The New Normal

As I write this, I am listening to the sounds of rolling thunder and heavy rain mixed with a cacophony of voices blaring through loud speakers, “Allahu Akbar!” (God is great). The power was out a few moments ago, but is back on now. The coolness created by the downpour that is normally allowed to spill in through the open windows has been halted by closed curtains. Only a few lights are permitted in the dorm tonight because the termites are swarming. Dozens have already made it through the wire screening, drawn by the warm glow inside. The winged insects writhe on the floor unable to fly as small cicaks (house lizards) scurry from underneath the furniture to enjoy this rare buffet. Our new daughters are cracking jokes and eating snacks as they sit at the dinner table during “study” time. And I can’t help but think once again how different my life is compared to just a few months ago.

To begin with, Salatiga is considered to be a sleepy, one-horse town compared to the larger, bustling cities in Java like Jakarta, Yogyakarta, or Semarang. Salatiga has no mall, no movie theatre, no museums or parks, and KFC is the only Western fast-food restaurant and no English is spoken there. For comparison, Amy and I came here from Richardson, Texas which is a city about 28 square miles in size and has just over 100,000 people, while Salatiga is only about 7 square miles yet has a population of over 200,000.

Because of the extreme crowdedness, Salatiga (and Java in general) is excessively noisy and polluted. Perhaps that’s one reason why Amy and I are so horribly homesick right now. Of course we desperately miss our friends and family, but we’ve come to realize just how tremendously important things like peace and quiet, comfort, and convenience had become to us. The things we once took for granted are now considered rare luxuries and we seek them out wherever we can.

Back home, it was normal for us to hang out with friends on the weekend. We took it for granted that we would be going out to eat at least twice a week. We could rely on new movies appearing in our mailbox every few days to watch at home each evening after work. Whether we were sick, out of frozen pizzas, or wanted to kill some weeds, it was easy enough to hop in the car and run over to Super Target to pick up pretty much whatever we needed. Big Macs, cherry Cokes, M&M Blizzards, chili cheese fries, and Chick-Fil-A sweet tea were all available just around the corner. What was assumed before, I ache for now.

Here in Salatiga, we have a new normal. Now, I can count on the Internet being painfully slow (when it’s working at all). I know each day will be hot and humid, power outages will be frequent, and some variation of chicken and rice will be on the menu every day. I can also be confident that my day will begin around 4:30am as the first of five calls to prayer wakes me from my sleep.

On an average week, we have our language lessons every Monday, Thursday and Friday morning. Tuesdays are reserved for dorm and teacher meetings. I teach my Graphic Design class every Monday and Thursday afternoon (next semester will be Photography) and Amy helps with the Yearbook class each Tuesday and Friday. I have also become the unofficial photographer for school pictures. In addition, we lead two devotionals for the girls each week; one on Sunday and the other on Thursday. Every weekday morning I get up at 7am to make sure the girls get off to school on time. The rest of the day runs on a rigid schedule -- lunch at noon, the girls come home at 3:00, dinner at 5:30, study time from 6:30 to 8:00, curfew at 9:00, and lights out at 10:00.

On the weekends, half of the dorm girls go home while we stay in the dorm to watch over those that remain on campus. Basically our purpose is simply “to be here.” As dorm parents, we are to be a steady constant for the girls – providers of stability. To spice up our routine a bit, Amy has volunteered on Sundays to help with the Awana Bible Club and I am training to run sound for the church. We’ve also become involved with a local group that is striving to end the problem of human trafficking which is rampant in this country, starting with Salatiga.

Unfortunately, the rigidity of the school schedule allows for little freedom or flexibility; as a result, Amy and I are having a hard time dealing with the isolation and loneliness that comes with being confined to the dorm for such long periods. We do get 6 hours off every two weeks and one weekend off every quarter, but right now we are limited in what we can do during those times by our lack of language skills and personal transportation. And while we have made some new friends, they are mostly teachers whose schedule is completely opposite from ours. They have evenings and weekends off which are precisely the times we are most restricted to the dorm, so we don’t have nearly as much contact with grown-ups as we would like.

Nevertheless, it is amazing what you can get used to when you have no other choice. It’s simply a “given” that our apartment will be overrun with ants, the water in the shower will go from scalding to ice cold at its whimsy, and lizards will poop on our walls. Conversations inevitably turn to what American comfort food we are missing the most. We know that local grocery shopping will be an excursion requiring two bus rides and lots of walking. Getting a parasite is inevitable, traffic is always insane, and if we REALLY want to see a movie or get some McDonald’s french fries – we know it will require a nearly two-hour drive to get there.

But then there are days when things just seem to work out, you learn something new that makes life easier, a package arrives from home, or you make a real connection with the girls on a heart-to-heart level. Suddenly everything is okay again. On our worst days?...well, we must be content that although we don’t always know why we’re here, we do know God. And He knows why we’re here…and I must trust in that.

P.S. If you would like to see some recent shots, you can go to http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=93095&id=1407240335&l=5261917fc9 to see them.

Welcome to Your New Planet!

Just days before we left the States, things were really bumpy. We were closing on our house, our visas had not yet been approved, and we had a lot of uncertainty about where we would store some the stuff we had left. We wanted to go see one last movie in the theater and chose Toy Story 3 -- and it really hit home with our situation. Without giving it all away, little Andy has grown up and is headed to college. The toys are trying to cope with the transition his leaving will cause for them. They worry about the possibility of being thrown out with the garbage while their highest hope is to end up stored in the attic. At one point, Rex the plastic dinosaur cries out, “I can’t stand all this uncertainty!” And I thought, “That’s me!” The anxiety and fear of how everything would turn out was mentally and emotionally taxing to say the least, but I knew that at some point we would end up on a plane to the other side of the world. What would happen then? Everything was about to change.

After 30-something hours of travel, Amy and I felt like we had just landed on another planet. Everything is different here. At first glance, life here is noisy, crowded, hot and smelly. The language is confusing, the food is odd, and the customs are strange. After the initial shock, panic, regret and the thought of, “What in the world have we done?!,” we have slowly started accepting Indonesia as home.

It’s a place where your home is constantly overrun with ants and everything feels continually damp. There is no such thing as air-conditioning and the smell of burning garbage wafts on hot, humid air through the open windows. A maddening, high-pitched shrill – like a dentist’s drill – blares relentlessly from the trees during the day (we found out it is a type of cicada). Another critter, a tokay lizard loudly calls out “Hector! Hector! Hector!” at random times during the night. It’s enough to make one want to yell back, “Hector!!! Go home already! Can’t you hear your wife calling?!” And the first call to prayer of the day sounds off from multiple locations every morning about 4:30 am.

But after having been here 5 weeks, I can see that this place can also be beautiful. Gorgeous scenery. Green rice fields. Blue hazy mountains. Waterfalls. Dutch pines mixed with palms trees. And the people are genuinely friendly and quick to return a smile. I enjoy the calls of “Hey Meester” from the children as I walk down the neighborhood streets. I love it when I nod to the elderly women in the market and greet them with “Mari Bu” (basically, “Hello Ma’am”) and they reply, “Ohhh yah” and then place their right hand over their heart in mutual respect.

It was all too easy at first to be angry with God for asking us to give up all that we loved to come here. It was easy to feel disappointed and even screwed over – to feel we deserved something better for our obedience. But then I remember Jesus’ words to his cousin John as he sat in prison, “Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.” Now I can honestly say that my heart can declare, “I am not offended by my King. I am happy to be here, for this is right where I belong. Praise God!”

Thank you so very much to everyone who has partnered with us financially and through encouragement and prayer! We could not have made it here, nor stay here, without you. You are such an important part of the impact we make here. Terima kasih banyak! (Many thanks!) Oh, if you’d like to see some images from our first month here, please go here. Hope you enjoy them.

The Art of Letting Go

In just 50 days, Amy and I depart for Southeast Asia. It seems like so little time to get all the loose ends tied up. When we first decided we were going to leave the States to take a job overseas, we knew that the hardest part would be leaving family and friends. Our relationships are easily the most important thing to us. But we genuinely thought that getting rid of our things wouldn’t be that difficult. Though we live in Dallas, arguably one of the most materialistic cities in the world, we didn’t consider ourselves materialistic people. After all, we’ve been self-employed during the worst recession since the Great Depression and have had to learn to get by on much less than we had years before. The economy forced us to change our lifestyle. No more eating at nice restaurants, no more exotic vacations, no more things for the house, no more extravagance of any kind. Buying things no longer seemed important or necessary. We learned to be content with what we had – a great lesson to learn.

But you know what else we learned? It turns out stuff has claws! The stark truth set in – we realized we would have to give up most of what we owned. All that we had worked for and accumulated over the years would have to be sold or given away. Before this, we viewed ourselves as “open-handed.” Ready to give up whatever God required for His purposes at any given moment. Instead, we found out that our fists were closed tight – we had allowed our stuff to dig its claws deep into our hearts. “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” The thought of giving it all up was painful. It was odd how some things mattered far more than others. For me, I could give up our house, our cars, and most of our furniture. But I held tight to our big red sofa. I love that sofa. It’s huge, comfy and inviting. It’s where our friends gather while we talk late into the night. It’s where my wife and I kick back after a hard day’s work to relax and watch a movie. It’s where I quarantine myself when I’m sick so I don’t disturb Amy’s sleep. It’s the place I go to sit and be quiet, to read, and to pray. That silly red sectional became a symbol of all Amy and I are giving up to follow God.

Over the past few months, we have learned the importance of letting go. And, with much prayer, it has gotten a lot easier. We will still ache for our friends and family when we leave – that can’t be helped. But we now understand how easily we allow material things in this life to choke out the intimacy of our greatest relationship – the one we have with God. The story about the rich ruler in Luke 18 truly hits home for me in a way it never did before. I understand his dilemma. Much of this difficulty comes from being immersed in American culture. Americans have a distorted view of themselves. Most see ourselves as barely getting by, when the truth is we are filthy rich in comparison to the rest of the world. Do you have air conditioning in your home? Do you drive a car? Do you go out to eat? Go to the movies? Visit Starbucks? Own an iPhone? Own a pair of shoes? Have more than one shirt to wear? Do you have access to clean water? Do you make more than $2 a day? You are rich. Don’t believe me? Go to globalrichlist.com and see for yourself.

I suppose that one of the greatest lessons in life is to learn to let go. Letting go of the desire for more stuff, bigger stuff, better stuff. Letting go of anger, bitterness, and guilt. Letting go of the idea that we deserve certain things (this is especially hard for our “entitlement” generation). Letting go of the notion that the things we have actually belong to us to do with as we please. Basically letting go of self. In Luke 9:23, Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Can you think of anything harder than that? That verse completely destroys the belief that God wants us to have easy, comfortable, safe lives – that, as a Christian, it is okay to just add a little bit of Jesus into certain areas of our lives that we’re already cozy with rather than handing over our entire life to Him. But He also gives a payoff for those who do it. Check out His promise in Matthew 19:29. As for us, we will trust in that. Anyone need a red couch?

Success in Reverse

In America, our definition of success is this: a well-paying job, big house, luxury car, money in the bank, going out to eat whenever and wherever we want, a closet full of threads from Ed Hardy, A|X, BCBG or Juicy Couture, vacations to white sand beaches, big screen TV, and an iPhone. The “American Dream” is sold on every TV show and in every magazine. We’re taught from the time we are young to want this lifestyle; it is the goal to achieve. So what does it mean NOT to achieve this definition of success? Is the opposite of this, failure? We compare ourselves to everyone in our social circle. And if we don’t stack up next to whomever, we feel unsatisfied. After all, aren’t we entitled to have what everyone else has? Somewhere down the line, we have bought into the idea that we are somehow diminished as a person if we don’t have the best clothes, the nicest car, or the biggest house. How sad that we measure our worth by designer labels, hood ornaments, and square footage.

By all accounts, my wife Amy and I were living the American Dream. We’d been happily married for 4 years, we owned and operated a successful business from our 2,500 sq. ft. home, and watched movies on our 72 inch projection system with Bose surround sound. We drove two cars, took exotic vacations, sunbathed by our pool, dined out, had a savings account, and spent time with great friends. The perfect life, right?

Yet something was missing. We weren’t unhappy, we just weren’t fulfilled. We had this nagging feeling that there should be more. Not more stuff. Not more money. Just more—life. From the outside, everything looked exactly how you’re told it should look. But on the inside, there was a vague sense of loss and emptiness. Our lives were racing by—and for what? Through authors like Timothy Keller, Francis Chan, John Piper, Gary Haugen, and Randy Alcorn*, we began to realize that the American Dream is a lie. A big con. We began to see our lives differently. We were a part of something much bigger. A greater truth was awakened—there is a difference between success and significance.

That was it! We didn’t feel our lives were significant, at least not in a make-the-world-a-better-place kind of way. We had been living our lives largely for ourselves. We’d been missing out on a grander, more meaningful life—a life dedicated to God’s work rather than our own. Sure we ran through the religious motions. We went to church each week, attended Bible studies, and even served in our church’s marriage ministry. But if we were really honest with ourselves, it was all a part of a legalistic lifestyle that served to make us feel secure and comfortable with the rest of our life. We saw our time and our money as our own. We earned it. We deserved it! But now, we wanted to make a real difference. We had learned that real significance comes from handing our lives over to God and by loving others. So we began to pray that God would open our eyes, open our hearts, and open up new opportunities for us to grow as individuals and as a couple. We promised that we would obey and submit to Him no matter what He asked. No matter what the cost, we would say “yes.”

One year later. We are fixing up our house to put on the market, we’ve given away one of our cars, and our business is for sale. It turns out God actually had a greater plan for us after all. He was just waiting for us to ask. So, in just four months, we will be moving to the island of Java in Indonesia to teach and work as dorm parents at a boarding school. We’ll be beginning a new life, with a new home, a new language, and a new goal—to live fully devoted and submitted to God. This isn’t to say it’s wrong to be successful or to have material things—we had simply been living life for ourselves, rather than for God. But if we had become certain about one thing it was this: anything not done with God’s Kingdom in mind is unimportant at best; at worst, it’s a complete waste. No wonder we’d felt that our lives were trivial and frivolous. It is God, not the world’s rat-race, who gives our lives meaning and purpose.

It turns out the opposite of success isn’t always failure, despite what it might look like to others. After all, what is success without substance? Success can be addictive and blind us to the truly important things in life. Instead of seeking happiness through getting everything we want, perhaps real happiness is found in simply learning to want less. When my wife and I finally decided to put our lives of material success in reverse, what we found was not failure, but rather a door to true success—a life of renewed significance.

*The books that made an impact us include Counterfeit Gods by Timothy Keller, Crazy Love and Forgotten God by Francis Chan, Don’t Waste Your Life by John Piper, Just Courage by Gary Haugen, and Money, Possessions & Eternity by Randy Alcorn (or for an abbreviated version, read Alcorn’s The Treasure Principle).