"COACH"
So I have this friend and she has seven children. Yes, one more than me. :) I'm not sure why I'm writing this post except that I think it's important to have friends that love your heart. People that cant be honest with you and encourage you to dream. And not just dream, but live your dreams with you. I'm blessed in this season of life (hasn't always been this way - many years of praying them in) to have close friends who speak truth to me and are just about as crazy as I am...and I do crazy really well. This post is about living an adventure. Everyone should do that no matter what season of life you find yourself.
So Anda and me, we have a lot in common: married young, have a lot of children, serve at the same church, love books, coffee, not so *big* on what we're wearing (although that might change once spit up and poop aren't a regular accessory;) and adventure.
Then we have a lot that isn't "in common" at all: she lives in the "hood" to build a bridge between the Church and the poor, I live in a crunchy/revitalizing part of town and I'm just trying to reach my next door neighbors while she dreams and pursues changing her whole neighborhood, she appreciates the melancholy - reflective parts of life and I don't - I just want people to "get over it", she likes bright colors and I like muted tones, she's blonde and skinny and DOESN'T HAVE TO PLUCK HER EYEBROWS!!!! Oh, the injustice of it all! ;)
So I have a cousin who is like a sister and I want to be her when I grow up. She is exceptional at everything and she's beautiful. Ok, that's not fair either, BUT anyway - she invited me and Anda to NYC to encourage some moms who were in ministry and tired of people really. Really that's what it always boils down to. We just get tired of people. Tired of the kids, the spouse, the people who "need" you. Go away! So I guess Anda and I thought we might have something to say to these tired mom - tired of people. So we went to NYC.
So Anda was nursing no. 7 at the time of our trip and was close to weaning, but nooooot quite there. So she left baby with daddy and the other six kids and formula. And we brought the breast pump. Mercy, Jesus. That's always a fun piece of equipment to get through security.
We got on the plane and you'd think we would just fall asleep. You know - lots of kids make you tired. But the thing about tired momma's is that more than anything in America ~ they're lonely. So we talked for the whole plane ride. We talked about kids and what we would say to these other tired mommas with kids who want to see Jesus come and touch this Earth and make it new. And how we had to find Anda's friend a COACH bag.
After we landed we got a taxi (why is that scary?? especially in NYC) because no matter how scared you might be to get a taxi in NYC it's even MORE scary to get on the subway. Oh, and we didn't know much of anything about our hotel we'd booked on one of those all inclusive packages online. But we did have an address and money for a cab.
Our taxi driver told us his whole story when started asking about him and NYC. It wasn't the typical American dream story he had hoped to write when he came here, but he wasn't going anywhere. I think that's when I fell in love with New Yorkers. They have a fierce grit to them. Determination doesn't even begin to describe what it takes to live in that city. And surprisingly, they're super friendly. :)
Ok - so we make it to our hotel. A small, but pretty lobby and nice staff. Get our key and make our way to the elevator...and wait forever and ever. If you ever stay in a hotel in NYC that's older than say 1980...don't ride the elevator. Ever. Because if you're like Anda and me and a magnet for "odd" you might just find yourself stuck in a small, supernaturally slow elevator with old men who speak in Russian accents, dress like the maffia while they tell you how beautiful you are and how much they appreciate women alllll the way down to the lobby. It only took us a few trips in that ancient piece of equipment to learn that it's easier to run up and down six floors of stairs and way less scary. But what we didn't know that first day is that there are way more than one weirdo man in NYC who absolutely DO NOT care that you and your friend have collectively birthed THIRTEEN CHILDREN! Creepers as my children say. Especially, Skinny Vinny - not joking, a whole other blog. Just know that he loved Anda and had waited on her his whole life. ;)
I'm not going to say a lot about our room except that we're pretty sure that's where Anda found her hate for bedbugs. Those hearty little suckers made it all the way back to the Lone Star State and made their home in Anda's. Use your imagination about our hotel room and you're probably not too far off.
The crazy thing about mommys getting away is that they miss their kids. So laying there that first night in this beautiful city we thought about our homes and our children and wondered how our husbands were managing. That next morning we woke to car horns and people walking in the halls and wondering what we'd say to encourage these moms.
I can't remember for sure, but I think we were there for three days. They kind of all blended together with the sights of an international city, LOTS of walking and feeling like we didn't know what we were doing most of the time. But Beth - the one I want to be like when I grow up - is traveled and knows everything there is to know about New York. She showed us Central Park, sweet bakeries, the subway (no words), Broadway, Brooklyn Bridge, the best pizza place in NYC, Little Italy and then...China Town.
Anda and I were able to encourage the moms gathered to hear what these women from Texas had to say. I think we encouraged them - maybe stretched them a bit too when it came to Jesus and how we relate to Him. We prayed with them - saw a young mom's leg grow. True story. And then we left knowing we had come to do what He asked.
As our trip came to an end Anda said "I have to find a knock off COACH bag for Candice." There was an unusual urgency to her voice - Anda doesn't do "urgent"...seven children show you a different way. It's feels more like the end of a marathon...after "the wall", you know you'll get there and you're too tired to fight it so you don't. But this was different. While we had been having our little adventure Anda's sweet husband, Randy, had been trying to convince the youngest Brown baby that she really did like formula. PJ wasn't agreeable to that and resolute that mama's milk would only do. So Candice was nursing her baby and pumped extra for little PJ. Yeah, had to get a COACH for Candice.
We were both exhausted from all the walking and the emotionally shocking experience called the subway - no words - but this COACH bag was a must. So hauling our tired bodies back down to China town was the only option. But at least we'd have Beth. She'd make it not so scary. Later when we talked with Beth about going back down to China Town her eyes kinda glazed over and we knew we were going to be finding our way across this old island by ourselves. I think that's when our brains fell out of our heads. Because what happened next doesn't make sense. At all.
Imagine two women who have mothered enough children that you could start a small day care. They're exhausted. They miss their families. They have NO idea of how to get around on the subway and then stick them both out on the sidewalk in New York and tell them they have to make their way to China Town and find a knock off named brand purse. I wish I could say that the adventure was the subway ride, but alas ~ no.
We did find our way through the labyrinth of trains to China Town, walked up the stairs to the hot sidewalk (did I mention it was hotter in NYC than it was back home - not fair) to the crush of humanity that is China Town. Beth said to look for the people walking along quietly saying "COACH, Gucci..." and that we would find what we are looking for because you can't just walk into a store and find these things...BECAUSE IT'S ILLEGAL!!!!! This is where I should stop and say "So we just made our way back up to our hotel in Upper Manhattan and talked about how people buying these slave labor items should be put in jail." But nooooooo...remember, we were tired and we weren't thinking straight to say the least.
Anda and I talk about how much more grace we have for our teens when they reply "I don't know." to questions about the stupid things they do. They really don't know and I believe them.
We found the people Beth said to look for and followed one older Asian woman. She asked what we wanted and told us to wait. So we waited on the steps of an old church. Oh, my stars! The irony!!!! Still, it's not clicking for me that this is wrong. Illegal. A part of promoting poverty and going against, I'm sure, every labor law I have strong convictions about today. None of that is in my mind. I'm just SCARED TO DEATH that a policemen will come and take me away.
The lady brings the purse out and the COACH label is sew on so sideways there's no way we're buying it. She's sad, but we walk away. After awhile we start going into stores and asking "COACH?" of course the owners shake their heads NO and we keep going. But after one store I walk out and down the street. I hear someone behind me saying "COACH" and it's the lady from the store. We follow her into the nice, clean store with bags hanging on the wall and I think "Oh, this will be easy and they have AC." Well, no.
A man from the back of the store motions for us to follow him. We look at each other. Nothing is clicking. Women abducted - sex slavery - nothing. When you've had this many kids you don't think anyone would look at you that way. So we follow him. (This is where my mother is rolling her eyes - sorry, mom;)
After following him past two doors that have these hightech locks on them - the kind from a scifi movie - we CRAWL, yes, CRAWL through fake walls into this tiny room with COACH bags hanging from the wall. Things are starting to click for us and like waking from a dream we are near panic. Anda quickly starts looking for bags and I'm trying to plan how we are going to kill this guy if he tries anything.
We find a hot pink, leather COACH bag and ask how much. He says "$50" and Anda who this whole trip has been talking about being awful at haggling decides that NOW is the time to be firm. NOW, while we are stuck in the back of a store in China Town doing something illegal she decides that she will hone her bartering skills. This is where her thick skin of living in "the hood"and weathering childhood diseases through seven children decides shows up - she's not scared, but I'm terrified. She says "No. I only have two $20's." and stares at him.
Anda doesn't weigh 90 pounds dripping wet and I'm shocked and looking at her my eyes begging, "Please tell me this isn't happening." He says "No, $50." and she counters "No, I just have these two $20's." I'm more than a bit taken aback...while I'm proud of her resolute bartering, two things are going through my head: 1. I don't want to die in a tiny shop in China Town and 2. We are not leaving this store without that bag after all of this! So this is where I say "Here, I have a $10..." and we pay and we leave.
We make it out to the street. The sun is bright and makes us squint. We don't talk. We start running. We run all the way to the subway. The subway is now a piece a cake. Nothing can top what we just went through. We run through the doors and sit down, shaking. Still not talking. The train pulls out of China Town and Anda begins to laugh. She laughed the whole way back to Times Square I think. It took me awhile to find the humor, but we had Candice's pink purse and we weren't dead or being prostituted in Siberia. We were happy.
On the plane home we recounted our trip and even just typing it our here I am laughing at the adventure of it all. I love how God brings us together. I love how He writes best sellers with our lives if we let Him. So find a friend and buy a ticket to New York.
So Anda and me, we have a lot in common: married young, have a lot of children, serve at the same church, love books, coffee, not so *big* on what we're wearing (although that might change once spit up and poop aren't a regular accessory;) and adventure.
Then we have a lot that isn't "in common" at all: she lives in the "hood" to build a bridge between the Church and the poor, I live in a crunchy/revitalizing part of town and I'm just trying to reach my next door neighbors while she dreams and pursues changing her whole neighborhood, she appreciates the melancholy - reflective parts of life and I don't - I just want people to "get over it", she likes bright colors and I like muted tones, she's blonde and skinny and DOESN'T HAVE TO PLUCK HER EYEBROWS!!!! Oh, the injustice of it all! ;)
So I have a cousin who is like a sister and I want to be her when I grow up. She is exceptional at everything and she's beautiful. Ok, that's not fair either, BUT anyway - she invited me and Anda to NYC to encourage some moms who were in ministry and tired of people really. Really that's what it always boils down to. We just get tired of people. Tired of the kids, the spouse, the people who "need" you. Go away! So I guess Anda and I thought we might have something to say to these tired mom - tired of people. So we went to NYC.
Two moms with a love for people and adventure who have a collective 13 children, set them loose in NYC. Yeah, I could stop here. Let's just say that tired mothers who love adventure in a huge city of the nations will not render your "normal"NYC visit.
So Anda was nursing no. 7 at the time of our trip and was close to weaning, but nooooot quite there. So she left baby with daddy and the other six kids and formula. And we brought the breast pump. Mercy, Jesus. That's always a fun piece of equipment to get through security.
We got on the plane and you'd think we would just fall asleep. You know - lots of kids make you tired. But the thing about tired momma's is that more than anything in America ~ they're lonely. So we talked for the whole plane ride. We talked about kids and what we would say to these other tired mommas with kids who want to see Jesus come and touch this Earth and make it new. And how we had to find Anda's friend a COACH bag.
After we landed we got a taxi (why is that scary?? especially in NYC) because no matter how scared you might be to get a taxi in NYC it's even MORE scary to get on the subway. Oh, and we didn't know much of anything about our hotel we'd booked on one of those all inclusive packages online. But we did have an address and money for a cab.
Our taxi driver told us his whole story when started asking about him and NYC. It wasn't the typical American dream story he had hoped to write when he came here, but he wasn't going anywhere. I think that's when I fell in love with New Yorkers. They have a fierce grit to them. Determination doesn't even begin to describe what it takes to live in that city. And surprisingly, they're super friendly. :)
Ok - so we make it to our hotel. A small, but pretty lobby and nice staff. Get our key and make our way to the elevator...and wait forever and ever. If you ever stay in a hotel in NYC that's older than say 1980...don't ride the elevator. Ever. Because if you're like Anda and me and a magnet for "odd" you might just find yourself stuck in a small, supernaturally slow elevator with old men who speak in Russian accents, dress like the maffia while they tell you how beautiful you are and how much they appreciate women alllll the way down to the lobby. It only took us a few trips in that ancient piece of equipment to learn that it's easier to run up and down six floors of stairs and way less scary. But what we didn't know that first day is that there are way more than one weirdo man in NYC who absolutely DO NOT care that you and your friend have collectively birthed THIRTEEN CHILDREN! Creepers as my children say. Especially, Skinny Vinny - not joking, a whole other blog. Just know that he loved Anda and had waited on her his whole life. ;)
I'm not going to say a lot about our room except that we're pretty sure that's where Anda found her hate for bedbugs. Those hearty little suckers made it all the way back to the Lone Star State and made their home in Anda's. Use your imagination about our hotel room and you're probably not too far off.
The crazy thing about mommys getting away is that they miss their kids. So laying there that first night in this beautiful city we thought about our homes and our children and wondered how our husbands were managing. That next morning we woke to car horns and people walking in the halls and wondering what we'd say to encourage these moms.
I can't remember for sure, but I think we were there for three days. They kind of all blended together with the sights of an international city, LOTS of walking and feeling like we didn't know what we were doing most of the time. But Beth - the one I want to be like when I grow up - is traveled and knows everything there is to know about New York. She showed us Central Park, sweet bakeries, the subway (no words), Broadway, Brooklyn Bridge, the best pizza place in NYC, Little Italy and then...China Town.
Anda and I were able to encourage the moms gathered to hear what these women from Texas had to say. I think we encouraged them - maybe stretched them a bit too when it came to Jesus and how we relate to Him. We prayed with them - saw a young mom's leg grow. True story. And then we left knowing we had come to do what He asked.
As our trip came to an end Anda said "I have to find a knock off COACH bag for Candice." There was an unusual urgency to her voice - Anda doesn't do "urgent"...seven children show you a different way. It's feels more like the end of a marathon...after "the wall", you know you'll get there and you're too tired to fight it so you don't. But this was different. While we had been having our little adventure Anda's sweet husband, Randy, had been trying to convince the youngest Brown baby that she really did like formula. PJ wasn't agreeable to that and resolute that mama's milk would only do. So Candice was nursing her baby and pumped extra for little PJ. Yeah, had to get a COACH for Candice.
We were both exhausted from all the walking and the emotionally shocking experience called the subway - no words - but this COACH bag was a must. So hauling our tired bodies back down to China town was the only option. But at least we'd have Beth. She'd make it not so scary. Later when we talked with Beth about going back down to China Town her eyes kinda glazed over and we knew we were going to be finding our way across this old island by ourselves. I think that's when our brains fell out of our heads. Because what happened next doesn't make sense. At all.
Imagine two women who have mothered enough children that you could start a small day care. They're exhausted. They miss their families. They have NO idea of how to get around on the subway and then stick them both out on the sidewalk in New York and tell them they have to make their way to China Town and find a knock off named brand purse. I wish I could say that the adventure was the subway ride, but alas ~ no.
We did find our way through the labyrinth of trains to China Town, walked up the stairs to the hot sidewalk (did I mention it was hotter in NYC than it was back home - not fair) to the crush of humanity that is China Town. Beth said to look for the people walking along quietly saying "COACH, Gucci..." and that we would find what we are looking for because you can't just walk into a store and find these things...BECAUSE IT'S ILLEGAL!!!!! This is where I should stop and say "So we just made our way back up to our hotel in Upper Manhattan and talked about how people buying these slave labor items should be put in jail." But nooooooo...remember, we were tired and we weren't thinking straight to say the least.
Anda and I talk about how much more grace we have for our teens when they reply "I don't know." to questions about the stupid things they do. They really don't know and I believe them.
We found the people Beth said to look for and followed one older Asian woman. She asked what we wanted and told us to wait. So we waited on the steps of an old church. Oh, my stars! The irony!!!! Still, it's not clicking for me that this is wrong. Illegal. A part of promoting poverty and going against, I'm sure, every labor law I have strong convictions about today. None of that is in my mind. I'm just SCARED TO DEATH that a policemen will come and take me away.
The lady brings the purse out and the COACH label is sew on so sideways there's no way we're buying it. She's sad, but we walk away. After awhile we start going into stores and asking "COACH?" of course the owners shake their heads NO and we keep going. But after one store I walk out and down the street. I hear someone behind me saying "COACH" and it's the lady from the store. We follow her into the nice, clean store with bags hanging on the wall and I think "Oh, this will be easy and they have AC." Well, no.
A man from the back of the store motions for us to follow him. We look at each other. Nothing is clicking. Women abducted - sex slavery - nothing. When you've had this many kids you don't think anyone would look at you that way. So we follow him. (This is where my mother is rolling her eyes - sorry, mom;)
After following him past two doors that have these hightech locks on them - the kind from a scifi movie - we CRAWL, yes, CRAWL through fake walls into this tiny room with COACH bags hanging from the wall. Things are starting to click for us and like waking from a dream we are near panic. Anda quickly starts looking for bags and I'm trying to plan how we are going to kill this guy if he tries anything.
We find a hot pink, leather COACH bag and ask how much. He says "$50" and Anda who this whole trip has been talking about being awful at haggling decides that NOW is the time to be firm. NOW, while we are stuck in the back of a store in China Town doing something illegal she decides that she will hone her bartering skills. This is where her thick skin of living in "the hood"and weathering childhood diseases through seven children decides shows up - she's not scared, but I'm terrified. She says "No. I only have two $20's." and stares at him.
Anda doesn't weigh 90 pounds dripping wet and I'm shocked and looking at her my eyes begging, "Please tell me this isn't happening." He says "No, $50." and she counters "No, I just have these two $20's." I'm more than a bit taken aback...while I'm proud of her resolute bartering, two things are going through my head: 1. I don't want to die in a tiny shop in China Town and 2. We are not leaving this store without that bag after all of this! So this is where I say "Here, I have a $10..." and we pay and we leave.
We make it out to the street. The sun is bright and makes us squint. We don't talk. We start running. We run all the way to the subway. The subway is now a piece a cake. Nothing can top what we just went through. We run through the doors and sit down, shaking. Still not talking. The train pulls out of China Town and Anda begins to laugh. She laughed the whole way back to Times Square I think. It took me awhile to find the humor, but we had Candice's pink purse and we weren't dead or being prostituted in Siberia. We were happy.
On the plane home we recounted our trip and even just typing it our here I am laughing at the adventure of it all. I love how God brings us together. I love how He writes best sellers with our lives if we let Him. So find a friend and buy a ticket to New York.
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