Dancing horses

I drove by a restaurant in a strip mall today. Its name was "Chinese and Pizza". This cannot be good. I might have a slight smile if it said "Chinese and Hamburgers" after my recent foray into Hong Kong and the unbelievable numbers of hamburger joints lining the roads devoid of rickshaws. But last I checked, Chinese food rarely explored the wonderful world of cheese. Perhaps that's because of the widespread dairy intolerance. That's not to say that I haven't eaten pizza in lands filled with Chinese...I most definitely have...but in Pizza Hut. And that's not to say that I don't enjoy fusion restaurants, either. I'm just having a hard time embracing the Chinese and pizza fusion. 

But perhaps this restaurant is on to something. Yesterday I went to the local 4th of July parade and was rather surprised by the number of John Deere tractors, Republican party advertisements, Free Mason floats, cowboy hats, and (my absolute favorite) dancing horses. I always think a fantastic way to get to know a community is to visit their museum(s) - not so much for the objects themselves, but for how those chosen objects represent the values of the choosers. Another great way to do this is to enter a thrift store - the quality, quantity, and prices of the available merchandise in each neighborhood is telling of the surrounding economic bracket and dress code. Yesterday, I added to that list when I realized that a community parade is yet another fantastic way to get a feel for a local community's political and approved community affiliations.

Viva dancing horses - cha cha cha!

If I have learned anything about my new locale after three days (into the unknown next few weeks where this is 'home'), it's that just an hour outside of a very progressive city, lies a very conservative farming community full of family-oriented, duck-raffling fun. Perhaps "Chinese and Pizza" isn't such a bad idea, given the context. In fact, way to be culturally adaptable Mr. Chinese and Pizza owner!

Still...forgive me my lack of enthusiasm for this creative mix, but I will be going back to the local Thai place where he actually gave me green curry at "100 star" spiciness and I felt like I had been transported back to Koh Chang, Thailand. I'm trying to adapt, I really am. But put me into a good Thai restaurant and any desire for a different type of food just dances away. Cha cha cha!

Hosting a Stranger

There are all sorts of people in the world, and most of us have either hosted others or been hosted ourselves at various stages of our lives.

I am incredibly thankful that my parents were the kind of people whose doors were always open. I can look back on most holidays and picture random people who have joined us at the table. Rooms in our house were often full - students who needed housing for a bit, abused women who need a safe place 'til they figured out what to do, friends who were stopping through, family immigrating from Asia trying to get established, kids sleeping under the piano because the couches and beds were all taken. I've always wanted my own home to be a place where anyone can show up on the doorstep at any time, day or night, and they would be greeted by a quick hug into a safe space. A simple place, most guaranteed, but a place nonetheless.

Over the past few years I've also found myself hosted by various people, many times strangers who opened their doors to us simply because we worked with an organization whose mission they wanted to support. This past weekend, we stayed for two nights in just such a home and I got to thinking about the lessons that I've learned from being hosted and how I can both learn from and emulate these environments.

So here are a few comments about the first moments of hospitality - from the request to threshold crossing - for the hosters among us:

1. Asking a person to host you is often a daunting task. There are of course those who take advantage of others hospitality, but for many "cold-calling" and asking for a place to stay is tantamount to begging for help. It is humbling, for sure, but can also be humiliating depending on who is hosting. Please don't make a person "prove" that they deserve a place in your house. If you don't feel comfortable, just say no. Undergoing a 10 minute interview only to hear "we'll see how it goes" is just not encouraging. By all means, get to know them, but if your questions sound like something you got from a job interview, maybe think of some new questions.

2. Do treat a request for a place as just a request and something you can say no to. It's not a demand so you don't need to come up with lame excuses for why you can't host. Simply say it won't work for you at this time. People looking for a place totally understand and don't want to make you feel guilty for not being able to host. If you communicate guilt, the person asking will feel like they need to assuage that guilt which is quite exhausting if repeated with dozens of people who do the same thing.

3. If you can't host but want to help, don't give a list of names and numbers of people you know to the person asking for a place to stay. Instead, why don't you call these people that you know yourself and see if it can work out? This allows those people to say no to a person they trust and cuts down significantly on the explanation of the person asking for help. And, most especially, do not give your pastor's name and number to call...do you know how many calls these people get a week from people they don't know?! If you think they can help, be the ambassador and call them yourself.

4. Most people have expectations of guests who enter their home. This is perfectly normal and to be expected. The important thing is to communicate that clearly before they arrive. Do you want to eat together or separately? Do you have lots of events planned where they'll be home alone? If you are having guests over, where to you want the hosted person to be - In their room? Involved in the conversation? Are there food allergies in the house where peanut butter shouldn't be whipped out of a bag? Where do you want them to park when they arrive? Is there a limit to how many days they can stay before trying your patience? Communicate, communicate, communicate. This allows the person being hosted to back out if the expectations don't fit their needs and minimizes the chance for misunderstanding later. Don't feel like you are being picky - the worst for a person being hosted is finding out that there were a lot of uncommunicated expectations that they now need to perform to.

5. My favorite hosts, by far, have been the ones who verbally affirm that they are glad that I am there. Then they invite me into their kitchen or living room, hand me a hot drink (hot cups are proven, if held for a few moments, to improve a person's mood), chat for a few minutes, show me my room, hand me towels, give me the wi-fi code, give me a house tour, open the kitchen cupboards to show me where the glasses are for water, ask me if I need to do laundry and show me where the laundry machines are and to help myself to their soap, and then tell me to make myself at home and that they don't mind if I hang out in the living room, at the kitchen table, or my room and just to holler if I need anything. Sigh. Heaven in a host.

I think most of it can be summed up in the following quote:

"There is no hospitality like understanding." - Vonna Banta

Was it Stephen Covey who said to seek first to understand and then to be understood? If you are hosting, find out what has been going on for the person walking into your house the past few weeks and in the weeks to come and, with a little imagination to fill in the blanks, you'll be surprised how much easier it is to make a gracious place for them to rest. And isn't that what we are all looking for in a home? Just a safe place to rest.

My husband and I have been traveling a lot since the beginning of our marriage. So much that whenever we walk into a new room in a hotel or house, we look at each other and say "Welcome home". For one night at least, your house is their home. And just so you all know: Mi casa es su casa. (At least it will be as soon as we have one.)

Dr. Seuss' Trees

Have you read Dr. Seuss enough that the title of this blog jogged a mental image or two?

I love Dr. Seuss - his creative wordplay and the colorful drawings that accompany them. I love it all because it is so other-worldly. Or at least I thought so. Until I camped this past weekend in the Cascades.

I am amending a few decades of belief that Dr. Seuss came up with the craziest trees imaginable and stuck them in his books. These trees exist! I just didn't know where to look. Or have the opportunity to see them. And isn't that just like life?

We think things, believe ideas, and generally view the world through a lens of our own experience. This is one reason I believe it's incredibly important to have some of my deepest friendships be with people who see the world very differently than I do, but share a desire to see it as it really is.

Even if I've never experienced anything that they have, I can share it with them as they live vulnerably and authentically. And even if I don't know where to look to find something new and wonderful, they help me explore just the right nooks and crannies. And in their experience, something that seems so foreign suddenly becomes real. And in my new experience, something I was blind to I can suddenly see. That doesn't mean that we always agree on what we see. But in respectfully looking together, in sharing the search, my best friends help me open my eyes.

Rearranging the furniture

When life feels a bit too crazy, I like to rearrange the furniture. I have a few friends who like to do the same. Instead of describing myself as a little overwhelmed - I can simply say "I rearranged the furniture this morning" and that's enough to know that there's a lot going on that feels a little out of control. After 7 years of marriage, my husband and I learned that it's really best for him not to make suggestions to me of where the furniture should be rearranged to...that's really not the point...and usually ends badly. Mostly, I just want to feel like there's the possibility of order, when everything feels quite disorderly.

Today was one of those days when I really wanted to rearrange the furniture. But, since I'm living in a hotel studio room this week, that is nigh impossible. The bed is bolted to the wall. And so is the table. I could move the chairs...but they'd have to go in front of the door or in the bathroom. And that's just weird. I could move the dog (not that's he's furniture exactly, but he has been behaving a bit like a rug today) but that's just mean.

However. Not to dismay. The perfect solution presented itself: my laptop! I have been wanting to organize my computer for months now, now that my life focus has shifted quite a bit. The files that I used to need easy access to don't need to be one click away anymore, the names of some of the folders just aren't accurate, and some of the software obsolete in my life.

Enter: Re-arranger of the computer furniture!

Sigh. Now I can sleep a little easier on my bolted-in bed tonight.

Finding a Place to Sleep

I love sleep. Sometimes I ask "Did you sleep well?" or state "I slept great!", as if sleeping is a skill that can be controlled and done well or poorly! My mom says that I'm her only child (of 8) that she never really had to tell to go take a nap. Even as a little girl, I knew when I was tired and needed to sleep - and would just go do it. This skill became rather latent in college when I spent many nights awake into the wee hours studying, hanging with friends, or getting up at 4am to head to crew practice. Rowing on a perfectly still lake as the sun rose...so worth the lack of sleep.

These past five years, while we were hopping around countries, in and out of hotel rooms, and spending nights in international airports, I developed a strong love for airports that help me sleep! Prague's airport is the best - it has a "resting room" with pillows and couches! Bangkok offers seats with no arm-rests so that you can lay across the chairs in the middle of the night,  Taipei offers free sessions in massage chairs and quiet gardens, and even Philadelphia offers rocking chairs up and down the hallways. Unfortunately, I sleep a thousand times better lying down than sitting up.

I am so amazed when I see people sleeping sitting up. Today I saw a homeless man bundled up and surrounded by his things while dozing on an overpass. I also saw a child leaned against his Daddy's chest slightly drooling as he slept in a morning church service. I saw a photograph of a man holding a big dog to his chest, while leaning against a building, both fast asleep.

In the last few days, we've tried to find new places to sleep. We have a one-week plan in a long-term hotel studio, but we're hoping that either the short-sale house we put an offer on over two months ago, or the house we plan to offer on tomorrow morning, will yield a contract by the end of the week that will become our long-term sleeping solution. But, even as we plan, I've decided that my goal for the end of the week should not be results (because what control do we really have over the results? I mean, really, did I sleep well?!) but instead that I will have put my hope in the right place, having "calmed myself and quieted my ambitions..." (David, Psalm 131).

In the end, I can sleep almost anywhere. I know this is true. I've lived it.
But there's only one place that I can place my hope. I know this is true. I've lived it.

The Quail, Eagle, and Hummingbird

Most of my best thinking happens hiking the trail as I pound out miles under my boots. I'm hoping this is true of the past few days as well but, as usual with new thoughts, I will have to wait to see what happens. My husband and I have been searching for a solution regarding a current challenge: we move on Friday but don't exactly know where to move to. Sometimes I can become anxious when I find myself in these scenarios because I like to plan a few weeks out (and perhaps live a few weeks out, too, but I'd rather not talk about that). Increased effort to solve a worry-soaked problem usually happens when I've let myself slide outside the sweet spot of trust in the Good Someone who promises to take care of me. A really experienced and wise man once said that we should look at the birds of the air and see how God takes care of them and that this should inspire us not to worry about tomorrow. 

This past weekend I had the joy of watching three quite unique birds of the air: the California Quail, the Bald Eagle, and the Black-chinned Hummingbird.

The California Quail

Running across the grass, a small pair of California Quail took flight in front of me from short, stubby legs. They were on a mission! My first thought was "adorable".

In doing a bit of research on this bird, I found out that the California Quail is highly social and often get together in groups called "coveys" of 10-200 birds. Males mate with only one female and both parents care for their babies. They like to take dust baths, forage for seed and grass on the ground, and "flush" into flight with a short burst of energy when startled. 


The Bald Eagle

Hovering in flight over the lake, I also got to watch a Bald Eagle go fishing. My first thought was "powerful".

Bald Eagles are carnivores and eat just about anything, but have a special hankering for fish. They can fly at speeds up to 43 miles per hour (70 km per hour) and don't normally like humans, preferring to stay above it all with just one other eagle mate for life. They can migrate, but tend to stick close to home, especially if they've found a great lake and winds to soar on. 


The Black-chinned Hummingbird

Hovering right next to my face, a hummingbird seemed to meet my eye before darting off into the forest. My first thought was "amazing".

Hummingbirds feed on nectar, are migratory, and can go into a hibernation state where they only use 1/15 of their normal energy. While in flight, their heart rate can reach 1,260 beats per minute. They can fly forward at speeds over 34 mph (54 km per hour) and are the only bird that can fly backwards. Their brains are larger in comparison to their body size than any other bird and they like to be alone.

Sometimes people act as if their own life stories and experiences should be indicative of yours. Honestly, I find this to be extremely irksome. I think it's important to share and celebrate each other's stories, but not to assume that all life narratives should or will look the same. As we look at the birds of the air and learn from how God provides for them, I am reminded that we can't expect the way that God provides for one to be the same provision for another. After all, we all have different flight patterns, lifestyles, and daily needs. One of us may feed on seeds, another on fish, and another on nectar. One of us may need lots of people around, another a single life companion, and still another to go it alone. Some like to migrate, constantly on the move, and others to stay in one place, rooted to what they know and love. Diversity found in the birds of the air astounds me; God's diverse ways of providing for humans is no less astounding.

What will be God's way of providing for me this Friday? Who can tell.
But will God do it? Just look at the birds of the air.

Cookie Monster in the Principal's Office

The last two days marked a momentous occasion in my high school experience stash: entrance into a principal's office. And not just one, but two principals' offices!

I was one of "those" kids in high school. The ones that never really got into serious trouble - enough to be sent to the principal's office, anyway. I don't think this was solely driven by good, or even healthy, motives. Actually, I think a lot of it was driven by overwhelming shyness and the fear of having to engage with adults in what to me seemed a severely stressful environment. I vaguely remember goofing off a few times with some smack-down by teachers and thinking: "Please, oh please, don't send me to the Principal's office!" As a result of all this, I was never privy to the inside of a principal's office - just their mini-blinds. Until yesterday. And today.

My F-bomb dropping student has let the proverbial s*** hit the fan in several classes. In fact, I have sworn more in the past 2 weeks, voicing this student's signing, than I have in the last 30 years combined. Thank you Student X, for this unique life experience. But I digress.

Yesterday, I found myself in an interpreter's nightmare: a meeting that involved me as an interpreter and then spontaneously being asked, as an adult staff member, questions during the conversation. PLEASE - if you ever use a sign language interpreter - do NOT talk to them or ask them questions during the communication event. It's just messy. Our brains are not in "engage in the conversation" mode; they're in "switch grammar and vocabulary between the two languages to make each person's message be as accurate and natural as possible" mode. A lot of interpreters don't really remember exactly what was said during the communication event that they are interpreting - all their attention is caught up in the interpreting process. I happen to be one of those kind of interpreters. Perhaps I'm a bit like Cookie Monster:

1. Message comes in and is chewed
2. Message comes out in another form, generally more messy than it went in but hopefully retaining its primary ingredients
3. A few crumbs of the conversation are left stuck in mouth and on chin and arms

Anyway, back to the principals' offices. They are NOTHING like I expected. No harsh words. No stern lecturing. Instead, body posturing and vocal intonation is welcoming and builds camaraderie. A listening ear and understanding, regardless of the accusations being made by the student in the face of what the teacher has said, is offered and encouraged. Unless something is stated against what is in the student policy manual, students are not to be interrupted or contradicted. It was mind-boggling. Those two meetings were without a doubt the most peaceful interpreting experiences I've had with this student since arriving. And it makes me want to beg all the teachers: Please, oh please, send me to the principal's office tomorrow too! The principals' cookies are the best!