“Fernweh” and “Heimweh” — words for the one who’s far from home {A Life Overseas}

/ trotters41 / Leave a comment

Elizabeth is over at A Life Overseas today . . .

agriculture-1807581_960_720a

I found a new word on the Facebook profile of a missionary writer, and it’s the best new word I’ve heard in a long time. It’s called fernweh, and it’s a German word that means “a longing for faraway places.”

The feeler of fernweh carries a desire — whether met or unmet — to travel to distant countries, to visit new places, and to have new experiences. Its nearest English equivalent might be the idea of “wanderlust.” When transliterated, fernweh means “farsickness,” in much the same way that heimweh means “homesickness.”

Fernweh and heimweh: these sister words draw me in. Ever since I found them, I cannot get them out of my head, for I live in a faraway place.

At least, it’s far away from the Europe and North America in which I grew up. It was far away, but now it’s near. I find now that the faraway place has become home, and home has become the faraway place.

Finish reading this post at A Life Overseas.

A Few of My Favorite Things {January 2017}

/ trotters41 / Leave a comment

My favorite things come a bit early this month, as I’m preparing to take two weeks off from the internet. ~Elizabeth

som2

Taking a Kassiah Jones Day. I took one of these right after New Year’s. We worked really hard in December on our co-op play, and we didn’t take much time off for Christmas, and then my husband got sick, so by the time I got to New Year’s, I was desperate for a break. I was so glad I took one.

A couple weeks at home. January gave us some downtime in between the chaos of Christmas and the start of this semester’s home school co-op. I took the opportunity to take better care of my body (through exercise, which I neglected last semester) and better care of my marriage (through time with my husband, which I also sometimes neglected).

Hearing the birds. Our neighborhood is loud, but we had one week this month when I actually heard the tweeting of birds in the mornings. It was glorious. I wrote about it here on Facebook.

Attending a ladies’ retreat. This event was a couple of hours outside the city, so there were long walks to be had and more nature to be enjoyed. But the part I liked best was getting to know more deeply some ladies whom I’d only seen in passing.

 

BOOKS

The Story of Ferdinand by Munro Leaf. We’ve had this book forever, and I read it to the boys when they were little, but somehow it fell to the bottom of the toy bin, and I just rediscovered it while organizing my girls’ room. I thought they would enjoy it, so I tried it out with them, and my youngest especially fell in love. I did too. Ferdinand is for the introverts, the contemplatives, and anyone who lives with or supports one. This slim little children’s story is incredibly compassionate and wise.

Telling God’s Story by Peter Enns. The first half, in which the author lays out a logical and friendly way in which to share the story of Scripture with our children, was perfectly fine, but the second half, in which Enns offers a survey of the Story, was superb. It told the heart behind the stories in the Old Testament, and Genesis in particular, in such a way that it made me grasp the heart of God better.

Something Other Than God: How I Passionately Sought Happiness and Accidentally Found It by Jennifer Fulwiler. I’m so glad I stuck with this book, which was a real tear-jerker at the end. I often thought there were too many unnecessary sensory details in this book – but perhaps that’s the INFP coming out in me. I don’t need sensory details; I need the inner workings of the mind and heart. I related to a lot of Jen’s journey though: the desire to find the right LOGICAL answer and to go about finding it logically but then to get stuck, because the way to approach God is with a humble heart, not a mind that’s sure of itself. And I, too, have had trouble feeling the presence of God until I come to Him as a broken, repentant sinner. I did not read this story solely as a conversion to Catholicism but as a conversion to Christianity out of atheism, as a journey from disbelief to belief. The beautiful the way God started meeting their dire financial needs right when belief was beginning to blossom touched me deeply.

Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan. This is the story of an Indian girl’s arranged marriage and all the ways life falls apart for her. But don’t worry, this story is not like Humpty Dumpty. It gets put back together again in just the right way. I read this children’s novel one morning during the “lull” of a play date.

 

 

BLOG POSTS

Onward Christian Hobo by M’Lynn Taylor. I love everything M’Lynn writes on Velvet Ashes. Often she makes me laugh; this one spoke of our deep need for Home and also touched on the way our “words of the year” often surprise us.

The Gospel in a Psych Ward by Marilyn Gardner. Everything Marilyn Gardner writes is worth reading, and this post is no exception. If the Gospel cannot touch the psych ward, it is not the gospel at all.

Real Friendship by Kathleen Shumate. Kathleen has guest posted for A Life Overseas before, and everything she writes is both deeply true and densely written. In this post she once again cuts straight to our core needs and longings.

Death, Rebirth, and New Beginnings by Angelina Stanford on CiRCE Institute. Do not get me started on how much I love Angelina’s work! (I link to an excellent lecture from her in the next section.) You know that anything on death and rebirth, especially in tandem with the seasons, catches my attention.

Dear Women’s Ministry, Stop Telling Me I’m Beautiful by Phylicia Masonheimer. Agreed. My most deeply felt need is not to know I’m beautiful; it is to know I am both loved and valued. Teaching us that we are children of God, deeply loved and cared for and redeemed, should therefore take higher priority than affirmations of our beauty.

Let Music do the Praying For You by Karen Huber. Lovely and true, Karen paints our longings with both words and music.

I’m a Short Cup by Megan Gahan. Much to my chagrin, I am also a “short cup” (where others might be a venti). And like Megan, I need my “sanity sandwiches.” I’m currently in the process of learning how better to practice boundaries and pad my schedule with enough margin.

And lastly, some cool stuff about lichens from the ministry of Does God Exist? If you follow them on Facebook, you can read regular posts about God’s exquisite design and creativity in nature.

 

MUSIC, POETRY AND A PODCAST

Unsaid by Dana Gioia. For anyone who’s grieving and can’t put words to the pain, this short poem is a balm.

Trust in You by Lauren Daigle. Especially the chorus:

When you don’t move the mountains
I’m needing you to move
When you don’t part the waters
I wish I could walk through
When you don’t give the answers
As I cry out to you
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in you

We sang this in church, and my kids and I loved it. It sounded strangely familiar, though, so I looked it up. I had heard it before – and hadn’t liked it. For when I heard Lauren performing the song, it had seemed to be more about showcasing her magnificent talent than about voicing any prayers to God. In my opinion, fancy vocals draw attention away from God; congregational singing points only ever to God. So I think this song is much better sung congregationally than individually. Putting our trust in God is a collective activity. We are the people of God, and we must declare it and live it together.

(This happens to me regularly. The contemporary song I chaffed at, whose sound grated on me, turns into a moving prayer when sung corporately.)

(I know I am particular about these things, about song versions and such, but these are some of the reasons.)

Christ is Enough by Hillsong. This song was playing in my head the week I wrote If your year has been a flop, and then on New Year’s Day, what do we sing at church, but this song? And I needed to sing it that day because I wasn’t exactly believing it at the moment. (But I have to say, I prefer the way we sing it at church to this recording. It’s just a bit slower and more contemplative.)

The Distorted Image: Greek Mythology and the Gospel by Angelina Stanford. Illuminating. I’ve listened to Angelina before (on the redemptive power of fantasy at the bottom of this page), and she packs a lot of thought and information into each sentence, so an entire hour of listening to her will stretch your mind. (In fact I need a re-listen of this lecture.) Here’s the main idea: in much the same way that the tagline of the Jesus Storybook Bible is “Every story whispers His name,” this talk from Stanford offers basically the same thesis — though on a much more complex plane. I particularly appreciated her in-depth explanation of Acts 17, which I’ve always loved but will love even more now. (I grabbed this lecture when it was on sale for free, but it’s still worth the $3 that it’s currently priced at.)

Two Sanity-Saving Home School Practices

/ trotters41 / 3 Comments

by Elizabeth

I’ve written lots of theoretical home schooling posts before (see here, here, here, and here), but sometimes we just need a little practical help. So that’s what I’ve got for you today: two practices that are saving my sanity right now. Maybe they can help you, too.

frogschool

LOOPS

I first heard of looping from Sarah Mackenzie (here and here). In a nutshell, loop scheduling is a technique that can be used for subjects you need to get done regularly but that don’t have to be completed every single day. (That means math is a subject that should never be looped!) Classic looping examples come from the fine arts – things like picture study, composer study, and poetry reading. It can also be applied to various housework tasks.

When I first heard of looping, I didn’t think the concept applied to me, so I ignored it and moved on. Then this year happened. I now have a 7th grader, a 5th grader, a 3rd grader, and a 1st grader. That’s a lot of grade levels to manage. And it’s a lot of language arts — if you, like me, think each child needs to do reading, spelling, phonics, handwriting, composition, grammar, and vocabulary each day.

The hours required to do that many subjects within a subject was eating up our days. And I constantly felt like a failure, as we simply could not finish every single piece of language study every day. Nobody had ever told me that all my children needed to do every language art every day, but somewhere along the way I internalized the expectation.

Then I started remembering my own middle school education. I only had language arts for one hour per day, plus homework. But that wouldn’t add up to 3 or 4 hours per child per day (HALF our home school day), even in middle school. It would be 1 or 2, max.

Then I remembered some more: we studied language arts in units. We’d have a poetry unit, then a grammar unit, then a literature unit, then a composition unit. We didn’t do all the things all at once.

I started thinking I needed to apply this to our home school. I started thinking in terms of units. If we’re deep in an intensive writing unit that already takes a couple of hours a day, it’s just torture to add the stress of separate spelling and grammar and vocabulary lessons at the same time. Why not finish the writing unit and then move on to the nitty-gritty of grammar or spelling?

And why had I not thought of this possibility before?

Later I spoke with my husband – who was himself homeschooled – about these things. He agreed that my expectations had been ridiculously high and supported my effort to find more reasonable expectations.

Then I spoke with my Home School Mom Friends, and they reminded me that my “new” approach had a name – it’s called Looping.

So that’s what we do now. We loop our language arts, and everybody is much happier and less stressed.

***We do not loop reading. Reading – both reading aloud together and reading silently alone — is the foundation of our education, and they happen every day. ***

 

LULLS

I’m a type-A, perfectionistic, over-achieving person with a bent towards workaholism. In the past, therefore, whenever we had any down time in the home school day (immediately after lunch, for example, or when all my kids were working on individual assignments), I tried to fill that time with other work: emails, blog posts, life planning, ministry event planning. I wanted to squeeze every available second out of my day.

This posed a problem for me, however, because in entering another world, I was drawn away from my home world. Once I entered the world of outside work, it was hard to shift my mind back into whatever school question (or sibling squabble question) was being asked. And an open computer is a distinct sign to children that you are not available to them.

My thoughts and attention ended up being divided, and I never felt like I finished any one thing. I was trying to become more efficient but ended up being less efficient. (Additionally there’s the black hole of social media, surrounding which I deceive myself about how productive I’m really being.) I was perpetually exhausted in this kind of non-boundaried life. And I think my kids were getting less of me than they deserved.

So during school hours, I started committing not to open the computer in order to “be more efficient.” I decided to read picture books to my youngest during that time. Or read something from my long list of books I’m always trying to get to but am too tired to read by the end of the day. When a child comes to you with a math question or a life question, it’s much easier to put away a paper book than it is to put away a screen.

I call these times the Lulls. They are the lulls in the day that I used to try to fill with more work. Now I stay present and fill them with my own education or enjoyment, and I feel less harried. Before, I was always trying to rush through school work so I could get to my “other work.” Now I don’t rush. Now the school day is more peaceful. And it’s all because I use my Lulls differently.

I should also mention that different days have different Lulls. If my older children are all doing a review assignment in math, I have much more Lull time. But if they each need to learn something new (or on the days we attend co-op), I have less Lull time. But that’s OK. The Lull time isn’t meant to be productive. I’m not trying to “get work done.” I’m merely trying to be more focused and effective in filling the time gaps.

stress-1277561_960_720

So here’s how to apply the sanity-saving practices of Loops and Lulls to your day:

Loops: Follow those links up above to Sarah Mackenzie’s Loop Scheduling instructions. Spend some time figuring out which of your subjects a) don’t need to be done each day or b) already aren’t getting done each day. Place them on a list and cycle through them one by one. All your looped subjects will now be getting done on a regular basis, and you’ll feel less guilt and less pressure.

Lulls: Commit not to do other work while you’re teaching your kids. This is hard, I know. We want to get as much done as possible each day — “redeem the time” and all that. But focusing on school work alone helps your day go much more smoothly and, in the end, helps you be more efficient and less stressed out.

Happy Home Educating!

Running to Jesus?

/ trotters41 / Leave a comment

by Jonathan

run1

Running to Jesus is not always the answer.

Recently, I read about the rich young guy who did what we typically label a great thing: he ran to Jesus. In Mark 10:17, we read that he “came running up to [Jesus], knelt down, and asked, ‘Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?’”

But why was he running?

Was he running because he had a ton of important stuff to do? Was he coming from some uber important business dealings, looking to get a quick Word from Jesus so he could return to real life?

Was talking with Jesus an afterthought, something he might just be able to fit into an otherwise stuffed schedule?

Why was he running?

Was he running in desperation? Had he reached the end of himself and realized his need for salvation? The text doesn’t seem to say so. Actually, the text shows us a guy who’s pretty sure he’s got it all together. He’s got money, for sure, and he’s got pride. But it’s not really the bad pride, right? It’s the kind of pride that says, “Well, actually, I’ve kept the entire law all my life.” Oh snap, that is the bad pride.

But why is he running?

It looks like a bullet point to me, an agenda item – “Ask Jesus how to be saved.” Check.

Jesus sees this guy, the man with all the right answers to the wrong questions, and feels “genuine love for him.” Even so, Jesus doesn’t throw open his arms or the gates of heaven for this man. Because this isn’t how a person is supposed to run to Jesus. He is not prepared to enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

So why does he run? Well, because he is us.

We run and we run and we run, and then we see Jesus in someone, or we read a powerful book, or listen to a touching podcast, and we cry out, “I want that! I want peace and love and joy and salvation and whatever THAT is!” But we’re still running. We’re still loving our busyness or our business. Our legs have carried us to a legitimately good question, but our hearts are three miles behind.

I want to stop running.

I want to walk with Jesus, slowly learning his ways, hearing his voice.

I want to remember that Jesus doesn’t dole out life-changing maxims in 140 characters. He says “Follow me while I walk. Watch me. Be with me. And I will show you.”

It’s a slow faith, without shortcuts or belief-hacks.

May we follow Jesus like that.

And when we do run to Jesus, may it be with childlike confidence and joy. I think he likes that kind of running.

I’ve come to believe that Jesus is not a big fan of fast faith, where I try to fit my big questions into little boxes, hurriedly scarfing down truth.

I need to walk with him, slowly.

Do you?

A world in need of water

/ trotters41 / Leave a comment

by Elizabeth

water1.jpg

I once listened to an interview with Linda Sue Park, author of the children’s book Long Walk to Water. I remember being completely struck by her comment that if you don’t have water, you don’t have anything. Water is everything. Even more than food, water is LIFE.

But access to water is something I have always taken for granted. I’ve been insulated from these things. I’ve never worried about where my bathing water or washing water, let alone my drinking water, was going to come from.

Beyond that – I’ve never worried about whether my water is clean. I’ve always had access to clean, safe drinking water, even in Cambodia. And I swim in large, artificial pools of water FOR FUN.  Talk about privilege.

Some time later, I read in Pacific Standard magazine about Colin Kelley’s research on water distribution. How a lack of water is one the factors that can lead to instability in a region. And how experts thought nothing could happen in Syria, it was stable. Nothing — that is — until a drought descended, and the whole region destabilized. Practically overnight.

Kelley’s research shows that the Syrian drought was made 2 to 3 times more likely by “human influences.” Human influences like grazing policies that favored larger farmers, and the ensuing desperate attempt by smaller farmers to access water any which way they could: by digging wells. So ground water became depleted. Wheat crops began to fail. Families started to migrate. And the whole system started to disintegrate.

But this is not the first time human behavior has affected the environment in negative ways. Susan Wise Bauer, in a recent Psychology Today article, says that when ancient Sumerians needed more water to grow their own wheat crops, they simply irrigated their fields with the nearly fresh (but slightly brackish) water of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. When it became clear that the fields were suffering, they refused to fallow the fields to allow for recovery.

While it led to prosperity in the short run, over time it led to political and economic instability and, eventually, permanent desertification of the area. So no, the modern world is not alone in its abuse of this good earth. And truly, the reach of the curse is far.

But problems like the ones faced in the Middle East can happen anywhere, because lack of access to basic resources like food and water affects political regimes. And people like Colin Kelley work hard to predict the next great shifting of people, power, and resources.

One of those places is the American Pacific region – all the way from Mexico, whose drought in the 1990’s and early 2000’s led many to migrate north, up through California, and into Oregon and Washington.

Agricultural workers already had to cycle through various crop locations each year. But then drought came to California, and workers were fainting in the fields from exhaustion and dehydration. Then they couldn’t make quota. Then fields started to close. And families had to move.

These agricultural workers lead economically precarious lives. Surely drought affects poorer workers much more severely than it affects the middle and upper classes, whose lives are far more cushioned against climate troubles.

And that is the point in the article where I paused. I paused to mourn for the families in California — and the Middle East — who are intimately acquainted with the current drought. I paused to mourn for people who are displaced because of these current droughts. I paused to mourn over the human contribution to these current droughts.

I paused to contemplate how silly my ministry pursuits, or my educational concerns for my children, or my desire for leisure time, might be in the light of people who have no water to drink and no food to eat.

And I paused to long for the day when this current worldly mess will all.be.over.

Then I had to press pause on my pause and put the magazine up, because my children still needed feeding and bathing and tucking in.

But I won’t stop longing for the Day.

——–

Sources:

Sarah Mackenzie’s interview with Linda Sue Park, author of Long Walk to Water, at Read Aloud Revival podcast.

“Droughtlandia” — an article by Jeremy Miller in Pacific Standard magazine.

Research Spotlight on Colin Kelley, also in Pacific Standard magazine.

“Destroying the Planet. We’ve Been Doing It for a Long Time.” — an article by Susan Wise Bauer in Psychology Today magazine.