Marhaba Ya'll

We did it. We moved.

After 8 years of life in the Middle East, we packed what we deemed keep able into 15 trunks and 6 duffel bags and moved back to Texas.

Last day of 1st grade in Jordan

As I was saying goodbye to so many wonderful people, I was convinced more than ever that our years were well spent, investing in the lives of a precious group of Arab people, and working alongside a precious group of American people. So, if days were currency, we spent them.
We lived them.
We did not put them in our pockets for a rainy day.
Good thing, because it didn't rain much in the desert.

We are ready to use the lessons we learned about God as our provider and leader, about people, about understanding others, and about investing in others' lives to begin a new chapter.

Our Texas homeland is organized. The roads are well paved. All the houses are master planned in rows. But, still people here need to know God intimately, so we want to share how He has met our physical needs, and how He was and IS our friend in lonely times.


Some things I hope to enjoy:
1. Smooth roads
2. Air conditioning
3. Wearing skirts
4. Nearness to family
5. A quiet outdoors without horns, mosque speakers, and loud cars

Some things I suspect I'll miss:
1. Cheap produce and hummus/felafel
2. Dry, cool breeze blowing in from the Mediterranean over Israel at night
3. Sitting on my balcony, enjoying that weather
4. Jogging in the hills
5. Simple living


My challenge is to search for the hidden treasures in the nature around me here--to slow down enough to look at the flowers here, and walk in the rain showers. Really, if I don't "do" my hair, then I can enjoy the rain as it falls on my head, rather than being frustrated it is messing up my perfect "do."  My challenge is to find the same, quiet place of peace and solitude even though my internet moves at light speed and the TV has recorded ever show known to man. Seriously, the phones here sync to your car speakers and things talk to you!! Technology has moved on while I was hanging out with the sheep and camels.

God is the same, yesterday and today. He is the same provider, friend, and father to Americans and Arabs.

I have nothing to fear.

I only have new challenges to work through...important ones like how to make my own hummus.

Miles to go before I sleep

A few days ago, I was thinking of the good-byes we had already said.
Then I realized all we still have left to finish. 

LA and girls at our first Christmas overseas, Lydia still a bun in the oven

You see, we have lived in the Middle East for 8 years now, but this time we hear a voice in our hearts--which we believe to be God leading us--telling us it is time to move back to the US.  We have a new job to do; maybe it is a continuation of the one we started here, or maybe something altogether different. We shall see--

So, I'm thinking...


Wow, we have been saying goodbye to many friends that can't fully understand why we are leaving. Being Arab, their hearts respond first, then their heads chime in with reason.  They are a wonderfully passionate people who can really cook well, BTW! They do hear us when we say we love them and their country, but it is time for us to leave. My husband's friend even tried to pull together all the men of influence in his life to have an intervention of sorts--to plead with him, and persuade him not to leave.  Apparently this works sometimes--but not with us. Not when you've sensed a "niggling" (is that really a word?) in your heart and prayed about what to do. When you know it is God speaking to you about a direction for the future, no intervention, or "juha" as it is named here, can get in your way.

That is when, from the depths of my memory, Robert Frost's poem came to my mind.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   

His house is in the village though;   

He will not see me stopping here   

To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   

To stop without a farmhouse near   

Between the woods and frozen lake   

The darkest evening of the year.   

He gives his harness bells a shake   

To ask if there is some mistake.   

The only other sound’s the sweep   

Of easy wind and downy flake.   

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.   

But I have promises to keep,   

And miles to go before I sleep,   

And miles to go before I sleep.

----------------------
If the woods were my home here in the Middle East for 8 years, and my little horse "thinking it queer" are all the wonderful family and friends who had a difficult time seeing us relocate to our "house in the woods" for this season, then it also seems likely that I can make a final parallel in saying goodbye.  I loved the last stanza about how the woods are lovely, but, indeed, promises have to be fulfilled and I do have to move on before I sleep.  We must move on the next place and finish our lives well--fulfilling our promises to God and obeying.

And sometimes, I just focus on the "miles to do before I sleep" part as the long to-do list. It is 12:30 am here and I am wide awake typing, so .....yeah.... I'm afflicted.

Girls all grown up after 8 years...

The Woods here have been good to us, yet--rather more like a desert wouldn't you say?



additional poetry notes for the nerds out there:

Frost wrote the poem in June, 1922 at his house in Shaftsbury, Vermont.  He had been up the entire night writing the long poem "New Hampshire" and had finally finished when he realized morning had come. He went out to view the sunrise and suddenly got the idea for "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening". He wrote the new poem "about the snowy evening and the little horse as if I'd had a hallucination" in just "a few minutes without strain." --notes taken from Wikipedia

Bye, Ya'll!!!

I'm Texas bound in one week, but eating felafel and hummus every other day until then.