Gobsmacked!

[Sorry friends! This should have posted August 4th, somehow it got stuck in draft mode.]

I have been very privileged to travel to many corners of this world. I have seen many beautiful places in far flung locations. The glowing limestone walls of Jerusalem at sunset, the rolling hills outside Brno covered in red poppies in spring time, the Julian Alps freshly covered in snow, the thick lush green of Tryon Creek forest. Added to this prestigious list today is the countryside just outside Tegucigalpa at daybreak. Clouds were hanging low, hugging the curves of the hills, the sun painting the clouds in shades of pink and gold. The trees glinting in the early morning light. We left the hotel at 5 am to head out to Corralitos. I brought with me my IPhone, a book, a few magazines, all of which to entertain myself on the ride; none of it was needed - I just sat staring out the window in awe of the beauty. I had stashed my bag with my cameras in the back of the truck, out of reach, so I can't share the glory of the morning, but I don't think the magnificence could have been captured. It was so stunning!

By the time we arrived at abuela (grandmother; g'ma to Edwin and Miguel Fugon) Gloria's home in Corralitos the sun had been up for many hours. Three U-turns and a questionable road gave us the opportunity to take the scenic route which I thoroughly enjoyed. Abuela's house is on the side of a mountain, overlooking a steep valley and opposing hillside. The view was worth a million bucks, her house was not. We had come up here, to a spot that felt a world away from the city, to build her a new home - in a day. It wouldn't be much of a home by our American standards - an 18x20 square foot room, but for abuela - it was a palace and an answered prayer. The house she had been living in wasn't much bigger, if at all, but it was built on the ground, just dirt for floors, the wood had dry rot and was falling apart, the roof leaked so that when it rained instead of sleeping at night she would have to sit up in a corner to do her best to stay dry. She now has a home with a wood floor that is elevated off the ground, a metal roof to keep the rain out - a safe and dry place where she can sleep no matter the weather.

Today it hit me - between building this house for abuela and helping build the foundation for Ana's house - we are God's answer and provision to these two women. Our team isn't doing anything amazing or significant, we are each contributing a small effort, whatever we are capable of. Together it adds up to a house or a rock retaining wall. But that is the normal reality of the Christian life; being the hands and feet of Christ to this world. We are obedient in the small things, the trivial matters, we give what we can - and God works through that and converts it in His economy to create an answer to a multi-year long prayer and blesses the socks off these women. I don't know that I have ever been able to take what I've done in the past few hours and confidently say, 'I was part of God answering this person's prayer.'

I couldn't do much and felt pretty useless today. My hands were hurting and the wrists aching, hammering would not have been an unwise choice, but that is what was mostly needed for this project. While the post holes were being dug and the lumber carried down and put in place I talked with abuela, learning about the plants in her yard. She has her very own coffee plants! She grows her own coffee! The coffee addict in me really wished she would have offered a cup of her homegrown brew. But for a gal who harbors a fantasy to start an organic, shade grown, fair trade coffee co-op adjacent to Micah and VLM I was pretty excited just to see and touch a real coffee bush. I also learned about a different variety of cilantro than what I ever knew existed, tried raw sugar cane, and pure extracted cane juice boiled into a block. (Did you know I am allergic to sugar cane? I wasn't about to say no to our gracious host though.) I am so glad I got an opportunity to just spend time with her; she is a pretty incredible woman.

My two big highlights of the day:
1) Abuela must have been watching me roast hot dog after hot dog over the open fire for peoples lunch, but not see me eat the first one I cooked. As people ate their fill and went back to work, the crowd waning, I worked on repairing one of the roasting sticks to finish up cooking the dogs, abuela decided it was time for me to eat. She walked right up to me, grabbed me firmly by the wrist and pulled me into her home and motioned for me to serve myself some of the soup she had made. Although I had no idea what she was saying, unsure if it was totally safe or what the "meat" was, I knew she was going to be adamant, there was nothing to do but eat the soup. Don't mess with grandma!

2) At the end of the day we 'presented' Gloria with her new home and prayed for her. As she tried to express her thanks she was so overcome with emotion that she broke down crying. This strong, confident, capable mountain woman buried her petite head into Brian's chest like a child, using his t-shirt to daub away her tears.

Abuela Gloria cuts up some
sugar cane for us to enjoy.

The old

The new (almost complete)

Tears of Joy

August 1st Highlights

Today was the first day the team split into groups to cover three different areas: VBS, street/dump food delivery, and construction. My group started with a walk from the hotel to the market area where the boys who come to Friday night soccer typically hang out. There were not many today but we still quickly ran out of the baleadas. I took out my camera and they all wanted their picture taken - multiple times. I was happy to oblige. But at one point a kid who wasn't familiar to me was asking for his picture to be taken but he wanted to take pictures too, I think. I didn't pick up what he was saying very well. But Juan Carlos did and he quickly was at my side with his arm around my waist. Hmmm... something was up. I heard JuanCa say "mi hermana" and the guy looked at me suspiciously and told Juan he was lying. I interjected "No, Juan Carlos es mi hermano." I don't know what Juan saw or heard, but I am so grateful for my Honduran brother who is watching out for me and protecting me.

I had a moment of personal victory today. As I sat on the ground next to Michael Miller to eat lunch, little Nicole who had been my shadow on Saturday got up out of his lap and in a sing-song voice said "Jen-ne-fir!" and plopped herself in mine. My lap won over Michael's?!?! Remarkable!!!

I could also talk about sweet little Dulce who I played with at AFE, but I'll let a picture do the talking - once I can post it.

Home Coming

As we walked off the airplane and I looked out at the lush green hills, they were familiar; I was coming back, back to a place I know and where people know me. The customs guy was surprised that I was coming back for a third time, "You must like Honduras?" "Yes, very much, I have some special friends who live here." And as I walked out to the meet & greet area I got to hug and squeeze those special friends. It was like coming home.

The best hug didn't happen until later that day. We drove up to the Micah house for dinner and as I sat in the back row waiting for my turn to get out I heard from Mitch up front "Hey, there's Hauner!" I started desperatly trying to get the back door of the van open but my impatience was thwarting my efforts. Finally someone else got it open and I scrambled out as fast as I could, hitting Becca in the process. I squatted down so Hauner could see me around other people and set an extra bag down on the ground so both arms would be free. We locked eyes and burst into smiles and ran at each other. As I got close I leaped at him,wrapping my arms around his neck tight while he held me tight and swung my legs like a pendulum. "I miss you so much, mamí!" All night I could not stop hugging Hauner every chance I could. I've missed my boy.

My heart is so full.

A day in the life...

Living in cubicle land has it's disadvantages -or advantages, depending on how you see them. One is the ability to hear one side of a conversation. Today, lots of people were having phone calls that were just inappropriate to have in "the open." There was one fella from the other side of the building who decided to not bother his co-workers with his phone call by come to the other side of the building. Wasn't that considerate? Jon and I got to listen to this guy argue and apologize profusely to whoever was on the other end of the phone. It was really entertaining and gave us lots of fodder to joke around with. But Jon always has the best lines. Read this:

Jon Tasker [2:43 PM]:
i wonder if people like that ever regret moving down here now?! I've heard more cell phone arguments that I ever heard before at the other place...now that we have no doors.
Jennifer Streger [2:44 PM]:
If only he knew how much entertainment value he was providing
Jon Tasker [2:45 PM]:
ha, maybe we should bring that up somehow...that one of the positives of moving to this crack infested, fake pink noise, sweat shop layout is that we get to hear our executive leaders argue on their cell phones like 4 year olds.
Jennifer Streger [2:46 PM]:
you kill me

Thankful Tuesday

#66 Recognition and accolades for a hard year and job well done at work.
#67 A great group of people to travel to Honduras and work with.
#68 Roommate assignment - Charissa!
#69 Devotional partner - Marissa!
#70 New camera!! Now to learn how to use it.
#71 Financial generosity of so many people, what a blessing to have all these people's support.

Thanks for Siblings & Exhibiting

#64 My brother visited home for a week.

Historically, my brother and I have not gotten along. We have a fierce sibling rivalry, even as adults, although we sound more like middle school students than 30-something adults. We attribute it, in part, to the 4 ½ year age gap that led to a difference of 6 grades; so when I went off to college, Chris was just starting junior high. It makes a difference. But add in the difference in how we were raised, and most of all the differences in our personalities – and the similarities for that matter, and the dynamic can be volatile. I generally look forward to my brother’s visits with a combination of eagerness and dread. Chris is the funniest person I know, he thoroughly entertains me. But he also tends to be temperamental and moody, easily angered. Since Chris moved away four years ago he has come home to visit for July 4th every year. This year he arrived on July 5th and stayed the rest of the week. There was something different about him this time, mom and I both remarked on it, yet we can’t quite put our finger on it. He was mellow, not that he didn’t have a couple outbursts, engaged with the family, friendly, and just plain fun to have around. I was actually really sad to say ‘good-bye.’ And so, I am incredible grateful for my brother’s visit.

#65 Micah Project will be one of the exhibitors at The Justice Conference.

In February I went to the inaugural Justice Conference sponsored by World Relief and it was the best conference I had ever been to, hands down, no competition. Best. Ever. Thanks in large part to Dr. Wolterstorff. I was thrilled when they announced they were going to do a second conference in 2012. When they put out the announcement that they were opening up applications for exhibitors, I decided Micah Project should be among them. After getting the approval from Michael, I quickly submitted the application, and yesterday got the official acceptance. Micah Project will be among the exhibitors February 24+25, 2012!

Counting Down the Days

Only a couple more weeks until Honduras!

Over the last few weeks I’ve been thinking about the “why” of support raising. For those who are not familiar with this aspect of the evangelical church, it probably seems really weird to ask others to pay for a ‘trip.’ I would agree; it is a weird notion, rather anti-American as well. We value being independent, fiscally responsible, and self-sufficient. Raising support seems to be the opposite, almost downright greedy, when viewed through the American cultural lens. But how do you explain the rationale and logic if we don’t share a Biblical context? That is the crux of the question I’ve been wrestling with lately. Sure, having supporters helps alleviate the financial pinch if I had to cover the cost myself, and that is nice. But the benefit and purpose, from my viewpoint, is that I know that I’m not doing this alone. It’s the difference between an individual sport and a team sport.

 As I’m writing this I have the Tour de France coverage playing on TV. Bicycling is a unique sport in that it is an individual effort, but everyone is on a team (so my analogy may quickly break down). Each team has a “star” rider, if this person crashes the rest of the team slows down, comes around the star and helps bring them back into the pack – they are the domestiques. They’ll let the leader draft from them so that he doesn’t have to expend all his energy to get back on his own. It’s up to the star rider to catch up to the team, to put in effort, to push his limits at the finish line, but the team works together for a common goal of getting the leader to the finish line. While each rider is accountable only for himself when he crosses the finish line, he probably wouldn’t have even started the race if he didn’t have a team. The team provides the accountability to train, workout, improve technically, eat right, and be prepared when race day comes.

My analogy is getting convoluted so let me get to the point – while I could do this on my own, I do not want to, I want a team of people to come around me, support me, be my domestiques  =) , and primarily – hold me accountable. If I have people that I am accountable to, I am going to be sure to put in the hard work of preparing, of giving my all while in Honduras, pushing myself to my absolute limits and then beyond – because I have people to answer to for my choices. It is really quite humbling to ask for support, to admit that I really can’t do this alone, but I can’t – and so I am asking for your support.

There are multiple ways you can support me, the main two being financially and prayer. I received a summary yesterday of the donations thus far and I am just over half way to my $1900 expenses. The church asked that all donations be sent by June 30th – but that was a semi-soft deadline. If you believed you missed the opportunity before – don’t worry there is still time! If you would like to support me, ask for a donation form, print it out and fill in your information, follow the directions of how to fill out the check and mail it to Grace Point Community Church by Monday, July 11th. I’ll be given my final summary on Sunday the 17th and that is the real final-final deadline. Prayer support is also key and even more important than finances, even though that is what I have been focusing on. Other ways could be donations of goods or services, words of encouragement, etc.  Simply – I need your support, any which way you can give it.

Love-Laugh-Live ~ Jenn

Returning to My Heart

#63 I am soooooooooo grateful for an opportunity to return to Honduras this summer, return to my heart.

Dear Family of Friends,
What a difference a year makes! This time last year as I prepared to make my first trip to Honduras to work with The Micah Project* I had no idea what to expect and was anxious and nervous about meeting the guys. Now, as I prepare to make my third trip down, I can barely contain myself I am so eager to get back to "my boys." The Micah boys and young men have become part of my life in a way that even I didn't quite anticipate; which is evidenced by the large pictures hanging on the wall of my dining nook, decorating my fridge, the walls of my cubicle at work, along with a digital photo frame that rotates mostly snapshots of Micah, and my phone.

A week ago I wasn't sure how or when I was going to get back down to Honduras. I had been planning all year to go again with my church in August, but they had to postpone the trip. With a hope and a prayer, I contacted another church in Tigard that was sending a team this summer to see if I could possibly join them. It was a long shot, but God was preparing a spot for me on the team. What seemed like a fantasy within the last week has become reality. I am joining the team late, and now I need to 'catch up.'

Here are the particulars: I will be going with Grace Point Community Church. I am team member #19 (I like prime numbers!) - it's a large group. We will be going in the middle of the summer (for security reasons, I am leaving the dates out.). We will split the majority of our time between construction work on the new Micah home and children's ministry in the Villa Linda Miller community, adjacent to the new Micah location.  We will also join in for Friday night soccer with the street kids, and likely do some other street ministry. As always the overarching objective is to build relationships with the Micah boys and staff. My expenses for this outreach are $1900. Remember how I said that I need to catch up? Yeah... I need to have all my funding in by June 30th. I am looking to build a team of 30 people who can donate $20, 15 who are able to do $50, and 5 who are willing to give $100. If you would like to be part of my team, please email me and I will send you instructions. Finances are important, they make the plane ticket possible, but prayer is vital - if you want to be part of my prayer support team and receive updates, please email me and let me know.

Love-Laugh-Live, Jennifer

*If for some reason you are not familiar with the Micah Project, call me up, I'll take you for a coffee and tell you all about it!

Never Say Never

I use the Nike+ program to track my walks/runs. Mostly walking these days, training for the Eugene Women's Half Marathon on September 4th. That race is my next goal, with a goal of finishing around 3:10 or under - hopefully right at 3 hours. July 4th I'll do the Sauvie Island Flat Half, that's just for fun. I have a warped sense of fun. My second next goal is to run the Holiday 10k. All that to say, I log a lot of miles into Nike+. I also get emails from the program, the latest one was about a competition on the Nike Running Facebook page. This week's challenge was to post a picture of your run where you finished faster than you started. I deleted the email, "I never finish faster!" What a ridiculous notion!

Saturday morning the training group that I am part of, Foot Traffic University, met at the Pumpkin Patch on Sauvie Island for a little preview run/walk of the Flat Half; a straight out and back of the final three miles. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining gloriously, the breeze was just a bit cool so I didn't get too hot. My only complaint was the lady who steered her old white Aerostar van right at me, nearly pegging me. Thankfully on race day, cars will not be allowed on the road. Using the Nike+ GPS app on my IPhone I get feedback every 15 minutes of how much time has elapsed, mileage covered, and average pace. I start slow and after a mile or so, I start to warm up and get into my groove. On Saturday, my groove was groovy. I felt really good, strong, and capable - despite the short night of sleep. At mile 3 when I start to level out, I started to notice that my average pace was increasingly going down. This trend continued for the next three miles. I had to stop at one point - I had rubbed my eye and dislodged my contact, in case it fell out I had to stay put. But I could feel it was still in my eye, just stuck somewhere, so I quickly started up again. The last mile I had to keep myself from running, my legs were turning over fast as they could. To my complete astonishment I ended my 6 mile walk with my fastest average (walking only) pace ever.

I had just done, what I thought I never did.

So what else have I not done, because I believed I wasn't capable?

Today, I took a snapshot of my splits and entered the contest!

Clown Cup Cakery

My co-worker Kristi is a great friend. For her birthday I bake something special. This year, I took a stab at a new recipe from a link that a friend had posted on Facebook. Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough Cupcakes - it sounded delicious! Something amazing for an amazing friend. It required two steps.


The first step is to make cookie dough - but without the baking powder, soda, or the egg, substituting milk for the eggs. Then scoop, roll, and shape. Place on the mat and freeze.

After the cookie dough is good and frozen - the next day for me - it's time to make the cupcake batter and place the logs of frozen cookie dough in the middle. I was rather skeptical of them turning out at this point.

But after they came out of the oven, my skepticism disappeared. I was hoping that all evidence of the cookie dough would disappear, but just a little flirted at the top, hinting at the surprise within.

Top off with a little cookie dough buttercream and some mini chocolate chips and they are looking tasty! So tasty that I had to take a bite. After all, they needed a taste test before I offered them to my co-workers.

Oh. My. Goodness!! Look at that little burst of cookie dough in the middle, offering a delightful surprise in an otherwise ordinary looking cupcake. That was the most amazing bite of my life! Seriously. I don't know that I have ever tasted anything quite so good, and it will take something amazing to top it. Best cupcake - EVER!

Now, if the cupcakes weren't incredibly awesome enough on their own, some also had an adorable clown decoration to make them perfect. Perfect in so many ways. Kristi, the birthday girl of honor, and Lindsay another co-worker with a birthday over the weekend, do not like clowns. It is an on-going joke between myself and several co-workers; I like clowns, want to be a clown, and several co-workers can't stand them. Adding to the clowniness, another good friend has a birthday coming up at the end of the week, so I made a few extra for him, a member of the Rose Festival Clown Corps.

Am NOT!!

I am attending my 20 year high school reunion this weekend; one of two this summer. Lucky me! I went to two high schools so I get double the delight. I actually haven’t decided if I’ll attend Lake Oswego’s reunion in August even though I spent most of my school years with them. Oddly, the school that I spent one year at, Westside, has more pull, and that is the reunion happening tomorrow. Those who I regretted losing contact with from LO, I have been reunited with through the wonder of Facebook. 

Do the math: 20 years since high school + the average age of a high school graduate (although I was not typical and was young for my grade) = 37 years. Yes, I am in my late 30’s and in a couple months that last number will bump up by one when my birthday rolls around. That is the age of someone who is mature, responsible, has their life together and knows the path they are on… an adult; words that do not describe me, yet that is my age. Among my former classmates at Westside is the current principal of the school, of the LO classmates one is a grandmother – a GRANDMOTHER!! I’m still hoping that I might start a family and someone I grew up with has a grandchild? That is more than my mind can handle. Yet, I claim a pair of brothers at age 21 & 22 as my boys. Then there are the 20 other boys of Micah that I feel like I share some partial parental responsibility for and am eagerly trying to figure out a way to do more and take on more of a share. But they aren't really my children and I am attending this reunion alone - as the single, never married, childless person that I am. The only one in my class, as far as I know. It feels slightly awkward. My method of coping - a manicure and pedicure after work. If nothing else it will make my purple toenails less horrifying. Looking down and seeing bring happy pink makes me feel good.

I suppose that I am responsible at work – I completed my annual professional goal today. A year of test building efforts are done, new tests ready to be taken by students across the nation – and the world. Today I answered a question from one of our partners in Chile. I tried to advocate that they needed a personal response and that the company should send me down for a week. But I spent this week without my partner in crime. And by the end of the week I was fried and a little annoyed that Jon has been gone for the last seven work days. In response I left him a friendly message to come back to; now is that a sign of consideration and maturity or what?

There are several sayings about age being relative, my favorite is "Act your shoe size." You can call me old, that's fine, I'll just respond with "Am NOT!"

Saturday... and the League of Justice

I guess a theme is developing around days of the week. Saturday I went out to lunch with my mom. For two hours I talked almost non-stop. Those of you who know me well are probably questioning that comment and think I'm making it up. I know, it is rare, but every once in a blue moon I talk a blue streak. As I said 'good-bye' I apologized for monopolizing the conversation and commented, "Saying everything out loud, my life sounds kind of like a soap opera." My mother too quickly agreed. Gee! Thanks, mom! "I can't believe I talked the whole time! Can you tell Jon is gone?"
Yes, Jon is gone. I took him and his wife, Missy, to the airport at the unreasonable hour of 5:30am on Thursday. They'll be back, but not until next weekend. I'm facing an entire week on my own at work. It makes me realize how much I depend on Jon, not only for work but for a social outlet too. Actually, I had to face this a month ago. He took a half week off for two weeks in a row, and when he was in the office, I was home sick. We went for two weeks without seeing each other. The first Monday we were both back in the office we talked like a couple magpies for an hour before getting to any work. Jon made the comment over Communicator a little later about how long it had been since we'd seen each other. I typed back: "I know! I've missed you!" His head reared back and brow furrowed in confusion as he gave me a quizzical look. "It's not the same around here without you." Jon, Jon, Jon... our relationship is beyond definition. Missy told me Thursday that I am his "office wife." I am not comfortable with that. I always wanted a twin brother like my mom. If I could choose, I'd choose Jon to be my twin. Which is why I call Jon my Wonder Twin. They may not be the coolest superheros in the halls of the Justice League, but it suits Jon and I. We work better together - Wonder Twins powers activate!

Wednesday, really?!

This morning I woke up after an exhausting dream emotionally drained and disappointed with reality. I had been dreaming that I was at the Micah house loving and hugging my boys, but I was there for a funeral – which is what caused me to start my day zapped. As I contemplated what to wear today, I checked my calendar to see what meetings I had – can I go a little sloppy or do I need to spiff it up? As my phone opened up my list of appointments I was shocked to see that it was only Wednesday. What? How can that be? I’m spent. I’ve got nothing in my tank. How can it ONLY be Wednesday?
I trudged through the morning, mostly in a fog; sometimes spaced out and other times just wanting to curl up into a corner and cry my eyes out. I commented to someone that “…it has been a roller coaster of a week – and it’s only Wednesday.” It has been a week, five days, filled with self-doubt and frustration. The roller coaster started with totally bonking my 11.5 mile training walk on Saturday morning. Bonking as in, so severely hydrated I ended up curled up on the floor of Foot Traffic out of it. Our coach had to force me to drink some Nuun water, bring me wet paper towels to cool off, and care for me. Embarrassing! Slowly, after about an hour, I started normalizing and could sit up without seeing stars –or just blackness.  But I had to call my parents to come rescue me and take me home. This was only 11.5 miles, how do I expect to do 13.1 in a month? I’ve become this dehydrated once before, six years ago, while doing the very race I’m training for now. Self-doubt accompanied by fear about my ability to do the Flat Half this July 4th is nagging me still. The rest of Saturday and most of Sunday were spent in a haze of exhaustion. But Sunday night my blood boiled as a guy-friend and I clashed, yet once again. We have been friends for many years now, last fall the friendship took on a different nuance, one that I have not figured out how to navigate. After we both spewed words at each other sourced out of anger, hurt, and frustration, we said good-night in a huff. Monday night I was still upset, but also regretting my attitude, behavior and choice of words. But that didn’t stop me from imagining his face as the target for my punches as I powered through the end of my workout. By Tuesday afternoon I was left with just regret for my part and sent an email apology, sparse on words as my words tend to get me in trouble. Tuesday evening I went out with a group of friends from work to celebrate Michelle’s new adventure; she and her family are moving to Moscow – as in Russia, not Idaho – to teach at an International school. She met her Peruvian husband while they were teachers at an International school in Spain, had their first child while teaching in China, now that their second child is nearly potty trained, why not head to Russia? Sounds like a great plan to me. While I do not know Michelle as well as I would like, I will miss her and frankly I’m a bit jealous. I want an adventure of my own, to be moving internationally, to take on new challenges, mix up the status quo and break out of the norm. I left our party a little melancholy, wondering if I will have the guts to act when my opportunity does come. Noticing that my gas tank was nearing empty I knew just what to do to cheer up – visit my local Chevron and see my gas station boyfriend, Manuel. Ah, yes. Being called “princesa,” told that I’m beautiful, have lovely eyes, and as I drive away hearing him yell, “I love you!” couldn’t help but cheer me up and bring a smile to my face as I laughed over his antics. Once home, I had one chore to do before bed, pack up all the clothes that my mom and I were donating to Dress for Success; a couple co-workers were organizing a clothing drive the next day. I started sorting through my clothes which I didn’t think would be emotional, but I was very wrong. I have recently lost a lot of weight, I plan to lose more, and consequently a lot of my clothes do not fit anymore. I knew this, which is why I was planning to give them away to a good cause. But actually taking them off my wood hangers and putting them on plastic hangers and placing them in the give-away pile was difficult and frightening. “What if I can’t do it? What if I fail and gain all this weight back? I really like this skirt, maybe I could tailor it; maybe I should keep this just in case.” The last three months I have discovered a self-discipline and determination that I didn’t know I had, that I had always admired in my grandmother and wished I had inherited. Apparently I just needed to choose to have it. After much debating, putting things back on the closet rod, back in the pile, back on the rod, and finally in the “go” pile, I came to the conclusion that I have been doing it, I will continue to make the right choices, and I will be successful and will not need these clothes ever again. But the emotional journey to get to that decision was exhausting! I collapsed into bed an hour past my bedtime with the back seat of my car piled with clothes ready to pass on to someone else. Then that dream, both wonderful and dreadful all at the same time. My deep longing to be with my boys, hugging Miguel, taunting Joel, laughing with Hector, and in my dream there was no language barrier, but the shadow of a funeral added an oppressive feel to the dream. With all of this in the last five days, is it any wonder that I woke up exhausted, tired and surprised that it was only Wednesday?
I went to lunch with two co-worker friends and that was good to get out of the building, walk a little, talk with people, my spirits started to revive. In the afternoon I had a phone appointment. I took my laptop and phone into one of the mini-conference rooms so that I had some privacy. I had asked the leader of the Honduras mission team from Grace Point Community Church if I could join their team as River West had decided not to go this summer. Much to my surprise he was open to the idea, but wanted to talk to me about it further. After a half hour of chatting, it was decided that I would join their team. I was thrilled to have a plan for getting back to Honduras! Aaron had emailed Brian to see if adding another person to the already large group of 18 would cause problems with the logistics; Brian answered back, ‘Jenn is a rock star and we’d love to have her on the team.’ That made my day! It seems like God was making a way for me ahead of time. The GPCC team had to reserve their air tickets a month or so ago, but recently one of the team members needed to make other plans to come back early to be the best man in a wedding, so they purchased another ticket for him, which left one “extra” ticket in the group reservation.  A ticket that will now have my name on it!  My morning started with just dreaming about hugging my boys and is ending with the elation of having a date when I will actually be able to wrap my arms around them and squeeze them tight. Wednesday didn’t turn out so bad after all.

Friday Funny

I have taken on an unofficial job responsibility at work of sending out the "Friday Funny," an email with a video link, cartoon, cute animal picture, or some such web nonsense that will elicit at least a smile if not a full on chuckle from my work-mates. My team is often stressed and a bit frazzled by the amount of work and deadlines that we have to deal with; we need to lighten up, and people put funny things out there. You won't find "Send Friday Funny email to team" in my job description, but it is expected of me as if it were written in stone. Teammates send me material and suggestions for future emails. Throughout the week I keep a watchful eye out for good fodder. Unwittingly, my brother is my biggest helper in fulfilling this duty. His Twitter and Facebook feed is my most common source of material. He is the funniest person I know, and he finds good stuff. I enjoy sending these emails – I enjoy making people laugh. The best part happens within the first 10 minutes after I send it out, as I hear laughter randomly pop from different cubicles across the normally 'quiet as a library' floor. 
Here's an example from this week's email. Enjoy!

Love on the winds of Petrol

Thanks to my new commute and my second job which sends me in three different directions I have to fill up my car with gas much more frequently. I get great mileage but I find myself hunting for a gas station almost once a week now. Quite the change from my 3-4 week interval when the office was just a few miles down the road. My goal is to find the cheapest gas but sometimes my hunt outlasts my gas tank and I have to resort to whatever is convenient so that I can actually make it to work the next morning. And what is often the most convenient is the Chevron just down the street from my house. It isn’t the cheapest but it is the most entertaining. And when I need a little affection, I know where to steer my car – straight to my gas station boyfriend at the Chevron!

I found myself in need of gas the other night; it was later in the evening so my best option was the Chevron. As I pulled in next to the pump I spotted my boyfriend, not in need of affection I didn’t put my window all the way down hoping that would deter him. Manuel was excited to see me, “Hello my friend!” “Hola, amigo.”  “I have not seen you in long time.” “I’ve been here, you have not.” I passed him my debit card and asked him to fill it up with regular. As he gave me my card back he mentioned that it was going to be his birthday the next day. “Really? It was your birthday the last time I was here!” He started laughing and reached in my window to squeeze my shoulder. Hm… guess having the window only half way down was not enough of a deterrent to touch me. “You come celebrate with tequila?” “It’s not your birthday.” “No, but you can come for tequila.” For some reason I started to wonder if I had his name correct. I’ve been calling him Manuel for awhile but suddenly I doubted if that was right. “Como se llama?” (Aren’t you impressed that I’m starting to actually try out my feeble Spanish with actual native speakers?!) He gasped, “What?” “Que es su nombre?” He acted hurt, taking quick gasps of air, “You no remember my name? You no know my name?”  “I think I do, but I am not sure.” “What you think?” “Manuel?” Looking pained, he responded “Ohhhh!! You no know my name!” As he walked to the other side of the pump to assist another customer he yelled over his shoulder, “You not my friend! You not my friend! But I love you.” I couldn’t help but laugh.

After getting the other car started he came back around and unzipped his coat to show me his name badge – Raphael. I’ve been calling him the wrong name all this time! But I think I’ll still call him Manuel, it suits him better. He then replaced the gas cap and handed me my receipt which was followed with his arm reaching in around my shoulders awkwardly through the limited  window opening to give me a hug.  “Bye bye. See you soon. I love you!” Through fits of laughter and shaking my head, “Adios amigo.” Yes, it is definitely worth the extra dollar for the entertainment.

Jon brings the entertainment

It was a lovely sunny day in Stumptown. The bright blue skies beckoned, my skin was craving to feel the sun and it's warmth. As lunch time rolled around I informed Jon that I was going for a long walk and hitting Starbucks on the way back. Would he like to join me or bring back a drink for him? He opted to come along for a stroll. We joined the throngs of other people along the waterfront marveling at the sun. I asked if he watched "The Voice" last night; we had both caught the last portion of it. I asked if he knew any of the judges - Christina Aguilera I knew, but not any of the guys. A barrage of questions came from Jon. "What? You don't know Adam?" "No." " Maroon 5. You've heard of them" "No." "What? You've never heard of Maroon 5? They're big. And you know Cee Lo." "I do?" "YES! Remember I sent you that video link awhile ago with the song that had all the swearing." "Oh, yeah! That's why the song sounded familiar." Jon and I discussed what a funny shape Cee Lo is - it's like his arms are too short for his body. Jon told me about his Grammy performance, for which he dressed up like a peacock which made Blake Shelton's comment last night make sense. And how he got started as part of Gnarles Barkley - Jon knows quite a bit about the guy.

Jon and I continued walking and talking, there is rarely a lack of words and topics. We did hit a Starbucks on our way back to the office for an afternoon caffeine pick-me-up. Once back in the office Jon took it upon himself to familiarize me with Cee Lo.  He was certain that I should know him. Jon started IMing me.

Jon: this song?  Remember it or no?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bd2B6SjMh_w
As I start to listen, I shake my head no.
Jon: not even THAT one?!
But then the refrain kicked in and I did start to recognize it. 
Jon: did you like his other song [Forget you]?  if he didn't swear and offend your little old lady ears?
When I read that last line I let out a loud burst of laughter that rang out across the whole office floor and I broke down into a hysterical fit of laughter until I was collapsed over the side of my chair crying. Where does he come up with this stuff?  But thanks to Jon I have had "Forget You"  - the clean version from the Grammy's (wouldn't want to offend my little old lady ears) - stuck in my head all afternoon. 

In retaliation I threw a little Laker smack his way. Jon, being a fairly recent So.Cal. transplant to Rip City has not been able to switch his team allegiance to the Trail Blazer and continues to support the Lakers, which is nearly a crime in my opinion. We've been talking smack about each other's teams for months now. I can count on always hearing the retort - "Well, you're originally from LA too!" Yeah, great come back dude! I'll text Jon after the Lakers lose a game, but he never responds, which slightly diminishes my enjoyment of gloating, but not so much as to make me stop. A couple weeks ago we started using our CSA weekly reporting as another platform to get a dig or two in; and using team colors to distinguish between our data. But here I have a distinct advantage as he fills it in first and then send it to me, and I forward it on to our manager, copying him. After I sent the email today I waited anxiously for him to open it. I was not disappointed, I knew exactly when he read it because he started really laughing. It's not often I get him laughing hard.
Today's email included this:

(For those who don't know - the guy is Mark Cuban, owner of the Dallas Mavricks who beat the Blazers in the first round of the playoffs, and are now trouncing the Lakers - much to my delight.)

My Winning Week

The joke in my family is that my younger brother has all the luck, and if anything can go bizarrely wrong - it will happen to me. But this past week was different. Last week I was a winner! Not just for a day. It was a winning week! (So this is what it feels like for those who have everything come easy for them. This is what it's like for my brother all the time.)
It started with getting a new lawn on Monday. It looks so good!
A friend wandered back into my life on Tuesday.
I was invited to a graduation party for a college friend, and when I RSVP'ed my acceptance the enthusiastic response from the hostess - another college friend - deeply warmed my heart.
On a crazy lark, I participated in a scavenger hunt around town with the prize being a pair of tickets to the Blazer play-off game #6. I ran across the steel bridge, back over the bridge, down to the train station, rode the MAX across the river again. While I didn't win the tickets, I did win a drawing for a certified authentic signed Rudy Fernandez jersey. I would have preferred Andre Miller, but I was thrilled with #5 too!
I took a picture of me wearing the jersey and sent it to my brother. His response was hilarious. Incredulous that I would actually think of putting it on, even for the brief moment the photo took.
That alone would have made for a great week. But it kept getting better to my complete astonishment.
The next day we had our larger Test Services team meeting. Or, rather we attempted to have it - technology thwarted the effort. But our VP did give out special recognition awards for those who had worked on Theta. I wasn't sure if I would be included or not, but when Donna called out my name second to last the response was whooping and hollering from my dear fellow Content team members. The recognition for the extra work I have put into the project was very appreciated, and receiving a bonus award check sure sweetened the thanks.
Thursday evening was the bi-monthly HOTEL dinner, one of my favorite days. I had an opportunity to talk with some of my favorites, meet new residents, and was thoroughly amused when crazy Chris asked me out: "It would delight me terribly to enjoy some activity with you." Thursday also marked the last Perspectives class for this year, and I am thankful that the classes have come to a close. There was also a tragic event Thursday - the Blazers lost the game and were ousted from the play-offs. But that was the only downer of the week and it was quickly swept away in the pomp and circumstance of the Royal Wedding which I watched eagerly (the next morning).
But the best news of all came Friday evening when I opened the mail. My doctor had sent me a copy of my recent blood work. Seven weeks into major dietary changes to control my rheumatoid arthritis, my C reactive protein - an inflammatory marker - was down to 0.4. That's normal. I haven't been normal in 10 years since I was first diagnosed and started tracking that number. I found the copy of the blood work done just before I made all the changes and it was at 4.1 - low for me, but well above normal and into the high risk range. To have such a significant change in 2 months was surprising, amazing, and absolutely fantastic! It has spurred me on to continue on this path for health.
I have no idea what this week will hold. I doubt it will be as thrilling, but I know that if I keep an attitude of gratitude and keep my eyes open, God is blessing my life today and every day.There is so much to be grateful for in life.

Wearing my Rudy jersey!!

Random Thanks

Some days life gets pretty routine. You get in a groove, and just do laps around the track - day in, day out. Those days typically go by the name of Monday. Yet, even in the midst of the ordinary ho-humness of daily life, there are a multitude of things to be thankful for - both large and small. 

51. Thankful for sleeping pills to counteract the caffeine I unintentionally had this evening.
52. Thankful that I was able to knock my inbox at work down by 400. Only 500 more to go!
53. Thankful for results despite struggles in my new path of good health.
54. Thankful for a Sunday afternoon rest - I'm getting closer to having a real Sabbath.
55. Thankful there is a community of people in Portland that support the Micah Project, even when they don't know it.
56. Thankful for a funny email exchange with the bro.
57. Thankful for nose-bleed seats at the Rose Garden tomorrow night for the last Trailblazer home game of the regular season. Hoping for scoring some play-off tickets too!
58. Thankful for sun breaks, rainbows, and especially for longer daylight! Summer is coming!!
59. Thankful I can go to the gym and move my body after sitting in a chair staring at a computer all day.
60. I am so, soooo thankful that I can move. I just past my 10 year anniversary of the start of the rheumatoid arthritis.  And it has been one and a half years since my back surgery. I'm still kicking! And plan to for some time to come.

Gratitude in the Midst of Crazyville

This seems to be a reoccurring  statement for me but life has been crazy for the last two weeks. It started with a stomach bug, a weird one. I felt okay, just blah, until I ate and then I wanted to curl up into a ball and die. It would wear off as the food digested, just enough to fool me into thinking I could eat again and the whole process started again. Just as I was starting to feel better Sunday last I woke up to my roommate screaming. I laid in bed wondering whether or not to be concerned; she is an expressive person, a variety things could be causing her reaction. But when I heard the garage door go up I knew there was a problem that I most certainly should be concerned about. I jumped out of bed and looked out my window to see a rush stream of water going down my driveway. Oh, not good. I hurried down to the garage to see water shooting with force from the main water line soaking everything. Sarah was just standing there, I'm not sure what she was doing. I tried to turn the one valve and realized it was on the other side of the break, it was pointless. I reached over and turned the main valve and the water stopped spewing. Thus started my adventures in plumbing for the next week and a half which finally came to an end today. I now have a new main line coming down from the street to my house and into my house. Not how I wanted to spend the renovation fund that I've slowly been saving, but necessary.
Life is like that a lot of the time. We have to do things that are necessary, but not what we wanted. My life has been like that lately. Even so, I have much to be grateful for in the midst of all the craziness that makes up my life.

46. Thankful that my dad was willing to come to my rescue early Sunday morning and has been here everyday with the plumbers.
47. Thankful my plumbing situation wasn't as dire as first thought - still not good, but not as bad as it could have been.
48. Thankful that my job allows the flexibility to work from home so I could be here when needed; even though work is it's own crazyville lately.
49. Thankful that this plumbing fiasco has provided an opportunity to know a neighbor better.
50. Thankful that I have good clean water that I can drink straight from the tap.

It is really amazing how much we take for granted: the ability to flush a toilet, take a shower, move a handle and have clean water at our disposal.  One in eight people on this plant do not have access to clean healthy water. 1.8 million children die every year from illness they contract from unclean water.
I am richly blessed.

So in addition to being thankful, I want to point you to a couple good resources:
Living Water International
Blood: Water Mission

Pushing the Limits

Last week was a hard, hard week both physically and emotionally and I never got around to being thankful, which if I had, maybe last week wouldn't have been quite so hard. This week is just about gone and I've yet to post my Monday thankful post, so before another week passes by here it is.

I am thankful for...
36) friends who are willing to shepherd and encourage me in making new habits. Taking time out of their week to do so.

37) professors who still take an interest in my life even though I haven't been in their classroom for nearly 10 years. And for a professor who is willing to still advise and help me with a quandary.

38) last week, when I was having such a rough time, I had not one but TWO hour long massages. I didn't intentionally plan it that way, and if I had realized both were scheduled in the same week I would have rescheduled one. But the unexpected luxury of 2 - count them one - two massages was fabulous!

39) hearing one of my favorite students from last years Perspective class teach lesson 10 in this years class. Pastor Matt is such a gem!

40) a mother-daughter outing to the Blazer game! We may have missed the entire 3rd quarter trying to steal good seats, but we got to see the more important 4th quarter win (from better seats)!

41) finding the perfect fabric, exactly what I had in mind, to recover my favorite hand-me-down-inherited chair. So often I envision what I want but am unable to find it. The washed out turquoise velvet is going to be stunning!

42) work that allows me to be flexible with my schedule and work from home on occasion so that even though I don't feel great, I don't have to use my precious vacation days that are allotted to Micah.

43) when my heart is aching with longing to be with my Micah boys, a couple of them initiate IMing just to say "Hi!"

44) Miguelito & Axelito who celebrated one year with the Micah Project this week. They have grown so much! Axelito has gained a foot in height! Miguelito has come through deep valleys this year, but he is growing through them.

45) my new shoes! I am a girl who loves her shoes... because it is really hard to find shoes that fit! Last summer I had my eyes on a pair of sandals from Title 9 but they weren't worth the cost, so I waited for them to go on sale. Once on sale, I still couldn't justify the price, so I watched and waited for the price to drop. Once they finally reached a price point I thought was fair my size was sold out. Today I went to a Title 9 "Blow-out" sale held in a concrete room with merchandise piled on folding tables and shoes wildly strewn against two walls. Walking to the end of the shoes to where a sign said "11" I took a cursory glance at the mayhem of shoes tossed about. The offerings weren't much, and they were mostly of two varieties, neither of which interested me. But then I saw them, one lone pair - my sandals!!  And they fit perfectly! And I paid $11 less than my price point. And I can hardly wait for warm weather so I can wear them. I think it was the serendipitous nature of God.