October 31

Today I was trying to impress upon my son the historical importance of October 31. 493 years ago today, Martin Luther posted his 95 theses on the Wittenburg door, launching the Reformation. I considered dressing up as the door and allowing people to post their theological points on me (using post-its, of course).

The conversation worked its way around to Halloween and the ways the day is observed in France and the U.S. Luke is 18 now, and I thought he was ready to hear a shocking truth about Halloweens past in the Austin home. Mark and I were always somewhat ambiguous about the holiday. While having lots of happy memories of dressing up in goofy costumes and gathering oodles of candy filled our minds, times had changed. Concerns about safety and some underlying discomfort with the darker side of the holiday tempered our enthusiasm. When the boys were small we decided that we would dress up and distribute candy. (In those days the boys were always in costume. They wore capes constantly)

Now this is where the great revelation occurred. Mark and I also agreed that if the boys ever asked to go out trick or treating we would let them. So back in those halcyon days of the 90's, in Orlando, the boys would be thrilled with each group coming to our door, pillow cases wide open. They would laugh and dance about, giving candy to all. Never once did it occur to either of them that they could also be going door to door gathering goodies. Ergo, they never asked to go. And we never asked them if they wanted to go. Passive parenting. Maybe I should write a book.

Luke stared at me in disbelief. I believe the words "what cruel parents" passed his lips. How long will it take to regain his trust, to restore his love and admiration?

Oh, and why do they call those little candy bars "fun size"? Fun size for me would be HUGE bars of chocolate. I'm just saying.

Who Am I?

Sanguine, phlegmatic, otter, ENTP, blue square, secondary leader, spokesperson, strategic, woo, includer, big picture, and a number between 1 and 9. (Sorry Mom, I can't remember which one you said I am) And I believe that I'm either a "summer" or a "winter".

Beginning with my training to be an RA at Kansas State University and through various employers and even pre-marital counseling I have become an expert in taking tests to discover my strengths, passions, gifts and how nasty I can become when stressed. Somehow I picked up a reputation for disliking these tests. Au contraire! It usually means I get to spend 15 minutes to half an hour answering questions about ME! My answers reflect the ME that I want the world to see. When the results are in I get to sit with my boss/team/spouse and talk about what it all means to ME! In some cases people I know have taken other kinds of tests and can label ME based on a series of numbers and/or letters that have no meaning to ME. But tant pis, as long as we are still talking about ME!

My favorite song of all time is Dancing Nancies by the Dave Matthews Band. (gee, I wonder why)
Here are a few choice lines:

Could I have been a parking lot attendant? Could I have been a millionaire in Bel Aire? Could I have been lost somewhere in Paris? Could I have been your little brother? Could I have been anyone other than me? Could I have been anyone? . . . I am who I am. I am. Who am I? . . . Could I have been Dancing Nancy?

Good question.

"For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light for the fruit of the light results in all goodness, righteousness, and truth--discerning what is pleasing to the Lord." Ephesians 5:8-10

"The Spirit Himself testifies together with our spirit that we are God's children, and if children, also heirs--heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ--seeing that we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him" Romans 8:16,17

For all the right reasons

This evening I cried while I was cooking dinner. Now depending on how well you know me you are speculating and coming to conclusions about why and judging whether or not I should be crying whilst preparing supper. Maybe it would help if I told you why I cried. I made French onion soup and had to chop a lot of onions. Sniff. Sniff.
I have heard the phrase "for all the right reasons" in reference to contestants on the Bachelorette as well as the aid workers who were killed this week in northern Afghanistan. In my brain this also linked to the Francis Schaeffer book I'm reading and onion soup. Bear with me here.
First the Bachelorette; actually I have never seen this show but I love to read blogs about it. Young attractive people are often accusing other attractive young people of being there "for the wrong reasons". It gives one pause. In the moral universe that is reality TV how does one discern "right and wrong". Discuss amongst yourselves.
In circumstances on the opposite side of the world geographically and morally, were the tragic deaths in Afghanistan. Some people seek to judge whether the expat workers were in the country for the right reasons. Who is qualified to make this judgment? These precious saints did not seek their own glory, gave up family, comforts of all kinds, financial gain and security in order to serve others, the poorest of the poor, the most desperately needy.
A few years ago I was in a Central Asian country helping out with a crisis management training amongst expat aid workers. These men and women each had a conviction that God had called them to this far corner of the world to serve the people there. Each had also come to grips personally with the possibility of facing death even though they served "for all the right reasons". They sought to please God; not man.
Which brings me to my point (finally, I think). Only in a universe where a good God has made Himself known through a revelation to man created in His image can we have any hope of knowing the difference between right reasons and wrong reasons. Our brothers and sisters who laid down their lives in a foreign land were most assuredly there for the right reasons. And I pray that others will rise up to shine as light in the darkness and spread the love God.

I know. I know.

The deal is that sometime around his 14th or 15th birthday he was supposed to transform into a hideous creature called a teenager. My understanding was that door slamming, moodiness and a penchant for insulting his parents would make me dream of the day I could ship him off to college.

Instead he became really cool, thoughtful, funny. The kind and gentle heart he demonstrated as a cute little boy only grew kinder, gentler. He developed insights to God and the world around us that challenged me and helped me grow as a person.

His musical talent and sensibility made it a joy to lead worship with him at church. Watching MTS3K with him and laughing at the same stupid jokes made him more like a friend than a jerk that I had to cook for and clean up after. He often would have to patiently correct my French, or my attitude. Always with kindness and understanding.

In two days we will drive to the airport, hug and say goodbye until Christmas. He is launching into an amazing future. We have no doubt that he will do much good in this world. I keep reminding myself that this is what we've raised him for. This what we have all done to our parents at some time or other. And we have two others still at home--almost as good as him.

But, dang. I'm going to miss that kid.

Snapshots of the Expat Life

What folly drives the expat? Little things become big things. Silly things become our quest. If they build it we will come.

A couple of weeks ago our eldest brought us exciting news that a Subway Sandwich shop had opened in a nearby mall. What joy! The menu he brought home announced an incredible deal for breakfast for only 2 euros. So, Saturday morning all five Austins piled into the car to bask in the prefab glory of an "American" restaurant. Oh! What deception! Our friendly neighborhood franchise does not open for breakfast. So we had to settle for the totally amazing bread and pastries at La Brioche Dorée

Next stop at the mall was the FNAC where the Princess purchased a CD she had been longing to own. (Owl City--which is not a band; it is just one person. I don't get this trend of solo artists having odd band-like names: Iron and Wine, Coeur de Pirate, Never Shout Never) Anyway, handsome hubby was drawn to the discount bin. For a mere 10 euros our family came to own Boston's Greatest Hits, Steve Miller Band, Eagle's Deperado, M Ward and the Princess Bride soundtrack. (Hubby observed, "It's just like music from the movie")

So on a random note; we listened to "More than a feeling" in the car on the way home. Luke went with some school friends to see a movie where George Clooney kills goats through ESP. That song was played during the credits.

So there is a snapshot of a random Saturday in the lives of these expats.

also, Go K-State!

Listen

Recently our eldest had a bac blanc for his philosophy class. After the 4 hour exam he joined us at the office for lunch. (as he often does, much to his mama's joy) I asked about his exam. He had to write a paper about a text by Locke about property and ownership. Someone in the kitchen asked him if he disproved the philosopher's ideas. Will pointed out that the purpose of the exam was to display that he truly understood what Locke believed. For some reason this really struck me as a wonderful excercise. What if, instead of instantly seeking evidence to prove others wrong, we actually listened to others and first displayed that we understood what the other was saying?

Happy New Year

Goodbye 2009. It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. Do I want to reflect on it all? Yes and no. New challenges, loss, joy, pain are part of the past. They probably will stick around for the next year as well.

How precious also are Your thoughts to me, oh God? How vast is the sum of them! If I should count them they would outnumber the sand. When I awake I am still with You. (psalm 139: 17,18)

This year I want to remember every morning that I am with God. And knowing His thoughts is the most significant thing I can do this year. Obey His voice.