Looking for God? Claim to be his follower? Prove it!

God's beauty

We read the Bible together. The 6-month challenge, sent by IESJakarta, is to read the New Testament. Today we looked at John 14 (Day 78). Let me share two observations from this morning:

1. Many people, Christian and not, claim they want to know God. Do we really?

Jesus says something startling, something radical, to his disciples and to us. He claims that we see God the Father when we look at him. He is God in the flesh.

At their last meal together, before Jesus' crucifixion, "Philip (one of his inner circle) said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us." 

Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves." (John 14:8-11)

The early church affirmed their understanding of God among us. "[Jesus] is the exact representation" of God ..." (Hebrews 1:3) and "The Son is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. .... For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross." (Colossians 1:15, 19, 20)

God's creativity

So how do we get to know God? We pursue all the ways in which God has revealed himself. The spiritual disciplines are not just for our personal benefit (by becoming more patient and kind, gaining knowledge or wisdom, etc.) but tools to assist our relationship with God. We read and meditate on the scriptures, contemplate his beauty in nature, fast, and pray.

If you're not doing that, do you really care about getting to know God? or is he just a convenient fall-back when life spins out of control or you need more resources?

2. Those who believe demonstrate their faith in their actions. 

Jesus said, "Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father." (John 14:12)

Did Jesus mean only that powerful, supernatural demonstrations would prove we were his followers? Certainly, Jesus and the apostles of the early Church did miracles. And miracles still happen.

God knows each name
and cares about each story

But what did Jesus actually do? He fed the hungry, healed the sick, and set people free. He promised his help for us to do the same: "And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it." (John 14:13-14)

Jesus' miracles demonstrated God's care in practical ways, whether he was feeding 5000 hungry people, providing wine at a wedding, or healing a blind man. Let's face it: not all of our efforts are miraculous. But they similarly demonstrate God's compassion and love. We pray for and visit the sick, offer medical treatments, foster community development, fight human trafficking, and support feeding programs. Our hands and feet show God's ongoing love and the work of Christ.

James writes that "faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead," (James 2:17) and "faith without deeds is useless." (James 2:20) If we see hungry people and don't feed them or see someone who needs clothing and don't provide what we can, our claim to belief in Jesus is hollow.

What is Christ's ongoing work? From heaven, he now acts on behalf of his children to provide ongoing reconciliation with God: "There is one God and one mediator between God and mankind, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all people..." 1 Timothy 2: 5-6 He uniquely transforms us as he sends us out to continue his work in the world.

The verse on my mantle

So if my life is wrapped up in selfish pursuits, if I have become consumed by the day-to-day grind, or if I refuse to help others, am I doing what Jesus did? If not, am I truly his follower?

It's hard to write this. I don't want to condemn anyone. But these two things have ground through my mind all day. I hope the questions help you - as well as me - to consider how we are setting our goals and spending our days. A review:
1. Do I really want to know God? If so, in what ways am I getting to know Jesus better?
2. In what ways do my actions demonstrate that I believe in Jesus and am following him?

Friends, old and new

Fun getting in the picture together

Tuesday, January 13
Have I been anticipating the day with dread or joy? On the one hand, we really like having people over. On the other, we hardly know what we're doing in this new culture. I'm up part of the night thinking through logistics: we can squish about 30 people in (30-non-floor-sitters). Is everything in place? I give up on sleep and by 6am, the oven is preheating for the French toast casseroles.

Neighborhood security delivers extra seating: 12 chairs from the community center. Ibu W mentioned it would be nice to tip them though it is not expected. We tip. They normally make $6-10/day, so any bonus helps.

Improvised arrangement: a 1' tip of a yard plant
in a bowl found in the garden

About 9, the Bariton bakery motorcycle delivers 36 snack boxes. We ordered 35, but they fit into the bag better with an extra. Each contains 4 little savory or sweet treats and a water cup with a straw. I cut the warm bread, bake the egg casseroles, heat the meat, and set the table. It takes me a lot longer and more energy here. After living in the same Seattle house for 20 years, I knew where everything was. Here, I don't even know what I want half the time. When I look for a small serving bowl, I realize ... oops, I haven't purchased those yet.

Between 10 and 11am, 30 women show up with little packages wrapped in newspaper. They each take a Bariton snack box. Some of them start eating, while others put theirs aside to take home. Providing the snacks was my culture lesson from the last arisan.

Hmm. What is the newspaper thing about? "Untuk tahun baru," they say. Whatever that means. I run into the bedroom to wrap a small gift to add to the stack.

The beautiful colors of my gift scarf

Finally I figure it out. Happy New Year gift exchange! A few women write numbers on each parcel and hand out papers with numbers on them. We're supposed to get the gift corresponding to our number. I draw #13 and am given #2 gift. Somewhere the numbering system breaks down. I twirl around once or twice wearing my bright-hued scarf. It's pretty; something I would get for myself. Near the end, the organizers rush to wrap a gift for a last-minute guest. She explains why she was late but I can't understand much. Sigh. Does she live far away? Work somewhere and couldn't come earlier? I can't tell.

There's a lot of food on the table. Ibu A dropped off cut fruit and her market purchases last night. She arrived at 7am today to cook fried chicken, nasi kuning (yellow rice which is traditional for events and celebrations), and a spicy vegetable dish. It's the first "heat" she's put into our food. The other family she cooks for must hate hot food because she is shocked when we say "Kami suka makanan" (we like it).

Almost done: the women pack up amid goodbyes

My contributions are three home-baked loaves of bread that took all of yesterday to rise and bake, between making other dishes. There's French toast and sausage in gravy. Half a dozen women ask for the recipe. Oh oh. I make it differently each time. This time the Bockwurst was so salty that I added creamed soup, sweet barbecue sauce, and a can of creamed corn to balance the flavors. Of course there were trays of home-baked cookies, too.

Ibu A has cooked a feast. We have leftovers until the women see the plastic food bags on the table. They ask if it's okay to take food home. Of course. That's the custom here. Some take more, some hardly any, but bit by bit the table empties. There's a lot of fruit left over so I freeze some and make a smoothie for Ibu A and me.

The arisan treasurer hands me an envelope of food money. I sign that I've received it and have counted it. The president of the group writes the next month's address in my guest book and many of the women sign their names.

Lunch at Miss Bee's Providor

After the women leave, I snag a plate of food for each of us. W and I haven't eaten. I ask the helper to fill a few bags for herself and her family. We used paper plates and real cutlery and serving dishes, so the helper finishes washing up. She mops the living room floors before hoisting herself and the food bags onto the back of her husband's motorcycle.

In the evening, we met three Seattle leaders who are looking for service projects for their groups. One is an Indonesian expat who knows young professionals in Bandung. We eat a delicious Sundanese meal together with them and four outstanding young people.

Pak Herry demonstrates squatting, Indonesian-style.
Can you do it? Keep your heels on the floor!

Wednesday
In the morning, we meet up again with the three travelers. They've brought a few goodies along that had been delivered to our house in Seattle after Christmas: silicone measuring cups, a mixing bowl grip, and a few tech items for W. Very exciting. (Really.) And very useful.

We have fun together, too. Pak Herry lays down a mean beat that is the traditional rhythm for folk music. He shows the guys how Indonesians can sit on their heels by the hour. Since arriving in Indonesia and walking so much, W can do it, too.

We have lunch at Miss Bee's nearby. The guys walk the neighborhood to pray blessings over people living here. Then we talk about projects by work teams or interns that could benefit the city. By the time they leave in the evening, we feel encouraged about possibilities for partnering together.

After I format and send our "New Normal" photo, it's 11 pm. Time for bed.

Thursday
I'm up at 3:30, preparing for a 4am conference call with leaders of a women's caucus. Most of them teach or do research in the USA, but a few are in England and elsewhere.

I stay up until Ibu A comes at 8am to clean. "Please do the walls, floors, and surfaces very well. We have to clean up after all the holiday company." I think that's what I communicate.

By 8:30, I'm ready for bed. I sleep until 11:30. We stay in until supper, go for a short walk and end up at Miss Bee's again.

The server asks if I'm Ibu Rosemarie. Eek. How does he know my name? Ah, apparently one of the young men at a pre-Christmas get-together had invited him to our place. The server was working but he promises he'll come along next time if he's free. We talk a bit and then W and I walk home, bemused by the networks all around us.

Graves are oriented with the faces toward Mecca

Friday
We plan to attend a concert at the seminary in the morning, but as we're ready to leave, I check the venue with a friend. Oh oh, the concert is another place on another day. So we are dressed and ready to go ... with the morning ahead of us. W is researching alarm systems for the neighborhood council and I've wanted to go to the local bookstore for months.

We walk down the hill, saying hi to the regulars who sit and stand at the sides of the lanes. The paths are so narrow that we have to move aside when motorcycles drive by. Many are not wide enough for cars, through the houses on each side can be big and elegant.

Reading Lights bookstore and coffee shop

Last time we came this way, a frail-looking old man walked through the cemetery path ahead of us. He easily negotiated the uneven steps cut into the muddy hillside, slippery in rainy season. Occasionally bricks or stones are placed as treads. Usually the path is chopped into the slope at whatever pitch is needed: some risers are 24" deep while others are 4-6". We always watch our feet. (We marveled and wondered how many North Americans his age could use the path.)

W leaves me at the bookstore for a few hours. Helen the owner and her assistant sign me up for their insider discount. Oh yes, I'll be back. I find a new novelist and time flies. I like an original painting "Orb" that glitters on the wall ($12). I'm fascinated with the creativity of people, whether in words, sounds, or art, aren't you?

Textured acrylic landscape

A $2 cutlet

W orders lunch at the student food court on our way home, a $2 chicken cutlet. We detour a few times walking back up the long steep hill toward home. Between every few houses, a narrow lane leads to still more homes. We discover a new way across the valley to Dago, the next hill. Maybe next time.

We're asked to contribute to an article for a local paper. The back and forth between text and pictures takes a while. We'll see what they use.

Read more:
*Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting. Psalm 139:23-24 NIV

*Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!

Who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? Who has ever given to God, that God should repay them? For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen. Romans 11:33-36 NIV

*If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. 1 John 4:20-21 ESV

C. S. Lewis in The Problem of Pain:

   If the world exists not chiefly that we may love God but that God may love us, yet that very fact, on a deeper level, is so for our sakes. If He who in Himself can lack nothing chooses to need us, it is because we need to be needed. Before and behind all the relations of God to man, as we now learn them from Christianity, yawns the abyss of a Divine act of pure giving—the election of man, from nonentity, to be the beloved of God, and therefore (in some sense) the needed and desired of God, who but for that act needs and desires nothing, since He eternally has, and is, all goodness. And that act is for our sakes.

   It is good for us to know love; and best for us to know the love of the best object, God. But to know it as a love in which we were primarily the wooers and God the wooed, in which we sought and He was found, in which His conformity to our needs, not ours to His, came first, would be to know it in a form false to the very nature of things. For we are only  creatures: our role must always be that of patient to agent, female to male, mirror to light, echo to voice. Our highest activity must be response, not initiative. To experience the love of God in a true, and not an illusory form, is therefore to experience it as our surrender to His demand, our conformity to His desire: to experience it in the opposite way is, as it were, a solecism against the grammar of being.

Walks and plans

One reason sidewalks are in poor condition:
motorcyclists use them to get around traffic jams

The new week is starting. We have a big lunch planned Tuesday and American friends will be coming that evening. Tonight, the sun's going down on as the evening prayers ring across the neighborhood. The air is cool at 72o: it will get down to 66o tonight. Brrr.

Wednesday, January 7

The morning session in Jakarta is the final one of the conference. What a great group of coworkers! Four of us "new-to-Indonesia" gals set up a trial accountability group. We'll log in online every few weeks to check that we're on track and pray for each other. We make only a short-term commitment: after 2-3 sessions, we'll evaluate. If it's helpful, we'll keep going.

W and I drive home to Bandung after a quick lunch. It takes only 3 hours for the 80 miles because traffic is quite light. It's wonderful to see the house again. I spray the ant invasion into a twitching death and sleep like a log.

At least, I sleep until almost midnight, when my alarm wakes me for a conference call from Seattle about coaching. Our master coach offers encouragement and reminds us how important a coach can be to people entering a new profession. After we hang up, I can't get back to sleep until 4:30am. 

A grasshopper takes a break on our palm tree

Thursday

Ibu A comes at 8. I have a headache and am tired, but one of the things we heard at the conference was appropriately relating to helpers. So I get up and give her instructions and money to buy food at the market. (W and I usually do the shopping). When she returns, she notes the purchases in a new notebook, set aside for the purpose. She is a marvelous cook: lunch is chicken, baked potato, bok choy, and - of course, rice.

A friend picks us up in the evening. We're going to the hospital to pray for Ibu V, who has cancer. She's been treated in China and is home again in Bandung. Her daughter and our friend have known each other since they studied in Holland years ago.

Pasar: baskets overhead

Such visits bring back many memories of how friends surrounded us when our daughter K was ill. We appreciated every visit, prayer, and note. Now we can do the same for others.

Afterwards, we go to a gathering of hawker stalls. The server brings a menu for all the shops. I had leftover soup at home just before we left so the surroundings interest me more than the food. Dozens of baskets hang overhead. ("Don't they get dusty? And who lives up there?" Be quiet, my inner German housewife!)

A typical poinsettia tree in the neighborhood

Saturday

We stay home. I bake 3 loaves of homemade bread. One is for Ibu A's family: the other two are for us - one is supper and the other? How about tomorrow?

Let's hope the instructions to Ibu A are clear. 30 women (potentially) are coming for brunch Tuesday. I've asked Ibu A to go to the market on her husband's ojek (motorcycle) and bring the groceries back. She'll cook yellow rice (a tradition for special occasions), chicken, veges, and cut fruit. We have to start an hour earlier than usual to get everything ready. No cleaning until the ladies leave. Did she get that? 

We'll see. As usual, before an occasion, my head is whirling with details so my body is lazing around. Focus is worse when I'm going across culture and between Google Translate, Bahasa Indonesia, and English.

We miss baby Kamille, who is in Seattle with her parents. They're celebrating her first birthday far from her Indonesia family.

On our Sunday walk, the one-lane road is peaceful...

until it fills up with passing cars and motorcycles...

from this new housing neighborhood. Urban planning, anyone?

Sunday

The homemade bread makes a good breakfast. We attend church nearby and meet the nicest mom and daughter in the parking lot. They've lived in Vancouver and the daughter recently completed community college in LA. She's home for a semester, waiting for her business program to start in fall. "If that falls through, we know a great business program in Seattle at Northwest University," we say.

The cutest youngster sits next to us on the bus

We change clothing quickly and walk a few miles down the hills and back up. We have a few things to pick up for the lunch we are making Tuesday. And our cable has been blocked for half a month. W finally finds someone in the mall shop who promises to connect it. (Later in the evening we discover that it's connected but we have the wrong subscription. We're not interested in a lot of cooking channels and Bollywood dramas, ok? W will try again. Fourth time lucky? And I don't suppose there's a refund or extension for 3 weeks without service, is there?)

We take an angkot minivan to the hospital to see Ibu V again. She's thinner, having trouble eating. But it's lovely to share scriptures and prayer. Her daughter faithfully is caring for her.

It's a single angkot ride back. W heads down for groceries for tomorrow's baking. He picks up supper at the warung on the next block (noodles for me; rice for him) and we eat about 7pm. 

Temperatures are dropping. So is lizard poop. Right on W's white duvet cover. ugh. He sponges it clean and sighs, "Laundry tomorrow. For sure." Yup.

Read more:

*Ascribe to the Lord the glory of his name; worship the Lord in holy splendor. Psalm 29:2 ESV

*Help, O Lord, for there is no longer anyone who is godly; the faithful have disappeared from humankind. Psalm 12:1 ESV

*Jesus asked the twelve, “Do you also wish to go away?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” John 6:67–68 ESV

Moravian Prayer: Master and Friend, we promise never to turn our backs on you. We believe you are everything we need. Keep us loyal to you in everything we do. Amen.

"Up, up with people" (anyone remember that song?)

Avery celebrates her 23rd birthday

Tonight our hearts are overflowing. We've spent two of three days with expats who serve in Indonesia. We're all doing unique work. Most of us are new to the country, first learning the language and culture.

Monday, January 5
We've been looking forward to this day for over a month. The director and his wife have flown in from the Philippines. The Indonesian committee is meeting to help us new arrivals acclimate to Indonesia. We have dinner at Applebees, newly opened in a mall in Jakarta. It's a bit surreal to eat American-style food; we seldom have burgers or Caesar salad here.

We are a very noisy bunch. We celebrate coworker Avery's 23rd birthday. The restaurant staff sings an enthusiastic and off-key ditty and we all cheer.

Getting ready to eat together

The entire back section is filled with new friends from oldest to youngest. The children are very good: they run and play together between eating. In Indonesia, the nanny follows the children around to feed them. Locals don't seem to understand that a child can be corralled in a chair and fed in one location. The Americans capture their kids, feed them, and then let them play.

Jakarta feels less traditional than Bandung. There are a lot more expats. People's clothing is more Western, their attitudes more modern, and their speech and manners are more abrupt. It's easy to see why these urbanites consider Bandung a small town rather than a big city (though it has over 7 million people). In some ways, Bandung feels like a collection of villages. People are connected to each other and look out for their friends and neighbors. We miss Bandung the minute we leave it: we've fallen in love with the people and the city.

A kind mentor and friend

Tuesday
I'm awake at 4am, thinking through the brunch planned for 30+ women at our house next Tuesday. Chairs - do we have enough? (Nope! During the day I text Dr W who arranges for security guards to pick up extra seating from the community center. She sends us their phone numbers so we can call them on the day.) What will I cook? I organize a mental list of foods that can be prepared by 9am. Will the older ladies need help negotiating our steps? Maybe W can help them get up and down to the front door. Etc.

My phone battery is almost dead so I can't listen to the scriptures which often comfort me as I begin to rest. I stuff earplugs in my ears instead and fall back asleep for another hour.

The hotel cafeteria serves a good breakfast. W loads up while I choose a little rice porridge and half an omelet. I'm still full from the American-sized portion last night. Katie joins us with a cup of coffee. One of the delights of being here is seeing the passion and tender hearts of the young interns. They're quicker to pick up language, careful observers, and enthusiastic about ministry and community development.

Asian lights

Some of today's speakers have lived in Indonesia for a decade or more. They provide insights into power distance (who's boss and underling), making donations (carefully, through local organizations), and how to train, teach, and engage with respect. An Indonesian leader reminds us that we are not here to make up our own agenda. For maximum benefit to locals, we must respect and partner with existing charities and projects.

For lunch, we go downstairs to Pesto, an Italian restaurant. My half-plate of salad with a few pear slices and a taste of Gigi's pizza takes me through the afternoon. (Boosted by a few cups of tea in my Contigo thermos, of course.) We break into groups late in the afternoon, sharing what we've found surprising about living here. It's reassuring to hear that others sometimes feel as unbalanced and topsy-turvey in their "new normal" as we do. The veterans remember their first year being the same. We are cautioned to focus on our strengths, not to compare ourselves to others, and to seek God's guidance as we settle down.

Supper in a Thai restaurant provides the backdrop for conversation that is warm and friendly, loud and cheerful. Afterwards, we hug a few people goodbye (early returns home) and say "see you tomorrow" to others.

Genius food warmer, fueled by 2 tealights

W and I are looking for a Brabantia food warmer like the one W found at Christmas. Though we're becoming accustomed to cold food, we prefer to serve heated food hot! And we have lots of guests. We head into the mall, find the warmer, and arrive in our room just before 10pm.

Our income record shows up in our email today. Donations sometimes take a few weeks to be recorded so we don't always know right away when a gift is sent. How grateful we are for the year-end giving entrusted to us. We couldn't be here without generous and faithful partners! W and I thank God at the end of the day. He is Good.

The day has flown by. We've learned a lot and spent hours among fine people with big hearts. A success, I'd say. W's asleep already and another long day lies ahead. Time for bed.

Read more:
*Out of my distress I called on the Lord; the Lord answered me and set me in a broad place. Psalm 118:5 ESV

*O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I'm far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! Psalm 139:1-6 NLT

*Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. Matthew 6:12 NKJV

*In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace. Ephesians 1:7 ESV

*You are God’s own people in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 1 Peter 2:9 ESV

Moravian Prayer: Light of the world, thank you for responding to us in our time of need. We declare ourselves to your holy way. Help us respond to others and proclaim your amazing grace.

Heavenly Father, you who are unseen are able to see all. Forgive us for forgetting that you know what we need before we can even ask. Keep our hearts open to sharing your forgiveness with the world. Thank you, Lord. Amen.

Neighborhood council meeting

The neighbor's porch. Hard to believe it's January

As of January 3, we've been here 6 months. Friends who live overseas told us to expect the unexpected. That things would not be like we imagined or maybe hoped. That we might achieve more or less than planned. They said learning a new language was a difficult challenge but worthwhile. And they were right.

Friday, January 2
We walk down to town. It's downhill all the way so it doesn't seem far. Then we walk some more. By the time we get home, we've done about 6 miles (10 km). And the cable TV shop closed before we got there. (Our TV doesn't work; we get a "disconnect" signal. It's hard to hear enough language without it. But W will try again tomorrow.) My feet are tired when the taxi picks us up far from home drops us at the house. The fare is $4.

Potholes can be serious obstacles

Saturday, January 3
W and I walk around the corner with Dr W at 9:20am,  headed to the Community Center for a meeting of the neighborhood council. We are the first to arrive so we go next door first. The lady who lives there cooks beef "floss" = meat fried, dried, and pulled into fluffy bits that are sprinkled on rice, baking, or soups to add flavor. We'll order some when we get back next week. The cook sells through a well-known bakery for twice the price. Better to buy as a neighbor!

About 60 families live in the neighborhood. The main business of the day is affirming a permit to remove and replace a house: a non-local family has purchased the old place and wants to tear it down. "It normally takes a year or two to build," they tell us. Their son is an architectural graduate who is helping his parents as they plan. They show their intentions to the council.

W has to leave: he has to try again to get the company to hook up our TV. I stay to find out how the neighborhood is run and learn a few things:

A mini-pickup truck = motorcycle conversion

• The community leaders are esteemed and educated people. They are polite and respectful to each other. Most were scientists (or spouses of scientists) who worked at LIPI, a scientific research institute established  in 1967 by the government to oversee national scientific progress. When the Bandung facility closed, the government allowed the researchers to purchase land or their rental homes near the institute. (We officially have a neighborhood section number. However,  the sign at the entry uses the old name so that's the easiest way to self-identify.)
• The community center is used for prayers. The man who used to call prayers passed away this fall so prayers are held once or twice a week instead of daily. On one side long runners underlay prayer rugs. 
• Dr W introduces me to Ibu S, who teaches Arabic at the center. She also schedules rentals. Functions must be cleared by the committee, but the center rents @ Rp500.000 (about $45) for neighbors and double that amount for outsiders. The chairman encourages me to rent the building for next week's Ciumbuleuit women's gathering if my house is not big enough. (We may have 30-35, for which we will order take-away boxes from the local bakery, as well as providing food. What oh what shall Ibu A and I cook for so many?!)
• Women are encouraged to join and attend bimonthly LIPI meetings. I was at my first meeting last month at Ibu Wigar's. Ibu Wiwi has just been voted as head of the women's gatherings; we sit next to each other after Waldemar leaves.
• Security guards get minimal pay but can be subsidized by private contributions. We may consider a donation now and again.
• Before the meeting is over, one of the very respected members asks what we're doing here. Our immediate task is learning the language. We are professors so we will be teaching as well. I tell them that we have always had company, so they can expect people to come and go from our house. Our guests will be respectful and pleasant but if there are any problems, would the council please feel free to let us know? If we are inadvertently impolite, will they please correct our manners?
• We each get a lunch box packed with a bottled water and 5 foods, savory and sweet. Oh my. Yum. I taste a few things and take the rest home.

Heron batik

Dr W and I walk home about 11:30 when prayers begin. I'm working in my office when I start to feel peckish. It's after 1, the usual time for lunch. I haven't heard Ibu A cooking so I go down to see what's happening.

She's ironing. I leave her to her work and make soup. After checking out the fridge, I gather the leftovers: sausage in gravy, shredded chicken and mushrooms, eggplant, peppers. We leave tomorrow; I have to use the food up. I boil up a broth, seasoning water with a Maggi beef cube. I toss everything in to blend and heat. In another pot, I cook two rounds of noodles. Then I call Ibu A to join me. "Aren't you hungry?" I ask her.

She gets the giggles when she comes into the kitchen. "What? You are cooking?" She is aghast but between us we communicate that she thought I had already eaten (acc. to W's brief chat before he left) so she made lunch for one: herself. She tries the soup, which is flavorful and spicy. I have two helpings before the noodles run out. Then it's back to work. 

Ibu A washes the dishes and dashes out the door after 3, leaving a clean counter, a pile of ironed laundry and sheets, and washed floors. The marble tiles are still gritty in places so I keep my indoor flip-flops on, as usual.

Ikat fabric: one of a kind

Ibu W calls to let me know that Adeline, the batik artist and community development director, has dropped off the fabrics we were considering Thursday. Would I like to come get them? The invoice is in the bag. I pull out bills from my pocket and pay for the two lengths I want to keep: a lavender and peach ikat that I shall use for a skirt and a 3-tone brown and grey heron pattern. I haven't decided whether it will be for decor or another shirt for W.

W comes back with the errand undone. Yesterday, the staff sitting on the steps after closing said the shop was open 9-2 each Saturday. They neglected to mention that this Saturday was some kind of store holiday. Sigh. He brings in the canary from the porch, who fluffs up his feathers and gets ready to sleep.

We relax in the evening. And we pray over the neighbors, the community leaders, the friends we've met. Over the churches and pastors who will meet tomorrow. Over the house and our surroundings.  Then we fall asleep until morning.

Sunday, January 4
We read the scriptures and pray. There's so much to talk to God about. We are grateful for safety. For a house to sleep, cook, and be hospitable in. This year stretches ahead, unknown and untested. We move forward day by day, asking God for guidance and insight, for connections and favor.

Mobile kitchen: fridge on wheels

We drive to Jakarta in the afternoon. We have an Indonesian Orientation course Monday through Wednesday. The drive takes 2 1/2 hours. That's excellent, one of our fastest trips. Apparently Jakartans have not yet left Bandung after their shopping weekend.

I'm tired after W weaves through traffic. Avery's gone to enjoy karaoke with friends so the flat is quiet when we arrive. While I blog, I absorb the TV reports of Indonesia's recovery efforts after the AirAsia crash on Dec. 28.

The word for sacrifice, scapegoat, and victim is the same in Indonesian:  korban. Our hearts are heavy when we think of the families who waved goodbye to loved ones at the airport ... and will not see them again. We are especially sorrowful for a church in Surabaya who lost over 40 members. The news shows families mourning those they miss.
In the evening, W walks to a neighborhood vegan restaurant for pseudo-burgers. They're cold and kind of hard by the time I pull the "veet" out of the bread and microwave it.

For us, life continues as before. For those who have lost loved ones this Christmas, time stands still as they learn to cope. I look forward to the place without sadness or sorrow, to the time when God wipes the tears from our eyes. Blessings and peace on you in the New Year.

15 years after the millennium scare...

15 years ago, media hype predicted the end of the world. Computers would fail. Data would be lost. Catastrophic electronic shutdowns might signal the start of WWIII or life in the dark. Yet here we are in 2015.

Dr H's house filled with laughter and friendship

One of the most reassuring passages in scripture says that Jesus sustains the universe, down to the last detail. That means we don't fear "end of the world" scenarios. It won't be over until God says so. He is in control, powerful enough to tame nature to his will:

For by Him all things were created, both in the heavens and on earth, 

visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities-- 

all things have been created through Him and for Him.

[Jesus] is before all things, and in Him all things hold together. (Colossians 1:16-17)

We've had a busy ending of the last year and a very sweet beginning of the new. God is holding all things together so our hearts are at peace.

Sunday, December 28
We get word of Air Asia's lost flight as we are on our way to church. All the breath goes out of us in shock.

We read the list of passenger and crew names on our phones. We're walking to an Indian restaurant with 4 Indian friends. Surely families haven't been notified yet. All week, we and our friends will listen to updates. Pray for families. Ask God that people turn toward him for comfort rather than away in blaming and despair. We hear that 40 passengers were Christians on a service trip. Oh Lord.

The groaning brunch table at Dr H's

Monday, December 29
W and I walk to Dr H's house nearby, where her friends have gathered for a post-Christmas brunch. Dr H is hospitable. The variety and selection of dishes keeps growing as guests arrive. Soon the table is full. We begin with casseroles, Vietnamese spring rolls, and Indonesian dishes and end with desserts, including vanilla and coffee-raisin ice cream. 

While W and Dr H's husband talk in the courtyard, about 15 or 20 women visit in the living room. They are teachers, professors, businesswomen, and artists. Some women have active careers and some are retired. I finally get to put faces with names, including the owner of the bookstore-gallery where we found artwork last month. It's inspiring to listen to the history of friendships between the ladies. Some have lived in Indonesia for 40 or 60 years and most are fluent in Bahasa Indonesia.

We meet Dr H's children again, having first shaken hands at the Baptist church yesterday. What an interesting morning. What a nice family.

Delicate beauty

Tuesday, December 30
When the sun comes up at 6, life is already buzzing around Bandung. People head to work, the neighbors' roosters crow, the cats yowl, and the motorcycles rev up. We rarely sleep in. This morning I cook hot muesli for breakfast. Our helper arrives promptly at 8.

About 9:30, Dr H comes by with her sister and a friend. Traffic congestion is no hindrance to Ibu I, who seems unfazed as she negotiates her car through the narrow roads to Dago. Ibu I loves orchids and offers to show us her collection. She is becoming an expert grower. Her three corgis protest our arrival but she shoos the jumpers outside to the courtyard where they trot back and forth. The youngest is blind but runs around the yard and digs in the flower beds like any other corgi would.

Dozens of orchids shelter under shade-cloth or hug bark strips that dangle from metal gridwork. Stunning spikes give us an inkling of the variety Ibu I collects. Some orchids need daily care; others are less needy. All are beautiful in bloom. Her gardening books are marked with acquisitions. My green thumb itches! and my eyes can hardly believe the details of the flowers.

In a corner of Eden

The Dago golf course is near the house, stretching up a steep valley and straddling the ridges of two hills. Only the greens are level. What a workout! Golfers seem focused and hard at work as we drive the upper perimeter of the course. Ibu I points out homes her architect husband is renovating and noteworthy homes.

Before noon we arrive at Ibu R's house at the top of the Dago ridge. It is a miniature Garden of Eden. full of palms, vines, gardenias, roses, fruit trees, and herbs like lemon grass, a basil hedge, and thyme plants overflowing their pots. And she's a fellow orchid-lover. I get tired of hearing myself exclaim over the specimens thriving in the cooler breezes. I can't help it: with tall trees shading the garden overhead, it's the perfect microclimate ... with a devoted gardener in attendance.

A 3-foot spray of orchid beauties

The ladies speak Dutch, Bahasa, and English. It's a good chance to listen to conversation: often people want to try their English on us. It reminds me of when our families get together with a similar mix of English and German. Ibu R prepares soup with squid, fish balls, spinach, peas, and bean sprouts in chicken broth. Delicious - so we all have a second helping.  I still feel full from yesterday's feast at Dr H's. Another friend, Ibu H, arrives as we're almost finished. She's allergic to squid so has to skip the soup, but she eats sticky rice smoked in bamboo and dessert with us.

About 2:30pm, we head home. Elvis croons on the radio and the ladies sing along. The three women, all with similar names starting with H, come in briefly when they drop me off: they want to see the 5' Good News wreath in our living room and they admire the batik hanging from Dr H. 

Meanwhile, W heads to town and finds that artificial Christmas trees are now 70% off. He texts pictures of the limited selection. We agree on a pre-lit one, which he brings home. He sets it up in the stairwell above the living room, a pretty backlight for the movie night coming up.

An inviting entry

Dr W from across the street comes by to ask if I want to walk over to Ibu W's house; apparently she is outside gardening so perhaps we can view her place. We need to move, her house is nearby, and it will soon be vacated. I really want Waldemar along (oh so many Ws and H's today!) but he's not back from town. 

We sit down on Ibu W's back porch. She and her husband move during the next few weeks so she prefers not to show the house. I ask a few questions about its condition, the furniture that would remain (unknown at this point), and any problems we should be aware of. There are little termite droppings under a rattan sofa: Ibu W says they spray at the first sign of termites in the structure, at which the bugs "disappear." Hmmmm. They have ants in the kitchen (as do we) and fruit bats compete for the harvest of their many trees. 

She's planning to take at least half her potted plants with her (a good thing) and utilities are about double what we pay now. Lots of details will have to be worked out before we'd shift. We can come again in mid-January once they've moved most of their things out. At that point we may also take pictures. I put my camera-phone away.

Ibu Ada models how to
wear a sarong and scarf

Wednesday - New Year's Eve
Dr W comes by before 9 to walk us to her friend, who is named Adeline (like my mom's). Ibu Ada's specialty is community development. She has built up a thriving factory that executes her batik designs and provides income to villagers. Her dyes are mostly organic and plant-based and her patterns are unique.

Dr W explains: "Suits are too hot for our climate, so batik takes the place for formal occasions." Waldemar finds a great piece of fabric for a formal shirt.

I find a few fabrics which Ada promises to hold for a few days and take home a lovely silk sarong and scarf.

We tidy up a bit when we get home before jumping in the car and heading to Yogya grocer. We don't know how many guests to expect but have several cancellations during the afternoon. After loading up, we stop for a quick soup at Kolony food court. Then it's time to cook. By the time I've got 4 breads rising (2 for pizza dough), sausages cooked in gravy, and cookies set out, it's mid-afternoon. Time for a nap soon? I'm getting tired.

Except, "Yahoo. Ist Waldemar in? Ist Waldemar itu?" the voice persists at the gate. W opens the door and ushers in Mrs. B. This Swiss-German expat has lived in Indonesia for 40 years. She trained as a landscape artist and horticulturist in Berlin when she was young. Recently widowed, she's moved into a friend's house nearby. We have tea and cookies together but I get up after 5 to resume cooking. She waves goodbye around 5:30 and I dive into our room for a brief snooze.

Holiday greetings from the kids

By 7, we're up and finishing preparations for guests who arrive about 8:30. We're a small group - 6 of us. The movie is A Walk in the Clouds, accompanied by popcorn and ginger tea (Dr W's contribution). Intermission gives us time to munch on pizza and talk.

And afterwards, what a sweet time. As midnight rolls around, we choose verses I've printed on cardstock tags and read them aloud. Each of us chooses a significant promise and blessing. We feel deeply touched, reflecting on what we wish we could have done better and what we accomplished in 2014. 

Firecrackers explode across the hillside as we share our hopes for the New Year. It's so noisy! We pray around the circle to request God's favor and help in 2015. Finally, Waldemar speaks a blessing over us:

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and keep you; 

the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;

the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24-26)

Crepes in process

What a special beginning to the year. Sumathi and Augustine help clean up. Most of the dishes are done as we fall exhausted into our beds in the wee hours of the morning.

Thursday: Happy New Years everyone!
Sumathi and Augustine have slept over. By 10:30, we're drinking coffee and tea and eating crepes. W and I bought lingonberry preserves at IKEA and have been saving it for a special occasion. This would be it! With whipped cream, the crepes and apple pastries Sumathi found are a treat. Fresh fruit and home-baked bread from last night completes the meal.

Farewell to the Christmas season,
before the decorations come down

I walk our friends to the angkot and wave goodbye. Then it's back home to pack up Christmas trees and decorations. We pull the festive tablecloth from under the protective glass of the dining table and toss it in the wash. The lace comes off the nails sticking out of the living room walls for laundering, too.

While the washing machine swishes the dust and dirt away, W and I watch Eat, Pray, Love. We've heard so many positive things about it. But we are mystified about why people think it's a great movie. The scenery is pretty, the food looks interesting, and we like to travel. But what a confused and conflicted theme. A woman leaves two lovers behind and ends up in a relationship with a stranger in Bali? Hardly a good role model for viewers. Jesus said life was more than food and clothing. The self-centered and self-destructive quest for "god as me" should send shock waves through anyone calling themselves a follower of God.

W and I tug the metallic threads straight in the damp table cloth. I hang it to dry, along with  the bedding and lace, pulling the drying rack into the kitchen which has better air flow. By 10, we're in bed and before midnight, the blog is written.

Our love and wishes for a great year to you and yours.