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To My Friends

It’s about life.

You see the pain of your past; the not understanding of why you were raised the way you were, the feelings that struggled inside of you then, the wondering why your parents were strict, or not strict, why they liked what they did, why they didn’t like what you did.

Maybe you didn’t understand how they were raised, what their upbringing was like, what made them into the person they were, the person who was at that moment raising you into who you would become.

And because of experiences when you were young, because of misunderstandings between you and your parents, because of the differences in the cultural climate from when your parents were raised and when you were, because the way you think and the way they think collide…you are hurting, you are wrestling, you are still struggling with ideologies, thoughts, feelings, emotions, bitterness over your past.

You want to express what you are feeling, but it only comes out as anger.

Pure, solid anger.

And a total rebellion against the way and thoughts and ideas of your childhood and teenage years.

You think you’re smart. People tell you you are.

You have anxiety. No one has to tell you that.

You know it deep down inside, and that comes out too; in fear, again in anger against what you perceive as close-mindedness, in perhaps self-abusing statements and behaviors. You can’t get away from it. You try; but mostly the trying is just coping with what you really don’t know how to cope with. Maybe too much alcohol, perhaps drugs, sexual encounters, divorce; literally, figuratively, spiritually.

Divorce from your spouse, emotionally divorcing your parents even though you see them regularly, divorcing God and all spiritual beliefs that you experienced and were taught growing up.

You wonder what has meaning. Does anything? You look at yourself in the mirror and wonder what is this all about anyway? It’s empty, void, dark, like the hollowness you sometimes feel inside of you. Again you cope, you push furthur in to the false virtual relationships you surround yourself with, the books and stories you read and write, the characters who are more real to you then the people you meet on a daily basis. The characters in books reveal that all is just a story, life is a story, a story that has no meaning, but just is lived, maybe halfway, and then is gone.

You may not believe in hell. You may not believe in heaven. You may not believe in God, and that maybe the story of Jesus wasn’t real, that he was just another character in one of your novels. Pretty stories they may be, but ultimately those particular stories don’t make any real sense to you or alter your life in any significant way. Who was Jesus anyway? A character in a story that may or may not be true.

All this pain, this anger, this bitterness, this anxiety, this self-abusing that is in a big, black ball inside you; you can’t get away from it. The hollowness you feel distills down into this big, black, familiar ball. You can’t let it go. It is too much, too solid, too real, too heavy, too…there.

It is just there.

And maybe you want it to be there. Because if it wasn’t there, you wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve lived with it too long that anything else seems like a mirage, a dream, an unrealistic utopia. Living without this big, black heavy ball seems impossible.

You’ve heard the words of Jesus. Maybe not recently, but you did, once upon a time, long, long ago in a land far, far away from your present circumstances. You heard them. You did. But you walked away. You didn’t realize the words of Christ were for you.

‘Come to Me all you who are weary and heavy laden…’

‘Come to Me all who are weary…’

‘Come. Come to Me…’

When you heard them you hadn’t lived yet through what you have now lived through. When you heard them you weren’t weary or weighed down with anything. Life was fresh, new. There were no deep questions. You took life as it was, and it was good. You heard the words of the Lord, ‘Come to Me…’, but you brushed them aside.

And now, you’re you. Now you’re weary, heavy, exhausted, tired. Wondering over the events that brought you to where you are now. You hear the invitation of Christ, ‘Come…’, and still you walk away.

‘You are not willing to come to me that you may have life…’

Jesus isn’t calling you so you can become like your parents. Jesus isn’t asking you to come to Him so you can be a cookie cutter Christian. Jesus isn’t extending an invitation to come to Him just so you can be saved from the hell you don’t believe in.

Jesus sees that big, black heavy ball of anxiety, frustration, unshed tears, anger, outrage, jealousy, resentment, bitterness, hate, unanswered questions, pain, unresolved issues, fear…and…He wants to take it.

He wants you to come to Him so He can free you. He is the only one, the only one in the history of the human race that He made, who can give you the freedom that you think you can’t have.

He wants to give you life.

Here.

Now.

Freedom and lightness of your heart, mind, soul, body, spirit. He wants to take your heaviness and replace it with His own life inside of you.

He gives life, so you can live without the anxiousness you feel, the fear you try to hide, the anger you can’t help.

Jesus offers life.

Life is about living in this world, here and now, with meaning, passion and purposeness.

Life is about living in this world, here and now, with meaningful, healthy relationships, enjoying the world God created, living each day with knowing you are loved and that life, indeed, has meaning.

Life is about living in this world, here and now, walking with God each and every day. It’s about having true communion and fellowship with the one true God.

No more big, black ball, all bundled up inside you, making you want to scream and lash out at everyone.

No, my friends. Jesus takes it.

And He gives you life.

Ice Cream (In Order of Maturity)

Birthday Cake – Immature…extremely immature

Chocolate Chip – Yep, it’s a kid ice cream all the way

Rainbow Sherbert – Eh, kid flavor

Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough – I wouldn’t say totally immature flavor, but it leans towards immaturity. This is one of my husband’s favorite, so what’s that saying about him?

Cookies ‘n Cream – Kid flavor, but it’s fun to be a kid sometime

Neopoliltan – Borderline mature/immature (It was never my go to)

Sea Salt Carmel – Borderline mature. I love it. So what’s that saying about me??

Moosetracks/BunnyTracks….or also known as….GuineaPigPellets – Depending on how you market it, it could be mature (or not…)

Mint Chocolate Chip – It’s a toss up

Vanilla Bean – Another toss up (It can be considered Not Really Mature, but I think it can be because it’s so plain that you have to be an adult in order to enjoy a simple flavor. I mean, how many kids do you know who like ‘just vanilla’??)

Chocolate – See Vanilla Bean

Rocky Road – Definitely an adult (Although it’s always been a favorite of mine and I know kids who like it too)

Butter Pecan – Mature

Pistachio – Extremely Mature (Like, the very most mature ever)

😉

Where are you on the Ice Cream Maturity Scale?

Celebrating

When was the last time you celebrated something?

Like really, truly celebrated something or someone?

My sister had a birthday party last night for her oldest child, my niece Amelia.

Now Amelia is a sweet girl, shy and doesn’t exactly like to be the life of the party. And that’s ok. I get it. I’m with her. I don’t like to be the center of attention either.

But she wanted a flamingo-themed party for her birthday, so she got one.

It was all decorated out in flamingo style, with flamingo napkins, cups, straws, tablecloth, Happy Birthday banner, pink plasticware, and color-coordinating balloons.

It was super cute!

She wanted a make-your-own salad bar and pasta and then chocolate cupcakes with pink and brown frosting with sprinkles and ice cream for dessert. We even had strawberry lemonade.

Amelia had a new, light pink dress on with a sparkly top and a tutu netting for the skirt. She wanted a new dress especially for the party and my sister obliged.

People…this undid me…

When was the last time I bought myself a new (Or in this case, a new-to-me) dress for my birthday party????

I don’t know if I ever have.

When was the last time I celebrated something??

When was the last time I celebrated…myself?

I could be wrong, but I don’t recall my mother ever buying me a new dress specifically for a party.

Maybe I never asked.

I do recall my mom buying me new shoes (Well, my grandma paid for them) because I was going to go to school with my cousin for a few days and mom and grandma wanted me to have new shoes. And I hated them. They pinched and hurt and I thought they were ugly and I didn’t wear them long. But that, if I recall correctly, was their desire and not mine.

When was the last time I celebrated my femininity???

Was my femininity celebrated when I was a child? Growing up?

I don’t know…

I remember desperately wanting a child’s make up kit when I was about seven or eight…looking longingly at it in the catalog, asking my mom for it and got a firm and resounding, No, Definitely Not.

‘Beauty is on the inside, not the outside’, was the loud and clear mesage I got when I was growing up.

When was the last time I bought myself a new dress for a birthday party?

When was the last time I celebrated myself?

When was the last time you celebrated yourself?

Not Wasted

‘You write for free and it should feel like a waste, except that it doesn’t and you don’t have an answer for it…it should be silly, except somehow to you, it isn’t.’ – Emily P. Freeman, ‘A Million Little Ways’ (Emphasis added)

‘You write for free…’

‘And it should feel like a waste…’

‘Except that it doesn’t...’

I sit here, on a Wednesday evening, writing. To you. For free. And that feels right. It’s not a waste. It doesn’t feel like a waste. At least not to me.

Yesterday was my last day at my volunteer job. Fourteen years of being there on a weekly basis. Days and days and days and days I could have been working for pay…’it should feel like a waste…except…it… doesn’t…’

Not one day that I volunteered at Oasis felt like a waste. It was all purposeful, intentional, a joy, a privilge to be doing what I did. It was a place I belonged. A community I was a part of. A place that did feel, on many occasions, an oasis to my soul and spirit. The people, the fun, the work, the stressful moments, the being with other believers with a focus, a focus to help refugees who were fleeing from war-torn countries. Welcoming them. Giving them resources, clothes, English classes, citizenship classes, drivers ed, helping them find jobs, giving them gifts at Christmas, sharing Jesus with them…sharing Jesus with them…

I started volunteering at Oasis just a few months after my first niece was born. A new year had just arrived and I had recently moved out of my grandparent’s house into what was my first real apartment. Life seemed fresh and new. I didn’t know how long I would be there, maybe six months? The foreseeable future anyway. I was young and open to what God wanted in my life, open to where He wanted me to go. I just thought that going somewhere meant, going…like, out of the country, and yet there was no way I could have known that my heart to serve meant going to Oasis every week, less than ten minutes drive from where I lived. The six months that I saw ahead of me turned into the fourteen years that are now behind me.

This is a testament of God’s faithfulness in my life. Truly, His faithfulness. Through the six or seven jobs I’ve had since being in St. Louis, through the passing of my grandparents, my cousin, my dad, through the birth of my nieces and nephews, through meeting, dating and marrying Adam, through several mission trips, vacations, through a forty day fast, through switching churches, through two apartments and now a house…being at Oasis has been a constant. It has been a huge part of the fabric of my existence; woven into my life experience.

This past Tuesday when I walked in for my last day the administrator at Oasis said, ‘She’s in! Quick, lock the door so she can’t escape!’ He was, of course, joking, and the day was normal enough that morning — collecting empty hangers, sorting clothes, organizing, refugees coming for clothes, enjoying working with the other volunteers.

The kindness of God was evident in the fact that we didn’t have a whole lot of donations to go through, so I was able to do some organizing and tidying up, which made me feel like I could have peace of mind in leaving. That I wasn’t leaving Joanie, my clothing room cohort, with a mess on her hands the next week.

I was a little nervous for the lunch hour…was it going to be normal as well? Turns out, no. The staff had gotten together a Mexican fiesta farewell lunch for me, so the staff and volunteers all ate together and I was surprised to find that my husband Adam came as well! They made my last day there so special; the luncheon, the many different flavors of ice cream for dessert, balloons, a card and a gift, flowers, hugs and blessings. Joanie gave me a little gift too and a card.

This all may seem normal for a farwell, but this is one of the things I loved about Oasis — they celebrate. I’ve always, always, always felt appreciated there. Always felt like I was in my niche, belonged, loved. Loved with the love of Jesus. Where I was supposed to be. Always felt like it was worth my time being there. Not wasted.

So why…why am I leaving?

It’s time. I can’t tell you why except that it’s time. It just is.

It’s hard, but I know it’s right. I have to come back to that. It’s hard, but it’s time and I know it is what God wants me to do.

As I said in this post I don’t know what’s next, but feel it’s a season of preparedness for something. I’m not ready now, but I will be.

Writing. Writing is definitely a part of what’s next. Sometimes I wonder why I put so much effort into my writing, but it is just what I do. I can’t help it. And though I currently write for free, I know, just like being at Oasis, that it is not wasted.

When was…?

I’ve lost myself in the doing.

When was the last time I bought myself a new dress for a party?

For my birthday party?

Do I celebrate myself?

When was the last time I had a day off?

Like really, truly, literally-no-agenda day off? And not just a day-off-with-ten-other-things-I-need-to-get-done ‘day off’?

When was the last time I had a day to myself?

When was the last time I slept in?

Like really, truly sleep in? And not just a Sleep-In-Til-7am-Sleep-In?

When was the last time I sat with the Lord in prayer for an hour…or two?

Soaking, listening, being?

When was the last time I did a Bible study?

Like really, truly a Bible study, where I’m reading, delving into words, letting the Holy Spirit guide me and speak words of life into my soul? And not just a five-minute-on-the-go-because-I-should-and-feel-guilty-if-I-don’t ‘Bible study’?

This is fuel.

This is energy

This is life.

Life for my life, for my spirit, for my body, for my heart, for my soul, for my mind, emotions agenda.

When was the last time I stopped and listened to the Holy Spirit, to His life-giving words and Spirit?

When was the last time I really, truly listened?

To myself, to others, to God?

When was the last time I took a solo, meandering walk in the park?

This isn’t self-indulgence.

This is life.

This is fuel, energy, non-negotiable sustenance for my weary, always-on-the-go soul who just needs time to breathe.

When was the last time I ate a brownie for breakfast?

Like a really, real brownie, not a store-bought, plastic-packaged ‘breakfast brownie’ that only has 90 calories and if we’re all honest tastes like cardboard and maybe some chemical preservatives.

I don’t know about you, but I need more than 90 calories for breakfast.

When was the last time I…*fill in the blank*?

When was the last time YOU…*fill in the blank*?

I’ve lost myself in the doing.

And I want to find myself in the being.

The Doing

Last night I started to read ‘A Million Little Ways’ by Emily P. Freeman.

I’ve been listening to Emily’s podcast, The Next Right Thing, for a month or two now. In one of her earliest episodes she shares about a woman who wrote to her with a desire to write, but didn’t think she had either the time to write amid her busy schedule and responsibilites or thought it was a dream that she just really couldn’t attain — at least not at this season in her life.

That episode really hit me.

As I listened though, I thought ‘Haven’t I heard this story before?’

A couple of years ago I had been listening to the Makers & Mystsics podcast, and Emily P. Freeman was a speaker on one of the epidodes. And, yes, she had shared the story of the woman who wanted to write, but thought she couldn’t (You can listen to that recording here).

Like I said, that episode really hit me. I listened to it twice. Pondering, listening, trying to discern what this story meant for my life. I felt as if Emily was speaking right to me, as if there was something I needed to know through this story and the questions Emily posed. Was there something I needed to pay attention to in this? Like, really pay attention to?

Back to last night. Three chapters into ‘A Million Little Ways’ and here comes this story again about the woman who wanted to write, but felt like she couldn’t indulge in her dream.

The questions Emily writes in response to this woman’s story is written out below:

“What if you desire to do a particular thing because God created you a particular way, not to tease you or to make you miserable, but to actually mold you into becoming more like him, for his glory and the benefit of others?

Could it be possible that the thing you most long for, the thing you notice and think about and wish you could do, is the thing you were actually made and are being equipped to do?

Could it also be possible that somewhere along the way you got the message that to follow desire would be selfish, when really, it would be the opposite?”

In another early episode of The Next Right Thing podcast Emily asks the question, ‘What do you want?’ and how truly answering that can be a key to unlocking all sorts of inner information about what we were made to do and how that plays into decisions we make through our lives.

As I read last night, with all these questions, ideas, thoughts and memories stirring inside me, I had this thought, ‘I’ve lost myself in the doing.‘

Much of what I want in life has to do with being.

Writing is a very slow and ponderous activity.

You sit.

You write.

You think.

You study.

You write some more, think some more, study some more and on.

It’s not a fast paced activity. It’s a being activity.

Yet, I so enjoy it. I feel it is part of my calling, something I was designed to do.

(And yes, I am currently making time for that in my schedule. Even in my busy, active schedule).

Having deep conversations with friends is not a fast-paced activity. Mentoring is slow. Binding books is time consuming. Making art is hard work. Being creative takes a lot of effort. Creating space in your home that is comfortable, welcoming and relaxing to yourself and others takes skill and time.

These are all things I enjoy. Feel called to. These are all being activities, even if they are all work.

Somewhere along the way I’ve lost myself in the doing.

The doing just to do. The job that needs to be done, whether I like it or not. The bills that have to be paid. The tasks that need to be finished. I put things on my plate; overwhelm myself.

I’m trying to find the balance in my schedule between doing and being. I don’t want to lose myself in the doing. I already have; once, twice, now.

How do I keep from losing myself in the doing?

How do I find myself in the being?

I am believing that this season coming up will be one of finding myself, preparedness for things to come, laying low and hearing God’s voice.

Obscurity

I feel like this is a season of obscurity for me.

Now why in the world would anyone want to be ‘obscure‘?

Unknown? Unseen? Unimportant?

I said in this post that at the end of this month (April) I am leaving my volunteer job after fourteen years. I definitely feel like this is something that the Lord is leading me to do. I may not know why exactly, but I have an inkling of why. A small little bit of why. Do we always have to know why???

I am hoping that having another ‘day’ in my week not wholly dedicated to my part time job (ie, running around a warehouse picking orders, packing orders, restocking inventory, sending things to Amazon, etc) will give me:

A chance to slow down and hear God’s voice
More time to work on my business and Etsy shop (And hopefully ease my way out of my part time job)
Time to write (Potentially work on some ‘real’ writing, as in submitting work, taking a class on self-publishing/freelancing and perhaps even starting a book)

Saying all those things, or outlining them, I feel like I have a lot of hope and expectations going into just one day per week.

The last two items are work/creative project related. So I’m not necessarily giving myself a day off every week…however if I am at home working on these things, I have more of a flexible schedule to slow down and take time as needed to step away from what I’m working on and be with the Lord and hear how He will lead me.

I felt a few months ago that God was wanting me to ‘Lay low‘.

Cut back. Stop. Let go.

I didn’t know that that would definitely mean letting God of my volunteer job, although I had a feeling it might be.

Although, I must say, it’s hard to be any lower than I am at Oasis! The clothing room is situated in the basement of the building and we’ve often referred to it as the ‘bowels of the basement’. Even though a lot of people do come in and out of the clothing room, both volunteers and refugees, we — my clothing room cohort and I — are not upstairs being ‘seen’. Going through bags of used clothings and donated items is hardly a job worth desiring, although I do very much enjoy it (You never know what you’re going to find!).

Despite my unseen-ness at Oasis, I feel like what the Lord was wanting me to do was different…it was more of a letting go…to make room for something new.

A season of laying low, of obscurity, so that I can prepare for what is ahead, or work towards things I’ve wanted to do…even though I didn’t know I really wanted to do them until recently (e.g., write a book).

So maybe this season of laying low, of obscurity really ISN’T obscurity…maybe it’s more about preparing myself.

A season of preparedness.

Being prepared, or getting prepared for something, can very often look like doing a bunch of mundane boring tasks, but they have to be done in order for the next thing to happen.

So…I am looking at this coming seson as one of yes, work, yes, listening to the Lord and preparing for something new, something yet to be seen.

Caring for Molly

A couple of weeks ago I noticed that our new pet guinea pig, Molly, had a little lump on her neck.

It almost looked like she had a beard, because the lump was making her fur stick out in all directions.

I mentioned it to Adam a day or two after I noticed it and he looked it up on ‘Dr. Google’ and found out that apparently guinea pigs are susceptible to getting abscesses on their neck/throat.

We were both worried about her…and said as much to each other, yet you could feel the tension in the air; we were both more worried than we let on.

The next day, a Saturday, Adam called two vets in the area and made apointments for them to see what was going on with this lump. Molly herself was acting normally. Eating, drinking, sqeaking, running around doing her ‘zoomies’, as if nothing was the matter. I was thankful that she was acting normal and not lethargic, but we both felt like she needed to see a vet, sooner rather than later.

After Adam made the two vet appointments (Just to have them) he called the pet store where we had bought her. They said that if was within the 30 day return policy we could take her back to the store where we bought her and they would cover the vet visit. Effectually they would buy her back so she was in their custody, they would give us a gift card for her, and they would take care of any vet bill. We still had the receipt. We were on day 28.

So off we went to the pet store. We gave Molly a few peppers before we left, her little treat for the car ride. I sat in the back with her in her habitat, Adam drove.

The pet store thankfully honored their 30 day policy and took Molly back into their care. The manager said that it would probably be a week or two that they would have her, to figure out what was going on and then make sure she was stable and healthy before giving her back to us.

It was hard letting her go; really not knowing if we’d see her again. I had to work on really trusting the pet store, do they know what they’re doing?? I had to trust they did, even if it was hard, and ultimately trust God with the whole situation.

It was discouraging. The poor thing had some hard lump on her neck, and she’s such a sweet thing! I felt bad for her. And it was discouraging because we had talked about getting a pet for a number of months before getting her and then less than four weeks in to owning her we had to take her back, even if only temporarily.

The house seemed quiet and kind of dull without her. I know guinea pigs are small creatures, but she took up a lot of our hearts and there was a fullness we missed when she was gone.

Molly was gone for over two weeks, before we finally got her back yesterday. I was afraid we might not get her back; the two weeks seemed a very long time without her.

But Adam picked her up yesterday from the pet store and I picked her up from Adam’s office after my volunteer job and brought her home.

Funny story; Adam said when he got to the pet store they were having a sale on guinea pigs…so he bought Molly back at the sale price. 🙂 He used the rest of the gift card for more bedding for her. I had to laugh.

Plus since we bought her back the 30 day policy goes into effect again. I hope we don’t have to use it. I prayed over her when we got home; that she would be a healthy guinea pig, no more skin infections. Amen.

I thought maybe Molly wouldn’t remember me or have to get used to her habitat at our house again, but those fears were unfounded. She was right at home again; as if she had never left. Eating hay, squeaking, running around her cage. I gave her a treat and some peppers. I knew she had ben through a lot the last couple of weeks. The lump on her neck was, thankfully, gone, but there is an indentation where it had been. A little reminder of her abscence.

It got me thinking about vets and so thankful that there are people in the world who work on caring for small animals. I have no interest in doing surgery on a guinea pig, but there are people out there who do and I am so grateful for their knowledge and expertise.

This situation also reminds me about what I was posting about last year around this time, in this post here.

Someone actually likes doing surgery on guinea pigs? To the it’s what they are called to do? They enjoy it?

It seems odd, but I’m sure it’s true. And I am grateful for the gift and talent vets have that is so much different than mine. The world needs all sorts. The world needs you.

If you are a small animal vet, thank you.

Molly thanks you too.

Joy & Privilge

Last week I gave notice to my volunteer job that I am moving on from my position there.

This has not been an easy decision and, if I am honest, I’ve probably been praying off and on about leaving for about two years; around the time COVID hit the US.

I felt a shift then, as I’m sure we all did.

But the Stay at Home order came and went, and the place I volunteer at re-opened and we went back to our regular scheduled program, per masks, social distancing and limited hours.

And the past two years there have been good. I haven’t regretted my decision to continue on.

But lately I’ve started to feel unsettled there and I feel another shift and the bird’s nest is beginning to be ruffled and plucked.

I don’t know why this is. I just know that the Lord is moving me on for some reason and I have to obey. I do feel like Abraham when the Lord called him out of his country and he didn’t know where he was going…but he went. He obeyed.

A little background about this job…

In early 2007 I had returned to St. Louis from the mission field. I had gotten a job at the St. Louis Bread Co (aka, Panera), but was wanting to serve somewhere. A job was all well and good, but missions was still on my heart. I wanted to serve.

One of the pastors at my church knew of a local organization that was just getting off the ground called Oasis International Ministries. Their mission was to help refugees who were relocating to St. Louis. In November of 2007, I went with Sherry (The pastor) to a celebration day at Oasis International; they had just bought a building and had a little open house to celebrate. I met Mark and Joani there, the people who started Oasis.

A couple of months later I met with Mark and Joani one morning to see if I could officially volunteer there one day a week. We had a short interview and set up for me to come the next Monday. There was already one lady, also named Joanie, who was already coming in on Mondays to volunteer, so Mark thought that we could keep each other company while we worked.

So the next Monday, 10am, I, as a 28 year old ‘kid’ started my volunteer job at Oasis. Who knows what I did that first day; I’ve no idea. I just remember that my heart was to serve and to do whatever they asked of me, whatever was needed. I had no grand plans.

When I first started I never knew what I was going to be doing every week. I just came and did what needed to be done; from helping out with computer classes, to filing paperwork and data entry, to sorting through clothing donations, to organizing the storage closet, to praying, etc.

Joanie, the other volunteer, was always my cohort and eventually both her and I took over organizing the clothing room. Our unglamorous job was sorting through the clothing donations that came in and organizing the room in the basement that was designated as the ‘clothing room’. Sorting and organizning the clothing room became my weekly job and I loved it.

It has never been hard for me to go to Oasis. It has always been a joy and privilge to work alongside Mark and Joani and all the other wonderful volunteers to help the refugees who come to st. Louis to rebuild their lives. It has always been fun for me, even when it was hard. Part of the fun was seeing what people donated. Opening up a bag you never knew what you could find; sometimes designer clothing all washed, folded and ready to go, sometimes you’d find bags clothes covered in pet hair or smelled of cigarette smoke. The nice clothes we kept for our refugee friends, the not-so-nice clothes we passed on to other organizations for their perusal.

It became so that we really could only keep in-season clothing; everything well-organized into men’s, women’s, boy’s and girl’s clothing. We offered shoes, purses, toys, jewelry, undergarments, hats, gloves, scarfs, coats, dresses, skirts, yoga pants and leisurewear. We even kepts belts and men’s ties.

I’ve always thought that going to Oasis was like keeping my finger on God’s heartbeat for the world.

So many people from so many nations come to Oasis for practical help; furniture, English classes, clothes, driving lessons, food, citizenship classes and diaper distribution to name just a few.

The nations truly are God’s heart and being at Oasis has been such a blessing to me to see all the beautiful people He loves from other nations.

My last day is at the end of April. It’s hard to put fourteen years worth of events and emotion in to one blog post. I am sure I will need to process this more. For now, it’s hard leaving even though I know it’s time.

What a Travel Agent Does

My husband has been working in the travel industry in some form or another since he graduated from college.

He currently works for an agency that does leisure travel. Family vacations, honeymoons, destination weddings, resorts, Europe, Disney, scenic railways, cruises, etc.

When we were dating and he would meet my friends for the first time and tell them what he did for a job I often heard the response of ‘Travel agent? They still exist?’

The answer is yes, travel agents and agencies still exist, even with the advent of the internet and ‘ease’ of booking trips on your own.

So, if you can easily book trips, airline tickets, cruises and tours on your own through the handy dandy world wide web, why on earth do you need a travel agent?

This answer was made clear to me after Adam and I were married and I went with him to his office at 9 o’clock at night in order for him to fix an issue with a client in Thailand who needed to switch their flight back to the US because they got sick the day before they were coming home.

Do you want to be the one calling the airline in a foreign country to switch your ticket last minute when you’re sick?

I thought not.

Therefore a travel agent, plain and simple, has your back when things don’t go quite as you planned.

In order for a travel agent to help you with issues though, you do need to book your trip through an agency.

That sounds like a no brainer, but it’s no good calling up some random travel agency when you’re on a trip that you didn’t book with them so they can help you with a problem, because…they can’t (They don’t have your personal details, booking number, flight information, transport info, etc., etc.).

If you don’t book with them, they can’t really help you.

So a good rule of thumb is to book your trip through an agency first thing, not on your own.

A travel agent helps with planning your trip too. Using a travel agent is helpful when you’re booking because they do have good relationships with vendors, resort chains, industry representatives, etc. They know their stuff. They can work the system for you. They can pricematch. They can get you private transfers instead of a big bus. They can get you resort amenities you wouldn’t get if you booked it on your own.

It’s best, though, to go in with an idea of what you’re wanting to do before you contact an agency.

It is highly frustrating for a travel agent to get an initial trip request that reads, ‘I would like to go on vacation. We are thinking we’d like to go in late September, but maybe August or the end of July. It doesn’t really matter. We like to hike, but we also like the beach. Or we also thought of going to a resort. Or maybe Disney World’.

Uh, so…how can I help you? Are you looking for July, August or September? Resort, Disney or hiking?

A firm date range and a solid idea of what you want to do is extremely helpful to a travel agent. They have relationships with many vendors and companies and cruiselines, but the whole process is made so much easier if you know what you actually want.

That doesn’t mean they are unwilling to help, they do want to and will gladly put a trip together for you, just best to have a good idea of where you want to go, what you want to do and when.

Travel agents do travel themselves, but how often really depends on their job within the agency or industry.

When Adam and I were dating and first married he went on many FAM (Or Familiarity) Trips with other agents to the Dominican, Jamaica, Cancun and Cabo. During these trips the group would do site inspections of the different all-inclusive resorts and be wined and dined by the various resort chains. Sometimes it was a lot of work and other times it was more of a long weekend vacation with a one or two site inspections thrown in. That being said, the day-to-day job of a travel agent is not them traveling, but working in an office and being there for you when you are traveling.

Much of a travel agent’s job is putting out metaphorical fires. Many, many times they are ‘on hold’ with a vendor (Such as Funjet, Disney or Delta Vacations) to get an issue fixed. Sometimes they have to wait for hours, literally, to talk to a representative for a simple request such as adding a baby to a lap for a plane ride.

Be nice to your travel agent. Getting a trip together can sometimes take days or weeks. It depends on what is involved. Piecing together a Europe trip can be quite a process and takes some time. Allow enough time for your travel agent to get things together; flights, transportation, hotels, tours. Be patient while they work on it.

A travel agent cannot control the weather. There’s almost always a chance of rain in Cancun, but usually it’s mild. I’ve been on a few vacations where, yes, it rained, but it certainly didn’t ruin the vacation.

A travel agent also does not control plane delays, due to weather or any other circumstance. Therefore it is not their fault when flights are delayed and you have to wait in the airport for hours. They can help you though, by potentially finding you another flight or helping when flights are cancelled.

A travel agent cannot control which room you are put in at your resort. You can most definitely choose a room type (Such as ocean view, partial ocean view, swim out, resort view or various suites), however, which specific room within those types (Such as floor number, how close you are to the spa, etc.) will vary. You also can request a room with a king bed, instead of two queens, but it is simply just a request. The resort is not obligated to fulfill requested; what you end up with is often based on availablity.

Some tips when traveling or working with an agent:

Always get travel insurance.

I can’t tell you how many times my husband has offered travel insurance to a client and they decline saying, ‘Oh, we’re going to go!’ and then later have to cancel due to unforseen circumstances and then not get a refund due to cancelling.

Or they decline the insurance, go on the trip and then in the middle of the vacation end up with a burst appendix and have to have emergency surgery and spend the rest of the time in the hospital.

Should have gotten the insurance.

2. There is also no such thing as a last minute deal.

This is especially true around high travel times such as Spring Break, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Summer Vacations.

If you want a spring break trip but wait until two weeks before you want to go, there is a good chance that everything will be sold out. You can’t wait until the last minute to book because you won’t be able to get what you want when you want it. Either that or you will get what you want, but pay a much heftier price for it simply because you waited.

3. Book bags at the time of booking your trip. Don’t wait until the last minute.

4. Read your travel documents. A good travel agent will send you travel documents; an itinerary with all the details like airlines and flight times, tours, transporation, hotels, etc. Read them. Read their emails. Most likely if you have a question about the trip it has already been answered within their communication or in the travel documents. Feel free to reach out and ask them though if you don’t see the answer to your question.

Oh…and that whole COVID thing…did you get stuck somewhere two years ago in the panic of everything shutting down…???? In 2020 my husband did nothing except book trips for two and a half months and then spent THE REST OF THE YEAR cancelling all the trips then rescheduling then cancelling and rescheduling.

There are many, many aspects to being a travel agent. I hope this has given you some of the feel of what it is like to be an agent.