Celebrating "There's nothing like family" -- birth relatives and beyond

Tuesday, March 24, 2024 - Happy birthday, Jonathan!

We're cheering our son on his birthday, as he celebrates with friends in a cabin up north. Brrr. Sounds cold. W and I pray for him together. 

We walk 2 loops with the dogs, who are well-behaved this morning. They get dog-popsicles when we get back = broth frozen around little pieces of baked yams and kibble. Those take a while to eat, though the tropical heat melts them quickly. It's enough of an effort that the dogs rest rather than running wild around the yard.

We've had sunshine most days last week so the flowers are out.

On a tall shrub by the Padma Hotel, pinecone-sized bulbs are erupting into bloom, a few ruffly petals opening each day.

For breakfast, I was going to scramble some eggs. Seeing the eggs on the counter, I decide on crepes. I reach for flour and other ingredients that are close at hand, totally skipping the melted butter. No worries - there's still the butter/oil combo in the fridge to grease the pan, from making crepes last week. With a few small saucepans on the stove burners, it's a quick process. 

We sit on the porch. They taste good rolled up with various stuffings, savory or sweet.

The rendang (spicy coconut beef - vegan style) pairs especially well with the egg-y pancakes.

The dictionary article gets a final edit and goes off! at last. The music is loud outside today; there's a celebration at the assistant governor's place. While they party, we keep working on the Project. W is assembling beds - and I have to decide where they go in the room. A trusty paper grid clarifies the fit. The little piece is the ladder of the IKEA Tuffinge loft bed we picked up last year from an exiting expat. We'll put a desk, chairs, and lamp under it.

We're settle back on the Porch, the wind kicking up and rustling the leaves of the + 60'/20-meter trees in the backyard. After a lunch of hot cross buns and sausage, I munch on kale chips. It was my first attempt at making them in the air fryer - easy and tasty for when I crave salt. I made 7 chocolate-and-sweet potato mousse servings the other day, so we have half of one as well.

Today gives us a taste of what is to come since there's no team meeting. We moved the final team dinner to another day. Suddenly, we have an extra afternoon to work on the checklist. I'm mostly ready for the weekend and the coming week. What is relaxing for me? I set aside some novels and a few non-fiction books for our break.

After lunch the grid turns to reality.

We hang pictures (more art!) and put tables and chairs out on the balcony. The 24"/60cm treefrog photos look cheery and fun with nature art between the triptych. (Directly beside each other, the red bug-eyes felt menacing rather than humorous.) The busy wallpaper helps blend them in, too.

The chairs get tucked under the tables to minimize rain and sun damage. The tables are IKEA wood with a 24"/60cm floor tile on top. One task at a time, the Project is getting done.

Wednesday
It's a big undertaking to host a big group. Because many young people are away from their families, we create space for them to hang out with friends, family-style: it's many people from everywhere. A few live in the city - the others study or work here, far from home. W and I start the day with a walk, enjoying the blooms emerging at the end of rainy season. 

W puts up some hangers that have sat under the steps for 3 months. (Our daughter suggests coloring the squares to make it less boring.) We set out chairs and tables, make sure the buffet supplies are ready, and relax for a few hours.

Today, Della cooks for the Games Night. Everyone loves her food. I set out banana bread and cookies. A few people bring snacks to share.

Our movie tech is not yet ready, but about 50 people start arriving at 5pm. We eat and hang out.

Most games were left behind by previous guests.

There are board games, puzzle games, and card games.

I get a Chinese calligraphy lesson from Mikey. "Top to bottom, left to right," he instructs, holding the wet brush tip down.

There's room at the Project, outside on the porches and inside in the dining and living areas. Groups form and reform.

Near the end, Della does most of the cleanup. The guests take home a bunch of DVDs from a boxful. "Take more," we beg them, but they leave us a dozen.

I finish the dishes but the dish sanitizer is not heating. I stack cups and trays and dry a bunch of bowls by hand.

Thursday
After a walk, W takes the dish-dryer apart. He pulls 4 cicaks (lizards) from the heating element and suddenly it works again. He puts them on the side porch - I want to take them along to let the grandkids admire them. Nope - the dogs have eaten them by the time I finish cleaning.

Our team lunch offers time to share what we have seen and appreciated about each member. Della orders fish soup and spots a green worm on her fresh parsley. It falls to bottom of the bowl before she captures it. She fishes around with a spoon and chopsticks but can't find it. She checks every spoonful as she lifts it to her mouth, to make she's not eating the caterpillar. Whaaaat?! (We would send it back but she assures us that most Indonesians will just put it aside.)

After dessert (banana bread, chocolate mousse, and Keelee's birthday cookies), we go around the circle to speak aloud what we have learned. I write down the comments for each person: in the heat of the moment, it is easy to forget or overlook what someone cherishes about you. I'll send the affirmations from the group to each person.

These leaders have grown in every way - spiritually, theologically, mentally, in leadership, and as a family of brothers and sisters.

Hanny is sister to everyone. After Herbert eats a hot pepper, she leans over and scrapes away all the pepper from his plate. "Just eat the meat," she tells him. Makes me laugh.

We pray together at the end. Finally, we take a team photo before we wave goodbye. W and I walk up the hill to home while the others wait for their rides.

One more walk with Juno and Anton, before we call it a day. This bush has several colors of blooms. So pretty.

Read more:

* “Now fear the Lord and serve him with all faithfulness. Throw away the gods your ancestors worshiped beyond the Euphrates River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. But if serving the Lord seems undesirable to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served beyond the Euphrates, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua 24:14-14

* You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. Psalm 40:5

* And [the lame man] stood up and immediately took the mat and went out before all of them, so that they were all amazed and glorified God, saying, “We have never seen anything like this!” Mark 2:12

Moravian Prayer: Loving Savior, when doubts arise, remind us of your mighty works and unfailing promises. Like John the Baptist, we seek assurance in times of uncertainty— help us to trust that you are the one who brings healing, restoration, and salvation. Open our hearts to recognize your presence and follow your ways. May we live as messengers of your truth, preparing the way for others to know you. Amen.

A few days on the messy side

Saturday, March 21, 2024

We have major leaf drops during dry seasons. It looks like autumn but feels like summer. Perfect.

Sometimes we can't believe we are sitting outside in March, eating in the shade of a tree (because otherwise it's too warm.) We cross the street to #Nanny's Pavilon.

I order pasta, chicken, mushrooms, and pesto for $4.25. "Welcome home," shouts the chef from the open kitchen. They've delivered meals across the street to our house when guests have ordered from them.

The strip lights W installed yesterday have bonded to the shelf. They're just the right brightness - without shadows - to see everything I need at my desk. I'll be able to sew without constantly adjusting lights or pulling fabric around table lamps.

Before Christmas, we hired someone to do some lettering at IES Bandung. That didn't work out; he never came. So today I take a 1" (2.2cm) construction brush and a can of oil paint to free-write the words. I step back between letters since I haven't bothered with lines or a size template. Are the words evenly spaced? Sort of. It looks like a Grade 1 printing lesson.

These four words define our mission at IES Bandung. I reach for the highest letters from a stepstool, and the lowest ones are just above my head. I debate if there needs to be a "We ... " at the top.  I would need a tall ladder to go higher. Also, does it need that comma after "Grow?" I left off the Oxford comma because I was spacing from right to left ; would it crowd the ampersand? 

I decide, nope to the pronoun and the comma, and we pack up. I take a quick photo so that I can adjust and correct it next week if it bothers me enough. 

I brought a raincoat along after W said, "You're not painting in that, are you?" looking at my regular clothes. "You know you're going to be full of paint." I usually am, but painting letters? It's not like I'm painting a whole wall. There's not even a drop on me. The raincoat stays in the bag.

W tosses the paintbrush away and lifts a few drops off the floor from the first letters. I had to adjust the amount of paint for the slope of the brush since I was painting from underneath.

I ghost-write a letter for a leadership team and send it off, set out things for tomorrow, and call it a day.

Sunday
It's our final "ordinary" Sunday as IC leaders. 

We take it all in: the prayer before the Gathering, the time of worship, the scripture readings, the talk, the baptism ... It is a precious time to remember how blessed we have been to serve with these people. Our last week will be a celebration of our time together.

Titik's flowers take my breath away again.

The bouquet makes our whole place look better.

We enjoy a good lunch at Homeground, sneak-paid by Kyle, brother of Kylie (who was baptized). On the walk after, we spot these beautiful flowers opening at the side of the road.

W and I putter at home, and before we know it, it's nighttime.

Monday
I don't get a call through to Mom but Kirsten and I talk for a long time. Then I get to meet with Kim online. So lifegiving...

At 8AM, I return to editing my article. My, this has dragged on, been revised and procrastinated -- but it is finally done. I'll leave it to percolate overnight, give it one more look, and send it off. First, the third refill of my tea mug. Thinking makes me thirsty.

I write a FutureMe letter (to be read in a year) about current events. It also looks back at the goodness of God over the past years. I don't want to forget his faithfulness. Ever.

Anna sends over the MOST delicious hot cross buns from #MomsBakery, which we enjoy for lunch and supper.

In late afternoon, we take all the canines for a walk. Most Muslims here are terrified of dogs. Not these 4! They pet the dogs and ask where we're going. "For a walk," we say. They tell us they are walking the dogs with us. I ask them to get their mom's permission. "No worries, we may come with you," they gleefully shout. 

Accompanied by shrieking and jubilant voices all the way, they alternate #1, #2, #3, and #4 walkers. I point out little landmarks where they can trade places. They pass it along or gaily laugh as they drop the leash so the next person has to scramble and pounce on it before the old dogs get away.  Little rascals. What fun. They smell the gardenia blooms with us and make appropriate noises: mmmmmm, enak.

"Can we walk Anton, too?" (Um, nope - though he is so distracted by their hopping, petting, and shouting that he misses two chances to lunge at a cat.) We laugh at the kids' antics. It takes us over an hour to do the 30-minute loop. Several of the kids are learning English here on Saturdays so they shout their 1, 2, 3 ... up to 10. The program is paused for the end of Ramadan but resumes in April.

It's 5:30 before we come in the gate. The dogs will sleep well tonight. They are worn out when we get home. I write the monthly newsletter to partners, finish writing, and then W and I gratefully prepare for a good night's rest.

Read more:

* When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the LORD your God. Deuteronomy 8:10

* Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. Jeremiah 23:3

* [Jesus said,} I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10

* Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! 2 Corinthians 9:15

Moravian Prayer: God of the beginning and of the end, you hold every part of our lives in your hands. Wherever we are on our walk of life, we dedicate it to your service. We place our trust in you and you alone. 

In Lent, we reflect on your love for us, eternal Caregiver. You have given so much to our lives and continue to provide daily for our existence. We pause now and say, “Thank you.” Amen.

Lenten reflections continue at the end of Ramadan

Wednesday, March 18, 2026

One of the most life-giving things I do is participate in a mastermind for leaders. Today, we share good counsel and I get great advice. W walks the dogs while I'm on the call. 

I finish the last page of my "personal growth" notebook in which I record meetings like this. It goes on the shelf with dozens of other journals in every shape and size. If a writer is defined by writing, I'm a writer. There are travelogues, art journals, annotated calendars, book reviews, and personal diaries. I choose the next notebook for personal meetings and set it aside.

In an almost-full dot-grid notebook, I draw up a week of minimalist journaling, something I do periodically to track transitions. Each day's square is labeled with the day of the week and the day of my life (#255-- today). I record meetings, highlights, weather, exercise, food, weight, reading and studies, writing, and more. You can customize what you put in, but this is the founder's suggestion:

Later, a scan of the page will offer the whole week in review. The last entries are from a year ago. I look back at its dinners and meetings, anticipation of Anton's arrival on April 10 (2025), junk food and good meals, our team's progress, and weather that is similar to today. We hadn't signed a caretaker contract for the house we're living in. We were walking 9-11,000 steps a day and I weighed 3 kg more. A blink of time caught on one page, a week captured.

I led IESBandung for 7 1/2 years, with W as my wingman. Both of us want to finish well. We juggle the remaining weeks with a hard deadline of disengagement. We're wrapping up so we can also move into the next season. I sign off for an intern for next year, confirm videos, readings, and events, and schedule speakers for a few months after we leave. W and I discuss a possible trip to support a close family member who will have surgery.

W has begun mapping out the year ahead: travels, teaching, and what else comes next. First, we need rest and rejuvenation. For W, that looks like a blur of exploration and activity. For me, it means choosing a few novels to read and packing enough art supplies to process the transition between what's just happened and what is coming. Jumping in with both feet after sustained efforts does no one good.

We warm up burritos from the student food court for lunch. For side dishes, I grate cucumbers and cook pear-shaped green vegetables (chayote) with various spices we rarely use, just for the fun of the taste. Not bad. The view is excellent. The 9' (3m) shrub has put out another batch of one-day pink flowers.

The clouds blow over the city; by 4PM we turn on the lights in the house. At 4:30 it is as dark as bedtime. The rain begins to patter as Juno and I walk the neighborhood to get in at least a miserable 4000 steps. I pull shut the curtains, heat up leftovers for supper, and am in bed reading by early evening.

A new pre-sleep habit is playing one piece a night on the keyboard, hoping to improve sightreading and flexibility. I used to take those for granted, playing as naturally as breathing. It's been decades since I performed regularly so my coordination and instinctive reach have deteriorated. I improvise easily, but even that has become simpler as technique and speed atrophy.

It takes all the pressure off to read through one solo arrangement per night. After, I click off the machine, remove the headphones, and pull a dust cover over the keys. A full basket of new music waits to be explored. Each time I finish playing a book, I give it away.

Thursday

Every day during Lent, Alice posts a scripture and a question. For today, Lent Day 27: Jesus claims to be God. What does that mean to you? Jesus cried out, “Whoever believes in me does not believe in me only, but in the one who sent me. (John 12:44)

After a walk with 4 dogs, we line up projects, measure rooms and beds for assembly, and eat a hearty home-cooked breakfast on the Porch. I do the cooking because during Ramadan, the helpers are fasting.

The month of cooking is my treat to myself. I cook and eat what and when I want without considering local tastes. I sometimes sniff the air near noontime, deciding what I'm hungry for. Giving a helper a break from the kitchen is not required. In most non-Muslim households, meal preparations continue as usual, though Muslim helpers are not supposed to eat or drink while the sun's up. Food doesn't taste the same when they can't taste it, though.

Living in a Project, we depend heavily on others: W and I couldn't begin to focus on academic work and leading teams if our time was consumed by house and yard maintenance. The daily cost is this: I can no longer impulsively chart my day. Instead, I run the household and other spaces like a small business, managing employees and their workloads. Normally, I schedule tasks and post the lunch menu on a whiteboard ... before the others arrive at 8AM.

This little guy hasn't made it across the street. So much wildlife lives only for a short season, especially in a city full of cats.

I find another unopened box in the carport. The children's books inside are happily claimed by Hanny as prizes for IES Bandung kids.

W and I trim more words from my dictionary article. I leave stroke-throughs across 50 words I consider important but not essential. I'm still 150 words over the limit. Grrr. Editing is the hardest part of writing.

The birds chirp, the brooms swish, the dishes clatter in the sink, and the beautiful view reminds me that God is generous and kind. He has everything - including time - under control. My joyful obligation is to do the next right thing, one step at a time.

Traffic is miserable. At the market, PakG negotiates barely-passible spaces between buses, motorcycles, hand-pulled carts (see the guy on the right?), pedestrians, and cars. We don't know how he does it.

Many old houses are rented out as student dorms in this university city.

The alleys into neighborhoods are sometimes one or two handlebars wide.

We have a few grocery items on our list. Along the way, W chooses a cafeteria-style restaurant where the corned beef sandwiches are good. The line to get it in is long. We're told, "Probably a half hour." I perch on a cheap plastic stool for nearly an hour before giving up and going outside. W zips over to a nearby grocer to see if they have an item we didn't find. Nope. He comes to get me when it's time to order, after a wait of 1 1/2 hours.

Our table is ready. The music pulses with pop and jazz. W keeps music on constantly so he hardly notices. (I thrive in silence because the music in my head is loud enough.) I find napkins at the server station and tear off pieces, stuffing them into my ears to cut the edge off the noise. People shout across their tables in the warehouse-sized room that has no soundproofing. Forewarned, I would have brought construction-grade earplugs.

I've lost my appetite. I'm not a fan of greasy food at the best of times. Fried cheesecake?  No thanks - pure ick! W looks forward to their specialty: corned beef wedged between fat-drenched sourdough, with a side of potato chips. I order rotisserie chicken and rice. We share part of a plate of well-oiled mushroom gnocchi; W takes the rest - half his sandwich and half the gnocchi - home for supper.

It's good but not worth enduring the racket and jostling in the waiting line. My skull has tightened into a headache by the time we escape. We make a short stop at another shop before heading home. Luckily, W has Ibuprofen at home, which blunts the pain.

Would you bathe in this water? That's what comes out of the tap today. W hauls buckets of water from the water heater in the upstairs shower while I fill pails at the kitchen sink. The water looks dirty. With Epsom salts and hand soap bubbles, it's a treat.

Friday
It's the last workday for those taking the week off for Lebaran (the family holiday at the end of Ramadan.) PakG plants the irises that Martin gifted us, along with a multi-colored branch that has been rooting on the kitchen windowsill. The dogs get their walks and the yard and house get cleaned.

W installs a strip of lights above my desk and stand-alone lighting under the kitchen cabinets. I need another Ibuprofen before I can put my desk back in order. Most of the day, I'm editing. RB sends his thesis (I get partway through) and an Asian press is waiting for an article (returned today with edits). My own edits have not whittled off more words, sadly. I'll format the citations tomorrow and send it off.

I pause in the middle of editing to cook lunch. When I'm by myself, I get absorbed and don't stop until I finish what I'm working on. However, when W is around, I need to be mindful that his stomach may be growling before my appetite appears.

The homemade vegetable sauce includes fried onions, cabbage, meat, carrots, and chopped tomatoes. Ricotta cheese creams it. Italian herbs, salt, and pepper season it. I check the sell-by date on the egg noodle package: oops, they expired last November. They tasted fresh. We indulge in TJ dark chocolate peanut butter cups for dessert.

Just for fun, I swap a set of chairs between my office and the living room. Much better. The modern chairs and cozy sheepskins encourage relaxed conversations. However, their leaning backs hinder good posture if I'm working.

It's pure luxury to hear birds singing, dogs barking, and thunder rumbling from the covered Porch. My tall mug of tea gets refilled many times. 

Saturday

Today's post is this. Lent Day 28: Is there any darkness that you are hiding in? How would letting Jesus’ light shine in you take away that darkness? [Jesus said,] I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness. (John 12:46)

It's the end of fasting month. It's very loud, an all-night celebration as speakers boom. Our old dog Gypsy is terrified of fireworks so it's a nightmare for him. He scratches deep grooves in the back door trying to escape the noise. When W hears him, he gets tied to his blackout dog house, where light flashes and bangs are minimized. Poor dog.

Many helpers are away. This driveway hasn't been swept as usual: the bougainvillea has dropped a ribbon of petals at the gate. 

We head out for the morning walk, greeting neighbors who are coming back from Muslim prayers. We walked by the crowd on a side street. From what we could see, men sat together inside the park-like grounds, while women sat on the street.

Everyone is nicely dressed. Some households wear matching outfits. Per tradition, they take a new way home when the chants are over, talking and greeting each other. It's wonderful to see many generations walking together. The kids jump and chatter like sparrows. At this time of year, people return to visit their families, like Canadians and Europeans do at Christmas.

Read more:
* O God, from my youth you have taught me, and I still proclaim your wondrous deeds. Psalm 71:17

* ... how from childhood you have known sacred writings that are able to instruct you for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 2 Timothy 3:15

Moravian Prayer: Lord, may we never stop being curious about your love and goodness, no matter our age. May we never become so rigid in our thinking that you cannot break through with new revelations. Keep us open and malleable to your guidance and words. Amen.