For Unto Us the Coffeebean is Born!

[what's brewing: the sweetest and finest in all the land!]

All is calm...at my house, but not at Coffeegirl's.

I'm so pleased to announce to you: it's a girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Vital Stats: 8 lbs. 12.5 oz, 21.1 inches long.

Both are doing well and are enjoying the holidays at home with husband, and some of CG's family, who flew in to see lil' coffeebean.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Blessings to you as you celebrate the one who is called, "Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace"--Jesus.

Wait for it...Be the First to Know!

CG's Community Tuesday's post is delayed until ?...sorry for the mystery, but I have something that is worth waiting for. Have I told you about the benefits of following WOTH on Twitter?
This is one instance where you would be the first to know (via a Tweet) what I'm holding out for in delaying this post.

Sign up by going to www.Twitter.com/wotheditor and click on "Followers" in the right sidebar.

OPEN MIKE: Where Do You Live?

[what's brewing: an answer to the question]

"Do you live around here?", the cashier at 7-11 asks me as he recognizes me and my coffee order for the third week in a row. The lady at the park, with the super cute 4 year-old, asks me "Do you live nearby?" In church, after a casual introduction to the couple behind me, they ask the question, "Where do you live?" "Where do you live?" is a common question we ask each other in our day-to-day interactions. Those who have an easy answer to this question may never really notice it being asked.

This question has been a difficult one for me these many years. How do I even begin to answer this very simple question? Are they asking: Where did I used to live? Where have I ever lived? Where do I live this week or where will I live next week? Where did I live last month? Where do I want to live?

When someone asks the question, I must I get a funny smirk on my face, because they usually sense that the question is oddly hard for me.

Well, I say, I am from California... actually I am from Indiana, but have lived in California most of my life. Well, most of my adult life I have lived overseas...except for the few years in between when I lived in California again. First we lived in Kazakhstan--that is near Russia, you know--and for the last few years I have lived in Turkey, but I don't live there any more, however all my stuff is still there. So, technically I am homeless, but I am not living in my car or anything like that (I chuckle at this point and the person who is listening to me usually doesn't). I have lived in Long Beach for the past few months and am living right now in Los Alamitos, but I'm headed to Big Bear for the foreseeable future. I am really anxious to move to the UK, we are waiting on our visas; yes, the UK, I know it's crazy! (at that point I get the clue that it is time to change the subject by asking about their lives).

"So, where do you live?", I ask.

When the cashier at the 7-11 asks me “Do you live around here?”, I just say : Yes, I live nearby. Do you live around here?

The lessons of "home" and "homelessness" have proved to be a constant struggle for me. I want to be settled, to be home. When I first began to read the Kazakh language, I remember reading in Kazakh the verses that describe our lives as "in Christ." In the Kazakh language, "in" is the exact same grammatical form (and meaning) as we would use when saying "I live in Indiana." It is a directional word; it is concrete. I live in Oregon... I live in Kazakhstan... I live in Christ. Imagine knowing your home "in Christ" as surely as you know your home is in Long Beach, California.

His word tells me that "he is my dwelling place... he has been my home" (Psalm 90); but, I still find my heart searching for home outside of Him alone. What if I answered that infamous question, "Where do you live?" with a confident and secure, “I live in Christ”? The thought makes me smile and chuckle a bit as I wonder how the 7-11 cashier would respond to that answer.

Lord, make this the deep truth and response of my heart!

I live in Christ. Where do you live?

[editor's note: Thanks, Stephanie! You can connect with Stephanie on her blog, www.hisgirlalone.blogspot.com Would you like to "live in" CG's Community for a week? Submit your post to me during this OPEN MIKE season: editor@womenoftheharvest.com ]

OPEN MIKE: Tangible Taste of God's Goodness

[what’s brewing: the familiar taste of comfort]

Do you ever have no good, terrible, very bad days where you need something comfortable and familiar? I do. Today was that day! The car had a dead battery. Using one foreign language to learn another was just too much effort. And when my email went haywire--that was the last straw.

How I would have loved to find a Starbucks drive-thru!

We are in our second field term in East Africa where people grow coffee and drink coffee, but do not serve any variety of 'fancy' coffee that is so comfortable and familiar to me (I grew up in Seattle with a coffee shop on every corner). I may not get to choose the exact way God provides what is comfortable and familiar, but there is always something somewhere, anywhere, in this, our Father's world.

Something as simple as a favorite staple food can be the 'taste of home' for me.We have African friends who have moved from a sweet potato area to a plantain banana area and craved their familiar 'home foods.' I can relate. Is it universal to need the comfortable and familiar once in a while?

In case you were wondering, we are officially in the sweet potato region, and their cousins, potatoes, are definitely my home food! You can bake 'em, fry 'em, boil, mash or steam 'em—add some form of cheese or butter— and I am a happy lady. I'm so thankful good potatoes are grown here locally. While I'd like to think my 'home food' is chocolate creamy coffee goodness, it is deep down something simpler. Potatoes. Comfort food. A tangible taste of God's goodness and provision.

So while you may be in a place where your most comfortable and familiar foods are not available, what comfort foods are available?

How do you take in a tangible taste of God's goodness and provision this week at your house? It doesn't have to be food. Drink in the goodness of a gorgeous sunset, a child's laughter, some hidden flowers. Taste and see. While I'd rather have that venti decaf mocha, I'm looking forward to steamed potatoes with homemade butter next time I need to taste and see. What's your 'home food'?

Kim in Congo

[Editor's note: yummo, Kim! You've got my mouth watering for...]

OPEN MIKE: He's My Home

[what's brewing: longing for the everlasting cup]

We had just moved again. Tearfully saying goodbye to a beautiful season of ministry, I was propelled into another unwelcomed one. For the first time in my life, I was somewhere I didn’t want to be. I was hanging onto my calling to missions, but only loosely. My hand limp, I cried weakly, “God, I can’t do this. It’s too much, this missionary life; this inevitable, unstoppable series of moves from one place to another.”

In the darkest and loneliest season of my life, I wanted only one thing. I wanted to go home. Except we couldn’t. So my cries of inadequacy were quieted only when I sat down with my Bible. One day in that fleeting quietness, I reached Psalm 90: 1, “Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!” Tears streaming down my face, dotting the page, I could not move my eyes from that word. Home. It wasn’t a place 3,000 miles away, it was a person. It was Him.

Slowly over the course of the next few days, I was able to identify what home meant to me, release it and delight in the perfection of my new Home.

I started out by declaring that I wanted to live in the same house on the same street for the rest of my life. No more moves. No more suitcases.

He gently corrected me.

What I really wanted wasn’t a white house on Main Street, but Him. “Child, the stability you crave is only found in me! I am the eternal, incorruptible Lord. I do not change! I’m the same yesterday, today and forever. I am your home.”

Then I explained that I wanted to be one of the belongers, to have my name written in the collective story, the shared history of a people. No more wondering how I fit. No more being an outsider.

He spoke back, “Have you forgotten? You are already one of the belongers. I chose you before the foundation of the earth. I wrote your name in the epic of the redeemed with My own Son’s blood. You’re not an outsider! You’re accepted in the Beloved and seated at My right hand forever. I am your home.”

Finally, I confessed my longing for deep, meaningful relationships. Friendships that would allow me to barge through the front door with barely a knock, plop down on the couch and tell my truth without fear. Ties unthreatened by the brokenness of my humanity, ties unadulterated by judgment. No more being weighed in the balance. No more exhausting guardedness.

This time He whispered. “Child,” he said, “this freedom to barge into an earthly den and be met with open arms? It’s only a shadow. I am the fulfillment, the One casting that shadow. You have free access to Me through the Spirit! I welcome you to pour out your heart boldly and frankly, though you are broken and naked and lacking. There is no condemnation for you at this throne. Only grace. I am your home.”

It’s been seven years (and as many moves) since the light of Home shined hope into that dark season of my life. Still, I have much to learn about this exchange of temporal for eternal, of seen for unseen, of the shadow for the fulfillment. How thankful I am that the Spirit faithfully directs me Home to the One who satisfies my every longing.

“That something we long for, whether it be an island in the west or the other side of a mountain or perhaps a schooner yacht, long for it in the belief that it will mean joy, which it never fully does, because what we are really longing for is God.” --Sheldon VanAuken, A Severe Mercy

[Editor's note: Thanks, Shilo! Connect with Shilo on her blog: myplaceofpeace.blogspot.com What's brewing with you? "Open Mike" will go through the end of December; please submit your post to editor@womenoftheharvest.com]

OPEN MIKE: from Laura in Mexico

[what's brewing: a nice blend from Mexico]

We are anticipating a possible furlough of about 3 months during which I’ll be working part time as a temporary in my old profession (Medical Physicist). While we are at it, if it works out, we are hoping for time to take care of some other “stuff”–detox, training, raise support, clarify our ministry focus, and simply be with the Father. I’ve been thinking about what I’ll miss and not miss about this place. I’ve decided I’ll miss the “everyday people” the most:

The little guy who comes by every day selling squash seeds to my husband.

The store owner across the street.

The little kids in my English “story hour” class.

I’ll miss the “church people” too, but I think I’ll miss the “everyday people” even more.

Re-entry is never easy – sometimes I think it’s tougher than the culture stress of acclimating to a new environment. This is especially tough when we know we are going to be rubber-banding back into our “new” culture, so we don’t want to fully embrace everything about our country of origin.

I’ve recently realized that one thing that has slowed me down from fully acclimating to our “new” culture is that we live pretty close to the border (about an 8 hour drive). We have reasons to travel back and forth fairly frequently – 4 or more times a year. We HAVE to go back twice a year to deal with visas (arrgggghhh).

This yo-yo is becoming more common with all of us (or most of us) since we have Internet access and therefore “on the spot” (or nearly) communication with everyone and exposure to the many things we left behind. Take this blog for instance! What a treat to share a cup-o-joe with you, me here in the bookstore we run while you are ???. I wouldn’t trade for it – but I think it does change the dynamics of assimilating into a new culture.

What is your experience with re-entry?

Some of you have been out there a lot longer than I; what have you observed about our “information” age and how living in this time is different from the ancient days before the Internet? (Ouch, burned my tongue on that sip of coffee - ancient being oh, what, 15-20 years?) I know there are others out there who have to spend months in the US between visas. What about you? Do you feel like you are always a stranger in either world, or is it just me?

How do you handle the constant interruption of your ministry focus – in either place – not to mention the every-day life adjustments?

Thanks for sharing a cup with me. If you like, next time I’ll make us some cappuccinos – do you want vanilla in that?

Laura in the central mountains of Mexico

[Editor's note: Thanks, Laura!]

Open Mike

[what's brewing: a cup needing to be filled]

I miss Coffeegirl already. This is Cindy, editor for WOTH and overseer of this blogspot. What happens here every week is so exciting--an average of 250 readers click in from over 88 countries, one of which is you.

Between now and the end of the year, I'd like to fill the every Tuesday post with some of your musings. I call it "OPEN MIKE." Here's how it would work:

1. Submit a post to editor@womenoftheharvest.com that is 300-500 words in length on what is on y0ur heart as you serve cross-culturally. OR you can simply ask a provocative question for all your fellow CGs to answer.

2. You must be currently serving cross-culturally.

3. The post must be universal in scope, appealing to any woman whether single or married, with or without kids, youngish or oldish...

And may I suggest heading over to the WOTH Writer's Blog today. Our guest host and author, Taryn Hutchison has some inspiring ideas on writing!

Other blog news: WOTH will be debuting a new blog, similar in style and scope to Coffeegirl, on Wednesday, January 6.

Have a great week, Cindy