Marriage:

that thing that was at one time very distant, and seemingly too sacred for personal use; that complicating season of life beginning with a few humbling scenarios, including a decision usually made at a time when one is most blinded by bliss, and sewn together with wonderfully erroneous expectations...

Yep, definitely got married.

The wedding was wonderful. There's nothing quite like being so surrounded with people who love you, and desire to micro-manage your wedding day to death. All in all it went well. The reception was colorful and busy. The food was excellent, the booze was cold, and the atmosphere cozy, (thanks to our family and friends' hard work.)

That brings us to here. Alaska. All the Birch trees are turning yellow and the hills are suddenly glowing gold and orange, it's really something.

Jimmy and myself are successfully wedded, and into full-time nesting mode, (well, I am... I'm not sure if men 'nest' exactly)   :)

It's like playing house. We're moving all of our stuff in, arguing over which sex needs more space (seriously, who believes in equal-opportunity closet usage?) making sure the toilet paper feeds over the top, helping each other through the difficult parting of redundant copies of Calvin & Hobbes books, taking turns sopping up the spillage from our leaky sink, and purchasing expensive caffeinated beverages with the money we rake in from selling the screaming undisciplined children that college family housing abandons on our doorstep. (We've decided that the University is surely sacrificing their surplus offspring to us to offset the ridiculously heinous rent...)

School has started, and my job has swung into full time. Life is stable for the time being.

Since so many of you have asked, our new address is:

PO Box 753005 Fairbanks, AK 99775 

Many dishes to wash, and boxes to unpack, more later.

 

 

It was very sweet.

Valentine’s day was a bit of a bust, we both had lots of homework, and I told him not to get me anything... so he didn’t really get me anything. Which was fine, really, Valentine’s day is a lousy excuse for a holiday anyway. So we spent the evening doing homework, but naturally I was a bit bummed, (being that I’m a girl, and girls buy into lousy holidays.) Anyway, I know he could tell that I was a little bummed, and he can’t stand having done something to make me feel sad, so he explained that he was waiting for something to arrive in the mail.

I went with it, (suspecting all the while that the item in post would be small, round, and measured in karats.)

On Monday he picked me up from class with a big smile, a brilliant bouqeut of flowers, and an adorable new rug for my unhomely dorm room, (he’s a wonderful practical gift-giver, and I really wanted this rug.)

So we went and hung out at the place he’s house-sitting, made grilled cheeses and tomato soup, watched a movie, did some homework, and then around 11pm he said we should go for a walk.

I went with it.

We bundled up, though it wasn’t too cold (it was around 0, but once you’ve been in -50, 0 is practically balmy.) We walked and talked and got to the end of the snowy road when he grabbed my arm and pointed up. For the next 25 minutes we watched the northern lights swirl and shift accross the sky. It was truly the most amazing thing I have ever seen... ever.

It was SO beautiful, and silent and unpredictable, and right over our heads. The color left me speechless and I didn’t want to peel my eyes away. But eventually the clouds rolled in and it faded. So we started walking back to the house when he turned to me and dropped down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Just like that. It was very sweet and very simple, and exactly what I wanted-- no fuss, no frill, just us as ourselves.

So I went with it.

 

Blog in a nutshell because it's been an insano week, and my time is more valuable than double-stick tape:

Jimmy proposed to me on Monday, and I said yes, and the wedding is in August in Utah, ask me for details if you're interested...

:)

 

Fairbanks, Alaska:  cold, dark, white.

 

(Everything looks nice and tranquil under two feet of snow.)

 

After all the planning and anticipation, I'm finally here. We arrived Friday afternoon a little later than scheduled (exactly 12 hours in fact) but we've proven that no amount of airline hurdles can derail us. Not lost baggage, difficult check-ins, crazy layovers…or even emergency landings.

 

We got to the Seattle airport in good time, gave our hugs of thanks and goodbyes to the Darrows, checked in just fine (for once) and boarded our plane. It was a pretty big sucker- over a hundred passengers, over booked, etc. Jim and I got to sit together, so at least this time we weren't bound to have any emotional breakdowns.

 

We were in the air about an hour when this elderly gentleman started to pace up and down the isles, opening and feeling around inside the luggage compartments, clearly looking for something specific. No one paid him too much attention until the flight crew attempted to get the beverage service going he wouldn't get out of the way. He was old, but he was a decent size and plugged up the whole isle pretty efficiently.

 

In a raised voice he mumbled something about the lights being broken, and he was trying to fix them… he also claimed he was the captain.

 

It got down to forceful words and it became clear that this guy suffered from some kind of mental health issue, and that he was traveling completely alone. Nothing he said made sense and when a stewardess gently touched his elbow in an effort to direct him back to his seat he flipped out, grabbed her by the shoulders and started shoving her up the isle quite forcefully.

 

The incredible thing is that within seconds about 6 nearby passengers jumped up and to the aid of this poor terrified stewardess, and it ended up taking that many guys including the air Marshall to restrain him. It was decently scary. They held him there in the isle, and words were exchanged, they let him go, and he almost attacked another flight attendant, so once again, he was grabbed and this time they cleared out his row, struggled to zip tie his hands, and belted him down in a chair (with the help of the 6-8 hero passengers.) The whole ordeal took place in about 15 minutes.

 

Protocol said our plane had to make an emergency landing to remove the dangerous person, but since we were flying over Canada, we had to turn around. We originally took off from Seattle at 9:30pm, and at 11:30 we were back on its tarmac. We were told that we had to stay in our seats and buckled when we landed because when there's a threat on a plane and it has to make an emergency landing, the problem is controlled by local authorities. The plane pulled up to a gate in a flurry of flashing lights, and we were boarded by a number of uniformed officials, including a paramedic who had apparently been informed of this guy's medical situation, appeared to give him something, and then removed him from the plane.

 

It was all very exciting. We were only a few rows behind all the action. I couldn't help feeling really sorry for this guy. I hope that he doesn't have any understanding of the kind of disturbance he caused. As far as we could tell the flight attendants and passengers were all ok.

 

It was long after midnight before we made it to the airline desk where we received food vouchers, hotel accommodations, and tickets out for the next day. Jimmy and I had nothing serious waiting in Fairbanks, and there were enough people making a fuss around us that we didn't have anything to be but calm and collected. The sad adventure-deprived part pf my brain actually enjoyed the whole thing.

 

We made friends with the hotel shuttle driver, and so after we checked into our room (they only gave us one because our flights were booked together,) he drove us to Denny's where they accepted airline food vouchers. So we had a french toast and mozzarella stick date at 3 am, then only had time to watch half a movie in the hotel room before we had to catch our 6am flight out (with no hostile dementia patients.)

 

I felt like I would never get here even as we boarded the second plane in Seattle, but God is good.

 

At least they didn't lose our bags (this would be the first leg to buck that irritating trend.)

 

It took all Saturday to recover, but I have greeted the dim, -5, buried in wads of snow Fairbanks world with arms wide open. Who knows, maybe I'll spend a fair chunk of my life here. It's really quite beautiful right now. The sun starts setting at 11am, and takes nearly 5 hours to go down, filling the sky is the most beautiful colors. I could get used to this—actually I could never get used to this, but that's why I think I will like it.

 

I would appreciate your prayers as school starts up on Wednesday, and the weather gets colder (whimper.) I will need it!

 

Great big Alaska hugs,

Anne

Two weeks to go and nothing has changed.

With the study tour complete, (certificate of achievement in hand,) and the holidays ambling steadily closer, I now face the daunting task of leaving this place.

I'm going home.

Out of boredom (or perhaps a transparent insecurity,) I looked up "home" in the dictionary. Of course there was a wide variety of definitions including but not limited to physical structures, animal dwellings, and something about missiles, but after a little sifting I found the one I wanted:

"The place in which one's domestic affections are centered."

I actually chuckled out loud when I read the term "domestic affections,"  as opposed to foreign affections, I suppose,  (similar to those found in long-distance relationships?)

By that definition, then, I am home right now. I love this family and these kids like we share kidneys or something. That's pretty darn domestic. And then in two weeks when I'm in Utah, I'll be home because I'll be with my family, and we actually could share kidneys if need be. Not to mention there will be snow and cocoa and a Christmas tree, and those things always help the general affection for a place. And then a month later Fairbanks will grant its foreign title to Utah, and itself become…home.

And the transition grows steadily hairier…

UAF is kicking my butt. If I was there myself I'd do a little booty-imprinting on whoever designed that backward website. Really, I am very pleased that it took those labored people only TWO MONTHS to examine my PERFECT grades, and decide I was Alaska-worthy. Heavens, people… do they not pay you? Actually, I'm just convinced that transfer students are the scum of the earth. Ok, I'm done ranting now, but it has been a stressful journey through applications and hold muzak.  Aaaaand it's not over.

God knows.

It's bizarre to think about the changes that have occurred in me and around me in the last 6 months. I have felt like the tool doing the wrong work at times. Which reminds me of Petra bending the broomstick yesterday, and me trying to explain to her why aluminum is not really horse-riding material. I have gone to bed some nights feeling a little bent and misused. But all together, there have been more moments in which I am being shaped with recognizable intent. Now, shaping for what… I haven't a clue, do I ever?

Anyway, for all of you kiddoes who want to get together when I'm in your various appendages of the woods, here's the schedule:

Utah:   Dec.1st -- January 3rd
Oregon: January 4th -- 9th   (Portland/ Salem/ Cannon Beach)
Seattle:  January 10th --17th
Alaska: likely forever and ever amen

Make your plans and let me know. I've got a bazillion things already packing into the month of December, this is a limited time offer, so order now while supplies last.  :)

This also means that those of you who have special requests of the Holy Land, I've only go two weeks to fill them so let me know about that too.

Please pray for me. I need sanity to deal with the school situation, and also pray for a safe, uneventful (I chuckle as I type it) flight home on the 39th.  Love you all much. See some of you very soon!

Grace and Peace,
Anne

yeah, I know. Once again, I've put this thing off for too long, and now have a ridiculous amount of information to relay to y'all.

I should be in bed, sleeping. But instead I will sit here correcting every fourth word that my cold fingers can't get right the first time in the dark.

Life is good. I've been sick more than I've been healthy, but nothing amoeba-like, or parasitic... just cold related. 

I'm studying my butt off for the upcoming tour for which my family (minus the Seattlite) arrives in exactly one week. My room is a mess of maps and colored highlighters. I've never been so intent on studying something... especially geography (insert nasty gutteral sound here.) But it's totally worthwhile. I'm learning a TON. I am really excited to travel around the country and cement what I've been reading.

Last week we loaded up the whole crew (kids, parents, and assorted family relations,) and trucked up to Galilee.

Wow. What a place!

I swam in the sea that Jesus walked on, and calmed with his words.... I kayaked down the river that He was baptised in... I ate the kind of fish that Peter caught in his nets, and walked the shore of Capernaum. There was a frikkin qumquat orchard outside our hotel room with a view of the sea and the Mt. of the Beattitudes. It was a bit surreal. So far it is my favorite place I have seen yet.

P.S. If you don't know what a qumquat is... you're not alone. Go take a bite out of an unpeeled lemon, and you've basically had the qumquat experience.

I wonder if Jesus ate qumquats... that sounds like a kid's story... or a threadless shirt: Jesus and the qumquat....

haha. (I'm afraid that sleep is required for more sophisticated humor.)

Anyway, I'm home now... home being Jerusalem. It's gotten chilly at night, but it hasn't rained yet. Oh I would like some of that rain.

I'm feeling a little useless being cooped up in my room sick all the time, with family houseguests galore. (We're up to 10 people in the apartment this week.) So the kids are getting bounced from knee to knee, greatly outnumbered by adoring adults, and I often wonder why I'm here anymore. But the feeling passes, and I realize that self-pity is the root of all evil.

Oh there's so much more, but I'm exhausted, and feeling guilty that I didn't spend this time studying. SO with that: a fond farewell. I'll blog again soon, but let's be honest... it will be atleast a month. 

Grace, Peace, and qumquats,
Anne

I realize that it's been nearly a month since I've blogged, taking any and all questions and complaints in stride. Life has taken many a bizarre turn since August, and myspace has been the least of my concerns.

Before September came we traveled to Jordan for a simple stamp in our passports, ensuring another three months of legal stay in Israel. Unfortunately it was not quite as simple as it sounds. There is not much to tell, harrowing hours in taxis, unimaginable heat, and a few nights in a hotel, one of them exceedingly uncomfortable due to a nasty Jordanian gut-eating parasite that nibbled away at our intestines for a week after we returned from Amman that eventually required prescription medication. We concluded that no one in their right mind should go to Jordan.

Don't go to Jordan.

So then life returned to normal. (I should insert here that a "normal life" in Israel is simply the attempt to maintain some semblance of order and repetition of activities in a place where NOTHING is as you expect it to be, and never the same twice.)  We had had about two weeks of this normalcy, having finally purged ourselves of Jordan, when Rachel brought home a stomach bug that very systematically brought us all down again one by one. And down is an understatement. For those of you lucky few out there who have had the Norwalk virus… yeah, it was kinda like that.

Currently, there is no illness in the apartment, however I have no doubt that something lurks to pounce upon our ravaged immune systems. I have lost all hope in complete health.

I've already started to equate the Middle East with severe gastrointestinal distress.

So September came quietly, and has somehow snuck it's way into the third week. The halfway point of my time here has come and gone almost without my notice. It has started getting chilly at night, and the moisture is twice what it was a month ago. There are summer things dying and fallish things blooming everywhere. I am absolutely anxious for the rain to start. I haven't seen rain in ages. This was my favorite month in Oregon for that reason... I miss that place so!

September has brought a few cheerier adventures than the ones spent in beds with buckets. We were visited by a hedgehog named Flinger, but he kept living up to his title and flinging the dirt from his cage, so his stay was short, and we released the poor old cancerous beast back into the wild. (I have posted a few sentimental pictures.)

The evenings are still warm, and we have eaten the occasional Shabbat dinner out on the balcony. All of us sitting down to eat at the same time is nothing short of a miracle, so these nights are really a blessing.

Through all of this I can't help but wonder if my life in Alaska will be this random, or if "normal" in the Alaskan dictionary really does mean…well, normal. Small children really do multiply the randomness factor, nevertheless, I will be quite sad to leave them behind to grow up and forget about me. Especially Rachel. I have seen her change so much in the last 2 months. She has such bright eyes and impish little grins; daringly mischievous, and wonderfully playful.  When she's not eating bird poop off the balcony railing, she absolutely melts my heart. Time may move slowly throughout the day, but the weeks are a blur. Even though my leaving here is the advent of my reunion with the man that I truly love, soon I will be saying real goodbyes to other real people that I really love.

But God is good.

Ahh, September, will you be over so soon?

How long can I hold this child off the ground? How long will she hang in the air with her feet curled under her like a lame little bird? Her iron will refuses to stand up, and mine will not relent to hold the overly dramatic child in the adorable blue jumper.

The ultimate battle of wills has begun.

She puffs her cheeks and her eyebrows lower down in utter determination. My arms begin to tremble with fatigue. She swings out her left mini-tennis-shoed foot in an attempt to cling to my leg, but I am citius, altius, fortius. No child will melt my composure. I begin lowering her diapered bottom to the floor, and a whimper like a wounded puppy escapes her rosy lips--a small welling begins in the pockets of her big brown eyes.

Soon I realize: the child will be held.

Call them joys of motherhood. Call them the blessings of the Earth, call the buggers whatever you want, just for heaven's sake don't let it go to their heads! If they weren't so darn cute, our species would never survive. We would devour our own young.

Yesterday as I was changing child number three's hideously putrid diaper. (I swear she had eaten a decomposed fish.) When child number two thrashed her way onto the couch and the forehead of child number three bashed into the nose of child number two, thus causing it to spurt blood in all directions, causing child number one--who just came onto the scene-- to run around screaming like the world is coming to an end. And it was in this moment that I realized what being a mother truly is: having multiple bodily juices from your multiple miniature people on you in multiple places, and still maintaining your sanity.

I can't believe that I've been here for two months already. The days drag on and ON as if they're coated in tar and transported through the desert by donkey. And yet the weeks just zip by, and suddenly it's Shabbat again and I can't get the milk and eggs because the grocery store is closed.  

At this two-month mark of my time here in Jerusalem, we are totally consumed with moving into another apartment. The family that graciously rented this one to us is returning, and with the ministry project extended, the need for another larger apartment became apparent.

I have spent the last few weeks in fervent prayer over the issue of making myself available to the family next spring. I wouldn't mind any prayers that you could lob my way in regard to this. I love these babies like they are my own, but I am more than eager to be close to Jimmy. Anyway, after a little guidance-seeking, and answered prayer, I have received peace about my decision not to come back. Granted, anything could change between now and then, but my plans to relocate my life (again) to Alaska have resumed their original course, (much to the relief of a certain young man.)

So after spending an arm and a leg at Ikea, (many thanks to 8 hours of hard work from the guys and a little help from 3 youngsters,) we now have a fully furnished apartment. It's a beautiful place. It's two stories, 5 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, two balconies, and all the cupboard space any child could ever want for a raucous game of hide and seek. And, you know, there's a broken sink that leaks all over your feet as you wash the dishes, and part of the counter is missing, and the railing on the balcony is low enough for a child to fall over, and there may or may not be a really hard, treacherous staircase staged for many a head-trauma, but oh, it will we loved well.

I have to keep reminding myself that I am in Israel. What I see mostly is the westernized parts of town, and I forget the struggle, and the longing, and the multi-thousand-year grudges that linger in the air here. But I see the people, and I read the news, and I heard of a Christian family that's getting deported for evangelizing (which is illegal here.) And I learned of a hospital that is devoted to people who've caught the "Jerusalem Syndrome" and think that they're the messiah… we're not in Kansas anymore Toto, so don't leave your apartment in shorts just yet.

But oh, it's fun, and exciting, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

That being said, if anyone doesn't know what they're doing with their life, and they want to hop on a plane for Jerusalem, I'm totally extending an invitation. I'll put you up and feed you, and show you around. I'm serious. When will it be safer? Never. Or easier? Likely not soon.

Oh, also, my address is changing, so if I gave you have my old one, email me and I'll get you my new one asap, cuz starting next week I'll be in the new place.  And if you haven't looked at my new pictures, you need to get on that. Ok I love you all, and miss you so!

Grace and Peace,
Anne