Friday, August 21, 2009

Dancing

I spent a month in Mozambique last year. Part of that time was in the northern city of Pemba. When I first got there, some Mozambicans were teaching us some dances.
As some of you know, I don't dance. I just don't. It's not even that I can't...although that is part of it. I just don't.
I have no rhythm. None. I can't even lead my students in clapping because I have to concentrate so hard on keeping the right rythm that it makes the song no fun. Another aspect of my non-dancing is that I just am not graceful. I'm about as graceful as a llama on rollerskates in church. Dancing and me don't mix. And I just don't find it fun to have people watch me flailing on the dance floor. I actually find it very not fun. I do love to watch other people dance, though.
But anyways, back to what I was saying...I was in Mozambique and I was just wishing that I could dance and that I enjoyed dancing and it turned into a prayer. "Lord, teach me to dance" was my silent prayer for the next three weeks. Even though I knew the insignificance of the prayer, I prayed it anyways because I just wanted it so much and it made me excited to think that God is capable of giving me graceful rhythm.
So, I prayed. And I still didn't like dancing. Even in my room where nobody was watching. I prayed and I still tripped over my feet. I prayed and I still could only do the White Girl Dance...and even that I did poorly. I wasn't disappointed. I just kinda let go of the dream. Took it as a "No" from God.
But the night before I left Mozambique several people I had met prayed over me. And four times those praying over me said "The Lord loves your dance". I hadn't told anyone about my prayer.
So, I still can't dance. I still don't like to dance. But my prayer was answered. Not how I expected. Not how I wanted. But more clearly than I could have imagined. I won't always have anwers that are that clear. But I hope that I can see a "no" not as a punishment, but as the Lord answering out of love.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

I Saw You With Your Zipper Down Last Week

That feeling has returned.

The one that I forgot so easily...yet remember so well.
In the United States I am not so self-conceited that I think people think about and/or notice me all the time. But in Brazil, people notice.

I denied it. Thought I could live my life like normal, like I was simply in a new home, until a few instances last year. One of those instances was a guy in the grocery story saying that he noticed that I liked to go for walks. (Yes. This was odd. But it wasn't as creepy as it sounds.) And then I knew. I stick out. Whether it's because I'm an American, I speak English, I'm with a ministry, or I'm just that cool, people notice me...even when I don't notice myself. I feel as if I am on a stage.
It's odd. At home I don't think about my actions and their repercussions nearly as much as I think about them here. I wonder if pastors have this feeling all the time. It's not a bad feeling...just weird. I almost feel selfish, being so aware of what people are thinking of me. But then, what's the answer? When people stare at me, I wonder why. And when people stare all the time, I've got to examine my actions...and my zipper...more frequently then normal.

Anyways, I can't say that I have a conclusion to this post. Nor that I've learned something deep from this self-consciousness. I'm just saying that it's weird.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

First Week of School

The first week of school is over. The building is quiet. I'm tired.
This week was good. Fun. I like teaching.
There are difficulties.
Like Wednesday, when I was trying to control fourteen 4-5 year-olds. The room was way too small. My lesson didn't last long enough. Most of the kids looked at me as if they had never heard English in their lives. That was tough. Real tough.
But a few changes were made and English was successfully taught the rest of the week.
No sweaty, red faced Emily.
My other classes have been really good.
I actually didn't get much complaining for taking a class's weekly hot chocolate and movie days away. Yeah. I'm not as fun as the last teacher.
But, I'm excited for this semester.
We have some great teachers, some good idea, and some fantastic kids.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

I'm BAAAACK!

Here.
In Brazil.
I am.