my little angels

"Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her."" Luke 10:38-42

After I said goodbye to my little 4 and 5 year olds last week, I grabbed a broom and began sweeping out the classrooms like I always do. There are normally a handful of kids who stay a few hours longer waiting for a parent to get off work, and they normally play in the gym. Well, on this particular day two little girls decided they were going to play in whatever classroom I happened to be trying to clean. They came in giggling, eyes shining, long hair streaming behind them as they ran across the floor and slid right in front of me, scattering my nice little piles of dirt back across the room. They didn't look where they slid, they just looked at me and each other and giggled like it was the best thing ever. I haven't seen them act that way with any of the other teachers. Maybe it's because I'm a foreigner. Or maybe it's because they can see right through me with their pure child-hearts; perhaps they could see that I'm not so different from them, that I still love playing dress-up just like they do, that I sleep with a teddy bear close by and eat dessert before dinner. It was then that I gained a bit more insight into the Martha and Mary story, which I think is full of different lessons. I was Martha that day, busily trying to do what I was "supposed" to be doing, not looking up or around to see or enjoy that which God had put around me. The two little girls were Mary, unconcerned with where they "should" be or what they "should" be doing. They were just enjoying the moment God gave them, and what God made them--girls, feminine, pure-hearted. They haven't yet been corrupted by the world into thinking that to be feminine is to be "too much," "not enough," and hardened, that beauty comes from what you wear and a coating of makeup. They still know God's truths, that to be feminine is good, that they deserve to be delighted in, that beauty shines from the inside out. They soon had me transformed into a Mary as well, pushing them across the room on my broom and giggling along with them. Little girls are good for that.

i've gone mad

Just so yous know, it's official: I've gone mad. Let me explain.

On Tuesday I woke up with a sore throat, and as the day progressed it turned into a huge headache. So most of the day I wasn't able to think straight at all. I left work at my official time (4:55) and walked to a place where I meet a lady from church because she drives me to Japanese class on Tuesdays. I waited for her for a half an hour but she didn't show up, so I just figured something came up and I walked home with my pounding head. Upon arriving in my apartment I glance at my rice cooker. The time on it said 5:00. What?? So I look at my alarm clock. It too said 5:00. At this point I'm so confused and I have no idea what's going on...I just know my head hurts. The only thing that could have happended is that I left work an entire hour early. But it was completely not on purpose--I definitely thought the clock said 4:55, I can still see it in my head. And as I was leaving everyone said goodbye just like they always do; I even walked right past my principal and he said bye like he does every other day. Yesterday I was at my other school and today I have to go back to my main school...I really hope they don't say anthing because all I can tell them is the truth, which sounds like a lie. Sigh. I really have gone mad.

Stay…or go to who knows where

I came knowing I would stay here for two years, and I haven’t questioned that even once until today. Now I’m not so sure.

I’ve been trying for a couple weeks now to “be allowed” to buy my plane ticket for Christmas to visit my family. I have my eye on two different tickets, and I noticed this morning that one of them went up by about $200. Now before I continue, I must explain the way things work:

Status is extremely important in Japan. At school, I’m the absolute bottom of the rung. I can’t just go to my principal or vice principal to ask something; I have to go first through the head English teacher who will go through somebody else who will finally go to the principle or vice principle.

So I’ve been telling my head English teacher the dates I’d like be gone for Christmas these past few weeks, but she hasn’t passed anything along. Long story somewhat shorted: I keep asking today without getting answers, so finally right before I leave school I tell my English teacher I’m going to buy my ticket. She says I should wait for the vice principal to come back from a meeting he was at, which would mean I’d have to wait at work for half an hour after I should be gone. So I wait because I didn’t want my ticket to go up by like $500 before I’m finally “allowed” to buy it. So I wait and wait for an hour, he finally comes back, and he tells me to wait until Thursday. It took everything in me not to do something emotional—throw the nearest object out the window, run out screaming, start sobbing. But I couldn’t do anything at all but walk home in the dark, missing my Japanese class yet again because I had to wait so long.

I have never been more frustrated in my life. The reason I have to wait two more days is because I’d be missing 2 ½ days of “teaching” class over my Christmas break and he wanted to talk that over with the principal, who won’t be back until Thursday. It makes me so angry that everything is a double-standard when it comes to me. They have a lot of rules: “leave a room better than it was when you came” unless that room is the English room, then you can hold meetings in there without letting Kristin know, you can leave whatever you want in there, and don’t worry about putting things back where you found them. “When you go on vacation, bring back present for all the other teachers” except for Kristin, let’s leave nice wrapped presents on everybody’s desk except hers so that when she’s sad coming back from her fabulous trip to Malaysia and is really missing her friends she’ll know how much she’s valued here. And my favorite double-standard of all: cancelling class. All my classes so far this week have been cancelled. But did anybody bother telling me that? No, not until after the fact. They did that to me all the time last semester too. And yet they don’t want me to miss 2 ½ days for Christmas break? Last semester they cancelled classes the entire last half of the semester so the kids could go swimming! And you’re seriously thinking about not letting me go for 2 ½ days??

Maybe I’m being too dramatic about this. It's difficult being “the new girl” again. I was spoiled in Oklahoma. I was able to stay there for 4 ½ years, which for me is nearly forever, and I was actually able to make real friends. And oh do I miss them all.

I hope this isn’t too depressing; I may come back through later and delete it, but for now I just want all of you who actually read this to know how I’m really doing and to pray for me for guidance.