Suthee Stories...

The Bird

2010-10-08T14:16:00.000-07:00

A couple months ago I was standing in the worship center preparing for chapel with my students when the most peculiar thing happened. A bird flew inside, frantically circled the room, and then landed on the branch of a silk decorative tree. It rested there for several minutes while I stood there screeching, “there’s a bird in the tree!” Now, if you know me, you know that birds are not my favorite so I was kinda freaking out. Eventually I had the sense to open the side door but the bird didn’t immediately fly out of the tree. It sat comfortably until I shook the silk branches and THEN flew out and quickly found a real tree with real branches to rest on.

I’ve thought about that morning a lot and (honestly) wondered if it was some sort of sign. I don’t know, but something about that bird in the silk tree resonated with me.

And then last week it hit me.

I am the bird.

I am the bird and my life, particularly the past year, has been a series of silk trees.

I’m gonna go out on a limb (pun intended) and say that most of our lives are full of silk trees. We have safe places that we land when we’re frantically searching for home. Maybe it’s a person, a location, or an activity, but we all have places we go when we need to be comforted and feel relief.

However good for us they may be at the time, silk trees are a temporary fix and will never be all that we need. I’m not denying the importance or validity of silk trees because if there’s one thing I’ve said A LOT in the past six months it’s that “you do what you have to do to survive”. What I AM saying is that we need to avoid getting so comfortable in a silk tree that we don’t notice when the door to the real thing is opened. We must have the discernment to recognize when we are released into freedom.

So here’s to the silk trees that keep us safe for a time, and to the One who liberates us to real life…

Why I'm Not a Missionary Anymore, part 3...

2010-06-30T10:51:00.000-07:00

But, it was still a crash…

And crashing sucks.

I knew I was where I needed to be, but like I said before, I hated it. I was still grieving the loss of Brandon. I was angry. I was heartbroken. I had lost so much in such a short amount of time. In just a few weeks I had experienced a tragic death, loss of job, and the end of a relationship. All of this spoke a booming “NO” into my being. The rejection and pain I felt with each of these “NOs” I internalized as a “NO” from God as well.

And this is about the time that my “survival mode” kicked in. I had internalized enough of the “NO” that I, subconsciously, did some rejecting of my own.

I stopped praying. I stopped writing. I stopped reading. I almost completely stopped listening to music. It would come in small bursts that I would say something to God, but honestly it felt like talking to empty space. I felt disconnected from God. From myself. And I desperately wanted to be disconnected from anyone who knew me well enough to challenge me to engage.

This lasted a few weeks.

It’s strange that you can know something in your head, but not accept it. Somewhere in me I knew that God wasn’t looking for reasons to exclude his creation (not even former missionaries who were spiraling all over the place). But I did not accept it. I had taught my students for years that God loves them no matter what. I had spoken into the lives of friends convinced that they were alone and unloved that God ‘s love was without limit and they were never alone. I was convinced of God’s eternal and unending love for his creation, ALL of his creation, all of them except me. Somehow there were conditions when it came to me. Certainly all of the “NO” in my life meant something, right?

Then one day I took a drive by myself to the North Shore. For the first time in a month or so, I listened to this song that had come to mean a lot to me while in Peru called, ‘I Love Your Presence’. A couple notes into the song and I was crying. And with the tears came the yelling, asking why all of this had happened. I cried and yelled and cried some more. I said I pissed about everything that had happened, how I had no clue what I was doing with my life, and would really like for him to give me a break.

And that’s when I heard the one word I needed to hear more than any other.

Yes,
this sucks.

Yes,
you are allowed to be angry.

Yes,
it’s scary.

Yes,
I’m right here.

Yes,
You are in my care.

Yes,
You are loved.

Yes.

God was speaking his love and affirmation to me in the middle of my North Shore meltdown. And here is what I’m learning as a result: sometimes we get so caught up in the “NO” that we cannot hear the eternal “YES” God speaks into our lives. I’m not saying that we don’t experience “NO”. I’m not saying it doesn’t suck. I’m not saying that the “NO”s don’t matter because God speaks “YES”.

What I AM saying is that in the midst of “NO” we can hold onto hope that “YES” is being spoken somewhere, even if only in small whisper in the middle of great torments.

From there we will grow and be changed...

To Be Continued (again, I know)...

Why I'm Not a Missionary Anymore...part 2

2010-06-29T11:53:00.000-07:00

In my mind, there was only one option of where to go when I left Peru. Although my parents were no longer there, Hawaii had become home and I was eager to be near the water. I was praying that those who had so lovingly sent me off on this adventure 8 months previous would be just as gracious upon my return.

Before making the trip to Hawaii, I stayed with my parents for a week in Texas. It was wonderful to have time with them and get through the worst of the reverse culture shock within the safety of two people who’ve seen me at my worst and are (like it or not) stuck with me for life. They spent every moment I was with them encouraging me that I would get through this and telling me that I would be okay, although at the time I did not really believe it.

Knowing that something is right and liking it are two very different things. I knew the right thing was to leave, but I didn’t like it. Correction: I HATED it.

That week with my parents, who’ve had their fair share of heartbreak in life and in ministry, was probably the most important time of my relationship with them (if you can even qualify something like that). My gratitude goes beyond words and I hope they know how much I love and (still) need them.

And, as if I could’ve ever doubted it, my return to Hawaii was full of ALOHA. My sister and everyone from my friends to church family to former students, their families, and my co-workers were nothing short of amazing. They asked me about Peru, but didn’t push, they let me talk when I needed to, cry when I needed to and have done nothing but pour out their love and support for me for the past 2 months. Which, has been another important lesson in grace: when you are wounded and spinning out of control, you need a soft place to crash. Yeah, that’s right, I said crash. Not land. Landing is a planned arrival, crashing is what happens when all your plans have gone to hell.

Between having two jobs immediately upon my return, a room back in my old apartment, and generous friends and sister who’ve driven me around and allowed me to borrow their cars…crashing has been as safe as a crash could ever be.

But, it was still a crash…

To Be Continued...

Why I'm Not a Missionary Anymore...

2010-06-28T18:04:00.000-07:00

I’ve struggled to write for a couple months now. In part because I wasn’t sure where to begin, but mostly due to the fact that I was afraid of what would happen if I let it all go. I am no longer afraid, so here’s what I’ve been thinking about…

2010 has been, by far, the strangest and most difficult year of my life. It began with my being a volunteer missionary, living in the Amazon Jungle in Peru, speaking Spanish, and building relationships with people I knew I would have for the rest of my life. It was a dream come true…and while the experience was extremely challenging, I knew it was also a tremendous blessing. There were days when I felt like I could live in Peru forever and days when I had no clue what I was doing there. I loved my Peruvian family, but there was a part of me that knew that my particular gifts and personal call weren't the best fit with the mission of the organization. I struggled with this a great deal, but figured that since God had provided the way for me to be there and given me great love for my team, I was going to stay the course.

March 3 changed everything. My cousin, one of my best friends, died of an accidental drug overdose and everything fell apart. I fell apart. I cannot think of another time when I felt that lost. I sincerely hope that you do not understand what I mean when I say this, but grief does violent things to you. I stopped sleeping, I could barely eat. I got out of bed only when I absolutely had to and cried more than I ever have in my life (and that is saying something). I was mourning the loss of someone I have loved for almost 27 years, but I was also grieving the pain he must have felt to have been that far into substance abuse and that none of us knew the depth of his suffering.

I wanted to go home that day because, honestly, I didn’t know what business I had in Peru “helping” anyone else if THIS is what happened to my own flesh and blood. However, I knew that I was in shock and could not make a sound decision quite yet. So I waited. I gave myself a month to let the shock wear off and see where I was then. A month came and went and while I was not convinced I was supposed to stay, I was also not convinced I was supposed to leave. So I waited some more. I was writing and reading and doing everything I knew to do to make it to another day but nothing was changing.

A couple more weeks passed and in a quick turn of events, I ended up in Arequipa for a few days. On a Monday morning I was sitting in a meeting with my boss and a consultant for the organization talking about how I was doing and how I truly felt about staying in Peru for another year and a half. As much as I hated to hear it, I felt this great sense of relief when they said they believed the best thing for me was to go home. I did not want to abandon my team, but I knew that I couldn’t go on the way I had been for the past weeks. As much as I wanted to love and support them, I knew that I was not going to be able to do that in the shape I was in. Despite my best effort to pray and read and serve and be in God’s presence, I was rapidly becoming a person I didn’t recognize because, like I said, grief does violent things to you.

Sometimes you do everything you can do and it’s not enough. This might be one of the most important lessons in grace I’ve ever learned. Because I did everything I knew to do, but it was gonna take more than just my will to get me through the darkness. It was gonna take time. And it was gonna take my being still and allowing God to speak healing into my life…

To Be Continued...

Back in the US of A

2010-04-17T14:27:00.000-07:00

They say you go through "reverse culture shock" upon returning to your home country after a significant amount of time away. Apparently 8 months in Peru was a sufficient amount of time for airports to induce this state of panic and distress.

Let me tell you, it's awesome.

Had a near melt down in the bathroom trying to figure out what to do with the toilet paper. Seriously. I sat there for a while before finally accepting the fact I could flush it.

Witnessed a man crouch down and yell in the face of his 3 year old who was crying in his stroller. Haven't seen anything like that in a long time. What is wrong with people?!

I've answered nearly every question asked of me in spanish. I got excited when the man at customs decided to go with it and switch to spanish.

Overwhelming sense of fear that I'm going to gain back the 25 lbs I lost in Peru in the next week. lol. Not kidding.

Profound sense of sadness that I am not with the people I've lived every day with for the past 8 months.

Looming sense of failure that I did not complete the job I was sent to do.

Waves of sheer panic that a week ago I had the next 19 months of my life planned and now have NO CLUE.

And somewhere...buried deep...is a voice that tells me everythings gonna be alright...I hope.

Hope that is seen is no hope at all, afterall? Yeah?

Aloha Still Means Te Amo,
Suthee

A New Chapter...

2010-04-14T13:45:00.000-07:00

The past few months have been very difficult for me and God has been growing and stretching me in ways I had not expected. Months ago I began to realize that it was possible that my personal gifts and call to ministry may not be the best fit with the Extreme Nazarene organization. I prayed and waited and continued on in my work, but felt more and more distance from what I feel called to do in this life. Then 6 weeks ago my cousin, Brandon, died of an accidental overdose and I pretty much fell apart. Through my grief, I cried out to God to help me get through and by His grace alone I've made it this far. But, it has been confirmed to me through conversations with my family and with my leadership here, that the best option for all involved, is that I discontinue my work with Extreme. My heart is very heavy, for I truly love my team, and truly wanted to complete my job here. I believe in Extreme, I believe in their vision, I believe that I have learned a lot and received great blessings in the time I've been a part of this organization. However, I feel a peace that while God brought me here almost 8 months ago, in this moment, He is leading me elsewhere.

Thank you so much for supporting me over these months, I appreciate you all so much. I sincerely ask forgiveness if you are disappointed in me, it is this thought that has grieved me more than anything. I love you all. Please write if you have any questions. (I believe you can cancel your financial support online, but if not, please let me know and I will find out how to do that.)

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Melissa "Suthee" Sutherland

Jesus Wept

2010-03-28T12:34:00.000-07:00

Jesus wept.

John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the Bible and is often memorized jokingly amongst Sunday school children to win a prize. Admittedly, I was probably one of those children. And yet, how this verse has come to mean so much to me in the past couple weeks…

Lazarus, a dear friend of Jesus, had died and his family was mourning. Although Jesus knew he had the power to give Lazarus life, he wept for his friend. He wept with his friends. He was deeply troubled and moved by their grief. Wow.

Over the past 3 weeks I have been surrounded by great love and compassion for which I must give thanks. Unfortunately, I have also been told some very unhelpful things, like I should not cry anymore, or that I should be okay by now. The truth is I am not okay. I feel pain like a gaping hole in my being. I have a deep sense of loss. I have endless unanswerable questions.

I know that to see someone like me, who is by nature rather hilarious, with puffy
red eyes more days than not, is difficult. I wish I could be what they want me to be. However, along with my sense of humor, the other gift I’ve been given is my inability to hide my emotions. And right now, because I cannot hide, the only thing I have to offer anyone is my vulnerability and brokenness.

Vulnerability and brokenness are not “good” words. They are sad and scary words. Yet, Jesus too, offered the world his vulnerability and brokenness. He was “a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering,” (Isaiah 53:3). Thankfully, though I do not quite understand what this means yet, it also says “by his wounds we are healed,” (Isaiah 53:5).

It is absurd to me that I have been told not to grieve. I mean, if Jesus (who was about to raise Lazarus from the dead) can weep for his friend, why can’t I? Maybe it’s bad business? Maybe I’m not selling this Jesus saves stuff well enough if I don’t have a smile plastered on my face at all times?

Hmm.

But then I remember that the Gospel is not for sale. So it’s not my job to sell it. There are moments (like right now) when I become so angry that I don’t think I can take it anymore. And then I think about Jesus. I think about the words that caused me to believe in him. He was the most loving man who ever lived. Certainly that is why he wept. He was so filled with love. And if we claim to be his body, we also should be so filled with love. But love means you are open to being hurt. Love means you are vulnerable to grief.

I am grieving. My family is grieving. And the Jesus I know is moved by our grief, and is weeping with us.

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Melissa "Suthee"

March 3, 2010

2010-03-14T12:28:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday March 3, Dalila and I went to Belen to visit two families we’ve been working with for the past couple months. The pastor who was in town teaching our class and another guy from our group also came along because we were going to meet the husband of one of the women for the first time. We knew that the husband was abusive when drunk which, quite frankly, is every weekend. Upon entering the house, I felt an immediate sense of inhospitality on the part of the husband. He told us very roughly that he had to leave for work shortly and basically asked why we were there. Knowing that his frustration with our presence could easily turn into consequences for his wife later, I began to pray. I prayed, “we need your presence, we need you, do something.” The pastor began to speak, telling a story, and I continued to pray. The wife sat quietly, her mother-in-law and another neighbor began crying and I watched the husband’s entire countenance change before my eyes. He softened and relaxed. By the time the pastor finished his story, I was pouring glasses of orange Fanta for everyone, the husband was thanking us for visiting, asking when we would come back, suggesting we come on the weekend when he doesn’t have to go to work. Amazing.

Afterwards, we visited another family, then walked to the Plaza de Armas so the pastor could see a bit of Iquitos. I never take my cell phone to Belen because thievery is a rather popular sport, so when I returned I was surprised to see a missed call from the Simpsons, our cluster support family. I walked up to their house, and Heather met me on the stairs and took me by the arm telling me they had received a call from Brian Tibbs, who had received a call from Brent Deakins, who had received a call from my dad asking me to call him. I immediately felt sick.

This was not good.

I called my dad and said, “What?...What happened?” And then I heard words that, even now as I replay them in my head, are unbelievable. “Brandon’s dead.” My cousin, whom I love like a brother, was gone. I asked if he was sure. He told me he wished he wasn’t, but yes, he was sure. I’m sure I asked what happened, but I do not remember. I cried like I have never cried and kept saying, “this is not okay, this is not okay, this is not okay”. Heather sat with me as I cried on the phone with my family. When we walked to my room, I collapsed on the bed in the entry way and sobbed. Heather told the girls what had happened, and soon I was surrounded by Emperatriz, Juliana and Dalila who told me to cry, yell, talk, do whatever I needed to do. I don’t know how long I stayed on that bed, but they stayed with me. Over the next hours, all of the girls had returned and took turns sitting with me, talking with me, crying with me, praying with me. Laura and Brittany sat with me all day Thursday and took care of me.

I must say thank you to these wonderful women: Kristy and Nancy, Katie and Emperatriz, Brittany and Esther, Laura and Juliana, Katie and Priscilla, Dalila and Heather. They are my safe place.

Finding a safe place is sometimes an impossible task. After two days of lying in my bed crying, I was told by some people here (not any of the above mentioned) that I needed to stop crying and be okay. No, I’m not kidding. God forbid I really feel this. God forbid I grieve and mourn and wail. God forbid I’m not funny for a few days because I am hurting worse than I have ever hurt in my life. God forbid. I won’t pretend to hide my anger on this subject. Let’s just call it a second round of culture shock.

I really don’t understand the thought process here. I really don’t understand how it’s better to wear a happy face in front of other people and then cry yourself to sleep at night because you won’t admit what you’re struggling with. You know me, I’m all about getting things out into the open. I wear my heart on my sleeve. It’s never a mystery how I am feeling. Everyone knows. And while I’m sure at times it is exhausting for those around me, at least I’m honest.

I realize, of course, how incredibly selfish this all sounds. But really, I don’t feel like I have anything to give. I’m trying. But I am so confused. I’ve never felt anything so intense. I feel like the rug has been ripped from beneath me. Even as I write this, the giant lump in the back of my throat is antagonizing me, reminding me that the pain is just as real today as it was 10 days ago. I’m praying. I’m praying like I’ve never prayed before. My prayers go something like this, “help me. I can’t do this. I need you.” Sometimes I believe that God is listening. Sometimes I feel like I’m just talking to myself, giving myself a pep talk. And sometimes I believe that God is listening and everything will be okay. Sometimes.

And this is why I love the Psalms. David was real. He was not all about sunshine and daisies. He yelled and cried and danced naked. He accused God several times of abandoning him. And yet, he was a man after God’s heart. Maybe we should understand that phrase differently? Not that David was a man who was really godly…but he was a man who was desperately seeking to know and sense God in his life. Godliness is not something I relate to. Desperation to know that we’re not just floating all alone out here IS something I relate to.

In Psalm 13, David spends 4 verses accusing and pleading with God to understand why he’s been left all alone and then he says, “BUT I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me.” Everything is far from okay. BUT, I will make this leap of faith and say that I know God is good. I do not understand any of this. I cannot make sense of it. BUT, I want to believe that at some point, I will sense peace.

Maybe this is not the blog of a good little missionary. Maybe I should talk about how my Brandon’s death has made me more thankful that I am here. But it hasn’t. It HAS made me more aware of the desperation we all feel to know and be known, to love and be loved. And THAT is the only reason I would give as to why I’m still here in Peru…because that desperation is something we all know, if we are honest.

Is It February Already!?!

2010-02-16T12:45:00.000-08:00

Hello from the beautiful and humid Amazon Jungle!

The past month has been filled with much work and many lessons. In mid January we were blessed to be involved with a medical and impact mission project here in the city of Iquitos. Together, with the long term staff and an amazing group of short term volunteers from the U.S., we hosted 7 medical clinics in 7 different areas of Iquitos and saw over 1200 patients. While the nurses and doctors were caring for patients, the 40/40s were translating, talking and praying with families, and providing hours of games and activities for children. What an amazing way to share the love of God! It was a beautiful thing to see how each person used their gifts to bless the communities. In addition to the medical clinics and activities for children, we also hosted 4 showings of the Jesus Film, which was a really wonderful way to further express our purpose in being here. Each day was different, with its own set of challenges, but each day our teamwork improved and people were loved in the name of Jesus. By the end of the project we were all exhausted and yet with reawakened passion for our call to the jungle of Peru.

Since the project we have returned to classes and the work in our churches. Dalila (my Peruvian partner) and I are currently working in Belen, a particularly impoverished area of Iquitos, where we will plant our first church. We have begun relationships with 4 different families, visit them on a regular basis, and are beginning to disciple them this week. I first visited Belen my second or third day in Iquitos, and from that moment have had a deep compassion for the people there. The opportunity to be a light in such a dark place is both exciting and humbling. Please pray for us as we continue to form relationships with people in desperate need of hope, that the people would know the great love God has for them and Christ would truly transform their lives.

Thank you so much for all your love and support, I am very blessed to share this journey with you!

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

All New Episodes...

2010-01-09T16:50:00.000-08:00

I’m late in saying it, but Happy New Year! I hope your holiday season was filled with much laughter and quality time with loved ones. We celebrated Christmas with a mixture of Peruvian and North American traditions. On Christmas Eve, we attended church and then went to the Simpson’s (our support family) house for games, a gift exchange, and of course—food! In keeping with Peruvian tradition, at midnight we celebrated by greeting one another with hugs, set off some fireworks, and drank hot chocolate. Yes, that’s right- we drank hot chocolate in 90 degree weather! After our celebration at the Simpson’s we went to the Plaza de Armas in Iquitos and walked around taking photos and observing the mass of people celebrating the holidays. On Christmas day we had a semi-traditional North American lunch complete with stuffing, mashed potatoes, and pumpkin pie. It was a very special time together, though we all missed our families and friends back home. New Years we celebrated again at the Simpson’s with a time of worship and prayer and yes, more fireworks!

Honestly, I’ve hesitated writing lately, because I have been dealing with some major culture shock. My love affair with Peru stopped somewhere in the second week here in Iquitos. Don’t get me wrong, Iquitos is beautiful and the idea that I live in the Amazon Jungle is something I’ll always treasure. But, there are days when all I want to do is go home, days when I question why I’m here at all, days when I just want to eat some spicy ahi poke and hang out with my friends at the beach.

Last week was particularly difficult and I spent a lot of time crying and praying that I would know what to do to get through it. It was in those dark moments that 1, I was reminded of what wonderful friends and family I have in the states and 2, I realized what amazing friends I have made here on my team. There is no doubt in my mind that I am blessed beyond what any one person deserves AND that life looks a lot different when we choose to be grateful. Thank you, my loved ones, for all the prayer and encouragement. I could not do this without you. Really.

Inolvidable (Unforgettable)

2009-12-06T13:06:00.000-08:00

Thursday we traveled by boat up the Amazon River to a village called Padre Cocha. We spent the morning going door to door to invite people to a program in the center of the village that afternoon. When we returned to the church we ate lunch, which consisted of a whole fish (head and all!) in a cold soup.

After lunch we explored the village some more and then rested in the church. I was laying on the floor of the church and was awakened by two little girls talking to me and killing all the ants that were crawling around me. I sat up and talked with them, and pretty soon there were 5 little girls ages 7-11 telling me about their families and asking me about mine. One little girl informed me that I was older than her mom (that’s always nice to hear haha!). In those moments talking with them, I was reminded yet again why I made the decision to move to Peru for two years.

At 4pm, we all walked to the center of the village and played with children who came to the program. I counted 75 children playing elbow tag and simon says and by the time we sat down for the drama, the amount of children had doubled. After the drama, my friend Gary shared some of his testimony (in español) and presented the Gospel. Hard to believe 3 months ago we didn’t know how to tell people where we were from much less tell the greatest story in history!

At the close of the program, we had small gifts of pencils, soap, and toothpaste for the kids and there were at least 200 children following our group through the village back to the church. It was amazing.

We returned home exhausted and soaking wet from the rain, but content in the knowledge we had learned much in the day...

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee

Moment of Clarity

2009-11-25T13:28:00.000-08:00

Sometimes in life we are given moments of clarity. Moments when every question we have is silenced by an overwhelming peace that even though everything is NOT OKAY, we know exactly why we are breathing. Yesterday I walked through Belen, an extremely poverty stricken area of Iquitos, and felt awake for the first time since I was standing in Kibera, Nairobi.

Those moments in Belen were confirmations not only of my purpose in Iquitos, but also my purpose on the planet. Right now I am breathing the air of my home for the next 2 years and while this is at times a difficult thought, I could not be more sure that I am exactly where I should be.

I urge you, if you do not know, to find whatever it is that makes you step back and see that life is so much bigger than whatever stress you may have right now. I beg you, to find a way to participate in the liberation of those around you. I plead with you, to find someone who needs to be loved and love them. Because nothing else really matters…to have this gift and not gift it would be the greatest waste…

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee 

"Life is Like a Box of Chocolates...

2009-11-21T12:46:00.000-08:00

you never know what you're gonna get." -Forest Gump

Those words may not be profound, but they are certainly true- life is full of surprises! 3 months ago when I was leaving Hawaii, I felt a deep sadness for the people I was leaving behind. I was scared and nervous and didn't know how it would all work out. Honestly, I didn't think I would form friendships with people like the ones I had in Hawaii, but nevertheless set out on this journey because I believed it was the next steps I had to take.

In California, when I found out who my roommate would be for the next 3 months, more nervousness set in. Brittany is 19, from Kansas, and from her Facebook profile seemed very conservative and well...I'm me ;) Much to both our surprise, we became very close and learned that we had more in common than either of us thought possible. Together we shared many laughs and tears and also a great love for our Peruvian family in Arequipa. She has been one of the greatest surprises and blessings of my life and I'm so thankful that it's not safe to judge books by their covers...

On Thursday afternoon, I was filled with the same apprehension before leaving Arequipa for Lima. I felt the way I did the day I left Hawaii. It's strange to think that after only 3 months, my friends and family in Arequipa became so important that I would be filled with the same sadness. Sometimes I wonder if maybe it would be better to not become that involved with people, I mean, it would certainly make leaving places much easier. But when I think about the experience of the last 3 months, there is no way I would trade my relationships with Alyssa & Leanne (my girls from Canada who are still in Arequipa) or my relationship with my Peruvian family. How much they have added to my life in such a short time-- Wow! I am so blessed. The sadness of missing them is worth it...

Although I do not understand it, I can say with confidence that God's love for us is neverending and full of amazing surprises. My time in Arequipa was proof of that and for that reason I know Iquitos will be even more amazing!!!

Pray for us as we begin classes on Monday and bond with our Peruvian counterparts...the adventure has just begun!

Aloha means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

My First Peruvian Birthday :)

2009-10-24T09:50:00.000-07:00

First, I apologize that it's been so long since my last blog! The last time I wrote was the day before my birthday so I'll start there...

We celebrated my birthday for almost a week. There were dinners with special friends, cake with our 40/40 group, cake with the office staff, many gifts of earrings (my favorite) and a shared fried chicken dinner with my friend Laura whose birthday was 2 days after mine. All these celebrations were filled with blessings of laughter but the most special time in that week was at my house with my Peruvian family, the Conchas.

The Conchas have been beyond wonderful to us and my birthday with them was very special. We had an amazing dinner, delicious cake (which, in keeping with tradition, my face got smashed into!), I sang/played my guitar for them and the brothers sang/played for me. But, the most special moment of the night came when Antono (the dad) had me choose a card from this box of Bible verses and prayers and then read it to me (in spanish, of course!). Before he finished reading, I was in tears because the day before I had told Mary (the mom) about how I loved the stories of St. Francis of Assisi and the prayer on the card was the prayer of St. Francis:

"Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen."

This prayer has been a constant encouragement and challenge in my life and I believe receiving it as my birthday blessing was a reminder of the way I believe I should live. I wasn't sure how I'd feel on my birthday-- being so far away from my dearest loved ones-- but God was gracious and showed me yet again how He is always expanding my circle :)

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Melissa aka Suthee :)

2009-10-05T09:12:00.001-07:00

This past week, I plunged in to the culture and city of Arequipa…

Last Sunday night my roommate and I were riding in a taxi and got rear-ended by another taxi. The impact was strong, and we were both dealing with head/neck/back aches, but it could have been far worse. We are very thankful for this!

Due to a shortage of teachers, my classes were changed to the afternoon for 2 weeks. Honestly, it was really frustrating because I learn best in the morning, but I decided to make the most of it and take the mornings to explore the city and study.

This is how I spent the past week:

Monday morning I went to the post office to pick up a package and as I had been warned, it took an unbelievable amount of time. I arrived at 8:20am and there were 3 people in line ahead of me. The international package window opened at 8:30am and the first person got their package at 9:15am. At 10am, I was called in, filled out forms, opened the package for them to see what I received (thanks for the peanut butter, Mom!), and by 10:20 I was done. Thankfully they had time to get my friend Leanne her package also before they closed at 10:30am. Yes. That’s right. They are only open for 2 hours in the morning and 2 hours in the afternoon. Remember that the next time you're standing in line in the post office in the U.S. :)

Tuesday, as I was taking my laundry to be cleaned, I saw the owner of our school and got to practice my Spanish with her. I continued on my way downtown when an old man started talking to me and told me about all the places I needed to see while I was in Peru. He gave me his card and his wife’s name and told me to call them if I needed anything. I finally reached the laundry place and spent the rest of the morning studying in a coffee shop where they now know me like my friends at the Kam Starbucks.

On the way to pick up my clothes on Wednesday morning I walked through 3 different protests. One was in front of the Justice building, one was in for teachers and took place in the Plaza de Armas and the final one was on San Francisco, a street adjacent to the Plaza. As I was walking up San Francisco, I noticed there were a lot of people in the street. I assumed it was another protest, but what I couldn’t see was the line of 50 police officers with their shields on one side of the street! As I got closer, I didn’t know whether to turn around and go another way, or continue up the street but just then I saw an old woman trying to sell ice creams to the police officers, so I figured it wasn’t too dangerous. UNFORTUNATELY, that was the one day I left the house without my camera!

Thursday morning I awoke at 4:30am, showered, and left the house at 5:15am with my sister, Tati, for a procession in the Plaza de Armas. In Peru, and other countries, Catholics celebrate October as the month of purple. It is a month of celebration and reflection on the miracles of Jesus. He is called, “El Señor de los Milagros”. In the procession there is an enormous painting of Jesus surrounded by vases of flowers that is carried from one cathedral to another and all the people sing and pray while walking. It took 40 men to carry the painting and flowers and every half block or so they had to change out the people carrying it and every time it was re-lifted, the people applauded. It was one of the most interesting and beautiful things I’ve ever witnessed and I’m so thankful for the experience.

On Friday, in the Plaza de Armas, I witnessed a demonstration for world peace done by hundreds of children and youth. Most of the youth were holding posters they had made, some girls were holding flags from countries around the world, and there was a band playing music. It seemed that everywhere I went that day in downtown there were children with orange posters for world peace. It made me really happy :)

In honor of my upcoming birthday, my weekend was filled with things that remind me of home. We ate sushi and miso soup on Friday night, crepes and coffee on Saturday morning, and had a LOST marathon Saturday afternoon. It was the first day since I’ve been here that I got to just hang out and not do anything. (We all need those days from time to time!)

Sunday we went to church and I was excited to learn that my Spanish comprehension increases more and more every week. I am very thankful for the progress I’ve made thus far and want to work really hard for the next two months in order to be ready to meet and connect with my Peruana partner and jump into the next stage of training.

Thank you all so much for your love and support. There is no way I could do this without you.

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee J

The Hardest Part...

2009-09-24T15:34:00.000-07:00

So much has happened since my last blog which I will get into later, but for now I'd like to share the hardest part of being in Peru...

Honestly, I thought I would perfectly content and free of culture shock until we got to Iquitos. Arequipa ia very modern and thus far there isn't much I can't find here (besides miso soup and orbitz gum). But today I called my dad on Skype to find out my Gram is in the hospital. She was on her way to the doctor (I believe) and some girl u-turned and hit the car she was in and now my Gram is in the ER with 2 broken ribs.

So today I am facing my worst fear- that something will happen to my family while I am so far away- and it sucks.

But, in every moment we have a choice, and in this one I am choosing to believe that she will be okay. I am choosing to put my faith and trust in the One who called me here...especially when things happen that are out of my control. I am choosing to be thankful I am here, even though I desperately wish I was close to my family.

What will YOU choose?

Aloha means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

Present Tense

2009-09-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

In my first 2 weeks of Spanish class I could only speak in the present tense. There were times when I was frustrated that I couldn’t explain something because I couldn’t speak of the past or future. At first, I viewed this as a limit but the funny thing about limits is that, more often than not, they lead a different kind of freedom. In my limited knowledge, I became free to really explore the present moment. I’m not saying the past and future aren’t important, of course they are! The past has contributed to who we are and the future will grow from the choices we make in the present. However, when you can only speak of this moment you begin to realize how much you talk about that is out of your hands. It’s sad to me when I think of how much time and energy I’ve expended over things I could not change or control (and so as not to repeat those mistakes, I won’t continue on that subject anymore!).

I’m so thankful for the past 2 weeks of not being able to speak about anything but the present. I’m so thankful to be fully present in this moment, that I can appreciate all I’d normally take for granted.

Learning Spanish is teaching me more about myself and life than I would’ve thought possible. And that is always a good place to be. I challenge you to find ways to be fully present in this moment.

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

Day by Day...

2009-09-09T20:19:00.000-07:00

Today I spoke with some of my 4th grade students from Hawaii on Skype and cried because I miss them terribly. This did not surprise me, but what DID surprise me was that the peace in my heart did not waver. I remain confident that THIS place is the place for THIS moment. It is a strange thing to completely love the people of another place and yet know that the right place, for the moment, is so far from them. I am again filled with overwhelming gratitude for my ohana that is matched only by the quiet confidence that I am exactly where I should be...

And I believe this moment is blessed.

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

Esperar

2009-09-04T16:34:00.000-07:00

In spanish class this week I learned that the word "esperar" means to hope, to wait, to expect. In practicing my vocabulary, every time I came to "esperar" my thoughts turned to this verse, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see". I love the spanish language- even more so when I learned about the different meanings for esperar.

Waiting for something we haven't seen is an act of HOPE. Sometimes it is easy to forget that. Sometimes we think that waiting is futile because we do not have hope. But when we wait with expectation-- how incredible it is to see our hope fulfilled!

"Espero al Senor, lo espero con toda el alma; en su palabra he puesto mi esperanza." Salmos 130:5 (Psalm 130:5)

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

Leer Means to Read

2009-09-03T13:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my spanish speaking German sister, Francesca, took Brittany (my roommate) and I to some of her favorite places near La Plaza de Armas. Our last stop was a "fake" bookstore where you can get almost any classic book in espanol very cheap. I just started 'The Magician's Nephew' by CS Lewis (thanks to Eick) so when I saw 'El Sobrino del Mago' I decided to attempt it in espanol also.

HA! Yeah... I'm on page 3. And please don't ask how long it took me to get there :)

Despite the difficulty, I am very excited to be learning spanish for real. It's nice to finally know how to form sentences! My hope is that I will learn a lot these 3 months in order to be a better partner to my Peruana counterpart. And that this effort will translate into a genuine love for the people of Peru.

Ojala (I hope)!

Aloha Means Te Amo,
Suthee :)

Bend Not Break

2009-09-02T15:05:00.000-07:00

As hard as it may be for you to believe, I haven't listened to my iPod since I left for Peru. I've thought it was strange, but wasn't sure why I hadn't.

Then today I turned it on and listened to Hide & Seek by Imogen Heap (I realize a lot of you have no idea who that is, sorry). I wasn't sad, wasn't homesick, but when I heard that song I remembered the last time I listened to it and started to cry. Strange, no? The memory I have in connection to that song is a great one: riding in the back of my friend Cati's truck, taking in the beauty of the ocean & mountains of Hawaii.

It's strange when you begin to realize that your life is no longer your life. Strange when you realize this new place is your now your place. These new people are now your people. The Israelites struggled with this one for decades. Hopefully I can learn from them, so, I'm determined to welcome this new life with open arms, and not rebel against the unfamiliarity. Determined to take in each day and find the beauty that awaits. Even when it looks much different than that of the old familiar places.

Change is always difficult. But I'm learning to bend through the change and allow it to mold me, not break me.

Aloha Means I Love You,
Suthee :)

First Impressions

2009-08-31T18:18:00.000-07:00

1. Michael Jackson as background music for our first breakfast with our host family. He really was universal.

2. "Crazy driving" is relative. Sure no one stays in their lane & most streets have no stopsigns/stoplights but Kenya driving still wins the prize for scariest rides of my life.

3. Movies are 12 soles (4 dollars)...jealous?

4. Nuns in beautiful blue habits. As soon as no one is looking, I'm taking pictures :)

5. Though Peruan coffee has been rated as some of the best in the world, locals still drink instant at home. Hmmmm...

6. So far, I love Peru, but I do miss you :)

READY OR NOT!!!

2009-08-30T12:59:00.000-07:00

In training we played a game where we chose a side of the room depending on our preference. One question was ¨ready¨ or ¨ready or not!¨ And I realized that I am totally a ¨ready or not¨ kind of girl. As much as we can plan and think we know how to handle situations, life is pretty unpredictable and there is no such thing as being ¨ready. Ask anyone who plans to have a baby, has one, then discovers there is nothing that can really prepare you for the ups and downs of parenthood.

When I was preparing for my journey to Peru, I thought and tried to plan, yet two days before I was to leave, had a total meltdown and didn´t know if I could do it. But, being the ¨ready or not¨ girl that I am, I lept, and can I just say how glad I am that I did?

There will be bad days, there will be days I will wish I was at home in Hawaii, but today I am filled with an overwhelming peace that I am exactly where I should be, ready or not.

Aloha Means I Love You,
Melissa

The Climb

2009-08-27T23:26:00.000-07:00

If you know me at all, you know I openly mock all High School Musical, Jonas Brothers, Hannah Montana business. Don't have anything against those kids but unlike some people I know, it's just not my cup of tea ;)

Then, a couple months ago, I heard this song on the radio and it grabbed my attention. It talked about overcoming obstacles and that life isn't about how we get through things, but about the journey...good stuff, right? To my surprise I learned it was a Miley Cyrus song & I didn't want to admit I liked it. One day I was brave enough to tell my friend Eick that I actually liked that song...Since then, 'The Climb' by Miley Cyrus has been added to my guilty pleasure list.

Fast forward to 'Concert for Suthee' where some of my dearest friends got together and blessed us all with their musical talent in order to raise money for my move to Peru. One of the performers was the beautiful Tali Silva, a former student, who said some very kind words about me then proceeded to belt 'The Climb' better than Miley herself. It was powerful & I get teary eyed just thinking about it...

Which brings me to today. My last day in L.A. The busy-ness of the past 6 weeks has not given me much time to think about the enormity of this move. I was walking around, questioning whether or not I should do this, whether or not this was the right thing, feeling very alone and very confused, and I prayed for a sign. Whether or not God controls the radio, when 'The Climb' started playing on the radio, I took that as my sign...

"It's not about how fast I get there, it's not about what's waiting on the other side, It's the climb"

I have no idea what awaits, and I'm sure there will be days I want to quit, but I am gonna do my best to remember that this is much bigger than me, and it's about journey. I hope you will as well.

Aloha Means I Love You,
Suthee (Mel, Melissa, MJ, Sissy etc...)

Aloha Oe...

2009-08-22T19:44:00.000-07:00

It's my last night in Hawaii. Wow. I can't even believe it! I don't really have time to write this blog, but wanted to make sure it was up and running before I leave tomorrow. So here's my only thought for today...

I'm going to miss the bamboo :)

You may have heard me talk in detail about my love for this amazing grass (that's right, it's not a tree, it's grass). In moments of quiet through the last weeks I've thought often about bamboo. How it struggles so hard beneath the surface for years before it breaks through the ground and shoots up in a matter of days. This thought remains: it must have the ability to grow so fast because of the strength it acquired in the struggle beneath the ground.

May this be true of all of us as well...

Aloha means I love you,
Melissa