Have I gotten through culture shock?

To answer that question...I don't know. I don't know what I am doing. I literally take life day by day. Yes I am a planner by nature but God has taught me that His plans are better. A dear mentor of mine gave me 2 Bible verses that I keep by my stove (cooker as they call it here). The one I have forged in my memory is 2 Samuel 22:33 "God is my strength and power, And He makes my way perfect." Wow, that takes the pressure off! I don't have to strive! (Yet I still find myself doing it).

Back to the culture shock thing: I hit it pretty hard in February. My seasoned friend that has been her over 10 years but not native to Ireland reassures me that she thinks I am doing just fine. When we went to our interviews and seminars at OM USA in Feb of 2008 we learned that we would go through culture shock. When we went to our orientation in Germany in January 2009 we learned, we are going to go through it. The different forms it takes on, but that it does end (just not too much info on how to get through it). And as I talked to a friend that has been here for ~5 years (?) his response was said laughingly but serious, "oh yeah, you're definitely going to go through it." So the question is, have I gone through it? Well some of you can attest to my episode at the end of February where I asked for prayer from my closest friends, and all I have to say is, if that was not it, Lord help me!...and those around me! :)

There are parts of Ireland that I love but when we were taught about entering a culture different than that you grew up in and were accustomed to, you usually enter with an amazement and awe! They almost describe it as a euphoria, or as our team leader calls it, "having your rose colored glasses on." I don't think I have had rose colored glasses. I am a preparer. As a lifeguard (in my teenage years), we always had to train for worst case scenario so when it came we would react in the proper manner and procedure. That is how I have managed most of my life. However, that is not the healthiest way. There is something to be said for being prepared but it can also lead to paranoia, and driving your spouse crazy. So needless to say, that is how I entered living in a foreign country. I was looking at what I knew we would have to face and preparing myself for the worst to make sure that I could handle it. (Was not prepared for 3rd child).

I realized the other week that one thing I was missing in my heart was making our house a home. The past six years, we lived in Woodstock, GA. Woodstock was a place that was more home to us than anywhere we had lived. We worked hard on getting out of debt with old student loans and irresponsible spending. In doing that we did not spend a lot of money on household items to decorate, none the less, our house had become a cozy home. I realized the other day, that here, our house was functional, but not cozy. We have everything we need, and want. We lack nothing, but I think that what is missing is the creativity that God places in a woman's heart to make her house her home. I thought, why am I so reluctant to do so? I desired to, but also was reluctant to do so. I also appreciated all the neat experiences God has given us since we have been her as you can see on my blog, but deep in my heart did not fully allow myself to fully enjoy and let my guard down enough to fully, and truly be HERE. I hope this makes sense to you-either that or you just think I am crazy-maybe both. That's okay. I do too. :)

So, I had to ask myself, and God to reveal to me why I am so guarded? Why this wall? I do not want to continue to live the next two years (or however long God has us here) like this. I want to fully jump into what He has for us. So the answer is that I have found or has been revealed to me so far is: I don't want to grow attached to things here only to go through the heartbreak of saying goodbye to this and go to what God has in store for us next, if this is not it when the time comes. But I think to truly enjoy this, I have to let go of some of home. More than I was willing to let go of. I know with my pregnancy cravings I talk a lot about food that I miss, but I realized that is also me hanging on to every little familiar thing I can.

Now I wake up mornings and I do not feel like I am living in someone else's world. I look out and the sight of the sheep fields is becoming familiar, not so foreign. The walks that we take are not so much exploring and finding out new things, making myself and the kids get out of the house, despite the wind, but going out to do the familiar. Going through the grocery store is not merely survival of getting what we know we will need and what the kids will eat, but looking at new things, and the new things aren't so new. Pulling out into intersections does not take a lot of thought of which side of the road I should be on and how and when to shift gears, but I am just simply driving now. I am not as concerned of being the foreigner walking down the street and standing out as I am getting used to the correct terminology of things, and accept that I AM a foreigner. I don't have to fit in and really shouldn't. This world is not my home and I am to be in this world but not of it (per Bible). There is nothing that has taught me that more than truly being a foreigner.

The song playing, "Never Let Go" has taken on more meaning. "Amazing Grace" has captured my heart. I cannot even fully sing the words to the song as it hits so close to my heart, not because of the ties with Ireland but being a wretch saved by grace is just overwhelming. Taking communion every Sunday has made me through accountability to my Savior (thanks to the preaching of Vance Pitman from Hope Baptist Church in Las Vegas on a sermon on Communion while on a missions trip in LV) kneel in repentance towards Him before I dare take for granted His sacrifice for me. And driving down the road by myself from a doctor's appointment that took 3 hours to wait for, and almost one hour to drive to and then home from has opened up conversation to my Savior that is there for me when I am all by myself and don't have my spouse to talk to, my household routine to hide behind, my friends to chat with on FB or Skype and it is just me and Him. I was told that loneliness is a blessing. I could comprehend it, but I can appreciate it now, and do appreciate it. I am not depressed, but I do have a spot that is more recognizable where I need the Lord, when all else is silenced. Where there is nothing but Him. And I am thankful for that.

Is there a sheep in my room?

Well this morning I woke up to the sound of a sheep bleating ("Baahhing" as we say). It sounded as if the sheep were right outside my window. I immediately thought that the sheep from the pasture behind our house got out somehow. However, all I could yell is "sheep!" I ran to the window but when I got there I got light headed from jumping out of bed so fast! So I just leaned against the wall while Ludie wondered what in the world I was doing and why I yelled "Sheep!".

After a second I explained that the sheep got out. I ran and got Ruthie out of her bed. Yelled for Griffin to get up. We all got our wellies on (golloshes) and headed outside. Ludie moved the car to block the sheep from going down our road to the main road. Griffin filled in the hole in front of the car to make a wall. I got to be the sheepdog (no comments) and go get the sheep and herd them back while Ludie opened the gates. Ruthie barked at the sheep.

We realized that the gate to the cemetery had been left open. There is a stone wall around the cemetery that has an intentional hole in it big enough for a sheep or child to fit through (I don't know why, but that is how it was built). So the sheep must have come through the hole in the wall into the cemetery and out of the gate into our yard. We successfully herded the sheep back into the cemetery where they made it single file through the hole in the wall back to the pasture.

I was excited of how our family worked together to get the sheep back in. However, I can only imagine what a sight we were. I pray no neighbors happened to see us as we all had unbrushed hair, pajamas and wellies on. But it was a fun way to start the morning and made for a good story to tell when we got to church.

Hi, My name is Barbara and I am a messaholic.

Oh my goodness. I thought moving to a house half the size of our house in the States would be easier. It is easier in the sense that there is not enough room to collect all the junk you don't really need but have. However, it is harder to hide what a mess we make! I so love to have a clean, orderly house. Living in Ireland you never know when someone is going to "call" for tea (or as we say "drop by"). I wish I could say my house looks like a "Southern Living" or "Better Homes and Gardens House. But sometimes, life happens.

Well we have been running for 3 days straight and so you can only imagine what an untouched house looks like in 3 days with a 6 year old, a toddler, and their mama that gets something half done and then off to the next thing. It looked like a corn flakes and scrambled egg bomb had gone off in the kitchen, and I won't describe the rest of the house. I started working on the house this morning as we are on school holiday at the moment. I got so busy that by 11 am no comb had touched my hair and no brush had touched my teeth. I had on what I call my Santa Clause pajama bottoms, with a regular shirt on, and Ludie's shoes on while hanging out the laundry thinking that only the sheep and my kids would be the ones seeing me.

Then it happened. One of my friends pulled in the driveway! Gasp! Oh well, no where to run, no quick change, mouthwash or anything. Well a true friend she is. She helped me finish hanging out the laundry, and came in and waited patiently while I put on regular clean clothes, rapidly brushed my hair and teeth and put on a kettle of water. I have no idea what she thinks of the house or of me, but she was wonderfully pleasant. If she comes around again, I will know that she is a true friend.

PS I came home today with the wind whipping and the rain going sideways. So I took down the laundry off the line and put them in the dryer as my wise friend had taught me, and then proceeded to hang them up on the radiators around the house. I would have left them out but even though the clothes pins are "gale force clothespins" I did not want to have to climb the hedge to pick up my child's underwear out of the sheep field the next morning, that is if the sheep did not eat it before I got to it.