My Life as a Criminal

I’m laughing. Really. So everyone, laugh.

It cracks me up how small my town is. Everyone knows everyone. Well, at least everyone knows either my dad or my grandparents. Occasionally it’s my mom who’s at fault, but normally it’s the other three. And that is where my story begins.

I was driving home on Labor Day (bad idea I know.) from a wonderful weekend with my cousin Skylar. Just that morning, we had gone to Hobby Lobby and talked about how horrible it would be to speed on Labor Day and get caught. Pretty much can’t do any talking to get out of that. And thus, with this in the back of my mind I started home. It was a four-hour drive. Not bad really, but we had had a great weekend, and being thoroughly sunburned I was pretty tired.

Just for the record, I wasn’t speeding people. Not all the way home. I mean, I do speed sometimes, you know rarely. But I do ok at following the law. So here is my case: I was tired. I was sunburned. And I just wasn’t paying attention. No reason for a ticket right?? Well I guess the officer didn’t agree. And well as Sky and I decided earlier, I got “it” stuck to me.

I was mad. I didn't yell and get dramatic but I was mad. And I informed my dad that if he was going to raise me like him, I was going to get in trouble, and I was not going to be happy with him.

Well to make a long story short, my parents left town. Just up and left, and I had this great horrible thing of having to pay a great amount of money for my great crime.[Yep, that many "greats"] So I sulked into the Judges office ready to give away my life savings. But much to my horror and everyone else’s amusement, the judge walked out of his office, recognized me immediately as my dad’s daughter and said, “What in the world are you getting a ticket for?”

Well it’s written there in black and white. His response was just, “Coming into town?” Yes.

As I proceeded to pay my bill, he stopped me. “How would you like to do community service and save your money?” Considering it’s pretty much all I have, I would do anything. Little did I know how much I would be the maker of every one in the courthouse day.

So early last Wednesday, I walked into the courthouse ready for my punishment. I was assigned to the auditor’s office. Did you know I know everyone in that office, I mean everyone? And if I didn’t know them, they knew me? And did you know they do their far share of speeding in that same area, and haven’t gotten caught? Or that they all enjoyed laughing at me? Did you know I didn’t mind one bit doing their “dirty” work? It was actually fun. But I was oh so happy to be let off with half a day less than first required. And I was oh so happy that I’ve now paid my debt to society and am back in good standing.

My life as a criminal was short. And I actually enjoyed it. Really the humor in it only counts if you were there—Watching me take out the trash and tell everyone how I got half demoted half promoted from reporter to file lady by being tired. Well it was funny.

My advice: don’t speed when you come into my hometown. You should be safe.

Of Jesus and Suffering

I've been reading a book lately called Humanitarian Jesus: Social Justice and the Cross by Christian Buckley and Ryan Dobson. It's been convicting to say the least.

As a humanitarian and social activist, but first a passionate follower of Jesus Christ, I've often struggled with meeting the overwhelming needs of the world AND sharing the wonderful gospel that will meet the greatest need--eternity. There are always questions about lines that should or shouldn't be crossed, there are always toes to be stepped on and opportunities to be passed up.

But the great question to me has always been: is it right? Is it right to not step over the line and share the gospel, is it right to step on toes and take care of physical needs when you are "suppose to" be sharing the gospel? Is it right to pass up an opportunity to share Christ when you are there to give clean water, teach English or even rescue from slavery?

I can't think of how many times I've heard the verse "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." (Matthew 25:35-36) as the reason Christians should be socially active. It's as if this verse is the heart of Jesus, meeting the needs of people to show them the gospel by loving as Christ loved.

I agree.

But today, I want to leave something to think about, did Jesus always heal? Did Jesus always fix the needs to have people follow him? Was it Jesus goal to take away physical pain and suffering of this world before eternity comes?

"The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he as anointed me to preach the good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Luke 4:18-19)

When it comes right down to it, I'm thinking about the order of Christ's purpose. I'm thinking about the main reason Jesus came. What does that mean for my purpose? What does that mean about the church's purpose?

And when the answers come, is there boldness to actually take the action needed?

Home Alone

You know, I'm not a fan of being alone. I love people much to much.

When I was living in Taiwan, I had an amazing roommate. But as it happened she had some health problems and for several weeks I was without a roommate. One day, I was shocked out of my skin when I was talking to my team leader Davina, in her room and suddenly, her roommate, Sarah, came walking in with my mattress. It was probably the best gift I could have been given right then. Being alone in my room had really been wearing on me, and I needed to be sleeping in Sarah and Davina's room. I love them to this day for it.

I bring this up just because I'm now once again in a room alone. This time I'm okay with it. But what I'm pushing through for the next several days is my loving parents are off on their 25th wedding anniversary cruse. I'm so glad they got to go.... and I'm home alone with the other 5 children.

Let's just say that I really love my parents and I'm SO grateful for them. And to make it a little better I'm keeping a quote log:

"Lana, I'll help you clean up the kitchen!!"

"Lana! You're WRONG! MOMMA does put wipes in the toilet!"

"If I work ahead then I don't have to do ANY school ever again! Right??"

"Alana, your macaroni and cheese wasn't too bad today."

"I want to sit on your lap, no beside you, no on your lap, no beside you. I don't like you!!!"

"I'm sorry, lana, sorry lana, sorry lana. I'll sit on my potty now. I'm sorry lana."

"Where's the lellow broom lana? I'll sweep. Oh I wanna play with my truck!"

"PEACHES!!"

And that's all for now. God is the giver of grace, and well I'm grateful. I'm also grateful for running. And that kids say things that make you have to laugh out loud. That's pretty wonderful too!

-The Nomad

In Honor of Today

I was digging through archives and found this:

February 2009

There is so much that I could wish for. Really. I mean even though it probably won't come true, wishing that something interesting won't always happen when I travel isn't a bad thing. Because something always happens. And right now I'm sitting in the Kala Lumpier airport watching two very protective looking guards walk around on patrol thinking about what I just lived through.

Looking back, I wish I had just one guy friend there with me, just to be a presence. I wish I had the F-off written on my forehead like P. I wish I knew more about explaining my faith to Muslims. I wish I wasn't so darn available. I almost even wish I didn't have big green eyes and lots of freckles.

His name is Casey. He is from Africa, (very good looking, thick ghetto accent, flashy clothes big earrings in each ear) I don't remember where, somewhere on the west side. All I was doing was observing people, wondering, praying and taking pictures, when he suddenly asked, “Hey do you want to take my picture?” Well, since I'm here taking pictures, sure why not, I love taking pictures of people. So one picture, a little bit of chit-chat and a “Thanks!” and I'll be on my way to walk around and do my own thing. It didn't really work out that way.

Suddenly he was introducing himself, jumping off the ledge he was sitting on and standing a towering 6'4” or 6'5” right in front of me. And he was firing questions at me so quick I nearly couldn't hear all of them. At first all I could think about was being my polite southern raised self and kindly answer the few questions he had and then gently move away. He had more than a few questions, and gently moving away proved to be impossible. In fact after the questions moved from what I did for a living to “How old are you?” and “Do you have a boyfriend?” I really realized that I had for the first just by walking by caused someone to have a crush. And he was very forward about his crush. “Why don't you have a boyfriend?” This led to me telling him where I live, and why I want to have my whole heart there. “Can I have your phone number.” NO. “I don't want to lose contact with you, is there anyway I can talk to you?” Would you please stop asking me those questions? “Oh come one please!?” fine. I'll give you my rarely checked email address. “Where are you going?” To see a friend in Indonesia. “Is it a guy or girl?” You can't lie Alana. A girl.

Okay can I please go now? “Why don't we go over here and talk? I just can't let you go. I mean I've never talked to someone like you before. And did you know that you are so beautiful? Do you believe you're beautiful?” Yes, God made me that way. And dude, you aren't the first guy to tell me that. “God, you believe in God?” Yes, I'm a Christian. Jesus is my Savior. “Oh wow. I love you for that. I mean I believe in god. So lets go sit and talk.” I really want to run, but I'm thinking he's gonna follow me. Alright. “....Okay do you like to play games?” Sometimes. “I have this game that I like to play, I ask you questions and you ask me questions, anything and I have to answer them truthfully.” Okay.... But we have a limit Yeah I'm clever. We can only ask 10. “Okay I'm cool with that.”

He asked me just about everything, from if I believe in love, the romantic kind to who is my best friend, to how many siblings I have to is the Christian God the same as the Muslim God. And I asked him questions, hard ones. Like to him who is Jesus? If he were to die tonight would he go to heaven or hell? If he could change something in the world and make it a better place what would it be? He really didn't have answers for any of my questions. He just tried to talk his way out of things. He told me he was “Chrismilm.” Half Christian, because his mother is Christian. Half Muslim, because his dad is Muslim. I hate to point it out to you dude, but you can't be both. That is one weird combination of a family. Especially a family that stayed together until his father died.

I guess, I also wish I could say that I wasn't taken back when he for the fifth time told me I was just “so beautiful” or “You know I’ve been having lots of dreams lately. About the girl who I know is the one for me. I’ve seen her face clearly, and I know it’s you. So I’m going to ask you—are you the one from my dreams.” Big fat NO there. “No really, I think you are. Are you?” Um No. Really NO. I don’t think so.

Who is this forward anyway?

Over the last hour I was just myself, blunt to the point, sharing my faith as a girl completely in love with Jesus, a world changer, living the life that God has so graciously given me. How did he get to the conclusion that I was the girl of his dreams from that? He was impressed with my life. An English teacher in Taiwan, a photographer, and in his mind a preacher. I pray that he didn't miss that God is the one who gave me everyone of those things. I pray that he will quit seeing me and become impressed with God.

Why did this happen anyway? Could anything more crazy ever happen to me?

Well I finally did get away--but not before 2 more hours where up. And yes, there is more to the story.

Really, I laugh at how many proposal's I've had. This guy did ask me again to go back to Africa with him.. be the girl of his dreams. For serious. [bleck!] I counted up, I've had 5 dead-serious marriage proposals in my life. I'm not counting the ones that old men yelled at me while I was living overseas. All of those guys were wasting their breath, because I haven't said "yes" yet. Who knows maybe the 6th will be the one, it's not going to be coming soon though :)

This story is just for today. Because today is beautiful. And all archives and adventures should be shared. Especially when they are so darn awkward!

Just to wrap up the story I'll add a little more of what I wrote that night.

-Alana

I don't know how God is going to use me being real about Him and not taking any of the crap that Casey dished out as anything important. God is still God. And if my telling some of my passions and a little of my story will somehow make it to Africa and be used by the Spirit to do great things--I don't know. I still can't believe that I lived through that. And no Daddy I have no interest in being the girl of his dreams. No worries.