Pictures!

I promised to put up pictures...so here they are! :) These are from the whole time so far here in Jordan, semi-chronologically.
(my dad on the night we arrived--VERY jetlagged!(view across a field looking towards town)

(Me with 'Annie' [front] and 'Susie' [back])

  

 ('Natalia')

 

(Me and 'Susie' in the sand--she liked to "eat" rocks :)

(Joshua and 'Natalia')

('Susie'! Pray for her to be adopted by a Christian Jordanian family--Jordan won't let Americans adopt children from there-- IDK why...)

(My Mom by the gate of the compound)

(View of Amman, capitol city of Jordan)

I will put up more later! Ma'as salaama!

 

 

 

What to do...

What do you do when your house is bombed by your own government? Run, of course. To a refugee camp of 20,000 across the border in Jordan. Your husband was injured by the bombing--his arm is broken or dislocated or something--you don't now quite what. Your one  year old baby girl gets sick from all the dust in the camp; she coughs and vomits. Your other children, one boy, one girl, are experiencing nightmares and will be permanently traumatized by what happened to them. Then you hear from a friend that they have settled in a small village about 30 minutes from Amman, the capital city. You and your husband decide to move there. He goes to Amman to get medical care for his arm, and you take your children to this village and rent two rooms below a pharmacy. You have nothing but a few UNHCR mats and some blankets, and maybe some cooking utensils.

This is reality.

And this is Nafal's story. My family and I met Nafal and her children (Abdullah her son is pictured above with my brother Joshua) yesterday when we went with an aid worker to distribute mostly non-food items to Syrian refugee families in a village in Jordan. We met 5 other families with terribly difficult situations as well: one Syrian mother told us that her husband had gotten a job but had lost it, and now they could be kicked out of their apartment if they cannot pay rent; in one family (extended family as well-- 3 families in one 4-5 room apartment), the father was shot in the lower leg and had received surgery, but he still cannot walk without a crutch.

The organization that we went with to visit these families gives things like table-top gas stoves, diapers, and sometimes non-perishable food (if you were wondering, we gave all of the above to Nafal's family). My dad (as a doctor) was able to examine the Syrian man's leg, and also in that same family their was a baby with severe cleft palate that he saw--this baby will need multiple surgeries just so that he can eat solid food. He also gave Nafal assurance that her baby girl was just suffering from allergies due to the dust, and did not have pneumonia.

As you can see, the Syrian situation is severe, and is getting worse by the day. These people need not only physical provision, but the hope that Jesus Christ can only provide. He is the only one who will be able to satisfy their longing for protection and safety; for love and healing. Pray for Nafal and her whole family--her husband Kefah, son Abdullah, and two girls--to come to know the love and protection that is only ours through Jesus Christ our Savior. May He be known by them as the Healer Restorer, Comforter and Protector.

 (This is the place where the 3 Syrian families lived together--in just part of this house. This was the guy who was shot in the leg.)

Lam-af-ham.... Day 2

Lam-af-ham... "I don't understand!" Hopefully I can remember this phrase because I have realized that my very limited Arabic (yes, no, hello, goodbye, thank you, please) is not quite satisfactory!

 I went into town yesterday with my dad and another doctor who knows Arabic to get some groceries. I wore a headscarf because this is not the capitol city and pretty much all the women cover, unless they are a tourist and then they will stick out like a sore thumb... and everyone stares at them! So, especially having slightly reddish hair, I stuck to the more "incognito" option! :) Sidenote: I am really thankful that I have dark eyes and eyebrows! With most of my hair covered, I look fair skinned and not Middle Eastern, but I don't look too unusual...this is nice because as some people know, I prefer in certain situations (cross-culturally in particular) to NOT stick out! :)

About the town: If you have ever traveled internationally you will have noticed that certain things we are sooo used to in the States have no practical bearing anywhere but in Europe (where they came from originally...) For example: Landscaping. Even a very "low-class" American has some sort of idea of how to make his house or apartment area look a little nicer. Here: who cares!?! It is the desert; only scrubby trees (like olive trees) grow naturally. Okay, there is some grass and etc., but all in all beautification of your lawn is decidedly odd unless you are very wealthy.
Another observation (and when I put up pictures you will see this): LITTER. Try to think on this: litter is non-existent here. What do I mean? There will be empty lots in town with 2 trash cans. People will lob their trash bags in the can's general direction, but in the end the whole lot has a good smattering of black bags (and it is really windy here, so they blow around a good bit). The maintenance guys come...and they simply drop a match into the trash bins, burn what's in there out, and let the whole process happen again (See, 'beautification of the town' is not very high on the priority list).  So: trash? To be sure--lots and lots of it! But litter? Nah! (or la, in Arabic) The joke someone told me today was that the national bird of Jordan is (translated from Arabic) "The Black Bag" As I said, they blow everywhere. Save the planet?!!? LA!!!! Man-o-man, I love this place! :)

So, there was your Middle-Eastern culture lesson for the day. Glad I could be of service ;)

Ma'as-salaama (goodbye).

Salaam From Jordan, Ya'll! :) DAY 1

Salaam, Marhaba... or Hi Everyone! I wrote this yesterday, the 4th. (we did not have internet that day)

Well! We have safely arrived in Jordan, and are (sort of) over jetlag. The time here is 1:45pm—for you all, 6:45pm or something like that! Our travel was safe; we slept on the 11-hour flight here, or watched movies (Bourne Legacy and Wreck It Ralph!!!), etc. When we arrived in Jordan, all our luggage was waiting for us—so no lost bags J One hitch was that when you come out of customs and have your luggage, you sort of walk out and see a big group of people holding signs for companies, hotels, groups, and people’s names. This is because most groups send a driver to pick you up at the airport. Well, we saw no signs for the hospital, so we were a wee bit concerned! But my dad bought a phone that will call in-country, and we called the person who was in charge of getting us in. He said the driver was there—we just had not seen him!

The ride to a restaurant where we met some expats we knew was epic! In Jordan, there are few stop lights, and forget real speed limits; these are suggestions! There is a general two-lane idea, but a conglomeration of vehicles using horns and brakes liberally is more exciting. People generally pass on the right, but honking as you speed pass is the best option ;) All that to say, I enjoyed the ride! Somehow I had an innate confidence that the driver would not crash or fender bender anyone, which was fortunate…

We are in an apartment on a beautiful compound—no grass, of course (this is the desert, after all) but lots of olive trees! Today we woke up with the sun, got ready, ate, and my dad, Joshua and I went out to find our way around this place. Right next door (attached to our apt.) is the school for the compound. We met a lady there who showed us the way to the hospital (my dad stayed there and saw patients), and Joshua and I went with her to take three little girls who are staying at the hospital to the playground. One was 'Susie', an adorable little thing who is just about to walk on her own. She was abandoned—her mom died, dad took off somewhere, and no relatives. Another was 'Annie', a sweetheart about 4 (but short for her age), I think. She was seriously malnourished, and had several major and many minor fractions in her bones, and way depleted in Vitamin D when she came to the hospital. Now she has just reached the right D levels, and is walking, but is bow-legged and off balance because of the fractures. Her family now wants her back to beg in the souk (market)! I don’t know what will happen there. The last girl, 'Natalia', was between 14 and 16, they don’t know because she came to the hospital when she was 1 or 2, and had been abused by her dad. Whatever he did to her has caused blindness, and some sort of disability that reminds me of cerebral palsy. She was so sweet! She has been at the hospital for like 14 years. We took these girls and had a ball playing with them in the sand!

Now I am sitting in our apartment, writing this. There is a big windstorm right now—coming off the Syrian desert. But the weather is really nice! Tonight there is a prayer meeting we will be going to, and tomorrow some friends of ours will come visit us, and we will plan our outings to the refugee camp with them. It is about 20 or so minutes away from here, I believe.

So, that is all for now! Hopefully I will update many more times, and with pictures!

In Preparation...

Packing now... Lots of vari-colored and non-matching clothes are flung all about our dining room. My mom and I are trying to figure out outfits that are conservative enough but also wearable! (Girls, you know what I mean...) One of the main challenges is that shirts have to be almost mid-thigh in length to be worn with pants. My grandmother has lots of Indian tunics that work well in that regard, so that has been super helpful! Anyway, we will see what ends up in our luggage on the flight to NY, and from there on the Royal Jordanian Airlines to Jordan! I am excited! (Side note to guys--you have it sooo easy when it comes to packing for overseas travel. No shorts, and you are set. Be thankful! ;)
But in all seriousness, please be in prayer:
-for all the workers we will be there to bless and reinforce. May we truly be able to be a help and not a burden in any way. Pray that my whole family will have a servant's heart like Jesus exemplified, washing His disciples' feet!
-for the patients at the hospital, that my dad will be able to show the love, mercy, and light of Christ despite the language barriers.
-for all refugees and Jordanians that we come in contact with; that God will prepare their hearts to see Christ's love in and through us, and that supernaturally we will shine for Jesus like never before.
-for boldness for me and my family to speak the truth of the gospel when given the opputunity.
-for spiritual protection, and physical strength...ask God to bind Satan over our whole trip. he has been defeated already, but he sure doesn't act like it!
-Most of all, for God to be glorified, and His will fulfilled.

Thanks for being my "rope-holders" as I seek to be the hands and feet of the One who has set me free.

Welcome to a Strange Dichotomy...

In early April, my family and I will fly to Jordan to work with a relief organization and some friends of ours for about two weeks. Then we will return home, and a week later, I will compete at a regional speech competition. Strange? Maybe. Wierd? Not for me. Part of my heart will always be in the Arabian desert, so returning may be tough but rewarding I hope. I do live a double life in some respects--I am involved in things right here in the US while part of me always wishes to be "over there". Somewhere in the Arabian Gulf, somewhere shining a light amongst a people who sit in darkness.

Wait! you say. The US is going down hill-- we need people to stay and fight for America: land of the free, home of the brave! I will give you two reasons. One is that simply I am not called at this point in my life to "fight" for America. Oh, I have. I campained for Romney, for a pro-traditional marriage ammendment in NC, and stood outside of an abortion mill. It is not that I do not want to "save" America. God has called me to a different battle ground. Not everyone can fight all the battles needing to be fought all across the earth. Someone needs to stop hunger, another stop abortion, another save sex trafficking victims, another stop the Supreme Court from destrying all our freedom. But also someone to seek and save the lost in the Middle East. Do you see? This--all these things--are the job of the Body of Christ as a whole! I can be called to do one specific thing and you to another. Together we can further God's kingdom and live for His glory.

My second reason may sting:America is so rich, so obese spirtitually!! We have more than 10 or fifteen versions of the Bible, Churches everywhere, and a bunch of apathetic people sitting in church and living like heathens. I have a passion for those who have never heard the gospel--never even heard that Jesus was more than just a prophet! Someone does need to awaken this nation that has become so slothful. But at this time in my life, I have not been asked to. Don't get me wrong--it is nice to be out witnessing and the person you are talking to knows a few of the 10 commandments! But the US is so sickeningly apathetic when there is SO much availiable to them at any given moment. Someone in the Middle East can go their whole life, die and go to hell before someone reaches them with the gospel, and the average American can turn on their TV and watch The Bible.

God has given me a special part of His heart for the world---when I see this couple walking, black and white, I see a lost, sick soul needing Jesus Christ. And so I will go if He will send me.

 

Thanks for hearing me out. This is me.

The Real Essay

 Today I was assigned by my mother (of course...I am homeschooled...) to write a "meditative essay". And to all you nerds like me out there, here is something you might like to know: the essay (which literally means "to try") was invented by Michel de Montaigne who said that, in essence, his essays were about himself. "So, reader, I am myself the substance of my book, and there is no reason why you should waste your leisure on so frivolous and unrewarding a subject."

This form of writing was self-revelation, not encumbered by all the rules you and I are familiar with (the essay has, seemingly, morphed a bit). Montaigne had created something revolutionary. His aim was "to spy on himself from close up. This is not my teaching, this is my study; and it is not a lesson for others, it is for me." He says that "These are my humors and opinions; I offer them as what I believe, not what is to be believed." 

 

 And I could say that this is the aim of my blog: to muse on life, God, and random things; while you, the reader, may know that these are merely "my humors and opinions; I offer them as what I believe, not what is to be believed."