The Greatest of These is Love...

(1 Corinthians 15)

1 If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. 4 Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant 5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; 6 it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. 7 It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 8 Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. 9 For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; 10 but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end. 11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

Today's blog post is a brief one and it's about love.

Today's worship at Christmas included the infamous "love is patient" passage from Paul's letter to the Corinthians.  I say it's infamous, because, well, it is, but also because it's typically used for weddings or other romantic occasions (*see the hospital sick scene with Mandy Moore in A Walk to Remember).  I think this struck me today in church, more so than normally, about the type of love within friends and people.  I thought of Randy's "Agape" meal during staff training at Lutherlyn every year.  Agape love, which is the "Christian love" of the Bible, means affection, benevolence, good-will, high esteem and concern for the welfare of the one loved.  It is deliberate, purposeful love rather than emotional or impulsive love.  

So I then read this description of "love", and I can't help but to think about Valentine's Day.  I've never been depressed on Valentine's Day, or "Singles Awareness Day" as a lot of people say.  I've also never seen Valentine's day as a romantic holiday.  The holiday has always meant getting cards and chocolate from my mom, and has recently included writing valentines to friends, very retro.  I mean, come on, how many college juniors fill out Batman valentines for their friends?  Valentine's Day isn't about roses and teddy bears.  It's about love.   

Agape love, or the concern for the welfare of someone, is very much like my Valentine's Day love.  It's meant to make others feel loved and cherished, and not for a romantic purpose.  Paul's letter to the Corinthians further supports this agape love.  Listening to the EAPPI that read this passage in church today, perhaps because he's British and it just sounded that much more elegant, I feel like I understand it more now.  

"If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing."  I have by no means given away all of my possessions.  In fact, I feel like I haven't given up much in being a volunteer here.  I've given up some mere conveniences for a year, but that's not that much in the grand scheme of things.  I get the sense that people at home feel like I'm doing something much bigger than I think I'm doing.  I'm rambling now.  The point is, that even with living here and "giving up" some basic things to live here, if I'm doing it for my resume or doing it so that I can say, "I lived in Palestine!" then I'm not doing it for the right reason.  The motive behind why you do something speaks much louder than the action itself.  I gain nothing if I do something without love.

I am here with love.  I first wrote, "I think I'm doing this with love," but I changed it, because I am.  I constantly tell kids that I love them, and they tell me.  When asked how I find Bethlehem, I always respond, "Bethlehem helu ikteer.  Behebo hone."  (Bethlehem is very beautiful.  I love it here.)  I'm in love with my work, as difficult and trying as it is.  I love the people.  I love the landscapes.  I love the food.  I love the way they kiss 'hello.'  I love that they welcome me here, and love me.  

One of the kindergartener's moms saw me at church this morning.  I had just said good morning to her daughter, who just sort of stared at me.  Kids here either pretend like they don't know me or they're all over me outside of school.  It was the former.  I looked up at her mom and shrugged.  Her mom, without any prodding, said, "They love you, Miss Merry.  So much!"  And I love them.

That was a somewhat disjointed blog post, and with no cultural significance, but they were thoughts I wanted to share.  

With all my love,

Meredith

Dear future YAGM...

Once again, I've put off writing a blog post, not because I had too much to write, but I felt like I had nothing to write.  I'm sure once I start rambling, I'll be proven wrong.  Here we go.

I think the most pressing thought is that I've been sick...again.  I know this blog isn't meant for you to know about my personal health ailments.  Apparently, past YAGM have used this ministry tool to inform the world of each time they had a bad, eh, "food episode," if you catch my drift.  I'll spare you those details.  Though, I don't have any of those details yet...knock on would.  Anyway, I have a virus.  Again.  I say again, and I say this in a blog post, because I've been sick here more in the last six months, than I have in all four years of college combined.  I've been to the doctor three times here, and that doesn't include every sinus infection, cold, or other ailment.  Most have been sinus/congestion related.  

I want to use this opportunity to not only explain the medical world here, but also about the differences in environment that could be causing repeated illness.

There are a lot of doctors, clinics, and pharmacies here.  In fact, you don't have to go to a doctor to get medicine from a pharmacy.  I would like to think some stuff requires permission, but I had a friend walk into a lab, order a comprehensive blood test, get the results, and go about her merry day--no doctor involved.  Pharmacies are really numerous here.  For instance, when a friend of mine was sick a few months ago, she asked me to pick up her prescription for her.  She told me to check if there was a pharmacy open on my way, just in case the one across from her house wasn't open.  I counted something like, 5 pharmacies within a block of her house.  She does live near the main intersection in Bethlehem, but still.

Most people don't have insurance here.  Medicine and doctors are also really cheap here.  I went to the clinic the other day, and my visit was 15 NIS and my CBC (blood test) was another 15 NIS.  Both, meaning 30 NIS, converts to like, $8.  So, $8 for a doctor's visit and a blood test is CHEAP by our standards.  

There are slightly different sanitary concerns here.  I say this to be educational, not to upset anyone or poorly misrepresent the facilities here.  The doctors and nurses are well trained, most being trained in Jordan or the United States, but we, as Westerners, have different "standards."  Neither we, nor "they", are wrong, but we're different, and that's okay!  In my experiences, as I can ONLY speak from my experiences, rubber gloves are not popular here.  I had blood drawn, no gloves.  The needle came from a vacuum-sealed pack--don't worry, Mom!  There was a mystery drop of blood on the floor from someone other than myself.  

I feel like there were probably a few other "concerns," but I wasn't phased by them.  Not only is this my third visit to a doctor here, but I'm going on six months living here.  I'm not phased by much.  In fact, this is why I don't have much to blog about.  Not much seems "new" or "different."  Life is life here.  I work.  I go to church.  I hang out with friends.  I take a yoga class.  Life is life.  As I said last blog post, life is good.

The other piece of the health thought was talking about the various environmental causes for potentially being sick as often as I have been.  My roommates have also been sick as much as I have, if not more, so I feel like there are definitely outside factors.  To start with, it is a completely different country, with different viruses, and different "air" as everyone says.  We haven't had the necessary rain here, so a lot of "stuff" is still floating in the air.  There is very poor ventilation...everywhere.  Pretty much everyone smokes here.  All the gasoline is leaded, no unleaded gas.  Washing hands is not normal (my roommates got meat from the butcher a few weeks ago and found raw meat chilling on the outside of the bag).  The buildings collect moisture, because of the stone, so we had a nasty mold problem in our house.  It seems to have cleared up, but who knows what we don't see.  I think the final issue, and probably the most pressing, is that I work with kindergarteners.  Kids are gross.  I love them, but I've had more snot and mucus on me, from them, than I need to ever have.  I've come to the conclusion that Palestine should fight against Israeli occupation with chemical warfare...known as kindergarteners.  The new and improved Weapon of Mass Destruction!

The illness issues are especially frustrating, since I specifically got a series of vaccinations before I came here.  Granted, you can't be protected from everything.  I understand this.  I mean, I remember the year that my whole family got the flu shot, except me, and they all actually got the flu, and I didn't.  There are no guarantees when it comes to communicable germs, except that you WILL get them if you're supposed to get them.  I think I got the Hepatitis A, Hepatitis C, and Typhoid vaccination, in addition to a Tetanus booster.  The joy of the Typhoid vaccination, was that I didn't get to start taking it until right before I left, due to a series of unfortunate events.  Typhoid needs to be refrigerated.  I flew out of Pittsburgh with my Typhoid on some ice cubes in a Ziploc baggy.  I told the airport TSA staff that I had "medicine" that needed refrigerated.  I didn't lie.  I also didn't mention that it was live Typhoid.  I flew from Pittsburgh to Chicago, with my iced Typhoid.  I then got a cup of ice from Starbucks to restock my ice, once I got into Chicago.  We had to wait for some others to get in, then a drive to the University of Chicago campus, where we were staying during our in-country YAGM orientation.  I carried my Starbucks cup of ice and Typhoid with me the entire rest of the day, restocking it when I passed an ice machine.  I finally found a refrigerator in our residence hall that night.  I was dubbed 'Typhoid Girl" quickly, because I had to brag what I had in my Starbucks cup.  Oh, and none of the other YAGMs heading to the West Bank or Jerusalem got the Typhoid vaccination.  I was special.

I relive this strange adventure, not to remind other YAGM of their second interaction with me, the first being our interviews.  I also do not tell this story to make any of you concerned to travel, not knowing what others might actually be carrying in their Starbucks cups.  Lastly, I don't tell you this to inform you that I am now, unsusceptible to Typhoid--which I am...in theory.  I tell you this story for this purpose:

Dear Future YAGM or World Traveller Extraordinaires,
Skip the Typhoid vaccination.  Buy a plastic bubble suit, complete with usable arms and legs.
Love,
Meredith

I don't think that this post has been the most useful to your own personal lives, but I hope it was mildly amusing.  It's the mood I'm in right now.

A brief, slightly more sweet story, is that my neighbors invited me in for dessert a few months ago, and lunch a few weeks ago.  I wanted to repay them, so I brought them some cake.  At which point, they served me the cake they had made.  This wasn't insulting my cake, but it was that hospitality they're known for.  I played with their kids, two of which go to Dar Al-Kalima, and take swimming with me.  Their one daughter saw me in school a few days later and asked me to come to their house after school (with no English...I understood her Arabic.  Score.)  I couldn't promise her that day, so I went back the next day.  I went over later in the evening and played with the girls for awhile.  They had balloons and were just having a blast.  Their mom told them it was time for bed, but they were protesting.  I swooped them up and tucked each one into bed.  They loved it.  I loved it.  They didn't fight!  It was so sweet to be able to just kiss each of them on the forehead and know that I made their night as special as they made mine.  The family also gave me a gift of a scene from The Last Supper, hand-carved out of olivewood, because that's the father's business.  It is so, so special to me!  I insisted he autograph the back of it.  I stood up to leave a bit later and the parents insisted I stay longer.  It wasn't fake.  It was real.  We watched TV, talked about Obama, talked about the kids, talked about America, anything and everything.  The mom has awesome English and the dad has none, so I did my best in Arabic, but she had to translate some.  I learned like, ten new Arabic words just from that evening alone though.  I'm really thankful for their family and that night.  :)

I also think I mentioned that Paul was coming back awhile ago.  Well, he's back!  His sister Anni is responding really positively to the cancer treatments she's been getting.  Anni is 19 and has had cancer like, five times since she was 12.  This is the best she's ever received a treatment though, so we're all really happy!  Keep praying for their family though.

Prayer Requests:
**Pray for eternal peace for Mrs. Wolfe.  She passed away this week.  She will be greatly missed, but as my mom said, "She'll be with her Nevin."  Also, please pray for her family.

**Pray for Cinnamon and her family.

**Pray for Andrea and Aphera.

**Pray for those struggling with finding a future or understanding a past.

New Facebook photo albums: 

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013045&id=175200680&l=40869

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2013046&id=175200680&l=d81af

They mostly contain pictures of my kindergarteners at DAK.  There are some pictures from the Holmans' housewarming party (the Pastor Mark and Marcia, of Redeemer Lutheran in Jerusalem), an engagement party, and welcoming Paul back.

With great joy,

Meredith

PS...service at Redeemer Lutheran in Jerusalem last Sunday was PHENOMENAL!!!  I can't totally explain it, but the music was great, there were a lot of people, and just a good worship planned.  Kudos, Pastor Mark and Pastor Mike.  My favorite new hymn was there too, which is #723 in the new cranberry hymnal.  It's call the "Canticle of Turning."  I feel like I've referenced it before, but here it is again.  It's really very powerful to me right now.

My soul cries out with a joyful shout that the God of my heart is great,
And my spirit sings of the wondrous things that you bring to the ones who wait.
You fixed your sight on the servant's plight, and my weakness you did not spurn,
So from east to west shall my name be blest. Could the world be about to turn?

Refrain:
My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

Though I am small, my God, my all, you work great things in me.
And your mercy will last from the depths of the past to the end of the age to be.
Your very name puts the proud to shame, and to those who would for you yearn.
You will show your might, put the strong to flight, for the world is about to turn.

Refrain

From the halls of power to the fortress tower, not a stone will be left on stone.
Let the king beware for your justice tears ev'ry tyrant from his throne.
The hungry poor shall weep no more, for the food they can never earn;
There are tables spread, ev'ry mouth be fed, for the world is about to turn.

Refrain

Though the nations rage from age to age, we remember who holds us fast:
God's mercy must deliver us from the conqueror's crushing grasp.
This saving word that our forebears heard is the promise which holds us bound,
'Til the spear and rod can be crushed by God, who is turning the world around.

My heart shall sing of the day you bring.
Let the fires of your justice burn.
Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws near,
And the world is about to turn.

Life is life. Very good.

Masa il'her!  (Good evening!)

By the time I come home in July, I expect you to all know the amount of Arabic I've used in my blogs, so we can communicate.  There will be a test.

I haven't written in a few days.  It's not because I haven't wanted to, but it's because I feel like I've lacked anything significant to write about.  I think that's significant in itself.  People ask me how I'm doing and if there's anything new.  I seriously don't have anything new to say, because life is life here.  

My mom's coming to visit me soon...one month from today, actually!!!  I've been thinking about what will seem peculiar to her when she's here, versus what I think is peculiar, now that I've lived here for almost six months.  

On my list, I could only come up with a few things that still stand out as "odd" to me.  The shepherds will occasionally herd their flock through the streets of Bethlehem.  I'm still not over that.  In fact, there are a few shepherds that bring their flock into our front yard to eat garbage.  I went to dump water off the porch one day and would have dumped it onto six sheep nibbling on our porch.  The fact that there are an absurd number of police officers on the street right now, that direct traffic, rather than installing traffic lights seems odd.  I think that's about all I can come up with.  I mean, I'm fairly used to being honked at constantly.  People honk here for a wide range of reasons--taxis offering rides, friends saying hello, cars letting other cars know that they're behind them, to "flirt" with young women walking on the street, and probably other reasons too.  I'm so used to honking now, and not turning around for a honk, unless my name is used, that I actually almost got hit by a small bus tonight.  Good times.

I think it will be interesting to have her come here and realize how many things are normal.  I mean, I was in Jerusalem the other day, on the bus, and one of the Muslim prayer times had just ended.  Traffic was backed up and the Old City walls were on the left and we had just come through an intersection where you can see the Dome of the Rock.  There were over one hundred hijab-clad women and men carrying prayer rugs.  That is so normal for what I see on a daily basis.  That's not normal in my Marion Center or Greensburg or Butler life.  It's just not.  

I'm sure what is "normal" changes with each place you live.  I mean, I went to New York City last spring, for the first time actually, with my mom and my sister.  My mom grew up on Staten Island, NYC.  Watching her in the city was like watching a beautiful swimmer or a skilled pianist.  She was so in her element.  She knew how to get around, despite living away from there for at least 30 years.  It was phenomenal!  She lives in Marion Center now, where knowing how to use crosswalks (NYC crosswalks, that is), the subway, and how to hail a cab, aren't exactly helpful.  Her "normal" has changed.  My normal has changed.  I don't think I know how significantly it has changed yet though.

On a brief note, school was good this week.  The kids were half misbehaving severely and half extremely darling and sweet.  For instance, the little boy that used to fill the soap dispenser with water decided to slap my butt on Tuesday.  He slapped it so hard, that I yelped, and grabbed my butt in pain.  It hurt!  For a five year-old, that kid has a hard hit!  I told him I was very upset and asked him if that's how he treats his friend.  He just sorta smiled devilishly.  The teacher walked in the room right as I asked him this, so she asked what happened.  I told her.  I left shortly after that, so I don't know what happened that day.  The next day I went in though, his two cousins, who are also in the class, came over and said, "Yessin mit esef, habibti."  (Yessin is sorry, sweeheart.)  I just said, "Tayyib."  (Okay).  I kinda had forgotten about it at this point.  It was a new day.  I wasn't holding a grudge against a five year-old.  I have more important things to hold grudges about!  He looked really upset and was sitting by himself though.  When I finished helping the student I was working with, I stood up and Yessin came over.  He gently took my hand and said, "Ana mit esef, habibti.  Bihebick, habibti." (I'm sorry, sweeheart.  I love you, sweeheart.)  And proceeded to very sweetly kiss my hand.  I melted.  :)

Yessin's cousin, Nadim, also had an interesting English breakthrough this week.  I'm not really sure where he learned it, but he suddenly started saying, "Very good", while holding a 'thumbs up'.  He clicks his tongue and sort of winks after he says it too.  It's so funny!

One of my favorite recent successes was last week sometime.  The kindergarten teacher, Miss Halla, handed me a bunch of things to hang back up on the bulletin boards.  I hung her laminated Arabic letters first, because they were just magnets and I know which way they go.  She had also handed me these little foam numbers with plus, minus, and equals signs.  It took me about ten minutes, but after looking at the number chart on the wall (with no English on it, mind you), I put the equations on the board.  Math equations read right to left, just like words do, so it wasn't quite what I expected.  After I finished rearranging it several times to be correct, I stepped back and just sort of nodded my head.  Miss Halla was working with the class on the carpet, and she noticed what I had done and started yelling excitedly, "Shatra ikteer, Miss Merry!  Inti shatra!  Shuft, tulab, heyay mumtaaz!" (Very clever/smart, Miss Merry!  You're smart!  Look, students, she's very interesting!)  The kids didn't seem nearly impressed, but I think it's because they still haven't figured out that I don't actually speak Arabic.  In fact, at least one kid, almost daily, asks Miss Halla why she talks to me in English.  I have to remind myself that they're five years old. :)

The custodian/random woman (they seem to have a lot of people here that act as "whatever needs done, I'll do it" type of people) has started trying to teach me more Arabic.  It's really sweet, because I thought she hated me.  She just seemed unhappy and would walk past me everytime I said good morning.  I think we're finding our relationship now though.

I think that's all from the Holy Land.  

Remember: questions, comments, or concerns are always welcomed!!!

**I ask that you continue praying for Cinnamon.  It sounds like things are getting worse and much harder for her family.  Pray for her mom especially.  

**Pray for Andrea.  She has experienced a great loss.

**Pray for Aphera.  She has also experienced a great loss, and doesn't know how this will affect her work.

**Pray for Paul coming back to us, but also for Anne and his family.

Just love.  It's sometimes all we have, but that's like saying all you have is a-bazillion dollars.

Always,
Meredith