Sunflowers

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Begging Along With My Friend

One 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.

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.

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.

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!

Baby Amy and I

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.

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!

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.

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.
SaveSave

Sa Presensya Mo

Thou wilt shew me the path of life:

In thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand 

there are pleasures for evermore. (Psalm 16:11)

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)

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.

Sa Presensya Mo (In Your Presence)

Labaw sa gipangandoy (the most to be desired)

Tanang gitinguha (everything I long for)

Namunga ni sa kasing-kasing ko (what is from my heart)

Ug sa Imong presensya, (your presence is)

lamang ko matagbaw (the only place I am satisfied)

Ug sa matag adlaw gitinguha (I long for it every day)

Sa presensya Mo may kaayohan (In your presence there is encouragement/prosper)

Sa presensya Mo kasigurohan (in your presence, security/shelter)

Sa presensya Mo adunay kalipay(in your presence there is joy/happiness)

Sa presensya Mo O Diyos (in your presence, oh God)

Sa presensya Mo O Diyos (in your presence, oh God)

Ako nagtinguha (I long to be)

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)

(click on the title of the song to hear a youtube version and learn a Visayan song)

Another Lesson on Trust

It 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?

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.

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?

"Even if our God does not save us, we will not bow down to the idol."

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?

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.

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.

For some people the triumph will not come until after they have died. Until the new heaven and new earth. But it will be real. And it will be amazing. Things will not just be finally liveable but the entire story will really be put to right.

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

Daniel chapter 3
Mathew chapter 27-28
The book of Jonah
Daniel chapter 6
The book of Esther
John Chapter 11
Hebrews 11:17-19

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vXMPNXXnCls

"Trust in You"

Letting go of every single dream
I lay each one down at Your feet 
Every moment of my wandering
Never changes what You see

I’ve tried to win this war I confess
My hands are weary I need Your rest
Mighty Warrior, King of the fight
No matter what I face, You’re by my side

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!

Truth is, You know what tomorrow brings 
There’s not a day ahead You have not seen
So, in all things be my life and breath
I want what You want Lord and nothing less

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!

You are my strength and comfort
You are my steady hand
You are my firm foundation; the rock on which I stand

Your ways are always higher
Your plans are always good
There’s not a place where I’ll go, You’ve not already stood

When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!

I will trust in You!
I will trust in You!
I will trust in You!

Sense of Wonder

Do you have a sense of wonder?
Do you ever feel you do the same thing every day?
Do you see the world as colorful?
Are you ever excited about absolutely nothing?
What percent of your time is spent thinking about fairness, duties, and the cold hard facts of life?
Can you step back and see a bigger picture?

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?

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, with thanksgiving, 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.

I once heard a story of what would happen if the stars only appeared once every 1000 years. It went something like this;

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.

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?

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.

I Hope You Dance

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances but they're worth taking,
Loving might be a mistake but it's worth making,

Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to selling out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance.

I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,  
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.  

Dance....I hope you dance.

Home

I 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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

This World is not my Home I'm just a-passing through,

My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue.

The angels beckon me from heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you

If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?

The angels beckon me from heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

I have a loving savior up in glory land

I don't expect to stop until I with him stand

He's waiting now for me in heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you

If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?

The angels beckon me from heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

Just up in glory land we'll live eternally

The saints on every hand are shouting victory

Their songs of sweetest praise drift back from heaven's shore

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

Oh Lord, you know I have no friend like you

If heaven's not my home then, Lord, what will I do?

The angels beckon me from heaven's open door

And I can't feel at home in this world any more.

That is my place. For where your treasure is there your heart will be also.

The Secret

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.

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.

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.

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."

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?

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?

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.

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.

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.

In the words of my friend, "We are only human and sometimes we forget but that is the way."

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.

My favorite things to watch when I am feeling homesick or just need to wind down

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

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.

Those woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

The Road Not Taken

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.

Happiness

 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?

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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."

Dancing

Let them praise his name in the dance:
let them sing praises unto him with the timbrel and harp.
Psalm 139:3

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.

I'm learning to dance.

Stepping out in Faith

I 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.

Crossing a Philippine street.

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.

"What? I'm supposed to jump in?"

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.

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.

Ah, the joys of a strange country!

Why Me?

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. 

And I think, “Why me?” 

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. 

And I think, “Why me?” 

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.

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

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.

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?”

And be ye thankful. Colossians 3:15b

Resurrection Sunday: My Favorite Holiday

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.

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.

Rose-Red

They say the moon is romantic,
The love of my life gave me the moon.
They say roses are for lovers,
My beloved made me dozens.
They say the ultimate love is to lay down your life,
He died for me.
And his blood dripped down.
And the moon turned rose-red.

They say love songs are powerful,
My God created music.
They say birth is joyful,
My Lord is the giver of life.
They say no-one can defeat the grave,
But Christ has the victory.
And he gives it to me.
And I have joy.

Happy Easter!

My Trip to Texas

 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.

 De-icing the plane.

Above the clouds!

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.

All ready for my first day at the clinic.

I took a walk down to Walmart the first chance I got to get food and a few other travel things.

Passed a bakery on the way and got a 'pan dulce.'

Got bolios which I had heard about from Papa and Mom's travels.

This is another place I stayed...

...and the view out the window. Those mountains are Mexican and some of the city there is Juarez.

Ciudad Juarez at night.

The library at the school.

The classroom where I got to sit in on a few classes.

Maternidad La Luz

The couch where I slept on my 24 hr shifts at the clinic.

The 'sala' (waiting room)

One of the birth rooms, also used for 'citas' (appointments) sometimes.

The kitchen

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.

Another birth room

All of the students and staff speak some degree of both Spanish and English. Most clients are from Juarez and only speak Spanish.

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.

Sunset over the Chihuahuan desert mountains in Mexico.

NNR class

Mom found it right near the school on Google street view and told me about it. I took a little walk and voila!

The map of El Paso at the airport

A Texas display at the airport

World Traveler! headed home!

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!

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.

good bye to the Chihuahuan desert

second plane from Dallas took off at sunset

I see snow! Flying in to Pittsburgh 

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.