Questionable

I've been reading "If You Could See Me Now" by Cecilia Ahern. Here's an excerpt:

She likened it to a childhood crush, such strong almost obsessive feelings, but more, it had depth. She felt attracted to everything about him, the way he talked, the way he dressed, the words he used, his apparent innocence. Yet, he was filled with a deep knowledge of wise insights. He always said the right things, even when she didn't want to hear them. The darkness lifted and she could suddenly see beyond. When he breezed into a room he brought clarity and brightness with him. He was walking hope and she could tell that things for her could be ... not fantastic, or wonderful, or happily ever after, but that they could be OK. And that was enough for Elizabeth.

He filled her head every moment; she recounted their conversations over and over. She asked him question after question and he was always so open and honest in his answers. But then later while lying in bed, she would realize she knew no more about him than before, despite his replies to every question. Still, she sensed that they were very similar beings. Two solitary people blowing around in the breeze like dandelion seeds carrying each other's wishes.

Of course she felt frightened by her feelings. Of course it went against the grain of her every belief, but as much as she tried she couldn't stop her heartbeat from quickening when his skin brushed against hers, she couldn't stop herself from seeking him out when she wandered outside. She couldn't prevent him from invading her thoughts. He was welcoming himself into her arms even when they weren't open, he was dropping by her home uninvited, yet she couldn't stop herself from holding out her arms and opening her door time and time again.

She was attracted to his presence, to how he made her feel, to his silences and his words. She was falling in love with him.

So the question is: Would you want that - even if you knew you couldn't keep it?

I would.

Summer Musings and Slight Nuggets of Wisdom

I am having an awesome Summer all around. I'm loving it. It's pretty much the best gift my parents could have given me. (Especially since it involves seeing them a lot. Monday! I can't wait! - I know - our family relationships are so close and beautiful it's sickening! People marvel sometimes at how close I am to my parents. HELLO! Have you met them? They're so incredible that it would be really hard not to be!) I've been thinking a bit - I do that sometimes - (Side note: I've started using these - - - - in my writing. I don't know what's up with that or why I do it. It just happened. I'm pretty sure it's not grammatically correct - I'm also pretty sure I don't care. Well, I should care...) ANYWAY! I just thought I would share some of my thoughts and discoveries. (It would take too long to share the stories behind them. And in some cases well, you just wouldn't want to know.)

Life is beautiful because it is life. Instead of waiting for the moments that will bring us pleasure we should find pleasure in every moment. Life is in the extras. In looking for more than we're given we often miss it.

I can't wait for the moment when my children realize that they love all the "rules" they're going to have to follow because they love the God behind them more than they ever thought possible. The moment when their lifestyle truly becomes their choice - and they love what they've chosen.

It is not my belief in something that makes it real. Truth is. Whether I see it, or touch it, or hold to it or not.

I love to be close to people. I was thinking of all the things that have divided me from loved ones in my life. Distance. Color. Time. Pride. I've just been thinking about it.

What is meant to be will be. The people who are meant to stay in your life will stay there. Distance, color, time, and pride are not stronger than God's plan for you.

God is where you look for Him. Look for Him everywhere.

Airport Adventures

Indiana to Family:
I stumbled into the airport after a groggy (yet amazing) Danielle dropped me off. I was proud to embark on my first solo flight since I flew to Malawi. During my previous solo journey I had learned valuable lessons such as
A. Look around - you might be walking right past your luggage.
B. Only follow cute flight attendants when they are actually going to your appointed gate - unless you have spare time. And a camera.
Where was I? Oh yes, I was excited. As excited as anyone can be after being up that early. At any rate, I checked in my luggage, made my way to the entrance of the airport, and stood in line for the security check. I stood in line for quite some time before I realized that I wasn't in front of the security check - I was in front of MacDonald's. Cheeseburger. Metal Detector. By this time you think my missionary education would have taught me the difference.

Seattle to Canadian Family:
My sister had schooled me on going through Canadian customs. "Act like you know nothing." This was how she got through. I figured that in order to best act as though I knew nothing - I should really know nothing. So when I was red flagged in customs because I accidentally checked that I had items to be shipped when in fact - I had shipped nothing - I knew nothing. I wasn't that concerned with having to go through immigration (basically because I didn't know that everyone didn't have to do it.) I stood in line happily chatting with some French dude who told me he was coming to Canada to perfect his French. (I thought after taling to him that it might have been a better idea for him to perfect his English - but it was his life.) Then it was my turn at the counter. (Those people do not smile let me tell you.) I didn't know the church name. I didn't know Uncle Henry's cellphone number. But, now that I think of it, that was all I didn't know. I did know the address and both their names. Having been the proud recipient of a High School diploma from Abeka Academy I also had the ability to answer such deep questions as "How is your uncle Canadian ?" (Well, it was complicated process involving HIS BIRTH!) She finally paged him to immigration. They were making sure I wasn't meeting up with someone I had met randomly on the Internet and also that he actually was there (as without a cellphone number, I would be stuck in such a situation. I am clearly a carefree sort of person.) He came to immigration. We met up later. (Because while they were in immigration and other areas I was waiting for them in the... waiting area... place... (Well. It looked like where I was supposed to be - I can only assume.)
(Side note: My mother thinks I was red flagged because they thought I was moving to Canada to set up a business wherein I hired myself out as an escort. Yes Mom, that would be a real money maker.)

Calgary to Family:
I made it there safely, if not a little bewildered due to the emotional trauma of being parted from my wonderful relatives and the posh lifestyle I had grown accustomed to during my visit and also due to a lack of sleep the night before. Bewildered as I was - I did make it safely to Seattle AND took the tram without getting lost. ( HA Candra!) However, upon my arrival I failed to understand which baggage claim was mine. So I wandered back and forth searching for it. One to nine. Nine to one. One to nine. Nine to one. One to nine. Nine to one. One to - what was that behind nine? A whole row of baggage claims I had missed. Mine was number twelve. I arrived there only to be paged a couple of yards away where I met up with my sister and my luggage. Good to know
A: That baggage claim twelve was in existence.
B: That the airport security (while determined to unravel the deep mysteries of "How my uncle turned out to be Canadian") had no problem allowing random tall girls to flounce off with my luggage. (Thank the Lord I was related to the random tall girl in this instance.)

Next flight: Tuesday to Ohio. (Ashleymine: Let's hope it's less eventful.)

Dear Africa

Dear Africa:

I feel like a traitor sometimes. I go to the malls and I order the famous chips and salsa at Chilli's and I drink up my Starbucks and I wander around in Barnes and Nobles and I feel like a traitor. I laugh with my new friends and put pictures of them up on my walls and cherish their words in my heart and I feel like a traitor. I go to church and I hear the sound of music from hymnals straight up to flat out rock, I bob my head and I feel like a traitor.

I push it all to the back of my mind. I forget about the days when I bought everything from flash lights to flip flops on the side of a dusty road. I forget about fufu and drinking spicy porridge from cheap plastic cups. I forget about bookshops - no more than shacks - full of rare treasures that somehow wound up across the sea. I forget about Youth group and our wonderful worship team. I forget about AIS and all the laughter and shrieking and the blessed air conditioning in the teachers lounge. I forget about all the nights I stayed up late eating ice cream and peanut butter, laughing, talking, and simply being loved. I forget the rhythmic beating of the bongos and what a tragedy it is when you arrive at church without a handkerchief. I forget sweat. I forget coke straight from the bottle. I forget you.

You know in your heart of hearts that I don't truly forget you and I never will - there are simply days I chose not to remember.

Because it hurts to remember. I have taken my love for you - the essence of what you are - and boxed it up in secret places. For rainy days. For the random curious acquaintance. For my children.

I am worried you will fade. I am worried that the ache of the absence of you never will.

I miss you. How I miss you.

You have made me who I am. I hope that my life is always, in some measure, a testament to who you are.

With love,
Melinda

Mad Love

This is my Gabe and Farrah. They are two completely different people that I'm blessed to have in my life. However, while being so different (and meaning different things to me):
They're both ridiculously talented musicians.
They're both good with the pen and paper.
They're both Easters.
They're both Filipino.
They're both amazing gifts from God and my life would be greatly lacking without both of them.
I could go on for hours, but you would get bored and they know how I feel.

(08/09) Dear IBC:

How my heart filled with absolute dread at the thought of you. True it was a thought I had come up with on my own (with the help of several key players such as Jaye Rodenbush) but dread prevailed nonetheless. I'll never forget the moment I first saw you in real life. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to run away. I wanted to sell myself in slavery to an Egyptian paper making company - anything to get me away from you. I didn't see the friendly faces and I didn't hear half the words spoken to me throughout the tour of your grounds - my heart just sunk lower and lower into my toes every step I took. I have never been so miserable. Ever. I stuck it out bravely for a bit, but when two weeks passed (my usual adjustment period) and I was still feeling like the living dead - I lost it. When I thought I couldn't live another day breathing the air of your hallways - I called Cylinda. (MK Ministries is there for a reason - calling Cylinda is always a good plan.) She and Carla put me on speaker phone and reminded me that I was loved, that I would ultimately be cared for, and that I always had options. The introduction of options into my life filled me with comfort and reinforced in my mind and heart that IBC was the right option and the only one I wanted. (Even with that realization there were still a few months of "gray period.")

During that whole awful period I was attending awesome services. I was going to informative classes. I was meeting new people. I was greatly looked after and checked up on. I was included. I was rarely left at the school for so much as a weekend. I was just miserable at the same time. (A lot of good will come into your life and heart if you will only appreciate what is around you. Holding on to the past is good in some ways - we don't need to completely let go. Some things are meant to be cherished. Some things are meant to be held onto. But your past can't live your present for you. And it can't be your present either. So letting go - to some extent is unfortunately a necessity.) So I let go, and little by little began to hang on to what God was handing me.

He was handing me a lot. Ministry opportunities. Friends to laugh with. A new sense of independence. A closer walk with Him. A greater appreciation for the small things in life. (And we thought it was impossible for me to get any more excited at the sheer joy of the presence of pickles.) He was handing me a life I love.

By second semester - I loved you. I love you still. (Clearly.) I love my whole new world. I love Calvary. I love choir. I love my Theology classes. I love my teachers. I love my room. I love my occasional random baby sitting job. I love my every day job at AIS. I love Chapel. I love Student Body Prayer. I love the faces in the hallway.

I hate change.

But I love this one.

There are people who have grown into my heart as if they've always been there. People who are as much a part of my life, new home, and family as my skin is. There have been late night (and early morning) conversations about everything under the sun and a few things above it. There have been random trips from everywhere from WalMart, to Starbucks, to St. Louis. And I may grouch about it in the morning and tease and egg people on - but there is nothing I love more than those knocks on my door at two A.M. or the occasional four A.M. phone call - because they mean a few more precious minutes of connection with the things I love most about my life: the people in it.

I can't write about you, dear IBC, without stopping to mention that this year, we as a student body said goodbye to a Senior class that your walls had nurtured right up until the completion of their degrees. They were, in talents, in spirit, in personality, and in character nothing short of incredible. You, IBC dearest, were blessed to have them. I was blessed to know them.

Despite dire predictions that it is unlikely statistically speaking that they will all stay firm in the faith, the truth, and the God of it - I truly believe that the graduating class of 2009 will prove to be much stronger than a statistic. I'm excited to hear about what God will do through them and to get the chance to smile at the news and think "I used to know them!" I hope that they will remain, as they are now, great people and a walking testimony to a great school.

The 2009/20010 school year will bring new challenges, new possibilities, a few old friends and a host of new Freshmen.

I hope I remember to celebrate every day - because I can.

I hope I remember that moments where work is put on hold for a chat are never a waste - because relationships matter more than getting a decent night of sleep ever will.

I hope I remember to smile at the Freshmen - because if they're anything like last years Freshmen - they're going to be amazing. ;)

I hope I remember to laugh at myself - because ultimately, I'm a comedy - not a tragedy.

I hope I remember to give my best - because the faculty endeavors to give theirs.

I hope I remember to appreciate the moment, say what I need to say, dance in the rain, and love when it hurts - because time spent doesn't return to you.

Oh, and IBC, I hope I remember to value your true worth - because, let's face it - you rock.

The Perfect Man (Part One)

My darling Tina and I began to formulate a list of qualities that would be desired in the perfect man - before either of us left Ghana. Think about that a moment. Because, we just finished it. (Yes. It took awhile.) I don't think anyone should read too deeply into this - these are not qualities we're set on. (If the guitar we want only comes in black - we won't be crying for a pink one.) But here are said qualities - such as they are.
(And yes, I fully realize that this is a lame attempt to keep from having to write anything substantial on my blog, and am sure that you do to.)

Qualities Found in a Male Most Perfect

Melinda and Tina

1.) Must love God

2.) Must tolerate children with more than a happy attitude.

3.) Must have a splendid sense of humor.

4.) Must randomly serenade lady of choice with song.

5.) Must be able to dance.

6.) Must have fond appreciation for literature.

7.) Must be guitar hero.

8.) Must be able to laugh at completely random things for no apparent reason.

9.) Must be able to laugh at himself.

10.) Must appreciate and support our writing.

11.) Must be willing to try new and amazing foods.

12.) Must be unafraid to cry.

13.) Must be able to tell when you're having a bad day and hold you in his arms for exactly the right amount of time.

14.) Must be confident and assertive.

15.) Must have cloud breaking smile.

16.) Must worship and pray with abandon.

17.) Must delve into the word and strive to be a man after God's own heart.

18.) Must be marginally intelligent.

19.) Must have a world view slightly larger than a Kellogg's cereal box.

20.) Must be willing to travel.