ontology of emily

childish

2012-01-10T15:13:00.000-05:00

When I was a child I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a [woman], I put childish ways behind me.
(1 corinthians 13:11)

I think that I may have found my verse for the year. Lord willing, (and the Bible tells us that He is the one who gives us the desire and the ability to act -- see Philippians 2:12-13 below) this year will be one in which I will take bold steps of faith into growing up the childish patterns of speech, thoughts, and reasoning -- all of which lead to actions -- that have been cropping up more and more of late.
As 1 Cor 13:11 will be my mantra (written on my mirror in dry-erase marker as of today), the Israelites' taking of the Promised Land will be my point of reference and my reassurance of God's faithfulness. In Numbers 13 and 14, the people of God choose fear instead of faith and courage. God tells them to get up and go capture the land he is giving them, but they think it's impossible to beat the fearsome giants that inhabit the place. (Note: The result of their disobedience, that decision to disbelieve Him, were 40 years of wandering until the whole generation died out.)
But the trick is this: God was going with them! He already had the victory over those literal giants, and he already has the victory over my emotional and spiritual giants today! So, if he's inviting me to go up and fight against them, I'm in!

Later, in the book of Joshua, the Israelites chose to believe and act upon that faith. The result was that they defeated the cities and people groups exactly as God said they would, when they followed his instructions to a T. This year, I don't know what the strategy is, I don't know what He'll ask of me, but I know that I choose to believe, because my God is Bigger!

"Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose." Phil. 2:12-13

twenty-twelve

2012-01-05T17:48:00.000-05:00

Another new year!

I'm pleased to say that I am becoming more of a "new years" person... I was able to enjoy a nice dinner with "family" and friends here in Colombia, and I didn't give in to the urge to sleep at ten o'clock. The night was gorgeous, with a clear, starry sky that we enjoyed looking at as we all stood around a bonfire talking, laughing, and praying for the new things that God has for the coming year.

There are Big Things on the horizon for 2012, friends. I'm still not sure what that will look like, but it's exciting, and I want to continue learning to live in the present and enjoy each moment.

In sad news, another kitten died. She got really sick with diarreah and her eyes were all gunky. After several days like that, she couldn't make it anymore! I took the remaining two to the vet today, where I bought some eye drops and got them de-parasited. Hopefully that will help their immune system get stronger and they will be able to grow big and healthy! (And hopefully their adoptive families will receive them SOON, because I'm tired of all the mess in the laundry room, and I want my cat back to normal again!)

I don't feel like I have much to write, honestly... is this some sort of writer's block? Patience, perseverance, living each day... is this part of the new "season" I've entered, where the changes are less dramatic? Even though I see big changes on the horizon, I think it may be a slow dawn, taking her time to revel in shades of gray and pale gold. May I (and you) learn to revel in the first light as well.

seasons

2011-12-18T21:15:00.000-05:00

Since February of 2009, when I moved to Bogota, I have missed the Seasons more than many other things in North Carolina. The changing weather -- from a wet, bone-deep chill to start off the year, in NC the daffodils, forsythia, quince, and the dogwoods' white blossoms appear to lighten the naked forest. After that, the trees bud into leaves, and those leaves deepen their green as the springy dampness evaporates and hangs, dense, in the air. After breathing 98% humidity during those summer months, the leaves begin to fade from vibrant green to gold, bronze, leather, pumpkin, and crimson hues. The air changes, abandons that heavy feel for crisp freshness and the excitement of autumnal expectation. The forest loses half her cloak as the deciduous sisters fall asleep. There may be snow - or just freezing rain - coating branches and stopping vehicles. We spend time inside, ideally by a fireplace; our diet changes too, from fresh produce to stews and hot drinks.

Yet, as other Carolinians breathe in the changes every few months, I live in a static, 12-month season. The Rolos (Bogota natives) say that here you can get all four seasons in one day. While it's true that the weather changes suddenly from hot and sunny to chilly and rainy, or anything in between, the air quality and the flora stay consistent. I miss my seasons.

As we close out 2011, I am naturally thinking of what 2012 will bring: what to expect, what to plan, what to attempt.
I expect and plan to continue in Kiwi House, with Formando Vidas. I find myself wondering if I should (watch out for that sense of obligation!) change anything, implement something new, set new goals with the kids or carry out new projects. Surely something should be different? Am I okay if not? Does God approve of what I'm doing, or doesn't he want something different?

Why am I feeling this pressure to change something?
The answer, I believe, lies in SEASONS.

I realized, today, that I may be entering into a new season of life, and that's why I feel a little unsettled.
From 1990 to 2003 (13 years!), I lived in the seasons of school - every year there was a new grade level, new classes, and new friends.
From then until 2007 (4 years), I changed even more frequently -- every six months there were new college classes, and every year I moved in and out of a dorm or an apartment.
For almost 2 years after that, I continued moving residences, as I worked two jobs. My main job was at a community college, which meant that three times a year I changed classes and students, experiencing the varying challenges of teaching and also of waiting tables!
Then, I came to Colombia for 1 year. (Intentionally understated, because that involved too many changes for a blog post dedicated to another topic!)
After my first year here, I went to do a DTS with YWAM -- a 6 month commitment that involved more moves and new people and challenges.
Now, I've been back for almost 1 1/2 years here, and I think I am so accustomed to yearly (or more frequent) changes that it has almost become a neccesity!

A friend of mine wrote me the other day, in a way that really encouraged me, as I was experiencing this doubt or unsettled feeling of needing to change something, yet not seeing what it could be.

...God has put that passion in your heart for [the kids]; He has filled you with an extraordinary love. Don't get discouraged if others don't have the same passion that you do... sometimes the dreams that God gives us are so strong that we can only understand them in our souls.
God has seen your perseverance; don't grow faint. You have planted, invested in the Kingdom of Heaven and I know that that seed will produce eternal fruit. You have been God's hands in the lives of each one of them: hands that give love, hands that accompany, hands that build lives and don't tear them down. Emily, I keep praying for your life, that nobody and nothing will take you out of God's purposes for you...

What words of encouragement and blessing! She didn't know that I was questioning the coming year, and what it SHOULD look like, yet she told me to "keep on keeping on."

I will press on, although I do not know what the future will be like, nor what it "should" be like. God has not directed me anywhere other than Kiwi House, Formando Vidas, Colombia. This new "season" calls for Perseverance Beyond the Short-Term.

Kittens!

2011-12-03T21:54:00.000-05:00

TabbyCat gave birth to these little creatures on November 20th.

They're pretty cute, even if they do resemble small rats. We think there are two girls and two boys, based on comparing the calico's "intimate parts" with the others (since calico cats are always female). I have two (maybe three) homes for kittens so far.

She's a good mommy cat, but is getting restless of being enclosed so much. We mostly have her shut into the laundry room because every time she comes out into the main part of the house, one of the first things she does is jump up on the table and countertops and eat whatever food she finds there. (She's eating a ton anyways... I suppose that producing milk for four growing "rats" will give you quite an appetite!)
She's also pooping way more than normal, and has some serious diarrea, and apparent sphincter-control problems (translation: drops of poo all over the laundry room floor and wall, not just in her box). Does anyone know if this is normal for post-partum mammals? (Feel free to share your own experience, ha ha.)
I don't want her to be outside much, because she can actually go into heat and get preggo again before the kittens are weaned and adopted out! After they're gone, I think she will become an almost-exclusively outdoor kitty, just coming in at night to get some attention and warmth (who am I kidding... my house has no heating).

Tabby has started bringing the babies out for some quality time. It's weird. She brings them out one by one to sit in her favorite chair while they do what they do best: drink milk and sleep. This picture is from the first time she did it, and surprised me and Bibi when she showed up with the runt in her mouth.

Trust me! (but not too much)

2011-11-22T21:56:00.001-05:00

I believe that we each have our personal "recurring themes" in life, and with God. I don't know what yours are. One of mine is "trust others - but not too much."

No one is an island, a fact that I readily accept -- I'm a rather social creature -- and yet I struggle in certain aspects of really trusting others. (don't we all?) This includes God. Even though, looking over the course of my 26 years, I can see that my Creator has been faithful, more often than not I have to consciously remind myself to TRUST HIM!
So, as He invites me again, and again, and again, and again ("to infinity and beyond!" grin the little boy's Buzz Lightyear slippers cast aside on the floor) to put my hope in him alone, to not rely on human beings nor place my confidence in their plans, I get to choose in whom I will place my trust: myself, others, or God?
The problem has been that I am too trusting, actually. And not in simple matters of believing what someone says, or being a casual friend – my grave tendency has been to put my trust in a human being in the deepest sense of the word, in the sense that the psalms use with the words "hope, trust, confide, wait." I have all too often given others a place that only God can (and should) hold. The result is disastrous, and yet my temptation is always to do it again!

I have struggled against this for so long, in fact, that now I am actually starting to learn to stop it earlier and not let it run its full course! While this is great news, it means that now deeper friendships get more complicated from the beginning! How do I keep myself in check, and keep friendships in balance? I know that God always wants first place, and deserves it; it is His. But how do I know when He is actually inviting me to open up to someone new? And how do I keep the balance of: God in that deep place of "trust, hope, wait," and friends on a different level? Especially when it is a friendship that I feel that God is bringing along...
And, on the flip side: as difficult as it is to 'hang the weight of my soul' on the One who has never let me down, how am I supposed to really trust another human being, when every one of them has the potential to hurt me?! [Just as I am extremely adept at injuring others, whether unintentionally or not! Yet, I love me!, and expect the understanding and forgiveness that I "deserve"!]

So, here are some verses that He's brought to mind as I'm processing this stuff:

1 John 4:18 "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

Psalm 62:2 "Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken." (See also: Psalms 130 and 131)

Isaiah 33:6 "He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure."

Based on these scriptures, and my experiences with God, I feel that these are His invitations to me in this area:
1. Believe, and receive, His love.
2. Choose, daily, to cling to the Unshakeable Rock, and to none other, as my source and the one who is always trustworthy.
3. Walk in the fear of the Lord -- respecting and honoring Him above all other desires or ideas -- and let Him perfect me in love as He teaches me to trust others.

Holiday moods

2011-11-14T16:01:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I decided to break my own rules and start listening to Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Some would argue that I actually listen to Christmas music year-round, but I generally try to restrain myself (the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack is technically jazz, and is great background music).
It happened like this: We arrived back to the house after the parent visit, at which we made plans for next month's year-end visit, Christmas party, and lunch. We were all in good spirits, and I said to Bibi that I wanted Christmas music, even though Thanksgiving isn't for another eleven days. So, she put it on and of course the topic of the holidays came up -- the decorations, the food, the outings to see the lights, opening presents. The older girls were in the room and we were all talking about Christmas, when I started feeling attacked or ridiculed for some things we did or didn't do last year. Like having a live tree that we cut down on the farm, which (for me) was very special but for the girls wasn't as pretty because it wasn't a perfect cone-shape (and, since we don't have a proper tree stand, it dried out, even though we tried to keep it watered). And the fact that we all decided (the girls included) to open presents on the morning of the 25th, for the sake of the little kids, when in Colombia the tradition is to open them at midnight on the 24th.
I didn't want to make a big fuss, but I knew that I needed to let them know how I was feeling, because I really can't spend the next month and a half with those looks and critical attitudes. Well, I ended up crying a little bit, which pretty much killed the jolly mood we had before (or maybe they killed the jollyness when they started being bratty).

Here's the thing: we are all away from our families for the holidays. And Christmas, most would agree, is first and foremost about spending time with family and loved ones. Bibi and I have decided to be here, have chosen to sacrifice our family holiday season for the sake of these kids, that they won't be alone. But they don't have a choice in the matter, which is quite sad. Apart from that, each family (not to mention national culture) has different holiday traditions that are important to them. In this "family," we represent three countries and five families. How do we combine those things to have an enjoyable and memorable Christmas season? Plus, these kids honestly don't have a "family culture of holiday traditions," because of their backgrounds (mostly: lack of resources), yet they complain that we don't have "good Christmas" here. And, I realized yesterday, in most families, the parents don't ASK the kids how they want to "do Christmas" -- the parents form the family culture and the kids grow up in that and adopt those traditions, until they move out on their own and adapt them. Yet another facet of being, but not being, a family

Yesterday I suggested that we each choose ONE THING (be it a meal, or some part of the decoration, or a certain activity) that we really want for Christmas to be special for us; that it be something that won't negatively affect the others; it isn't supposed to be a gift that we want for Christmas.
So now I have one week to decide what is going to be the most important thing for me, that I can reasonably hope and ask that we have or do.

a live tree? -- I don't want to deal with the complaining. Plus, part of what's special about the live tree for me is picking it out and decorating it together, and I think they will have bad attitudes. Maybe I'll just have a little one in my room, and we can decorate the artifical one for the house.

brunch on the 25th? -- but this, for me, works better after opening gifts that morning. If we've stayed up really late on the 24th, who is going to want to be up and enjoying brunch?

having a turkey or ham for Christmas dinner? -- this just means spending money. I don't think there will be too many complaints, although one doesn't like pork, so ham would be a "problem" for her.

the advent wreath? -- I like this tradition, but really it just makes more work for me, when I don't have the support of others in the house to make it a family tradition.

handing the gifts out one by one instead of all at once? -- this one really is important to me, but I don't know that it has to be the "one thing" I insist upon.

Anyways, I have until next Sunday to decide. We don't like how the holiday season is starting off with household conflict (again). The point is to ENJOY being together, even though we will probably all be sad at some point or another that we are away from our families. The point is to remember that God gave up everything he deserved to be with us, because he loves us.

concerning social justice

2011-10-25T21:52:00.000-04:00

Concentrated smog pelts my white hoodie and forms into gray puddles on the cracked sidewalk scattered with garbage. A dim streetlight reflects off of a hunched figure on the stoop just around the corner from my friends' front door. He is drinking or huffing something out of a large jug. I recognize his face, but don't know his name. We are on the way to the corner bakery to get bread and milk for a simple soup dinner. It's cold and wet, and he will have no where to escape.

On the way back a few minutes later, I pass him some bread and coffee; he asks me for a blanket (which I don't have to give), then a "limosnita" -- spare change to make us all feel better about the unchanging nature of his life situation. ("...a shortsighted and perverse notion of charity leads Christians simply to perform token acts of mercy... This kind of charity has no real effect in helping the poor: all it does is tacitly condone social injustice and to help to keep conditions as they are -- to help to keep people poor." -Merton)
I don't give him anything, with my thoughts vacillating between, "I just GAVE him food!" and "He'll just spend it on drugs."

If I were out in that cold, raining night, I would probably want something to numb my reality, too.
Yes, his addiction either drove him to the streets, or the streets drove him to become substance-dependent, I assume. But what can I do about it? Giving him money won't help. Giving him bread and coffee doesn't reach to the core of the problem and wholistically bring about change and restoration to this man: created with the mark of the Divine, but beaten so far down that the Image is all but destroyed.

He has shown you, oh man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)

But what does it mean to "do justice" for the untouchables of a westernized society? What is our part? What can I do to work justice?
And even my mercy in this case was watered-down, perhaps. Yes, I gave a bit of my money to put something in his belly -- I didn't just cross over and look away when I saw him, like the priest and levite in the Good Samaritan parable -- but I didn't take him in, offer him his human dignity again, care for his body and soul. Okay, there are all kinds of reasons to NOT do this -- it's not my house, he would take advantage, he needs rehab, I'm a single woman, etc. But what is he calling us to DO about it?
And walking with God in humility? Well, we're working on it.

Thomas Merton broaches the subject in his book Life and Holiness, which I am (slowly) reading. "There is no charity without justice. ... The sacrifice must be real, not just a gesture of lordly paternalism which inflates his own ego while patronizing 'the poor.' The sharing of material goods must also be a sharing of the heart, a recognition of common misery and poverty and of brotherhood in Christ." And he later declares that, "The task of each Christian today is to help defend and restore the basic human values without which grace and spirituality will have little practical meaning in the life of man."

He cites Jesus' parable of the judgment - those who fed the hungry, visited the sick, etc. did it for Jesus and are given eternal life.
God's divine revelation in the Mosaic law represents how we are to relate to God and to each other. He teaches us many times to care for the widows, orphans, and foreigners, and gives specifics of how to do good to our "brothers."
Who is my brother?
This question that I ask sounds eerily like the, "Who is my neighbor?" which prompted the Good Samaritain parable. My neighbor, my brother, my sister, is everyone; and especially those who most need my help.

I still don't know what to do for the street people. How to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with my God.

unconventional motherhood

2011-10-10T17:59:00.000-04:00

A friend just sent me this link: http://www.kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/ to a blog about a book by a missionary in Uganda, and this is from the most recent blog entry:

"I want her to be a baby so I can strap her on me and hold her there and she will feel secure and safe and protected. I want to be the person who taught her to write her name and how much fun it is to make mud pies, and I want to be the person who laughed with her when she lost her first tooth. I want to know where the scars came from that she can’t remember the stories about, and I want to be the person who wiped her tears when she fell.

But I know that is not how God intended it.

He did not choose me for those moments, He chose me for these. I entered motherhood through a different door, and I get a different kind of stretch marks."

This resonates with me. I would add, "I want to be the one to contiue to live each step of the journey, each stage of this wonderful, awfully painful, beautiful, forever-surprising journey called life with him/her. I want to be able to say 'you are my son/daughter' without the doubt that one day this will end; that legal situations or living arrangements may change, although my heart won't."
I entered motherhood through a different door, alright. And my stretch marks may seem out of place, but they are beautiful scars that I will cherish as they increase in number and size throughout our lives.

unQUALIFIED

2011-10-04T14:06:00.000-04:00

“For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength.” (1 Corinthians 1:25)

When asked what profession I have, I never quite know what to say. I studied English and Spanish, but I’m not a certified teacher. I taught ESL for a while after graduating, and now these degrees are useful on a daily basis, but they are not the foundation of what I do. I’m basically a mom, but sometimes people want to know what qualifications I have for the missions work and children’s work that I do.
None.
According to university standards, government job pre-requisites, legal or technical know-how… I really am unqualified to do this -- And boy do I feel it!!! There are so many situations that I don’t know how to manage!
I feel particularly unqualified when dealing with the kids’ sexuality, and hoping to encourage healthy development in that area. With their backgrounds, which –generally speaking— do not provide good examples and precedents of loving relationships, commitment, and healthy sexuality, I find myself asking God, “WHY ME?!” Why on earth would he have me dealing with these issues and supposedly teaching his children to grow up into healthy women and men who know how to take care of and respect themselves and others, and who can walk in the tension of every human being – physical AND spiritual, neither animal nor angel (as Rob Bell puts it so well in his book Sex God).
Yet, when I recently felt so unprepared and helpless and useless and undesiring-of-this-responsibility, the Holy Spirit brought this scripture to my mind:

“At that time Jesus said, ‘I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.” (Matthew 11:25-26)

What a thought! What a truth! God delights in using the unwise, unqualified, and uncapable to fulfill his perfect will!
A day or two after that, I received a letter confirming it – Isaiah 55 invites the thirsty to come and buy without money. What we most need, we can’t provide ourselves, but he makes the way. Because his thoughts are not my thoughts and his ways are not my ways. So, even though I would be a lot more comfortable with someone more qualified, trained, or wise to take care of the really complicated issues, that’s not how it is right now. I know that I “can’t” and he seems to think that that’s perfect: that way, anything good, any transformation, will obviously be OF GOD, and not have anything to do with my abilities! Dependency, not self-sufficiency!

oops!

2011-09-20T21:27:00.000-04:00

I had a minor car accident on Saturday! I think it was my first accident ever, and thankfully no one was hurt.
We were all in the car (3 staff and 6 kids) going to a park for the afternoon. As we approached the full parking lot, the traffic lane we were in turned into a line, waiting for a parking space to become available. We slowed to a halt, also waiting in line for a few minutes, until I realized that it could be hours before the owners of those cars decided to leave!
So that's when I decided to continue on down the road and find somewhere else to park. The only problem: the cars coming in the other lane weren't about to stop to let me back into the flow of traffic. But that's normal for Bogota traffic; you often have to just go, and the cars are forced to slow down for you. The hand-out-the-window also works well to alert others that you need them to give you room to merge (except for the "intentionally oblivious" -- a.k.a. rude -- drivers), but on Saturday, nothing was helping. The motos, buses, cars, taxis, and vans just kept on coming as fast as ever! I inched forward and a little to the left with my arm hanging out the window, hoping to see my chance and take it. When I finally tried to pull out, I was closer to the car in front of us than I realized, and scraped his bumper a bit!
I reversed, got out of the car, and went to apologize and see what we should do. The driver and his girlfriend were pretty nice, we exchanged contact information and just today I met up with him to take care of the damage. Thankfully, there was no dent, just paint damage, so the mechanic (who helps with all of our ministry car needs) only charged me 100,000 pesos (about USD $55). Painting a bumper in the States would be way more expensive than that, right???
So, I'm grateful for the little discount that he gave me, for how minor the damages were, that no one was hurt, and that my car is a beast -- a little red-paint smudge on her side just gives her more character!

craft ideas

2011-09-07T21:15:00.000-04:00

In other news, I'm in a Christmas mood, barely resisting the urge to bold-faced listen to holiday music (charlie brown Christmas doesn't count... it's jazz!)
That being said, we're definitely making this craft to decorate the house/tree, or for the kids to give as gifts (it's also the solution to all the incomplete puzzles we have!):

The problem is that close to the holidays we all get crazy busy and my best intentions don't usually work out. We should get on this now... maybe it can be a Thanksgiving Day project, after the meal.

I really want to make fresh evergreen garlands or a wreath. Any tips on that one? Won't the branches/leaves/berries get all dried out?

solitude vs. companionship

2011-09-07T13:33:00.000-04:00

Some of you may know that over the last year, God has been teaching me to live in the present, to enjoy life, to take today for what it is and all that it has to offer.

That being said, my good friend, Ingrid (from Canada) gets to Colombia tomorrow evening. She's just completed her DTS with YWAM, and is coming (back) to Colombia to work with us again. She'll be staying at my house, at least for a couple of weeks. I am very very very happy to see her again, and to have an adult in the house! But then I wonder if I've taken advantage of these 3 weeks of solitude as I should have... if I have learned what God had planned... but in order to live in the present, I'll have to stop second-guessing and just enjoy each stage whole-heartedly!

.

2011-08-31T13:08:00.000-04:00

It's the little things that are overwhelming me, that seem like enormous failures, that I feel unable to do anything about:

A trash bag torn open by dogs and strewed all over the driveway.

A phone call from a little girl's preschool to tell me that she still has lice (even after we keep treating her), and that it's unacceptable and we really have to do something about it.

Lights left on by the kids on my day off.

Finding that jobs are only partially done when I'm told they've been completed.

gleanings walking home from preschool

2011-08-26T19:08:00.000-04:00

Today feels a bit like autumn.

Footracing Horses, pt. 2

2011-08-25T12:54:00.000-04:00

Bibiana is on vacation for six weeks. Five weeks to go...
I'm glad for her, but I never wanted her to leave. I found myself sad, nervous, scared, unsure, at the prospect of taking care of these children and this house on my own.

A friend suggested I re-read the book of Numbers, the account of Israel's wandering in the wilderness. He told me that the desert doesn't only represent difficulty, but that it is the place where they experienced God's presence and holiness and provision. That my own desert wandering, during these six weeks, could be the same.

If you've kept up with my blog, maybe you remember the post a couple months ago, in which I wrote about Jeremiah 12:5. "So, Jeremiah, if you're worn out in this footrace with men, what makes you think you can race against horses? And if you can't keep your wits during times of calm, what's going to happen when troubles break loose like the Jordan in flood?" (The Message)

Bibiana left on a Wednesday morning, right before the kids walked out the door for school, while they were still eating breakfast. After they were all gone and I was alone with a cup of coffee, the morning view of the valley, and God, I asked him if he was going to teach me to run with the horses now. A fellow missionary told me that I need a picture of some horses galloping to remind me of this.
--"What, with me running like crazy after them, trying to catch them? Oh, and I should put the kids' faces over the horses'!"
--"Just so long as you're not running ahead of them, about to get trampled down!"
--"I think it's more likely that I would be hiding behind a bush in the fetal position, letting them run on by."
Because that's my standard reaction: shut down, block it out.

My friend sent me another passage, Isaiah 54:2-3
“Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, strengthen your stakes. For you will spread out to the right and to the left; your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities."
Here, according to the person who sent me the verse, I was supposed to feel that I'm not alone. Instead, I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me to not shut down, withdraw, block out. In fact, to do the opposite: to open up, to live fully, not on half-power.
But how? How does one keep up with horses? How do I strengthen my stakes and lengthen my cords when I feel like my resources are running low?

How have others done the impossible in the past?
In the book of Numbers, Moses has the ridiculously, impossibly difficult task of leading the unruly and incredulous People of God. Time and time again, when the people rebel, when they complain, when there seems to be no way out, this is the response: "Moses and Aaron fell facedown and cried out, “O God!" What strikes me about this is that these were the big guys, yet they didn't dare try to resolve the issues on their own. They realized their complete dependence on God and their utter incapability apart from him.

When I am pushed to the breaking point, this is not my natural reaction. I daresay it was not Moses and Aaron's natural reaction either, but they learned through trial and error that it was the only way. At Sinai, Aaron gave in to the people and made a golden calf for them to worship. Moses broke the stone tablets that God himself had written. They screwed up. But they moved on, and they became more dependent on God.

From that same post near the beginning of July:
"I believe that everything that comes my way passes through God's hand, is permitted by him (even though this is hard to accept when I think of the horrible things that happen in this world). Also, I believe that God uses it all for my best interest -- to conform me more to Jesus' image. Thirdly, that God permits more than I can handle, so that I must become more dependent on Him."

Dependency... when Bibi is here she covers my weaknesses at times. it's uncomfortable to have to go it alone, exposing myself and feeling like I have no one to keep me in check or support me. But maybe her absence is an invitation to let God work on those weaknesses and faults. A wilderness where I confront my errors, which I am incapable of redeeming, and let the Holy, Present One make me into something new.

"The power of the LORD came on Elijah and, tucking his cloak into his belt, he ran ahead of Ahab [and his horse-drawn chariot] all the way to Jezreel." (1 Kings 18:44-46)

pets

2011-08-24T21:36:00.001-04:00

Introducing the newest animal member of the Kiwi Household: Tabbycat!

We picked her up Sunday after church. So far she is adapting very well, is very curious and friendly and not too mischeivous.
Yesterday I decided to take her to get her vaccines, so I found a large shoe box, lined it with newspaper, put her in and used masking tape to secure the lid.
Negra, our dog, also needed some medical attention, due to the mysterious swelling of her face on Saturday and then the breakout or scratched-off skin on her snout Sunday and Monday. I attempted to cross-tie her in the back of the Nissan Patrol, put Tabbycat's box on the front floorboard, and we were off down the bumpy dirt road. (Oh, this was after I had to break into my own house, climbing through the small bathroom window, since I left my keys inside.)

Negra's leash clasp is damaged, so she soon freed herself and proceeded to stick her disgusting snout uncomfortably close to me while I was driving. The cat in the box behaved well. We arrived to Veterniaria El Oso and Negra pulled me through the door. It turned out to be some sort of allergic reaction, either to bee sting or some stinging plant that grows around here. The vet treated her and sold me some medicine and cream for her nose, as well as a new collar and leash.
One pet down, the other to go. I finally got Negra back in the car, lifting all 26.6 kilos of her (over 50 lbs) into the back of the car. Then I went to the front to carry in Tabbycat, who by this point was going crazy in the confined space of the shoebox. After they gave her her shots I put her back in the box, which she did not like one bit. She started clawing and biting at the cardboard and trying to stick her head out of the side. By this point the masking tape was getting a little worn and had lost much of its adhesive power, but I didn't bother to put on anymore.
Bad idea.
As I turned on the car and started down the road, TabbyCat emerged from the box. I tried to shoo her away, even stopped the car to put her back inside, but nothing worked! So I suddenly had a loose dog and a loose cat in the car, while driving along a curvy mountain road!
These animals did not know each other yet, and I wasn't sure how they would react. For a while I held the cat still against my abdomen with one arm, driving with the other hand. When she squirmed free she began to look for a way to get into the back of the car, where Negra was loose, looking out the window!
Thankfully it's a short drive, only about five minutes, because that was some intense, and strange stress! The good thing was that it was a stress utterly different to that which I'm used to, so it wasn't horrible!

more delightful surprises

2011-08-18T22:45:00.001-04:00

Today I had an appointment with the otorrinolaringologo. That is how you say ENT (ear, nose, and throat doctor) in spanish. Wow, enough learning for one day!
Anyways, that went well... hopefully I won't have to have sinus surgery anytime soon, but there's always that possiblity. But that wasn't the delightful surprise. Nor was it delightful (although it was a surprise) that the computer system fell right as I was finishing up and therefore they weren't able to print off my prescription and order to get another x-ray.
After waiting in lines of people with the same problem, and watching the poor receptionist get more and more distressed, I decided to go out for a while and hope that the system came back up while I was gone. So I started walking along Avenida 19, which is lined with brick sidewalks and evenly-spaced maple trees, expensive car dealerships, kitchenware stores, and spas. I was thinking about getting my nails done, but didn't want to pay the prices of the high-end salons around there, so kept walking until I saw a promising side street.

Halfway up that block, the ornate facade of Jacques' tea room juts out. It is... luxurious... and cute... and inviting. Above and a bit behind the facade, enormous brass letters read "JESUS." Jazz music drifts out from the glassed-in front sitting area. I walk in and immediately like the place. Small tables, walls lined with Mucha prints so close together that their frames are nearly touching... a little further in there is beautiful bread, scrumptious pastries, heavenly merengues, and red velvet carpet going up some stairs to another sitting area.
I stop, in awe of the delectable sight.
Then continue upstairs and choose a seat at the counter, where I can take it all in. A kind-faced, gray-haired man is at the other end of the dark wooden counter. He asks if I wouldn't like to sit at a table. No, I prefer to look down at the rest of the tea room. He has an accent. I ask where he is from. France. He is Jacques, the owner of the establishment. I am from the U.S. His colombian wife studied in Charleston, South Carolina. I'm from North Carolina! I meet his wife. They find out I'm a missionary. They are Christians, their children go to the same (american) school as some kids I know, they go to the same church as some friends of mine. Jacques invites me to follow him outside to meet a friend of his from their church and to see the name "JESUS" hanging above his bakery.
Once back inside, upstairs, I eat a delicious -- DELICIOUS -- cinnamon roll and drink a fruity tea, read some, and go downstairs to pay. Jacques tells me that God paid for me today, and they give me a little card with a Bible verse on it.

After this delightful surprise, I felt very blessed and walked back to the clinic smiling. There I turned in my forms to the now-calm receptionist, waited half an hour (reading), then was called up to the desk to learn that the system fell again! Oh well, some things shouldn't be surprising...

2011-08-12T19:33:00.000-04:00

A hummingbird landed on my windowsill to rest. It was beautiful and surprising to see something that small and fleeting stop and look in at me.
His green wings were soon lifted and he was gone. Jesus knows how to make me smile, and likes sharing those moments with me.

friends?

2011-08-09T10:17:00.002-04:00

So, after my post about my social anxiety, I forced myself to go on a young adults retreat with church this past weekend. It was great! I had a lot of fun and met a lot of neat people. Hopefully I will make a couple of friends through this...

phobia

2011-07-29T17:55:00.000-04:00

Recently I have really been struggling in social settings where I am "the new one." I experience a lot of anxiety, inability to speak up even when I have something I would like to say, and feelings of being stupid, self-pity, and then self-deprecation.
What is up with all of this????
Is this something new? Or is it just that, before, I wasn't exposed to such situations as often?

As a kid, when I switched neighborhoods, churches, or schools I was with my brothers, or already knew at least person in the class. I was never ALONE in my newness.
When I went to college, and when I went to Chile for my DTS, all of the students were new, not just me!
When I came to Colombia long-term, I had already been once before so I knew a few people. All the same, it took me a while to get to know people before feeling comfortable to be myself, express my opinions, etc.

But the other week, when I went alone to a "young professionals" group at church, I felt mute when we were divided into small groups. When I left, I had to cry. If only I had been with a friend, I think it would've been way better!

Of course, I think that Spanish is a factor here. Yes, I am fluent, but I still feel self-conscious when I am surrounded by all native speakers, especially those who already know each other!

So, how do I get over this paralyzing fear? And what is the root? Do I need to know how it began to be able to overcome it?

The woman who is unmarried...

2011-07-22T00:33:00.000-04:00

[How hard it is to fully place my trust and hope in God alone! Even when I make great strides in that direction, so soon I find myself looking to others to fill me up!]

Here's another book recommendation by Emily: Sacred Singleness, by Leslie Ludy.
I generally don't read "singles" books... but at the insistence of my friend Casia (a talented, witty, and beautiful 30-something single woman who is currently on a short-term missions trip to Uganda, with plans to go back long-term next year), I bought the book, and then I forced myself to open the book, and to read the book.
(It is really good.)

Over the past couple of weeks, this was part of what God used to speak to me about where my heart is, and to set me straight about where it should be -- to seek his glory above all, to trust him completely, and to receive every season in life as a gift and enjoy it accordingly!

"...the woman who is unmarried ...is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy..." (1 Cor. 7:34)
So when I find my mind drifting to doubt or discontentment, or hanging the weight of my soul on a 'false infinite' (looking to anything or anyone other than God to be my source of identity and worth)... I have to catch myself and redirect; to discipline my thoughts (as well as my tongue and my actions)!
If I could bring more glory to God by being married at this time, then I would be, right? So here's to taking advantage of this "season of singleness" (to use Ludy's words) as a time to draw closer to God in an intimate relationship, and to really form habits like intercessory prayer. These things can continue if I get married, but now is a really good time to establish them!

voluntary solitude

2011-07-17T21:54:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had a "getaway day." The plans I had been making for my weekend off fell apart as I experienced more sinus pain (I decided that going in a bus for about 9 hours up and down mountains would be excruciating). What I really needed and wanted was some time to get away from life and pray, to hear from God on some specific issues.
So I went up to the cabin, a tiny little house up the mountain from mine, and spent over 24 hours alone.
For those who know me well, you're probably wondering how on earth I managed! In college, when Mary came back tot he apartment after I had spent TWO hours alone, I would be so enthusiastic to have companionship again that I think I probably squelched any desire of hers to hang out with me! I'm not the kind of person who can be alone for extended periods of time.
All day Friday I was in Bogota, and came back up to the farm late. Bibi met me with the car, we loaded my stuff (food, water, books, guitar, art supplies) and she dropped me off at the cabin. I had freely chosen time alone, but when she left me I sobbed to God that I didn't want to be alone. Then, I slept.

All day Saturday, I was fine! I really enjoyed it, actually. I painted (don't like how it turned out, but I enjoyed the process, so it was worth it) I read, I prayed and journalled and read some more, I played guitar to begin and end my day... and I didn't feel lonely!

Today I was wondering about how that was possible. Is it that my life affords so little personal space and alone time that I have developed the need for extended periods of it?
Or is it that, as I cried out to Jesus in my solitude, he drew near and I was able to enjoy a day with him, instead of being swallowed up by loneliness and anxiety for human contact?

Either way (and maybe both) it was really great.
And about my questions and desires for the time with Jesus? On several topics, I feel like he pointed out how my views are skewed... and he lovingly set me straight.

I still couldn't be a hermit, and I still never want to live alone. But my "voluntary solitary confinement" wasn't bad at all!

Father

2011-07-16T18:07:00.001-04:00

Jeremiah 31:20
"Oh! Emily is my dear, dear daughter,
my child in whom I take pleasure!
Every time I mention her name,
my heart bursts with longing for her!
Everything in me cries out for her.
Softly and tenderly I wait for her."
GOD's Decree.

Insert your name here. Do it. Now, decide to believe it.
And declare it about your loved ones, your children.

After all that I've learned and am learning about the Father Heart of God,
I still find myself struggling to believe. I mean, YES, I believe that God is my Father, and the Father of the fatherless, the father of the children I love... but I was just confronted with the realization that have still been thinking-believing-living that an earthly father is more real than God-as-Father. That these children so desperately need an earthly father to make up for the Daddy-hole they have...
But I choose to believe that God is enough.
For me, for them, for you too.

I still believe that God's perfect plan includes good, earthly fathers for all of His children, but even the best Dad cannot fill everything his child needs. The Daddy-hole will still be here -- because we are souls, with bodies. We need to believe the reality of the spiritual and our necessity for more than the what the physical realm can supply.
Someday we won't be physical beings anymore; that part of us will die and decay and what remains will be spirit. Until then, we will continue to live in both worlds: our two feet firmly in the physical, and our spiritual feet firmly in that realm. But when our time on this earth ends... what will it be like? No more struggle to believe, no more living in the tension, no more doubting the Spirit's reality and relevance... Anybody got any scripture-enlightened thoughts on this?

Footracing Horses

2011-07-07T10:35:00.000-04:00

Sad news: Toñeco died. I think I'll wait a while before maybe getting another kitten, unless one just shows up and needs a home.

Do you know the feeling of life being too much to handle? Like you don't know what you're supposed to do, or how to begin, or even if you're supposed to get involved, or how much?
Jesus says, in John 17:4, that he brought God glory by completing the work that God gave him to do. The whole point is bring glory to God. But knowing which tasks God gives us, and which are not ours to take on, is difficult.
He says in another place in the gospels that anyone who plans to build a structure will first sit down and count the costs and make sure that he has enough to pay to complete the project.
And in Jeremiah 12:5, God says, "If you're tired out by competing in a footrace, how will you run against horses?"

What's the work He's calling me to do?
Do I have what it takes? Can I pay the price?
How WILL I run against horses? (It cannot be done, outside of God's supernatural strength, like he gave to Elijah to outrun Ahab's chariot.)

I believe that everything that comes my way passes through God's hand, is permitted by him (even though this is hard to accept when I think of the horrible things that happen in this world). Also, I believe that God uses it all for my best interest -- to conform me more to Jesus' image. Thirdly, that God permits more than I can handle, so that I must become more dependent on Him.

Toñeco

2011-06-27T16:44:00.000-04:00

When I got home, this little birthday surprise was waiting for me! I've named him Toñeco, a venezuelan word for "spoiled."

June twenty-first

2011-06-23T16:59:00.000-04:00

Before the Thunderstorm, a haze like smoke filled the heavy air. Mom and I went for a walk. Leaving the air conditioned house was like walking into a fiery furnace: Oppressive, the heat on this first day of summer. Halfway out on the loop we saw the lightning... waited... heard the thunder; started to walk briskly toward home as the wind picked up.

I had been waiting for this: North Carolina summer thunderstorms -- and was a little disappointed not to have had any. But as we crossed through the woods behind the house and arrived at the back stoop, big drops fell as lightning cracked close by.

On the front porch I watch it, laughing: Rain, buffeted like clean white sheets on a line, so thick that the other side of the lake is masked as with fog -- only marked by the neighbors' light. The thick cloud passes by, curtain opening on late-light-illuminated clouds beyond. Now, I only hear the wind in the oaks -- feather leaves rasping together like a million dry and calloused palms; see the slowdance of the lanky pines -- silken needles stabbing the air; sense that the rain has stopped falling -- only the downspouts sing as the water-full gutters empty themselves.

This is my last night at Mom and Dad's house for... a long time. For me, the storm is a hoped-for treat, a parting gift received with open arms and smiling eyes. For many here in Sanford, storms are now a source of anxiety, terror; but I was not here for the tornado. My memories of thunder are sweet: of childhood summer eves on the porch with Dad, trying not to get wet from the wind-blown water; of going out to play in the last light of the day after the humidity has been nullified -- so heavy that it up and decided to fall from puffy clouds; of waking up in the dark to listen to rumbling, safe in bed.

I've grown more accustomed to traveling; I've not gotten used to having my heart in two different places -- split between continents, languages, families. It would be easier to ignore one and embrace the other--

Again I come to it, this tension in which I'm called to live, all of us are. Physical AND spiritual beings. Bounded by space and time. Invited (forced?) to LIVE -- on a tightrope, in the gray (there is no black and white in most cases). It's a circus act -- one must keep the right amount of slack in the line without letting loose; constant adjustments required.

How can we learn to enjoy the tension?
To live in the present?
To lead lives of moderated passion and prudence?

The deep-toned resonation of a wind chime reaches me on the rocking chair, following her invisible waves through the calm breeze. Rain's stopped again... or has it?
Thunderstorms make me want to write. Low thunder passes with a sound like an airplane (...or is it that an airplane sounds like thunder?), but the rain may stay. Tomorrow we'll drive to Charlotte, say goodbye for the months (year? more?) to come, and I'll board a cloud. Then, rumbling across the sky, I'll pass from one home to another.
I will live it, this division, this split affection, this tension; so I might as well enjoy it: every moment.

2011-06-13T18:23:00.000-04:00

2011-06-13T18:19:00.000-04:00

This morning, waking up in the comfort of my parents' home, I wondered why I haven't felt like God is speaking to me directly during this time of vacation, other than daily reminders to put my hope in Him alone, and to enjoy life each day. Have I not given him time? Has he been desperately trying to communicate to me but I am lost in the pages of some other author's book? Or driving between cities? Or sleeping? Or watching birds squabble over seed? Or staring at the wind in the leaves?

Probably not. He usually speaks to me when he wants to, asleep or awake, driving or reading or watching the world. And maybe he is speaking to me, about rest and enjoyment and freedom in love... and other things I haven't even realized yet.

as watchmen wait for the dawn...

2011-06-07T21:29:00.003-04:00

Blue days happen everywhere.

Sitting by the lake at twighlight, lines from two songs collide in my mind:
the everybodyfields: "I can be lonely here; I can be lonely anywhere"
enter the worship circle: "Though I feel alone, I am never alone, for you are with me, you are with me, O my Lord. You take all those who will come to you..."

God meets us on the down days.

And then a verse of my own creation:
I thought that my searching was over,
that my waiting was almost through.
But my searching and waiting and hoping
will be ever, and ever, in You.

And one from the Bible:
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord;
O Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.

If you, O Lord, kept a record of sins,
O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness;
therefore you are feared.

I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.

O Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.
-Psalm 130

I'm grateful for

2011-05-29T21:51:00.004-04:00

Friendships that pick right up where they left off years ago

Fireflies

Family that loves me, even if they don't always understand me

Driving with the windows down

Good roads and cars (and airplanes) that make traveling to see family and friends quick and safe!

Childhood memories

So many things that stay the same even when everything changes

Blue sky, flowers, the beach, wind in the trees, birds, fresh strawberries and peaches, mountains... summer sights and smells and sounds and tastes!

Innumerable blessings poured out upon me by my loving Father.

Fish

2011-05-28T20:22:00.003-04:00

Between the upper and lower falls at the Graveyard Fields, I saw a rock-colored fish. After our hike along the gentle trail, Mary and I were squatting by a pool created by some boulders damming the water flow down the mountain. She wanted to stick her feet in it before beginning the trek back, easing her swollen ankles.

Behind us, the white water rushes down the almost-vertical rock face: which turns horizontally; upon which we now sit; which continues beyond and below us, with a ribbon of a brook through the middle. On either side, the still-young green of late spring masks branches and rocks and birds and all manner of things unknowable in these woods.
But here, on the broad river of stone between the verdant, wooden shores, there is only Fish.

Twice he jumped to try to eat an insect hovering above the surface. The winged creature flew on. Betrayed, again, by his fins, his scales, his water-breathing. I crossed my legs and watched the Fish. How had he chosen this tiny pool? Had he come over the falls? Could a fish survive such a battering, this side of the frying pan? For how long has he been in this pool? For how long can a pool so small sustain him -- can he grow there? Will he squeeze past the boulders and tempt fate by going down the rest of the mountain? If he depends on catching insects to survive, he won't last much longer...

We had walked the path, cut through the middle of rhodedendron forests, where the monotony of wood and leaf is shattered by silent bursts of color. We passed through fields that the 1925 forest fire had cleared, and over the crooked fingers of the stream we were following. Before we saw it, we heard it: the waterfall. First there were the lower falls, beautiful but small, pouring down the naked mountain. Stepping across the broadly-diverted water -- mere trickles across so much even, down-sloping, soil-less space -- we continued upward, until the upper falls were in view. I know that the mountain laurel always sees it. It does not take the maple tree's breath away. When it rains and there is more water, the fern is not impressed by the sight. But I made a rock sculpture. An ebenezer, said Mary. And we truly enjoyed it. And we just WERE. I just WAS. I just am. ...be...

Mary's baby is swimming like a small, but growing, Fish in his own personal pool.

The rock-colored Fish has sunny speckles on his sides. He lives in, and breathes, pure light rippled by water. He moves slowly, precisely, through the cold water collecting above the Fish-colored rock.

Mi Negra!

2011-05-21T17:32:00.002-04:00

We have a new dog! Yesterday we went to "Manimal" clinic and picked up our new girl! She looks almost exactly like Rocco did, but has a girl face and softer fur. She's a lab mix, and is around 7-8 months old. At the clinic where we got her they've been calling her "Negra", so I guess the name is sticking!

2011-05-20T20:13:00.002-04:00

it's time for a vacation. patience levels are rapidly falling. energy and desire to fulfill necessary tasks are disappearing.
"carolina, one day i'll, some day i'll come home" [the avett brothers]

until monday, springtime!

understanding

2011-05-17T21:45:00.003-04:00

I generally want to be understood.
If I don't feel that someone understands me well, or that they don't agree with me, it's like I NEED to explain myself. And often the things I feel most strongly about are the most difficult to explain (add a second language to the mix, and the complication multiplies).
Like the time in my DTS when I tried to briefly explain how I felt about the tolerance zone (part of the city where prostitution is overlooked, though not legal)... all I could say was how angry it made me that the police just drive by and LOOK at the women and men who are selling themselves in every doorway.
But what I meant was it boils my blood to see humans stripped of their God-given dignity!

Our eleven-year-old has a school activity on Thursday. They sent a note home that she needs to bring "a shirt that shows her belly button and a very short skirt" as her costume for a dance that her class is going to perform. The dance itself is extremely inappropriate, even if they are doing a toned-down version.
I wrote a letter to the teacher, to say that we didn't feel it was suitable and asking for an alternative activity for her to participate in that day. They are respecting our decision, thankfully, but I know that they don't understand why.
And that they won't understand.

How do you talk about the spiritual impact of an overly sexual dance on children, to someone who doesn't see the spiritual realm as equally real as the physical?
How do you convince him that these kids have experienced too much, too soon, and that dancing this, or even watching others, will only serve to open more doors in their lives and further awaken what should be left dormant for a longer time?
How do you explain that the problem isn't with studying culture, but rather with which elements of that culture are age-appropriate, and also that as Christians, we aren't to conform to any culture other than God's.

You can't explain that. So you listen to his disappointment on the phone, but thank him for respecting your decision as her caretaker. Then you disappoint her by telling her she can't participate, knowing that she doesn't understand, but praying that she will know it's in love.

this too...

2011-05-10T21:03:00.002-04:00

Lately I've been listening to the long list of sermons that are set to automatically download via podcast and then sit, unheard, in iTunes. At Mars Hill Bible Church, they did a series on the book of Ecclesiastes.
Sermon number 1: "lessons in vapor managment"
Turns out that the word "meaningless" is actually better-translated "vapor" or "mist," which isn't nothing and isn't without meaning, it's just passing. And that the book's author is showing that EVERYTHING in the realm of the created is temporary. And the ONLY permanent, non-vapor thing, is the uncreated: God and the spiritual realm.
But we end up spending a lot of time and energy and emotion on what Rob Bell calls "vapor management" -- not that it's all bad, but we do need to remember that all these things, like the early morning fog that creeps up the side of these green mountains, will vanish.

Sermon number 2, which I heard today while working in the garden: "a time"
Yeah, we all know the passage... there is a time for [a long list of contrasting actions]. Shane Hipps points out that most of the time we think of this as a list of things we should do at different points in our lives, but that it's really a list of a whole bunch of circumstances that we will experience between birth and death.
It's not a to do list. It's just stating the facts. And, reminding us that all these situations are vapor.
"He has made everything beautiful in its time" And the vapor is beautiful, even when it seems like a bad mist.
"He has also set eternity in the human heart" This point was really interesting for me: When we get tired of all the "vapor management," then we can learn to experience what Hipps explains as a state of joyful acceptance of the now. To stop obsessing over the past or anxiously awaiting the future.
Is this how Jesus lived, all the time?
Is this what He has been inviting me to experience all these months with the reminders to live in the present? Because I want that.

Jesus says that the Kingdom of God is within us. Solomon says that God has set eternity in our hearts.
Hipps suggests that Jesus came to show us the way into that peaceful, joyful, eternal kingdom; how to unlock the still water within us, that eternity in the midst of the ever-changing mist. And to do that, we need to 1. have a relationship with the Master and 2. be actively involved, choosing to live in the present, and be able to rest in the NOW
Then we can start to access the eternal, which is in our hearts, which also happens to be the recipient for the infinite love of God.

So, bad day? Good day? Sunshine or rain? Laughter or tears? Hired or fired? Finally got pregnant or another negative test? He loves me or he loves me not? Chicken or fish for dinner?
This, too, shall pass.
But the love of God remains, and it's in me, and it's unchanging. Will I choose to experience it?

mothers' day

2011-05-08T20:27:00.003-04:00

Our friends went home this weekend. Went, and aren't coming back within the foreknow-able future. Home, to England.
Today was the parent visit.
Today is also Mother's Day.

That's a lot of emotions.
I cried, kind of a lot.

Wanna know the hardest thing for me today? I don't know how to do what I do. I don't know how to be, and at the same time not be, mom.
And I can't imagine being a kid and not knowing who to give my school-made mother's day project to. Which mom?
And when I am present, and the biological mom is present, what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to react? Interact? And when our son gashes his head open... it's not my role to take care of him, because she's there. So I wash dishes and cry in the corner by the sink. And she probably thinks I'm cold and neglecting.
Plus, I'm a single mom. Well, my housemate is my co-mom, plus the biological moms... man it's complicated! These kids need dads, too!
And in church, when the pastor invited all the mothers to stand up, I didn't know what to do.

I don't think I like this day very much, being and not being, mom.

Easter and earning it

2011-04-24T22:26:00.002-04:00

Update on Rocco: he died. That's pretty sad, and I still keep thinking he'll come wagging up to the gate when we get home, but it's part of life. Hopefully we'll get a new dog soon. He's the fourth dog at our vet who has died from multiple organ failure after eating these tiny beetles, which apparently become addictive to the animals, causing them to eat more.

I'm reading a book called One Child by a woman named Torey Hayden, who used to be a teacher for disturbed children. There's one part where the six-year-old girl that Torey is teaching and with whom she forms a very close bond gets very frustrated because she messes up on a math worksheet that is above her grade level. (She is very bright and can do 4th grade math, but this was a 5th grade workseet.) The scene is portrayed this way:

"I done them wrong, didn't I?"
"You didn't know, kiddo. No one showed you."
She flopped down beside me and put her face in her hands. "I wanted to do them right and show you I could do them without help"
"Sheila, it's nothing to get upset about."
She sat for a few moments covering her face. Then slowly her hands slid away and she uncrumpled the paper which she had mashed. "I bet if I could have done math problems good, my Mama, she wouldn't leave me on no highway like she done. If I could have done fifth grade math problems, she'd be proud of me."
"I don't think math problems have anything to do with it Sheila. We really don't know why your Mama left. She probably had all sorts of troubles of her own."
"She left because she don't love me no more. You don't go leaving kids you love on the highway. And I cut my leg. See?" For the hundredth time the scar was displayed to me. "If I'd been a gooder girl, she wouldn't have done that. She might still love me even now, if i could have been gooder."

This broke my heart. I dog-eared the page. It makes me think of Li'l J, and his breakdowns about doing homework sometimes, and how much he dislikes having to be taught to do something new, even when it's explained to him that there is no way he can know (how to write, for example) without help from someone older.
Then there are some of the other kids who won't even try anything unless they know beforehand that they will be successful. So they sit, passive, unwilling to try to "earn" respect by their actions, but also unwilling to even be helpful if they don't feel like they already HAVE someone's acceptance.
And it reminds me of a friend from back home who is brilliant and wonderful, but who came to the realization that no matter how much he studies, how many degrees he gets, what kind of great job he has, or how many times he gets published or otherwise honored... his family won't love him, won't give him what he so desperately needs and wants from them.

Does it remind you of anyone? Of yourself?
We are all broken, to different extents. In that injured state we try to earn love, and unjustified love doesn't make sense.
If only I'd been prettier, smarter, more talented, wittier, more helpful, willing to do or be something different... things would've turned out differently. That person I loved would have reciprocated, wouldn't have changed, wouldn't have left me.

We all need a healer.

Today is Easter in the Christian faith. The day that we remember that pure love, unmerited reward, jolted into this world and tore apart the system of earning acceptance.

A cross, a tomb: the symbol of Roman imperial oppression; the symbol of the unavoidable fate of every man and woman
Christ on a cross, an empty tomb: the symbol of love we can't earn, nor nullify; the symbol of abundant life, and hope as a firm anchor for the soul.

The eucharist, the Lord's supper, Santa Cena: as we eat a bit of bread and drink a bit of wine or juice, we say, "YES! Count me in! I need a healer and I want one, too. I want more of this counter-culture love and grace and open-armed acceptance. I can't do anything to increase it and I can't explain it away. It's beyond me, and that's just the sort of healing I need."

beetlejuice

2011-04-14T17:22:00.002-04:00

A little over a week ago, Rocco the Kiwi House Dog got sick. He had gunk in his eyes, not much appetite, was really lethargic, lost a LOT of weight, and was weakly/trembly in general. I decided to take him to the vet.
Before we got the test results back, I thought I had paid about $50 for her to tell me he's probably just sad (his brother disappeared around the same time that he got puny and sickly).
But, apparently there is an epidemic in our area of dogs eating beetles and getting deathly ill. Our dog is sick, but not that bad yet. Hopefully we've caught the symptoms in time and the medicines, extra attention, and especially the bright green bandana that the nice, but fast-medical-jargon-talkin' vet, gave him will help Rocco get back up and running soon!

2011-04-09T19:10:00.006-04:00

Today we harvested little yellow potatoes out of our garden! It was really exciting to see our first fruits!

the tiniest potato ever:

CONTROL

2011-03-31T13:34:00.004-04:00

Hi, my name is Emily, and I have a control problem.
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Raising children, I wonder what the difference is between control and obedience. Obedience is a choice, and I want to be part of the process of these kids to learn to willingly choose obedience and its good consequences, even when they don't want to.
However, I sometimes wonder if what my actions and attitudes communicate that I want controlled children...

If I'm trying to read my Bible, or pray, or take a nap during the little ones' nap time, but I hear them out of bed playing, running around, getting into things that they know they shouldn't (examples: Taking cold bits of charred wood out of the fireplace to paint themselves and the floor. Opening others' closets and pulling everything out. Emptying the baby wipes to clean themselves, the furniture, their toys, other kids.), it drives me crazy! Even if it's not something that they've previously been told to NOT do, and maybe already been disciplined for that in the past... sometimes they just do things that I don't want them to, because it bugs me.

But these kids do not have to live to please ME.
They are people, and as such I can't control them.
But how do I teach obedience, and what things to I need to let go of in order to love them better and show God better?
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In church one day, after thinking through these things, there was a song that says "Mi mayor deseo es tu presencia; Tu mayor deseo es mi obediencia, y que te aclame" -- "My greatest desire is your presence; Your greatest desire is my obedience, and that I would acclaim/proclaim you."
Obedience. The CHOICE to do what pleases God, not out of fear or duty or control. Freely chosen. Because of love.
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Bibi was gone that weekend, and it was a tough time. There were 7 children in the house. But she needs time off, and friendships, just like I do. So why do I struggle against feeling like it's unfair and unloving for her to leave me alone? I recognize feelings of possessiveness, of jealousy, of "needing to be needed", of co-dependency, and of control. I recognize my life-long desire to be the chosen one, the best friend, the one and only... That always came into play when I felt like a friend or a boy was choosing someone else over me.

But other people -- friends, family, coworkers, the kids -- do not exist to fulfill me or to please me or to meet all of my needs!
So in the name of Jesus I prayed to BLESS Bibi's friendships and free time, to give THANKS for her weekend off, for her days off, for her current and future relationships and the social network that we all need. In prayer, I released her to be my FRIEND, not my SOURCE.
"Otras personas pueden ser un puente, mas no la fuente" -- others can be bridges, but not our source (of emotional fulfillment).
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I see where this is heading. I've invited that all-consuming fire in a little further, into the CONTROL PROBLEM, and it burns a bit! So far he's already ignited some major points:

I can't control God. (He's real and alive! He doesn't want to control me; he wants love-inspired obedience!)

I can't control my peers. (They don't exist to fill my needs. They need others and freedom. They are different than me! They cannot be and do all that I want, nor should they.)

I can't control the kids. (They don't exist to please me. They can't and shouldn't be controlled. How can we teach love-inspired obedience to authorities and to God??? They are KIDS -- don't be too hard on them or too serious!)

Book recommendation

2011-03-28T21:02:00.002-04:00

So this past weekend I had a great time visiting my cousin, Iris, who's living in Barranquilla, on the northern coast of Colombia. (Yes, Shakira's hometown.)
While I was with her, she lent me a book, which I was able to read during my super-chill weekend. Written by Kevin DeYoung, a pastor in the midwest, it's called Just Do Something: A Liberating Approach to Finding God's Will, and I can really recommend it to other Christians who want to live in God's will. He specifically has lots of advice for my peers (twenty- and thirty-somethings wondering about the major decisions -- where to live, what job to take, who to marry), which is both challenging and freeing.

There are many topics it covers that I would love to discuss, but really I just suggest that you read the book, and then maybe we can chat about what you found interesing. However, I do want to share this excerpt, which resonates with me a lot:

"God is all-knowing and all-powerful. He has planned out and works out very detail of our lives -- the joyous days and the difficult -- all for our good (Ecclesiastes 7:14). Because we have confidence in God's will of decree, we can radically commit ourselves to His will of desire, without fretting over a hidden will of direction.

In other words, God doesn't take risks, so we can.

... God promises to be your sun and shied and to carry you and protect with His strong right arm. So we can stop pleading with God to show us the future, and start living and obeying like we are confident that He holds the future." (pp 41, 42)

Oh Israel, put your hope Lord both now and always. (Ps. 131:3)

Let's stop our sins of unbelief and a lack of trust in God. He holds the future, so we don't have to micromanage it.

the purpose of ministry is to change the minister

2011-03-24T23:23:00.002-04:00

The scene:
Tony, Laura and I in my living room, chatting to catch up on the day. Eight children, ages 1-11 in the house. J. in discipline, waiting for me to go talk with him.

Emily: "I have to go talk to J. He's in his room."
Laura (English sarcasm): "Oh, he's not just there for fun"
Emily (gives a quick summary of what happened): "Yeah, the two things that bother me most are a mocking attitude and disrespect."
Tony: "So, why are you working with street kids?"
(laughter)
Emily: "I think God wants to change that in me."
Tony: "And then you can have a NORMAL job!"

Vending Machine or Consuming Fire?

2011-03-16T08:48:00.004-04:00

Someone once told me that an idol is a controllable god. Anything we put in a place of utmost importance, while in reality we maintain ourselves "in charge":
Our "sacrifices" to that god must be met in the timeframe and the manner that we expect, desire, demand. If they're not, then the obvious conclusion is that the offering wasn't worthy and we must do something else: deny ourselves more, fulfill a ritual or vow -- all on terms we've invented or discovered or believed -- until said "god" does what we are requesting.
This puts us in charge, but helpless. Controling and controlled.

But the thing about GOD is that he can't be controlled. Our God is a consuming fire. The only form of controlling a fire is setting boundaries by refusing to feed it more fuel. In the spiritual sense, placing a limit on God, saying "I allow Your involvement in my life to this point, but no further." Our God is a God of invitation, not of obligation. He's a gentleman.

I have a desire to control. Myself, my life, my future, even others....and to turn GOD into a god. If I fast and pray, god has to respond to me. If I ask for a response by Thursday, god must give it. If I willingly suffer, god owes me something I want.

But our God is a consuming fire. He's not a stick of wood, he's not a carved bit of stone or metal cast in a mold. He's alive, not lifeless. He is not a vending machine. If I put in a dollar I can make my selection. If the candy bar gets stuck, it is divinely unjust and I can shake the metal god into releasing my deserved blessing, or if that still doesn't work, I can go to the security guard who has to give me back my dollar. The vending machine is about supply and demand: business. That has NOTHING to do with a living being. The vending machine works on the basis of my needs and my justice. It's all about me. That has NOTHING to do with relationship.

Recently I needed to hear from God about an important decision for the ministry. I didn't feel like he was responding to me, but I was getting frustrated because God knew that I had to tell the team what I had heard from God on Monday. {Umm, Hello! That's called a Deadline, god! Jesus called us his friends, not just servants, because he doesn't hide what he's doing from us. So, if I'm your friend, why won't you tell me anything?! Remember, I need to know! By MONDAY! We need to hear from you so that we can do what you desire and therefore bring you glory! This is a really important decision! What will others think of me if I don't have a clear response?!} But there the focus wan't God being glorified, but rather myself receiving glory for how well I can hear from God... for how well I can manage the vending machine.

God wants relationship -- to know and be known. And, God is a consuming fire. So, when I ask forgivness for my demanding and my attempts to control, I invite that fire further in. What does a fire do? It burns, it warms, and it purifies. When a fire receives more fuel the flame gets hotter. That can be uncomfortable, but what the fire leaves behind is that which is unburnable, unconsumable, permanent. The result is purification.

barefootin'

2011-03-14T21:18:00.004-04:00

Today was beautiful. We sat in the warm grass with no shoes on, playing with the kids for about an hour. The little ones went over to the fence where the cow, Lola, was. She lowered her head to let them pet her and they ran back, squealing with delight, to report the incident. We all played "montonera" (montañera) ... which I think is maybe called "dogpile" in the States...

I just listened to an Avett Brothers' song that my friend Leah posted on her blog -- a song that fifteen-year-old I. said "sounds sad"; a song that reminds me how much I love the banjo; a song that makes me sure that I want to go to the mountains, to Asheville, NC, when I'm home in May/June, and to hopefully hear some live bluegrass music.

On the downside... I think I have a louse (yeah, that's the singular of lice...) running around on my head. At least, I hope it's just one.

2011-02-24T15:57:00.002-05:00

Tuesday was one of those "price of being a mom" nights.
2 1/2 year old M. is sick.
When I to sleep I made her a pallet on the floor next to my bed because in the other room she was already waking up crying and coughing. Between 10:00 and 3:30, I think we woke up at least every half-hour.
She's feeling a lot better now, although not 100%, and I'm almost all recovered from the loss of sleep.

vacation!

2011-02-21T21:20:00.003-05:00

One weekend in February Bibi, Liz, Ingie, and I went away! (Liz and Ingie are two friends who worked with Formando Vidas during my first year here, and have since been in Wales and Canada, respectively. They were here for a visit.) We piled into Ruby "the Beast" and headed out mid-morning on Friday.
"What about the children?" you ask?
Well, Evi and Steve (my directors and neighbors) offered to take care of them for the weekend, with Tony and Laura helping out.
So, being the young, adventurous, single women that we are, we headed across Bogota and grabbed the highway toward Medellin. No, we didn't go THAT far... that's about a ten-hour drive! We just went a couple of hours, to Villeta, where the climate is so different that I was drenched with sweat!
We walked around to find a hotel for maybe a half-hour, then got changed and went to the pool! aaaaaahhh!
Day two, we went white water rafting! The Rio Negro (Black River) really is Negro, because of the rock that the mountains there are made of. The four of us, plus the guide, plus a co-guide, went in a raft together. We jumped out and practiced "rescuing" each other on the calm bits of the river, which turned out to be a good thing because at one big rock, the whole raft flipped over!
After quickly getting out from underneath it, I stuck my feet out in front of me, grabbed my oar, and floated along the fast river. It was great! Definitely worth 45,000 pesos! (about $25?) As we approached some small rapids, I started to get a bit nervous, thinking, "I have to go through that outside of the boat?!" But then I was close to the other raft and they dragged me in, where Liz already was seated. Soon my raft pulled up, and I scrambled across!
Later we got to jump out and swim around a bit, and shortly after that the tour was done! All told, I suppose it lasted only an hour or so. The place we disembarked was in the little town that Mom, Dad, J. and I stayed at when they visited me a eyar and a half ago! We got out of the rafts at the same bridge where my parents and I picked up rocks to take as keepsakes. The guide said that further down the river there are class 5 rapids (where two rivers join, I think), and that crazy american kayak-ers travel there to attempt dangerous maneuvers.
The next day we got up and walked through town to the train tracks. Our mission: to get to the "balneario", the locals' swimming hole. At the tracks we waited for a little cart to arrive that would take us there. It was a platform with three rustic benches and the driver's seat at the back, propelled by a motorcycle motor. We paid 5,000 pesos (less than $3) round-trip and sped through the lush green thickets, stopping a couple of times for carts that were coming toward town to move off the tracks so we could continue on. We stopped by some little houses and a bit of a clearing, arranged for the driver to pick us up in an hour, and walked down the bank to the river.
We were the first ones to arrive that Sunday morning, at quarter-past-nine. Only a few people who live there and sell snacks to the bathers were setting up their chairs and starting fires to cook corn on the cob. Wading up to our ankles, knees, through the strongest part of the current where Ingie fell down and we all died laughing... we went right up to the "falls" and one by one, stuck our heads under the water, feeling the cold weight of it pounding down on us.
Soon it was time to head back to town on the little motorcart, get our things ready, and drive back to Bogota.

2011-02-14T22:23:00.003-05:00

Sunday at church, we take up a whole row of seats, practically. During the music time, in a song that sounds very moving and while all of the people in the congregation raising their hands and closing their eyes, I sit with three small children (trying to keep some kind of order and not be a distraction to everyone around us). I look over at Li'l J and what is he doing?
His eyes closed and head slightly inclined, with a little smile on his mouth, he's swaying back and forth and doing an over-exaggerated slow clap!
My first thought is to make him stop, because he'll bother the others. But almost immediately I realize how ridiculously over-spiritual the whole situation is, and burst out laughing with J., who actually feels the freedom to mock our evangelical culture. Of course, trying to get over the giggles is difficult for both of us, and the lady in the next row shoots us a dirty look, but it's worth it.
(I'm not saying that the song is bad or anything, just that we take ourselves too seriously. God laughs, people!)

After church we go to the parent visit. It is pretty good, actually, but so emotionally and spiritually charged that when we leave I feel like I need to cry.
If the visit affects ME that much, how must the kids feel??

arm hairs and rain

2011-02-12T21:50:00.005-05:00

Today we had a cook-out, up at the fire ring at the cutest little cabin ever, where Tony and Laura live.
My arm hairs got half-singed off when I stretched out to put an arepa on the grill. That was a new experience!

About a week ago I asked Evi when it would start raining again... we'd been in "summer" -- the dry season, when it's hot and sunny in the day and so cloudless and clear and cold at night that I sometimes lost sleep just to look out my window at the stars. She said that it's normally around March, but since it rained all through December, maybe the dry spell will last longer this year.
Guess she was mistaken!

2011-02-08T17:29:00.002-05:00

I'm getting used to driving "the beast"! Yesterday I drove in the city for the first time... I was nervous about switching lanes and there were a couple of crazy motorcyclists, including a wheelchair-laden 3-wheeled moto.... that was weird!
I honked the horn like any respectable bogotano when driving, and Tony only did the "invisible brakes" once! All told, we're doing pretty well!

the purpose of ministry

2011-02-01T19:32:00.004-05:00

That last post was Saturday, the start of a new "spiritual crisis."
I read my friend's comments to a post and started thinking about what I have been idolizing; what do I have in the number one place in my heart.

Just like Abraham, who skewed his love from the promise-giver (God) to the fulfillment of the promise (Isaac), I realize that I have been holding onto my vision/dream/plans/passion/hope for the future more than I should.
Well, in talking to Evi, my director (the conversation was going to be about something else, but it ended up all coming out), she said that God planted a seed when I was a child... He put this dream in me when I was innocent and sensitive, and he began to water it at the right times, and to wait like a farmer (Isaiah 55:10-11, James 5:7) for its growth and the eventual crop. But then, she said, as it starts to grow we begin to prune it and form it into our desires, our design... like a brutal bonsai artist, or a child with scissors cutting her own hair.

On Saturday I realized how much I have been hanging my IDENTITY on what I DO. Who I am is not based on what I do. My value is not founded on my ministry, my job, others' opinions, my own opinion of myself and my estimation of how well I do what I do.
I was brought to the point of asking, "Why do I do what I do?"
If my being here is not, as I thought, a step in the ladder toward my ultimate goal or life-plan, then why on earth am I here? If I'm never going to reach the image I have in mind, then what's the point? Why am I doing this? But what else could I possibly do?? I was trapped, visionless, drifting: miserable and confused.

Sunday night Martin Smith, former Delirious? frontman, was at a small local church to sing a few songs and share a bit. There were fewer than 100 people. It was a super-intimate time... I felt like I was at an open-mic night with the man behind the voice that I sing along with on CDs.
He shared about his past year, since the band disbanded. How, at the age of 40, he found himself at home a lot more, with no job, no ministry, no... purpose, identity... Asking the hard questions of where his value comes from and what the point of his existence is. What defines me?

Martin's main point:
I will find out WHO I AM only by coming close to Jesus... in his light.
and the key word? SURRENDER

How does the Holy Spirit do it?! Set things up for me to meet God and receive the words of Truth in the timeliest moment!?
That night when I got home I couldn't go to sleep (which is really rare for me). I stayed up writing and praying for a while. I remembered that a few weeks back I met an "agnostic physicist"-turned-"Christian missionary to Colombia for 18 years." This charismatic man said to me, THREE TIMES,
"God showed me that the main purpose of ministry is to change the minister."
Sure, at the time, I knew it was true, or at least a part of the purpose. But these past few days are proving his statement to be more true.

I need to know who I am. Maybe God isn't asking me to KILL my passion and vision, but rather MY CONCEPT of how it should be done. God doesn't need my help. He wants me to know him.

daughter of faith

2011-01-29T16:51:00.002-05:00

How did Abraham do it?

How??

How could he sacrifice his son, the son of the promise, the first light of the fulfillment of his hopes and dreams and the promises of God?

I want to believe, to trust, beyond understanding. Beyond sight. Beyond reason.

I WANT to be able to sacrifice the dreams I'm holding onto as tight as, or tighter, than I hold onto God, just like Abraham loved Isaac more than anything else.
But what does that leave me with? I feel like I don't even know what he's promised me if I give that up...

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' says the Lord. 'Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you a future and a hope.'" Jer. 29:11
and
"I will never abandon you."

...those are the two that I'd still have.

Do I beleive that He is enough? Can I be Abraham's daughter?

idols and idolatry

2011-01-25T19:40:00.003-05:00

it's a subject that I feel like God speaks to me about fairly regularly. No, I don't have any little statues, no shrines, no plates of food or offerings of money or other valuables left for another god. But an idol is anything that I try to use to fill God's place. When I feel spiritually hungry, where do I turn? To food? To other people? To dreaming about my future? To anything other than Jesus? ...it's an idol, then.
The difficult things are these:
I don't have something physical that I can destroy. No idol, no temple, no symbol of what I'm worshipping.
How do I love people and love what I do and love the God-given dreams I have... without putting them in the place of greatest importance, which only He can fill?

To God be the glory... not to me, not to anything else.
So, living in the present... not idolizing any hopes of future, not grasping to my dreams. Loving with an open hand. Waiting patiently. Trusting that He Who Sees knows better than these deceitful eyes and this deceitful heart. Living as Israel -- struggler -- and learning to put my confidence in the Lord.

Learning to "hang the weight of my soul" on the only One who can sustain it.

Yesterday I bought my driver's license.

2011-01-22T18:35:00.004-05:00

That's right. Bought it.
I had to go show my documents and pay some money, take a psychological test in which I could only answer "si" or "no" -- NOT Emily's kind of test! -- take hearing and vision exams, and then a computerized test which made me wish I had played more video games in my life. Then I had to catch a bus, walk about 20 blocks (when, according to the address I thought was only going to be 5 blocks...), give a digital fingerprint, and go back to the first place I was at (where they did the exams). Then I had to wait a bit, have a minimal medical exam by a doctor who wore too much jewelry (but when I found myself thinking "you get paid way to much" I had to remind myself that Jesus loves him, too), go make some photocopies, stand in line, turn in my documents and get a picture taken, then go pay some more money.
By this point it was 3:00 pm. I had left the office at 11:00 am. When they told me that I needed to wait another hour to receive my license, I couldn't take it anymore! I was hungry, tired, and felt guilty for not being in the house to help Bibiana all day long. Hopefully I'll go back on Monday to pick it up, and then I can learn to drive all over again... The thought of driving in Bogota scares me a bit!

.Love.

2011-01-18T17:07:00.002-05:00

We had orientation, to kick off the year. God spoke to us, as individuals and as a ministry. He's inviting us back to leading lives of prayer, intercession, listening to his voice, and waiting for his direction. Inviting us back to holiness and to the fear of the Lord. To repentance and obedience. Glorifying God and living in his presence. What an invitation!

Clemencia, a good friend and wise woman here in the ministry shared something that struck home in my spirit. She said that, years ago, she told God, "I don't believe that You love me." And He replied, "I love you." For two years she asked God WHY he loves her, and "What do I have to do for you to love me?" And for two years, he replied, "I love you." She told him, "Don't be stupid." And again and again he responded, "I love you."

I heard this the day after I'd cried when I said, alone, "I need to believe that I'm worth pursuing!" And again, I saw the God-shaped hole, and my own inability to fill it, and the imposibility that anyone else can fill that need... Immediately TRUTH said "I AM worthy of being pursued... because Jesus did!"
Before listening to Clemencia, my impulse was to put life on hold, waiting to 'get it right' and truly believe that God loves me, to be filled up to all fullness with that heart-knowledge. But maybe I will need those two years (or whatever amount of time... a lifetime...) to hear Jesus tell me over and over again, "I love you."
There's nothing I can do to make him love me more or less. I am loved. So instead of punishing myself because I don't get it, I'll just live my life... and wait to be continuously surprised by the passionate pursuit of my creator, my father, the author of my faith, my savior, my friend.

You are loved. So if you find that you're trying to earn God's love, just give up! You already have it! Why is it so difficult to receive what is already ours?

in time

2011-01-11T21:56:00.004-05:00

You know, I really want to ENJOY life.

Yeah, there will always be routine, and in fact, I often like the routine. It makes the out-of-the-ordinary more special and... enjoyable. So I'm not demanding or even expecting constant giddiness, happiness, glee. Life is a cycle. My director here at Formando Vidas says to remember, in the dark moments, that there will be an upswing... and likewise, in the best of times, to remember that "this too shall pass."

What is it about living in the present that I find so difficult? What do I want? I don't KNOW what I want! Maybe that's the problem?

Our 14-year-old is planning her quinceañera (like a sweet 16 party, but at 15 in latino culture). She has said for years that she doesn't want a fancy party, doesn't want the typical -- an elegant dress, a dinner, to dance the waltz. Yesterday she decided that she does, in fact, want a dress and a party, but she hasn't expressed what she wants to do. Bibiana told her that she needs to be very specific because if not, she will have a big expectation and will be inevitably let down because we can't read her mind.
But maybe her mind isn't made up.

I think I'm just a bit tired of washing clothes and cooking and telling small children not to fight over toys and to please close the door for the umpteenth time and to eat all of their food and to not bother each other.

But the six o'clock sky was beautiful today. The clouds touching the western mountains were tinged with the burnished color of pure light, the color of the face of God. Above them streched out Apollo's trail, a band of pink clouds widening and dispersing where the sun had ridden his chariot down to the horizon. His wake was converted into a train for his cold bride; the half-moon directly overhead sat awaiting the dark and her glory, her slow procession down the aisle, flanked by millions of twinkling attendants.

I laughed at its magnificence and stood still, wide-eyed. And as I breathed the fresh air and took the last of the day's wash off of the drying fence, I spoke aloud Solomon's words, "He has made everything beautiful in its own time."

So I want to see, to appreciate, to live, to enjoy that beauty and that timing. My God is a joyful being. No student is greater than her teacher, but when her training is completed, she will be LIKE her master. Growing in joyfulness...

They were the children of no way out...

2011-01-09T21:33:00.003-05:00

The craziness of Christmas and New Years passed, and we felt exhausted! We hadn't had our weekly day off for a few weeks, plus the kids are on vacation so they're ALL AT HOME ALL THE TIME! Long story short, we needed to get away!

It almost didn't happen. We were hoping to leave Tuesday morning, but Monday night we still hadn't heard anything from one of the moms, and we were keeping all three of her children. She had dropped them off on Friday, to keep them out of their home environment for the New Year's festivities (i.e., drunken parties). But when we never heard anything from her, and she didn't show up to get them, and we couldn't get in touch with her, we began to worry. And we also began to doubt the possibilities of our family vacation. But our neighbors here on the farm insisted on receiving the three kids, and we left Tuesday morning as planned! (We still haven't heard from her, and the kids are still with us... if we HADN'T gotten out of town, I can't imagine how we'd be right now. God knows what we need, and is gracious!)

We all piled in Tony and Laura's 33-year-old Nissan and hit the road for Chinauta! Our reservation turned out to not be what we'd expected, so we walked around looking for another place to rent, and got immeasurably more than we'd asked or imagined! A house, all to ourselves, in a gated community (Bibi says that type of rental house used to belong to narcotrafficers! That puts an exciting new spin on our vacation home!), with a private swimming pool and with tons of fruit trees and an outdoor kitchen/grill/eating area! And the price was almost exactly the same as the place we had booked! It was perfect... Did I mention the hammock?

One afternoon, lying in the hammock, I sipped an iced coffee and watched the kids in the pool as the sun filtered down through palm leaves. Seeing the joy on their faces and hearing the peals of laughter accompanied by the splashing, I was struck with gratefulness.

God snatched these children out of their situations and is blessing them. Children of solitude, who were left alone for too long too young, who were born of their mothers' loneliness; children of the streets and of lives of scavenging; children of prostitution; children of pain and sorrow; children of acoholism and drug abuse; children of verbal, physical, sexual abuse; children of attempted abortions; the children of no way out.
These children are only here by the grace and goodness of God, their Daddy.
And we, the staff, are only here by the invitation and provision of that same good, gracious, loving Father.
Hot country, vacation, the pool, the perfect house with the hammock, family, relationship with God, a future... that is what he's allowing me to be part of for his children in Colombia.

bff!

2011-01-09T21:26:00.003-05:00

this is what best friends do! thanks, mary!!! LOVE IT!

Two Thousand Eleven

2011-01-02T20:37:00.002-05:00

Here's to another year.
I brought it in at my house, on the farm, in the mountains of La Calera, Colombia.
I ushered it in along with kids, teens, and young adults, and with staff members new and old.
At my house we had finger foods -- mini pumpkin pies, hummus, and the like -- and a costume dance party. I was the Christmas tree, plugged in and all. My lights flashed and my ornaments fell off, along with the majority of my pine needles, as I danced the night away.
Just before midnight, we went up to the other house to sit around the bonfire and watch the fireworks. They burned the "old year" -- an effigy made of old clothes stuffed with straw or branches. His head fell off into the coals. The best fireworks of them all were the stars. Orion and the seven sisters and myriad of others whose names I never knew.

This year will be different, but it will also be the same. I will continue learning and living the processes and progressions that began while we were using the pages of other calendars, a system created by men long gone, enumerating our lives so we think we can start over every 365 days.

I awoke on 1/1/11 to a beautiful blue sky... (part of who I am for God -- sunny blue sky!)... went to take the baby out of the crib and lay him in my bed, where we cuddled for about an hour and I read, until Li'l J. woke up and came in to greet us, fresh after his midnight tantrums. (Small children shouldn't stay up so late!)

This may be my verse for the year:
"He will be the sure foundation for your times, a rich store of salvation and wisdom and knowledge; the fear of the LORD is the key to this treasure [is a treasure from him]." Isaiah 33:6
"El sera la seguridad de tus tiempos, te dara en abundancia salvacion, sabiduria y conocimiento; el temor del señor sera tu tesoro."

A SURE foundation. Unmoving, stable, definite, without doubts, strong.
wisdom and knowledge -- I need more and more! he has a rich store of them both, for me!
the fear [respect, honor, submission and obedience to above all others] the LORD is the key to this treasure, and the treasure itself.

I think that learning about the fear of the Lord was one of the biggest things I learned in 2010.... and deciding to live in it. I predict that in 2011 the fear of the Lord will continue to be my treasure, and to bring more blessing to my life. I have a sure foundation.

Happy new year, everybody. The same divine invitation is open to you all.

M

2010-12-12T21:07:00.001-05:00

Today he came to the visit.
The eldest brother.
The only one not under the care and protection of the ministry (not for lack of desire on our part).
We saw seeds of bitterness, sprouting resentment, and an ever-more-quickly-growing hardness: a shell of protection from all the rejection.
And it became clear to me that, the person who takes him in, as Rebecca and I did with J., has to be a man.
J. first needed a mother figure, a mother’s love. But M. needs a father. Can’t trust women yet. They have all betrayed him, have never fulfilled what they should’ve done and been. Also, he needs the firmness of male authority.

God, provide!
“The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread.” (Isaiah 51:14)

Again, I choose to believe this promise that God gave me for M. He is the Lord. In its time, he will do this swiftly. (Is. 60:22)

Love.Hope.Risk.

2010-12-12T21:00:00.002-05:00

Today was the Parent Visit. The Monthly Parent Visit. The Christmas Parent Visit.
Emotions were running high. There is an intensity, a tension, that comes along with foster care and the relationship that the children have with their families.
Yesterday afternoon I was going to lie down for a much-needed rest for a little while. The small children were sleeping, and the older girls had some vacation homework to do. I told L., “I’m going to rest. When you finish this section, remember that you need to make a card for your mom. It was her birthday last week.”

I don’t know why I announce my intentions to rest. It seems like whenever I do, it backfires. These kids don’t want me to sleep, or what?

“But why bother if she didn’t even come to the last two visits…” she mumbled.
“She’s your mom and it was her birthday. Besides, she knows that tomorrow is the visit and is going to be there.”
“Are you sure?” she challenged. I couldn’t guarantee her, because her mom spends most of her time on the streets and has little concept of what day it is. But Bibiana saw her recently and the mom did pledge to be at the next visit. “I don’t know why I have to make her a card if she doesn’t even go.”
“I know it hurts, L., but do you know why she said she didn’t go the last two months?” I started, but she was having nothing of it.
The answer, which Bibi had already explained to L. (after the mother told her), is that she’s embarrassed to go without any gift for her pre-teen daughter. Not even a bag of chips. She typically works all day just to pay her daily expenses: her pieza -- the room she stays at, paying a minimal fee per night to have a bed and a place to keep her things -- and a little something to eat. L's mom needs to know that her presence is more important than bringing a gift, but L needs to help her understand by not always asking what she brought.
“I don’t know why you all always have to be like that…” L. covered her ears with her hands to keep from hearing reason. “Fine! I’ll make the card, but if she doesn’t show, I don’t care! Yes, I do care--”
“If she doesn't show up, it will hurt, but it’s important, L.”
Tensions mounted, I sent her to her room to calm down, and went to mine.
We both cried.
Goodbye, nap time.

But after a few minutes I heard her leave to continue with homework, and I kept talking with God, and started reading. At one point I left my room for something and saw her making the birthday card. After re-reading a chapter from a book – one of the times it makes me glad that I pack heavy and bring books – I wrote L. a letter.
I told her how brave she is for making that card, for choosing to love, for choosing to hope, for risking that much. I translated and paraphrased part of Rob Bell’s book, Sex God, where he talks about just that, the risk of loving.

“The story the Bible tells is of a living being who loves and who continues to love even when that love is not returned. A God who refuses to override our freedom, who respects our power to decide whether to reciprocate, a God who lets us make the next move.
Love is handing your heart to someone and taking the risk that they will hand it back because they don’t want it. That’s why it’s such a crushing ache on the inside. We gave away a part of ourselves and it wasn’t wanted. …
Jesus is God coming to us in love. Sheer unadulterated, unfiltered love. Stripped of everything that could get in the way. Naked and vulnerable, hanging on a cross, asking the question, “What will you do with me?” …
The cross is God’s way of saying, “I know what it’s like.” …
This can transform our experience of heartbreak. … If God can continue to risk, then maybe we can too.”

When we love much, when we hope much, it hurts much.
1 Corinthians 13:7 says that love ALWAYS HOPES.
Hopes against hope, against all reason, against all odds, against past mistakes.
That’s why it’s so scary -- so scary to hope, so scary to love. We know that there is a very high probability that we will end up hurt. But Bell also says, “The cross is where we present our wounds to God and say, ‘Here, you take them.’”

I choose hope.

By the way, when we arrived to the visit today, L.’s mom, dad, and older sister were all there waiting for us.
It was still hard for her to visibly express her joy and relief. But sometimes, Hope wins, Faith brings joy, Love is worth it.

"I am not angry."

2010-12-12T20:58:00.001-05:00

Sitting by the creek, I asked without words what my problem was;
Both wanted and didn’t want a response.
Hoped that the river’s music would soothe my soul like David’s harp;
That I wouldn’t have to ask the hard questions, nor face the facts.
Knew that when I awoke earlier, I asked a question and received an answer:
What do I need to walk?
What do I need to get rid of in order to walk it?

Idols and idolatry.

I only read Isaiah 27 because that’s where I had left off the last time, but
The Word of God is full of life,
always applicable,
a double-edged sword.

“Sing about a fruitful vineyard:
I, the LORD, watch over it.
I water it continually.
I guard it day and night
So that no one may harm it.

I AM NOT ANGRY.

If only there were briers and thorns confronting me!
I would march against them in battle;
I would set them all on fire.
Or else let them come to me for refuge;
Let them make peasce with me,
Yes, let them make peace with me.
…
By this then, will Jacob’s guilt be atoned for,
And this will be the FULL FRUITAGE of the removal of his sin:
When he makes all the altar stones
to be like chalk stones crushed to pieces,
no Asherah poles or incense altars
will be left standing.”

One:
GOD IS NOT ANGRY.
I am angry. With myself more than with anyone else. For not being able to live in the present. For not obeying, for my own good. For forgetting again. For having habits that are hard to break.
But God is not angry with me.
I’m not sure what his emotion is… sadness? Wistfulness? Jealous desire?
God is not angry!
Maybe I can forgive myself as well, stop being angry at myself for not being perfect.
Two:
The FULL FRUITAGE of the removal of sin.
In other words: Yes, I’m already forgiven.
But I still have action to take for my atonement to be complete: Getting rid of idols and idolatry.
It would be a lot easier for me if they were physical idols. A statue, a possession…
If I were Hindu, it wouldn’t be easy though. It wasn’t any easier for the Israelites to get rid of their stone altars, because we all truly believe that we NEED our idols.

I live in the mountains.

2010-12-09T16:00:00.003-05:00

I live in the mountains. Beautiful, green mountains that play with the clouds passing by. Within walking distance of a lovely creek, full of boulders and icy water and bordered by trees and moss and flowers. Half-an-hour from a city that is home to more people than live in my entire state of origin, and to which I can easily arrive on public transportation.
I live in the mountains, and I always wanted to live in the mountains. That means some rainy days, which means mud. It means being a bit isolated and maybe feeling out of touch with the rest of the population sometimes. It means amazing views out of my windows.
I live in the mountains, and I want to fully appreciate that. To take advantage of the glory all around me. Today I went to said creek, with the intention of doing nothing other than sitting on a big rock for a while, which I did. (Unfortunately, I have some fears about being alone in nature now... the residual effect of being mugged over a year ago.) I tried to get out to a few different rocks, but wasn't able to, due to the size of the stream after recent rains. I crossed over the log bridge to look for another rock, reached it, and stayed a while.

I live in the mountains and I have a good God. I hope to make more frequent trips to the river, to hear the sound of rushing waters, like the sound of the voice of God. Somedays, like this one, will be when I feel sad. Other days, I hope, will be only to enjoy it and spend time with my Father. To bless his heart and enjoy his presence.

The spring that never fails

2010-11-28T20:42:00.002-05:00

"The LORD will guide you always, he will satisfy you in a sun-scorched land and strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, a stream whose water never fails." Isaiah 58:11

This morning I stood in church and listened to the songs, realizing that, beyond just being tired, I've gotten out of balance this week. Have I been avoiding God? Or just too busy doing, or to tired from doing, to set apart the time I need in order to be in relationship with the spring that never fails.

I rejected my spring of living water and dug a cracked cistern, that doesn't hold water.

This was the first time since being back from the DTS that I felt dry... in a sun-scorched land? I turn back to the spring. He will strengthen me, even when I'm tired. He will satisfy me; I'm not meant to live just getting by. ABUNDANT LIFE is what I want, and what he's offering!

Thanksgiving!

2010-11-27T17:42:00.003-05:00

Reasons why this is the best holiday:
Roast turkey + gravy + potatoes + stuffing + cranberry sauce + green bean casserole + tossed salad + waldorf salad + coleslaw + yams + corn + spinach + bread.
BREATHER in the form of playing Apples to Apples.
Then:
Pumpkin pie + apple pie + peach cobbler + chocolate cream pie + coffee.

Mix this with a lot of people, and it's hard to beat!
The only thing missing was the red wine, my grandma's cranberry relish, and more pumpkin pie on my plate!

Christmas is a close second because:
It's an entire month, not just a day. There is lots of decoration. It has its own music! More awesome food. More time with family and friends.

Hooray for Thanksgiving and Christmas!

The American Dream

2010-11-19T10:19:00.002-05:00

I remember when I wanted the American Dream.
To be "happily married" with a house, kids, and a white picket fence. I remember once when (a friend) said he'd totally marry (another friend of ours) and that she would really be into THAT picturesque life. And I thought to myself, "Don't you see that's what I want, too??"

And not that I've given it up... I've just seriously tweaked the idea.

I always thought that I would get married as soon as I graduated from college. That was my dream. But I didn't even know what I wanted at that point. Do I now?

When I see pictures of my peers, of former classmates and summer-camp friends, married with a couple of kids, and happy, there IS a part of me that wants that. But I want it here, in Colombia. Or I want it more mobile. I want it less-traditional -- with a menagerie of children-seeking-family, just like I seek family.
Yes, I have family, but is it enough? And they're far away. (Yes, this has been my choice, but I still miss them and still need family.) The ministry I'm a part of is supposed to be a "family ministry", but that should mean for me, for the staff as well, not only for the kids we take care of.

If I were living at "home" in the States, married, with a house and a couple of children... would I wonder what happened to my dreams?
If I had married when I graduated from college, single and unsure what my dreams were, I probably would not be here right now. And at some point, either now or in another twenty-five years, I probably would feel frustrated.

And maybe my friend could see, even before I knew it, that I would not be satisfied with that life. That, ever since God first spoke to me about mothering abandonded children, while I was still a child, I've carried that dream inside me. That I would have to follow that calling, to transform the "family model" I've known, to let God shape something out of this clay that will really be both beautiful and useful, not frustrated and little. To start from scratch, to take me to my full potential, even when I would've been okay with all I'd ever known.

This crazy dream I'm living is not the typical rendition of the American Dream. But in the sense of chasing your passion and making it happen... it is.

I honestly cannot imagine myself doing anything else at this point. Therefore I don't think it's insane, although it may seem that way to others.
Difficult? most definitely.
Worth it? that is my hope.
Enjoyable? I want to enjoy every day, as I wait to see how this American's Dreams will take shape in the future.

I'm pressing on...

2010-11-15T13:34:00.002-05:00

Waiting.
Joy.
Prayer and meditation.
Activism. Hyperactivism.
Intercessory prayer: Standing in the gap for others.
Agape.

At least I'm growing. In motion. If we ever stop moving, life would be extremely boring. Not that I always move FORWARD, progress. And not that I go in the direction I want to... sometimes I think that's the most frustrating bit. What I set my mind to do, but then can't do because I have to learn and it's a process... or what I wish I could do, but the doors are closed to me... or what I want to grow in, but don't want to have to pass through the process.

The Desire for Immediate Gratification and the Idea that This Will Make Me Happy
vs.
Joy in the Process of Learning and Growing

What IS joy?
The joy of the Lord is our strength.
Jesus told us that we are loved, and we can remain in the Father's presence in order to make our joy complete.
Delight yourself in the Lord.
Hephzibah: My delight is in her. I am God's delight... ?!!
Let us fix our eyes on Jesus... who for the joy set before him endured the cross.

Hosea 6:3
"Let us acknowledge (KNOW) the LORD;
let us press on to acknowledge (to KNOW) him.
As surely as the sun rises,
he will appear;
he will come to us like the winter rains,
like the spring rains that water the earth"

present tense

2010-11-10T22:42:00.003-05:00

I went away last weekend to a town called Anolaima. I wanted to swim and ride horses or at least a bike, to walk all over and do do do as much as possible in a short amount of time... but it rained. Which, it turned out, is what I really wanted and needed, because I got to sleep! I stayed with two friends, didn't have to sleep alone, woke up at 9:00(!), sat in a rocking chair and sketched a dying tree and prayed and RESTED. How wonderful that rest is just another beautiful part of God's creation!

Revelation during that time off: When I live thinking about the future I never actually enjoy that future when it arrives, because I'm immediately contemplating (or stressing) about the NEXT future!
Therefore, I am a few days into breaking this bad habit and learning to live in the present. How long will it take to break a 25-year-old bad habit and replace it with a good one?
When God spoke to me in Jeremiah 29, I felt him say "Live your Life, in the time and place where I have you! Don't hold back waiting for the future you long for!" That's when I wanted to cry, even though it was good to know God was answering my prayers. Tonight at small group (there's another answer to prayer... we're starting to get together to pray and encourage each other here at the farm!), Tony prayed thanking God that His will isn't only good for Him, it's also good for us. That is truly amazing. I choose to trust it, even when it goes against my will and wishes for immediate gratification.
Revelation brings conviction brings action. I don't necesarily know HOW to do this, but that's okay. In fact, I think that's part of the point... less self-sufficiency, more relying on God.

I apologize to the grammar nerds who thought that this post would be all in present tense. That would've been clever of me, but not as natural. :P

consequences

2010-10-30T18:51:00.002-04:00

Parenting is difficult. I know that's not a new idea, but it's becoming more and more real in my life.
We set rules and guidelines, and the decisions that the kids make bring them consequences, whether positive or negative. For example, L. didn't do her homework and her chore in time, so she didn't get to watch the movie. Bummer.

Li'l J. went into our bathroom (again) and filled up the liquid soap dispenser with water (again). Since it doesn't seem to make a difference that we've told him several times that he can't play with water, filling things with water (the toothpaste tube, the toothbrush holder, our soap dispenser...), he got a "pow pow". Bummer.

The older girls have an opportunity to earn an allowance every week, if they do all the chores we ask them to do (things like making their beds, doing their homework, helping take out the trash... basic stuff), and if they remind us to check off their list so we can all see what they've done and not. But when they don't tell us "Look, I cleaned up the bathroom, please check off the list" then they don't earn as much money. Bummer.

When I have to confront a kid for lying, or for not doing homework, or for disobeying, I have to follow through with the negative consequences promised. Plus, they lose our trust. Bummer.

When I speak in frustration and stress, it affects the kids and then we don't make any positive progress... except, I suppose, that I get another opportunity to learn about humility, apologizing, and working on relationship and communication.

"Day Off" collage

2010-10-22T23:40:00.005-04:00

Hot chocolate, bread and butter, cheese.
Cool and rainy outside; the buses and taxis pass by.
Warm and ivory inside; a booth to myself; pictures of Bogota in days gone by.

Day after difficulties; the tip of the iceburg pierced deep, leaving a hole.
Pen on paper; deep cries out to deep.
Failure? Purpose? Calling?: Questions.

Jeremiah 29:4-14.
Almost-tears in a downtown cafe.

"I've seen enough to know you're my only hope, I don't want to go... if you're not with me." -Chris Tomlin

Beautiful

2010-10-15T23:49:00.002-04:00

This song, by Bethany Dillon, expresses the "existential anguish" that I sometimes feel and the only satisfactory answer to this struggle:

"I was so unique
Now I feel skin deep
I count on the make-up to cover it all
Crying myself to sleep cause I cannot keep their attention
I thought I could be strong
But it's killing me

Does someone hear my cry?
I'm dying for new life

I want to be beautiful
Make you stand in awe
Look inside my heart,
and be amazed
I want to hear you say
Who I am is quite enough
Just want to be worthy of love
And beautiful
...
Sometimes I wish I was someone other than me
Fighting to make the mirror happy
Trying to find whatever is missing
Won't you help me back to glory
...
You make me beautiful
You make me stand in awe
You step inside my heart, and I am amazed
I love to hear You say
Who I am is quite enough
You make me worthy of love and beautiful."

In church last Sunday the pastor spoke about orphanhood versus son/daughterhood. The mentality of an orphan is that you have to EARN love. It is the spirit behind guilt-based works and life. This spiritual orphanhood, even for those who are God's adopted children (John 1:12 -- to all who believe he gives the right to become children of God), inhibits our fullness of life and our freedom to be ourselves.
If you haven't already self-identified with any of this (as I did as soon as the pastor started speaking!), ask yourself this question:
Do I feel loved, accepted, and valued for who I am, just as I am?

The TRUTH is that we are.
But to what point have we believed the lie, and let the brokenness become part of us, until we think that it's just natural and there's no way of escaping the orphanhood?

Holy Spirit, keep shining, bringing to light the lies that are so cleverly disguised. And break them! Replace them! Transform us through the renewal of our minds...

le'ts put that theory in action...

2010-10-08T23:15:00.005-04:00

Over the last few years, I've come across a couple of author's theories that really impacted me. They've come back to mind lately, so I thought I'd review them here:

1. Living ontologically
Obviously, this is where my blog title came from, and I got it from a book by Madeleine L'Engle, called "A Circle of Quiet."
Ontology is the study of the very BEING of something. In her book she mentions Moses and the burning bush, and how God was able to use the bush because it was BEING ALL THAT IT WAS MADE TO BE, no more and no less.
That is the goal.
This week I started reading the gospel of John again, and John the Baptist stood out to me as someone who really got it. When they asked him who he was and when they told him that Jesus was baptizing (aka. he's threatening your ministry, taking your place, making you less special and unique) J the B wasn't ashamed. He stated, "I'm the voice of one calling in the wilderness 'prepare the way of the Lord'." Nothing more, nothing less. "Just" a voice. Being exactly what he was created to be.

2. Life boat theory
This comes from a book by Donald Miller, called "Searching for God Knows What." His premise is that most of us, most of the time, live with the feeling that we have to prove ourselves worthy of acceptance and love and life. Therefore we try to use our looks or our abilities or our actions to impress others so they'll say we're good enough.
Imagine a shipwreck, and all the passengers ended up on the lifeboat, but there are not enough provisions for everyone to survive. Who gets thrown overboard and who gets to live? How do you decide?
We all think that we have to prove ourselves, or we'll be cast off and drown.
But Jesus came to invite us to a new "theory" -- not a new way to make sure to stay alive in the lifeboat, but rather to abandon ship.

This life is not a competition.
Trying to compete is exhausting and disappointing. I will never feel fulfilled and loved if I'm trying to prove myself worthy of it, or if I'm trying to make everyone happy, or if I'm trying to be the best at everything. That's what's so beautiful about Jesus: "God showed his love for us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ dies for us." ... "And it is a gift, it is not of yourselves, lest any men should boast."
'I love you I love you I love you I love you,' is what He says, 'and it has nothing to do with your performance. I will never throw you overboard because THERE IS NO LIFEBOAT.'

i can't.

2010-09-28T23:33:00.002-04:00

I can’t do everything that I want to do. No puedo hacer todo lo que quiero hacer.
It had nothing to do with the cake, this hiding in the bathroom and crying. It was about doing, and feeling unable to keep up. About not being self-sufficient. About needing more than a week to get back into the swing of things, plus the extra work from my new responsibilities. The fact that someone else had done something I planned to do, something I was capable of (cut the cake I brought to share at the meeting) just triggered the tears. I don’t like depending on others, but we’re called to live in community. Self-sufficiency is NOT a kingdom quality.

I want to really help, to really work, to really do all that I’m expected to. One problem there: I’ve been trying to do more than what I’m expected to, what I’ve been asked to do so far. All my life, I’ve struggled with others’ expectations. Problem: Those very “expectations” are usually what I imagine others are thinking, and can be way off-base. So, the stress I feel from others’ expectations is actually something I bring upon myself. It seems like I can’t meet my own expectations. They don’t expect me to be all of the kids’ favorite, or to do everything and never need help, or to remember everything, or to be able to keep the house immaculate.

And then, let’s get to (one) root of this problem: I’m called to BE first, and later, to DO… the stress comes into play when I get that turned around and focus on all that I have to do.

So I sat on the floor, wanting to run away, feeling like a failure because I can’t do all that others do; I can’t even do all that I did seven months ago. Crying from the frustration, from the self-condemnation, from the lies that I’m not good enough. Crying until I got to the point of saying, “I just need to BE for a while… just let me BE with You.” Until I could hear the truth that God brought me here so I’m good enough. Not because of what I can do, not because of what I know, but because He wants me here. And he wants me with Him. He just wants me to BE with Him. That, I can do. His grace is sufficient for me, for His power is made perfect in my weakness. So I will boast in my weakness, and boast in Christ, to His glory.

The next day? We walked all the way to L.’s school for a parent-teacher conference only to find that the teacher had left by the time we got there. When we arrived at the house, the washing machine water had spilled onto the floor, the toddler was crying, and the strong sun we’d had all morning long, that was going to dry the clothes I was washing, disappeared behind rain clouds for the rest of the day.

Oh well! Time to read, to pray, to play guitar, to cook, to clean, to be together with the kids. Time to be. There is a time for everything.

I return, victorious!

2010-09-23T22:29:00.002-04:00

I return to the world of blogspot.
I return to Bogota, Colombia.
I return to being a foster mom.

I return, but I am not the same...

Finishing the DTS felt like a victory, like an accomplishment. Leaving Pichilemu was signing off on a wonderful chapter of my story. Returning to Bogota was dreamlike and joyful.

Things have changed, but not as visibly as I expected. It feels... normal... to be here. Almost as though I'd never left.

I've completed one week back. It flew like a dove with a startled flutter and a whistle of wings, as I jumped back into ministry.
I went from one foster child to four, full-time, and as many as 7 on the weekends. Yes, it is different, and difficult, but I'm not alone anymore. Somehow one, on my own, was harder than all of those between two of us.
Two are better than one... A cord of three strands is not easily broken...

I have returned, but I am not the same.
Yes, I still struggle.
Yes, I still have the same weaknesses.
Yes, it's a process and I'm learning and growing.
But I am confident that he who begain the good work in me will carry it on to the day of completion (phil. 1). And his grace is sufficient for me, for his power is made perfect in my weakness (2 cor. 12).

I have the victory, in Jesus. I will cling to that, and work out my salvation in my daily living. forward motion...

Pichilemu

2010-03-21T14:59:00.003-04:00

No, that's not some newly-invented curseword, it's a town. My new town, in fact... for now. I arrived yesterday around midnight after a three-hour drive from the Chilean capital, Santiago. My Discipleship Training School starts tomorrow.
It's the end of summer/beginning of autumn here. There are mostly pine trees, but I hope that the deciduous ones will change colors as the weather gets cooler. The day is nice... warm in the sun. The base -- a cluster of houses where families and students live and study -- is on a hill. The ground is covered in a fine, dry dust, some pebbles, and some pine needles.. When I look out from I see the Pacific Ocean down below. On the other side of the hill you can see small mountains in the distance. I think the town has 15,000-20,000 inhabitants: bigger than I had imagined, since I had been told it was a little village.
There are a lot of Colombians here for the DTS, several from Bogota itself. Also, people from Chile, Argetina, Uruguay, Paraguay, Brasil, Costa Rica, Germany, The U.S., Canada, Holland, and other places too, I'm sure.
This morning we had a church service here at the base, then I rested for a while, then we had lunch. Now I'm hanging out in the kitchen/living area of the girls' quarters. We have a small stove, small sink, and small refrigerator. A sofa, a table, and a few chairs. There are three bedrooms, each with three bunk beds.
The sun is shining, the wind is blowing, we feel sleepy... but I want to go see the town and the beach, and hopefully we'll go do that soon.

Here's to all that begins tomorrow; or all that began when I left North Carolina on Thursday, or Colombia yesterday, or when I left home over a year ago, or the day I was born... not sure when it all began, but here's to the next step!

The Soloist

2010-03-06T23:36:00.001-05:00

WARNING: SPOILER! If you haven't seen this movie and would like to do so without knowing how it turns out, read no further!

(Written February 3rd)

I went to see "The Soloist" (Robert Downey, Jr. and Jamie Foxx) inthe only theater it's playing at in Bogotá -- Cine Colombia de la Av. Chile.
It was good, but not quite what I expected. I guess I expected redemption, reconciliation, healing... on a grand scale.
I expected the neatly-tied bow, but what I got was life. Gritty, frustration, disappointing, entangling, obligating commitment to people... And the fact that we can't go in and do some "quick fix" -- erase the damage of disease and time and sin in the world, and then pull out unscathed.

At first, the reporter just needed a story, then he wanted to help the homeless guy and take away his problems -- "fix" him and his life. When he saw it wasn't happening, he wanted out, but it was too late -- he was already in too deep.
In the end, he "settles" for relationship: a slow redemption process, perhaps.

Before I left for the theater I was talking with a woman who is in Bogotá with a visiting YWAM team who has seen the movie and felt disappointed by it for the lack of hope, healing, redemption. It's true what she says, that Jesus could miraculously heal the schizophrenic man and redeem his soul AND his life. But that doesn't always happen. In fact, most of the time it doesn't. And we can lose faith, but we can also deal with it and grow in a slow healing and redemption.
If Nathaniel Ayers (homeless) had gotten on meds, off the street, all better, and become a star celloist, then Steve López (reporter) could've pulled out of the picture, self-content, and moved on with his life.
But we need each other, as frustrating and unproductive as it can be.

A quote from the movie, scribbled on the back of my ticket stub in the dark theater... it speaks what I often think, hope, and pray for the street people, addicts, and prostitutes that I see:
"I believe these children of God are gonna be okay tonight. They're gonna sleep and dream as humans do."

amazonas

2010-02-13T22:26:00.003-05:00

10 February
On the Amazon River. It's beautiful, broad, cafe con leche brown, solitary. Its tree-lined banks are scattered with occasional huts on stilts.
On the far side is Perú!
Drifiting tree trunks, branches, an anachronistic styrofoam box from someone{s lunch, fishermen let us pass them by.

There is consistent cloud-cover over this, the lungs of the planet.
I am polluting her arteries.

I long for 'simpler' times, days of true adventure, when the carbon footprint wasn't as great, or as noticeable.
Yet, I know that I enjoy the convenience of my era. That, in former centuries, I would never be here, most likely never would've left North Carolina or my region, let alone my continent.

And the environmental impact is unavoidable. Every time I eat fish, I'm contributing to gasoline, exhaust, trash in our rivers, in the oceans, in the clouds. Anytime I go anywhere and I don't walk or ride a bike or an animal, anytime I turn on a light or a faucet, use my computer, grocery shop...

Neither do I want to live out my days farming in the middle of nowhere only using what I produce. (Although there is something appealing to me in the agricultural lifestyle)
But the fact of the matter is, our world is moving away from that. We're all migrating to megacities and then paying large sums to take eco-vacations out to virgin wilderness or to see the few brave souls who are still livingcloser to the earth than we can, but who, nevertheless, have gasoline generators to power their DirecTV, and dream of city vacations.

FALL

2010-01-29T23:46:00.005-05:00

I have one "regular" week left here, then a week of travel with a couple friends, then a few days to get my things in order.

My emotions are so mixed I'm not even able to process them all completely.

Bibiana says that the process of the DTS starts before one goes, and I know that. I know that my recent (and coming) moments of revelation, of tears, of breaking truth, are leading up to the six months I'll spend focusing on God.

With so many questions I'm tempted to say "prove me wrong, God" but today, listening to a 100 Portraits & Waterdeep song, I softened a bit. If I want to be made new, if I want Him to make sense of the questions and the dreams and the realities --of the fact of "almost but not yet" which is the state of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth and of our new life in Christ-- then I have to be open to the work of the Spirit.

Will I let myself fall on the Rock and be broken, or will the Rock have to fall on top of me? If I LET myself fall, there's more chance of putting Humpty Dumpty back together again.*

"Since I am so sick, Since I am in need, Since I have no healing within me:
Oh, my God, be mindful of me...You are my help and my Redeemer.
Unto You, oh Lord, I lift up my soul, In Your loving-kindness I believe.
SURELY THOSE WHO WAIT ON YOU WILL NEVER BE ASHAMED;
ALL OF THOSE WHO FALL ON YOU WILL KNOW THE FAITHFULNESS OF YOUR NAME."
(album: Enter the Worship Circle/ song: Since I am so sick)

*Matthew 21:44
also interesting Matthew 21:28-30 ... which will I be? and you? and, are there only two options?

Funny

2010-01-23T18:23:00.001-05:00

Funny things J. has said recently (translated to English):

While eating dinner, he asked, “When I finish can I play a little bit more?”
-No, because you need to get ready and go to bed.
-AGAIN?!

Last Sunday, I borrowed an outfit from Jessica, who is from Laguna Beach, California. The shirt and jean jacket were definitely my style, but I felt unsure about the white jeans (I don’t think I’ve worn colored jeans since fifth grade). I didn’t have anything else I wanted to wear, though, so I kept them on and we walked out the door.
J. saw them and said, “Emily those pants are funny. But only when you wear them.”
I laughed and told him I felt the same way!

Out of nowhere, he comes out with “OH MY GOODNESS!” in great English. We’ve definitely reached a critical point in the bilingual bridge. He repeats things we say all the time, and his pronunciation is pretty good.

Rain

2010-01-23T18:21:00.000-05:00

It’s raining for the first time in two months; the kind of slow, steady rain that Mom likes, that the parched ground can actually soak up. I’m making brownies for I’s fourteenth birthday tomorrow and cookie bars for the day after that, when the whole ministry team will be up here at the farm for a workday. Beef stew is simmering for this evening’s meal. Bibiana is on her way back here after being in her home country of Venezuela for a week. Little J. is up the hill playing at another house. The girls here have finally finished their chores, which they started approximately five hours ago, so there’s no more fighting in the house and the peace seeps in around our roots.

Listening to a sermon today, Greg made reference to a time about two years ago when I and a couple of people at that church tried to start up a new ministry, and it flopped. Comparing that with this venture I’ve been on for a year, I can see what he means about God’s gifting and calling and equipping for his work to be done. When we were trying to reach out to the neighborhood around us, I remember feeling mostly frustrated and unsure. Here I feel that I flourish, even when I get aggravated with J. or other situations. A couple of sermons back in the series, he mentioned a missionary who said he knew for sure that God had called him to Uganda when the plane landed there, because keeping him from arriving was the final thing the Lord could’ve done to stop him. But, looking at Greg’s own experience in Uganda, where, as he puts it, he hid in the mud hut reading comic books to escape while his wife made friends with the village women, I think that the arrival is only one part. Flourishing or faltering demonstrates a lot about calling and capacitation.

I’m not saying that I’ve always felt like I’m thriving here. You just need to go back and read entries from March, April, May to see a glimpse of some difficult times I’ve been through. Confronting my dream with the reality of what it means to take care of neglected children in a family-style setting caused winds of doubt and disenchantment. But God knows when to send the rain; the confirmation, the salve to our wounded souls. My parent’s mid-year visit was a two-week long oasis. The early-December vacation with friends was another time to relax and soak up.

In Colombia, when it rains a lot of activities get cancelled. People stay home. They don’t go to their parties, don’t run their errands, they rest and wait.

In February I’m going home for a month, then I’ll head to Chile for my Discipleship Training School. My heart is divided: I want the time with God, the rest time to focus and fall in love with Him, time to hear his voice, to wait for confirmation and direction. But I ache for my foster son, worried that he won’t understand, that he’ll feel abandoned again, worried that I won’t be allowed to keep my promise to return to be with him. I’m jealous for all that will happen here while I’m gone and all that I’ll miss.

But I’m not God. The Lord is J’s father; it is the Lord who takes care of him, whether I get to be His hands or someone else here. And there is so much that I don’t understand, so if what I need is six months of resting, of focusing on God instead of pouring myself into these children, then I will go. I will wait out the long, steady shower.

note

2010-01-09T19:39:00.002-05:00

A note on that last post: In a conversation with a friend, we realized that it turns out that struggle I referred to springs from a huge LIE that we both (all) believe too often. That is, "God doesn't bless me. God doesn't want to give me good things." The blessing or good thing we perceive him to be witholding depends, of course, on each person. It's the same thing as in the old Garden of Eden story: "Don't trust him, he's holding out on you!"

New?

2010-01-01T12:08:00.003-05:00

New year, same old sin.

I woke up this morning struggling with something that I've dealt with my entire life, since preschool at least! You can change the calendar, but it doesn't change the paradigm we live in.
My journal entry this morning (not the first this year, since I also wrote last night before sleeping):

I realize that this is the same struggle I've had all my life.

I recognize that it exists because of sin; because I was created for intimacy with You but that got broken. That I'm supposed to find my worth and identity in you, but we've been separated and I consistently look to other things or people to define me.

I know these things, but it's still a fight I have to live.

Holy Spirit, come.
Lord Jesus, come.
Loving Father, come.

A Chris Tomlin song that encouraged me this morning, as I strummed my guitar and waited for the answer to that prayer of invitation:

Great is your faithfulness, oh God/ you wrestle with the sinner's heart/ you lead us in the song of our salvation/ and nothing can keep us apart.
So remember your people, remember your children, remember your promise, oh God...
Your grace is enough/ heaven reaching down to us/ your grace is enough for me.
Your grace is enough/ I'm covered in your love/ your grace is enough for me.

Two double ought nine...

2009-12-31T16:41:00.004-05:00

...Is over at midnight tonight. This year has brought a lot of changes and a lot of good things. I'm living some dreams I've had for much of my life, as I find myself in Latin America, fluent in Spanish, and helping raise abandoned/neglected children in a family-style setting.
Along with those dreams fulfilled have come some hardships, especially recently as I faced a profound feeling of loneliness. Earlier in the year, the difficulties came more from doubting my calling to this dream of raising children at risk, of struggling through sacrifice of self for that calling, of learning that even I have "authority issues", and beginning to see some of the ugliness that lies hidden within that God wants to clean up in his refining fire.

It also means I'm completing two years as a blogger here at blogspot. And, as my brother just reminded me in an email, we're all completing ten years of surviving Y2K. There goes the decade...

December

2009-12-25T10:30:00.003-05:00

I have a LOT to update, but I've been putting it off!
In brief (and hopefully I'll post some more detailed blogs): December 9-16 I went to the coast on a much-needed and wonderful vacation with three friends. We flew into Santa Marta, and stayed in the nearby village of Taganga, where two of our group did a scuba diving licensing course. From there, we went for one night to a national park called Parque Tayrona. It was beautiful and I wish we could've stayed longer. I definitely hope to go back sometime. Then we went back to Santa Marta, got on a bus for five hours (I'm really not patient with bus travel, and am VERY thankful for planes, and that we were able to fly to and from Bogota) to the beautiful city of Cartagena. We stayed there two nights, saw the old city, swam in the ocean a bit, and enjoyed our time together.
Those friends are now in their own countries again. Ingie left on the 19th for Canada, and Luke and Liz left the 20th for England. I miss them badly, and in some ways their departure marks the end of one phase and the beginning of another. Right now, all the staff we have are long-term, and most of the friends I've made over the last year aren't here anymore.
I think I've written before about how every few months since I've been here I need to have a good cry. Well this past week, it seems I was overdue. 1. The departure of three good friends, after a really good week together, 2. The frustration of not having close friendships, especially outside of coworkers, and 3. Being away from family this time of year, proved to be a rough combination. Anyways, I am feeling better, but missing friends and hoping to make more here. I finally understand how difficult it is moving to a new city (and not being in university) and trying to find community. Thankfully with the ministry, I'm automatically plugged in to something, but it's different in a lot of ways.
Last night, Christmas Eve, everyone here at the farm went down to Kiwi House to hang out together. We ate around 9 pm, then the kids decorated gingerbread houses (a very American thing... Thanks to Jess's efforts in the kitchen all day). Little J., who refused to sleep in the afternoon, fell asleep while eating at about 10. I put him in a bed with the promise to wake him up to open presents, but when 11 o'clock rolled around and I got him, he couldn't handle it so we just had Christmas this morning instead.
Here in Colombia, the tradition is to open presents at midnight, but with the kids (and maybe moreso with the adults) we decided not to wait quite so late. Anyways, thanks to a lot of donations and family who had sent presents, there was a mountain of gifts under the tree. We didn't hand them out one by one and wait to see what everyone got, so the Great Unwrapping went pretty quickly... although I missed the way we always did it growing up. Plus, I just like the morning excitement more (and the fact that it means everyone has to go to bed early). Anyways, it was great. We finished off eating pumpkin and pecan pie (that was my culinary contribution), then headed up to our house to sleep.
Little J. slept until about 8:00 this morning, which was in itself a gift! Now I'm waiting to talk with my family. I don't know what we'll end up doing today... resting, I hope, and maybe cleaning up a bit!

Now that we're on vacation from our daily programs, one of my goals is submitting my application for my DTS (school/training with YWAM). I'm currently a bit sad about leaving for 6 months to do that, even though I know it'll be a very special time for me and an important time for spiritual growth. I've been working on the application that the base in Santiago, Chile sent me. I emailed the leaders in Pichilemu, Chile, and it turns out that they're in Bogota right now. Hopefully we'll get together so I can see what they're like and they can give me the application. I also hope to get together with a couple of acquaintances/friends.
Two days ago, I enrolled J. in a pre-school for next year! It seems like a really great program! He'll start Jan. 18th. That's a huge answer to prayer for me.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Goodbye, November

2009-11-30T22:07:00.003-05:00

This is just a quick post to say that I love Thanksgiving. I'm very grateful that they gave us the day off in the ministry (as it's not a holiday here) and that we had an extremely successful Thanksgiving feast and get together. About 50 people were here and we ate great food -- the turkey was delicious and worth every peso that we had to pay for it; the stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy rocked my world; there were pies galore; the mora (like a blackberry, sort of) sauce did a decent job replacing cranberries; and the only failure was the "sweet potato" (batata) that we tried to make.
So, food-wise we did great. Fellowship: check. And after the meal those of us who wanted to went down the zip line. I went once alone, and then once with little J., who loved it! If we hadn't had big plans that day, I would've been really sad, I think. It also really helped that I got to talk to all the family who was at my parents' house in the morning.
Tonight we ate turkey soup and decorated the Christmas tree... it's offcially the holiday season. Last night we went around the city to see the lights (most public parks are decorated to the hilt and Bogota's residents go there to hang out this time of year). I've bought stockings for J. and myself... fun times!!!

Sick Day: recurring themes

2009-11-22T18:55:00.000-05:00

Today is the Sunday before Thanksgiving. I am at home with a cold, taking advantage of my only opportunity to really rest until next weekend (and even then, who knows what will come up?) while the rest of the farm is in the city for church. I have some sermons on my iTunes that I haven’t listened to yet, so I pick one.
Greg, my pastor back home, reminds me first of all about God’s expression toward me: a continual smile. That’s something that is and has been very difficult for me to accept, because I have always imagined him regarding me without expression, waiting to see what I’ll DO and if it will be pleasing or displeasing. Having a foster son reminds me of that false belief a lot. How often do I treat little J. that way? How often does he feel that he has to perform, to be worthy, to do well, for me to smile and show him my love? When I discipline him, does he feel my love? Or only my disappointment?
But, as Greg says in this sermon I’m listening to, that is not something I can resolve to change on my own. Love and service toward others can only be an outpouring of a realization of God’s love toward me. Not until I understand that I am the guy beaten, stripped, and left for dead on the side of the road, on whom the Samaritan has mercy… not until I know that I am utterly dependent on Him will I be able to love freely and give generously and serve without reservation.
Of course, is that realistic? I don’t know… it’s problem we all have. Ever since the first people didn’t trust that God was good, that he loved them, we’ve all been born that way. And it affects us in every aspect of our lives: between God and us, with ourselves, between others and ourselves, between ourselves and the natural world. We need a radical, complete, holistic change.
I remember one line from Mel Gibson’s film, ‘The Passion of the Christ’. Jesus is staggering along the dusty road, carrying the heavy beam of the cross on which he will die. He stumbles and falls, covered in sweat, blood, dirt. His mother, Mary, is at the side of the road, in anguish. Her son, God’s son, looks at her and says, “See, Mother, I am making all things new.”
It gave me goose bumps. That’s what I want, that’s what the world needs… to be made new, in every way. And now, in Christ, we can once again walk with God in the cool of the evening, we can see him face to face without fear, without hiding our nakedness with fig leaves. We can know his love, through the lavish love of Christ. But I cannot make myself know it or understand it. I can hear the theology, but I have to wait for the Spirit to do the work of sinking it in deep.
And then, through faith and hope in the Spirit’s work, the world will change. I, too, can be a part of making all things new. When I overflow with that love, when I feel His smile, His pleasure on me as I am and do exactly and only what He created me to be (when I live ontologically), I will serve and love with reckless abandon!
Right now there are two Jamaican ladies here at Formando Vidas. Donna will be staying long term. Marion is a friend of hers and YWAM leader in Montego Bay who came to visit Colombia and help get Donna settled in. Marion is full of life, love, energy, excitement. She doesn’t speak much Spanish but said she wished she had some tracts or something in Spanish to hand out. Growing up in the South, I’ve felt and seen and participated in the misuse of things like tracts, so I don’t like the idea of “hit and run” evangelism (street evangelism, tracts, door-to-door evangelism… things that don’t have follow up from me/the group involved, things that are not relational). Marion said that she doesn’t care and she just says a prayer and uses whatever she has, that God can and will use whatever we have for His glory and purposes.
Moving to Bogotá from the Bible Belt, I’m realizing how many people do not know Jesus. Every day, on every street, every bus, in every store, I see people and wonder if they know that there is new life. If they have heard the good news. If they have hope and know that there are plans and a purpose for them; that they matter. I am seeing for the first time, that “the harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few.” Of course we need more ‘workers’, but what if the ones we have weren’t so scared of people’s reactions? What if we understood God’s love more? Enough to serve lavishly? Enough to lay down our lives, our schedules, our plans, to take time to be with someone? Enough to get over our cultural hang-ups, to pray and hand out a tract? Or to tell the street person that Jesus loves her when I give a cup of coffee?
Not because I have to, or because I ought to. Rather, because I have been loved so much that I can see I am incapable of love. But that I know One who IS love, who is in me and working through me, to fill the earth with that love and make it new again.

smiles and tear gas

2009-11-18T16:47:00.002-05:00

Today we got off the Transmilenio (city-wide bus system like a metro or subway, but at street-level) at Calle 72 and started walking up toward the colectivo (little bus to go out of the city to the farm) as always. J was asleep in my arms, after insisting that he wasn't tired and didn't want to sleep. I heard a noise like a gun shot further up, but wasn't sure what it was. There were people standing around in the medians and I realized that there were a lot of people in the road and sidewalks a few blocks up, right about where the colective leaves from. I heard some more shot sounds, but it was surprisingly hushed. Crossing the street, I noticed that the music store had two of its three large doors closed off, as though it were closed. A moment later, I felt a strange burning in my throat, which moved into my nose and even to my eyes. Tear gas. Turning back, I went into a grocery store. We needed bread anyways.
The explosions kept going off. There's a university on the 72, toward where we were heading. Asking the check-out ladies, they said that there was, as I had guessed, a demonstration having to do with the university students.
We made our purchase and I put more minutes on my phone, then left to figure out how to get home, since our normal route was out of question. The colectivos couldn't even get through there. By this point, J had woken up. I explained to him that there was a gas outside that could hurt our noses and throats and eyes, so we needed to cover up with my scarf, and we headed out, taking a taxi to the 85 to wait for the bus there. He said the police were "fea" (ugly, bad) and I said that the gas they were shooting was feo, but also whatever the students were doing was feo and a bad situation in general. Later he asked me if the police were good or bad. "I don't know," I told him. "Sometimes they do good things, and sometimes not."

Yesterday the kids went to see a play. I stayed behind to make lunch. A frequent visitor (street person) came by to pick up a Bible that one of my co-volunteers had sent for him. He ended up talking to me for about an hour and helping me clean out the cupboards that mice had gotten into. A few times I wondered if I should make him leave or if I could trust him or I just wanted to be alone again, but it turned out to be a really cool visit.

It looks like I'm going to do my YWAM school in March. Well, I haven't applied yet or anything, but that's what I'm feeling. I'm sad about it today. Other days I'm really excited! It's going to be hard to leave, even though I plan to come back after the 6-month school and outreach.

process

2009-11-14T21:28:00.000-05:00

My shoulders are sore and my legs are tired. Today we had a work day at the farm, so I spent a few hours dragging limbs to a pile for burning and then carrying posts on our shoulders over hills to make piles of 50 for fence posts so the cows can start eating the grass up the mountain.
It was nice work. Of course it feels good to be out in the fresh air, and to be getting exercise, but also to see progress, to see something happen, makes it so satisfying. My work here is usually very unlike that. I’m working with people, with children, and hoping to see long-term change. A friend called it a “slow redemption process” that’s being worked out. In Little J., in all the kids, in me, in all of us.
We’re all being pruned, cut back, shifted about, refuse thrown in a pile for disposal, making room for better things to grow and making us more useful and use-able. ‘As iron sharpens iron, so one friend sharpens another.’ Community is so important to our growth processes. ‘Abide in Christ’ and the Father will take care of the changing process, the Father is the gardener who does the pruning and watering and fruit-producing.

Another thing that I’ve been thinking about this week is being child-like, in the good sense. In the sense that Jesus talked about when he invited the kids to come be with him, when he said that whoever welcomes a little child welcomes him. I was reading the section of the Transfiguration in the gospel of Mark . Peter, James, and John get to go on a hike with Jesus. He supernaturally changes and then Elijah and Moses appear. The three of them are having a chat and “they were so frightened” that Peter “didn’t know what to say” (9:6). So instead of just keeping quiet and taking in as much as he could and being silent in wonder, he spoke up and said something foolish. He was uncomfortable with the situation. He was scared, he felt like he needed to say or do something. Kids don’t do that. If there’s something they don’t understand, something amazing, they let themselves be amazed. Or if they have a question, they ask it. Why do we lose those attributes when we get older?

The sun always comes up

2009-10-27T20:51:00.002-04:00

October is a rainy month. One afternoon I got caught in a downpour twice, and even though I had an umbrella I had to change both times because my pants were soaked! It was definitely a "frog strangler" as I grew up hearing, or "raining buckets" or, as we say here "Estaba cayendo un palo de agua" -- which I like to translate, it's raining so hard it'll beat you with a stick!
We had a whole week of rain, but since then it's been nice with a few days of sun and then a rainy one. Today was clear. I woke up early and came upstairs as the eastern sky was starting to lighten. The morning star twinkled over the stark black line of the mountains on the other side of the valley. A few sparse clouds turned pink as roosters welcomed the gift of another day. It's such a blessing that I get to live here on the farm. J. and I are in Viña house now. Another change, but not as drastic as moving from the city to here.
I'm looking toward the horizon of my time here and wondering when the light will break over the peaks and be shed on the next step. Just like I felt this morning, I want to see what will come to light but the moments of semidarkness are so beautiful that I don't want to let them go. I know that as soon as I decide when and where I'm going to do my YWAM trainig school things will begin to change. The planet keeps turning, the star distances itself and fades, the pink clouds turn peach, then grey. Yes, there will be other sunrises, but never the same.

Nostalgia

2009-10-05T22:48:00.000-04:00

Sitting around the big, wooden table at Kiwi House, finishing up a simple lunch and chatting, I noticed Steve’s hands, holding the soup spoon as he talked to us. They’re my grandfather’s hands. I loved those hands, once so steady and careful, strong yet gentle. A tear stung in my eye, surprising me into turning my head to stop watching Granddad’s hands on Steve’s body.

I just ate a piece of pumpkin pie that Steve’s wife, Evi, made. Thanksgiving is in a month and a half. We’re planning to do a whole dinner, but I know we’ll be missing some things: cranberry sauce, the plates in a stack on the counter, collard greens and turnips, preparing the feast all morning long with the women of the family…

I want to go to the house in Sneads Ferry; I want to go to the beach. I want to eat roast beef in Chesapeake and sit around in the living room with the family. I want to go to the cabin in Robbinsville, and feel free to wander around in the woods a bit. I want to visit at least a dozen places in Greensboro.

I listened to a sermon from my church online last night. I’m thrilled that they now have a podcast, and Greg’s words sunk into my heart, adding to the things God is mixing together over the last week. A few sermons, a letter from a YWAM leader to all the bases, a chapter in the Experiencing God book that we’re studying in small group, conversations with housemates and coworkers… a pinch of this, a handful of that, stirred by hand because these things aren’t quick or easy.

wild honey from the Rock

2009-09-17T11:32:00.001-04:00

Psalm 121

I look up to the mountains – does my help come from there?
My help comes from the LORD, who made the heavens and the earth!
He will not let you stumble and fall; the one who watches over you will not sleep.
Indeed, he who watches over Israel never tires and never sleeps.
The LORD himself watches over you! The LORD stands beside you as your protective shade.
The sun will not hurt you by day, nor the moon at night.
The LORD keeps you from all evil and preserves your life.
The LORD keeps watch over you as you come and go, both now and forever.

This morning after I got J. off to Bogotá on the ministry bus, I went inside, poured myself a coffee and a bowl of cereal, and opened up my bible. This was the first thing my eyes landed on. I looked up from the page, out the picture window to the 6:00 a.m. cloud-shrouded mountains. Reading again, tears stung in my eyes at the confirmation that He will never sleep, He will never leave me unattended, having to go it alone. He is the one watching over me, knows my going out and coming in, has plans for good and not for evil, for a future and a hope, will complete the good works he has begun. I, too, am Israel, one who struggles with God and with life.
This morning I thank the LORD for his faithfulness, for a day of rest, for good friends, for a wonderful family, and that He willingly and lovingly takes my worries and stress and mistakes and inability, replacing them with his life, his spirit, his plans.
I feel him say to me, “Don’t pick up the burdens I’ve already taken from you. My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“For it was I, the LORD your God, who rescued you from the land of Egypt [from the weight of the world on your shoulders that you were not able to rid yourself of]. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it with good things.” Psalm 81:10 (the title of this post also comes from that psalm)

I decide this morning to cast my cares at the foot of the cross, to still my soul in his presence, and to open my mouth, so that my Father and friend can fill me up with good things.

country mouse, city mouse

2009-09-09T22:35:00.003-04:00

Colombia lost to Uruguay 1-3 in soccer today. Bummer, but it was fun to watch the game with Ingrid at the pizza place.
Decision made about J's and my living situation: Within the next couple of weeks we'll be moving our stuff out of Torre Fuerte (the house in the city) up to La Cabaña, a small house further up the mountain on the ministry farm. It's tiring not having all of our belongings in one space, and I'm excited to get settled in and get our own routine.
The cabin is really cute, and J. can play outside and maybe I can get a hammock to put up in the trees. I want to plant some flowers, and there's a blackberry bush out front. The country girl in me is happy. The city girl in me misses the convenience of the corner stores, atm machines, and transport.

2009-08-27T21:45:00.003-04:00

Tonight I got to ride a bike. It's my day off, and J is up at the farm while I'm in the city. It hasn't been a very restful day, because I've been running errands and keeping appointments all over the city, but it's still nice to have time to do something different.
At my church there was a presentation by the group who went to Asuncion, Paraguay for the World Mennonite Conference. Many of them went by bus from Bogota to Asuncion, and a bit further, to Buenos Aires. Check out a map to see the distance covered -- it's impressive! I really enjoyed seeing their pictures and hearing a bit about the trip and the conference, especially when they showed photos from Peru, where I've been. I also (knowingly) made the bad decision to drink a little cup of coffee, so I hope I can still get to sleep early!
So, I'm going to this mennonite church, which doesn't mean amish or anything like that. It means that they're supporters of equality in the church, between gender, age, education, wealth; that they're against violence; and in the case of this congregation at least, that they're very involved in social justice and community work. Mennonites are Anabaptists, which I recently learned comes from the time of the reformation, when they "re-baptised" each other (having been baptised as children the first time).
I like the church. It is smallish, has a family feel, has things I can help with (if and when I have time), is involved in the community and cares deeply for social justice in Colombia and globally. In fact, often in the past I've felt more on the pushing-edge in this regard, but this congregation challenges and pushes me more: in other words, I have room to grow in my part of "ushering in the Kingdom of God", and this church can help me in that growth.
But I wish I could fit into a category of some sort. I grew up Baptist, went to a non-denominational church for a while, then a Presbyterian church, and now a Mennonite church. There are things I like about all of the churches I've been a part of, and things I've questioned as well. It would be a lot easier to be able to say that I am 100% on board with everything; in other words, to fit in. (Or what seems to me to be fitting in.)
I know that it doesn't really matter and that, in fact, I don't LIKE labels that completely identify a person, but I sometimes feel like I have a big secret in not being mennonite, or in not knowing my stance on non-violence.
Anyways, those are just some thoughts, but the ride home on a bike borrowed from a friend was nice.

Things are going really well at the farm, even though it's still hard to get up so early on days we have to come down to the city with the ministry bus, and it's cold, and the hot water heater is broken in Kiwi House (where we are currently).

country living

2009-08-16T21:42:00.003-04:00

J. and I are up at the farm for the month, living in Kiwi house while Bibiana is in Venezuela on vacation. It's really nice to be out in the country and the last two days have been really pretty and we've enjoyed having a yard and other kids to play with. Today we walked down to the highway to catch the bus into the city and go to church. It was a long day, but for me it was worth it to see some friends and get into the city for a few hours.
Now the little ones in the house are asleep (finally, after all of them decided to cry and scream for about a half hour) and we older girls are about to play cards, while eating popcorn and candy from the States (that Jessica brought back) and watching a movie. Good times :)
The only thing about being up here is that we'll have to get up really really early on the week days to get ready and go down to the city... ugh. Anyways, tomorrow we don't have to so we'll enjoy another peaceful day here, hopefully!

2009-08-06T10:57:00.003-04:00

An update from the situation a week ago:
Things are better.
I had a couple of rough evenings, but Monday I got to go to the area meeting for those of us in 24-hour care, and that was really good to be around other people who have made similar mistakes and with whom we can share struggles and hear advice and experiences and encouragement.
Also, God has been good in reminding me that he loves me, he loves J., and miracle of miracles, he wants to use us to work in each others' lives.
I also had to repent of the fact that I'd been complaining a lot lately, so this week has been happier since I'm trying to lighten up on griping to God. :)

Yesterday I got to be a nerd (how fun!) because a lady from church who teaches French and is about to start teaching Spanish invited me to a talk at a local university. It was about methodology and ideas for teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages (what I did in Greensboro for a year and a half). It was fun to be at a university again and listening to something that interests me. I've had a few different people ask me for English classes, and I'm probably going to start giving a group class once a week, so the speaker's ideas were helpful.

Okay, I'm going to go run a couple of errands and then have my Spanish lesson for the week (to see how good or bad I did my homework, hehehe)
Blessings to my readers, the world over.

daily life

2009-07-31T07:35:00.003-04:00

Yesterday was my day off: wonderful. It was a beautiful, sunny day (all day long!) and I went for breakfast at a historical diner (Bogota-style), then I went shopping a bit. I tried to buy a cell phone to replace the one that got stolen (the company gave me a replacement SIM card for free, with the same number), but at the places I asked they didn't have ones that were compatible with my company. So instead of getting a phone, which I need, I bought clothes... and not even jeans, which I need! Oh well, that's part of being a girl, I suppose. :)
In the afternoon when J. got home, some friends also came over. We all went across the street and got milkshakes, then went to the park, where we took off our shoes and socks in the grass and J. and Luke played hide and seek.
We went back to the house and Liz and I left for my church, armed with a guitar, a chord sheet, and a cake. Last night there was an open-mic kind of night so we sang a song and hung out. Ingrid and Luke came also; Luke gave us a standing ovation, haha. We actually did a good job, and tomorrow I'm going to worship practice and the main singer-lady wants to do the song that Liz and I sang. Good stuff... I'm pretty happy to get involved with the music there, at least once or twice a month would be nice.

Today was decent. After a nap, I did get a cell phone, and then watched CARS with J. and we ate pizza.
Sometimes I wonder why God has entrusted me with this child. This adventure is definitely proof to me that I cannot do anything good enough on my own. That the things I want to do, I don't. I'm an adult and I shouldn't react poorly to a four-year-old's attitude. I should be able to handle it. I should I should I should... basically this is showing me a lot of my broken areas, but at least for tonight I haven't let Jesus sit down next to me and take that stuff and forgive it. I'm not believing that he can use my failures, I'm not trusting that he knows what he's doing in my life and in J's. I want to blame it on my being "alone" in 24-hour care, but it's not just that... I think it has more to do with my brokenness.

What will tomorrow hold?

villavicencio

2009-07-21T21:07:00.002-04:00

Last weekend little J. went to the farm so I had Saturday-Monday off. Ingrid and I went out of town, about 2 1/2 hours away, to a small city called Villavicencio. It is the gateway to the plains... beautiful country, with layers of the Andes to the north, and opening into flat, broad expanses in the other directions.
We got into town late, but without any major problems (just more confusion about where the bus leaves from. It seems that I really need to research these things better before I go out of the house!). We found a hotel that we could afford, and settled in. The next day, we went horseback riding, because the plains area is famous for cowboy-type things. First, Ingrid got bitten (slightly) by a moody horse in the stable while we were waiting to begin the trail ride. Later, out on the trail through pastures, her horse ran her into a tree. Mine refused to canter, going from trot to bucking me when I tried to urge it into the next gait. The neat bits of the ride were the beautiful day, the warm weather, riding through a creek that covered half of the horses (up to mid-calf on me), seeing leaf cutter ants, and eating ice cream afterward.
That night we went out to eat and walked around a bit. Earlier I had seen some people setting up a stage in the main square, but it turned out not to be for Sunday night, but rather for Monday mid-day, since July 20 is the national holiday. The whole time we were there the town seemed a bit sleepy, had a beach town feel even though it's probably 15 hours from the ocean, and even the area that someone said was dangerous didn't seem bad at all, although of course we didn't just go hang out.
Monday morning, we decided to go find the river, which on the map is a huge, beautiful, blue expanse on the border of town. I had visions of swimming, or at least wading, in the water and generally enjoying a good time by the water, like we would in North Carolina.
Instead, the gray, muddy water seemed very low, and the banks were made of cobble-sized rocks. Off in the distance we saw people working by the shore and a community of houses. To the other direction it was deserted and seemed like we could go explore a bit.
Note: Rules of life are different here. For me, I feel safe in the country, but on-guard in the city. Here, that isn't necessarily true, as we were about to find out.
We walked down to the shore, by the bridge, and a group of teens accosted us, demanding everything. By the grace of God, they didn't harm us or even touch us. Also they let me take out my ID card, which really surprised me. The things I'm most bummed about losing are the camera that Mom and Dad just left for me (it was in the purse), and the purse itself, which was a gift from a Burmese student when I taught English in High Point. God was also gracious in having me leave my debit card and the equivalent of $35 in the hotel room that day, which was enough to get us back to Bogota without any more trouble.
We went straight to the police, but there was nothing to be done. I'm sure the kids had already dispersed and hidden the stuff to sell later. I hope their girlfriends enjoy the sunglasses... We got a ride back to the hotel in a police van, and called Bogota and packed our bags to the sound of the independence day parade.
For the rest of the day we were a bit shaken up, a bit subdued, very thankful to God, and feeling very stupid for going down there. Neither of us slept very well last night, but today I feel calm and super thankful for God's mercy.
When we explained to the police that we're in Colombia working with children at risk, with street kids, like those who robbed us, we had to laugh a bit at the irony of it all. But seeing first hand how they're living makes me more eager in my work, that they children I love on every day would not end up in street gangs, but instead would learn that there is another, better way to live.

vacation

2009-07-10T23:41:00.002-04:00

Two days after the last post, Mom and Dad arrived to visit for a couple of weeks. What a relief! God's timing is perfect, even in knowing when I really need a break and how to encourage me. Among the things we did was take a 2-day trip out of the city. I had found a place that sounded neat on the internet, so Wednesday morning we went to Portal de la 80 to catch a bus out of Bogota to Tobia, in hot country. As soon as we went through the turnstile from the Transmilenio (like a subway or metro system) to the waiting flotas (buses between towns)I saw one with a sign in the window for the place we were headed to, so I asked the driver how much it cost and how long it would take and we piled in. I was surprised at how inexpensive the fare was, and how short he said the trip would be, but we arrived without problems after passing through the beautiful "savannah" of Bogota.
It didn't seem very hot, and I didn't know where the hotel was, so we went to a bakery for a snack and to wait for the hotel agent to call me back. When he did, I realized my error: the hotel in hot country is in Tobia and we had gotten on a bus for Tabio, less than an hour from Bogota! With instructions from the hotel guy and a man in the bakery we hopped on a bus back toward Bogota (whose driver was in a terrible hurry and liked to honk the horn a lot) until we arrived at the traffic circle of Siberia: a major crossroad for any vehicle leaving or heading toward the capital on the road to Medellin.
We waited about a half hour for the bus to Villeta to finally pass (meanwhile my foster kid picked me every dandelion, almost ran out into the major highway, and was put on a "leash" by my Dad.
This time the trip was more what I expected: we crossed through the beautiful mountains and as we started going lower, it got warmer and warmer! Hotel guy had told me to get off the bus at La Maria and take either a bus or a "carrito". Where the road to La Peña meets the carretera to Villeta there is a place for passersby to buy empanadas and sodas and sit under the shade of a little roof. Apparently this crossroads is called La Maria. We sat on the step of the store and finished the strawberries I had bought through the window of the bus. I lent a minute on my cell phone to the other family that had gotten off at the same spot. A red car pulled up and turned off the ignition. "Those who are going to Tobia: he'll take you."
It seemed a bit random, as I hadn't understood that a "carrito" would be someone's private vehicle, but we hopped in and started down the road which soon turned to gravel, some places so steep that I can't imagine how they make it in the rainy season. On our left Rio Tobia flowed on ahead of us, leading the way, and the car dropped us off in the hamlet, where the Rio Negro runs into the Tobia.
After all the adventure that was arriving, my delight in the perfect getaway was completed when we pulled in (in the hotel manager's car) and I saw the rushing river in front of the hotel, complete with pool and hammocks and beautiful nature.
The next night we were back in Bogota, but I felt better having been away from traffic and pollution and 8 million people for even a night.

desanimada

2009-06-21T22:35:00.002-04:00

two rough weeks have come and gone.
i feel beat.
but mom and dad will be here in 2 days, and i feel sure that they will help encourage me.

i'm starting to wonder if i just need to have a cry for myself about every two months. i came in february and around easter needed to cry. then today i felt the same "need to cry but don't know why"... has it been two months since easter?
when i understand why i'm crying it's not as disturbing, i think. (because i DO cry more often than every two months, but usually with identifiable causes.)

my child is heart broken.
my child's behavior is atrocious.

the normal...

2009-06-11T21:52:00.003-04:00

My parents will be here in 2 weeks. My computer is jacked up (I think and hope it`s fixable, but I don`t know anything about that stuff and don`t have the desire to even mess with it. bah!). This Saturday, some friends and I will spend the afternoon having a cooking day... we did one about a month and a half ago, and it was really fun. I`ve said I`ll make a dessert, but I can`t decide yet which one to make. I got a box in the mail from Rebecca with a few bday goodies and some things for housemates and a friend and a little horse and cow for J. He has been mooing and neighing all afternoon.
Today I had my morning/afternoon off, which was a real blessing because yesterday was a rough day between J. and myself: Before he went to bed, he lost every single toy he owns, one at a time, and several privileges... all for attitude, sass, and disobedience. But as I was dealing with him, I remembered the verse about God`s mercies being new every morning, so after he was asleep I put everything back in his room (but he still lost the privileges, like going to the bakery or to the park with his tricycle or playing the guitar).
Today I prayed a lot for his hitting issues and the root causes, and I also prayed a lot for my reactions to his disobedience and disrespect. Please join me in these prayers, friends.
I don`t need to take his disrespect as a personal offense or as any sort of reflection on my worth or identity. While I recognize that on the intellectual level, "the coins haven`t dropped" (that is to say, it hasn`t sunk in to the heart-level and made a visceral difference in my life). And that understanding is something I can`t do myself... it`s the work of the spirit. I take encouragement in that, and in knowing that his grace is sufficient, for his power is made perfect in weakness, and that he uses my failures to call me and draw me to himself.

birthday surprises

2009-06-04T21:26:00.002-04:00

On Saturday, May 30, at about 8:30 in the morning, I completed 24 years of living and breathing without an umbilical cord.
I woke up that morning around 6:30, right before my child walked into my room and crawled into my bed. I pretended to sleep for the next hour while he played with my clock and chapstick. We got up and he went downstairs to the kitchen with my two roommates and two friends who had spent the night. I knew they were cooking breakfast for me, and shortly thereafter Ingrid brought up a coffee in my mug. I spent a little while reading my Bible and journaling, then took a nice long shower and got ready. What I thought was just breakfast for the six of us turned out to be a huge brunch for twelve people. Very thankful for good friends and good food, I found out the celebration had just begun. It was a very sunny day (I was thinking of taking J. to the park with his tricycle) and they told me we were going to a pool. "In Bogota???" But they wouldn't tell me where.
It turned out to not just be a pool, but a water park with a wave pool and some really cool slides, all enclosed under a greenhouse-type building (which is nice for Bogota's normal weather, but the day was so sunny I was a bit sad to miss out on the tanning opportunity).
We played for hours, at the end of which I received another surprise: J. pooped in the pool. I was flustered and trying to figure out the best way to get him clean and changed and take care of poopy boxers, but I had to laugh because it was just the cherry on top of my birthday. I thought we'd go home and get him showered and changed, but instead I rinsed him off in the cold shower at the park because they told me we were going to a restaurant.
We took a bus to a mall, where Madeline disappeared and I went with Ingrid, Fabian, J., and Warner into Exito (Walmart) and they started looking at clothes. Madeline showed up with a basket full of food/ingredients and then they picked out a silly shirt for me. We left the store and I had to change into my birthday suit (I mean, shirt...) and then we took another bus to the 127 house (the ministry HQ), where most everyone in the ministry was waiting to help celebrate!
Some folks had made cakes and others got to working chopping veggies and cooking ground beef for a taco salad. We ate and then they put on dance music! (I put J. in bed shortly after we arrived, because he had already eaten something and he was really tired and I didn't feel like fighting with his tired little self.)
I don't think I've ever had such a complete day of birthday celebration and surprises! I really kept thinking their plans were completed and then found out they had something else up their sleeves! I'm trying to think of a way to thank them all...

Another surprise, that we got yesterday, is that we don't have any water! Since living here in Torre Fuerte, we've had our electricy cut off, our gas meter stolen (and thus cut), and now our water meter stolen! This is definitely the most difficult. Hopefully we'll get it back tomorrow. Our kitchen is disgusting, our bathrooms are gross (we had to get buckets of water from the neighbors to flush the toilets and bathe me and J.), and I'm realizing how much I take the convenience of the faucet for granted...