The difference is how comfortable your chair is: A Christmas Message

We have been back stateside for a couple weeks.  We are grateful to be able to visit and catch up with family and friends.   While the falling the snow leads us to miss the warmer climate of Mexico, it pales in comparison to the warmth of friendship and family.   Our hearts are torn as we remember our new friends down in Mexico and we see how much our nieces and nephews and our kid's friends have grown.   We know we are following God's will and we are aware cost of being in the mission field for the year and the cost of discipleship.

Being back, even for this short bit, has shown us how universal our human needs are.   Last week Maria had the opportunity to sit and visit with a friend who have been struggling with illness for over a year.  We have been able to step into the journey with family friends as they navigate the beautiful and heart-wrenching adoption process with all its twists and turns and ups and downs.   Yesterday Josh attended a funeral mass for a Canisius High School senior and the son of St. Gregory the Great parish family who tragically passed away last weekend.   It doesn't matter if you are in Mexico or New York or the other side of the world, we experience the same anxiety, loss, doubts, grief, and loneliness.   There is poverty all around the world... only occasionally does it come as a result of a lack of income and physical hunger.   So often the poverty is spiritual and emotional.  It is a poverty of the heart and of the soul, not the wallet.   It is the same stories; the difference is just how comfortable your chair is.

Here we hear the cry, "O come...  O come....   Emmanuel... that mourns in lonely exile here."   It is the cry of the broken human heart longing to find comfort and solace.   It is the groaning of a world in need of love and a savior.   It is the yearning to know that we are not alone in this mess.

It is from this poverty of anxiety and loneliness that God hears our cries.  Just as in the days of old, during the time of the Exodus, God responds.   "And from their bondage their cry for help went up to God.  God heard their moaning and God was mindful of his covenant... God saw his people, and God knew..."   The story of Israel, our older brothers in the faith, is our story too.   We share the same history and the same scriptures.   This same story is shared with whole world, because it is a human story.   God has heard our cries, and he knows in a deep and experiential way.   This is Jesus, who wept at the death of his friend Lazarus, who had compassion over the crowds, who looked at the leper and the woman with a hemorrhage and was moved.

It is as the poor, in the solidarity with the poor, that God comes into the world.  This is Jesus, who did not come down to live in a palace or as a emperor, but came as a child, to a poor family, in a poor manager.   He came into our mess.  His arrival was not made know to Caesar or Herod, but to shepherds by the angelic words, "Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people."   It the shepherds that first heard the good news for all people.   How do we know that the Messiah and Lord is for all people?  "And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."  (Luke 2)

And finally it is in the poor that Christ was found.   This is the Christ-child, who was not born in the glorious Jerusalem, but forgotten Bethlehem.  The chief priests and scribes instructed the magi that the newly born king was to be found in Bethlehem.  "And you, Bethlehem, land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; since from you shall come a ruler, who is to shepherd my people Israel."  (Matthew 2:6)   For as Jesus quoted Psalm 118, "The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; by the Lord has this been done, and it is wonderful in our eyes."

During this Christmas season, where is Jesus coming into the mess in your life?   Where is his manger in your heart?   From where have you been calling out and inviting him in?  And...  Where are the poor  in your life with whom the Christ-child might be found?   To whom you may be called to share your love and gifts?

May the Lord pour forth his love and grace upon you during this Christmas season.  May you encounter him in the stables and managers of your hearts and lives.

An Important Announcement!

What is going on?!?!

 

It is not everyday that you get to be pushed 30 miles through the deserts of Northern Mexico.  For those of you who saw the picture posted on Facebook, here is the story!

Every 180 days it is necessary to Americans to return to the border to renew our tourist visas.   If there is car imported with US plates, we also have to renew the vehicle’s visa around the same time schedule.   Failure to return the car to the border on time can result in the person who brought it in from being blacklisted from ever bringing a vehicle into Mexico again.   And the Mexican government has the technological means to track both drivers and cars.  Ol’ Blue is a 1997 blue suburban that came down in May as an extra vehicle for our team to use in General Cepeda.  As a missionary vehicle she has had her fair share of miles and off-roading.   We often joke that Mexico is the place where FMC vehicles go to die.  With Intake 2017 arriving during the first three weeks of November for the formation and training of new FMC missionaries, we decided to drive Ol’ Blue up to the other FMC post in Allende, Mexico for exportation and to do a quick border run for supplies for the 35+ individuals that will be here for November.   It was also a great excuse to visit our missionary friends Tonio and Mari Garza and their family.  (Click here to read about the first time we met the Garzas and entered Mexico back in May) 

This past Monday Aron and I drove Ol' Blue while Maria and the other kids followed in our suburban ("The Beast").   It is about a five hour drive, and we didn't want to push Ol' Blue given her geriatric state.   She has been getting AARP mailings from the DMV for years.   As we began Aron and I prayed for safe travels and that God would set up divine appoints with anyone that we met along the way.  We were about two thirds of the way when I heard the unfortunate squeaking sound of the serpentine belt.   I began looking for a possible place to pull over when the sound suddenly stopped and I noticed the battery gauge crawl lower and lower.   Physics determined our final stopping point as Ol' Blue died on the shoulder.   Maria pulled ahead of me and met me at the hood as we began to consider our options.   At this point we were closer to Tonio and Mari, but we were still a good hour and a half away.   Of course we know no one in the area and were about thirty minutes from the closest substantially sized town or city.   We sent Tonio a text (thank you Jesus for Google translate) and gave Ben Schumann, our community leader back in General a call.   At the end of our conversation Ben led us in a quick prayer, asking for God's assistance and that He would send the right people.   No more than sixty seconds after hanging up the phone, two gentlemen in uniforms came from behind Ol' Blue.   At first I thought they were cops and my heart crawled into my throat as I saw the red and blue lights flashing on their truck.   But, praise God, they were with Angeles Verdes (Green Angels).   Basically, the Mexican equivalent to roadside assistance or AAA.

 

They introduced themselves as Juan and Javier.  When they saw the engine, they asked where we were going and they offered to give us tow us to Sabinas, about thirty miles in the right direction.   They told me that I needed to put Ol' Blue in neutral and that I needed to stay in the right lane.   I should have realized that they didn't have a tow cable or chains and that they planed on pushing Ol' Blue the whole thirty miles.   Seriously, this is an experience that everyone needs to have in Mexico!   Getting pushed at 45-50 mph up and down desert hills and into a town is a guaranteed way to get the heart rate up and the palms sweaty.

When we arrived at the mechanic Juan and Javier asked if we were missionaries.  I was wearing an FMC shirt.   When we told them yes they were both really excited and began quoting scriptures.   Quoting 2 Timothy 4, they explained how important it was to have missionaries that can preach and share the truth in a world of so many false teachings, empty promises, and materialism.   We took a couple moments to thank them, to pray with them and for their families.

We then talked to the mechanic, Raul, he noticed that it wasn't just the serpentine belt that needed to be replaced but that the tension pulley and water pump were also blown.   Nevertheless they could have it done in about two or three hours and that it would run about 2,500 pesos for parts and labor (only about $140 in USD!   A water pump alone runs about $200 in the states.)

About thirty minutes after arriving Tonio showed up with a friend and we decided to leave Ol' Blue to get repaired at to return the next day to pick it up.   That way we would avoid driving at night, seeing at best she would be ready around 6:30 pm.

That evening we gathered with the Garza family for a family night prayer.   Tonio shared Acts 5: 27-32.  In the passage Peter and the apostles are brought before the Jewish leaders and are corrected for continuing to teach and preach about Jesus.   Peter responds by saying, "We must obey God rather than men."   To be obedient to God, is to be in the palms of His hands.   There is no better place.  No matter what happens, whether something small and somewhat trivial like breaking down along the side of the road in the Mexican desert, or something truly tragic, we remain in the Him hands.  We may never know why something happens, but God is still present with us.   He sends His angels to journey with us.   Sometimes the angels are colored green.

I feel asleep that aware of God's grace and peace.   Late Tuesday afternoon, Maria and I drove back down to pick up Ol' Blue.   We drove about 5 miles from the mechanic, when I began to wonder if the headlights were working properly.   They just seemed dim and the dash wasn't as bright as it should have been.   I pulled over to a gas station when the battery light came on and Ol' Blue died again.  Why Lord do You like to prove how much we are in Your hands?

Maria was able to pull around and jump Ol' Blue with our suburban, but we were again not comfortable with trying to drive her or push her all the way back.   By this time it was dark out.   So we asked the gas station attendant if we could come back tomorrow to get Ol' Blue, and drove back to Tonio and Mari's without Blue... again.

On the way we began to think through our options.  What if it is the alternator?   What about the battery?   How much more money should we be putting in to Ol' Blue before dumping her?   Do we try to find a mechanic in Sabinas?   Do we just tow her back ourselves?   Do we jump her, drive her as far as we can, and then repeat as often as necessary?   Tonio and I decided to go back the next morning and try to figure it out.

Wednesday morning I woke up anxious.   God, how are we going to get this car back?   What is it going to take?   I just want to be done with it!!   Tonio and I drove the 45 minutes back to Ol' Blue.   Of course she started right away without a jump, but the battery gauge only went about a quarter of the way, not the halfway point where it normally should rest.   So we let her run for a little bit to see if the charge changed.   Slowly it began to dip, so Tonio went to find the closest shop.   Praise God, it was literally right behind the gas station.   The new mechanic took 30 seconds and identified the problem... simply a loose wire that ran from the battery to the alternator, a five minute fix.  God has us in the palms of His hands.  Third time is the charm, we were able to get Ol' Blue exported and settled.

Please pray for Intake 2017 as the begin their three week stay down here in Mexico.  It is such a blessing getting to know the new FMC missionaries during this time of training!

We are beginning to make plans to come back to Ohio and Western NY to visit family and friends in December and January!   We hope to see as many of you as possible.

STAY TUNED!   We will be releasing a new video this week with an important announcement and update about our family's missionary work in 2018.  (Here is a hint... we are not pregnant)

 

There are No Magic Wands

I am so sadden looking out into the world and seeing so many problems and tragedies and issues.  Whether something on the larger scale that receives more media attention or smaller more "neighborhood" occurrences.  There have been natural disasters like the earthquake in Mexico City and hurricanes in Texas, Florida, and Puerto Rico.   There are the tragedies like the murders in Las Vegas.   There are the deeply heartfelt convictions surrounding racial inequalities, supporting the U.S. military, and kneeling during the national anthem.  These are just a few.   There are many more examples of recent events, issues, and headlines that have popped up on my notifications and Facebook.

First and foremost, and I really want to emphasis this point... My heart and prayers go out to all those that have fallen victim, are suffering and grieving, and who are trying to put together their lives from any of these situations.   The sudden loss of life and the suffering that results from natural disasters, and, I think even more so, from the hands of another human being is beyond words.   My gratitude for the courageous men and women who have suffered and given the service of our country and for liberty is tremendous.  Perhaps living out of the U.S. has given me an even deeper appreciation.   My heart is heavy that a fellow human being is looked down upon and harassed due to the color of their skin. 

And comes the question of what do we do about these things.   How do we make it better?   Do we open ports to a U.S. territory that is over $70 billion in debt to receive aid?  For the safety of the general public, do we allow more conceal carry permits?   Do we legislate stronger laws on gun control?   To be honest... I don't know.   And not to sound like a Debbie Downer, but we won't stop these things from happening.   There will always be natural disasters.   While we will make advances in mental health, we will never cure all mental illnesses, depression, anxiety, fear, etc.  There will always be, at least on this side of eternity, prejudices, discrimination, violence, etc.   Despite how well trained our law enforcement and just and firm our laws, all though a minority, there will always be those who disregard and break them.   And occasionally even by those who wear the badge.

We should be striving to address and correct these tragedies and issues, but there is no magic wand, or pill, or simple solution to any of the world's problems and tragedies.  I'm sorry, but there is not.   The situations and the issues surrounding them are complex.   There is never just a single thread, but a complex tapestry of a frail and damaged world.  While ALL human beings are fundamentally good, for ALL are created in the image and likeness of God, we are broken, stained with original sin.   I know it is cliché, but I have gotten so use to our fast food, Google, smartphone society, that sometimes I forget that 99% (made up figure) of real issues, problems, and tragedies of the world cannot be fixed like a drive thru or with a click on a screen.

This is not just an American reality.   It can be found throughout the world.  There is a young woman in her late teens with a year old daughter.   For privacy's sake we will call her "Mary."   For the past year we have been working with Mary trying to find ways to support her and her daughter, finically, emotionally, spiritually, etc.  Unfortunately Mary's circumstances are not unique to the women of Mexico.   Her boyfriend, the father of the child, cannot hold a steady job and is abusive.   There is a roller coaster history of Mary leaving him and then returning.   We have provided outs for her and have tried to help her become independent.  It is an uphill battle, and one that Mary has to decide to choose for herself.   We will continue to reach out to her and help her and love her.  There is no magic wand.   I cannot fix and change the situation with a quick swish and a puff of smoke.

The only solution is LOVE!   It sounds so cliché!   But it is true.   I'm in no way talking about an emotion or some flighty idea or pie in the sky utopian.   LOVE IS NOT A MAGIC WAND!  Love takes work, sacrifice, and time.   It involves truly listening to the other, striving for compassion.   It strives to understand the depression, the loss, the grieving, the fear, the slavery that envelopes the emotions and the heart.   It seeks out those trapped in mental illness, enslaved to poverty, and cast out onto the fridges of society.   It praises those who have sacrificed much for society, and it stretches out its hand to those who have suffered much by society.

Love is not an easy fix and it costs much.   Again, I risk sounding cliché, but look at the cross.   The cross is not easy; it is not a magic wand.   Christ poured Himself out totally and completely...

 ...for you... 

...for me...

...for the whole world.  

Love is not easy, but it is the solution.   Peace won't come from our laws, or policies.   It will only come through love.  Can we say yes to this divine love for each of us individual?   Do we have the courage to let that love change us and transform us?   Knowing that we are unconditionally loved, are we willing to surrender and change those areas of our lives that hold us back from receiving more of that love?   Are we willing to go out and show that love to others, aware that it will cost us?  

In this love, I can place my hope.

This past Wednesday was the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi.   I cannot think of a more powerful prayer that captures the need for love to change our world.  

Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.


P.S.
The ideas and thoughts for this post have been bouncing around and coming together for the past week or so.  It took me a while just to figure out a title for this post.   I was considering variety of options including a subtitle of "A missionary perspective on recent tragedies and headlines and the social media."   As an FMC missionary, I'm careful regarding topics surrounding politics and as a rule I try to avoid it online and in social media (even before I was a missionary).   My goal here is not to engage in politics.   My attempt to thread a line through these issues and circumstances is not to end up sitting on a fence, but hopefully, through God's grace, transcend above them and to challenge, first foremost myself, to deeper conversion to the Gospel and to Christ's love.   If you are interested in talking more about recent events, I would love to do so via email, over the phone, or even better, face to face in the future.   I am eager to have these conversations, but please do not seek a political dialogue on this blog page or through Facebook.

Updates from Language School

First of all, thank you for all your concerns and prayers for the people of Mexico during last week’s earthquake.   We are safe and did not feel the tremor at all while at language school in Guadalajara (about 300 miles from Mexico City).   Our hearts and prayers continue to go out to the people and the country that are so generously hosting us.

Language school is going great.   Maria and I both get two hours of class time each morning with no more than two other students.   We take turns getting an hour of private tutoring in the afternoon.   The boys are in a class with just themselves for two hours a day.   MJ and Naomi go to a Montessori school from 8:30 to 1:00.   We have been learning a lot and enjoyed exploring the area and culture.

Studying with Dad.

Washing the dishes.

 

Street performers based of off indigenous traditions.

View from the hike into a canyon near Guadalajara.

Reason for the hike... volcanic hot springs!

We also got to reunite with a little of Buffalo when we went to visit Chris and Ann Marie Duquin and their children in Ajijic over the weekend!   The town, and mountains, and lake felt like the Adirondacks with the occasional palm tree.  We eventually did figure out the timer on the camera. With the local dogs trying to sniff the shutter, this was the best we got!

The Duquin and Gehl Families

Exploring the Streets of Ajijic.

Colors of the market

More colors

Speaking of markets... Jesus is a horrible economist!  In this past weekend's gospel (Matthew 20:1-16) Jesus shares a parable about a boss who goes to the main square and hires workers in the morning, some more at noon, again some more in the afternoon, and finally another group an hour before the end of the workday.   He then pays them in the opposite order that he employed them, but paying them all the same amount, a full day’s wage.   The workers that worked the whole day, and therefore were paid last, were upset feeling that it was unjust that they were paid the same as those that worked only an hour.   

A critic of more progressive economic structures, perhaps like socialism, might suggest that the next day, people would show up later in the square, hoping to work only a half day or less and hoping to get the full day’s wage.   Eventually all potential workers would show up only at the last hour, hoping to get employed and get paid for a full day of work.   Of course then business would slow down and most likely reach a point where it was no longer sustainable to hire people only for an hour and pay them for a full day.

Having lived in Mexico for the past several months and after exploring various plazas and markets, my imagination creates new images of what this scene and what the people must have looked like.  The question comes to my mind, who were the people that did not get hired till the last hour?   When the boss asked them, “Why do you stand here idle all?” They simply responded, “Because no one has hired us.”   Why did they not get hired earlier in the day?   Maybe they had some kind of handicap that made them undesirable for hire.   Perhaps they were bound to a wheelchair or some other physical calamity, had an addiction, or struggled with a mental illness. Their usefulness was in question to the point where they were perceived as more of a hindrance to most potential employers.

Señor Juan

As we encounter these individuals, as we learn their names, their stories, and come to know them, and even consider them friends, I am forced to have a new perspective.   The morning we were leaving General Cepeda for Guadalajara, I was taking garbage to the corner when I heard Señor Juan call to me asking for help.   Of course Señor Juan, didn't know who I was.   Seriously, he didn't know I was a missionary.   He didn't know I was white or an American.  He didn't know if I was a man or a woman, if I was an adult or a child.   He couldn't...  Señor Juan is blind.   He needed to get to the Presidencia, the local town hall or municipal building, about 100 yards from the corner he was standing at.  I figured out that either a family member or friend had dropped him off and for some reason did not take him the rest of the way.   He was standing at the corner waiting for anyone to pass him so he could ask for help.  

It took me a while to figure out what exactly he wanted, but eventually I figured it out, I took him by the hand and walked him the rest of the way.   Of course this was September 16, the Mexican Independence Day, so everything was closed.   After another fifteen minutes of communicating, I figured out that he didn't need a ride back to his house.   Which is good, because I have no idea how a blind man would give me directions.   "Turn here" and "Go past the next green house" don't really work.  Fortunately he only needed a help to the Comedor.  (A "restaurant" that provides free meals for the sick and elderly.)   As we walked this time, I noticed his slow gate was partially due to his blindness, but also due to the poor condition of his shoes.   I asked him how were his feet, he said good, but that his shoes were a little old.  That was an understatement.   I judged the rough size of his feet and told him that I may have a pair that would fit him.  I was able to direct him to the short concrete wall to sit (see the above picture) while I went and grabbed the shoes.   Images of feet washing flashed through my mind I unlaced his old shoes and revealed his dry and cracked sockless feet.  Praise the Lord the shoes were a perfect fit.   Señor Juan was so excited and proud to feel his new shoes and try them out as we walked to the Comedor.

Would I be willing to sacrifice and work a whole day, just to do enough work so that both Señor Juan and I could get a full day's wage?   How could I say no?   From an economic perspective, is it fair or just... no.  Jesus' teachings on divine economics doesn't make sense from any business or economic stand point.   Their utility is questionable for both capitalism and socialism.   But for the Kingdom of God, for sake of the virtues of generosity, love of neighbor, and mercy, they are beyond reproach.  Governments, social structures, economic systems perhaps can lead to a just and fair society, but they cannot, in themselves, change the heart, nor make a person generous or virtuous.   This is the realm of conversion and morals.   When I encounter another person, am I open to hearing their story?  Am I willing to let the reality of that person change who I am, my outlook on life and the world, the decisions that I make, and increase my capacity to love?  

The Kingdom of God is neither fair nor just.   I don't deserve it.   I can't earn it.   In fact in my brokenness and weaknesses, I fall drastically short of God's love.   But that is exactly the point... the love of God is a gift.  His mercy... a gift.   I just have to acknowledge how much I need it and accept it.   And His love and mercy invites me to change my life so I can increase my capacity to receive more.   The wages given to the workers that only labored for one hour received a gift that they didn't earn either.   They only needed to accept it.

As Christians, we are called to be like Christ, we must then also ask the question, how can I be more generous and merciful?   How can I be more like Christ?   Who are the undesirables, the useless ones.  They are the ones that no one sought to hire, the unseen and forgotten.   Spiritually speaking, who are the ones bound to a wheelchair with some calamity... maybe an addiction, or a mental illness.  Maybe a former convict that has served his time and despite his desire and ability to now be a meaningful member of society, is scarred by an unjust reputation and stigma.  Maybe a person that was a religious, racial, or social outcast.   But I know this, Jesus would seek them out and hire them even for just the last hour of the day.   What if Jesus desires to seek them out and hire them through me?  Through you?

 

Facing Challenges... Languages, Ropes, and the Future

(See below to see how Aron did!)

Language barriers.  They are a real thing.  But how badly do we need language school really?  It has been decades since my first epic language mistake on that mission trip in college.  After mixing up a couple of similar sounding words and topping it off with a false cognate for the win it can’t get much worse, right?  (If you haven’t heard that story yet ask my father-in-law, he loves telling it.)  We have been calling General Cepeda home now for a while, and due to a couple of new babies born in to team General Cepeda we are finally getting to spend a couple of weeks in language school.  Most new missionaries hit language school right out of the gate before arriving at their post, but that wasn’t the plan the Lord had for us.   We spent three weeks here in November, one month in February, and have logged another 3 and an half months here since Rebekah was born.  After a grand total of easily 5 months immersed in the land of sombreros and fiestas, how badly do we really need language school?

When we first got here, I remember feeling completely lost.  Without realizing it I developed a habit of using the two phrases that came the most easily, “Si” and “Muy Bien.”   Too often I would use those phrases to express that I understood, not that I agreed.  I have seen it in the states in the past, picture a sweet oriental man clearly not understanding a word you say but smiling and nodding as you speak, “Yes, Yes, very good”.  That. Is.  Me.  I say it because I agree, or because I understand and I am excited about it, or because I have no idea what is being said and I just want to keep the “conversation” moving along.

There have been more than a few linguistic train wrecks here.  I will just share a few of them.   In February when I went to the bakery to get bread for a dinner we were having with two other missionary families.  The bread wasn’t ready when I got there, and Elijah, Naomi and I hung out at the bakery for over 45 minutes waiting with another woman and her little boy.  The whole time I wasn’t sure if the bread was actually still baking, or if we were just being exceptionally social and would leave without bread.  The baker, Sarita, explained what was happening but I just had no idea what she said.  Amazingly, we did eventually get bread.   It took so long that as I left the bakery I met up with Josh along with the husbands from the other two families.  The three of them were walking like they were on a serious mission.  Ends up the got worried and had come to save us.

There was another time I went to the market, and while I was there I was supposed to buy new garrafones of water.  I rehearsed in my head while I waited in line “Seis garrafones de agua, por favor,” and “los retornables est en el trucko”.   So when I got to the register I was able to communicate I wanted 6 garrafones.  But she asked a question, it could have been as simple as “do you need help carrying them to the car?” but I couldn’t understand.  And she tried a few times but couldn’t communicate the question.  We were both laughing, both confused, and I left the store without buying water.

Both those things happened early in our adventures here.  I had someone recently say to me “You have been there a few months, you are pretty much fluent by now…right?”  Mmmmhmmm….

Just a couple of weeks ago I needed to buy some screws and nails from the hardware store for a toddler sized bed I was making.  I want to Javier’s on the corner and with the help of Google translate I was going to get what I needed. (Any vocabulary outside of normal ministry stuff is completely lost on me)  How hard could it be…right?  Here is a loose translation of our conversation….

Me:  Hello Javier, how are you?

Javier: Very good, thanks be to God.  [He had an amused smile on his face, he must have been remembering the time I went in trying to ask for sand bags…]

Me:  Do you have some screws?

Javier: Yes, [and a question with a bunch of words I didn’t understand]

Me:  I need screws, for wood.

Javier:  Yes [more questions I still don’t understand, slightly louder]

Me:  I have wood, I need some screws.  For wood.  [Also unintentionally louder, because that helps.]

Javier:  Yes [insert more words, and some had motions that show he is wondering how what size]

Me:  Oh, yes!  This.  [Motioning to the length]

Javier:  Good.  One moment.  [he goes and gets one]  This?  How many?

Me:  [Thrilled I understand, I throw out a number.  Not really a thought out number.  I didn’t actually count how many I needed ahead of time, I assumed I would just buy a package.  And I am horrible at numbers in Spanish when I am on the spot.  So I threw out a number.  He came back with what looked like enough for the job, so feeling foolishly victorious I moved on to my next request.  I consult Google translate]  Can I have some nails too please?

Javier: [Repeats the word I used, looks at me confused]

Me:  [Reconsult Google translate, realize I used the word for fingernail, not construction nails.  I correct myself.] Nails.  For hammers.  For wood.

Javier:  [Laughing at this point, grabs a handful of nails, throws them in the bag]

In retrospect, that conversation could have gone so much worse.  So maybe language school is still a good idea, right? 

Those humbling experiences aside, there have been many other times when (by the grace of God) I have actually been able to communicate.  One time in particular that stands out to me was when a woman named Laticia came to the house to join us for prayer and adoration.  When she was finished with her personal prayer and was getting ready to leave I stopped her to talk with her a bit and pray with her.  Somehow, we were able to have a 20-minute conversation.  I was able to understand her prayer intentions, and I was able to minister to her in Spanish as easily as I would have in English.  I can only chalk those experiences up to the Holy Spirit.  

I know that as long as we are doing our best the Lord will fill in what we are lacking in language where He needs.  But outside of those instances He keeps me humble.  So yes, we need language school now more than ever.  I am ready to not sound like a two year old when I speak.  (But I imagine the rest of General Cepeda will still get plenty of comic relief at my expense.)

On a side note, we had our family retreat over the weekend.  It was such a blessed weekend.  At the last minute the Lord gave us a house in San Antonio to spend the weekend in through a friend’s friend’s mom’s friend’s mother-in-law.  (I am not exaggerating, that was the connection.)  It was more beautiful and perfect than we could have even imagined.  I had to laugh, due to well water and a septic system we still couldn’t drink the water or flush the toilet paper even though we were in the States.  We felt perfectly at home!  Seriously, the fact that a family that had never met us was willing to allow us to use their family’s getaway house for the weekend was such an immense blessing!  The house had enough beds for all of us, and it back up to the Guadeloupe River.  It was absolutely incredible.  The kids loved swimming in the river and they spent hours in the kayaks.  We were able to really enjoy each other as a family, and the Lord was able to speak loudly and clearly on the next steps He has planned.  We will share more details on the retreat later.  There is still more for us to pray through.   Please continue to pray for us.   Thank you all so much for your prayers!!!  

Rebekah chillin' in a hammock

Elijah's first day of his online class!

What a year can do

This week has me feeling extremely nostalgic.  It was one year ago when we packed up the red suburban and left Buffalo, NY on our journey south.  It is crazy how one year can feel like just yesterday and at the same time a lifetime ago.  I want to just share with you what I see when I look at the past year.

Sending off party with family and friends in WNY.

The first thing that comes to mind is it was one year ago that my mom, Darlene, was diagnosed with breast cancer, and this week she finished her final chemo treatment!!!  Thank you so so much for all of your prayers for her!!

Mom with my "twin sister" Vicki.

Of course it was just over a year ago that we realized we had sweet Rebekah on the way, what a beautiful gift from the Lord she is to us!  I am constantly grateful that the Lord knows exactly what will bless us the most, and he gave us this sweet sweet baby.  One year ago I had no idea just how much joy the Lord was preparing in this sweet little package.

A year ago we were excited about missions, knew the Lord was calling us to give of ourselves, we knew it would be difficult, but we knew it would be glorious.  I no longer plan my next step by what I can or cannot do, but I know look to see what the Lord is asking and just keep pushing forward.  I know that if I am exhausted the Lord will give me just enough energy to do his will, if I have to communicate He will give me just enough words, if I have too much on my plate He will give me just enough time (and often a companion to help!!).  A year has taught me a little more how to look at the Lord's strength, not mine.

A year in has shown me the blessing of all of you journeying with us.  I see even more now just how steadfast your friendships are, how you continue to walk with us, pray for us, love us, and support us.  I can't tell you how much my heart aches to spend time with everyone back home.  Your steady love and support despite the miles and with such little communication mans more to me (and the rest of the family) than you will ever know.

On the flip side, this year has shown me how good the Lord is on his promise when he said "everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother...or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much".  Over this past year we have been blessed to get to know so many more people that we will forever love as part of our FMC family.  (And we literally hosted 100+ people total in our home through June and July, He wasn't kidding when He listed the returns in the 100's).

A year has changed the way I pray.  I see my weaknesses and shortcomings more clearly.  I know I don't deserve His mercy, and I certainly am not equipped to be His missionary, but I have Jesus who walks by me step by step.  He could share His love with others in a way that is more efficient, through someone who knows the culture, the language, and the way of life here, but He chose me, he chose my family because that will show his Glory so much more clearly because we are such an unlikely choice for the job.  So when I pray I am clinging to the One who walks with me, who knows the plan and will share it with me one step at a time.  When I pray I am even more honest with the Lord than I was before.  I can share exactly what my struggles are, exactly what is on my heart without reservation.  I learned that with my completely honest prayers (and sometimes tears) He can do so much more work in me and through me than if I came to him with prayers that sound like I feel like they should sound.

A year has changed the way I see people and my surroundings.  I learned to listen closer to people.  Not speaking the language here has changed how I observe what is going on around me.  When I can't understand the words I find I look in to people's eyes more to try and understand them.  I observe more of what and who is nearby.  I pay more attention to the moods of individual people and of the crowds.  I am more aware of who is doing what nearby.  I don't do these things because I am nervous, I do them because I want to learn, to get to know the people here.  I observe because there is so much to understand, and we have only just begun.  I observe because when I am truly looking around the Lord can show me who he wants to reach out to through me, and He can only do that if I can see everyone around me as someone who may need to experience God's love through us.

A year has changed the way I write my to-do lists.  I always write my lists as options, knowing full well the Lord has been given permission to direct my days.  Some days those lists are checked off, but the best days are the ones when the Lord's list for the day looks way different than mine.  Those are the days I am so thankful for this life where the Spirit can blow where He wills and we get swept in to a little part of that plan.

This year has even changed me a little physically.  I have gotten accustomed to living at a high altitude, in the desert, in the heat, where the sun is stronger than I have ever experienced before.  (I am a little nervous for what Buffalo will feel like in December, we are praying that the heated blanket back there still works).  I have walked more miles with the stroller than ever before.  I laugh now whenever I read Romans 10:15 that says "how beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news."  (Saint Paul certainly knew what wearing sandals in a desert climate would do to our feet.  It may have been a tongue-in-cheek kind of statement.)

With all of these experiences over the past year I overwhelmingly thankful.  Thankful for our family and friends.  Thankful for all the miracles we have see the Lord work.  Thankful the Lord is so patient with me as He tries to teach me.  Thankful that we have Heaven to look forward to where we will understand the answers to all the "Whys", where there are no more injustices, where there aren't miles separating us, and those we love are all sharing the same banquet with us.  I am thankful for today and this crazy and amazing journey the Lord has us on, and how much He shows His immense love to us.

Please pray for us this coming week, we will be taking a 3 day family retreat to pray for direction for where the Lord is directing our mission work for this upcoming year.  Know you all are in our prayers constantly!!  Thank you for sharing this journey with us!