With every passing year I realize more and more that life seldom stays inside the lines. It's a lot more like scribbling really - at times messy, unpredictable, ugly, beautiful, frantic, colorful, boring, unique, imperfect. But, all part of an intricate creation when you let God hold the crayons. These are some of the scribbles in my journey.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Shoes
Saturday, June 22, 2013
Reflections - Didn't see this coming...
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| View from my apt. Love it! |
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| Can you find us? |
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| My Saturday Special Drama class performed "The Wizard of Oz"... slightly adapted... :) |
Thursday, April 4, 2013
N.K. and Nineveh
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Korea 2.0 - 1 Month In
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| View from my apt. |
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| View at night. |
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| What's this little closet? |
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| Oh look! It's a bathroom! |
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| Yup, I'm back in Korea! |
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| Making cheat-sheets for my washer. |
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| Shopping can be a challenge... which one do I get?... |
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| That boy in green is getting ready to throw those on his dad. Dad took it pretty well. |
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Moving Back to Move Forward
| Korean Lanterns |
| Love these ladies! |
| Last summer with Dad's Side of the family (My father, the bionic man...) |
| One of many pearls of wisdom found on Korean notebooks... |
So, here’s to moving forward – getting on with life and taking that next step. For me right now moving forward means moving back. What does it look like for you?
Friday, April 20, 2012
Parable 3 - The Ridge (Holding on to His Belt Loops)
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Parable 2: The King and His Servants
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Parable 1: Debts Paid in Full
Ok, here is the first of my three parables. I'm slightly more long-winded than Jesus...I need to work on being more concise. But seeing as he's God, the original storyteller, I'm not beating myself up too much. :)
Debts Paid in Full
I
There once was a very wealthy man who owned great riches and vast amounts of land. One beautiful, sunny day the rich man decided to go for a drive and visit a small town not far from his estate. He entered the town and found an outdoor café where he could enjoy the day and watch the people walking by. He smiled at the flowers in bloom and the birds singing in the trees. He observed the passers-by and imagined who they might be and the ambitions, hopes, and concerns they might have. As he sat he heard snippets of a conversation that caught his attention.
Three men sat at a nearby table, deep in discussion. It seemed that the three men had fallen on hard times. They had lost their jobs and incurred very large amounts of debt. All three feared that soon they would lose their homes and they and their families would find themselves on the streets. Even if they were able to find jobs now, their debts had grown so large they would never pay it off. The conversation lulled as the men stared at their cups of water which they had not touched. With nothing left to say they parted and wished each other better fortunes tomorrow. The rich man thought for a moment, went to the counter and asked the names of the men who had been at the table. He then went directly to the bank and paid all three men’s debts in full, promising to also pay any debts that the men would incur in the future.
II
A few days later the rich man decided to visit the three men and see how they were doing. As he drove up to the first man’s house he noticed a ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard. He smiled thinking the man must be doing so well he had decided to move his family into a nicer house. He parked on the street and walked to the front door. As he did so the door opened a crack and worried eyes peered out of the dark inside. “Who is it?” called an angry voice. The rich man was taken aback, “Just a friend coming to see how you fare.” “Ha! A debt collector. Go away,” said the man as he slammed the door shut. The rich man was very confused. Why would the man be afraid of debt collectors? Perhaps he had not yet heard the good news. Assuming this must be the case he knocked on the door, “Sir, I have good news for you. You never need to worry about another debt collector again.” The man’s voice came muffled from behind the closed door, “What are you going to try and sell me now? You’re wasting your time. I don’t have any money. Now go away!” The rich man laughed, “Sir, you don’t understand. I’m not selling anything. You see, I paid your debts – all of it, and then some. Come celebrate with me!” The door flung open with a bang, but the man who emerged was not rejoicing, he looked furious. The man glared at the rich man, “How dare you come here spouting nonsense, laughing and joking while I’m in trouble! No one is going to pay my debt for me, it’s much too large. Who would do that? It’s ridiculous! Besides, I can take care of myself. Even if someone did offer to pay for it I would never accept. I’ll work hard, dodge creditors, and make my own way.” The rich man interrupted, “Sir, I’m not offering, I already paid it, whether you want it or not.” “Enough!” said the man, “Stand out here all day if you want, but I have work to do!” With that he went back in his house and slammed the door once again. The rich man slowly walked back to his car, tears in his eyes. He should have been angry, but he felt so sorry for this man – he would spend his whole life slaving away to pay a debt that he could never pay, a debt that was already gone. The rich man got in his car, wondering if the other two men were doing any better.
As the rich man drove up to the second man’s house he saw the man sitting on the front porch watching the road. The rich man parked and the man came up and greeted him, “Good afternoon Sir, what brings you to my home today?” The rich man relaxed. So far the reaction was better. He smiled, “I’ve come to make sure you’ve heard the good news. Your debts have been paid. You never need to worry about money again. Let’s go-” “You’re him!” interrupted the man, “I can’t thank you enough! You have no idea!” The rich man grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut-off. “Wait here! I have something for you!” the man shouted as he ran into the house. Once again the rich man was left standing confused outside. Eventually the man reemerged carrying a small white envelope which he shoved into the rich man’s hands. “Here,” he said not able to look him in the eye, “It’s not much, but it’s all I have right now. I’ll give you more when I get it.” The rich man opened the envelope and saw a few tattered bills. “What is this?” The man looked up at him, “I told you, it’s all I have! Isn’t that enough for you?” The rich man held out the envelope, “I don’t want you to pay me. It was a gift.” The man looked down at the envelope, then back at the rich man, “You paid all my debt, and I know it was no small amount. The guys at the bank say you even promised to pay my future debt. How can you not want something in return? You’re obviously a great guy, I mean, I’m really thankful for what you did for me, but you must want something from me.” The rich man laughed, “Do you know who I am? I don’t need anything from you. Just come celebrate with me. Let’s enjoy each other’s company.” The man stared at him, trying to comprehend what he had just said. “But you might change your mind and decide I’m not worth it. I can’t afford that. I’ll pay you small payments when I can… I’ll give to the poor! See, I can learn from you! As long as you’re paying for me, I can help others. Would you like that? Will that keep us on good terms?” “I would be thrilled if you gave to the poor,” replied the rich man, “but not if it’s just because you think you need to earn my favor.” “Say no more,” cut in the man, “I’ll do more than you can imagine! I’ll work so hard… you’ve never seen a better worker! I’ll spend every spare moment volunteering. I’ll even make my kids do it! You chose the right guy! I’ll make it worth your money, don’t you worry.” The man began walking back to his house. The rich man called after him, “Won’t you come with me?” “No time,” shouted the man over his shoulder, “I’ve got to get busy!” With that he walked into the house and shut the door. Feeling completely rejected the rich man returned to his car. He sat staring at the dash and the tears returned to his eyes. He wanted to give this man a gift, but the man had turned it into an even greater burden. Not only would he spend his life trying to repay the enormous debt, but he would be forever worried about keeping the rich man’s favor. As he turned the key in the ignition he wondered if it was even worth going to see the third man.
When the rich man pulled up to the third house he saw the man on his hands and knees working in the yard. The rich man took a deep breath and got out of the car. The man got up to greet the visitor, “It’s a beautiful afternoon isn’t it?” The rich man looked at the many newly planted flowers, “It is. You’ve been busy.” The man wiped his hands on his pants, “That I have. You will never believe what has happened. I had fallen on hard times… I can’t tell you how bad it was. I was going to lose everything. Then, miraculously, someone paid all my debts! I don’t know how he even knew! But he did. My wife has wanted flowers out here for so long, but I couldn’t do even that for her. But now, thanks to him – now she will have the most beautiful yard in the neighborhood!” The rich man smiled, “I am certain she will.” The man looked at his handiwork with pride then back to the rich man, “Now what brings you here Sir? Can I help you with –” he stared at the rich man’s smiling face, “You’re him aren’t you?” The rich man nodded. Before he could say anything the man, forgetting his dirty hands and clothes, embraced the rich man, sobbing. “Thank you so much! How can I ever repay you?” he cried. The rich man’s heart sank. The man suddenly remembered his dirtiness and pulled back. “I want to be clear,” began the rich man, “I paid your debt as a gift, because I want you to be happy, not living a life of worry. I don’t want you to spend your life trying to repay a debt that we both know you can’t. If you are grateful at all, then just come celebrate with me.” The man looked down at his dirty hands, then up at the rich man, “Will you come inside and meet my family?” The rich man felt as though his heart would burst with joy, “I would love to.”
III
A few weeks later the rich man drove again to see the first man, but despite his knocking, no one answered the door. He shook his head sadly has he walked back past the ‘for sale’ sign still in the yard. He drove next to the second man’s house. When he knocked on the door the man came quickly to the door, greeted him boisterously, stuffed an envelope in his hand and turned to go, saying he had lots of work to do. “Wait,” called the rich man. “Won’t you go for a drive with me?” “Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t,” replied the man. “Perhaps another time,” and he shut the door. The rich man drove to the third man’s house and before he could even get out of the car the man ran up and hopped in the passenger seat, “Where are we going today?” The rich man laughed, “You have no idea how much I love coming here! Well, today I was thinking you could go with me to tell some others that I’ve paid their debts.” The man looked a little worried, “What if they react like those other two you told me about?” The rich man started the car, “That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Are you in?” The man buckled his seatbelt and nodded. It was sure to be a great ride.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Writing at home
Why is it that when away from home everything seems more interesting? In Korea I wrote blogs about holidays, cooking, my apartment, even watching paint dry (ok, so maybe not). Here, it never occurs to me to write about anything. There I took pictures of EVERYTHING, here I’m lucky if I remember to get one picture of a special event.
When I was getting ready to leave Korea I told myself, as countless others have before and will after, that I would keep the same “tourist” mindset in Oregon that I had developed in Korea. And like those ambiguous “others” I just mentioned, I didn’t.
Perhaps it’s because things here are so familiar that I take them for granted. Or maybe subconsciously I don’t think people will be interested in things here. But why? *Warning: Soapbox coming out* I live in one of the most beautiful places on earth. The Willamette Valley is stunning. Yes, it rains a lot, but look at what all that rain does! The people are great too. Oregonians are laid back and comfortable. (Complain about our slow driving all you like, but while you’re busy rushing around, we’re savoring time. I mean, come on, have you SEEN this place?! I had to remind myself to keep my eyes on the road the other day because the sunset was so amazing.) *Okay, got that out of my system.*
Holy brilliant colors, Batman! The sky is on fire!
God is still working in my life and there is still lots of scribbling. This is perhaps the messiest scribbling of all because I really have no idea what picture God and I are making right now. Sometimes I throw down my crayons and say, “Hey, God, what gives? I could do a much better job if you’d just tell me what I’m doing.” But he just laughs and says, “No you couldn’t.” *sigh* Why is he always right?
Now, another aspect of this whole “scribbled journeys” thing is that I like to scribble out little poems and stories to help me process some of the things I think about. Back several months ago I started thinking that it would be fun to try writing parables like Jesus used to explain concepts. I love the simplicity of his stories and how they cut right to the heart of an issue. So I tried my hand at a few. Mine are not nearly as… minimalistic? I really love details and can be pretty wordy (no surprise to you if you’re even still reading down this far). However, I enjoyed the pursuit and I don’t think they’re that bad, so I think I’ll share them on here. Not today, I need to read over them again, and not all at once, but soon. (I know, you’re breathless with anticipation.) *Side note: Whenever I type “you” I can’t help but wonder to whom I’m referring… who are you? (WHO, are YOU? J) Does anyone read this?*
Okay, so there are some random tidbits to prime the pump, so-to-speak. Parables coming soon. And question: How are your scribblings coming along?
Monday, April 25, 2011
Pt.2 - The Joy of Being Wrong...
The story continues…Sometimes, it’s so good to be wrong…
When I read the end of Luke, what strikes me most is the incredible joy – the joy of the women, the joy of the disciples, and the joy of Jesus himself. I can just imagine his huge smile as the disciples see him and realize who he is. I picture him laughing at them a little when they are afraid he is a ghost, so he calls out, “Bring me something to eat!” What a wonderful reunion. And how satisfying to finally be able to tell them, “See! This is what I’ve been talking about this whole time!”
The realization of who Jesus truly is and what he really did produces uncontainable joy. Luke says, “They stayed continually at the temple, praising God.” How could they do anything else! They had just witnessed the impossible – God died, then came back to life! It had been right there in front of them their whole lives, written in the Scriptures they had been raised on, but they never really saw it until then. How amazing to see everything you had ever hoped for fulfilled right before your very eyes. A few days earlier they thought everything had come crashing to the ground in a tragic end…But it was just the beginning! The cross is love and its fruit is joy.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Love of the Cross
Today I was reading the passage in Luke about Jesus’ trial and crucifixion. I have read and heard that story hundreds of times; I have seen the graphic portrayal in paintings and on film. But today it was different, and today I cried. I don’t know why it was different today, but it broke my heart. I was so sad thinking about the people rejecting Jesus when all he ever did was accept them. They hated him when he loved them. They insulted him when he blessed them. They shouted for his blood and he was silent. He stood there and just took it – all of it. I felt so sorry for him. I felt sorry for Him. How strange that sounds, that I, a weak creature, felt sorry for him, the all-powerful Creator! But it’s true. The Bible says that he made himself nothing. He put himself so low that I was able to feel sorry for him.
I cried as I read the people’s shouts to crucify him. I cried as he hung on the cross. And I cried as he breathed his last and then was laid to rest. I thought about how quickly the people forgot their joy over Jesus’ coming, how even his closest friends deserted him. And I thought about how I forget him so quickly and turn my back and crucify him. It was my sin that held him there. I thought about the people’s shouts of, “Save yourself! If you’re really the Christ, come down off the cross!” I thought of how tempting that must have been and how easy it would have been to do. How much easier to save himself than to stay on the cross! I can imagine Jesus forcing himself to stay there. The nails didn’t keep him there – he chose to be there. He did something much more powerful that day than come off a cross – as if three nails and a piece of wood could contain the God of the universe! No, he, God himself, died. Again, this makes no sense! But he made himself nothing – absolutely nothing. What this fully means is beyond imagining.
Go loves us, loves me, so much that he gave everything. He knew I would be unfaithful, he knew we would turn our backs on him, but he still died for us. He knew Peter would deny him and that the disciples would scatter, but he still loved them. He is so faithful – so loving.
I know that the next part of the story is the Resurrection and that my tears will soon turn to joy, but I will leave that for tomorrow. For now, I think it is good to meditate on Christ’s death. I think that I can see God’s love even more clearly through my tears at the foot of the cross.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Homeless
I’m homeless, sitting in a coffee shop enjoying a black tea latte and using free wireless. No work, no schedule, nowhere to be. I could get used to this. Sure there are the inconveniences… I have to carry everything around with me all the time, but really, I can’t complain.
Before long I’ll be heading out of Korea. I’m trying to enjoy each moment here, taking pictures of some of the simple things I know I’ll forget otherwise. Since I last wrote, I went to the DMZ, spent a day and a half at a prayer mountain, went hiking at Seoraksan, saw snow on the beach, and enjoyed a million other little moments that don’t sound like much on paper, but are equally memorable. With each passing day, leaving becomes more of a reality and I try to sink further into denial. *Sigh*
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Foreigner Crossing
You know that awkward feeling you sometimes get when walking toward someone in an empty hall or on a deserted street? Those thoughts of ‘Where should I look,’ or ‘Should I say hi’? Well multiply that by about 57 and you have what I like to call “Foreigner Crossing”.
In Korea there are two groups of people: Korean, and Waygook – Foreign. And of the foreigners in Korea, most of those belong to two groups: Military, and English teachers. So when you walk down the street and spot another foreigner there is an immediate affinity – it’s like being members of the same secret club (minus the handshake). This can be kind of cool. I know that as I look around, any foreigner in my view probably has the same job as I do and experiences many of the same things I do.
But it can also be really awkward. When passing a random foreigner on the street, do I smile? Say hello? Just because I can? I don’t know this person at all, but there’s an unspoken connection that creates a sense of obligation. Being the friendly person that I am, I usually opt for the “Look-away-and-pretend-you-didn’t-see-them” strategy.
The worst is when you’re alone in an elevator with another foreigner. Hard to pretend you don’t see them then… (headphones are really handy in these situations). And living in Seoul, the buildings can get pretty tall. You could be riding up to the 50th floor together. And as each number passes and the other person doesn’t get off you start to wonder things like, “What if we’re going to the same place? It’s going to be really awkward if we both walk up to the same door after ignoring each other for 50 floors.” I’ve had a few painful elevator conversations that I am sure where initiated by the other person simply to avoid this prospect. (“So… how long have you been in Korea?”… Seriously?!)
Now as I start thinking about going back to the US soon a thought crosses my mind – Will I feel an awkward obligation to greet every Korean I pass in the States?
Sunday, January 2, 2011
A year at a glance
January: Arrive in Korea, SNOW, Deoksugung Palace, Festival of Lights, first “adventure in cooking” – Kimchi soup, discover GEM church.
Seoul Festival of Lights - carriage ride.
February: Changgyeonggung Palace, second “adventure in cooking” – Tres Leches, overcome by the ridiculous love of God.
March: Discover Insadong art galleries, first FC Seoul game, dumpster-diving, purchase an electric keyboard.
April: Take the plunge with Korean bangs, take Lizze to ER, become proud mother of two hamsters, Easter – Korean style, Suwon Hwaseong Fortress.
May: Butterfly festival, paper festival, birthday – Butterfinger Pancakes and Rodin exhibit, lantern festival.
June: Cook American meal for Koreans, say goodbye to Muang, World Cup, another palace.
July: 4th of July at the beach, Single cell at book theme park, learning to remember God’s faithfulness.
August: Children’s camp with church – I am NOT in control, but GOD is!, Namsan tower, try live octopus.
September: Chuseok with Anny’s family, start Truth Project with some girls from church.
October: Applesauce, trip with June’s kids from church, Autumn fortress, hike and clam digging.

November: Apple festival, Sudeok-sa temple, try bundegi for first and last time, C&C park day, first Thai food in Korea – fork for the White girl, North Korea fires on South Korea.

December: American vacation and Michelle’s wedding, Christmas norebang, “gingerbread” houses, Christmas and New Year’s Eve with church family.
God has been so faithful to me this year, bringing me through difficult times and providing me with great friends. I think 2010 will always remain one of the most memorable years of my life. I can’t wait to see what he has next!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Arrivals and Departures
Arrivals are great. People are excited to see you. There are lots of hugs and stories to share. Arriving is coming together. But you can’t have arrivals without departures, and departures are not so fun. They mean goodbyes and tears. Departures are separation. In order to say “hello” to something new we must first say “goodbye” to something else.
Saturday the 11th I flew home to Oregon so that I could be in my dear friend Michelle (Howden) Saffeels’ wedding. I had nine days at home then flew out in the wee dark hours of the morning on the 20th. It was a whirlwind trip, but I had a great time with friends and family. Saying goodbye Tuesday morning was harder than I expected – Family is so comfortable (as is my marshmallow bed at my parent’s house).
Now I’m back in Korea and thinking about another goodbye that I’m going to have to say soon. I have LOVED living in Korea this year. It has been a wonderful time of growth for me in many ways. I have made great friends, taught adorable students, seen amazing things, tasted interesting foods – all of them fantastic experiences. But in the beginning of March I’ll be heading back to Oregon. I know this is going to be a hard goodbye. I am excited for the next stage of life and whatever God may have planned, but I wish saying hello didn’t mean first saying goodbye. The arrival will be great; I just have to endure the departure first.
*On a happier note, I vow to make these last couple months in Korea some of the best yet! And for more pictures from my American Vacation check out http://www.flickr.com/photos/scribbledjourneys/
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Applesuace
What do you do when someone gives you a box of about a million over-ripe apples and your kitchen consists of a single burner? Applesauce – obviously – and lots of it…
Wanna try it yourself? Okay! Place about 4 chopped apples into you pot and mix with ½ cup water, ¼ cup brown sugar, and ½ tsp cinnamon. Cover and cook on med for 15-20 minutes… (I let them cook the last 5 mins uncovered if there seems to be too much liquid)
Once they’re all beautiful soft and brown, let them cool…















