broken, not crushed

The last two weeks have felt like a year. I had been working a lot of extra hours on a freelance project, so by last Friday I was really tired. I still worked from 4:00 pm to 1:30 am that day. I went to bed exhausted but feeling pretty good because I was able to do some pretty tricky jobs that night.

Then Saturday happened. I got up a bit later than normal, had a good quiet time with the Lord and then walked into my office. I don't think anything could have prepared me for seeing my entire desk, along with everything on it, covered in water. There sat my computer, back-up hard drive, printer, modem, a friend's jump drive and Jon Mark's study books all looking like swimming was their favorite sport. I quickly threw on some clothes and ran upstairs to the apartment above me to see if we could find where the leak was coming from. (I wish the guy had bothered to throw on clothes before he opened the door.) Anyway, we couldn't find the leak, but they said they would call their landlord as soon as Shabat was over (most traditional Jews do not talk on the phone on Shabat). I left their apartment and burst into tears. I left Racheli a sobbing message, called some friends to pray and started cleaning up.

All that work. My livelihood. I couldn't think; all I could do was cry. But the Lord was very gracious and had made provision for me. For some reason that I can't explain, I had burned a disk earlier in the week that had everything except Friday's work on it. And as for Friday's work, I had been obsessed with getting it e-mailed on Friday night, even though I knew that the folks at DaySpring had probably already gone home. So I was able to retrieve everything I sent from my e-mail's "Sent" folder. That means that I lost only one file that was pretty easy to recreate. Yay. I won't think about all the personal stuff that could be gone forever, like about 1000 of my favorite songs. Funny thing about that is that I had just noticed that I didn't have all my music on my computer at work and that's why I had my friend's jump drive in the first place. I had loaded the missing songs onto it before the leak and it wasn't damaged at all (Thank God!)

Well, I haven't had the nerve to get the computer to the MacDoctor again. I'm afraid of what it will cost. Ori, the landlord upstairs, is already saying it's not his responsibility to cover that cost. Racheli is saying that it is his responsibility. And I'm stuck in the middle, feeling broke and paralyzed. Ori had a plumber friend of his look at the problem and he said that it was because it wasn't sealed good between the tiles. Umm-hmm. I wasn't born yesterday. No way that much water came from leaking through the tiles in the floor. So I'm supposed to watch it and see if it happens again. Which means that I can't put anything back in there, I can't hook up my modem and actually do work. What if I wait a week and nothing happens, then I put everything back in there and then it breaks again? It gives me a headache to think about it.

So I've been spending a lot of hours at my BFP office trying to finish projects and stuff, and going home to an apartment that smells musty and damp, has computer stuff and books and papers drying out everywhere and is generally driving me crazy. Yesterday I was pretty grateful that the week was almost over and I had completed my last freelance assignment and turned it in and could finally get some rest. Then I got home to find that my cat had decided that it would be better to throw up on my bed rather than on the easily cleanable tile floor throughout my apartment. On my favorite quilt. The one that makes me happy when I wake up snuggled under it. The one that went into my suitcase rather than muc needed extra clothes. Sigh. I stuffed it in the washer and threw the cat outside and cried some more.

Then I noticed the funky smell. Not the musty smell. No, this was a new smell. Like a dead animal. Coming from my bedroom. I couldn't find anything, but that didn't make the smell go away and it kept me up half the night. That and the image I had just seen on TV about dust mites in pillows.

This morning I woke up and decided it was time to stop feeling sorry for myself and being overwhelmed because of my circumstances. It was time to start being thankful. So I started thanking God for whatever I could think of, and what a difference it has made in my day. I hate it when I forget to be thankful. I think it is the most powerful weapon we can weild against an enemy that seeks to steal, kill and destroy.

So, does my computer story have a silver lining? Well today I saw that MacIntosh is recalling the battery in my computer because it overheats and sometimes catches fire. Maybe God was doing some preventative medicine on it. With only water damage, there's a good chance that my hard drive and files can be retrieved; with fire damage, well, that's pretty much not fixable. At least I'm going to choose to look at it that way.

I don't need to go into any more of the stuff that has happened. Why waste energy on what is not good? Worrying will not add one minute to my life. I'm "broken, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

And I'm thankful once again. God is in control and my livelihood is in His hands. That's a fact.

the most unpleasant noise in the world

I actually had a kicking fit last night somewhere around 3:00 am. For the past two nights they have been doing road construction on King George right outside my apartment building and it's mostly that horrible jack-hammer noise. Two nights ago it was going on well past 3:00 am and last night until well past 4:00. I can't tell you how obnoxious it is, and though I can sleep through the fiercest thunder storm, I cannot sleep through this. And the worst thing is that they just started up again about two hours ago. I don't think I can handle another night of it. Running on very little sleep and getting mighty grouchy....

I'm longing for those Southern summer nights right now with catydids and crickets and lightning bugs, but I can't get past the banging and clanging of concrete being ripped up and three inches of dust and sand covering everything in my apartment.

Too tired to keep writing. Even James Taylor isn't soothing me right now. Please God! I need peace in Jerusalem!!!!

Tonight, preferrably.

learning from Daniel

Daniel is just over two years old and starting to talk like crazy. I've been watching him closely lately. He and I are in the same boat, the only difference is that he is learning to talk for the first time and I am learning to talk for the second time.

Of course, I am talking about learning Hebrew for myself. I have really been trying recently--four hours yesterday and just taking a break after two and a half hours today. It's amazing what doors open up when the people here see that you are trying. The guy in the pizza place on King George has never been overly friendly to me. But the other day I asked for a Coke in a bottle, and I did it in Hebrew. A big smile spread across his face and a wall came tumbling down. I experience it at the Souk as well and it's such a good feeling.

The guys in the falafel shop are beginning to know me as I come in once a week for lunch. They see me coming and go into the back to get a bowl of cucmbers (WITHOUT tomatos) just for me. Last week when I went in, the guy pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and said "write." Then he told me the Hebrew words for "spicy" and "eggplant". We had alsready established that "no tomatos" is "lo agvaniyot" and cucumbers are "melahfefonim". And even though they know my order by heart, I hope to go in this week and tell them in their native tongue.

I want to be a blessing, and so I try to keep learning. Watching Daniel is quite a learning experience for me. He just keeps talking; there's no fear of rejection if he says the word incorrectly. He just keeps saying it until he gets it right. I pretty much think it's adorable to hear him speak. I don't know if Israelis think it's "adorable" to hear me speak their language, but I think it is attractive to them. I know that I for one am so thankful when someone tries to speak my language with me.

So I'm getting serious about it. I went to a shop and bought the biggest pads of paper that I could find so that I can make word charts and have written out the "alef-bet" (alphabet) in both print and handwriting and posted them on the walls above my desk. Then I went into a small bookshop on Zion Square to purchase a "serious" Hebrew/English dictionary with pronounciations, and my Rosetta Stone language program is getting a big-time workout from me. I really want to break down this barrier that's towering in front of me.

With God, all things are possible. Just watch a baby learn and grow if you don't believe me.