Shingles & WILDfires

Yikes, bad news from the Jones Fam front. Reunion is OFF due to shingles! My bro was ready to leave Scotland today for his sons’ first EVER trip to America, and the boys come down with shingles and CANNOT fly. I am SO disappointed. WWAAAAAAAAA.

Santa Barbara bro has wildfires in the canyon behind his home, and they are awaiting evacuation orders. Sis, in Northern California, has  wildfires not far from her ranch. And they think I live in a dangerous place.

**UPDATE: Bro & Fam have evacuated their home and are staying with a cousin of ours. For those who pray, would you join me? Thanks

Indianapolis Musings

I just love road trips, even with four kids in the car. Especially my kounouz, they are just so full of their own funny outside-in observations of American life. We played the license plate game, but there are a LOT of Stay-cationers out there: we only saw the typical surrounding states in the hundreds of miles we traveled. But since they get excited about squirrels, hawks, cows and of course, cars, it is never a dull moment. 

I mentioned before we are just not seeing too many exotic cars in the Heartland, either. Driving through Valparaiso, Project Boy let out a hoot: “LAMBORGHINI ON THE LEFT!!! LAMBORGHINI GALLARDO”. Spikekid jerked up out of his PSP trance in unbelief “NO WAY!”, then joined in to annouce ”Ferrari behind it!!”. They smashed their faces to the window until those two cars zipped from sight. Wonders never cease, Italian sports cars in Valpo.

Fav personalized plates: MRS BUS, LSNZPL8, and CRZMOM

Fav custom plates: (1) “In God We Trust”. Makes me glad it isn’t illegal to say that in public yet. (2) the Indiana State background of a dandelion on a navy blue background looks just like the Adiga flag.

The road we took must’ve been a northern version of the Bible Belt. I lost count of how many churches, but one name stuck out “Bourbon Bible Church”. Too weird.

We discovered Indiana is home to Garfield and Buddy Holly, and Billy Sunday, a famous preacher.

We also discovered Mapquest is SO yesterday. Friends with a brand new Hyundai Veracruz said “Take our car to Indy”, so we relished the shu kewl extras like TALKING GPS, virtual keys and self-closing trunk.

My new favorite saying: “My soul has had enough chicken soup. GIVE ME CHOCOLATE”.

Why Indy? How weird: five families from hubby’s old church in New Orleans moved to Indy. Every time we come home, we gather for chicory coffee and beignets and reminisce about life twenty-five years ago (yea, you weren’t born yet. But, believe it or not, you’ll be in your mid40s someday too). Additional Indy-bene: blogger Emily, who visited Amman last Summer! Although she didn’t end up marrying Mr. Haddad, she and her mom still love Jordan and she joined us for the gathering. She beautifies any event, that girl. I am trying to get her to apply to teach at the American Community School. (Heh-heh, but I am seeing if perhaps one of my bro-in-laws brothers might make a suitable match, as well. I’d like to have this girl in the fam)

Another fun thing I did in the car: EDITING. No way, you say, especially MommaBean :D.  But I am doing this as a favor for a friend, (not Time Magazine)and have had my stuff slashed and burned often enough that I’ve actually got an eye for unnecessary adjectives. In someone ELSE’S writing, anyway. The blog will suffer through my stream-of-consciousness style. It is a fun exercise.

It’s great to be home. Calm before the 4th of Joooooly storm tomorrow. I’ve been reading the Declaration of Independence for fun these days.

On The Road Again & Abe Lincoln

I just can’t wait to be on the road again! Ya Wayly, ya Waylon!

Except for the packing part. And the trying to keep kids busy. We’re off to Indy, and hope to see blogger Emily! The last time was at Reem Al Bawadi with MommaBean and El 3atal when she was in Amman.

We’ll return to the flurry of family 4th of July activities, then get ready for CALIFORNIA Here I/We Come!!! We are hoping for a West Coast Jordan Blogs Meet-up! Meetcha in Newport!

Quick note that three of our fams caravan-ed over to Springfield yesterday for a six hour intensive, amazing history lesson about the life and times of Abraham Lincoln. WOW. This is what every ex-pat American kid (and mom) needs to appreciate the homeland after living as a pariah. I have some bloggable thoughts, but right now I need to concentrate on counting underwear and making sure bathing suits are packed. 

And counting calories. Man, the scale gave me some VERY bad news, it was confirmed by my capris. God even gave me a major hint in that ALL the magazines at our friend’s tree-top forest home were: issues of HEALTH. All my bad habits there in black and white. Gotta lay off the yummies and start exercising.  Desertmom, Daisy & Rebecca, I hope you are fairing better than I. I hope you do NOT discover deep-fried cheesecake at Longhorn. DO not, I repeat, DO NOT indulge, it is a sin, inspiring the very epitome of gluttony.

I heard the Living Well people are going to publish a ‘Health’ type magazine. I thought “What? How can they find enough stuff to print? Who is going to buy that in Jordan?”. Now I know.

So, to the five readers I still have left, I’ll be gone for a bit but checking in.   

 

A FAMILY Love Story

While I’m on love stories, I have another one. The second weekend we were home, it was EVENT CENTRAL around here. Wow, we were planning, baking and making like nobodies bidness.

What happens when you marry a man who has seven siblings? There are parties ALL the time. You have to have a calendar to remember the birthdays of TWENTY nieces and nephews. It means you can never have an ‘intimate family gathering’, any event is always a semi-controlled mob scene. Sortof like in Jordan, I bet. Waajib, bas waajib helweh. Waajib zaki, bardo. Shu il food, ikteer food, kull il food hawalay buttenni (and but-ni, kamaan).

 Niece Mona had her high school/home school grad party (I’m still eating those home-made cap-n-scroll shaped mints). Sis-in-law Jane is the youngest of six kids, so this event pulled in 60 people alone who were blood relatives. This is the event where a friend was concerned about a Jordanian mom-in-law screeching AAAYEEEEEE AAAHH at the wedding. Jane made six different kinds of COOKIES just for dessert. I won’t even list what the buffet contained, it will send me to the freezer searchingfor the MooseTracks ice cream. (And since I am now officially dieting, I’m not gonna do the MooseTracks Freezer dive) 

Nephew Daniel had an 8th grade/Confirmation party. Bro-in-law Andreas likewise had at least five siblings. This party was a little quieter, as Aunt Maria runs a very tight ship (and all food is very healthy,  organic.  No soda. :O) and the fact that the siblings with lots of kids live in other states. BUT, polite Eagle-Scout-to-be nephew David provided some wild entertainment in getting a water-balloon (organic balloons, too) launcher set up for the kounouz kuzins. They weren’t paying attention where the balloons were coming down, heh-heh, and a wild-eyed neighbor came over livid about a near miss with his head. Oops.   

But as fun as those were, the best event was the remarriage of bro-in-law Peter and his wife Traci. Twelve years ago they were married in a civil ceremony (this doesn’t go over well in Catholic families, I learned then) and had a fairly rocky beginning. Very , very different people these two. Two babies back-to-back put them in re-act rather than pro-act mode. His work as a policeman was stressful. She was young. Things just got worse, and the winter I came home with the kids for the war they decided to seperate. 

Peter decided he could confide in me, since I was an ‘outsider’; and someone who could understand his pain from my own experience. I tried to counsel him well, encourage him, and point him to God again. He made that choice, began to go to our church, and really grew as a believer. His heart was broken, but his spirit was being strengthened. I still believe God brought us home for them, just to be able to invest in him at a crucial time (And for me to see how very very bad the American public school system is, from experience).

He was changing, Traci was in other ways. He was a tough-guy cop, but found his heart underneath the callouses. She had some things she needed to do for her own growth, they both had things to change; like we all do. She saw the changes in him, and was changing herself as she took steps toward growth. Aunt Jane had an open home to the girls as Peter and Traci worked through consequences. Peter was amazing me with his spiritual maturity, and with it he was drawing Traci home again.   

Two years ago, they were working with our pastor in counseling to lay a new foundation for marriage. Skeeter was astounded at the changes in his ‘little’ brother, and the gifts and talents emerging. It changed the way their relationship had always been, there was a new love and respect between them.  We actually sat together as families at church, Lil Kinz and their daughters would hold hands and skip to Sunday School together. Made me wanna cry.

When their mom died, Skeeter told me Peter mentioned there was going to be a reconfirming of their marriage vows in March. We were SO excited for them, but sad to miss it. Thanks to delays in selling houses and the purchase of their new family HOME, the ceremony was delayed until we got there. 

It was a simple and beautiful ceremony. The girls were flower-girl/ring bearers. The message, given by the man who had counseled them and probably knows them better than any of us, just allowed us to be a part of a sweet and intimate re-affirmation of the vows they had made in a civil court more than a decade ago. This time, they made them as a promise to the God who had given them the strength to salvage what was broken and work a miracle through their sacrificial obedience to His will.

They are a new couple, as much as new individual creations. The peace, joy and contentment was evident that day and remains so. The girls are so happy, God answered prayers lifted without much hope for an outcome like this!

Peter and Traci, we stand in awe of God’s power to resurrect that which was dead. We are amazed that you both choose a much harder path in reconciliation, and took it slowly enough to make sure a new foundation was laid. You two didn’t just choose to tolerate each other for the ’sake of the children’, but chose to give those sweet little ladies the best gift of all: a mommy and daddy who love and respect each other deeply. Most of all, we are humbled by how you chose to obey God’s word and pursue it when you both were dying inside, and allowed Him to bring beauty from ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.

You will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified (Isaiah 61). Grow tall and spread wide. We love you!

I LOVE A Love Story!!

WAHOO!! I just got off the phone with an old workmate, a gal who made my then-job in human resources a tremendous joy. We would spend our lunch hour praying and talking, and fasting together. Anne is a God-fearer/lover, intelligent, witty, drop-dead gorgeous with the perfect shape. Why she was not snapped up at 25 can only be the restraint of Almighty God for a Better Plan. She was the #2 on my list of match-making list forEVER. Yesterday, when I got her email, I got to drop her from that list!!!

We lost track of one another for six years. When she turned 40, Anne said she finally embraced that her reality was singleness. She intentionally fought the mental habit of anticipating: “Today may be the day I meet HIM”. She chronicled the event in her journal, a landmark day of submission to a severe mercy of God. Four years ago, a friend asked her if she could give Anne’s number to a man from her church who was interested in meeting a woman to marry, not just play with. In spite of the bad rep, in my circle of Christian friends we just don’t ‘date’. It’s more like intentional courtship, with no under-clavicle physical involvement until The Day.

Anne figured, ‘why not’?', and was pleased that the old familiar ‘what if?’ didn’t fill her thoughts. He called her, and after five hours of talking, she had a first time ever certainty of “Oh my sweet Lord, he is the man”. They skipped the chit-chat about favorite foods and went right into the core issues of what marriage would look like. He had already heard enough about her to be sure.

Dave lost his wife to a brain aneurysm a week after she gave birth to their fourth child.

The same day Anne gave up marriage and embraced the reality of her singleness.

Oh, shivers.

My friend Anne went from being Miss Successful Business City Woman to Mrs. Ecstatic Rural Home Schooling Mother of four mommy-less children. She could be another Pioneer Woman. Heh-heh, her hubby is enjoying her unique energy.

I cried when I heard her little girl call her mommy. God is good, all the time,

Thunder And Lightening, Oh Yea!

We woke up last night at 1am to the sight and sound of the closest thunder-n-lightening I have ever experienced. It lit up the whole bedroom and flashed simultaneously with a house-shaking boom. Whew, adrenaline rush rare shickle. In the next moment, sheets of rain came down like rivers from heaven. (This title comes from an 80s disco song that popped into my head). It was like a heavy-bass lullaby, with the cymbal-like crash of thunder punctuating the beat.

I can’t get over the amount of rain here. This storm will send another surge of sand-bagging volunteers west to the Mississippi. The rain here is delaying crop growth, so all the farming types (as well as many other folk) are heading over to help save other farmer’s crops. My farmer bro-in-law Greg says it is it a very bad thing for world-wide food prices in light of so much more corn used for ethanol, and Australia’s drought. So much for snacking on bushaar this winter. So much for feeding the truly impoverished, who will again pay the price for our petroleum-propelled world economy.

Lil Kinz and I breakfasted in the screened-in porch, listening to the pouring rain on a million leaves, and the sounds of many types of birds sigin’ in the rain. There is a stray peacock flying around the area we are in the look out for: the kounouz know the screech of a peacock thanks to the bunch that live in my sister’s ranch in California. Lil Kinz is looking forward to hunting peacock feathers. If there arent’ enough lying around, my sis will pull some prematurely from their behinds. Don’t tell.

In that magical, wet, jungle woodland, I continued to work through my study on the life of King David, being warned by his failures as a leader and a father; being encouraged by his confidence in God’s mercy to keep coming back when he blew it. But, although forgiven, the damage was done and consequences in motion that would span generations. His life reached it’s pinnacle, and it is sad and hard to stay in the story as the downward spiral continues. Lord God, help me to finish well, chill my heart when I stray off Your path, pull me back from seemingly small choices that could have disastrous consequences. Help me to hear Your voice in the whisper of the wind, as well as the crash of thunder.

 

 

  

Yet More Observations

1) Can’t find my fav soda, Diet Rite, anywhere. Boo-hoo

2) While searching for Diet Rite at a big wholesale place, got Post cereal 5 for $10 then TWO coupons for free half gallons of milk. Aunt Jane knows where all the deals are.

3) Project Boy in Jordan: “Mom, there’s nothing for breakfast”. Mom: “Honey, when we’re at Aunt Jane’s, there will be twenty-five different kinds of cereal to choose from. Eat your khubz and jam”. Project Boy after one week in America: “Mom, there’s nothing for breakfast”. Sigh.

4) Gourmet Hummous is ghastly bad.

5) Hometown Buffet on Sunday:

9:30am: Catholic ladies with pastel sweatshirts and sensible shoes come in after early Mass.

10:30am Lutheran and Methodists arrive in polo shirts and khaki trousers and crocs.

11:00am Baptists in dresses & ties and Evangelicals in skirts & more khakis and ALL their kids arrive (kids in Old Navy). Controlled, colorful smart-casual mayhem.

12:00pm White Assemblies of God breeze in with pastel suits and navy suits. Smart- business, mayhem exceeds control.

2:00pm Black Assemblies of God take the red carpet show with furs, satin, heels, matching hats, white suits with red shoes and hats, little boys in tuxedos and little girls in tulle and gloves. Out of control fun.

1:00pm is my favorite time to be at Hometown, so I can enjoy church people-watching .

6) Lil Kinz’ fav new shirt: “Will trade brother for pony”

7) The shirt Spikekid was NOT allowed to buy “Annoying Sister For Sale”.

The shirt I got Spikekid and dared him to wear: “My Mom Rocks”. It was on 75% off at Kohls, the only style at 75% off. Are there that few rockin’ moms in Illinois?

9) Did I tell you Spikekid is now within an inch of my height? I can still beat him arm-wrestling though.

Live Blogging From … Heaven

We are house-sitting for friends right now in a breathtakingly beautiful place.  A lovely home with a pool, surrounded by wild wooded hills untouched by humanity; so far removed our cell-phones don’t even work! Deer roam as commonly as cars. Foxes, opossums and raccoons emerge from the thick forest to see whats up. I woke up this morning to see the sunshine streaming through the tree-tops off the master balcony, the light reflecting every imaginable shade of green on the leaves. What a way to wake-up, overwhelmed by the handiwork of the Master. His workmanship, untouched by human landscape architects, is a far superior picture. I took my coffee into the screened porch with my Bible, and worshipped.

We had Uncle Luke, Aunt Jane and the Kounouz Kuzins over for BBQ and a swim last night. Heh-heh, you’d think we need a break from one another. Tonight, tho, Aunt Julie and her three girls arrive for the yearly summer pilgrimmage; perhaps eleven kids could put us over the top, so the house-sitting op seems a good thing for teh first week. The kids were SO cute, ages 6-18, noisily playing and making memories that will last a lifetime. Hubby and his bro (they are #1 & #2 in the fam, very close brothers) male-communed in silence over the Weber, Aunt Jane and I talked about the Middle East and I told her all about what I had learned from bloggers this year.

Poison ivy is the only reminder we live in a fallen world. It is everywhere in the woods and will hinder forest crashing play-time. I think we’ll just bundle them up in long everything and risk it.

Oh yea, another reminder: our friends discovered that down the street is a registered sex offender. Horrified they were.  Predators in our midst, like the coyotes I heard howling last night, remind me that evil is alive and well, and often plots destruction when we least expect it. An enemy bent on stealing the innocence of trusting children for his (or her, sometimes) own selfish gratification. Lord Almighty, protect our children I pray, from the  enemy that prowls like a lion, seeking who he many devour, even in a place that looks like paradise.

I’m Luvin’ The Simple Life

Some may say living with another family of six is anything but simple, but Aunt Jane and all occupants of this home are still enjoying the ‘commune’ experience a month on! I was talking to Aunt Jessica, my California brother’s wife, and I can hear her shake her head over the phone wondering how we pull it off. California is SUCH a different world. But in the country, life is just simpler.

Dinner time can get wild, tonight was especially so since I seriously miscalculated how many boxes of spaghetti noodles to cook. Did I tell you we have FIVE teenagers in the house? Masha’allah can they eat. Aunt Jane and the girls had been at a wedding shower, then a friend of hers came over to chat (conveniently interrupting my attempt to scrub down the bathroom), so I got supper going: left-overs + spaghetti and salad. All eight kids sit at the big table, and it gets a LEEEETLE ker-azy. Thankfully, Big Kounouz Kuzins don’t let Lil Kinz and Project Boy get away with anything, and are very good at getting them to finish. Us adults retreat to the living room to dine in peace. Aaaahhhh.

Laundry can be an issue. Those machines are working daily, and we got over being embarrassed over handling one anothers loads long ago. I know to hang up Uncle Luke’s shirts to keep them from needing a serious ironing job, the girls throw me kounouz socks that get stuck to their stuff. After cleaning up breakfast, we ladies gather round the kitchen table and fold. And fold. And fold; ad infinitum. But even here, I am continually either collecting the dirty stuff, folding the clean stuff, or putting away the folded stuff.

I have about ten mental posts about the amazing phenomenon of American Ingenuity. There is just way too much creative energy flowing here, things are always being improved upon or new ideas created from thin air. With gas prices skimming $4.05, people are out and about walking more, much more visible and less enclosed in cars. Moms take kids for rides on bikes to the grocery store (Mr. Finance Uncle Luke has always ridden his bike to work) and pull carts full of groceries. Families are taking “Staycations” enjoying the sites closer to home that can be seen in a day: cool places that have been overlooked on the way to destination resorts. Kids are out on the lawns rediscovering water guns and sprinklers. On our street, there several moms who haul their laptops out and work while they watch the kids play.

Several people have asked if we are affected by the flooding, and I am glad to say we aren’t. But because we aren’t, the folks here were spending weekends and taking time off work to go sandbag in farm areas that were affected.  Churches empty into vans on Sundays instead of heading home for roast and a nap. I am amazed by the community spirit of small towns like this one. Recently a man who is quadraplegic from Uncle Luke and Aunt Jane’s church needed a new van and some serious home repairs. The parish organized an event to honor him, and Aunt Jane and the girls spent a whole morning baking huge cookies and brownies frosted like his fav baseball team logo to sell at the bake sale. I think the event netted $40,000 from selling one cookie at a time, no big one-time donors.   

The local Dairy Queen had a special Father’s Day offer of a small sundae for all fathers. How cool and small-townish is that? Of course all the dads brought their whole families so business was brisk, and we saw four families we know. You don’t go anywhere without seeing someone you know, and stopping and chatting. Really talking too, not just the ‘fine’ business.   I swear these folks must have Arab roots somewhere…or this is how an agrarian society operated.

CORN. One of my favorite things to do is watch the corn grow. It has been such a cold wet spring that the corn was NOT knee-high when we arrived. Toe-high, maybe, seriously growth-retarded. I despaired of eating corn fresh off the field (like, picked two hours ago), but it is catching up now. We were hoping Spikekid could earn some money de-tasseling corn this summer, but travels to California interrupted the idea. BUT, now with a later harvest, it just may work.

De-tasseling corn: something I should have added to the: What Every Person Should Do Before They Turn 18 post. Very good for character :D.

     

Jesus Camp and Pentecostalism (2)

The two women who undertook this project seemed to know the Pentecostalism is a wing of Evangelicalism, but didn’t seem to have a problem with giving the impression that the practices seen at the definitely Pentecostal Christ Triumphal Church are typical to all Evangelicals. Not so. Pentecostals identify themselves as such by name in order to differentiate themselves from Evangelicals. I tried looking up statistics for what percentage of Evangelicals are Pentecostal, and failed to find the research to back-up the figure of 12.3%.

I’m going to explain a bit about it so you can know where Christ Triumphal Church is coming from, and how they are not mainstream Evangelicals as the producers of Jesus Camp would want you to conclude. Each church is different, I have never been to one like like this.

Pentecostals hold to all the basic tenants of Christianity, but believe that after coming to faith in Christ,  that there is a second baptism, called Baptism of the Holy Spirit, where the Holy Spirit indwells a believer in a special way and sometimes proof of this baptism will be persons ability to speak in tongues (either a known human language to share the gospel [rare but real: I know three people who have unknowingly spoken in a language they did not know in order to share the gospel] or a ‘prayer language’ which is what was shown in the Jesus Camp. Some Pentecostals believe that those who don’t have this second experience are missing an integral element of their faith, or worse, that the person is not a true believer. They believe that all the miracles done by Jesus and the disciples should be a regular part of a believers life today. There is another, less ‘wild’ version, called “Charismatics”, who believe tongues are for today but are not the only proof of the Holy Spirit’s work of sanctification. Like most Evangelicals, it is evidence of the ‘fruit of the spirit’ that proves faith: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness and self-control. 

Many Evangelicals follow the dispensational line of thinking, that the miracles of Jesus time were a dispensation of grace that were for that time only (Dispensationalism is where some roots of hyper-Zionism, “Evangelical-style”, are found. I will not be touching that one in this series). Some Evangelicals believe that anyone who speaks in tongues is deceived.   

Just so you now where I am coming from, I found Jesus Christ as a 20 year old, alcohol and drug-abusing immoral pagan. It was a Charismatic Christian who loved me enough to see my value through my junk. I had been to Baptist and Presbyterian churches before, and been looked down on for my lifestyle choices (much like the Muslim doctor who figured telling me how bad I was would draw me to repentance).

God did give me the gift of tongues, and of healing. Before that, someone once tried to teach me how to speak in tongues (lol, she said: “Just say “Hallelujah” over and over”. What God did was so much more than that). Neither gift is a huge part of my spiritual journey, both gifts bring blessing but Jesus is my all in all. Some of my Pentecostal friends chide me for not speaking in tongues enough. I’d rather pray with understanding.  SO, that confessed, do I seem that weird to you? I don’t blog in tongues, obviously. I do lay hands on people regularly for healing; but no matter who is involved or how gifted, God doesn’t always chose to heal. He does it, not the hands. The beggars that used to come to my door for money for medicine now come for healing prayer with their sick kids. More often now, healing prayer is for hearts and minds rather than bodies.

So…”Jesus Camp” is not about the common practices of Evangelicalism, but Pentecostalism. Pentecostalism is a strong, growing, vibrant wing of the Evangelical church brotherhood. It is the fastest growing denomination of Christianity outside the US. 

You would NEVER see what happened at the Christ Triumphal kid’s camp going on in an Evangelical kid’s camp. I will write more about what you would see later.

Also, what was NOT wrong, about what was said and done at Christ Triumphal, and why.