In Honor of Robin Hood and Mind-Blowing Realizations

(Warning: This post may will include some large amounts of exaggeration)

I’ve done a very good job in my life of hiding. I like doing it actually, especially if I have help. I don’t really remember when this story took place, maybe later Jr. high. My family went to this birthday party of a good friend. The main attraction: Dad’s vs. Kids Hide and Seek.

Great I know. Hey! Stop laughing I had fun!

It took place in the backyard of the inviter’s home, and by that I mean it was probably a big enough backyard to have a battle in. No joke. This time.

This battlefield was lined with a dark forest that had snakes hanging from trees with dead branches, cobwebs and such. Real Robin Hood all right. The point of the game was to not be found, (and now you may roll your eyes and say “no duh”) because obviously, I’m not a dad, and they were the ones doing the seeking.

So to begin this adventure, the boys put on there most camouflaged outfits, grease painted their faces and grabbed their highest performing weapons: pocket knives. The girls buttoned their coats against the cold, put on hats and gloves and grabbed their pocketknives as well. What can I say, “we were all from the Texas and Oklahoma Panhandles?”

At the firing of a shotgun into the air, we took off. Across the battlefield, into the dense forest, avoiding the snakes and all that other stuff. And to be sure we weren’t found, we stayed in groups of three. I’m not sure how this would help us out since we were giggly kids who like to talk. I’m serious, most of the people at that party would rather tell a good story [or create one by getting found] than eat dinner. I did not fall into this category. I was NOT going to be found.

But not to worry! [said in my best Robin Hood voice] I had good partners in crime. My sharp shooting, built in compass, life-saving sister Sarah was there for backup and our trusty, and grossly more knowledgeable sidekick, Daniel Fagala, was pulling up the rear. With our mission titled “Become Invisible” before us, we found ourselves a fantastic hiding place. Well actually it was three hiding places.

Pulling rank I decided to hide first. So like a good mission accomplish person, I covered myself with leaves as I was lying oh so still on the ground, okay! So Sarah and Daniel were the ones covering me, but in my defense I was laying still! And I hid.

And I wasn’t found. In fact I was the only one who wasn’t found.

Sarah and Daniel came close, but not quite. I waited until after the second firing of the shotgun to come out. I won the prize for being the quietest: a burnt shriveled-up bottom-of-the-pot hotdog. Because everyone else had beat me back to the house and took all the others. But I was hungry so it was good. The end.

Well, almost. I am good at hiding. I can keep myself quiet, and away from everything and everyone when I want to. But I guess today I wondered if it is because I’m out to win a game or just because I’m scared.

Because I’m scared. I don’t want people to find me because I’m scared. Realization is a hard thing. But one thing for sure, it is mind opening.

And I wonder, how is this new realization going to help me in the future. I mean, other than becoming a super spy, I would have to maybe change a little to live this life. Who knows? God usually does something.

::Backlog:: Nepal-Kawasoti Day One

January 15, 2010

To my dearest brother Caleb, and my good friend Josh,

You two are people that I spend a significant amount of time wishing I could be like. And I wished again today.

I know in a way you both know the feeling, the feeling of high because something is new—the joy in seeing people differently. That’s the feeling I have today.

It’s our first day in Kawasoti, we arrived last night and woke this morning to something new. New room, new people, new breakfast table, new coffee, new thoughts, new cold weather, new definition of time.

It’s crazy what all has gone on today. Like how cold the showers were this morning. And how weird it is to have to walk to an Internet café to be able to check Facebook—if it will even load. Sometimes it doesn’t, or there’s not electricity. Either one.

Then there are how many people I met today, and how many of them looked at me with big eyes as they sat on the floor, men on one side, women on the other, like I had something important to tell them. When the conference stared they welcomed us with so much hospitality, putting lei’s around our necks, and huge ‘winner’ nametags on our jackets. We were even given chairs to sit in. I felt so different.

That’s when it happened. That’s when I started wishing. I wished I could go up to those guys who were my age and say hi, I wished I wanted to talk to people. I wished to be the same and have to sit on the floor. I wished for the courage to just go and sit on the floor.

I will always be amazed at how you, Josh, can make someone feel like a million dollars because you care enough to give a 30 second amount of time that makes people know they have a friend in this world. I will always stand in awe of how cool it is, Caleb that you can make people feel so comfortable around you they forget 11 hours and 45 minutes and several thousands of miles separate you. And for both of you, I wish I could see people so much for who they really are, I would choose to love no matter my own fears.

So tonight when we went on a walk to this great little café and drank the best Nepali tea and I failed epically at talking to and encouraging our host, I thought of you guys. If I could pick the courage of two people in this world, I would pick yours. And if I could ask for a bigger heart I would ask for the heart you guys have.

I miss you both today.

Alana

A Theory Soon Coming

I’m working on a theory.

And yes, normally people who know me well cringe when they hear that. So don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It’s something that has been on my heart for a while now, but especially since I got back from my last Asia trip. Really, my hope is that I might figure it out over the rest of my lifetime. Because it is something I don’t know if I will ever come to a conclusion on. All of that is just to say, even though I will probably be posting several writings on this subject, I by no means have it figured out.

A lot of my journal entries of late (by that I mean 2) have been starting with the greatest wondering of my heart. I wonder what it would be like to truly have Jesus’ heart, to really be able to see with His eyes, and to actually have His compassion and justice. There have been fleeting moments in my life when I know I have somehow been able to set aside my selfish nature and all those things were free to come to my heart. But like I said they were fleeting, only in the moment did I accept the grace for Jesus to fully reign.

Yet, among all my wonderings and ponderings of those times, I have stumbled upon something that bothers me.

Do I truly want to be like Jesus, or am I just trying to make Jesus like me?

You know, in my wanting those glimpses of His heart in me to be here always, do I just try to mold Him into what I would behave like?

I’ve read it many times, even memorized the words Paul wrote in Philippians 3:10: “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death.”

But I wonder. How true is that statement in my heart?

This brings me to my theory. But since this post has already become long, I will wait to put it all down. Instead I’ll just leave a quote that caused me to think when I read it this morning:

“The very scary thing about religion, to me, is that people actually believe God is who they think He is. By that I mean they have Him all figured out, mapped out, and as my pastor, Rick, says, ‘dissected and put into jars on a shelf.’ You’ve got a bunch of Catholics in Rome who think one way about God, and a bunch of Baptists in Texas who think another, and that isn’t even the beginning. It goes on and on and on like this, and it makes me wonder if God created us in His image or if we created Him in ours.”

-Donald Miller, Searching for God Knows What

::Backlog:: Nepal-First Day in Kathmandu

Dear Shep,

Today is my first day in Kathmandu. My eyes have been opened. Again.

As I was riding through the city I was thinking of you. Kathmandu is a complete haze. Smoke and dirt make up the air we are breathing. When we got out of the airplane and through the airport we all shoved into this little tiny van that was suppose to sit seven. It instead had ten.

Driving through the streets I could just imagine you looking through the windows asking questions.

Why do they wear all the same clothes?

Oh I bet it would be cool to lie down and fix a car RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD! Don’t you?

I like this kind of driving…good gracious when are we going to get out of this traffic jam?

How much honking can people do?!?

Did you see how close we were to that little girl? She was almost in the middle of the road!

Oh my! The dirt here is worse than in a tractor!

I could see you wanting to reach out to the people we saw today. I could see you kind heart going out to the old men who were walking along the streets with cement rocks in baskets hanging from their heads. I could see you wanting to jump out and play with the children who were laughing as the sorted trash or jumped rope. It wouldn’t matter what cast they were from.

And when we got to the church, my Nepal home in a way, you wouldn’t have waited to play with the orphans. Not even until dinner was over, and a trip into town to the Internet café was done, and money was exchanged, and a Hindu priest told “No! I don’t want you to put daisy dust on my head!” and material bought for native clothes.

Because your heart is still tender. Your compassion is still much like Jesus’. And there are more than just a few days that I wish I could see through your eyes.

I love you little Brother. You inspire me to be more like Jesus. Thank you for that.

'Lana