Namaste

Namaste: My soul honors your soul. I honor the love, light, beauty, truth, and kindness within you because it is also within me. In sharing these things there is no distance and no difference between us. We are the same. We are one.

This is how you say hello and goodbye in Nepali language. With every person you meet, you are saying "I see you as God's child, just like me." I love this so much. I found this to be such a good representation of our Nepal adventure.

The people of Nepal have seen more than their share of hardship. Less than one year ago, the earthquake that hit central Nepal killed more than 8000 people, totally devastating some entire villages. Every person we met had an earthquake story to tell. One told us he was out trekking and had to run to find shelter in a cave. Over the next week as he tried to get back to the city he was without any food. Another told us of the primary school that collapsed. He spent more than a month sending food and water into a crevice to try to feed the children that remained trapped below the rubble. Even now, the damage is obvious. Buildings lay in crumbles, houses have lost walls, some roads are impassable.

Besides the natural disaster they've weathered, even more hardships exist. An electricity shortage in the country leaves most buildings with power for only about 8 hours a day. We became used to sudden power outages and even luxury hotels offered hot water for showers for only specific periods (usually 2 hours/day). An expat from Pakistan we met told us how much more difficult it had been in the winter when no heat was available.

Water itself is an issue. In one town, water flows only once every four days. We visited on a water day and saw women filling huge water jugs to last them for cooking, bathing, and washing.

 A recent petrol crisis has also left a major fuel shortage. Lines for gas were 50+ motorbikes long. Only a ration of fuel is given and when the station runs out for the day, many leave without to try again tomorrow.

Roads are indescribable. There is literally one road east to west in the country which winds through the mountains along a river. The roads are barely one lane wide with huge trucks trying to pass each other into oncoming traffic. Mix in livestock wandering into the road, people riding onto the top luggage racks of buses, gatherers walking carrying huge loads of firewood, and construction that directs you off-road onto dirt and needless to say, we saw multiple wrecks. I am beyond grateful for our driver who safely got us to our destinations.

In the jungle, there are even more concerns that are almost incomprehensible to me. Many small villages exist near the national park where wild animals remain a real problem. 20 tiger attacks occur every year. Just let that sink in. Every year, more than 1 person a month is attacked by a wild tiger. I am speechless. That number is actually a big improvement from the past. We learned that tigers often mistake people gathering wood and vegetables in the jungle for deer or other prey. Crop and livestock fields have towers in the middle where a farmer sleeps at night with a fire underneath to scare away predators.

Despite all these difficulties, the people of Nepal were BY FAR the nicest and most welcoming people I've ever met. They are friendly, loving to share their culture and stories and asking about ours. As male children are quite revered in the culture, I felt like a celebrity at times with people blessing us, hugging Owen especially, and asking to take pictures. I'm pretty sure we are all over Nepali Facebook this week!

The beauty of the country is breathtaking -- how can you not love Everest and the Himalayas-- but it was the people that I absolutely loved. We have such different experiences and perspectives, but we are the same. The more we travel, the more I understand that we are all God's children. The elephant guide, the drum player, the woman carrying water, we are all worthy and deserving of respect. I love that my boys live that. Barrett's life-plan of the week is to live in Nepal leading expeditions. Their horizons are so wide, I can't wait to see where they end up and how they serve God.

 I have a tendency to get caught up in my little world. My problems seem big. I convince myself that my efforts or money or circumstances have earned me something. My selfishness and sense of entitlement shine instead of God's light. How can I be true to my beliefs, to what God has required of me if I don't afford the same mercy and love to others as God has given me?

I have a confession, I am not an adventurous girl. I prefer comfort, safety, a beautiful beach and a fruity drink. But I have three incredibly important boys in my life that want and need more. I want them to become men who see who people are, not what they do or where they
are from. I want them to trust God and turn from fear. I want them to know that we are all the same. Namaste.

"a new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another." John 13:34-35

PS I can't highly recommend a visit to Nepal enough. It is safe, friendly, and beautiful. Despite some of the difficulties, Nepal is warmly open for tourists. Putting money into rebuilding their tourist industry is a helping hand to rebuild the country. If you are interested, I am happy to share our hotel and guide recommendations with you.

One year

One year.

One year ago today we were living out of 3 suitcases in a hotel eating breakfasts at the buffet and doing laundry in the sink. The boys were navigating their way through the first day at school full of complicated schedules, multiple uniforms, and new expectations. Micah was beginning his job with new responsibilities and staff. And I was holding my breath as I learned to drive on the other side and prayed that we would find our place.

Sometimes it feels like we've still just arrived. I find myself still telling people "we are the new family." But then I look back at where we started and I can see how far we've come.

A year ago I would never have imagined having a job that I enjoyed and challenged me so much. A year ago I would never have imagined that the boys would take off to friends houses on their bikes as soon as they got home from school. A year ago I would never have imagined our new favorites--an Indian meal, a quiet secluded island, a comfortable and loving church in a strip center above a restaurant.

This reflection is so needed for me right now.

Guys. Let me let you in on a little secret.

This year has been HARD. Like, crazy hard. Everything feels so difficult and I am truly exhausted. We've had some great moments and experiences but we've also hit some bumps in the road. Housing problems, illnesses, frustrations, homesickness-sometimes it's felt more than overwhelming. We've had to change the way we live. We've held on tight to each other and drowned whoever was struggling in love as we dragged them along. It's been an adventure, to say the least.

There have been days that feel never ending. I can't possibly make it through. Yet, here we are.  The moments we've experienced, good and bad, have led us to today. Today one year later.

God is amazing. He has provided every challenge, smile, frustration, hug, tear, and peace. Even when I think I've figured it out, He throws something unexpected at me. I am not the person I was one year ago. What God has given me has changed me, made me grow. I am becoming...

I don't know how to finish that sentence. I honestly have no idea what I am becoming. I have no idea what this next year brings. But God does. He leads me, and I follow.  He accepts me as I am, in my bad days and good days. He gives new grace every day and I desperately accept.

So bring it on, 2016. I don't know what struggles and joys lie ahead but I trust in Him and remain faithful. I am grateful.

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7-8.

Called to love

Warning....I am not typically one to chime in on political discussions. But I feel like this issue has much deeper roots and honestly, I need to process my emotions here.

I have to admit I've really been struggling this week with recent events. The horrific attacks on Paris that have influenced a firestorm of media attention about refugees and religion and safety have shaken me. I am having a hard time making sense of all of the feelings and opinions out there. This is where I'm coming from...

It's scary. I get it. I do. When we moved to Malaysia I thought about it all the time. I'm a Christian in a Muslim country. I'm a minority. I stick out like a sore thumb. I worried about whether I was wearing a cross necklace or shorts. I worried about being in crowded public places especially with my kids. I worried about stopping at hawker centers (outdoor food courts) with all the eyes staring at us. It was unfamiliar. It was different. It was terrifying.

As a American and even in Europe my knowledge and exposure to different religions and cultures, especially Islam was minimal. Muslims were people in long dresses, chanting in tongues, and admittedly maybe dangerous. What I knew of Islam came mostly from the Western media, post 9/11, and the war on terrorism. In retrospect, my exposure was biased and narrow.

But the life that I've found is very different. We've been welcomed here. White, American, Christians welcomed in a Muslim community. I have found kindness in the small village we have begun to serve, sweet in offering for us to join in traditional celebrations. I found have it in the families, stopping to smile at my crazy boys. I have found it in my medical students eager to learn with the same altruistic attitudes I've had. There is no hate. There is no fear. I live my life openly. I wear a cross. I share my faith. I serve in God's name. I am a Christian living in a Muslim country.

I sometimes ask myself why we are living this nomadic life. The mountains in front of me are huge sometimes. And then I remember the necessity. I don't want my kids to know that fear. They don't see differences in color, language, culture or religion. They see people. I wish we could all see that.

I can understand the fierce protective reaction and fear of threats in light of the world today.  What I don't understand is how that fear becomes big enough to overshadow compassion. When we come to God, he doesn't ask for background checks. He doesn't judge where we've come from. He doesn't question our authenticity. He opens His arms and loves us. He comforts us when we're scared. He welcomes us with mercy.

I hate labels. I hate how we use those labels to make assumptions and judge. Let's be clear. These attacks have been carried out by terrorists. Period. They may hide behind Islam but they are not Muslim. It doesn't matter what they call themselves or what twisted verses they proclaim. They could call themselves Jewish or Hindu or Christian and it wouldn't change. Their ill intents have nothing to do with religion.

And yet we place people in desperate need of help in the same category. We ask them to wait at borders without homes or schools or safety while we figure out if we should be scared of them. This isn't a liberal argument or American argument or even a Christian argument. This is about humanity. We are all the same. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Are we comfortable being treated, in our most vulnerable moment, in this way or are we simply so far removed, in our privileged state, from truly understanding the struggle? Even in the face of fear or uncertainty, we are called to love.

God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God and God in them. 1 John 4-10.

My Singapore hospital experience

Several people have asked me about medical care in Singapore. Since I've gotten an up close and personal tour, I thought I would share a few things I've seen with my medical friends.

Singapore is known for its excellent healthcare. It has been a model for efficient and quality service. There are public and private hospitals and both are meant to be very good. I was in a private hospital, so I can't speak to the differences in the public system.

1. In the ER, the MD evaluation is almost more like a triage. Patients are called into a proper doctor office for evaluation. The ER is primarily staffed by house officers, basically graduates that have not chosen a specialty. Residencies are not required. The physician decides how to disposition the patient-either discharge, observe, or admit. Then the patient is moved to that area. The doctor I saw immediately decided I should be admitted and I was moved to a bed.  I was admitted directly to the GI specialist who gave orders for initial labs and IV fluids.

2. The admission nurse brought me a list of rooms and prices and asked me to choose my room. It was like a hotel list with room sizes and amenities ranging from double room to extravagant presidential suites. I ended up in a basic suite where my specialist was already there waiting for me, even though it was 11 pm on a Sunday night. (He told me he lives across the street from the hospital). The whole process from door to done took less than 2 hours.

3. Being a private hospital, a deposit or insurance was required on admission. I asked what happened if you are unable to pay and was told you are discharged to the public hospital. Every test was discussed associated with a price. Every test from routine bloodwork to colonoscopy was a choice with agreement on the price. It reminded me a bit of a car mechanic. The mechanic calls to tell you what they found and how much it will cost to fix each thing. It was odd but honest. Luckily, our overseas insurance takes good care of us and we had no concerns.

4. That being said, few tests were done. The only bloodwork I had done was on admission. No cat scan. Only the basics. When I would ask something specific, my doctor relied on the good ole physical exam to lead his decisions.

5. Back to the room choosing, the first night I heard a baby crying. I asked the nurse about what I heard and she told me the woman in the next room had just delivered. So there's obviously no separation of wards. Not sure how I feel about that-a brand new baby next door to a terrible infection and common nurses caring for both. Infection control is obviously a necessary priority.

6. The nurses on the ward work as a team instead of assignment to a patient. Each nurse has a role-medication nurse, vitals nurse, discharge nurse, etc. The medication nurse wears an orange construction looking vest that says "do not disturb" and makes rounds dispensing all medications from locked cabinets in each patient room.

7. This may be related to my suite, but my experience was like staying in a hotel. Food comes on tableclothed trays, coffee maker and hair dryer in the room, even high end toiletries in the bathroom. Amenities including reflexologist, masseuse, and acupuncturist are available as well (I did not partake.)

8. On discharge, patients are expected to make their payment in full. No billing. No outstanding debts. Private local insurances aren't a thing here so there are no insurance company talks, except for pesky expats like us. Prices are prices and are non negotiable. Simple.

Overall being the hospital sucks but this was the best of a bad experience. Maybe my experience is specific to my quirky, sweet Dr. Leong, but I felt very lucky to be cared for here.  It's a different system, but it seems to work well. Singapore is small, so it's difficult to argue that some aspects could be applied on a larger scale, but interesting to see there might be another way.

Mile 10

My favorite teen show was Beverly Hills 90210. You might remember that Dylan McKay had some recurring family drama that left him living in the Beverly Hills Hotel for much of the show. I always thought that seemed so exciting and glamorous. Let me just say that Dylan did not have three young children. He did not accurately portray the difficulty of homework, laundry, or living with no space. Annoyances of loud nights, housekeeping schedules, and full parking lots were not adequately expressed. I'm disappointed, Dylan. Hotel living is not all it's cracked up to be.

Luckily, as of today, we've graduated to "house camping" as we like to call it. We have 4 mattresses to sleep on (3 that we needed to buy here and 1 borrowed from a new friend), a plastic card table and 5 metal folding chairs, a tv, and another borrowed twin mattress functioning as our living room couch. Our sea shipment is continuing to float somewhere off the African coast and will not arrive to us for another month. The house itself is mostly ready. We are waiting for mosquito screens for the open bathroom windows (and so are sleeping covered in Bug spray with citronella candles everywhere), ongoing electric issues when we try to run all the air conditioners at the same time, and setting up internet. My frustration is high and patience is low. Regardless, we have a secure space, great neighbors, a pool in the yard, a kitchen and a washer/dryer. Things are slowly looking up.

I apologize that this post is sounding a little whiney and pitiful. I readily admit that these are first world problems. I know how lucky I am. I constantly remind myself that we are healthy, safe and happy. We have a place to sleep, food, a great job and school, and family and friends that we love. I don't equate my situation to any real hardship.

 But this is the hard part. It's like a marathon. I started out excited and full of adrenaline and determination. Now, 10 miles in, I'm questioning what I'm doing. I'm exhausted. I'm beat up. I can't see the finish line......but I know it's there. I have to remember how great it will be at the finish. It's worth it. A friend once told me that the transition and settling phase is the sacrifice we make for this life. If that's true, then I will happily continue to pay my dues.

So I keep pushing through right now. I am leaning on God and my faith in his plan.  I am not strong or brave or good at this part. But I don't have to be. I only have to be faithful.  I am not a believer in the saying that God never gives you more than you can handle. He absolutely does. He gives me more than I am capable of time and time again. And He does it to remind me that I need Him to handle it. I am not in control. I can't do it alone. So I remain joyful even when I'm frustrated or scared or stressed. These trials are temporary but His love, and my faith in it, are eternal.  My work is keeping my eyes on Him in the middle of race. Some days it's hard work. It's never ending work. It's the only work that matters.

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-4.

First impressions

Today marks the 1 week anniversary of our recent closed eyed high dive into Malaysia. It's been a whirlwind but I can say that I think we're holding our own. With the boys now at school and Micah starting work today, I've been left alone with my own thoughts for the first time. It's crazy, a little scary and a lot overwhelming. I wanted to try to organize the huge whirling mass of experiences and first impressions in my head. So here goes...

The trip
The travel was generally easy, other than the stress that comes with a family of 5 living out of a hotel for 2 weeks now. Flying on the heels of another air tragedy, my anxiety was at a high, but I made it onto the plane, which I consider a win. The boys were troopers, as they've proved they always are and took full advantage of their bumped class status. Tyler repeatedly came back from the plane toilet heavily scented as he was impressed with the complimentary cologne. Owen enjoyed every button a million times over, reclining his seat, closing his window shade, raising the pod divider, etc. The electrical system functioned well under strain. Barrett enjoyed the air sickness bags, as is his reponse to total exhaustion due to marathon movie watching and refusal to sleep. Luckily, it only began the last few hours of the final flight and passed that evening.

The area
So I must admit, I was a little (very) on the fence about Malaysia. Singapore, yes, no problem but this just over the border thing had me worried. I had read and heard some expat remarks about the border town stereotype that left me uneasy. We have only just begun to explore, but so far it is amazingly beautiful. It's quiet and green and warm. We've seen monkeys on the side of the road like squirrels, pass a coconut plantation of endless palm trees just next to the school, and watch the harbor boats sailing by. I can't complain. I still do have a level of uncomfortableness from a health background. Raw chicken, barefoot stores, mosquito armies, stray dogs have me seeing salmonella, hookworm, dengue fever, and rabies. That takes some getting used to.

The food
You can smell it when you step out of the airport. It's a mix of salty sea air and spices. It's powerful. It's very tasty. Considering that we are without a kitchen, we've been solely eating out. The older boys have been adventurous finding favorites with mango curry and laksa. Owen is a but pickier, true to form, but has found rice and noodles are always options. The biggest change coming from Norway is the price. A dinner of all five of us runs about $30. Crazy!

The school
The school is a British establishment's international campus. It's huge, like college campus huge. Multiple buildings, boarding options, a pool, track, climbing wall, art and drama building, etc. It is very proper with strict uniform requirements, merit and demerit systems, and house affiliation (as in House of....we are Hunt as opposed to Seymour, Chichester, or Merlin). Honestly, it feels like we might pass Harry Potter at any time. Fun fact, the school was actually the inspiration for JK Rowlings' Hogwartz. All that said, the teachers and kids are friendly and welcoming and the boys all came home smiling. They have a long day, until 4:30, but have private instrument lessons, sports, religious education, and design technology as a part of their school day along with the academics including Mandarin Chinese. It's intense but my boys do best with structure and clear guidelines so hopefully it will be a good fit for them.

 The house
The house is perfect for us (and I will make sure to credit Micah with the housing choice. He's 2/2 folks). It's a brand new house so right now there are several small kinks to repair, but nothing major. It has a lot of outdoor space and pool and a neighborhood park next to us. It also has 2 kitchens and a maids quarters (the boys are currently calling that the time out room as that has been its major function thus far). Concrete and modern, it is polar opposite from our Norway house, but it will be a comfortable home. Many of the school families live in the same neighborhood so the boys will likely have close friends. I am anxious for our furniture to arrive so we can begin enjoying it.

The people
This has been my biggest surprise. I suppose i grew accustomed to the eye diverting non small talking of Norway, so smiling, nodding, and speaking to strangers has caught me off guard. We look different here, of course, so there is a lot of staring, but somehow it's not at all rude. People have been very friendly and helpful for the most part (and we tend to look pretty in need of help at times). The expat population is close knit and have already included me in gym class, coffee morning, and grocery store expedition offers. I appreciate the hospitality.

Overall, we're off to a good start. I am relying a lot on my Norway experience. When moments are difficult, I can remind myself that it was so hard in Oslo in the beginning as well. We are just at the beginning of this adventure, I know there is so much more to see and learn. Not everyday will be easy. I won't always love it. Sometimes the sacrifice is really glaring. But I also know that there will be moments when I will say "oh, okay God. Now I get why I'm here."  Patience and persistence, trust in Him. That's my mantra. Now, I need to go repeat that a thousand times before I venture out to drive to pick up the boys again. Time to be brave.

Goodbye Norway

I'm really bad at goodbyes. I feel like I can never find the right words or setting or emotion. So it often ends up coming out as an awkward blubbering mess.
This change has proved true to form. We've had our time for goodbyes with friends and school and activities and teachers and I cried through them all. I may or may not have cried in the middle of pizza with my family. It's pathetic.

With all of that checked off the list, mistakenly I thought my tears were under control at this point. Then today, with all of our possessions headed off in a truck that hopefully makes it onto a Malaysia bound ship, we turned over the keys to our house. Spending our last night living out of a hotel room, I realize that I hadn't prepared myself to say goodbye to this place, this country, Norway. It's different this time. We left Texas knowing it was still and always will be home. Our house, our neighborhood, our country remained intact. Leaving Oslo is different because those deep roots aren't so secure. We don't know if we'll be able to come back or when. It feels more permanent.

But then as I've talked to God this afternoon and prayed, I found some truths that are pulling me up. We may be physically leaving Norway, but my experience here has become a part of me that will continue to grow. I am changed. I define myself in a new way. It is not leaving one place for another, but an acceptance of all that I am.
I have learned things from amazing people, visited amazing places, had amazing experiences, and I've been blessed to live this adventure with Micah and my boys. It's been incredible. I take pieces of each of these things and molded together, they have made me who I am. My memories are more than thoughts or photos, they are me. God has laid out this beautiful path and as I'm trusting in Him and brave enough follow, I am finding my plan. I am thankful for each good bye and each tear. “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”