The status for all my non Facebook friends.

Just a quick update on where I am...

Since New York, I went to a conference in VA. It was very encouraging and a whole lotta fun. For those of you who know more about that conference and are curious--everything went well, and stuff is lined up and looking good for my return in March.

Then I went to GA to hang with some photographer friends. It was some good times!!!

I caught the Greyhound from Atlanta up to Columbia, SC, where I am right now. Having a good time hanging out with my joyful, book loving friend.

Next week, I'll catch the Amtrak from Columbia to Raleigh, NC to KO!!! Yippee!!! So excited.

I've been reading GOBS, sleeping in every morning, talking to people about France. It's been uber-relaxing and wonderful.

Reflections on NYC

I got lost again. William told me her church was "between 16th and 17th, and 1st and 2nd, on a street with a name too long to remember." Well, I found 16th and 17th, but couldn't find 1st and 2nd, but eventually found 3rd and figured 2nd must be near by. I wandered until I found "the street with a name too long to remember" and walked in the back of the church--for the final 2 minutes of the sermon. Turns out the church is between 2nd and 3rd, but it's not like that would have made a difference for me to find it easier.

My third time out by myself was a charm, though, and I found my way to where I wanted to go with no problems at all. And back home again. Look at me, the grown up big girl in NYC who can get around all by myself. Insert 6 year old missing tooth grin here.

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New Yorkers love cupcakes. I don't know why, I just know it to be true. The famous place to get cupcakes is Magnolia's--but I've never gone there. The last time I was here, William took me to Buttercup instead, and I loved my Buttercup cupcakes. Last week, we were on the subway, and she ran into some people she knew, who mentioned they were going to Crumbs. William made the comment that Crumbs' cupcakes are so good that they make her head spin, because of the cream in the middle of the cupcake.

We went to Crumbs after I'd already been here a week, and it was so good that I kinda got mad at her for not taking me on my very first day. Crumbs inserts icing (that has some cream added to it so it's not so thick) into the middle of the cupcake...and it is, well, I can't even think of the word to describe how heavenly delicious it is. I might go to Crumbs every single day for the rest of my time in NYC. I do heart cupcakes.

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I find New Yorkers so interesting. SO interesting. Here are some things I've observed.

--They really do love to wear black.

--They are so much more friendly than you would expect.

--While they are trying to be "earth friendly" and this made me expect to see everyone carrying their own travel coffee mug, it so very New York to carry a disposable to-go cup from the coffee shop of your choice, which is not earth friendly. Shocking.

--The myriad of accents due to the myriad of people groups is pleasant to this nomad's ear.

--The men all dress extremely metro. You'd think I'd be used to this, as men in France tend to dress really nice and tailored, and so that's what I've seen for the last few years. But I guess in my head, I expect to see American men dress less tailored, and so it's thrown me for a bit here in New York.

--I'm learning about this thing called "the hipster." William's still pointing them out to me, so I can make sense of it all. But they are interesting.

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I came up out of the subway the other night unexpectedly right at the foot of Ground Zero. For someone who hadn't seen it before, and seeing it still very much under construction, it was as though it had happened very recently. William asked if I wanted to go look at it, and I just said, "No," and scurried away from it as quickly as possible. I'm not really sure how it made me feel, but I didn't want to be right there by it at all, and have no desire to stare at a whole in the ground where our whole world changed in one morning.

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I haven't been being a tourist at all. William even laughed at me last night about it. She said, "Have you done anything touristy yet since you've been here this time?" I responded, "I took a walk through Central Park tonight with you." The first time I came to NYC (spring break, 1994), I went to all the Broadway shows (Seven of them!) that I could ever dream of. The next time I came (May 2008), I saw Brooklyn, and the Empire State Building, and Union Square, and Coney Island, and well...I did the tourist thing then. This time, I've been resting--just like I'm supposed to be doing. Sleeping in, reading a whole bunch, writing some, watching DVD's, and just basically chilling out. I did go shopping a whole bunch, but it wasn't on 5th Avenue, so it didn't feel touristy. I walked by the Columbus Day Parade, but avoided it as much as possible because there were too many people.

I might go to the Met and walk on the Brooklyn Bridge sometime in the next few days, I suppose. But I think I'm just as content to curl up with a good book.

Embracing Being Mephibosheth

I heard an amazing sermon last week. I was going to write it out in my journal so that I could return to it whenever I needed to, but decided to do that on the blog instead so that any of you who are still with me might be blessed by it too.

Mark 14:22-24

"And as they were eating, He took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to them, and said, 'Take; this is my body.' And He took a cup, and when He had given thanks He gave it to them, and they all drank of it. And He said to them, 'This is my blood of the new covenant, which is poured out for many.'"

To understand that new covenant that Jesus speaks of in this passage, and how it relates to how we live our daily life, take a look at a covenant relationship from the old testament: David and Jonathan.

1 Samuel 18:1-4

"...the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul...then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt."

David and Jonathan had such a bond in their friendship that the Bible says that it was a "covenant." Imagine two boys cutting their fingers to be "blood brothers." Jonathan, son of the king, gives all he has that shows his royalty to his friend, declaring him part of the family. An adopted son of the king. A blood brother.

1 Samuel 20:8 (When David is explaining to Jonathan that King Saul wants to kill him)

"Therefore deal kindly with your servant, for you have brought your servant into a covenant of the Lord with you. But if there is guilt in me, kill me yourself, for why should you bring me to your father?"

David pleads with Jonathan for kindness according to their covenant relationship...or for Jonathan to kill David himself. It would be more merciful for his blood brother to take his life out his love for him than for him to die from the hand of his adopted father, the king.

Time passes and both King Saul and his son, Jonathan die. David becomes king. It was custom then, for the new king to wipe out entirely the family of the former king so that no one will try to lay claim to the throne. David, the new king, then does something surprising.

2 Samuel 9:1

"And David said, 'Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake'?"

Because of his covenant friendship with Jonathan, King David wants to show kindness for Jonathan's sake. The servants bring in Mephibosheth, who is crippled in both feet.

(Verses 7-8) "And David said to him, 'Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always.' And Mephibosheth paid homage and said, 'Who am I that you should show regard for a dead dog such as I?'...(vs 11)...So Mephibosheth ate at David's table, like one of the king's sons."

Mephibosheth was crippled and viewed himself as a dead dog. The cultural traditions of the times declared that the new king should kill him. But because of David and Jonathan's covenant relationship, David showed him kindness for Jonathan's sake, and treated his a son of the king.

So what does that have to do with us? With the Lord's supper? Plenty. The new covenant that Jesus declared at that table that night was between He and His Father, the blood then poured out for us. In the great mystery that is the Trinity, God the Father and God the Son are David and Jonathan, and they have the covenant relationship of blood brothers.

And we are Mephibosheth. Crippled dead dogs. Lame in both feet. Unable to even walk, and deserving to die at the hand of the king. But He calls us in to eat at His table and treats as sons of the king. He desires to show us kindness for Christ's sake.

Ephesians 4:32

"Be kind and merciful, and forgive others, just as, for Christ's sake, God forgave you."

May we, for Christ's sake, embrace that we are crippled dead dogs who are supping at the King's table, because of His covenant relationship with His Father. May we show kindness, for Christ's sake, to other Mephibosheths, because of His covenant relationship with His Father.

Lost on my way to Hell

I am currently in NYC, one of my favorite places in the USA. Prince(ss) William lives here, as you might remember from this post. I was only here for four days last time, and that simply wasn't enough, so I decided to stay longer for this visit. I really want to dig my heels into the city and enjoy much (not all--ha) that she has to offer.

My first step in that direction was to get from the airport to William's apartment by myself. I owned the Paris metro, so surely I could learn the NY subway. She sent me all the directions, and I felt confident I could follow them and end up on her doorstep completely unaided. I am a self-sufficient big-city woman. I can do this! Or so I kept telling myself.

I sent her a text from the airport that said, "My plane landed. Pray that I won't get lost or mugged." (Someone once told me a story of a suitcase with a dead dog in it and some guy offering to help the girl get the suitcase up the subway stairs and then he ran off with the suitcase...only to discover that it had a dead dog in it! It's actually a funny story, but anyway...I was nervous about someone offering to help me with my suitcase and then running off with it. They wouldn't get a dead dog, and would only get clothes...but then I would be stuck with only the outfit I was wearing. Moving on...) She assured me that I wouldn't get mugged and to call if I got lost.

As I was standing at the subway-card-buying-machine, trying to decide which kind of card I needed, a man walked up and leaned against the machine facing me. Now, in Paris, if this happened, he would have been (a) hitting on me, (b) a drunk trying not to fall over, (c) a bum asking for money, or (d) all three together. The Parisian correct response is to flat out ignore the person, then politely say, "Excusez-moi," and if they still don't move, then to walk away to another machine.

So I completely tensed up when this man walked up and leaned against the machine. Images of NY muggings from various movies flashed through my mind. Shivering in my boots on the inside, I kept a strong face and ignored him. Then I heard him speak. I turned to him to say, "Excuse me," (as if that will convey, "Please stop and go away" in America as it does in France), when I saw he was wearing a name tag badge. I realized he worked for the subway and was trying to help me.

He was very nice and even made me laugh. I got my ticket and then another very nice subway worker helped me know how to scan it in the machine. So maybe riding the NY subway won't be so terrifying after all...

I got on line E and found a seat, to which the woman to my left gave a hefty sigh to show she was irritated that I'd touched her while sitting down. The woman to my right scooted over to give me room. She then pulled out a French Bible and began reading in Proverbs. (Wait a minute...I'm not in France?!) So for a good fifteen stops I read over her shoulder and was encouraged from the Word.

I noticed that the digital screen that listed all the stops said 42nd and Bryant Park instead of 42nd Port Authority--which is where William had told me to get off. Eventually, the train conductor got on the loud speaker and announced that, due to construction, the E train would not go to 42nd Port Authority and to get there, one should exit at 36th Ave (next stop) and switch to the ... and get off at ... and then switch to the ... and get off at...

I was lost.

I jumped up and got off at 36th Ave, thinking that I could figure it out. I'm a self-sufficient, big city woman, right? And people speak English here, so I could ask questions, right? I looked at a sign that explained the construction detour and realized that I couldn't figure it out. Then I looked for a subway map and couldn't find one. I pulled out my phone and had no reception. If I went above ground to have reception, my subway ticket would expire and I'd have to buy another one to get back on. And I'd have to lug my suitcase up the stairs, and thus, possibly get mugged.

I decided to get back on the E train, ride it to 42nd and Bryant Park, and then call William. I mean, how big can 42nd Avenue be? Surely 42nd and Bryant Park had to be closer to 42nd Port Authority than 36th Avenue, which is where I was at that moment. (And I found out later, dab smack in the middle of Queens, and in William's words, "It's a good thing you DIDN'T go upstairs there to call...")

So I got back on the E train. The digital screen had changed, and now 42nd and Bryant Park were 23 stops away instead of 6. I was about to get off again when it changed back and was only 5 stops away. Okay, getting closer. I entertained myself for the 5 stops by reading over the shoulder of a man reading a French newspaper. (Wait a minute...I'm not in France? What are the chances that the two people I sat next to on two different trains were both reading something in French?!) Then the train conductor got on again, made another announcement, and I slowly began to get nervous. The train wasn't going all the way to its end destination, but ending at...the stop just after 42nd and Bryant Park. Oh, good.

I got off at 42nd and Bryant Park, and went to the ticket booth, where I proceeded to call William. I told her where I was and how there was a detour due to construction. She said, "Oh, yeah, I forgot it was the weekend, sorry. I'll be there in a minute to get you."

I sat on my suitcase while I waited for her so that if someone wanted to steal it they were going to have to take me with it. No one looked threatening and I began to relax. Maybe everyone in NYC isn't out to steal my stuff like the movies make it seem. William showed up and led me to her house, where I was happy to arrive...but felt a little deflated that I wasn't able to self-sufficiently navigate the NYC subway like the big-city woman I thought I was. Between the two fears of getting lost and getting mugged, I'm glad that only the first one happened.

Later that night she informed me that she lives in Hell's Kitchen. I may not be the self-sufficient big-city woman who can navigate the NYC subway, but at least I am a good Christian girl who couldn't find her way into Hell. Hardy har har.

things that make you go hmmm...

--Tennis shoes with bounce springs under the heels.

--Flip flops with heels.

--A cheerleader wearing purple house slippers in Verizon.

--Super noisy restaurants.

--Remembering that it's okay to go right on red.

--How big American cars are.

--Pomegranate seems to be the flavor of the month.

--All the flavored iced-teas at restaurants.

--Credit cards, credit cards, credit cards. I think it's a conspiracy. For what, I don't know...

--Meals are fast.

--Cheese tastes funny.

--Walking is not popular.

--Houses are huge enough to have a small country inside.

--Shopping and eating out appears to be the only things to do with people.

--It is possible to survive life without a television--even in America.

--Nobody seems to honk their car horn ever.

--There are so many crickets! Gah! Which is worse--pigeons or crickets? I don't know.

--Americans love color, and that makes me happy.

--Girls wear rubber rain boots with shorts.

--Busy bees, these Americans. Everyone's always on the go. Nobody sits still anymore.

--I was told, "Have a blessed day," when leaving a store, and that made me smile.

Wal-Mart

I haven't been a fan of Wal-Mart since I moved back from Portugal in 2001. It's so big and overwhelming. I miss the interaction with people that seems to happen in smaller shops.

My first morning in the states, however, it was inevitable to go there. I needed essentials like shampoo and contact lens solution, etc. All the things I don't bother to put (half-empty) in my suitcase when coming back to the states.

My dad came with me so that I wouldn't get completely lost in the megastore and end up in tears. (Once, when I couldn't find the eggs in a Wal-Mart, I DID end up in tears. What kind of ding-a-ling can't find eggs? Apparently me.) We found everything I needed relatively quickly...except lotion. We walked up and down each aisle where all human cleansing products can be found until we hit the pet aisle, turned around and tried again. No such luck. Lotion is not with the body wash, shampoo, toothpaste, etc.

Dad says, "Maybe it's in the girly make up section."

Soj says, "But men need lotion too." Confusion sets in.

Sure enough, lotion is in the girly make up section. That's not how I would organize a store, but then again...that's probably why I don't run a Wal-Mart.

We went to check out and, well.

I wanted to prove that I could handle the self check out machine. I'd mastered it in France, surely I can work one in America, right? Wrong.

Everything went fine until we went to scan a phone card and then a phone. The machine buzzed and told us to call over the cashier lady. She came over and typed in her code with her fake rhinestoned fingernails. The machine buzzed at her.

She cussed and re-typed in her code with her fake rhinestoned fingernails. The machine buzzed at her again. She sighed, cussed again, and kept re-typing in her code with her fake rhinestoned fingernails. I was mesmerized by the flashing bling bling on her nails. After many attempts, she called her boss over to help, and they finally moved us to another machine where it worked just fine.

I escaped that first Wal-Mart trip without any tears...despite the not being able to find something, the check out machine not working, hearing the cashier cuss repeatedly, and being hypnotized by fake rhinestone fingernails. (Maybe the hypnotism is what prevented the melt-down?)

I have accompanied others to Wal-Mart several times since then and have been a little amazed. By the bigger-than-my-torso sized tub of Miracle Whip. By the outfits people will wear. By how big and spread out the store seems. By how nothing seems to be placed under the correct sticker price so that you never really know if that's what it costs. By how friendly almost everyone in Wal-Mart (worker and shopper alike) seem to be.

While I'd still rather shop at smaller stores, I have to admit--I don't think Wal-Mart scares me anymore. Score one point for me against Reverse Culture Shock!

Reverse Culture Shock

When you go overseas you expect things to be different. Culture shock comes in various levels (and waves) to each person, according to the culture, to their expectations, and how they are handling being in a different context. I had almost no culture shock when I went to Portugal. I had major shock in the UAE because the stress in my life (caused by job) was not helping me to react so well to things like The Inshallah Mentality and Ramadan (and rats in my ceiling). In France, again, I didn't experience culture shock so much...little waves of it here and there but nothing major.

Reverse Culture Shock--or re-entry--is another story. I get it every time I come back to the states. I've been determined this time around to not let it hit me too hard. I spent the whole summer with Americans, and tried to used that time to prepare myself to be around them all the time. I decided to laugh instead of grumble at the things that would rub me the wrong way. To not gawk at the things that seem bizarre. To not judge--others or myself.

I don't know how well I've done. I do know that I've said, "That's RIDICULOUS!" a million times in the last two weeks as I've seen things that have amazed me (whether good or bad). I have learned from experiences in the past what to avoid so that I don't end up holed up in the bedroom in tears because being in the US makes my head spin.

So...most of the next few posts may be about things that seem common place to you, but they were big deals to me.