Up and down

“O Christ, cause Your love to absolutely compel me. Help me to be convinced that because One died for all, therefore all died. Help me to realize and fully appreciate the fact that because You died for all, we who live should no longer live for ourselves but for You who died for us and was raised again. (2 Cor. 5:14-15) Please don’t let me miss the joy and fulfillment of living my life for You. Please don’t let my own stubbornness of heart stand in the way of fulfilling your plan for my life.”  Praying God’s Word

When I first learned to walk, I wanted to run,

When I began learning to play the piano, I wanted to be an immediate maestro

As you practice and age, the complexities of harmonies and dissonance and phrasing

Come together but also try your patience,

Especially when it’s a very new piece of which you’ve never played the ending

Or, a very familiar piece where you can’t quite seem to finish it with flourish

Still, each note should be a “polished pearl”

“I love you, Lord, and I lift my voice to worship you. Oh, my soul, rejoice. Take joy, my king, in what you hear—may it be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear.”

Up and down and up and down…

Realizing from my run yesterday, the climb gets longer and steeper and more beautiful.

Seeing Sophia begin to walk and dance—up and down, up and down

Hiking long days through the hills and to the plains—up and down, up and down

Traveling off the hill and coming “home”—up and down, up and down

Going to school, coming back to Swedish House—up and down, up and down

Waking up and lying down to sleep—up and down, up and down

Welcomed and foreign—up and down, up and down

Success and defeat—up and down, up and down

Energized and exhausted—up and down, up and down

Thrilled and perplexed—up and down, up and down

So close, but so far away—up and down, up and down

Learning to climb—Up and down. Down and up.

Following the Master Shepherd to the highest heights, wherever he may lead along the way.

What has transpired?

Parent week, lots of hype, variety show, energy, short week,

Long weekend—visit to Pathaks in Pune! (Samoa ’06)

Being stared at like a zoo animal like never before

Football and cricket in the street, King Burger

Teaching “full time,” always feeling like there could be more

Decimal division—found out the students don’t know how to round decimals, so back it up!

Maps, maps, and more maps; Number the Stars

Misunderstandings and learning continually in teaching

Growing closer to my students

Turned 22

Dinner, dessert, friends, touches of home,

Dosas with Mrs. Gandhi and Mr. Palraj—love that couple with his subtle jokes and her effervescence

Speaking on Justice, Grace, and Forgiveness in the hope of the gospel and extended to friends in religious assembly

Coaching super seniors basketball-tourney’s coming fast!

Relaxing Saturday hand-washing my laundry, basking in the sunshine, going the unplanned route on m y run as I so often do at home, running into familiar faces, probably scaring the tourists with my reddened face from exercise…

Hanging out, coffee and banana bread, letter writing, Miss Tibet,

Ohohoh, control, gotta let you go… expectations continually having to adjust

Skype with fam and friends—blesses my heart

Amazing conversations with friends and colleagues and inspirations here, too! Challenging questions, seeing God move . . .

Narnia with Jeru and family

Church, racquetball—sorry, Ola!, yum-yum in honor of Sarah

Reminded of real repentance

“If I search around long enough, I’ll find insecurity beneath my grandiosity and arrogant expectations beneath my self-contempt” (So Long, Insecurity)

Learning, but still “much afraid”

“One step at a time, one step at a time, I’m climbin’ a mountain with Jesus by my side!”

some thoughts from streams plus, address :)

Streams in the Desert
He saw the disciples straining at the oars (Mark 6:48)
The straining isn’t always what he’s asking you to do. But… it seems like that’s all I know how to do!? He’s the only one that can accomplish the call. Oh man. That’s how it gets done well. Fully abiding in Christ. “Not to overwork, but to overflow” is quite irresistible. “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” That’s the man that asked me to come into His rest. How counter-intuitive (as is the wisdom of heaven) to realize that the busiest soul is not the best servant, and when our heart is rippled, His reflection sometimes disappears. Rest can be service—when you can truly hear and see and be strengthened to do what he calls, even though you’re just a fragile pot, pouring out day by day. Once we are in the stillness, we sense his peace and know that there, he is everywhere, a rest for all who are weary, which is really all.
“In Resurrection stillness there is Resurrection power.”
Joshua 6:5 When you hear them sound a long blast on the trumpets, have all the people give a loud shout; then the wall of the city will collapse and the people will go up, every man straight in. See, I have delivered Jericho into your hands (Josh. 6:2) Heb. 11:30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the people had marched around them for seven days.
Victor’s thankful song
Blessed are all who wait on him! (Is. 30:18)
Reminder that the victor’s crown is not, actually, always glorious in how we picture it as a gladiator. Sometimes, well, most of the time, we have to wait, walking along in what seems ordinary dullness and sometimes wishing for glorious fields and new treks, rescuing lost souls from peril or fighting someone else’s dramatic battle. Yet, the Lord, the Master, reminds us that He calls us. Other times, you are called to take up your armor and stand firm; guarding your gate, whether the wolves come every day or not. When it gets uncomfortable, less than glamorous, you are soaked and bedraggled like a wet dog, or singing along with the songbirds of the morning because it seems altogether too easy. All you’re called for is to bloom where you’re planted; “choosing not to choose” my heart is still.
And Patience was willing to wait. (Pilgrim’s Progress)
And the lessons keep going, day by day :]

pst. snail mail address:

Linnea Ness Kodaikanal International School
P.O. Box 25, Kodaikanal 624 101
Tamil Nadu, India

Past the 1 month mark! *warning, longish post*

Crazy weekend, last weekend, through the straining of making it through the middle of the week. God is glorious, amen?

I don’t know where to begin or end. After teaching nearly all of the elementary schoolers the song we sang like goofballs in elementary school: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your path straight.” (with the hand motions, mind you), I need to preach it to myself! Sarah and I even asked that as we traipsed down the mountain at the end of a hard week, last week: that in God we would find our strength and our joy, and what an adventure it is! So much for me to overcome in learning every part of that verse. Oh the principles of proverbs.

Last week had many ups and downs with suddenly taking the class due to a family emergency for my cooperating teacher; other teachers and students also met challenges and had to leave school at short-notice, which is why I ended up singing and telling Bible stories and acting and leading games for religious education for a few days. I love talking about Jesus in school! Also, sharing sweet times of prayer is something I want to continue to cherish; it’s how we survive.
My class is talking about Freedom Fighters around the world. How fitting! The light shines through the darkness, which can’t even understand it!Teaching is quite the adventure in and of itself. Learning the ropes of working within an international school, being a semi-professional with awkward roles, working to submit and grow in confidence, along with just reaching out to the students in every way possible to grow them, too, make for a daily learning experience for me (life-long learners?). We’ve dealt with things in just my little classroom like silly-band distraction, silly songs with students, rambunctious kids, distraction and home-life issues, and every range of homework completion. One of my students decided her jingle would be “Freedom, glorious Freedom!” with eyes squeezed tight and voice singing proudly each time I mentioned freedom the first day. Monday and Tuesday, even as technology failed us, we had some thought-provoking discussion about the Dandi Salt March, the Boston Tea Party, and our own “pencil dilemma,” connecting to big ideas of oppression and freedom and legitimate solutions.

So, to fill you in on the craziness of the past weekend, it might be one of those, “you had to be there,” times, but your desire to “be there” might range from absolute repulsion to aching desire.

Sarah and I signed up to chaperone a “C” level (longer) hike down to the plains on Saturday. We left at 7am on the bus to our starting point, and from the get-go, Barbara Block (director of the hiking program and high-school coordinator) kind of forged a path through overgrown brush to connect us to the little trail which followed a fence through jungle-like woods. Beautiful.
We soon discovered that the lovely leaf-covered ground we were treading was leech-infested territory. More than you could ask or imagine. Like one of those horror films (ok, not really, but kind of), the leeches were not only near the streams, but all along the path because of the extreme dampness as of late—even more than usual for a place with monsoon season.
We’d come through tall grasses or out onto rocky areas and everyone would find a clearing to tend to their leeches, as in: scream for salt, beg one of us adults to pick off a leech, or proceed to smash it with a nearby rock. Really, it was at least 5 leeches per person, per stop. Sounds like I’m making a math problem for my students! Blood would pool in socks, through pants, on the rocks where we stopped—our large group became the walking wounded.
We carried on like this for about 5 hours due to the fact that our fearless guide got lost. As she would say, “We knew where we were, we just weren’t where we wanted to be.” You got that right, sister. As a friend of mine likes to say, “We aren’t lost, we’re just taking a different way.” Ok, well this new route included going up and down bison trails through intriguing forest and leech country and rock-hopping down the stream hoping to finally end up at the waterfall we all know and love (this hike was a different version of the rattail falls hike we did a couple of weekends ago). It donned on Sarah that she followed me to the point of swinging on a vine to get from one rock to another. I loved that part, but some did not enjoy it so much—thanks for those stream crossings on summer camping trips, Dad. Yes, we made it to the falls, coming through bursts of color from the lantana, and both Sarah and I enjoyed the most comfortable nap with our feet cooling in the water and our heads resting on the rock warmed from the sun—like Jacob, perhaps. Wrestling with God and resting in him.

The way down was not nearly so treacherous, even on the loose gravel portions. We made it down without so much trouble. Grungy and a little weary, we got ourselves on the bus for the ride to Bethania—an orphanage in Kanivavi to which some of our KIS colleagues are intimately connected. 9 of us stayed the night with this beautiful little community of “brothers and sisters.” Most were somewhat wary of me, until a couple of the little girls, who soon became my fast friends, got up the courage to tell me, “You’re so, uyaram, sister!” I’m long, or “height,” yes. We spent time talking, eating, and playing with the kids there. Real food, yum. My first idlies accompanied by delicious coconut curry for breakfast, and I ate right-handed the whole weekend! It was a sweet time of fellowship sharing back and forth in Tamil and English in their small chapel on Sunday. Gifts exchanged—silly bands for bangles, Bible, Tamil lessons. Hearts are quickly shared in small ways in places such as this. Frolicking up on the rocks and through the groves of guava trees precluded games and tours of the farm for the rest of the morning before lunch.

This week I am having more and more recurring moments of both déjà vieux and allowing myself to feel that strange belonging without belonging. Little things continue to make me smile. Sarah and I allowed ourselves to indulge in what we dubbed “yum-yum,” the mixture they’re always cooking which sends smells wafting by when we walk home past the lake. Teaching still has its ups and downs—my students, cooperating teacher, and I all let each other down and make mistakes every day, while at the same time growing to understand each other more and learn together. Even with friends and family, I am amazed by the constancy of God’s abounding grace as I reflected on Yahweh’s mishpat and tzadeqah.



This picture shows a bit of the personalities of our little friends Judah and Ezme Lambart.

We didn't know before we went that a couple of the girls Sarah and I spent a substantial amount

of time with at the orphanage are Judah's biological siblings!


:) Play Time Sorry, the tree got turned on it's side, you can still kind of see the plains

yes, and that's not even really gross.