Where I Belong

There was a time when I thought Texas was for cowboys and Cowboys, for tumbleweed, for people who liked to say, "fixin' to," because why waste time on the letter "g", people who rode horses to the store and an endless horizon of flat land.

That time was 1992. I was a high school freshman and I thought the Air Force had lost its mind. I was sure they couldn't have known what they were doing, moving a mountain loving girl from Colorado Springs to Dallas. You know, where there were no mountains. Just lots of people with horses and no letter g anywhere on that huge horizon. I liked our life in Colorado, just like I liked our life in South Korea and in Virginia and in all the other places we lived before then. They were all home until the Air Force uprooted us. 

Here's the thing.  I'm not sure I've ever known where home was. My mind alway races when people ask where I am from. Do they want to know where I was born, where I went to high school, what my nationality is?  Is my Mom from North or South Korea?  (SOuth, people, South. NOrth Korea looks down on the idea of leaving.  Think of it as, "SO what, you're leaving?!" And, "NO way you're leaving!" Never say you didn't learn something useful from this blog). Being a military brat meant we lived anywhere from 11 months to three years in a place before the Air Force decided Dad was needed elsewhere.  It never took long to feel like I belonged, but there is a difference between feeling like you're accepted and you belong and feeling like you're each other's people. As in, I get how and why and what they think and I also think like them.

Over the nearly 20 years I lived in Texas, it happened. I felt them becoming my people.  It probably began to take root by my senior year of high school but I nearly missed it when it came down to my college decision...the Air Force Academy or Texas A&M. One offered a $250,000 scholarship, four years in the mountains, men in uniform, a chance to see the world and to continue in our family tradition of serving our country. In the end, oddly enough, it was the lure of the Aggies' "Howdy" tradition that made me choose to stay in Texas.  That and they also had men in uniform. (Tee hee).

I am not really sure how it happened, but the transformation to becoming a Texan became complete when, for my 18th birthday, I asked for WESTERN BOOTS and an ENORMOUS BELT BUCKLE to wear with THE ROCKIES my friends and I wore so that I could go DANCING three nights a week where I could really implement what I was learning in JITTERBUG and COUNTRY WESTERN DANCE LESSONS.

Which becomes a problem when your parents send you to college to learn stuff for your future and things of that nature and all you wanna do is dance, Daddy. It became increasingly clear I wasn't learning enough in class as I ended up on scholastic probation my first semester.

Maybe I should've done a little less boot scootin' and a lot more studying. 

Evidently. 

Anyhow. 

Which of these doesn't belong?



Listen, I know it was the '90s and all sorts of talk of diversity was happening, but there is still something even I find humorous about an Asian chick donning boots and going boot scootin'.

It's okay. You're not racist. I am giving you a pass on that one. 

Somehow, as "Redneck Girl" found its way into my heart as my favorite song, as I began to date a Texas panhandle boy (who wore a uniform...tee hee), as I learned to spell "y'all," as football became so important to me I was hoarse every weekend, as I learned to recognize what a sky looks like before the tornado sirens come on, as I began to call every soft drink a Coke and as I finally ventured beyond chips and salsa in my foray into Mexican food, I became a Texan. I was a candidate for one of those "I wasn't born in Texas but I got here as fast as I could," bumper stickers. Aside from a short stint in Scotland after graduation, from 1992 to 2012, you could find me somewhere within Texas boundaries. Me, Jerry Jones, Dairy Queen and the Alamo.  

Can I just say, I saw a promo for Honey Boo Boo and I had a little concern they might be from Texas but then I was relieved to learn that particular "redneckognize" crew is in Georgia. We dodged a bullet, Texas.

Anyway, if Texas is special (it is), I can't even begin to tell you how special McKinney is. I knew it when we went to a wedding there in 2001 and Brian and I agreed that was where we wanted raise our family. We moved there later that year and my hunch was right. Over the ten years we lived in McKinney, I had more than one conversation with others who sensed the same thing I did - there is something special about that piece of Collin County. There's a reason it is in the top five best places to live in the U.S.  There are just a lot of quality people there and it's a great place to raise a family. But I better hush or y'all will move there and some things are just better left a secret.

And then, in late 2010, God made it clear that our family was moving far away from our beloved Texas and all the loved ones we stocked up there. It most certainly had to be God because nothing could ever move Brian away from his Texas Aggies and Mexican food. Unless Honey Boo Boo lived in Texas and then it might be a different story. 

So, fast forward to 2012, when our family spent our first year in South Africa. What God did was amazing. He took us to a place of belonging and contentment in a short time. So much so that, when we went home in December for a visit, my feelings smacked me in my heart and left me trying to put to words what I was feeling. Why did "home" suddenly pierce my heart after being content for so long on another continent?  What was that feeling that snuck up on me as I drove into McKinney for the first time in nearly a year?  It hit so hard, it made me literally shout at Custer Road, "You are beautiful!" 

A road. I was giddy over a road. And I talked to it like it was a human and I told it it was beautiful. Like I had a crush on it.

What can I say, a finished construction project is a beautiful thing.

I sat up tall and on the edge of my seat that first drive and probably every one after. I was so excited to be among the familiar, among my people.  I wanted to soak it all in and give it a great big hug.   To see and touch the people who have been part of our lives since 2001 and who kept us afloat emotionally because they texted and Facebooked and made us stay connected.   To drive by our old house and see what has changed.  To drive the roads I knew by name instead of forever giving directions according to landmarks.

Like we do here...

"Turn left at the slipway.  Yes, the slipway after the road slightly curves right, you will take that first robot (What is a robot, says America.  It's what we call a stoplight, says South Africa)."

I've had a heck of a time learning street names because, heaven help me, street signs are optional in some parts of the world. 

Then again, in our new town, we have to focus so much on the pavement to avoid potholes, I would never have the time to look for street signs anyway. 

"Yes, take a left at the pothole shaped like a chicken wing, then you take a right just before the pothole shaped like a leprechaun. Hang left again when you get to the pothole where someone has actually potted a plant because Sarcasm begged for it."

Anyway, so here I am shouting proclamations of love at roads and I was left asking myself,

"What is this I am feeling?"

Thankfully, a friend home from Zambia put those feelings to words in a blog post the very next day so I didn't have to. 

I know these feelings she describes. Once we left, I didn't look back. I was wholly and absolutely focused on the joy that was there before me.  And, yes, I missed my family, my friends and my church SO MUCH but there was never a moment when I wanted home over the home God was making for us. People told us we would hit a wall and we never did. God did that for us. He took that which was familiar and comfortable and easy and replaced it with that which was unknown, and hard to understand and challenging. But, there was always peace in the midst of it. He kept us focused here so we wouldn't turn back and wish for there. 

So, thank you, Mitzi, for putting those feelings I had to words so I could really grasp why maybe yelling words of affection at a road was not as absurd as it seemed. 

I spent December content to know that the time we had there was a gift, no matter how short. So, it was a bit of a surprise to me when we neared the end of our trip and I was about to meet some friends a final time and unexpected emotions snuck up on me. Once again, I found myself driving along a road when the question hit me, 

"What is this I am feeling?"  

I had a wonderful time at home but we were also really excited about getting to our new home and getting back to work. I mean, we were E*X*C*I*T*E*D. So, the feeling that hit me was unexpected. Was I longing for home for the first time in a year?  

And then, as I sought desperately to pinpoint what I felt, a song came on and I knew then that God was answering a question I didn't even know how to ask.  It was Building 429"s song, "Where I Belong."

God was taking me back to a place where "Home" is redefined...

"All I know is I'm not home yet"

He was gently reminding me...

"This is not where I belong"

And taking my eyes off the familiar and comfortable and easy...

"Take this world"

And setting my eyes back on Him...

"and give me Jesus.

This is not where I belong."

And, y'all, driving along a road in a place I used to call home, He took what little I've learned of what having a hometown means and, while I still and will always love Texas, He reminded me 

"I have this blessed assurance holding me..."

I'm not Home yet.

How Rumors Get Started

Yesterday afternoon involved a dead car battery on a busy road, getting rear ended by an angry man who couldn't understand why I was inconveniencing him by not moving a car that wouldn't start...so he decided to give me a little nudge...with his front bumper, calling the police because the guy went a little cray-cray, Tyler wanting to do karate on the "mad face man" for yelling at his mommy, two good Samaritans who sided with me and took the brunt of the man's yelling and even got between Mad Face Man and me in case he really lost it, a jump start, deciding to stop at a neighbor's house to fetch a stray frisbee and a couple of balls, meeting his pet monkeys that screeched at us and tried really hard to horizontally aim their urine at us, having the battery die again in his driveway, noticing that our radiator was leaking like rain, sitting in a locked car with pepper spray in hand as I waited for help and, finally, another jump start.

Which might explain why I was out of it and ready for bed by 7 p.m. last night.

Meanwhile, a friend had to pick Noah up from school when all this excitement was happening to Annie, Tyler and me in another town. She had an errand to run so Noah went with her. Unfortunately, when zoning people or landlords or whomever decides these things got together and made plans, they didn't think, "Bank will go here and bakery/laundromat/Hallmark shop/coffee shop/bookstore, etc. will go here."

Or maybe they did but the person pulling for an adult shop won.

Whatever happened, it is an unfortunate fact that there stands an adult shop near the bank where my friend was going. Despite all her efforts to park anywhere but in front of "Adult World," the best she could find was a spot one row over, but with Adult World still in sight.

Unfortunately, Noah learned to read some time ago. Because he's eight. This, coupled with his darling childhood need to know everything, led him to wonder aloud,

"What is Adult World?"

It's possible my friend would've traded places with me right then if she could've, Mad Face Man, monkey urine and all.

So, my friend, who just wanted to make a quick transaction at the bank, found herself trying to explain to a missionary kid she has known about seven weeks what such a business is all about. In her good judgment, she finally replied simply, "It's just a place for adults."

My son, in all his preciousness, got excited, and said, "Oh, yeah, we've been somewhere like that before!"

Oh my word. What?!

I, in all my embarrassment, tried to figure out who/WHAT/how/WHAT/when/WHAT/where did he get confused?

Hair World?

No.

Disney World?

Never been there with the kids.

Sea World?

Maybe?

All I know is, it's going to be really awesome when we have our parent/teacher meetings next week and Tyler's teacher wants to know what's up with the neighbor's dog eating his frisbee and a monkey trying to pee on him after he almost did karate on a mean man on a busy road because mommy's car wouldn't start and leaks green fluid.  ("Yes, ma'am, that really did all happen in a two hour span.
And, yes, ma'am, monkeys can pee horizontally.  I know, I didn't know either.  And, sure, therapy sounds good.") And I look forward to the look of disappointment in Noah's teacher's eyes when she asks what's up with taking him to places like Adult World and mommy collapsing on the couch with a bottle of whiskey at 7 p.m.

Totally kidding on that last part.

That's how rumors get started, you know.

Where's the Beach?

It's all around us!  We arrived at our new home on the east coast and new ministry partner in mid-January after a whirlwind trip home in December. It was such a fast and furious but much-blessed trip to Texas. We even got to see S*N*O*W!

Which seems such a distant memory in the coastal cloak of humidity of our new home, an hour south of Durban. Oh, my word, the sweat.  

The upside to humidity is my hair has gone curly and I go to bed each night not knowing what new level of volume my hair will achieve by morning. 

What I think my hair could look like:

What satan wishes my hair would look like:

What society thinks my hair should look like:

What my hair actually looks like:


Anyhow, December was a blur as we split time between our families in central Texas and the panhandle of Texas. We weren't able to see everyone we wanted to see but when you have a lot of people you love, there is not enough time!  We are thankful for the special memories we made in such a short visit.  We got exciting news of a niece or nephew coming in August (yea, yea, YEA!).  We also got to spend a couple of days making memories at Great Wolf Lodge with my family.  Nothing says "Christmas" like Santa at a water park.  Another special treat happened when a really sweet family gave Brian's whole family free tickets in their suite at Cowboys stadium so we could go to the Cotton Bowl.  We got to watch Heisman winner Johnny Football lead our Aggies to a huge win against the Sooners, which offered some consolation for 
missing the entire season of watching our Ags.  I haven't missed an 
entire season since 1995.  Brian, a second generation Aggie, hasn't 
missed a season since before he even knew what a season was.

Sometimes I wonder if God finds humor in the fact that we spent our first year in South Africa while the Aggies spent their first year in the SEC racking up an 11-2 record and a Freshman Hesiman winner.

Sometimes I wonder.

We are so thankful we got to go home but we were also really itching to get back to South Africa and get back to work!  We are sweating settling in to a new ministry, new province, new church, new school, etc. and we are looking forward to the year ahead! We have partnered with Norwegian Settlers Church, which is no longer made up of either Norwegians or settlers but it is a church that was first started by Norwegian settlers.  And it is chock full of really warm (hearted in case you thought I was still talking about the heat,
which I totally could've been) people who have embraced us and made us feel so welcome already.  God was definitely at work as we transitioned to our new home.  In one week, we:

- packed and re-packed...and re-packed...good gracious, that 50 lb weight limit is a joke.  Don't they know Velveeta cheese and cans of refried beans are essential souvenirs from home?
- said goodbyes to our loved ones and to Freebirds and Taco Bueno
- flew to SA and, just because I have to...the kids made it across the Atlantic with no (ahem) "extended bathroom visits." We are 4 for 4 now!  Yahoo!  Annie shaved it close at Dulles when I had to make a mad dash to the bathroom to change her as they were about to close the gate.  Still, FIST. PUMP.
- arrived at our old home near Jo-burg
- got our things loaded onto a moving truck the next morning
- drove 8 hours to our new town (the kids could hold it for an entire flight across an ocean...the cat could not make it 15 minutes and 
that is all I will say about that except we made that trip in record
time)
- learned what real humidity feels like...you have been put to 
shame, College Station in August
- looked at houses to rent
- chose a house to rent
- moved in the next day
- went to five stores to buy school supplies...I put the "pro" in procrastinator
- labeled school supplies as required by the school (every pencil, uniform, shoe, even crayons...sweet mercy) and, finally,
- started school.

Goodness.   Just remembering that makes my head sweat.

I am so serious that God kept us sane in the insanity!  Writing names on wood pencils in ant-sized print...times 34 pencils.  If I've ever had a moment of near losing my mind while here, that was a contender.

We are so excited to be in Margate and I promise there is much more to share beyond the humidity and the bathroom success stories and failures of our family members. Which, that statement sets the bar so low, you should be ecstatic when I tell you about the roach I killed the other night.

Just let it be known, not everything is bigger in Texas.

Somebody please come take me back to Texas.

I kid, of course!  We miss our J-Life family and the gorgeous farm but we have fallen head over heels with the new ministry God brought us to and I can see myself maybe learning to love the ocean. Idk. For me, oceans have always meant sharks, salt water that makes you sticky and sand that makes its way into "crevices"  and is so far gone, recovery is unlikely and you may as well say a eulogy for it.

Anyway. The bottom line is, if they sometimes film Shark Week in our waters, I say the sharks can have our waters. We will keep playing on the sand that we are eulogizing.  

Some people take their family to the beach to play in the ocean. We take our family to the beach to stay on the beach. 

As for what life on the coast looks like for us, we will share details in coming days.  Living in a town instead of the farm provides us much more opportunity to develop even more relationships and we are extremely thrilled about the work God's given us!

Praises

- the transition could not have gone smoother

- we love our landlady and her family

- the boys are settling into their new school and making friends

- God's affirmation in our move

- gift of being able to jump right into ministries that fit our passions
- we haven't seen any sharks yet

- they have monkeys here

- deodorant and cold showers, even if the water is brown

Prayers

- protection...living in a town means we have to be more aware

- wisdom as we begin discipling the youth leaders 

- provision of sports camp counselors for our June camp.  We are praying for 24 counselors and have about 8 confirmed. Please let us know if you know college age-ish fun people with a heart for youth and missions. Athletic background is a plus as it's a sports camp but that is not the highest priority. 

- God's guidance as Kenneth and Teri Ussery lead a team here in June.  We are soooooo excited about hosting a team from our church!  Pray for God to build the team with skill sets we need...making kids feel special, compassion for the hurting and light construction experience.  

- for the teams from Hulen and Rockwall coming next week to be so blessed as they come to bless others. Pray for their prep and time here.

- for our parents and siblings as we are apart