Once upon a hoopty...

Just to set a few things straight: I have chosen to extend my time here by two years (despite my supe's requesting that I go ahead and commit to an extra summer). This would have me staying here until the end of may, 2007. In honor of my decision to hang around, I am moving to a new house that, at first glance, appears to be safer than the one in which I currently reside. Actually, my thinking about moving it was finally led me to make a decision on extending in the first place. And this decision was confirmed by the fact that as soon as I made it, someone stole my spare tire and my grandpa died. So, moving day is wednesday, and I have much to do in terms of packing. I wish I didn't live in such filth. This is also helping me choose to move. In this new place, which is much bigger so that we can house teams that come down in it, I would have a maid come probably twice a week. So...Friday night I decided to move, monday, i went around and looked at houses, thursday, I talked over a contract, and wednesday, I'll move in. It's crazy how fast life moves sometimes and I don't know if that is completely wonderful or sucks a whole lot.

So, a question. I know that blogging should not be used to write out all your deepest thoughts for all the world to see (I've written one or two unpublished drafts, myself), but it seems to be the perfect location for people to talk about their lovelifes, both in complaint and in praise. And people DO write about it. Why not? So, it always seemed to me that it might be a bit...er...wrong for me to read my current girlfriend's blog (never had a blogging girlfriend, and don't currently have a girlfriend...this is all theory here, folks) so that she would feel free to write about what she wanted to write about without worrying that I might walk up to her and say "hey, you twisted my words in your blog" or whatever. And I think I have been proved wrong. It dawns on me that it is so appropriate that there be open dialogue. It is important to me that the girlfriend/wife (whenever God sends, ...and by the way *achem* we'd all appreciate it if you'd get on that for us, eh?) be open with me, and sometimes blogging is the absolute best way to do it. I know that I seem to vent best in written form and that I am much less likely to say something I didn't mean. But I can say EVERYTHING i do mean, and sometimes, if I could just get the vent out, no interruptions, and then talk about it later...it might help get through whatever situation is at hand.

Because honesty and trust are so important to me. I think that those are important values in our culture. When we watch tv shows, we boo the person that is disloyal and lies to their friends. We feel uneasy when a character we like HAS to lie for "the right reasons" and we try to justify their actions, because they are the exception to what is right. Many missionaries in this country...and in this part of the world, and probably all across the globe...and probably millions of people who aren't missionaries (I'm stopping here, you get the point) have trusted other people, maybe even some who have earned trust only to be stabbed in the back and for the person who did it to shrug their shoulders and say "hey, that's life, you shouldn't have trusted me." That idea increases my circulation. I'd like to think that I am not easily angered. But a few things really heat me up: lying, disloyalty/treachery, stealing, and taxi drivers. How in the world can someone go back on their word in a way that hurts their friends and is personally benefitting? I don't confess to be a sinless saint, but i just don't understand why people don't WANT to be honest and fair-dealing with each other. I lost my train of thought, so that's all.

So, I didn't go home to be with my family during this time. And I'm okay with that. I called over there several times and got to talk with just about everyone. People I haven't spoken with in years. When I spoke with my grandpa's wife, I was comforted, which felt a little like the opposite of the way things are supposed to go. She spoke calmly and was obviously very happy to have so much family around (her kids, his kids, and his former wife's kids -- it's a blessing we all get on so well). She told me that Grandpa was proud of me. I don't know why she told me that, but I'm glad she did. I didn't know he was proud of me. One of his daughters, with whom I have not spoken in several years, told me that he was so proud of what i was doing. I didn't know he talked about me. His wife said that his eyes got teary sometimes when i sent in updates. I didn't know that. His pastor and his wife feel that he was right with God. I hope so. And I don't mean that in a negative sense, as in that I hope one way but feel sure that the opposite is true. I mean, I have hope that he had, indeed, made peace with God. May the 13 or so extra years of life given to you as a gift, grandpa, may they have been used to draw you to the Father and may you find your peace now with him.

My Grandpa died on Saturday morning. At that time, I was driving from the middle of nowhere back to Managua. I got to my email at 12:40ish and read about it in an email from my sister, but not before first reading about another missionary I know who finally went home after fighting brain cancer for a year. There are two deaths, both tragic, but one is also a victory. The missionary was a young man in his 30s who had a wife and no children. She is comforted to know that Jon went home to be in the hands of their father, but still will have to live through the pain of moving on. My grandpa was a funny fellow, and was living on borrowed time. He had lung cancer many years ago and had to have portions removed. This did not help when he came down with pneumonia the other day while in the hospital. They performed an emergency surgery to stop internal bleeding, it was successful, and then, for a reason that I do not yet know, his heart stopped on saturday morning. I can't help but feel that his death was not a victory, but was, instead, the end of the wasted extra time to live that he was given. I am thankful that he was there with my grandma as she suffered slowly and wasted away. I am glad he was there with our family when my uncle passed away. I am glad he was able to be a comfort to his third wife when her daughter committed suicide. I pray someone will be that same comfort for her now. I hate not going to the funeral and not being able to be with family. It makes it all seem so surreal. It makes me afraid to call, almost out of shame that i can't be there, and out of fear of coming to grips with it all. I loved him. I still do, i suppose. I am not devasted that he is gone, and maybe that is why I am afraid to call. I am ashamed that I can not be there with them and I am afraid that the main reason i didn't go is because I can't afford it. And then, when people offer to pay, I am even more ashamed, because that is not the reason either...or maybe I don't feel it would be appropriate to accept such charity. I would be ashamed of the debt. I am not overwrought with grief, and in fact, I don't even believe it yet, not really. But I feel like I should be. I am going to call, though. As much for my family as for me, and even for his memory. I'm sorry I didn't see you at thanksgiving, grandpa.

Before getting into anything, I find it funny that blogging, for me, varies from having intellectual conversations with myself about life and God and politics to bearing my soul in my inner, personal struggles. As shallow as it may sound, i feel like the following falls under the latter category.

So. It all comes to this: Should I stay or should I go? There are good reasons to stay...and my supervisors are not below reminding me of them and tempting me with other paddings. The reasons to go home seem awfully personal in nature: I'm lonely, I miss things like Christmas, I miss being able to talk with people about things like music and literature. Of course I miss friends and family, and if I left here, I would too. I suppose when I write it all down, it seems logical to stay. But even then, for how long? I should've already made a decision to extend or re-sign up or whatever, but it seems so odd to make a decision about how much longer I want to stay without a clear reason one way or the other. I want to go home and I want to stay, and I suppose it makes the most sense to stay, as I don't have any direction upon going home. So, should I extend 6 months? extend 15 months? extend 6 months and then resign up for two more years putting me back in the states in January 2008?

I dawns on me that going home at whatever point, when I am done with my work here, is going to make me feel completely useless because no one is going to care about all that I know about Nicaragua and its people. I wish I was one to be able to tell random stories off the top of my head, on command, but I don't even do that well...so I won't even be able to appease the story-seekers when I return. Oh well, "sufficient unto the day...."

God, is she out there?!?!?

[Edit: Click on the title for a link to the story to which I am referring]

Okay, reading this story, I'm not entirely sure what the deal is. The reporter must be leaving out some kind of crucial information, because the judge's final decision on this case seems, at face value, a little silly. "This textbook contains material on evolution. Evolution is a theory, not a fact, regarding the origin of living things. This material should be approached with an open mind, studied carefully and critically considered." This introduction gives believers just as much reason to doubt it as opposers reason to consider it. It challenges students to study and not just accept it or deny it unquestioningly. Perhaps we should put introductions like this in history books as well. We know that people who write history like to write it in such a way that favors their opinions. (Side note: The ship that the HMS Suprise is pursuing in "Master and Commander" in the movie is french, but in the book it was american. Wouldn't want american audiences getting mad because some one portrayed them as the bad guys!). So, back to evolution. Evolution is a theory. It is a good theory. But Creationists are not the only people who find it somewhat faulty. Evolution is the gathering of material to surmise the best scientific reasoning behind how the earth, as we know it, came to be so, and how we as a race, as a species, came to be as we are. I would hazard that it is largely in response to the unfaltering belief in Creationism, but that's just a theory. I don't mean to say that a science book should be teaching theories that are not considered scientific, but even the theory of evolution has changed over the past 50 years in some details. Whose rights are violated by asking students to consider material, ANY material, with a critical eye? Isn't that what EDUCATION and even the dadgum SCIENTIFIC METHOD are all about? Questioning what is held as truth?

The real problem that scares me is that we citizens of the US keep bringing certain cases before federal courts. I don't mean to say it scares me that we are using the court system. That's a good thing; they are there for that very reason. What I mean is that...not every issue is a federal issue. Some of them are state issues. For example: education. I understand that people are crying out for national standards and especially because as kids begin to apply to colleges, they may have a perfect GPA from the best education their state had to offer and it may end up being sub-par to that of other states. However, there are no U.S. federal schools. We have only State public schools and of course private schools. Why then, do issues concerning education move to a federal level? Why do we want a bigger government? Didn't any of you read Fahrenheit 451 or 1984? It's amazing when you look back at the way our country was founded, as a group of states. I think we no longer understand what the word "state" means. Every country in the world, besides the U.S. is ONE state. We are 50 individual states, each with it's own voice. The federal branch of our government was meant to be used for things such as foreign policy, not running our lives. Our government was set up in the constitution to be small government, unlike the monarchies of the European nations from which the original settlers came. and 200 years later, we have come full circle. So remember, folks, Vote Adam for Small Government!

God called me to amazing fast in dependence this past week. My fast was to eat no food, but what was offered to me. The first thing I did was plan out where I was probably going to get offered meals in the next couple of days...and every time, I was wrong. Each and every meal I thought might happen through the weekend bailed on me. I was getting pretty hungry...it was the strongest I've been tempted to eat during a fast ever. Or, at least, it seemed like the strongest at the time...and I suppose it always does. :) Sunday night I agreed to take a friend of mine to church. I was kinda bummed that we showed up after it was over (i thought it started at 6 instead of 5), and on the way home, she up and offers to buy me a burger from McDonald's. God bless her. Stuff like this happened all week. In the final moments of fasting, I'm sitting in a meeting, writing down and thinking out strategy, when it hits me. Here I am, trying to plan out what God wants to do to reach the people of Nicaragua. We have obviously found a simple concept that seems to be blessed by God, but now I'm trying to steer the ship and decide who should be reached by this and not letting God show me where to go. I have been crying out much of late, "What do you want, God?" and finally I heard the answer. The same answer it's always been since day 1: "Your availability, Adam." Wasn't this God's call to every Israelite leader or prophet? Wasn't this Jesus' call to those who wanted to follow him? I will tell you the truth, it was his call to me. I heard, as clear as I've ever heard from any physical lips: "...as you are now, you are not usable the way I want to use you. So, get up off your butt and follow me!" I have forgotten the first rule of being a follower: I am supposed to follow. I also asked God, "What should my agenda be?" and he said, "PRAYER. Depend on me, Adam." And so, even though I was sitting in a chair in the meeting, I kneeled in my heart and said "You don't need me here, would you use me here?" And our conversation was finished. Sometimes it is not God's job to provide answers just because I want to hear them. It isn't my job to figure out the plan. It is my job to be obedient and faithful with what I have been given. But above and before all else, I need to depend on God to provide all that I need when I need it, even if I think I need it earlier. I don't have to be in control.

Okay, so...getting stuff stolen from you isn't very fun. It feels like such a disrespect of personal space. I want to equate it to rape, but it's really not quite so personal. And at least this time, it was only a chain hanging on a tree (although, the second time it has happened) and not my computer stolen out of the next room while I was sleeping. The more I think about it, though, it isn't that I was robbed that bothers me. It isn't the amount it will cost me, because money is only good if you use it. It isn't even, really, the hassle of having to replace it (or live without it). And it's barely the fact that I was stupid enough to leave it in a place where it would get stolen (for the second time). It's the fact that it didn't cost the theif anything to steal from me. It's the fact that he is bragging to his friends how he got away with it. And when I finally see what it is that is really bothering me, that someone is laughing at getting the best of me, it makes me realize that I am just as much a jerk as that low-down, son of a gun who stole my hammock-hanging chain. Because he thought, likely, before he stole it, "This gringo can afford a new one. It will barely even bother his wallet." And he's right. That doesn't give him right to take it, but it makes it hard for me to be mad at him. So, brother...wherever you are, you are made from the same deprived slime that I am, and I forgive you. You can keep the chain. Think of it as a gift. May God bless you and have mercy on your soul.