Never Say Never

The woman sitting across from Kara stretches her arms wide, as to create emphasis. "Kara," she says, "Do you realize that, on one hand, you are completely spontaneous, facing what many people fear with excitement and enjoyment, relishing the unplanned adventures, and on the polar opposite end, cling to a suffocating control and structure that has wanted to choke out any and all of the beauty in life that you so desperately are searching?"

That would be a quite accurate observation.

Kara is an anomaly, not following the normal post-college life that many of her friends have chosen with marriages, homes, kids, and office jobs. "I thought I wanted all of that right out of college, but really, I had no idea. In God's wisdom, I didn't get what I hoped for, and how I thought my life would be is very, very different from my current reality. I am very blessed and thankful that God knows best and that my plans didn't happen," she says.

If you told Kara four years ago that she would be a flight attendant, living in Los Angeles, in a quaint beach apartment, having traveled to Haiti, Costa Rica, Honduras, Belize, Hawaii, British Columbia, Germany, Czech Republic, Amsterdam, Belgium, Guatemala, all in the span of one year, as well as developing a strategy to take a little tortilla company mainstream, she would have looked at you and asked if you were feeling ok...or if you were smoking crack.

She never wanted to be a flight attendant, had no desire to live in LA, and traveling that much seemed too unbelievably awesome. "I remember flying out of LAX as a passenger years ago, taking a red-eye out, noticing the flight attendants, and thinking, 'I'd hate to do that job.' It's crazy for me to think of how I actually love my job, how I like LA, and how lucky I am to have made a great community of friends."

To Kara, flying is still "just a job," and her passion, and what she knows to be her future, is Created Whole. Her creativity, enthusiasm, and natural interest in people, combined with a degree in Marketing, have created a natural fit as Lead of Marketing and Promotions. "I believe in our company. I can't imagine my life without tortillas, and honestly, I don't know how other people live without them either. They shouldn't have to. My personal mission is that people no longer be without an awesome tasting whole wheat tortilla," she says with a laugh.

In Kara's "fun time", she enjoys riding her Cannondale road-bike, spending time with friends, and dreaming up the next adventure. The "Must-See List" includes Italy, Chile, Israel, and Thailand, and the chart toppers for the "Must-Do List" are learning Spanish, sky-diving, and biking from Canada to Mexico.

Full-Time Tim

Tortillas eventually, or more like, initially enter most social conversations. It's so hard not to talk about Created Whole for us, because this company is something that we are so passionate about.

Tortillas travel everywhere with us. A couple of weeks ago, the flight attendants of the family (Brenda and Kara), were grabbing lunch at Baja Fresh at LAX, and the young woman in line just happened to ask, "Do you ladies know if they have whole wheat tortillas?" Smiling, Kara says, "No they don't, but I do," while rapidly explaining about the tortilla business, and frantically trying to find a business card. Not having any business cards and only two tortillas left, she handed over the tortillas with the website written on a napkin. This business has comical moments to say the least.

Tim received a phone call last week from a woman who says she's praying for us to get into Trader Joe's and praying that we will be successful. She loves the tortillas. Stories like this have been happening for us everyday. From the random people we encounter, to our regular customers at farmer's market, we need these affirmations.

This past week, Brenda was in Santa Barbara for work, and Tim was in Utah or somewhere, and Kara was enjoying the wonderful island of Oahu. Our lives are a little nutso. It's a challenge to build a business when there isn't someone dedicating all of their time to just tortillas. Three months ago, we set a goal that Tim would be our full-time employee by the end of the summer. We've needed him full-time for awhile, but he hasn't wanted to let go of the security of his job. So, it's the end of the summer.

Every time the three of us (Tim, Brenda, Kara) get together to talk about the future of tortillas, each one of us has a, "You'll-never-guess-what-just-happened-to-me-story." There some pretty exciting opportunities "in-the-works" right now that can't be shared at this time on such a public forum, but the one thing I can say, is that things look good. There's a lot to be done. So much so, that we had an intervention with Tim, and he's done working for anyone but Created Whole.

Congratulate Tim on his new position as full-time Director of Operations/Production!

Trust, Hope, and Haiti

I went to Haiti last week. My flight attendant benefits and fairly flexible schedule allowed me the opportunity to join my Uncle, and his family, along with a group of medical volunteers at the Adventist hospital located just outside Port-au-Prince.

I was hoping that I could be useful in some way, even without any medical training. Selfishly, I was also hoping that the trip and whole experience would be personally life altering. In a sense, I came back disappointed because I don't feel like I was able to contribute much, and I haven't had any life changing epiphanies yet. Yet...

I have a lot of questions. I question how my existence can make a difference in this world. I question how God can just watch so much distruction, so much pain. After four months, piles of rubble, tent cities, chaos, and brokenness is. It just is...

I asked Joseph, one of the translators, what it is like to be Hatian. "You have to be strong. You must be a soldier. You have to fight for yourself. Look out for yourself. Have your own weapons. Sometimes, maybe, someone will help you. But usually not. You just must be strong. Because you are alone."

The woman at the clinic says she can't eat. The nurse inquires to why. In creole, she says she doesn't have an appetite. The woman then turns and points to a large pile of rubble right behind the makeshift clinic. "My daughter is in that rubble."

Reggie says if he could take it all back he would. His english is perfect. It's because he grew up in Miami, having moved there from Haiti with his mother when he was five years old. He's back now, and not by desired choice, but due to other life choices. He was convicted in the United States and deported. He's only 26. Along with the time Reggie spent in an American prison, he spent 21 days in a Hatian prison. Hatian prisons are a whole nother hell. A small space becomes a place to sleep, a bathroom, a shower. The only source of food is if the prisoner's family brings it to them. If the prisoner has no family to bring food, the prisoner has three options; another prisoner shares his food, starvation, or fight someone for their food. Reggie says you can't blame people for fighting. It's just about surviving. In Haiti, survival is about looking out for oneself.

It strikes me how strange it is that I am walking past tent cities and garbage studded dirt streets with a convicted felon. A country with no sense of safety, and me, with no sense of direction. Ironically, I feel a sense of protection from a person that I would not easily trust on the streets of LA. But, I trust Reggie. Sometimes, you must trust people. But I wonder who can the people of Haiti trust? Can they trust that they will see the benefits of the 1 billion dollars in aid money and supplies that have been sent? Can they trust that their babies will be fed? Can they trust that their homes will be rebuilt? Can they trust that there lives will improve? Can they trust in their Voudoo gods? With no infrastructure and no leader, they have learned that they can only trust themselves.

Sabrina's clinic is constructed from tarps and poles. Everything about it is mobile. The "pharmacy" is divided between four suitcases that lie on the dusty ground. The "exam room" is made up of the 90 degree converging of a brick wall and a vertical hanging tarp. It's Sabrina's Clinic because it is organized and continues to run due to the efforts of an amazing 20-something, nurse-midwife named Sabrina. For 4 months leading up to the January quake, Sabrina searched unsuccessfully for a nursing job. Even during the recent shaky economic times, nurses have still been in high demand, but Sabrina's search proved fruitless. She felt strongly that God must have some reason for her unemployment and she leaned on the faith that God was going to do something in her life. A couple days after the quake, she got a call from someone asking if she could be at the airport in an hour and a half. She was needed in Haiti.

I ask her if she gets lonely in Haiti. Her family is not with her. She's young. She's learning Creole and French. Everything is so different. She thinks for a moment and then replies, "No. Not really. Since I came here, I believe that God has been telling me that I need to go to Him first. Not a boyfriend. Not a best girlfriend. Not my family. Instead, I need to rely on Him completely and tell him everything first. So, no. I'm not lonely." Sabrina speaks with strong conviction and a calm peace. In Haiti, she has found something to trust. In Haiti, she has found the only thing to trust.

Click here to see pictures from my trip

Where We Gonna Go From Here?

Mat Kearney sings a song, and there's a line of the song that repeats,

"where we gonna go from here"

That line has been repeating in my head all morning. As of now, the bakery doesn't want us to make tortillas there any longer. What I posted yesterday was more appropriate than I realized about trusting in God to bring us through "that great wilderness." Pray for our business, because it seems we are at an impass.

"And try Me now on this," says the Lord of hosts, "If I will not open for you the windows of heaven And pour out for you such blessing that there will not be room enough to receive it."

Malachi 3:10

Now, I need to halt the tears, get myself together and go to work. Another Northwest Arkansas trip.

Taking Flight

Last Thursday was an eventful day. It marked Brenda's return home from Skywest flight attendant training. Her month of training was filled with long days, typically 10- 12 hours. With only two days, off over a period of 24 days, she was excited to be through the rigourous training. When asked what she wanted to do with her week off before she leaves for her Denver base, all she said was, "sleep."

Some people may think it's a little crazy to become a flight attendant after you're already a "Grandma." Brenda is just hoping that now she'll get to fly to Alaska more often to see her cutest granddaughter in the world.

Now, all of us fly in some way or another. I think Tim and Bryan were the two that planned on it, and Brenda and Kara stepped into it on a calculated, well thought out, whim. Either way, here we are, all taking flight.