There is nothing quite like the experience of being woken up in panic.
It was 1:39am, and I
woke immediately to the sound of, "Bec, we need to get to the
basement, right now."
As my eyes flew open,
the siren in my dream matched its reality; the city-wide wailing of a tornado
siren.
I've been living with a
lovely lady named Linda for these past three weeks, and as I pulled the
retainers from my mouth and grabbed a sweat shirt (yes I still wear a retainer
at night, and yes I just said "sweat shirt"), I was filled with what
could only be described as real, and genuine fear.
We moved chairs into the
bathroom of the basement, and we sat. Going back and forth from the TV, to
watch the live updates as the storm - threatening tornado formation - we
waited. We watched as the storm approached, and different parts of the city
were put on, and off watch.
When the potential
tornado was down-graded to just a severe storm, about an hour and half later,
we climbed back into bed; with the sounds of roaring winds, heavy rain and deep
thunder lulling us back into early morning sleep.
It didn't eventuate into
anything, but it could have. And I don't understand.
Two of my new best
buddies drove down to Moore Oklahoma yesterday to help out with the debree,
these are some of their photos from today. Again, in Omaha, it didn't eventuate into anything,
but it could have.
Tornadoes have never been a part of my
potential reality before. They have never been a part of my world. In Sydney,
the worst I really have to worry about is drought, or bush fire, neither of
which is going to come without warning, and neither of which will probably ever
kill me.
I feel... kind of out of
place, in this place.
Everything is new.
Working at Outback
Steakhouse with an accent (which, for any Aussies is a hilarious
"Australian themed" restaurant chain here in the USA) means
that I get to 'tell my story' at least a couple of times a week.
People have any number
of reactions; some are a barrage of questions, most people ignore it, some are
sweet and kind, some are mean and frustrated, and some I fall in love with.
I
served two ladies last week, who were very old, and very adorable. Another old
man, when I told him I was from 'Australia' somehow heard 'Chilli' and our
conversation went astray from there.
Do you ever hear truly
stupid things come out of your mouth? This is my most recent example:
Him (being a 25ish male
who is sitting in a booth with his girlfriend): "Can I get a miller
light?"
Me: "Sure! Would
you like a 16 or a 22 ounce?"
Him: "22
please"
Me: "That's my
man!"
...
..
.
'That's my man?'
^ I don't know who was
more shocked, him, me, or his girlfriend. Either way, it was incredibly
uncomfortable and completely inappropriate. I covered it terribly with a
nervous laugh and a 'I'll just get that right away'...
Anyway, last night, I
had a beautiful set of four. All old (so it seems I have a thing for old
people...), all hilarious. They asked me all sorts of wonderful questions and
encouraged me in my relationship. Afterwards, one of the men came up to me and
gave me a great big side hug. The kind that only genuine, old men can give.
"You were
delightful!" he said, "but let me give you a tip. When you give
change, give it in smaller bills, that way people will leave you more".
And with that, he gave me a wink and a nod and let me tell you; that kind of
kindess and I almost cried.
Truth be told, I'm
starting to miss home.
And not so much home, as
routine. And things which are familiar. And a consistent income, and people who
know me well.
But that's part of the
adventure right?
It's not about being
there, or being here. It's not about being anywhere, really. Change is the sign
of life's existence, with life comes change - that's part of the package deal.
God, on the other hand
is the same yesterday, today and forever. Jesus is my constant, in this world
of chaos.
And so in that way, I
have peace, when everything is new, and hope; in a fear-filled
tornado-producing mid-Western state.
God is doing so much
here.
Four or five years ago,
I met my man in Townsville Australia. I moved across the world to
pursue that kind of world-defying love.
Last Sunday, I heard him
preach in person for the very first time.
It, and he, was awesome.
I tell you, for a
Jesus-loving heart, there is nothing more attractive then a man at the pulpit;
with the open word in hand.
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| I can't tell you how great it feels to sign cards like this. |
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| wedding gift! |
To celebrate, I'm
getting kind of crafty for the first time in my life.
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| one for my room. |
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| & one for his. |
Four or five years ago,
I met a different man in Townsville Australia. He's from my favourite
US state to say; Wisconsin. We spent many an afternoon playing canasta, and
even ventured out to Papua New Guinea together. His name is Jacob, and he is
great.
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| us in 2009. |
This weekend he drove
the eight hours it took to come and visit me, we hung out, played canasta, went
to church and threw a frisbee.
It's great to have
friends all over the world and once again I re-learnt the lesson of true
friendship, that really truly feels natural and picks up where it left off.
Oh boy. Where else to
start.
How about with a car
accident?
The 365 got a little
beat up this week. Somebody backed straight into her, and up until this
morning I couldn't open my drivers side door. And so, being the comic relief
for the entire of Omaha, I have spent the last 7 days crawling across my car in
my work pants, dresses, and summer-inspired skirts.
She's back in working
order now though, which is wonderful. What's an extra dent in a car that truly
fabulous?
I heard in a sermon last
week that said "God rarely uses something for great purposes, which has not
first been put through great trial". The 365 lives testament to that.
And I guess that just
paves way to my new reality here, that is - living as an adult.
For the first time in my
entire life, I'm actually deemed responsible. I work not just to save, but to
pay real and actual bills.
If I don't buy
something, it's not going to be in the pantry.
If I use up an entire
tank of petrol in three days, I'm the one who has to pay for it.
If I use a dish, I have
to clean it.
If my car gets dented
up, I have to take it to the mechanic.
Like everything else,
this is all new to me. New country, culture, city, job, food, routine, people
and independent far away from home reality.
Speaking of which
yesterday I finally, FINALLY moved into my apartment. Sort of.
And by sort of, I mean
I'm in the apartment, just not in my room. That will happen in a few days, and
until then, I'm parading around by myself (not going to lie - sometimes almost
naked, just because I can), with two inherited cats, and a fridge full of almond
milk and pudding.
In other news, I ate 7
bagels and an entire tub of cream cheese in 24 hours. It's a serious problem
and with bagels? I have zero self control.
But yes! My apartment.
Want to see?
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| living room. |
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| a simaid calander. of course. |
I will be without a bed for a couple of days, but who needs a bed right? Who needs a bed when I have my
own space. And netflix. Life is good.
God is also good.
SO good. SO good
sometimes I just can't simply handle it.
Here's two reasons why.
1. Last Sunday I was a
little stressed about my job. I had tipped a glass of water on somebody, I'd
forgotten a salad, and I'd worked my butt off for hardly any tips. I wasn't
being scheduled full time and I was exhausted from the late
nights. I wanted a new job, or at least another supplement.
To be honest, I've been
struggling for a while now with working as a waitress. Working as anything
really, other then my dream. I'm twenty two! I shout at myself, I have two
degrees! Why aren't I working in ministry? In missions? In aid and
development? With the homeless and hungry? At least, in writing?
Why aren't I working in
any job really that doesn't involve me getting on my hands and knees and
scraping cheese off the floor at 11:30pm, for $2.13 an hour?
Two points. First, God
is teaching me about the meaning of mission and constant joy in Him beyond
circumstance.
Second, He is good.
Sunday I met a man who heads up the organisation Christ for the CityInternational.
In three words, they are
phenomenal.
Not only do they head up
inner-city down-town mission in Omaha, and across several other American
cities; working with local not-for-profits to expose youth group aged kids to
the realities of need within their homes. But they also support local missionaries
all around the world, mainly Latin American, and facilitate trips and
adventures, long and short term, for teams who want to go.
So I meet him Sunday,
interviewed Monday, and started my new job Tuesday. It's part time, super
flexible hours - which fit in perfectly with a constantly changing waitressing
schedule - and as my role develops, I will let you know more. But can I just
say, wow! This is my dream job, and once again; Gods goodness and provision
falls into my little lap when I'm not looking for it, and whilst I'm still
complaining, about things like late night cheese.
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| re-took the strength finders test for my new job. I agree. |
I am blessed.
This weekend I'm heading
into Omaha with a team to feed the homeless and meet need with the love of
Christ head on.
And then 2) On Friday, I
had the absolute privilege of meeting with the Director of Involvement at
Tiny Hands International. Over salad, we shared each others stories, and talked
about the issue of human trafficking and child sex slavery around the world,
like Cambodia, and Nepal. I an Australian and he an American, talked about this
in the middle of a cafe, in the USA.
You know I found out
about that organisation because last year, in the car, I heard somebody mention
the name in passing and it just kind of stuck?
"God works all
things together for my good" kind of comes to mind.
You know I only have my
US visa because many, many years ago - at a youth camp - an older leader I
didn't even know told me about a US sponsorship program? And years later, I
just so happened to recall the name of that organisation when I needed it?
God. Works. All. Things.
Together. For. My. Good.
In complete honesty, I
don't know what my involvement with Tiny Hands will be as yet. But
keep me accountable I must do something.
And finally, you know
that in America, you can turn right even if the lights are red? Granted, you
have to check traffic but if there is none - you can just go. It's so smart and
makes so much sense.
If I sound emotional and
all over the place, well that's because I am. It's week five, and here's to
drinking out of an owl mug, using African coasters, and being home; wherever
God has me.
