the journey

olivia goes to school

2012-01-28T20:31:00.003-06:00

Backpack? Check. Hair done? Check. Shoes on? Check.

Biggest, most excited grin ever? Double-check!

This girl is ready to go!

Learning from the big kids, following in their steps. Walking along the trail to school.

Just look at the straightness of her back and the arch of her eyebrows and the

picture-perfect poise of her hands. She knows this is her big day.

The three girls (Marta, Olivia, and Rebekah) find their seats, look at their nametags,

and get acquainted with the things around them.

Shari and Olivia with their first-day-of-school happy faces.

We're thrilled to be able to send Olivia to an early childhood class with Shari twice a week for two hours on each of those days. Olivia gets some extra attention and socialization. And we love Shari. Ali and Aidan get to work undistracted by a little sister. And I get to enjoy going into single-minded-(watch out kids!)-teacher-mode for those few hours. It's a win-win situation, and we are certain that we are the ones most blessed by this arrangement.

(Heather)

how time flies

2011-11-27T21:42:00.003-06:00

Going through photos the past several days, I've found myself smiling, even laughing at times, as I remember precious moments in our lives. My favorites are glimpses of pure love and unfettered joy on my kids' faces. (Appearances of them actually loving one another are not so bad either).

I came across these two photos and was struck by the similarities (wonder if Aidan likes orange shirts?) and yet amazed by how much they've grown. Is it possible that more than three years have passed by already? The earlier photo was taken less than two months after we arrived here in Guatemala. The later photo was taken on the twins' 7th birthday.

I know not everyone will find these as awe-inspiring as I do, but, c'mon. You have to at least admit that they are pretty cute kids. ;)

(Heather)

honey, i blew up the...apple?

2011-11-25T21:23:00.003-06:00

I just wanted to post some light-hearted photos of some apples Don brought back from the capital last week.

Now, I've heard that Honeycrisp apples leave people salivating for more, and I've even had the pleasure of trying one a few weeks ago right out of a farmer's market produce stand. They are delightfully sweet (yes, like honey) and refreshingly tart at the same time. And they do have nearly the perfect amount of crunchy crispness to make your teeth happy.

However, when we opened the bag to retrieve these particular Honeycrisp apples, I couldn't help but wonder whether I was doing something dangerous for my health. I mean, they were so unnaturally huge that I couldn't convince myself there weren't some serious pesticides or fertilizers used to make them grow. I delayed cutting into them for several days, partially because I couldn't wrap my head around how BIG they were.

But when it came time to share a meal with a neighbor of ours, it turned out to be the perfect compliment to our pizza. And, what's more, one apple provided enough pieces to feed our entire crew!

Besides that, even if there were chemicals used in the production of this overly gigantic specimen...it still tasted as scrumptious as I remembered.

(Heather)

mourning

2011-11-22T19:17:00.002-06:00

Today I hold my twins a little bit tighter. I look at them playing, working, even arguing together and realize there is this undeniable relationship they have because they have always had each other. Always. Though I know there is no guarantee, and not even a likelihood that they will live each day in this same kind of unity, there is a kind of assumption that they will live to be two old souls, carrying each other through different stages of their lives with the bond that only exists for twins.

Watching them while thinking on these things and not actually being capable of imagining one without the other makes my heart even more heavy for Don's parents and siblings.

Today, they lost a son and brother, Tim, who was a twin to Todd. At only 40 years old, Tim's death was a complete shock. We still don't have answers about what happened, other than knowing it was most likely some kind of sudden illness/attack. The family is reeling. Todd never knew one minute of his life without Tim in the background. Don's parents are faced with the unfathomable task of burying their youngest son.

Though we don't understand, and this certainly isn't what we would choose, we continue to cling to God's love for us.

Please join with us in prayers for the Logan family, for Sue (Tim's wife), for Mom and Dad (Don and Cindy) and brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews who are all trying to grasp this unexpected passing.

Aidan and Althea

2011-11-10T10:34:00.002-06:00

This is the actual note I sent to our church body today through email. We will have more news to follow, but wanted our larger stateside family to begin to celebrate with us as well:

Dear church family,

My kids have been subjected to God's Word, and Spirit for many years. They have, at times, expressed interest in being "saved" or "going to heaven." I have answered questions, as well as Heather, and we have continued to pray for them along the way for the right "timing."

I'm not a big proponent of early childhood salvation experiences because I think it takes some time to separate the desires of the child from those of the parent. It also takes some intellectual maturity to understand the bad news of our condition and the Good News of Christ.
Last evening they came determined to understand how they could get to heaven. I explained our hopeless condition and the sacrifice of Christ on a piece of paper with a black and red marker.
They could hardly contain their tears as they began to more fully understand the sacrifice and "reason" for Jesus Christ.
And then with full knowledge and trepidation, they asked if they could "please be baptized" to continue their journey in obedience to Christ.

We are going to allow them to be baptized into the family of God this Sunday after church services. They will make their confession of faith before their church family at that time.
We hope that if you do not have other plans, you will join us at the hotel pool after services Sunday to witness and partake in this exciting moment in our lives, their lives...and to be a part of the celebration that will surely commence in heaven.

Thanks,
Pastor Don

highlights

2011-10-20T21:38:00.002-06:00

I just realized a few days ago that I haven't written anything new for many, many weeks. I thought maybe tonight I would rectify that simply by giving you some snapshots of what has happened over that period of time.

* Towards the end of September, Don sent me back to the States for what he dubbed "a girlfriend tour." I spent several days each with three of my closest friends, hanging out with them and their kids, talking and catching up with one another, and reveling in the fellowship of friends who've known me and loved me for a long time. Being a stay-at-home mom anywhere can be an isolating experience. Doing that in a foreign country where friendships are even harder to come by compounds the loneliness. I'm thankful for a husband who is empathetic to those struggles and cared enough to do something so selfless and thoughtful for me.

* The kids and I finished our first quarter in school. I'm still finding my way through homeschool materials and learning how to make the most of the lack of resources that I have, but we are all adjusting well and feeling better about this second year.

* Ali lost both of her front teeth. Yes, "All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth" will be her theme song in the coming holiday season.

* Olivia moved into the room with her big sister. This has been a transition for all three kids as they now sleep in close proximity to each other. It's fun to hear them reading together as part of their nighttime ritual, but the earlier morning wake-ups are not always so heartwarming. In only a few short months, we'll be making the next two big transitions...to the use of the potty and to Livi sleeping in a "big girl" bed! (Pray for us in both of these endeavors.) ;)

* Aidan has begun a new routine of whistling and cartwheeling his way through the day. He does it everywhere...all.the.time.

* We've lived here through another rainy season. These past few weeks have been quite the doozy as we've received inches upon inches of rain. There are mudslides all over the country. People and homes have disappeared as entire hillsides have slipped away. Rivers have crested well beyond their capacity. A few weeks of the rainy season still remain, but with some sun finally appearing today, we are hopeful that things will settle down and allow the rest of the month to be mostly uneventful.

* My parents arrived for a visit last week. Having them here gives us an opportunity to revisit some touristy places that we don't go to all that often. On our latest outing to Antigua, they even babysat the kids for an evening (taking them out to a local restaurant and then getting them back to a hotel again) while Don and I went on a date. We've also been able to get our schooling done in a more concentrated way. It's amazing the difference a set of grandparents makes when it means Olivia gets her very own entertainers while Ali, Aidan, and I work on school. Tomorrow, my parents and I will be visiting a local ministry to see how they are serving children with special needs. It's been a great time of visiting, relaxing, watching my parents and my children interact, and sharing the same space for a brief period of time.

* On Sunday, we all start the trek back to the capital in order for my parents to return home and for our family to make a journey to Florida. This is a once-a-year endeavor that allows us to renew our visas as well as to reconnect with friends/supporters in that part of the country. We also look forward to this time because Don's parents are able to drive down to be with us. That means we will have seen both sets of parents within the same month of time! The kids might not know what to do when our household returns to our little family of five.

Thanks so much for hanging in there with us through prayer and encouragement and financial support. Every single day, we are reminded of God's hand upon our lives and feel blessed to be a small part of equipping and encouraging His servants here in Chichicastenango.

(Heather)

gratitude

2011-09-12T15:12:00.003-06:00

On Saturday evening, our family enjoyed a movie night by renting "Soul Surfer" and hanging out together. Part way through the movie, Bethany goes for a short-term mission trip to Thailand to help the victims of the tsunami. She herself has gone through quite the ordeal of being attacked by a shark, losing most of her left arm, and working through the challenges that have become her reality as she learns to live with one arm.

One of the most poignant moments in the movie is during her service to the people of Thailand when she realizes the depth of their pain at having lost entire families, homes, churches, crops...everything. Bethany does some soul-searching and realizes that even though she has lost an arm, she has not lost much in comparison to the people of Thailand.

It was a touching movie, but I think I was most impacted when my own daughter, watching the people that Bethany was serving, said, "I bet those people are not even complaining 'cause at least they are getting what they need."

How profound. And she doesn't even know it, really.

I don't know about you, but what I've seen is that the people who do the most complaining are the ones who have come from the most excess...who think they deserve the most. Unfortunately, thinking that we deserve good things in life has become a normal paradigm for the majority of people from North America. In contrast, it seems that people who come from a life in which every day is another struggle for survival, where no one expects that they will rise to a higher standard of living than the generation before them, where everyone is about the business of working day-by-day so that they can buy food day-by-day don't spend as much time being bitter about what they deserve and haven't gotten, but instead spend their time simply living in the present.

I know that I risk alienating some readers who will think that I'm being critical of people in the US, but, honestly, this post has more to do with what God has shown me in my own life than what I'm trying to say about yours. I know that my tendency is to think that our family deserves to go on vacation, deserves to get a better couch instead of having one that gives us all backaches, deserves to be able to keep up with the latest technology.

But, I'm having a harder and harder time justifying just why I deserve these things, while pretending that my Guatemalan neighbors somehow do not.

I can't say it's because we work harder. Yes, I may work incredibly hard and I may put 110% into everything I do. But, it's prideful and naive to think that my 110% is worth more than the 110% of effort that the local "mule" puts in hiking up and down these mountains carrying extremely heavy loads strapped around his head.

The truth is, if I (and maybe you, too) spent more time thinking I didn't deserve anything good at all...I (and hopefully you) would be much more inclined to live with a spirit of gratitude all the time.

Sure, my family might still be able to go on vacation, but it would be with a totally different perspective if I tols myself that there's no good reason why we should get to go on a vacation. It just happens to be a really great gift from One who loves us.

And, it's most likely that we will purchase a new couch sometime in the next year so that we can not have our health suffer anymore. But what a difference it would make if we approach that purchase with hearts of gratitude because we can buy a new couch in the first place.

As for the technology, it's actually refreshing to live outside of the culture that thinks you must have the latest version of a new phone, new computer, or new television nearly every year. Maybe we'll just leave that one alone. Then again, we can be grateful that we have the choice to begin with.

The reason Ali's comment struck me so deeply is because the reality is that my needs have always been met. Always. In fact, I have always had way more than I ever needed. Always.

That fact alone should be enough to keep me from complaining.

May He give me (and you, too) a heart of gratitude.

(Heather)

pure joy

2011-09-09T08:32:00.002-06:00

Sometimes when life is heavy here, as it is right now in the season of elections, it's really refreshing for us to capture moments when people are just plain happy. I love the way this guy's eyes disappear because of his gigantic smile. He was hanging out at one of our children's ministry programs watching as the team did all kinds of silly things to communicate their message and keep the audience entertained. And since our Guatemalan friends are often more serious (not grumpy, but serious), to have these moments when pure joy breaks across their faces is a breath of fresh air.

(Heather)

election week

2011-09-04T20:50:00.003-06:00

This coming Sunday, the Guatemalan people will vote for a new president, new mayors, and new congress members.

This is the first time that we've been in the country during an election period. I don't know what we expected, but I'm pretty sure we had no idea about the sheer number of political signs, painted telephone poles, and rocks with political graffiti that would take over the landscape. I'm also sure that we didn't know how complicated the world of politics is in a country that is still trying to recover from the effects of a 20+-year civil war. Not to mention the far too many leaders (business, political, legal, and so on) who are corrupt and largely influenced (otherwise read as "owned") by drug cartels. We weren't prepared for the cynicism that flavors people's conversations and attitudes in regards to the political parties, nor the disbelief they cling to about whether anyone who takes office will actually be able/willing/honest enough to make any real changes.

Politics in Guatemala is not just messy the way that most of us North Americans think of messy politics. It's downright dangerous. In this election period alone, more than 30 politicians have been killed. Sometimes those murders have come at the hands of a political party that conspires to create violence only so that they can be the ones who wrap their cloaks around their necks, place their hands on their hips, and save the day by pledging to clean up the violence. At other times, the violence has been used as intimidation so that supporters of competing parties will be discouraged from voting at all.

Besides being perilous, it's nearly impossible to prove that any political party has a majority vote or that any candidate wins. I say this because there are nearly 25 different political parties. They don't all have presidential candidates in the race, but, still, there are so many divisions, so many choices that the general support for any certain party or any specific candidate is just not that strong.

In fact, most of the parties in existence now were not in existence 15 years ago. And most of the parties in existence for this specific election will not survive after the election. They are too small and too weak to hang on past one season of defeat. The parties on the political scene are constantly changing, and politicians quickly (and sometimes in corrupt ways) change alliances from one political party to another.

There have been numerous roadblocks and demonstrations, an increase in violence against tourists, scandals about top presidential candidates getting divorces simply so they can run in a race in which immediate family members of former presidents are supposed to be prohibited from running. The confusion, uncertainty, violence, and messiness are only likely to grow stronger as the week progresses. And if the elections don't go well and don't have a really clear winner, then all those negative issues will drag out for the next several months.

Anyways, I've never studied politics. I don't know much about each candidate. And I can't vote. Yet I long for the Guatemalan people to have a person in authority who is honest, who is fair, and who has a sincere desire to clean up crime and corruption and care for the people well.

If you think of us this week, please join us in praying for the elections and the leadership of Guatemala.

(Heather)

good samaritan moment

2011-08-28T21:14:00.003-06:00

Don and I made a trek to the capital this past weekend. It was partly an attempt to get away and give ourselves space to breathe and recover from the weeks of emotionally/spiritually hard stuff we've gone through. It was also partly to cross some things off our list like checking out reputable hotels that we might take my parents to in October when they come and to do our periodic "big" shopping trip in Gautemala City.

About 30 minutes into our trip on Friday morning, just as we started to exhale knowing that the hand-off of kids and the packing and getting out the door had happened successfully, our best laid plans began to take a turn for the worse when we came upon a "manifestacion"...better known as a human roadblock. Where we live, there is generally only one road used for the entire three-hour trip into the capital. Come mudslides or construction or riots, travelers simply shrug their shoulders and figure that where they had planned to go will have to wait for another day.

I was disappointed in the possiblity of sitting in a roadblock for the rest of the day. Date nights...even ones with tasks attached to them...are few and far between, and I was not a happy girl at the prospect of sitting in traffic for the next 7 hours or having to turn around and go back home with no tasks accomplished and no delicious dinner date with my husband.

But then it turned out that I didn't really have anything to be concerned about. 'Cause just as we were about to put our feet up on the dashboard and hunker down with our few CDs and a quiet car to have hours of conversation while we waited, another driver walked up to our window and asked us to move our car up just a little bit so he could turn around and go the other direction. Oh, and if we wanted to follow him, he would get us through "the back way" to keep going to the city.

Trusting him and driving off onto some unknown route may not seem like the smartest move we've made in a country with kidnappings, extortion, and people generally not actually knowing how to give directions from one place to another. But there was something about his demeanor, a look in his eyes, and his complete disinterest in our "gringo-ness" that gave us peace to follow him.

Before we knew it, we were off on a different adventure. Seeing parts of the countryside and little villages we've never heard of before. Using our 4WD to navigate our way through a small river (the only option since the road we were supposed to be on had already washed away). Laughing at the extremely terrible condition of the roads and how our insides were being totally jiggled apart. And feeling gratitude when, at last, we came out at an intersection with the main road that we have seen many times, but never knew where it led in the other direction.

We felt strangely like we had accomplished something. We became familiar with new territory and we acquired a different sense of security knowing that there actually is more than one way out of our town and back to the capital.

More than those things, though, we were grateful to be the recipients of someone else's Good Samaritan moment. That guy didn't need to offer to help us. Or, once seeing that we were white foreigners, he could have offered to help us...for a large sum of money. He could have been untrustworthy and intended to harm us. But none of those things were the reality.

Instead, it just turns out he was a helpful guy who knew where he was and where he wanted to be. And he was kind enough to take us under his wings for a few hours to get us there.

(Heather)

visit from an old friend

2011-08-25T08:59:00.004-06:00

It's difficult to actually have authentic relationships with the indigenous people of Guatemala. It takes time and sensitivity as there are religious, cultural and social barriers to overcome, as well as the language.

My closest friend here is Victor. He used to work for my family as a gardener. But he was much more than that. I would often spend Saturdays working side by side with him...laughing and discussing the future. He would even share his hopes and dreams with me. We made trips together into the city. He was the closest thing I have experienced as true friendship here.

And then one day he left.

This "leaving" was painful as he was under a cloud of suspicion for some mischief that had occurred on site at Casa Del Rey. He was a prime suspect even though no one had proof to condemn. All the signs pointed to him, and he could no longer hold under the scrutiny.

But I had missed him more and more recently. I finally had the courage to walk up to his home only to be greeted by strangers (to me) who had moved into his house. The word was that he had left town with his family and sought meaningful work and friendships elsewhere. But I couldn't get him (or his family) out of my mind.

We prayed and we waited.

And then a couple of weeks ago he showed up at my gate with his family in tow. We hugged and spent some time together sharing stories.

I was pleased to find that Victor is a pastor in a village in the mountains now! I am so proud of him and what he is accomplishing with his life.
He said that I had been on his mind lately as well, and that he wanted to pray for our family.

We stood in a circle in our home as he cried out to God for blessings and peace for our family. He prayed against Satan and asked God to protect us. He thanked God for our friendship and brotherhood in Christ.

We all hugged again, and then they left.

I thank God for this relationship that spans all of the divides and meshes our hearts together. He is a true brother, and I know we will spend an eternity together.

Victor, with his family: Brandon, Jeymi, and Cyndi

happy day, little olivia

2011-08-22T21:01:00.004-06:00

A few weeks ago, Olivia celebrated her 2nd birthday, but we've been so busy updating other blogs that she got forgotten. So goes being the third child.

Here and now, we present to you the newly 2-year old Olivia!

If you didn't look closely, look again. Please notice her eyes. This is the exact look I get from her at least 10 times a day. It is one that somehow completely portrays her determination and her absolute unwillingness to bend to the expectations of anyone else. While this could be great news for those tumultuous years when she will need to stand strong against negative peer-pressure, this will not necessarily be a trait that bodes well for our family life throughout the next few years.

With the fresh taste of chocolate cupcake in her mouth (all because of her not-to-be-trusted-mother forcing her to take a bite as seen in the photograph above), she understands the deliciousness of the treat sitting before her. And her demeanor immediately changes.

The Little People plane was a perfect choice for this little person. She has already flown 5 times in her young life, so she has some background knowledge of what a plane is. Plus, when she was at her Granny and Pap-pa's house back in the Spring, one of her favorite activities was verbalizing her amazement each time a plane flew over their house (which was quite often since they live along a flight path).

We couldn't quite make it through the birthday celebration with the pigtails staying in place, but even with the wild hair, I love the look in her eyes in this photo as she discovers the wonders of fun things being hidden inside paper that you get to rip!

And finally, the Little People zoo catches her attention and gives us a chance to practice animal names and animal sounds. (Thanks Grandma and Grandpa!). Even I am learning to stretch my imagination and role play with these fun toys so that Olivia will have some ideas of how to play with them on her own.

It was a mostly quiet, spread out day of remembering Olivia's entrance into our lives and being thankful all over again that she is here. She is the funniest, most opinionated, most intriguing, (and, yes, sometimes most tiring) little girl we know. We are blessed to know her and to have her in our midst.

(Heather)

searching for treasures in a dump

2011-08-18T08:32:00.009-06:00

We could barely hide our disgust as the stench enveloped us. This was supposed to be an uplifting experience for our visiting team from Carlisle. We had notched out a part of our day to serve lunch to some of the kids from the Guatemala City Dump. But we hadn't planned on perching with the vultures on a cemetery precipice overlooking the raw and ugly scene below. It wasn't so much what we saw or smelled that affected us (although that was bad enough), it was what we felt.

Pure. Undiluted. Hopelessness.

Some of us covered our noses and mouths.

Some of us walked away and distracted ourselves with photo ops. Some of us silently cried. And some of us asked clarifying questions to help digest the scene more fully.

After a few moments I was asked to pray...

What can one pray in these moments? That life will get better for these garbage scavengers? Because that's highly unlikely. That they will have a good experience of hunting and discovering whatever garbage will sustain their family for another day? Because that seems awfully temporal. That they will be protected from disease and pestilence? Or that somehow, and in someway they will someday know a different life than the one that is their current reality?

What would you pray?

Moments like these help us discover what we really believe. Do we really believe that God is enough? Do we really believe that the worst thing is not to live a life of scavenging, but to live a life without God? Do we really believe that the next life will far outweigh and overcome whatever difficulties we face in this temporary life?

Is it better to live scavenging in garbage for food and clothing and to know God, or to live in a comfortable home with all our needs met and NOT know Him? It's good to think about that...

And how do our lives look from His vantage point? How many of us are existing by scavenging in earthly garbage dumps for treasures that are not really treasures at all...asking for temporary things to sustain our eternal appetites? How many of us are afraid to let go of a half-eaten apple while God is reaching His hand out for us to hold?

I was glad for this experience. I was glad for our team to see, smell and process the dump, and witness the thousands of "treasures" scavenging for daily sustenance.

But my prayer for Christians in the States (and myself, of course) is that we would just as easily feel and see the pure, undiluted hopelessness when people try to live their lives outside of a relationship with the Creator...no matter how clean and comfortable their lives look on earth.

(Don)

Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ.

keepin' on

2011-08-16T20:53:00.003-06:00

This past weekend, God reminded us of the strength and encouragement we can draw from one another when we function as His family is meant to function. As detailed in one of the blogs from last week, our family has experienced a great deal of heaviness and spiritual attack over the past several weeks, and we felt like we had run out of strength to keep going-it alone. We thought it made sense to cry out to the people who keep up with what's going on with us, the people who are already praying for and supporting us in a variety of ways and reading this blog.

In doing that, we neglected to remember that we have an entire body of believers to lift us up right here in Chichicastenango! But those faithful friends did not neglect to remind us of their love, concern, and fierce desire to stand in this battle with us.

On Sunday morning, a fellow missionary stood in front of the church and shakily shared with the church that she was calling on the other missionaries to surround "their pastor" both physically and spiritually by meeting at our home on Sunday night to engage in prayer and worship. Listening to her stand up on our behalf reminded me of the roots of relationship God has been growing here over the past several years.

Many of the people who attend church regularly now only attended sporadically, at best, when we first arrived. We have humbly listened as one missionary after another declared that they didn't know if they could stay on the field if it weren't for the feeding they receive at church and the fellowship with other believers they are finally enjoying with missionaries from many different organizations in our town. God has allowed seeds of unity and spirtual healthiness to grow among his servants here, and we are incredibly blessed to be a small part of that.

Sunday night, our dear brothers and sisters descended upon our home with their spirtual armor drawn and ready. They walked through our home declaring the Lord's truths and promises. Many of them spoke out praises of his provision and protection. Some engaged in practices that we were familiar and comfortable with, and others demonstrated gestures that were new and different from the religious practices of our backgrounds. But if there is anything we have learned from pastoring a church of multi-denominational followers of Christ, it is that there is room for a variety of expressions of faith.

The strengthening continued last night when two of our friends who are also worship leaders brought their guitars and their voices to share in an intimate time of worship with just us and them prior to the kids' bedtime. They spoke words of peace and encouragement into our children's ears by helping them understand how God uses our worship to draw us closer to himself and to remind us of the strength and joy we can gain from lifting our hearts up to him. And then we sang together, and the kids went to bed with refrains from praise songs running through their heads.

Though sleep still alluded our family (because of what we believe are secondary issues at this point), what we received in terms of being absolutely enveloped in the folds of his flock has warmed us and given us stamina to keep on keepin' on. The tables kind of turned on us in this moment of ministry, but boy were we blessed to have Christ's body take care of their own by caring so well for us.

(Heather)

t.i.g., take 2, part 2

2011-08-14T14:50:00.002-06:00

Last week, I wrote a story about the mostly unsuccesful trip we took to get our visas renewed. And in that retelling (much as it really happened), I left you with a cliff-hanger. Okay, maybe calling it a cliff-hanger is elevating my writing to a level that is just a bit too high, but I purposefully did not tell you the end of the story. So let me begin where we left off.

On Monday morning, Don arose at 5:30am to make his way back into the city, this time with a friend/translator named Christian. The goal was to get to the photo place when it opened, get those photos in hand, then head over to the immigration office to finally get everything turned in.

Picking up the photos went off without a hitch.

Getting the visas renewed? Not.so.much.

As soon as they got to the office, the guys took a number and sat down. Once their number was called, they approached the window and presented the paperwork. Numerous round-about and confusing conversations later, it turns out that the immigration office didn't want to renew our visas because they were convinced that the current stamps we had were not legitimate! Though the stamps looked exactly like all the other stamps we have, we somehow were not in their computer system as having come through immigration control at the airport, so they thought we had illegally acquired our visas.

Don tried to reason with them saying that obviously if he was standing before them in person, and because he is obviously a person from the United States, he most certainly must have come on an airplane, gone through the check at the airport, and received the stamp in the same way that we always have in the past.

The immigration officers wanted nothing to do with this version of the story. They would not, could not place an extension on a visa that they did not believe was valid in the first place. Even having Christian there to facilitate the conversation back and forth did not help the officers come to a realization of what had to be an error on the part of something in the system. How were we to prove that we came the way we said we did and received the stamps the way we said we did? There was nothing that could be done.

Finally, Don proposed his take on things. If they were saying our stamps were illegal and their system had no record of us entering the country, then there was no reason to renew the visas in the first place, right? I mean, if we were now in the country, but they said they don't "know" we're in the country (even though Don was standing right in front of them), and they were not going to give us a new stamp to extend our stay because they didn't have a record of us coming in in the first place, then why pull out our hair trying to convince them that we were attempting to do the right thing by asking and paying for the extension? The officers essentially agreed with him, acknowledging that if we didn't have a "real" stamp, there wasn't any reason to ask for an extension.

Talk about confusion. We were in a position in which we couldn't convince them of our above-board, completely routine method of arriving on a plane and going through their airport procedures. And maybe there wouldn't be any need in the next few months for us to show our passports and reveal that we were now past our limited period of acceptable time of being here. But then we would still have potential problems when trying to exit the country when the clerks at the airport counter would open our passports, see that they are long past-due, but find that we aren't in the computer system to pay a fine.

So, the men stood around talking and peering at the paperwork for a few more minutes. Finally, Christian noticed on one of the kids' papers that the children did have the records of their entrance at the airport! The officers kind of shrugged their shoulders and admitted that, indeed, the children's paperwork, and therefore visas seemed to be valid. And it only made sense that if all three kids came through the airport process, then the parents must have been with them.

Thank goodness for just a smidgen of common sense on that one.

And so, after hours of conversation and being shuffled from one big-whig's office to another, Don was able to submit our paperwork and officially apply for our visa extensions.

So glad to know we are not illegal immigrants in this country.

And so glad to be done with this hassle...at least for another few months.

(Heather)

prayer intervention

2011-08-11T08:37:00.002-06:00

Several years ago, when we first moved here, we had numerous encounters with spiritual warfare unlike anything we had experienced in the US. A strange heaviness would seem to hang over the house. Kids would wake up with inexplicable nightmares and fears. We would hear disconcerting noises outside, and the next day find bags of chicken parts, an evil omen someone was purposefully throwing our way.

In those initial months of learning this new culture and having our eyes opened to realities we were not accustomed to, we relied heavily on prayer, having friends do prayer walks through our house with us, keeping ourselves on alert to recognize when spiritual battles were coming our way.

Things seemed to settle down quite a bit after the first few months, but we've recently noticed a spike in the occurence of some disturbing instances. Ali has been waking up at night for weeks now with a very real fear of something bad being around her or about to happen to her. There have been strange screaming noises and incantations happening outside late at night. Don has taken up post on our couch many nights to be closer and more ready for the kids, and even he has heard unnatural groans and noises that have set him on edge. Last night, when he ran into Ali's room upon hearing those strange noises again, he found her sitting straight up in bed seeming to scream for help, yet no sound was coming from her mouth.

We've moved Aidan back into the room with Ali to get her over this hump of fearfulness. We have prayed extensively with them before they go to sleep and when Ali wakes up in the middle of the night in the midst of her nightmares. We've had other people check on us to ask if we are okay because even they have had disturbing dreams about us. We've checked with neighbors and communicated some of our concerns, and they have shared how they also have been feeling a different sort of evil around them. It's a strange, unsettling reality of our life at the moment.

My purpose in sharing these things is not to shock you or communicate about a reality that seems wildly different from what we experienced in the States. It is to petition for your prayers. The battles are real, and we need reinforcements. We know that your prayers make a difference, so would you please join with us?

We know that we may not always be safe. We don't expect things to be peachy-perfect all the time. But we do know we have an almighty God who is ruler over everything, and we want to experience his great peace and the knowledge that he is with us and around us at all times. We also want our kids to begin to realize his presence in their lives as well so that they will not be afraid and so that they would believe in a power even greater and more able than their mom and dad.

(Heather)

t.i.g., take 2

2011-08-09T14:29:00.003-06:00

Last spring, I posted a blog describing some of the nuisances we deal with on a regular basis which make life more complicated, but which we've also gotten used to. I lightheartedly referred to these instances as "T.I.G." moments, or "This is Guatemala" moments. Friday was T.I.G., Take 2, an even greater test of our patience which led to an even deeper awareness of how the T.I.G. reality impacts our lives.

We had reached the end of the 90 days of validity for our visas. We are allowed to request one extension for another 90 days before we must leave the country/cross a border. Because of some other traveling we've done in the past year, this was actually the first time in awhile that we had needed to request this extension.

I dutifully looked up the requirements on the website, printed out the forms we needed, started making photocopies and gathering the official documents they would want to see from us. With our three kids packed into the car and my little envelope of very important information, we set off to get the last thing we knew we needed...photos.

Our grand plan was to have the photos taken, wait for a minimal amount of time for them to be developed, add them to the packet, and then drive over to Migracion and turn everything in. Living three hours from the capital means that we get as much done in each visit as we can. Since we already knew we would have to return a week later to pick up all the paperwork (with our renewed visas), we were trying to be wise and careful about having absolutely everything we needed to do what we could on this specific day.

We thought this would be a fairly simple process of going to a street behind the embassy where we have had pictures taken before. Hordes of men surrounded the car as we approached and then hustled us into their store as if we were celebrities and they were the paparazzi who were just dying for our attention.

Not more than a minute after getting out of the car, our "star treatment" ended as I showed my paperwork to the shop owners and they conveyed that they could not take the pictures we were required to have. Apparently they don't do black and white. And they only do instant. Neither of those points was in our favor. Just as we were being jostled back out the door, I overheard them say a name, "Photo Roma". Good thing I caught that piece of information as it floated through the conversation, because it is the only true or helpful thing we heard for the next several hours.

The people in the shop could not give us any clear ideas about where this Photo Roma place was, but an old man standing outside the shop spoke to us in broken English and said, "It's just on the other side of Reforma. In Plaza Espana."

We thought we could work with that. Plaza Espana was the same place where we had to get Olivia's birth certificate and register her as a new citizen of Guatemala. So we packed all the kids back up in the car again, found parking, unloaded everyone, and began walking around the block of Plaza Espana looking for this photo place. After many minutes of slowly scouring every store front, I finally walked into a restaurant and asked them if they knew where it was. The lady looked confidently at me and said it was three more blocks straight in front of Plaza Espana.

And here is when we really began to lose confidence. You see, most people in Guatemala pretend they know where something is located...and then they smile and give you false directions. It's a part of life. And most missionaries know that if you're desperate enough to ask for directions, there is very little hope that you will find what you are looking for anyway. But when you are in a country you don't know, on a map grid that doesn't make sense, in a place where you know only bits and pieces of the language, what choice do you have?

I kindly thanked her and then immediately erased her advice from my head. I was sure it wouldn't help.

On we walked, until just up ahead, I noticed Union Church. This is a church in Guatemala City for the English-speaking community. My brilliant idea was that if we could get someone inside the church to help us, at least it would be in a language we understood. What I was neglecting to remember is that we were expecting someone in this city of 3 million people to know where this one tiny little photo place is.

Can anyone say "Looking for a needle in a haystack?"!

Again, after many minutes of dialogue and confusing conversation with a few people in the church, we were even less sure than before of where this place might be. Upon looking in the phonebook, we could at least confirm that it existed. But it most definitely was not within walking distance of Plaza Espana, and even as the kind people tried to explain where it was, we knew it was not a task we could undertake alone because we just don't know the city well enough.

Enter Roberto. He was the man who thought to get the phonebook. And he was the man who offered to come with us so we could find this obscure store. He had never actually heard of it before, but he knew city addresses enough to get us to the general area. With a little distracted conversation and sketchy translations, he led us to 20th Street and then we all walked together to find the exact location.

Once we saw the Photo Roma sign, we thought our troubles were over. The fiasco of going to three different places before finally getting to the right place had already taken more than two hours of time, and we were anxious to succeed at something. But when we walked in the door, the owner looked at our paper, looked back at us, and proceeded to tell us that they could indeed take the pictures we needed, but we couldn't get them back until Monday.

Ugh. My shoulders slumped as it finally hit me that even with the most careful of planning and the most meticulous reading and preparation of the paperwork, we had been defeated. Sometimes I think this is the plan of the Guatemalan government agencies. Change the requirements. Add multiple layers of demands that require more and more trips into the city. See how complicated and confusing the processes can be so that they can weed out the weak links.

That's it. It's their own little test of the "survival of the fittest". Three hours, four locations, and a splitting headache later, I was ready to wave my white flag of surrender. But then that would mean leaving the country because our visas would no longer be valid.

Instead, with just a slight attitude of bitterness and disappointment, we posed for our photos, paid the fee, gave a small donation to Roberto, and went on our way. No stop at Migracion. No feeling of accomplishment that we had actually completed the task we set out to do. There wasn't anything else we could do about it.

That's just the way it is. T.I.G.

So, on Monday morning, at 5:30am, Don raised himself from slumber and set out to finish the job. And...the fiasco that ensued on that day is another T.I.G. story for another day...

(Heather)

children's ministry

2011-08-08T14:14:00.003-06:00

The children marched down the steep hill one-by-one, singing, talking, laughing as they came. Some smiled shyly as they passed by the team members who were anxiously awaiting their arrival. Others raised their hands in the universal sign of friendship and greeting. After a few chaotic moments, all the kids were inside the church while teachers, mothers, grandmothers, and aunts stood warily by the doorways and windows to see what this foreign group of people was going to do.

Then a local pastor began to lead the children in some singing. The enthusiasm and happiness finally began to settle among the crowd as they joined in on tunes like "Heads, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes" and "Father Abraham." After that, the team members (and Ali and Aidan) acted out the parable of the lost sheep. In a very simple, straightforward way, the children heard and saw a classic Bible story.

Then we all joined together in prayer.

Finally, the crowd was split into smaller groups, some of whom worked on a craft to take home as a reminder of the Bible lesson while others went outside to play group games. There was lots of giggling and chattering while everyone played and worked.

And by the end of the morning, not only had the children heard a story of God's desperate love for them, but they saw it in the eyes and smiles of the American friends who had come so far to share it.

(Heather)

home construction

2011-08-07T14:49:00.005-06:00

During the middle of the week, it became increasingly hard for me to find time to update the blog to share with you about the ministry that was happening while the Carlisle BIC church team was here. Even though it's a little delayed, hopefully this entry will give just a little insight into what happens when teams come to serve.

Each morning on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, the team packed up their gear and headed out to some of the remote villages surrounding Chichicastenango. They would then split into various groups, some that put together children's programs similar to a VBS and others that worked on construction of little houses.

In our organization, people in need can submit applications to have groups come and build a house for them. Then, local pastors as well as the Guatemalans entrusted with leadership positions in CCDA (the Guatemalan side of Missions Frontier) sort through those applications, decide which ones to accept, and prioritize them based on need.

People here need houses for a variety of reasons. This year, the team built a house for a 74-year old widow who had been raped by four different men who then proceeded to burn down her house. Another house was built for a pastor who lost his home, his possessions, and his church in the mudslides following Tropical Storm Agatha. Sometimes homes are built for elderly couples who are still caring for an adult, disabled child.

At other times, homes are built for an older woman whose alcoholic husband has sold their property out from under her...all so he could get another drink.

The teams who come to build always go through a wide range of emotions as they meet the people they have come to serve, as they hear their stories, as they see the tears of joy on those recipients' faces at being handed the keys to their new house, and then as the team members wrestle with questions about their own lives of privilege.

It's an emotional, challenging, leave-you-in-a-state-where-you-know-life-will-never-be-the-same kind of experience. We're still dealing with some of the confusion, disappointment, wonder, and awe even after serving here for three years. And we feel blessed to be able to walk this journey even if for a very short period of time with the people who choose to come on a short-term mission. It's not just life changing for the people who receive a house. Team members seem to see God and to meet him here in ways that are completely new and heart-opening. And we are blessed to be a part of the ministry that happens for the Guatemalans, but also for what happens within our friends and co-workers from the U.S.

(Heather)

mixing work with pleasure

2011-08-01T14:11:00.003-06:00

We have our home team here from Carlisle BIC this week. Whenever we have visiting teams, we try to make sure that they see more than one side of this amazing country. So, in the first few days of the trip this year, our team has had the chance to enjoy Lake Atitlan by boat, go ziplining through a nature reserve, and hike up to an ancient (though still used) spiritual holy ground. Today begins their work on construction and children's ministry, but I will have to add those stories and photos later. Here are a few photos of the excursions thus far.

tumolandia

2011-07-26T13:18:00.003-06:00

Speed bumps are generally intended to slow down traffic, to warn of something important coming up like a school zone or a playground. We adhere to them with moderate annoyance mostly because not respecting them would bring serious damage to our cars. Believing that something tragic would happen on our watch because of our carelessness is not generally at the forefront of our thoughts.

Well, here in Guatemala, I can't say that speed bumps have that same purpose. The placement of speed bumps is so non-sensical and absurd that most of us foreigners make a game of counting them and trying to figure out what they are for. Sometimes they really are placed in spots that are in front of a municipal building or along a stretch of road where cars would have the tendency to speed if not for their presense. In most places, though, they seem to be used by businesses as a futile attempt at getting attention. They believe that if people must slow down to go over the speed bump, maybe they'll just go ahead and stop instead, and then they'll get out of their cars and wander over to the little tienda to see what they can buy.

Seriously?!

Yes.

Never mind that nearly every building along the road is a combination of a family home and a little tienda. Never mind that every single one of those little tiendas sells tiny little bags of chips and frozen chocolate-covered bananas and soda in twisty-tied sandwich baggies. Apparently the great marketing plan here is to sell what your neighbor is selling and then create a tumulo (speed bump) in front of your buildings to "attract" more customers.

On my way back from running an errand this morning, I did my own bit of research about this speed bump phenomena. Along a 4.5 mile stretch of the road I was on, I had to slow down, shift gears, and then accelerate once again while going over 25 speed bumps. 25 speed bumps in less than 5 miles!

And that is why this particular stretch of highway is now affectionately known by our family as "Tumolandia." If you don't understand it and can't change it...at least have fun with it. :)

hope deferred

2011-07-19T13:17:00.010-06:00

I was talking to a dear friend last week, and I have to admit that what she shared with me shook me. She was describing the painstakingly slow process that her family went through after the recent birth of her third daughter. They had gone to the US to have the baby in a birthing center and then planned on returning to Guatemala as soon as they could. Little did they know that going this route would get them stuck in the American bureaucracy for nearly four months!

Helaine was then describing how frustrating it was for her husband to show up in the government offices every.single.day and not get any answers week after week and month after month. They changed their plane tickets several times and had to absorb the cost of doing that. They worried often about the school they had left behind. With the teachers and students still in the middle of their school year, and Greg and Helaine as the non-present leaders, things could have gotten really out of control, yet there was nothing they could do to get back any sooner. Plus, they had to live for months in a place that was not their home with their whole lives packed into suitcases.

In the midst of this conversation, Helaine mentioned her personal frustrations with the slowness of the process and how she spent so much time questioning what God was doing and why he wasn't helping them get back to the ministry for which they are responsible. She talked about how she heard sermons and had conversations with different people during their time in the States. One person shared with her a reminder that God seems to answer in the 11th hour, requiring us to be in a place of desperation and dependence before he makes the way clear. Another person shared how they thought maybe there are times when God doesn't seem to answer us right away because whatever lesson we're learning we still haven't gotten.

At the mention of these ideas, I began to feel the frustration and injustice building inside of me.

Certain struggles in our lives have been going on for 12, 13, even 14 hours already, and God hasn't answered. And it's awfully disheartening to think that maybe we're still in the midst of those struggles because there's still more for us to learn.

What if we're beyond exhausted? What if we are so discouraged and worn out that we can't imagine what lessons are possibly left to learn? Doesn't God know that if we could just get this answer, have this resolution, move on from this particular issue, we could serve him so much more fully? (And, yes, in my terrible, arrogant moments, I actually think that I know what is better for us than God does.)

Another friend sent me a verse yesterday. It was Proverbs 13:12, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life." Even as Rebecca wrote that, she admitted that it's not a verse that sounds helpful when you are still being asked to defer your hope, but she was at least trying to empathize with the longing we feel. I want to be in the latter half of that verse where we are vibrant and healthy and perpetually moving forward because of the fulfillment of our longing, but God hasn't granted us that yet.

Then I began to think of all the people out there who have an unfulfilled hope...to have a child, to reconcile with a parent, to see a lost friend come to the Lord, to escape their financial debt, to be free from a disease that's invading their body, to find a job, to find a spouse. These are things that sometimes consume our thoughts and our lives. And we know that the answers to those longings are not always the ones we hoped for.

David knew a lot about this longing and suffering and enduring. In Psalm 27:13 -14 he wrote, "I would have despaired unless I believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; Be strong, and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the Lord."

Those words seem to point to the only thing that brings peace and contentment. We must believe that the Lord is good. Even when we don't get answers. Even when the answers we get are not the answers we want. Even when the 11th hour seems to have come and gone and we are still waiting. We hang on to the hope of his goodness.

(Heather)

just like daddy

2011-07-16T12:40:00.003-06:00

In our slow-paced morning, Olivia had the chance to sit up on our bathroom counter and watch her daddy do something she's never seen him do before. Shave. She was fascinated and in awe of the fluffy white shaving cream he spread all over his face and was equally curious when he scraped it all off with the razor. It made me smile to watch my little girl take in this manly ritual.

We thought nothing more of it. Just thought it had been a cute moment that I was able to catch on film.

Several hours later, during lunchtime, we watched a different humorous drama unfold. I'm sure you can figure out what it was if we simply tell you that Olivia had a dollop of whipped cream on her plate, not because we thought she would make a connection, but because her big sister had enjoyed some whipped cream on her blackberries, and little sister didn't want to miss out on that treat.

Yes, whipped cream became shaving cream, and as Olivia dipped her fingers in and spread it all over her face, we just stood there and laughed at this imaginative, mimicking little girl.

t.i.g.

2011-07-14T08:33:00.003-06:00

Sometimes those of us who live in other countries come up with ways of shrugging off the inexplicable and reminding ourselves that life as we knew it is no longer life as we know it. I've heard several people refer to that as T.I.H. (as in, "This is Haiti") or T.I.C.R. (as in, This is Costa Rica). Just lask week, I heard another missionary here say it as T.I.G. He knew that what he thought he had planned probably would not work out as he hoped because we live in a whole other world here. This is Guatemala.

We recently made a trip back to Guatemala City to take care of a few things, and I smiled many times along the way at some T.I.G. moments. Here are some examples.

1. You wish to have a bottle of water with your movie snack combo instead of soda. This exchange costs you the same amount of money while actually helping the theater save money, but since they do not have a button in their system to make the exchange, they refuse to let you do it. T.I.G.

2. You go in for a routine cleaning at the dentist expecting to have your teeth brushed, picked, and flossed, but instead you proceed to have your teeth powerwashed in a way that is quite painful. The dentist's solution for taking care of the pain is to swish chamomile tea around in your mouth every two hours. T.I.G.

3. Driving down the road, you politely keep your distance and attempt to go a steady speed. Meanwhile, every 5 seconds a bus pulls out in front of you, causing you to slam on the brakes and practically lose your lunch...only to have the bus put on his brakes or just as abruptly pull back out of your lane 100 yards farther down the street. T.I.G.

4. Random road closings leave you with no other choice than to drive through a parking garage to get where you need to go because you don't know another way to get there. In a dangerous city, you're not about to go on a death-wish adventure to find another path. For the two seconds of driving through the parking garage, you must pay full price. And to make that expenditure even more painful, when you're coming out the other side of the parking garage, you look back to see what caused this great roadblock and ensuing costly detour and see...nothing. T.I.G.

5. The government agrees to do a multi-million dollar road project to clean up mudslides and continue paving the only highway that extends from the capital up to the north/northwestern portions of the country. For three years you watch this construction and become excited about how much faster and smoother the trip will become. But then you begin to notice that portions of the "new" road are blocked off and taken apart. When inquiring as to why that is, you find out the allocated funds have mysteriously become unavailable and instead of building the road the correct way (with rebar underneath the concrete for longevity and stability), they only laid the concrete. Now the whole road is falling apart again and is likely to be worse than ever. T.I.G.

These are things that no longer cause us to pull our hair out in frustration. We've learned to accept things as they are because life is what it is here in Guatemala. But maybe sharing them will give you just another little glimpse of the everyday occurrences we encounter here. Besides, if we continued to be bothered by it all, we'd be bald, and no one thinks that would look very pretty on either one of us.

(Heather)

red, white, and blue

2011-07-07T09:33:00.003-06:00

The photos above represent a sampling of our Missionary Community Church July 4th celebration. We had a great time sharing some of our favorite comfort foods from the US (cornbread, chicken salad, brownies, apple pie) and visiting with one another. Without a doubt, the children's favorite parts were the sparklers and fireworks. It wasn't much compared to the big displays that most towns and cities put on, but as we looked in the sky and saw colors exploding, it was reminder enough of the land most of us call "home". We hope that you, too, enjoyed some great fellowship, yummy food, and fascinating fireworks wherever you were for Independence Day!

angel children

2011-07-05T18:40:00.006-06:00

Every once in awhile, a mom needs to give some public kudos to her kids. Today is one of those days for me.

We are well into our rainy season at this point. In past years, that has mostly meant that we would have normal, warm, sunny days up until the late afternoon, and then we would get a good drenching shower. This year, though, we have experienced what may be the more "typical" rainy season. It's cold. It's gray. The rain can go on all day long and into the night.

We're on our fourth day like that right now. It doesn't sound like it's all that long (and I realize compared to the climates in some countries, I have nothing to complain about, though I am anyway. Humor me.), but with the kids at home all day everyday, four days is a looooooooong time.

But today, it was like the sky opened and some little glimpse of heaven found its way into our home. (I might be exaggerating, but, again, humor me.)

I built a big tent fort in my bedroom, and Olivia was entertained by that "new" space for hours. Aidan got out his K'nex and was consumed by building various projects for hours. Ali rediscovered one of those fun pads that have crossword puzzles, word games, and coloring sheets in it, and she was busy with that for hours.

Yes, folks, I'm telling you those few hours of contented children all doing their own fun things was like a little slice of heaven for this stuck-inside-again-on-a-rainy-day-stay-at-home mom.

And now, I shall go get a good night of sleep. 'Cause I'm pretty sure that whatever the weather is like tomorrow, the "angel" children that were here today are not likely to make an appearance again tomorrow.

celebrating a & a

2011-06-16T14:50:00.004-06:00

For those of you patient enough to continue checking in on our blog, you have likely noticed that it has been nearly three months since we've posted anything new. The gap in our updates was partially due to travel back in the States for a lengthy period of time...and partially due to a simple lapse in knowing what to write.

At any rate, thanks for coming back.

This past Tuesday, we celebrated the 7th birthdays of Aidan and Althea. While it was planned as a low-key, family-only birthday (the first one in three years where we didn't have some party planned or teams here visiting at the same time), God had a different kind of celebration in mind for them. Instead of having "only" the family around, Ali and Aidan were blessed with some impromptu visits by our old neighbors, one of their preschool teachers, and our very special friends from up the road.

Here are a few photos from the memorable occasion.

musings about when helping hurts

2011-03-20T19:54:00.003-06:00

I've never done this "reposting" thing before, but the comments below (from blog friends of ours serving in Haiti -- the Livesays) resonated so deeply with me that I could not pass by it without passing it on to our readers, especially since missionaries and missions teams all over the world are preparing for the team season that comes in the summer months.

Anyone who moves to another culture (with a long-term vision of living in that new culture as opposed to visiting for a week or two weeks or even two months) soon comes to learn that what seems helpful to US (the people with the resources, time, and energy to go to another country to serve) is not necessarily wise or helpful in actuality to THEM (those people whom we want to serve).

I hope you'll read these thoughts with an open heart. None of the comments (nor our agreement with them) are meant to dampen the passion that people feel to help others. That passion is a gift from God. We simply happen to agree that it's important to honor the people whom we are trying to help, and that means thinking of what is best for them, not necessarily what makes us feel good about ourselves.

Here's what the Livesays had to say about all this:

STM= Short Term Missions/Missionaries
LTM = Long Term Missions/Missionaries

Below are random (but true) examples:

A.) Team comes to visit. They go on a walk through the small village they are visiting. One boy speaks English. Everyone migrates to him because he can be communicated with easily. He asks for a bike. One man in the group tells the boy offhandedly that he can have a bike. STM gets to be the hero and make promises. For two years the boy asks the LTM why the bike has not arrived. He does not forget that the white guy said he could have it. The LTM has to field the requests for delivery on the STM promise.

B.) A bike arrives for one kid in a village of 700 kids. A well meaning STM sent it because they really love their child they sponsor in the feeding/school program and they want him to have a bike. The LTM begs the ministry partners in America not to force them to give that bike. The LTM fears the trouble it will cause. The ministry wants to make the donor of the bike happy. They say the LTM must give the bike and take photos. The boy gets the bike. The donor gets the photos. The donor is happy. The boy gets beat up and his bike gets stolen by bigger older boys that are angry that the mission did not give them bikes.

C.) A STM group comes in wanting to help build houses. The LTM suggests they work with Haitians and get their input. The LTM makes many suggestions based on the years in country and the things they have learned about the culture and its building practices. The STM wants to build the house according to their practices and styles of building. They force their way of building onto the group of Haitians they are building the house for and refuse to believe that the Haitians way of doing it has any merit. They finish the house and take many photos of their good work to go home and show their church proudly. The following Sunday the group is sharing their photos at church and the Haitians are tearing off the roof of the house and re-doing the way that they prefer.

D.) A STM group focused on medical care come to offer a one-day free clinic. Word gets out that the team will give out peanut butter if you say that you have a child at home that is anemic. Suddenly every child in the village is anemic.

E.) STM group comes in to host a VBS not having any cultural context or awareness. Gifts are given all week. The kids continue to come to see what gift they will get. Songs are sung and taught in English. The kids speak Creole. A large number of children are "saved" the group does not know that four other STM groups have come through that year and the kids now know that praying for Jesus to come into your heart equals a congratulatory gift.

F.) A STM comes to distribute food. They don't have relationships in the area they are distributing. They don't know what is needed. They don't know who else has worked in that area prior to them. They hand out food for two hours only to realize that there are 300 people that did not get food waiting outside. Fighting starts between those that got food and those that didn't. The group is forced to tuck tail and run before they get stuck in the middle of a fight.

These are just a few examples among dozens and dozens. Haiti is close and easy to visit from the USA. More STM trips happen here than any other country in the world. Since the earthquake teams have increased. Every week - all year long - team after team visits Haiti. Some come to "save" and tell and some come informed and ready to learn and observe. Some come thinking that relationship doesn't matter and they walk around handing out $5 bills and gospel tracts and some come to sit and listen and learn. Some come trying to be aware of what others before and after them will do and others come thinking that what they do matters more to Haiti than any single thing that ever happened here.

A while back we went to a conference where one of the speakers was the author of "When Helping Hurts - How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself". If you are coming to Haiti or Africa or Asia or Guatemala or Timbuktu we think it is wise to read it.

I don't believe the man who offered the bike ever meant to cause so much trouble for the LTM or the kid. I don't believe the VBS group meant to pay kids with gifts to become Christians. I am fairly certain that many groups have not considered that they are one of thousands of STM groups that will come to Haiti this year. I don't think groups come here wanting to foster dependency and send a message that Haitians cannot do things for themselves. Sadly, for many many years we've been doing just this. Not because we wanted to - but just because we came in with the wrong attitude.

Many people, ourselves included, come with good intentions. It is important for us to recognize where we have failed and attempt to learn from our mistakes. We need to realize that good intentions are often times not enough and in the end we might do more harm than good. All of our pride needs to be laid down. Short or long term, we need to be completely open to learning from those that have been here even longer.

A few excerpts from When Helping Hurts:

It is crucial that North American STM teams move beyond ethnocentric thinking that either minimizes cultural differences or immediately assumes that middle to upper class North American cultural norms are always superior to those of other cultures.

By definition, short term missions have only a short time in which to "show profit", to achieve pre-defined goals. This can accentuate our American idols of speed, quantification, compartmentalization, money, achievement, and success. Projects become more important than people. The wells dug. Fifty people converted. Got to give the church back home a good report. Got to prove the time and expense was well worth it. To get the job done (on our time scale), imported technology becomes more important than contextualized methods. Individual drive becomes more important than respect for elders, for old courtesies, for taking time.

Ensure that the "doing" portion of the trip avoids paternalism. Remember, do not do for people what they can do for themselves.

Design the trip to be about "being and "learning" as much as about "doing".

Stay away from the "go-help-and-save-them" message and use a "go as a learner" message. We need no more STM brochure covers with sad, dirty faces of children and the words "Will you die to self and go and serve?" Such a message places too much focus on the sacrifice the STM team is making to change people's lives - a level of change that is simply not realistic in two weeks - and on how helpless the poor people are without the team's help.

Be careful how STM are presented as part of the larger missions movement. Statements such as "If you are serious about missions, then you need to take a short term trip" are common. This is a vast overstatement, as many, many folks serve in missions long term without the short term experience. Furthermore, such messages can give a false impression about what it really takes to do serious missions or community development work.

(Heather)

being content

2011-03-07T13:59:00.005-06:00

I've had on my heart lately this conflict between how I viewed Guatemala when we first came here...and what I see now. I guess it feels like a conflict because the longer I've been here, the less "neediness" I see. And coming from a place of incredible wealth, and unimaginable choices, and blurry lines between wants and needs, there is a certain unease with looking at how little there is here, and finding the confidence to say that they don't need much more.

I, for one, like to kid myself into believing that I need 20 different shirts in my closet, or that a home is not complete without both a living room and a dining room, or that I deserve to have comfortable furniture and pretty wall decorations. I don't really think there is anything morally wrong with having any of these things.

But, if we think it is a guaranteed right to have them...and if in believing so we begin to feel pity for people groups who don't have those same luxuries and think that we owe it to them to help change that, then I think our heart-vision is skewed.

I read a story to the kids today called Cows in the House by Beverly Lewis. It was this little story about a boy in Thailand who is discontent with his surroundings because he has five younger sisters who are always quarreling. He seeks out his great-grandfather for advice, three times, only to have his great-grandfather suggest for him to add other beings into the family all three times. First it's two cows. Then it's two cousins who come for a long visit. And finally it's a band of traveling musicians. After the boy can hardly stand it anymore, his great-grandfather tells him to send all those "guests" back home.

And you know the funny thing that happens? Once the family has returned to its normal state of two parents and six children, the boy is able to be content.

It wasn't because they added on to the house. It wasn't because the boy got to have his own alone time with his great-grandfather to get away from it all. It wasn't because his parents bought him some new toy...or signed him up for the local soccer team...or demanded that all the girls give the boy his "space" and leave him alone for awhile.

Absolutely nothing external changed.

He simply learned to be content with things they way they already were.

I know that my Guatemalan neighbors and friends have learned this lesson far better than I have. And probably far better than most of you have.

They don't need houses with tile floors. As long is there is a roof over their heads and walls to offer them shelter and protection at night, dirt floors work okay.

They don't need refrigerators. They buy the fresh food they need to make their meals each day.

They don't need the latest fashions. Most of them buy used clothing set up in Goodwill-type stores throughout the village. Either that, or they are still wearing the traditional clothing that their ancestors have worn for generations.

They don't need entire rooms or levels of their house to be completely devoted as play areas for their kids. The kids are busy contributing to the work of the family, or they are sent outside to make up ways to play.

They don't need the latest version of iPad or Gameboy. They are much too busy doing schoolwork, helping with the laundry that they wash by hand, preparing the meal that the whole extended family will eat together, or playing a game of pick-up soccer.

This lesson hits me hard. I'm still grasping at things that I think will make me just a little bit happier. Finishing my Master's. Fencing in our yard so that the kids can go outside with a little less supervision. Having a stinkin' Target or library or playground in this town so I can have somewhere to go when I'm pulling my hair out with the kids!

But deep down, I know that nothing external can make me content.

All I can do is pray for that.

And maybe learn a few more lessons from my neighbors.

"For I have learned to be content with whatever I have." Philippians 4:11

(Heather)

the charlie sheen dilemma

2011-03-02T10:35:00.004-06:00

I have been fascinated by Charlie Sheen this past week or so, and maybe you have as well. I told my wife that last night, and she rolled her eyes. (I think she must have been thinking that I was fascinated in a way every guy must be fascinated by a man who lives with two girls he calls his "goddesses" and gets to do what he wants with little thought to anyone else every day all day.) Honestly, who wouldn't want two girls saying of your leadership "I'm on the Charlie bus, I don't care where it's going."

I wonder if Heather will ever say, "I'm on the Don bus, I don't care where it's headed"? I'm laughing at the thought, not actually desiring it.

But that's just why his life is so fascinating right now for me. Because deep down in my own sin nature I know that I am Charlie Sheen. Really, don't we all have Charlie Sheen living in us?

Read some of his "crazy ramblings" from the past few days:

"I'm on a quest to claim absolute victory on every front."
"Dying is for fools. Amateurs."
"I'm proud of what I created. Why wouldn't I be? I exposed people to magic. I exposed them to something that they otherwise would not see in their boring normal lives. And I gave that to them!"
"I mean, what's not to love? Especially when you see how I party. Man, it was epic. The run I was on made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards all of 'em just look like droopy-eyed armless children."
"I am on a drug, it's called 'Charlie Sheen.'"
"I've got magic. I've got poetry at my fingertips."
"It's been a tsunami. And I've been riding it on a mercury surfboard."
"I wanted to watch 'Jaws' on the ocean in the dark and be afraid."

Charlie may be suffering some mental incapacity right now, I'm not a doctor. But I would think he might say that, right now, his life and his thinking have never been more crystal clear. And so what I see from where I sit is a man who gets it. In fact I think he sees life more clearly than 90% of the people we bump into every day.

If there is no God. And if there is no Jesus who saved us. If there is no sanctification process and eternal life. The Charlie Sheen life is the only way to live. There will be no Judge. There will be no consequences beyond the grave. The only way to live like a "winner" in that life is to live like Charlie Sheen. I actually applaud him for not getting caught in the middle.

Because that's where many of us get caught. Because if there is a God. If there is a Judge. If there is an eternal heaven and hell, than I have something to not just add to my life... But something that will make my life never be the same again.
I have knowledge that will make my life never "normal" again. I won't be able to view my job, family, dog, kids, money, purpose...anything, ever the same again. I have something to die for, and give my life too, and risk everything I have here for. In fact to count it all rubbish in view of it.

I guess I find him so fascinating because we both (him and I) see it clearly now.

Every sin I ever commit is because I believe what he believes, in that moment. In me I have a sin nature that believes that my needs are more important, and my own life is more important than others, and that I am pretty special, and that there is no God. At least not a present God.
Every sin I commit comes from a place that Charlie Sheen is sharing openly about. I may not get porn stars in my home, but I will do something else to gather around me a crowd of people or things that will speak to my egocentricity. I will find value in not dying to my desires, and instead, will let them manifest. Because dying is so much harder, and he knows that.

Every decision for God comes from a place of death to my "Charlie Sheen." From killing the part of me I was born with that tells me to find a way or a place to be a "winner." Even if it is as subtle as winning at being a loving husband, or an attentive Dad, or winning at being a good employee, or preaching a good sermon, or winning at being a good missionary...it is still the exact same Charlie Sheen heart. But those things are even deadlier because it's wrapped in something acceptable.
No one will throw an intervention party because I am working 60 hours a week, or because I am making subtle choices that please me and give me a sense of security and comfort in this life...or a sense of standing.

But I want to die. And I want to truly live.

So, I see clearly the choices before us as well, Mr. Sheen. You are right. I do look like a loser. My life has little money, my sermons have little value, my denials of self cause me hurt and pain. My home is simple, my car is old, and I don't have "goddesses" assuaging my every need.

You win.

But for me I hope Christ wins. I mean, I hope people see that He does, even as He always does.
I hope I do lose in the Charlie game of keeping score.
Because someday every knee will bow, and every tongue confess that He is Lord.
I don't think anyone will say I exposed them to the "magic of Don." Lord, I hope not. My wife would sure correct them.

My only concern is for everyone amassed in the middle. The ones who think Charlie Sheen is crazy but who have not given their lives to Christ fully. Because if there is no God, Charlie Sheen's life is the ONLY life that makes sense. Live, party, have fun, party some more...be a winner and die.

The other way is deny, deny, die, live for Christ, be a sojourner in a foreign land, live sacrificially, give up rights, give up desires, give up the elusive desire for happiness and meaning, pick up a cross, and follow Him. There is no glory here to exact for ourselves. That's why Paul said, "for me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."

Christ didn't leave us middle ground, he left us with a promise of a different party. One in heaven even now. And another one when we get there.

the arrival of the maya new year

2011-02-28T22:05:00.003-06:00

This article, from last Tuesday's edition of the Latin American Herald Tribune, highlights some beliefs and practices that the Maya Guatemalans have.

Guatemala’s Maya Indians Celebrate Start of Year 5127 GUATEMALA CITY – Maya Indians in Guatemala celebrated Tuesday the beginning of the year 5127, prophesied to be marked by a “change of authority.” “For peace, for harmony, for the unity of peoples,” the Maya priests and spiritual leaders prayed as they danced around the fire, took their places at the four cardinal points and invoked the gods to bring “the dawn of better times.” Though the festivities are celebrated at dozens of spots the Indians consider sacred, the main ceremony, in which government representatives and leaders of the chief indigenous communities take part, is held at Kaminal Juyu, west of the capital. These ceremonies mark the end of Wayeb, a five-day period during which the Mayas reflect on all that occurred during the year just ended, and define their goals and actions to be taken in the new year. The year 5127, according to the Mayan worldview, is governed by Kab’lajuj E, or 12th Road, which represents the “change of authority” in the new time, the path forward and the destiny of peoples. “What the sacred book Popol Wuj predicts and what is actually going to happen this year in Guatemala is not a simple coincidence, but rather a guide, an orientation and a hope,” Juan Axtij, one of the Indian elders taking part in the ceremony, told Efe. The old man was alluding to the general elections set for September, when Guatemalans will elect their president and vice president, 158 members of Congress and 333 mayors. Indigenous people represent 42 percent of the 14.4 million inhabitants of Guatemala. In the past two decades, Indians have recovered much of their culture after it was in danger of being exterminated by the military repression of the 1960-1996 civil war. The Mayan calendar, considered one of the most exact and sophisticated mechanisms for measuring time known to man, has a year of 365 days, but with the difference that it is divided into 18 months of 20 days each, plus the Wayeb. EFE

Please pray for this fascinating country as many people continue to hold on to ancient beliefs that place their hope in misguided prophecies and practices. Pray also for the very real election that will take place in the Fall. Years and years of corruption have left most people with very little faith that anything can change in this country. But we know a God who CAN change anything, so pray for a wise leader with true integrity to rise up and make a positive difference.

normal

2011-02-08T13:48:00.008-06:00

Sometimes I feel a little silly trying to update this blog. I mean, really. If the pastor of your church began a blog about their everyday happenings, would you read it? Dave Rod, Pastor Alan, or whomever your pastor might be are all surely interesting men, but I don't know that I would tune in to semi-regular musings about their (mostly) normal lives.

Yet, that is exactly what we attempt to do with this blog. I know, I know. Some people think there should be a more exciting and noteworthy undercurrent to our lives since we are living in a developing country. And it is true, there is very little that is normal about life in Guatemala. We have atrocious roads and even worse drivers. We lose power for days at a time with no warning. Our background noise is made up of barking wild dogs, roosters crowing at all hours of the night and day, trucks and buses honking at one another to give up space on the very narrow roads, and bombas (bombs) being set off into the empty air.But the truth is, for the past several months (maybe even more than a year), life here has felt very normal. Wow! Did I just write that? Seriously?! Yes. We have adapted well to our surroundings. We have begged, bribed, and cajoled the missionaries around us to be our friends. We have a daily routine made up of Don going to his office to do sermon preparation and writing while the kids and I work through several hours of homeschooling, housework, and playing. Even our friendships with the Guatemalans have felt more "normal" and not something that warrants being written about in a blog or a newsletter.I guess in some ways I feel guilty about that. There's nothing sensational or mind-boggling about pastoring a church of other missionaries. They speak English. They are educated. They know how to get healthcare when they need it. They have homes. They may have financial needs, but for the most part, those needs are met by their supporters back in the States. What they have needed, and what God brought us here to provide, is a place to worship, to be fed by His Word, and to gather together.
So, though it may not seem all that "missionary-ish", we opened our home on Sunday evening to provide a place to watch and celebrate the great tradition of the American Super Bowl. See what I mean? Why would I chose to write about that?
Because it reflects our hearts to give these missionaries a place to unwind, be themselves, laugh together, and rejuvenate for what will no doubt be a grueling week ahead. They will encounter and have to deal with poverty, serious health issues, spiritual lostness, pure evil and a myriad of other difficult, heart-wrenching problems. And they will do all of this while thinking, processing, and speaking in a language which, for most of them, is not their native tongue. And they will do these things because they feel a deep sense of calling to be here for the "least of these."It's an honor to shepherd them. It's a blessing to support them, pray for them, counsel them, and reach out to them in friendship. They are a huge part of the reason that our existence in this foreign land feels normal, and we thank God for each of them.

servicio de gracias

2011-01-30T20:22:00.007-06:00

Around the middle of February last year, our friend, Don Jose, went missing in the streets of Chichi, caught up in a drinking binge and headed for some serious health problems. By the time he sobered up and tried moving forward with his life, he was in such agonizing pain that he was unable to come back to work and was instead spending quite a bit of time in and out of the hospital getting pain relievers and seeking help as to what was going on. Through various consultations at hospitals here and in Guatemala City, he was advised that he would have to have a complicated surgery to rebuild a collapsed part of his urethra. In the meantime, he was relegated to wearing a urine drainage bag. This was both uncomfortable and humiliating, but was also absolutely necessary.

By May, when a urologist was scheduled to come perform surgeries as part of a visiting team, Jose's pain and problems were miraculously gone. The catheter had been removed, he was no longer in pain, and he was back to work. He got checked out anyways, just to have an opinion from a medical expert, but even the surgeon was unable to explain how his recovery had happened.

But Jose knew. He knew that it was by God's hand, the Doctor of all doctors, that his body was healed. And those of us who knew the pain he was in and the imminent need for surgery got to witness this miracle in his life.

Today, our family had the privilege of attending a church service to give thanks for what God has done in Jose's life and in the life of his family through the healing he experienced. With tears streaming down his face, Jose stood in front of his church family, almost unable to express his gratitude for the families that prayed for him, cared for him, and supported his family during his drinking binge and in the months that followed when he had those health issues going on.

What's more, his son, Israel, stood up front with him and shared how his dad's journey had renewed his own faith in the Lord. His wife shared how different friends and family have been praying for them for a long, long time. Nicolasa and her children have been faithfully attending the church for quite some time, but Israel was never with them. Something powerful happened over the past year, though, as he watched this miracle unfold. Not just the miracle of a healing, but of a church body functioning as a church body should and of a dad facing his failures, accepting God's grace, and getting back on the right track.

It was good to be part of the Body tonight, to be among our Guatemalan brothers and sisters, as we attested to the good things God has done in the lives of the Ignacio family. It was also good to be reminded that through some of our most difficult times, our moments of great failure, He is perfectly able to use our broken lives to draw others closer to Himself.

visit from friends

2011-01-25T22:09:00.002-06:00

We hosted are friends from the city this past week. They are missionaries serving at a school in Guatemala City. Our home has been a place of retreat for them, and their visits are always a source of encouragement to us...and our children.

Some wonder what kids do without electronic gadgets, Wii games, American TV and movies.
Well this video is your answer. The kids pulled the adults outside for this performance...including hand-written programs. They called it their circus.

Sometimes serving in a foreign country can be difficult and isolating. But this was a happy, happy day. Hope you enjoy!

blessed to be a blessing

2011-01-06T21:19:00.003-06:00

I never dreamed as a child of growing up and surviving through the goodness of others to help me along the way. I never thought I would ask people for money.
But it is the most common road to travel for a missionary family. And so we have grown in our understanding of humility, reliance, community and our faith that God will provide. The asking has never been easy or comfortable for us, but that has more to do with our pride and the paradigm of American individualism under which we were raised.

Most of the time our experience has been that God has provided for us through others without needing to ask or share our financial concerns in the field. It still amazes us the way this happens, and through whom we receive support. The only possible answer is that God has placed us upon the heart of someone at the right time, and in the right season. We have hundreds of stories we could share about the way people have given to us in just the right time, and for just the right amount.

But the way we were blessed this Christmas season has blown us away. I promised to share with this blog's audience how God would come through after we shared our financial needs in December. So here goes:

We were given the largest gift we have ever received by our home church that allowed us to pay off our $1,800 car repair bill, our current car repair bill, and pay for a computer for Heather. We also received gifts from several others that gave us the opportunity to pay for the trip to Pennsylvania for Christmas, as well as the repair on my own laptop, which cost almost $250.

This year, when we looked at December we knew that we would have lived off much less financial support than we were blessed to receive in 2009. And with the declining power of the dollar in Guatemala (and around the world), and the unsteady economy in the States (our support base), and the addition of another Logan (Baby Olivia), and all the extra costs related to a larger family, things just did not look very good for 2010.

But with all the extra gifts we received in December we almost equaled our 2009 total. And because we had already been tightening our belts, the extra money went a long way.
We will be paying off a pesky travel credit card this month, and were able to set up a payment plan to repay a relative who helped us through a difficult time a few years ago.
We were even able to send a sizable support check ourselves to a great missionary family toiling away undercover in York County PA.

So we are okay. We will continue to be okay. Because God is good no matter what, and because He has decided that we are to continue to do what we are doing through your support.

Happy New Year!

playdates

2010-12-11T13:57:00.003-06:00

This past week, Ali and Aidan got to enjoy having friends in our home with them every morning. Not only did it allow them to change up their school schedule, but it gave them ample time to play each day. Some of the time the girls played together while the boys wandered off somewhere else. At other times, all four kids played together. We did some Christmas crafts and painting, and we also taught the other two kids how to play Candyland. It was a great week for the twins to use their Spanish again and to have some peer interaction. And, it helped the days go by even faster as they continue to anticipate the arrival of Christmas. We're still playing catch-up on some of our school tasks, but having friends around all week far outweighed having to spend a few hours doing a bit of work on Saturday. We're thankful that we had this time to get to know our friends even better and to share some of our favorite toys and activities with them!

althea's piano recital

2010-12-08T20:49:00.002-06:00

Ali wanted to share her favorite piece on the piano. We were more than willing to accommodate her request. Our home is usually filled with their musical musings. They love music. We just wanted to bring you in for a minute!

december concerns

2010-12-07T18:08:00.005-06:00

This is shaping up to be a hard month for us financially. Our support this year has lagged a bit from last year. We consider ourselves taken care of as God has continued to provide however, and considering the rise in unemployment and the state of the economy, count ourselves to be very blessed.

But the holiday season has presented us with some unwelcome surprises. We dropped off our Toyota in the city expecting a quick fix and a small problem...(The radiator was needing re-filled constantly without noticeable leaking), and the reality is much worse. We are still not sure what the final cost will be, but considering that each head that was replaced cost 2,400Q ($300) each, we are expecting a bill in the thousands!

On top of that our desk computer finally refused to start. We had been nursing it for the last few months, and it finally broke down. Luckily we were able to pull off most of the major programs and documents we had stored on the hard-drive.

And then I dropped Heather's laptop and destroyed it as well. Her little 12" computer was a Christmas gift last year because we needed a travel computer for the family.

And now we are left with mine....and, oh yeah, it's barely responding even as I type this blog. Mine is the computer for all the programs I use for Bible study, and projecting messages and worship during church, downloading sermon files, etc.
In other words, it's our workhorse. We are looking at losing all 3 computers in the span of 3 months!

It's one thing to be without the stimulation of media and the array of choices we encounter in the States... U.S. TV programming, movie theaters, restaurants, malls, etc. It's another to steel ourselves for a time here without a computer. I feel like a cowboy losing his horse from underneath him. (Can you tell I just finished watching Lonesome Dove?)

But I mention these things for 2 reasons:

A family member reminded us that we should share our financial concerns more so that people could respond. I actually think she is tired of answering for us when some ask what they can do for us. I think she makes a good point, and even though we have it better than most, and believe God will provide, I guess it never hurts when there are some looking to be a financial blessing to others this time of year.
When God does provide we can all be blessed by us communicating the way that He did that on this blog as well. We may not receive any money, but I am sure that He will bless us in ways that will be tangible and encouraging to anyone who reads our blog. He is always good. And we are anxious to see what He will be doing as He continues to sanctify us in the process.

I have a feeling that this will be the best Christmas we have ever had, as we are even now reminded of the poor family that could not even bring a goat or sheep to the priest to bless a baby boy. Instead they brought a few birds. And that boy changed the world. That's the Christmas we look forward to remembering this year. May God bless you all this Christmas season!

fancy friday

2010-12-03T18:43:00.004-06:00

Looks like we're dressed up for something special, doesn't it? Well, we were. But not the kind of special event you might expect. This family outing led us to our very own dinner table in our very own house.
Earlier in the week, Ali began dreaming up this fancy dinner we would have where we would all wear our finest clothing and share a meal of her design. And so, Don, being the spectacular father that he is, indulged her little girlhood fantasy and set her plan into motion. Ali became the event planner for the evening, helping to create the menu, prepare the dishes, choose our clothing, and pick the flowers to adorn the table.

Even Aidan played along with the evening. He made up paper chains to decorate each chair and used Scrabble chips to make namecards. Since he is generally not one to like wearing dressy church clothes, I thought for sure he would put up at least a little bit of a fight to have to wear this clothing for a dinner meant only for our family, but he willingly and anxiously made himself into quite the gentleman.

When all was said and done, we had a delightful meal of scrambled eggs, potato casserole, homemade bread, and ice cream. I know. It doesn't sound like the typical "fancy" meal one might expect, but everything about this evening was absolutely perfect. In a place where we seldom have the opportunity to pamper ourselves, this was an unforgettable way to make special memories with no extra resources needed.

We know life isn't really a fairytale. But for tonight, we feel like we captured just a smidgen of magic and made our little girl's dreams come true.

scary demonic activity?

2010-10-31T23:20:00.003-06:00

It's a difficult time spiritually right now. The country has been getting more violent, we have had more Embassy warnings about traveling, and last week some people we know were present at a drive-by fatal shooting. Now we are suffering through the Day of the Dead holiday season.

So, we thought that a quick trip to the big city to grab groceries and spend the night with Christian friends would provide some needed comfort.

It didn't turn out that way.

We both had trouble sleeping because the house and room just didn't feel right. We also were both struggling with asthma. And then after finally slipping into sleep, we were awakened when a crying baby pierced the darkness. Our Olivia was screaming in her bedroom!
Heather rushed into the room and actually hit her with the door. What was she doing in the middle of the floor, by the door!? Why was she not in her Pack 'n Play? We both struggled mentally with this new information at 2 in the morning.

She is only 14 months old and way too little to propel herself out of a crib. Even if she were strong enough to do it (which she is not), she certainly would have toppled the little crib as well. But the crib in fact remained untouched where it had been before. We checked the bottom of the crib and didn't find a hole.

There was only one real explanation: demonic activity.

I must share a side-note here that I had never witnessed demonic activity until I came to Guatemala. In retrospect, it is a surprise even to me that I jumped so quickly and easily to that conclusion.

I decided to stay in the room and pray over her little body, the crib, the home, and all it's inhabitants. It was quite the sleepless night.

To make things even scarier, during my time praying I could hear the audible babbling of Olivia and it sounded less than cute and "babyish." I was afraid to even look at her at one point. An older child from across the hall was also awakened by a bad dream as I was praying, and cried out for relief. In the middle of one of my more intense moments, the window curtains fell down on me. And I was left to drown in my own questions:

Why would Satan levitate my baby out of her crib? And who does he think he is anyway?!?!

Well, a new day gave way to a new meaning for over-reaching spiritually. As the sun streamed through the window, we finally found the rational reason for my spiritual dismay and terrible night of rest: I will share the picture of the crib below...

Heather, noticing my night of sleepless warfare, wisely chose not to laugh at my expense. Now, we both laugh at the terrible demonic night that never was.

aidan's piano composition

2010-10-31T23:12:00.003-06:00

Aidan and Althea spend a lot of time practicing the piano. They both seem to enjoy it, and both have progressed a lot in the past year. Aidan likes to play at the piano as well. (He can play the song "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" starting at any note on the piano, because it's his favorite song) Yesterday I arrived home and he wanted me to listen to a song he "made up" himself. It's pretty cute, and I told him I would post it for the grandparents to enjoy:

olivia can walk!!!

2010-10-01T15:45:00.001-06:00

driving during landslide season

2010-09-27T14:23:00.002-06:00

I thought I would take you for a road-trip with me. This was 2 weeks ago when I drove to Guatemala City to be reunited with my family. It's a bit boring, but will give you a great idea how it feels to drive in Guatemala.

update

2010-09-06T16:49:00.004-06:00

It's raining again. I thought we might have a day without it, but now it is coming down very heavy. There are many statistics being thrown around. Some say hundreds killed and 1000's displaced. Some say it's much higher.

It's hard to get a hard number because we are talking about Mayan families, who are never really counted in any other way.
Please continue to pray for the people who have lost loved ones.

I will post some pictures to just give you an idea of the damage. I'm keeping the most difficult ones to myself. In one picture you will even see the road I must travel in a few days to get to my family.
Pray for no more rain.
Thanks everyone.

disaster in guatemala

2010-09-05T17:14:00.003-06:00

I arrived in Guatemala this past Monday, August 30. I was surprised and disheartened by the conditions of the road as I made my way back to Chichicastenango. The situation on the road was even worse than after Tropical Storm Agatha.

I found out after talking to missionaries that they have suffered through 8 such storms in the time I had been in the US. None of them huge storms, but consistent rain for about a month.
We have had rain every day now in the week that I have been here. Everyday all day, rain, rain, rain. It's raining hard right now. Rain, rain, rain.

Yesterday the roads were impassable again. In fact a section of highway that we pass every couple of weeks, where the cliff is high, came down on top of a "chicken bus" and 2 pick-ups. We always pass that section (and others) and wonder what it would be like if the cliff came down.
Well, it did, and killed 12 people in a trapped bus. (The picture above)
The local Mayans tried desperately to dig them out when another slide came and killed 8 of the rescue workers. You can read about this here on MSNBC.

I can't imagine.

Yesterday a hill came down and killed 70 people or so in Xela, a large city to the north of our location. Again, I can't imagine the suffering of families who lose little children and parents in this manner.

I know that you can't do anything. And in my own selfishness I am also worried that I won't be able to get my family from Guatemala City this Thursday when they arrive. I'm worried that we will be separated. Not to mention keeping my eyes on all the trees that surround my home here.

And still reeling at the pain these people here suffer on a monthly basis.
just lift us all up in a prayer over the next week if you would.

karate kids

2010-07-16T22:06:00.003-06:00

I was missing the twins today, and I came across these photos of them from their belt-changing ceremony in Karate that took place on Father's Day. (I'm certain there is a much more official title for this very special ceremony. I just don't happen to know what that title is.)

We were so proud of Ali and Aidan. Not just because they demonstrated that they learned all the skills they needed in order to progress to the next level, but also because this is the first structured, on-going activity in which they've participated. It's not a sport I would have imagined them being in a few years ago, but because it's offered here in Chichi, and because I was anxious for them to have opportunities to socialize and do fun things with their Guatemalan peers, we gladly enrolled them when they showed an interest.

Their motivation has waned at times. But at other times they come excited to show us the various numbered positions they've mastered. So, on this particular day, we got to witness them following the directions of their Sensei. At the end of their demonstration, they each received their new belts. It was a very formal, ritualized routine in which someone more experienced than them tied on their new belt as the twins sat on their knees. Then that same person helped them rise to their feet , and as they stood, an entire line of helpers and teachers came through, re-secured their belts, and gave them a hug or a high-five.

I know I'm a little sentimental, but it was almost like watching a rite-of-passage, and my heart was warmed that they were finding this place of belonging. Even though the program lasted 3 1/2 hours, and even though Ali was coming down with the flu at that very moment, and even though it was in a closed-off, smelly, municipal building, I was sharing in their joy and sense of accomplishment.

So, when I can't physically give them a hug today, here's my tribute to give them some recognition and remind the world again that I am so very blessed to be their mom.

children's ministry

2010-07-14T14:04:00.003-06:00

These are some photos from a children's ministry program that was provided by a team from Eastminster Presbyterian last week. As part of their time here, they taught the children in the Christian schools how to tell the Good News to their friends and family. Their program consisted of singing worship songs and showing students how they can use "tools" like the wordless Gospel or simple colored bracelets to explain the salvation story. Because it is more likely for people to listen to and respect this message of hope from their own people group than from outsiders like us, it is crucial to help the next generation of Believers understand their own roles as the voices, hands and feet of Christ.

walking the cows

2010-07-06T14:36:00.003-06:00

That's right. What you see here is a shepherd boy taking his cows for walk. It's pretty typical to see cows, sheep, and goats tied up to the side of the road stationed at whatever tiny patches of grass their caretakers can find. On this day, though, we were taking a detour through a nearby town, and the traffic had to wait as this young man walked his cows (oh, and a German Shepherd) up the street. As we find ourselves saying often, "Only in Guatemala!"

don jose

2010-07-05T20:06:00.003-06:00

Sometimes in the busyness of our lives, we forget to acknowledge God's great provision and to stand in awe at the good things He does. Sadly, that has been true of us in the case of our friend, Jose. Beginning in February, we shared of his struggle with alcohol and of the medical consequences to which his binge drinking led. If you weren't keeping up with us at that point, you can read more about the beginnings of our prayers for him as we learned more about his whereabouts and his condition.

In May, Jose was scheduled to see a visiting urologist which was to lead to him having surgery to fix whatever was wrong. Praise God, though, that when he went to see the surgeon and had the x-rays and exams, they couldn't find anything wrong! The bag was removed and Jose was given a clean bill of health. We knew he was scared of surgery and of the burden it would cause his family for him to incur such large expenses and to again be out of work. Joy and life returned to his eyes and he experienced God's love and care for him in a very tangible way.

Thanks to all of you who offered prayers on his behalf.

(posted by Heather)

guinea pig

2010-07-02T13:39:00.002-06:00

ASELSI is a ministry on the other side of our town that has two distinct purposes: 1) to offer pastoral training beyond the high school level for local pastors and 2) to provide medical services such as a milk program similar to WIC, to hold clinic hours to people with on-going health issues, and to assist children with severe disabilities and developmental delays through physical therapy.

This morning, Olivia was the "guinea pig" for the trainees of the physical therapy program. The students observed things like her rotation, flexing and releasing of muscles, and other movements that she made as she was crawling and playing. Besides the fact that she's pretty darn cute, she's also a really good mover! So, the people in the class enjoyed watching her use both her fine and gross motor skills, and I enjoyed having a new place to take her to play...albeit with an audience. Besides being the closest thing I'm going to experience to a Mommy and Me time, it was also a blessing to support the missionaries serving there.

Heather

only in guatemala

2010-06-29T16:27:00.001-06:00

Tropical Storms

2010-06-28T13:37:00.003-06:00

I used to like rain. Really. When I was a boy, I would sit out on my family's screened-in porch and watch them roll in with the lightning and thunder that never scared me.

This country is beginning to turn me into a rain pessimist. Forgive me for complaining, but when it rains here, it rains for days. And the house becomes increasingly more stressful because the rain highlights one of the weaknesses of a third-world country, namely, there is nowhere to go to break up the monotony of the home. It is only exaggerated if one has young children. And we have 2 AND a baby...
Our kids live outside. They usually only come inside for food, skinned knees and the occasional tattle, but that's about it. And we like it that way as parents. So when it rains...a lot, we quickly and depressingly exhaust our resources trying to keep our sanity. We cook together and clean together, and play games together...but pretty soon we start to look at each other with the same wild eyes the members of the Donner Party must have had.

I never thought I would live in the place where all the Tropical Storms begin that people in The States worry will become full-blown tornadoes. All the arrows seem to begin around our home here in Guatemala. Many of you are concerned about where they are tracking, while we live in the insanity of birthing these crazy things.

We just received an email from the United States that has warned it's citizens living abroad in Guatemala that this season for hurricanes and tropical storms looks like a bad one. They wanted to remind us that we should be prepared for closed roads, lack of resources, mudslides, falling trees, boredom and eating one another alive. Well, maybe I added that last part.

I would feel better if some of you would fly down here and play some board games with us...maybe stay up late and watch a few movies. If the electricity stays on long enough, that is...which it won't.

I'm sorry if I sound a bit sarcastic, I'll feel better later...when it stops raining.

science education

2010-06-07T17:22:00.005-06:00

Every time I go in a classroom, I am reminded how much I love the world of education. I love the art of teaching. I enjoy reading research and new ideas on how kids learn. And when I stand in front of a group of students and they finally "get it", I think I experience even more joy than they do. So, when I have an opportunity to help other teachers find this spark for teaching, that makes me just as excited.

This past week, I had the pleasure of working alongside three women (1 college professor, 1 director of an early learning center, and 1 third grade teacher) who brought some sparks to the teachers in our Guatemalan schools and to the children. They focused on presenting how to teach the process of investigation in science. On Monday afternoon, the teachers were asked to learn facts about an apple through investigation...first from a real apple, then from a model apple, then from a picture of an apple, and finally from the word "apple". It was extremely effective in helping them understand why hands-on learning is so important for the students. They saw that when they were allowed to ask questions and explore this object in front of them, they could come up with great lists of things they learned and then fully understood. On the other hand, when all they had was the word (as we too often experience with textbook learning), the only things they could describe were the letters used to make up the word.

The next day, the teachers observed as we demonstrated investigative lessons with their students. Primary-aged students experimented with different types of balls while learning to ask and answer questions about the distance the balls might bounce and how we can make a ball move (or move faster) using everyday objects to make ramps. The older-aged elementary students discovered some properties of water, not because they were given vocabulary and then read about it in a book, but because we posed some questions to them and then allowed them to experiment with water to see what would happen. For many of these children, it was the first time they had done an experiment, used a pipette, been given questions and asked to find the answers instead of being given the answers inside of a lecture. It was chaotic, but so well worth it!

The photos from above are of our time with the students. Thank you to Kathy, Bev, and Patty who made it all happen.

update on the impact of agatha

2010-06-01T20:23:00.003-06:00

This evening I (Heather) had the opportunity to get together with many of the other missionary women in our community. Through our time with one another, I got a better picture of the extent of damage caused by Agatha. For those of you who have been trying to keep updated and are wanting to know more about what is going on, here's the news from our tiny little corner of the world.

At least 30 people in or close to Chichi lost their lives as a result of mudslides. Many people are still missing, some that we don't even know are unaccounted for because of the lack of communication with and access to rural villages. The shoddily built water infastructure remains vulnerable to collapsing in innumerable places. Some pipes (I use that word loosely. "Pipes" here are equivalent to 3" PVC tubes.) were torn apart by moving land and/or water and other pipes were buried under feet of mud. These disconnected sections make it impossible for water to pass which leaves whole sections of the town without water. In addition, many more structures remain in a precarious situation as land underneath and around them has washed away. Entire sections of homes are hanging off of edges, and the next hard rain could be all it takes to wash away what little foundation they have left.

So, here's how you can be praying. Pray for the comfort and healing of those who lost loved ones or were injured in the storms. Pray for the local Guatemalan church to be encouraged and rejuvenated in their efforts to help one another. Pray for the missionaries to know when and where to help without disempowering the local community. Pray for the wisdom and integrity of the people in charge of the clean-up, repair, and rebuilding.

a few photos

2010-06-01T10:18:00.002-06:00

agatha and pacaya

2010-05-30T21:59:00.002-06:00

Guatemala has been through a lot the last few days. First Volcano Pacaya blew leaving layers of ash and debris in the city, and then Tropical Storm Agatha followed quickly on it's heels.
The official toll of death was up near 100, but that number will keep growing. Someone told me today that 100 people or more have died in Chichi. One missionary shared with me that a mother and baby died last night in a mudslide, and they had just ministered to her with a team this week. The stories will keep coming in, and we'll keep you updated.

We had church today, believe it or not. I was reminded again of the beautiful and rugged spirit of these missionaries who would drive over barely passable mountain roads to be in a church building without electricity. Community and the truth of scripture mean so much more when the comforts of life are not available...and when people are hurting.

We are fine, but we can't say that for others. Pray for the Guatemalan people. The airports and major roads are closed and we have a team planning to make their way to us this weekend. We are praying that everything works in their favor...

A few pictures...

wild weather (and other abnormal events)

2010-05-29T13:47:00.002-06:00

This week, Guatemala City experienced a small earthquake and a volcanic eruption that spewed ash 100 miles into the air and coated the city with 3 inches of debris. As if that isn't enough, the entire country is now being drenched with rain from Tropical Storm Agatha. Nearby mountains and towns are in a scary spot of instability because of mudslides and flooding. To read more about the events that are affecting Guatemala, click here or here. We've already had heavy rains for the past four days, and this storm doesn't look like it's in too much of a hurry to move on.

Though we feel quite safe in our home, and our kitchen is well-stocked should we be housebound for awhile, we continue to watch as the water in our yard rises. And in the past hour, we've listened to the trees and land around us shift and fall. If we feel this sense of uncertainty, then we realize that other people are in even riskier situations. Please pray for our neighbors, especially in the outlying villages who may not be able to get to medical help because of closed roads...and whose houses are often built quite precariously onto the sides of hills and mountains...and who probably don't have cupboards full of food to get them through several days. Pray that the damage would be minimal, and that help will be there for the people who find themselves needing it. And pray for all our hearts and minds to be at peace knowing that the One who brings the rain is always in control.

a day in the life of guatemalans, by a guatemalan

2010-05-25T15:06:00.003-06:00

So Jose Robles was sent downtown for a day with a camera and a mission:
Capture Guatemala through the eyes of a Guatemalan.

The results were amazing and I am still processing. He was able to capture a depth of suffering I have only seen in passing. He documented a pure joy that I have rarely seen. And he chronicled a working and moving faith in a people here that brings peace to my heart.

Please spend the length of a song looking at these photos. You have seen these people before. You know them somehow. And by looking, you will also see the artist behind the lens... Our yard worker, Jose Robles. Former orphan. Now child of God.

ali and theology

2010-05-20T13:36:00.005-06:00

Just want everyone to know that a huge part of my theology...actually our theology as a family, is built inside the acknowledgment that we begin as enemies of God. That we have sinned and destroyed His paradise. That we have taken up arms against Him. That the relationship is built on the firm and ugly foundation of our own depravity.

This is foundational (in our opinion) of coming into a relationship with Him later. We have nothing to offer Him and no way to pay it back. He simply decides to pay the ultimate price...(not for good people who are trying their best)...but for enemies who want to replace Him and throw Him off the throne. This is what makes His sacrifice so amazing. And so chancy.

I have issues with a Gospel presented to kids as accepting Jesus as a "forever friend" whom walks and talks with us and will always be a phone call away. Not because it's so false and heretical. But because it's so early. Because it presents a Gospel that is platformed on the benefits of relationship.

We believe it begins with gratitude. That He calls us on His team when we deserve only death for being active participants on the other team. That gratitude moves to grateful obedience in listening to His voice and desiring to obey Him. And then later...much later, (and maybe never) we are granted with the felt presence of having the Dear Friend (Counselor) walk and talk with us.
Why do I say "maybe never"? Because even though we are all granted the Holy Spirit upon salvation, some may never have physical or emotional manifestations of God. The feelings of God being present will wax and wane through our time on earth. But it will never change our position in Him, or our love for Him because we should have already (in our opinion) built the relationship on gratitude. And. That. Won't. Change.

I explain all this so you understand why we are so proud that this drawing came from our daughter Althea. We haven't talked to her about theology. She has never asked us about what a step 1 or step 2 looks like. But I like where she is in this. I love her heart.

Now I am hopeful in helping to guide her to a Father who loves her so much even though she is guilty of those nails in His hands and feet. He seems to be drawing her right now. And it's awesome for her earthly father to witness.
Her words: "Jesus, I love you. I am sorry of what I've done."

good family, good friends, great visits

2010-04-27T15:49:00.007-06:00

Our home has been a revolving door to some fantastic visitors over the past two months. It began in March with Don's parents coming to see us. We had such a good time introducing Olivia to them and watching as Ali and Aidan renewed their affection for their grandparents. Cindy and Don were able to participate in some ministry opportunities with other organizations around Chichi, and we made sure to take them to some of the tourist highlights of the country (Antigua, Lake Atitlan, and the market here in town). They mentioned numerous times what a blessing it was to be here, but, honestly, we felt as though the blessing was all ours.

A few weeks after they left, my own parents returned to be with us once again. We so appreciate their friendship with us and the chance that their visits give us to process what God is doing in our lives and in our family face-to-face with them. Ali and Aidan take complete advantage of them by begging them to play games and give them every bit of their attention, but isn't that what grandparents are for?

On the day my parents left, we picked up Alan and Sharon (our pastor from Carlisle BIC and his wife). They had been taking intensive Spanish courses for the past week which involved a homestay with a Guatemalan family. No English allowed. They seemed absolutely delighted to return to conversation in English and food prepared in recognizable ways. (At least we hope they thought our meals were recognizable.) Though their visit was very short, it was enriching to us to be able to talk about what it's like for both of our families to be pastoral families, to chat about ministry and congregations and visions for Christ's body. It was a good thing to be able to have them experience what we do, to meet the people we are here to love, and to have their company in our home for a few days.

Things have quieted down now. But it feels a little too quiet. We'll be glad for the next time that we need to open our door once again.

easter in guatemala

2010-04-05T12:16:00.003-06:00

We had a very hard and busy week. We actually had two funerals this week. Little Esther passed away on Monday, and Victor (a father and husband of friends of ours) died on Tuesday night. In Guatemala they don't really embalm, so the funerals and burials are usually the same day, or day after.

As much as our hearts have been broken this week, there was also a renewed sense of hope and peace radiating through the community. As I called to talk to Sherwood (the father of Esther), he said, "We are doing okay. God is with us. He gives and takes away. And we give Him all the glory." I asked him..."Is there anything else you need?" He said, "No, we are being taken care of. The church is doing what it's supposed to do." How encouraging!

We had a wonderful and emotional Easter service yesterday with groups from Michigan, Indiana, Wyoming, Lebanon, and even Australia. What an amazing celebration we had! I wish I had a way to videotape the entire service, but at least I was able to record the sermon.

The link is below for the last two sermons:

Triumphal Entry: The world's saddest and weirdest parade
Easter Sunday: Is it true? And if so...so what?

funeral for esther: an Easter message

2010-04-02T09:33:00.011-06:00

We are gathered here today to commend Esther Nina Pope Martinez into God's care, and we ask Him to help us all through this difficult time, and to be especially present in the lives of Esther's parents, Daniel and Areli.

In a time like this words seem pretty useless, and the questions abound. A baby's death does that to us. We want our babies to grow up, and to have a future...to realize their dreams. James 4:14 says, "You do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away."

Esther appeared at 6:13am on March 29, and like a vapor, vanished about 2 1/2 hours later at 8:49 am.

Esther didn't accomplish much in her time on this earth. She never married. Never laughed. Never drew a picture. Never cashed a paycheck. She came into this world premature, and struggled just to stay alive. She was anxious to come here and anxious to go home...to the home we will all go someday, where all imperfections are made perfect, all mysteries explained, all sorrows turned to pure happiness.

No, we will not answer any questions today. Some questions may never be answered. Today, we come to mourn the loss of a precious baby girl, yet, we do not mourn as those who have no hope.

King David and his wife had a baby boy who became desperately sick. David felt helpless and afraid. He prayed to God to spare his son. He fasted and did not eat. He was unwilling to even bathe or sleep in his bed. For 7 days this continued. And then his son died.
When King David heard the news, he got up and washed himself. He dressed in fresh clothes. He went to the House of the Lord and worshiped God. He then came home and asked for food, and ate. His behavior confused his servants and friends. Why did he mourn before his baby died? Why did he act normal...even celebrate, after his baby boy died? So they asked David to explain. He said: "Why should I fast now that he is dead? Can I bring him back again? No, I will go to him, but he will not return to me."

David and his wife knew that their child would never come back to them on earth, but one day, they believed, they would all be reunited. They would hold their boy again someday.
I think David commended his son into God's care that day of worship, and then they joyfully looked to the day they would all be together again.

We may not feel like celebrating today...but make no mistake, we do not mourn as those who have no hope. I think there can be peace and joy even in these moments because these moments are not eternal. Death does not need to be a closed casket. Death can be an entrance through a door into a new life. A life that never ends, where there is no pain, no tears, no suffering. Where there is no too early, or too late.

The Bible says that to be absent from the body means to be present with the Lord. So where is Esther?
Well, Esther may have seemed like a small bundle of perfection in her 2 hours on earth, but she was not. Born through sinful parents, into a sinful world, with an imperfect body...Esther needed a Savior as well. Her only hope was in a God who could bridge the gap for her. A God who could conquer death and take us with Him. The medicine of God provided for Esther even as the medicine of man failed her.

We mourn today, but we do not mourn as those who have no hope.
You cannot bring Esther back to you again. But someday, you will see her again.
Daniel and Areli, do not let anyone comfort you because you lost your daughter. You remember that something is not lost if you know where it is.

Esther is dead, but she is not lost.

Today we don't say "goodbye." Today we say, "I'll see you later."

a great loss

2010-03-29T20:45:00.002-06:00

I don't want you to think that what I'm about to write is about me. I know that it's not. But I don't know how to convey what has happened today except through my own emotions and processing. So let me just share what's going on.

Our friends, Sherwood and Areli, lost their baby girl after only a few short hours of life. Areli was just 27 weeks pregnant when she woke up this morning in a pool of blood. She knew something was dangerously wrong, and they had to make the quick decision about where to try to get medical help. Our local hospital has no anesthesiologist. The hospitals most able to deal with severely premature babies are in the capital, but with Areli already bleeding so badly, they weren't certain they could make it that far. So they chose to go to the national hospital in the town 30 minutes away.

The baby was delivered and immediately "bagged" to get her breathing, and that worked for about 2 1/2 hours. But as they were trying to decide whether they could fly Areli and Esther to Guatemala City, Esther just couldn't hold on anymore. She passed away in Sherwood's arms.

I don't know what to do with my understanding of God in moments like this. I know he is good and loving and caring and just, but nothing about an event like this feels like it's true to his character. I feel shocked, deeply saddened, confused, and even a little angry. I've also had moments of guilt while holding my own little baby girl and thinking of my friend who has just lost her daughter. This isn't the way it's supposed to be.

So, I'm asking you to pray for them...and for the rest of us as we muddle our way through trying to surround them with love and support. As hard as today was and tomorrow will be, we know that their moments of grief will diminish and reappear many, many times over the next months. They will be thinking of their dear Esther as her planned due date approaches. When the holidays come and go, they will wonder how different life would have been if they had their baby with them. They will relive their moments of joyful anticipation when they hoped and talked and dreamed about the days ahead for their baby. It will not be easy. But I believe that our God who is alive and present will be their Comforter, and I hope you will pray that for them, too.

feeding the hungry

2010-03-28T15:35:00.004-06:00

My parents are here from Georgia. It has been such a rich experience for them to see the ministry here firsthand, to meet many other missionaries, and to get their "feet wet" in some outreach cross-culturally. On Wednesday we worked with ASELSI and cooked up some hamburgers that would feed 60 people. We had a group go downtown and find the poorest of the poor: shoe-shine boys and "mules" (guys who make a living carrying stuff for people), and a few women and children.

It was an enriching experience to see how the poor here compare to the "poor" in the States. But more than anything else, it was just good to have a day when one can simply do what Christ asks us to do...feed the poor.

sunday sermon link

2010-03-22T09:01:00.002-06:00

This Sunday we talked about a difficult topic: forgiveness.
What is it? What does it mean? Are we really asked to forgive others, no matter what, no matter how many times, no matter how badly we have been hurt?
Is the forgiveness of others essential for our own salvation?

Listen and tell me what you think.
And remember, you can subscribe to our podcast through iTunes by searching for Missionary Community Church.

The link: Forgiveness: It's not really optional

more news about Jose

2010-03-17T09:38:00.002-06:00

Jose came to visit us on Saturday afternoon. Through broken conversation and tears, he showed us that he has a bag connected to him to remove urine from his body. He cannot go to the bathroom in the normal way, and he is both in pain and a bit embarrassed. He shared with us that he needs to have an operation done, but neither the surgeon here in Chichicastenango nor the one in Quiche (a town about 30 minutes away) has ever performed this specific type of surgery. The one in Quiche would "try" to do it (scary, thought, huh...to be the one for a doctor to essentially use as an experiment for surgery). Jose's daughters wisely and strongly opposed this option and asked what could be done instead.

The next best option? Guatemala City. But they don't have a car and have probably only been to the capital twice in their lives. This is an overwhelming journey that could have required Jose to pay over 1,000 quetzales to be taken by ambulance to the city...or that Don could help him with for only the price of gas and a day of "lost" time to work on his next sermon. Funny thing how "lost" time to us is never "lost" to God. He has a purpose for every interruption and every unexpected opportunity to serve Him by loving His people.

So, Don, Jose, Jose's son, and Jose's uncle dragged their tired bodies out of bed at 2:30 this morning to make the trek to the city in order to get Jose there before 6am. They arrived just before hundreds of other people started lining up for in-take as well. And now it's a day of waiting. And then that could turn into months of waiting before they can actually schedule him for surgery. The surgeon here in Chichi advised us that even if he got into the system at this other hospital, it could be November before he actually gets a surgery date. And in the meantime, Jose continues to be in pain and to not be able to help his family earn a living.

And to complicate matters, his daughter, Loida, who is also a good friend of ours, has been teaching since mid-January...and has yet to be paid. Apparently the government decided to use money from the Ministry of Education to pay a sort of welfare benefit to other people, and now they have no money to pay their teachers. We're doing what we can, with your support, to help meet the needs of this family while both the father and the daughter have essentially lost their incomes. But they could still use your prayers.

Pray that surgery for Jose would happen much sooner than November. Pray that his family would experience the comfort and peace of Jesus as they struggle with a husband and father who is quite ill and the financial stress of having lost two incomes. Pray that we would be wise and generous in knowing how to help them.

sunday sermon link

2010-03-15T10:24:00.003-06:00

We do have some news to share this week about Jose. He is not drinking anymore, but he's also not doing very well. We are doing what we can to support his family in this difficult time. We also have some visitors headed our way at the end of this week, and we are excited about that!

Here is the sermon link... Crumbs of Grace.
We also have a podcast in iTunes. You can search for us by our name, Missionary Community Church.
I'm off to work, and will update later.

How Jesus helps us...How we can help others

2010-03-09T10:31:00.002-06:00

One of the things that wears on any missionary is the constant bombardment of suffering. All around, in the midst of such beautiful physical surroundings, the lives tell a different story.
On a daily basis we, along with many others, witness hunger, malnourishment, the consequences of a lack of proper hygiene and simple medical services. We see the effects of illiteracy and poor education. We see governments take advantage of the surrounding confusion to line their own pockets with misappropriated funds. Promises are made, and seldom kept. Earthquakes and mudslides destroy what little many people have. Babies die when curable and corrective procedures could have been administered.

It's one thing to watch a 30 second commercial on the plight of some people across the globe. It's quite another to plop your family right down in the center of it, and build a life in the midst of it.

Just in the last few months we have known extreme hardship to touch the lives of people close to us. Diego, the local construction specialist who works for us and many others lost his young son when he hung himself with a rope. It's still unclear what happened, but it was either an accident, or someone murdered him. I cannot imagine going to work one day with a 9 year old son at home, and then coming back to a home that doesn't include him. And yet I see him everyday, a living reminder of how harsh this place can be.

Another woman just recently lost her husband as he was in a car accident traveling to find work in the States. She was left with a 6, a 4, and a 2 year old to raise alone. She went to work last Saturday and left the kids at home (what else could she do), and a relative came in and raped the little 4 year-old girl in horrific ways.

These aren't crazy exceptions. This is life here. And I, along with many others who have traveled before, and will come after, have been "called" to come here.
But to do what exactly? Why are we here? There isn't enough money in the world to throw at these problems.

This last Sunday in church we talked about our calling as missionaries.
I'm including a link to that sermon.
Please listen to what we talked about, and tell me what you think.

As so many people still have their eyes on Haiti, it's important to ask the question: How can we really help people in times of crisis? What do people really need?

Here's the link to the sermon:
How Jesus helps us, and how we can help others
We are also up on iTunes now if you want to subscribe. Just search for Missionary Community Church. You should be able to find us in the next few days.

God bless...

fun family pics

2010-03-08T11:46:00.002-06:00

messed-up kids

2010-03-01T11:35:00.004-06:00

Whenever missionaries come to "the field" they must face the unintended consequences. Culture shock, falling off the grid in their previous culture, language difficulties, new way to look at finances and salary, facing new dangers, processing poverty would all be on the short list.
But maybe the most emotional is facing the possible ripple effects of a decision to follow God in the lives of the children in your home. Our children. After all, God didn't tell them to do this. He told the parents. They are, for better or worse, along for the ride.

Much has been written about M.K.'s (missionary kids). Most people are now referring to the kids of missionary parents as "Third Culture Kids." We have read some of these books that have warned us just how possible it is that we are messing up our kids forever. Books that have told us that it is a likelihood that we will have counseling bills in our future.

We went to our yearly Intermissions Conference here for all missionaries serving full-time in Guatemala. It is one of the high points of our year every year. We connect with other missionaries and receive worship and preaching from renowned speakers. And probably the best part is checking our kids into the care of a church who comes from the States to serve us, and we only receive them back for the meals.
Inotherwords, we are freed up as parents to hold hands, walk, and go to workshops together. What a blessing!
The kids have a blast because for the only time every year, they spend time with English-speaking children, playing and laughing...running and swimming. The adults responsible for their care love on them with great affection. In fact, even though it is always 9PM when we finally pick them up, they are inevitably disappointed that they have to come back to us. We all love this conference every year!

This year Heather attended a workshop about raising kids in the mission field. There are many positives, of course, in bringing kids up in a foreign country. They can easily speak multiple languages. They have a broader worldview. Better at problem-solving. More flexible and patient. Better socialization skills. Higher spiritual and social maturity. Not afraid of independence and new experiences. Many positives actually.
But there are also "challenges" (as opposed to disadvantages). I won't mention them all because the one that breaks our hearts the most is the sense of homelessness. They are raised to have no physical roots. There were 3 M.K.'s in the session and the presenter asked where their "home" was, and they all shrugged. They had no answer for that question.

The reason people are using the term "Third Culture Kids" is for this main reason. The kids leave an initial culture. They enter a new culture. But belong to neither. They create a third culture. Sad, huh?

On our way home from the conference, Aidan (my tough guy who never cries)... started to cry. I asked him what was wrong, and he said he was "homesick." I asked him what he meant. Did he want to go back to our home in Chichi? Did he want to go back to Pennsylvania? No, no. He wanted to go with Abigail, a friend he especially loved at the conference. He wanted to go with his teachers, Mr. Rick, Mrs. Beverly, Mrs Dot.
And then Althea awakened from her nap and started crying as well. She missed Abigail as well. And she missed 3 other girls she named.

Well, now Heather and I were crying as well, and looking at each other as if to say, "What in the freak are we doing to our kids!?" And we were so sad for them. Just brokenhearted to hear them struggle with the loss of people walking out of their lives, once again.
One thing became clear to me in that moment. My kids, at 5, already have no idea where "home" is located. And in that crystallizing matter of seconds, my first thought was to pack up my family and get us back to a place where we can live around family and friends, in our own culture.

But then God spoke to me in my thoughts...
"They know where home is..."
Me: "Oh, they think "home" is people who love them. Relationships of trust and care."
God: "And..."
Me: "'And' what?"
God: "Is that bad? Wrong?...or is that exactly perfect?"

I haven't answered Him yet, because I think it was rhetorical. I think He was telling me that they get it better than I do. That because of our decision to follow Him we are creating kids who know that this world is physically not their home. Their home will never be an address, or a place with seasons, or a place without seasons. Their home will never be a stretch of land or a certain smell, or a certain tree, or a corner store, or a local park, or even a favorite food.
And even though that breaks my heart, the truth is that their home will always be about relationships.

Maybe this is just a young missionary parent trying to make the best of a sad situation. And I will put that out there....
But...

Maybe they are more prepared for heaven than I? That the only reason to live on earth is because of the relationships we have.. and keep.. and help to transform as they transform us. That those relationships are eternal. And nothing else.

Maybe the things that will make heaven be heaven will not be the golden streets with a physical building and a little yard with a perfect swing, and an address where our mail arrives from Jesus.
No.

Maybe the thing that will make heaven be heaven will be the culmination of all the relationships coming back to us again. Mrs. Dot and Mr. Rick, and Abigail will be there.
And we will be in full realization of a relationship with God. That will be heaven.

I think maybe we are creating sojourners on this earth.
And maybe, just maybe, that's a really good thing.

jose

2010-02-26T09:51:00.003-06:00

I got word that Jose was in our little Chichi hospital yesterday. Heather wasn't here, so Olivia and I went downtown to see him. He looked bad, but his family was there for him. It was good to see that. They all assured me that he would be done now. "No mas tomando." At least for this year. I prayed for him, and gave some money to help defray the hospital costs, and we started home.

Along the way a group of street kids who know me tagged along and shared stories of their home-life with me. I treated them to an ice cream cone, and we laughed about silly things. We had a good time together. Shoeless Guatemalan kids and a big gringo licking ice cream cones in the afternoon sun.

I also passed Anastasia, who spends her days in a wheelchair...on the streets. She beamed a huge smile when she saw me, and gave Olivia a big, wet, dirty kiss. She can't really speak because of a stroke she has had, but I understood that she was doing well, and glad to see the baby.

I walked home shedding a few tears.

Sometimes I can see injustice in my own life. I can feel mistreated or overlooked. "I am alive!," I want to yell to the world. Inside I feel the pull of a sin nature that wants to be noticed and confirmed. Appreciated. I want some sort of a "service for God" medal....(I'm laughing at the thought of this).

Yesterday God was telling me, "Look at them. Look at all of them. Drunks, a wheelchair bound woman, children. Notice them. Love them. Appreciate them."

I am a work in process. I am also right where I am supposed to be. Learning to walk with Christ, and realizing that the way is down and not up.

another earthquake

2010-02-23T09:25:00.001-06:00

Just now. The biggest we have felt here. We had to leave our home quickly. This is the first time I have been scared actually. Windows chattering, walls moving. I was sitting in my office studying and my chair was swaying back and forth. What is going on?

jose and another earthquake

2010-02-23T08:10:00.002-06:00

Jose still hasn't come back to work. I talked to his daughter, Loida, on Sunday and she confirmed that he was back in the streets. Now, we are in waiting mode. She mentioned that when he did this 2 years ago he binged for about 10 days, and then simply came back home, cleaned up and left it behind him. She is hopeful he will do the same this time.
I used to look at the results of my efforts and wonder if I was doing the "right" thing...if I needed to do more, or listen more clearly.
I don't have those feelings much anymore. God told me to go, and so I went. I have no idea why. It didn't make a bit of difference. And now He is telling me to wait when it seems like I could go and get him again and again and wear him down. That I could do more. It's harder to wait...for me anyway. But my greatest joy is walking with God and hearing from him...obeying him. Not always attainable or easy. But certainly the only reason to live for me.

We had another earthquake today. I'm not sure I'll ever get used to waking up to popping and creaking noises, and my bed shaking back and forth. At 4:00 in the morning it's just hard to process. Such a weird thing to have solid things like walls and floors become seemingly pliable. We waited it out and we are all okay. But that is the 3rd one this year. Something is happening under us. Maybe these Mayans were right about 2012?

God's in control. God's in control...

Jose found...maybe still lost

2010-02-20T08:25:00.003-06:00

So, yesterday morning I found Don Jose. I didn't recognize his crumpled body slumped in the street. His trademark sombrero was missing from his head. He looked drawn in and his hands were cold to the touch. He had bodily fluids on his shirt and pants. He wouldn't move.

What should I do? I prayed again to God, out loud, surrounded by a group of other drunk Mayans...who I'm sure, were wondering what a Gringo was doing hanging around the bars downtown and showing interest in this sleeping old man. This didn't feel safe, but I knew I should do something. But Don Jose would not awaken and I looked as confused as I felt.

As I turned to walk away God gentled whispered... "What if he were you're Dad?" "But God, he is not my Dad?" No answer. I guess that wasn't the question. Again... "What if he were your Dad?"

So I picked up his crumpled body and threw him over my shoulder at the protestations of the crowd of drunks. I waived down a Tuk-Tuk and brought him to our home. Carried him into our house. I put him in our guest room bed. Heather looked at me as if to say, "Honey, I love you...but now what?" I answered without her asking, "I don't know what to do next, but I'm acting as if he were my Dad."

5 hours later, after cleaning him up, and keeping him calm, feeding him some eggs and forcing water down him...I took him to his own home. This time he could walk with his arm around my shoulders. He looked better and alive. And my home only needed to be cleaned from all the fluids that kept spurting from him. My kids acted with love. My wife was a wonderful care-mate with me.

As I was walking him home we passed many, many people. The sight of a big gringo walking a little, old, drunk Mayan man home drew a mixture of humorous smiles and looks of shock. This job... if done at all, would be done by a family member. A wife, or daughter. But when I brought him to his home, I was greeted by his wife, his sister...daughters, and children with hugs and kisses. So, at least for them...it felt like the right thing to do.

Will he be at work today? Will he now stop drinking because he knows his life isn't hidden from me? I don't know. But we are praying and he knows that I know now. He knows that I care.

He kept calling me "Papito." A term of endearment and respect here. He hugged me when he was more sober, and like a child, cried on my chest. I hope he remembers that he felt God, even in his worst moments...loving him.

I won't go looking for him again. Not because it's wrong or right, but because I think I have heard from God in this. There are very few "right" answers in these situations. Because I don't really know his heart. Jesus is the loving Father who lets His prodigal children wander away. But He's also the widow who searches the entire house for a lost coin. Yesterday Don Jose was my lost coin. Tomorrow he will be my prodigal son.

Keep praying for Jose. And thank you for your continued support in these spiritual challenges. I know that we are not alone.

asking for prayer

2010-02-17T20:23:00.002-06:00

Let me first say that our family is okay. But the family that we are closest to here is not.
Loida came to work inside our home two years ago. She used her job here to vault her way into higher education and a public teaching position at a local village school. Her dream to be a social worker is still on track, and she continues to be a close friend to all of us. She has also become the nursery care worker for our church.

Her dad, Jose came to work for me over a year ago. He had lost his job at his church as a caretaker and custodian when he struggled with alcoholism. He had quit drinking but found it difficult to find work...or trust again. We hired him here and have never regretted it. He is a beautiful older man with gentle eyes and a sweet smile. We dearly love him.

Jose didn't show up for work today. Loida just visited with us this evening and tearfully told us that her father was drinking again.
She explained that Jose lost his own father 5 years ago when the problem first started, and this time...right now, was another anniversary of his dad's death. She said that he was currently walking the streets and didn't know when he would be home. She, incredibly, felt bad for me...that he had missed work.

We assured her that his job here was safe...for awhile, and that we would do all we could to help him. She was moved with emotion that we cared for him, and them so much.
Tomorrow I will be looking for him downtown. Not sure what I will say. Not sure what I will do. I'm hoping that if we make an effort to love him, God will somehow do the rest.

Can you pray with us over this?

Pray for Loida who is a bit afraid in her own home right now and hasn't been paid by the government for her teaching job yet this year, and won't until the end of March. (So many hardships she has to overcome.)

Pray for Jose. That God will show himself to him as he is wondering the streets looking for alcohol. That he will see God's love through someone...us...someone else...an angel, I don't care.

Pray that I will know what to do. Do I threaten to take away his only job? Assure him that it will always be available? Lock him up in our home for a few days? Leave him alone and pray for him?

God knows what needs to happen. We love this old man, but He loves him so very much more. May God's glory be seen in this. May we not get in His way.

trip to florida

2010-01-31T18:54:00.009-06:00

We just returned from Indialantic, Florida, where we have established a relationship with Eastminster Presbyterian Church. We were blown away by their hospitality and love for our family. They housed us in a beautiful home by the Indian River where we could watch dolphins at play. Heather's parents were able to meet us there but had to "rough it" in a condo overlooking the Atlantic Ocean.

Indialantic is a smallish community of about 3,000 people near Melbourne. The demographics tell a story of a community consisting of an above average national level of white, older retirees of higher income. So, our family of 5 year-old twins and a 5-month old baby must have caused plenty of anxiety as we raised the volume level around the beach homes.

Eastminster Pres. is a beautiful church that is nestled next to the water. I can't imagine going to church services every Sunday surrounded by the sounds of ocean, the smell of salt-water and fish, feeling the dampness in the air, hearing the sounds of birds diving for breakfast from above...but somehow they manage. They allowed me the privilege of preaching in all their services Saturday and Sunday. I spoke on the relationship between growing our faith and overcoming our fears. From what they tell me, I think the message was very well received.

Thank you Eastminster Presbyterian Church for taking care of our family for a week. Thank you for entrusting me with the preaching. Thank you for being sensitive to the Lord's leading as a body. We are recipients of your hospitality and teach-ability. And now we can't wait to see you all again!

I want to share a link where you can hear the message I delivered to their congregation. Many of you support my work as a Pastor, but have never heard me preach. Simply click on the link and you will find my sermon, "Overcoming Fear." You can simply listen or download the file for a later date.

Here it is: Overcoming Fear

first day review

2010-01-19T08:11:00.004-06:00

Whew! We made it. One day, the scariest day, down. Ali and Aidan did just fine. There were still the moments of them not knowing what was going on. And moments when the kids weren't very nice to one another. All in all, though, they had a great day.

Don't take my word for it. Here's more about their first day of school...in their own words.

What was your favorite activity of the day?
Aidan - the spider craft
Ali - having a new friend, and recess!

What was the hardest thing about today?
Aidan - not being able to eat snack when I kept asking about it
Ali - when C. (another little boy in the class) pushed Aidan

Who was a new friend you met?
Aidan - Sheri
Ali - Sheri

Tell me a new Spanish word you learned.
Aidan - fiesta (party)
Ali - pato (duck) and ganzo (duck)

I was so relieved by their smiles and good moods! And what's even better is they woke up this morning saying, "Hooray. It's the second day of school today!" Guess it's going better than I thought.

Even in their mistakes, they are finding their senses of humor. Case in point, Ali was telling us a story at dinner about how the teacher was asking her what her dad does for work, but she thought the teacher asked what color his hair is. Her response? Brown. She laughed and laughed about sayinig that her dad's job is "brown". I'm proud of her for knowing that her teacher was asking something about her dad, and for her being brave enough to answer.

It feels like we made it through a huge hurdle. Maybe there will still be days ahead when they get tired of all the processing their brains have to do. Aidan was almost crying from exhaustion when I pulled them out to do U.S. reading and writing. He put his head on the desk for awhile and got a little TLC from me, and then he was fine. There will surely be more days like that, but it will get better. At least now we are past the fear of the unknown.

First Day Jitters

2010-01-18T08:27:00.004-06:00

I think I am more nervous today than I've been about anything in a long time. I've gone through my own "first day" jitters over and over again...going through school as a student and then leading classes as a teacher, and I was always more excited than I was anxious. But today, when it's my own kids embarking on this new journey, the protectiveness of "Mama Bear" is in full roar.

When we first felt the leading to come to Guatemala, stumbling blocks I had to get over almost all involved my kids. "How can I take them into this risky, unpredictable place without them having a choice in it? What will I do if they have a medical emergency? Am I ready to take away their opportunities to be on sports teams, to have access to libraries, to go to schools I have confidence in? What if they get frustrated and lonely and feel lost and out of place?" You see, for me, it was one thing to think God might be calling me to live a life of uncertainty, but it was a different thing entirely to allow Him to convince me that He intended that for my children as well.

Today, I am struggling with entrusting them to His care all over again. I've just gotten back from taking them to their first day at El Camino (one of the Guatemalan Christian schools that the ministry helps to support). While I kept on my smile and used my this-is-going-to-be-so-great voice, inside I am terrified for them. It was hard enough for me to always wonder, "Will the other kids like me?" when I was a kid, but being a mom and wondering, "Will the other kids like them?" seems a thousand times harder. I remember thinking, "What if I don't understand what the teacher wants, and I totally screw things up?" But it's even worse worrying about Aidan and Ali and how they will manage in a classroom where every activity...every direction...every piece of work is done in Spanish.

Maybe it's worse because I know that at the beginning they won't succeed. They will have to go through their own little struggles of watching what the other kids are doing, of trying so hard to listen and then realizing it's not that their ears aren't working, but that their brains are not understanding. I fear their looks of dejection and sadness when they are so frustrated with the language that they just want to quit.

And yet, even as I cry my tears of nervousness upon leaving them at the door of their classroom, I am hopeful, too. I have the advantage of knowing that before too long, they will start to comprehend a whole new language. And, knowing that new language will take them to another level of "fitting in" here and of having numerous other opportunities open up to them for the rest of their lives. I'm excited for the friendships they will form, for the sense of accomplishment they will feel, for the comfort they will find in knowing that they can talk to the people we see around town. While I believe we did what was best for them by giving them a firm foundation in our English curriculum first, I know it's time for them to get over the hurdle of not knowing enough Spanish to feel comfortable in this culture where God has called us to serve.

Really, this struggle is about me, not them. Sure, I know they will probably complain, but it's just as likely that they will run home blabbering on and on about what fun things they did and how much they like their new teacher, Miss Eva. God is using this time to refine me, yet again. He's reminding me that I'm not in control. He is. He's reminding me that I don't know what's best for my kids. He does. He's showing me that while I am fearful, nervous, and uncomfortable with all these changes, He's the one who sees the big picture, and He knows that once we get through these initial weeks of shock and struggle, it will be good, very good, for all of us.

who is going to hell

2009-11-25T09:58:00.004-06:00

A few days ago I had an adventure with my son. He has been asking for special time to do something, and he got excited about hiking up a local mountain with me. The mountain is called Pascual Abaj, and it is the high worship ground for local Mayans. On top of this mountain they call out to their earth god, burn sacrifices and set off bombs. I've never felt afraid to be there, but I am always aware of the reason other people trek up the mountain, and the place does have a rather "evil air" about it.

But I wasn't going for any spiritual reason as I was simply using the closest mountain to test my son's ability to persevere physically with dad on a hike.

Little did I know God was planning a spiritual lesson for me.

Aidan did wonderful. He climbed up the mountain stopping only once, and before we knew it, we were sitting on a concrete structure having our snack and refreshing ourselves with water (All of which he carried, by the way). And this is how the conversation unfolded as we made our way closer to the fire where some people were burning sacrifices...

Aidan: "Dad, why do they do that?"
Dad: "Because they don't believe in God"
Aidan: "So, if they die they will go to hell?"
Dad: "Yes, buddy...but there is still time for them. That's why we are here. (Me attempting to change the subject and stay politically correct and positive) Did you know that we all moved here so we can help people not go to hell? We came to Guatemala so people could hear about God. These people just don't know Him, so they try to worship earth gods, and things like that.
Aidan: "You mean like flower gods, and butterfly gods?"
Dad: "Yep, exactly...see they just don't know."

long pause....

I start to pull his hand to begin walking away and he pulls me back.

Aidan: "So why don't you talk to them now...I'll wait."

I still haven't answered his question. Somehow I was able to change the subject and we made our way down the mountain and back home again. But his question, like waves on a shore as the high tide begins to advance, keep coming back into my heart, stronger each day.

This is what I want to say to him...
"Because Aidan, this isn't the place or time. Because this is their worship service and I would be interrupting rudely to do that. Because Aidan, that's not how it works. It takes time and resources and the right opportunity. Because Aidan, they don't know me and I would sound like a lunatic. Because Aidan, I can't speak the language well enough for such a delicate conversation. Because I'm with you Aidan, and this is our time, and these people may get angry. And besides Aidan, this is what they know and it is steeped in thousands of years in culture and family background. I can't undo all that in 10 minutes. Because Aidan...."

Because...

Because I lack your faith in the power of God. Because I lack your simple reality that people will go to hell or heaven and every moment matters. Because I am afraid to just jump in like that. Because Daddy doesn't have a great answer for you, except years of sensitivity training in how to present the Gospel.

Because maybe I blew it.

God is always working on me. Is every situation right for presenting the Gospel? Should I have interrupted a Mayan service to talk about my God...The God of the universe? Would that have been in bad form? All these things can be debated.

But what God is teaching me through my 5 year old son is that the battle is real, and Heaven and Hell are real places. And when I really believe that, it will change my behavior and inform my decisions.

"Unless we become as little children..."

serving missionaries (part 2)

2009-11-04T10:07:00.007-06:00

Serving missionaries in a pastoral capacity has probably been one of the highlights of my life. So many times, and in so many ways I have been challenged to rise to the opportunity of serving and helping to lead a community so entrenched already in serving our Lord. I have been a witness to some truly wonderful and selfless acts, and have been here long enough to see some consistently positive character traits found in almost all missionaries. I would like to share them as well:

Missionaries have developed a hard-earned belief that God will provide. Most missionaries have had the opportunity to test their faith countless times in their journey. They often wonder...Can we live on what we have? Can we actually survive as a family? What happens when we run out of money? Will we help, or hurt our kids in this obedience? Generally speaking, any missionary can site 3 or 4 instances where they were able to accomplish something only because God showed up at the last moment...with a new tool, some medicine, a timely phone call or email from a friend, a new computer or a special monetary gift of support. After awhile these things become more of a way of living than a special surprising set of lucky coincidences.
Missionaries have a large worldview. It's not just that missionaries serve in a foreign country, but oftentimes serve alongside people of diverse backgrounds. Some people come out of a sense of social justice from places like Switzerland, Denmark or Canada. Some people come to serve and help provide opportunities in business, to teach good hygiene and health practices, to provide clean water, protect resources, to share better agricultural practices. Some people come to save souls. But it's almost impossible to not have your world enlarged when serving with and conversing with so many diverse individuals.
Missionaries are wonderfully adventurous and self-reliant. Missionaries are all people of the "Renaissance". Some people come and serve others without ever knowing the language. Hand gestures are enough. If they can't find it, they make it. If they can't make it, they will find a different way to do it. There are no Walmarts or Targets here... So, one has to figure it out. Some people live so far in the "bush" they make do without hot water and electricity, only eating what they can successfully grow or trade. And these are people with little kids and babies, not twenty-something hippie hikers. I think God has blessed these people with spirits of adventure. They are our modern day cowboys.
Missionaries are careful about money expenditures. This is not just unique to missionaries, but I think uniformly so. Almost all missionaries live fully off of the support of people who trust and love them, and are interested in God's Kingdom being advanced through them. They feel a high responsibility to the churches and individuals who sacrifice to send and support them. So, knowing that, they ask themselves...What is an okay use of money? Can we buy a Christmas gift for the kids? What kind of car should we purchase? What type of furniture is okay? Is it okay to rent a movie on iTunes, or is that frivolous? Who wants to support a missionary so they can eat? So, how can we get by without any unwise food expenditures? It is all God's money, and we will all be accountable for how we use His gifts. Personally, I have repented several times for not having a mindset like this when I lived in the States, but at least we do now. My wife says I'm a late bloomer.
Missionaries know that Satan exists. It's not only a cognitive boundary to cross when one serves in a third-world country. Many of the obstacles missionaries face are a direct consequence of Satan and his demons working in the lives of others. Corrupt politicians. Drug cartels. Silent abuse in homes. Witch doctors. Chicken guts and chanting old ladies. Severely oppressive dreams. Bombs calling in the gods. Unexplainable health issues. Irrational fears turned to reality. These are real forces working against missionaries. Satan wants us to leave. He doesn't want us to get along. He wants to hurt and break up our families. The forces of evil are real and tangible for all missionaries. Praise God for He that is in us, and that He is greater than anything else!
Missionaries are forced to deal with and die to self. And I don't mean to imply that missionaries are more spiritual or closer to God. What I am talking about are the real external situations that cause missionaries to look inward more deeply than they ever have before and deal with the places of the heart that we were able to so easily medicate elsewhere. When they get to this place of soul-searching, they ponder thoughts like...What does one do when there is no TV? Why am I so bored? Why do I care so much that I haven't been in a movie theater for over a year? Why do I feel unhappy that I have no place to go any evening? Why do I feel shut in and alone? Why am I longing for a nice restaurant with my favorite food? Why do these things bother me? Why am I so lonely without family? Friends? Isn't God enough? No one sees what I do everyday. No one is providing feedback to help me improve. Why do I feel like I need to be noticed and recognized? Why do we care that our kids are missing the holidays? Aren't these just silly man-made festivities? Why do I get so angry when I have to wait long in traffic, or drive 3 hours for groceries? Well, there are no easy answers to these questions, but everyone of them lead missionaries into a deeper place where hopefully God can deal with our own personal areas of brokenness and little addictions. All of us are dealing with ugly areas where Satan hadn't been exposed before, and now is all too apparent. The only hope for healing is found in Jesus Christ, at once for salvation... and in the Holy Spirit, who gently guides us as we process and grow in that Grace.

Many people have asked me what it has been like to pastor a community of missionaries. What are the challenges and blessings? Hopefully I have shed some light on this journey without disparaging missionaries, or those who are serving Christ in all they do, wherever they are, and have never considered themselves to be missionaries.
We are all in this together.

serving missionaries

2009-10-26T13:09:00.003-06:00

It caught me by surprise. I knew that God was bringing our family here, in part, to minister to the missionary community here in Chichicastenango. I knew that my primary role would be to hold services every Sunday, preach, conduct Bible studies and lead prayer sessions for the missionaries who work and serve here full time. I just never fully comprehended what strange animals missionary's are, and how much joy I would receive from being called their "Pastor," which is what everyone calls me here.
I want to share in the next 2 blogs some of the joys and concerns of serving in a missionary community. I think that there are a few things that are only issues for us, in this place, in Guatemala...but I think those issues are minor.
I want to address the major ones, which seem to be common to all missionaries serving around the world. First, the concerns:

Missionaries seldom work together. You would think that there would not be duplication of ministries when the most important aspect is to serve the people who are indigenous to the culture. But it happens all the time. A missionary will often see something working that can become better, and instead influencing changes to the current ministry, will simply start his/her own ministry with those changes. Some of this I think comes from the innate independence in the missionary character. But I always thought it odd.
Missionaries seldom do life together. Again, you would think that with such a small community of "gringos," people would come together and share in each other's joys and concerns more. But it seldom happens. Missionaries will have moments in church or Bible study where there is true authentic sharing, but most of the time we continue to do life as we knew it in The States. We all purchase our own cars, own tools, own things, and we all have our own ways to gather resources. We have different mechanics, shop at different times and stores, and would rather walk through traffic down a dangerous and crowded "calle" to a local tienda, than to ask the person next door if they could spare some flour or sugar. This strikes me as odd as well.
Missionaries are lonely. I guess this goes with the first 2 really, and shouldn't come as a surprise. I was called to help in this area, and I think the role of our church here has made everyone's life a bit more bearable. But still, there are few English speakers in our midst. We all live in a different culture now than what we ever would consider comfortable. The food is different. No TV. Very little outward stimulation. Darkness starting at 6pm every night. Our closest friends and family live far away from here. And there is a deep and almost unfathomable amount of isolation that you can experience in the field. The questions always seem to arise among missionaries: "Am I making a difference?" 'Is this all worth the cost of the relationships I left back home?" "Does my home church even care about me?" "Who even notices what I do?" "Where is the recognition?"
Missionaries are protective of their resources. We struggle here with a mindset in the Mayan community called "Limited Goods." Missionaries deal with this mindset on a daily basis. It means simply, that there are only so many good things in life. So if someone has something good happen, then that goodness must be shared. We have had communities turn down old widows from receiving a home or care if the missionaries couldn't build homes for everyone else in the community as well. Ridiculous thinking really. And yet missionaries will have their friends, supporters and mission teams come into town and only show them what they personally do, as if there are no other missionaries in town. So, for example, if a doctor comes, many missionaries would rather find their own ideas of how to use that doctor rather than allow them to serve in a ministry here that has medical facilities and needs doctors. I think the worry here among missionaries is that maybe that supporter would start giving to a different mission organization, or missionary if they connected somewhere else. My question really, has always been to the missionaries here...are we really any different than the Mayans then? It seems like we believe in "Limited Goods" as well? And although it's understandable in human terms, it's sad all the same. And one side note on this: It can happen in churches as well. Some missionaries will get upset if other missionaries are highlighted in their home church. My wife and I have considered it a blessing to know that our church values missions at all, rather than getting caught up in which one becomes more important to a church body. God knows what we need. God knows what the others need. We are all on the same team.
Missionaries, at times, feel lost. I don't mean spiritually lost, but lost in a way that they no longer have a home. It sounds weird, but all of us have a little bit of that deer-in-the-headlights look to us. Why? Well, we have all given up the culture we knew....the language, stores, restaurants, movie theaters, holidays, roads, houses, etc....to live in a place that is so different from all those things. We have holidays here that do not coincide with anything we know. We have to struggle speaking in a different language. Our homes are different. The weather is different. Nothing looks or smells the same. It can be really disconcerting. We have left the place we know, and yet are unable to fully enter into the place where we are called to live.

Well, those are some of the hurdles for me as I continue to learn and grow into my role here as the Pastor to missionaries in the Western Highlands of Guatemala. Maybe you can pray for us and the missionaries here as we do our best to work through these issues in the Body? We miss our home, our church and family very much. But we feel blessed to have a ministry that keeps these dear servants in the field where they have been called to minister. In the next blog, I will share some of the special joys of serving the missionary community.

2009-10-20T15:00:00.003-06:00

Today has been one of those days. I wish I could pack it up...head "home"...and raise the white flag in surrender. It's not that anything terrible has happened. It's just that I'm weary. Sure, my weariness is understandable considering that I have a 2-month old who is still waking up about every four hours. But sleep would cure that, and will, as our little one keeps growing.
No, the weariness I feel today goes deeper than that. It comes from being far away from family and friends. It's from not being able to call up Grandma and say, "You know what? Don and I would really love an evening out together. Do you think you could keep the kids overnight so we could enjoy a date AND get a good night of sleep?" It comes from not being able to seek out a girlfriend and ask her to go get coffee with me just so I could get out of the house and engage in real conversation. It comes from missing one of our favorite niece's 10th birthday. And it comes from having to think so much about every word I try to say in a language I still struggle with, in a place that still feels foreign, among people I still don't really know.

Yet in my weariness, God is clarifying something for me.

He is showing me again why we are here.
We are here because there are other missionaries here who feel just like me. They need someone to offer to watch their kids so that they can run errands, or rest, or enjoy an evening with their spouse. They need friends who seek out fellowship with them so they can be reminded that they are loved and valued. They need to be able to celebrate the holidays and traditions of our homeland while still being encouraged to embrace this other culture that we live in. They need people who care about them.

This is what God has laid on my heart:
That Don and I were brought here to be the hands and feet of Christ's love to the missionaries who have devoted themselves to serving Him in a land far away from their homes. We are to be the ones who notice the needs and help fill that void. We are the ones who can open our home in hospitality and friendship. We can pray, by name, for every missionary who may be struggling with homesickness, the financial burden of not having enough support, the tiredness of seeing so much need day after day after day among other concerns.
So, even though it hasn't been a "happy, happy, joy, joy" kind of day, I do feel a certain amount of peace and renewed focus. I know that God has us here for a reason. Some of that reason is to be a light to the Guatemalans who don't yet know Him...but a bigger part of that reason is to love the other missionaries He has called here...so that their lights can shine even brighter.

nehemiah sermons

2009-10-07T12:15:00.005-06:00

I have been preaching out of the Book of Nehemiah for the last several weeks, and it has been encouraging to me as well as the missionary community. We have learned about passion for God's glory, leadership, planning and defense of a vision and mission, social and economic fairness, as well as the ways in which Satan tries to ensnare us and get us disconnected from our calling. And we have only covered the first 6 chapters!

Wow! What an amazing section of scripture. I have been exceptionally influenced by the 5th chapter. I just can't ignore or push aside these scriptures anymore when it speaks so thoroughly to our responsibility to those who are struggling.
I think many of us want our financial decisions to be separate from our relationship with God....but they just are not.

God's glory is wrapped up in how we use our money.

There are over 800 scriptures that reference finances in the Bible. Over 25% of Jesus' teachings was dedicated to money. He taught more about money than he did about the Kingdom of God.

And the deal in Nehemiah 5 was that there were some larger families who didn't have enough money to feed themselves. They had to mortgage their homes, lands, even daughters to pay for food. Interest rates were so high they couldn't get out from under their debt.
(And this is what the people of God were doing to the people of God!)
So, Nehemiah steps in and reminds the people that it wasn't right. It wasn't right that the rich were getting richer and the poor, poorer. It wasn't right that some Jewish leaders were eating leg of lamb with asparagus and lemon sauce while others were starving to death.

And Nehemiah's passion was greater than just for the people who were poor. In fact, Jesus said the poor will always be with us. No, Nehemiah's passion was for God's glory, because the world outside the walls were looking inside the walls, and saying, "they are no different from us. They just care about financial gain and bigger homes, and better gadgets just like we do. Their religion is no different from ours. We care about those things as well."

And so, Nehemiah convinced his people to stop and care better for one another because the world was watching. It did make a difference and God hated it. God cared about this.

So, they stopped. They returned all the money made on interest. They returned the deeds to houses they had acquired through deals. They gave back lands to poor people.

And this wasn't socialism or communism. This wasn't about everybody having the same amount.
This was about taking care of the poor, and not blaming the poor. This was about calling rich people to never make a dime off the backs of a poor person.

A good message for all of us.

And how can any of us read Leviticus 25:35-40 and not be affected deeply about how we should treat those who are below us on the economic scale?

I was reading the other day a study about how the very rich spend their money. Interesting.
Hannah Shaw Grove and Russ Alan Prince did a paper about people who were rich enough to own a private jet. (John Travolta has 5)
Anyway, this is what they discovered these people spend money on YEARLY...on average.

$30,000 a year on alcohol
$98,000 a year on experiential guided tours
$107,000 at spas
$117,000 on clothes
$147,000 on watches (I don't get it???)
$157,000 on resorts
$168,000 on chalet rentals
$226,000 on cars (remember...per year)
$248,000 on jewelry
$404,000 on yachts
$542,00 on home improvements
$1.75 million a year on art

I know this is going to sound really snide and ugly.....

But I wonder if any of these people have ever seen a little baby die because of lack of food? A little boy with crooked and bloody feet because of not having shoes? A young father reeking of feces and alcohol because there is no work and there's nothing else to do with his time, and living has become hopeless?

We, the church should demand more of ourselves. The world is watching. The world has heard us defend these actions way too many times because of our political slant or on the grounds of stimulation of the economy.

And this isn't about Us vs. Them. Whoever We think They are.
This is about all of us looking at our financial decisions and asking the simple question: Is this what God would do with this money? Because it is His money to begin with. Isn't it?

And I want you to know that as we talked about this as a missionary community, we were (and are) asking the same questions of ourselves. Many, if not most of the people who give to us have very little in terms of worldly value. I'm not sure how some people continue to support us, and with such sacrifice.
And God is glorified. We are thankful. And we just happen to be your hands and feet here in Guatemala. We are here because of you getting this.

But we need to be consistent with this message in the workplace and among our friends. We need to stop being Republicans and Democrats and start being God's people, taking care of the people who are truly without...because the world is watching.

And so is our God.

doing our best

2009-10-01T16:02:00.005-06:00

Royal Academy is not a school that would ever be noticeable to the outside world. We’re located on the premises of Hotel Casa del Rey, nestled on a hillside in Chichicastenango,

Guatemala

. The classrooms are tucked away in a partially abandoned building that once was meant to be a conference center for the hotel. We only have two teachers and seven students…total. There are no buses, no libraries, no interscholastic sports, no lunches in cafeteria. Siblings of different grade levels are being taught in the same classroom by the same teacher at the same time.

Sounds a little bit like a one-room schoolhouse, doesn’t it? And that is kind of what it’s like. Except that while we lack many resources, we are trying to give our students an experience that matches the standards and opportunities of what their peers are receiving in the United States.

Here’s what we do to make that happen. We choose curriculum that is challenging, intriguing, and relevant. We cross-check to ensure that the curriculum aligns with the standards in the US and then supplement our materials when we notice gaps. We ask students to be active learners by improving our teaching methods to require more of their participation. We use the small class size to our benefit by giving the students as much individual attention as possible and by allowing them to move at the pace that is best for them. We search for resources online, ask for donations from others and make creative modifications to what we already have. We encourage our students not to settle for anything less than their very best, to be honoring to God in their effort, and to use their advantages to help others.

A good lesson for all of us, don’t you think?

And here’s the thing. While we do what we can with what we have to give our students the best possible educational experience, there’s still so much more that we could use.

More that we need.

We desperately need an elementary teacher for our youngest students for next year. We have a high school student who would greatly benefit from the expertise of a math and/or science teacher. We could use new or usable computers to keep our students up on technology. We would love new and gently-used books to build up a library. We would even benefit from new teacher’s materials that allow our educators to keep up-to-date on the latest research and information about effective teaching practices.

So, while we are striving to give the students our best, maybe you could pray about whether God is asking you to take part in any of the educational efforts of our missionary kids’ school?

And although we live 7,000 feet above elevation, overlooking an economically insignificant village and people, living unnoticed by the world...the contributions you make will be noticed…by our teachers, by our students, and by our Lord.

birthday party

2009-09-21T10:01:00.003-06:00

Heather and I recently visited our friend's home in the mountains. His name is Victor, and we love him and his family very much. Syndi, their youngest, was turning 3 last Friday and they had nothing planned for her. So, we invited ourselves and brought our family and a few gifts. (By the way, thank you Grandpa and Grandma for sending gifts for us to give!)
I think they were surprised by our visit and we had a rich time together...laughing and singing, sharing time with them in their little home. They asked me to pray for Syndi before I left and there wasn't a dry eye in the room when I finished my simple prayer for her.

It is in moments like these that we feel most closely connected to God, and so thankful for listening to His call on our lives. Just 4 gifts (2 for the birthday girl, and one each for the siblings), some bologna sandwiches and hot chocolate, and you would have thought we were sharing in the most exciting day ever.

And I guess we were.

Some pictures of our time together:

on the lighter side

2009-09-18T13:42:00.002-06:00

As a father of a newborn once again, I was amused by an old article I came across helping new fathers with the arduous task of cleaning messy diapers. I thought I would share the article with you:

Invariably, this modern thinking father will be called upon to baby-sit this bundle of joy. In the beginning it's not so bad. Your baby will sleep a lot. Eventually, as you baby-sit more and more, the child will at one time or another emit an odoriferous cloud that will permeate the entire room. This is your first clue of a dirty diaper.

Step 1: Check your watch. How much time until your wife comes home? (If you have no doubts about changing this diaper, go to Step #2. What is the relative discomfort of the child? Using these factors, you can possibly avoid changing this dirty diaper. When your wife comes home and asks, "Why didn't you change the baby's diaper?", you can respond one of two ways. "Why, did he need changing?" or "I didn't think she was finished." Although your wife may force you to change the diaper anyway, at least you have her advice and possible assistance. When avoidance is not possible, go to the next step.
Step 2: Ascertain the extent of damage. Smell does not always correlate with damage. A visual inspection is the best way. Peek in the diaper if the outside view is inconclusive. Believe it or not, a small 7 pound baby can have a BM from the neck to the toes. I could tell horror stories of socks filled, but I'll leave that to your imagination. If the area involved is extensive, the bath tub is the best place for diffusing this biological bomb.
Step 3: Prepare six or more wipes BEFORE dismantling clothes WARNING: IF THIS ADVICE IS NOT FOLLOWED, FLAILING FEET MIGHT IMPACT THE SOILED AREA CAUSING GREATER DAMAGE
Step 4: Because of a strong gag reflex, new fathers should avoid prolonged breathing while shedding the clothes. Upon reaching the diaper, take one deep breath and open the diaper. WARNING: MALE CHILDREN REQUIRE ADDITIONAL PROTECTION
Step 5: Take the 1/2 dozen wipes, one at a time and quickly clean area effected. Restrain child in order to avoid further contamination. Dispose of wipes and diaper in a plastic bag to confine odors.
Step 6: Reassemble with fresh diaper. Apply powder or A & D ointment as needed. WARNING: DON'T USE BOTH!
Step 7: Congratulate yourself on a job well done. Remind yourself that your father never did this job.
Step 8: When your wife arrives home, do not brag about your abilities. She will call upon you to exercise these skills more and more.

thankyou

2009-08-31T10:21:00.007-06:00

Life is not always easy. All of us know that. And the normal scrapes and bruises of life can be exacerbated on the mission field. We are not privy to the usual conveniences of superstores, electricians, plumbers, mechanics, IT professionals, etc.

We are also not as physically close to family and friends. And at no time has that been more clear than with the introduction of baby Olivia Sue to our family. No doting friends, no church introductions, no kisses from extended family.

It has been easy for me to gradually move into a mode of self-pity and self-righteousness without fully being aware of it. It feels like bitterness, but the root is much deeper. Somewhere inside I have agreed in covenant with Satan that we are doing more than others and, therefore, deserve better.

Isn't that awful? But I think it must be down there. Somewhere it must be, because why else would I get so inwardly discouraged when someone steals $8,000 from our home? Why else does my gut hurt when Heather tells me we have an $8,000 credit bill because of our hospital stay and health insurance renewal? "Great," I think. "That's the same amount we would have had if someone hadn't taken the gift from our home church!"
Why else would I be so inwardly discouraged by the long trips to Guatemala City for groceries and supplies? Why else do I inwardly fume at the high cost of baby formula and cheese, chicken breasts and juice? Why else do we find ourselves frustrated that we are closed up in our home by 6:00PM every night as the darkness closes in around us? And without the comforts of a simple TV program to mindlessly distract and entertain us.
Why else would are we mourning the distance between us and our friends and family in this time of having a newborn? Why else am I so deeply foiled by the thought of dealing with the flu, colds, fevers and stomach viruses without the help of a doctor and available medicine? Why else did I quietly cry to myself when the electricity went off the other day in the middle of me cooking dinner for my family.

The truth is that Satan comes in my ear in these moments and whispers ever so softly..."You deserve better." And I say..."I think you're right."

Just recently I was reminded of what it would be like if God actually opened the gates that were holding back all the suffering that could come upon me. If people weren't praying for us and supporting us financially. If violence came our way and attacked our children. If something awful happened to us making the dangerous drive to and from the city. If you stopped believing in us. If, if...if. We have been here in Guatemala serving for one year now and I am trying to break a bad covenant with Satan with these following truths. I won't take time to explain them or support them with scripture...but you will find these truth's all throughout the Bible.

1) I deserve nothing, not even a Savior.
2) I am no better than anyone else, in fact, I am the chief of all sinners.
3) Following God does not make life easier. It makes life worthwhile.
4) I deserve so much worse than any difficult circumstances that come my way.
5) I would not be who I am without the prayers and support of so many gracious and loving people.
6) People have given more to me than I have to them. I should be more thankful.
7) God has always, and will always, provide for my needs...in His timing. Even if it means my eternal need for forgiveness and redemption.
8) My sin nature wants me to judge others harshly and my own life with grace.
9) My life is meant to be purposeful and meaningful, not pleasant and happy all the time.
10) God loves me. He really loves me.

I want to apologize and ask for your forgiveness. We always sin in community. And when I have been most concerned about my life, I have not been concerned about yours. That needs to change. We are here. Our journey will continue. With your help and support and the Lord's blessing. I want to post a few pictures of some of our lighter moments the past year..

olivia

2009-08-09T19:17:00.005-06:00

Boy, I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks because we've been waiting on this little girl. Of course we didn't know what we were going to have, but now we know.
Olivia Sue Logan. 6 pounds and 6 ounces. Born at 9:02 AM. August 7, 2009. The date has been forever marked...for us. And we hope a memorable day for many others she will touch in the future.
Our own little Guatemalteca.
I'll blog later about ministry, dangers, joys and triumphs as we continue to journey here. But right now we are simply enveloped once again with the absolute miracle that has arrived in our life.
Thank you all for your prayers and concern.

police

2009-07-20T08:50:00.005-06:00

Heather and I recently made a trip to the city, only to be pulled over by a truck-full of police. Flashing lights, sirens, guns...the whole thing. They jumped out of their vehicle and quickly surrounded mine, automatic rifles drawn.

One guy came to my window and asked if I had any firearms in the car. "Uh...no'" I said.

"Tiene papeles?"

"Uh, yes sir I have papers," I said.

I know the police are corrupt. And I knew this wasn't going to be a good day, so I...well, lied a little bit.

I pointed to my wife's very pregnant belly, and said excitedly, "You must be quick, we are going to the hospital right now, my wife is having a baby!" He looked at her and then whispered to one of the other policemen, and waved his arm and said, "Vamos! Dale!" Which I knew meant that I was free to go.

And so I sped away, never looking back until we arrived at the doctor for our 35 week appointment.

Now why did they stop us?

Well we were not speeding. We hadn't done anything wrong. Except, well, we did stop at McDonald's to grab a coffee. And since we were pulled over a block after we left the restaurant, we are pretty sure they were either tipped off, or saw a couple of "Gringos" get into a Toyota 4-Runner.

Our doctor (a Guatemalan) assured us that they were either looking for money, or seeking to do us harm. Either way, we are thankful that God chose to protect us on this day.

Things are tense right now for us. And this didn't help.

A group of about 5 people were recently lynched next to us trying to break into the home of Jose and Shari Salazar, close friends of ours. It was a loud and ugly scene. And when it was all said and done, one of the guys that was beaten had a police badge...??

One of the things I miss most about the United States is the feeling of security, and knowing that for the most part, and with the exception of a few "bad eggs," you can trust the government...and the police.

You never know who's gonna get you here.

finding jesus

2009-07-09T23:26:00.004-06:00

I was really inspired by the song to make this video. Don't forget to go to the bottom of this webpage and pause the other music player.
See if you can find Jesus in this video.

2009-07-09T23:26:00.001-06:00

did some good

2009-07-05T22:24:00.004-06:00

Sometimes things break here and I can't fix them. Electricity issues. Water not draining properly. My car continually breaking down. Purchasing items only to find out they are broken in a box when we get home, or never work correctly. (Is this a third-world issue, or just Guatemala by the way!?)

Anyway, I get tired and sometimes want to break myself. I just want things to work right, so life feels easier. It's hard enough as it is here.

But sometimes the sky opens up and light shines down and I feel like I can do something good.

I had a conversation with my friend and employee, Victor. He explained severe discomfort his wife was experiencing. He had driven her to a cheap hospital in Solola and they sent her home after giving her some fluids, and a bill for 150 Q, or about $20 U.S. But she wasn't getting any better, and in fact, was getting worse.

He was going to simply wait it out. They couldn't afford to do anything else.

Well, I immediately picked her up and drove her to our hospital here in Chichi to see Doctor Tom Hoak, a friend of ours who works here full-time as a missionary as well. He quickly got her in and recognized the appendicitis for what it was, and immediately prepped her for surgery.

Tom asked if I wanted to be in the surgery to give the family comfort, and I reluctantly obliged.

An hour and a half later, we had extracted a really bad appendix and possibly saved her life.
The final bill was 1,000Q, or about $120 U.S.
I paid half, and the family paid half...and we are all so very thankful.

Now where else can you ask a simple question ("How is your wife?"), and 15 minutes later you are paying out of pocket for a surgery you are in the operating room assisting?

Some days I feel like I can't do anything.

But this day was a really good day.