knitting, reading, summer, school

You remember the kingdom gloves I posted about a few months back? Well, around the time I posted the pattern I started the gloves. I got through part of the cuff and stuck them in a bag and forgot about them. Monday night, I pulled them out of said bag, ripped out what I'd knit (it was going to be near impossible to find my place in that crazy, 9-page-long pattern), and started over. So far, this is my progress:

Yippee. It's so fun!
Sometime before the end of 2013 I hope to have tackled my two dream knitting projects: a lace shawl (I'm currently looking through the 2,000 + patterns on Ravelry to find the most gorgeous one) and a sweater (I know exactly the one I'm making). 


That and working is pretty much what I've been doing this week. I'm workin' all I can over the next couple of weeks, picking up every hour offered to me, because between June 20th and the end of August, the longest period of time I'll be home and available to work for is 11 or 12 days. I'm taking a total of 5 trips this summer, and I'll also be taking time off from work when Megan and her dear ones come up for a couple weeks.
I'm really looking forward to this crazy summer.
My trips include a camping trip with the church; two camps in Douglas, Mass., for one of which I'll be a camper and the other a counselor- also with/sponsored by the church; a trip to West Virginia to see family (hallelujah chorus, please); and a family vacation at a remote cabin in Vermont.

Shortly after returning from the last trip of the summer, I'll be starting my first ever real college class. See, I've made some decisions regarding school. There's this community college in Porstmouth, Great Bay, which has an amazing two year nursing program. At the end of the program, you're ready to take the test to get your RN- and their students have extremely high rates of success when it comes to passing said test. The only problems are 1. I can't get in this year (I'd hoped to, but I missed the deadline- and I'm not eligible because I'm still technically going to be in high school next year and I can't take my GED/quit being in high school until I'm 18) and 2. It's pretty competitive. Because it's basically the fast track to becoming a nurse, there are 300+ applicants and only 56 spots. So I'm trying to get an edge/lighten the heavy course load that I would have if I did get in by taking a couple of classes that are part the program. They'd count towards my degree if I did get in.
So fall 2012 semester, I'm taking pre-caculus at home, a math class at Great Bay, and a chemistry class at Exeter High School. Although my SAT scores for math were fairly high, I still want to take the test again and bring them up higher because that gives me a better chance of getting into the nursing program in fall 2013. I'm taking the math class at GB first because I figure the more math I do before I retake the SATs, the better I'll do on the test.
So that was a bunch of probably boring and unwanted information on my school plans. But I'm excited about it!

This past week, I finished A Tale of Two Cities. Finally. It wasn't that I didn't enjoy it, it's just that I haven't had a ton of time to read lately. So I'd been reading it for ten-fifteen minutes at a time on my breaks at work, and it took me a couple months to get through it (I read the last third of the book last Saturday- a lovely rainy day). But I'm done! Two thumbs up. That Dickens guy... He could really write.
So now, as part of my mission to read a greater number of classic books, I'm reading A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. I just started it this morning, and I'm not far in at all. I shall let you know how that goes (maybe. To be honest, I may just space out and not blog again for a couple of months).
By the way, my Nook + Project Gutenberg = awesomeness.

I'm done.

missions trip

It's been an awesome and crazy week.

A group (including four Lowes) from FBCH went on a missions trip this week. We went to a campsite in Douglas, Massachusetts. Most of we teenagers were counselors for groups of kids from Worcester. It was amazing.
It was a day camp- the kids were there from 10:00-3:30. There were 6 groups of kids according to age, and I was with 10 and 11-year-olds. We had an average of 9 kids in our group, and four counselors. Our senior counselor was very encouraging, and it was a blessing to work with her.
We left for Worcester after church on Sunday. I think there were something like 22 or 23 of us, including a couple people who couldn't stay for the entire week.

On Monday, things were pretty hectic for me because I was supposed to be helping to make things happen and I had no idea how they were supposed to work. But it was still good.

Tuesday was quite possibly one of the most smooth days. I got to spend a little more time thinking about my campers and a little less about what I needed to do next.

Wednesday was the best day. We took the kids to the beach. On Wednesday, I also met a little boy named Erik. He had been making trouble, and had decided he was going to switch teams partly because he didn't like his and partly because he wanted to be with his big sister, Dajah.
It was hard to deal with Erik from the beginning. One of the women from camp and I had to practically wrestle him to get him to sit still during the Bible lesson of the morning. But by the end, he had taken a liking to me.
When I first met Erik, I wasn't too happy about his decision to switch to our team- I just felt like I didn't need any more trouble. But during Tabernacle time, something he said made me realize that he is a completely precious creation of God's who just needed a little love.
So Erik was my special camper all week. I got to love on him, and, thanks to Mrs. Smith, my senior counselor, he stopped acting up so much during Tabernacle. Mrs. Smith was the one who realized that Erik needed something to occupy his hands if he was going to sit still. When she gave him a snap bracelet and some modeling clay, he not only behaved well, but he payed attention, which is more important. He knew the lessons after that.
Anyway, back to beach day: after Tabernacle, we took the kids to the beach. We rode with them on the schoolbus (yup, that was a first) and we each had two or three campers that were our personal responsibilities. I had Erik, Dajah, and Angelee.

Erik and Dajah and their brother, Damen (also on my team) are great. I get the feeling that, even though they live with their mom, she doesn't do that great a job of taking care of them. Dajah is an amazing little girl who has taken on the responsibility of caring for her two little brothers. She and I got to spend some time together on beach day, and she is simply (although it's not simple at all) one special little girl.

What was great about beach day was that it wasn't so many rules, it wasn't so much scheduled time, it was just a chance to know and love the kids. So it started (and ended- Erik was upset when I got off the bus and he had to stay on and go home) on a rough note, and it was hard and exhausting, but it was the best day.

Thursday, we had another difficult day. Instead of lunch in the dining hall, we took the kids out- two teams to a group- and made fires in the field. We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over them for lunch. And I showed them how to set up a tent- not exactly something I had expected to be doing, but it worked. It didn't collapse on the kids or anything! ;)
Erik ran away from craft time on Thursday. He didn't want to make the project. But it was a chance to talk one-on-one with him. He knows his God stuff. But it was so frustrating and painful to realize that he doesn't quite GET it and that I have no idea how to change that at this point... All I can do is pray that he does. I guess this is part of what Paul talks about - the different stages of caring for a seedling/plant. I hope I may have been part of the watering stage for Erik.

Friday was the last day. It was hard to see the kids go, but great to know that we made a difference in their lives, however big or small that was for each individual one. 

I've worked with kids at camps before (RRC's Big Kick; VBS in Moldova), but never on this level or with kids in a situation SO different from my own (yes, I realize the Moldovan kids are from a completely different culture, but they were all from Christian families). Every day was challenging, exhausting, and extremely awesome.


In addition to the interaction with the kids, I got to spend a lot more time with the people from our church team, getting to know them all better. That was great. I love being part of this family :)

We got back last night. I can easily say that I am as tired today as I was the day after I got back from Moldova- and there was an 8-hour time difference in that instance. But it was all SO worth it!

moldova 2011

For a couple months now, I’ve been prayerfully considering a return to Moldova this year. I’ve wanted to do God’s will, and yet of course there is part of me that wants to go whether it’s right in His eyes or not.

Whether God could use me there, whether I would learn from the experience, whether I could raise support… These weren’t really the questions. The question was “is God calling me to go to Moldova in 2011?”

                At the beginning of this week, I felt confident that I should go. My one catch: if the dates of the First Baptist of Hampton camping trip/VBS conflicted with the dates of the Moldova trip, I would take it as a God-sign and say no.

                Tuesday morning, I got the dates for the FBC trip. It was scheduled for the last 4 days of the 12-day Moldova trip. I calmly and quietly accepted: no Moldova.

                I went through Tuesday without telling anyone, except maybe Zoe, about it. Until Bible study. [I would just like to make a note that we have a Bible study made of myself and 3 of the awesomest girls in New Hampshire, led by the best-ever leader] There, Michelle [our leader], who’s been praying about it with me for the last few weeks, asked how it was going. I told her.

                During Bible study, there was a question in the material that sparked something. Zoe told us (she hadn’t said anything to anyone) that she’d been wondering if she should go to Moldova ever since I had. She had some very good reasons.

                We went home and talked to our parents, and, like the bull-headed little girl I can sometimes be, I grabbed on to the hope of going- again.

                By the end of our conversation, I was completely and totally confused and upset. I tried to put it out of my mind for the night, and met with moderate success.

                I woke up in the morning emotionally exhausted. Completely. I didn’t want to think about it, and so I tried not to, but of course I couldn’t help it. I had a couple conversations with my mother throughout the day, and went to bed torn for the second night in a row.

                On Wednesday, I knew I needed to make a decision soon. So did Zoe. Zoe decided not to go. In the afternoon, I called my former pastor, who heads up the team every year. I talked to him about what I was feeling, and he was very encouraging. Something great about Ted: even though he really wanted me to come and made no secret of it, he didn’t try to convince me. Ted asked me what my gut feeling was. At that point, I had no clue. I had been back and forth so much that my gut was as confused as the rest of me.

                I told Ted that last year, I hadn’t been as involved with the kids as I had wanted to be. And while that was ok, I knew I needed to do more if I went this year. I was wondering if there was a possibility that there would be more for me to do. He told me that his wife, who has been the American head of the children’s programs for the last couple of years, wanted to rotate towards women this year. This would leave a big hole, quite possibly to be filled by me.

                I had been feeling anxious to the point of nausea and jumpiness as I hemmed and hawed over my decision. When I heard they could really use me, I was suddenly relaxed. My stomach didn’t hurt and I was calm. I felt called to go. I spent a blissful evening of confidence, but I was questioning again soon.

                Thursday was another day of being caught up in a whirlwind of confusion. That night, I asked God to help me step back and look at things the way He wanted me to look at them. I asked that I either wake up knowing or know by the end of Friday.

                This morning, I woke up knowing. I didn’t want to admit that I knew, though, because I did not like the answer. My gut had figured itself out, and it said no. I still held on, though.

                This afternoon, my parents told me it was time to decide and asked me what I was thinking. I told them: I really, really want to go, but I don’t think it’s right. Five minutes later, Dad had fired off a text to the pastor to let him know Zoe and I wouldn’t be coming, and I was in tears.

                I wish I could say God gave me a sign that I needed to tell Ted I was coming, after all. I wish with all my heart that I could go.

I love those kids. So unspoiled and full of wonder and imagination, so ready to be shown God’s love via action (by the way, their parents do show them daily). I want to be the American who cares.

I love those adults: so obedient to God, so passionate about Him, so trustful towards Him, even though they live lives filled with extreme hardship. I wanted to be a blessing to them through their kids.

                Ted tells a story about the first year he went, how he was talking to people and getting email addresses and contact info, telling them he would write as soon as he got home. The missionary we work with in Moldova quietly took him aside and said, “Ted, don’t be a splash-‘n’-dash. Don’t tell them you care about them if you’re not willing to make them a priority. You’ll break their hearts if you don’t really keep in touch with them.” Ted’s response was that he wasn’t going to be a splash-’n’-dash. And I don’t want to be either. I hoped I could be an American they could count on, and I think maybe I still can be, just not this year.

                I really do have a heart for these people. I can’t say enough how much I wish I could go. But I’m not going because I’m not convinced God is telling me to.

                As I look back at all my see-sawing and holding on over the last couple of months, I realize that the lesson in this is probably just to let go if it’s not what God wants. I think I knew the whole time, underneath it all, that I probably shouldn’t go, but I wasn’t willing to admit it to myself, much less other people.

                It’s incredibly painful to let go. I’ve cried a lot today, and I’m not out of tears yet. But I think I really am making the right decision, as much as my heart cries out against being torn like this. I need to put out roots here this summer, and the VBS trip will be a good way to do that. But it’s more than that. If I believed in astrology, I’d say the stars had aligned to keep me from going to Moldova. I’m a Christian, so I say that it just wasn’t in God’s plan for me this year.

                This does not mean in any way that I’m not going back to Moldova. In fact, I firmly believe that I’ll visit it again in the future. Just not now. But I can’t wait for the day when I am able to play soccer (horribly) with those little boys and hug those little girls again.