Not the Christmas I had Planned!

Well, to be clear, I did not really plan anything. I had in my mind that we could/ should get together with the believers in our town, especially since we do not have team mates. Then at my conference in November, I was reminded that the believers in our area are our team mates, more than that, our family. I was reminded to see them that way. So in the few days following our return from the capital, Rich went to talk with one of our brothers about gathering everyone for a celebration, and together they went to the village to invite other brothers and sisters.

Rich had it in his mind for us to also give some sort of gift to our close friends and neighbors. However trying to home school and manage a household without our regular house helper made it too stressful to think ahead. (One of the side effects I have had since all the cancer treatment is a lower threshold for stress and in turn decision making.) So I asked Rich to do a lot of that thinking ahead on his own, and I promised to be all in once the day came.

Wednesday afternoon, my mind free of home school and planning for guests, Rich and I were able to talk about gifts for close friends and neighbors. Some people we knew were giving buckets of useful items and sharing the Christmas story. Some were giving plates of cookies. Some were giving bags of treats with scripture references on them. We decided to go with the bucket of useful items, which Rich went out immediately to buy, and a copy of Mark. After dinner, as a family we worked together to fill the buckets to deliver the next morning.

On Christmas Eve, we began delivering the buckets. We made sure they knew we were including Mark because it tells about Jesus, whose birth we were celebrating. We prayed with each family we visited. One visit was particularly interesting as it involved a guest at the house we went to visit. The guest wanted to emphasize that the two religions come from the same father, Abraham, and how at peace they are, especially this year when both the birthday of the Prophet and the birth of Jesus were celebrated the same day. If it had been just my friend and her husband, we might have been able to go deeper in the conversation to clear up some misconceptions, but that day was not the time and place with a guest whose heart was not yet ready. Giving those buckets was a great idea!

We had lunch and a laid back afternoon. We ate dinner and watched Polar Express before putting the kids to bed.

Christmas morning, we opened our stockings and a few small presents. We had breakfast. We put dinner in the crock pot. We got dressed in our finest outfits, especially the children in their new clothes. We went to visit Jennifer, since I knew she would not be able to get out to see the children. She was so happy to see them but sad she could not come with us to the gathering. As we were leaving Jennifer's, we remembered something we had meant to bring with us, so we headed home.

Crash! Boom!
Turning ever so carefully off of the street, a motorcycle came up on our left side while we were turning left. He clipped the front driver's side corner and flew into the air. I was just sure he was going to be laid out on the ground, likely even dead, but he got up and walked from the motorcycle. Despite no helmet, there was no blood from his head. He had some blood from scrapes on his arms, but nothing like we feared. Police  driving by asked a few questions. Everyone testified the same thing, that the young man was the one at fault. An ambulance came to take the young man to the hospital. Police came to take statements and measure out the distances involved. We had to go to the police station to pick up paperwork. This was not what I had planned.

We were all a little shaken after that. We left the kids at Jennifer's house while we went to the police station. When finished there, we took the rice and onions that we planned to take for the gathering over to the brother for him to serve. We however begged forgiveness because we all were in need of rest.

We came home and pieced some things together for lunch. We rested and watched more Christmas movies. It was restful, but it was not what I had planned.
That afternoon was when Jamie came over and told me she had read Mark and watched the movie about Jesus. That also was not what I had planned.

Because I had planned for us to be out all day on Christmas, we planned that the next day would be a totally inside day, so that the kids could enjoy their new presents. Other than a short visit from someone who came to visit me, it was just us inside all day. I essentially stayed in my pajamas all day! We did that again, more or less on Sunday.

Monday morning, Rich went to the police station to pick up his paperwork. He was later than we had planned on him going, but because he was late, he was able to see the young man. The young man from the accident had a bandaged arm but was mostly well. The fact that he was able to walk away was a miracle. The small amount of cuts and scrapes was even more so. Thank you Lord, for Rich being able to see that young man this morning.

Grateful for how the Father worked miracles and worked in hearts over the last two weeks, in ways we had not planned.

Jamie's Story Continues

In "No Need for Embarassment," readers were introduced to Jamie, Jennifer's sister-in-law. Jamie had expressed a willingness to study the Word and yet schedules never seemed to coincide. Then I was out of town for a few weeks. Since returning, we were busy catching up on things not done while I was out of town and preparing for the celebration of the birth of our Lord. The Father has a way of orchestrating events, even though not exactly as we would plan.

Since Jennifer's husband died, I have had more opportunity to spend time with Jamie. Jennifer is not from our target people group and language but from a very close language. Jamie is actually from our target people, the language we thought we had learned. Since Jamie has been over more, I have found out how much of my language is actually from the close language, not the one I thought I had learned. I knew I needed to improve my language, but I did not realize how much.

So Jamie has been coming, and I have purposed to pray with her every visit, with a few exceptions. Then we decided to bless some of our neighbors, friends, and workers with buckets of rice, onions, lemons, soap, and a copy of Mark. We gave one of the buckets to Jamie on Christmas Eve.

On Christmas Day, Jamie came to check on us, after we had been involved in an accident. She and I talked about the accident and a few other cultural things. Then she shared something precious with me. She had taken the bucket home and showed it to her family. She had read Mark some that afternoon. Then a movie of the life of Jesus was on television. It showed the part she had just read. She told her husband that she had just read it, and they sat down with their children to watch the rest of the movie. She saw where He died on the cross and then came back to life again. We talked a little about how He was not like other people because He was without sin.

Lift up Jamie and her family as they continue seeking the Truth.

Jennifer is a Widow.

Jennifer's tale has been up and down. She struggled in her marriage, and we discussed that he could not really love her without being in The Way.  She was drawn to real faith as she saw Rich caring for me, being the husband the Word commands him to be. Her in-laws that had been harsh with her improved as we prayed for them to be kind. She committed to The Way and grew in her faith. One day things went very wrong with her husband, who is from yet another people group. It was her in-laws that stepped in to redeem the situation and defend Jennifer. Things seemed to improve with her husband as well.

Three weeks after the family intervention, Jennifer probably got malaria, so sick she had to be hospitalized. When she got released from the hospital, her husband was in the hospital with complications of diabetes and blood pressure. The day before he was released from the hospital, our family returned from the capital. I went to visit them on the day he was released, which was also the anniversary of my surgery. I prayed with them and gave personal testimony of my not needing to fear death last year.

Her husband was released, though he was in a lot of pain. Three and a half days later, he died at home. Jennifer became a widow.

I did not find out until late the next day, and I went to visit her almost immediately. Rich and I intended on going to the funeral the next morning, but we were unable to do so when Rich's back went out. I went that afternoon instead, once Rich was well enough to be left alone and kids were playing. Jennifer begged me to bring the kids. The next morning I took the kids to visit her. They hugged her and prayed for her, and she sang songs with them that she has sung around the house. I went back that afternoon to take her something she had requested. I went back this morning with Rich and the kids.

Jennifer's in-laws commented on how good we are to keep coming. I said it is because she has been so good to us. We are family and take care of one another. I come to visit her and she has arranged for some one to come help me. (As a side note, though we are very close to Jennifer, she is not from our target audience, but the closest possible. Her replacement actually is from our target people.)

Maybe those who once were hostile to The Way will not be so hardened to it now. Maybe we can break the stereotype they have of white people and, more importantly, of those of The Way. Maybe this opens the door for those of another people group to come to faith. Maybe. All for His glory.
With all the maybes, Jennifer is still a widow.

Pardon Me! Meet Sophie

Some teenage girls were watching Mariama sweep the front this morning and acted as if they were going to tease her. I asked them to move along to school so that she could finish sweeping. They looked like the girls who came in our house one day without being invited, but I did not want to assume that.

With trying to do school and Rich studying and going out, I kept the front gate locked, so we would not be disturbed. It also worked out since our house helper is still out, and her sister who came in for her does not know who to interrupt us for and who not.  I still feel weird locking the the gate, but I am following our neighbors' example. Rich came back from his visiting, but he forgot to lock the gate.

I came around the corner to find a strange teenage girl in our home. I asked her why she had come in, and I stepped out into the courtyard with her. She said she knocked and knocked but no one answered. I told her she should have waited for an answer. I asked her why she came, when she was obviously on her way home from school for lunch. She said she wanted to be our friend and asked my forgiveness for coming in the house uninvited. I confessed to her that I have a hard time believing her. She is too old to be friends with my children and too young to want to be my friend. I told her that most her age just come here to see the white person and tire us out. I hoped she was telling the truth, but I was having a hard time trusting her. She said she passed by yesterday and wanted to talk with us, unfortunately she thought we spoke French. She does not speak English nor our current local language.

So we communicated in the major trade language.  I asked her name and where she lives. I asked her what grade she is in, which is roughly equivalent to our tenth grade. I asked her how school was going, and she said it was painful. She recently moved here from a town two hours west of us.  She started to leave, but I asked her if I could pray with her before she left. I prayed that God who knows our hearts would reveal what is true and help her in her school work.

I don't know that I will ever see Sophie again. I do not know her heart's intent, but I know there are no accidents. She did not accidentally walk in our home. Pray that God will bless Sophie in her school work and to draw her unto Himself.

Vive le Difference!

Opposites attract!  When you put batteries in a flashlight, the opposite ends of the batteries must touch in order for them to work. Looking at Rich and me this week has been like looking at two batteries.  Thinking back to when we started getting to know one another, I told our mutual friends it would never work because we were too different.

In contemplating our language learning styles this week, I remembered how Rich would embody the personality of our first people group overseas, while I would get the sentences structured more cleanly. He is more street sense where I am book sense. I love grammar, but he can play the part. Together we can really get the point across.

I want to have the right answers, where as he loves to play devil's advocate. In fact, it is that devil's advocate that helped me know he was the man for me. He was the first man I ever dated that actually tried to engage my mind, which made for interesting road trips, and wanted me to really be able to articulate what I believe.

We have lots of differences. He was country, and I was city. He is watching wrestling, and I am visiting museums.  He was "Rocky Horror Picture Show", and I was "Gone with the Wind."  He is working in the theater, and I am attending the theatre. He reads fiction, where I prefer reading self-improvement books. I can be very task oriented, but he is very people focused. He is laid back and relaxed, and I have been known to want to get the most out of every possible moment. These differences give spice and variety to our lives. It would be so boring if we were the same.

They also make us better as individuals and a couple. I need him to get me to relax, and he sometimes needs me to help him get going. On vacations, he makes sure we have down time and enjoy the moment, while I enjoy planning fun and educational things to do. I need him, and he needs me.

I find it interesting that God intended it to be that way. God created man in His image and said it was very good. It was not good for man to be alone, so God made a helpmate for him.  The helpmate was also made in the image of God but was created different from the man, physically and otherwise. It was their physical differences that would enable procreation and the continuation of the species. Ephesians commands the wife to respect her husband and the husband to love the wife. It commands those things because that is what the other needs. Men want to be loved, but they need to be respected. Women want to be respected too, but they need to feel loved. God created them male and female.

Enjoy the differences!
Vive la difference!

Miscommunications

This week of learning about how we learn language has been revelatory! I have seen so many things afresh and anew. It has been invaluable. While much has been encouraging, there have been some hard revelations as well.

As one might expect, we had to cover from whence the languages came, in Genesis 10. After the flood, Noah and his children were commanded to go and fill the whole earth. While they might have started going out, they came to a point that they settled so that they could build a tower to show their own greatness, not the greatness of God. God, seeing that nothing would be impossible for them to do if they succeeded in this project confused their languages such that the people did spread over the earth into like languages.

While the teacher of this course may have meant to say something else, he said, "God caused it that the people could not communicate."  That screamed loudly at me.  Why do I think I am going to get to a point in other language learning that I will not ever have miscommunications? I have miscommunications in English, my heart language, so why wouldn't I in this one too. For that matter, I have miscommunications in my Louisiana dialect, even closer to my heart. While at first it might seem discouraging to think about in a new language, it is actually comforting when those mistakes happen. It is part of being human, which leads me to the next lesson.

Amidst all of this language learning, I have also had the pleasure to talk to others, from other companies and even other countries, about how their teams work. It turns out that team dynamics are one of the greatest, if not the greatest challenge, that coworkers, including myself, experience.  Maybe it is because we expect to be able to communicate with those from our same country who have the same purpose for being overseas, so we are caught off guard by it.  Maybe we expect that we will be "one in the bond of love" and sing "Kumbayah" every day. But the enemy is crafty and targets us where we do not expect it.

John 15
v. 12. This is my commandment, that you love one another, just as I have loved you.
v. 13. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends.
v. 14. You are my friends, IF you do what I command you.
.....
v. 17. This I command you, that you love one another.

Wow! Jesus commands us to love one another and says we are His friends IF we do what He commands. Ouch! When I am unloving toward my brothers and sisters in the faith, I am not being a friend to Jesus. (A whole other post will have to be dedicated to what it means to love, but I will sum up that it does not include advocating people do whatever they want which leads to self-destruction.)

Notice this though, Jesus repeats himself. Did He forget that he already said that? No, He has at least two purposes. One purpose is to really drive home the importance of this command. The second greatest command is "Love your neighbor as yourself." If we cannot love those of the family of faith, how are we going to love the world?Second purpose is to elude to the difficulty with which the commandment will be followed. It is not for fun that God repeatedly told Joshua to not be afraid but be courageous, rather Joshua needed to hear those words before he went into difficulty.  It is no coincidence that the Bible says some version of "Do not be afraid" 365 times. We need to be reminded daily to not be afraid. We need to be told multiple times to love one another because it is not going to be easy and automatic, but it is how the world will know that we are His disciples.

Brethren, let us love as the Lord commands us! Let us be quick to listen and slow to speak. Let us be quick to forgive when miscommunications arise in whatever language. Let us love, laying our lives down for one another.

The Cleft of the Rock

Yesterday's training revealed to me something so precious about this last year.  We were learning about the glory of God and how we were created in His image to reflect that glory.

In talking about glory, we talked about Moses on Mt. Sinai. Moses boldly requested to see the glory of God. The face of God's glory was too great for any man to see and live. God told Moses to go to the top of the rock. God would hide Moses in the cleft of the rock and cover him with His hand. Then Moses would see the back of His glory. Moses did not possess much glory in himself but experienced glory unlike any other, such that he had to wear a veil because his face radiated with the reflection of the glory of God.

Looking back on the last year, I feel like cancer was my cleft, a hard and rocky, uncomfortable place. It revealed again that I am a sinner, indeed, saved by grace.  However, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was covered by the hand of God. I felt His presence and surely experienced His goodness.  I experienced His glory in a way I never would have without that hard and rocky place. If I radiate, it is because I am reflecting His glory.

In addition to His glory, we experienced additional goodness as those around us were the hands and feet of Jesus to us. As Paul said to the Galatians, "For I testify to you that, if possible, you would have gouged out your eyes and given them to me." (4:15). That may be slightly exaggerated, but we certainly felt a great level of care and concern. We are grateful for the goodness of God that we experienced this year. I am grateful to have experienced God's glory in a way I never would have without cancer.

"Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where your streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
And blessed be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise,
And when the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name."

Stereotypes

Be careful of the generalizations, i.e. stereotypes, you make.

I have been reading the book of Acts this week, preceded by the four books about the life of Jesus. It struck me how different things might have been if everyone had stuck by their stereotypes.

Jesus tried to teach the Sadducees and Pharisees a great many things, but most remained in opposition to him. However, Nicodemus came in the night to learn and try to sort this New Way out for himself. In Acts, those same religious leaders were going to persecute the followers of Jesus. Gamaliel spoke words of wisdom into the situation and calmed them. He might not have been for them, but he was certainly not  picking up stones either. Maybe not all the Sadducees and Pharisees were a "brood of vipers."

On the reverse side, I see Judas and the other disciples. Most certainly, all the disciples seemed to have had their moments of weakness, whether it being denial or just running away from a situation. Judas, though, gets the prize for being the biggest traitor. He sits next to Jesus for the Last Supper, but then betrays Jesus for a few pieces of silver, with a kiss no less. What would happen if we grouped all the disciples together?

When we stereotype people, painting with broad brush strokes, people are liable to get hurt. Some might wonder how I can even begin to address stereotypes. Surely I don't know anything about being a victim of stereotyping. But, I do.

I experience it, in big and small ways, on an almost daily basis where we live. Maybe it is the kids playing in the street or a neighbor. Maybe someone wants me to pay more than I should at the market because of skin color. Maybe they think that my life is sunshine and roses, no work and living it up. Maybe they assume they can skip greeting and ask for money. But maybe I just want a friend, someone to say a kind word, to ask how I am really doing and mean it. Maybe I could use help at the market.  Maybe I just want to be treated kindly. I don't always like the box I am in.

Jesus had problems too because of stereotyping. The Israelites had been waiting hundreds of years for the Messiah.  Then Jesus came. Being the only one, there was not really a mold to break, but Jesus broke the mold anyway. They expected one thing of the Messiah, what he would look like and do, but He was not that way. Because of the stereotype, many did not see Him for who He was.

Whom could you befriend that you are missing because of a stereotype you hold? Who am I not blessing and in turn not being blessed by because of the stereotypes I have held? What neighbor sits in their home alone because everyone else is afraid to reach out?

Kady is an Enigma!

I met Kady just a couple of weeks ago, but she has baffled me twice already.

She called me a couple of weeks ago on a Thursday evening. She did not call to ask for anything. She just wanted to be sure we were meeting on Sunday to study. Now, I don't want it to sound bad on others around us, but rarely do we get calls from others just to chat or check on us. Generally they need something. It costs money to call, extra money they generally do not have, so they do not call much, in my experience, unless they have a need.  An exception to the rule was when we came back this time and our former language teacher called to welcome me back and plan to visit me in person, but she has known us for years.  Not only was Kady not calling to ask for money, she actually was asking about studying the Word, the reason why we are here. Wow!

Then when she did come on Sunday, she brought me cucumbers that her husband had grown and some bananas that she bought at the market. Now it is not completely unusual for gifts of produce that they have grown to be given, though one does keep in mind that it could have been sold to provide for their family. However, a purchased gift is more rare, as I have experienced. Generally we are seen as the ones with money, so we do not need to be given so much. Kady would not even let me share the bananas with her daughter, who shares my name. What a blessing Kady poured out on me!

As I type this, I am reminded of times that we have gone to the village to visit, maybe even spend the day, and took rice and other items for cooking out with us. Even then they would cook it to share with us, or something like bananas would be portioned out among us, the guests, and those with whom we went to visit. Kady however would not let me share with her and her daughter.

Kady is an enigma to me!

Interdependence vs. Independence

Our passport culture has become too independent! Don't get me wrong. I love being an American! I am grateful for those who have served our country to make and keep us free! In our current day, however, interdependence is sacrificed for independence.

Some have criticized the "It takes a village to raise a child." This past year we needed our "village" to help us get through cancer treatments. People though tend to be all about me and mine. They don't want to worry about you and yours, and they sure do not want you correcting them on anything.

The culture we live in is not that way. We are glad to have our kids play with neighborhood kids and give water to those with whom they play. Twice today though some older kids have stopped at our house, one group even walked up in our house, asking for water. The ones who came up in the house were escorted outside and reprimanded by our house helper. The other group did not stop at any other house but chose ours. Why? Because our white kids were outside and they think we do not know the culture. I went outside to get onto Mariama for refusing water until I saw the situation. So I instead corrected the girls. I asked why they did not stop at any of the other houses. I told them it was not good upbringing and they would not tire their mother out in that way.  The women passing by on the street agreed with me and asked me to be patient. I would have felt funny going out there and correcting them, if it had not been for my house helper doing the same thing this morning. Just as thankful that others would correct my children if they were doing wrong or dangerous, like those that told William and Mariama to get away from the well when we first moved here.

We lose something vital in our very independent culture.

The interdependence is also evident in family situations. Jennifer's husband has fluctuated in his attitude toward her in the past. A couple of weeks ago, over a small thing, he made a spectacle of her, in the middle of the street.  He told her to go back to her mother's home. When she tried to leave later that day, he and his family begged her to stay. The story did not end there.

Her husband's eldest brother lives in the capital. As the patriarch, it was his responsibility to see that the situation was addressed. He arrived this past weekend. They had a sit down of the family with Jennifer. They told him what he did was unnecessary and is not to be repeated. If it were to repeat, his family will pack her up and take her to her mother's home, which would include his son leaving as well. The in-laws, who have not always been overly kind to Jennifer, also said that they would not look for another wife for him and that he should be grateful for all that she has done for him. When Jennifer and I had discussed the situation, she did not want to tell her brothers knowing that they would go after him, and then she would have to visit her brother in jail. Instead, she let his family work it out.

 In our host culture, interdependence is much more important than independence. Sure there are downfalls, like when the family arranges a marriage to get a young man to return to his family's faith.  On the other hand, we lose something when we cut ourselves off from our community and fail to hold one another accountable. For all the stress that families can bring, maybe a little more family and community involvement would do us good.

Meet Kady!

aka What does Sabbath rest mean?

Two weeks ago, Jennifer had expressed an interest in getting together to study the Word. She wanted to come over on a day she did not have many responsibilities at home so that she would not be rushed. I had agreed and prepared the day before and day of for her arrival. Though it has traditionally been my rest day, I am learning what that means. Unfortunately, she never showed. I found out the following day that she had a funeral near her mother's house.

She and I planned again to meet soon and hopefully to even get others to gather with us. Maybe we would go to the home of a Brother instead of meeting at my house. She also wanted to invite her best friend, Kady, who had been studying with our other teammate and Kady's husband, who also had a copy of the Word. Jennifer and I prayed before going to the market, that the Lord would be with us that day.

At the market, we met up with Kady at the crazy heart of the market. She agreed that she wanted to begin studying again as well. Jennifer invited her to come over on the following rest day. The rest day came and was so rainy. I did not expect anyone to show up, but Kady did. I was not dressed for company, nor was I completely sure what we were going to study. I changed clothes and called to see if Jennifer was on her way. While Kady and I waited on Jennifer, I read a little of the Word with her. Then I asked what she had studied before with our teammate.

In the course of Kady's answer, she called Jesus a prophet. This told me a lot about where she is in her journey. I felt lead to share Creation to Christ with her. After this, Jennifer arrived.

We did the customary greetings and talked about future meetings together and going to the village. Kady's daughter, at two years old, was dressed nicer than the other three of us.  Kady invited us over to her house to know where she lives and to meet her husband, so that he would know that someone is here with whom to study.  Jennifer missed out on the study of the Word. She asked for us to study a bit more before going. I shared a story I had read that morning. We prayed and sang a couple of songs together. Then we left.

I drove us. I had a feeling the walk was going to be long, but my legs had been tired the last couple of days. I was glad I did because it was across town. We parked and went in to greet her husband. We chatted for a bit and then talked about meeting together to study soon. Jennifer needed to get home to cook dinner, so she and I left.

In thinking about when our family would have a rest day, we also needed to consider what days were going to be best for ministry with our local Family members. With no teammates to tag out on rest days, we needed to be available on the best day for ministry. As I have been reading the Gospels lately, I find a constant emphasis on pulling away to pray but also on not being legalistic about the Sabbath. Jesus would teach and do miracles, drawing to the Father, on the Sabbath. What does that mean for us to have rest and yet not be legalistic about it? I am still figuring that out, but I am trying to leave my plans open for the Father to lead.

The day after Kady came to my house, I went to the market for just a few things. As I walked down the road, Kady, dressed lovely and wearing a stud nose ring, saw me and came running over. She asked if we were going to study again the next Sabbath. I told her we would.

Lift up Kady and her husband as they continue seeking. Lift up the local Family members to meet together soon and be impressed to continue. Lift us up as we discover what Sabbath rest means for us.

No Need for Embarassment!

After years of hearing stories, my friend Jennifer was drawn closer to the Truth as she saw love lived out in our marriage. She was seeking but was just not sure, not ready to commit. We returned to the states after being told I might have cancer, and she was left to study with another.  She was still unsure and scared.  Then one day, she had a dream.

She saw a vision of a person in gleaming white clothes. The vision told her that I would be healed and that her sins were forgiven. The vision appeared and spoke the same words three times. After she woke up, she went to the other with whom she was studying. This other lady was able to explain the dream, after which Jennifer was ready to commit.

Jennifer afterwards walked in confidence in my healing and her forgiveness, even to the point of going to share in villages and sharing with her best friend, as well as telling her husband and mother about her choice. Others though doubted. Jennifer's sister-in-law, who has worked for Americans before and seen them leave and never return, told Jennifer that we would not be returning.

So after I had been told that I was cancer free and recovered from my last surgery, I called Jennifer to tell her when we were coming back to our home here. She was so happy. She went to tell her mother. Her sister-in-law nearby heard and was embarrassed. We returned and Jennifer was going to cook for us. As she went to the market, she met up with some of her family. She told them she was going to buy to cook for us. Once again, her sister-in-law, Jamie, was embarrassed.

The day after Jennifer told me about Jamie's embarrassment, I was praying and felt strongly the need to encourage Jennifer. After all, Jamie did not have to feel ashamed because she was wrong. This was an opportunity for Jennifer to share about her dream that I would be healed and would return and the forgiveness of sin she had experienced. It was a door to share that what the Lord promises, He will do. As I shared this encouragement with Jennifer, she shared that she had felt the same impression and was planning to see Jamie that day to tell her she did not need to be embarrassed and invite her to study with her. We rejoiced together that the Lord had spoken to both of us and thanked Him for how He was going to work.

The next day Jennifer shared with me how she had gone to share with Jamie. That weekend was a holiday, but she agreed to begin studying after the holiday was passed. Since that time, Jennifer has been sick or there have been funerals near her family, such that we have been unable to meet to study. Lift up Jennifer's sister-in-law, Jamie, to continue seeking the truth and a time to be found to study together.

He Can't Love Her!

A phrase I have had to remember a lot lately is, "Lost people are going to act lost." It helps to give grace to the unsaved, because you stop expecting them to do right because they do not know what that is and they do not have the Holy Spirit to guide them.

Three days ago, Jennifer, who I have much to update on, and I went to the market. On the way home, we were reviewing the commands to the husband and wife from Ephesians 5.  We discussed the fact that there is no "if he/she, then" do what is commanded.

The next day on her way to work, Jennifer's husband walked with her most of the way to work. Then in the road, he made a spectacle and told her to get out of the house and go back to her mother. When I saw her, she was terribly upset. We prayed. I shared scripture. She told me she was going to leave work early to go pack her stuff. I tried to encourage her to let the Holy Spirit guide her in speaking or keeping silent and in what to do. I told her to let me know if/when she needed help.  I waited for her to show up but hoped he would have changed his mind.

When he saw her packing, he asked why. She told him she was doing what he told her. He ran to his family member confessing what had happened. They came and pleaded with her to stay. She agreed.

Yesterday as she told me what had transpired, that phrase about lost acting lost came to my mind. Then I was reminded. She has submitted her life to Christ and has the Holy Spirit.  He does not. He cannot love her like Ephesians 5 commands because he is not a believer. That is why a verse precedes the command to husband and wife, that they must be mutually submitted to the Lord first.

I, in my flesh, struggle at times to submit to my husband, not because of my husband, but because of my own human nature. How much more does Jennifer struggle when her husband is not a believer. He cannot love her the way the Lord commands and she longs to be loved.

Feeling like a Cinema

If you don't want them to stare, don't give them anything at which to stare. 

This is a lesson I have had to be reminded of lately.  Mariama has such a natural flair for life.  The whole world is her stage, so as a general rule, being stared at does not bother her. However, personally, though pretty outgoing, I would prefer not to be in the limelight. Living here pushes that preference to the side. 

Here, we stick out. We cannot help it, we just do. We try to dress to blend in.  We speak their language, rather than expecting them to speak ours.  Contrary to those who have called me Senegalese lately, I am not. I am very white. I do not think like they do.  On some things I come to appreciate how they do them (wearing babies on the back rather than the front), but other things will never make sense to me (running after the group of young men and then running away from them when they come at you). 

Mariama and Lydia-Ann go out to play with their friends. The squealing can get loud. I ask my girls to turn down the volume because we do not need to disrupt the whole neighborhood.  The girls though are having great fun together, whether in playing tag or police or just letting their friends braid their hair. 

Sometimes a group of school children on their way home pass the house and stop to watch because they have never seen white children.  

Sometimes the neighborhood boys think it funny to frustrate the girls because they can get a rise out of Mariama.  I try to stay calm to correct the boys, but I find myself impatient after hearing Mariama get frustrated one time too many. Sometimes after hearing me correct them in their language, they stand there staring, as if I had just spoken some foreign language rather than their own. I get more aggravated. I have to remind myself to stop talking and being dramatic.  

If I don't want them to stare like I am a cinema, I have to stop acting like one. 

(I talk the situation out with my house helper the next day. She agrees the situation was out of hand. She tells me I must go see their mother. I tried to go see her but she was asleep.  My guess is the mere fact that I went to their house was enough to make them nervous and to set the boys straight. If there is a next time, I will go straight to their parents rather than wait.)

This story and the other incidences of late where I drew more attention than I desired reminded me of Jesus teaching the people. He asked them why they went out to the wilderness to see John the Baptist. What had drawn the people to John? Was it because he was dressed finely? Certainly not! Was it because he was strange? While this was true, they were accustomed to those possessed by spirits, so certainly John was nothing on the strange chart. So what was it? It was that his words declared the Coming King. 

No matter how much I try to blend in here, I will always stick out. If I am going to be stared at, I want it to be for the right reasons. I don't want it to be because of how I am dressed or my losing my patience, but I want it to be my declaration of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. If I am marked strange, let it be because of a life wholly surrendered and obedient to the Lord. 

If you don't want them to stare, don't give them anything at which to stare....

But if they are going to stare, make sure it is for the right reasons. 

Rules of the Road

I wrote this blog several weeks ago but am just now getting a chance to post.

"He who looks, waits."

"Don't look if you don't want to buy."

Upon our return to our country, I knew I was going to have to practice driving to get used to it again. I had to remember how to drive a standard, diesel machine. I had to get used to the roads, and yes, I had to get used to the traffic. 

One morning I drove downtown to visit my doctor to say thank you for everything he had done. Finding a parking spot was a challenge but in the end not all that difficult. After a long wait and a quick visit, I was back on my way. Getting back out of downtown was just as crazy as getting there. 

A day later, I needed to return some home school resources to a closet we keep. These resources were ones I had ordered last year and then never got to use because we left. On the way across town, I was totally intent on my driving, because it had rained the night before and I needed to remember how to get to my destination. On the way back however, some thoughts came to mind. 

First was the rule I mentioned earlier, "He who looks, waits." With so many people, if you look to see whose turn it is, you are the one who will wait, and wait, and wait. As a result, not a lot of looking happens. While looking to see that you are not going to hit someone or be hit is a good thing, you may never go at all if you wait for a clear opening. Life is like that a lot. We need to be aware of our surroundings, but if we look too long, we may never move forward. Sometimes you just have to start moving. If you overthink the intersection, you may not  move forward at all. 

Second, I was reminded to keep my eyes open, in spite of "don't look if you don't want to buy." I got up to an intersection where various sellers walk up and down offering their wares to those driving by them. If you look at them, it is assumed that you are interested in purchasing said items and the seller will come to your window. In most cases, I am not looking to buy anything they have, so I try not to look at them at all. However, at this same intersection, young boys ranging in age from four to ten can be seen begging for money for their caretaker. (I have written other blogs about these Talibe boys.) If I don't look at the sellers, I also do not see the beggar boys. I miss seeing their lostness. I miss seeing those who are desperate for kindness. Sometimes I have something for them and sometimes I don't, since we try not to give them money. (See other blogs for explanation.)  If I close my eyes to the distractions, I also miss what really matters. 

I am trying to remember to keep my eyes open but not look too long either. 

"We are the Only Ones Leaving."

Sage advice I was given my neighbors who were moving the day before we did two years ago. I thought I understood at the time what it meant, but I have really come to understand it this time around. 

After thirteen months, we have spent what time we could with people.  As a whole, if we really wanted to spend the time and felt it was reciprocated, then we did. While with some people, time is never enough, no matter how much of it you have together, and others you feel close to without it being a large quantity of time. So as our time drew to a close, I did not feel the rush to spend time with people like I did two years ago. Don't get me wrong, there are people I wish we could have gotten together with more, but overall, my heart is full of the sweet moments we did have. Thus, when it came time to focus on packing and play dates had to be forfeited, I was ok with that.  Rich and I knew what had to be done to get prepared to leave. We could not rush from one thing to another and still get ready. We were the only ones who could do the packing, because we were the only ones leaving. 

That coin had another side though. When it came down to leaving, we could not expect people to drop their lives to say goodbye to us. Our time was short and it was hard to plan ahead. We seized opportunities that arose at the last minute. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. People have their lives that will go on once we leave. After all, we are the only ones leaving. 

When we boarded the plane after our 8 month stateside in 2013, I felt like there was just not enough time. Now after 13 months in the states, I feel like we had more than enough, maybe too much. It is a strange thing to leave a place that should feel like home because it is filled with family, literally and spiritually, to go to a place that feels like home, where we have so little family. Just makes me long all the more for that eternal home, with no more goodbyes. Heaven is my real home. I am just a stranger passing through. 

Beatitudes from the Beach

As Robert Frost penned, no day on the coast is ever the same. One day has a high sand bar and the next does not. One day has a lot of seaweed and the next is completely clear. Today's sand castle is gone tomorrow, or at least by next week. Yesterday's shark sighting is replaced by today's stingray. Yesterday's shell expedition is replaced with today's crab hunting. Today's footprints will change the sand for tomorrow. First, savor the good day, because you will not get this day back, and hold on when it is a bad day, because change is coming. Second, we choose what kind of footprints we leave on other's lives, so let us choose wisely today. 

Moms do not get a vacation. Best job in the world but never a day off. Kids still have to be fed and dressed, have boo-boos to be kissed and rashes to treat. They still have to be reminded not to run around the pool or watch that they do not jump on their brother. Kids still need help choosing wisely from the menu and to know that the fro-yo place is a cafeteria, not a buffet. They need to be reminded to carry their hat to the beach, jackets to restaurants, and make up beds so they do not get sand in them. Thankful for the recent empty nester mom on the lounge chair next to us that reminded me how soon the time will pass. In twenty years, I can stay on the beach and read as long as I want, but for now, I will go to the pool instead if that is what all the kids want to do. 

Speaking of kids, I have the best ever! I know I am biased, and I am ok with that. Without William, I would live a life of ignorance. He retains everything he reads and learns. Though I wanted to believe it was a dolphin passing in front of our condo, he explained why it had to be a shark instead. Though I knew I spotted a ray, he was able to tell me that it was a stingray. Though it was me that caught three blue crabs, he was able to tell which was oldest based on the barnacles on its shell and which was a female based on the shape of the shell. He constantly has information to share, not as a know it all but just informative. He also makes friends so easily. He learned how to skim on the waves a little from an older teenager with whom he made friends and got a YouTube to follow from a girl he started talking to on the beach.  He is awesome! 

Without Mariama, my life would be boring. She adds flair to everything! While I sometimes have to ask her to put the drama on pause, the world really is her stage, as Shakespeare said. When she is waiting for everyone, she pretends she is skyping with friends. She picked out a lovely scarf last week and learned to tie and wear it as a cover up, much more flowy than the shorts I had for her. She does not just eat a snack, she savors every morsel. She does not just play in the pool, but rather makes it into a dinner and a show. She does not just build a castle in the sand, but she builds a sand cake and serves it up. She does not always mean to be bossy when she is telling whose turn it is to press the elevator button, but rather she wants everyone to get a turn and not feel left out. When she wants to ask the waiter or waitress a question about the meal, it is not to show disrespect to the adults with whom she is eating but simply her growing up.  The manager at Ward's was impressed with how she handled herself.  She fills my life with fun!

Without Lydia-Ann, I would feel old. She still loves to cuddle when she wakes up and is just generally sweet. She has a joy of life that makes anything fun and an independent spirit that makes her fine with or without playmates.  She also is super smart, already learning her math facts.  Four has been my favorite age across the board for all of them, however, their personalities were only really beginning then. I was sad when she turned five, that I will not have a four year old again. Now seeing how fun and interesting the other two are, I look forward to seeing who she turns out to be.  She makes me feel young!

I have lots of mommy fails and miss things in my children's lives, but I hope I never fail to appreciate the uniqueness of each. 

Drying Up

Just three months ago, this scene was very different. It was full, so full that it was overflowing. We had so much rain in the spring that we literally had flooding in our city. The Red River flooded and stayed that way for a long time. This drainage ditch flooded but then drained enough to not overflow continuously. It was so full that it almost seemed hard to remember what it looked like empty or believe that the water would ever completely recede again. Yet, the water has receded and almost completely dried up. The ducks and egrets have enough water to play in but not so much that they will be swept away. Will it completely dry up? 

As I walked and observed this yesterday, it reminded me how I felt earlier this year. In January and February, I was still slow moving from chemotherapy and surgery. I could not get out and do a lot, so I got to spend a lot of time reading and studying God's Word. My time in His presence was so sweet that I never wanted it to end. I was full to overflowing like that drainage ditch was in May.  Yet, I did want to be more involved in my children's lives. As I recovered, I got busy being involved with them and their schools, such that those sweet times of being in God's presence got less and less. Sometimes, especially lately with all the preparations to go back overseas, I begin to feel like I am drying up like this ditch. Water is still flowing but a whole lot less. 

Which one should it be, flood or drying up? While I yearn for that time with the Lord, I missed terribly being involved in life. While I love that I am able to be involved with my children and help my husband, I miss being filled up to overflowing. Unfortunately, this becomes daily life for so much of us, the dried up place. Maybe that is why others do not see Jesus shining through us, because we only have a small stream of Him. What should it look like? 

Well, the Psalmist, in Chapter 23, says that God "restores my soul" and "preparest a table for me in the presence of my enemies, my cup overflows." Overflows! Then the Psalmist in chapter 114 says,"7 Tremble, O earth, at the presence of the Lord, at the presence of the God of Jacob, 8 who turns the rock into a pool of water, the flint into a spring of water."  If the Lord will turn a rock into a pool and a flint into a spring, surely I am to be no less.  

So how do we find a balance? We must carve out time to be in His presence, to allow Him to refresh us. The Spirit of the Lord is enough, yet if we are not still for Him to pour into us, it will be hard for our cup to overflow. Those looking at my life from the outside may think my Lord is not enough because I am drying up, but it is not His fault if I am not being still to be renewed and filled. So I must remain filled for my own peace of heart as well as for the sake of His Great Name! 

O Lord, fill me up to overflowing! Don't let me dry up!

A Year Later

I wrote this blog last week but then did not post it. So, the days are actually two weeks ago now, but you get the idea. 

One year. 365 days. Has it really been that long? Has it only been that long? 

Last Monday was one year since I left Senegal.

Last Tuesday was a year since my first Mammogram and biopsy. 

Last Thursday was a year since I got the official diagnosis of cancer. 

Saturday was a year since I first talked with my doctor about the options regarding surgery.

Yesterday was a year since I saw some of my family for the first time post-diagnosis and saw a friend whose mother had been through breast cancer twice. 

Today is a year since I first worshipped post-diagnosis and was encouraged by another survivor that this would be my journey, not someone else's.

A year ago tomorrow, my family left Senegal to join me here. 

Some days seemed to never end. I feel like I missed out on a lot with my children. In some ways the year seems like a blur, going by so fast and me not remembering all of it. On the other hand, I am grateful for those who stepped in to help with meals and transporting children, so that Rich could care for me and I could help the kids when I was able. I am thankful for the people we have met this year, who have blessed us beyond measure. 

So how am I doing? 

I do not have as much energy as I did a year ago, but I have so much more than I did earlier in this process. Thus I have to choose carefully on what I will spend my energy. I have slowed down, for which my husband is probably thankful. I have learned to give more responsibility to my children regarding caring for the home, for which they are probably not so thankful. 

I have hot flashes as a result of my treatments, but I am managing those.  

I sometimes begin to say something but then get flooded with thoughts, so I have to pause to gather my thoughts to speak clearly, and even stumble at that point. I tend to be forgetful. Both of these I attribute to what is called "chemo brain."

I am mostly recovered from surgery, but tight hugs still hurt, as I found out yesterday.

I am still having trouble remembering to take my medicine every day, but I am getting better. 

A year later, through everything, I am more certain than ever, that my God is able! I shared how God had laid the story of Shadrach, Meshack, and Abednego on my heart. My God is able to deliver me, but even if He does not, I will not bow to another. Through everything, my source of peace has been Jesus. No other name under heaven by which we can be saved and no other name promises assurance of eternal life. I had peace through everything this year knowing where I would go if I did not beat the cancer. I had peace knowing that God would care for my husband and children if I were not here to do so. (Truly He is the One caring for them daily even when I am here.)   Because I did not have to worry about the outcome, I was able to have peace throughout the journey. I was drawn closer to Him through His Word as I went through chemotherapy and surgery. Knowing Him, there is no greater thing! 

Celebration Badges

Someone asked me the other day what my favorite thing about our trip to Disney was. After having so many things come to mind and telling them, it occurred to me what my favorite thing was. The badges! 

(Badges? We don't need no stinking badges! 

Ok, so now I got that out of my system.)

I loved getting to say "Happy Birthday," "Happy Anniversary," and "Congratulations" to newly weds. It was wonderful to rejoice with others. 

Yes, it was also great to wear my badge that said, "Celebrating Cancer-free." I don't think I ever had to explain what it was we were celebrating because the kids were so excited to share. I also got to brag on how awesome my husband and kids have been this year in caring for me. It was fun to get hugs and high-fives from characters. The best were Phineas and Ferb, who came out of their greeting area once they found out just to give me hugs. 

More than the congratulations from characters, though, was the opportunity to encourage others. We did not originally plan to see Fantasmic, but then we changed out fast passes to do so. Then as we entered, a cast member gave us tickets for better seats that someone else had given up. We had the best seats in the center.  The seats were made better by the family who sat behind us. The woman had been diagnosed with stage four cancer in 2012 and was given 6 months to live. She was there celebrating life with her family and has the goal of being there again in 2017. I had the pleasure of talking with her about her journey and how God, not fate, had put us together. I got to pray with her that God would continue to give her strength and joy in the journey. 

Wouldn't it be great if we could wear badges everyday to tell what we have to celebrate? Wouldn't it be great to rejoice with each other everyday? Oh, we do have badges, though they do not have pins. We have the ability to smile and tell others why we are rejoicing and ask them what they have to celebrate. How much happier would we all be if we focused on what we have to celebrate? Smile today!  Celebrate life!

Wait! Just Wait!

I think I learn a lesson, and then I get it again. Maybe one day it will stick.

Week before last was children's camp. I had at one time volunteered to be a counselor, but they had all they needed. An art teacher was going to be doing a Painting with a Twist class with the girls, but she needed some assistance. This is the job for which I was recruited.  I could go out to camp daily but not have to spend the night. In light of how tired I got that week, it was a good thing I was not a counselor.

On our last day, one sweet girl was asking for direction. They were instructed to paint the background  and then paint the cross in the center. Details could be added to both later. When this girl was done with the background, she asked if she could move on to the cross. I suggested she wait a few minutes to allow for the paint on the edges of the cross to dry, so that the paints would not smear. Poor sweet girl! She could not just wait. She kept touching up the background, which did not allow it to dry in a timely fashion. I finally gave her the ok to paint the cross, recommending that she start in the area that had no paint yet, before doing the edges. She did that and it turned out fine. Unfortunately then, she wanted to add light details to the dark background. The paint was so thick that it had not dried. Everytime she went to add a detail, the paints would smear. She came to the point of tears. I tried to comfort her and said it might be better when it dried. After she left, I proceeded to add the detail to the background and outline the cross, under the direction of the art teacher who was there.

Not every painting turned out like every girl hoped, and sometimes they had to change their minds about what they were going to do with their pictures. This little girl reminded me of how often I try to do stuff to just stay busy, when God just wants me to wait. He is working in the midst of my waiting, even if it is just to dry the paint. Not until I stop doing and wait can He add the beautiful details.

The little girl came back to get her painting and was so excited to see it finished. Maybe if I learn to wait, I will get to see some of the beautiful details too.

Ripping the Seams

I have recently picked up sewing as a hobby. Well, it is not completely a hobby, in that it is not just for fun. I have made dresses for the girls for our family vacation in two weeks. I saw some girls at church in dresses and thought, "I can do that." Why I thought that, I have no idea. It has been years since I have even touched a sewing machine. 

Then I was on my way to a Dollar Tree when I saw that Hancock's Fabrics was having a sale. I went in and found all I was hoping to find and more. I even found a pattern, which turned out to be more complicated than the dresses I saw at church, but still "easy." I asked a friend if I could borrow her sewing machine. Since she teaches home economics, she had access to a machine that the school was actually giving away. With my material and my machine, I sat down to make the dresses. Unfortunately, reading the pattern was like trying to read Greek, so I set out to figure it out on my own. 

When I was growing up, I would design clothes by drawing or wrapping scraps of fabric around my Barbies. Now, actually trying to put these pieces of fabric together was more challenging. I knew how I wanted to put them together, but I did not do them in the best order on Mariama's dresses. Sometimes I had pieces sewn together already that needed ruffles. I wished I had done them differently. I learned from my mistakes and did better on Lydia-Ann's. 

My most trusted tool during this time was my seam ripper. When the material was wrinkled underneath, I ripped the seam. When I sewed it higher than I wanted, I ripped the seam. When I caught the hem of the dress in the ruffle attachment, I ripped the seam. When things did not look quite right, I ripped the seam and started again. Now the dresses are done. They still are not perfect. There are some flaws. 

The dresses are a reflection of me. There have been times that I really messed up,and God had to rip my seams. My "seams" are better than they were, but I still have flaws. Just like I did not want to give up on those dresses, thankfully, God does not give up on me. 

This last week and a half since my clear PETscan and status of remission, I should have been rejoicing. However, an element of survivor guilt has crept in. I think of my friend, who is watching her mother suffer from brain tumors that began with breast cancer.  I think of the family of my husband's good friend, who just passed away recently from colon cancer. I think of the young lady at church who is planning her wedding without her mother, who passed away a few months ago from breast cancer. I think of the sweet family who has been watching their little boy fight cancer for the last several years and just received some very hard news.  I think of the man at church raising two girls alone, because his wife passed away from cancer a year and a half ago.  I have been so encouraged throughout this last year by other survivors, but now I feel guilty being one.  

The oldest daughter of the man raising two girls has encouraged me that God is not done with me yet. I pray that it is for ministry still left to be done, but I am sure that it is true in the work needed to be done within me. I am still in need of refining and need the Holy Spirit daily. I still have some seams to be ripped and resewn.  God is making something beautiful of this mess called me. 

Purify my Heart

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 

Matthew 5:8

This year has given me opportunities to learn things as God revealed them directly to me from His Word and revealed through my children. William has been such a vessel this year. 

One of William's teachers just adored him from the very beginning. (As his mom, I adore him, but others may see him differently.) As time went by, she and her husband shared that William's uniqueness comes from his pure heart. What a precious gift and joy he is to be around as a result! 

Now, William is not perfect. He makes bad choices and can be a knucklehead about things. He forgets things and has trouble interacting with others.  He does not always get jokes that pertain to the culture, because of our living overseas. However he has a heart of gold, even as he wades into the teenage years. 

William came to salvation at an early age. I accepted Jesus as my Savior at an early age, though not as early as he did. I struggled as I grew over whether I was really saved and rededicated my life several times, just to be sure. William has had times this year that he felt he needed to rededicate his life to the Lord. How can one with a pure heart need to rededicate? 

These moments have opened up the door to talk about the two sides of salvation, justification and sanctification. Justification happens when we first realize we are sinners unable to live up to God's standard of holiness and accept the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross to bridge the gap between us and God, making Jesus Lord over our lives. Though I wish that instantly transformed us into perfect people, it does not. 

Sanctification is the process of us being made to be more like Christ as work out that salvation and what it looks like to live as Christ, usually through the trials of this world.  How I wish someone had really been able to explain that to me when I was his age, but then maybe they did andI just did not understand.

We have talked several times this year about what God might really be saying to him. He is the only one who can truly know about where his heart is with God, but others around him, Rich and I, his teacher, see fruit of the Spirit in him. Maybe rather than needing to be saved, it is God working to refine him. What could he be concerned about in his life if he is so "pure in heart"? He worried that his video games were taking God's place in his heart.  Wow, convicting to even be that sensitive. What do I let take focus in my heart? Am I that burdened by it? We have talked about the conviction we feel actually being an example of His presence in our hearts, because without His presence, we would not feel that same level of conviction. 

Purify my heart, Lord, make me more like You. 

Birthdays

I like Dove dark chocolate. I bought a new package this weekend. The first two pieces that I ate both said, "Be proud of your age."
Did they know my birthday was coming up this week? Of course not, but a little eerie to me.

I got to thinking about the last couple of birthdays.  One month before my birthday in 2013, I went parasailing in a bay for the first time, with my mother no less. One month before my birthday in 2014, I went ziplining over the Victorian Falls Gorge. This year, a month before my birthday, I went parasailing solo over the ocean, and I was able to see a group of dolphins as I did so. It kind of makes me curious about what next year will hold, but I am getting ahead of myself.

Last year on my birthday, we were in the capital welcoming new summer volunteers to our team and getting them ready for the adventure ahead of them. Our family had just come back from training, and I was excited to put into practice all that we had learned. In the weeks following, I was scratched by a monkey while out with our super summer volunteers, got to oversee language evaluations for our amazing teammates, and attended a funeral for a chief.

Then all plans went out the window when I was sent back to the states to be properly diagnosed. The cancer stopped my agenda, but it did not stop God's. I would never have imagined how this year would have gone.  I am a year older and I feel a good bit wiser. So this week I will celebrate another year of fabulous, that is a fabulous God who has walked our family through this year and will continue to do so. I am thankful for all those who have walked this journey with us through prayer and encouragement.

So Dove, I will indeed be proud of my age!

Caterpillars and Butterflies

Spring is in the air!  The temperatures have warmed and the showers are giving way to flowers.  The magnolia trees are beginning to burst forth in blooms. My weeks are full of end of the year activities like field day.  I am thrilled to be able to participate in my children's lives again and care for my husband, who took his turn again for surgery.  I have been so busy, that I have not had as much time to ponder and write.

The other day as I drove to pick up William from school, the Lord opened up a conversation with my little girl. She is learning the letter "I" at school this week and they were talking about insects that day.  They talked about butterflies being insects and how caterpillars turn into butterflies. She said that her teacher also said that butterflies turn into caterpillars. I am confident that she heard incorrectly, but it was a beautiful reminder to me.

We in our sin are like the caterpillar.  We were created to be something beautiful and all have the potential to be transformed.  Once we become that new creation, we do not go back to being a caterpillar.  It would look silly for the butterfly to come out of the cocoon and go right back to crawling like before. We would ask why it is not using the wings it has been given. So let us also not go back to our old ways after we have been made new.  I wish it were easy to be transformed, but the butterfly does not have it easy either. In fact it is the struggle that gives the butterfly strength to fly.  None the less, once a caterpillar has been made into a butterfly, there is no going back. For those who have truly believed on the name of Jesus and been saved, we neither lose our salvation. Praise be to the Lord! Praise be to Him who does not give up on me but is constantly working to transform me into His likeness.

Spring is in the air! Praise be to the Creator!

Get the Stink Off!

Whenever we go through struggles, our bodies can react in different ways. My struggles and your struggles are not the same, but that does not mean they are not struggles.  How my body reacts and how yours reacts are different.  After having the flu and some very emotional days lately, I was just worn out today. I rested. I wanted to rest some more. However, I made myself get up and out, and I am so glad I did. 

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes fatigue is your body's way of telling you what you need. I laughed to myself a few weeks ago. While waiting at radiation, I overheard a conversation between two other patients.  One woman talked about going home and being tired, so she used some anointing oil and rebuked that demon. Now we have become users of essential oils, though not as strictly as some.  However, their bodies going through all they were, probably just needed rest.  I wanted to shout, "Take a nap!"

Then there comes a time when you just have to

"Shake it off!"

"Go on, get out there. Get the stink off." 

"You are one workout from a good mood," as a friend says. 

It comes time to stop focusing on the struggle and move on to the next thing.  I felt the stress and strain of the last few weeks run off my shoulders. The sun shone on my face. So when it is time to rest, rest! When it is time to move on, get up and out!