My Shadow Self

Before moving overseas, I spent some time going through some old stuff. I came across my 8th grade English journal. One of our topics was entitled, “If I could live anywhere...” This is what I wrote:

If I could live anywhere in the world, I would live in Dunlap, Tennessee. My first reason for living here is that my family lives here, and I have lived here all my life. Another reason I would choose living here is because it is not a heavily populated area. My next reason for living here is the climate. In the winter it’s not too chilly, and in the summer the heat is not too sweltering. Hazardous weather is not a problem here. Hurricanes can’t reach here because we are inland. Tornadoes and Earthquakes aren’t here much either. As you can see Dunlap Tennessee is the most sensational place to live in the world.

I have thought of this often as I now live very far from Dunlap, Tennessee. I have thought a lot about the younger me. I was a very picky eater. My dad still jokes that I only liked 3 things when I was a kid: pizza, salad, and chicken. Then there was the time that we went to a giant potluck and I asked if we could go to McDonald’s afterwards to eat because I didn’t find anything I liked. 

A friend came to visit me several weeks ago. As I walked her around my new home, I told her about these things. I told her that the real Candace likes familiar, expectable, and comfortable. The real Candace is a picky eater. The real Candace doesn’t drink coffee or tea. The real Candace likes schedules and certainty and efficiency. The real Candace would rather stay inside reading a book than talk to people. The real Candace despises using the telephone. The real Candace hates change. 

And yet, here I live, not in Dunlap, not in Tennessee, not even in America. I live 6000 miles from home. There is very little in my new city that is familiar or reminds me of home. There are very few things that are constant and expectable here. I rarely find myself comfortable. I eat new things every week. I have tried oysters and intestines, and weird drinks. I drink coffee and tea almost daily, even multiple times a day. I have no kind of schedule here. There is very little that is certain in my life. There is very little efficiency in this place. I spend many hours a week in conversations with others trying to develop my second language. I call people regularly in my second language. My life is in constant change. 

I told my friend about the real Candace but how the redeemed Candace can live here because the power of the Spirit has been changing me, is still changing me. Another friend pointed out to me that she thinks what I call the “real” Candace is actually only my shadow self. If left to myself, that is who I would have been. The real me, the one I’m still becoming is the one who, empowered by the Spirit, can get up every day and live this adventure He has for me. I could not live here without His help, nor would I even want to. But because of Him, because my shadow self is disappearing and the glorious new creation side of me is becoming manifest more and more each day, I not only live here but I enjoy it. Those old characteristics are fading into the shadows.

Ikea Madness

After our van adventure, my friend and I made our way to Ikea. I have written about Ikea before. I have a love/hate relationship with the place. I love the innovations they have that make for more functional homes. I hate actually going there. It wears me out as much as a full day in my second language does. I realized that it is an energy sucker because there are just so many dadgum choices. They have so many pieces that if combined and tweaked just a bit could be a cheap way to hang coats, store shoes, organize the kitchen, etc. I only make it there about once a year and it’s usually because I have lots of needs. This time my major needs included storage options for my kitchen and bathroom and for shoes and coats in my entry way. That was triple torture. And of course there are always other things sparked in one’s mind as one walks around that giant place. It’s hard to make decisions for anything at Ikea because there are literally hundreds of options. To add to all that, my brain was already worn out from moving, unpacking, and hosting guests. In about a four hour period, I managed to make it through the showroom with some ideas, eat some dinner, and pick up a few small household items. As I approached the checkout area, to my horror, there were weekend holiday shopping kind of lines. I managed to find a credit-card only line that was hidden by a column and made it out in 15 minutes. My friend did not fare so well. She got behind a family buying $2000 worth of stuff. 

We had to leave because my roommate was arriving that night. We were a bit late in picking her up. After getting her some food, we returned our friend’s house to get some rest. Having not finished up at Ikea the night before, we decided to get there when it opened to beat the crazy weekend crowds. We did beat them, but unfortunately it took another 5 hours to finalize decisions, buy other small needs, pick up the furniture, and load it into the van. We ran into long check out lines again. These crowds were like Black Friday kind of crowds. We’re talking 19 registers with a minimum of 6 people in each one. Even the Ikea employees were saying something was strange about the weekend.

I survived crazy, crowded Ikea

We made it home and the next night the roomie and I decided to work on putting together the shoe storage piece I had bought. We spent 3 hours working on the thing before having to retire for the night. We finished it the following night after another hour’s worth of labor. Somehow even after I leave, Ikea continues to suck the energy from me. 

Do you see that? Two egg cartons worth of screws and
other pieces.

The Great Van Adventure

My friend and I regularly marvel at the bizarre things we experience daily that seem quite normal to us. Recently, we found ourselves in the big city. We were back in the second hand district with our friend, Abbas. Most locals like to buy brand new, white or brightly colored, flashy, gaudy, sparkly furniture. I tend to prefer the old, wooden look. Because the locals don’t like the wooden look, very few second hand places stock those nice, wooden pieces. Usually they tell folks to take those kinds of things to the dump. But this guy has an eye for those things and sometimes we can find nice pieces at his place. After a cup of tea and a good dresser find, he told us that he had a piece at his house that we might like. He offered to take us there to look at the pieces. Since he has proven himself nothing but trustworthy in the past and there were two of us, we agreed, hoping to find another treasure. 

He offered to drive us in what some might describe as a “kidnapper van.” There were no seats in the back so he placed a piece of furniture that resembles an ottoman into the van for us to sit on. As we zoomed down streets, he turned prematurely, making it necessary to go in reverse toward three lanes of traffic at the intersection. During this part of the trip, it hauntingly came back to our minds that, not 20 minutes ago, his vision was so poor that he could not tell the difference between a hinge and a door pull. We pulled up to another intersection and waited. A helper came out and brought him a key. We asked why this helper had a key to his house. The key was for a storage unit not his house. Then we drove up to someone’s house. I’m still not sure who lived there. His daughter came out with another key and hopped into the van with us. We dropped her off somewhere else before arriving at his storage unit. When I say storage unit, I mean warehouse. Furniture was stacked from floor to ceiling with aisles in between. He had one wooden piece with some gaudy elements. We asked if he had anything else in that giant place. That was the only one. Somehow, he knew exactly what was there. He said stuff rarely stays longer than a month there. 

We hopped back in the kidnapper van. With dread, we heard the engine try to turn over without actually starting. My friend and I actually had a lot to do that day and did not plan to get stuck in a kidnapper van in a random and unfamiliar neighborhood. We had not eaten breakfast or lunch by this point either. It felt a little stressful too so converted our stress into laughter to stay sane. Abbas kept trying to turn the engine over. He fiddled with the battery and made some phone calls. As we waited, he offered to get us some tea. We said it wasn’t necessary. I felt bad for the guy. In that week alone, his mom had been in an accident and had to have emergency eye surgery. A relative had been unexpectedly arrested and taken in for questioning that very morning. Now he was stranded with a dead battery and two foreign women crazy enough to get in the car with him.  

We asked if anyone could jump him off. In a country that loves to be hospitable, it was surprising that no one offered to help. He told us that no one would have jumper cables in their car. He said some guys were coming to help push the van off. We offered to help push it off but women are not allowed to do such manly things here. Eventually 3 guys show up and push the van off, allowing the engine to start. He showed us pictures of the furniture at his house and we decided it wasn’t quite what we were looking for that day. He took us back to his shop and bought us lunch. This is why we were unafraid to get into the kidnapper van. After lunch, tea, and much talking, my friend bought the awesome dresser set at his place. 

Winged Beasts and Why I Hate Them

As I have aged, I have developed a disdain for birds. With each year, it seems that this disdain deepens. The first time I remember feeling this way was when my friend and I visited an aviary at an amusement park. As I watched the winged creatures zoom across the aviary, landing on whomever they pleased, I felt the need to escape quickly from that awful place. There was something very unnerving about a winged thing entering my personal space without permission.

Several years passed until the next incident happened. For several years, I rented a cabin the weekend before Easter to spend time recharging in silence and solitude and to focus on the reason for the holiday. While there, I decided to do a little painting. It was warm inside so I propped open the balcony door to get a nice breeze. I was in my happy place until IT came. A bird flew into my serene little cabin freaking us both out. There was lots of shooing on my part and lots of pooping on his. In the end, I melted in a heaping, sobbing mess on the bed. My serene weekend was ruined by the intruder. I packed my bags and left early, loathing the little winged creatures a little more. 

Several months passed. I went for a walk around a lake. As I walked, suddenly two birds flew about 5 feet above my head making awful noises. It made my skin crawl. I ran from them and they followed me a distance. In reality it was probably only a few yards. 

At some point after this, my neighbor asked if I could feed her bird while she was on vacation. For some crazy reason I agreed. Why on earth would a bird hater agree to feed someone’s bird for a week? I prayed every.single.time I went over that the thing would just stay in his cage. It was a testing of my nerves. Things went ok that week and I moved on with my life. 

Of course we all remember the Batscapades from last year when 10-11 bats invaded my home at the same time. That was a horror story for this flying creature despising gal. Then earlier this year, I was visiting my friend when I saw an owl in a cage in her living room. Apparently she had rescued the baby owl from some cats and was restoring it back to health. I visited on another occasion and her mom insisted on taking the thing from the cage and holding it for everyone to see. My flight instinct was kicking in and I was ready to dart out of the room as it stared at me. I inched as far away from the beast as I could.

Several weeks ago, I ended up in a nearby city with another friend. I was crashing at a friend’s house but that friend was not in town. My friend and I had to retrieve the key from the building manager’s daughter. When the girl and her father opened the door, I was shocked to see a small bird perched on her shoulder. Surprisingly, I played it cool, thinking it was probably used to people and would stay on it’s normal perch. But I was wrong. It flew into my friend’s hair. I did what any normal winged creature hating person would do. I freaked. I hit the floor in a fetal position and threw my sweatshirt over my head. And then the thing landed on my back. I thought back to that aviary and realized my worst nightmare had come true. I think I kind of blocked things out for a few seconds due to shock but I do remember slowly standing to my feet as the girl retrieved the bird and returned to the door. I slowly began to back away, ready to run should the beast strike again. 

That incident has made me cry multiple times from laughing so hard. I think it was a laugh or cry kind of moment and I chose laughter. What normal human falls to the floor in a fetal position because of a tiny bird? What must those locals have thought of the crazy antics of this foreign woman. We ended up staying there again the next night so I made my friend go ask for the key by herself. I assumed they would put the bird up after our first incident but I didn’t want to take any chances. It was a good choice. My friend said the bird landed on her head this time. I don’t think I would have survived another landing of the beast. In the span of a minute my disdain for winged beasts deepened a bit more. When will this saga end?

Walking on Dry Ground Kind of Day

I recently wrote about learning that I would have to move and the process of trying to find a new place here. Because few people have cars and live in tall apartment buildings, locals typically hire moving companies with moving elevators to move them. I found a good moving company and they quoted me a price for packing up all of my cabinets and dishes as well. The price for this extra service was only an additional $30 so I happily let them do the packing. 

Lami's last view of his first home

How have I acquired so much stuff in so
little time?

As I mentioned, locals use moving elevators when they move. I was moving from the 3rd floor to a 5th floor. No one wants to carry heavy things down stairs so some genius got the bright idea to make a moving elevator. I did see a guy in his 60s, in my new building, carrying a refrigerator on his back up to the 6th floor. Poor guy. The movers took out the big window in my living room and fed things down to the truck below via the elevator. Check out the cool video below of my couch riding down.

I moved on a Thursday and stayed elsewhere that night because my place was total chaos. I didn't sleep too well that night. After I woke, I did a quick mopping job at the old house. I did a Skype lesson after that. Then my friend met me at my new place to help me unpack my kitchen. We did a lot and by the end of several hours, my brain was failing me. I took a nap and then had dinner with some friends. I was so tired from the move and doing everything in my second language that I slept for 11 hours that night!

On Saturday I spent the day trying to get some order in my house. We had unpacked the kitchen boxes and shoved stuff in random cabinets. Now it was time to move the more important things to lower shelves. I spent a long time working that puzzle. I needed a break so I got out to look for some better storage options since my new place has so little storage. On Sunday, I left the whole mess and fellowshipped with my friends at their house. It was good for me to be away. I did a little unpacking when I came home that night.

Monday was the day I needed to take care of moving related business. I made out my overachiever list of things I would like to try to get finished that day: 9 places, 12 things to accomplish. This would be ridiculous even in America. I was stressed about my ridiculous list, knowing WHERE I live and how LONG even one thing can take. On top of that I wondered if I could keep up with these new moving related subjects in my second language. So I prayed. I asked that that day be a "walking on dry ground" kind of day instead of a "wandering around in the wilderness" kind of day. 

I first needed to talk to my landlord, who lives below me, to ask a few questions. She volunteered to keep the electric and water in her name so I wouldn’t have to pay deposits for those things. I needed her account numbers so I could switch my automatic bank payments to the new accounts. I also asked about the missing vent hood. She told me I would have to buy one and when I left I could take it with me. It’s normal here to buy refrigerators, stoves, dishwashers, and washing machines and take those things with you. But normally the vent hood belongs to the landlord. So if I move again I’ll have a vent hood that I won’t need. 

From there I sat out to go shut off the electricity at my old place. The electric office was packed with people. I took a number and waited, wondering if I needed a number or needed to do something different. After a few minutes I asked a lady at a desk and she gave me a form to fill out. She helped me with the places I didn’t understand and then sent me to a teller. When it was my turn with him, the guy spit out a bunch of words that I didn’t understand. When he realized I didn’t understand he said it much more slowly and I understood that my final payment would be automatically withdrawn from my bank account in a few days. Well that was easy. 

From there I needed to cross the road and go to the bank. They’re doing some construction to that road and it’s now not easily crossed. This meant I had to walk even further, passing the furniture store. I couldn’t walk right in front of the store without at least saying hello to CFS. I popped in to do just that. They were busy so I was able to get in and get out quickly. 

I crossed the road. Pedestrians do not have the right of way here. Even when I have a walking man, the cars still have a green light and they feel like they should go first. It’s very frustrating to me. I did make it to the bank but the ATMs were not working due to the construction. That was a bummer because I needed to withdraw money from my American account and deposit it in my local one. I was able to fill out a form to stop my old automatic withdrawals for water and electricity and set up a new one for the water. 

I walked back towards my house and found a working ATM. I withdrew the money then walked back to my bank. Somehow I had missed the fact that the whole bank system was shut down so they couldn’t deposit my money. The main branch was up and running so they said I could go there if I wanted. I despise the main branch because it’s usually full of people and can take up to an hour to simply make a deposit. I realized my bank had an ATM by the shopping center and I had heard you can make deposits at the ATM. I decided to give it a try and it worked! That saved so much stress from my day. 

I stopped by the supermarket to buy some things. I ended up with more than I could carry. Normally I can walk from the supermarket to my house in less than ten minutes. But with the road work, I would have to walk way out of my way to get to my house. I decided to take the bus. Yes it’s lazy but it saved me from having to try to carry more than I could carry. 

I had a bit of lunch before I was out again. I stopped by the census office to notify them of my address change. Apparently if you wait more than a week or two to do this, they give a $100 fine. I had been to the office twice before. The first time there was no wait and I was in and out in ten minutes. The second was when I was renewing my residence permit. My art teacher had a connection there and called ahead so I could go directly to a director’s office. He took care of what I needed. You can imagine my horror when I walked to the correct floor and saw people standing everywhere. I almost backed out and decided to come the next morning. I took a number and realized I had about 60 people in front of me. I did notice that the numbers were moving fast and there were 11 tellers to handle the crowd. Finally my number was called and a lady updated my new address in their system. I had to go from there to a line so the director could sign my paper. Although it felt like I was there for an eternity, I was in and out in about 40 minutes.

Long lines

From there I went to the internet office to see why my internet was still not working. In the “take a number” line, I overheard that the girl in front of me had the same problem. I was able to follow her around to get this problem rectified. We had to go to the complaint office. He asked for our internet numbers. I showed him my account number but he said that was wrong. I had to go to the solution desk to get my internet number and then go back to him. He did lots of typing before telling me that someone would come to my place the following day to check things out. 

I left there and picked up some plastic storage containers to help me with my storage problems. I ran into AB, my old security guard, at one of the places. He makes my heart so happy. From there I went to the appliance store to buy an oven and vent hood. It’s the same place where I had bought my fridge, washing machine, and a few smaller items. I had been in the previous week so the owner remembered me. We verified which oven I wanted and I also picked out a vent hood. The vent hood only ended up being about $65 so I wasn’t too upset to have to get one. It’s an inconvenience but it wasn’t an astronomical one. 

With that finished I had one last thing on my list that needed completed that day. I needed a washer hookup with two nozzles for the hot and cold water hookups. I stopped by the bathroom fixture store by my house and the ladies there helped me get the right thing. 

I went home, ate some food, and took a break. Then I unpacked two rooms of my house. Ladies and Gents, I made it to 8 places, marked off 10 things from my list AND still had time to unpack two rooms. Oh my God sure is gracious to me. Only He could work such miracles. It was indeed a “walking on dry ground” kind of day. 

Gracious and Merciful on Repeat

In the process of trying to find a new home, I lost my residence permit that gives me permission to live here. There are lots of reasons why that was stressful. After checking the places where I thought it might be, I became more stressed at the thought of trying to sort out the process of getting a new card AND trying to move across town at the same time. I asked some friends to pray that the card turn up and then I got wise enough to pray myself. To be honest, I felt like my prayers were futile and the card was lost forever. Then one day I went to the supermarket I frequent. As I was leaving the cashier told me to go by the customer service desk because my permit card was there. Later in the pazar area, another cashier chased me down to make sure I knew my card was at her store. Then a few days later, yet another cashier passed the word along. After that experience I wrote, “Sometimes it’s good to be the weird foreigner who sticks out in a place.” I’m ashamed to say I’d given up hope but thankful for grace that’s there even when I’m struggling to believe.

I’ve been slowly making my way through the Old Testament. I read in Deuteronomy 30 that God was fully aware that Israel would disobey Him. He said WHEN the curses would come upon them and WHEN they returned from exile He would again bless them. His knowledge of their future disobedience did not deter him from lavishing them with grace in the present and again after their repentance. I was struck by the fact that He knew they would whore after other gods, forsaking Him, and still he lavished them with grace. I think so often that when I sin and don’t see immediate consequences that I have somehow pulled the wool over God’s eyes. He must not have seen that discrepancy. The reality is that He sees all my sins past, present, and future and yet He still forgave, still gave me blessings that would cause my heart to wander. He still gave Jesus. Jesus, the ultimate promised land. He gave Jesus even though He knew that I would often forsake Him after receiving this wonderful gift. 

I love that after I face the consequences of my sins, He is there waiting with open arms. I watched a movie called, “Hello, My Name is Doris.” In the movie, the main character, Doris, is a sixty something single woman who develops a crush on a young coworker and begins to romantically pursue him. In the process of her pursuing him, she abandons her annual Thanksgiving meal with her close friends to throw herself at him. When she comes home, rejected, her best friend is there to put an arm around her. While Doris’s abandoning is just a fraction of the heinousness of me pursuing other gods, my God is ready with open arms when I realize that the idol was simply another broken jar. My God is patient and kind. He doesn’t keep a score of wrong or else who could stand? He welcomes me back to His presence. 

So with all of that swimming around my brain, and tired from the busy pace of life, I sat down one day to pray and process. The Father brought Exodus 34:6 to my mind. Over and over I meditated on “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness.”

Merciful

Gracious

Slow to anger

Abounding in steadfast love

Merciful -- Gracious -- Slow to anger -- Abounding in steadfast love

Merciful

Gracious

Slow to anger

Abounding in steadfast love

Merciful. 

Gracious. 

Slow to anger. 

Abounding in steadfast love. 

This is who my God is. He knows all of my sins. He knows what I did in the past. He knows my current sins. He knows the ways I will rebel and disobey in the future. In spite of this, He still sent His special son. I deserved death and Hell but in place of what I rightfully deserved, He gave life and peace. Now I can come to God’s wide open arms at any moment. Merciful. Gracious. Slow to anger. Abounding in steadfast love. This is my God. 

Drinking from Broken Jars

I was recently struggling with finding satisfaction in places that cannot satisfy. God used this song to bring me back to the truth that He alone can satisfy. I love the line, “Drinking from broken jars at best.”

I’m setting myself up for pain

Seeking in them what is not gain

A cycle of expectation and 

Disappointment never end

Loneliness and despair

Take over my thoughts even though You’re there

All I ever wanted was          

to be someone’s object of love

Consumed by our own emptiness

We look to each other for peace and rest

Drinking from broken jars at best

Drinking from broken jars at best

Why does my heart seek another love

Restless in Your arms of love

You have the key that unlocks my heart

But I refuse to believe and then depart

Knowing that I will go astray

You search my heart anyway

Release my grip from these jars with gentleness

Release my grip from these jars with gentleness

I only run cause it hurts so bad

Rejection is pain that should not be had

Will I be safe when I’m with You

Free from the past made pure and new

This is love is sacrifice

Though his love unrequitedly laid down his life

Replacing our jars with Jesus’ death

To set us free from hopelessness

You set me free from my hopelessness