Saying Yes and Saying No

 There are two projects that hang over me. Two goals that I constantly long to take time for. The first is organizing family pictures and videos. We have hundreds of thousands of them and they are everywhere. Phones, computers, iCloud, Dropbox, hard drives. They are partly organized in half a dozen ways. A total mess. Such a mess that I don’t even know where to begin. But I want to. I tell myself, “this will be the year” I imagine Christmas morning, the girls unwrapping photo boxes of their special memories, of spending a few hours watching family videos, that have been gleaned from the mess of the black hole of my computer. So, I’m putting it out there. I’m writing it down. This will be the year.

The second project is this blog. Each time I finish a post I have a deep feeling of satisfaction. I love taking the time to reflect, to share, to remember. I love connecting the dots and seeing where God is working. I love that writing makes me slow down. Appreciate the tender moments and preserve them for the future. But, just like the pictures I get overwhelmed with the mess. The mess of my thoughts. Where do I begin?

My mom and I have often laughed as we pray, “God don’t give us anymore ideas!” Programs, parties, projects…the ideas just keep coming and I know that God is in them, but there is something in me that is longing to stop doing more and just sit and soak in what God has done. It may sound easy enough to an outsider, but it’s never been easy for me to “just say no” to all of the ideas that fill my mind. To all of the people that I want to encourage to help to show that they matter.

Right now, I am directing a children’s Christmas program at our church, again. I did it last year and it was crazy hard. No one asked me to do it again. If I didn’t do it, it probably wouldn’t have happened and that would have been just fine. Except, I love children’s Christmas programs. They are a precious part of Christmas to me and so I create them wherever I go.

Like most of my big projects, I believe that God is in it at the start and then about half way through I start to wonder if I am just pushing my agenda and calling it God’s? I don’t know. Maybe. It certainly is a lot of work, but that doesn’t mean God isn’t in it. It’s hard and frustrating and time consuming. It takes time from my husband, my kids and it drains me, but that doesn’t mean God isn’t in it.  

Doing is good. God calls us to do. He doesn’t want us hiding our lights under bushels or burying our treasure. But, every “yes” means “no” to something else, usually many somethings and for me, right now too many someones. Sometimes, I’m so busy loving on new people, that I don’t have the time or energy for the people I already love and I want to have time for them. Especially the four in my home. My “Jerusalem.”

I struggle to find balance in filling my time with worthwhile things while they are all away from the house, but then having time and energy for them while they are home. My job, managing the Ambassador’s house, is a perfect fit for me. It is fun and challenging, exactly what I needed with the girls in school. But it is time consuming and can be exhausting. It’s easy for me to give my best outside our home and have very little left at the end of the day.  I’m figuring it out, but it is messy.

Saying “no” doesn’t always makes things easier. After two years of working with the underserved kids in Durumi, it was time for me to say, “goodbye.” Sunday afternoons are a sacred time in a family and it was time for me to slow down and be home. That program is a good thing. It is worthwhile and kingdom building, but it was time. I had to let go, not knowing if it would continue, but trusting God that if he was in it, that it would. And it did…

I started this post at 5:30 this morning, enjoying the quite while the rest of my world wasn’t up yet. The time flew and the quite moments came alive with bleary eyed kids, hot breakfast, packing lunches, a little scripture, a little prayer and hugs as they ran out the door.

Now the day is in full force following through with commitments, yesterday’s yes’s. Some good, some I wouldn’t repeat, but all a part of a plan that I don’t have to know the end of, because I trust the one who does.

I would love to have my pictures organized, have family movies ready to view. I would love to have my thoughts organized, precise, funny, thoughtful – but I don’t and I maybe I never will to my satisfaction. Still I am learning to say “yes.” Yes, to this crazy, busy, can’t do everything I want to do life that I can't control and goes way too fast. I'm learning to enjoy the ride, even if I'm not preserving it for history. 

Maybe if I wait long enough the girls will organize the pictures for me.

Let's try this again

-->

Yes, this is a different blog address.  "The Chronicles of Nigeria" was a fun title, but Nigeria wasn't the beginning of our family adventure and it won't be the end. So, I've transferred everything to my old blog and am picking up writing again...

Monday, July 23, 2018

I feel like I’ve had writers block for a year. Each time I’ve thought about writing I don’t have the time or don’t know where to start or it’s just too hard to capture. But, here I sit with the girls, on a flight from Denver to New York at the end of our summer trip home. A flight that has already been delayed twice and now, just as we were taxing, was delayed again. I’m out of excuses, so here we go…

This past year has been a year of transition. It’s strange, because usually the second year of a two- year assignment is our year to coast, at least for a bit, until we start thinking about the next assignment. But this year was a year of change.

This time last year we were prepping for a possible cross town move. Our compound was going to be renovated and all 14 households would be moving to a shiny new compound. We were told we would be moving as soon as we got back, but we didn’t. Instead we waited and waited.

We loved our Harvard home, even though Sean referred to it as “trailer park chic.” We especially loved the shady yard and the way the compound was set up so that the houses all faced the communal green space. This fostered a wonderful community. We weren’t aching to move just aching to know if we were going to move. That cloud lingered for 6 months, but in January we moved to our brand new, beautiful HUGE home. Now we have 7 bedrooms and 7 bathrooms and Esther, who was part time at Harvard, works full time and has her hands full at Aspen.

We LOVE our new home. My favorite part is the big, eat in kitchen with 3 walls of windows, which let in plenty of natural light. Although, the kitchen is in the basement of the house, two floors from the bedrooms, it opens up to the backyard, which is wonderful for entertaining. We were blessed with the corner lot, so our yard is twice the size of the others and we love sharing it. Sean revived his love of cooking and we find ourselves hosting parties just to share his new recipes.

With all of this unknown, we also anticipated some known changes. After a year of home schooling on our own, it was evident that this was no longer the best choice for Jenna. Among other things, the girls didn’t have a lot of opportunities to make friends. Even though our compound was crawling with kids, and the girls tried and tried, it just didn’t happen. So, in the spring, we decided that she would attend the big international school in the fall. Our extroverted first born cried tears of joy and gratitude when we told her. I’ve never seen a rising 7^th grader so excited to start school.

Jenna is the life of our family party and I knew the change would be hard on her sisters. I jokingly mentioned to a neighbor that we should get a dog, only to find the cutest puppy in our compound was possibly looking for a new home. In May, we welcomed Molly, a 5 months old fluffy, white, Lhasa Opso, to our home. Two weeks later, the girls and I left for the summer. The timing could have been better, but Sean survived (or I should say the dog survived) mostly because of sweet Esther.

In September, we put Jenna on the school bus. She hadn’t lost any of her excitement and not wanting to stifle it, I held back my tears. It was good. The right thing for her, but I would have never guessed that God would choose 7^th grade in Africa, for my first born’s first public school experience.  Plus, I would miss her. As the bus left the compound, followed by an armed security guard, Sophie commented that she never wanted to go to school.

By December she had changed her tune. She missed her big sister and wanted her own friends. One day, she broke into tears and cried, “I just want to go to school!” We talked long enough that I was convinced that it was just a bad week of home schooling. That was a Sunday. On Monday I called the school to ask about her attending, Tuesday she shadowed, Thursday she tested and (only because there wasn’t school on Friday) and the next Monday she got on the bus with her sister, with only a week and half of school left before Christmas break.

It was a whirlwind and I was in shock. With Jenna, I got to finish out the year, but with Sophie I didn’t even get to finish the semester. In just a handful of days I went from being her teacher to just being her mom. A fact that she would remind me of during the next few months. I had plans, good plans, plans that I was excited about, but God had different ones. My plans have been turned upside down enough that I have learned I can either grieve the change with bitterness or grieve it with joy. Considering it was Christmas, I gave into the joy.

And then there was one. Well, one and a fluffy puppy. God was so good to provide that playmate for Rachel. He knew. Up until this point, Rachel was cruising along easily with her schooling, except for one big area, reading. I tried a handful of different curriculums. I tried giving her a break and starting over. I thought she was just a slow reader or maybe just needed more time and more attention. So, with her sisters gone I assumed that it wouldn’t be long until she experienced the joy of independent reading. But, she didn’t.

Weeks turned into months and the frustration grew as the tears flowed. Talking to some friends and researching online, I realized this wasn’t just a matter of time or repetition. Something wasn’t clicking. I prayed a lot, talked to more friends, read and researched and quickly diagnosed Rachel with dyslexia. At first I was relieved, but when the sadness set in I had to recognize that I was going through the stages of grief. My baby had a disability. An invisible disability. There is lots of help and hope, but it’s a long, difficult road.

Once we recognized the issue and found an amazing online program (www.easyreadsystem.com), we also discovered that her disability has given her amazing abilities. The same brain that mixes up letters, can manipulate numbers and puzzles and see patterns. That creative brain makes treasures from trash and sees potential in everything. The Easy Read program only takes 15 minutes a day and is fun! This freed us up to have more fun with school and spend time on areas where she excels. Math and science are her favorites. No longer stressed and strained because of reading we would spend an hour on math. I’d introduce double digit addition and by the end of the lesson she would be doing triple digit subtraction. We studied the human body for weeks and she loved every minute of it.

Moving forward with answers was wonderful, but I also found myself getting tired and wondering if home school was the only road for Rachel. It was especially difficult keeping up with two at school and having one at home. I still had the hard parts of home schooling, but no long had the perks, like being masters of our schedule. I talked to teachers at the international school, but they said they couldn’t give her anything more than I was giving her and probably less.

Then, one Sunday afternoon, I picked up a new volunteer for my refugee kids program. As we drove to the camp, we chatted and I found out that she is the third-grade teacher at a small private school, that she too has a son with dyslexia and that she has her masters in learning disabilities. I could barely see through my tears to drive (which isn’t good when locals are playing chicken on the freeway and taxis make their own rules about which way traffic is going).

Miriam told me that CTL (http://ctlacademy.org) would welcome Rachel. That they wouldn’t define her by her limitations. That they would give her tests orally, when necessary, and that she would find a safe place to learn and grow.

I visited the school and it felt like a family. It is small. 3-5 kids per grade from nursery school through high school. The students are mostly Nigerian, although there are a few other expats there. It’s less than 10 minutes from our house and there is a school bus.  Before I got home, I was 90% certain that this is God’s will for all three girls.

I knew it wouldn’t be hard to convince Sophie. She liked going to school, but 6:45am bus pick up and the 1 ½ hour round trip to the international school were wearing her out. Her big class was often chaotic and although she had friends, she hadn’t clicked with anyone in particular. 7 ½ hours/week of saved time on the bus was enough to convert her.

Jenna was a different story though. She had a great year. She loved playing a big role in the spring musical and although she didn’t have a best friend, she had a group of friends that she really enjoyed. I prayed and prayed about how to tell her. I asked friends and family to pray. One day, I found her in her room. I explained that this was the only school for Rachel, the better school for Sophie and because we do things as a family, she would be going to CTL too.

She handled it with such grace. I was stunned. She was happy for her sisters. She saw our reasons, even as she grieved leaving a place and people that she loved. Poor kid, three schools in three years and we had’t even move. But she’s resilient, this military, expat kid. She looks for the good and for new possibilities.  She’s not thrilled with the size of the school, but she is excited to have more chances to voice her opinion, to develop her own voice. She’s excited be closer to home and therefore have more opportunity for after school activities. Oh, and when we found out that the secondary is planning a trip to Greece to study ancient history, she got a glimpse of the good that God has for her at CTL.

The reason we can enjoy our new home and anticipate a new school year is that last fall (or maybe winter it all blurs together and the weather doesn’t change much), Sean and I decided to accept the Ambassadors informal request for him to extend our tour an additional year. Work is good in Nigeria and the possible follow up assignments weren’t compelling. It took all of an hour to make the decision. My first year here, I would have never dreamed that I would be willing to sign up for a 3^rd, but when the moment came it was an easy decision for us to make.

The work Sean is doing here is making a tangible difference in the Nigerian military. He is building relationships, giving guidance and selling equipment that will guide the future of this increasingly important country. He’s growing professionally and personally and we are growing as a couple and a family.

We have found wonderful community here. When you can’t leave the city and there’s not that much to do within your boundaries, you make fast friends and plan your own fun. Many of those friends left this summer and I will miss them tremendously, but new ones are coming. We are surrounded by fascinating people who have lived all over the world. Life is a challenge in Abuja, but that community is good. Plus, a chance to live anywhere for more than 2 years is always welcome.  

All of this change for the girls, means changes for me too. When we first decided that all three would go to school I thought I would take a year “off.” Our life hardly ever slows down and I saw this next year as a bonus year for me. A year to catch up on projects, maybe learn new skills or just read a lot of good books. But, late in the spring I had a few days with nothing much to do. As I sat at our kitchen table, trying to get into a novel and watching Esther joyfully cleaning our house I thought, “I need to find something purposeful to do or I am going to go crazy!” So, I talked to Sean and prayed a bunch and applied for the only job that I could really see myself enjoying, managing the Ambassador’s house. This means helping plan and orchestrate events and parties, keeping the staff of about 8 informed and professional, making sure the house itself is polished and represents America well and greeting those who visit with “Welcome to America’s home.”

Filling out the application and putting together my resume, I realized that I hadn’t applied for a job in 18 years and hadn’t worked outside the home in 15! But, this job is sooo me!!! I interviewed and was offered the job. I say that cooly, but the waiting was nerve wracking. I knew I would be great at the job, but would they want me? They do and I am so thankful. I had a week of training before going back to the States for the summer. As the former manager (and one of my best friends in Abuja) was showing me the ropes I just kept thinking, “I can’t believe they are going to pay me to do this!”

The job is part time and for the most part I can set my own hours and even work from home if needed. I already have a relationship with the Ambassador and his wife, who are wonderful people. I’m excited to use all that I have learned about Abuja and Nigeria and diplomacy in the past few years to represent our country help make everyone who enters the house feel welcome.

So, this is us, our year in a nut shell. I know what you’re thinking, “What’s next?” with the McClures that’s always the next question. We’re not sure, but we have some ideas. Let’s just say that Sean hit 20 years in the Army this spring so transition to a new career (on our terms) is a possibility. He loves this expat life and it is quickly growing on me.