On the Streets Where I Lived

Is it really almost mid-January already? I know that time speeds up as we get older, but this year in particular seems to be racing in ridiculously fast motion.

Since New Year’s we have put 1300 miles on our old Suburban, driving to Guatemala and back with our three teens plus one college daughter. This epic road trip brought back many memories of insane border trips we used to make back before we had more permanent visas. This particular trip included an excursion or two down memory lane, as we took our youngest four children to the places where we used to live with the oldest three boys many years ago.

So much has changed over the years. Our old village is now incredibly modern. The roads are paved, people still dress in native garb but can be seen talking and texting on cell phones, and our old little house has been transformed into a 2-story modern house. Now the kids will never believe our wacky tales of life without indoor plumbing and having to hand-wash cloth diapers out in the yard.

Visiting our old language tutors, coworkers, and native missionaries, we were further astonished at how much things have improved for them over the years. The whole trip was a blessing.

Now it is time for back-to-school, back to healthier eating, back to exercise, and back to writing again. After visiting some friends in Chiapas on our way back to Oaxaca, I am adopting some new health gimmicks habits. In case you haven’t figured this out, I am forever on a quest for better nutrition.

Some of the things I have bought into in the past that I still dabble in (look them up on the web for your amusement/education):

• Neti pot - check out some hilarious videos on YouTube making fun of this natural remedy for sinus congestion.

• Kombucha tea -which my kids call “Happy Tea” due to its teensy (less than 1%) alcohol content . One of my longest lasting fads, almost daily fermenting behind the coffee pot; according to the Internet it will cure whatever ails you.

• Sea Salt instead of iodized table salt (okay, so what if it’s pink?).

• Alpiste - canary seed “milk” – supposedly good for high blood pressure.

• Nopal cactus – balances blood sugar levels, etc. Again the kids tease me about this which I am known to throw in my green smoothies along with spinach and fresh fruits.

• Coconut oil which you read about in 2010 when I used it in place of commercial skin care products, resulting in a sun tan.

• Oil pulling - another cheap way to detox the old body and supposedly whiten and clean teeth) – my latest craze.

Last week I brought back a 5-gallon drum of pure coconut oil, thanks to my health guru friends in Chiapas. I can’t wait to see what all I can do now that I don’t have to carefully ration my supply! I also bought a large supply of Himalayan salt.

How about you? Anything new you are dabbling in this New Year? Any new habits you want to develop? How about exercise? Found anything that works for you? What about daily devotions? I now have several free books on my Kindle, but I need to commit to one for 2012.

IRL* It may go fast, but I have a feeling this is going to be another wonderful year.

We All Possess This

Hard as I try to foster an attitude of gratitude by daily or at least weekly recounting all my blessings, somehow I slip into the old habit of taking things for granted until they are gone.

Time, health, and finances are the top three that tend to be overlooked until they are in short supply. Returning from my recent fog of Dengue Fever, I’m particularly aware of the blessing of good health, but this week I want to talk about time.

While each of us can claim varying degrees of youth, beauty, fame, fortune, and anything else Hollywood might deem important, the one blessing we all possess in equal quantity is time. We are guaranteed 24 hours in each day.

Whenever we run out of time, it just reveals that we are either overly ambitious, or else maybe we are slow learners, still struggling over the basics of life on the field. The trouble is that we continue filling our calendars and daily agendas to the max, forgetting that we are powerless to accomplish anything apart from the grace of God. We are dismayed and actually surprised when the unexpected happens (the electricity goes off, people stop by needing a meal, a child gets sick), and we finish none of the tasks we set out to do. List-checkers are particularly annoyed when their day doesn't play out according to the plan. Am I right?

As the years go by, if we don't go crazy first, we learn the art of sculpting our plans in Jello instead of concrete. Even still it is a struggle. Ideally I start each day in prayer, asking God to take my time and use it for His glory. When I do this, I never have that frantic feeling that time is too short. Then and only then can I view interruptions in proper perspective. People are the reason we are here. When people start becoming intrusions, I know something is wrong. It proves I'm holding my to-do list too possessively. Again.

It's ironic that I had this particular post outlined in my mind, but every time I tried to type it up, someone else was on the computer. My whole Monday was one thwarted plan after another. I wish I could say I handled it gracefully because the day belonged to God, not me. Instead I was a snarky mom all day, griping about how behind we are with school, and how I wanted to finish this post and check it off my list. Normally I love writing, but this week I was too busy fretting over lost time to ever write about time.

Two weeks ago, my daughter, Debbie, was sick for two days, and we got behind in school. Last week we lost two days due to the ministry team being here. This week is a four-day week because of Independence Day on Friday. In three weeks, we have slipped a whole week behind in our school work. With my other children, I would have pushed them to make it up, and somehow we would catch up. With Debbie, it is impossible. She has Apraxia and some language-related learning disabilities that cause her to work double or triple hard on a daily basis. Speeding up the learning process is just not an option. Apparently God has another solution. I just need to give our time to Him, not just every school year, but every week, every day, every hour.

Having a daughter who struggles with speech, reading, and anything language-related (which is just about every academic subject) should teach me patience. If only I could let go of my lesson plans when they don't work out.

On a positive note, I am no longer teaching the ladies Bible study at the local church. On a not-so-positive note, I filled the time I "found" by agreeing to teach an elective at the Christian school, where my son Jonny attends. I gave up a one-day class in town, and committed to a two-day class in the city. Does anyone else see a problem here?

IRL* I just need to give my time to Him, not just every school year, but every week, every day, every hour.

I'm Grateful

First of all, thanks to Debbie Peck for the fun recipes and resources for Thanksgiving. What a fun encouragement that was. I’m assuming all of us are receiving the WOTH onlineMagazine and the subsequent email from the Editor, “In Between the Lines,” in which it appears. If not, click here.
Now to balance my more negative posts about head lice, car-sickness, and things we don’t take for granted, I want to give some serious thought to the many benefits of living exactly where we do. Your list will not necessarily look like mine, but I offer these to inspire your own. Please add yours in the comment section.

Here is a partial list I made for Thanksgiving (in random order).
I love the simplicity of life here. No junk mail, no telemarketers, and in fact, few phone calls in general. I enjoy the quality and quantity of family time without so many outside distractions. No sports practices or youth events requiring me to be a chauffeur. Cheap reliable public transportation means the kids can get around independently, even to school in the city three times a week.

Living close to our friends means even the youngest can walk back and forth to each other’s houses during daylight. After some upheaval earlier in the year, I am extremely thankful for no further incidents in our town, and that our kids are safe in their comings and goings.

One thing that remains on my list every year is my house. Being settled in my own home for almost 17 years is a tremendous blessing. I love that it is climate- controlled simply by opening and closing windows and drapes. Being adobe, it maintains the warmth or coolness without air-conditioning or heating.

Of course a huge bonus of living where we do is that it provides a meaningful purpose in life. The ministry opportunities alone are a tremendous blessing that short-term teams only glimpse. Even with the challenges and difficulties, we receive intangible benefits. Does that sound weird to say I am thankful for the very problems that cause me to grow more like Jesus?

After that horrible bout with E-coli, I am thankful for good health, which I do not take for granted. I am thankful to see the scales finally inching their way down after ten years of gradually going up. I’m thankful for affordable fresh fruits and vegetables available year-round.

As always, I am grateful for my family and friends, and for modern technology that helps us stay in touch. I love my family, and I thank the Lord daily that my children are all walking with the Lord, knowing so many heart-broken mothers who pray for this daily. I love the fact that we all still want to be together, even though we can’t.

And lastly, I adore each and every one of my very odd diverse friends, both near and far away. I’m thankful for my e-maginary friends on the Sonlight forums, and for my new WOTH friends (you!).

IRL*Gratitude is the gift I give to you.

What's Your Favorite American Idol?

Let’s talk about idols, shall we? Living in the land of plenty (California), I find myself daily assaulted by my former favorite American idols. It’s true I am not living under the heavy weight of oppression like in Mexico, where the name of our town in Zapotec means “The Place of the Dead.” I’m enjoying a reprieve from that, but the opposite is equally dangerous.

Here in the shadow of Hollywood, the gods of safety, beauty, health, happiness, wealth, convenience and time management taunt me. No wonder people don’t push and shove to be the first to sign up to be foreign missionaries any more. I totally get it. They simply can’t bear the thought of sacrificing their “right” to have the American dream.

A missionary’s version of “American Idol” would look very different from Hollywood’s. Who would you nominate for the final contestants on your “show”? Which were the last ones to die in your own heart? Which ones cause you to struggle and stumble on the field? Which ones do you still think you have a right to keep?

Safety. Oh how I fussed fearfully over having to take my first-born child, a mere 4-month-old infant, on a dilapidated bus in Mexico during our “Jungle Camp” experience – WITHOUT A CARSEAT! That was only the beginning. Finally safety had to be crucified for the sake of the gospel. Now I snicker at America’s attempt at preventing ANY and EVERY possible accident, and suing someone when they fail.

Beauty. I should have saved that one for last, since honestly it’s not dead yet. Living in the state with the most cosmetic surgeries per capita (just a guess), let me say that a tummy tuck has never been so tempting.

Health. Having just come through a bout of lingering un-wellness, I understand people’s reticence to leave the land of minor emergency clinics and 911 to go where hepatitis, whooping cough (even for the vaccinated), typhoid, malaria, and amebic dysentery are realities, and good medical care might be an MAF flight away. I get it.

Happiness, wealth, convenience, time management. We basically want it all. We just want to be in charge. Being a missionary means putting God back on the throne daily. It means trusting him for finances. It means jiggling the pipes and praying the water fills the tanks and hoping for a shower without muddy tap water. It means inconvenience. It means your time is no longer your own. Most people can’t imagine giving up those idols.

Yes I totally get why the message of missions often falls on deaf ears. Way too many idols to tear down before people will commit to go. My prayer is that I will not succumb to worshiping the blessings instead of the Savior who blesses me with every good and perfect gift.

IRL*smashing the sacred stones.
Reading Exodus 34:12-15 in a whole new light: “Be careful not to make a treaty with those who live in the land where you are going, or they will be a snare among you. Break down their altars, smash their sacred stones and cut down their Asherah poles. Do not worship any other god, for the LORD, whose name is Jealous, is a jealous God. Be careful not to make a treaty with those who live in the land; for when they prostitute themselves to their gods and sacrifice to them, they will invite you and you will eat their sacrifices.”

Dignity Lost

This photo sums up my experience in the past week. First of all, I was recruited to be in a skit at the ladies’ retreat, which involved being transformed into a "princess"—complete with new teeth, nose, glasses, make-up, wig, tiara, fan, and scepter. It was pretty, all right. Pretty awful! Rather humiliating, but funny for the onlookers.

On Friday I suffered another loss of my misplaced dignity when high blood pressure led me to the ER with two tampons shoved up my nostrils. It was not a glamorous sight.

Note to self: next time cut the strings off before rushing to hospital.
The doctors did manage to get my blood pressure down, which possibly explains why I was having trouble sleeping the week before. I think this has been brewing for a while now, and finally came to a crisis. I am truly thankful that the outcome was not worse than it was. I am grateful to be alive!

Now I am pondering the ridiculous reality of my embarrassment to be seen entering a hospital in such a sorry state. Whenever I think I have the old “what will people think” mindset conquered, somehow it sneaks back up. Deep down I had been patting myself on the back for my behavior at the ladies’ retreat— allowing myself to get thrown into the pool fully clothed, being seen in a bathing suit orchestrating synchronized swimming, becoming hideous (see photo, again) in the Princess skit. I’m not sure which was worse, but I know none was particularly attractive. I totally swallowed my pride, all for a few laughs.

Yet in spite of it all, I’d rather look good than bad, not necessarily for God’s glory, but for my own. That’s what stinks. You’d think fifty years would be enough to overcome such silliness. I hereby confess this, and pray that I need no further lessons in humiliation to conquer my pride.

Oh, did I mention that almost all of the retreat attendees and speakers have come down with a bad dose of E. coli infection? Now there’s an unladylike illness if ever there was one. ‘Nuff said. (Intestines gurgling.)

IRL*still struggling to die to self!