tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41840515978326410562024-03-14T12:54:04.638-04:00Lessons in Dancinglearning the moves, following Jesus, and never, ever sitting stillAmyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.comBlogger82125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-32852540945655203582017-09-24T04:37:00.001-04:002017-09-24T04:37:17.536-04:00SunflowersI'm sitting at the LA airport waiting the eight hours until I can check my bags. I think I can safely say that one of the hardest parts of being a missionary is saying goodbye. Perhaps second only to the intense loneliness that comes afterwards... and lasts way too long. It just keeps happening and gets worse every time. When you are oceans away from family and friends you feel in 'limbo', like you are hanging between two different countries.<br />
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In the past five hours I have walked around, stretched, messaged friends, cried really hard in front of strangers walking past (twice), read my bible, and colored in my journal. God often talks to us only after we have waited on him and I've been waiting for a very long time. Just now, I thought he was telling me something about sunflowers but I couldn't quite make it out so I looked up sunflowers.<br />
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When sunflowers are young, they 'follow' the sun. Before it comes up in the morning, they are facing east, waiting for it to rise. As the sun moves across the sky, the flower's stem grows unevenly-faster on the east side-which tilts the flower to the west. At night, the stem grows unevenly as well, faster on the other side, so that by sunrise the flower is facing east again. With this flower's fascination with the sun, it's no wonder it starts to look like one.<br />
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So what's the spiritual lesson? If you want to be beautiful, if you want to look like Jesus, don't take your eyes off him. Live facing whatever light you have! In the seasons of life that feel dark, struggle through them rather than giving up. That way when the sun reappears you will already be facing it.<br />
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Because I am human, I will cry. I will continue to feel like my heart has been ripped apart and scattered all over the globe. But I will keep my face turned towards the light that I have, the pieces I am allowed to keep, the joys and people God has given me for the season I'm in. One day I will be in a place where there is no more darkness and all my loved ones will be in one place with me. I want to be ready when the time comes and bear the mark of Jesus in the meantime.<br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-52373560013766671312017-08-19T12:20:00.001-04:002017-08-19T12:20:05.257-04:00Midwifery Proverbs - A Tribute to Ate Susan<div style="text-align: center;">
"Always believe a mother who says, 'The baby's coming out!' It is."</div>
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"Never feel intimidated or afraid of birth or emergencies. There is a reason people let you deliver babies and it is because you have the training."</div>
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"Go and read! You must know what is happening when it happens and what to do. So read and learn."</div>
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"Never think you know everything that is going on inside that woman's body because you don't! Only God knows what is really happening. You have to pray."</div>
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"A calm, cooperative mother is key in life and death emergencies. You must keep her from panicking and gain her trust."</div>
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"We are a team. Even me, I've been a midwife for many years but sometimes there are things my students notice that I don't. We work together to provide the best care for our client."</div>
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"If the head can fit then the shoulders can too."</div>
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"Input-Output, ok?! You have to watch how much water she drank or had from the IV and how much came out. If you don't, you will end up with a distended bladder and excess bleeding! Input-Output!"</div>
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"No matter how new or experienced two midwives are, they can always learn something from each other."</div>
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Do you have any midwifery proverbs to share?</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-76457665213381253532017-05-27T05:26:00.002-04:002017-05-27T05:40:52.325-04:00Hey guys! I have a project for school in which I need 10 people to fill out the survey above. I would appreciate it if you would be one of them! Your answers will be anonymous and all views are welcome. Thanks :)Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-87166405812637648512017-04-29T14:30:00.000-04:002017-04-29T14:33:55.922-04:00How to Spot a Midwife by Her...1. Hand washing: religious<br />
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For the full twenty seconds. She may even sing 'Twinkle twinkle little star' to make sure it is twenty seconds. Watered down soap drives her crazy. Lack of cleanliness is the main reason Doctors had 5x the number of maternal deaths than midwives in the 1840s. <a href="http://www.npr.org/sections/health-shots/2015/01/12/375663920/the-doctor-who-championed-hand-washing-and-saved-women-s-lives">She knew it before Ignaz Semmelweis.</a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWqhc9_63YPLucrzDMVyVQ2YMB8cCh2Xc8wxxy5HNTIOO09Kx1OcYEKAGRYfjMVZTXwCkJS71YwsIPqSR9TZXun3NSLK9mwmlCUeVLUPUxlW_GYKQEbJCKgAuhxLAn_pTniYMe96vSA8/s1600/hand+soap.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWqhc9_63YPLucrzDMVyVQ2YMB8cCh2Xc8wxxy5HNTIOO09Kx1OcYEKAGRYfjMVZTXwCkJS71YwsIPqSR9TZXun3NSLK9mwmlCUeVLUPUxlW_GYKQEbJCKgAuhxLAn_pTniYMe96vSA8/s320/hand+soap.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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2. Dinner conversation: all things birth<br />
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If there is anyone slightly willing to <strike>talk</strike> listen to talk about pregnant mommies she will talk about it. She lives and breathes midwifery. In fact, she may even eat it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6p_OOCB8vzaf4pFk8ZJQFl9zaXugovxThqG6QQOVR2UuAlDlr7FLnjR0PuvwvaeJjp3vJEzGSwZzm6N28q6J-eqfM8WsKW3WzBUl5D_Y6cvfUKyEATXJAQKRC4DdVCCDtu8sP71fYVk/s1600/placenta+cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP6p_OOCB8vzaf4pFk8ZJQFl9zaXugovxThqG6QQOVR2UuAlDlr7FLnjR0PuvwvaeJjp3vJEzGSwZzm6N28q6J-eqfM8WsKW3WzBUl5D_Y6cvfUKyEATXJAQKRC4DdVCCDtu8sP71fYVk/s320/placenta+cake.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">placenta cake</td></tr>
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3. Texts received: on every subject<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkO3JEiNVS-0yFYHkV_G8sK3wvsUWjp5raeQ9x_J7fBAzUFp8fXfCKkW07t7E6fECd9xK6cQJnPRzCe9jGBxSqmTL_PywIX2Z2BSBUsCP3ug-OD4pSeJMWPG34xGihQq6dsqdzPQkvJBs/s1600/text+lock+screen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkO3JEiNVS-0yFYHkV_G8sK3wvsUWjp5raeQ9x_J7fBAzUFp8fXfCKkW07t7E6fECd9xK6cQJnPRzCe9jGBxSqmTL_PywIX2Z2BSBUsCP3ug-OD4pSeJMWPG34xGihQq6dsqdzPQkvJBs/s320/text+lock+screen.jpg" width="303" /></a></div>
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Every subject including discharge from every part of the body with detailed descriptions. This is not a text from an actual patient but it is very similar to many actual texts I have received. Minus the shorthand in a language I barely know.<br />
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4. Nail polish: none<br />
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Chipped nail polish is the perfect place to grow unfriendly bacteria which cause infection in patients.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15DWIId50wTdQkcqwPR9qHGQpmI-JPja9RnpDDHyk6STJCJURWN7xKjEk6k7H3-Yapusy5p7maLQwTw3v21wEcr0OJyy-cioFZrBp4Z6iBygUUSc2FS90keXluA1vGfpvJfzKfWfax7g/s1600/short+nails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj15DWIId50wTdQkcqwPR9qHGQpmI-JPja9RnpDDHyk6STJCJURWN7xKjEk6k7H3-Yapusy5p7maLQwTw3v21wEcr0OJyy-cioFZrBp4Z6iBygUUSc2FS90keXluA1vGfpvJfzKfWfax7g/s320/short+nails.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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5. Nails clipped: short<br />
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Ditto on the infection. Long nails are also bad for certain other midwife things. If one has to do CPR on a baby fingernails can cut the baby's skin. If a placenta needs to be manually removed long nails can tear up the placenta or even uterine wall muscles. Even taking a pulse or palpating a baby with long nails is simply mean to the mother's poor skin.<br />
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6. Sleeping habits: none<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5kCi6wdMDX3QXlOYRMIRn99RtGQOAXxbBeGKDsP3TGbMxdNI6BEhQFr0sVELdHObnRvjesWIWCrf2UQamctbOikXk767FMQzRADMXNjh12Q7wmEUCvRPryPyFo1Liwk8FuCXu5G2B8TQ/s1600/sleeping+positions.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5kCi6wdMDX3QXlOYRMIRn99RtGQOAXxbBeGKDsP3TGbMxdNI6BEhQFr0sVELdHObnRvjesWIWCrf2UQamctbOikXk767FMQzRADMXNjh12Q7wmEUCvRPryPyFo1Liwk8FuCXu5G2B8TQ/s320/sleeping+positions.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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'nough said.<br />
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<br />Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-67860368080701358222017-04-12T14:12:00.000-04:002017-04-12T14:12:14.016-04:00Snippets From My Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5:00am moonlight</td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: start;">My day started last night because I have absolutely no internal clock. This midwife thing has shredded it completely to pieces. I worked on school all night (besides a couple youtube breaks) and snippet one is when I noticed the full moon outside the kitchen window just before going to bed.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwEDiL02JzJ6uArJfIpRtWA_GWQIUFiMnyq5UKT0iMXiQgrpEpVxHevaWCm9AG3SUVToYJIgP5Fw3YmZzdi5ToxXjINRhkdYqskP3O1lGFHFPGQ_u1YSMP0uZKPjhYt4RFk8aSD5_II4/s1600/5am+moon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitwEDiL02JzJ6uArJfIpRtWA_GWQIUFiMnyq5UKT0iMXiQgrpEpVxHevaWCm9AG3SUVToYJIgP5Fw3YmZzdi5ToxXjINRhkdYqskP3O1lGFHFPGQ_u1YSMP0uZKPjhYt4RFk8aSD5_II4/s320/5am+moon.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the perks of being nocturnal</td></tr>
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Snippet two shook my world. Literally. I was almost asleep when my room mate on the bunkbed above me started moving an awful lot. Then I remembered that my room mate had gone on a trip into the mountains and wasn't even in the bunk bed. It was an earthquake. I haven't felt one in a while. I looked it up later and it was 5.8 magnitude. Enough to swing the bathroom door a little and make me wonder if I should get dressed in case it got stronger. But it didn't.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">So long as earthquakes stay small I think they are kind of cool. It's not like I would ever feel one in West Virginia.</span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pxWH1Pwa-S_bNZnQbwXPtKUB26On3EHKJ-zzb4TDu0gWbwEZcNr1PNdmjZ3oSBnmm2G83xT4EVGRY6hA-mGDwLulgL-o4qiqZ-ZcDga-Zkp-VZ9a6Br9B7RTLOgmWUkyGMUdlSPLQFc/s1600/we+will+rebuild.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8pxWH1Pwa-S_bNZnQbwXPtKUB26On3EHKJ-zzb4TDu0gWbwEZcNr1PNdmjZ3oSBnmm2G83xT4EVGRY6hA-mGDwLulgL-o4qiqZ-ZcDga-Zkp-VZ9a6Br9B7RTLOgmWUkyGMUdlSPLQFc/s1600/we+will+rebuild.jpg" /></a></div>
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Snippet three was quite horrifying. I got up with my alarm and got dressed at 9am for my patient's scheduled prenatal. Then I laid down to sleep a little longer until the clinic texted me to say she was there. But I didn't wake up when they texted! I felt so bad. She must have sat there about a half hour before they texted again and I woke up. That's the second time that happened to me this week so when I got back home afterwards I searched all the settings on my phone to make the ring longer and louder and more than once. Hopefully it doesn't happen again.<br />
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Snippet four is something that has never happened to me before. I woke up again about 4pm and started making a list of things we needed from the market so I could go before it got dark. One of the girls from the other dorms who happens to be British was in the kitchen. She and my housemate were planning on watching a movie. We were just talking some and she walked over and gave me a hug out of the blue. Then she pulled my ear and said, "You're a good egg." I've never been called a good egg before. I guess maybe because I've never had British friends before.<br />
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Snippet five is actually something that happens quite often but has never lost it's entertainment. The jumping, screaming, squealing dance girls do when they see a cockroach. Yes, we have a lot of cockroaches. And we have a lot of girls. I was putting things away from the market run when the squeals first erupted from our visitor in the bathroom. Despite being a 'good egg,' I couldn't help laughing and laughing at the thought of the poor girl stuck on the toilet with the cockroach flying around. She didn't take her endearment back so I assume she forgave me for laughing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJen9afUW3cpTbuxJsZd-zgMblBz_eY7wkx_1NMzPbAahhCHTaPCRZ445a96ybmrYra_0phx5p6IJ6-PPB0evt1y2J32r3B-oebkVQo-lKyIFDhu51uIhRnj-L-T0oEipttyrDhsZB8ko/s1600/cockroach-crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJen9afUW3cpTbuxJsZd-zgMblBz_eY7wkx_1NMzPbAahhCHTaPCRZ445a96ybmrYra_0phx5p6IJ6-PPB0evt1y2J32r3B-oebkVQo-lKyIFDhu51uIhRnj-L-T0oEipttyrDhsZB8ko/s320/cockroach-crop.jpg" width="234" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have started a photo album of cockroaches. My friends think I'm crazy but<br />I think they need to be documented as part of the Philippines experience.</td></tr>
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<br />The last snippet is right now. I'm eating peanuts and blogging on night shift. No labors yet and the postpartum patients are sleeping. Going to get back to school work as soon as I'm done writing this post. Like my outfit?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrB_WxjDUpj63whA-fxb6dr6hkeuWGobr3q0fifKtrwY7pvvb3pdOlGH8P2EER5CdC-EnMRAJwJViKPWl2nnXi7So6KjsyrzHeaCeI7xKnIe4DPHHiQDq0kAjjcMGI-5K2wJj3s9PQFM/s1600/outfit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGrB_WxjDUpj63whA-fxb6dr6hkeuWGobr3q0fifKtrwY7pvvb3pdOlGH8P2EER5CdC-EnMRAJwJViKPWl2nnXi7So6KjsyrzHeaCeI7xKnIe4DPHHiQDq0kAjjcMGI-5K2wJj3s9PQFM/s320/outfit.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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These scrubs are not the most comfortable or best fitting but they do have the MMC logo on them which is kind of cool. The lip shimmer is from my sis from so long ago she probably doesn't even remember and can I just say, I love pink camo! :)Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-47084026345570196992017-01-09T11:55:00.001-05:002017-01-11T02:50:14.898-05:00Begging Along With My FriendOne day a week or two before Christmas I was walking over to my favorite coffee shop to try to get some studying done. Victoria Mall was quite busy with lots of people trying to sell things along the road to the Christmas shoppers or walking around on the sidewalks. Little kids love to carol and beg around Christmas time and there is no shame in it for them even if their family is not poor. They just want the extra coins to spend on kid things. I have been swarmed several times by a bunch of little boys singing and holding out their hands and nodding their heads to encourage me to get out my purse.<br />
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It's also a good time of year for the Badjao many of whom don't have a job besides begging. The Badjao tribe are the 'sea gypsies' who now have stilt houses over the ocean. They have a different language than other Philippinos, and their voices are a rich, deep, sometimes gruff sound. It's a little surprising sometimes to hear a young girl say something and sound like a grown man but it is beautiful in it's own way. They also have lovely characteristic bright colored clothing. I once bought a pair of pants from a Badjao seamstress, though I've never worn them out. A little too bright for me.<br />
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Anyway, back to my story, this day before Christmas I was walking up the overpass over the road and saw a couple Badjao mothers with their children begging. They were sitting on cardboard holding out their tin and paper cups saying "Merry Christmas!" and nodding for people to put in some money. I wondered where 'my' Badjao was.<br />
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I thought of her this way because I had been the one to help when her baby was born a couple months before. Her name was Tina and, if I remember right, she and her mother(who was also at the birth) were Christians. I love Badjao births because they are usually so fast. There are exceptions but for the most part, Badjao don't even look like they are in labor until suddenly you see a baby coming out! They are so strong. I also loved this birth because, surprisingly, Tina and her mother spoke Visayan and were quite friendly talking to me. When it came time to put a name on the birth certificate, Tina said, "Amy" and I was so proud and honored. My first namesake!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_YKItV1gacnZvRd05YbobBCxQlPda5v89G9EkJ_L8LrPPM8CwLzDcRjIgVTzQTuPaU82101_H_QfJzjs0YBotiTm0ees_rOo4Jv91gq2EBfy93n144qxQ0S8PDTJ_R6sNSseGcegVBE/s1600/Baby+Amy+and+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO_YKItV1gacnZvRd05YbobBCxQlPda5v89G9EkJ_L8LrPPM8CwLzDcRjIgVTzQTuPaU82101_H_QfJzjs0YBotiTm0ees_rOo4Jv91gq2EBfy93n144qxQ0S8PDTJ_R6sNSseGcegVBE/s320/Baby+Amy+and+I.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Amy and I</td></tr>
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Of course, since the Badjao don't have calendars, she had never come back for her checkups after the birth. I hadn't seen her again although I did give her pictures of us and the baby through a friend of a friend. I remembered that she lived quite a ways away and worked cooking for a feeding program for some other missionaries. I figured I wouldn't see her again. I was a little sad as I crossed the walkway past the other Badjao.<br />
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Then I heard, "Hi Amy!" and there she was. She was sitting just around the corner on the steps going down with a huge smile on her face and a happy baby in her arms. Boy, did I get funny looks when I sat down next to her! Apparently white people don't usually beg, let alone sit with a Badjao!<br />
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We had a lovely chat, anyway as much as I could understand. I went down to the 7-eleven and got a bag of chips and we ate together and I held her baby. She didn't try to beg from me, just grinned and reminded me the baby was named Amy. Her friend came over and politely asked if I was working at Mercy. I said yes and she pointed out which of her kids was born there. The friend was quite pregnant and informed me she was planning on getting an ultrasound soon at Mercy. Then she excused herself and said she had to get back to begging and hoped I had a Merry Christmas.<br />
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I have seen people begging, Badjao and not, who will stop at nothing. They hit their babies to make them cry and look dirty and pretend to be super hungry in order to get more money. Tina and her friend, though, had some kind of class about them. They had huge smiles. I know they needed money just as much as the next family because when Tina gave birth she didn't have another dress to change into. Maybe they have class because they are Christian. Maybe they just respected the people at Mercy because we have always respected them. I hope I didn't mess up her business by being a white person sitting beside her. Needless to say, no one gave her any money while I was sitting there although she did try to beg some. At any rate, I am thankful for that day when I saw her and baby Amy again. After all, not everyone can say they are friends with a beautiful beggar and her chubby namesake baby.<br />
<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-46348364754045811682016-09-28T11:05:00.000-04:002016-10-08T04:21:03.918-04:00Sa Presensya Mo<div style="text-align: center;">
Thou wilt shew me the path of life:</div>
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<b>In thy presence is fulness of joy</b>; <span style="font-family: inherit;">at thy right hand </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">there are pleasures for evermore. (</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Psalm 16:11)</span></div>
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If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent? Or if he shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him? (Luke 11:11-13)</div>
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I can't do this alone. If I do, I am sure to do things wrong. There is so much I don't understand. I am so glad there is this promise. But more than doing my job for God well, I want to live in His presence. It is the one thing I have desired of the Lord, that I will seek after.</div>
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<b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0gmIaDNPhc&index=4&list=PLB_YkmtcxcMn57Q7ggmfnkeJlEU_tC71H">Sa Presensya Mo (In Your Presence)</a></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Labaw sa gipangandoy (the most to be desired)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Tanang gitinguha</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> (everything I long for)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Namunga ni sa kasing-kasing ko (what is from my heart)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ug sa Imong presensya, (your presence is)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">lamang ko matagbaw (the only place I am satisfied)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ug sa matag adlaw gitinguha (I long for it every day)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa presensya Mo may kaayohan (In your presence there is encouragement/prosper)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa presensya Mo kasigurohan (in your presence, security/shelter)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa presensya Mo adunay kalipay(in your presence there is joy/happiness)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa presensya Mo O Diyos (in your presence, oh God)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sa presensya Mo O Diyos (in your presence, oh God)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Ako nagtinguha (I long to be)</span></div>
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One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple. (Psalm 27:4)<br />
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(click on the title of the song to hear a youtube version and learn a Visayan song)</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-7544410040687532422016-07-29T22:53:00.000-04:002016-07-29T23:05:25.683-04:00My Week<div class="gmail_default" style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;">
I thought y'all might like a sample of my life. I'll try not to make it too lengthly. :) This week I did a little less studying than usual since I finished my assignment early. I maybe should have studied a little more for the test but I think I did ok.</div>
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Saturday night started a lovely relaxing weekend with the girls in my house playing games such as telephone pictionary and truth or dare. We then got to talking about anything and everything under the sun (we especially enjoyed girly topics such as our favorite style of wedding and what kind of wedding dress we want.) I decided that since I am no longer living at home and didn't have anything to do the next day I was going to stay up late (with the girls who were usually on night shift so they were used to being up late). I think I ended up going to bed at 2am like any normal college student. :)</div>
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Sunday I slept in, puttered around a little, read my Bible, and made myself lunch. Several of us decided to go to the same church together in the afternoon. We discovered that if we are all going somewhere at the same time we really need to talk about who is taking a shower when! Thankfully my room mate is a good sport and she handed out my soap so I could shower in the extra bathroom. Worship at church was quite refreshing. Afterwards we went to 'Serenitea' and drank tea and ate some chips and talked about midwifery things and what we want to do after we graduate. Sunday night I tried to sleep early since I knew Monday was a big day but I think staying up so late the night before had thrown off my pattern so I really slept off and on.</div>
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Monday I got up at 5:00am and left for the clinic at 5:30. We are just getting into the busy fall time at the clinic (about 9 months after last year's holidays!). A lady had given birth just before I got there and since I was last in line to catch that day I was put in charge of her. I sat and listened to the outgoing shift tell about all the patients, prayed with them, then got right to work because an immediate postpartum has a lot that needs done (paperwork, birth certificate, controlling bleeding, monitoring vitals, establishing breastfeeding, helping to the bathroom, newborn exam and meds, etc.). At this point I am doing most of the work, just notifying my supervisor of anything abnormal and asking permission before I do anything such as give the baby his vaccine. Of course, if another midwife is free they are usually great about helping anywhere they can. This patient had a little trouble at first getting the baby to suck but after several of us took turns patiently helping she did great. She also had a tear that needed to be sutured. I have not yet learned suturing so I held her hand and tried to distract her while another midwife sutured. She had local anesthetic but it still wasn't fun. Her poor mother couldn't stand to stay and watch so it was all on me.</div>
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Right about when I got her settled two of my other patients decided to show up at the same time for their check ups. I had caught both of their babies and scheduled them one hour apart for check ups but you never know if they will even come back at all let alone the time you said. I wish I had gotten a picture with both of them. One baby was three days old. Everything appeared normal for her. I gave her mom some tips on dealing with engorgement and made sure she knew the baby's cord has to be allowed to dry. A lot of ladies here like to use a 'binkis,' a piece of cloth wrapped around the baby's middle like a sort of bandage over the cord. This doesn't allow it to dry out and can lead to infection. The other baby was one week old. The only problem with her was that her mom's blood pressure was quite high. If we could get it to go down then we knew it was ok, she was probably just dehydrated or stressed or something, but if it wouldn't go down then it might be a hypertension problem. My supervisor told me to have her drink a glass of water and lye down for a while. The mother also said she hadn't had breakfast so I mixed some powdered milk and chocolate powder that we always keep on hand for patients.</div>
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The lady who had given birth just that morning was having trouble voiding. I felt her uterus. It was firm but high in her tummy and off to the side, probably displaced by the urine. This can be a problem because it can prevent the uterus from contracting properly which makes her bleed more. My supervisor and I had her sit up to put some pressure on her bladder and drink several glasses of water. She asked her husband to pass her the baby. He tried for several minutes but couldn't figure out how to pick up the baby. I think he was scared of hurting her. I tried to teach him but I think the high-blood-pressure-patient's husband helped him more. They were in the next bed over. He told the other dad,"Ayaw kahadlok" (don't be scared) and really encouraged him. It was kind of funny but I was glad he was helping.</div>
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I then ate the salad I had packed for lunch. It is very cultural for people to eat together here. If one is eating they always invite those around them to share the food. I'm often amazed how even on busy shifts the Filipinas usually manage to all sit down together for at least a few minutes. My check up patient still had high blood pressure so we gave her a big dose of calcium and some lunch. We were on the verge of referring her to a doctor when it normalized. My supervisor and I both think she was just hungry from skipping breakfast. The other girl was able to void and doing better. A couple of labors had come in but I was too busy to notice if they gave birth or were sent home. There was one in active labor right then. The midwife assigned to her and the supervisor were coaching her to push. When the baby's heart rate started dropping I and a couple others went to help chart and do anything needed. We gave her oxygen and an IV and had her pushing in positions that should make birth faster. When the heart tones would not get faster even with head stimulation and she wasn't making progress pushing we prepared to transport her to the ER. We put her on a stretcher with portable O2 and sent her in the ambulance with her midwife. I was ok until I heard the supervisor praying out loud for the baby. That particular supervisor is usually pretty calm in emergencies. I got one last round of vitals and we endorsed to the next shift and prayed with them.</div>
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I was hoping to have a little time to sit down and breathe between the end of shift and the start of class at 2:30 but they almost started without me. It was the practical class/test for IV insertion. I had inserted one successfully once before. This time it took me two tries. I also volunteered my veins for classmates to try on. I was poked three times but never successfully which made it much more painful. About 4:00 I went home and ate a cup of ice cream. I went down the street to the other dorm to plan a health teaching with my friend there for the next morning before prenatals since it was our turn. I went back home, slept from 5:30-7:00, ate some more ice cream and left overs, youtubed a little and went to bed around 9.</div>
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Tuesday I arrived at the clinic a little earlier than usual for prenatals, about 7:15am, because we wanted to get ready for the health teaching. The midwives and staff did a devotion together. All the pregnant ladies who had check ups that day were supposed to arrive by 8:00. We then sang with them and someone did a short devotion/Bible teaching. Then it was time for the health teaching. I was quite proud of myself that day. I used to get very nervous whenever it was my turn but this time wasn't so bad and I think we did pretty well. It was on labor and delivery. We had several activities where we asked for volunteers to keep people's attention. I tried not to get annoyed at our translators who kept adding things. They were quite true and good to say but they took up a lot of time and I wasn't able to say all I was supposed to.</div>
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On a prenatal day I usually get in 5-6 ladies and finish by noon. There are always one or two that stick in my mind. That day, I remember, there was a 17 year old girl who had her two year old daughter with her. She had had that little girl, one miscarriage, and now she was pregnant with this baby. I remember her mostly because she seamed to be a very very good mom. When we were done there wasn't time for me to go home to get food because I had a class at 1 so I walked down the street and got some siopao which is like a rice bun with meat in it. Back at the clinic, class was on family planning. We had already studied most of the methods so we finished the last few and then talked about how to counsel clients as to which one might be best for them. We also discussed our different beliefs about what the Bible says about family planning. After that a couple of the girls were going to print their family planning assignment and I went along to print mine too since it was due on Thursday. We had to go to the print shops across from the local high school and pay a few pesos to print from a USB drive. We decided to get fried bananas on the way home. Honestly I don't remember what I did the rest of the day. It was probably almost supper time by that time and I made myself supper. My friends and I might have also quizzed each other in preparation for the two tests coming up.</div>
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Wednesday in the morning I went to the store and got myself more soap and shampoo and other necessary things. I heard that my friend had been at the clinic since 2am with a continuity patient (just means she decided to be her midwife the whole way through), when she wasn't home at noon I texted asking if she needed food. She did. I prepared for swing shift, packing my scrubs, my supper, Doppler, thermometer, etc. and went over early to take her food. She was sleeping in the empty prenatal room and another friend was watching IV videos getting ready for the test so I watched them with her until shift started at 2. That day I had two postpartum patients. One was completely fine and one needed a lot more help breastfeeding than I knew how to give. Her baby was just super sleepy and didn't like to open his little mouth. Thankfully there was a senior midwife on shift who was able to spend a lot of time with her. I learned several things watching her. That patient had a white husband which is something I've only seen at the clinic a few times.</div>
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I assisted with my first shoulder dystocia that day. That's when the baby's shoulders get stuck behind the pubic bone and it is quite scary. It lasted 1minute and 40sec. I feel like I was actually useful for which I was glad but I was also very glad I was not in charge and able to just follow instructions. The baby was blue and a little bit floppy when he came out but it didn't take him long to come around. After that birth and another labor was given to another midwife I was next in line to catch. When my labor walked in she looked quite active. When we checked her chart she was only 35 weeks and 4 days. Five weeks early. We had to transfer her to the ER at the hospital. I took vitals and filled out papers as quickly as I could. She was in too much pain to lay down very long so I just measured her belly laying down and did the rest with her standing. She was handling it so well I really wished I could do labor watch for her. In the ambulance on the way over I read more of her chart. She was 20 years old, same as me. She had had two previous babies, both born at 7 months and both died within a few days. Her mother who was with her asked me if there was a medicine they would give at the hospital to make the labor stop. I had to truthfully answer that I didn't know. I asked if I could pray for them there in the ambulance and they said sure. At the ER I gave the doctor the referral form, she shortly asked where the paper was for her to sign and I handed it over. I felt like crying on the way back to the clinic. That government hospital is so understaffed and overworked and I knew her mom would not be allowed to go with her for anything. I could write a whole email about all the problems with the government hospital.</div>
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Thursday morning (yesterday) I decided to visit the girl I had transported. I walked to the clinic to get her a Visayan Bible and baby outfit, realized I had not written her in the correct book the night before and forgot her name. Thankfully I found it and fixed it. I took a taxi to the hospital. They said at the information desk that she was there but I couldn't visit until 9:00. After a while of waiting at the 7eleven across the street, I went back at 9 and they let me in. It took forever to find her. The first place told me several other places to try without even looking to see if she was in that room. The delivery room said she wasn't even on record. A couple other places had no idea either. For a while I wandered around trying to decide who to ask and where to go. I watched the doctor doing her "rounds." The way she did this was to call over the intercom the names of 25 or so babies and their mother and have them line up along the front of the room. She had six of them in front lay their babies lined up on a table in the corner and asked, "Kusog nagdidi tanan?" (Are they all breastfeeding well?) then she put her nose to the belly of each one to smell for infection of the cord. She flipped through each one's chart and said a couple of things to each parent and sent them back to the bed. It sounds cruel and maybe it was but if you could have seen how many babies were there with only one doctor you could see how stretched she was.</div>
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I decided it was really no use trying to find my girl and started back home. I didn't get too far though because I really felt like I should find her so I went back to the first room and politely insisted that they look. Sure enough, she was there. She had had her baby. She looked so tired. She said she had seen the baby for a few minutes and then they took him to the neonate room for observation. They hadn't told her anything about the likelihood of survival or any management they would give. She had not even been allowed to start breastfeeding. All around her were moms with babies, two to a bed. Her husband was allowed to be there and bring her food and things. There was no way she could sleep with all the noise and lights and not really enough room to stretch out. I gave her the Bible and signed it, she seamed to like that, and the baby onesie which I'm sure was way too big for her little girl. I prayed for her and cut my visit short because she had to go stand in line at the insurance desk. She walked over leaning on her husband and I could tell it was really painful. She told me she had been sutured. I know they almost always cut ladies there and it made me so mad because with proper technique she shouldn't even have torn naturally with such a small baby.</div>
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I walked the 30min home and maybe shouldn't have because my friend later noticed I got a little sun burnt. There were a few girls quizzing each other on IVs and family planning in the living room and I joined them for a while, then I fell asleep on the couch until someone woke me up saying it was time to go take the two tests. I grabbed a piece of bread with peanut butter for lunch and my assignment to hand in and walked with them to the clinic. I think I did ok on the tests but it will be a while before they are all graded. When we got home one of the girls declared that she was going to see "Jason Borne" in the theater and invited anyone else along. She said she wished she had seen the ones before it. I said I had them on my computer so we watched one. Three of us went over to the mall and got some McDonalds and some local food for supper to celebrate the finished test. Then we sat talking until the movie started. After the movie we walked home in a light rain. And we were very happy because Filipinos hate rain and we had all the roads to ourselves with no cat calls and no one staring at us.</div>
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Today was an around-the-house kind of day. I did my laundry, encouraged my friend that she CAN finish her assignment, washed dishes, made some rice pudding to try to use up all the rice that our Filippina cook likes to make for us and wrote Grandma a letter. About 3:00 I had a patient come for a check up with her baby so I walked to the clinic and did her check up. There was a baby there whose mother had been transported for too much bleeding. We don't keep bottles around the clinic though we do keep frozen breast milk to give by syringe(without the needle) but it's better for a baby to actually breastfeed. I asked my baby check patient if she would be willing to nurse the baby and she was quite happy to do it.</div>
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Tomorrow my friend said she would go over to Roxas street with me to get henna designs on our feet. I have seen they are really pretty and last several weeks. It's nice to do something fun at the end of an assignment and test. Maybe I can also print some pictures for Grandma since she doesn't have internet and go to the post office to mail my letter. Sunday I'll have to go to church in the morning since I have swing shift in the afternoon and evening. Then Monday I will start the next assignment and it's back to hitting the books hard again. So that's my week. I hope you all had a good week too!</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-27934442659971924302016-07-07T04:26:00.000-04:002016-07-12T22:10:09.160-04:00Another Lesson on TrustIt keeps coming back, are you willing to trust God through anything? Will you believe that He is good even if experience tells you otherwise? Will you believe that He is in control? That He loves you and sees you?<br />
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This morning I've been thinking about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. If we didn't know the rest of the story, it would appear that God was too late. They desperately needed a miracle the moment they heard about the idol. But God did not give it. I'm sure that as they stood with hearts pounding listening to the music begin they were begging God to intervene. He could have easily had someone call them to the other room for some little reason at that moment. He could have reminded Nebuchadnezzar of the declaration Nebuchadnezzar himself had made about the true God of gods and Lord of lords not long before. He could have struck down that idol with a mighty wind.<br />
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These three men needed a miracle and did not get it. When they stood listening to the king's anger and were given a chance to respond, God could have changed the king's heart, could have given the men wise, persuasive words to talk themselves out of the situation. They needed a miracle as they were being bound and did not get it. But what did they answer the king?<br />
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"Even if our God does not save us, we will not bow down to the idol."<br />
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And so they were thrown in. God allowed them to be bound. He allowed those mighty men to grab them and throw them right into the middle of the fire. He didn't save them. Or did He?<br />
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We know the rest of the story. It is often told as a story of triumph. But I think we can take away some other lessons as well. Because we can't see the end of our story either. God often triumphs after it seams evil has already won. After they were thrown in the furnace. After God's son was killed. After Jonah was swallowed. After Daniel was thrown to the lions. After Esther's husband had given the un-reversable order to kill her people. After lazarus had died. When it is all over. That's when He triumphs. And it brings him greater glory.<br />
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God will always win. What he asks is whether you will trust him -- even if he doesn't. After he has "lost." We are so often tempted to say what Mary and Martha said, "Lord, if only you had been here, my brother had not died." If only you would give the miracle before it's over! If only you would save us now! It's almost too late! Please! Sometimes he does, but so often He doesn't. He asks if we will have the faith of Abraham. Abraham believed that God would keep his promise of thousands of grandchildren through his son Isaac even if Isaac was dead. Even if.<br />
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For some people the triumph will not come until after they have died. Until the new heaven and new earth. But it will be <b>real. </b>And it will be amazing. Things will not just be finally liveable but the entire story will really be put to right.<br />
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These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth...wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:13, 16b<br />
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Daniel chapter 3<br />
Mathew chapter 27-28<br />
The book of Jonah<br />
Daniel chapter 6<br />
The book of Esther<br />
John Chapter 11<br />
Hebrews 11:17-19<br />
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXMPNXXnCls<br />
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<b>"Trust in You"</b></div>
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Letting go of every single dream<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I lay each one down at Your feet <br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Every moment of my wandering<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Never changes what You see<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I’ve tried to win this war I confess<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />My hands are weary I need Your rest<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Mighty Warrior, King of the fight<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />No matter what I face, You’re by my side<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Truth is, You know what tomorrow brings <br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />There’s not a day ahead You have not seen<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />So, in all things be my life and breath<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I want what You want Lord and nothing less<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />You are my strength and comfort<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />You are my steady hand<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />You are my firm foundation; the rock on which I stand<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Your ways are always higher<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Your plans are always good<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />There’s not a place where I’ll go, You’ve not already stood<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust in You!<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust in You!<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I will trust in You!</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-68411741764018028632016-02-12T03:03:00.001-05:002016-02-12T03:03:57.779-05:00Sense of WonderDo you have a sense of wonder?<br />
Do you ever feel you do the same thing every day?<br />
Do you see the world as colorful?<br />
Are you ever excited about absolutely nothing?<br />
What percent of your time is spent thinking about fairness, duties, and the cold hard facts of life?<br />
Can you step back and see a bigger picture?<br />
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The truth is that there is great evil in this world. There is also great beauty. Sometimes...often...the evil hurts so much that the beauty does not seem important. There are problems that must be solved, guilt that must be dealt with. But what of Joy? Do you see the miracles?<br />
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If you can trust your guilt to God, believe he means it when he says that Jesus paid all, then you can go on to live vibrantly. If you can, <b><i>with thanksgiving</i></b>, let God know what it is you would like then he will give you the peace that is more than you can understand. (Philippians 4:6-7) That is what trust is you know - don't worry, just let God know and be thankful. This will set you free from the evil to enjoy the beauty.<br />
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I once heard a story of what would happen if the stars only appeared once every 1000 years. It went something like this;<br />
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If the stars only came out once every thousand years no one would sleep that night. The government would outlaw lights unless special permission was granted. Everyone would travel to a place that was guaranteed to not have clouds. As the first stars appeared there would be ooos and aaahhs. Everyone would marvel and be in raptures as the sky was filled. We would be so thankful that this amazing beauty, rarely seen, was ours to observe for an entire night. As the last star faded in the morning, we would wish again that it would happen every night.<br />
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When you look at the stars at night, how long do you stare? In the approximately twenty five thousand five hundred and fifty nights that you will see stars in your life time will you ever once appreciate it as much as you would if you only saw them once?<br />
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Can you see clean water today the way you would if you had just spent four months in the bush in Africa? Can you see your friends the way you would if they had just been cured from a fatal disease? What else could be taken from you that you have just never noticed? Notice it. Enjoy it with all your heart. Thank God for it. We are so blessed. Some people know this and some people don't. Do you know it? You can. At first it will seem that the little joys of life are too small and too few to live for but as you practice loving them to the full you will begin to see more of them, the miracle of each one, and the God behind the miracle. It's worth it.<br />
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I Hope You Dance</div>
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I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />May you never take one single breath for granted,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,</div>
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<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><i>Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,</i><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I hope you dance....I hope you dance.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Never settle for the path of least resistance<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making,</div>
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<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />When you come close to selling out reconsider,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I hope you dance....I hope you dance.<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,<br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance, <br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance. <br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" />Dance....I hope you dance.</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-47111661002411256752015-11-11T00:02:00.000-05:002015-11-11T00:26:47.814-05:00HomeI am a homebody. I enjoy going out and having a little adventure sometimes but mostly I like to be home. It's not that I'm scared or feel more secure at home, it's just that home is a pleasant place where I feel more energized and am able to function my best.<br />
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When I was younger, I spent the majority of my time, in fact most of it, at home. When I got my first job I was suddenly gone a much larger percentage of the time. I came to realize just how close I was to my family and just how much I loved every room in the house and every rock and tree on my mountain. I got a couple more jobs and started doing more things at church and eventually I was only home a few days a month and long enough to sleep every night. Then I moved to the Philippines and then I was in the mountains for a month with no contact whatsoever with my family.<br />
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My journey keeps taking me farther and farther away. And my heart hurts at each step and I grow more tired each time. Surprisingly, the move to the other side of the world was not the biggest step. The biggest was when I gradually began to realize that I had changed, and that even if I returned, I would not fit in. Not really.<br />
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Here in the Philippines there is no direct translation of 'home' so sometimes in English it gets translated literally as 'your place.' Every time someone asks 'do you have that in your place?' or 'when are you going to your place?' I'm not sure if they mean the dorm or the US. Where is my place?<br />
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But maybe I have gone even farther than that. The past few months I have taken to heart some things I already knew about life. There are things happening here that make me hate this world.<br />
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People say that when they visit a third world country their eyes are opened to just how much better we have it in the U.S. Mmm... no, I think these horrible things were happening there too. It's just that as the illusion of home fell away, I was able to see them more clearly. And they make me hate it. I never want to call any place home if it is on the same planet with all this pain and confusion. Everywhere I go I will feel far away in an unfriendly place.<br />
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In my heart 'home' has shifted from Aurora, WV to my final destination beyond the skies. It is a little hard because I am very tired and I know it will take longer to get there, but I am thankful because I know not everyone has that place and I know my home there is sure. My father will be waiting for me along with innumerable brothers and sisters. I will never again have to leave or say goodbye.<br />
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This World is not my Home I'm just a-passing through,</div>
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My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.</div>
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The angels beckon me from heaven's open door</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.</div>
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Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you</div>
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If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?</div>
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The angels beckon me from heaven's open door</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.</div>
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I have a loving savior up in glory land</div>
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I don't expect to stop until I with him stand</div>
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He's waiting now for me in heaven's open door</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.</div>
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Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you</div>
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If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?</div>
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The angels beckon me from heaven's open door</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.</div>
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Just up in glory land we'll live eternally</div>
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The saints on every hand are shouting victory</div>
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Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven's shore</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.</div>
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Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you</div>
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If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?</div>
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The angels beckon me from heaven's open door</div>
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And I can't feel at home in this world any more.<br />
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That is my place. For where your treasure is there your heart will be also.</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-31817051314541271992015-09-30T07:11:00.000-04:002015-09-30T07:27:48.452-04:00The Secret<br />
A few weeks ago four of us white ladies and a Filippina translator sat in a tiny dark kitchen of a tiny concrete house. The beautiful young mother in front of us was apologizing for not having snacks for us. "Pobre kaayo ko." (I am very poor.) and indeed, there on the floor lay a pile of cassava-the food of the very poor. She did not even have rice but maiz or the corn imitation of rice and a few three inch long dried fish for herself and her 7 children for supper.<br />
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However, as we listened to her it became clear that the money situation was not uppermost on her mind. There were harder, more important trials. Her husband had left and gone to the city with another woman. When he comes back sometimes he brings food but he also brings fighting and an STD that our hostess does not have money to get medicine for. She is afraid her children might catch it as she is still nursing the youngest and does not know enough about STDs to know if they can spread other ways. But the hardest trial by far is tsismis. Gossip. The entire village knows and they will not come close for fear of catching it. When she comes home late from her hand washing laundry business in the city the gossip just gets worse. So our dear Ate lives in that dark little house, afraid to walk down the street for the looks she will get.<br />
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She and her eldest son, who looks older than he is for all that is on his shoulders, both want to learn more about God because they have noticed that is the only way they have found peace. Because of the tsismis, though, and because her husband destroys any Bibles he finds, they cannot go to church or even learn in their home. And she asks, "Ngano man?" Why is it? Her faith is wobbling. What do I tell her? What would you tell her? I do not know.<br />
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Later my dear new Filippina friend and I lay on the floor of our bamboo house-on-stilts waiting for lunch to be served. She told me her story of how she became a Christian and some of the rejection that pierced her heart afterwards. I can still see her face and hear her tone of voice, "I love my family. I asked God, 'Do I have to hate my family just to follow you?' Even now, when I think that I will be in heaven and my family will be in hell, oh! my heart is hurt. I am still praying for them."<br />
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My mind kept turning. How does this girl still have all that bubbly joy and sense of humor and passion for God and drive to get the message out when her father yelled that she was no longer his and her mother fights and asks, "Don't you love me?" I see that she sacrifices much for them, yet more for the gospel. I see that she always wears the thin necklace that was the last gift her father gave her before he died and she does not really know if he was a Christian. I see that she loves everyone she comes across with the love of a true friend. She loves to joke about everything funny and make up new words for existing songs and laugh at our poor attempts at Visayan. What is her secret?<br />
<br />
The next day we visit the house of a girl who knows a surprising amount about Christianity for being in this unreached village. She loves her Bible and asks many questions. We share the gospel and ask if she has decided to follow Jesus and only Jesus. Then the fear comes out. She knows several people who became Christians and she watched the trials begin. Her husband is not a Christian. She knows about the social persecution and she tells of one man who was struck by lightning and killed just after he got saved. She is too afraid to choose Jesus. What do we tell her?<br />
<br />
We meet the young widow of the man who was killed by lightning. She sits quietly in a hammock and smiles sadly at us. She has three tiny children and is a Christian but her elderly parents who she is now living with are not. I also start to wonder why. What do I tell them? I know the frustration of not having questions answered. I know the pain and fear that can tear at your soul, though perhaps not on as deep a level as these ladies.<br />
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At the next house the gossip story surfaces again. This lady's husband is home and actually supportive which is rare. The couple wants to go to church but everyone there knows secrets about their lives and they are afraid of what people will say. I strain to understand any Visayan I can. My Filippina friend who had shared her story earlier is saying something. I catch the words "Mga mata.... Jesus.... mga mata.... mga tawo." And I suddenly understand. I could kick myself for not remembering. It is the story of Peter drowning in the waves.<br />
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Drowning in fear. Shame. Grief. Loneliness. Things that wrench your heart and tear your soul. Unreasonable. Unfair. Always there. Can anything get a person through weeks and years of this? Is it possible to flourish? But this is what Jesus went through for us. The cross was unfair, shameful, and lonely. When we look at God we can see his love, wisdom, holiness and power and we can trust Him. If we look at the waves like Peter did, all logical sense tells us that it is not possible to walk on them. But when we look at God we see He is so big, so much bigger than we can comprehend and when we know that we belong to Him something happens to us and suddenly we find ourselves dancing on the waves.<br />
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In the words of my friend, "We are only human and sometimes we forget but that is the way."<br />
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Wise men and philosophers, elders and professionals in suits and everyone on Facebook is looking. King Solomon, Dr. so and so, explorers and prophets down through the ages. They are all looking for the secret to life. Many articles have been written claiming they know it but many contradict each other. This past month I, a 19 year old girl from nowhere, discovered the truth in the mountains of the Philippines from people the world will never hear about.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-68842409552055294002015-07-23T00:51:00.001-04:002015-07-23T00:51:24.275-04:00My favorite things to watch when I am feeling homesick or just need to wind down<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_umeCKLIU8">Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening</a><br />
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Sometimes I just like to write this one slowly in my best cursive and it takes me home to my woods behind our house when everything is deathly still and so silent that time also stands still. It is there in the semi-darkness that I can hear Jesus' voice best and see his white masterpiece of beauty painted on everything.<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">Those woods are lovely, dark and deep,</span><br />
But I have promises to keep,<br />
And miles to go before I sleep,<br />
And miles to go before I sleep.<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUaQgRiJukA">The Road Not Taken</a><br />
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This one I like because of the Fall leaves and because Jesus' straight and narrow path is the road not generally taken yet it is the one I chose. And that has made all the difference.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-37085647149525241812015-07-14T00:26:00.000-04:002015-07-14T00:26:32.543-04:00Helpful Cebuano ResourcesTo learn Cebuano, you really need a teacher because grammar is just not found online or in books. Plus, it is not primarily a written language it is a spoken language. It is evolving and every place that speaks it speaks differently. However, there are some resources online that can help with homework etc. These are the ones I have found helpful.<br />
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZYgXfpumbc&list=PL2nozFdLCY5Yi8teb0YgbnHLIK91cRkdT">a youtube vocabulary builder</a><br />
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<a href="https://docs.google.com/viewer?a=v&pid=sites&srcid=ZGVmYXVsdGRvbWFpbnxwaW5veWRpY3Rpb25hcnl8Z3g6NjBhMDdkNzM1OTBhMjU5ZA">affixes document</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.binisaya.com/">English/Cebuano dictionary online</a><br />
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This site is awesome for drilling yourself in anything. You can type in your own questions or vocab or anything. I highly recommend it. You can also search 'Cebuano' and copy other people's lists;<br />
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<a href="http://quizlet.com/">quizlet.com</a><br />
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This blog I have not looked at much but it could be helpful;<br />
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<a href="http://learncebuano.com/category/vocab/">http://learncebuano.com/category/vocab/</a><br />
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Hope it helps!Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-86864430717474732272015-07-12T07:39:00.000-04:002015-07-12T07:39:08.303-04:00Happiness Growing up and especially through my teenage years, I, of course, thought about what I wanted to do when I was old enough. For a long time, it seemed irrelevant because it was so far off. I felt like it wouldn't actually happen. Then, when It did, I suddenly had to decide what to do. There are so many paths to take, so many people who think their bandwagon is the right one. How does one know?<br />
<br />
As a Christian who has been given eternal life, living in one of the richest countries in the world, I felt that I should give back some of what I had, to God and 'the least of these,' His brothers. I wanted to do His will. Slowly I learned to recognize God's voice and to just step out in faith. I decided on this mission clinic because I know from being God's friend and knowing his heart that what the people here do is important to Him. I had peace and a goal to work towards.<br />
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After I had objectively decided what to do after high school, a few weeks before I left, I started seeing all the things I could have chosen. Now that I wasn't being bombarded with ideas and a sense of duty, I saw what I liked.<br />
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I have always wanted to get married, ever since I can remember. Really bad. I have tried to give up that desire because the reality is that I am not married and even if I get married later on, wishing for it now is just a waste of time. I want to be content. But I am scared of being an old maid. I feel for that prophet's daughter who went out into the hills to mourn because she knew she would die single. Getting married at 30 seems almost as bad. But, married or not, there are things I would have enjoyed if I had stayed in the states.<br />
<br />
A year or so out of high school, I could have gotten a little house all my own and some chickens. I could have taken my sister to hike the Appalachian trail. I could have gone to our friend's civil war balls and learned how to dance. I could have gotten more involved with church activities and the youth group. I could have stayed within visiting distance of my family. I could have found all the Christian/Homeschool gatherings in the states and taken my siblings to them. I could have traveled but always come back after a month or so. I could have learned to play the piano. I might even have met someone not too far off down the road.<br />
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But I am here. Stuck for three years. And I love it. But I still really want all that. Very badly. So I told myself, three years is not that long, just do all of that when you get back. And God allowed me to think that for awhile. But recently I began to wonder, what will I do if God calls me somewhere else after this? The same as He called me here. After all, this is a mission school. He might want to use my training for more than a few months overseas every couple years. What if that place, too, is far from family and fun? What if it is a dangerous country? And what, (oh dear) if I never get married?<br />
<br />
Then God asked me, "Can you trust me with your happiness?" That is a huge question. Happiness is something very close to my heart. That is almost as big as trusting him with the salvation of my soul. Could you trust someone else with your happiness? It is hard to answer when I look at myself and my life but when I look at Him, I know him so well that I know the answer is yes. He is trustworthy.<br />
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It is frustrating to try to lay down the desire for a husband because it is a God-given part of me. But I think this is what my dad meant when he talked about one season of his own life, "If it is just you and God, would that be ok?" "Can you trust Him with your happiness?" It is freeing to say yes. Truly, the more you try to take control, the more bound you become. "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it." Thinking about it now, I know I would not be really happy any other way anyway. "In thy presence is fullness of joy."Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-47635450819713458372015-07-05T06:38:00.001-04:002015-07-12T02:37:35.940-04:00DancingLet them praise his name in the dance:<br />
let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp.<br />
Psalm 139:3<br />
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Lately I've been thinking about how much a Christian's walk with the Lord is like a dance. He leads, I follow. Sometimes He does more, sometimes he asks me to do more. It takes hard work to learn each part. And it should always be joyful.<br />
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I'm learning to dance.</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-22985171251692035612015-07-05T05:34:00.002-04:002015-07-05T05:34:48.870-04:00Stepping out in FaithI am now going do discus one of the deep truths of missionary life in the Philippines. It's actually more like a skill that every single one of the girls here has to learn or die trying.<br />
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Crossing a Philippine street.<br />
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I always feel like one of the Israelite priests standing on the edge of the Jordan river looking at the raging water and swirling currants.<br />
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"What? I'm supposed to jump in?"<br />
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And jump in I do and so far God has gotten me across every time, though I did notice some glares a couple of times when I did not see which way a car or motorcycle was headed.<br />
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Pedestrians do not have the right of way, nor do there seem to be any rules for the traffic. If there is a stop light, they stop on red but that is about it. If your vehicle can fit, have at it! I've never seen a stop sign here. Nor have I seen any accidents. Everything moves pretty slowly so that helps.<br />
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Ah, the joys of a strange country!</div>
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-5700185504921251322015-06-21T19:35:00.000-04:002015-06-21T19:36:47.322-04:00Why Me?<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-family: Helvetica;">
Sometimes I wonder how many people live in Africa and think how most of them have been effected, some profoundly, by all the wars and guerrilla attacks that tear through the continent. I think of all the tribes who live way back in the hills of South America and Australia and around the world who have to walk for days just to get water. </div>
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And I think, “Why me?” </div>
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I wonder and pray for all the girls in India who have been raped and then shamed for it. I think of all the Christians in China who are not free to worship openly and all the families through church history who have been persecuted for their faith. I take a nice, hot shower and think that no king in the Middle Ages or all the way back to the beginning of the world had such a shower. </div>
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And I think, “Why me?” </div>
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Why was I put in a wonderful family whose parents love each other, never yell, and never even thought about divorce? Why do we have 3-4 Bibles per person when so many others cannot read, don’t have the Bible in their language, and have never heard the gospel? So many people. Why was I chosen? Was I chosen? I don’t know. I am not perfect. I have filled whole pages of my diary with all my faults. Yet I have all these gifts. I have even been given eternal life while so many have searched in vain for the fountain of youth.</div>
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I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all. Ecclesiastes 9:10</div>
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It doesn’t seam fair. I don’t know what else to say about it besides I trust that God knows what He is doing.</div>
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I was always confused by the people who had something tragic happen like their daughter was killed in an accident and they asked, “Why me?” Yes, they need to grieve. Yes, it was a terrible thing. But why should you get any more favor than other people? The next time you want to ask, “Why me?” stop and ask, “Why is my daughter in the arms of Jesus while someone else’s daughter was kidnapped and sold?” “Why me?”</div>
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And be ye thankful. Colossians 3:15b</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-80024793402369483522015-05-08T17:39:00.001-04:002015-05-08T17:40:27.777-04:00My Favorite Recipe for Carob PowderI do not like carob.<br />
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It tastes bad.<br />
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It tries to mimic chocolate. (big offence)<br />
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In Medieval times, it was used for animal feed. I can see why.<br />
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So how can a recipe for carob be good? By using it up without having to eat it. This is a homemade dry shampoo. It has one part corn starch, which is what soaks up the hair oil and works really well. Just that would probably turn my hair whitish so I add about the same amount of carob powder. A makeup brush is nice to help apply it. I got the idea from <a href="http://wellnessmama.com/5047/dry-shampoo/">this lady's blog.</a> She also has a spray version that I have not tried yet:<br />
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DIY Wet/Dry Spray Shampoo for Light or Dark Hair<br />
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1 cup warm water<br />
1/4 cup arrowroot or cornstarch<br />
1/4 cup vodka, rubbing alcohol or witch hazel<br />
Essential oils or a spritz of your favorite perfume to scent<br />
What to do: Mix all ingredients in a small spray bottle and shake well. Shake before each use and spray on roots or oily parts of hair. Let dry and style as usual.<br />
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I'm at the age where my hair gets oily really fast. Since it's also really strait hair, the oil shows up pretty fast and it's not pretty. I've learned to wash my hair flipped over in the sink so I don't have to take a whole shower every time. A washing will last about 24 hours but sometimes I'm too busy or tired for that so this dry shampoo is nice to have. It's surprising how well it works.Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-2191429995911966322015-04-27T15:16:00.001-04:002015-04-27T15:17:06.471-04:00My Favorite Word of the DayFrancophile: a person who is fond of or greatly admires France or the French<br />
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<a href="http://www.howjsay.com/index.php?word=francophile&submit=Submit">howjsay francophile</a><br />
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Yep, it's a real word. Just came across it while researching an author for a book report. I am not necessarily a francophile but in this age of limited vocabulary, It's pretty cool that the word exists.<br />
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Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-28187907016641808172015-04-07T15:21:00.001-04:002015-04-28T16:59:50.557-04:00Philippines Picture Post II<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So what the missionary family does is the father goes to all the schools in the area and shows gospel films, then he also gives a talk and hands out bible story books. He has one of these film showings about 2-3 times per week. After they have been to all the schools in the area, the family moves to a different area. While I was there I helped them move to a town with more Muslims. Although 'evangelists' are not allowed into Muslim schools, a 'drug-prevention program' is so they found a drug-prevention video to show along with the gospel talk.</div>
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I heard that the house they were in when I got there was pretty rundown when they bought it. This sand the kids are playing with was left over from repairing the house.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIWcxkq4Qj6be7hafcopRzKBJuTcjNXHV2STRshWcr82R4y66BKB8qgzsFv2Ws7RNpTVn3QUUVrsKXuhrdHO5lQ4IXsnMglLMr20-JjpQW6zu9wBLbsRZ9xwBkXNmFTvsKSO67AfcvRZg/s1600/20150207_100543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIWcxkq4Qj6be7hafcopRzKBJuTcjNXHV2STRshWcr82R4y66BKB8qgzsFv2Ws7RNpTVn3QUUVrsKXuhrdHO5lQ4IXsnMglLMr20-JjpQW6zu9wBLbsRZ9xwBkXNmFTvsKSO67AfcvRZg/s1600/20150207_100543.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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The building materials are very different from here. There is a lot of bamboo and concrete. For roofs, they have tin or thatch like banana leaves.<br />
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These are some of my little friends who called me Ate Amy and who tried to teach me all 4-5 dialects at once. :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdy8bDMEWzw6fl8o7lMi-D81Mbiw9dIJRPQiDOwLpF6joMex2AiR1KzE9SbFv_Ndutr_qVC3PeKSMmn9HBW8BpaoI37_GBJwHwpxnOJH8qXwIK8RETsRTu8t5Ub987knkeLNkgU2lURs/s1600/20150210_181853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVdy8bDMEWzw6fl8o7lMi-D81Mbiw9dIJRPQiDOwLpF6joMex2AiR1KzE9SbFv_Ndutr_qVC3PeKSMmn9HBW8BpaoI37_GBJwHwpxnOJH8qXwIK8RETsRTu8t5Ub987knkeLNkgU2lURs/s1600/20150210_181853.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">The family got some new book shelves while I was there which made lots of excitement!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFdTJvKcVnTKcgG0hIFCcM_WnrTfUNuhzWwBIyma-9OywM5sl84GRlLLIM2LYKTJw-mxC8hXfLs24n4bus8Jtpa4Nl1Kq9YPjF87qqWXXKtS1NO0yp4RGOcV5LJvqefclWIB6f2QgByXw/s1600/20150213_141823.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFdTJvKcVnTKcgG0hIFCcM_WnrTfUNuhzWwBIyma-9OywM5sl84GRlLLIM2LYKTJw-mxC8hXfLs24n4bus8Jtpa4Nl1Kq9YPjF87qqWXXKtS1NO0yp4RGOcV5LJvqefclWIB6f2QgByXw/s1600/20150213_141823.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSl66GjzIPo1aC_4dCC-0GzRp2B1J66ViP6VtF7oPWOkh58OGJgf_T-NfHtHTdWfBGblZMqwUvr4dZu0iEHqsvZMz_0mMw1iVPyD27kVpYhEwgQXr9waT8MAfPiEafXox8EzmKO6-IMI8/s1600/20150213_141844.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSl66GjzIPo1aC_4dCC-0GzRp2B1J66ViP6VtF7oPWOkh58OGJgf_T-NfHtHTdWfBGblZMqwUvr4dZu0iEHqsvZMz_0mMw1iVPyD27kVpYhEwgQXr9waT8MAfPiEafXox8EzmKO6-IMI8/s1600/20150213_141844.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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They also got a missionary box from some friends in the states. That was even more exciting!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPS5QyJ1DE-t8uiIQXIhDBmHUKAwHyiruGP6dKn8opcJzhpBhoCpxVEDCy2WHMWMA2uv_2ycDJva-IPX111QVFWuWIQvFyC0vYjiQh5VNLdZ3RjEbuU32SDQM_8eZEk8C9ArTPj8RPX9c/s1600/20150215_162410.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPS5QyJ1DE-t8uiIQXIhDBmHUKAwHyiruGP6dKn8opcJzhpBhoCpxVEDCy2WHMWMA2uv_2ycDJva-IPX111QVFWuWIQvFyC0vYjiQh5VNLdZ3RjEbuU32SDQM_8eZEk8C9ArTPj8RPX9c/s1600/20150215_162410.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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We girls all made an excursion to the mall one Sunday after church. The girl I am standing with is older than me so I called her ate which means big sister. She thought it was funny that the tall white girl called her that.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKDKqb3GgH34ifb9uP5zSZNKr2EcBt_b61SBlQC3LCxKuIkjr2Ybk0c0ew8UwPzqVC3_iX3sFfrmMh3eNTRsHKFq4eR4L_TFu5p4PQl6c7PMwDOKuuTnmaoWn4CdvEGY-rC317TBQzAg/s1600/20150215_155843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKDKqb3GgH34ifb9uP5zSZNKr2EcBt_b61SBlQC3LCxKuIkjr2Ybk0c0ew8UwPzqVC3_iX3sFfrmMh3eNTRsHKFq4eR4L_TFu5p4PQl6c7PMwDOKuuTnmaoWn4CdvEGY-rC317TBQzAg/s1600/20150215_155843.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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These are the men's "suits" of the Philippines made from pineapple and banana leaf fiber.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMntE9dwgqh3k-99zCLPDzIyfbD6wK9EmQEK7yM6ZvWqNzIUFp6nHEm-8gM1y8SEn4BM2XNH9bEtfkTgE1AvXj2LNi_NeHvKd2hEmttPxuZ0vG4DQzx3w5XtqINPJfH1CDA_xt6_er0_w/s1600/20150215_155752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMntE9dwgqh3k-99zCLPDzIyfbD6wK9EmQEK7yM6ZvWqNzIUFp6nHEm-8gM1y8SEn4BM2XNH9bEtfkTgE1AvXj2LNi_NeHvKd2hEmttPxuZ0vG4DQzx3w5XtqINPJfH1CDA_xt6_er0_w/s1600/20150215_155752.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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This is the women's version also made from banana and pineapple leaves.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UgK6-wQuWn-3abcc_rQXnSm2cTLvWUE2Jqg17g2BCtSB-CtmXGBBimcCj5llVJEV0sbptfKXGpB2hf2lvI5lQX7oB1UVO-jQxrXxojilGZ5pF0bfMJ7It5iFCDLTSEit3oUnLV4ELx0/s1600/20150215_155853.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UgK6-wQuWn-3abcc_rQXnSm2cTLvWUE2Jqg17g2BCtSB-CtmXGBBimcCj5llVJEV0sbptfKXGpB2hf2lvI5lQX7oB1UVO-jQxrXxojilGZ5pF0bfMJ7It5iFCDLTSEit3oUnLV4ELx0/s1600/20150215_155853.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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I told my Ate that I could get my wedding dress in the Philippines. Now I just have to find the guy! :)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-M9CqZUkOpTx6yBz5yOLizSbOrS0BiaM7oza35uuu3S8CALwYFmndj31MXG35n4EnekYXOAmSYi59tQX2fTikDKSGYwXjverIe5My7PwQkTHmG2oQfR7gkGs1tgKi0_sP_OpTHxbRRGU/s1600/20150216_080633.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-M9CqZUkOpTx6yBz5yOLizSbOrS0BiaM7oza35uuu3S8CALwYFmndj31MXG35n4EnekYXOAmSYi59tQX2fTikDKSGYwXjverIe5My7PwQkTHmG2oQfR7gkGs1tgKi0_sP_OpTHxbRRGU/s1600/20150216_080633.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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The mountains were really lovely and reminded me of home. So did the corn fields.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrG_iOFt0lqgDxNbZJyRx7hK8Ytu7JtL0oxE-Dcw3RIeNbGwQql2tfyZnF0pZb9-pcak-p9C2ubI226IeKHhkuSjtRxp1oGopRVZGZLaNwulgoALFJ_MdWyNVYDVaPmUH6wS1cFBt1K0/s1600/20150216_081934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXrG_iOFt0lqgDxNbZJyRx7hK8Ytu7JtL0oxE-Dcw3RIeNbGwQql2tfyZnF0pZb9-pcak-p9C2ubI226IeKHhkuSjtRxp1oGopRVZGZLaNwulgoALFJ_MdWyNVYDVaPmUH6wS1cFBt1K0/s1600/20150216_081934.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Can you see the ocean way out there?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ51a1ew6XIt6nW0_tFbUPxFfPAXMMYZw-C-3zReeWuZ39hqLnPdxiVJ3r5ydOHfRQ56StEEGrCAzJcmj7f4Q_wauLjn-Ehd3X7GxntUdXOB9O66Pmb16gTNnuzJ7ijz7gFaXAlu53TQk/s1600/20150209_163926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ51a1ew6XIt6nW0_tFbUPxFfPAXMMYZw-C-3zReeWuZ39hqLnPdxiVJ3r5ydOHfRQ56StEEGrCAzJcmj7f4Q_wauLjn-Ehd3X7GxntUdXOB9O66Pmb16gTNnuzJ7ijz7gFaXAlu53TQk/s1600/20150209_163926.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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Of course, even the mountains were not exactly the same. Can you see the volcano in the background here? There were quite a few of them spread around.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AABM8pW5viEhiCUB9hdbKZxUaw7XyshJfvj8IZ_-TJ7vKQ/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428426000/0/2/2015-02-16%2013.30.00.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/B8VF7JcV77aGiNk4Not1vkqu2b9nt1vqexBkQ-u1FDU?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AABM8pW5viEhiCUB9hdbKZxUaw7XyshJfvj8IZ_-TJ7vKQ/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428426000/0/2/2015-02-16%2013.30.00.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/B8VF7JcV77aGiNk4Not1vkqu2b9nt1vqexBkQ-u1FDU?size=1024x768" width="180" /></a></div>
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And this, my friends was the first normal bathroom I saw in a couple weeks. It was at a McDonalds (that sold rice!)</div>
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<ul>
<li>It had a flip-down seat</li>
<li>It had toilet paper</li>
<li>It had a trash can</li>
<li>It was semi-clean</li>
<li>and even though it didn't work, it had a sink</li>
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Just had to take a picture.<br />
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<a href="https://photos-6.dropbox.com/t/2/AACPROwrm1g8bp6Y5VOkT9tBWMW077zrnjf12ovFpJs5aw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428429600/0/2/2015-02-16%2014.00.16.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/G7485VPRnaeseZR2q4NtG4aAn_NaE3KR_LriTe3yjP4?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-6.dropbox.com/t/2/AACPROwrm1g8bp6Y5VOkT9tBWMW077zrnjf12ovFpJs5aw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428429600/0/2/2015-02-16%2014.00.16.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/G7485VPRnaeseZR2q4NtG4aAn_NaE3KR_LriTe3yjP4?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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Air conditioned busses went from city to city. They were ice-cold. It was almost nice to get back into the heat.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AACOoHcaBUx5razWvcWz0FfjqpqjYXyefXmeVOqg2DHR0Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-16%2015.47.39.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/QDh2gQwoLMFjL0UFlAPRBkXidst66ljjl-NK8L6xYsI?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AACOoHcaBUx5razWvcWz0FfjqpqjYXyefXmeVOqg2DHR0Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-16%2015.47.39.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/QDh2gQwoLMFjL0UFlAPRBkXidst66ljjl-NK8L6xYsI?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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At the bus stops venders were everywhere. This lady saw me take the picture and I was immediatly offered all kinds of snacks by every vender in sight.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-5.dropbox.com/t/2/AADBOXOOoTGguJYVhnOrDBr41ldBPss3QHmDvASZSO-08w/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428426000/0/2/2015-02-15%2017.42.51.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/Drt1o9s51Ycw7amEa9GcAmGj0ThdfM7Nq5SZzBB9m3I?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-5.dropbox.com/t/2/AADBOXOOoTGguJYVhnOrDBr41ldBPss3QHmDvASZSO-08w/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428426000/0/2/2015-02-15%2017.42.51.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/Drt1o9s51Ycw7amEa9GcAmGj0ThdfM7Nq5SZzBB9m3I?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is another kind of trike that wasn't quite so popular.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AADGGCSJyZ4GDynIk_-LzPA2MHTzq7-X7eewBJrB3IgFGw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-17%2015.06.47.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/VWJZJ_4YfXfIRwpYE5voot9ciK52ZDn7OZ0m_3lgAQg?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AADGGCSJyZ4GDynIk_-LzPA2MHTzq7-X7eewBJrB3IgFGw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-17%2015.06.47.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/VWJZJ_4YfXfIRwpYE5voot9ciK52ZDn7OZ0m_3lgAQg?size=1024x768" width="180" /></a></div>
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This man came to the house one day selling raw honey strait from the comb.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AAA784w8IEwWQqJa7mhHbMjKFhwPaDI3f5vxUnxBLCkw6Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-18%2012.05.56.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/7G9UAxNAptnEBxxKa5x-jdgCixDqkHkZyKEoiJnP29Y?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AAA784w8IEwWQqJa7mhHbMjKFhwPaDI3f5vxUnxBLCkw6Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428436800/0/2/2015-02-18%2012.05.56.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/7G9UAxNAptnEBxxKa5x-jdgCixDqkHkZyKEoiJnP29Y?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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Since we were packing up to move everyone to the new house, there were lots of cardboard boxes which, I discovered, are a favorite toy for kids on the other side of the world too.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AACYubY6tUU5UzwEjsTE2W3vOQ7byxaXXiTFsgGfkshbOA/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-19%2008.20.42.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/HKh6Kxyg2iwwtGoYv-kJJUdDjR_wpbXsbI8hbHlboqg?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AACYubY6tUU5UzwEjsTE2W3vOQ7byxaXXiTFsgGfkshbOA/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-19%2008.20.42.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/HKh6Kxyg2iwwtGoYv-kJJUdDjR_wpbXsbI8hbHlboqg?size=1024x768" width="180" /></a></div>
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As we packed we encountered ants everywhere. I mean everywhere. Mostly they were normal black ants that just tickled but some were red ants that pinched or at least felt like it.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-3.dropbox.com/t/2/AAAZgWp6KBbDIj-GKNPdnTmztx9ulsCJT9IBs4AX0zO7Yg/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-21%2017.11.06.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/u89r6GxfM8R0oQT4IM-An_cJu80I11LB9T1SfXgNa4Q?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://photos-3.dropbox.com/t/2/AAAZgWp6KBbDIj-GKNPdnTmztx9ulsCJT9IBs4AX0zO7Yg/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-21%2017.11.06.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/u89r6GxfM8R0oQT4IM-An_cJu80I11LB9T1SfXgNa4Q?size=1024x768" width="180" /></a></div>
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Besides moving, I was able to help the family when some of the kids got fevers. I stayed in the hospital for awhile with the youngest to give the parents a break and fixed supper once or twice.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AACEBUwDOZeaoNCexEJr6a5ZDlwaVDFFN_A-lOd6mFkPrQ/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.19.51.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/3YwI3Wu3HF6G4qhEqxV-qlByNY16E5Uu54p_HX7mXuI?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AACEBUwDOZeaoNCexEJr6a5ZDlwaVDFFN_A-lOd6mFkPrQ/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.19.51.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/3YwI3Wu3HF6G4qhEqxV-qlByNY16E5Uu54p_HX7mXuI?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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One day the dad of the family paid some fishermen to take me and one of the kids for a 30min ride on their boat. That was lots of fun.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AACLsJByrPEG5UIgKt_MuLQSve8tO289O1iyjxhgbCL_Xw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.05.25.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/0uIOCLtRm-UmrQq427zrMV78cDWAz9ii0lR772hwcuY?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-4.dropbox.com/t/2/AACLsJByrPEG5UIgKt_MuLQSve8tO289O1iyjxhgbCL_Xw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.05.25.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/0uIOCLtRm-UmrQq427zrMV78cDWAz9ii0lR772hwcuY?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://photos-3.dropbox.com/t/2/AACQ_X8NLvXiFZiDISmMGqv-1RbPn4_BUPjug2pRFZmR0A/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.08.36.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/QN_OXtAh5S-p3zS8y82sBraBHuJIUmVb_za6zUKVduM?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-3.dropbox.com/t/2/AACQ_X8NLvXiFZiDISmMGqv-1RbPn4_BUPjug2pRFZmR0A/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2010.08.36.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/QN_OXtAh5S-p3zS8y82sBraBHuJIUmVb_za6zUKVduM?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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And the last picture for this long, jumbled post:</div>
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<a href="https://photos-6.dropbox.com/t/2/AADC4__Fyi6hPWB2QgXTRCJovCT_BhPTmEndBvswjh32_Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2015.40.31.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/D0CtZeBX-uHczJkl7yG-gQgGXojWmyDaWKOabeJz-Eg?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://photos-6.dropbox.com/t/2/AADC4__Fyi6hPWB2QgXTRCJovCT_BhPTmEndBvswjh32_Q/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-25%2015.40.31.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/D0CtZeBX-uHczJkl7yG-gQgGXojWmyDaWKOabeJz-Eg?size=1024x768" width="180" /></a></div>
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This is a phone that only cost $10. I could call all the way around the world with it for 1 peso (2 cents) per minute! The cheapest we could find to call from home was 12 cents/min. It wasn't that hard to hear either. I was impressed.</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-28894495014620150332015-04-05T13:40:00.001-04:002017-04-12T14:30:01.190-04:00Resurrection Sunday: My Favorite Holiday <div dir="ltr">
Early this morning, earlier even than when Mary and the other women went to the tomb on the first Easter, a new little baby was born. I did not arrive in time to witness the event but I did get to see the sweet, innocent little girl. She was a miracle and a glory to her creator. I hope she understands some day about all that Jesus did for her on her birthday. </div>
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As I was driving home, I was looking at the huge full moon. It lingered even as the sky got lighter. I've had this thought in the back of my mind for awhile but I could never materialize it. I have never been a good writer. The couple poems I tried flopped but this one I wanted to bring glory to God so I asked him to help me put it into words. If it's any good it's because of him. </div>
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Rose-Red</div>
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They say the moon is romantic,<br />
The love of my life gave me the moon.<br />
They say roses are for lovers,<br />
My beloved made me dozens.<br />
They say the ultimate love is to lay down your life,<br />
He died for me.<br />
And his blood dripped down.<br />
And the moon turned rose-red.</div>
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They say love songs are powerful,<br />
My God created music.<br />
They say birth is joyful,<br />
My Lord is the giver of life.<br />
They say no-one can defeat the grave,<br />
But Christ has the victory.<br />
And he gives it to me.<br />
And I have joy.</div>
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Happy Easter! </div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-22703152424093102892015-04-01T16:25:00.000-04:002015-04-07T15:41:21.896-04:00Philippines Picture PostAlright you guys, I know this has been a long time in coming. Sorry, there is a lot to do before I leave again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQM7jlbvRCLIWj3xPepM3khcov8BMSbKd63wNG9kebh90rgx_QuGMO8AoD1hw-EbUNxmEPImqXAx_pDbY3CE0VyJ0fJR77OYWEQ0Ipl-uxTpH23KK1TGHHG6d3Ti-tSWW1bl9ZD2UfDg/s1600/20150202_065215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWQM7jlbvRCLIWj3xPepM3khcov8BMSbKd63wNG9kebh90rgx_QuGMO8AoD1hw-EbUNxmEPImqXAx_pDbY3CE0VyJ0fJR77OYWEQ0Ipl-uxTpH23KK1TGHHG6d3Ti-tSWW1bl9ZD2UfDg/s1600/20150202_065215.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
The morning I left, everyone got up early to say bye. I left from Pittsburgh where I gave my coat to Mom and Papa :). I didn't need it in the Philippines.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFoqGi7JGoxLZTc-fg8kA0nC1K6CC-vqn9S0nsaDV30mMLtG48aSEWJmBOasMxbMMUpFcAT0UwCjjYykWkQxbOx0MpPFaPm9T7220Zx9fcA_mVuzvVjjykEIQWcqTsG6rlV6Bmrl4R2I/s1600/20150202_203219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFoqGi7JGoxLZTc-fg8kA0nC1K6CC-vqn9S0nsaDV30mMLtG48aSEWJmBOasMxbMMUpFcAT0UwCjjYykWkQxbOx0MpPFaPm9T7220Zx9fcA_mVuzvVjjykEIQWcqTsG6rlV6Bmrl4R2I/s1600/20150202_203219.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
When I got to LA, I expected the airport to be a little confusing. Was it ever! I barely made it to the gate on time. Before I got off the first plane though, I saw the plane I though I was going to take and took this picture. It was so close yet so hard to get to! :)<br />
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<a href="https://photos-1.dropbox.com/t/2/AABmnJUjR60B-FsyiwAiuQoFRWfmHolhDYCOT8O_Pm7r9w/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-04%2004.44.02.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/E8GzdqgdGbfukwfhzo7jRKr_tMeDrlF-nAMGuxGqPJc?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-1.dropbox.com/t/2/AABmnJUjR60B-FsyiwAiuQoFRWfmHolhDYCOT8O_Pm7r9w/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-04%2004.44.02.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/E8GzdqgdGbfukwfhzo7jRKr_tMeDrlF-nAMGuxGqPJc?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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The airport in Manila was warm and felt like the south seas if you paid attention.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgHXyHYG5rV3BQsUwtt-CgF7QHT7h2ORNysPSzlwF5tSHOYT0P_W0xxQyAnIZsUp6aju0VV2sJHhn-cD9Gcjaf_oCiROMXbA2y4xeqAL7slNzdwXq6imXVnMhHHBIEKodnH2xBRAhr7U/s1600/2015-02-02+18.31.56.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgHXyHYG5rV3BQsUwtt-CgF7QHT7h2ORNysPSzlwF5tSHOYT0P_W0xxQyAnIZsUp6aju0VV2sJHhn-cD9Gcjaf_oCiROMXbA2y4xeqAL7slNzdwXq6imXVnMhHHBIEKodnH2xBRAhr7U/s1600/2015-02-02+18.31.56.png" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtPV3un0zj1nqquAJ4Z9WPe0Ux1vWdpHtN2uy_cZKHTXHMQvQeUg1OmBwZnZw5EWhHM319M9hyphenhyphen6t-KPXNqmUN5ZRs6QtNZhKByezvMVa7C8V5RDPFG5lx0_HUyYw8a-AV4k2xMSlZMzM/s1600/2015-02-21+16.22.25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtPV3un0zj1nqquAJ4Z9WPe0Ux1vWdpHtN2uy_cZKHTXHMQvQeUg1OmBwZnZw5EWhHM319M9hyphenhyphen6t-KPXNqmUN5ZRs6QtNZhKByezvMVa7C8V5RDPFG5lx0_HUyYw8a-AV4k2xMSlZMzM/s1600/2015-02-21+16.22.25.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
This is the house of the missionary family I stayed with.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vK_Dj2hqTZPEYKSMI0CeyH9Udb2QJXidQXwcBdmozF-QXo8O783nfErIARtHlRlmuZQtXXemJT4nZMwkwsLlTOuHpjKbRaeQXvFIAt7LYqHNSor9VnP2sAPjWUHDi4_41ZX7tg3H_Iw/s1600/2015-02-21+16.21.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3vK_Dj2hqTZPEYKSMI0CeyH9Udb2QJXidQXwcBdmozF-QXo8O783nfErIARtHlRlmuZQtXXemJT4nZMwkwsLlTOuHpjKbRaeQXvFIAt7LYqHNSor9VnP2sAPjWUHDi4_41ZX7tg3H_Iw/s1600/2015-02-21+16.21.48.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
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Their truck that picked me up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGYdVOkTvRAE9qzDDkfRgL9FLgKWNgTnxfjzTvlWd-wMT9nD4xEg6R3gLazaIY7NOR4bqcvpupXTxM8H0opWLmom9Z57Ho42M-HwEk0MFrfqL2KYgvHGhRFSRXoqynWT50i2MX_Xp86w/s1600/20150204_135246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGYdVOkTvRAE9qzDDkfRgL9FLgKWNgTnxfjzTvlWd-wMT9nD4xEg6R3gLazaIY7NOR4bqcvpupXTxM8H0opWLmom9Z57Ho42M-HwEk0MFrfqL2KYgvHGhRFSRXoqynWT50i2MX_Xp86w/s1600/20150204_135246.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
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The 'park' across the street was an empty lot no one was using so the family cleaned it out, built a pavilion and used it as an all-purpose yard.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcndItqqIdwsjIK274x3JjwPR2I1sEKeBrSFSXvVtDZNVO9HGhV21ihnnoBSicnKhOFOw0NWli2-Ya53nEnZT6oWZ9V1dJkErgEjidIlU8uZ_mUxkiBw-BFphl5-yOuCrxfLxZPozENg8/s1600/20150204_134953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcndItqqIdwsjIK274x3JjwPR2I1sEKeBrSFSXvVtDZNVO9HGhV21ihnnoBSicnKhOFOw0NWli2-Ya53nEnZT6oWZ9V1dJkErgEjidIlU8uZ_mUxkiBw-BFphl5-yOuCrxfLxZPozENg8/s1600/20150204_134953.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
Everyone always had fans blowing if they could.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-tiB2u9_1v7HNTKoCDa5H0kAYzSlRacvvKpANGvrHt2FNHRbIMZ9m1nPdx1b70QgWWishIhRulRYk2xHS37IdWGg_xcAQ_ExDEpXKbkp6jQBo3Qo7HZ6xBOGOl2Fl6nR4-iQE9u2cfk/s1600/20150204_141743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-tiB2u9_1v7HNTKoCDa5H0kAYzSlRacvvKpANGvrHt2FNHRbIMZ9m1nPdx1b70QgWWishIhRulRYk2xHS37IdWGg_xcAQ_ExDEpXKbkp6jQBo3Qo7HZ6xBOGOl2Fl6nR4-iQE9u2cfk/s1600/20150204_141743.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
There was a coconut tree in the lot. Ate had a neighbor climb up and cut down some green nuts the first day I was there.<br />
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He cut them open with a machete and caught the coconut water.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv7L85ht1SmZ-l4UQtkmyQUDBMzee7vj0Q5jqMktz8MYH67qRFBee9x9dGETWjQjFbpwqxYip9NLALHlGNhuBZdWdDJj-vTuQ3-W4iYNtxEExMV2lSBY5yQ2t88FxM3LBwtQYX5oHsD0/s1600/20150204_143111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv7L85ht1SmZ-l4UQtkmyQUDBMzee7vj0Q5jqMktz8MYH67qRFBee9x9dGETWjQjFbpwqxYip9NLALHlGNhuBZdWdDJj-vTuQ3-W4iYNtxEExMV2lSBY5yQ2t88FxM3LBwtQYX5oHsD0/s1600/20150204_143111.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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This was my cupful.</div>
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Everyone grabbed a spoon and half a coconut and started scraping.<br />
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It was very moist and came off easily. They plopped the meat in with the water and added ice and condensed milk.<br />
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I've got to tell you guys, that first day I felt so sick. I really think it was a little heat stroke because of going from winter to hot, hot summer. When I took my first cool shower it was blissful. In the Philippines hardly anyone has a shower head. All the bathrooms have this bucket and scoop to pour the water over yourself.<br />
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Where I was, no one had toilet paper either. They all used water with a scoop. I think it was partly because there were so many Muslims in the area.<br />
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The next day I got to go to the outdoor market or palinki. It was as fun as I always imagined.<br />
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Some of the market was indoors.<br />
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Unfortunately it was the fish section. It did not help the smell any.</div>
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Did you know that the ink from squid is used as flavoring? It tastes a little like soy sauce.</div>
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Tricycles are the main mode of transportation. Not many people know how to drive a car. I saw a few jeepneys in Gen San but there are more in Davao.</div>
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<a href="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AABmr8QqkI3qpUwbcDAduf4kVXAgReiB1oyiFWlSDJ_Vbw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-15%2015.01.36.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/w1_sPbQI8Wsy2Z9g6sPOoLKKKe3_y_ySWso7-jKeews?size=1024x768" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://photos-2.dropbox.com/t/2/AABmr8QqkI3qpUwbcDAduf4kVXAgReiB1oyiFWlSDJ_Vbw/12/349518054/jpeg/32x32/3/1428440400/0/2/2015-02-15%2015.01.36.jpg/CObx1KYBIAEgAigBKAI/w1_sPbQI8Wsy2Z9g6sPOoLKKKe3_y_ySWso7-jKeews?size=1024x768" width="320" /></a></div>
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The jeepney is the small bus-thing in the back of this picture.</div>
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Here you can see the tricycle a little better. Filipinos really squish into them, and onto the top of motorcycles. I counted 10 of us in a trike once, although some of them were kids. The blue motorcycle behind it isn't attached. There are two short benches in the back like the one in the front only lengthwise.</div>
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A lot of my time was spent with the family's kids. We had lots of fun. The oldest girl here especially loved meeting another white girl. Her mom is Philippine but her daddy is white so she feels different from a lot of her friends.</div>
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It is strange being the only white girl around sometimes. Many people turn to look and definitely act different towards an Americano.</div>
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The house was quite open because it did not have air-conditioning. There were always three or four little lizards on the walls and several lines of ants going steadily up, down or across. Birds flew in and out too.</div>
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Most of the lizards were 3-4" long but there was a gecko that came out after a rain storm one evening. He was maybe 8" long.</div>
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Well, that's all for now. I've got lots more to show but it is for an upcoming post. Stay tuned!</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-2312017403801833562015-01-22T20:00:00.000-05:002015-01-22T20:01:01.120-05:00My Trip to Texas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My first plane trip and I have to say, I love it! customs and all! I'm glad to have had this experience before I go overseas. I wasn't sure whether I could navigate airports but now I know I can. I still hope that none of my flights get delayed when I have one scheduled right after.<br />
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De-icing the plane.<br />
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Above the clouds!</div>
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I was moved all over the place staying with anyone who had room. My first was a casita that the director kept as a guest house.</div>
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All ready for my first day at the clinic.<br />
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I took a walk down to Walmart the first chance I got to get food and a few other travel things.<br />
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Passed a bakery on the way and got a 'pan dulce.'<br />
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Got bolios which I had heard about from Papa and Mom's travels.<br />
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This is another place I stayed...<br />
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...and the view out the window. Those mountains are Mexican and some of the city there is Juarez.<br />
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Ciudad Juarez at night.<br />
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The library at the school.<br />
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The classroom where I got to sit in on a few classes.<br />
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Maternidad La Luz<br />
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The couch where I slept on my 24 hr shifts at the clinic.<br />
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The 'sala' (waiting room)<br />
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One of the birth rooms, also used for 'citas' (appointments) sometimes.<br />
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The kitchen<br />
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The "midwives' table". The students do much of the work and then the midwives check the bellys or anything the student has not learned sufficiently. Of course, they make most of the decisions and are always there at births. There is also a lot of paper work that happens at this table.</div>
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Another birth room<br />
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All of the students and staff speak some degree of both Spanish and English. Most clients are from Juarez and only speak Spanish.<br />
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I walked to a church the second Sunday and it was so good to see some other Christians again. These are some buildings I liked on the way.<br />
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Sunset over the Chihuahuan desert mountains in Mexico.<br />
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NNR class<br />
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Mom found it right near the school on Google street view and told me about it. I took a little walk and voila!<br />
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The map of El Paso at the airport<br />
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A Texas display at the airport<br />
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World Traveler! headed home!<br />
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I got to see 5 births and lots of pn & pp appointments. The students and midwives were very friendly and tried to show me really what the clinic and school were like. Over all, a great trip!<br />
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I think my Spanish skills were starting to come back by the time I left, though I'd need more time before I would be able to understand what people say like I used to.<br />
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good bye to the Chihuahuan desert<br />
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second plane from Dallas took off at sunset<br />
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I see snow! Flying in to Pittsburgh </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0wHJZzJ9ioNoLScq_Y0yQ1hE00DHhEQBE2UsJbxm7p9kw8ldkux4S8LBtVBwXRYir6UXiDXJFA5F8cTAdYHhfI52SJEGSNxV1kCuJ1h7uWv0buXve6os29neRKr2yU2CpcruHuL-43M/s1600/20150121_101806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ0wHJZzJ9ioNoLScq_Y0yQ1hE00DHhEQBE2UsJbxm7p9kw8ldkux4S8LBtVBwXRYir6UXiDXJFA5F8cTAdYHhfI52SJEGSNxV1kCuJ1h7uWv0buXve6os29neRKr2yU2CpcruHuL-43M/s1600/20150121_101806.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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My own bed with, no street light just outside, layers of fluffy blankets, and sisters in the same room! It's nice to be back home.</div>
Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4184051597832641056.post-37983186111809637222014-12-26T14:55:00.001-05:002014-12-26T14:55:47.221-05:00What will this year be like?<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wonder...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 23px;">What will my future be?</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;">I wonder...</span></div>
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It could be so exciting</div>
</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
To be out in the world</div>
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To be free</div>
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My heart should be wildly rejoicing</div>
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Oh whats the matter with me?</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 23px;"><div style="text-align: center;">
I've always longed for adventure</div>
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To do the things I've never dared</div>
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Now here I'm facing adventure</div>
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Then why am I so scared?</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H0F--6XvC5s">I Have Confidence</a>, from The Sound of Music</div>
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It's a good thing God is going with me.</div>
</span></span>Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11544362505586344700noreply@blogger.com0