Appreciating the Anti-missed.

  The countdown has begun. Two weeks from right now, enormous suitcases packed in my Dad's car and ready to rumble, we will drive to Briefing, convene with our wonderful team, and begin our El Salvador journey. El Salvador will be real again.
  When I really stop to think about it, going to back to El Salvador seems like the most unreal, and natural thing that I could do. But, lot has happened since June 30, 2009.


July 1, 2009: I woke up in the house of the boy who I really, really liked (and unadmittedly to him, loved), in a hot, seemingly unattractive town I had visited once called Bakersfield. I felt relieved, shy, unsure, thrilled out of my mind, and somehow completely at home. But I missed El Salvador.
  That day, I missed El Salvador in practical, tangible ways. I missed having a closet where my clothes lived, recognizing which roommate was walking down the stairs simply by the unique pitter-patter of their footsteps, and knowing that my day would certainly hold the kind of spontaneous adventure that I look forward to in each day. I missed El Salvador.
  I also anti-missed El Salvador the most that day. The stomach-twisting fright every time buses passed on each side of us on a narrow city street; the way I watched the worst of my American arrogance come out when we waited in line to pay bills at the bank; the anticipation of how my stomach may or may not respond the to eatings of the day... perhaps I did not miss El Salvador!


June 28, 2011: Today, I woke up in the the house of that same boy who I really, really like and now admittedly love with all of my heart. It's a different house, one that we have called our own for over a year now, thanks to the sanctioning of God and the State of California in Holy Matrimony. It's the same heat, even that same town of Bakersfield, and today, I look forward, not back, to El Salvador.
  You see, for the last two years, I have missed El Salvador in much less practical, less tangible, but in oh such deep, soul churning ways. And GET OUT! I now miss the things that I anti-missed! Rooting my guy teammates on as they got us through the narrow passageways between the two buses on the narrow city streets; getting a glimpse into "normal" Salvadoran life as I watched war-torn grandpas and globalizing young business women wait in line to pay their bills at the bank too; and boy, do I even miss the laughs, the predictions, the indiscreet dinner conversation, the unsightly panic, that came with the various eatings of the day!
  Today, I look at missing the things that are so familiar, so tangible about my life here: that I have a closet to hang my clothes, a husband who's footsteps I anticipate climbing the stairs each day, and our own sense of simple life adventure. I will miss Bakersfield.
  And I'm quite sure that I will anti-miss parts of Bakersfield (no duh, some of you may be muttering). The current condition of sweating in my own apartment, the faint hint of cows in the air, the fact that the one decent coffee shop is 15 miles away from my house...


God, grant me the change of heart and mind that I might learn to appreciate what you have for the now, that I could identify the things that I will anti-miss and thank You for the ways that you have expanded my life because of them. In other words, God, can I someday just learn to be grateful where I am for what I have!?!?!
  
And maybe that's why I get a second chance at El Salvador. To relearn. To appreciate and praise the Giver. Ah-ha!
  
Time, sweet time, how you turn life's greatest everyday challenges into the nostalgic joys of yesterday. As I prepare for the Great Return to El Salvador, you remind me that no annoyance, no inconvenience, no fear, no conflict, is irreparable, because of the God-given gift of memories and second chances.


And readers, feel free to make me read this again in four weeks.

24.

I'm learning about becoming a big kid. An adult, I guess you could call it. 

You see, two scenarios can occur when I enter a grocery store. Scenario #1... I meander the aisles, checking my list, planning meals in my mind, daydreaming about a future of deciding between carrot sticks or Gushers for a houseful of hungry children, thinking about how blessed I am to live a life where there even is a choice of vegetables or fruit snacks. This awareness of blessing draws my mind to begging children and less than meager fruit stands in places I love to visit, or even immerse myself in. I come to, finding my cart halted in the aisle, my mind having wandered to the great poverties of the world, and whether I should buy these groceries anyway. That, my friends, is my successful and frustrating "ADULT" shopping trip. 

Scenario #2: the FRIVOLOUS, FUN trips! The ones where I feel like a kid. Maybe a college kid, but still a kid. Joe & I are spontaneously having people over, I pick up the DiGiorno, ignore my attempts at balanced meals, realize I'm out of hair spray, see some Sour Patch Kids that Joe would really like, and get in line. I look in my basket at these random provisions, peer over my shoulder, and see that mid-30's mom with a cart full to bursting. Does she see me? Does she think that I'm 19? Does she know that my life is far more mature than 19- that I have graduated from my "free as a bird" college days and have a real husband, real demands, a real budget, a real life? Does she know that I am really an adult?! 

Sooo, I linger. Clearly I desire the simplicity of youth. I'm not so ready to give up the "eat when I want, what I want, with whomever I want" way of life. Clearly I also desire to be seen as mature, responsible, and transitioning seamlessly into others-centered adulthood. I'm going to venture and say boldly to myself: NEITHER MATTERS! 

My 20's don't always make sense. I can sit in important business meetings, AND I can eat frozen yogurt for dinner. I can have a spur of the moment picnic with my husband, AND I can consider selling all I have for the sake of the poor. Welcome to the balance.

You see, I am beginning to think that adulthood simply means choosing who you are going to be and living in to it.  I am committed to choosing people over tasks, and even choosing joyful celebration as often as possible over routine and structure. I hope that continues for the rest of my life. At the same time, I long, more than almost anything, to become increasingly selfless. To start small. To put something back on the shelf and buy a struggling friend dinner. To be willing to share a meal with a fatherless child instead of with my five favorite friends. I'm making choices about who I am going to be.

For today, I'm not going to choose one or the other. This is the day that the Lord has made... I will rejoice, be glad, and live into it! Adult. Or Kid. For now, we'll just settle on 24 year old. 

12 Then he turned to his host. “When you put on a luncheon or a banquet,” he said, “don’t invite your friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors. For they will invite you back, and that will be your only reward. 13 Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. 14 Then at the resurrection of the righteous, God will reward you for inviting those who could not repay you.” Luke 14:12-14

Jumbled Me.

Okay, so it's time to be honest. I set this blog up six months ago, then have spent the last six months chickening out about sharing my thoughts with the world. 

My long-pondered conclusion: I think I like blogs. I've never been much of a computer person. Well, not a cool one anyway. Two of my dearest friends are on the constant up and up about the blogging world, due to both hobbies and occupations. I, on the other hand, am usually the one up on the latest facebook gossip... who's engaged to whom and the like. Try as I might to fake it, I'm not really a book-reader either, sans the Bible or a solid page-turning mystery. But, since I really like people, and I already spend excessive time perusing "the cheap stuff" on Facebook, I might as well be a blog reader. And therefore a blog writer (maybe).

So who really knows what this space will provide. Yes, Joe & I get to do some fascinating and fun things with our lives. Yes, we live as much a life of friendship, travel, and compassion as we can. Perhaps we'll share some life highlights here and there. 

But really, it is this thought that has constipated my blog-venturing ability:  "What is the point of displaying pieces of my life for the world to see?" I know some things that I don't want to do. I don't want to glorify my life, my accomplishments, my blessings. In fact, I'd like to give you my take straight: "Every good and perfect gift (which my life is in many ways) is from Above..."  On the other hand, I don't want to make my life out for less than it is (as my person is naturally prone toward being a discontented poop). Thus, as I  live in a balance that I am aiming for in the whole of my life, I will try to be completely honest here. Not because I get to hide my face in cyber space with no risk of failure, no. In fact blogging, in an age where your coolness is measured by how penetrating, or adorable, or snarky your blog is, feels quite risky to me. BUT!  I am growing to believe that complete honesty warrants complete freedom and real intimacy among friends. And those outcomes, both freedom and intimacy, breed abundant living- my great desire! 

So first, allow me to introduce some pieces of me:

• I have a husband. His name is Joe. Joseph Earle Cabalka to be exact. He is the wise and steady to my over-analytical and emotional, the free-spirit to my conformist, the happy-go-lucky to my... occasional roller coaster. He dreams, I initiate.  He bakes, I cook. He bikes, I go to the gym. He entertains, I ask questions. So, we're a little bit more different than we realized in the beginning! But, we are really, really thankful to give our lives to one another. 
• I don't really have hobbies. I've grown in my appreciation for cooking, I like to take walks, and I speak Spanish. However, I'd say that each of these hobbies rarely happens more than 2 or 3 times a week, or sometimes a month, thus making them feel not so much like hobbies.
• I collected bunnies- pets, figurines, stuffed animals, you name it- as a child. Snuggles, Cinnabon, Sarah, Bodega, Snuggles 2... I haven't seen any of you in over 10 years. But boy did I love bunnies. 
• I learned how to put window blinds up and down for the first time about two years ago. I googled it.
• If given the money (or maybe even not), if you asked us Cabalkas to go travel the world with you right now, for any reason at all, we'd be all in. Pretty much no questions asked.

Amidst all of my jumbled insecurity of this whole deal, I am not even writing because I am everyone's worst "keeping in touch friend" (which I undoubtedly may be), or not even because I truly will find it entertaining to update you on the comings and goings of my life. My "secret corner of my heart" reason is quite simple:  I believe that I am not telling my story often enough. Furthermore, I believe that the story of the God who created me is not told often enough. So, as my own story weaves into His greater, forever and ever eternal story, in remarkable and minuscule ways, we will carry on together. 

And don't be surprised if I write about dumb stuff, too.