Chicken Fried

Since my brother's birthday was this week, Andrew and I went down to Texas to celebrate with him and to see my parents. The weekend ended too quickly, as it always does. It's true what people say about there being "no place like home".

We have worked hard to make this little house in Norman our home, and we do love it. When we move away from here one day, I think I'll always look back fondly on the summer nights when we sat out on the back porch with friends, roasting s'mores in the fire pit and listening to someone playing the guitar. Or the winter evenings when we huddled in the living room with homemade hot chocolate, laughing until our sides hurt during a game of charades. We have a good life here.

But when we want to escape, really escape, we go to Mom and Dad's house in Flower Mound where, for one weekend, we get to shirk the responsibilities of the daily grind and truly relax.

Sometimes it feels like I have grown up ridiculously fast. Getting married shortly after my 21st birthday was young, even by Oklahoma standards. I graduated early and jumped straight into teaching. We started choosing our own insurance, paying our bills, and making all kinds of "grown up" decisions. I wouldn't go back and do any of this differently, but there are definitely times when I feel overwhelmed by how quickly and drastically life changes.

So when those days come, we go to spend time with family, and for once the world stops spinning so fast. I hope we provide this kind of place for our kids one day- a place full of happy memories where time seems to stand still and suddenly the "urgent" (petty) things in life are not so important anymore. I hope that one day our grown boys will sit in the living room and watch golf with their daddy while our girls stay up late talking on barstools in the kitchen. The love of a family is one of life's greatest gifts, and I'm infinitely thankful for mine.

It's good to be reminded that, in the midst of so many changes, some things will always be there and be as good as ever...like Mom's fried chicken and the simple joy of being with those who you love the most.

Thoughts on Peru (after the fact)

Wow. What a week. I'm not really sure where to start, so I think I'll just list some of the things that stood out, in no particular order.

I am a terrible traveler.
I supposed have always known this about myself, but it never has been more evident to me than it was on this trip. Nineteen hours of layovers and plane rides can be very frustrating and exhausting, but that is still no excuse for my snappiness and impatience. God bless Andrew for not giving up on me after constantly being the target of my bad attitude.

One of the many layovers in the airport

Digging, digging, and more digging. Digging all the time.
Our main job this week was to build the foundations for a new church in a very poor neighborhood on the outskirts of Trujillo. Little did we know that the meter-deep trenches we were to dig would be full of trash and rocks. And 600+ pound boulders. Our work felt so futile and frustrating at times. The sun was hot and relentless. But in the end, the Peruvian pastor in the neighborhood allowed us to lay the cornerstone for the new church, and somehow that made all of our labor worth the while.
Some of the missionaries later commented about what great attitudes we had throughout the whole process. All of us just laughed and said that they must not have heard our side conversations as we dug up diapers, plates, and...wait for it...an entire concrete slab. Good times? Maybe not. Helpful? I sure hope so.

One of the four trenches we dug

Pastor Percy handing us the "cornerstone" at the end of our week

Hanging out with Peruvian friends
It's crazy to me that we have been able to stay in touch with these people, who we literally met for about 15 minutes in a conversation class, two years ago when we visited the National University of Trujillo. We have kept in touch via Facebook and were thrilled to have a free evening to meet up again. Sometimes the language barrier can be so irritating when trying to communicate, but we had such a fun night with Magda and Jorge. It's exciting to have familiar faces now in such a big city.

At the Picasso Art Cafe in Trujillo with Magda and her boyfriend, Jorge

Visiting the local orphanage.
I expected this part of the trip to be completely heartbreaking, but it was actually just the opposite. Hogar de Esperanza (Home of Hope) was filled with so much joy. The kids were well-cared-for and happy. The facilities were great, and the staff was kind. There are government-run orphanages in Trujillo, which are apparently devastating, but I was so encouraged that this one wasn't. Adoption has been heavy on our minds lately, and as we played with and held some of those sweet kiddos this week, my heart was so uplifted to think that maybe, one day, one of those precious faces could be part of our family.

So much laughing. (That boy had just fallen in the sand.)

♥

This girl LOVED Andrew. (She is wearing a mask because they think she has tuberculosis.)

We got to help the kids with their homework... right down my alley.

Wearing Andrew's sunglasses

Jose Luis :-)

This sweet boy didn't know a stranger.

Humility.
Peruvians definitely have some unusual social norms, but in general, they are much more humble people than Americans. Humility is such an attractive quality to me.
Pastor Percy is probably the kindest man I have ever met. He is completely unassuming, and the people in the neighborhood have the utmost respect for him because of his meek and gentle leadership. Though he is poor on earth, I think he has a wealth of treasures stored up for himself in heaven.
Another example of humility that comes to mind is Norvil. We visited Peru Mission's wood shop one day, where men are discipled and taught a trade so that they can provide for their families and be good husbands and fathers. I remember seeing Norvil at the wood shop when we came to Trujillo a couple of years ago. I'm not sure if this stood out to me before, but I definitely noticed the softness in his face this time as he expressed his gratitude for being able to work for Peru Mission. He teared up as he talked about his spiritual and professional growth over the past couple of years. I'm not sure why this particular conversation touched me so much. Perhaps it's because people here (myself included) are typically so ungrateful and arrogant.

Pastor Percy and his son, Jonathan

Norvil displaying some of his handiwork

People living in Trujillo have lots of things working against them.
People in America do, too, I suppose, but our problems are different. The one thing that I thought about all week long was Santos, one of our taxi drivers. Bless his heart. Santos's car was the pits. He got robbed awhile ago, so he has to hotwire his car to start it every single time and then untie the wires when he wants to turn it off. His door handle is broken off, so he has to open the door from the inside. His trunk is broken. He keeps his radio in his pocket and has to stick it back in its docking station because someone will steal it again. Some of this was pretty comical to us, because despite the fact that his car was seriously falling apart, he had a dash cover "to protect it from the sun". I digress. The fact remains that his life and his family depend on his job, and his job depends on his one-foot-in-the-grave car. And that is Santos's daily life. He doesn't complain about it; that's just the way things are. Sure makes me feel silly for complaining about the "obstacles" I have to overcome with my wonderful job.

Tim with our three taxi drivers: Lenin, Noe, and Santos. They thought he was so cool.

Laughter with the best team possible
We have traveled with great people before, but this particular group of people worked together so well, and I feel like I got to know everyone so much better in just a week. We laughed so much (probably partially due to the fact that we were deliriously tired). But there was also a sense of honesty and openness that I haven't experienced before on a short-term trip. Thank you, friends.

After breakfast in Lima on our first day in Peru

After church on Sunday. Left to right: Tim, Anthony, Keeley, Brandee, Emily, Mary Rachel, Andrew, Jess

Coming home from Peru gets a little easier every time. I cried the first time because I didn't want to go back to "the real world" and didn't feel liked could serve much purpose in America. I'm figuring out, a little more every time, that that is just not true. I still want to move to Peru at some point (possibly in the near future), but there is so much work to be done here in Oklahoma, too. People may not suffer as extensively from physical poverty (although working in the public schools does sometimes makes me question even that), but the emotional emptiness seems to be far worse. In Peru, people know they have nothing. In America, they think they have everything and it still is never enough.

I don't think a week can change everything, but I am sure glad that I went. For one of the first times in months, I have some hope that God is working for my good, even in desolate circumstances. And I am so thankful that he says to people like me, "Come ye sinners, poor and needy," as opposed to "Come, those of you who have it together, for only you are useful."

I'll leave you with a few more pictures from our trip. The rest are on my Facebook page.

Sightseeing in downtown Trujillo. Love my man.

At the original gate to the city with Emily. So thankful my friend was able to come!

Pastor Percy's wife and their newest daughter, Cristal

Pastor Percy's son, Jonathan. He was so friendly.

I have the best family. (at Huanchaco Beach)

Surfing is not as easy as it looks!

Thoughts on Peru

In a little over a week, we will be in Peru. This will be my fourth time to go and normally, I would be jump-out-of-my-skin excited at this point in time. Normally.

I wouldn't say I am dreading the trip, but I can think of about 20 other things I would rather be doing on my Spring Break this year. I'll explain.

The logistics of planning a trip for eight people to another country have been somewhat crazy at times. I have always sort of taken pride in my organizational skills, but the tediousness of planning this thing has worn me out (and humbled me!). Thankfully, the logistics part of this adventure is almost over, and we will(hopefully!) all be where we need to be in a few days. Also, through many events over the past couple of months, I have been able to see how God has made provisions for us despite my forgetfulness and imperfections. We got a great deal on plane tickets, and fundraising efforts have been generally successful. These are things that I never could have pulled off on my own.

During this process, I have been highly concerned about two things in regards to the other people going: I want everyone to enjoy the trip, and I don't want people to be stressed out about raising their money. Ironically, these are two things that I cannot control really at all. Just within the past couple of days, I have been able to let go of those worries (more or less), which has made me feel better about the trip than I have in weeks.

The main reason I am hesitant about going to Peru this time around is that I am supposed to be going to tell people about Christ, and I am honestly unsure what I believe to be true about him at the moment. This was not the case six months ago. I did not know it was possible for someone (me in particular) to have as much anger and doubt as I have experienced lately. Sometimes it scares me.

I don't have the option of not going on the trip, so I'll leave soon, whether I am ready or not. I don't think that a week in another country will completely turn things around for me, but I am hoping it will give me some perspective, and that maybe some of the anger will subside as I am reminded of how blessed I am in comparison to others. Every other time I have been to Peru I have seemingly "had it all together". (I don't, by the way.). I'm hoping that honesty will be a good thing, because I think everyone struggles and doubts from time to time. Most people just don't talk about it. And when I think about the people who I want to be around, it is almost never the ones who seem perfect.

So, here's to honesty and to being real. And to hoping that somehow, I can still be useful in my weakness.

One Student

I'm sure you remember that one teacher who stood out from all the rest. If you're as fortunate as me, you might even have more than one that comes to mind. She made school worthwhile for you. She changed the way you thought about life. She made you a better person. It's hard to forget those teachers.

As a teacher myself now, I didn't imagine that I would have students who would change everything for me. All of my students are wonderful in their own unique ways, but I have one who stands out in particular. Though I plan to teach many more years, I think that my first year will always stand out- for many reasons but especially because of J.

I got to go to J's birthday party this weekend. I'm not sure how I got invited, really. J and I went round and round when I was his teacher last year:

"J, you need to get off the computer now. Your timer already went off."
"But wait! I just need to beat this level."
"J, computer time is a privilege, so if you choose not to get off now, you will not have time tomorrow."
"I don't wanna do that stupid work!" (as he bangs the keys on the keyboard and slams the mouse).

Or...

"J, I want you to try to read this for me."
He tries. Then, "Oh, I can't do it! It's just too much hard!"
"Let's try it again. I'll help you this time."
He tries, then gets frustrated again, rips up his paper, and throws it on the floor.
"J, you'll have to do it again. You know that's not acceptable."
"Mrs. Fenrick, I just don't like you very much."

But somehow he still wanted me to come to his birthday party on Sunday. I know I didn't do anything special for J, but I guess at the end of the day, he knew I loved him. I'm not sure you can explain to a six-year-old how tough love is the best or that the things he really doesn't want to do are for his good. But maybe somehow he understood.

J had a great birthday party. Friends and family, presents to cover the floor, and enough cupcakes to run out his ears. I'm sure he felt like the lucky one, but I think it was actually me.

Because although there was never a dull moment in my class with J, I did love him at the end of every day. It is hard not love a little guy whose smile melts my heart every time and who puts humor into trying situations. Mostly, he has reminded me what it means to be forgiving. I had him do unpreferred activities all the time last year and took away all kinds of privileges. He would get so mad at me. But when J would get off the bus every morning, it was truly a new day to him. He would grab my hand, and we would go off to face the world together.

When J ran out of the house to give me a hug at his birthday party, I realized that teachers have the best job in the world. And sometimes it's all because of one student.

Grace

I want to believe that there is grace for all people, and even on my darkest days, I still think there is. I think there is grace for liars, for thieves, for adulterers, and for murderers of all kinds. Grace for even me. Because even though those things are wrong, in my heart of hearts I believe that forgiveness can be found for the most wicked of us all.

People want to tell their stories. I think that we all could do a better job of listening. There is certainly a place to speak the truth in love, but let us not forget that one of the biggest elements of truth is the story of the Cross, where vile sinners can plunge themselves beneath the blood poured out and find themselves washed whiter than snow. As people share their stories, let's really hear them. And then let's share the greatest story ever told.

I don't know much these days, but I do know that arrogance never won any souls for Christ. May my life and my words be marked by humility.

Dark

Sometimes the whole world feels dark. These are the times when I'm thankful for friends like Aaron, who held up Moses' arms when he didn't have the strength to do it himself anymore. I read Job. And even though I usually have no words, I pray that it won't always be dark and hold onto the glimmer of hope that it won't be. Because even in the middle of January in Oklahoma, there are days like today when the sun comes out and it is 70 degrees outside.

(There is actually much more to this blog. Maybe someday I'll post the rest of it.)

Mind Garbage

Lately, I have noticed that I spend an inordinate amount of time filling my mind with trash. Do you ever do that? Turn on the TV when there is really nothing that you want to watch? Surf Facebook aimlessly just to catch up on the latest gossip? Consume your day with thoughts of what's going on in the lives of everyone else instead of examining your own heart? Good, I'm glad I'm not the only one.

I recently became hooked on this show called Homeland. The show centers around Sergeant Nicholas Brody, who returns home from Iraq after eight years of being M.I.A., and Carrie Anderson, a C.I.A. agent who suspects he may be planning an attack on America. I hang on the edge of my seat every episode; the suspense is a killer! However, the show also is so disturbing and and perverted that I honestly can't justify watching it anymore.

I'm not trying to condemn people who watch Homeland, or any other TV show, for that matter. I'm also not trying to say that we should all shut ourselves in a closet and be ignorant about things which happen in the real world. I just can't help but think that I need to be more conscious of what is filling my mind because, like it or not, what we see and hear influences who we are. I pray that I can become a better steward of my time by thinking on eternal matters more often than petty, earthly ones.

Be very careful, then, how you live-not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. -Ephesians 5:15-16