Wipe the Dust Off

I am falling in love all over again with scripture.  I'm finding that I'm easily disgruntled, discouraged, or guilty when it comes to the interpretations of scripture (i.e., books that people write - Christian bookstores are enormous these days, no?).  I find I'm often subject to attempts of mass conviction.  And to be honest, an unfamiliar writer somewhere in the world trying to amp up my faith and tell me what we all do wrong and (hence) what I'm doing wrong?  Bogus.  I must admit, there are plenty of edifying books out there.  I could just eat up C.S. Lewis and Don Miller.  But I find the writers that lift you up are few and far between. 

 

But when I read scripture ... oh when I read scripture!

 

I am edified.  I am lifted up and filled to my brim.  I am enticed, and engaged, and even when I'm convicted, it's from a place of love and encouragement to the point where changing is exactly what I want to do.  What a concept!  To go back to the source is proving incredible.  Even delving the background, the history, the lineages is so refreshing.  I've started again at the beginning - the book of Genesis - and the answers are coming together.  The kind of person Cain was and the choices he made.  The necessity of Seth's existence.  The patriarchs leading up to Noah and the kind of fathers that they were.  The complete orchestration of the flood and what kind of phenomenon that was.  Have you ever seen streams come out of the sky and the barriers of the sea broken?  When reading this living and active Word, I see who God is.  In reading the story of our history, I see His face and His energies.  To nitpick the details is not to just gain scriptural background and history, it's to see the work of God, and to see His character through His actions.  It's to fear Him and respect Him.  Scripture, being living and active, seems to encourage in us a right (yet not complete) understanding and perspective of the Creator of the universe.  Want to know who God is?  Read His book.  The work, the curiosities, the questions answered and the infinitely more obtained are all worth it. 

 

Boom. 

Fuji san

Mount Fuji is massive.  I climbed it last week, and we even cheated.  But it is HUGE. 

 

We drove up to 5th station - about halfway up the mountain - and started climbing around 9:30 pm.  Up, up, up.  Lots of loose gravel, careful maneuvering, and boulder scaling.  To 6th station, 7th station, 8th station, and all the little huts in between that offered to put stamps on our walking sticks.  It took us 7 hours just to get that far.  Thank the good Lord we couldn't see how far we had to go. 

 

Overnight, we could see the city.  Yamanashi was at the base of the mountain, and Tokyo was further away, along the bay.  There were stars and lightning and city lights everywhere.  It was simply amazing. 

 

We watched the sunrise from 8th station at 5 am, and continued on in the heat through 9th station.  Still up, up, up.  Climbing and resting and climbing and water breaks.  And climbing.  When we finally walked through the torii gate to signify summit, it was about 7 o'clock in the morning.  Oh glorious.  Realizing we still had to get ourselves down the mountain, we quickly laid eyes on the volcanic crater, got our stamps, rested a bit, and started down. 

 

Oh the way down! 

 

Zig zag.  Left and right.  Loose gravel.  And thoughts of impending death.  Ok, maybe it wasn't that bad, but a clutz on a mountain scaling downward?  Bad idea.  I only fell once.  Yes, I pride myself on that.  But I wish I could've just fallen my way down that mountain.  With each step you take, you become more exhausted and robotic.  Step.  Step.  Step.  You feel your knees and your hips.  You dread taking off your boots and seeing what your feet look like. 

 

From the looks of the map, after the zig zags, things seem to level out.  You find hope.  It's not until you keep going in the downward direction that you realize it was false.  When the ground finally levels out, 5th station - your sweet destination - is fleeting.  You keep turning corners thinking you're there.  Only to find more rocks.  And gravel.  And paths that never end. 

 

Wah waaaah.

 

Along the way, I passed fresh looking climbers, ready to scale the mountain and reach the top.  I wanted to shout at them.  No!  What are you doing?  Turn back!  But I thought better of it.

 

After over 12 hours of movement.  I finally sat down in the car where my husband and mother-in-law were already resting.  And I kid you not, I was broken.  Emotionally.  After wallowing and weeping a little, I was better.  And ready for get some rest. 

 

It's funny that only after you climb do you realize that people would have to be crazy in order to trade a good night's sleep to climb a 12,300 foot mountain.  Who does that?! 

 

It was glorious to arrive home, take a shower and 4-hour nap, wake up only to go out for Indian food, and crash until the next morning.  Believe me, the views and the accomplishment were worth it.  Rarely have I laid eyes on such beauty - it was breath-taking!

 

Would I do it again?  Never in your life. 

 

8th Station. Right before sunrise.

 

 

 

200 meters to summit!

 

Me and my father-in-law at summit.

 

The crater.

 

Aomuke

I dropped my cat on his back yesterday.  Whep.  It was a mix of holding him upside down, him wishing to be released in a certain direction, and me trying to not break his hip.  Chaos.  Hence, dropped on his back.  But only from a foot in the air.  Yay? 

I find this super interesting and coincidental.  And NOT the universe yelling at me for dropping my poor little kittuh.

Mama Mania

I'm all over the place.

Babies are all I think about.  And that initially sounds like I'm anxious for pregnancy and motherhood.  Well, calm down.  That's only part of it.  There are days I'm freaking out.  Because you know what they call us NFP folks.  Honestly, I'm a big fan of NFP.  Not only has it helped me understand my body and its patterns, but it has greatly increased my faith and trust.  To give up any plans of my own and to realize that I'm not actually in control.  God is sovereign, and He'll give me babies when He wants to!  And it shall be perfect.  But of course, I will always be growing toward this level of trust.

Anyway.

There are days of panic, because I am smack dap in the middle of a pregnancy scare.  I kid you not.  And we conveniently have neighbors whose kids scream.  All.  The.  Freaking.  Time.  Could this really potentially be my life soon?  More in the last year than ever in my life have I seen more temper tantrums, freak out sessions, and drama from humans under the age of 10. 

And to be honest, I think it's all pretty ridiculous.  I've also face palmed more in the last year ...

Not my idea of sanity. 

Then there's the fact that life isn't planned out.  I have so much more to do and see and figure out!  My dreams are lofty.  Will they die as my children are born?

Oh that age old question. 

But then.  I.  Just.  Realize. 

I have my moments of clarity in which I'm brought to tears thinking about my children.  MY children.  And I can't handle NOT being pregnant.  Because they have names already.  And ideas and techniques and theories surrounding how they'll be raised, and how much their parents (hey that's me!) will love them.  I see photos of other peoples' exploring, wondering, playing, laughing, joyful kids, and I just want photos of MY exploring, wondering, playing, laughing, joyful kids. 

Kids are obnoxious.  And I haven't yet pushed the idea out of my head that motherhood will be like 24-hour babysitting without pay.  Because yes, it's constant attentiveness and care and discipline.  But I'm coming to accept that there's so much more to it.  Midst the meal-planning and education and cleaning up vomit every 3 seconds, there's just something about raising tiny humans.  That something is more extraordinary than anything else I will do.  Of that I am convinced.

Am I ready for this?  We'll have to see if the time is now. 

My New Friendly Folk

My soul is nomming.

I go through spurts of discontentment with life.  And then I go through a spurt of confusion because I'm never bored.  Why am I anxious?  My life is full, and I enjoy the things I do.  But the discontentment came every once in a blue moon. 

It took my best friend to make me realize what I was doing.  I was filling my time instead of my soul.  What is busy-ness if you're not doing the things that make you tick? 

Two days after this realization, I start volunteering at Kanazawa Zoo.  I was unsure of how it would pan out, me definitely not being a fluent speaker of Japanese.  But my first day there, I said to myself, This is it, and finally, I'm feeding my soul.

Week #1 at the zoo, I fed a giraffe.

This lovely lady also gave me kisses and lots of long, purple tongue on my shoulders.  What a flirt.  Her name is Miruku (literally "Milk").

Week #2, I got to play with their juvenile Black Rhinoceros, Fuka (pronounced who-kah, as in I am smoking a). 

She's 1 year 3 months, and she weighs over 400 kg (almost 900 lbs).  Her skin is so tough that they have to vaccinate her behind the ear.  Also, she is adorable. 

There are 4 subspecies of Black Rhinoceros, and they're all found throughout central and southern Africa.  They're all endangered.  In fact, the Western Black Rhinoceros was declared extinct in 2011 by the IUCN.  Fuka is an Eastern Black Rhinoceros.

Week #3 was yesterday.  My husband, Curt, was going to meet me when we were done with our program, but I ran into him when we were about to see the Indian Rhinoceros, so the zookeepers brough him back too!  Their male Indian Rhinoceros is Kintaro ("Golden Boy" or "Soldier").  He's 2000 kg (~4500 lbs). 

My new favorite thing about rhinos (at least the ones I've played around with) is that they're actually pretty affectionate.  They'll lean into your touch and turn so you can "scratch" their ribs (which is actually more like slapping - their skin is so tough!).  This proved dangerous for me yesterday as Kintaro leaned into my hand and pinned it against a bar!  My fault.  Thank God for on-the-ball, strong zookeepers and protective husbands.  ;)

Latest lesson: feed your soul.  Or you'll feel what it's like to not feed your soul.  I'm learning not only how to understand what I need, but also to get what I need when things aren't perfect (i.e., living in a foreign country).  Sometimes, you just have to make it happen and let yourself rely on others to accommodate you.  Boom.  Life is good.

Japan's Next Top?

There are moments in which I feel I have obtained the utmost randomness. 

For example,

I'm registered with a modeling agency out of Tokyo called Junes.  Many Navy wives (and children) pursue modeling while they're out here.  The Japanese seem fond of blonde hair and blue eyes.  It hasn't gone anywhere, my 'modeling career' with Junes, but hey, I went to a modeling fair on base and it was fun.  So I go to auditions when I get them and 100 percent of the time end up laughing at myself afterwards. 

It's great.

My first audition with Junes was a bit of a mishap.  I didn't understand the process.  Junes has your information and some photos on file, and when a job comes up, they email everyone with the information of audition date, job date, stipend, etc.  Those who are available email back and from that pot, they pick a choice few from their photos.  Those are the ones who audition.   I got the first email, responded, and ended up going down to their offices on audition day without understanding that I was indeed not selected for an audition.  Awkward.  But they were kind and let me audition anyway. 

And they had to photograph my hands.  Dang you, enormous writing bump! 

My second audition, I was actually selected for (yay!), and it was for an underwear ad.  Yeah ... great.  I was surrounded by Russian bombshells and was the only foreigner who didn't speak Japanese.  They put me in spandex and asked me to 'emphasize the breasts'.  I think I've said enough about that one. 

Bwahaha.

My third ever modeling audition was today.  For a car commercial.  In Spain.  With a $3,500 stipend and travel expenses.  Uhm.  Hi, I'm Carrie and I have no experience but I'm going to try my darndest.  So I made my way up to Ikejiri Ohashi (eh?) and ran into a Frenchman who would be my audition partner.  We were placed in a fake car and told that we have fake children behind us and are going on a fake road trip.  Oh, and that we're fake married.  So we laughed and had fun and gawked at the fake sea we were fake driving by.  It was by far the funnest (i.e., least awkward) audition yet, but still so utterly random.  Where am I?  What am I doing?  Who are these people?  All in a day's work.

I guess when given the right avenues, my awkwardness knows no bounds.  Power to me.

Fish = Friends

I've recently caught on to Mental Floss.  I don't read all their posts, because in reality, I would have to spend my entire day doing it.  But they seem to know that there are some of us quirky animal lovers out in the world, and they cater to us just fine.  Here's one that I found to be fascinating about a vegetarian shark.