Crying at the Dentist (again).

Well hello there long lost friends! As it turns out, I am (not surprisingly) terrible at blogging. Phnom Penh has been home for nearly 3 months and y’all have gotten one lousy post. Apologies (I have a feeling apologizing will become very familiar).

Did you guys all have a great Thanksgiving and Christmas and New Year’s? I’m currently (and have been) living vicariously through everyone’s Facebook and Instagram feeds. Mostly for food posts.

 Since you, faithful readers, know my complete disdain for all things dental, you will probably enjoy this story.

So, I was having some sensitivity issues when I drank cold things, so I went to the dentist (shout out to Dr. Chenda!) to make sure I didn’t have a hole in my tooth and you know, to make sure it wasn’t falling out or anything. Turns out, it was much, much worse. Apparently my avoidance in extracting my wisdom teeth over the years, proved to be a terrible choice and the devilish teeth were destroying my jaw. “They must come out!” Dr. Chenda told me.

A few weeks went by before the surgery, so, naturally, I talked about it to everyone seeking any advice possible and probably annoying everyone in my immediate circle over here (probably in the states as well). One friend told me to be prepared because I will be awake and hear the drill echo from the tooth they will be drilling out, all the way up into my ear canal. Wonderful. Not only did I have to go to the dentist (my last cleaning in the states I brought a friend, and I cried) but I had to get my wisdom teeth out. In Cambodia.  With only local anesthetic.  (sidebar: if you know my father, you should ask him about our dental adventures when I was in 8^th grade. He will to this day refer to it as “going to hell and back.” So there’s that).

As I arrived and sat in the chair, which would be my home for the next 3 hours, I started freaking out. The sweet assistants and surgeon assured me it wouldn’t be bad. Pretty sure my thought process was something like “Whatever, what do you know?” As soon as they started wiggling my top tooth I burst into tears. “Sister, does it hurt, is that why you are crying?” “No, I’m just scared,” I said back. Really, I was thinking that this was actually my nightmare coming true, and I was having to pay to be awake for it.

The first tooth came out in 5 minutes, the next one took 2.5 hours. The gross roots of the tooth were so curved that I had two surgeons working on it. It was not a gentle experience.  Apparently, they worked through their lunch to rip the nasty tooth that was clawing onto me for dear life out of my jaw. Time ran out to yank out the other two, so I will be back there in another 2 weeks. They did tell me right before I left, however, that the other side is actually worse. So... something to look forward to!

In addition to my teeth, I can feel other things being ripped out of me that do me absolutely no good. Things that corrupt. Seriously guys, like lots of stuff. Why do we hang onto things that are bad for us? What exactly is the allure?

There have been times in my life where I was grasping onto terrible, terrible things (ideas, behaviours), knowing full well that they were in fact terrible for me. 

I suppose that everyone is different, but I tend to be extra fearful of the unknown and would rather hold onto what I do know, even if it is bad for me. There is some twisted comfort locked in there.

But what if there was assurance in knowing that the end result in prying nasty stuff out of our hearts was actually the road to our actual selves? How we were intended to be in the first place?

Ephesians 5:13-14 But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says, "Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you."

My comfort would prefer me to be numb and avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become.- Brooke Fraser

Our journey will never be perfect. We will stop and see something that looks pretty, but realize it is actually poisonous. But, take heart. It is those mistakes, wrong turns, and faulty thinking that actually draw us deeper. 

So yes, I should have taken my stupid teeth out years ago. And yes, the avoidance was met with some unpleasant circumstances. Yes there were things in my life that I shouldn't have done, and those were also met with unpleasant circumstances. The cool thing, though, is in some brilliant, backwards-thinking, creative, twist in logic way, there is freedom in failure.  It makes absolutely no sense until you experience it.

2 Corinthians 12:9 “My Grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

If I know the way home and am walking along it drunkenly, is it any less the right way because I am staggering from side to side? – Leo Tolstoy

 (I am a disaster without Jesus)

A few of my (mis)adventures

Below you will find an actual conversation between my mother and I before I left for Cambodia. 

Mom: I only have like 150 followers on my blog.

Me: I have seven, and one of them is me.

The point of that embarrassing story is that, first of all, my blog is in fact lame (told ya so) and everyone who has been wondering if I actually made it to Cambodia already know that I have, which renders this post useless. With that said, I am not sure what the point of this post will be, however, I will truck through. :)

I got to Cambodia a week ago. Goodness gracious, this has been what feels like the longest week of my life. Getting off the plane in Phnom Penh was one of the most familiar feelings I have ever had. However, as soon as my passport was handed back to me, after receiving my visa, I got a really awesome bloody nose, that was not so familiar. 

There have been a few moments where I have thought "what the hell have I done." Most of the time those thoughts come when I realize that all of my social skills have apparently abandoned me and the things that come out of my mouth are super lame, or don't make sense. So there's that. The people here that will choose to be my friend, will for sure be lasting if they can make it past my awkward phase.

It would be a totally fair assessment to say that I overpacked. One thing I overpacked on.... Bibles. "what? You can never have too many Bibles," you say. Well, I brought 7. My justification? they are all different versions. How many will I actually use? Like 3. Tops. I also definitely brought too many shoes.      So yeah.  

Honest moment: I have no idea where this post is going. Like, at all. 

In the midst of the loneliness and the awkwardness and all the other things that are are not necessarily the most fun emotions to deal with, God is good. Meeting me right where I am at and giving me bits of encouragement along the way. I don't know what I would do without Jesus. Hopeless for sure, paralyzed at best. 

If you don't know Jesus yet, I highly encourage you to do a little investigating. He is worth it. More than you could ever know. I know it can be a little hard to believe that He raised from the dead, or even is a real person. Come out here for a week and see all that has been restored and made new. I don't think that you would be able to believe these transformations could happen any other way. 

sending love to you,

-j

Farewell, sweet Arizona!

Well, friends, family, and stalkers, these are my last few days in Phoenix. Monday I leave for the great state of California to spend about 4 days with my family. This will definitely be my last blog before taking off. Next you’ll hear from me will be when I am on Cambodian soil!

Other than being completely annoyed at the government shutdown for not letting me see the Grand Canyon before I left (yes, I have lived in AZ for a decade and still have never been there), I have come to grips with leaving. Mostly. I am also still grieving the reality that I will probably never summit Camelback Mountain (2 for 2 in not making it to the top!). It isn’t even a real mountain. It’s like a large hill, and I still can’t finish.

The part of my soul that died a little with the loss of the above goals was resurrected by my sweet friends and how they love.  I thought about writing all about everything that has transpired in the 2.5 months since realizing I was actually, for real, without a doubt, moving to Cambodia (because some stories are incredible), but I decided against it.

I will leave you with some words of wisdom (obviously not mine) that have been echoing in my head since the pastor at church spoke them last week.

We belong to each other.

Galatians 6:2

Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

The worst mover, ever.

This whole international moving thing is really kicking my butt. I just don’t have time for it. Seriously. I can’t remember the last time that I brushed my hair. The other day, I had to take apart a dreadlock that was forming underneath all the layers of my very naughty mane.

The more I get rid of and the more I pack, my room seems to get messier, I cannot even understand how this is logically possible, but alas, it is.

I have lost the will to follow dress code at work, and I cry at anyone’s thoughtfulness. Last night after small group, one of my dearest friends, Sarah, called just to tell me that she loved me and wanted to know how she could help. This turned into a MAJOR sob fest (on both parts, but mostly mine). I am pretty sure that opened the flood gates of emotion, so I kindly ask that no one be nice to be in the weeks preceding my departure. If you are nice, most likely you will get tears, many hugs, and your shirt might be used as a snot rag. You’ve been warned.

Because of my deep rooted talent (?) of procrastination (and my current “hot mess” status), I have decided to avoid that which I should be doing and write a how-to for people who are saying ‘bye-for-now’ to loved ones moving far away.  You’re welcome in advance.

*There will be times when we can’t remember anything. Please pretend you don’t notice. Just a few weeks ago, I planned to have coffee with 2 different people. At the same time. And the same location. AND, they didn’t know each other (so I couldn’t pass it off like it was a group thing). Oopsie.

*Emotional breakdowns are inevitable, and most likely, not short. I have no advice for this one. Just expect it. Maybe carry a small package of tissues for all the tears and such because we will definitely not remember to carry one with us. Be prepared to give lots of hugs and have no decent pictures together before we leave due to excessive blotchy faces because of the ugly cry.

*Our living spaces will be horrifying. It will be an obstacle course of clothes, books, random sharp objects, and pretty much every household item. Use this as training for something really cool like Tough Mudder or the Warrior Dash. It will be pretty much the same, especially when stepping barefoot on a plugged-in curling iron. If you can handle that, you can definitely handle the 10,000 volt electrocution at the end of Tough Mudder. (You can thank us later).

*We will look consistently frazzled.  While we sincerely appreciate the offers of help and questions asking what still needs to be done, the truth is, WE HAVE NO IDEA. There is so much to do that we cannot actually remember. It may be more helpful to sit us down and have us make a list, otherwise, the attitude (at least mine) is ‘screw-it.’

*You may have to reach out to us to schedule time together. Either due to extreme busyness or an acute case of exhaustion, we may be hesitant to initiate hang out time. Also, our minds are in two places, which is a strange mental exercise. We will be using parts of our brain that have been sleeping since high school (maybe earlier).

*Speaking of our brains, they are pretty much on the verge of shutting down. The task of constructing complete sentences becomes exhausting and you will be lucky if we can still recite the alphabet or correctly identify our primary colors.

***on a more serious note***

*Our brains don’t reflect our hearts. We love you, but we may not be showing how deeply we care in the midst of this transition. It isn’t because we don’t want to, but because we are severely distracted. Sometimes, though, it does seem too hard to say goodbye, and we do avoid it. There will be questions swirling around our minds asking us if it really is worth it to leave. The thought of leaving each of you breaks our hearts and emotionally we don’t know how to deal. Please forgive us for shutting you out at times, or distancing ourselves, the unreturned phone calls, or any other behavior that is hurtful. It isn’t our intention. We just don’t know how to navigate these new waters. Thank you for your patience and bearing with us. Even though we can’t (or don’t) express it, it means more to us than you know.  Please keep us in your prayers and keep us accountable to time with each other and with Jesus. It is a struggle to even do one of anything well at this point. We need you, and are just doing a very poor job of showing it.

 

I think the moral of this post is we need community and Jesus and are having a horrible time balancing what needs to be done and continually pursuing relationships. Please forgive us! Thank you, friends and family, for being so awesome and so supportive, and faithful. I mean, we are already a train wreck, imagine where we would be without you! Or maybe don’t walk down that road; it seems to be a little frightening.

(fyi: ‘we’ refers to the community of ‘movers.’ I am not referring to myself in multiples; although, I may not be far off from that…)

Anything that you would add? Or anything that isn’t accurate?

An (unexpected) Ode to Phoenix- with photos!

The other day, well, like 2 months ago, I was in my room with one of my younglife girls/good friend. I was just starting to clean out my room and throw away a bunch of crap that I didn’t need. Like at all. So here I am tossing things at her saying stuff like “hey, want this scarf? It is warm and pretty and free and homemade.” I think that scarf was the only thing she wanted, but whatever. Anyway, she is sitting on the floor, eating french fries with a massive amount of ketchup when she looks around and says “Hey, what’s it like not to really own anything?”

Um. 

She then gives me a sarcastic laugh.

So, fast forward to last week.  I was exhausted. To the point where I wasn’t answering anyone’s phone calls. I wasn’t physically tired, but emotionally, I was spent. Unless I took time to recharge, this crabby little mover wouldn’t be moving anywhere. Except maybe to the couch. 

So, in the midst of my *minor* recluse- like behavior, I decided to take a drive around the perimeter of the city. I started thinking about the things that are costly for me to leave. While I don’t tend to get emotionally invested in tangible objects (mostly because I misplace EVERYTHING), I get very attached to people and memories.  Like the time my Bible study group (fyi, we are called the BB- Bible Bitches- it is a term of endearment, nothing bad, so hopefully no one is offended) decided to do study at our favourite local restaurant over 2 pitchers of sangria and pizza. That night was the night that prevented me from moving to LA (I was planning on moving to LA just 4 months later).

Or the times going to the casino to play midnight bingo only to never win and be assaulted by the second hand smoke in the enclosed room. We would dare each other to do stupid stuff in the confines of the midnight bingo room. “Hey Mike, start dancing in the aisles!” “Hey Janay, go bum a cigarette off someone!” (As a girl that is particularly concerned about lung-health, it was odd asking someone for a cigarette with no intention of smoking it, especially when it was the last one they had. Apparently this is a big deal. Oopsie!).

YoungLife camps. YoungLife clubs. I am going to miss making memories doing the weirdest things on Monday nights. (One time, on a date with this guy, I was asked how YoungLife went the night before, and I replied with “Well, I stuck a dead frozen fish down my shirt.” He never called again).

The times I realized that my friends are the best in the world. Literally holding me when my world was crashing. Not leaving me alone when the storm hit. Laughter. Lake days. Ohso. Backyard ‘America’ parties.  The worst YL camp experience ever (I really love telling this story, so feel free to ask). Big bed. LGO dates after small group. Putting together crappy Ikea furniture.  Sneaking into hotel pools, LIKE A BOSS. Weddings. Shooting guns. 4 Peaks. Thai food and documentaries. Staycations. Binge watching TV shows with roommates. Adventures. Many many adventures.

I guess, what I am trying to say is, even though I whole-heartedly believe you, Phoenix, are my own personal purgatory, you aren’t that bad. In fact, you have produced some of the best people I have ever known. For sure given me the best friends I have ever had. So, Phoenix, even though your plant life is alarmingly aggressive, and your insects make me gag, and all the bodies of water are man-made, you have been good to me.

Thank you for the good times. And the bad. Thank you for your outrageous sunsets every night. Thank you for being close enough to the beach and mountains. Thank you for letting good people into your borders that have loved me so well over the years.  Thank you for releasing me with fond memories that completely eclipse the bad ones.

Thank you, Jesus, for not letting me leave until I saw Phoenix as home.

Phoenix, we still have 3 more weeks. You better not screw it up.

 

Cue photos:

 

 

 

 

*more photos to come since I finally figured out how to add them!*

 

Wait...why are you going?

Well, 7 weeks folks.

*side note, this blog needs more pictures*
 

To be honest I am super concerned about two things before I leave. The first, again, is going to the dentist. Turns out, I can’t go see my friend, so I HAVE TO GO TO A STRANGER. Ugh.

Second is the state of my room. It really is pretty obscene. But at the same time, I just don’t care. Maybe I’ve given up. In fact, the way my room is right now is probably the poster picture for giving up in general. I found packing tape (with the razor edge to tear off) IN BED with me last night, in addition to a ghungroo, and many other gems I have been searching for.

Now onto more- er- meaningful (?) things…

At 3 or 4 years old, my answer to the question “What do you want to be when you grow up?” would always be ‘a missionary!’

Haha. What a weird ambition for a little kid. Nevertheless, it has always been on my heart, and I’m pretty sure I was the last one to know it was actually going to become a reality someday.

I hadn’t seen what poverty looked like until I was 18. YoungLife at ASU had organized a trip to Tijuana to build a house for a family in need over a weekend. I was changed on that trip.

There were a few more mission trips that I went on including one to Argentina, where I was so desperate to “be changed” that it didn’t actually end up happening, probably because I was more concerned about me than the people I was going there to serve.

Uganda was next. It wasn't really a mission trip, since it was just me.  I went to visit a friend who worked with street kids out there, and got to sleep in the slums for 2 weeks, which, to me, was really neat. I loved those kids, loved Uganda, and even loved sleeping in the slums. I learned so much about how to do missions well.  You hear everyone talk about Africa and “getting the bug.” As much as I loved Uganda, the time spent there, and all the beautiful people I met, I didn’t acquire said bug.

Then came Cambodia. There aren’t adequate words to describe the feeling of stepping off the plane for the first time. It didn’t feel foreign, even though it absolutely was. Everything was familiar, like I had come home. Interacting with the Khmer people (Khmer is how Cambodian people identify themselves) was a constant joy, and still brings a smile to my face.

 We went to the various organizations who sacrifice over and over again for those who have been rescued. I was knocked off my feet by the people I met. Charmed by stories I had heard, and the careful way they care for these girls hearts. After several days, we got to meet some of the girls. What an honor. Restoration and redemption beyond belief.

Yes, sex trafficking is one of the most evil, and darkest things (I can’t think of a better word than things) in the world. An ‘industry’ that brings in an estimated 36.1 billion a year. Violence, abuse, and degradation beyond belief.

Oddly enough, that isn’t what wedged its way in my heart and got under my skin.  So what did? Resilience, light, grace, LIFE. More darkness than I can ever imagine, but the light is so bright, it’s arresting.

So, I have been twice to Cambodia-land and both times I was offered jobs. Both times I declined, much to my friend, Heather’s dismay. And my sister’s. And my other friend’s. Apparently, everyone was in on the secret that I was too stubborn to listen to due to my own selfishness.

There were things I wasn’t willing to give up. For 3 years I resisted. Finally, after my stubbornness blew up in my face, by the Grace of God, my heart softened and I am off, doing what I was created to do.

I.Cannot. Wait.

I have little to give, but what I do have, I pray it is used.

 

Any of you have experiences where you felt at home even though it was a brand new thing/idea/place?

Ummm... hi.

Umm… hi.

As Jamie Wright (theveryworstmissionary.com) said “Feel free to ignore this.”

This is going to be a pretty uncomfortable post for me. Probably because I have already written one like this and feel like I need to do it again.

First of all, everything up to this point (other than the waiting period) has been totally in my comfort zone.  Filling out applications… easy. Interviews…not too bad. Getting people to write really nice things about me to send into the organizations….ok, that was kinda uncomfortable. But this is difficult for me. I don’t like asking for help, we should probably just add that to the list of things I do terribly.

It is an inevitably awkward conversation. “Hi, I know we only met once, but would you consider donating to me?” Honestly, I kinda feel like I have no business asking people.

I have received some donations (y’all know who you are and there is something that will be in the mail for you shortly) and every time one comes in, I cry. It OVERWHLEMS me. Partly because I feel like the most unqualified person in the world to be doing this, but mostly because the Church has become tangible to me. I don’t feel like I am going over there alone. I feel very much supported and cared for and loved, like you guys are my teammates. Cheesy, I know, but it’s how I feel.

You guys are showing me more about what the Church is and who Jesus is. And it BLOWS me away. Seriously.

 

With that said, I still need help. There are still more funds to raise and I can’t do it without you. If you would please pray about supporting me, I would so appreciate. ANYTHING helps. I know that small gifts are often big sacrifices, and I appreciate every single donation.

If you want, please email me and we can set up a time to talk if you would like to know more about what I am doing out there.

There is also a link above that says “Donate here” that you can click on.

You guys are so great. Thank you, heaps!

-janay

Janay.jarvis@gmail.com