BackBlog #1

The last day and a half has been like a very long moment frozen in time. It never felt as though I would eventually arrive in Kenya. Kenya is a far away distant land that exists in fairy tales and books and pictures, and other people go there, but it’s not real life enough for me to ever get there. I feel as though I’m a traveler stuck in limbo, like I’m going to be living in airports for an interminable amount of time. I’m in a dreamworld. I feel like I’m watching everyone go by without really being there, like I’m simply a human behavior data collection center disguised as a Midwestern nearly-travel-clueless blonde. Tricky.
Traveling has gone relatively smoothly. After a final Taco Bell run, I bid farewell to Mom, Dad, and sister Jo and headed inside the Minneapolis airport to find a nice long security line. I (quite frazzled by now) made it just in time for the scheduled boarding call, just to find the flight slightly delayed. By the time I was called onto the very full flight to Chicago, the overhead bins were full and the airline agent gate-checked my carry-on. No biggie. When we landed in Chicago, I checked outside the door of the plane to find my carry-on. Nope. I walked to the end of the breezeway. Nuh-uh. I asked the attendant where to find it: “Oh, you’ll have to go out through security to baggage claim 6, then back through security to Terminal 5.” I’m in Terminal 1. Ugh. My layover in Chicago was only a little over an hour to begin with, so the delayed flight really made things interesting. I waited and waited at baggage claim 6, all the while doubting myself: Shouldn’t the gate-checked luggage come first, since it was loaded last? Why isn’t mine here? Did I misinform the flight attendant and fail to tell him I was getting off in Chicago? Did I leave my bag at the gate, on the other side of security? More ugh. I impatiently watched the minutes slip toward the 4:35p boarding time. My bag appeared! Woohoo. I rushed to Terminal 5, all the while imagining a long line at international security, a closed gate, and my flight to London taking my luggage on to Nairobi without me. A continuous prayer – consisting of muttering only God could understand – was answered, and I got to my gate with minutes to spare. Some of the residual effects of the stress-adrenaline reaction were alleviated by a bubbly greeting from fellow SM Cassie. Though we shared the flight, we were sitting at opposite windows of the same aisle. Go figure.
Thoughts regarding the flight to London: I was pleased to have an empty seat next to me. I was also pleased to have a large, bald, very kind Syrian man on the other side of that seat. I saw the sun set on North America and rise over London; kind of fitting, I thought. I heard the most high-pitched scream known to man from the poor little girl kitty-corner to me – she didn’t enjoy flying. A flight attendant asked for my “rubbish”, tehe. Someday I will have a British accent and flaunt it everywhere I go.

Far, far away

August 11 has always been very far away, an intangible christening of my student missionary experience. Far, far away; like happily ever after. You know that happily ever after that just happens, but it's never experienced? The one that whisks away the knight and maiden into the sunset and everything is perfect? Yep, that one. The same type of adventure that steals away student missionaries, keeps them for a year, and returns them as the new and improved "them". The happily ever after that poses a time-space conundrum: the year that didn't exist. Those friends were just not around, and they were given some cool stories and photos to make it seem as though they were living life, not just escaping it for a few months. Yep. Far, far, far away, in a place that you'll never actually be, in a year that you'll never actually live.

T-minus 16 hours until take-off to far, far away.

I was pretty sure this day would never come. Well, I knew that August 11 day would come, but not "British Airways Flight Number 65 is now boarding, with service to Nairobi, Kenya" day. Not "See you later, sister! I mean, see you in a while..." day. Not one-of-my-four-bags-weighs-70-lbs. day. Nope. This day was a distant thought that grew and faded and died and was resurrected and blew in the wind and changed shape and direction and feeling and finally settled on August 11. And thoughts like these rarely become living experiences.

Nine, ten, eleven...It's August 10. August 11 comes next. That's all I know. I don't know what else to expect. But the best of adventures are the ones that surprise you. Woooohooooo!! I'm about to have the best adventure; care to join me? :D

Good-Bye

In the past week, I've had to bid a 10-month goodbye to many of my best friends. Oofta. As my friend Kristen put it, "Goodbye is just goodbye"; a statement that grows wiser with age. I always feel as though my goodbyes need to give some sort of closure, to somehow make the departure okay. But that's not a goodbye's job. A goodbye is simply a goodbye.

Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes.
I know what I need. I need more hellos. 
-Snoopy

Well, lookee there; a wish comes true. For as much as I hate goodbyes, bad-byes must be much worse, and I haven't had any of those. I've got nothing but first-time hellos on the other side of the ocean. This has got to be good. Here's to more hellos.

Uv Ájéd

Exclusive screening of the opening scene of Kickin' in Kenya! Only two individuals were privy to this event...
I brought my Californian friend to the Minneapolis-St. Paul airport today, and couldn't help but sense the backward viewing of the impending episode of déjá vu. I will be making the same trip, to the same airport, at nearly the same time, in just one week. WHOA. I got butterflies in my stomach, and I wasn't even the one flying. I'm going to be the one standing in that ticket line, putting my luggage on the table...the next time I'll see it will be in AFRICA. The next time I'll sleep in a bed will be in AFRICA. The next patch of dirt I'll step onto will be in AFRICA. This is UNREAL. Overuse of CAPS is VERY necessary.

Prepare Me

17 days and counting...
Fellow camp staff keep asking how I feel about Kenya, if I'm ready, what's left to do; I can't tell you what's left. I have no idea. I'm going to be flying halfway across the world, and I've got less than three weeks to get ready, and I'm not doing anything about it. There must be some preparations to be made, right? I've got to be overlooking something.

Then again, I can't prepare for everything.

Lord: prepare me to be a missionary - pure and holy, tried and true.

Journal Entry

Lord prepare me to be a missionary
Pure and holy, tried and true
With thanksgiving I'll be a living
Missionary, Lord, for You...

...because I 'm finaly realizing that I can't prepare myself.

I Surrender All

I (wish I wanted to) surrender all.
I (know I should) surrender all.
I (wish I could) surrender all.
I (know I can't) surrender all.
I (know He did) surrender all.

I (know I must) surrender all.




Terms of Surrender:
ALL. Everything. Give it up. If it's not Mine, whose is it?

All to Jesus, I surrender.

Signed,
Jessica, sinner.

Journal Entry

Jessica: I love you with an everlasting love. I am not distant or angry. I will take great delight in you, and will quiet you with My love, and rejoice over you with singing. I will heal you and love you freely...
Now go: love each other as I have loved you.

[we love because He first love dus. I John 4:19]

Journal Entry

5 weeks (minus 1 day) until August 11. Who's to say I'm ready? I'm not. Oofta. How does one prepare to live like Jesus for 10 months? I'm extremely grateful I have somewhere to go this year. BUT have I been preparing? I have NOT found the will to wake up early for devotions. There's more rain outside (sheesh) than spiritual rain on Jessica. NOT okay for camp.

Blest Be the Tie That Binds

Nostalgia: my week in a word. My last undergrad class, my last final, my last choir rehearsal, my last Improv performance, my last concert in the Howard Performing Arts Center, and last time seeing who knows how many of my friends and acquaintances.

As the school year draws to a close, I find that I've got lots of connections to lots of people. I'm pretty comfy in this web of connections, a cocoon of sorts; like a hammock just snug enough to feel secure, but not so rigid as to make me uncomfortable. The tricky thing about connections: it's scary to stretch them, and ties between two continents are by necessity very stretched.

Those generic office rubber bands are super fun to use – until one snaps. It's much safer to leave them be. But safer doesn't describe what I'm called to do.

I'm thankful for my one-of-a-kind, limited edition, irreplaceable titanium-steel-tungsten alloy JesusBand that's already anchored in Kenya.


P.S. In my hunt for a rubberband photo to spruce up this blog, I stumbled upon this rubberband masterpiece. Bahaha. What ingenuity is spent upon...

Journal Entry

I live life on a curve. I do just enough homework to stay with the pack, finish just enough hours to keep the boss happy, join just enough religious activities and groups to satisfy my self-righteousness and feel comfortable.

I need to ditch the curve.

Live like you've lived your whole life on a deserted island; only you are the standard. Don't submit to the status quo; rise above, do more than what is expected, offer more than asked. God will sustain. God will give wisdom to know where the line to friendly decline lies.

Journal Entry

To: God.
From: Jess.

You know what? I love You. I want to do what You want me to do. Give me the will to do so. Equip me.

A REAL Update

Thursday, Thursday, Thursday. One week ago, it was Thursday. Two weeks ago, it was Thursday. Four weeks ago, it was Thursday. And four weeks ago, on Thursday, I found out that I wasn't going where I planned as an SM. Again.

Rain, rain, rain. Today is Thursday. Today it rained. Four weeks ago, it was Thursday. Four weeks ago, it rained. And four weeks ago, more than just rain tracked down my cheeks.

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Thoughts of frustration. Thoughts of disappointment. Thoughts of confusion. Thoughts of hope.

Thursday, Thursday, Thursday. Today is Thursday. Today I learned that I'm going to be tutoring/teaching science at Maxwell Adventist Academy; Nairobi, Kenya.


I'm not quite sure what to do, how to feel, what to think. But I paused to simply thank God; thank Him for guidance, for patience (though perhaps not expressed to a saintly degree), for a plan, and especially for an answer. That joy way down in my heart started gushing and overflowing, beaming from my face, even leaking from my eyes. A feeling washed over me: a feeling of letting go, of calm, a loss of apprehension; a feeling that passes understanding.

I'm speechless. After 15 months of wishing and hoping and praying and waiting, I expected to have more to say. For a roller coaster full of twists and turns, dips and loops, this is the first predictable turn. I feel as though I should be struggling to hold back all the words and stories and hallelujahs – but perhaps silence is a more profound expression.

The application was approved by the receiving division of your first call interest and is waiting for the General Conference vote.

Boy is that a sight for joy-filled eyes.



I've been through the other steps of the student missionary process a few times before. Now it's back to new territory.

Bring it on.

Journal Entry

WOW.
All this waiting, all this praying, all this angst, all this learning, all this worrying, all this mess... and now it's Kenya.

I can't believe how speechless I am, how thought-less. My mind is blank, but in a very peaceful way. SM destination questions have become a part of my life. I've become afraid to envision myself somewhere for fear of losing it. But now... it finally works out. I guess I'm uust not realizing that I'm going, that I'll be gone for a year, that I won't be in school (well, taking classes...).

Boy, did I run from teaching. And now I'm excited about it.

I feel emotionless. Well, no; I feel at ease. Pleasantly happy. I don't know. It's inexpressible. It passes understanding.

Worthy of Consideration

After the Norway hiccup, I had to re-prioritize my call choices. So I prayerfully did.

Today I received an email notifying me that my volunteer application has been re-submitted: Jessica Mae Stotz, your application has been sent to the East-Central Africa Division for consideration for filling the following call: Science Tutor/Teacher, Maxwell Adventist Academy (Kenya). WHOA. A board of wise, God-fearing leaders will read (well, at least skim) my résumé, look at my picture, and "consider" me. Will she work hard? Will she be willing? Will she show love? Will she live up to her name as a Christian, an Adventist, a Wisconian, an Andrews student, a 21-year-old, a Stotz? Will she facilitate the change that this world needs, the change that this call provides the opportunity to make?

It's a good thing they're not asking these questions of me in person. I'd probably feel the need to answer honestly; I'm not so sure I could answer "yes" to each pregunta. I'm sure there will be many days that I don't feel like working hard. I'm positive that there are a few tasks that I won't feel willing to complete. I know that I may not appear loving at times. I realize that I'm human and that I'll let my name and expectations down. I absolutely know that I cannot change anything, especially the world.

So why consider me?

I can do everything through Him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:13)

Yep. Everything.          [Cue first 45 sec of "I've Got the Power" by Snap]


So why am I still apprehensive?