My bare feet on the hardwood floor seemed the only sound in the empty house as I walked into the kitchen to the oven (Where were my parents anyway?). In the oven was another card, made to look like a cookie (complete with chips). Before instructing me to sign in to Facebook ("the esteemed social networking site"), this note reminisced about our very first days ever hanging out, baking cookies together, when Scott's brother Mark would "fall asleep" and leave just the two of us to talking ("back when you were just the cute college girl i shamelessly flirted with."). He reminded me of how thankful he was that God put me in his life in the first place.
On Facebook, I found the next note, which again reminisced about our earliest days, and Facebook threads that were hundreds of messages long. He admitted that even sometimes at school (his senior year of high school) he would hurry to the library computers to see if I had written back to him yet that morning (and as it usually was, I likely had) and hurry home from practice wondering what I'd written. He wondered if we ought to thank Facebook even for the first message he sent telling me he liked me (pathetic and poorly written, he thinks it now, but nonetheless part of "our story"). He pointed out the qualities he loved about me then, and his hope to receive many more messages from me in the future.
Amidst my nervousness, I smiled as my heart basked in the quirky beauty that was our God-written story together.
The next note was in my car, "where we first held hands." This one was shaped like a hand, or really two hands that came together at the fold ("This one is weird, Son," Scott's dad had admitted to him teasingly the night before). This card, aside from it's punny note that I was now a palm reader (haha), was a little more bold and to-the-point. "...I hope to get to hold your hand for the rest of my life." My heart beat even faster, and I did my best to breathe as I drove to the next directed location: The swings at Cub Lake (one of my/our favorite places in my hometown) where Scott had asked me to be his girlfriend two years before.
I parked in front of the swings and got out. Glancing over my shoulder, I thought I saw Scott's car pulling out of the somewhat full parking lot. Where could he be going? But there was a little folded paper on the swing, for "Jessay" (Scott's old nickname for me). I opened it with fumbling hands.
This note was shorter. It held a quick one of his "you are:" lists (beautiful, my best friend, my sweetheart, an example of God's love, etc.) and then only a Bible verse--
"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change."
Then a last note:
"Look up."
I looked a little too far up actually (the sky, the top of the swing set...). He said he had almost written "not that far up" but didn't want to ruin the moment. I glanced around uncertainly. Finally he emerged from behind the playground, dressed nicely and holding his Bible. I was relieved a little just to finally see him, as he smiled nervously and gave me a strong hug...and then dropped to one knee, one hand still holding me by the waist. It seemed like a dream (or maybe slow motion) as I heard his words and watched him pull out that little black box from the pocket of his slacks. The ring sparkled brilliantly in the Tehachapi sun. I nodded as I firmly held my hand to his at my waist. "Yes!"
True to form, he asked, "Are you sure?" to which I laughingly responded, "Yes!...Should I be? Did you ask my dad?" He had, and my parents were in fact waiting to make us a celebratory breakfast, before we would head off for a full day at Disneyland.
But for now, we reveled in the joy and emotion of the moment we had both waited for, praising God for his love and ours, and his direction of our lives and our story.
Just a few days before, on our second dating anniversary, Scott had written in the handmade anniversary card his promise that it would be the last dating anniversary card he would write to me. At the time, of course, I hadn't expected that he would come through so quickly! I guess he's a man of his word.
Well, hello, my few-and-far-between (so far), devoted readers!
Sorry that it has been a bit of a break in the updates. I’m sure that you are just dying to hear the rest of the story about “that boy!” I’ve got two excuses for why I haven’t written… one being, of course, the start of my final semester of college (again…so far) and the other perhaps being that on August 24th, “that boy” asked me to marry him!
I said yes, by the way, and sorry to ruin the ending of a story I haven’t yet told you. I think I better end my short hiatus to give you the story of how it happened.
Well, as God would have it, Scott was able to intern this summer at my home church. A wonderful thing, except that the first part of it was a little bittersweet for both as I was in Albania for six weeks while he lived at my house, with my parents, in my town, working with my church, around my friends and family… and of course, my pictures, if you’ve ever seen my parents’ house. ;) Nonetheless, it was a good time for us both. We had never been apart so long since we started dating almost two years before, so of course we were thrilled and relieved to be together again when I returned and he moved to the house of another friend nearby. It was delightful getting to be so close by, getting those random chances to be together for the average parts of life, just us or with groups (like the youth) or my family. And a wonderful added bonus, many of the important people in my hometown life got to know Scott well, and by the time I returned I think even a few of them had begun to like him even better than me. ;)
Of course that included my parents. I think we were very thankful for the opportunity he had to live with them and for all of them to get to know each other better. Our time apart was a good time as well to continue pondering marriage, if and when God would have it for us. I definitely found myself writing a few journal pages about it while I was gone, in the midst of my free time to think. And I was a little surprised to find that by the time I returned, Scott had already much begun the fearsome task of expressing the notion to our parents. Really, at the end of the day, they were supportive (though no doubt they had or still have a few nerves over their youngest, and still young, children).
Nevertheless my mind was left with a few bits of confusion and doubt. It seemed to me at times an incredible thing that we could even consider marriage in the near future. We are young—and if we admit so, certainly others would too. There were and still are so many questions and things we don’t know. But that’s where we learn to really trust God… not when we have a flawless backup plan. (Not that planning is wrong or bad, mind you, but, as we Americans especially must remind ourselves, not that not having a plan is the worst thing either).
But never mind, it was only August. Though Scott was pretty secretive about his plans, even to my prying as to what groundwork he had laid already (Had Dad approved? Had he looked at or purchased a ring?) I figured we would still have at least a good month or so to figure things out, before he proposed. So on one particular Monday (August 23) after Scott had gone back to Santa Clarita before school started again, I went to bed with a few lingering questions in my mind as to just how far we really were into where we wanted to be with the process of planning to get engaged and married. I knew I had very little reason if any to doubt, but it was still just a little hard to believe we’d ever get there.
Ah, dear reader(s?). J Perhaps by now you know me enough to realize that a flaw in my storytelling is that I’m a bit heavy on the exposition. My apologies. Tomorrow, the real proposal story. ;)
I guess Scott finally decided he needed to jump the gun. Just as school was starting up again, it was back to the usual hang-out night with Scott and company. He walked me out to the car again, as usual, afterwards. It almost seemed like he had something he wanted to say… but I had all but given up that thought. I left for my dorm and went straight to sleep. Apparently, Scott didn’t. He kicked himself for dropping another chance to talk to me about his feelings. He had reason to be nervous: he was risking a humiliating rejection by a college girl and the loss of a good friendship, for a chance at a relationship that was and would be against the rules for several more months, and to top it off, he had never done anything like this before!
Finally convinced that written words would be better than an incredibly awkward spoken conversation (keep in mind that, whether he knew this or not, I was at least as awkward as he was about this stuff), he made his most romantic, charming, smooth, and manly move yet—he confessed his feelings over a Facebook message. Now, before you hurry off to give him flack for it, I’ll admit that I think it was a decision that we were both quite thankful for. (That day together he could have told me, I had been feeling queasy already, and quite possibly may have thrown up from nerves if he had told me then. Which, no doubt, would have at least made for a good story).
So at one in the morning, five months from the day we met, he wrote that fateful message—expressing his thankfulness for our friendship, apologies for potentially ruining it and for doing this over Facebook, and his feelings that he felt God had prompted him to finally go ahead and talk to me about. Unfortunately for his nerves, I didn’t check it that night and slept in the next morning, then rushed to meet a friend for lunch—but just before leaving, decided to do a quick check, and there it was. I was totally stunned (and characteristically awkward). I was actually quite thankful that I was even able to drive safely that day, as my head was quite distracted. ;) Before leaving, I quickly typed back that I had been praying for a chance to talk, and that he was very special to me too, and that I would respond more later. To which he simply responded, “K sweet, this has been the most nervous 10 hours of my life! ha talk to you later.” (Adorable? I know.) Our awkward, delightful, blessed journey had only begun.
speaking of which, I was quite determined to finish these stories of our history before he proposed to me.... but, looks like he beat me to the punch. ;)
The group of us continued to hang out often, and Scott and I quickly found ourselves in the realm of good friends—thanks also in part to our many Facebook messages and even a few lengthy phone conversations (unfamiliar territory for both of us, I think). He was always eager to talk to me (I noticed this first at youth group) and we never seemed to run out of conversation—only time. I enjoyed watching him interact with the youth group kids (cliché? But he wasn’t) and by November I could hardly shake the feeling that something was bound to happen here. But… was that what I wanted? Typical girl, it was hard to know. I had already quite convinced myself that life was better for now without a “love interest.” But, maybe God had a different idea after all.
The big chance to end some of my confusion came in mid November, when Allen decided to have a youth group staff retreat in our quaint, pretty home town that he often told the others about. Finally, a chance to at least get my parents’ opinion of the situation! But Scott had a football game that Saturday… Tragic. But on one of our customary conversations as he walked me out to my car after we all hung out, he promised he would do his best to make it. Indeed, he somehow convinced his parents (perhaps something I should still be surprised about) to let him drive out two hours for the remaining 15-ish hours of the weekend retreat at my house. Not surprisingly, my mom took note of this fact. I was thrilled, of course, which mom also took note of, and two of us met him in town in my jeep and we all spent the rest of the evening playing games and baking cookies (the two of us—also customary). By the time the group left the next day, my mom didn’t hesitate a moment to ask her usual, “So, are you two kind of an item?” I said I didn’t know… a state that would continue for us for a while longer. ;) But at least my parents thought he was a good guy.
Over my Christmas break at home, he came to visit me twice—once with his brother and again by himself. At this point I think we can now agree that it was pretty obvious to almost everyone but ourselves that we both liked each other. But, I guess we were naively oblivious. …Although, there had been many a conversation—out at my car, the times we had to ourselves when he visited, over facebook…even a time when we talked for three hours on the phone!—when I had wondered whether he would finally confess his obvious undying love for me. ;) There was of course the fact that we wouldn’t be allowed to date anyway, since I was on youth staff and he was a student (completely understandable in pretty much every other situation)…but come on. I was dying here. But, our day together passed, at times in awkward silence as I waited painfully for him to give me some sort of clarity. Nope! It was certainly on his mind, but the timing wasn’t right (or… he was too chicken to lose my friendship… either way ;) ). Fine, I thought. If he hasn’t said anything by now, he probably never will. At least we had a great friendship.
As it turns out, I should not have underestimated that high school senior from church. I met him on the second day of WOW week, August 19. He was a good friend of a guy I’d grown up with, Allen, who also went to Master’s and lived in Santa Clarita with his wife Vicky and was a youth director at the same church. It was Allen who asked me to consider helping with their junior high program… which, by chance, Scott also helped out with. I would later learn that my graduation announcement photo on Allen and Vicky’s fridge was the first glimpse Scott ever saw of me—as well as that Allen and Vicky had indeed had thoughts of setting us up before we even met. Foreshadowing!! ;)
One of the first times Scott and I began to converse, we started out with the usual topics I’d been well-rehearsed in from WOW week, including the never-relenting “So what do you think you want to do with your life?” (a question better phrased by Pastor Mike as “So what are you hoping God does with your pathetic life?”—either way). It happened of course that Scott told of his hope to be “either a pastor or a missionary.” As my friend Genie once put it, “Oh! Hey, what a coincidence—I want to marry one of those!”
Another interesting tidbit is that we both at one point or another had a sneaking suspicion that the other might be taken. During one of my first group lunch times at his house after church, his brother told a story mentioning “my brother’s girlfriend.” Being somewhat confused at the time as to which people in the house were his brothers, I sorta assumed that Mark meant Scott’s girlfriend. “Ah,” I thought to myself, “what a shame… that is, he seemed wiser than that. I’m sure she’s a nice girl.” I will confess that I was thrilled later to hear the same brother tease him when bowling, “Ah! Scott. That’s why you’ve never had a girlfriend.” Yup, my ears perked up… I’ll admit. And Scott of course (aside from thinking it possible that one of my friends he met had a “thing” for me) assumed in his classic pessimism that he would no sooner like me than be beaten up by some college boy who considered me his territory.
Another point was won by Scott on the night (I believe, once again bowling with the gang) he asked when my birthday was. “Oh, November 20th? What do you know?! Mine is right after that, on December 7th… that makes you only like two and a half weeks older than me!… you’re young!” He had noted my birthday before, of course. He just wanted to make sure that I noted the two. Nice work, Scott, nice work.
And so, I figured, I had not only survived, but thoroughly enjoyed, my very first little mini-taste of international life and ministry (by myself, that is). It was a great trip—short, but packed in with thoughts and learning. I loved it! That little post-high-school week long trip gave me the mental “okay” to continue to entertain the thoughts of such things for my own future. Incidentally, it was also perhaps around this time that another godly young person first saw a picture of me on a friend’s refrigerator. He will come into the story later (and can now be happy he has been given his deserved mention in this blog ;) ).
I continued on to start college that fall. I was thrilled at the opportunity to go to my school of choice, The Master’s College. The first few weeks were a delightful whirlwind! So many new friends and wonderful people (not to mention MANY new facebook friend requests from people who’d just barely stepped out of the realm of “stranger.” Haha). Now, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that probably most, if not all, incoming students to TMC (and probably many other solid Christian schools) can hardly help but entertain at least SOME thoughts of “I wonder if the next person I meet of the opposite gender may be my future spouse?!” (Really, I think even those who try to avoid those thoughts will not get away with it for long, as our “W.O.W.” orientation week is always well known for its plentiful supply of marriage references. ;) I don’t really resent that, just find it appropriate to enjoy a laugh at.
So, now that I’ve qualified and excused myself (just kidding) I will admit that there were some of those thoughts in my girlish mind. Really, how can one not consider the reasonable possibility? “W.O.W. Week” (whose acronym makes little sense) is great fun, and one of the entertaining parts is to watch young students get into “introduction overload” mode. Seriously, by the end of the week, nearly every freshman feels that they must introduce themselves to, chat with, and subsequently add on facebook each person they meet at the pool or in the food line. It’s awesomely, hilariously, ridiculous—though certainly not bad, and again, not something I resent.
So of course I met and conversed with many great young people, and perhaps I should not mention that I would often check off in my head the guys I knew would not match well with me. And there I found myself, several weeks into school, and hardly a single potential guy on the radar. There were a few guys who I knew would be good friends, a few who’d probably be nothing, and one potential good friend from church, but he was still only a senior in high school. It wasn’t really a big disappointment. I decided that was exactly where God had me, and exactly where I wanted to be. My life should never be defined by liking some boy. I would enjoy the beginning of college with my head free of such concerns. I was content.
Tuesday, June
Upon reading Stepping Heavenward again tonight, I realized that I too sometimes struggle to fathom and believe God’s love for me, at every moment, even after all I am and have done. But I must learn to trust that he does!
I asked him to help me see his love for me better… and there it was, clear, his hand on my life from birth ‘til now, and every blessing and challenge He hand-chose for me. If he did not love me, why would he grow me in grace? Has he not had already and does he not still have a plan for my life beyond my comprehension? Many things that are true in my life now, I would never have dreamed before. School, teaching, missions, the changes in me, Scott…Yep, all delightful surprises. Oh, and of course Mexico and Albania. ;)
Dear Lord, thank you for loving me as even I can’t fathom, and having your hand on each part of my life. Forgive me for when I don’t pursue your love. Thank you for trials that press me closer to you or chase me towards your will. Please help me grow more. Thanks for the example of your love in Scott. Help me believe your love even in my failures, that I may act more faithfully.
Well, here is what our weekend held…
On Saturday we got to go to an orphanage, run by Christian organization as well as working with the Albanian government... I think I expected a lot worse when we were told we could just go hold kids that might not get held much... but it was a beautiful place with lots of rooms and the caretakers seemed good and attentive and the babies and young kids all seemed quite happy. Only about 30 kids, I think. A few are abandoned and adoptable (and amazingly, they said pretty much all of these get adopted before they're six or even much before)--the rest have different situations, like maybe parents who aren't able to take them home, or a mom who is still getting set up, or they said even more sad sometimes a mom will get remarried and the new husband won't want the kid. But it was a good place, and cool that they have some good happy endings often. We cleaned and sanitized toys and stuff, the boys got lots of mowing and yard work done, and we got to play with the kids a little too. All are under six and most are under 3.
We got back for youth group, which was good as always. Sunday was church--my 21 yr old student Eriza was there, we want to find her a bible soon in Albanian (she already took one in english). But she is also busy right now because it is test time for the schools, they have crazy tests and papers and everyone is busy and stressed.
After church we hung out with the youth and had lunch, and played some games and I got to play guitar a little. Then we went to a church hangout time at the park... played some games like volleyball and stuff... i'm a little sore ;) but it was fun. and then, oh my goodness, there was a little horse in the park just wandering--i still don't know whether it was wild or belonged to someone... but it was tame enough to have us come up to it, feed it, etc, and was completely fine and i was thinking of our horses, and then a little bit later while we were all standing around one of the missionaries' little girl was feeding it and startled it a little, and instead of just spooking like a normal horse, it lunged at her and bit her! i couldn't believe it... i should have maybe expected something like that, since it was a pony, and as i later realized a stallion (not fixed). yikes. but she bled a little on her cheek and they took her home... i'm sure she'll be fine but she might love ponies a little less now!! I felt bad. :( but she's a tough little girl. whew. so today i'm at the lincoln center, no class until 5 though.
Fri june 4? 2010
Today was an interesting but okay day. In my mind was contrasted the difference between my mexico trip and this one. It is nice to have privacy and uninterrupted free time here… but I think of how much easier it was for me to build relationships and find time to minister when I lived every hour of the day and week among the people. Ah…I appreciate the company here, and the fellow Americans to help me learn and grow and think out my time here—speakers of my own language even! But I can’t help but think of how liberating it was to have only my own feelings and self to contend with, and if I was well enough, then fine, and the rest could be devoted to the people. Here (as much as this is ministry and Christian service as well) I have the emotions and concerns of 7 others to deal with (I suppose) besides the nationals (To those who are single--do not underestimate the gift of this time you now have to focus your mind and actions more unreservedly on ministering to those around you!!). Now, I do like to have others to care and fret for. But it’s even better if those others are my very own (family, etc). It’s as if I forgot, people are difficult sometimes. ;)
Ah, but I think of how blessed I was in mexico. Here at times we have a hard time, feeling useless, or un-missions-y…. Mexico I remember some first few days finding myself on a too-tiny bike with a kid on my handlebars, riding down a road that was much too bumpy to handle… It just doesn’t get much more classic than that. I just laughed inside.
Tomorrow, we go to the orphanage.
Wed June 2
Tonight I was fortunate enough to get to talk to Scott on facebook instant messenger. It was both encouraging and sad… I miss him. He is one who cares about what’s inside me, what’s going on… to whom I can open my heart some evenings as I like to. I’ve really missed talking through life with him. I can and have often lately appreciated how much he has helped me be able to understand and express my thoughts.
It’s been good communication with the group mostly…. But I think maybe I realize, again, more now, like in mexico and Bear Valley, and here, that I grow tired of such ministry situations. In Mexico, I did love working by myself, lost among my people, but I was still lonely for a companion in ministry. Then in Bear Valley, beautiful partnership in some aspects, but still a few bitter stings of disunity or collision—even when I thought I tried my best to communicate and become unified in pursuit and mind. I sought perfect partnership, but it eluded me.
Now, this trip, I really have been blessed with a good hand of ministry companions. And I am more capable than ever to pursue good ministry partnership as I mature… and I love the group, and I can work with this. But. But, but—it’s just not right. There are feelings and opinions and misunderstandings and miscommunications and more I’m sure—even in the best of groups this size. There is no amount of time, let alone understanding for everyone to be on the same page as everyone else. Now I do not expect more for what it is. But again I long for perfect partnership.
…I know that marriage is no perfect partnership. I’ve seen enough of dating to believe that no relationship between two sinful people will ever be perfect. But…God’s very purpose for marriage was or is a unified striving for his better glory and service. –I long for it. I could almost say that I feel disjointed without it in ministry, but I’m not sure that’s how I should feel…because I know I must make the best of each season I’m given.
But, for better or worse, I am sure I do long for the day of ministry like that. Especially the work of ministering to my precious husband (first), to increase his own ministry, and then my kids. This is the ministry that makes so much sense to me… maybe like a bird (this is cheesy) sitting in the nest but longing to take wing. It’s not that I don’t enjoy sitting here, in the comfort of the easy life, but mmm, how it would feel—how terrifying and exhilarating and beautiful—to fly.
Well, i suppose it is high time i write another update to you all! Believe it or not, wednesday May 26 marked the halfway point of our trip--i can't believe how fast it is going. Let me bring you up to speed on a few different things. and knowing me, i'll probably make the length worth the wait ;)
CLASSES
i believe at the time of my last update, we had two classes total with the hope of more to come. We needn't have worried... we now have 11 classes between the four of us with TESOL training--in fact, two of the boys (non-TESOL) have had to step up and help teach two of those classes. we came close to being spread a little too thin, but were able to arrange classes between us (they're at three different centers, by the way, each a good 15-20 min walk apart). Some classes are in the afternoon, but most are in the evening. Most classes are ten or less students, some closer to five. Most are for conversation and general lessons, but we also have one academic writing class, and two classes that are prep for the TOEFL test (a standardized english test for college entrance).
Aside from my original 5PM class with 4 students, i now have a 12:30 PM class with just a few students, and on the occasional days that Jon can't teach his night class, i power walk after mine to the lincoln center 3 to teach it.
The smaller classes are difficult sometimes, especially when attendance is low, but i really enjoy my 5:00 class and the others are going well. I think overall there is a majority of women students, but there are a few men also.
Some classes last two weeks, and some four.
Several of us have had chances to have coffee (or tea in my case) with some of our students, which has been great. Laura and i have gone several times with one girl, who is only 21... she is very sweet and we have enjoyed spending time with her. she and another one of my students continue to come to the church that meets here on sundays.
THE GROUP
we have mostly been good as far as health, with only a few small troubles, but are getting better. I think we'd all agree that our group has been getting along very well and working well together, even when we're spread out and don't see everyone as much. over the last weekend we went to the historic city of kruja, it was really beautiful. bought a few things in the old street markets... it was really cool. and we went to the museum, and saw a statue of the old Albanian hero Skanderbeg. we also went to a restaurant and got "fresh chicken"... Genci told us that it would take a bit longer because they have to catch and kill the chicken when we order it... laura of course thought he was teasing, but he wasn't after all. the girls were quite taken aback. ;) we laughed as Laura insisted, "i can still taste it running around in my mouth!!" hahah. but what a gorgeous view, there were ruins and kids playing soccer in them, we got some really great pictures. (i'll have to post them on facebook, later).
A FEW TIDBITS ABOUT ALBANIA
about the religious atmosphere: a LOT of the people we meet will say they're muslim, but of those almost none are practicing at all. some even claim to be muslim when they have started going to a different church... Just as many in the US may perhaps call themselves Jewish or Catholic more by ethnicity or family tradition than actual practice. So, although the great majority of people we meet would call themselves "muslim" as is reflected in Albanian demographics, i think we have yet to MEET one who is actually practicing to a significant extent... although we have seen just a few here and there on the streets with the head coverings. only very few.
Dear old Mitchell had his share of interesting experiences. Being proudly Chinese (that is, both sets of grandparents were born in China ;) ) Mitchell was a less common sight for many Albanians. Mitchell took most of it in stride, though I’m sure some of the “China, China!” or “Kinez!” ruffled his feathers a bit.
But one of our favorite funny stories: Mitchell was walking with a few others when suddenly an older man caught him by the arm. “Excuse me! Are you from America?” Mitchell said that he was, and the man seemed very excited. “Oh! Listen. I have two nieces. One in Chicago, and one in Los Angeles! Would you like to have coffee?” It quickly became apparent to Mitchell that the man was very interested in setting Mitchell up with one of his nieces… Others who were there may even say that the man practically proposed to Mitchell for his nieces. Hey Mitchell, come on, live a little! (…though perhaps he was waiting not for an Albanian, but for a lovely German girl… ;) )
We also shared a few giggles and eye-rolls when a few of us were approached by an Albanian man who was a Jehovah’s Witness. He didn’t speak much English at all, but tried animatedly to give us some informational pamphlets, quickly sorting through to find English ones. Seeing Mitchell, he pointed his finger as if to say “Aha—wait—“ and then proudly produced a pamphlet in Chinese. Mitchell doesn’t really read Chinese, besides a few numbers and the word for “Japanese person” which he taught me… “No,” explained Mitchell over and over. “I’m from America, I speak English! I don’t read Chinese! …English!” Finally the man understood and gave a resounding “Ah!” continuing, “I’m sorry. I thought, because, you know—“ and he proceeded to gesture towards Mitchell and then stretch his eyes with his fingers to make them look squinted. A few of us suppressed our surprised laughter, catching one another’s glances. Mitchell just sighed as he often does when exasperated, rolling his eyes good-humoredly.
Mitchell once had the experience of substitute teaching Kendra’s class… unfortunately, the poor guy had been given the wrong book to prepare and found himself in the class as if he were up a creek without a paddle! …Though according to Kendra, the students appreciated her that much more when she returned.
Finally was the infamous time when Stephen and Laura were chasing Mitchell around a pool during our VERY windy day at the beach in Durres, commanding him to get in the pool (clothes and all). When he refused, he was struck by a haphazard piece of pipe, blowing in the wind, which cut his head open (not bad, but enough to bleed quite a bit and have all the girls in quite a stir). Indeed he survived, and of course his fuzzy Asian hair quickly grew to cover the scar.
Eva is such a blessing! She is lots of fun and full of comfort and interesting things. She is like our wonderful Albanian mother (though I suppose many of these qualities are hallmarks of Albanian culture itself). Every evening we happily receive her warm greeting and smell her warm, delicious cooking. she insists that we make ourselves fully at home. There seems to be something among Albanians where they'd almost be offended if you didn't allow them the opportunity to go out of their way to make you at home. It's a learning point for many of us Americans, who often live our lives to be as little inconvenience to others as possible. Lest we seem cold to some other cultures, I think it is good for us to learn to be humble enough to accept hospitality graciously, to sometimes allow ourselves to be served. This almost sounds heretical as I write it--Christians, of course, are called to serve others. But I do not think that this necessarily excludes allowing chances for others to serve us as well. I mean that we should have an attitude of humility, whether that be in serving others or in graciously accepting the help or kindness that others give us.
I don't know if Eva knows just how much she ministers to us. She works as a nanny, often for families of foreign diplomats... That certainly suits her. She has the type of heart that looks on the children practically as her very own and cares for them as such... like she has done for us. I even chuckle when she gives us motherly advice or scoldings--from choosing the absolute best food for us to eat when we're sick, to insisting that if i go to bed with wet hair, i will wake up with a cold or cough. Mama Eva...That's her.
