“Wherever you are, be all there.”

Jim Eliot said that.
"Wherever you are, be all there."

I'm here.
Back in Indiana. Hiding away in my basement cave, trying to focus and get through the next week of projects, papers and journals. It's hard to be all here.

My heart is in so many places right now. It's in the living room with my family. It's in Chicago with my Grandma. It's in Winona Lake with Zach and the rest of the tribe.

It's in Mongolia with my friends, co-workers, and students.

"Wherever you are, be all there."

I'm struggling with this. I've been going at a pace so fast that I do not really know where I am right now. I just want to sit. I want to ponder, to recollect, to inspect the treasures stored away in my heart.

I want to light a fire and watch it burn. (This might be difficult, since I don't have a fireplace.) I want to sit with coco in hand and trade stories--stories of adventure, growth and change.

I'm not sure if this post is an invitation or an apology, but I'm going to make it into an invitation.

When I see you next--when I emerge from my academic hermit cave--let's talk. Because, that is where I want to be--in fellowship with you.

Community: come in and stay for tea.

Our schedule forced us out of the church doors before the tea was even poured today.
Leaving before tea felt like the equivalent of eating and running.

"Hi, family. Thanks for the food, gotta run, love ya, bye."

It felt so wrong--and I think that means I'm learning.

Learning that being the Church is less about theory and sermons and more about the everyday moments, the common interactions, the breaking of bread, the sharing of tea--so to speak.

So, let's come.

Come to the table, and linger long. Stay until the last drop of tea is finished.

"We loved you so much that we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us." 1 Thessalonians 2:8

(beauty)

Some days, I get lost in the smog, in the chaos, in the tension.
Help me to remember the beauty.

"Greater things are yet to come; greater things are still to be done in this city."

Shoes of Peace

"and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace."

As I walked through some anxiety this past week, I clung to the prayer of Charles, one of my missionary dads--"Help Caitlin to walk in the gospel of peace."

There are so many things that I cannot control. I'm learning to live with caution in a way that I have not needed to while living in the utopia which is Winona Lake. But I am also learning to walk in peace--to recognize that I have peace, because I am in Christ.

Each step that I take, I take in the peace of knowing that I'm following Christ--in my dusty, dirty, shoes of peace.

Welcome to the family...(Mongolia week 9)

I knew going into this that my inability to speak Mongolian would make life a bit more challenging. However, until I lived here for a while, I had no idea how isolating and at times intimidating a lack of language knowledge could feel.

Riding the bus, purchasing groceries, everyday interactions, classroom management--all become more confusing due to my small knowledge of Mongolian.

The one place where I feel at home, despite my lack of Mongolian, is the church. While in other places I feel like a foreign target, in church I feel like I'm just the blonde member of a dark haired family. The odd one out for sure, but still a part of the family.

When I meet with my church family, I feel at ease. The tension that I carry around with me disappears.

Welcome to the family, Caitlin. Worship, learn, fellowship with us. Sit down, drink tea, share life with us.

Welcome home.

This is what it means to be the body of Christ--the family of God.

Love breaks through the language barrier.

Shout out for Grandma

This post is mainly for my AWESOME Grandma, who has sent me a card and coffee money every semester since the beginning of college. This semester was no exception!

I am so thankful for her--for her courage, faithfulness and love.
I hope I'm just like her when I grow up. :)

“One can always spot a foreigner by the dirt on their shoes.”

I try. I try so hard to keep clean. To brush off every speck of dusty, fine, Ulaanbaatar dirt.

It’s a losing battle. By the time I reach my destination, all my efforts are for naught.

No good Mongolian would be caught dead in these shoes.

But, try as hard as I might, I will never be a good Mongolian.

I will always struggle to keep these shoes clean.

I will misread the bus signs, and end up on the edge of town

Hopelessly lost.

I will always be the odd one on the bus.

Which one of these is not like the other? The foreigner, who, unable to maintain balance just crashed into you as the bus made a sudden stop.

I will wait hesitantly to cross the street—hoping for someone more aggressive than I to lead the way.

I will often forget that coffee-to-go is a Western concept, and I will forget to sit down and enjoy rest from the busyness of life.

I will make laughable efforts at pronouncing your name correctly, but I won't give up trying to learn your name.

And, I will pray that you’ll forgive my mistakes...all of them.

Hello, October. (I've been here for a month now?!)

This week nothing really went as planned. And as much as I would like to say that flexibility and adaptability are my top strengths, to be honest, I really struggled this week. I’m glad it’s over.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ, and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him…

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life…

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.

(2 Corinthians 2 and 3)

These truths are becoming more real to me each day, as I prepare my lessons, as I open the door and begin a class, as I lie in bed wondering if I have what it takes for the next day of classes.

I'm clinging to these truths...and these smiles

For those of you who were praying for my classes on Friday, thank you! We actually were not able to continue the conversation from earlier in the week, because all of the students just finished English placement tests and have been placed in different groups based on language skills.

So I’m starting fresh this month--starting fresh with new groups, new materials, and hopefully a new confidence.

Here we go, OCTOBER! :)

This wasn't in the manual...(Scenes from 11th Grade)

We finished talking about love today, and moved onto beliefs.

Teacher, let's talk about belief!

Ok. What do you believe in, class?

I believe in family.
I believe that everyone is here for a reason.
I believe in the Shaman.
I believe in my friends.
I believe in Jesus.
I believe in trust.
I believe in Chingis Khan.
I believe in Allah.
I believe in Satan.

And then the bell rings.

I don't really know what else to say. Class ended; they are writing short essays on what they believe. I'm excited and terrified. Once again, the potential here is so great, but I feel so inadequate. Pray for us. We continue our discussion on Friday.

(Mongolia week 4)

"The harvest here is indeed great, and the labourers are few, and imperfectly fitted without much grace for such a work. And yet grace can make the few and feeble instruments the means of accomplishing great things--things greater than we can even conceive."
--Hudson Taylor, A Retrospect

Why write a blog post, when Hudson Taylor already said everything you want to say? Imperfectly fitted and feeble--this is how I have felt a lot while adjusting to this new role as a teacher. But, "grace can make the few and feeble instruments the means of accomplishing great things..." and it's a beautiful thing to watch and experience.

Every day at Oyunii Tuv is an adventure. If I told you everything, this would be a book rather than a blog post. (Ok, Connor if you are reading this, I promise...I will start working on that book...) One of the highlights of this week was guiding the 11th grade class through a discussion on love. One of my students, Jackson (he calls himself Jackson because of Michael Jackson) asked me if "Love is everything," which then started a great debate with his classmates. From what we have discussed in class, I believe the question can be better understood when rephrased, "Can you live without love?" One side believes that love is everything, because it is a part of all we do. The other side (my little pragmatics) feels that love can't be everything, because it can't give you material things, or status.

We have now spent 1 and a half class periods examining this question, and will finish the conversation on Monday. I loved watching the pragmatics and saps have at it...and it's pretty amazing to me that we are having such a deep, theoretical discussion in a language that is not their own (Especially since we had such a rocky beginning).

I'm excited that I get watch them grow, and feel blessed to be their teacher--the hard days are worth it.

Thank you for praying, and please continue!

“Teacher, what do you love about Mongolia?” (Week 3)

He probably didn’t know that this was not a great day to ask me what I love about Mongolia. He probably didn’t know that I had to force myself to walk out of my sanctuary, my apartment, and self counsel myself all the way through the bus trip to his school. He probably didn’t know that last night I seriously doubted I could handle being in his classroom today. And, he probably still doesn’t know that our 40 minutes of class conversation cemented in my mind and heart that I’m going to make it, and that we are going to learn together.

So, he asked me, “Teacher, what do you love about Mongolia?”

I love the people, especially the kids…beautiful lives, I wish I knew all their stories.

I love the potential for growth here. The church is celebrating its 20^th anniversary this weekend…20 years ago Mongolia was a much different place, and still today Mongolians are deciding what it means to be Mongolian, and for some, what it means to be the church. A student today was telling me her reason for wanting to learn English, and she included the thought, “It seems that Mongolia is behind the other countries…we are late in learning English.” I wouldn’t say that Mongolia is late—but it is definitely at a far different place than where I come from.

I love that my students have big dreams—and that in some small way, I have the privilege of helping them accomplish these dreams. I would love to one day see that Shur Erdene has accomplished her future goal of being #1 world’s best doctor, for Dulguun to become the president, for Enkhtsetseg to be a good mom.

I love that I’m being stretched, and that I can see God at work here…in me, in the church of Mongolia, in the people, in the missionaries.

I love that when I felt like giving up, Jackson pulled me back to the truths that I had forgotten. I am privileged to be here, and do love Mongolia.

He picked the best day to ask, “Teacher, what do you love about Mongolia?”

I am a teacher; I am a student (Mongolia week one).

(I am a teacher. I am a student.)

I have received many requests for a blog post...so here it is!I have been here in Ulaanbaatar for less than a week, and I think I'm still adjusting to the time difference, because I once again was up at 6 this morning. Ah well, this too shall pass. :)

This week has been one of the most humbling weeks of my life. Learning a new language and culture and city has required a lot of assistance, and a lot of patience...and a lot of admitting that I'm totally lost. It's all part of the adventure though, and I am honestly glad to be at square one here. The need for help is a good place to be when trying to form new relationships, I have found.

Yesterday was the first day of school for the school kids of Mongolia (yep, national first day of school...love it!) I was able to take part in the opening day ceremony of the school at which I will be teaching. The ceremony included speeches from the principal and senior class rep., performances by different students, and a presentation of gifts from the students to the teachers (the flower in the picture above was a gift to me from a student). That's right. I'm now a teacher...and I couldn't be more excited! The school is a small private k-12 school, run mostly by volunteers (from what I've gathered). I will be spending time with the students, reviewing what they have learned from their official English teacher and encouraging them to use their English skills in conversation (from what I've gathered...the details are still yet to be determined...and I'm ok with that!)

Yesterday I also began my "survival course" in the Mongolian language school located in the same building as the organization I am working with. My class will be eight 3hr sessions...it's a lot to cram into 3 hours. My teacher is very patient, however, and I am once again being taught humility...as I'm sure my handwriting looks like that of a 6 year old...and my "voiced lateral fricative" is awful.

Two main thoughts have kept me going as I've been working on my language homework. One--the little first grader who wanted to converse with me and told my friend to tell me to speak Mongolian, and two--Philippians 2...the ultimate example of humility and sacrificial incarnation. Somehow in a small way, I think learning a new language, and learning a new life style fit in with the calling to have the same mind as Christ.

There are many more stories that I could tell, but you'll just have to hear them when I return :)

"It ain't gonna be pretty/But you're not alone..."

In all the goings on this week, this month, and this year, I keep coming back to the same paradox--the call to maintain a heart full of hope in a world full of pain and brokenness. In my head I know that life is not hopeless, that there is a greater purpose, that there will eventually be healing for the broken and rest for the weary. In my heart I feel that sometimes life is trudging through one trial after another, one unfortunate event after the next.

There is so much that I don't understand. So many problems that I can't fix. So many hurting people whom I can't heal. I am tired--tired of brokenness, tired of confusion, tired of trudging, tired of feeling guilty for being tired.

And then ...I was reminded today that I am not the only one who is broken. I am not alone in this struggle.

It may be unorthodox, but Over the Rhine helped me a bit today. Actually, I should say that I believe that ultimately, God is helping me process this paradox...but today's processing was aided by Over the Rhine. I could keep writing in an effort to explain what went through my mind as I listened to this song and realized what was actually being communicated through the song. I think I'm just going to post the song and let you listen to it. It is beautiful.
"All My Favorite People"--Over the Rhine


Still learning to hope,
Caitlin

The Long Surrender and the Road Less Traveled

The Long Surrender--not only is it a beautiful album by Over the Rhine (please give it a listen, you won't regret it! Seriously, it's going to be on repeat in my room for the next 788 days...it's that good!) but it's also where I've been and where I'm going. The path of surrender has taken me down a rather circuitous route, and today as I am preparing to make what feels like a pretty crazy decision I am both confused and at peace. I hope to one day look back on this journey and be able to recognize the purpose of each detour--to see how each road block equipped me for the next--the next step, the next path, or sometimes the next road block.

Until I arrive at the point of understanding, I'll keep moving forward.

Today, it's the long surrender, the road less traveled, and possibly Mongolia for me.

From Scratch: True Confessions of an Overly-Invested Gardener

There's a lot of seeds for posts germinating in my mind these days. Summer has the tendency to do that to me. So many possibilities, and so many different directions for my mind to wander...so many different thoughts and adventures I'm often unsure what to do with myself! It's a beautiful, beautiful problem to have.

Today I am half inspired herb gardener, half organization freak. Since I'm sure you don't want to read about my organizational woes, let me tell you about the herbs!

I am really into starting things from scratch. It's one of my favorite obsessions. If I can do it myself, I'm going to do it myself! For example, one year I started a sourdough starter from scratch and then had tons of fun finding sourdough recipes to use throughout the year. For those of you who don't know what it means to start a starter...well, let's just say it involved yeast and pineapple juice and flour and daily "feedings." That should give you an idea of how crazy I am about starting from square one. Seriously, if I could figure out a feasible way to make my own yarn, I would be the happiest person ever right now. (I know, I could start raising sheep...but that's a whole new level of starting from scratch, and I don't really want to go there.)

This year Zach and I celebrated two years of Zach and Caitlinishness. I knew exactly what I wanted to give him to commemorate this awesome feat--an herb garden! Now, growing things is a bit outside of my normal operating procedure. My roommates and I have an African violet, which my responsible roommate typically cares for, while I check it for dampness about every other week. So despite my lack of experience, I planted the tiny seeds in tiny pots and set them in the tiny greenhouse, hoping and praying that love would win and that herbs would grow. AND GROW THEY DID! I have never felt so excited about plants in my entire life.

Caring for these herbs has been a journey. I handed them over to Zach on our anniversary, and gave him pretty detailed instructions but still feared that they would die. They didn't die and are now back in my loving care while Zach is busy doing journalist things this summer. I am a little bit overly invested in these plants. If they don't make it through the summer, I am not sure what I am going to do with myself. My goal is to see these plants flourishing by the end of the summer. If I accomplish this, I will be one happy girl.

If I myself am flourishing by the end of the summer, I will be ecstatic.

So here's to summer, to possibilities, to starting from scratch, and to growing--one of the most exciting processes to watch and to endure!

Worshiping through Brokenness

You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it;
you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings.
My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise.
-Ps. 51:16-17

A New Word

At the beginning of this year, I selected devotion as the word by which I wanted this year to be defined. While I still am excited about learning and discovering what a truly devoted life entails, the past few weeks have been defined by something else; I am learning the beauty of hope. Hope has been at times my anchor, and at other times my seemingly unattainable goal. I gave up on hope earlier this week, saying, “Every time I hope for the best, the worst happens anyway.” But hope has held on to me. I know that whatever comes in the days ahead, there will still be hope. And that, dear friends, is enough reason to stay on this journey of devotion.

^“ Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.” –Romans 5:1-5

2 Years

I'm so amazed and thankful for what God has done in us over the past two years
For how we've grown
For who we're becoming
For how me makes me laugh when I'm crying
For the crazy oddities that make us...us
(Including dinner/documentary dates, and "teach Caitlin everything about the Cold War dates")
For my best friend
For the journey ahead...
And for many, many other things!
I. Love. Us.

Praying Prayers You've Already Answered

The other night I had a rather emotional conversation with God, which ended with me saying, “God, unless you send someone who completely understands where I am right now, I am not going to be able to make it.”

I awoke the next morning to find these verses stuck to my mirror:

“Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” –Heb. 4:14-16

How quickly I forget what I already have in Christ…

How thankful I am that God listens, despite my forgetful heart.