on being strong....

It does not bode well with me to refrain from posting. Please be assured I've been thinking of things other than ironing boards and orange tables (Although... good news... I have found a buyer for our orange and white darling.... And, if you found that post a bit cynical, forgive me, and know that I pledge to be less caustic in future ones.)

I haven't posted of late because I simply haven't had the words I wanted to use. I'm not sure I do now even. I've been ruminating. Chewing the words over in my mind. Making efforts to digest their meaning.

(At least the collage of photos was lovely for you to look at ... those 16 of you who faithfully return day after day to our blog ... )

I'm presently processing our decision to stay in China, our announcement, and what it means for each member of our family. This week I've been thinking about what it means for me.

I had coffee with three wonderful women last week. Strong women... my favorite kind.

Its been ages since I've had three coffee klatsches in one week... and the timing was perfect. I could air my feelings and bare my soul over a cups of steaming coffee. And, as I listened, I heard sage advice and honest renderings from their hearts.

China is sometimes a tough place to be. It's hard on individuals, families, parents, children, and marriages.

We've been The Johnson's in China four years, and have just chosen to stay another two. Everything lined up on paper, in our minds, and in our hearts, but as the reality of 30 more months enveloped me, it was fitting to talk it out with my "lady friends". **

I chatted with one of my mei mei's this week too. Another strong chica in her own way. We talked about this strong streak, and how it effects our relationships. How it cements them, as long as the men in our lives know what they're up against.

I often use those words with Mr. Johnson. "You knew what you were getting into." Meaning when we tied the knot over a dozen years ago he knew he wasn't getting a mild mannered woman. He usually smirks in acknowledgement, and sometimes even admits he "mostly" knew.

This week I've had to call upon my toughness. I've had to be resolute. Because if I were a meeker woman, I might not be up for the extended time we just signed up for.

We recently heard a statistic about living China that we are certain is true:

The average failure rate for international expats is under 4%. That is: only four percent of people who chose to move, live and work abroad cannot complete their assignment and head back to their home country defeated. For China, that number catapults to 20%.

I can think of a host of reasons for this. I can think of the number of expats we've seen pack their bags and catch a flight home. We were at dinner a couple of Sundays ago with several other families after fellowship when this nugget came up in our conversation. I turned to Mr. Johnson, and high-fived him. We've made it into the 80% who make it in China. And I'm praying for the strength to stay there (and here... ) for two more years.

** My great aunt Helen, a strong woman in her own right, always liked to refer to her friends as "lady friends," and I like the ring of it! Aunt Helen also liked to put out marshmallows and a "little lunch" when we'd traipse to her farm on weekends. After a small amount of polite conversation, when she figured us kids had had enough, she would send my dad off to her cellar to retrieve a cardboard box of farm toys. My favorites were the horses. Horses made in a way lost to future generations eager for features and gadgets. Those magnificent animals, pulled from Great Aunt Helen's cellar, were regal sable-colored Stallions and sleek Arabians with long, sinewy plastic legs; hard, molded tails; and fine, strong facial features. Great Aunt Helen was not a gentle woman, more matter-of-fact... maybe even gruff... and certainly strong. But, she was also kind .... she had marshmallows and lady friends; and she knew when to pull out the box of tricks... all in all not someone bad to emulate.)