Party report

The Christmas party was a success. Having a house-full of guests turned out as joy and not headache. The number and mix of people seemed perfect: a few foreigners and many Vietnamese friends, enough space to move and few enough chairs to promote movement, and plenty of food to go around. We enjoyed good conversations. In a new way, I think, the roles reversed between us and our Vietnamese friends: we were now the welcomers and extenders of our culture, and they the learners and guests.
As our friends arrived we passed them small cards with characters from the Christmas story written on them. Halfway through the party we corralled everyone into the living room for a simple role-play, reading the story while our friends listened for their parts to appear. Then still in the living room we got out the guitar and sang Christmas carols.

We're thanking God these days for a lot. For one, the team seems to be getting along well. Not the easy politeness as at first, but a familiar feeling. Considering the process it has taken until now, I realize that I far underestimated how central the team relations would be to this experience. We spend most of every day together--waking, eating, working, relaxing. It is really a unique, and probably (I can only guess) the closest thing to marriage I've ever experienced. So yes, being on good terms with each other is a real blessing.

The temp has dipped down to 68 during the days, and we laugh as we walk around the house in socks and long sleeves, shivering. At night I've been bundling up and honestly needing my blanket. It's marvelous.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

As the East Coast is waking up to it's Saturday morning, I'm here in the staff room at Fisher's on Saturday night after teaching a class and unclogging the bathroom sink. It's as good a time as ever to write.
My class tonight (only one on Saturdays--a sweet break!) was the last class before its exam next Tuesday. Today we cram-reviewed shapes and colors, we learned the new words Yak, Yo-yo, and Yarn, and we practiced singing the Alphabet Jingle Bells for the school Christmas show next weekend. Maybe I'll video the finished product and put the link here. Of all the classes, this is probably my favorite, and nights like these do make me think hard about staying at Fisher's for another year. Other days are just plain draining, when motivation won't be had, and I'm quite sure one year will be enough.

This year is already spinning away, just like it does in any other part of the world. Lately I have begun to recognize how long relationships take to develop, how long it takes to feel at home in a place, and how little can humanly be done in this short time.

The days have been busy, in the same way days at college were busy, and in the same way any day goes by with a little space between breakfast and lunch, a breath, and a few hours of work before bed (or so it feels).

Tomorrow is something new for Bryan, Dawn, Nicky, and I: we're hosting a Christmas party for most of the people we know here in DaNang, including the school staff, neighbors, and folks from DIF. As many as 40 could show up. We're hoping the Rice-Krispy treat wreaths and no-bake cookies will be a hit. Today we put lights on our fake tree and started to de-clutter the house. The season has provided much fodder for team chats about our own family traditions and quirks. My Dad, I explained, has a certain way of putting the lights on in vertical loops instead of a spiral. We've decided to make stockings for each other and have our Christmas morning with them.

We have Christmas day off--and so far have no plans--but the days won't get any calmer till after the new year. Courses are finishing and starting, there are people to meet and parties to attend. Each of us is getting more and more invitations from Vietnamese friends and our students' parents.

The weather report: Rain and surprisingly cooler temps. Heavenly! Four typhoons since Xangsane have geared up come through the Philipines toward us, but none has made it this far.

Okay- my other teammates are done teaching and it's time to stroll home. If Dawn was successfull at ordering a pizza, it looks like we won't have instant noodles for the third night in a row.

Thanks for reading!

Teacher's day!

Here's me arriving home on Saturday night with a smile and flowers from my students. Monday, November 20th is a big national holiday in Vietnam to honor teachers. Flower stands lined the streets all weekend, and on Monday the Vietnamese TV was full of special choreographed productions of kids singing to their teachers.

Everyone has asked, "In U.S. you have teacher's day also?"
So...why don't we? I wonder.

Since my last post I have started two new classes. One is a group of three teens, two of which are preparing to go to high school in the States. Another is a course with the middle-aged younger kids. So that puts me at a full schedule, six classes and sixteen hours of teaching per week. I'll need to work on long-term planning. Now that I'm teaching everything from the six-year olds to the parents, it's a great opportunity to get a taste of teaching different ages.

Hai closed the school for Teacher's Day and on Sunday took us, the school staff and his family to Hue for the night. We saw some sights, but mainly enjoyed the time to be together outside work. It was a blessing.

Teaching is the reason

I’m a bit embarrassed that I haven’t yet written much about the first cause for my time here in DaNang: teaching! Life has felt so interesting, internal growth and change has felt so noteworthy, that the wild and crazy challenge of teaching children slips right by. Or perhaps it’s that whenever my thoughts focus on teaching I feel tired, and when I think about trying to explain it, I’m spent.

I teach three classes that each meet two evenings a week. Two are with younger children, most between six and ten. They are very beginners. We begin each class singing the ABC song and spend the rest learning three or four new words for the day’s letter of the alphabet. “Car! Cat! Candy!” (echo). We play games like race-to the board-to-slap-the-right-picture or competing to answer a question first. The kids spend some time on a worksheet while they drink milk. At this point I spend at least a quarter of the class time working to keep order and attention. Some of these kids have an incredible amount of energy! I (and all the teachers) use a ten-point system where the kids start with a big 10 next to their name and lose points if they misbehave. If they have ten at the end, they get a much-coveted sticker.

For a little video of one of these classes a few weeks ago (it has more students now) timidly singing the alphabet song, click here.

Let me insert a little reflection: what a humbling experience to be teaching the alphabet, passing out milk, singing kids songs. It has nothing to do with my accreditation or knowledge or my ability to speak intelligently. And yet it’s important—so important. That has been an unexpected lesson.

My third class is with older students who have been through two levels at the school already. The age range is wider—between six and twelve—and we’re working on things like “Where’s the bat?” “It’s under the bag” and “Do you want pizza?” “No, I want ice cream.” My goal is to get the students speaking as much as possible. Although older, this group can have as much spunk as the little ones.

All our students have English names, and in my younger classes I had the fun of naming them. Ask me; I might have named one after you!

Each course level runs for twelve weeks at a time. It’s hard to believe that I’m almost through with teaching my first one! Most of the students I have now will continue to the next course with me as their teacher. This is good; I think the kids and I are developing some rapport. I will also take on a few new classes, bringing my load to about fifteen hours a week. I have been so grateful to start with a little and work up

For three weeks now, one night a week, I teach a class for parents. The school made a new deal that includes free lessons for the parents of enrolled kids. It’s quite a different experience, and I like it for that reason. It’s also a good opportunity to build relationships.

A little about all of us: Dawn and Nicky teach off site at two different kindergartens in addition to classes as Fisher’s. Bryan teaches the older students and two parent’s classes.

A challenge we all share is adjusting to the work schedule. The day has a different pace than we are used to: teaching at night means using the morning to relax and the afternoon to gear up for work. It is difficult to do things with other people here, since six nights a week are booked. Teaching until 8:00 or 9:00 means eating dinner late, which we’re still figuring out how to do successfully. And the stress of adjusting to a new culture adds a bit of friction to it all.

The past two months have been loaded with moments of frustration, but also sprinkled with satisfaction and encouragement. Some nights I shuffle home and think "I'm just not cut out for teaching kids." Other nights, I only remember the positives.

But my two months of teaching isn't a long time. A lot could happen over the year--sealing my decision to move on, or to keep teaching.

And I need to remember that there is much to be thankful for. The staff in the office are excellent helps and good friends. Almost all our curriculum is provided, which cuts down on prep time.

Thanks for reading, and for staying in touch! I hope you all are well.

Way leads on to Hue

Back from Hue city (Hway) this weekend (Oct. 7-8) where Bryan, Dawn, Nicky and I took a short respite from teaching and official team life. The break was needed. Typhoon Xangsane, the previous weekend, exposed the general stress we have had from being in a new culture, from living with three very different people, and from getting used to our jobs as teachers. Hai was understanding in letting us have Saturday off so we could get away.

Other highlights of Hue: (click on the picture to see it bigger)

Taking the early train North along the mountainous coastline.

A boat tour on the Perfume River to see a famous Pagoda.

Walking the streets of Hue at night

Having fun taking pictures at the Royal Citadel (also see top). Quite an impressive place.

Returning by bus over the Hai Van pass. (This picture was taken at a rest stop near a lake).

Thanks for reading. And thanks to all of you for support and encouragement. Getting away for a weekend like we did here is helpful, but it means alot to know that you all are thinking and praying.

The Storm

So what’s this about a Typhoon hitting Da Nang? We weren’t sure either on Friday night, Sep. 29^th, when we first heard. Typhoon Xangsane had already caused major damage in the Philippines and was intensifying in the South China Sea. The weather reports online were calling for a category 4 storm, with 140 mph winds. The Vietnamese at the school laughed a little and cancelled class for Saturday. “Just a storm,” they said.

Later that night we sat in our living room like kids nervous and excited about our first day of school. We talked about what a typhoon would be like. We joked to ease the tension. We monitored weather reports online. Sometime before midnight a rat dashed into the living room and gave us a wild time chasing it around with a plastic pail. We caught it, but it escaped again, and we think it went outside. Back to the typhoon. A serious-sounding email from a friend in Saigon encouraged us to fly there next morning at 9:00, which added a tone of panic to the whole situation. We went to bed late, with roaming thoughts, and woke up early in the middle of a difficult decision—head to the airport? Stick it out and take care of the house? Whose advice should we follow? For the first time our team encountered a serious split of opinions. I walked downstairs to the garage with a bowl of cereal. Outside everything looked normal; people went by on bikes. Guys sat across the street smoking and eating their breakfast. I pointed to the sky and tried to say “storm” in Vietnamese. “Yes, storm,” said the man in the garage. The receptionist added timidly, “plea—tonay, cloe your window.”

To summarize a few tense hours, we defaulted to staying and began to make ready. The wind and rain arrived as we took a taxi to the supermarket to stock up on food. Who knew how long we might be without power or water? A loudspeaker sounded in the street, warning people (we assumed) to take cover for the night. Added to the general tension was a serious fracturing of our team, and the day went on with awkward silences and unsaid feelings.

We prepared the house as best we knew how: wiring the windows shut, taking the plants in from the 4^th floor balcony, covering the opening behind the sink with plastic. We had little concept of what a typhoon might be like. All I could call up in my head were images of sailboats tossed onto the beach and pieces of houses floating through the street. More e-mails came from ESI friends in Saigon warning us to leave town, that the storm could be bad. For the first time in my life a very real sense of dread began to hover over me, that something awesome and terrible was about to come, and that I could only wait.

I realized how often I pray with little personal investment in the outcome. Now I learned what it meant to pray and need an answer today.

Not that I felt my life was in real danger; I assumed that things would be fine (as they were). It was the great unknown that scared me. What might happen?

We picked a storage room next to our kitchen with the smallest window and set it up as the “bomb shelter” with food and water, flashlights, snacks, and books. It was probably a bit much, but it made us feel better. And we did retreat to that room for the last few hours of the storm, when the gusts were shaking the house and our roof tiles were smashing in the street. We never lit the candles, but we did open the Snickers bars and play a few games of cards, sitting uncomfortably in that stuffy little place.

When it really began late Saturday night we all slept downstairs near eachother, just snoozing, really, while we waited. Bryan got up every few hours and pointed his video camera out the window, dictating some CNNish description. (We wanted him to stand outside wearing his poncho and hold a microphone). At 5 am when the sky turned from gray to blue, the wind got stronger and tore some metal roofing off a house across the street. It hung up on a tree, and a few motorbikes went by.

The hours wore on with the relentless sound of rain and wind, wind that you could hear approaching like a jet and passing over the house. Our roof trembled, and the pressure changed like a window opening and closing on a moving car.

Bryan’s room was the first to flood, as wind drove water under his balcony door. It came out into the hallway, and every so often I tried to push it back toward the bathroom floor drain with a broom. The fourth floor balcony turned into a swirling pool, and water crept under the doors. We peeked up into the attic to monitor the roof, and it wasn’t in good shape. If the storm had gotten worse I think the roof would have been gone.

The winds died down by noon on Sunday--enough, anyway, that we celebrated the end of the storm with some cold rice and instant noodles.

People were out and about already cleaning up, sweeping rubble into piles, moving fallen signs. The rain had let up. We took our cameras and walked out around the block.

Not much left to the pool hall next door.

A giant construction crane had folded, smashing through a house.

All things considered, we were in a safe part of the city: away from the coast and surrounded by other tall concrete buildings. We heard later on the news that the storm downgraded to a category 1 when it made landfall. Mixed reports came about the wind speeds, but we think 100 mph or less. Yet we heard many Vietnamese say it was the worst storm in decades.

Some, but not many people around our neighborhood were hurt. More good news for us is the reconciliation that happened on our team. The storm showed each other our real personalities, and we did a poor job at first of loving and hearing each other. With some hard discussion, God helped us focus on our common purpose as a team, to forgive and move on. We are thankful that the storm brought out the issues before much more time went by.

Monday morning Simon took us to his neighborhood on the city fringes, where buildings had not fared so well. Almost every second house had lost its roof. Some were nothing more than crumbled masonry. We helped a few people clean up their downed roofing, and we drove on motorbikes around the city to get a better look at the damage.

Out by the bay:

By Monday afternoon the power was back on. We were surprised how quickly people got back to work and went on with life. Four of the office staff either lost their roof or their whole home, and yet classes resumed on Tuesday. The pool hall that collapsed is already totally rebuilt. It seemed as if nobody took a breath. The men downstairs, who are related to the owners of our house, quickly repaired our roof.

I received emails from many of you that you were praying and thinking. That was encouraging. Thank you!

rainy days

The rain began last night a few minutes after we arrived home from teaching. Soon the intersection was flooded to the curbs and motorbikes rode slower, making wakes. One stalled with a submerged tailpipe.
We learned of a few leaky spots in our house, like the opening behind the sink that makes rain pool on the counter and run into the silverware drawer. Up on the fourth floor it was like standing in the shower as the rain pummelled the roof tiles and found all the ways through.
Going to sleep I heard a few prolongued, muted stirrings of thunder, echoing through the city and the tall western mountains.

It's 11 am now, and looking out the glass doors of Fisher's Superkids, the rain has just stopped and the riders have lost their ponchos. The humidity is building again.

Teaching is exciting and exhausting, and I try not to dwell on the thought of taking on two more classes soon (that will give me about sixty students altogether).
This Thursday is the four week mark! More to come later...

Mailing address

c/o Fisher's Superkids English Center
99 Nguyen Van Linh
Da Nang, Vietnam

arrival and settling in

(An intersection near our house)

These days I'm feeling like a happy sheep—well-fed, well accommodated, and safe in the care of a good shepherd. Hai, the school director, has been incredibly attentive to our needs, giving us structure and guidance in our first few days here. With Hai, walking around the city, going to restaurants, and shopping have been full of adventure without fear.

We arrived in Danang last Thursday afternoon after smooth and comfortable travel, and a few hours' layover in the Hanoi airport that had made us suddenly aware of our foreignness. (That feeling continues.) The hot-wet air of Danang was full of smells that reminded me of Romania—exhaust, masonry, and oft-worn clothing. Hai and his right-hand man Simon greeted us with a colorful welcome sign. We loaded into a car for the short drive to our house, and I buckled my seatbelt as we merged in with the motorbikes and bicycles. Hai looked over, smiling, “Oh, those are illegal in Vietnam.”

Before our team arrived Hai was working to make our stay comfortable. We are blessed with a house that far exceeded our expectations. It's a 3-story townhouse on the corner of a block (starting one level up from the street) with four bathrooms, air conditioning, and a bedroom for each of us. The stairs are polished black stone, and off the second floor hallway is a little fountain and goldfish pond. A friend of Hai's who owns a successful car-renting business built the house six months ago and recently moved with his family to the US. The family's maid, Le (lay), comes every morning to clean and do laundry, and soon she will start on a schedule of shopping and cooking lunches for us. What a provision.

Our official orientation to Fisher's Superkids English Center (FSEC) began Monday at a coffee shop across the street, hearing from Hai about the school's vision and the teaching philosophy. Hai met his wife Teresa studying TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) in the US. They opened Fisher's this year. Private English centers like it are common, and a big business in Vietnam. FSEC's goal is to hire only native English Speakers and provide a Western-style learning atmosphere. Apart from us, the school has 2 part-time and 2 full-time teachers, all foreigners. Classes are in the evenings only now that regular school has started. I
will begin teaching this Friday evening and for the first several weeks have a light class load. Most of my students will be in the 7-12 age range. I've observed classes the last two nights, and I have to say I'm intimidated by the kids' energy! Learning classroom management will be a necessity.

Fisher's Superkids English Center is on a main business road, and like all the buildings around, is tall and narrow like one domino in the row. The first floor is a reception area and office, and the next 3 floors are classroom spaces. Three young Vietnamese women staff the office, dressed in matching blue skirts and blouses. Today we are beginning to meet with them a few minutes a day to help us learn the language. I'm looking forward to the relationships that will develop among the staff
and teachers.

On Saturday Hai took us to a famous city nearby called Hoi An. I'll let a few pictures do the describing:

(first two are Bryan's photos)

That's the main news for these days. I am filled with an overall excitement for what is to come, and grateful to have been given this opportunity. The wonderful care we have been under from Hai has reminded me of the real Shepherd who I can trust with my life. Perhaps as the stress level increases and inevitable difficulties come, I'll learn that more and more.

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Culture notes

Now that the important news is over, I can't resist adding some more observations. No obligations to read.

I've already discovered that Vietnam is a service-oriented society. At restaurants a small crowd of wait staff hovers around the table, reaching in to refill your tea glass or replace your dirty plate. Every store seems to have its own set of gatekeepers and security guards. When we rode an elevator, a sharply dressed lady ushered us in and pressed the button. At the school the office staff seem eager to do whatever they can to save our time.

Naptime. In the early afternoons, the heat and the mid-day lull make it no shame to take a short nap. I've seen a motorbike driver in the front of our house laying down balanced on his seat, hat over his face. At the market in Hoi An a woman dozed balancing across a small plank and a plastic chair, while the boat drivers rested on their canopied decks. Today after lunch we entered a clothing shop with the blue-uniformed guard passed out at the desk, and as Bryan and I looked through a rack of shirts we saw the heads of the two dozing clerks poking out from under the skirt rack. After a few minutes they emerged, looking tired and obligated to assist us.

The Vietnamese language is lovely to hear, a blend of subtle vowel combinations and soft consonants. It has six tones, which affect a word's meaning as much as the letters. Students of English have difficulty with word endings like “s” “d” and “t”. In school they learn plenty of English grammar and have dazzling penmanship, but since they rarely learn from native speakers, their speaking is very limited, and even long-time English students often have heavy accents. At Superkids it is a goal to focus mostly on pronunciation and fluency.

Proportions. Trash cans are few, small, and in hard to get to places. Plus they're well-decorated. One of ours is a pink kitty; another shows a picture of "Mr. Aligator" who says "happiness to everybody!" Today in the store we saw one shaped like a penguin that had written in red italics: "Garbage, please come in!"
Since the Vietnamese people are smaller than Americans, doorknobs and countertops are lower, and the rise of steps is a few inches shorter. It will take some getting used to.


I think I'm having a double cultural adjustment--not only to the Vietnamese culture, but to the the professional world. In rural VT the idea of well-dressed is a clean pair of Khakis and a button-down shirt. Danang is cosmopolitan comparitavely, and I've learned that I'll be wearing a tie and dress shoes to work every day. So I've been doing some shopping, and luckily, things are cheap. Yesterday I bought a nice new outfit for just under ten dollars.

itinerary and training reflections

Training is over!
I'm letting out a sigh of relief, having some time to relax and wind down, followed by a deep breath in to get ready for departure next Tuesday. There's been so much buildup and talk until this point. Now Vietnam is only a few days away.

Here is our team's flight itinerary:
(local times given)
Depart LAX August 23, 1:15 am: China Airlines flight #7 to Taipei
Arrive in Taipei August 24, 5:30 am
Depart August 24, 7:30 am: Vietnam Airlines flight #0925
Arrive in Hanoi 9:30 am
Depart 11:45 am: Vietnam Airlines flight #0315
Arrive in Da Nang 1:00 pm.

In Da Nang, our school administrator and host, Hai Huynh, will pick us up and help us get settled into the house the four of us will be sharing for the year. Hopefully we will have until the following Wednesday (Aug 30th) before we start teaching.


(Left: leading music for our final commencement ceremony and worship service)

Our evening teaching practicum concluded last week with a fiesta and some wonderful hispanic food and hospitality. Our students thanked us for our time and energy; we thanked them for giving us the opportunity to practice our teaching.

Last Saturday I went on an all-day hike into the Santa Anitas. We found some beautiful waterfalls and pools to cool off, and spent the time in between on dusty trails, seeing grouse and lizards and rabbits.

Thinking back over training, it's been a real whilrwind of a time. I feel as ready as I could expect to be for adjusting to a new culture, teaching English as a foreign language, and living with a team, but I know that preparations in this setting can only go so far. At this point, what I'm ready for is to find out myself.

The first few weeks of training were the heavy ones; these last few have been the reward. And while the atmosphere at training can't help but feel artificial and set apart from the real world, It's been a real privilege to get to know the other teachers and especially to hear their stories of getting to this point in their lives. I've gotten to know dynamic families with young children, older men whom I respect and appreciate, and peers with whom I share the same youthfull struggles and curiosities. What a sense of common purpose has developed between us all! As much as I am eager to be overseas, leaving this larger community behind will add another layer of difficulty to the transition.

In small groups for "manuscript study" (an inductive Bible study method) we just fininshed up the book of Philippians. I'll sign off with these verses that have been ringing in my ears:

Philippians 2:5-11
Your atitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God,
did not consider equality with God
something to be grasped,
but made himself nothing,
taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a man,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to death--
even death on a cross!
Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
and gave him the name that is above every name,
that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth
and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

old friends

My Friend Travis Moore was my first contact with TeachOverseas after he taught in Uzbekistan from '04-'05. He and Amber (his wife since last December) were students at SUNY Potsdam while I was at St. Lawrence. We went to the same church and our campus fellowship groups often mixed. This year they are going to Morocco together with TeachOverseas, which took me by surprise when I arrived at training! It's been great to reconnect and have some common memories.

Pasadena - first stop

(Sunset at the William Carey International University campus, where training is held. The building in the lower left is my dorm.)

Today ended the second full week of training, and full they are. In the days we spend time with our country teams, we have sessions on TEFL (teaching English as a foreign language) and we learn about team dynamics and what to expect for cross-cultural living. In the evenings we go off campus for teaching practicum to where some local churches and community centers offer English classes to immigrants. I have taught three times so far, feeling a bit stretched, and thankful I can hit the worst of the learning curve before it really counts. (Our practicum students have been middle-aged and elderly adults from Iraq, Lebanon, Armenia, and Mexico. Not quite the same as I'll have in Vietnam.)

It is thrilling to be in one place with all the other teachers, about a hundred in total, headed soon for China, Central Europe, the CIS, Russia, Morocco, and Vietnam. We're a diverse bunch, from different parts of the country, denominational backgrounds, personalities, and ages. Many are recent college grads like me, but there are several families, a few newlywed couples, and a few 40+ singles. We all have had good times of laughter, worship, and learning. I am impressed by the quality and depth of character of the TeachOverseas staff, who are preparing us very well (I hope) for life overseas, and have contagious vision for what God can do with a handful of willing people.

The four smiling faces here is our team of four going to teach in the city of Danang. Left to right: me, Dawn (OK), Nicky (IA), and Bryan (WA). We will live in a house together and teach at “Fisher's Superkids English Center” for kids ages 4 to 15. The site is completely new to TeachOverseas, and in fact, this will be the school's first year in operation, with us as its first full time teachers. I wonder if we'll be local celebrities. (Click on the picture if you'd like a closer look at the faces.)

A man named Bill, back from his second year teaching in Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City), has been a great resource in telling us what to expect of the culture, our students, and life as a foreigner in Vietnam. For instance: Vietnam's education system is all about memorizing answers to tests, so students are slow to give their opinion or speak in class. A haircut will by default include a full face-shaving and an ear-cleaning. On the streets you can find great fruit smoothies and iced coffees. We're never quite sure what will apply to our own situation in Danang, but it's fun to hear about anyway.

A few other notes: I've been helping with the worship team, which has been a great outlet and a way to feel useful to others here. It's been hot out here—last weekend well over 100, and in the 90s early this past week.I suppose that's good preparation for Vietnam. No A/C in my room, which is also good prep.

It is sinking in that I will be gone for a year, loosening ties with home and making them some other place. It's an exciting, nervous, new kind of feeling. I can tell that God is working among those emotions to grow me in new ways, for one, in focusing less on myself. It has been easy to think of this coming year as an experience, an opportunity, an adventure. I believe it will be all of those, but I need to be reminded that my purpose is to serve.

I send out a big thank you to all you who have and continue to support me. Just being here in Pasadena thinking about what is ahead gives me renewed appreciation for you all. I look forward to sharing this year with you in words and pictures.

God is good.