aclimatized

Being from Canada, one of the things I find most hilarious is seeing adult's reactions to their first snow. My Jamaican uncle visited Canada once in winter and could not believe that people live in such cold. He kept saying that no one would believe him if he told them that his flesh could freeze.

Tonight, I saw Pieter, Mbamie's husband and asked him what he thought of the recent snow. He was amazed to say the least. The minute fall finally started to breeze through the Fair mother city during Mbamie's first year here, she kept telling me that they were going to die because of the cold. One time, I spotted a refugee outside of Walmart by their clothing alone. And no, they weren't wearing African attire. It was a fall day- no where near freezing, but a little cool and a lady waited for the bus with her daughter in parkas, shivering and acting cold. I told Mbamie she didn't want to visit Canada in the winter.

While the adults have a hard time adjusting, kids are so moldable! Persimons- Mbamie's daughter told me tonight "I want to go with YALL!" I told Pieter "that's not really English what she is speaking, but Texan". His eyes grew big and he looked at his daughter with pride. Here he is struggling to pick up passable English and she's already into localisms (with a cute accent).

He may be getting a job soon. He has a test to pass Monday. Please ask the lover to give him the answers/ability/whatever it is they are testing.

This n that

The holidays are not all cheery, warm, lovely feelings amongst family for everyone. Meshell was really bumbed out as thanksgiving approached. Her dad had gotten out of jail a couple of weeks earlier. She had so looked forward to that day. They had written each other regularly while he was locked up and her conversations were always sprinkled with her delight about writing him or getting a letter from him. Then he came "home" to his current wife (not Meshell's mom) and has not called or visited his daughter Meshell who lives in the same small city. She had wanted to see him for thanksgiving, but he wasn't coming because he wouldn't come if his wife didn't go and she wasn't going to go. The logical reason that it would just be weird for an ex-wife and current wife to dine together does not fly. There are much bigger issues. When Meshell's grandmother died, Meshell, her mom, brothers and son moved in with her dad's current wife (while he was still locked up). Yeah, I thought that would be totally weird. Meshell and her mom, Maria outstayed their welcome from what I can gather. But they don't see it that way. In their mind, they were helping her out by having half a dozen people move in with her and them sharing their measly disability checks.

Upon returning to the Fair Mother City, I tried to call Meshell and see if she'd heard from her dad, or how her thanksgiving went and their phone is disconnected. That sucks. NO car, no phone really bites!

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Frieda and Jessie constantly have a friendship/hateship going on. It was rocky right before thanksgiving, but now they are cool with each other again. It was fun to see them throwing snowballs at each other- in their t-shirts and no gloves- just being silly and enjoying each other and the snow.
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Apparently my medicaid for the kids is not all resolved yet. I realized I have a WIC appointment next week and need the medicaid as a proof of income. I still haven't gotten the promised cards in the mail, so I went in to get temporary cards, holding my breath and whispering prayers. It paid off, because I got them without a hitch and to beat all, some medicaid lady even gave me a pest control kit while I waited to be helped. She said they were handing them out as some program. I thought that was a cool program- especially since there was no red tape. I signed my name so they could do a head count. Ah- if only all the programs were like that. It felt like it was just a nice blessing, not an ordeal to battle through.
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A friend of mine and her husband were wanting to give a cooked turkey and gifts to a family in lieu of doing their own gifts. She asked if I knew of someone who needed some help and I told her about Mbamie. It's awesome, because with her husband (Peter's) arrival, there have been a lot of extra expenses, including moving and having all the utilities transfered. He still hasn't gotten his lost luggage back and doesn't have a job since they have met major snags with delays in getting his arrival ID card. Mbamie was issued hers the minute she stepped off the plane here, but apparently more red tape was added and it can take 3 weeks, or for him, many months to get his photo ID, which will allow him to get a regular Texas ID. I called them today to make a list of things they need/want and instead of focusing on all that has gone wrong- Peter said that it has been like a big celebration with his coming. First thanksgiving and now this gift of a xmas for them.

dark night of the soul

I just finished the book about mother Teresa, Come be my light. It was both challenging and disturbing. I have been challenged to love the Lover more, to seek Him more, to give Him all of me, or to at least try. I always thought that was just an impossibility- so why really try- but I was wrong. This woman really gave of herself and loved with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. I want that. I need that.

I was also unsettled by what she called her darkness. She lamented that for 50 years she felt nothing but spiritual dryness, darkness and the absence of the presence of the lover. She saw her suffering as delighting the lover in that she was joining him in the work of the cross, in his suffering, in his being broken and given out to others. I don't like that part. The pain part. The sacrifice part, the suffering and brokeness parts. And yet all of this is in scripture- take up your cross and follow me, he told us and Paul shared how his suffering was in a way completing the work of the cross, not that Jesus' suffering was lacking, but maybe that we are joining in that redemptive work when we too die to ourselves.

The part though that I don't get is how she felt rejected by God and abandoned by him. I know this has to be balanced out, because I don't think there were moments of nearness, but nothing like what she had known before she entered ministry with the poorest of the poor. Her spiritual counselors offered that she was learning what it meant to be poor of spirit too and without God so that she could identify with the lost.

I can't explain away what she felt, but I wonder if that is how it is and what we may come up against some day. Then I also wonder how all that lies in the face of scriptures that say he is with us always and that if we come to him rivers will flow up in us and we will not thirst anymore- or that those who thirst and hunger will be filled... So many scriptures saying how he avails himself to us so that we can feast on him- and yet here was this precious woman who gave him her all and he gave her back so little of himself- or so it seemed to her. What gives?

Anyone out there experienced this dark night of the soul, or years? What is it? What does it mean?
If you read it, was this what you understood? Does it bother you?

I have been feeling like God has been calling me to get off my butt, out of my cozy bed in the mornings, no matter how long I've been up and spend time with him- before the kids are up. So I'm confessing here that I have been horribly lazy in this, but need to put Him first in at least this one small way.

in the fair mother city

In the fair mother city, this somewhat small Texan city, I am often mistaken for being Hispanic. I'm not even sure if that is the kosher name to use. Jessie calls herself Mexican, although she is far from being from Mexico- to her it's a badge of honor. Being part of a minority group is cool here among the youth- or so I take it.

To people's credit, I am of mixed lineage and do have a permanent tan- but that's about where the similarities end. I still get cracked up over Hispanic names- of course the funniest of which is "Jesus" pronounced "Hey Zeus". Check out who my cashier was one night. I laugh and want to crack jokes every time my friend calls- her caller ID is her dad's name "Jesus". I always think- "wow, Jesus is calling". I'm sure they don't think it nearly as hilarious as I do.

Like how everyone here snickers if I mention the Canadian city Regina (pronounced like vagina with an R).

Anyways- my newest funny story...

I was visiting with some Hispanic friends and mentioned that I'm going to Canada for Christmas. Lady says- "that's right, you're from Canada- that's why you have an accent- you aren't Mexican are you? I could tell- your hair is different- but Canadians don't look like you do they?"

So I explain that my mom is Jamaican. Lady's cousin asks- "So, can you speak Jamaican?"
"They speak English", I explain.
"So can you speak it?", he asks again.
!!!!!

You gotta love it! Our 90 year old neighbor can not be convinced that Canada is another country. Jessie doesn't think Mexico is another country either. I don't think she has ever been, but her brothers have, many times. However, if you ask them if they've been out of the state or country, they will tell you no. I mean Mexico is just a half dozen hours away and it flavors the Fair Mother city with people, language, food and the gentle rhythm of another place, oh so subtly and seamlessly that sometimes it's hard to tell where it starts and where it ends.

And while our city has adapted fairly well to our large Hispanic population, it balks at the otherly diverse people immigrating here. ESL classes are geared for Hispanics, as one small example. They have had to start rethinking how to reach other people too- and that's not always a bad thing.

His mysterious ways

Secret Agent B's boss from the tree and pruning service is out of town- so no work. The supplier for him and Jack of all trades is also gone- so no work. Meanwhile, unexpected pay has come our way. A friend short changed me on some money last week when I babysat for her and I didn't want to call her on it. Agent B and I agreed I should just bring it up if she called me again to babysit. She called Sunday night. Her regular sitter was back from vacation, but was throwing up and she needed me another day. So I brought up the missing money. The next day, I got paid for that day, the missing money from the week before and she gave me flowers too. Then a friend wanted me to cut her hair and insisted on paying. I think it's fun to cut hair and I'm glad she likes how I cut it. (No I'm no hairdresser, by any means, although I got to be one with the Izzy group. That was totally fun- except the time when one of our regulars came in drunk with his head half shaved in splotches- that was funny and kind of sad).

So, today, I'm at the grocery store and run into a friend from our church and Izzy days. We visited and caught up on how her kids are. Later, she finds me again and starts telling me she wants me to buy a gift for AO#2- that she missed her birthday. (She's not at all close to us, so this is just super nice of her). I notice she has her hand out a little and is trying to slip me money. She asks about our common friend Jane, who was a "client" of Izzy. She is now in a nursing home, where GrammaYA, the kids and I visit her. Former church friend, with tears in her eyes explains that she just appreciates what we do- that not everyone can do it and she's glad we do.

My heart goes out to her. She loves the CEO and I believe wanted to serve a lot more and minister to the poor, but her husband is not a believer and already resisted her even attending church services with their kids yet alone branching out to do more. She was always generous to Jane, giving her gifts and sitting with her at club meetings. Her giving to us and loving us, was her way of reaching out to and loving Jane, who she can no longer go to see.

May the CEO set her family free to serve him wholeheartedly that this lovely woman may grace the lives of all those he sets on her path, husband included.

And thanks Lover of our souls for all this unexpected provision- another reminder that you are there for us through it all and that you do work in mysterious ways.

He was there, with us

The CEO came in big time for us today. Basically Mbamie and her husband and her brother Mpastor and his wife (who recently came to the US) have been under a dark bureaucratic cloud since the spouse's arrivals. The cloud was under the hospices of government subsidized housing. There was a bunch of red tape that the newly arrived spouses were supposed to have jumped through, but immigration is taking FOREVER and both households were facing violations of their housing contracts. The manager was furious- and I mean furious. She was saying how she could loose her job, how their program was in jeopardy, how they could be fined all because these legally arrived refugees do not have all their paperwork in (through no fault of their own, but due to more bureaucratic none sense).

After venting, and seeing that the refugees have not done anything "wrong", after putting the fear of homelessness into them, the manager finally got on her phone and talked with a superior and they came up with a very doable and easy solution, so that the households could stay together. (They had been saying that they would have to evict the newcomers at least until the proper paperwork could be processed).

Mbamie and her husband did not sleep well last night. Apparently, in her housing contract, it mentions a fine of $10 000.00 and jail time for keeping people in the home who are not under the rent agreement. I scoffed at her, but she swears it's true and that people have not only been evicted, but the cops were called in to get them out for similar circumstances.

What was lunacy in this is that it's all meaningless. I understand that the manager needs to have her ducks in a row, but what they are missing is an ID so that she can run a criminal background check and a renters check on them. What they will find is obviously nothing! DUH, they just got here in the country. But she has to have her little papers saying she ran the checks or face troubles of her own.

What was beautiful in all this was how the CEO totally dismantled the bomb before us and smiled favorably on the families and kept them together, with some easy solution (a letter saying they are going to bring in the ID card when immigration gets it to them). AND how the refugees were so totally respectful and even thankful to the hard slamming manager.

They told her that she had treated them like a mother, that words could not express their thanks and may God bless her abundantly. Most Americans in their situation would have gotten angry back and given her the finger, instead, these refugees who love the King send blessing amidst their strife and even speak blessing over the system. They said they could understand how it was good to have all these rules, how in Africa no one follows rules and chaos ensues.

Thank you CEO for bringing right order- your favorable order and favor on us today.

Thank you, thank you Lover

We got to go see princess this weekend and she is indeed a princess of the most royal of families. She is so different already. Even Agent B noticed that she is much more open, lively and happy. She didn't spend the entire visit griping about others or focusing on other's issues. She shared about some deep parts of her life and even admitted that it's hard for her to share, that she's bottled everything up all her life and is only now learning what it means to open up.

She is working on her GED while locked up and apparently has completed her biology and is now working on her history- which is amazing! She wants to keep working on it when she is "in the free" as she calls it.

Her release date is Jan.23rd if she completes her phases, which she is not doing very well on. She is still struggling to write her life story to share with her group. But she thinks they'll still send her home since her time will be up. I have no idea how it works, but the year is zipping by and it's hard for me to imagine that she will be out and an active part in our lives again after 2 years.

She has a lot of maturing to do- but she's 16. I had (and have) a lot of maturing to do too. She also seen and been through more in her life than anyone should have to face. And while she has a hard road to take, it seems a little brighter and a lot more positive with the Lover clearing her a path.

Tiers or Tears?

Apparently we've been put on a new system called TIERS that everyone with medicaid will eventually be in. We spent another 2 hours in phone trees and on hold music. At one point a lady asked AGAIN if she could put me on hold and I told her please NO, that I had already been on hold for 1.5 hours and an hour the day before and I'd had enough of it. To her credit, she sounded understanding and e-mailed some guy she said was working on our case.

The guy called right away, which surprised me. Then he said that his job was to help people having difficulties with their cases. He acted like he was the super liaison and not the problem in the first place. I hope that was what he was, because I like to think nicely of people. To his credit, he didn't put me on hold, but actually conversed with me while his computer slowed to a stand still. He talked sincerely and we ended up discussing Canada, living there (he had worked there), Green cards, the cases he'd worked on with medicaid issues that day (where people were at the doctor with sick kids when they found out their medicaid was having probs.)

I'm not too sure about this new system. I have the sneaking suspicion that they are going to do away with the office here in Abilene and switch everyone to the computerized mega phone system. You can tell that all the workers on the phone were trained like other companies, giving their name and worker number, asking numerous times if they could assist me in anything else and trying to act like they were going above and beyond. I think the hours I spent on the line was actually due to the fact that their system is slower than molasses. It took them 2.5 hours and numerous people to figure out our paperwork just hasn't been looked over yet (since Aug. 21st). Several times, they had trouble locating our file in their system and the last guy to help us said everything was backed up in the scanning department. I guess if they are trying to scan all documents into a computer system for the ENTIRE state it would take a lot of time and make it all run slow. So that was our problem and now it's fixed and the final guy even gave me his name and direct line!!! No more phone tree for me.

But what about Mbamie or Meshell? How will someone hearing impaired deal with all that none sense? Or someone with language difficulties? I was trying to be nice even though my temper was boiling over because my biggest fear was that they would hang up and I'd have to start all over again. I guess everything new must be given time, but it's a little disarming that everything will now be done through such an impersonal system. On the other hand, helps service workers can often be total uncaring grumps. I hope in the long run this will be a greater help to those in need- but I'm leary of it. It seems there is less and less personal contact. No smiles, no ones eyes to look into, no more touch- just a bigger system to cattle everyone through.

can I have a flippin' phone number?

Someone told us that maybe what we are going through is in a way getting our Phd in understanding people in poverty. This is by far the worst degree I've ever done. I've done a lot of school. Some people even think I'm kind of smart- have good people skills- can figure a lot of things out. But the hoops people in poverty have to go through are impossible I tell you- IMPOSSIBLE.

Our kids get Medicaid right now, which is a total blessing 'cause we don't have money. Medicaid can be awesome. They pay for everything- no worries- that is if you can get in and stay in. They make you renew every 6 months or so. But I'd figured we'd passed that unit- I mean we've probably filled out the same form at least a dozen times (I've helped the refugees fill them out too). We got a renewal form in Aug. So we filled it out and sent it in, as always- promptly (they give you 10 days to fill it in from the date they sent it- or something real regimented like that- you know another hoop for people with crazy lives and few resources to jump through). But for Secret Agent B and I, it's kind of a no brainer- we've got a copier/scanner computer even that we can zip our pay stubs through and we sent it off.

Then I got a letter in the mail, that made no sense. It didn't explain much of anything except it had my kids names, medicaid and denied on it along with other none sense, so being the smart person I am, I figured I should probably check into this unidentifiable paper. First problem- the phone number is some 2-1-1 number. I've been babysitting during office hours, so I have to make this call while watching 3 children under the age of 4 and after navigating their phone tree it tells me I have a wait no longer than 18 minutes (it was longer), but I eventually find a nice lady who looks up my info. and calmly tells me that my kids are no longer on medicaid- that they got our paperwork Aug. 21st, but it was never processed because their medicaid wasn't going to run out until the end of Oct. and now it's Nov.1st, so we automatically got a letter saying we are denied. (???) She didn't seem at all ruffled by this and said she'd transfer me to our local office, so that they could process our paperwork (RECEIVED AUG 21st). There was no nice recording saying how long the wait was- I think it was infinity. I hung up and decided to just make the call myself.

This is where I got really screwed up. While I know where their office is physically, I had 3 kids and no way to go there during office hours, so my only option was to call. I spent the next 30 minutes trying to find Medicaid's phone number. I am not joking. It's not on the kid's medicaid card, or in the phone book under governement like some phone tree told me. It's not under Taylor county, or Texas, or medicaid or Texas Human Resources and Services, not in the white pages or yellow pages. I finally went online and found a wrong number that at least told me to hang up and call *** (the right number).

There I reached Miss PMS herself. Apparently I am in a special system that only certain people in the office can look up and those people don't actually exist in person- they are just a name with voice mail that is never returned. So I call up Miss PMS again after leaving a message I'm not sure will ever be checked, to kindly ask if she can tell me the name of my case worker. She swears on a stack of Bibles that she can't look up anything, ANYTHING on my file.

So why do they have her answering the phones?- I wonder. And am I so dangerous that they have to put me under lock and key so that only some person with special credentials can locate my unprocessed file.

The good news is that my kids are extremely healthy, AO#1 is just getting over a double ear infection, so he's not due for another one in hopefully forever, they just got their yearly check-ups and aren't due for another year. Maybe by that time, we'll have this medicaid stuff figured out or perhaps the CEO will send provision for this and PLEASE graduate us out of this IMPOSSIBLE program. We get the message- being poor sucks- SUCKS! They have to be infinitely smarter than I have ever been.

They should make a new survivor show- survive as a homeless person, or a person with no car, phone, resources, or someone who has to be subject to the maniacal systems offered to people in poverty. The reward: homes, cars, phones, jobs, resources, for the best 100 friends they made on the streets and in poverty.
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While I was in the horrid system of repeating mundane music, that was not nearly varied enough for an hour long call, I checked prices for flights to Canada for Christmas. (My family is flying us up). They had skyrocketed and none of the flight itineraries were even doable (12 hour layovers in Minneapolis for example). I was really distraught over it and kept begging the Lover for a solution through this. I was fighting with what I was seeing online and what I was knowing as experience in this faith walk of ours, that He always sees us through in all that we need.

I didn't even want to tell anyone of blog about it. I needed peace so bad. Then a friend offered us a vehicle to drive up if we needed to. Then I called my mom and she was at peace and said not to fret and just wait it out until after Thanksgiving and we'd figure something out (this from the one who called each week to see if I'd looked into flights). As I'm on the phone with mom, Agent B goes online and the prices are back to what they were, the flights were reasonable again, even favorable and His peace has returned to my head and heart.

Thank you Lover, for more than anything else, more than a program, or a flight, or a schedule or even food to eat, all we need is You and Your peace.
-signing out.