I love...

I love my mom.

Mom recently came to visit and other than our important coffee breaks and much needed catching up, I am most grateful for her new experiences in "my" country. She may not have caught the travel bug, but I found that she responds to unexpected adventures the same way I do. After she left for home, an email arrived in my inbox; Mom was stuck in Japan due to the FedEx crash. When she finally got home, after 36+ hours of travel, she informed me that she had a fun time with her new friend Lucy from New York, stayed in a swanky hotel, and ate some great Japanese food. I'm happy to have inherited her "go-with-the-flow, adventure awaits!" gene.

I love these brownies and the friends who appreciated the method of their delivery (carefully placed in ziplock bags and then in recycled granola bar boxes so as not to get squashed on the bike ride to the party).
I love Thai soup (and winning the cooking game with myself.)

I tried something new today and it (sort of) worked out. I have a weird tendency to ignore ingredients and instructions in recipes and usually end up eating something that is more purple, crunchy, or _______(insert descriptive food word here) than it is supposed to be. But today...fish sauce, prawns, and lime juice were not as important as one might think! My first attempt at Tom Yum Goong, minus the goong, turned out to be quite tasty. Yay for me!

I love this soup because: 1. It tastes like nothing else. It's SOOO good that while in Thailand, I ate it at least once a day 2. The broth is made from lemongrass, garamond, and prawn heads and shells, which you have to pick out meticulously before eating. My ritual was to pick out all the pieces of crap before I could eat the soup (this was also to save my tongue, as they serve it scorching hot).

I love her.

Rosa always finds a way to love me during the day, usually while I'm on the computer. I've tried to capture her snuggling because I'm really the only one that ever sees it and today she finally let me take her picture. She nestles her head on my shoulder and purrs, just enough to let me know she's happy. It doesn't matter that she's a cat; love is love and everyone needs it.

Particle Physics or Providence?

I'm currently debating whether to start my new bible study homework or work on tomorrow's lesson plans; both promise to unveil the origins of the universe. One would be learning about providence and the other an act of trusting that providence.

I've recently been inspired by a new city, a new blog, and a new bible study. I like them because they inspire me to learn more. A friend of a friend has a tattoo on his ankle that says in Latin, I am still learning. It reminds me that its ok to take time to process information, to make connections years later, and to continue to learn about yourself and the world. Maybe this is why I'm still learning about particle physics; I didn't quite get it the first time. Maybe this is why I'm still learning about God's providence; I didn't fully understand the first time, or the second time, or any of the times...but that's ok. After all, I am still learning.

For Lunar New Year, 8 of us went to Hiroshima where the first atomic bomb used in warfare was dropped. It was a place of great sadness, greif, destruction, and hope. Usually when a city or country is attacked brutally and seemingly unfairly (a large percent of the casualties were children, no warning, etc) the natural reaction is to "Get 'em back! Revenge!" The response from the Japanese people was much different. Of course they surrendered, I'm sure they didn't have much of a choice. But they did have a choice to change their hearts and make something good out of something really really crappy. They could have vowed to get back at the US, could have fostered feelings of hate...there are a lot of things they could have done in the aftermath of evil. Instead they chose to turn the other cheek; they chose peace. They strongly felt and still feel that evil repayed with more evil is not OK. There is no political point or pointing fingers here, I simply feel a miracle present when people can take their personal pain and grief and turn it into hope for the rest of the world. Amazing.

The museum and monuments were hard to digest and the trip could have easily been overwhelming, but 7 of my girlfriends were present. It was chaotic and fun and most of our time was spent eating, laughing, or trying to make sure no one wandered off...you can see in the picture above how focused we were....

Particle physics won tonight. I am ready to teach about leptons and quarks and even a few bosons and ferimons. It may have taught me a lesson in providence though. I've recently been plagued with the nesting urge, now stronger than usual. Many thoughts run through my head like, How great would it be to quit my job, have some babies and spend my days knitting and cooking! Then I read a chapter about force carrier particles and antimatter and my heart skips a beat...maybe God wants me to teach awhile longer. Maybe I have more purpose to fulfill in this role...Rosa, on the other hand, doesn't care much about these things and thinks it's time to go to bed and uses all methods to convince me to stop, at least for tonight.


Particle physics and providence will both be on my mind this week. Maybe they shouldn't be looked upon as completely seperate ideas in my life. Rosa has no comment. It's bedtime.

stuck in the middle

As an instinctive peacemaker who hates conflict, I have often taken the place of the mediator in my family, in groups of friends, in the classroom, and in the locker room of a dramatic 9th grade girls basketball team. I am beginning to feel that God has been preparing me to be a mediator for Him in those same areas, but I don't feel ready yet. Isn't that what He's all about, though?

God loves to throw us into the fridge to show us that we WILL find a way out before we freeze to death. Its dark when the fridge door closes, but we know what it looks like; we know how many shelves are in there, how many half used bottles of ketchup and salad dressing are in the door. We even know how to maneuver to avoid the month old container of moldy soup. We can manage. Our biggest problem is our fear and panic because we refuse to sit still for a minute, take a different perspective, and trust that whomever threw us in there believes we are smart enough to get out. He knows we can handle it and even left some cheese, extra potato salad, and a coke to give us a boost.

It just seems lately that I'm allergic to the "cheese" left in my "fridge". This is funny to those of you who know that I am nearly allergic to dairy. My figurative cheese is giving me a literal stomach ache.


What if the things I've been provided with here won't last or stand up to whatever is waiting for me back home? I'm unsure I'll be able to kick the door open in enough time before becoming an apathetic ice woman. Just watching the news is overwhelming enough to send me to bed. I'm not depressed, I'm not even discouraged. It is just fear of the fridge, which can sometimes be pretty powerful. Then Rosa reminds me to look at my pretty Christmas tree and get over it, it's Christmas. (She is very pleased with the festive decorations this year). "I mean, really," she says, "Jesus was born in a barn; you can at least muster up some hope and a little faith." She's pretty smart, for a cat.


I think I'll take her advice and just keep walking in the middle and enjoy Christmas.

Korean Physical Therapy

(The beautiful birthday bike ride that I couldn't go on because of my stupid ankle!)

Three minutes into an intense staff basketball game, my ankle rolled during my famous drop step left hand hook. It crunched, I flopped, and the ball doinked off the rim. Ah crap. This was the beginning of an adventure into Korean physical therapy.

At the orthepedic clinic, my ankle immediately received an exam, xray and ultrasound all for around $40. The doctor told me to avoid exercise for 3 weeks, gave me a wrap, and sent me home.

I've always been curious about acupuncture and seized the opportunity; Emily and I headed across town to see a "rare man" (as he describes himself) to poke me with needles. I thought acupuncture was an ancient, exotic, and calming way to treat injuries. I didn't realize it involved ancient, exotic torture. So far, I have been given 7 injections, many needle pokes, ultrasonic massage, and 2 different types of electric shock therapy.

As much as I squirm during the therapy, its working. The bruises and swelling are nearly gone and my walk is almost normal. I have not had to wait more than 10 minutes to get treated and 3 sessions cost under $100. I'll take Korean torture, I mean therapy, any day!

Instead of biking, I got to take pictures. It turned out to be a pretty good day anyway!

Beautiful Korean fall!

I feel the Earth, move, under my feet

Bright and Rainy

Life in Korea is often surprising. Usually I am surprised by people. Tonight my yoga instructor walked around to fix our posture, stretch our limbs more than we thought possible, and then patted us on the butt to affirm the location of our pain. I collapsed from my pose laughing. Sometimes I forget that its totally acceptable for the teenage boys to climb all over one another and I'm suprised when I see them snuggling or walking nearly arm in arm. I'm often surprised at my own inability to remember words for things such as 'plate' and 'soy sauce'. But Wednesday brought a new kind of surprise.

Yesterday morning in the Land of the Morning Calm, the land was anything but calm. After wishing my 1st period class a good day, I sat down at my desk to read some emails. Students scurried noisily through the halls and were caught up in the whirlwind that is the high school day, filled with drama, laughter, and some learning. Just then, I heard a low but audible rumble and felt the floor shake. No sooner than I could mutter "WHAT THE....?" it was over and I mustered a shriek of joy; I had just experienced my first earthquake!

Even though it was small (the students in the hallway didn't even notice) it was still an earthquake and I survived it. It was the first time I have ever felt the ground MOVE underneath me. I forget how powerful Earth can be, without warning or having to ask for permission from anyone. I felt small and powerless for a second. Then I remembered Wednesday was snack day and headed to the teacher workroom for some apple pie.

The following are a few moments captured recently where I felt something powerful for a brief second before moving on to the next frame of my life.

In Seoul there is a canal that runs through the city and while strolling along on a rainy Saturday, it didn't feel like a city of 20 million people. It felt a little more like home. Until I looked at the picture and realized the old man behind me was staring a little too hard. Moving on...
The kids were awesome at our last Cross Country meet and they finished strong. The bonds of a team are tight and irreplaceable, it's hard to describe them. I was feeling sad about not coaching anymore and then I realized my FREEDOM; after school and Saturdays are mine! Moving on...

I am constantly oohing and ahhing over Jacob, this nugget who belongs to my friends Jaci and Mike. He is a happy kid and I can only hope my future nuggets will be this great. Towards the end of a 45 mile bike ride last weekend, the Korean triathelete surprised me with saying, "You have a good, ah, how do I say...sculpture." I think that means an athletic build with strong childbearing hips. Thanks! Moving on...

Melons and Melancholy

pretty field in Osan

Purina in Korea!

Every once in awhile, I turn into Eeyore, Winnie the Pooh's friend who is often a victim of misfortune, unintended exclusion, and absentmindedness. Eeyore doesn't seem to mind when things don't go his way, and instead of making a big deal about it, he continues to saunter along in his melancholy. I admire Eeyore's sense of self-acceptance, but wonder if he lacks a bit of joy in his life. I was definitely an Eeyore today for no apparent reason. A wave of doubt and sadness hit and pulled me back out into the sea of grumpiness. The source remains unidentified, but leave it up to melons and yoga to rescue me.

Fresh fruit is very expensive, so I often get $14 worth of frozen "tropical fruit" from Costco to ensure my food pyramid is not lopsided. During my melancholy coma, I made smoothies and delivered one to a friend upstairs. Without even knowing my current state, she met me at the door and exclaimed, "OH! I have a verse to share with you...it's so good!" and it was. It reminded me of the depth of God's love and how it extends farther than I can imagine, even out to the sea and down into the coma. It doesn't matter if I feel it or not; it's there for me to take whenever I like. Much like Korean grocery stores where the sample servers smile and let you come back as many times as you like, God smiles when we come to Him and lets us come back as many times as we want for His free love.

I was greatly encouraged and sauntered on into the next day with a peaceful heart.

Yoga class was later that night; its right after dinner time which is hard because if you eat before class, you feel awful, and if you don't eat all you think about is food while you're stretching. Yoga is a great place to try and focus your thinking, calm your mind, and relieve stress. Our instructor told me I had a pretty face today. That helped ease me out of the melancholy a bit. We followed along as she skillfully stretched in painful positions on the ground, and that's when it happened. The moment where all of my stress, all of my worries were thrown into the wind; someone in the 2nd row farted. This has never happened before so you can imagine the roar of laughter throughout the class. Luckily, there were only women so no one was too embarrassed. I never thought something so simple and natural could take a feeling that is so unnatural and complex and replace it with joy, but it did.

Thank you, Eeyore, for showing me how to be OK with my situations, thank you Christie for sharing with me God's love, and thank you, person in the 2nd row. You saved my week.

Corean Comforts

(I AM a bad speller, but I was told that back in the day when kimchee was still buried in the ground, it was spelled Corea.)

There are a lot of things that make living abroad bearable during the times when you miss home so much you want to fall on the floor and throw a fit. Rosa makes me feel at home with just a glance and a purr. The pretty ajuma at the mandu restaurant certainly gives me a feeling of being home. Here is an excerpt from a note I jotted down after a recent stop at her tiny 14 seat eatery:

I just ordered 'chol bok ee' but only have a vague idea of what I'm getting. The only thing I know for sure is that it is without meat, because she remembers me and remembers I'm not a fan of meat. I'm probably her only patron who doesn't eat it! She is patient with my broken Korean, usually throws in extra pickled yellow radish for Emily, and is always kind. Coupled with her bright pink lipstick, her patience and kindness easily make her the prettiest ajuma in Corea. That is more than enough to make me confident in ordering this mystery meal. She just came over to my table, glanced at this paper and smiled; she doesn't know what it says and I am glad because we already understand each other enough.

The last few weeks have been really comforting in a strange way; being involved in the lives of high schoolers is a very special and delicate privilege. I forget how sensitive we are and how much love and encouragement we need throughout all of the different seasons of life. There is something very comforting in knowing you're needed. I feel needed by some of my kids here and that doesn't just make it feel like home, it is home.

Chacha and Jennifer were in my small group for Spiritual Emphasis Week

Jiwon trying to keep warm before cross country practice

Jean was my super senior group leader


Varsity girl with Coach Barrigar before a race