finals week!

It is midnight. I am in an odd mood.

Here is my quandary…

I am currently working on a formal exegesis of 1Timothy 2:11-15.

“A woman must quietly receive instruction with entire submissiveness. But I do not allow a woman to teach or exercise authority over a man, but to remain quiet. For it was Adam who was first created, and then Eve. And it was not Adam who was deceived, but the woman being deceived, fell into transgression. But women will be saved through the bearing of children if they continue in faith and love and sanctity with self-restraint.”

If I ever dig myself out of this pile of commentaries to come to a conclusion, I will indeed find myself within a theological paradox!

If I am to follow a redemptive-movement hermeneutic and claim that the spirit of this passage does not restrict women today from teaching with authority, I could never be sure that it wasn’t just my woman nature allowing me to be easily deceived by false teachers!

If I am to conclude that women cannot teach men, then I suppose I ought not turn my paper in for fear that my male professor might read it and be taught! Although if I conclude that women are easily deceived I should assume I am deceived in my understanding, thus proving that women are not easily deceived, and should be permitted to teach. 1.

I suppose it wont matter if I can just remain silent while writing the paper.

Just to be safe, I better get going on that childbearing.



Footnotes

1. Please realize that my authorial intent in this passage is humor and not an accurate portrayal of the views of any school of thought in regards to the egalitarian/complimentarian dialogue.

Why teenaged boys need to shave

Hello friends! Thank you for your prayers for me through this transition time. I haven’t felt as compelled to write blogs lately since connecting in person has become much easier, but Doug Kraft keeps nudging me to write more. I got the day off today, so why not. As a general update; I am working a few jobs for the summer, goofing around with old friends, and getting ready to re-enroll for linguistics at Moody in the fall.

Since Nepal I have devoted life to planting flowers, moving rocks, and clipping shrubs, with a periodical peppering of pizza delivery. Many people have replied with pity when I tell them I am doing landscaping as summer work, but really it has been a fitting occupation for this spot in life. Digging and raking leaves me healthy and provides a lot of time for thinking and processing, and not to mention all the joys of sharing life with a handful of middle-aged, ex-alcoholic men. (Not even sarcasm). Having any job these days is a blessing in and of itself.

The question of the month has been; “What have you learned (/How have you grown) from your time in Nepal?” I still can’t figure out how to answer that. I made up a few excuses… Nepal did not cease to exist when I left, nor the people I lived with, nor the students, nor the pain, problems, poverty, joys, friendships. I am still living in the reality that “Nepal” continues to exist. I wake up in the morning wondering if Ayus (baby I lived with /watched grow for 8 months) has learned to talk yet, or if Sayoni will go through with her wedding next month, or whether someone went to talk to Raj about not beating the shit out of his kids this week. I still get frequent emails from those friends who have email, letting me in on daily life. So in a sense, the “experience” of Nepal is still actively affecting me.

The main difficulty I have in answering that question is that, though there was certainly learning, I am not sure Nepal was actually a time of “growth.”

We rolled up to another private estate that needed some hedge work. I got started on weeding the garden and clipping wild hairs from the euonymus while my boss, the guru of all things green, scoped the yard for any improvements he could make. He stared at a particular lilac for a while, chewing on some sort of decision. The bush was massive, big enough to house a few 7-year-olds with wood planks and hammers. It had huge branches with lots of flowers, but it was leggy and awkward looking with limbs stretching to the four winds. It didn’t fit right into the rest of the garden. I went back to the bush I was working on, taking out the little bits of dead wood and tips that grew in wrong directions. Later the boss called me over to help pick up debris. Where the lilac had been standing were only sticks. Its every single branch had been cut down to the stump. I asked Mike if we were going to dig it up and replace it. He said, “No, it will live! This thing has roots. It’ll grow back beautifully!” I had my doubts… it looked hacked, dead.

Trimming a tree usually just means take out dead, make it a little rounder, clean up the bottom… but an experienced gardener knows when and how far to cut back, even the good branches, to make it more what he has in mind for his garden. I see the months spent in Nepal as more of a trimming time for me. I went in with lots of passion, direction, hopes and plans. Now I am back, feeling a lot smaller, wounded, without clear direction or defining passion. (Not to say that missions or Nepal are out of the picture… I am already hoping to do my internship there next year). In truth, I do not feel like I grew this year… more like I shrunk, but my hope is in the Gardener, His wisdom and mercy.

What's been going on..

Hey friends.

This may well be my last update before I leave, as these last days have filled up well. I suppose you can pray for me just for that. I am trying to figure out a two day seminar, registration for classes at Moody, packing, travel, saying goodbye, saying hello, finding a job, a bunch of paperwork... All that aside, I am also hoping to understand some of how God is leading and teaching me in all these areas.

It has now been two weeks since the school's graduation, and now the kids are on a sort of summer break until the Nepali new year. I've spent about half of those nights at different kids houses, hanging out with the families, and getting to know the parents, grandparents, and all the other old people living with the family. It has been a blessed time living in a community that so easily opens itself up and shares life, the good, the bad, and the dal bhat.

Last week a team of Young Lifers came in and put on a sort of summer camp for all the local youth. A handful of different churches were also represented, and the youth leaders were invited to help, so that was my life last week. The seminar was fun, and I connected really well with my small group.. What stood out to me the most was the visible spiritual warfare throughout the seminar. It was a healthy 50-50 mix of believers and non-believers. At one point during worship a girl started manifesting demon possession and lost consciousness. We woke her up and prayed for her until she came back to her senses. I can't really explain that one any more than that. Later in the week as the speakers were starting to really get to the point of new life in Christ, a minor war broke out amongst the older boys. The leadership had to cut the last day short when the boys started coming with weapons. Even with all the adversity, many youth made the decision to follow Christ! They were also able to meet the Christian youth from their own areas and connect well.

Tomorrow morning I am leaving for a seminar in a village called Palung. I have about six hours of teaching time to fill, and a translator who doesn't really speak English, so I have to at least know all the important words in Nepali. Pray for the seminar, (a sort of leadership seminar for village pastors) and for my translator (Indra) as well!

After five days in the village I will come back here for my belongings, and a little goodbye party at the church. The next day I will head to Kathmandu, spend a few days with friends at the base there, and then take off for Chicago! You can also pray for travel time, since I have never gone that far alone, and it is a moderately intense itinerary.

Sorry, this is sort of just a list of happenings and nothing too thoughtful.

About that murder... I had just gotten on the bus in Mahindra Pul, the biggest shopping area in Pokhara, and started chatting with the lady next to me. she was wearing a red sari, and her stomach flab was enveloping my arm. We then heard a bunch of screaming, and I stood up to see what was going on. A man came tearing across the street in front of the bus with a Nepali khukhuri knife in his hand. He got to the other side of the street and started hacking at a guy standing there. At this point everyone realized the streets were dangerous and all the shop owners slammed their steel garage door shops shut. People were running and yelling everywhere, and the guy getting swung at also took off. The bus driver had started the bus, (though the bus was certainly not full and the next bus had not yet come) and squeezed it down the street as fast as the chaos would let him. I didn't see the guy after he took off cause he went down a side street, and the other guy was following him as the bus left. I was moderately horrified at that point, but I figured the guy got away with a few bad cuts. I found my seat and wondered to myself what kind of rage could possibly provoke a man to attack another in broad daylight with a sword. I didn't find out till the next day that there was indeed a murder in Mahindra Pul in the middle of the day. So that is the story. I don't have any cute moral to wrap it up with, and I don't really know where to file it in my mind either.

Another brief note, thanks for your prayers and encouragement. I am doing a lot better than the last time I updated. I am still confused about a lot of stuff, but I don't feel so depressed or lonely. God is teaching me how to focus on Himself again.

Peace to you, beloved.

Days and nights part 2!

It has been so long since I last updated, I feel obligated to apologize. I am still alive and healthy. Nepali is a lot easier these days. I am still busy with the school and church and all sorts of other tasks… there’s no lack of work, but still seems to be more peace and sanity than in school. It is also dead dry here now. Dry season… go figure. I’ve been told that it is a particularly waterless year though in this area. Dust is everywhere… flies… dirty boogers… hazy air. All that once was green and living is now grey/brown and dead. I wonder what it is like to live in a desert?

I will admit that these last couple months have been harder on me than the first five. I guess some of the excitement of exploring a foreign land and culture has worn off and been replaced by the seclusion of it. I seem to have convinced a lot of people that I am just a Nepali girl with lighter skin and less hair. I know how to be adaptable, and a lot of my habits and traits seem to fit well with this culture anyway, but within I still feel like a foreigner. The way I see and understand life, and many parts of faith, is still radically different than the average Christian Nepali, and quite impossible to explain even if my Nepali was perfect. In my fight with loneliness and some sort of depression, I remind myself of how it isn’t good to be emotionally or spiritually dependent on people anyway, and that this is an opportunity to grow. But, on the other hand, no man is an island. Still, it shouldn’t matter so much what culture and people I commune with, so long as they are part of the family of Christ. Honesty I am surprised by this whole slump I’ve been in the past few months… I haven’t been able to write much mostly because I feel quite empty myself. I guess I figured I would always be the friend on the outside of this kind of struggle looking in. My disposition is usually so steadily bent towards eternal sunshine that I am often even attracted to the melancholy to have a better grip on the reality of life in a broken world.

The real sinker is that I am not really in a good place to take depression seriously. I think in the first few months I stayed here I mostly saw the beauty of this place. I looked around at the sheer simplicity of life, and honestly envied it. People here have a strong aptitude for enjoying simple things. Kids play with rocks for hours on end. Old men meet at the corner every morning to tell jokes and drink tea. I could swear they have been friends since the days they had been playing with rocks. It seems like a beautiful life of community, rich in culture, not hidden behind walls of security, no need to find deeper meaning in life than the goodness of life itself.

As I have continued to envelope myself in this Nepali life I am coming to see more and more the depth of brokenness of life here as well. How can I complain about being a lonely foreigner when my student has a drunkard for a father, who cant even afford to buy him flip flops, or take him to the doctor for the skin rash that is turning his ear into a pussy, bloody mess. How can I validate my feelings of uncertainty about the future when my best friend just lost her husband and has obtained certainty of a quite bleak future struggling to survive for herself and her son. How can I feel depressed about my lack of spiritual understanding when I am swimming in a sea of people who do not even understand that Jesus is the all-powerful God, who holds salvation for this land.

So maybe there is a drought here. I do believe my personal struggle is more a result of my failure to remain in the Living Water to be filled with joy, and instead I have leaned on outside circumstances, which have not been so cheery. Pray for me. Time here is too valuable to stagnate like this. Pray for my friends, church, students, this nation. Pray for rain.

Days and nights

 

This is a pic of Bhabi, her son, her neice and I.

And back

Hey friends,

Thanks for your prayers. Kathmandu was a good time for me. I was especially impressed at the hospitality of the city. It seemed I couldn’t go into an office without being given tea, and I couldn’t get on a bus without someone paying my fare. I got a visa, and the computer is working again! I also got to visit and was blessed by Andrew and the Word Made Flesh team there. If you want to hear a good story, ask me about my Kathmandu visa trip when you see me. (I cant post it here for a number of reasons…). Also, for those of you who haven't heard, I will be flying out of Kathmandu on April 15, headed for Chicago. See yall soon eh?

Coming back was a bit tougher. On the way (the one main road between Kathmandu and Pokhara), there was a big accident. I little kid was hit by a car, and a bunch of people died and were injured, so in a quite sober mood we all sat in a traffic jam for four hours. After arriving at the base and passing a little small talk about how the trip went and why I was so late, my roomie told me that a man we had been praying for when I left for Kathmandu had died that day. He was the husband of one of my good friends and co-teachers in the CSM school, and he had just been hospitalized the night before I left. We found out that he had been suffering from tuberculosis and jaundice for a long time, but had never told anyone. My friend, Bhobi, is a believer, as is her young son, but her husband and everyone else in the family is not. Bhobi is one of the women who, at the women’s fellowship, consistently asks for prayer for her husband and family. Now she is quite inconsolable, as is probably fitting. The last few days has just been hanging out with Bhobi. Honestly, it is pretty tough. Life for her looks pretty bleak right now. She is the only believer in her whole extended family, which has put a considerable amount of distance between her and her support systems. Her family refuses to visit her, or help her in any way. There are also a bunch of issues with the in-laws seeing as they are also all Hindu. She has to undergo all the Hindu mourning rituals, which to me seem like torture inflicted on the mourning person to make sure the time bears enough sorrow to satisfy the dead. And not to mention that in this culture, remarriage of widows is greatly looked down upon. There is also the problem of the huge hospital bills that were racked up in the attempt to save her husband. It is just hard, and there’s no way out of it. This morning I was sitting with her, combing her hair, and trying really hard to understand what she was telling me. I was really blown away by the fact that she is only a few years older than me, but yet the widowed mother of a seven-year-old boy. What is more incredible is that in all the time I have spent sitting with her, I haven’t once heard anything but praise to God from her lips. Yes, she weeps, she worries about her son, about her future, she has spoken of suicide, but never once has she considered turning from her faith, and I doubt she will.

For me it is strange, because it is easy to feel her heaviness with her as we sit together in her house. I can bear that sorrow to some degree with her. But, for me as soon as I step outside of her house, the weight is mostly gone. I can go back to the base and joke around with my roommates. I can get a good night’s sleep no problem. I can go back to America in a few months, and forget the grief of this country For her it isn’t something she can get up and walk out of. I think that is why her faith is proving itself to be so solid. She knows the One who will never leave her alone in her grief and in the struggle that lies ahead.

On another note, this is the first time I have really appreciated the language barrier. I usually feel quite awkward hanging out with people going through great grief. I feel like I need to say the right thing, but I fear it will come across as only ‘the right thing to say’ and thus empty. Anyway, it isn’t so tough for me to just sit with Bhobi. If there was anything good to say, God knows I wouldn’t know how to phrase it right. I don’t feel weird not saying much, and she doesn’t have to say much either.

So that is how it is right now.

Kathmandu bound

Ha, well in my attempts to post that last one I came to understand that my computer is busted. I promise to post the Christmas blog when/if I get it fixed. I am pretty sure there is a good place to bring it in Kathmandu, which is where I will be headed this Wednesday.

I'll be going there for the purpose of working out visa issues, so pray that my travels are safe and that I find favor with this country and am granted another three month visa. This is pretty important at this point.

I am also looking forward to seeing a few familiar faces this month! Scotty and his 212 team are headed this way, and I hope to catch up with Andrew when I am in Kathmandu. There are also some neat Bible translators headed right to the base who are well acquainted with friends of mine on both sides of the globe! It should be an exciting month!

Another prayer request: I am trying to work out a summer job for when I get back to the states, (mid-April). I've heard that this may be a difficult task this year with the economic state of things. If you know of any good openings, (preferably in Chicago or Minnesota, but I am open) lemme know!

My apologies for another boring blog. I love you all!

Yours truly,

December 25!

hmm this isnt working

Holidays

Wow, it has been a while. I didn’t think the business flu that comes with holidays in America would get me here, though it seems some strand of it has stretched this far. The holiday season here (among believers) is a time for outreaches and programs. There have also been short-term teams in and out, so I haven’t been lacking in things to do.

Thanksgiving was neat. It was one of those days… I was sitting amongst a small group of believers in a small Tamang village. We were all squatting around a buffalo-dung powered stove, decked out in jackets to stay warm, eating what they call dedho. (It is sort of like malt-o-meal from a few days ago, without any sugar, maple, or chocolate, and you dip it in meat grease so it isn’t so sticky and goes down easier!) So I was sitting there, looking down at my plate, and at that moment I remembered that that very day was Thanksgiving! (Nepalis don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, so I hadn’t been thinking of it too much). I was tempted for a second there, while staring at my plate, to skip the thankfulness part of thanksgiving. That plate, the smell, the mud floor, everything seemed so far from the warmth and happiness I am usually so thankful for on Thanksgiving. That plate seemed almost like an ironic joke when I thought about what my sister and brothers would be eating 12 hours from that moment. Then I looked up.

I looked up that thanksgiving night and saw 10 faces glowing in the light of the stove. Two of the faces were of people who, putting cultural/language differences aside, have become dear friends, and who have loved me better than I have ever loved a foreigner in my own land. One face was a man who has also become a close friend. He reminds me of my own dad; a goofy, outgoing guy with a simple sense of humor and a love for the Lord. He leads the church-planting outreach team. Four more faces were those of a young Nepali couple and their two young kids. They had left the comfort of their own hometown to be the first Christians to live in this Buddhist village, and next to them were the first three members of the church they are planting there. I used the best Nepali I could come up with to tell that family of believers about Thanksgiving, and they decided it would be best to pray again, (we had already prayed for the food) and offer God our thanks. I don’t remember thinking about turkey after that!

It is all too easy to stare down. To think about the things I am missing. Even now, Christmas is so soon, and it is easy to think of being with my family, or to think of those familiar, sweet hymns we sing in this season. It is easy to think of the things that could be had, or have been had. Still, day-by-day God continues to lift my eyes up to Him, and to the great riches he has dumped on me in this incredible chunk of life. With my eyes up, I have seen a sick woman putting her faith in our Jesus and being healed. I also saw her whole families then join the church because of it. I saw a Nepali DTS team come back from outreach glowing with stories of what the Lord had done through their submission to Him. I’ve seen one of my own students put his faith in Jesus! I’ve followed Jesus alongside brothers and sisters from India, Nepal, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, USA, Sweeden, and Spain. I’ve seen flocks of parrots flying over rice patties through a sunset that fell behind a mountain unclimbed by humankind! With my eyes up, I have seen God’s glory! Pray for me, that He will keep my eyes up and on Him.

Barf and finances

Well friends, I come to bring that joyous news you have all been waiting for: support raising details! Yep, I finally got something worked out, though it isn't perfect, I think it will suffice.

YWAM has agreed to let me raise some support through their Colorado base, but only the support goes to the Pokhara base's account. What that means is if you would like to help pay for my room, board, and ministry expenses, (which come to about $100 a month, 8 months... ) then you can send support to the Colorado address at the bottom! It is super slick, and they will send you a fancy receipt for your tax deductible claims... nice. The other side of support raising will be trickier, cause I cant do it through YWAM, so there will be no tax deductible, and you would just have to trust my parents that your support will go where you want it to. I still need to buy a return ticket from Nepal for my trip home in April. I am guessing that will be another $800. If you want to help with that, you can just send checks to my home address, (also at bottom) and make them out to my parents. =) Gotta love em!

It would also be super nice, (since I am not sure how I am gonna keep track of this, and I would like to thank you personally) if you could send me an email and let me know if you decided to support me financially.

Ha, I am sorry, this is a lousy support letter. ...not even a letter! Please do not feel obliged to support me financially. I also want to thank you all who read this for all your spiritual and emotional support already! The feedback has been awesome and I have found many like hearts. I think leaving Nepal will be hard in another 4 months, but I am exceedingly thankful I have such a neat family, (in a broader sense) to come back to. Thank you also to those of you who helped me financially already, even without my askin, and without a system of any sort. Y'all rock. God bless you.


CO Address:

Nepali Alliance
P.O.Box 60579
Colorado Springs, CO 80960

(Make checks payable to YWAM, and include a note designating funds to Wendy Cornelius. Do not put my name on the check!)


Home address:
4638 Twin Haven Rd.
Minnetonka, MN 55343

(Make checks payable to Joanne, or Larry Cornelius)

Peace to you friends,
Wendy

P.s. About the "barf", well partially I was just enjoying the B theme of my titles, but I thought you also would love to know that this week I experienced my first real deep-Asia sickness! Honestly, I am still marveling in my body's ability to eject its entire contents in a matter of hours... it really is an incredible defense system! I am feeling better today, and drinking lots. No worries. =)

P.p.s. About 2 posts back, I did mean dam, not damn. Hehe, sorry guys, not too focused on English these days!