O Magnify...

What does my life magnify?

  -the wretchedness, the anguish, the evil of the world around me?
  -the peculiar faults and needs of the people I work with?
  -the failures and weaknesses of my loved ones?
  -my own pain, my inadequacies, my fears, my burdens?

Or perhaps,
  -my possessions, my family, my ministry, my gifts?
  -my ambitions, my dreams, my experience, my achievements?
  -my opinions, my wisdom, or my goodness?

Oh, let it be none of that!  My heart cries with Mary, "My soul does magnify the LORD, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior."  So, what does magnifying God look like in my life?  It is praise and thanksgiving, especially when it is costly.  It is inviting God to transform me by the renewing of my mind, although old thought patterns are easier.  It is living each moment in the reality that life is all about Jesus, and Jesus only.  It is not beating up my old self, but simply not taking it into consideration at all.  Surrendering my will for His, even when mine feels better...  Looking at life with eternity in my heart...  Expressing joy when I don't feel like it...  Showing appreciation when it's not deserved...  Loving people who don't make me look good...  Speaking words of life in place of condemnation...  Dispelling fear with trust and love...

What about magnifying God to my children?  Do they know that honoring God is the most important thing in my life?  What do they see when my plans are thwarted, my will crossed, my expectations not met?  Do they see me stress over my dirty house but careless about the hurting person beside me in church?  Obsessed with being right but casual about being loving?  Eager to invest in what directly benefits me, and reluctant to sacrifice for the sake of another?  Free to criticize behind someone's back, while being sweet to their face?

What would they say my life magnifies?  Me... or Jesus?

Questions

I have always been inquisitive by nature. I want to know the how, the why, and the because of everything. I love to learn and I abhor stagnation. In my journey with God, I ask questions, lots of them. I'm not the meek, resigned saint who dares not to wonder why; rather, I am the persistent two year old who trails after Daddy asking dozens of questions and responding to each answer with "Why?". Maybe that says something about my maturity- after all, Josh asked wa-a-ay more questions at two years old than he does now at fourteen. There have been times when my questions were demanding and I even tried bargaining with God in an effort to hear from Him, but now- I ask questions not so much because I expect to get answers, but because voicing them helps put them into perspective. That's how I've felt this week as I grapple with the death of the only son of my missionary cousin in West Africa. Christopher was a gift to his family and I know they loved him as such, but how could they know that the assignment of his life was for only ten short years? What parent is ever prepared for the searing pain of laying to rest the flesh and blood that they conceived and birthed and nourished and cherished? How do they go on living while dying, rejoicing while mourning, being strong when their world has fallen apart? How do they grieve the loss of one child while celebrating the gift of the remaining three? In the midst of such agony, how do they show the goodness of God to the world who is watching, or perhaps more importantly, to their own children? Is this anguish really worth the salvation of even one soul who may be watching?  My heart lies exposed to view as I wrestle with the questions. It is humiliating to realize that I have been economy-minded instead of heavenly-minded; that I want my sacrifices to insure me from grief and pain.

But I am slowly learning a few things...  One, that peace lies not in answers that I can grasp and interpret, but in JESUS.  Peace is relinquishing my right to know and to control, and resting in the goodness of God even when I can't feel it.  After reading a letter written this week by Christopher's mama, I am in awe at how abundant the grace and peace of God really is.  I do not doubt the intensity of the pain and the finality of death, but the faith shining forth from their broken hearts assures me anew of the greatness of my God.   My questions fall to the dust and I simply worship Him.  

Christopher, you never knew how many people would be touched by your death.  Eric, Martha, Marissa, Carolyn, and Bethany- you are being prayed for now more than ever before in your lives.  Who knows what  fruit may come forth from your sacrifice and the prayers invested in your family?  The Lamb will receive the reward of His sufferings in your lives, even now!  ...We love you.

Breakfast Table Conversation

Six year old: "When I get big, I am going to live in the States!"

Ten year old: "Why?"

Six: "Because that's where my friends are. And my uncles."

Three year old, giggling: "Uncles? Your uncles live in the states? Your uncles are on your feet!"

Mandie Jane, you light up my life!

The Spoiling of Our Goods

It was inevitable. For weeks we had been noticing the prowlers in the wooded property bordering ours; people chopping wood, taking bananas, digging in the dirt. Our egg-laying chickens were disappearing at an alarming rate so we put up extra lights between the shop and the hen house. But as is always the case, we do not calculate like thieves do and they do the very thing you don't expect them to do. In this case we cleaned our apartment on Friday forenoon in preparation for guests, then left the door unlocked since we were planning to be back in the room in the afternoon. While we enjoyed lunch with our visitors, a band of rogues must have tried the doors and found it to be their lucky day. In a very short time they carried off an amazing quantity of goods from the apartment and the kitchen. When I walked into the rooms shortly after lunch and found the doors open, muddy tracks on the floor, and furniture gone, I was in disbelief. I just didn't realize thieves would enter those rooms at midday and run off with things like a wooden dresser, large mirror, foam mattress, and electric roaster... but hey, what do I know about stealing? With the exception of a few small items, everything that was stolen was gifts to us, most given specifically for ministry purposes. The police came out and did the expected- strolled about with handcuffs dangling conspicuously from their pockets, remarked that our dogs weren't doing their job, and declared that the thieves were obviously not armed since they obviously weren't professionals. (Thank you very much for that information, now could you please get my stuff back?) But no, it's gone, and it is unlikely that we will ever see it again or know who the thieves were.

It's just stuff. It's earthly and temporal and what does it matter in the light of eternity? But it is the response of my heart that plagues me with doubt... Does "taking joyfully the spoiling of your goods" really apply to me? After all, this surely was not an attack on my personal faith in Christ... or was it? Did my three year old pick up on my attitude when she suggested "shooting them in the head"? If I committed all my possessions to God, why should I be troubled? I know that stuff won't matter in heaven, but is it okay to want it now? What would Jesus do??? The questions march round and round, and most of them remain unanswered. And so I take a deep breath, and let go. Let go of my rights, my goods, my wants, my questions. Empty myself. Trust God. Love passionately. Live joyfully. Believe in redemption...

These are still the best days of my life.

Treasures

Until recently, I didn't give much thought to the fact that freedom is a really big deal to God- so big, in fact, that He created us with free wills and gave us the option of making some really foolish choices. For some reason, He wasn't satisfied with making robots and placing them in a perfect Garden with only the best and loveliest of everything. No, He created humans in His image, and then put the option of a very bad choice right smack in the middle of their paradise. I don't know about you, but that's definitely not what I would have done! If there had to be a bad choice, surely it would have been a good idea to put it far away, well hidden from sight, or then build a tall fence around it plastered with lots of "Danger-Keep-Out" signs. But that wasn't God's way. Why, I've been asking myself, why did God do this? How could He put Himself at such a huge risk, knowing all the while the heartbreak we would cause Him? And the only answer I get is, because He had a plan- a plan for the worst case scenario- and that plan was redemption! Something inside of me (my personal John the Baptist, I like to think) leaps for joy every time this thought hits me. Redemption and reconciliation... it has been God's heart from eternity past. Jesus, the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world! Now this truth is the best news I've ever heard, but the real question is, what does it look like in my own life? How does this play out in my relationships with others? "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the exceeding greatness of the power may be of God, and not from ourselves." (2 Cor. 4:7) God chose to put His greatest treasure -His own glorious image in the person of Jesus- into our hearts. And maybe it wasn't so much "in spite of" our weakness and sinfulness, but "because of" -that the world would know that the power is God's and not our own. Suddenly I am looking at my fellow believers with a brand new perspective. God put His greatest treasure in him?! God took the risk of putting His treasure in her?! How can I possibly criticize them, their immaturity, their twisted way of viewing life? Oh, if we could capture God's heart for redemption and reconciliation, imagine how our relationships would be transformed! Instead of controlling each other and putting the pressure on for performance, we could relax and be free to just LOVE! Love our spouses, our children, our fellow believers, our leaders. Love them gladly, freely, and abundantly. Love them with the love of God Himself, drawing them right into His marvelous kingdom. Believing so firmly in God's power to redeem and save that we just love, love, love!

Oh, yes! Let's do it!

Real Life

Last week the missionary man, better known as my husband, took a trip about seven hours south of here to preach the Gospel. Two of the guys from church accompanied him and they had a marvelous time with divine appointments, spiritual encounters, and making new friends in the Body of Christ. That's what missionaries do, right? Meanwhile, I stayed home and cheerfully carried the responsibility of the family, the house, the farm, the workers, and the animals. I prayed many hours for my preacher husband and gathered my children around me to teach them profound Bible lessons. That's what missionary wives do, right?

Ha. Did you really believe that? Oh the first part is true, alright, but the part about me is sort of, well, wishful thinking. (Except for the part about staying at home.) Truth be told, I didn't want my man to leave. It didn't feel good, and I didn't feel like playing the part of the proverbial brave missionary wife. The morning of his departure, I fried pancakes with a huge lump in my throat, packed his clothes in tears, and said "Goodbye, I love you" on the outside while saying "Just leave so I can cry!" on the inside. Yes, I cried a lot. And prayed. I prayed that God would bless him abundantly, although some times even that was laced with selfishness... "Please make his trip worthwhile so my sacrifice isn't in vain!" And I fought a lot. Fought for the lives of our new chicks, fought to bring my thoughts into captivity, fought the weeds in the garden, fought crazy hormones and moments of panic. "He hasn't called for a whole day, what could have happened?!" And then he did call, and I was so rattled I ended up in tears, again. I tried to share his excitement about their experiences and all the things God was teaching them about walking in the Spirit, but inside I was going, "You're not asking how I am!" But if he had asked, what would I have said? He's evangelizing the world and I want to complain about the chicken pen and my silly emotions?!

You're waiting for the punch line, aren't you? You're thinking, "Goodness she's crying the blues, will she ever get over it?"

I got over it, yes. :) And although this was very much reality to me, I thank God that there is a bigger reality... That HE is bigger than all that. In all my tears, frustrations, and frantic prayers, He never scolded. Never backed off like I do when people get belligerent. He was just there, not saying much, quietly waiting, catching my tears. I used to beat myself up like crazy after times like that, punishing myself until I felt like I was worthy of God's love once more. But He has delivered me from that and now I just rest. His love quiets me. And He reminds me that there have been, and will be, other times. Other realities, moments that take my breath away with the sheer delight of doing exactly what He created me to do...

These are the best days of my life.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder?

That's what they say.

I am not up to making an explanation about my absence from the blogging world. Those who really know us, have an idea of why I needed some time away, and those who don't know- well, what difference does it make? I have been praying for a long time about resuming blogging, and frankly I still don't have a clear answer. It's time consuming, and there is the constant snare of exalting something other than Jesus Christ, which is one thing I cannot afford to do, something, in fact, that I wish to abhorr like nothing else. If I choose to blog, something else will probably have to go. (Facebook, perhaps?) At any rate, I felt like it was time to break the silence, so Hello! You may hear from me again!

Sometimes There Are No Answers...

Me: "Anthony, I would like you to take a nap this afternoon."

Anthony: "Why?"

Me: "So you don't sleep in church tonight."

Anthony: "Well, what else is there to do there?"

Front Porch Picnic

Mandie was sad this morning that Derek got to go to the city with Daddy, while she had to stay home with Mama. So I purposed to make the day special for her and involved her in doing laundry, cleaning flower beds, and mixing oatmeal bread, with the promise of a picnic lunch on the front porch. It is the most pleasant place to be in the afternoon when the sun is beating at the back door.
First we scared up the tailless lizard and giggled to see him scrambling ever so frantically and fruitlessly on the slippery painted cement floor! Then we spread out the old apple tablecloth and sat down to Mandie's favorites: peanut butter and jelly sandwich, bread and butter pickles, tortilla chips, and charamuscas- the Honduran version of ice pops. "Don't forget to pray for the food!" she reminded me. "How about you thank God for the food?" I suggested, and she gladly complied.
Who cares that our plate had a silly snowman on it while we sweated in the humidity and admired the coconut palms in the front yard?

Pausing between bites, Mandie turns to me with adoring eyes. "Thank you Mama!" "You're welcome," I reply, "I like to make picnics for you." She nods wisely. "I know you do."

The way Mandie relates to the many people in her life frequently inspires and challenges me. Not only does she love and accept each one unconditionally, but she also assumes that every person she meets loves her with the same passion! No wonder Jesus reminds us to be like one of these little ones.

I love two year olds! Their needs are so simple: someone to love them, an important place to fill in life, and occasional sprinkles on chocolate cupcakes...

Furlough, Part 2

I think furloughs are underrated.

I know that not every missionary family is blessed with the kind of support we have, from our families, our friends, and especially our church back in PA. But our trip this summer was exactly the way a furlough should be- late nights and late mornings, family reunions, meals in the homes of our friends, time to pick cherries and raspberries, fishing with grandparents, swimming with cousins, meeting new friends and re-connecting with old ones, good food, impromptu prayer times, laughter and tears, feeling loved and cared for, and especially, fellowshipping with other hungry hearts everywhere we went.

There was the disappointment of finding out that the baby we were expecting in January was no longer living, but even in that we experienced God's peace in knowing we were being lifted in prayer by so many caring people.

And there was the crazy trip to Kentucky with a little wedding anniversary celebration tucked in... A suite didn't seem worthwhile on a missionary budget and a flying, one-night stay, so we paid for a regular room. We still wonder what God really said to the gal at Hampton Inn who said to Tim, "You're a blessed man!" and then handed us keys to a king suite with a jacuzzi!!! We do know what He said to us... That He wants us to celebrate our love as much as He does!

Lastly, there was the meeting with our friend Lynnell who still owns the property where we're living here in Honduras, where she made the startling announcement that she wants to GIVE this place to us! God has provided a house for her in Kentucky through generous friends, and she is blessing us in the same way. There will be a payment made to her mission organization which will be used by her for future projects here in Honduras, but it is a mere fraction of what the property is worth. We really do not know how to receive such an enormous gift, so we give it all back to God, and ask Him to bless our benefactors with His riches in Jesus!

It was a wonderful two months, but best of all, we were thrilled to realize that this is really home and when the time came, we couldn't wait to be back in our own peaceful world.

Thank you, all who enriched our furlough with prayers, groceries, hugs, money, genuine interest in our lives, meals, and just your friendship and love. We are richly blessed!

Furlough

I presume no one has noticed that I don't blog while on furlough. We are spending two months in the USA this summer, and enjoying every bit of vacation, work, family reunions, dinner invitations, travel, and church meetings we can experience. Meanwhile, back at the ranch the workers carry on the duties of weeding the garden, feeding fish, watering flowers, mowing grass, and socializing with the dogs. Better yet, we hear amazing reports of God's continued work in El Eden, and we can't wait to get back where we belong.

Announcing! The fishbowl no longer fits our job description so stay tuned for some blog changes soon. ... "Soon" as in "sometime in the next three months."

God is good, all the time.

The Mighty Have Fallen!

A huge tree falling on a tin roof at five-thirty a.m. makes a racket like nothing I have ever heard before. My first coherent thought was "earthquake", only we weren't quaking. Then I thought a truck must have crashed on the highway, only the noise was much too close by to be that. When Tim looked out the window and announced that a tree had fallen on the apartment, I expected we would be digging Huibertjan -my sister's Dutch boyfriend who was visiting- out of the wreckage. Imagine my relief to see him strolling calmly out of his room, merely blinking at the ruins. (Cheers to the stoic Dutch!)
The porch was completely ripped off, and several holes punched in the kitchen roof, but the block structure remained intact.
The old tree was so rotten at the roots that it merely broke off at ground level. This happened after several heavy rains, although the morning it fell there was no wind at all.
Break time after several hours of sawing. The old frame of an abandoned water tower caught the heaviest blow and directed the tree away from the building, thank God for that!
Clean up was a piece of cake with plenty of helpers!

There is so much to praise God for- no one was hurt, we were at home so we could deal with a broken water line right away, it didn't happen in the middle of the night, (how terrifying would that be?!), and the block walls were not damaged in any way. We felt a bit sad about the loss of the roof, which was just replaced last month by our Ohio friends, but what are several pieces of tin compared to the gift of life?

Thank God for a fallen tree that helps us keep life in the eternal perspective!

Then Sings My Soul

There's an acacia tree behind the apartment that seems extra happy right now. I went out one morning to try to capture a few images of the brilliant orange blossoms, but alas, our outdated point-and-shoot camera does a very sad job.

All the beauty around me continually inspires my heart to worship; it is quite unlike any other place we have ever lived.
I kept taking pictures. Here is one colony of Montezuma Oropendulas, a large type of oriole, who build the most amazing swinging nests!
I never tire of the coconut palms against the blue Honduran sky.

...Or the abundance of fresh limes right at my back door.

Sometimes I wonder why God has been so good in allowing us to live in this small paradise. I mean, we could surely serve Him just as well on some barren little plot of sagebrush and scrub! But I do love the fact that simply opening my front door every morning and facing the sunrise moves me to praise my Creator God. Maybe it is the keen awareness that we have been given so much, much more than we ever asked for or dreamed of, that swells my heart with gratefulness and worship. But then, has it not always been so? Have I ever possessed anything that I rightfully deserved? I think God is simply going out of His way to teach me some precious lessons, and I am honored to be in this school of His!

Monday With Mandie

Some days she is angelic.

And then there was the Monday when the Daddy went to the city and Jo the helper was gone to the airport, and Mandie's day started out with chocolates in Mama's bedroom, before breakfast.
Then she made scrambled eggs.
She helped with laundry and got soaked to the eyeballs, but it was fun, see?
She spilled water on the floor but she knows to mop it up herself.
Noticing Mama's busyness, she volunteered to do dishes, with LOTS of running water. As in, running across the counter and down her arms and over her dress.
She found Mama's purse and the little red pills were too much to resist. We hope she didn't really ingest any.
Thank God for quiet times that turn into naps!
This is what happened to lunch.
In the middle of all this, Derek decided to show Mandie the dangers of climbing on the iron railing around our front porch. "See," he explained, "If you crawl up here you could fall, like this!" and then proceeded to punch his line by tumbling headfirst into the flower bed ten feet below. When I heard his shrieks and Mandie's cries of "Somebody help Derek!" I expected he had fallen from the hammock. Instead, I was horrified to discover he was not even on the porch but lying crumpled on his side in the soft earth beneath the elephant ear plants. By the time I reached him, however, he was up and walking around, crying and moaning incoherently. I checked for broken bones and felt satisfied that they were intact. He kept crying about his head which he appeared to have hit on the edge of the porch on his way down, so I watched for signs of a concussion. I phoned Tim and begged him to help me decide whether a trip to the doctor was necessary, which was a little difficult for him, being many miles away in San Pedro. In the end I only gave him ibuprofen, and assured him repeatedly that no, his front tooth was not knocked out, only bumped and bloody, in spite of his frequent announcements to the contrary. When the group from Ohio arrived, David the medic examined him thoroughly and agreed that there was a concussion but no broken bones. A day later he was up and about and only slightly less active than normal, and a week later he was back to his very enthusiastic self but with a deep respect for porch railings.

Thank God!
-Mandie is a happy, creative child.
-Most days I have a faithful helper at my side.
-Derek is fine.
-Not every day is a Monday.
-This is the life for me!

New Post!

We no longer live in the Fishbowl.

Our new place is lovely and it feels like home.

We are busy getting ready for the missionary retreat next week.

Although we are missionaries, we have no intention of retreating.

Visitors abound and they are kind and helpful and generous.

There is internet access at our house via the cell phone company so we will be WWW-ing again.

Internet is not free, so online time will be restricted.

(Which I think is just fine.)

Now you know we are alive and well, and will pick up blogging... someday.

God is GOOD and we are blessed!

Peace.

Of People and Projects

It's the busiest time of the year here in the Fishbowl... Visitors flow through our doors in trickles and rivers, some announced and some otherwise. The guest rooms are in constant disarray with backpacks and iPods, sunglasses and flip flops, linens and towels. The old house rocks with laughter into the night hours as young people get acquainted over games and popcorn. Other times, there are serious discourses around the living room which may very well conclude in an impromptu prayer meeting. "Can I do something to help you?" is the catchphrase in my kitchen, and willing helpers of all shapes and sizes mill about underfoot, eager to relieve the busy Mrs. Missionary. Whispered consultations take place in out-of-sight corners- "Do you think this is enough of beans?... Did you get the rooms ready for them?... Are they eating here or there?... Whose laundry is still hanging on the clothesline?" New friends, airport trips, travel schedules, church services, goodies from the USA, but best of all, brotherhood and fellowship! Sharing visions, dreams, battles, and prayers. What would we ever DO without guests?!

The current project is the construction of the new book warehouse next door to the Fishbowl. This will mean more storage space for the books, a sales room, and an apartment for single guys. The foundation has been laid and we are preparing for a work crew to come this week to pour the floor.

While that work crew is here, we will do our best to move to our new house in order to vacate this one for Tim's brother Jeremy and his family. They plan to be here for a month while Jeremy oversees the construction of the warehouse. While they are here, a prayer team will be coming from our home church in PA. And Rhonda's family wants to visit at the same time. Then a second work crew arrives. And then a third. (I am not kidding.) The grand finale to all this will be the missionary retreat the last week of March. (I think I am retreating.)

Oh, and did I mention that there is a container en route from the US and expected to arrive here sometime in the middle of all this? And do you know that unpacking containers is terribly exciting and terribly exhausting?

...And to think that all I ever wanted was a quiet life... No, no, wait a minute! All I really want is to be completely immersed in God's love and be a co-laborer in His kingdom work. That is exactly where we are right now, and I would not trade it for anything in this world!!!

Changes

When we came to Honduras in July 2008, it was with the idea that our position at the mission house (aka "The Fishbowl") was only temporary. We intended to buy a small property, build a house, and spend our lives here however God chose to use us. We looked at various plots of land, prayed, asked counsel, and waited for God to make His way clear to us. Several months ago when the mission board was here they gave us the blessing to pursue a purchase, and we continued to pray in earnest. Land prices here in our town are high and at times we felt overwhelmed with the thought of building a house when there are so many more important things to be doing. One day in early November, a missionary acquaintance of ours came to our door. She and her husband had labored here in this area for a long time, until he was killed a few years ago during a highway robbery in a neighboring country. She and her daughters bravely carried on their work here, but recently because of various circumstances, they felt God calling them back to the USA. What to do with their beautiful property here was a difficult decision. True, it could be sold as a "country house" to some wealthy folks from the city, but this family had a vision to see their beloved home continue being used in ministry. So they came to our door with the most amazing proposition we have ever encountered in our lives. Would we be interested in this place- to lease it and take care of it, and possibly purchase it someday??? Tim and I were too shocked to respond properly, but eventually we stammered that we were indeed praying about moving. We had no idea this place was available, and even if we had, we would not have dreamed of asking for something of that magnitude. Meanwhile our friends had no idea we had any plans of leaving the Fishbowl, but after praying and asking God for direction, they felt specifically led to contact us. Isn't it amazing that the God who flung the Milky Way into space with a mere word, also thinks about an insignificant little family wanting to get out of a Fishbowl, and a widow who needs to make an international move and has no idea where to start? I still get thrills every time I rehearse this story! Although from a human perspective this looks like an impossible proposition, God gave Tim and I both a strong sense of peace and confidence that this has always been a part of His plans for us! To make a long story not-so-long, we plan to move sometime in the next two months, Lord willing. This is a huge leap of faith for us; we are simply taking God at His word and believing that where He guides us, He will provide for us. While we will continue to work with Christian Light Mission, we are "on our own" as far as making a living and raising support for this ministry. We believe that we are about to see fulfillments to dreams and visions God placed in our hearts years ago, and we are so excited to be co-laborers with Him! Please pray with us that we would hear from Him on how to use this gift in a way that will glorify Him and build up His kingdom. We are blessed with eight acres of land, a fishpond, plenty of room to garden, a beautiful house very well suited to our family, a guest apartment, dorm space for up to twenty-four people, and much more.

Here's a front view of the house. That porch has already become my favorite spot- with a million dollar view, besides!



Another angle from the front of the house.

Part of our front yard. If you're up to climbing that hill in the background, you get treated to a view of the lake and the town where we currently live.

Guest dorms. Not pictured is the apartment and guest kitchen/dining room.

We are dreaming big, people! ...Missionary retreats, pastor's conferences, youth discipleship training, and prayer teams, to name a few. God has already shown us that our own ideas and dreams are mere peanuts compared to what He wants to do, and we are just thrilled to share a small part in His eternal purposes. Join us in giving God praise!

The Missionary Man

Everyone knows that missionaries don't have to work for their living, right? Take my man, for example- he just studies to preach, and sells Bibles, and feeds his fish, and plants tomatoes, and teaches Sunday School, and fixes E's washer, and attends discipleship class, and opens up the clogged drain, and changes money for C, and unloads the latest shipment of meds, and sets up the sound system at church, and takes guests to the airport, and buys groceries, and talks to the beggar at our gate, and picks the green beans, and answers his phone, and collects school tuition, and visits the sick and anoints them with oil, and builds a playhouse for Derek, and sends in the financial report, and makes tea, and counsels L on how to be a better husband, and changes oil in the truck, and gives money to the family with medical needs, and mops the church house floor, and hangs a picture in our bedroom, and writes a newsletter, and checks to see why the dog is barking, and opens a bank account for A, and plans the missionary retreat, and changes the gas tank on the stove, and settles disputes among the teens, and collects the offering at church, and paints the office, and gives financial counsel to D, and replaces the broken door latch, and prays for the safety of our town, and washes dishes, and pays the VSers their allowances, and brings the mail from the post office, and leads worship, and takes the van to the mechanic, and comforts the grieving, and helps Josh with his Science, and buys a plane ticket for R, and pays the import expenses on the books, and takes the boys mountain climbing, and investigates the strange noise in B's car, and chops weeds, and socializes with the visitors, and gets up early on Saturday mornings to pray with the pastor, and builds a bookshelf, and stands in line at the bank, and removes the toad from the washer, and listens patiently to complaints, and takes me on dates, and spends hours reading the Bible.

And I guess that's why people wonder what he does all the time.

Feliz Navidad

What does Christmas in Honduras look like?


The poinsettias are blooming on my front porch, right alongside the pink petunias and the geranium.

We mowed the lawn yesterday and the scent of fresh grass was simply delightful.

The garden is producing lovely tomatoes and a bounteous crop of green beans.

Last evening we went to Lucas's house for a service, and despite the mosquitoes, had a beautiful time worshiping under the stars.

After the service, we were served the typical Christmas fare of tamales and Coke. Mrs. Lucas makes some mean tamales, I'm telling you.

Like decent gringos, we went to bed at our normal time, only to be awakened after a few hours by some fantastic explosions. I blinked at the alarm clock which read 12:04, muttered to myself about my hatred for firecrackers, and went back to sleep.

We enjoyed a baked-chicken-and-trimmings dinner today, topped off with sugar cookies and hand dipped chocolates. Afterward, my guys did dishes and I... (whispers) ...rested.

The children played ball and climbed trees and Dave went swimming with friends.

Friends showed up this evening and we shared chicken leftovers and tamales with them. A cup of coffee completed my day, which is why I am up blogging at this hour.

I am delighting in the wonder that "God with us" has become "God in us" and pray that you too are experiencing that joy!

Peace.

Because He Lives

...I can face tomorrow/ Because He lives, all fear is gone/ Because I know He holds the future/ and life is worth the living just because He lives! (William and Gloria Gaither)

I certainly didn't expect to be posting about the miracle baby again so soon, but this time it is to announce her home going. Yes, she is safe forever in the arms of Jesus! Last week she had a fussy spell that ended with Tim taking them to a doctor here in town. The doctor prescribed medicine for colic and sent her home. She calmed down and slept until late at night and then she once again began to cry until she was nearly blue. Her anxious parents called Jeremiah who took them back to the same doctor. Seeing her bluish color, the doctor said he thinks she might have a heart condition and urged them to go to the hospital as quickly as possible. On the road, as her daddy held her against his chest, he suddenly felt her clutch his neck and give a little shudder. He knew at once that she was gone. They continued to the hospital and confirmed that life had fled, and then there was nothing to do but make the sad trip home. It seems that at her six-week checkup the pediatrician had told Ricardo that she had a heart defect, and if she would live to be five months old they would consider surgery. Ricardo didn’t tell anyone about this, possibly because he refused to accept it, but more likely he simply believed that God would continue His series of miracles in little “Milagro”. Even now, I am groping for words to convey the grief and anguish that all of us felt during those first few hours. What do you say to a father who loved his child as few men love their children, and now bends over her tiny body, stroking her hands and dripping tears onto her still-soft cheeks? How do you comfort a mother who daily praised God for her “little miracle”, and now sits writhing with sorrow? And what of the eleven year old girl who, such a short time ago beamed with pride over her baby sister, now hangs over the tiny coffin, quivering with sobs??? We prayed, we cried, we asked questions, we dug the grave and built the coffin… and we trusted God. I suddenly understand why Job, in the midst of his calamities, “fell down upon the ground, and worshiped.” Worship comforts and heals like nothing else. God is still good, and kind, and full of compassion. Best of all, God is a Redeemer, and He is completely worthy of our trust! We are inspired and humbled to see Ricardo and Rosi rise up and praise God and declare their faith in Him! In every church service this week, Rosi requested the song, “Because He Lives”. Every morning Ricardo wakes at the time he normally gave the baby her bottle, and immediately these words come to his mind and comfort him. Please pray that they will continue to cast themselves on God!

For pictures and video clips, go here.