Saturday, December 29
Friday, December 28
Pharisaical Pharmaceuticals
My passionate pharmacist uncle Jeff Langdon always says, “Better health through pharmaceuticals.” Next time you are at his pharmacy in the Walmart in St. Joe you can say hi to him.
Sometimes when I am reading the Word of God it feels like medication is being administered to an ailment. At times I am completely oblivious to the malady that would necessitate treatment, but the Great Physician knows and gently applies what is needed so that my spiritual health is no longer compromised.
Have you ever noticed how frequently, especially in the book of Matthew, Jesus addressed the Pharisees? The big deal with this group of people was that they relied on their own actions for the redemption of their souls and imposed on others heavy burdens of duties to achieve the self-righteousness that they enjoyed. The term “bible-thumpers” might be used in today’s vernacular to loathsomely describe them. They majored on the minors of requirements and forgot about what really counts. I believe that Jesus had hope for these people and that is why he took the time and breath to address them so strongly and so regularly.
Last night at church DaRonn ministered on the importance of self-examination. He talked about the importance of looking inward to assess your spiritual state. Both he and I have made it a practice for quite some time to do just that. Quite frankly we often say to each other, “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know it all.” We have decided that in all our striving we have not yet “arrived”, and the truth is we really never will.
I did not always think that way. I used to portray many of the same characteristics of the Pharisees. I was a Pharisee. Case in point: when I was 10 we attended your typical non-denominational store front church. During praise and worship the leader would instruct the congregation to raise their hands and worship God. I was so very stubborn that I absolutely would not put my hands down until the minister instructed us to. I would look around (unless we were instructed to close our eyes) and see that I was following the rules and become disgusted at all those that were not following the rules. Not until he would say, “You may put your hands down,” did I even think about lowering my arms. And I thought that this was a part of holiness!
God, in all his grace, began to treat this area of Pharisaical tendencies in my life. His treatment has been a gradual dosage of his holy word changing me little by little. I am so grateful to him for it! There are so many, many verses that he has brought to me. This is one of my favorite portions taken from a chapter full of warnings for the Pharisees:
Matthew 23:23-24 (New Living, which by the way I refused to use in my high school years for reasons of sacrilege; God have mercy, sinner that I am!) 23 “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens, but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—justice, mercy, and faith. You should tithe, yes, but do not neglect the more important things. 24 Blind guides! You strain your water so you won’t accidentally swallow a gnat, but you swallow a camel!”
Jesus calls this behavior ignorant, blind and hypocritical. Such a strong and vivid admonition is given by the Good Teacher. So, today as I reflect and remember where I have come from I will refocus on where I am going. Today I choose to not swallow any camels. Thank God for his Pharisaical Pharmaceuticals.
Sometimes when I am reading the Word of God it feels like medication is being administered to an ailment. At times I am completely oblivious to the malady that would necessitate treatment, but the Great Physician knows and gently applies what is needed so that my spiritual health is no longer compromised.
Have you ever noticed how frequently, especially in the book of Matthew, Jesus addressed the Pharisees? The big deal with this group of people was that they relied on their own actions for the redemption of their souls and imposed on others heavy burdens of duties to achieve the self-righteousness that they enjoyed. The term “bible-thumpers” might be used in today’s vernacular to loathsomely describe them. They majored on the minors of requirements and forgot about what really counts. I believe that Jesus had hope for these people and that is why he took the time and breath to address them so strongly and so regularly.
Last night at church DaRonn ministered on the importance of self-examination. He talked about the importance of looking inward to assess your spiritual state. Both he and I have made it a practice for quite some time to do just that. Quite frankly we often say to each other, “I don’t have all the answers. I don’t know it all.” We have decided that in all our striving we have not yet “arrived”, and the truth is we really never will.
I did not always think that way. I used to portray many of the same characteristics of the Pharisees. I was a Pharisee. Case in point: when I was 10 we attended your typical non-denominational store front church. During praise and worship the leader would instruct the congregation to raise their hands and worship God. I was so very stubborn that I absolutely would not put my hands down until the minister instructed us to. I would look around (unless we were instructed to close our eyes) and see that I was following the rules and become disgusted at all those that were not following the rules. Not until he would say, “You may put your hands down,” did I even think about lowering my arms. And I thought that this was a part of holiness!
God, in all his grace, began to treat this area of Pharisaical tendencies in my life. His treatment has been a gradual dosage of his holy word changing me little by little. I am so grateful to him for it! There are so many, many verses that he has brought to me. This is one of my favorite portions taken from a chapter full of warnings for the Pharisees:
Matthew 23:23-24 (New Living, which by the way I refused to use in my high school years for reasons of sacrilege; God have mercy, sinner that I am!) 23 “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you are careful to tithe even the tiniest income from your herb gardens, but you ignore the more important aspects of the law—justice, mercy, and faith. You should tithe, yes, but do not neglect the more important things. 24 Blind guides! You strain your water so you won’t accidentally swallow a gnat, but you swallow a camel!”
Jesus calls this behavior ignorant, blind and hypocritical. Such a strong and vivid admonition is given by the Good Teacher. So, today as I reflect and remember where I have come from I will refocus on where I am going. Today I choose to not swallow any camels. Thank God for his Pharisaical Pharmaceuticals.
Wednesday, December 26
Christmas Fun
Here are some fun moments from yesterday:
Tyler playing with his awesome new toy.
Gabrielle with "Patrik". We got the kids a pair of guinea pigs, boy and girl. The girl is named "Rosebud".
Timothy trying out his new golf set. Later they all went to the park with the set. The day was bright, warm and sunny.
Tyler showing off his new trick of sticking out his tongue and wagging his head.
Gabrielle making a run to the kitchen for some sweet goodies.
All in all it was a very nice day. I finished reading "East of Eden", a great book. DaRonn got a good nap in. I hope your day was nice as well.
Tyler playing with his awesome new toy.
Gabrielle with "Patrik". We got the kids a pair of guinea pigs, boy and girl. The girl is named "Rosebud".
Timothy trying out his new golf set. Later they all went to the park with the set. The day was bright, warm and sunny.
Tyler showing off his new trick of sticking out his tongue and wagging his head.
Gabrielle making a run to the kitchen for some sweet goodies.
All in all it was a very nice day. I finished reading "East of Eden", a great book. DaRonn got a good nap in. I hope your day was nice as well.
Monday, December 24
Washington Family Christmas Picture
Merry Christmas!!!
I will post more pictures later. This is my dear family. Raimy 9, Timothy 8, Gabrielle 6 and Tyler 1.
Saturday, December 22
2007 Christ Nation Church Toy Give-Away
A father came through the door. His son was on his weary shoulders. I am sure that his son was not the only burden he carried this overcast morning. The shirt on his back was so worn down in places that his sunburned brown skin showed through. His dark head bent down as he was walking past me.
“Feliz Navidad,” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. As he raised his head I made sure to make eye contact with him and his child. An identical broad smile broke out on the faces of both. The boy was clutching the present he had received.
This morning we woke to the rich sound of rain on the window panes. Though the rain lulled me and said I could say in bed a few more minutes the excitement pulsing through me prevailed. I whispered an honest yet slightly desperate prayer, “God, the rain is fine for now; but when we start let there be sun.” The cloud cover and drips gradually dissipated as we went about with the final preparations.
Volunteers began showing up asking how they could help. Some, deemed bus captains, climbed on empty busses and were scattered through the city to fill them. Others took posts in the main sanctuary wrapping up the toys. Others then separated them into huge piles; one for the girls one for the boys.
The neighborhood buzzed with anticipation as the street in front of our church building began to fill with children. They had come because of a flyer, a radio announcement or a personal invitation. The busses began to arrive from the orphanages, prisons and needy neighbor hoods brimming over with children of all ages.
And the sun came out! The program started with fun songs about Jesus. The animated voice of our church’s children leader pumped out over the speakers telling the children about Jesus. Another song was about to start so she invited a few children up on the make shift stage, the flat back of a large truck, to dance with her and do the simple motions.
Then came the thing everyone had been waiting for: the toy give-away. In all 2,207 toys were given to the children of Cochabamba, Bolivia today. Our church, Christ Nation Church, of about 200 members collected some 2,700 toys to give away. We have worked together for the last 7 weeks to be sure we had enough toys. And this was without corporate sponsors; just the members giving of themselves to bless this city. The left over toys will be used for other events and to stock our prize bin in children’s church.
Two years ago we launched this great annual event and gathered together 400 kids and gave them each a toy for Christmas. Last year we raised the bar and challenged the congregation to gather together 1,000. They did it! This year we told them that we were going to bless 2,500 kids with toys. The goal was met and exceeded.
We have coupled this toy give-away with a faith project for the church. These toys were sown as a seed towards having 300 people attending church on a weekly basis in 2008. (Personally, I think that we will exceed this goal too as we work together.) This number will put us in a strategic position for beginning the process of buying property and building. Pastor DaRonn, my husband, is so good about challenging us to grow and reach out to people with the love of Jesus. He says, “If the church is doing what it should be doing the world will take notice.” I wonder what he will tell us is our goal for toy collection in 2008. Whatever it is I know that with God we will reach it.
Here are some pictures from this morning:
“Feliz Navidad,” I said as I placed my hand on his shoulder. As he raised his head I made sure to make eye contact with him and his child. An identical broad smile broke out on the faces of both. The boy was clutching the present he had received.
This morning we woke to the rich sound of rain on the window panes. Though the rain lulled me and said I could say in bed a few more minutes the excitement pulsing through me prevailed. I whispered an honest yet slightly desperate prayer, “God, the rain is fine for now; but when we start let there be sun.” The cloud cover and drips gradually dissipated as we went about with the final preparations.
Volunteers began showing up asking how they could help. Some, deemed bus captains, climbed on empty busses and were scattered through the city to fill them. Others took posts in the main sanctuary wrapping up the toys. Others then separated them into huge piles; one for the girls one for the boys.
The neighborhood buzzed with anticipation as the street in front of our church building began to fill with children. They had come because of a flyer, a radio announcement or a personal invitation. The busses began to arrive from the orphanages, prisons and needy neighbor hoods brimming over with children of all ages.
And the sun came out! The program started with fun songs about Jesus. The animated voice of our church’s children leader pumped out over the speakers telling the children about Jesus. Another song was about to start so she invited a few children up on the make shift stage, the flat back of a large truck, to dance with her and do the simple motions.
Then came the thing everyone had been waiting for: the toy give-away. In all 2,207 toys were given to the children of Cochabamba, Bolivia today. Our church, Christ Nation Church, of about 200 members collected some 2,700 toys to give away. We have worked together for the last 7 weeks to be sure we had enough toys. And this was without corporate sponsors; just the members giving of themselves to bless this city. The left over toys will be used for other events and to stock our prize bin in children’s church.
Two years ago we launched this great annual event and gathered together 400 kids and gave them each a toy for Christmas. Last year we raised the bar and challenged the congregation to gather together 1,000. They did it! This year we told them that we were going to bless 2,500 kids with toys. The goal was met and exceeded.
We have coupled this toy give-away with a faith project for the church. These toys were sown as a seed towards having 300 people attending church on a weekly basis in 2008. (Personally, I think that we will exceed this goal too as we work together.) This number will put us in a strategic position for beginning the process of buying property and building. Pastor DaRonn, my husband, is so good about challenging us to grow and reach out to people with the love of Jesus. He says, “If the church is doing what it should be doing the world will take notice.” I wonder what he will tell us is our goal for toy collection in 2008. Whatever it is I know that with God we will reach it.
Here are some pictures from this morning:
Some of the toys collected for the boys.
Some of the toys collected for the girls.
This member of our church is 91 years old. She is helping prepare the toys.
Our children's leader on a truck on the street in front of our church, Christ Nation Church.
Some of the 2,207 children that received a toy for Christmas.
DaRonn and I handing out toys along with the other 20 some volunteers.
Merry Christmas!!!
Wednesday, December 19
Eggshells
“Walking on eggshells” indicates that within a certain relationship we are being extra cautious so as to not offend, upset or anger the other. It is assumed that there is tension; one is frustrated or even annoyed with having to be so guarded around the other.
In Spanish we have a similar idiom that has almost the same wording but a very different meaning. The phrase is “walk stepping on eggs”. One who is stepping on eggs is a person who looks down on another. This person has a critical eye when evaluating another.
Two extremes: in English the person is cautious and careful; in Spanish the person is haughty and proud. The similar tie is such a big nasty word (or so it might seem in our Christian circles now days) that we think it is nigh unto, if not the very definition of sin: judgment. Tolerance and judgment have been set on opposites sides of the room and we are to choose which camp we are in.
If you are on the side of tolerance you are on the “good” side. You keep your mouth shut and let people live their lives the way that they see is right. You plaster on an approving grin even when you know in your gut something is not right. You mutter soothing words of understanding when the person before you defends and justifies his actions with completely reasonable arguments; while all the while you are plagued with indignity on the inside. All this done in the (holy?) name of tolerance.
If you choose to root in the corner of the traitorous judgment then you are booed at by liberals and reformed conservatives alike. Seeing these criticisms as nothing more than persecution for the faith you rise up louder still with your public accusations of the evildoers everywhere. You crank your bullhorn to the loudest setting and march down the street with your picket sign denouncing all that is bad in the world. You hear about a fallen member in the Christian world and immediately grab the phone to inform your prayer chain of all the juicy, I mean important details so that she can “pray better”.
My familiarity with both side of the coin is due to the fact that I have behaved both ways. Beginning my walk with Christ as a Miss Goody-Two-Shoes I muddied my Sunday best in the ditch of undue judgmentalism and an ugly critical spirit. I was so blinded by the mud I was slinging that I prayed to God that he give me the desirous gift of sarcasm with which I would be better able to maim my victims.
I met my match in some humbling encounters that pulled me out of verbal attacks. But still stumbling along and feeling my way I fell into the slimy bog of tolerance on the other side of the road. In those murky waters it was easy to convince myself that I was mistaken by what I saw so it was better to be neutral. I began questioning moral truths that I knew in Sunday school but just didn’t seem to hold enough substance against the darkness of the real world. After all as a missionary I am not called to change the culture? Or am I?
Almost two years ago my husband and I became pastors. In these last six months I have finally begun to feel like a pastor; the main reason for this being that I have had to confront within myself this conflict between judgmentalism and tolerance.
This week I sat with a teary-eyed member of my church and as I listened I knew that the issue had been settled within me. This process of sifting and learning, grappling and thinking was put to the final test. I am sure that I will be moving on to a new issue very soon. But for now I am thankful that God brought clarity.
I know that you might be thinking, “So what is it? What is the answer?” It would be very hard for me to lay out months and even years of learning. At the end of this post I am including a link to an online 4 sermon teaching series that was a key in helping me. But the bottom line is that I am grateful that this lesson has been learned. Someday I might teach or preach about it. Just now I am contented to live it.
Look for the series: Judgment Call
In Spanish we have a similar idiom that has almost the same wording but a very different meaning. The phrase is “walk stepping on eggs”. One who is stepping on eggs is a person who looks down on another. This person has a critical eye when evaluating another.
Two extremes: in English the person is cautious and careful; in Spanish the person is haughty and proud. The similar tie is such a big nasty word (or so it might seem in our Christian circles now days) that we think it is nigh unto, if not the very definition of sin: judgment. Tolerance and judgment have been set on opposites sides of the room and we are to choose which camp we are in.
If you are on the side of tolerance you are on the “good” side. You keep your mouth shut and let people live their lives the way that they see is right. You plaster on an approving grin even when you know in your gut something is not right. You mutter soothing words of understanding when the person before you defends and justifies his actions with completely reasonable arguments; while all the while you are plagued with indignity on the inside. All this done in the (holy?) name of tolerance.
If you choose to root in the corner of the traitorous judgment then you are booed at by liberals and reformed conservatives alike. Seeing these criticisms as nothing more than persecution for the faith you rise up louder still with your public accusations of the evildoers everywhere. You crank your bullhorn to the loudest setting and march down the street with your picket sign denouncing all that is bad in the world. You hear about a fallen member in the Christian world and immediately grab the phone to inform your prayer chain of all the juicy, I mean important details so that she can “pray better”.
My familiarity with both side of the coin is due to the fact that I have behaved both ways. Beginning my walk with Christ as a Miss Goody-Two-Shoes I muddied my Sunday best in the ditch of undue judgmentalism and an ugly critical spirit. I was so blinded by the mud I was slinging that I prayed to God that he give me the desirous gift of sarcasm with which I would be better able to maim my victims.
I met my match in some humbling encounters that pulled me out of verbal attacks. But still stumbling along and feeling my way I fell into the slimy bog of tolerance on the other side of the road. In those murky waters it was easy to convince myself that I was mistaken by what I saw so it was better to be neutral. I began questioning moral truths that I knew in Sunday school but just didn’t seem to hold enough substance against the darkness of the real world. After all as a missionary I am not called to change the culture? Or am I?
Almost two years ago my husband and I became pastors. In these last six months I have finally begun to feel like a pastor; the main reason for this being that I have had to confront within myself this conflict between judgmentalism and tolerance.
This week I sat with a teary-eyed member of my church and as I listened I knew that the issue had been settled within me. This process of sifting and learning, grappling and thinking was put to the final test. I am sure that I will be moving on to a new issue very soon. But for now I am thankful that God brought clarity.
I know that you might be thinking, “So what is it? What is the answer?” It would be very hard for me to lay out months and even years of learning. At the end of this post I am including a link to an online 4 sermon teaching series that was a key in helping me. But the bottom line is that I am grateful that this lesson has been learned. Someday I might teach or preach about it. Just now I am contented to live it.
Look for the series: Judgment Call
Monday, December 17
The True Tango
My youngest son loves to dance. It puts a smile on your face to see him move to the rhythm of the music seeing as he is only 15 months old. Last night he found my CD of tango music so we listened to it. He was dancing all over the room while my fingers danced on the keyboard typing an entry for Existencia Compartida. It is my Spanish blog. It was quite inspirational typing in Spanish to Latin music. The post seemed like something that my English readers might enjoy as well.
As we listened it reminded me of our tenth wedding anniversary last year. We made an unforgettable trip to the infamous birthplace of the tango: Buenos Aires, Argentina. Tiny Tyler was with us due to the fact that he was still nursing. Perhaps he loves to dance because of this early exposure to music in that foreign country. Who knows? Could be.
On the streets of Buenos Aires there are tango demonstrations. The street shows require a team of three. There is the beautiful woman with her face all done up. Then there is the man who exists simply to accentuate the beautiful movements of the woman. There is also a sound man who walks around in the crowd hat in hand to collect the coins of the onlookers who have formed a sort of stage by encircling the dancers. These dance troupes must do well because they are on every corner of the wide pedestrian walkways.
Whenever we stopped to watch a couple dance, without fail one or two citizens would whisper in our ears with a sour face and a venomous tone something like, “This is not true tango!”
How could they tell this was not the tango? I was fascinated seeing them move to the rhythm of the music. One thing is certain, I cannot move like they do. But tonight as I watched my son I realized how they could feel so strongly. It is because they have experienced the true tango. They have seen it; maybe even danced it. They can make an authoritative comparison.
It made me think about the people who watch us Christians. What are they experiencing? Are they seeing some people go through the motions to collect a few coins and some weak applause? (Which are nothing more than superficial samples of love.) Or are they seeing authentic and true Christians? Can it be that Somebody is whispering in their ears, “They are not true Christians”?
The word of God gives us ways to prove the authenticity of a Christian. One of these is found in John 13:35 “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” I believe that if we would truly demonstrate the love of God to others then people would be able to distinguish authentic Christians. They are going to be fascinated when they see us moving together to the rhythms of the grace of God. And they are going to admire what a life can be with God.
Now, there are people doing all the right things with the wrong motives. It says in Colossians 3:23-24 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” Some think, “I am going to do the minimum that God requires of me just so that I can secure my place in Heaven, but do not ask anything more of me.” With a mentality like that you are simply putting on a superficial street show to earn a couple coins. But, in the same way that I believe the street dancers (if they wanted to) could dance the “true tango” so that the citizens of their city would respect them I believe that you and I can allow the love of God to flow through us in such a way that as we love others we are demonstrating true Christianity and we become an authentic expression of love to this generation.
Shall we dance?
As we listened it reminded me of our tenth wedding anniversary last year. We made an unforgettable trip to the infamous birthplace of the tango: Buenos Aires, Argentina. Tiny Tyler was with us due to the fact that he was still nursing. Perhaps he loves to dance because of this early exposure to music in that foreign country. Who knows? Could be.
On the streets of Buenos Aires there are tango demonstrations. The street shows require a team of three. There is the beautiful woman with her face all done up. Then there is the man who exists simply to accentuate the beautiful movements of the woman. There is also a sound man who walks around in the crowd hat in hand to collect the coins of the onlookers who have formed a sort of stage by encircling the dancers. These dance troupes must do well because they are on every corner of the wide pedestrian walkways.
Whenever we stopped to watch a couple dance, without fail one or two citizens would whisper in our ears with a sour face and a venomous tone something like, “This is not true tango!”
How could they tell this was not the tango? I was fascinated seeing them move to the rhythm of the music. One thing is certain, I cannot move like they do. But tonight as I watched my son I realized how they could feel so strongly. It is because they have experienced the true tango. They have seen it; maybe even danced it. They can make an authoritative comparison.
It made me think about the people who watch us Christians. What are they experiencing? Are they seeing some people go through the motions to collect a few coins and some weak applause? (Which are nothing more than superficial samples of love.) Or are they seeing authentic and true Christians? Can it be that Somebody is whispering in their ears, “They are not true Christians”?
The word of God gives us ways to prove the authenticity of a Christian. One of these is found in John 13:35 “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” I believe that if we would truly demonstrate the love of God to others then people would be able to distinguish authentic Christians. They are going to be fascinated when they see us moving together to the rhythms of the grace of God. And they are going to admire what a life can be with God.
Now, there are people doing all the right things with the wrong motives. It says in Colossians 3:23-24 “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.” Some think, “I am going to do the minimum that God requires of me just so that I can secure my place in Heaven, but do not ask anything more of me.” With a mentality like that you are simply putting on a superficial street show to earn a couple coins. But, in the same way that I believe the street dancers (if they wanted to) could dance the “true tango” so that the citizens of their city would respect them I believe that you and I can allow the love of God to flow through us in such a way that as we love others we are demonstrating true Christianity and we become an authentic expression of love to this generation.
Shall we dance?
Friday, December 14
A Bloggity Blog
Today marks the one year anniversary of my very first blog post.
Ta dah!
You may all give me a solemn golf clap.
Why, thankye kindly y’all!
The fun loving wife of Noah was the inspiration for my first post. Click here to re-live the joy of that very first post.
I have these blogs:
@ngie (on Xanga and Blogger)
Missionaries Who Blog (a handy link page)
We Are Family (with my husband, kids, parents, siblings, brother-in-law, and nieces)
Existencia Compartida (Spanish for: Shared Existence)
Fun facts...
I joined Xanga and waited 40 days before posting my first entry
I post 3 times a week, on an average
If people ask me what my hobby is I tell them it is blogging
There have been about 3,500 hits to all my blogs combined these 365 days
If someone gave me a (cool) T-shirt about blogging then I would wear it
Things I have gained from Blogging…
A better understanding about the internet
Better typing skills
A closer relationship with friends and family
New friends
Tons of confidence boosters by way of comments
5 random things about myself:
- I have earned 90 points for a lay in scrabble, but I don’t remember what the word was.
- I have climbed Ayers Rock (a.k.a. Uluru) in the middle of Australia.
- I have white water rafted on the Zambezi River.
- I have a Bohemian heritage
- I have a kaleidoscope collection
“Happy Bloggityday to you!
Happy Bloggityday to you!
Happy Bloggityday dear @ngie!
Happy Bloggityday to you!”
Thursday, December 13
Exposé of Grossness
(Warning: the content of this post may be considered unnecessarily gross to humans of the non mother persuasion.)
The pediatrician told me that the reason my son’s front is constantly drenched in slobber is that he has an over active salivatory gland that he will grow out of. I swear people, this boy is like a leaky faucet; you just can’t turn him off. The endearing nicknames that he has gained due to his zealot of a gland are: slobber-bot and drool-miester.
And while I am on it, sometimes I feel like my day consists of the meticulous gathering, inspection, categorizing and proper storage of every bodily fluid and excretion ever created. Am I comparing toddler care to the exact study of a scientist? Yes. How else do you think I can endure this demeaning yet all so important work they call care-giving?
How bad can it be? (You so naively ask.) Here comes the grossness! Shall we start south and work our way north? Or should we just do the good ol’ head to foot routine? Going with the latter… There is that orange dandruff like stuff growing under what few hairs they have on their heads that no matter how much you pick at it there is a new crop daily. Eye-boogers are your early morning greeting. Then there is the ear wax that you are not supposed to dig out even though it looks like the child has been attacked by tiny aliens and they are constructing a weird colony in there. We mustn’t forget the rainbow of snot that drains out of not one but two nostrils on an occasional basis. If you do not know the color, consistency and frequency of that slime then don’t even think about calling ask-a-nurse*! Before moving on to the mouth the nose does have one more function. In the unfortunate event that a child begins laughing while drinking milk (why is it always milk?) said milk will reroute itself through the nose expelling itself with such force as to successfully cover all persons present with the physical manifestation of the intangible joy that your child is experiencing. Moving on to the mouth: drool, spit-up, juicy blenching, smelly burps, regurgitated baby food, unswallowed mashed up food, rejected medications, phlegm, goobery tiny pieces of toys that are supposedly “a choking hazard” but are actually a cause of temporary deafness due to the screaming that is invoked from the baby when the extraction takes place and last but not least the infamous, odorous, staining and sickening vomit. Oh, and we haven’t got to the most exciting bits yet folks!
A few words about blood. Blood is meant to stay inside the body; yet almost everywhere on the body can bleed! Band-aids* are a joke. They stick for all of 3 minutes. After that, if the child has not taken it off then it comes off in some kind of water play or it is so full of dirt that you gasp and work as hard as you can to pry the thing off without ripping the tiny hairs out of their follicles. The only things band-aids* are good for are bribes. You bribe the kids to stop wailing by promising them a cute little band-aid*.
So you have your blood that you have to take care of. If you do it right then you won’t have to take care of the pus that accompanies infection. That’s right – do not avoid the blood because the pus is 10 times worse to take care of than the blood. If you see blood do not waste one more minute. Grab that wonder water that make the fun little bubbles when killing infection (technical term: hydrogen peroxide) and douse that wound! Disclaimer for parents: you do not have care for or treat broken bones. Take the kid to a doctor for that. Whoo, load off! Right?
Wrong! We have now reached the pinnacle of grossness. Below that adorable little belly button lies a load of worries. And by load, I mean load! The things that make their way out of your child’s abdomen and into that Mickey Mouse* diaper are unthinkable and unspeakable. Little bit of trivia for you. You will have what color poop when you eat Froot Loops*? If you said bright green then give yourself a gold sticker. Yes, as a parent you have diaper duty. And speaking of “duty”, why is it that we invent funny little names for bodily functions? Pee-pee, poo-poo, doodie, pees, stinkies, uh-oh, tinkle, and any other cutesy name that pops into our heads at the time. Oh, and speaking of heads. You know you have reached the brink of insanity when you see one of those tiny pieces of toy in the diaper all covered in yuck and after your initial panic attack thinking it is some part of the child’s guts that need to be taken to the surgeon so he can put it back where it goes you seriously think to yourself, “Do I dig it out and clean it off?” or an even more demented thought, “Do I call the big kids in and show this to them so they quit leaving their little pieces of toys laying around.” Recognize this as a sign that you are about to go insane and stop. Just fold the diaper up and throw it away. Pretend you didn’t see the object. It doesn’t exist. It was never there. You are still a good mom!
I said we were going head to foot. I thought it was some kind of practical joke when I smelled my infant son’s feet and they had the odor of a high-school gym locker room. My girls’ feet never smelled like anything else than baby powder. But my boys’ feet have stunk from day one. Not to mention the toe jam and sweaty, sticky sock fuzz that you gotta scrape off.
My precious gooey children haven’t yet reached the age of puberty. They tell me that the teenage years are so much worse. Frankly I don’t image how it could be worse. It will have to be my next chapter in the exposé on grossness.
People just don’t tell you all this stuff when you are oohing and ahhing over the soft cuddly bundle wrapped up in the stroller of a radiant starry-eyed young mother. It’s all a trick! They are wrapped up so you don’t see all the grossness. And those aren’t stars in her eyes, the poor woman hasn’t slept in days and her eyes are frozen open. But that is for another post.
* The name brands that I mentioned above are probably like protected by copyrights and have a bunch of trademarks. So like somebody buy some of their products and I think that they won’t mind that I mentioned them.
The pediatrician told me that the reason my son’s front is constantly drenched in slobber is that he has an over active salivatory gland that he will grow out of. I swear people, this boy is like a leaky faucet; you just can’t turn him off. The endearing nicknames that he has gained due to his zealot of a gland are: slobber-bot and drool-miester.
And while I am on it, sometimes I feel like my day consists of the meticulous gathering, inspection, categorizing and proper storage of every bodily fluid and excretion ever created. Am I comparing toddler care to the exact study of a scientist? Yes. How else do you think I can endure this demeaning yet all so important work they call care-giving?
How bad can it be? (You so naively ask.) Here comes the grossness! Shall we start south and work our way north? Or should we just do the good ol’ head to foot routine? Going with the latter… There is that orange dandruff like stuff growing under what few hairs they have on their heads that no matter how much you pick at it there is a new crop daily. Eye-boogers are your early morning greeting. Then there is the ear wax that you are not supposed to dig out even though it looks like the child has been attacked by tiny aliens and they are constructing a weird colony in there. We mustn’t forget the rainbow of snot that drains out of not one but two nostrils on an occasional basis. If you do not know the color, consistency and frequency of that slime then don’t even think about calling ask-a-nurse*! Before moving on to the mouth the nose does have one more function. In the unfortunate event that a child begins laughing while drinking milk (why is it always milk?) said milk will reroute itself through the nose expelling itself with such force as to successfully cover all persons present with the physical manifestation of the intangible joy that your child is experiencing. Moving on to the mouth: drool, spit-up, juicy blenching, smelly burps, regurgitated baby food, unswallowed mashed up food, rejected medications, phlegm, goobery tiny pieces of toys that are supposedly “a choking hazard” but are actually a cause of temporary deafness due to the screaming that is invoked from the baby when the extraction takes place and last but not least the infamous, odorous, staining and sickening vomit. Oh, and we haven’t got to the most exciting bits yet folks!
A few words about blood. Blood is meant to stay inside the body; yet almost everywhere on the body can bleed! Band-aids* are a joke. They stick for all of 3 minutes. After that, if the child has not taken it off then it comes off in some kind of water play or it is so full of dirt that you gasp and work as hard as you can to pry the thing off without ripping the tiny hairs out of their follicles. The only things band-aids* are good for are bribes. You bribe the kids to stop wailing by promising them a cute little band-aid*.
So you have your blood that you have to take care of. If you do it right then you won’t have to take care of the pus that accompanies infection. That’s right – do not avoid the blood because the pus is 10 times worse to take care of than the blood. If you see blood do not waste one more minute. Grab that wonder water that make the fun little bubbles when killing infection (technical term: hydrogen peroxide) and douse that wound! Disclaimer for parents: you do not have care for or treat broken bones. Take the kid to a doctor for that. Whoo, load off! Right?
Wrong! We have now reached the pinnacle of grossness. Below that adorable little belly button lies a load of worries. And by load, I mean load! The things that make their way out of your child’s abdomen and into that Mickey Mouse* diaper are unthinkable and unspeakable. Little bit of trivia for you. You will have what color poop when you eat Froot Loops*? If you said bright green then give yourself a gold sticker. Yes, as a parent you have diaper duty. And speaking of “duty”, why is it that we invent funny little names for bodily functions? Pee-pee, poo-poo, doodie, pees, stinkies, uh-oh, tinkle, and any other cutesy name that pops into our heads at the time. Oh, and speaking of heads. You know you have reached the brink of insanity when you see one of those tiny pieces of toy in the diaper all covered in yuck and after your initial panic attack thinking it is some part of the child’s guts that need to be taken to the surgeon so he can put it back where it goes you seriously think to yourself, “Do I dig it out and clean it off?” or an even more demented thought, “Do I call the big kids in and show this to them so they quit leaving their little pieces of toys laying around.” Recognize this as a sign that you are about to go insane and stop. Just fold the diaper up and throw it away. Pretend you didn’t see the object. It doesn’t exist. It was never there. You are still a good mom!
I said we were going head to foot. I thought it was some kind of practical joke when I smelled my infant son’s feet and they had the odor of a high-school gym locker room. My girls’ feet never smelled like anything else than baby powder. But my boys’ feet have stunk from day one. Not to mention the toe jam and sweaty, sticky sock fuzz that you gotta scrape off.
My precious gooey children haven’t yet reached the age of puberty. They tell me that the teenage years are so much worse. Frankly I don’t image how it could be worse. It will have to be my next chapter in the exposé on grossness.
People just don’t tell you all this stuff when you are oohing and ahhing over the soft cuddly bundle wrapped up in the stroller of a radiant starry-eyed young mother. It’s all a trick! They are wrapped up so you don’t see all the grossness. And those aren’t stars in her eyes, the poor woman hasn’t slept in days and her eyes are frozen open. But that is for another post.
* The name brands that I mentioned above are probably like protected by copyrights and have a bunch of trademarks. So like somebody buy some of their products and I think that they won’t mind that I mentioned them.
Monday, December 10
Summer Break
We are full swing into summer break. It feels very nice to have finished a school year and be able to focus on the year end festivities. The Bolivian school year runs from February to November. It makes logical sense to start and finish a school year in the same year; so we follow that system with our home schooling. To the South of the equator summer is November to March (more or less). For Cochabamba, Bolivia that means the rainy season. It has been relatively dry thus far; we are hoping for more rain since this is the only time during the year that rain comes.
We got our Christmas tree up this weekend. This is the earliest we have ever gotten it up. We had a bunch of fun as a family decorating, singing, laughing and munching.
Though I do so miss the frost and snow that enchant this season I am glad for my husband that we live in a place that they call “Eternal Spring”. He does not like the cold at all. I think I am getting used to my palm trees and sunshine on Christmas day. I am looking forward to it, actually.
Yeah for summer!
We got our Christmas tree up this weekend. This is the earliest we have ever gotten it up. We had a bunch of fun as a family decorating, singing, laughing and munching.
Though I do so miss the frost and snow that enchant this season I am glad for my husband that we live in a place that they call “Eternal Spring”. He does not like the cold at all. I think I am getting used to my palm trees and sunshine on Christmas day. I am looking forward to it, actually.
Yeah for summer!
Sunday, December 2
First Class in the Third World
As promised another train story. This is an excerpt from the old fashioned pencil and notebook journal I kept of our experiences. This particular selection was penned right after my adventure to capture the essence and emotion.
20-XI-07 Bolivia – November 2007
On the train ride from Oruro to Uyuni the need arose to use the bathroom. Before the trip began they showed a video in the cabin about the ride, safety regulations and the facilities available. They especially requested that proper use of all equipment be observed. The actress demonstrated what this proper use was in actuality. While demonstrating the use of the lavatory she smiled as she squeezed some soap from the dispenser and washed her hands in the tiny sink. Everything seemed so modern and pleasant.
I was so excited to go to the fancy dining car they had showed. I thought it was going to be so cool to walk between the cars by opening and shutting the doors. I just wanted to do it all – including using the bathroom. My moment had arrived.
So I found my way to the middle of our car where the fancy restroom was and opened the latch. Immediately I noticed two things. First it is significantly cooler in the w/c than in my nicely heated executive cabin. Next, the clickety-clack of the train track was much louder in the toilette (as the door indicated that this room was). Following theses first two observations I was sure I felt a breeze. Yes, there was cold air blowing on me – from below! I slowly peered over the edges of the metallic toilet seat only to discover that this was nothing more than a glorified squatty potty! A hole in the floor of the train with a filthy tube providing a great view of the tracks passing below. But, when you gotta go you gotta go. So I did my business. It was so cold! But I haven’t stopped grinning since. It was fun.
(For a similar type of story click here)
As an after note… I think I now know why the cute little Bolivian model on the video was smiling. She was probably thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding!” Well, I followed her lead to the letter; I was smiling the whole time I was scrubbing my hands in the diminutive basin. Oh, and this is the very best and most luxurious way to travel to Uyuni. I know because not even 10 seats up from me was seated the new United States ambassador to Bolivia and all his body guards with the twisty plastic tubing coming out of their ears.
20-XI-07 Bolivia – November 2007
On the train ride from Oruro to Uyuni the need arose to use the bathroom. Before the trip began they showed a video in the cabin about the ride, safety regulations and the facilities available. They especially requested that proper use of all equipment be observed. The actress demonstrated what this proper use was in actuality. While demonstrating the use of the lavatory she smiled as she squeezed some soap from the dispenser and washed her hands in the tiny sink. Everything seemed so modern and pleasant.
I was so excited to go to the fancy dining car they had showed. I thought it was going to be so cool to walk between the cars by opening and shutting the doors. I just wanted to do it all – including using the bathroom. My moment had arrived.
So I found my way to the middle of our car where the fancy restroom was and opened the latch. Immediately I noticed two things. First it is significantly cooler in the w/c than in my nicely heated executive cabin. Next, the clickety-clack of the train track was much louder in the toilette (as the door indicated that this room was). Following theses first two observations I was sure I felt a breeze. Yes, there was cold air blowing on me – from below! I slowly peered over the edges of the metallic toilet seat only to discover that this was nothing more than a glorified squatty potty! A hole in the floor of the train with a filthy tube providing a great view of the tracks passing below. But, when you gotta go you gotta go. So I did my business. It was so cold! But I haven’t stopped grinning since. It was fun.
(For a similar type of story click here)
As an after note… I think I now know why the cute little Bolivian model on the video was smiling. She was probably thinking, “You’ve got to be kidding!” Well, I followed her lead to the letter; I was smiling the whole time I was scrubbing my hands in the diminutive basin. Oh, and this is the very best and most luxurious way to travel to Uyuni. I know because not even 10 seats up from me was seated the new United States ambassador to Bolivia and all his body guards with the twisty plastic tubing coming out of their ears.
Friday, November 30
Appointment on a Train
You know on the personality profile tests when they ask you for your perception of rules? Well, I always answer that rules exists to keep us safe. (Other responses are along the lines of: rules need to be challenged, rules make if fair, and rules make it boring.) I tend to be a person who trusts others very easily; thus rules are easy for me to follow. In fact I depend so much on rules that I put little rules on myself. It just makes life easier for me to have these standards in place ahead of time so that when conflict or pressures arise I refer to the previously established rule to make the decision. Trust me; I know that there are downfalls to this characteristic. That is why it is great that I am married to a man who believes that rules need to be challenged and is always thinking outside the box and pushing the limits. We are a good balance.
So as a rule I don’t break my own rules for the simple purpose of security. Well, a couple of weeks ago I broke one of my rules and suffered the consequences; but it turned out ok.
Rule: When reading books DO NOT flip to the last page to see how it ends and by all means DO NOT read the study helps, commentaries, or prefaces by anyone who did not author the book. DO read all these things after you read the book.
So I was getting ready for my trip to Uyuni deciding what to pack. I had to decide what books to take. I was 5/6 done with “Anna Karenina”. It is a very big book, as Russian classics tend to be, and it would take up space. So should I take it and risk a very disappointing ending, possibly putting a sad taint on the trip? Or should I take a quick read that doesn’t take up space and will not emotionally influence my trip?
This is when I broke my rule. It all happened so fast seeing as we have high speed internet. I googled Anna Karenina and clicked through the first link. Sure enough there was an insightful synopsis and they revealed the dire fate of the heroine! My gut was wretched; mostly because I was disgusted with myself for breaking the rule.
But then I made some connections that convinced me that if the only thing I packed was that book I had to take it along.
One of my life long dreams has been to ride a train. Marisol (my friend who organized the trip) told me that one of the legs of the trip was a 7 hour train ride. I was thrilled! Like jumping up and down, clapping my hands, where do I sign? Happy!
Well, this review that was made so convenient to me online had mentioned the theme of trains throughout the book. Anna is first seen on a train, a tragedy takes place at the train station, her son plays with trains, and the climax which concludes the book involves a train. I had picked up on that already but didn’t understand that it was integral to the ending.
So I was going to be on a train for the first time in my life. The book was leading up to an exciting train scene. Yes, the book is coming with me! And I am going to read that very part while I am on the train. It was decided.
Riding on the train was a fabulous experience. After a yummy meal in the dining car and a tea afterwards we headed back to our seats. I had an empty seat next to me so I was super comfy and could stretch out. This was my moment! Everyone was resting, it was dark, and the train was rocking. I pulled my book out and started reading. Everybody around me seemed to disappear. The only things I was aware of were the click-clack of the tracks and the gentle sway of the car. I read furiously fast. Then it happened. I knew it was coming. That is why I was reading it. It was wonderfully surreal.
The only spiritual observation that I can pull from this whole experience is that I think that God just wanted to set that up for me ‘cause he knows stuff like that fascinates me. Who could have known a month before when I started reading the book that I would be able to finish it in such a meaningful place? Except him! Amazing!
(I have one more silly little train story from that trip. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.)
So as a rule I don’t break my own rules for the simple purpose of security. Well, a couple of weeks ago I broke one of my rules and suffered the consequences; but it turned out ok.
Rule: When reading books DO NOT flip to the last page to see how it ends and by all means DO NOT read the study helps, commentaries, or prefaces by anyone who did not author the book. DO read all these things after you read the book.
So I was getting ready for my trip to Uyuni deciding what to pack. I had to decide what books to take. I was 5/6 done with “Anna Karenina”. It is a very big book, as Russian classics tend to be, and it would take up space. So should I take it and risk a very disappointing ending, possibly putting a sad taint on the trip? Or should I take a quick read that doesn’t take up space and will not emotionally influence my trip?
This is when I broke my rule. It all happened so fast seeing as we have high speed internet. I googled Anna Karenina and clicked through the first link. Sure enough there was an insightful synopsis and they revealed the dire fate of the heroine! My gut was wretched; mostly because I was disgusted with myself for breaking the rule.
But then I made some connections that convinced me that if the only thing I packed was that book I had to take it along.
One of my life long dreams has been to ride a train. Marisol (my friend who organized the trip) told me that one of the legs of the trip was a 7 hour train ride. I was thrilled! Like jumping up and down, clapping my hands, where do I sign? Happy!
Well, this review that was made so convenient to me online had mentioned the theme of trains throughout the book. Anna is first seen on a train, a tragedy takes place at the train station, her son plays with trains, and the climax which concludes the book involves a train. I had picked up on that already but didn’t understand that it was integral to the ending.
So I was going to be on a train for the first time in my life. The book was leading up to an exciting train scene. Yes, the book is coming with me! And I am going to read that very part while I am on the train. It was decided.
Riding on the train was a fabulous experience. After a yummy meal in the dining car and a tea afterwards we headed back to our seats. I had an empty seat next to me so I was super comfy and could stretch out. This was my moment! Everyone was resting, it was dark, and the train was rocking. I pulled my book out and started reading. Everybody around me seemed to disappear. The only things I was aware of were the click-clack of the tracks and the gentle sway of the car. I read furiously fast. Then it happened. I knew it was coming. That is why I was reading it. It was wonderfully surreal.
The only spiritual observation that I can pull from this whole experience is that I think that God just wanted to set that up for me ‘cause he knows stuff like that fascinates me. Who could have known a month before when I started reading the book that I would be able to finish it in such a meaningful place? Except him! Amazing!
(I have one more silly little train story from that trip. Remind me to tell you about it sometime.)
Wednesday, November 28
Peanut’s Plan
Last night my four little nuts and I were eating our dinner. I said, “Guys, after you go to bed tonight…”
Peanut-butter interrupts rolling her eyes with a little grin on her face, “I know, I know. You are going to go out.”
“I know where she is going! She is going to see papa bowling!” Peanut-man declared triumphantly.
“Nu-uh! You don’t know!” Peanut-butter stated trying to get the upper hand.
Peanut, ever the peacemaker, raised her voice above the din of the argument brewing across the table, “There is a way we can know! In the morning we can go into mama and papa’s room. If there is a trophy there that means that papa was bowling!”
Cheers of approval from both sides of the table revealed their enthusiasm as to the validity and rightness of this plan to verify mama and papa’s extracurricular activities. The unanimous observation was completely founded on logic (in their heart): If papa is indeed bowling then a trophy will be the sure proof of this activity.
In conclusion: Papa bowling = a trophy won.
All in their jammies this morning my little nuts gathered around the gleaming white trophy in the shape of a bowling pin. The comments were varied.
“You got another one?” Peanut-butter clarified.
“How many of those do you have now?” Peanut asked with proud grin on her face.
“Is this one bigger than the last one?” Peanut-man implored with eyes wide inspecting the first-place, city-wide championship prize.
Nutmeg just watched and listened, contented to be in the middle of the mix as his papa showed the trophy to his ever adoring and most faithful fans. Someday they might actually get to see him win one of those things; when the championship is not held past their bed-time.
Peanut-butter interrupts rolling her eyes with a little grin on her face, “I know, I know. You are going to go out.”
“I know where she is going! She is going to see papa bowling!” Peanut-man declared triumphantly.
“Nu-uh! You don’t know!” Peanut-butter stated trying to get the upper hand.
Peanut, ever the peacemaker, raised her voice above the din of the argument brewing across the table, “There is a way we can know! In the morning we can go into mama and papa’s room. If there is a trophy there that means that papa was bowling!”
Cheers of approval from both sides of the table revealed their enthusiasm as to the validity and rightness of this plan to verify mama and papa’s extracurricular activities. The unanimous observation was completely founded on logic (in their heart): If papa is indeed bowling then a trophy will be the sure proof of this activity.
In conclusion: Papa bowling = a trophy won.
All in their jammies this morning my little nuts gathered around the gleaming white trophy in the shape of a bowling pin. The comments were varied.
“You got another one?” Peanut-butter clarified.
“How many of those do you have now?” Peanut asked with proud grin on her face.
“Is this one bigger than the last one?” Peanut-man implored with eyes wide inspecting the first-place, city-wide championship prize.
Nutmeg just watched and listened, contented to be in the middle of the mix as his papa showed the trophy to his ever adoring and most faithful fans. Someday they might actually get to see him win one of those things; when the championship is not held past their bed-time.
Tuesday, November 27
‘Sup Cuz’
My mom’s sister’s son’s wife (yeah – the wife of my cousin) has a blog you might like to check out. If you stop by leave a comment to let her know you were there. Go. Read. Enjoy.
The link: www.awordygirl.blogspot.com
The link: www.awordygirl.blogspot.com
Monday, November 26
Lover Fighter
Some correlated phrases have popped out to me over these past two days.
My husband was musing about a new project that he wants to start. Amazed at his tenacity I looked over and playfully prodded him by saying, “Why ya’ always tryin’ ta’ start stuff?” He gave me an imploring look. I explained further, “Why are you always trying to pick a fight with the enemy? You are always on the offensive starting stuff and picking fights.” He just smiled knowingly and returned to his reverie.
Mondays I go to pray at the 24/7 prayer center that we have in our city. So this afternoon I chatted with the director who is also my friend before I headed in. Walking towards the door I said, “I’m going in.” Which is a phrase usually heard yelled forcefully over the noise of bullets and bombs in a war scene of an action movie as a soldier goes in to engage in battle.
Often the life of a Christian takes on the characteristics of a fight. At times this wears on me; at others I am fully prepared and ready to go at it. So I was thinking about these fight phrases and realized that I am a fighter. But going deeper than that I am a lover. I wouldn’t fight against the forces of evil if I were not motivated by love. I fight for those I love. I am a lover. I am a fighter.
My husband was musing about a new project that he wants to start. Amazed at his tenacity I looked over and playfully prodded him by saying, “Why ya’ always tryin’ ta’ start stuff?” He gave me an imploring look. I explained further, “Why are you always trying to pick a fight with the enemy? You are always on the offensive starting stuff and picking fights.” He just smiled knowingly and returned to his reverie.
Mondays I go to pray at the 24/7 prayer center that we have in our city. So this afternoon I chatted with the director who is also my friend before I headed in. Walking towards the door I said, “I’m going in.” Which is a phrase usually heard yelled forcefully over the noise of bullets and bombs in a war scene of an action movie as a soldier goes in to engage in battle.
Often the life of a Christian takes on the characteristics of a fight. At times this wears on me; at others I am fully prepared and ready to go at it. So I was thinking about these fight phrases and realized that I am a fighter. But going deeper than that I am a lover. I wouldn’t fight against the forces of evil if I were not motivated by love. I fight for those I love. I am a lover. I am a fighter.
Friday, November 23
Uyuni, Bolivia
You can click once on the show and then slide your mouse pointer over the pictures to read the captions.
Back Home
I got back home this morning. I was so happy to see my husband – today is our 11th wedding anniversary. Yeah! I was glad to see the kids too – they all look bigger to me. The trip was phenomenal! I will post some pictures later. Oh – a typo in the previous post (grin) Tyler is 14 months old, not 22. I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. Today is supposed to be the biggest shopping day of the year in the States. Did anybody brave the jungle, I mean malls?
Monday, November 19
Mini-vacation!
Tomorrow morning I am going to be accompanying my friend Marisol and her father on a mini-vacation to the Salar de Uyuni. (Google it if you have never heard of it before.) We will be back early Friday morning. DaRonn is going to be staying with the kids. This will be the first time I have left Tyler (22 months old) with someone else. I am so excited!!! This little bitty town doesn’t have reliable internet – so I won’t be around blogland for a few days. So – Happy Thanksgiving to all my American readers – and we’ll see you all soon!
Thursday, November 15
Good Boy!
When we first began ministering to children back in High School for our church’s Sunday school our pastor trained us. I remember he told us more than once, “There are no bad children. We will never say to a child, ‘You are a bad child’. They may have poor behavior; but the child is not bad.”
That has stuck with me. It has helped greatly when extreme forgiveness is required on my behalf to remind myself that this person has done something that has hurt me, but I can forgive them because God has placed worth in this individual. As I was pondering this recently I thought of some statements that I wanted to share.
There are no bad people, just people who choose bad behavior.
There are no good people, just people who choose good behavior.
There are no wrong people, just people who make wrong judgments.
There are no right people, just people who make right judgments.
There are no ugly people, just people to whom society has given that label.
There are no pretty people, just people to whom society has given that label.
There are no disabled people, just people who have been given unique abilities.
There are no capable people, just people who have developed certain skills.
There are no superstars, just people who get a bit more attention than others.
There are no superheroes, just people who give a bit more attention to others.
After all the measurements have been taken of bad, good, wrong, right, talents, abilities and appearances, at the end of the day we are all just people. And the worth we possess and the worth we relegate to others is purely and solely based on the simple yet profound truth that God thinks each individual is valuable, eternal and worth the effort.
If you hear nothing else today, hear this: God loves YOU.
That has stuck with me. It has helped greatly when extreme forgiveness is required on my behalf to remind myself that this person has done something that has hurt me, but I can forgive them because God has placed worth in this individual. As I was pondering this recently I thought of some statements that I wanted to share.
There are no bad people, just people who choose bad behavior.
There are no good people, just people who choose good behavior.
There are no wrong people, just people who make wrong judgments.
There are no right people, just people who make right judgments.
There are no ugly people, just people to whom society has given that label.
There are no pretty people, just people to whom society has given that label.
There are no disabled people, just people who have been given unique abilities.
There are no capable people, just people who have developed certain skills.
There are no superstars, just people who get a bit more attention than others.
There are no superheroes, just people who give a bit more attention to others.
After all the measurements have been taken of bad, good, wrong, right, talents, abilities and appearances, at the end of the day we are all just people. And the worth we possess and the worth we relegate to others is purely and solely based on the simple yet profound truth that God thinks each individual is valuable, eternal and worth the effort.
If you hear nothing else today, hear this: God loves YOU.
Wednesday, November 14
Video for the Orphanage
It seems that there are a few people having trouble with the video link in the previous post below. Maybe you can see it with the Blogger Player.
Monday, November 12
A Voice for the Dreamers
The day this photo was taken we were just hanging out with the kids who live at our orphanage. We named it “House of Dreams Orphanage” because we believe that the kids who receive care from us will be able to dream big dreams for their lives.
As I sat there one of the little girls came up and whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t quite make out her sweet lispy whisper but she turned my head towards hers with her hands and threw back her head laughing from the bottom of her gut. I couldn’t help but laughing with her. It became a game with the other kiddos around and we laughed hard for quite a while.
I thought about that later. How is it that this little girl is able to play and laugh? She has every right to be depressed and complain. Think about it… no parents, taken from everything familiar, has to adapt to a new way of life, and who knows what kind of memories plague that 4 year old mind. And yet she laughs. Could I say that I would do the same placed in circumstances of similar gravity?
DaRonn put together a two minute video that I would like you to watch. Click on this image to link through.
As I sat there one of the little girls came up and whispered something in my ear. I couldn’t quite make out her sweet lispy whisper but she turned my head towards hers with her hands and threw back her head laughing from the bottom of her gut. I couldn’t help but laughing with her. It became a game with the other kiddos around and we laughed hard for quite a while.
I thought about that later. How is it that this little girl is able to play and laugh? She has every right to be depressed and complain. Think about it… no parents, taken from everything familiar, has to adapt to a new way of life, and who knows what kind of memories plague that 4 year old mind. And yet she laughs. Could I say that I would do the same placed in circumstances of similar gravity?
DaRonn put together a two minute video that I would like you to watch. Click on this image to link through.
If after watching this video you would like to become financially involved with the “House of Dreams Orphanage” then you can follow the giving instructions listed here and write us an email to let us know you want to get involved at: houseofdreamsorphanage@juno.com
Christ Nation Ministries – DaRonn and Angie Washington
PO BOX 8644 – St. Joseph, MO 64508
Checks must be made out to WOLC with Washington – Bolivia on the envelope and not on the check.
http://www.christnationministries.org/
Thanks for thinking of these little ones in your prayers.
Friday, November 9
Double Dare
Is there anybody else out there that loved the kids t.v. game show “Double Dare”? We loved it at our house. The play is simple: the host asked one team of kids a question, if they couldn’t answer it then they would dare the other team, then the other team had the option of answering to earn points towards cash or double daring the first team, the double dared team then had to successfully complete a physical challenge to earn the points. We ALWAYS wanted them to do the physical challenge! They were fun, messy, and loud and always involved big props like slides, huge balls, gallons of slime and vats of goo.
Wednesday night I felt a Double Dare coming on during my monthly women’s group “Entre Nosotras” at church. So I acted on my urge today and set up a Spanish blog. It is going to have devo style that challenges readers to think, in 200 words or less. The physical challenge will be my ability to write in Spanish. I say, “Bring it on!” I am really looking forward to this.
So if you know of anyone who speaks Spanish then please get the word out of this new blog: existencia compartida (shared existence). Thanks ahead of time! Here is the link: http://existenciacompartida.blogspot.com/
Wednesday night I felt a Double Dare coming on during my monthly women’s group “Entre Nosotras” at church. So I acted on my urge today and set up a Spanish blog. It is going to have devo style that challenges readers to think, in 200 words or less. The physical challenge will be my ability to write in Spanish. I say, “Bring it on!” I am really looking forward to this.
So if you know of anyone who speaks Spanish then please get the word out of this new blog: existencia compartida (shared existence). Thanks ahead of time! Here is the link: http://existenciacompartida.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, November 7
Bowling Champ
Acting upon good advice my husband has recently acquired some pass-times. One of those is bowling. He has formed a bowling team with members of the church and Tuesday nights they all don their team t-shirts and have a blast at the one and only bowling ally in this city.
Each month they break into groups of 3 and have a championship. DaRonn’s was on the winning team this month. They had so much fun! Here are some pictures. You will also notice that DaRonn’s name is on the board for the men’s division of high scores. This is for all the players of the city, mind you!
Click here to see a slide show of the event.
Each month they break into groups of 3 and have a championship. DaRonn’s was on the winning team this month. They had so much fun! Here are some pictures. You will also notice that DaRonn’s name is on the board for the men’s division of high scores. This is for all the players of the city, mind you!
Click here to see a slide show of the event.
Sunday, November 4
A Mountainous Week
As my American week draws to a close there are some mountains that have been conquered by my able bodied crew (AKA: the Washington family) that you might like to know about.
A mountain of dishes have been washed
A mountain of clothes have been cleaned
A mountain of school work accomplished
A mountain of fun had with papa in the evenings
A mountain of fun had driving
A mountain of fun had with a new friend, Denise
A mountain of steps were climbed on the side of an actual mountain
A mountain of fruits and veggies were bought at the market
A mountain of help was given to us by friends
A mountain of love and bonding was forged within our family by working together
Ten mountains climbed. It always amazes me how changed I feel after times like these outside of our regular routine. It is so revealing to get a different perspective when you do the same thing in a different way.
Saturday, November 3
Video Link
During his last trip to the States my husband DaRonn (I love you baby!) was asked to do an interview at our home sending church Word of Life Church in Saint Joseph, Missouri. Our connection to this church is profound and powerful. We share an anniversary. The first day of Word of Life was November first, 26 years ago. Per the previous post you know that the same date marked our 6th year on the field. The founding and head pastors, Brian and Peri Zahnd are dear, dear people. They have a passion for Jesus and are making a huge impact not only in the town of St. Joe, but around the world.
Click here to see the video they did with DaRonn.
You can browse around on the Word of Life site, it’s pretty cool.
Click here to see the video they did with DaRonn.
You can browse around on the Word of Life site, it’s pretty cool.
Thursday, November 1
Six of One Half a Dozen of the Other
This saying implies the futility of an argument due to the semantics of the issue. It also is the resolution one makes when trying to decide between two options that have similar outcomes. But today it serves as nothing more than a cute title for my blog. (smile!)
Today the Washington family celebrates 6 years as full-time, career, cross-cultural, take-up-your-cross, leave-it-all-on-the-field, go-all-out, in-it-to-win-it, no-turning-back, living-by-faith, living-it-up, radical, real-life missionaries.
Looking back over the last six years I can see all that God accomplished with our lives. But I can’t look that direction for very long, because it puts a crick in my neck. Also because I know that there is so much more before us. This is just the beginning!
Thank you to everyone who has helped us reach this mark by praying, giving, visiting, encouraging, emailing, calling, instant messaging, laughing, crying, baby sitting, teaching, preaching, prodding and loving my family and me. It would have been absolutely impossible without you.
Today the Washington family celebrates 6 years as full-time, career, cross-cultural, take-up-your-cross, leave-it-all-on-the-field, go-all-out, in-it-to-win-it, no-turning-back, living-by-faith, living-it-up, radical, real-life missionaries.
Looking back over the last six years I can see all that God accomplished with our lives. But I can’t look that direction for very long, because it puts a crick in my neck. Also because I know that there is so much more before us. This is just the beginning!
Thank you to everyone who has helped us reach this mark by praying, giving, visiting, encouraging, emailing, calling, instant messaging, laughing, crying, baby sitting, teaching, preaching, prodding and loving my family and me. It would have been absolutely impossible without you.
Monday, October 29
American Days
A friend found me on Yahoo chat today to ask me if we could go out for dinner together this week. I explained my lack of a vital component to the success of such an excursion: house help. She said, “Ah, so you are an American Mom this week.”
I have felt so very American these last few days. I am so glad I have a comprehensive husband who is pitching in and helping with the kids. He even did the grocery shopping and picked up something for dinner while he was out. Then when he got back he said, “Why don’t you go to the gym?” He knows that is something I enjoy doing (very nice after a full day of home schooling and caring for a teething toddler). When I got back he and my son were finishing up on the mountain of dishes.
Some missionaries who live up the street asked me to watch their three young children for them the other day while they finished up packing for a three month furlough. So that even our family’s social activities had an American flavor, with a hint of Spanglish to spice things up of course. Have you ever watched Snow White in Spanish? Early Sunday morning I helped them get to the airport. We said Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year before hugs and farewell. I miss them! We are car-sitting for them while they are gone. (Thank you so much guys!!!) So I even feel more American in “my” truck / SUV with my kids all strapped down in the back. We are in the process of raising funds for our own car, so this is just whetting my appetite even more. Driving is one of my most favorite things to do.
I will just end by saying first Go Red Sox, second my heart goes out to the Californians devestated by fires and finally please enjoy some seasonal Peeps for me (those crunchy marshmallow treats are the best).
I have felt so very American these last few days. I am so glad I have a comprehensive husband who is pitching in and helping with the kids. He even did the grocery shopping and picked up something for dinner while he was out. Then when he got back he said, “Why don’t you go to the gym?” He knows that is something I enjoy doing (very nice after a full day of home schooling and caring for a teething toddler). When I got back he and my son were finishing up on the mountain of dishes.
Some missionaries who live up the street asked me to watch their three young children for them the other day while they finished up packing for a three month furlough. So that even our family’s social activities had an American flavor, with a hint of Spanglish to spice things up of course. Have you ever watched Snow White in Spanish? Early Sunday morning I helped them get to the airport. We said Happy Thanksgiving, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year before hugs and farewell. I miss them! We are car-sitting for them while they are gone. (Thank you so much guys!!!) So I even feel more American in “my” truck / SUV with my kids all strapped down in the back. We are in the process of raising funds for our own car, so this is just whetting my appetite even more. Driving is one of my most favorite things to do.
I will just end by saying first Go Red Sox, second my heart goes out to the Californians devestated by fires and finally please enjoy some seasonal Peeps for me (those crunchy marshmallow treats are the best).
Friday, October 26
I Love My Church
Last night (Thursday) we had our mid-week service. My husband, our pastor, started a very interesting series last week. I am loving it.
He is looking at the lives of certain people throughout history and the relationship that they had with God; people like Martin Luther, Mother Teresa, Soren Kierkegaard, Billy Graham and other personal heroes that have impacted, and continue to mark his life.
Last night we looked at Martin Luther, very good stuff. Here are some morsels…
From the life of Martin Luther we learn to love a seemingly frustrating God. But it is not God who is frustrating, rather our misconceptions about God and the things of God that cause us to become frustrated.
We become frustrated when we find that God is not who we have always thought he was.
We become frustrated when religious models turn out to be inaccurate.
We become frustrated when we try to make good works do something they were not meant to do.
Loving a frustrating God:
Hebrews 11:6 “And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.”
Isaiah 55:8-9 "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.”
Martin Luther said:
“The evil of good works comes when we consider good works as the payment for spiritual benefits and blessings. A sort of payment that gives us access to something that you really desire. It is in these instances that good works become a vice of the devil distracting us and giving us a false hope.”
DaRonn Washington said:
“A search for God through an inaccurate religious model will always lead you to frustration. God places that frustration within you to force you to examine your ways. It is in this way that frustration with your own religious expression can be your best friend.”
I especially enjoyed being challenged to let the frustrations I encounter push me towards seeking God and his kingdom thus stripping away the misconceptions and replacing them with a freeing truth.
He is looking at the lives of certain people throughout history and the relationship that they had with God; people like Martin Luther, Mother Teresa, Soren Kierkegaard, Billy Graham and other personal heroes that have impacted, and continue to mark his life.
Last night we looked at Martin Luther, very good stuff. Here are some morsels…
From the life of Martin Luther we learn to love a seemingly frustrating God. But it is not God who is frustrating, rather our misconceptions about God and the things of God that cause us to become frustrated.
We become frustrated when we find that God is not who we have always thought he was.
We become frustrated when religious models turn out to be inaccurate.
We become frustrated when we try to make good works do something they were not meant to do.
Loving a frustrating God:
Hebrews 11:6 “And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him.”
Isaiah 55:8-9 "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways And My thoughts than your thoughts.”
Martin Luther said:
“The evil of good works comes when we consider good works as the payment for spiritual benefits and blessings. A sort of payment that gives us access to something that you really desire. It is in these instances that good works become a vice of the devil distracting us and giving us a false hope.”
DaRonn Washington said:
“A search for God through an inaccurate religious model will always lead you to frustration. God places that frustration within you to force you to examine your ways. It is in this way that frustration with your own religious expression can be your best friend.”
I especially enjoyed being challenged to let the frustrations I encounter push me towards seeking God and his kingdom thus stripping away the misconceptions and replacing them with a freeing truth.
Thursday, October 25
My Man Loves Mii!
At the risk of sounding completely self-centered this post is all about me and Mii. (smile) We are now the proud owners of a Wii gaming system thanks to the man of the house my wonderful husband DaRonn. With the game you can create characters that look just like you to play with. It is quite fun. Here is my Mii standing next to DaRonn's Mii:
In other autobiographical news… I got my hair cut last night. It has been quite a while since I had it this short. I really like it! As I was searching for a before picture I realized that I had my long hair in a pony tail most of the time. So I am glad that I have a style now that is easy to manage and won’t be pulled back all the time. Best of all my man was the one who had the idea; we both like it. (Photos by my 9 year old, Raimy)
Before:
After:
In other autobiographical news… I got my hair cut last night. It has been quite a while since I had it this short. I really like it! As I was searching for a before picture I realized that I had my long hair in a pony tail most of the time. So I am glad that I have a style now that is easy to manage and won’t be pulled back all the time. Best of all my man was the one who had the idea; we both like it. (Photos by my 9 year old, Raimy)
Before:
After:
Wednesday, October 24
100th Post
To commemorate my 100th post I am going to make a link list of some of my favorite posts up to this point.
My Hubby’s Home
I love my kids
Cochabamba, Bolivia at a Glance
Neighboring Market
Basement Beginnings 5 part series
What --> Who
American Weekends
Clouds, Cochabamba?, Customs and Computer Connections
Waiting for You
Las Gradas (The Stairs)
SE TU MISMO
You all right?
My Hubby’s Home
I love my kids
Cochabamba, Bolivia at a Glance
Neighboring Market
Basement Beginnings 5 part series
What --> Who
American Weekends
Clouds, Cochabamba?, Customs and Computer Connections
Waiting for You
Las Gradas (The Stairs)
SE TU MISMO
You all right?
Saturday, October 20
Dear Danny’s Dilemma
Extenuating circumstances contributed to a fatigued climb this bright clear morning. Last night’s rain had unforeseen effects beyond complicating the cold my climbing partner is trying to fight off. Who could have known that the doom of Danny’s messages would come with the downpour?
Only muddy puddles remained on the steps. The anonymous yet encouraging author had made a slight oversight by using a non-permanent marker to inscribe the passages of hope to our mysterious Danny. Left was unintelligible graffiti sure to disappear completely with the impending rains.
Waxing nostalgic we desperately searched for the messages; mostly because they would have served as a great aid in our journey today. This came to no avail.
Reaching the end of the ascent our ears perked up as we heard a voice call out, “Vamos Danny. Vamos.” [Let’s go Danny. Let’s go.] We looked around. A mother was encouraging her young boy of 5 or 6 to catch up. Could this be our infamous Danny? We glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and shook our head in doubt. Simultaneously we reassumed our hike in the same dubious fashion regarding the hope of finding the final message: Danny te quiero [Danny I love you].
Yes! It was there, faded yet readable! And what is to become of the messages?
I wonder about the message of the gospel. It has miraculously survived millennia. The Author was not foolish in the choosing of his writing instrument. He chose a crimson ink that would endure for eternity. And though the stone we tread upon today is strong, it still is corruptible and will wear away. The Author of the eternal love story wrote his message on the hearts of humans. He did this so that the generations to come will know the truth that will pull them through the hardest of climbs in the journey of life.
What has he carefully written on your heart that has encouraged you to continue? Are these impenetrable messages neatly locked away? Or are you letting them be seen by other journeyers along the path? Even through torrential storms you can be assured that the messages of hope written on your heart will never fade.
Only muddy puddles remained on the steps. The anonymous yet encouraging author had made a slight oversight by using a non-permanent marker to inscribe the passages of hope to our mysterious Danny. Left was unintelligible graffiti sure to disappear completely with the impending rains.
Waxing nostalgic we desperately searched for the messages; mostly because they would have served as a great aid in our journey today. This came to no avail.
Reaching the end of the ascent our ears perked up as we heard a voice call out, “Vamos Danny. Vamos.” [Let’s go Danny. Let’s go.] We looked around. A mother was encouraging her young boy of 5 or 6 to catch up. Could this be our infamous Danny? We glanced at each other with raised eyebrows and shook our head in doubt. Simultaneously we reassumed our hike in the same dubious fashion regarding the hope of finding the final message: Danny te quiero [Danny I love you].
Yes! It was there, faded yet readable! And what is to become of the messages?
I wonder about the message of the gospel. It has miraculously survived millennia. The Author was not foolish in the choosing of his writing instrument. He chose a crimson ink that would endure for eternity. And though the stone we tread upon today is strong, it still is corruptible and will wear away. The Author of the eternal love story wrote his message on the hearts of humans. He did this so that the generations to come will know the truth that will pull them through the hardest of climbs in the journey of life.
What has he carefully written on your heart that has encouraged you to continue? Are these impenetrable messages neatly locked away? Or are you letting them be seen by other journeyers along the path? Even through torrential storms you can be assured that the messages of hope written on your heart will never fade.
Friday, October 19
Markers and Outliers
Unknown to every tiny baby there exists in this world a system of markers and outliers that separate and categorize unique individuals in nice little boxes and slots. And though we are born as a one-of-a-kind creation we spend much of our later growing up years trying to become a one-size-fits-all conglomerate mock up of all we have been told is approved and acceptable. It is not our intention to place these requirements on others; we just do it. It is not our intention to try to fit in; we just do it.
These same segregation attitudes have infiltrated the church system as well. We mark people based on what they do or do not do, what they do or do not wear, how they speak, who they hang out with, and even the material goods they own or do not own.
Would you believe that this even happens in the missionary world? Again – it is unintentional – but it does happen. For reasons I am still trying to understand it was not until this year that I have allowed myself to become close friends with other missionaries. And as I am branching out getting to know other people (and really enjoying myself doing it) I have been surprised to find these markers present. Markers like your sending organization or lack thereof, kids or no kids or how many kids, language learning style, the education of your children, long term or short term, and we have not even begun to talk about the type of ministry you do.
Intentionality breaks through the stereotypes to a place where diversity is treasured and division is diminished.
The choice to not judge, to not compartmentalize individuals, to not form prejudices is mine. Just because a certain person with a specific characteristic behaved a certain way in the past does not mean that another person with a similar characteristic is going to behave in a similar fashion. It would be contradictory if I were to assume that all people make these generalizations. Given the chance people will always surprise you.
This post is not a complaint – rather it is simply an observation of the way things are and the way that I have chosen to respond. It is a nice fringe benefit if you were challenged by these observations.
These same segregation attitudes have infiltrated the church system as well. We mark people based on what they do or do not do, what they do or do not wear, how they speak, who they hang out with, and even the material goods they own or do not own.
Would you believe that this even happens in the missionary world? Again – it is unintentional – but it does happen. For reasons I am still trying to understand it was not until this year that I have allowed myself to become close friends with other missionaries. And as I am branching out getting to know other people (and really enjoying myself doing it) I have been surprised to find these markers present. Markers like your sending organization or lack thereof, kids or no kids or how many kids, language learning style, the education of your children, long term or short term, and we have not even begun to talk about the type of ministry you do.
Intentionality breaks through the stereotypes to a place where diversity is treasured and division is diminished.
The choice to not judge, to not compartmentalize individuals, to not form prejudices is mine. Just because a certain person with a specific characteristic behaved a certain way in the past does not mean that another person with a similar characteristic is going to behave in a similar fashion. It would be contradictory if I were to assume that all people make these generalizations. Given the chance people will always surprise you.
This post is not a complaint – rather it is simply an observation of the way things are and the way that I have chosen to respond. It is a nice fringe benefit if you were challenged by these observations.
Sunday, October 14
What do you think?
An intriguing conversation with my 9 year old daughter:
Her: Mom, why do we call people in church brother and sister?
Me: Because God is our Father.
Her: So who’s the mother?
Me: Can I get back to you on that one?
Her: I have asked other people that and they don’t know either.
Her: Mom, why do we call people in church brother and sister?
Me: Because God is our Father.
Her: So who’s the mother?
Me: Can I get back to you on that one?
Her: I have asked other people that and they don’t know either.
Thursday, October 11
Birthday Boy
I think 8 year olds are some of the most wonderful creations God decided to place on his great green earth. Really, it is such a fun age. Well today my Timothy is now 8! Here is a picture of him at the restaurant of his choice Panchita, a chicken joint with a huge play area to crawl around in. His lunch is nuggets and fries on top of his pop; the straw sticks up through so you can sip while you munch. To see a video of his record obstacle course run click through to our family blog here.
Tuesday, October 9
Rich
You know, I think that sometimes it is good to step back and follow the advice of that old adage, “Count your blessings”. One thing that I am so grateful to the Lord for is the abundance of new people that I have met in my line of work as a missionary. The most fabulous part is to revel in our diversity. I feel rich.
This is a friend from Brazil named Karen.
Saturday, October 6
Messages to Danny
Though I have walked those hundreds of stairs to the statue of Christ more times than I can count we saw something we have never seen before on our climb last week. Today I took my camera. These messages were found written on the steps spaced all the way going up. The author is anonymous.
Danny: Every effort has it's reward
Take it easy
Don't give up
Danny I love you
This final one was a part of another series numbering the steps, but I thought it was nice continuation to the encouraging messages.
Thursday, October 4
Children’s Literature
I have always been fascinated by children’s fantasy literature. Just recently I finished reading Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass. Also this year I read Peter Pan and I am currently reading aloud to my children Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tales. My collection of Oz books is extensive, yet not complete. And who can’t love stepping into Narnia for the afternoon?
I could go on. But I wanted to share a quote by G.K. Chesterton taken from his essay “The Dragon’s Grandmother” in his book Tremendous Trifles about the topic of children’s fantasy literature. I would like to read that book; alas I do not own it. I found this as only part of an article I read.
I could go on. But I wanted to share a quote by G.K. Chesterton taken from his essay “The Dragon’s Grandmother” in his book Tremendous Trifles about the topic of children’s fantasy literature. I would like to read that book; alas I do not own it. I found this as only part of an article I read.
“Can you not see that fairy tales in their essence are quite solid and straightforward; but this everlasting fiction about modern life is in its nature essentially incredible? Folk-lore means that the soul is sane, but that the universe is wild and full of marvels. Realism means that the world is dull and full of routine, but that the soul is sick and screaming. The problem of the fairy tale is – what will a healthy man do with a fantastic world? The problem of the modern novel is – what will a madman do with a dull world? In the fairy tales the cosmos goes mad; but the hero does not go mad. In the modern novels the hero is mad before the book begins, and suffers from the harsh steadiness and cruel sanity of the cosmos.”
Wednesday, October 3
Names and Reminiscing
Ok - for some RIDICULOUSLY EMBARRASSING reason in the foolishness of my youth I failed to write down LAST NAMES! Grrrr. (It is one of my very few regrets in life.) Anyway, so here are the FIRST NAMES of the people with me in the raft that time around in the photos below .
Herbie
Cara
Bendu (guide)
Amy
Shae
Nate
Dave Dejoy (thanks Alece)
BTW: I made the infamous post-climb (see comments on Chains or Safety Restraints) twice since I was a 2-monther but it must have been really bad and my subconscious is blocking it from torturing me because I don't have the slightest memory of it. I do remember the treacherous decent to get to the rafts and the weird lunch we all devoured, though. I really hope that I get to go back to that wonderful part of the world sometime. I have not one bad memory from my time there (even when they confiscated our passports and held Michelle in a back room for a very long time when we were hopping the border during middle trip; it all worked out and was a great adventure!), absolutely all good memories.
Herbie
Cara
Bendu (guide)
Amy
Shae
Nate
Dave Dejoy (thanks Alece)
BTW: I made the infamous post-climb (see comments on Chains or Safety Restraints) twice since I was a 2-monther but it must have been really bad and my subconscious is blocking it from torturing me because I don't have the slightest memory of it. I do remember the treacherous decent to get to the rafts and the weird lunch we all devoured, though. I really hope that I get to go back to that wonderful part of the world sometime. I have not one bad memory from my time there (even when they confiscated our passports and held Michelle in a back room for a very long time when we were hopping the border during middle trip; it all worked out and was a great adventure!), absolutely all good memories.
Tuesday, October 2
Chains or Safety Restraints
Here is a little glimpse at part of my message for this coming Sunday morning while DaRonn is in St. Joseph Missouri for a conference at one of the most wonderful churches in the world: Word of Life Church.
Romans 6:18 (NIV) You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.
(White water rafting on the Zambezi River 1996. I am the one giving the thumbs up. Amy is the one on the far left with the blue helmet. This is a picture of a picture, so the quality is a bit low.)
We were completely free to throw ourselves into the rapids. We would have died – eventually – if we had done so. The restraints (helmet, life vest, raft, paddles, and guide) were there so that we could freely enjoy the ride.
Trade in your concept of “chains” for the concept of “safety restraints”. So that when you hear God tell you to do something it is not received as if God was trying to chain you down. Rather view it as if God was trying to put safety restraints on you to help you enjoy the ride of life.
Romans 6:18 (NIV) You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.
(White water rafting on the Zambezi River 1996. I am the one giving the thumbs up. Amy is the one on the far left with the blue helmet. This is a picture of a picture, so the quality is a bit low.)
We were completely free to throw ourselves into the rapids. We would have died – eventually – if we had done so. The restraints (helmet, life vest, raft, paddles, and guide) were there so that we could freely enjoy the ride.
Trade in your concept of “chains” for the concept of “safety restraints”. So that when you hear God tell you to do something it is not received as if God was trying to chain you down. Rather view it as if God was trying to put safety restraints on you to help you enjoy the ride of life.
Monday, October 1
You all right?
Looming before her is the whitewashed staircase. She hesitates and tries to calm her elevated heart rate, “Breathe. You’ve done this before. It’s going to be ok.” But is it really? It’s been so long since she has stepped foot in such a place. Mixed emotions swirl as her foot slowly steps on the first stair.
On the other side of town another thirty-something, also motivated partially by guilt, stands before a different edifice staircase. She too has postponed this defining moment not knowing exactly if she would be accepted. Her heart races, as well, as she digs deep searching for courage. Her hand catches the rail to steady her slightly week knees.
The two women share a common fear: is it going to be all right? Though still in the prime of their lives past experiences berate their minds and cloud their choices. They know the correct thing to do; but the thought of following through seems too great to bear.
They may have shared fears, yet set before them are very different prospects. One woman is standing before a gym, the other before a church. Both are asking themselves if it is worth it. Both are scrutinizing themselves to be sure that the past hurts and failures do not reoccur.
They both choose to enter.
The first woman receives with her gym membership a complementary medical evaluation. At the end of the appointment the doctor smiles and tells her that she should continue with the exercise and a healthy diet. Then he says the words that bring relief to her worried mind, “You are in the normal range with all the examinations that we performed.” She makes him repeat himself to be sure she heard correctly. In other words it is going to be ok. In other words she is ok, normal, acceptable.
The second woman climbs the steps to the church building. Knowing full well that there are things to keep hidden while in such a sacred place she has purposely arrived after the commencement and tries to keep her head bent down; maybe the people will mistake the shameful posture for reverence and piety. She slips in the back row so as to provide a quick exit should escape prove necessary. Towards the end of the message a phrase catches her attention and she pulls her head up so as to be sure that she heard correctly. Is this man saying the truth? She in all her faults, shortcomings and blatant sin is loved? Yes, that is what he is saying. That God chose her; called her precious and loved her. In other words it is going to be ok. In other words she is ok, normal, acceptable.
The first woman’s fears were calmed after she learned that things she had done had placed her in an acceptable rank. The second woman’s fears were calmed when she knew that there was absolutely nothing that she could do personally to place her in the rank of acceptable, but that she had been carefully and purposefully placed in that position by another greater that she.
On the other side of town another thirty-something, also motivated partially by guilt, stands before a different edifice staircase. She too has postponed this defining moment not knowing exactly if she would be accepted. Her heart races, as well, as she digs deep searching for courage. Her hand catches the rail to steady her slightly week knees.
The two women share a common fear: is it going to be all right? Though still in the prime of their lives past experiences berate their minds and cloud their choices. They know the correct thing to do; but the thought of following through seems too great to bear.
They may have shared fears, yet set before them are very different prospects. One woman is standing before a gym, the other before a church. Both are asking themselves if it is worth it. Both are scrutinizing themselves to be sure that the past hurts and failures do not reoccur.
They both choose to enter.
The first woman receives with her gym membership a complementary medical evaluation. At the end of the appointment the doctor smiles and tells her that she should continue with the exercise and a healthy diet. Then he says the words that bring relief to her worried mind, “You are in the normal range with all the examinations that we performed.” She makes him repeat himself to be sure she heard correctly. In other words it is going to be ok. In other words she is ok, normal, acceptable.
The second woman climbs the steps to the church building. Knowing full well that there are things to keep hidden while in such a sacred place she has purposely arrived after the commencement and tries to keep her head bent down; maybe the people will mistake the shameful posture for reverence and piety. She slips in the back row so as to provide a quick exit should escape prove necessary. Towards the end of the message a phrase catches her attention and she pulls her head up so as to be sure that she heard correctly. Is this man saying the truth? She in all her faults, shortcomings and blatant sin is loved? Yes, that is what he is saying. That God chose her; called her precious and loved her. In other words it is going to be ok. In other words she is ok, normal, acceptable.
The first woman’s fears were calmed after she learned that things she had done had placed her in an acceptable rank. The second woman’s fears were calmed when she knew that there was absolutely nothing that she could do personally to place her in the rank of acceptable, but that she had been carefully and purposefully placed in that position by another greater that she.
Friday, September 28
While We Wait
My thoughts are fermenting. When they are ready we will pop the cork and revel in the intoxicating delectability of an aged spirited piece.
Until then… I am on wireless sitting next to the tub watching my water-bug play with his bath toys and splash around. The invigorating smell of soap is in my nostrils. And, since I have nothing else at the moment, I will rely on our good friend Dr. Seuss and share this blogg with you from his inspiring work “The Shape of Me and Other Stuff”.
Until then… I am on wireless sitting next to the tub watching my water-bug play with his bath toys and splash around. The invigorating smell of soap is in my nostrils. And, since I have nothing else at the moment, I will rely on our good friend Dr. Seuss and share this blogg with you from his inspiring work “The Shape of Me and Other Stuff”.
Friday, September 21
Forum Question
Does success inspire or intimidate?
(Please add your thoughts in the comment section below)
(Please add your thoughts in the comment section below)
Tuesday, September 18
Friday, September 14
Perfect Peace
Have you ever shaken a soda pop just to see what happened? At times our wee ones are driven by this infantile desire to test the limits.
The dreary monotony of yet another bed time battle loomed before the weary mother. She was the carbonated beverage in the bottle; and her children were the hands wrapped tightly around shaking and jostling half for the fun of it and half to see how far they could push the limit.
Regretting her previous impatient reactions in similar situations she clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut tight desperately trying to regain control. Distaining the impending tears and pounding headache, she knew there had to be another way!
In a twinge of pity she scooped up the fussy toddler and set him in her lap. He writhed and wriggled. Breathing out a prayer she begged God to give her child peace. Almost immediately he ceded. She lifted her son to his bed. Two words came to her: perfect peace. The others came pleading for a story, “Tell me a story! Tell me a story!” As they repeated the demand a new idea seeped into her mind. It brought with it hope.
Could there be a connection to perfect peace? The whole verse reads, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.” Slowly the cap of the bottle was turned letting the pressure out as she breathed a hopeful whisper, “Storytelling!” That was it! Stories are a path to peace, an irresistible way that a mind is channeled into trusting the teller.
She began to let her imagination run. The stories would bring the peace the house needed. Could it be that this is the reason that the bible is full of stories instead of pragmatic points and formulas? Yes! God wants us to trust Him. He knows that if we trust him then we will have perfect peace. But how can he create that trust? By hearing his stories we believe if it happened before it can happen again. We have perfect peace when our mind is stayed on God. We stay our mind on him by replaying the ancient stories handed down for generations.
We connect to truth, faith, trust and peace with the all familiar line, “Once upon a time in a land far far away…”
The dreary monotony of yet another bed time battle loomed before the weary mother. She was the carbonated beverage in the bottle; and her children were the hands wrapped tightly around shaking and jostling half for the fun of it and half to see how far they could push the limit.
Regretting her previous impatient reactions in similar situations she clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut tight desperately trying to regain control. Distaining the impending tears and pounding headache, she knew there had to be another way!
In a twinge of pity she scooped up the fussy toddler and set him in her lap. He writhed and wriggled. Breathing out a prayer she begged God to give her child peace. Almost immediately he ceded. She lifted her son to his bed. Two words came to her: perfect peace. The others came pleading for a story, “Tell me a story! Tell me a story!” As they repeated the demand a new idea seeped into her mind. It brought with it hope.
Could there be a connection to perfect peace? The whole verse reads, “Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.” Slowly the cap of the bottle was turned letting the pressure out as she breathed a hopeful whisper, “Storytelling!” That was it! Stories are a path to peace, an irresistible way that a mind is channeled into trusting the teller.
She began to let her imagination run. The stories would bring the peace the house needed. Could it be that this is the reason that the bible is full of stories instead of pragmatic points and formulas? Yes! God wants us to trust Him. He knows that if we trust him then we will have perfect peace. But how can he create that trust? By hearing his stories we believe if it happened before it can happen again. We have perfect peace when our mind is stayed on God. We stay our mind on him by replaying the ancient stories handed down for generations.
We connect to truth, faith, trust and peace with the all familiar line, “Once upon a time in a land far far away…”
Wednesday, September 12
Change is Good
Three changes in my life have taken place in the last couple months. It’s all good…
1. Finished nursing my boy. He is one now. Walking. Eats real food real good. This is great because I have so much more time on my hands.
1. Finished nursing my boy. He is one now. Walking. Eats real food real good. This is great because I have so much more time on my hands.
2. Started back at the gym. Haven’t darkened those doors since… well, the important thing is that I am going and I like it.
3. Journaling my children’s journey. I write down what I learn from them, life lessons they are learning and interesting anecdotes about them that I think they will appreciate reading in the future.
For all you bottom line folk out there: I feel like these are all positive changes for my well being and the way that I relate to those around me.
Saturday, September 8
Friday, September 7
Handfuls
In this year: We celebrated one year as Christ Nation Church, the orphanage celebrated one year of caring for children, we are coming up on one year in our beautiful apartment, and my youngest just turned one year old.
In this year: We joyously celebrate 11 years of marriage, look back over 9 years of parenting, mark 6 years as career missionaries, complete 4 years of home schooling, and rejoice that both DaRonn and I have been saved for the majority of our years alive.
I sincerely hope that all my life is marked by a continual flow of newness and consistency. A handful of new things next to a handful of consistency is a fulfilling sight.
In this year: We joyously celebrate 11 years of marriage, look back over 9 years of parenting, mark 6 years as career missionaries, complete 4 years of home schooling, and rejoice that both DaRonn and I have been saved for the majority of our years alive.
I sincerely hope that all my life is marked by a continual flow of newness and consistency. A handful of new things next to a handful of consistency is a fulfilling sight.
Tuesday, September 4
Belly Button Gazers
Getting the kids ready for bed last night DaRonn says, “What would it be like if the world did not rotate around Gabrielle?” A hypothetical question not necessarily directed at our six year old. Nevertheless she did not miss a beat and explained, “It would be like everything would be stuck in their place and not moving; like freezed.”
How often do we have the attitude of my precious little girl? We think that if it were not for us then the world would go into a catatonic state of shock. It would be ‘freezed’ if it were not for us, and our brilliance, and our work, and our ideas, and our whatever.
I believe that everyone is special and important. I believe that everybody should feel free to express themselves in all their creativity as they love their Maker. I also believe that we need to look at the way we are viewing ourselves.
Eastman Curtis calls selfish people “Belly Button Gazers”. They incline their heads at such and angle that the singular view they have is that of their own belly button. What a sad song these people drone out, either in self-pity or in puffed up pride.
Let’s lift up our heads and look around today. You might just be the answer that God has provided to ease someone else’s misery. (But don’t let that go to you head now; smile!)
How often do we have the attitude of my precious little girl? We think that if it were not for us then the world would go into a catatonic state of shock. It would be ‘freezed’ if it were not for us, and our brilliance, and our work, and our ideas, and our whatever.
I believe that everyone is special and important. I believe that everybody should feel free to express themselves in all their creativity as they love their Maker. I also believe that we need to look at the way we are viewing ourselves.
Eastman Curtis calls selfish people “Belly Button Gazers”. They incline their heads at such and angle that the singular view they have is that of their own belly button. What a sad song these people drone out, either in self-pity or in puffed up pride.
Let’s lift up our heads and look around today. You might just be the answer that God has provided to ease someone else’s misery. (But don’t let that go to you head now; smile!)
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