American Dream

I had a dream last night in which I was house shopping. I was walking around a neighborhood with quite a few number of houses.  Every house looked the same except for the different sizes of the yards.  I was alone and without a realtor.  I came to this one specific house.  I walked in and began to walk around.  As I was walking around the house looking at the rooms, I came into the kitchen, which was in the very center of the house.  There was a familiar friend from my childhood in the kitchen.  He was sitting at the kitchen table (kitchen island) on a bar stool, which was in the middle of the kitchen.  As I approached him, he began telling me how he and his wife had bought a house just like this house and it was in the very same neighborhood.  He then took me to look at their house.  To get there, we walked around a small pond in the neighborhood while passing a few other homes.  Their home was almost the same as the one I had originally looked at, but with just minor differences.  I then looked at the yard to see how big it was.  The yard was much smaller and closer to the other houses, the trees were also very close to their house.  I noticed in the dream that all the houses looked the same.  I then looked at my friend and told him that I wanted to buy the first house. I said... "It is what I want."  I then woke up.

As I thought about this dream, I was surprised why I would ever want to buy a house like this.  In the dream, the house was not beautiful although it was not ugly either.  It was not unique but it was very similar to all the other houses in the dream.  It was small and simple, a little boring.  The only difference from my house compared to my friend's house was that it had a bigger yard. I was not really impressed by the appearance, size of rooms, yard size, uniqueness, or character of the house.  Yet I still stated that I wanted to buy the house. Why?  I prayed about this dream today and the interpretation of it.

I felt that God was talking to me about the so called "American Dream."  I believe that God has given me a choice of how I can live my life.  To the average American it may seem like the thing to do.  Most might settle down, buy a small-adverage house-in a small neighborhood, along a small pond.  Most people might actually be content with their average lifestyle.  For years they might even say... "this is what I want."  This is exactly what I said in my dream.  As I said this in the dream, my heart felt something completely different.  Although these words came from my mouth, my heart was not satisfied with the decision.  I awoke thinking... "Why on Earth would I settle for the average lifestyle?"  I personally don't think that God was specifically speaking to me about buying a house but that the house was symbolic for the "normal" American lifestyle.  God has given me a choice of what lifestyle I may live.  There are two options to choose from: The path that most people take, the so called American Dream with an average life, average neighborhood, average house, average yard, average pond, and average family or the path less traveled into the unknown, living in random countries, random cities, random cultures, unknown houses, among unknown or different languages, and with the unknown of when the family may come, if by chance it ever does.

One path seems average and the other path seems random & risky.
One dream seems contentful and the other dream seems unknown.
One home seems small and grounded and the other home seems limitless and vast beyond the oceans.
One seems so stagnant and the other seems so fruitful in new seasons.
One seems to be walking by sight and yet the other seems to be walking by faith.

I have to admit, I like the latter.  This is my path. This is my dream. This is my home.
"This is what I want."


Somehow I can't help but think of the path less traveled. :-)

that chosen to be close to God one

I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To hear Your Voice
To feel Your Nearness
To see Your Face
And to know Your Gaze

Because I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To look in to the night sky and know The One who created each star
To walk along the oceans and know The Man who filled them up
To look upon mountain tops and know The Master Painter
And to step into different seasons and know The Changer of them all

I want to be that chosen to be close to God one

To walk into a different nation and know You ~The One Father of them all
To step into the darkest places and know that You have already gone before me
To look into the face of strangers and to exchange a glance through Your Eyes
And to love others through the love that You have chosen to love me

Because I want to be that chosen to be close to God one
God choose me

33rd street & 3 more days

Today has been a strange day.  What should I expect though when I pray "God show up!"  Last night I prayed that God would show up during my travels, that He would surprise me with His Presence and signs. :-)  This morning I prayed that again... but I might have rephrased it... "God show up in Paris today! (I have this thing with Paris-but then who doesn't right?)  Now I sit and ask myself "why am I surprised on my strange day?"  Maybe in the midst of all the confusion I had forgotten my prayer.

I got up this morning and began last minute packing to head back to the UAE, for my 3rd year teaching at Almaha Primary School.  I packed everything all nice, neat, and orderly.  Funny how packing to go back is a lot neater than it was to come.  I had everything all packed by 11:00am and I had time to pray with one of my roomies for the upcoming year-new beginnings for both of us.  How great it is to bless friends in prayer and receive prayer.  Truly this is the family of God that I love so much, a praying family.  

I then checked (through my phone) my flight departure time.  Yes, I have to say that I'm a proud owner of a new iphone-4S.  It has been my new toy for the week that has consumed only a little of my time. ;-) The departure time read 4:35pm, Aug. 30th.  My other room-mate and I planned on leaving for the airport 3 hours before my fly time.  

On the way to the airport, we lifted up prayers. :-)  She specifically prayed for God to show me that I was not traveling alone.  She also prayed for favor, favor, favor, and for new beginnings.  I then lifted her up in prayer.  My friend's car started acting funny as we were driving.  All of a sudden I just had this peace in me.  I said, "I'm okay if God has me not make it to the airport.  I am okay if God has me make it to the airport.  Whatever He wants to do, I am okay with. "  Then her car stopped acting funny.  As we pulled into the airport we ended our prayers and she helped me carry my very heavy luggage to the dock.  I really honestly didn't think I came with that much stuff but as I pulled it all out of her hatchback, even as neatly packed & orderly as it all was, it was def. not light.  Who knew that shoes & product could weigh that much!  I will admit that I love my shoes & hair products.  Although at times my heels seemed a bit inappropriate in KC, they may not have actually made it out of the suitcase in KC.   'sad-face' AnotherTime@AnotherPlace   

At the "check in dock" at KC International Airport, I placed my bags on the dock and passed the man my passport.  He looked at me strangely and said, "You should have been here 2 hours before for an international flight!"  I then showed him my phone because I had not printed the ticket out.  He told me my flight was departing at 3:00pm instead of 4:35pm.  I then proceeded to the American Airlines help desk.  As I was in line, there were some Arabs checking in as well.  The man carried one of my suitcases up to the counter for me.  It felt good to practice my arabic skillz again. "Shukran Jazilan" :-)  As I showed the American Airlines Clerk my flight schedule via@iphone (while pointing to the time of 4:35), she reached out and touched the screen.  It opened up the date which then changed the time to 3:00pm! No way I thought, "I missed my flight!"  She then said that there was another flight leaving tomorrow for Abu Dhabi and she said the flight difference would be a 2,000.00 dollars!  I immediately felt sick to my stomach and thought, "No way am I paying that amount for me missing my flight!"  She tried to look for another flight but for some strange reason the computer system was not working properly to look for flight prices.  She gave me the international number to call and we proceeded to the back to the car.

All the way home, I was in shock.  Basically, I was thinking I was leaving the country and then a "suddenly" happened.  I couldn't really blame it on the airlines and I couldn't really blame it on myself.  It was just a mistake that happened.  I got the time wrong but it wasn't really my fault.  I prayed for favor with the airline price.  I def. didn't want to fork out another 2,000.00 for a one way ticket! That was just out of the question.  Immediately 1 Thessalonians 5:18 came to my mind. "In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."  I then just began to praise God and thank Him out loud.  It went a little something like this... "Well I missed my flight, might have lost a lot of money! Praise God! Praise God!"  We than began to claim Romans 8:28 over the situation.  "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."

As we came into the house, I called the 800 number to reschedule my flight.  I was put on hold, transferred, put on hold, put on hold, and then put on hold.  All the while, praying for patience, favor, and questioning why this was all happening.  The woman on the other line was trying to find me a reasonable fare because as it looked for the upcoming day the cost was still a 2,000.00 difference.  I waited for approximately 45-50 minutes on hold.  She came on and had found me a flight that would only cost an 80.00 difference for the beginning of next week!  I praised the Lord out-loud and thanked her numerous times!   I rejoiced more when getting off the phone.  Then thanked "the Lamb" numerous times! My friend then asked me what time it was.  I told her it's 5:33.  "Oh wow!" I said.  She said "does this number mean anything to you?"  It sure does! 5 is the number for Grace and the 33 is the number that God always shows me when He wants me to know that I am right where I am supposed to be at! It's like He's telling me He is with me!  She then proceeded to tell me something crazy!  She said... "funny thing but today when I was paying rent, I added up my rent,  plus the 22 days that you were here.  The total ended up coming to 333.24.  You gave me yours in cash and then I wrote the check for 333.24.  Since you are staying another 3 days at 11 dollars a day, you will owe 33 dollars when you leave!"  I couldn't believe it!  

To give you all a history of this 33 thing.  Ever since I left for the UAE 2 years ago, the Lord has been showing me 33's as signs to tell me I am in the right place or that He is with me.  I had a dream of going through a door w/the 33 on it.  When I opened the door I was in the ME.  The street sign outside of our home-group home in the UAE was 33rd st.  The house of prayer's address in Dubai is 33.  When on a trip to S. Africa, my arrival time was 3:33.  There are numerous other signs the past few years using the 33's that God has shown me.  Today is another day that the Lord has shown up saying "Do not worry, you are exactly where you are supposed to be at.  I am with you.

As I sit and type this, I look over at my luggage in the corner of the room. I can't help but say... "Wow, I can't believe I'm still here in KC!"   For some reason or another, I am still here and I am okay with that-as I prayed earlier.  Now I am reminded of all the other prayers... "God show up today.  Presence. Favor, favor, favor. May she know she is not traveling alone." Wow did God ever show up today!!! I also have yet another REAL Sunday in America, on Memorial Day weekend (for those who understand the Islamic weekends).  For this I rejoice and giggle... saying "I can't help but feel I should be on that plane right now... but then again, maybe not.  

Quote of the Day

"Victory begins with name of Jesus on your lips, but it will not be consummated until the nature of Jesus is in your heart." 

pondering

Today I had this phrase come into my mind... "Breaking the Stigma of Religion."

Our two different faces from my two second grade emirate classes.
Who says you can't be serious and silly? :-D

cut to the heart

The rare times when reading scripture, it cuts to your spirit, cuts to you soul, cuts to your heart.

"Those who were not my people I will call "My people,"

and her who was not beloved I will call "beloved."

And in the very place where it was said to them, "You are not My people,"

there they will be called "sons of the living God."

                                                         Romans 9:25 (Hosea 2:23)

When I read this today the impact of the reality hit me.  This is happening today.  This prophecy foretold about in the book of Hosea and re-quoted in Romans is happening in this very day.  It's happening corporately in nations and individually in personal lives.  When reading this today I was amazed at how alive God's Word stands.  His Words are Truth, they are Real.  They are Alive and Active in our very time.  I was cut to heart as I read this today. 

MERCIFUL is He who says to those who are not His people "you are Mine."

COMPASSIONATE is the One who sees the unloved one and says "You are My loved one."

ABOUNDING IN LOVE is the Father who claims children in a land who has been said they don't belong to Him.  He says ... "My sons & daughters come Home to Me."

Merciful, Compassionate, Abounding in Love... this is my God. This is my Beloved. This is my Father.  He is absolutely BEAUTIFUL and I love Him so much.

The Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

"Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.


Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy.


O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love.


For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.


Amen."

Heaven's Eyes

Choked up by reading Leif Hetland's book...


One or two put their heads in His bosom.  
 In His bosom, they feel honored.  
 On His lap, they feel safe.
 In His hands, they feel blessed.
 In His eyes, they feel loved.
 In His smile, they feel delighted in.


 And there on His lap, with that squirmy brood of children--so young, so innocent, so trusting--Jesus shows us a picture of the Kingdom of God with its King on His throne.  He places the least of these in the position of most honor, gathering them to His bosom and blessing them.


 Jesus knew exactly how they felt, and He fought back a nostalgic treat for the bosom of His Father that He had left so many years ago when He climbed down from the lap so we could climb up onto His."


Then they brought little children to Him, that He might touch them; but the disciples rebuked those who brought them.  But when Jesus saw it, He was greatly displease and said to them, "Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of God.  Assuredly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it."  And He took them up in His arms, laid His hands on them, and blessed them.


Before Jesus left this earth to return to the bosom of the Father. He cried out to the Father.  The time was late at night; the place, the Garden of Gethsemane.  Once there, Jesus walked a little way beyond where He had left Peter, James, and John, then fell to the ground and praying.  The writer to the Hebrews describes the scene one of anguish, tears, and loud crying (Heb. 5:7).  What Jesus cried out was "Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me yet not what I will, but what You will (Mark 14:36).


What exactly is going on in that Garden?  Jesus is afraid.  He is crying, loudly, and for a time, uncontrollably.   Suddenly He is a little boy again, climbing onto His Papa's lap, trembling, reaching up, and desperately clinging to His neck.  Asking Him--no, begging Him--for a reprieve.  In essence He pleads, "Papa, please.  The cup is too heavy; it's contents, too bitter.  Do I have to take it?  Must I drink it?  Is there no other way?"


Though the answer is hard, the lap is soft, and the Father's arms bundle His Son against the chill of night--warming Him, assuring Him, calming Him.  What began in tears, ended in trust.  What began as a request, ended as a relinquishment.  What began as a way out for the Son, ended as the way of salvation for the world. 


All because of the Father's lap.


And because of the Son who sat there, wept there, surrendered there.

My prayer is that I can lean into the bosom of Jesus.
To lean into all of my brokenness and lean into the heart of this very Man, Jesus.
To come as the child He sees me as.
To sit upon the lap of Abba and be loved as I am, a child.

I hear the Lord saying... "Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them.  For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to these little ones."

The Reality of it All

 I prayed a simple prayer "God, open my eyes to see what You see today, open my ears to hear what You hear today, and open my heart to feel what You feel today."

I then went about my day, went down stairs to Starbucks, picked the girls up for work, drove to school, taught my second grade class, discussed random things in the lunch staff room, worked w/my student teacher, complained about the air conditioning not working in our school (seriously was 104 degrees today), drove home from work, went for a run in the gym, and went to the grocery store.  As I was shopping for groceries something happened.

THE CAR WASHER
As I parked my car in the parking garage of LuLu's Supermarket/Grocery Store.  I was approached by a car washer.  For those who are not familiar w/things in the UAE, here's some information.  In every mall or shopping center that you go to, there are car washers.  They are there simply for the convenience of car washing.  It's fairly cheap, done while you shop, and you have a clean car with no hassle of waiting in line.  This sounds great but there may be a catch or price to pay.  Are we the one's paying the price or might it be the worker.  These workers are known as one of the many jobs classified as "labor workers."  I was approached by this kid, I say kid because he looked to be about 16-18 years old.  He was from Pakistan.

Car Washer:  "excuse me, car wash?"

Me: Thought not spoken~(I honestly prefer to get my car cleaned at the petrol station because they clean the inside of your car as well.)

Me:  "No thank you."

Car Washer: "Please Mam. Please Mam. Can I wash your car.  It won't take long."

Me: Thought not spoken~ (He must really be low on car washes.  What if he doesn't make that much? How much does he make?  How did he get here? What is his story?)

Me: Okay.  Yes you can wash my car.  How much?

Car Washer: 20 dirham

Me: Thank you. Please keep the change. God bless u.

Car Washer: Thank you

The reality shown to me was that he is a young man, who came to the UAE upon hearing of a better job, with high expectations, sending money home for his family, overworked and underpaid.

I then proceeded to walk towards the entrance of Lulu's thinking of the Car Washer.

THE LABOR WORKER
Upon entering the grocery store, I grabbed a cart and began my shopping.  I was walking in the freezer section and this Pakistani man was walking in front of me.  He was wearing a wrinkled white cotton dress shirt, short khaki colored trousers, and black plastic sandals.  His hair was combed back (damp still from a washing) and his skin was dark from the sun.  The word "modest" popped into my mind.  He was pulling his empty grocery basket behind him.  He was headed for the frozen vegetable section but hesitated.  Looking at the bags of frozen vegetables he hesitated again.  Then looking the opposite direction towards the fresh baked bread isle,  he transitioned to the bread section.  He grabbed a bag of the freshly baked arabic bread, stared at it for a minute, and placed it into the empty blue grocery basket.

As I stood behind this man watching his shopping, I couldn't help but notice his gentleness.  It was like I was being allowed to feel his character, if this is at all possible.  I could sense and feel his gentle spirit and softness.  I was wondering why he was hesitating but deep down inside I knew the answer to this question.  Looking back at the man, he placed the bread in his basket and chose not to go down the frozen vegetable section.  As I looked at this man, tears began to well up in my eyes.  My heart began to hurt.  God was allowing me for a minute to feel this man's reality.  He is a hardworking man, shopping for food, with a modest appearance, a man with a good character and a good heart.  He is a man far from home, far from his family, trying to make ends meet by sending money home to his loved ones, a man underpaid and over-worked.

As I thought these things, I looked down in my grocery cart and began to feel an onset of embarrassment.  I had things in my cart, that some might not be able to afford.  What a contrast it is to live in one of the most richest cities in the world but to have some of the most underpaid and overworked laborers.  I though to myself "here I am buying the necessities of the week (or so I think they are necessities) and here this man might only be able to buy the bare minimals."  At this moment, I immediately lost my appetite for grocery shopping.  Maybe this is one of the reasons why I hate grocery shopping in the UAE so much.  I wanted to immediately push my grocery cart to the side and just walk out of the grocery store.  Why I didn't, I'm unsure of.  I assume that it would leave more work for some of the workers at the store.

THE GROCERY CLERK
As I pushed my cart to the check-out isle.  I began to place my items on the counter.  My items consisted of: cereal, granola bars, yoghurt, bananas, apples, arabic bread, flour tortillas, chicken, coffee creamer, milk, and pop-corn.  It's not as if I was buying a lot of food but I still couldn't shake the man from my mind.  As the clerk began to check out my items, I noticed her white collared shirt.  On her shirt was embroidered in big forest green stitching "Ministry of Labor."  I began to think of the term "Labor Workers" that is so well known in the UAE.  I always thought that the grocery stores were the ones who had hired out the clerks, bag boys, shelf stockers, and fruit and vegetable stockers.  I then began to notice all of the employees embroidery on their shirts.  The Ministry of Labor is the same organization that brings in the "labor workers" from the surrounding countries.  These include Pakistan, Indian, Bangladesh, Nepal, and the Philippines (these are just the main countries... there are a few more).  My heart began to swell up again.  Tears began to form in my eyes as the woman handed me my change from my purchase.  She smiled at me and said... "have a good evening." I blessed her and thanked the bag man twice.

THE CLEANER
As I was pushing my cart out the main door of the market.  I looked to my left and saw a man who was cleaning the floors.  He was sweeping up some of the trash.  He looked up and was gazing at a family walking by.  He was from India and I would say that he was about 20 years old.  He was just a kid.  My attention went towards the family, which were also from India.  It's quite funny but this young man actually looked so much like the family, that if it had not been for his "cleaning labor uniform" and their traditional indian wear,  I would have thought he was with them.  The family consisted of a grandmother, mother, father, and baby.  The  young man was staring at the father pushing the grocery cart.  The father was holding a baby bottle and feeding the baby who was sitting in the front seat of the grocery cart.   The mother was helping the elderly grandmother walk towards the exit.  The father's laugh echoed through the corridor of Lulu's market while he was trying to get his son to feed off of the bottle.  The young man's gaze had turned to a look of sorrow, his shoulders began to sulk, as he continued to work.  It looked as if a sense of home-sickness had hit him.  He walked away from the family with his back towards them and continued to sweep trash (that was not really there.)  He walked slowly towards the railing of the wall, memories coming to him, and homesickness over-flooding him.  I don't know how it is that I knew all of this with just one glance of the scene but I did.  As I looked upon this scene, tears began to fill my eyes again.   God was allowing me again to feel this young man's reality.  He is young man-boy who is far away from home, who came to the UAE with hopes of a better future, trying to send money home to his family but desperately homesick while doing this, not allowed to leave until his contract is fulfilled/completed (probably couldn't leave if he tried).  As I walked out the doors and into the parking garage my heart began to swell up again.  I began praying to God. "It hurts. It hurts."

THE PARKING LOT ATTENDANT 
As I made my way to my car.  I noticed a man standing by a Mercedes SUV.  It was as if he was standing there watching it but he seemed lost all the while.  He saw me walking towards him and he looked at me with an emotionless expression.  He stood there watching, waiting, for what?... maybe time to pass by.  I noticed his belly sticking out probably due to eating so much indian food, for as many indian restaurants as there are.  He continued to stand in the same spot watching/waiting.  He was on duty watching the parking garage.  As I pushed the cart to my car, which was parked right next to the Mercedes; I looked back at the parking lot attendant and then again to the Mercedes.   I couldn't help but to think of the contrast again of this city.  People who are so rich but then people who are so poor. I then focused on him, he was standing in the same place, with the same look, facing the same direction, still seeming lost.  I put my 5 bags into my backseat and pushed the cart to the spot where all the other carts had been pushed.  I got into my car, rolled my windows down, and turned my car on.  As I pulled out of my spot and drove off, I glanced at the attendant again.  He looked saddened and helpless. Or was this hopelessness?  What was his story? How did he get here? I slightly smiled at him as tears welled up in my eyes again.  Once again, God was allowing me to feel the reality.

As I drove home, I couldn't shake the feelings from the car washer, the labor worker, the grocery clerk, the cleaning man, and the parking lot attendant.  I can only explain it as if it felt like an ache or arrow in my heart.  Tears welled up and I began praying for each one.  As I walked into my apartment and placed my groceries on my floor, I continued to pray.