Tag: deep thoughts

I’m happy I can’t see the future

because I would most certainly screw things up if given the chance. This morning I was thinking about how we “should have been” back in the US by now, our year in Egypt completed, and on to our next duty station. Instead I’m driving around Muscat trying to find black dress pants for Calvin’s middle school choir concert tonight, baking a dessert for Carter’s classroom party, planning a trip to Dubai over Christmas vacation, and we still have another lovely 6 months stretched out in front of us before we move on to the next place. (Enshalla)

But if I could have seen the future a year ago I would have been completely traumatized by the idea of being uprooted, going back to the US, then back overseas, the decision to put the kids in school . . . if you had given me the choice up front, I wouldn’t have chosen this path. Even the promise of a good result wouldn’t have been worth it to me back then.

But we have seen amazing things come from our crazy year. Being back at my parents’ house, while frustrating at the time because we had no idea what would happen next, was a wonderful two months where we were completely embraced and loved by them, by people at their church, people from our church, and complete strangers who went out of their way to help us out. And to be home for my sister’s wedding was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I will always be thankful for the revolutionaries who generated my plane ticket home — even though I left the country kicking and screaming on the inside.

And our opportunity to come to Oman? If it had been up to me I would have chosen to return to Egypt, curfews and all. And that would have been the wrong choice. Even though there are plenty of times when I miss our life there, I know we are in the right place for us. Really, if we were moved to Egypt tomorrow, I’d have a long, long list of things I would miss about Oman.

Tomorrow marks exactly 6 months until the last day of school and June 13th is the beginning of our next “unknown.” We know we’ll be moving, but we don’t know where. And the fact that I can’t pick the place (or even the country) is a good thing. Wherever we’re assigned, I know God will provide. I’ll just hold on and try to enjoy the ride.


A very wise person recently reminded me that my children will go beyond where I take them. Ah yes, the reminder that I’m not in control of much in my life. Funny how I always seem to forget that. And the idea that in a few short years these small humans will be in charge of their own lives, earning their own money (hopefully), and having families of their own seems crazy to me in light of the fact that I still have to remind them to brush their teeth and flush the toilet.

Josh married me at 22 (I was older and wiser at 23). In 10 years Calvin will be 22. And yes, I had to remind him to brush his teeth this morning before he left for school. I also got to explain what a condom was because his friends were talking about 8th grade health class where they learn to put a condom on a banana. The kid can’t find his rugby jersey that is folded and put away on the shelf in his closet, but we think kids that age can learn to use a condom properly? Hilarious.

One area where my parents excelled was in the area of sex education. I never felt out of the loop, misinformed. or in the dark. In fact, I always felt more informed and more prepared than any of my friends. I remember being in High School and going to the assembly where they tried to scare us straight by showing us pictures of diseased private parts infected by various STDs (that was also where the banana/condom instruction took place). The photos were supposed to be shocking, but they were tame compared to the textbook my mom had at home from one of her nursing classes. Photo after photo of private parts that were cracking, swollen, ready to fall off, bug infested . . . as my mom was studying for her STD tests we would look through the book and pick out the most disgusting photos and worst looking diseases on each page. I guess my mom was homeschooling before it was cool.

Anyway, we’ve taken a similar “free access to information” approach in our family and Calvin has known all the details of the birds and the bees for a long time, but I guess when you do it that early, you don’t think to discuss birth control. So I explained that purpose of the “love glove” is to keep the sperm from getting to the egg and making a baby. And to keep people from catching diseases (too bad I didn’t have any photos to use as a visual aid). I was rewarded for my efforts with, “Gross.” Then the bus came and they were off.

I’m not going to be able to take him very far in 10 short years. Good thing he isn’t limited to that.

Lucy update

Ah, the joy of enjoying a clean house that was cleaned by someone else who is coming back tomorrow to clean it again . . . Lucy, how we’ve missed you!

Lucy came back to work today after flying in from India early Friday morning. I was worried about her because she looks really tired, but after hearing about her time in India I think cleaning for us will be like a vacation in comparison.

She has stories of having to go to the hospital three times a day to bring pumped milk to the baby, but sometimes not being able to get a cab because the water from torrential rains was chest deep in some places. Other times she would spend the entire day watching over the baby in the hospital only to come home and do the cooking and cleaning at night. She said the laundry was awful because of all the rains and the mud (and I don’t know if she even had a washing machine. I’m sure she doesn’t have a dryer).

Her grandson, Lachlan Ulysses, has been home from the hospital for one week and weighs 2 kilos now (4 1/2 lbs). She said once he came home she didn’t sleep at all because she had to watch over him all night to make sure he kept breathing and didn’t pull the tubes out of his nose. She showed us pictures of him and he is beautiful and alert – just miniature in size. She told Josh his head is only the size of an apple, but she is so thankful that he’s doing well enough to start getting his vaccinations soon. It’s an interesting comparison how they need him to hurry up and grow so he can get shots (because disease is so prevalent there), whereas in America we have the luxury of delaying shots or even opting out of certain ones based on a statistical improbability that it might cause harm to our child.

In spite of the hard time she had these past two months, she is praising God for his provision, even pointing out that having to go home for her father’s funeral meant she was there to make the crucial decisions that probably saved her grandson’s life. Her faith is astounding. I know it was a financial hardship because she had to pay 1500 OR to the hospital ($4000) which is about 8 months salary for her (no, I don’t know how she was able to pay it. I know she is working to save for her younger daughter’s wedding, so maybe she took it from that savings?), but she keeps going. It makes my Western faith look fat and out of shape in comparison. I’m praying that my kid stops throwing up so I can go shopping at the mall while she’s praying that her grandbaby survives and that she has enough money to pay the hospital bill.

Right now we’re off having a $30 lunch and typing on $1000 worth of electronics while she’s at home mopping our floors and cleaning the kitchen. I love having Lucy around, but it often makes me feel guilty at how unfair life is. Don’t worry, I don’t need to be told that I shouldn’t feel bad or that we’re helping her by employing her. Sometimes I need to recognize what a privileged life I was born into and feel that queasiness in my stomach that comes from seeing other people who don’t have enough. Like the 750 thousand people in Somalia that they expect to die of starvation over the next four months. How gross is it that I eat such an excess of food that I have to exercise to keep from getting fat? So. Unfair.