out my hair. I then waited for the Man in Charge to recognize that I had a receipt in my hand. When he did notice me, my receipt was stacked with the rest of the orders being filled. I waited for a few more minutes as cases of Coke, Sprite, and beer flew past my feet on the way to their owners. (Don’t be confused about the beers. Even though Cokes are delicious and popular in Zambia, a place with this much of a crowd is a full-on drinks distributor.) Finally, the Man in Charge yelled out, “JUSTINE!” That’s me! I rushed to get my order. I quickly realized that I couldn’t carry 3 full cases. I called for my 2 friends. We then rushed out of that place as fast as possible. End of story.
I don’t know how long the whole thing took, but I do know that my friends that were with me actually had license plates made for their vehicle in the time that I was in the Standard Sales. Oh my.
Get this. I’m not even drinking an icy cold Sprite right now because all of the cases got unloaded at the main center and I chose to write this post instead of dragging myself back to the main center to get one. This has been therapeutic though. Maybe I can pretend like it was worth it, just for the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Happy Saturday! We’ve got a birthday party today and a cookout afterwards. We’re headed out into Nyawa for a Women’s Conference on Monday and will stay through Wednesday. After that we’ll greet a team who will be here for the next month doing a building project. And when they go home…so do we! We’ll see you so soon it’s like we’re just here on vacation! HA!
The problem is that sometimes it’s hard to find Cokes in town. There have even been months during our stay here that we have experienced a major Coke shortage. (Gasp! Boo! Hiss!) Those times have been dark and discouraging, but we’ve pulled out okay. Just making sacrifices for the Kingdom ;)
The way you get hold of the Cokes is to buy a crate with 24 glass bottles inside. You pay for the crate and the soft drinks that are inside, and then you take all of it home. When you’ve finished the drinks and replaced the glass bottles, you take the crate back to town and exchange it for a filled one from one of several vendors in Livingstone. The crates themselves cost about $10, but the refill on an exchanged crate is only K40,000, or about 40 cents a Coke. You can get other Coke products if the vendor offers them, the most common being Sprite or Fanta.
Now, you would be showing your lack of experience in any third world country if you thought that you could just go to the same place that you buy your bread and milk to stock up on Cokes. No ma’am. We in Zambia have separate buildings where we sell Cokes. Separate Coke warehouses, if you will. These warehouses are usually delicately placed in a dark, narrow alley where the flatbed Coke truck piled precariously high with clanging and swishing bottles is parked. Or, even better, they are placed right smack dab in the middle of a busy street where nobody with any sense would park if they valued their paint job (And we definitely don’t take the paint jobs too seriously, so this is not too big of a problem.)
Today (Friday), I had the pleasure of refilling 3 cases of Coke for a function that we are having here at the base this weekend. The Livingstone Coke shortage is looking to be in action this month, and all of the vendors are quickly running out of stock. In desperation, I went to the place with the longest queue (line): Standard Sales.
Once inside Standard Sales, I had to quickly evaluate something: Is this worth my time? Normally, the answer to that question would be: Absolutely not. The answer would especially be no if I had reminded myself that I am actually not really drinking Cokes at the moment due to the whole “I’m-pregnant-and-trying-not-to-drink-caffeine” thing. (I really am trying, people…) However, I knew that the benefactors of these Cokes were to be our Zambian staff. We’re holding a staff picnic and Appreciation Day on Sunday and there will be Cokes all ‘round. So, I felt pretty selfish walking out just because of a long line. So the saga continued… (Are you tired of it yet? I am.)
I waited in a pile of people and pushed toward the counter to gain the attention of a man who was appropriately titled, “The Man in Charge.” He was begging for people to be patient with him, they were ignoring his pleas, and he was obviously becoming very overwhelmed with the thought of continuing to be the Man in Charge. I waited and pushed, pushed and waited, for about 20 minutes before getting to place my order: “TWO COKES AND ONE SPRITE!” I yelled over the din. He wrote it down, slowly. “What’s the name? “ He asks. Oh geez. Here we go. “JESSI.” I yell. “Justine?” He asks. “YES!” I immediately affirmed. Whatever. I’ll be whoever you want me to be. Just get me some Cokes already.
I pushed my way back out of the pile of people and into another line. Oh, you thought that was it, didn’t you? No ways you get Cokes that easily, my friend. I waited in the payment line for a few minutes, receipt and money in hand. I paid the lady behind the glassed in counter (we’re not jokin’ around with the security at the Coke warehouse.) She leisurely wrote down my receipt number and my payment and stamped the receipt, directing me to a third line. I waited in the third line, was recorded and stamped by the man behind the desk, and seriously considered pulling out my hair. I then waited for the Man in Charge to recognize that I had a receipt in my hand. When he did notice me, my receipt was stacked with the rest of the orders being filled. I waited for a few more minutes as cases of Coke, Sprite, and beer flew past my feet on the way to their owners. (Don’t be confused about the beers. Even though Cokes are delicious and popular in Zambia, a place with this much of a crowd is a full-on drinks distributor.) Finally, the Man in Charge yelled out, “JUSTINE!” That’s me! I rushed to get my order. I quickly realized that I couldn’t carry 3 full cases. I called for my 2 friends. We then rushed out of that place as fast as possible. End of story.
I don’t know how long the whole thing took, but I do know that my friends that were with me actually had license plates made for their vehicle in the time that I was in the Standard Sales. Oh my.
Get this. I’m not even drinking an icy cold Sprite right now because all of the cases got unloaded at the main center and I chose to write this post instead of dragging myself back to the main center to get one. This has been therapeutic though. Maybe I can pretend like it was worth it, just for the story.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Happy Saturday! We’ve got a birthday party today and a cookout afterwards. We’re headed out into Nyawa for a Women’s Conference on Monday and will stay through Wednesday. After that we’ll greet a team who will be here for the next month doing a building project. And when they go home…so do we! We’ll see you so soon it’s like we’re just here on vacation! HA!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
There's A Good Reason For This!
Okay, I can’t take it anymore.
We’ve been trying to wait.
Okay, we haven’t been trying that hard.
There may still be 3 or 4 people on the planet who don’t know.
And you may be one of them.
We're havin' a baabbbyyyyy!
I was waiting to blog about it until I was 12 weeks (Or, out of the first trimester for those who aren't counting their life in weeks like obsessive pregnant women.)
However, at my first ultrasound today we found out I am actually 13 weeks along, which qualifies for legal blog publishing...I believe.
YAYYYY!
Jake and I have been hoping and waiting for a baby for a while now and are so excited to give Sunda a little brother or sister. Obviously, the details of being pregnant and having a baby are a bit more complicated when you live in a 3rd world country. So, we’ve been spending a lot of time reading, researching, praying, and considering our options.
We will be traveling home in September to do our annual furlough and support raising. It will be a shorter trip this time because we have to get back on that long flight before I get too big to take it!
We have decided to have the baby in South Africa. A beautiful clinic and midwife are already in the works.
We’re also SO excited about the fact that both of our families have decided to travel to Zambia to visit lil’ baby Schwertzy soon after he/she is born. My mom is coming very soon after the baby comes, and Jake’s family is coming in March. (I’m due at the end of January.) We knew there’d have to be something drastic to get them here, and it looks like we’re hit the jackpot on this one!
Like I said, I got my first ultrasound today and it was such a miracle to watch this little BABY moving and kicking and somersaulting around. The tech said, “Can you FEEL that?” I said, “No!” She said, “Don’t worry, you will…very soon.”
Sunda loves the idea that there is a baby in mommy's tummy and will occasionally ask: "Mama, that baby come out yet?" Not yet, Sunda...but are you in for a surprise when it does!"
I have felt pretty strong during this first part, and would humbly admit that it has definitely been an "easy" pregnancy so far. I'm grateful for that, although I'm wondering if I should start taking better advantage of the best excuse there is to have an afternoon nap.
Goodnight for now, friends. Thanks for being so patient about such a long wait.
(I mean really, WHAT was I going to talk about if I couldn't tell you I was preggers?)
We’ve been trying to wait.
Okay, we haven’t been trying that hard.
There may still be 3 or 4 people on the planet who don’t know.
And you may be one of them.
We're havin' a baabbbyyyyy!
I was waiting to blog about it until I was 12 weeks (Or, out of the first trimester for those who aren't counting their life in weeks like obsessive pregnant women.)
However, at my first ultrasound today we found out I am actually 13 weeks along, which qualifies for legal blog publishing...I believe.
YAYYYY!
Jake and I have been hoping and waiting for a baby for a while now and are so excited to give Sunda a little brother or sister. Obviously, the details of being pregnant and having a baby are a bit more complicated when you live in a 3rd world country. So, we’ve been spending a lot of time reading, researching, praying, and considering our options.
We will be traveling home in September to do our annual furlough and support raising. It will be a shorter trip this time because we have to get back on that long flight before I get too big to take it!
We have decided to have the baby in South Africa. A beautiful clinic and midwife are already in the works.
We’re also SO excited about the fact that both of our families have decided to travel to Zambia to visit lil’ baby Schwertzy soon after he/she is born. My mom is coming very soon after the baby comes, and Jake’s family is coming in March. (I’m due at the end of January.) We knew there’d have to be something drastic to get them here, and it looks like we’re hit the jackpot on this one!
Like I said, I got my first ultrasound today and it was such a miracle to watch this little BABY moving and kicking and somersaulting around. The tech said, “Can you FEEL that?” I said, “No!” She said, “Don’t worry, you will…very soon.”
Sunda loves the idea that there is a baby in mommy's tummy and will occasionally ask: "Mama, that baby come out yet?" Not yet, Sunda...but are you in for a surprise when it does!"
I have felt pretty strong during this first part, and would humbly admit that it has definitely been an "easy" pregnancy so far. I'm grateful for that, although I'm wondering if I should start taking better advantage of the best excuse there is to have an afternoon nap.
Goodnight for now, friends. Thanks for being so patient about such a long wait.
(I mean really, WHAT was I going to talk about if I couldn't tell you I was preggers?)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Not MIA...
...just contemplating LIFE
This title has a double meaning because of course I’ve been contemplating Life, as in the life I live. (Or rather, I’ve just been trying to keep up with it.) But, I’m also working mainly with the LIFE Project right now (LIFE stands for Living In Family Environments). We always joke that we have so many acronyms in this ministry that we might as well be the military. Let me just give you a few: We got our AMs working over the CLLs, who manage the LCFs and the LCAs. Clear as mud. Right?
On to similarly uninteresting and just as menial things:
I have to make a confession. Sometimes I really struggle with the things that I’m not. It’s like I have this picture in my head of everything that a good woman or a good mother does. And there are so many of those things that I can’t even begin to comprehend doing. For example:
I’m not a gardener. I have never had any use for planting flowers or growing things. When I was a kid, we used to plant tomato plants and flowers and things every spring. So, I know how to do it. My mom loves that stuff. I’ve never had any use for it. I mean, I appreciate it. I love having a garden. I love fresh veggies and lovely flowers. I just can never seem to get the motivation to learn the names of plants and actually plant any in my places of residence.
I’m not a sewer. Again, my mom is a brilliant seamstress. I never learned. I think I burned up a sewing machine or two in home ec class. I mean, I can sew on a button or fix a seam. But, when it comes to sewing machines, I’m basically worthless.
I’m not an athlete. Sure, I occasionally like to do yoga and tai-bo and such. I may even go for a (painfully slow) run every once in awhile. But I’m not the athlete that my dad and two brothers are. Nope. Not at all. I think I sometimes surprise people when it turns out I am actually slightly more athletically capable than they expected me to be. This is probably because I have grown up around athletes my whole life and then married one. I pretty much know all the rules and theory and may have actually learned a few things by osmosis. But, I hate being hurt and I hate knocking into people. This pretty much rules out every sport I’ve ever played.
I’m not a shopper. Lord help me, I don’t like to shop. Not for clothes. Not for home décor. Not for electronic equipment. Rarely even for Christmas presents. However, I love shopping for food. Let me loose in a Whole Foods or a Farmer’s Market and watch me go. Everything else, I can do without.
I’m not a scrapbooker. My best friend, Jenn, tried to get me into scrapbooking while we were home over the holidays. She’s so diligent and encouraging that I was almost converted, just so that I could spend more time with her. But that’s my only motivation. Time with my best friend. Left to my own devices, my children will have their childhoods chronicled in approximately 100 pictures from birth until graduation. Probably 85 of those pictures will be random artistic shots of obscure moments and forgotten memories. Only 15 will be from events that actually needed to be documented. I still only have about 2 of my wedding pictures printed and framed. ‘Nuff said.
I’m not a motorcycle rider. This has come up recently because Jake rides his motorbike a lot and it would be nice if I had the guts to learn and go with him. He tried to teach me last year. I almost ran into the side of the building. Now, he’s glad that I don’t want to learn because he’d rather me be in one piece. (Somewhere, my dad is reading this and thinking the same thing.) Anyway, riding a motorcycle kind of just increases that possibility of getting hurt and knocking into stuff. Two things I don’t like to do.
So anyway, I’m not a lot of things. Not a gardener, or sewer, or athlete, or shopper, or scrapbooker. These are things that people DO. For FUN. Why don’t I really enjoy any of them? I mean, okay, if you invite me to go shopping with you, I’ll probably go. But because it’s with you. And because there’s a chance that we may run into a Barnes and Noble and a coffee shop.
For some reason, I really struggle when I’m not everything. Do you do that too? Does it bother you when you can’t say that you fall into a group of people who seem to have it together enough to plant a garden, crochet a scarf, run a 5K, find a great deal, and document it all in a beautifully scalloped edge scrapbook? It bothers me. I know, right. Get over it.
So, as I’m hitting my “mid-twenties” (GASP!) I’m realizing that I need to just be okay with who I am and what I like to do. To actually be grateful for who God made me to be and to “boast in my weaknesses.” And stop worrying about who I’m not and trying to make myself like things just because other people like them. Here’s what I do like:
I love to make music. Any kind of music. I like to make music with Sunda. I like to make music in Zambian church. I like to sing to Jesus alone in the car. I love to stand in a 200 person choir and sing the “Hallelujah Chorus.”
I love to teach. Anything. And not just formally. Don’t know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich? It is the delight of my heart to break it down into manageable steps for you. I know. I’m a complete nerd. I’m especially great at butting in to teach things where it’s completely unnecessary for me to teach them. People can learn things on their own. In fact, people were doing it for generations before I was even born. I’m getting better at keeping my mouth shut.
I love to read. The Bible. Fiction. History books. Children’s books. Ridiculous magazines. The back of shampoo bottles. Encyclopedias. It’s ridiculous. Reading is like a drug for me. When I settle down and really start reading, I feel this amazing sense of calm come over me. My absolute favorite thing to do is to be near anyone I love and read a book. In one sitting. (They don’t have to be reading a book for this to work, as Jacob will tell you. He often watches soccer, rugby, or 24 as I read. I count it as quality time. I don’t know if it really does count.) I love to read so much that when people say, “Yeah, I’m not a big book person.” I honestly think, “Really? Then what do you do to relax?” Well, Jessi…probably any one of the above activities that you are absolutely unskilled in.
I love to talk. A big surprise to most of you, right? Hahaha. I’ve been kind of dreading everyone coming back to the base and it getting really busy here. Not because I don’t like the people being around, but rather because I just get so distracted by so many people to talk to. I find myself getting less done. Getting Sunda in bed later. Now, if I could only figure out how to talk and read at the same time…oh wait…I think that’s why I also like to write.
Thanks for reading my nonsense (if anyone out there still does, being that I tend to disappear for months at a time.)
This title has a double meaning because of course I’ve been contemplating Life, as in the life I live. (Or rather, I’ve just been trying to keep up with it.) But, I’m also working mainly with the LIFE Project right now (LIFE stands for Living In Family Environments). We always joke that we have so many acronyms in this ministry that we might as well be the military. Let me just give you a few: We got our AMs working over the CLLs, who manage the LCFs and the LCAs. Clear as mud. Right?
On to similarly uninteresting and just as menial things:
I have to make a confession. Sometimes I really struggle with the things that I’m not. It’s like I have this picture in my head of everything that a good woman or a good mother does. And there are so many of those things that I can’t even begin to comprehend doing. For example:
I’m not a gardener. I have never had any use for planting flowers or growing things. When I was a kid, we used to plant tomato plants and flowers and things every spring. So, I know how to do it. My mom loves that stuff. I’ve never had any use for it. I mean, I appreciate it. I love having a garden. I love fresh veggies and lovely flowers. I just can never seem to get the motivation to learn the names of plants and actually plant any in my places of residence.
I’m not a sewer. Again, my mom is a brilliant seamstress. I never learned. I think I burned up a sewing machine or two in home ec class. I mean, I can sew on a button or fix a seam. But, when it comes to sewing machines, I’m basically worthless.
I’m not an athlete. Sure, I occasionally like to do yoga and tai-bo and such. I may even go for a (painfully slow) run every once in awhile. But I’m not the athlete that my dad and two brothers are. Nope. Not at all. I think I sometimes surprise people when it turns out I am actually slightly more athletically capable than they expected me to be. This is probably because I have grown up around athletes my whole life and then married one. I pretty much know all the rules and theory and may have actually learned a few things by osmosis. But, I hate being hurt and I hate knocking into people. This pretty much rules out every sport I’ve ever played.
I’m not a shopper. Lord help me, I don’t like to shop. Not for clothes. Not for home décor. Not for electronic equipment. Rarely even for Christmas presents. However, I love shopping for food. Let me loose in a Whole Foods or a Farmer’s Market and watch me go. Everything else, I can do without.
I’m not a scrapbooker. My best friend, Jenn, tried to get me into scrapbooking while we were home over the holidays. She’s so diligent and encouraging that I was almost converted, just so that I could spend more time with her. But that’s my only motivation. Time with my best friend. Left to my own devices, my children will have their childhoods chronicled in approximately 100 pictures from birth until graduation. Probably 85 of those pictures will be random artistic shots of obscure moments and forgotten memories. Only 15 will be from events that actually needed to be documented. I still only have about 2 of my wedding pictures printed and framed. ‘Nuff said.
I’m not a motorcycle rider. This has come up recently because Jake rides his motorbike a lot and it would be nice if I had the guts to learn and go with him. He tried to teach me last year. I almost ran into the side of the building. Now, he’s glad that I don’t want to learn because he’d rather me be in one piece. (Somewhere, my dad is reading this and thinking the same thing.) Anyway, riding a motorcycle kind of just increases that possibility of getting hurt and knocking into stuff. Two things I don’t like to do.
So anyway, I’m not a lot of things. Not a gardener, or sewer, or athlete, or shopper, or scrapbooker. These are things that people DO. For FUN. Why don’t I really enjoy any of them? I mean, okay, if you invite me to go shopping with you, I’ll probably go. But because it’s with you. And because there’s a chance that we may run into a Barnes and Noble and a coffee shop.
For some reason, I really struggle when I’m not everything. Do you do that too? Does it bother you when you can’t say that you fall into a group of people who seem to have it together enough to plant a garden, crochet a scarf, run a 5K, find a great deal, and document it all in a beautifully scalloped edge scrapbook? It bothers me. I know, right. Get over it.
So, as I’m hitting my “mid-twenties” (GASP!) I’m realizing that I need to just be okay with who I am and what I like to do. To actually be grateful for who God made me to be and to “boast in my weaknesses.” And stop worrying about who I’m not and trying to make myself like things just because other people like them. Here’s what I do like:
I love to make music. Any kind of music. I like to make music with Sunda. I like to make music in Zambian church. I like to sing to Jesus alone in the car. I love to stand in a 200 person choir and sing the “Hallelujah Chorus.”
I love to teach. Anything. And not just formally. Don’t know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich? It is the delight of my heart to break it down into manageable steps for you. I know. I’m a complete nerd. I’m especially great at butting in to teach things where it’s completely unnecessary for me to teach them. People can learn things on their own. In fact, people were doing it for generations before I was even born. I’m getting better at keeping my mouth shut.
I love to read. The Bible. Fiction. History books. Children’s books. Ridiculous magazines. The back of shampoo bottles. Encyclopedias. It’s ridiculous. Reading is like a drug for me. When I settle down and really start reading, I feel this amazing sense of calm come over me. My absolute favorite thing to do is to be near anyone I love and read a book. In one sitting. (They don’t have to be reading a book for this to work, as Jacob will tell you. He often watches soccer, rugby, or 24 as I read. I count it as quality time. I don’t know if it really does count.) I love to read so much that when people say, “Yeah, I’m not a big book person.” I honestly think, “Really? Then what do you do to relax?” Well, Jessi…probably any one of the above activities that you are absolutely unskilled in.
I love to talk. A big surprise to most of you, right? Hahaha. I’ve been kind of dreading everyone coming back to the base and it getting really busy here. Not because I don’t like the people being around, but rather because I just get so distracted by so many people to talk to. I find myself getting less done. Getting Sunda in bed later. Now, if I could only figure out how to talk and read at the same time…oh wait…I think that’s why I also like to write.
Thanks for reading my nonsense (if anyone out there still does, being that I tend to disappear for months at a time.)
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