On Loving a Refugee Like Me

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.  Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; Though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.  Selah.  There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacles of the most High.  God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved: he uttered his voice, the earth melted.  The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.  Selah.

Psalm 46: 1-7

A refuge is defined as: a condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger or trouble; something providing shelter.

A refugee is defined as: a person who has been forced to leave their country in order to escape war, persecution or natural disaster.

          How many times in my short life have I run to my God seeking safety and a shelter from the storms of this life?  How many times have I been cast down, broken, lost and confused seeking protection from the constant war for my soul?  How many times has He taken me in, knowing that I would ultimately forget, deny or despise the gift of refuge offered to me in His love?  How often when refreshed have I ignored His care and turned to once again head back into the fray without his protection?  How many times have I wounded Him when He has offered me healing?  And yet every time I run to my God having recognized the danger I am in and seeking once more to be given refuge, His arms are open to receive me.  Because His love is not offered even though we might hurt or fail Him...it is a love that is offered when He knows it is in our nature to do so.  It is a love that is perfect and not extended on the condition of my perfection.  It is a love that we can never be worthy of and a love that we can always be sure of.  I am a refugee seeking the protection and care of my God, and He is perfect love always offering an anchor and refuge for my soul.

The Lee Family

          I was between 1-6months old ( I have no solid memories to tell me my exact age) when I met the first refugees who played a part in shaping my history.  It was 1981 and a call went out to families in the Twin Cities area to sponsor refugee families from Southeast Asia.  The Viet Cong had been engaged in an active genocide against the indigenous Hmong tribes in Laos for over a decade and many had fled to Thailand and Cambodia throughout the previous decade.  The US had finally allowed for a large influx of these refugee Hmong families to enter into the States, but they needed families willing to house and feed them and help them become established.  With much consideration and prayer and in the face of many valid concerns for safety, my parents answered the call and became a host family.  The Lee's came to live with us while I was still an infant.

          I cannot imagine the fears and concerns that must have been present when our two families first met.  How my parents must have wondered if these people were good hearted individuals or would try to take advantage of them in some way or pose harm to their children.  How my father must have contemplated the additional financial burden of caring for two families and somehow helping them become self sufficient when they barely even spoke the language.  How difficult it must have been for mom and dad Lee to leave everything they knew and loved to be deposited on the other side of the world unable to make their own way or even speak the language.  Dependent on the kindness and generosity of strangers, their only option to trust that these strangers who they can barely communicate with would not attempt to misuse them or harm their children in any way.

          At the time my family owned a rather large farm.  While the first Hmong immigrants were not yet versed in western civilization nor were they able to speak English with ease, they knew how to grow the most beautiful produce and they were brilliant at managing a farming business.  Within a few years my parents were established in the small Hmong community and offered to the families small plots of land for rent each spring/summer to grow produce that they could then sell at the local farmers markets.  Every 1-3 acres was cultivated by a different family who would come to the farm early in the morning and work until mid afternoon.  Every family would build small shade shacks at the edge of their fields and in the heat of the afternoon they would rest together and eat their lunch.  My brothers and I had an open welcome into any place at any time.  I grew up wandering from field to field, playing with the children my age, learning the traditional Hmong agricultural techniques, falling asleep in the shade with the sound of Hmong music wafting from a battery powered radio and the smell of sticky rice and pork.  

          The Lee family became an important part of our family and the foundation of who I am.  I am who I am because I was blessed by experiencing the world through their history and culture.  My love of sticky rice, spring rolls, peanut sauce and traditional Hmong ballads exists because of the love and trust built between two different cultures.  Because my parents felt the calling to open their home in spite of the potential concerns and the obvious fears.  The Lee family were able to find a home half a world away from home, because love conquered fear.

Honduras

          When I was three years old my parents embarked on what several in my family deemed a foolish and dangerous endeavor.  The country of Nicaragua had been embroiled in a violent civil war and thousands of refugees had poured across the border into neighboring Honduras.  These refugees had been stuck in camps within Honduras for several years at this point, with no right to enter the country they were in and no possible way to return to their own country.  After much prayer my parents decided it was time to go and see what could be done.  They loaded myself and my brothers into our Volkswagen van and we headed from Minnesota to Honduras.

          My father spoke no Spanish and my mother only a very small amount.  They didn't know specifically where they were going in Honduras, nor if they would even have access to the refugee camps or even what help they could possibly be.  Several family members offered to keep us while my parents went by themselves, but my parents decided if this was happening we were going as a family.  They didn't know the roads through Mexico or Guatemala and they had never crossed a border before.  They knew there were guerrilla forces in southern Mexico and Guatemala and they had taken missionary families for ransom before, but they were also convinced this was something they were called to do.  So, they packed everything into the van and off we went.  

          I do not have enough space to detail all of the amazing blessings that came from this single choice.  But I will sum it up this way.  After a decade of traveling to and from my 'patria chica' Honduras to bring relief to refugees and poverty struck Hondurans, I spoke fluent Spanish as did my brothers and all of my family (saving myself) chose to move there permanently.  In my time spent in Latin America I learned that my comfort and desires means little next to the greater purpose of service to others under the guidance of God.  I learned that the greatest gift you can ever receive in life is to serve another person.  I learned to love marimba music, the Spanish language, Mayan culture and history and that love does not live within the borders of family, race or country.

          One experience during these journeys that I would like to share is when the tables were turned and my family became the refugees dependent on the goodness of others in a country where we had no money and barely spoke the language.  We were traveling through Guatemala to Honduras and my parents decided to make a rare excursion off the main course to a nearby tourist town and spend the afternoon just visiting the country as tourists.  We parked the van on a side street and locked up before heading out to walk the nearby square.  When we returned a couple hours later we found that the van had been broken into and my mother's purse had been taken.  My mother's purse contained all of our money, traveler's checks and passports. We were now stuck in a foreign country with no money and no identification to allow us to get home even if we had money.  

          We piled into the van and drove to the nearest city that had a US Embassy, Guatemala City.  Guatemala is the largest populated city in the country and it's not known to be low on crime rates.  My parents were able to get ahold of my grandpa who was able to wire us money, but because the process of getting new passports could take weeks we had to use the money sparingly.  We parked the van across the street from the embassy and down the road from a Chuck-e-Cheese.  Maybe it was because they wanted us to have a distraction or maybe it was the best price for food nearby, but for whatever reason we frequented the Chuck-e-Cheese almost every day for over a week.  Our van was burglarized twice during that time, but we didn't have extra money to use on a hotel so we said our prayers every night for protection and slept right in the van on the side of the road.  I cannot remember if it was into the second or third week we were stuck there ( I was still young and those details escape me) but a young woman who worked at Chuck-e-Cheese struck up a friendship with my parents.  When she found out what had happened and where we were staying she did not hesitate to offer us to stay with her and her young son in their apartment.

          I don't have many memories of their apartment, except that it was far from large.  I remember feeling bad that I knew we had displaced this woman from her own room and bed but being so thankful to be able to sleep in a bed without being woken up by every sound outside of the van wondering if it was a thief trying to get in.  I remember playing with her son (who was a few years younger than me) and wondering if she was afraid to leave him with us since she did not know us or if we would try to hurt him or steal her things.  Looking back I cannot imagine the goodness that moved her to make this offer to what must have appeared to be a homeless and penniless family from a different country.  I cannot imagine being in my parent's position having to rely on the kindness of a stranger because they could not in that moment care for their family without the help.  The grace it must have taken to have made the offer and the humility that was necessary in order to accept the offer that was made.  The leap of faith in God and human kindness that it took to trust that one would not take advantage of the other.  They were only good and kind to us and never once made me feel humiliated or ashamed for the position we were in.  I don't remember the woman's name, I can't remember if my parents were ever able to find her again and pay her back for her generosity, I wonder sometimes who that little boy grew up to be and I pray that somehow God will bless them for their offer of love.  

Joe

          I don't remember how old I was when Joe came to live with us.  I know I was under the age of ten.  It seemed like all at once he was just there, a part of our family.  But my mother remembers an entirely different entry into our household.  When she tells the story she explains that one day my father drove into the farm with a passenger in tow.  The passenger was Joe.  He was over six feet tall and over three hundred pounds wearing dirty clothes with hair and beard down nearly to his waist and no shoes.  He smelled....well, not like a rose.  Dad explained that Joe needed food and a place to stay for awhile.  My mother will tell you she was terrified on their first meeting and wondered if my father had brought home an ax murderer and when he might kill us all in our sleep.  She will tell you it took her several weeks before she felt like he wouldn't randomly flip out and become homicidal on us.  Joe was a vet who was down on his luck and had become homeless.  Looking back I am sure he struggled with some PTSD and probably self medicated to some extent.  

          Joe ended up living with us for years on the farm.  He never told about his time in war or how he ended up where my father found him on the side of the road.  But he told us about his travels around the US.  He also told us about his time as a chef and made the most delicious duck a'lorange.  He was always happy when baking or cooking something and always talked to me about how cooking was an artistic expression that required more than just mixing spices together.  To have a truly good dish you had to put your heart into it and 'feel' the right blend of spices.  Joe was strange and truly odd and I am confident he secretly slipped away to smoke pot out in the woods (although he never once brought anything of the sort around me or even discussed it in my presence.) but he was also someone who was perfectly gentle with me and who I felt 100% safe with at all times.  I remember many times my father telling me that Christ loved the most unloveable of men and if we are to be like Him than we must find what is worthy of love in the most unloveable of mankind.  When he met my parents, Joe perfectly fit the description of unloveable in every way.  To take him into their home was to take on a tremendous risk.  But to deem the risk too great because he was unloveable would have meant missing out on knowing all of the loveable qualities that he possessed.

          These are some of my experiences growing up with and loving the refugees, poor and lost from our country and other countries.  These are some of my experiences being in the position of a refugee myself and knowing what a gift it was to have a willing soul offer us their protection and care.  The extension of safety, protection and humanitarian care must always be prayerfully considered.  But if we allow fear to stop us before we have even considered it...I believe we have missed out on the blessings that can come from a gift of that magnitude.

On the Lies of Walt Disney and Nicholas Sparks

          Here is my one and only caveat on this post: these are my personal opinions formed by my individual observations and reflect only my perception of things.  I will not apologize for my individual observations nor will I dispute your right to have other observations.  I am not postulating that I possess any wisdom on these matters, they are merely my musings and I expect no one to change their lives over my personal thoughts.

          I have considered for much time the possibility of writing a post of this nature.  I have always hesitated because I am not sure how I want to shape it yet and because I (who have only had two dating relationships in my nearly thirty-five years of life) feel like it's too easy for someone to pass over what I am saying as baseless.  I have not 'found' the 'love of my life' so how could I possibly know anything about a relationship like that?  How could I have any relationship wisdom to offer someone?  If you doubt my ability to offer any perspective...feel free to stop reading.

          While talking with a co-worker today we began to discuss relationships and I pointed out a couple things that I have observed and experienced through the years.  I was surprised when she became very quiet and told me that she was so glad we were talking about this because my comments had given her a new perspective and she had to consider what I had said.  I was partially surprised that she was taking my observations with careful introspection, but also that these concepts which seem so obvious to me may not really be obvious at all.

          All of that being said here are a single, thirty-four year old, healed broken heart, dating rarely to never woman's observations on love and relationships.

• If you cling to a preconceived notion of what the perfect relationship is supposed to look like, you will be disappointed in any relationship that you have. 

• We all have preconceived ideas of what 'true love' is supposed to look and feel like.  They are created from watching the relationships around us, reading novels, watching television and movies that depict a great and timeless romance.  It's normal to form an idea of something that you would like to possess and imagining what you think it will be like.  The problem comes in when we cling so strongly to that preconceived notion that we cannot reconcile reality to the dream.  Have you ever heard the term 'in love with being in love'?  These are those people.  They have created an ideal that is so perfect they cannot accept any variation of that idea and therefore any relationship that does not fit perfectly into this picture cannot be 'true love'.  Relationships are only as perfect as the people in them therefore 'true love' is accepting that the person you have chosen may not meet your ideals every day for the rest of your life.  And the real shocker?  You probably won't meet theirs either.

• Whether you realize it or not, you DO have a preconceived notion of what 'true love' looks and feels like.  
• Don't believe me?  Picture the perfect evening with the perfect mate.  What does he/she look like, smell like, what does his/her laughter sound like, is he/she talkative or quiet, what do you like to do together?  If you honestly know the answer any of these questions, you have an ideal.  That's cool.  Just don't let that ideal destroy what may be a real loving relationship.
• If you spend all day/all night messaging or talking to someone and sharing your joys, fears, anger, tears with them...I hate to be the one to break it to you but you are in an intimate relationship with them.
• We have this ignorant concept that if we say we are not in a relationship with someone that means we are not, even if our actions say otherwise.  Consider who you speak to all day and night at any hour and that person always responds immediately without fail.  They never are showering, sleeping, working or out to eat when you are wanting to talk.  My mother carried me in her body for nine months and gave birth to me...she is not even available 100% of the time.  She tries to be, but life sometimes sneaks in and I have to wait for a response or a call back.  I know there are times when we are not ready to admit we have fallen into an intimate interaction with someone, that we feel anxious if they don't immediately respond and mildly elated when they do.  But the fact of the matter is the only time you have an immediate and constant interaction with another human being is when you are in an intimate dating relationship with them.  Especially if you are sharing the private highs and lows of your day with them.

• Walt Disney's 'happily ever after' ending with no imperfections created a lie that has  distorted the reality of being happy in a relationship.
• For as long as we are on this earth we can experience sadness, trials, loss, joy, hope, pain and love (among a host of other emotions).  To expect 'happily ever after' to include no growing pains or irritation or sorrow is to expect real life to be perfect.  It is not.  When we were children and watched Walt Disney cartoons we saw the knight on a shining horse (or worse, the rouge who for love fundamentally changed his entire character) swoop in and save the princess from a fate worse than death.  After which they immediately knew they were meant to be together and they lived 'happily ever after'.  What Walt never bothered to show us is that 'happily ever after' includes screaming children and endless diapers, laundry and dishes, waking up after three hours of sleep to stumble like a zombie to work an overtime shift to make enough extra money to cover a bigger mortgage because you have grown out of your tiny home.  'Happily ever after' doesn't always look happy, sometimes it looks like torture.  What Walt never explained is that it's possible to be happy in pure misery because you choose to love the person who is trudging through that misery with you.

•             Why does any of that matter? Let's consider this for a moment. If I grew up watching my favorite princess cartoons and created this longing for someone to swoop in and 'rescue' me from any real or perceived wrongs in my life, assuming all the while that as soon as this person comes and pulls me out of my current life into 'happily ever after' all of my concerns will disappear and we will ride off into the sunset perfectly happy for rest of our lives...what will I think when real life sets in and 'happily ever after' feels like misery in the moment? Might it be reasonable for me to assume that I was swept up by the wrong knight? If I could just get out of this situation and find the 'right' person... he would certainly save me and we could be 'happy ever after'.

• The only sure thing in a relationship is that you are both fallible human beings and at some point in that relationship you will end up hurting and disappointing each other.
• You cannot expect perfection in another person any more than they can expect it in you.  We all fail and we will all fail each other at some point in time.  And yet, when it comes to our most intimate relationships we somehow think they should never fail us or hurt us.  This is not meant to spread doom and gloom, it is meant to make you more aware of the facts.  It's not about if someone fails you, its about when they fail you will you have enough love and grace to forgive them?  Better yet, when you fail them...will they have enough love and grace to cover your failures?  Can the two of you together build a love that is strong enough to recover from even the deepest wounds you could imagine?  If you step into that relationship expecting the other person to never fail you...you have given them an impossible task and you have already failed them.  This is not to say you should just ignore or accept another persons flaws, it's to say you should be prepared for the possibility of failures and to work through them together whenever possible.

• Nicholas Sparks does not write about monumental love stories that changed time and space, if you knew those people (and you probably know some version of them) you would be exhausted by their drama.
• Look at the real love stories that stand the test of time and trials.  Are they built on the constant cycle of  I love you , I hate you, you hurt me, I cant live without you, get away from me etc.?  Or are they instead built on a steady foundation of knowledge, acceptance and grace?  I am not saying those true love stories don't have moments of drama or flashes of desire, but they probably weren't in a constant cycle of drama and desire.  It's not a sustainable cycle.  Humans become emotionally drained and need time to rest.  A Nicholas Sparks romance never gives time for an individual to rest in the love of another person, because they are too busy constantly cycling through emotions.  True love should not exhaust you to the point of wanting to hide in a dark closet just to be alone and think.

• If this person does not make you better by knowing them, if you do not make them a better person...what is the ultimate goal of your being together?
• I am someone who believes that we all have a purpose in this life.  I know my individual purpose is to serve my God.  Why would I commit to sharing my life with someone if they do not help and encourage me in that goal?  Why would I allow them to be tied to me if I know they are not fulfilling their purpose in life more fully for being with me?  In the past I have devoted my heart to someone who did not encourage me to be the best person I could be.  I lost myself in my drive to hold onto him.  And to be fully honest, I didn't help him be a better man either.  We were not better individuals for being together.  I held on frantically for awhile, because 'I loved him'.  What I painfully learned is, I can love someone with all of my heart and not be the best match for them.  So, if I truly love him and know I do not help make him the best man he can be...would I not love him best by letting him go?  I loved him then and I love him still, and we are not together because I finally loved him enough to walk away.

• If you are interested in someone you must immediately make a list of any flaws you can think of in them.  This will act as your tether to reality when the rose colored glasses go on and you no longer see flaws.  Ask yourself if you can live the rest of your life with the items on the list.  If you can...pursue it. If not...walk away before you become invested. (advise from my father)

• If you are interested in a man watch how he treats the following people: his mother-because at some point in your relationship he will feel like you are mothering him, his enemies- because at some point in your relationship he will see you as an enemy, the 'unwanted'-because at some point in your relationship he will be tired and see your presence as a nuisance,  his friends-because more than anything he should always be your best friend. (advise from my mother)

          I could go on ( I have too many opinions) but I will spare you the rest.  If you have read this far you are probably either enraged or tired of my opinions by now.  I am sure I am not 100% correct, but I am also sure I am not 100% incorrect.  Take what you will from it and leave the rest.  They are, after all, only random thoughts.
   
    

         

I Can Do All Things

I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.

Philippians 4:13

          Whenever a child tells me 'I can't do it' my immediate response is, 'We never say 'I can't' because that is not true.  Sometimes things are very hard or you don't know how to do them and it's okay to acknowledge that and say 'it's very hard or I don't know how' but nothing is impossible if we try our hardest and pray for God to help us.  You CAN do it.'

          I realize they are probably only half listening and wondering when I am going to stop talking and let them play already, but I feel very strongly that it is an important distinction to make for myself and for a growing child.  I want them to grow up knowing that if they give 100% and seek the blessings of God, they can accomplish things that seem impossible.  I also want and need the reminder for myself on a regular basis.  I find that most times when we look at something and say 'I can't' what we truly mean is 'I don't know how', ' I am scared I will fail', ' I know it will be very hard and I don't want to try'.  Can't becomes what we say when the truth is we won't.   

          Sometime last year I set a goal for myself.  I decided I would run a marathon before I turn thirty-five.  I began training and preparing for races.  I then selected the marathon I wanted to run and began working toward it.  In January I ran a 15K with a good friend of mine.  It was a beautiful day and I felt fully confident and on the path to achieving my goal.  I noticed some pain in my Achilles but chalked it up to the stress of the run I had just completed.  Within two months I could barely walk around the block without severe pain and I began to have shooting pain up the back of my legs.  I ended up in physical therapy with tendinitis in both Achilles, Posterior Tibial Ligaments and Plantar Fasciitis.  It took three months of physical therapy before I could even begin light hiking and a couple months more before running any distance without risking permanent damage was an option.  My goal seemed foolish, it couldn't be done.  I struggled against gaining weight and a deep sadness that I cannot even explain.  Silly to be that down over something so simple as restricted movement.  I still was abundantly blessed and was slowly recovering, but the sadness was very palpable.

          As soon as I was cleared to begin running again I was hit with the realization that in a matter of months I had gone from completing a 15K to barely finishing a mile and having to baby my still recovering feet.  I struggled with the desire to just give up and only focus on exercises that didn't require stress on my feet.  If I couldn't make my goal what was the point anyway?  During this period of recovery I became very dependent on the above verse from Philippians.  If I believe this is a promise from the creator of the universe and if I believe that He is faithful in all of His promises, then I must conclude that hope is not lost and therefore I should not give up.  The progress felt tremendously slow, but I did not give up.

          About a month ago I mentioned to my cousin and one of my best friends that I had made this goal of running a marathon and I thought I had found one that I could train for and complete just two weeks shy of my thirty-fifth birthday.  To my surprise...she told me she would train and plan to run it with me. I was over the moon thrilled when two more dear friends spoke up saying they would like to tackle the course as well. I set up a coaching program and I began doing light training to prepare myself.  I was full of thrilled excitement at the prospect of actually making this goal become a reality when I made the fatal error of looking ahead at my training schedule.  I believe there is a good reason we are not given a play by play of our futures.  Can you imagine how terrified we would be to see the obstacles coming our way and not have the gift of blindly working through the small steps that take us through them?  I stared at the numbers on that schedule and thought, "I have been running 10-12 miles each week and I'm supposed to do that much in a single run in how many weeks?  I can't do that!"  I was scared, worried, unsure of how it would be accomplished and concerned my body wouldn't hold up through it all.  

          The next morning I was scheduled to complete a 4 mile run.  It took me two hours and lots of prayer before I was able to work up the desire in myself to go out at all.  As I ran I thought, "If I have lost my drive to run at this point, how in the world will I encourage myself to go out and run when I'm supposed to go for 10,12,16 or 20 miles at once?  I don't know if this is possible.".  When I got back to my house I started reading through scriptures and stopped at the verse in Philippians.  As I read and re-read the scripture, the realization dawned on me that I can't do it...by myself.  I don't have the strength, desire or athletic ability to accomplish such a large goal on my own.  But I was not doing it on my own.  I had several friends working toward this goal with me and even better than that, I have the power of the creator of heaven and earth on my side...if I will dedicate the time and efforts to Him and ask Him to help me.

          So, here I am proclaiming to the world.  This coming Monday I officially begin my training schedule.  It is my intention to run the Phoenix Marathon this coming February and I will dedicate all the time in training that I can to reach that goal.  I know however, that I will not reach that goal with my own personal strength and efforts alone.  I also know that:

• I am scared I will try and fail
• I am scared I will not be able to run fast enough to make the cut off time
• I am worried I will sustain another injury and have to stop in the middle of my training
• I am terrified at the thought of running over 10 miles at a time much less 26.2
• I am concerned that on the day of the race I will become injured or sick and not finish
• I have no idea how I will be able to successfully accomplish this
• I am scared that I will have to admit to everyone that I did not make it 

That all being said; I am also confident that God's promises are true and if I focus on one day at a time and ask Him for strength when I feel mine is gone, He will be faithful to carry me through to the finish line.  

May you find that God is your strength through every trial in your life and may you find that in relying on His strength all of your doubts and fears are replaced with the knowledge that in Him the only thing you can't do is fail.