Clouds, Cochabamba?, Customs and Computer Connections

Brilliance lit the Andes as we made our descent into Chile. The billowy cloud cover glowed with scarlet, fuchsia, pinks and oranges. Every so often I would get a peek of the snowy peaks upon which the fluff swirled. The exotic pastel explosion was the visual counterpart for what was happening inside the cabin. I clutched my baby a bit tighter as the crackly voice on the PA system announced that in the next few moments we would be experiencing mild to extreme turbulence but that it was nothing with which to concern ourselves. The ride had already been choppy, and we felt it more because we were in one of the last rows of seats. The plane did indeed start to bounce around. I tried to keep Tyler’s sleeping head from bumping up against the window that had graciously provided such a spectacular view. Cups started to roll around. I was airborne from my seat a couple of times. Then two contrasting sounds reached my ears. The first was the canned elevator music that was being piped in overhead from the speckled speaker. The second came from behind me in the galley to which the flight attendants had scrambled to find a seat belt. The sound was that of gasps and then a very definite scream followed by another one. It is not very comforting when you hear the flight attendants screaming from fright! I looked across the isle where two large men were sitting. One had braced himself against the wall the other was clenching the arm rests. My heart skipped a beat as I heard other small children yell for their mamas.

But then the setting sun playing on top of the torment caught my eye and I turn to the sky below. Magnificent! My heart welled with gratefulness. I was grateful that I knew that we were going to be just fine. I was grateful that I understood the power of a person who prays. I was grateful that God had allowed my baby to behave so well the entire 12 hours trip that was only minutes from being complete. I was thankful that he was now resting peacefully in my arms. I was thankful for a group of people praying for us. I was thankful that I was even able to be going to minister the people of Chile. I was thankful for the fabulous distraction that God orchestrated for me on His high places that allowed me to smile and breathe calmly.

We broke through the clouds and my mind filled with angst. But it was not due to the shaking. Rather as I looked down into the city I saw the evening lights of the homes and neighbor hoods that filled the basin; and I saw that the city was surrounded by mountains. My mind latched on to one thought, “This looks like Cochababma! You are landing in the wrong city! They have taken you back home!” The panic did not last long; though I had to convince myself that this was Santiago, Chile.

That was yesterday. I have been here for two days now with my 6 month old. It has already been quite the adventure. I have had so very many opportunities to take a step back and just look at my life and wonder how God can be so good to me. Amidst all the challenges (little and big) He has been faithful. I have found myself praying often: ok God, I am at the end of myself, please work this out. Then moments later the answer presents itself. What a good God!

One fun thing happened as I was coming through customs into Chile. The agent stopped me and said she needed to look in my bag. My mind immediately went to the suitcase full of books and materials that I had brought for the conference. She then asked, “What is the purpose of all these books that you have brought.” I rehearsed in my mind the sing-song answer that we give each time, “They are for my own personal use,” But as I braced myself and began my speech I looked and saw that it was the larger bag that they wanted to look through. It was the bag with my clothes and Tyler’s stuff in it! I smiled and confidently repeated my line. At the base of the bag I had placed 6 books: my bibles, my notebooks and my reading books. She asked what I was and I explained that I was a missionary. She zipped up the bag and then offered to help me put Tyler’s jacket on because it was cold. How’s that for a fun little trick! I think God did that just to show me that He has a sense of humor and that things are under His control.

I had been feeling out of sorts because the hotel people couldn’t figure out how to make my in-room internet work. The gal who met me here from the States to minister with me at the churches, bible schools and conferences, is one of the pluckiest people I know and has a great testimony to boot. She has been great fun, so I hadn’t got too out of joint about not being online. But then this evening my good husband called and walked me through how to get it configured. And now I am online! Yeah! We tried out our web cams and I saw his handsome face as we talked for a bit. I will be able to see my kiddos tomorrow too. That will be fun.

This is a new aspect of ministry for me. I will write more later about the significance of it and maybe some of how I am feeling. Right now I am going to crawl into bed. I was up super early this morning pounding the pavement looking for drinking water so I am ready to crash.

My Man

I love my husband! He treats me so good. We have been married more than 10 years now and it just keeps on getting better.

This blog is a little commercial for his personal blog that he just set up last night. It is through Blogger so anyone can leave a comment. Just click on the word comments and then choose other (if you are not a Blogger blogger). Check it out. I, for one, think he posted a great first entry. Click the link below to go see it.

http://daronnwashington.blogspot.com/

Funny Fruit - Chirimoya

Chirimoya [chee - dee - moy’ - ah]

It has other names depending on what part of the world you are in: Atemoya, Cherimola, Cherimoya, Custard Apple, Custard Fruit, Sitaphal

Taste: For those that enjoy the fruit they would describe it as sweet, yet mellow with a soft ripe pear feeling, but not so grainy. For those that don’t enjoy it they have described it as mushy with the strong taste of dish detergent or soap bubbles.

Look, size and feel: One of those especially ergonomic fruits it ranges in size from that of a soft ball to four times that size. It is heavy and dense. The bitter green skin bruises and tears easily. The actual fruit that you eat is white and a bit juicy with a few large black seeds throughout.

Just the gals in our house consider it a treat. The guys only like it as a flavor of ice-cream. Even though I just finished eating the one you see in the picture with my daughters, my mouth is watering just typing about this treat. We have a chirimoya tree here at our house, though this one I bought in the market.

Reading Regimen

In the book “Prophetic Untimeliness” (page 104) Os Guinness outlines a reading regimen that C.S. Lewis maintained. Lewis said, “It is a good rule, after reading a new book, never allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.” Guinness goes on to note, “In tackling a major or minor biography every two or three books I read, I have found my awareness of history steadily expanding along with my appreciation of the colorful throng of men and women who make the human story so fascinating.”

January the biography that I read was about Adoniram Judson. February I finished reading a biography about Lydia (Christensen) Prince. Being one to have at least three books going at a time I have also been plugging through Yancy’s “Rumors of another World” and at an even slower pace Galli’s “Jesus Mean and Wild”.

Wanting something light and carefree I began a Louisa May Alcott book that seems as though it will be delightful reading: “Under the Lilacs”.

But I still have this itch that has not yet been satisfied and I think I am going place in the peripheral my old and new books to read yet another biography. What better way to follow up reading about the wife than reading about the husband? Re-reading the biography about Derek Prince sounds so inviting to me just now.

The Finite Points of Life

While cleaning up around the house with the family I stuck my finger in a live current. Upon hearing my yelp my good husband inquired, “What happened? Are you ok?” A bit disgusted with myself I responded, “Yeah, I just stuck my finger here and got a shock.” My five year old asked, “Did you get burned?” “Yes, I did,” I said. Moved to sympathy she cooed, “Ooh! Ow!” as she examined my finger. Glancing over and surveying the situation big sister purses her lips and frowns at the little one then curtly replies, “Yeah, but at least she is still alive.”

My pinky is still tingling, making it hard to type my a’s. But, as the sage said, at least I am still alive.

“Washingtonese”

In his book "Execution: the Discipline of Getting Things Done" Larry Bossidy has this to say about culture:

"Culture is the sum of shared values, beliefs and behaviors. It may come from training, experiences, what we have heard, and our perceptions."

Here is some Washington family culture. I call it “Washingtonese”. Simple phrases that we use around the house that distinguish us from all the rest of the cultures in the world.

1. “Steering to the moon” (One of my kids heard “staring out in space” and attempted using it. The context was correct, the syntax a bit misconstrued.)

2. “Hode Awn” (This is the phonetic spelling for the Ebonics phrase “Hold On”)

3. “Peanut” (This is Papa’s pet name for his kiddos. Variations exist i.e. Peanut-man, Peanut-butter, Peanut-head, and Peanut-soup)

4. “Hey!” (To be exclaimed after your plate of food is sneakily swiped by Papa)

5. Reprimands:
“Shut your mouth and eat” (Kind of an oxymoron, don’t you think?)
“When the lights go off the sound goes off too”

6. “Cellaphone” (Gabrielle’s term for Cell Phone)

7. “Another day in Bolivia” (You kind of have to see this one to understand it. Those that have visited us will get it.)

What is some family culture you cultivate in your “casa”?