another thing

I have a new blog that I’m going to try and update more faithfully (as I’ll be using it to communicate from overseas). here’s the link:

http://saraebibb.wordpress.com

thanks all!

 

This Summer

This summer is looking like a whirlwind.

Not even two weeks ago, I got in touch with a high school friend of my brother’s. He does work with a group called The Boaz Project. They serve orphanages in Russia and India. Today I had a conference call with David (my brother’s friend) and the two founders of the organization: Jim and April Jurgensen. It was a fantastic conversation in which I managed not to ramble to much. At the end I was invited to go on a trip with them to Russia at the end of August.

This opportunity is huge. I have been dreaming of serving in Russia for years. It’s amazing how God has literally dropped this in my lap when I wasn’t looking. The timing of it all, the way that this fits me in so many areas, the fact that they have a trip available for me to join, so many things have fallen into place. David said in an email today that it is crazy, but it can only be the Lord at work. I am so overwhelmed by everything that is going on that I hardly know what to feel. There’s nervous anxiety–what if things don’t work out? There’s some dread–what if I discover my dreams really aren’t what God had planned or what I had hoped for? But over all this, there is excitement and trust.

Would you pray with me about this?

I need a visa–and I have a short time frame for that.

I need strength and energy as I am preparing not only for Russia but also 5 weeks in France prior to that.

I need God’s love and patience for those around me who may not understand why I am doing this. I want to treat them with honour and respect, but it can be difficult when it seems that people are putting their grimy toes on your dreams.

More than anything, please pray that I would be sensitive and obedient to God’s will in this.

more info? http://boazproject.org or email me.

 

Camping and Welcoming the Kodiak!

[prepare for ridiculous length]

Memorial Day Weekend was wonderful. I don’t know what happened in the previous post (about such a crummy week). Maybe it was the weather, or caffiene withdrawals, or something. I don’t want to disregard it, as though it wasn’t real and valid. But it’s hard not to do that when the weekend and week after a bad one is so beyond good.

The weekend was really busy. On Friday night, we had to pull together a few final plans for backpacking with MuKappa. On Saturday morning, Caitlin and I were in a bit of a hurry. We hadn’t packed the night before, we realized we needed to go to the grocery store, and were just running late in general. I hate to admit, it was one of those moments I realized I’m a girl. But it turned out okay! We made it to the rest of the MuKappa group and we headed out to the Olympic Peninsula to backpack and camp on Duckabush trail. These are a few pictures from our trip. It was gorgeous. We camped on a beach right next to the river; I fell asleep to the sound of Caitlin squirming in her sleeping bag and the water crashing past the stones that sheltered our camp.

I love being in nature. It’s strange to say, because I realized recently I don’t like the activity of backpacking. But I love the result. There’s something about being next to a river and watching your friends climb over fallen trees that have been dead longer than you’ve been alive. There’s something about the river–bluer than the Fox, smaller than the Colorado, more shallow than the Pacific, and [clearly] more powerful than the Skookumchuk. It just reminds me of God. Beautiful, alluring and dangers. It makes me want to run until I can’t breathe, sit until I’m a part of the ground, sing until I’m hoarse and listen until I can hear the whisper in the wind. (1 Kings 19.12) It reminds me of home. And the home for which I’m still waiting.

The next morning at 5.15 AM (for which Daniel will never forgive me), three of us hiked out ahead of the rest of the group. It was beautiful. The mountains were hazy from the lookouts, you could see clouds and fog in the valleys. The sun made the trees glow, but wasn’t hot enough to be a bother. We jogged the switchbacks (going down) and made it out in just under 2 hours. I felt so proud to keep up with two very patient young men. It was a miracle, and that’s not an exaggeration. After a 3 hour drive down to Vancouver/Portland, we ate lunch, showered off the stench of sweat and campfire and then went off to our next set of events: welcoming MAF’s new Kodiak plane.

New Heights Church helped to raise a lot of the funds that were used to purchase this new plane that will replace the 206. So MAF had a dedication at Pearson Air Field with a few thousand attendees from the church. I don’t know if I’ve ever been with so many MAF people in my life. It was glorious. Sunday night we spent at Uncle Perry and Aunt Linnea’s; there must have been 40 people going in and out–all of whom had lived in Indonesia. We stayed up late, reminisced, hugged and laughed, played volleyball, all while sipping Aunt Linnea’s famous iced tea.

I love the Indo people, I know I’ve said this before. I love them because… they show me what the family of God should be. Sure, we annoy each other sometimes, we have disagreements, and on the indoor soccer court things can be heated. But when I tease Kevin about his “perfect break up song” for his last girl friend, he knows I’m joking. Jared can sing to his goofy dog, because he also sings to me after a futbol game; not to mention the incredible hospitality shown by  he and his wife. Anthony comes alive when we are with these people. We tell storeis about eating bat, night diving and losing flashlights. While we also talk about theology, relationships, shame, callings and dreams. This group takes care of each other. They call me family. Me.

This is what the mission community should look like. And more than that, this is what the body should look like.

So Sunday night was like a taste of heaven. Volleyball, reminiscing, teasing, laughing and I could have cried when we said goodbye. It was heaven. I think that Jesus gives us moments like this, to glimpse the kingdom that is here and is coming. It was there, in that crowded room, and the presence of God was heavy.

Monday a lot happened, but the most exciting was watching Uncle Paul take off in that Kodiak. We had finally said our goodbyes, the crew had checked everything, we’d taken our pictures, and everyone had climbed inside. I stood with Twaan and we watched it taxi  down and wait for an eternity. And then suddenly, it was going. Moving forward an inch at a time and then gaining speed. I wanted to run alongside on our adjacent runway. I could have run behind that gorgeous red and blue plane for miles. I wanted to wave my arms and whoop like the Dani. Because this plane is going to do so much good in Papua. It can bring the news to people, it will bring food, medicine, relief, aid. It will bring people and Jesus (reintroducing him to lost kinfolk). I wanted to jump and shout God’s glory because it is so exciting what he is going to do with this plane, what he already has done and continues to do. It reminds me of the cause for hope, the reason for living, the point to love.

and then, that night, we drove back home. but I think a part of me has been reliving that weekend and the glory of God with each smell of dew soaked ground and each cheer that reminds me of the Dani whoop.

 

Conundrums.

I am sitting in the library. I’m three (ish) weeks from my college graduation. There’s a woman speaking Russian behind me. I had a delicious dinner. Caitlin bought us study treats. I have plans for Friday night, or at least, tenative plans. I have an internship if I want it, and million opportunities that God simply has yet to reveal.

But I’m sitting here, and I could burst into tears. I read an old friend’s blog and I miss him. I miss him so much. But it’s not just him. Robb, yes, is very important to me, no matter how much we laugh about him since he’s been gone. But I miss more than just him. I miss the times when I was just a college student with endless dreams of changing the world. I want to return to the first days of dating Twaan when it was fresh and exciting. Or even the days spent at his house last year, crying on the floor from stress and fear but knowing comfort. I miss running every day, I miss being wanted by others. It has been a long time since I have felt known or understood.

The lights in the library are glaring overhead. I should be doing homework. I ought to savor my education the way that I hypocritically claim others do not. Instead, I am just sitting here, staring at a computer screen full of webpages, documents, and nearly endless possibilities.

I feel like the existentialist was right. I’m floundering in the tension of finitude and the infinite. I’ve gone too far in one direction and now I’m drowning in despair that comes from failing to maintain the balance. The trouble is, I don’t know which end of the spectrum I ran towards, and I don’t know when or how. I only know that I did it at break-neck speed, becuase I don’t remember the journey, I just know that I am here.

Maybe the weekend will cheer me up. We’re going backpacking. Maybe the time spent away will introduce me to God, remind me of who I am and where my identity comes from. I’m left alone so much, even in a crowd, and I can never seem to find God when I’m looking. But maybe with the rushing river, the green haze between the trees and ferns, maybe the crystal of the water and the ethereal feeling one experiences when standing in a cloud and watching it pass over mountains, maybe that will show me God again.

In the meantime. I’m trying to remember the good time of this past year and realize that I have come to a new place, and I am doing much better. And I am working to remember those times without this “if only” perspective that does nothing but damage me and my relationships. Perhaps, as Peter Bohler suggested to John Wesley, I should preach faith until I have it… I should act and live as though things were as I wished, and I felt the way that I long for.

 

Woohoo!

I got offered an internship today! It’s so exciting, it’s with a missions group that I think I would really love to work with. The position is really open as they’ve never had an intern before. It would be very fluid, and I could try a lot of things, but eventually hone in on anywhere they need help that really interests me.

I think this could be a great opportunity for me. The woman I’d be working with, Kathie, seems incredibly flexible which is so helpful for my dysfunctional summer schedule. The biggest struggle right now is whether or not I want to leave Colorado. So much of me has been planning to go back, have a break and rest from my time at school. I’ve been looking forward to that time with my parents, our community and a certain family that has become very dear to my heart in the past months. I would love this position, and I think I would love the people I would get to work with. But at the same time, I would love to go home, I would love to be mentored by Ghena, and I would love the comfort of some familiarity.

But whateer is in God’s will for me, that’s what I want to do. If you’ll keep me in your prayers as I try to make this decision, I would so so appreciate it. It’s difficult to have to choose between two great opportunities. But I’m so thankful and excited to have been offered this internship!

 

I know, I broke a promise…

…I didn’t write a long list about what I learned last quarter. Instead, my spring break was spent eating delicious food, hanging with friends, sitting for about 6 hours in a window seat staring at the sun, baking (in a kitchen with no one hovering), and sorting through old baby clothes. It was reflective, relaxing and beautiful.

One thing I did explore over Spring Break was my heart towards some difficult people that God has placed in my life. I’m ashamed to admit that I am not hte most forgiving person. I think if I had space and distance, that would make it easier to let go and move on. Unfortunately, at college, there’s no such things as space. Everyone seems to be walking in and out of my life each day with no reprieve. I’m learning what it means to love generously even when it takes up my precious time and how to let go of things that have hurt me (and love that person tangibly in the middle of that process). It isn’t easy.

I joined a “community group” at our church recently. On Monday night I talked to the leader for a long time and he said some things that I needed to hear. I almost started crying, and I’ve known the man barely over a week! It was amazing the amount that God said to me through him, and he didn’t even realize it.

This quarter, I’m also applying for jobs. I have to figure out my life now, which is both exciting and daunting. Right now I’m hoping to return to Colorado. I realized over Spring Break how much I miss it. I never have thought of anywhere as “home” until two weeks ago when I stepped off the plane and marched cheerfully to the train. I giggled at the sunshine pouring in the huge windows of DIA, and I think I clapped my hands in the car for joy over the wide open spaces. But at the same time, I am being open to where else God might take me. I’m looking forward to eagerly finding out whatever plan he has–Idaho, Colorado, Oregon–wherever and whatever! Maybe it’s the sunshine and the flowers in bloom and the trees blossoming: I have rarely felt more optimistic in my life.

 

Soto Ayam and Bapak Wally

Last night I went down to Kent with Twaan. It was good, despite the mishap of getting lost and me being really angry with Twaan’s mad back seat driving skills. He was just trying to be helpful, becuase sometimes I get stressed in traffic (in an unfamiliar, borrowed car). But it had the opposite effect. Not to mention I have just been grumpy for the last 5 days, at least.

But Kent, Kent itself was wonderful. We went to see Indo people. I met Uncle Wally for the first time. We were headed for the back door, and Uncle Wally threw open the front door, calling “Tony!” We made a hard left turn, marched up the steps and straight into the arms of the most famous missionary I know. He gave me a hug, even though we hadn’t met yet. He said he feels like he already knows me, he’s heard so much from Barb (anthony’s mom). And then we went inside to join at least thirty other people eating Soto Ayam, drinking some koolaid-punch-beverage, and sitting or standing all over the house.

This is what I love about the Indo people. We were half an hour late, and Wally ignored my apology as though it had never occurred to him. People smiled and shook my hand, people hugged me and knew who I was, and some of them were excited to meet me. There was so much food, and it was still coming off the stove. There were greetings in other languages, and kisses and lots of laughter. It was like one big happy family reunion.

Except, it wasn’t just like a reunion. It was a family coming back together, even though we didn’t know half of them and some hadn’t been seen for years. This is why I miss missionaries. Because I miss having family and feeling at home in a place I’ve never been.

 

I am sitting in the library (again)

I should be working on a paper. I have about 1 page of 4. It’s on the gift of Tongues. I’m writing about Acts vs 1 Corinthians. It’s been an interesting week of intense research, I have never read so many commentaries on Acts or 1 Corinthians 14. Calvin, Barnes, ICC, New Bible Commentary, and then there’s all the ish by Pentecostals and Cessasionists. I have six books in front of me, and notes from three more on my lap top that I am using. I have two footnotes and a title page.

I also need to go, now. But I dont want to. There is so, so much to do right now. So much has to get done before next week. You could pray about htat for me. I would appreciate it. There simply isn’t enough time in the world, and I feel so incredibly unmotivated. I just want to sip lattes, make chai, be friends with people, and ignore time.

Spring break is so soon, though. So soon. I am quite literally living on the strength of Jesus. Someday I will make a list of all the things I’ve learned this quarter. It’ll be a doo-zy.

oh shoot. crap. my paper is supposed to be double spaced. which means, I have 2 of 4 pages done. I haven’t even started 1 Corinthians. this is bad. there is not going to be enough space for everything.

 

solar powered

I haven’t updated in a while. It’s been a crazy crazy quarter. I am taking less credits, with more work than ever before. It’s been good though, I have learned so much. I am growing a good deal, though it doesn’t always feel like it. There are little things that God is changing in my life, and I think that I will be able to see them more fully over time time during break or even beyond.

The sun is out today in Seattle, it’s one of the few times I don’t regret coming to school here. The sunshine reminds me of freshman year, Ed/Min with Dr. Smyth and laying on the green Demarray lawn while pretending to do homework. It reminds me of the times at Gasworks, and dancing in the Loop, the clouds at Marshall, Wednesday night Rendevouz and so much more.

I’m listening to David Crowder, and I should be working on a paper. But I can’t focus right now. I can’t seem to stay on topic, I can’t think of what to say about Brad’s music and John Wesley. There’s so much to say, and yet, it’s all been said in the simple lyrics. I am wishing and wishing that I could do justice to his words, but instead I am distracted by the guy in the green shirt in Martin Square. He keeps checking his cell phone, and he has a funny black and red bag on the ground below the bench that is bathed in sunlight. Earlier it seemed the whole of campus had descended on Martin Square below me. There was Molly and the boy talking to her was the same one that flirted outrageously with Leah last year. Emily was there, wearing the unecessary red jacket, and the red hat that didn’t quite match crowned her black hair. Yikwa was sitting there with his laptop, his timbuktu bag still slung over his shoulder, covering his waist. He is probably working on the same paper as me.

But now I’m watching Lindsey walk away with Molly. I don’t know when Lindsey in her bright yellow sweater arrived on the warm bricks set in such a confusing pattern. And now Yikwa has picked up his cellphone, checked the time, closes his laptop, stands, adjusts his timbuktu, and grabs the laptop in one hand, then waddles away. And the boy with the bright green shirt, short sleeved despite the faint chill; the one wearing the funny brown hat that makes him look Russian or Mongol; he has slung his odd red and black backpack over his shoulder, checked his cell phone one last time, and he has moved from my line of vision.

ah the windows in the third floor of the library.

so entirely distracting.

but Wesley is calling…

 

Crazy Quarter

I just got back from Vancouver on Monday night. It feels like yesterday, and at the same time like years ago. Today is Thursday. I just finished a paper. I’m scrambling to find journal articles for another (the library seems to be severely lacking in anything relating to my topic). I have a million pages to read for Monday. I have study sessions to host, papers to review, people to meet with, and my likely hours of sleep seem to dwindle constantly. How is this possible? I just had a long weekend, felt remarkably productive, am one day from the next weekend, and I am consumed with deadlines!

how, how, how does this happen?