Another week has come and gone.

Just one week ago, two members of our small family abruptly move to Wuhan. Their arrival into our lives the term before had been a gift, a sign that the work we were doing was wholly good, and so we begin to doubt. The night we find out, I fall asleep whispering pleas to Him for encouragement.

The next morning, a sister is born.

Days ago, that same sister abruptly finds out the job she has applied for, has a position ready for her. We try to keep our heads high, still excited for the new life she has chosen, and glad for her success in finding work. So, we say our goodbyes and she moves on.


This morning, we meet with our Sunday Crew, trying not to notice who isn't there. No extra chairs have to be pulled forward, no one needs the lesson interpreted. And then a friend tells us he wants to be our brother. And I look around the room at the rest of my Yichang family soaking in the elation of the moment.

You know, what's funny? Going in, he hit his head. Hard. But he's ready to give it another go. And so we try again. This time he tilts his head forward, and is finally fully immersed in His commitment. And we sing and hurriedly swipe at the tears, knowing full well the wonderful joy that comes despite the bumps. And quite inexplicably, the room is full, again.

Perspectives. Proportions.. Purpose...

There are days when the catastrophes of the world make one realize how small and weak a single pair of limbs are, a single pair of eyes, a single mind… heart. When you’re any twenty-something year old, how spiritless would you be if you didn’t feel as though the world was your stinkin’ oyster? Or that you, and you alone, had the ability to change the world- To truly make a difference. But it’s times like these that the goals that consume much of my day (i.e. today's list- plan class, eat lunch with friends, learn 5 Chinese characters, read, do laundry, floss) seem so menial. Well, they are so menial. I recently learned of the fifth largest earthquake occurrence in Chile. Soon after- one in Argentina. How many people were sleeping soundly when their homes caved on top of them? OH, Dear Lord. Thousands are mourning the loss of loved ones in South America, meanwhile, outside my window, a deafening display of firecrackers is setting off car alarms as the people of China celebrate the Lantern Festival. As Alanis would say: isn’t ironic… don’t ya think?

Last week, while the rest of my family gathered for my grandmother’s funeral in Texas, I was gallivanting around India, having the time of my life.

Sometimes I let myself slip into a darkness, in which I feel so helpless. So useless. And I wonder… what can I do, anyway? Here I am in a foreign land, teaching classes to students that don’t care about their English, and sharing His teachings with people, most of whom believe it holds no personal truth for their lives. Am I wasting my time? Maybe I should be cleaning up the rubble in Chile. Or, at least, I should be home, throwing my arms around my Daddy’s neck, and assuring him I won’t leave him, too. You know, really making a difference. Doing some good.

And it’s in these moments, when the words begin creeping into my thoughts- "Just give up. It's too much. What can you do, anyway? You can't even open a coke bottle with your scrawny hands!"- But something, or someone, reminds me - I’m not doing it alone. I’m not alone. And I take comfort in these words, that I hope will encourage you, as well:

"…Commit to the LORD whatever you do, and your plans will succeed…"

"….Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us…"

Or, as Jewel would put it: My hands they’re small, I know; but they’re not yours, they are my own... And they are never broken.

I’m small, I know; but there's nothing small about my God.





Rest in our love and His peace, Grandma Joyce.

La dee dee, it's Poetry

So, I looked at my pathetic blog and realized it needed to be spiced up a bit. I considered filling my online journal in on the Holidays... on the recent trip to Beijing (maybe I'll post pictures)... but as I pondered what to write, I decided to write a poem about writing. I'm new at this. But poetry is kinda fun, so yippee yi yay. And since I don't allow comments on my blog you can't trash my writing or think I'm fishing for approval- which gives me courage.


I want to Write


I want to write.
I want to write something eloquent.
Fashioning my thoughts
Into words
Perfectly.

I want to write.
I want to write something nonchalant.
Slapping my emotions
On Paper
Carelessly.

I want to write.
I want to write something beautiful.
Making your eye glimmer,
Your lip quiver,
Tremulously.

I want to write.
I want to write something daring.
Challenging your raised eyebrow,
Your suppositions,
Bluntly.

I want to write.
I want to write something funny.
Tickling your ribs
Until you admit I’m
Witty.

I want to write.
I want to write something meaningful.
Weaving something worthy
Of reading
Thoroughly.

I want to write.
I want to write something simple.
Smoothing your brow.
You can breathe
Easily.


I want to write.
I want to write something grandiose.
Stabbing at that which is unattainable
And doing so
Humbly.

I want to write.
I want to write something for me.
Observing merely the minute details
Between sunrise and fall
Accurately.

I want to write.
I want to write something for you.
Pulling your head
Onto my Shoulder
Tenderly.

I want to write
I want to write… something.
Hoping only that you
Will Read It
Willingly.

Note to self:

In China, "Coffee Shop" may very well mean "bar". So when someone asks you (or Zack) to come out to their coffee shop, they may be inviting you to go a loud, smoky bar that serves alcohol and no coffee, but has a sign in the front that reads "Coffee Shop."

I'm a person, ya know!

Sometimes I feel like I'm just a commodity to my Chinese friends. I just want to know who actually wants to be my friend-- Jessica Custer's friend, more than a foreigner's friend. I thought I could tell the difference, but I'm not so sure.

I guess it's just been one of those days.

It's been a little tough staying positive over here during the Holidays. Your prayers are appreciated. HE is good.

Happy Thanksgiving!! (So what if it's the day after?)

This year, I'm thankful for...

Chickity China the Chinese Chicken. Yes, chicken. You're not Turkey, but you're close enough.

My siblings and friends in the States. You write me emails, you send me facebook messages, you pray for me, you talk to me on Skype, you demand my mailing address from me, and if you're reading this, you even read my blog.

My family in China--Katie, Elizabeth, and Zack. How lonely, discouraged, bored, and hungry I would be without you all. And that is the truth. You are each caring, fun, encouraging, and incredibly giving. I have so much to learn from you.

My parents. Although you wholeheartedly wish I lived closer and secretly wish I would get married, you are incredibly supportive of my being here. :) You send me expensive packages, you'll drop anything you're doing if I'm homesick and talk to me on Skype, and you tell me you're proud of me (which always makes me choke up). What wonderful parents I have.

My Father. Who knew that I would grow closer to HIM in a land that knows HIM not? My love deepens each day that I teach of HIS love to my students. I am so overwhelmed as I write this list of all that I am thankful for. For HE has given me so much...

And lastly, Western Toilets. Self-explanatory.

The Perfect Gift

Dedicated to Elizabeth.

November 19, 2009. Yichang, China. It was a cold, fall day. But not just any day. It was Elizabeth's birthday. And Katie and I, after weeks of contemplation and hours of shopping (Exaggeration? Perrrrhaps.), had settled on purchasing a turtle for Elizabeth. Yes, it was the perfect gift. We could already envision the way Elizabeth would light up and her husband, Zack, would grimace at the sight of it. We were pleased.

The plan was as follows: Katie and I both had morning classes, being that I am domestically challenged, Katie would begin cooking preparations for the lunchtime party that would take place at our apartment whilst I hopped on a bus to Children's Park where I could make the purchase of a turtle family to bring back just in time for the birthday celebration at 1:00 PM and, thus, give Elizabeth the ultimate birthday surprise. It was infallible. Or, was it?

11:40 AM: As planned, I leave after my second morning class and promptly catch bus #23, slightly aware of the fact that a visit to the Ladies Room will be warranted in the near future.

12:00 PM: Upon arrival to Children's Park, I began to get really cold. This does not help the situation of the full bladder. But I'm still not exactly a fan of the squatty potty, so I decide to hold out. I approach the previous location, where only days before there had been an abundance of teeny, tiny turtles for sale, but to my dismay, there are only fish. I immediately realize that we had recently undergone a cold front, no doubt from the icy winds blasting from our Northern friend, Mongolia, and fear this temperature change must have seasonally done away with the numerous green, shelled reptilians that usually lined the streets in their little bowls.

12:10 PM: I do not know even know how to ask where I could purchase one since I can't say "turtle" in Chinese, so I pull out my phone and call Katie. No answer. I do not panic. I am Jess Cus. Chill as the air I am breathing. Immediately, I see a cute shop and am, once again, filled with hope. I buy the birthday girl a pink tiara (muahaha) and some nail polish. But, alas, this is no suitable replacement for a turtle. At this point, the urge is becoming bothersome. I throw the money at the woman and leave, starting to feel nervous about finding a suitable gift in time.

12:20 PM: I exit the shop and walk around a bit more, wondering if I was right about the previous location being the spot that I'd seen turtles at before. As I walk, I take a long look at a sign with an arrow pointing towards the WC. But I press on. There is no time to waste. (No pun intended.)

12:25 PM: I call Katie, again. No answer. I risk the chance of Elizabeth being with her husband, and call Zack. I ask him if she would like fish. "Umm. I don't know. I don't think so." I ask him what I should do. "Well, there's a pet store somewhere.." I ask him if he knows where, "Uhh.. No.." Just when I begin to doubt his usefulness, he provides me with the Chinese word for turtle (乌龟 or "wu gui"). Xie xie, Zachary.

I actually know how to ask where something is, but somehow this slips my mind, and I begin to walk around asking people if they speak English. Every person I approach just looks at me, startled and confused to be approached by a foreigner and as they walk away I begin to frantically shout "Wu giu? Wu gui?!" The fact that I have seriously gotta go is getting to my head. I realize I'm scaring people, and decide to rethink my current course of action.

12:30 PM: Another call to Katie. No luck. I look at the time, and I think I actually say out loud, "Elizabeth, you're getting fish--and you will like it." I march back across Children's Park to the booth where the selection of gold and black fish are swimming happily in water, two of which are unaware of the terrifying ride of their lives they will shortly undergo. Poor suckers.

I haphazardly point out two fish: "Zhe ge, zhe ge" (this one, this one), ready to quickly make the purchase and find a toilet of refuge. I start looking around to see if I can find a restroom nearby--there it is. The stick figure woman shines in the sun. Like the pearly gates, it beckons me, and although I am not there yet, and the road to get there seems long, painful and, at times, impossible, I have faith that I will make it. The lady behind the table has already scooped out my two fish but is pointing at the swollen eye of one of them--apparently I've picked one that is less than perfect. I try to tell her that the fish is fine (who am I to discriminate?) but she continues to argue with me in Chinese, so I give in, and she happily dumps the less than perfect one back in the tank, and nets another.

12:35 PM: Like everything in China, this is not going as quickly as I had hoped. In a moment of insanity, I actually wonder if I can hold it out any longer. Never has giving up looked so appealing. At least it'd be.. warm.. I push the thought from my mind. MUST. PRESS. ON.

I am vaguely aware that little Chinese man and woman are giving me choices for a bowl, some colorful rocks, and fish food and I just keep saying, "Hao, hao, hao" and waving my hands impatiently. I try to ask for them to put the fish in a bag, like they do at carnivals, so I won't have to carry a bowl full of water, but they just put a bag around the bowl full of water. Whatever. "Duo shao qian?" I say as I rummage through my purse. I realize I can't even stand still anymore and the people are looking at me like I have two heads as I try with all my might to conceal the fact that I am doing a little dance that I'm pretty sure I haven't done since I was three. I don't hear how much they say so I just throw money at them, they hand me my change hurriedly as they can tell that something is wrong. I grab the bowl and the fish goods and make a dash for the stick figure lady and throw back, "Thank you!" (Probably in English.)

12:40 PM: I'm pretty sure the sloshing water in the fish bowl is not helping matters. But I am almost there, and for a moment, I think I'm going to make it--and then I round the corner and am stopped by some ladies behind a counter demanding money for my right to pee in a private place. At this point I don't even try to hide my urgency. I grab some money while I dance, throw it at them, throw my fish bowl at the lady, and fly past the ladies who are now laughing hysterically at me.

The deed is done. I walk out with my head held high, and a smile on my face. The ladies laugh at me, once again. But I don't even care. Not having to go has never felt so good. I nod my head at them and go on my way to the party, second-rate gift in hand, and feeling victorious.