In Tune

If you are tone deaf then you probably don’t mind when an instrument is played out of tune or when a person sings and just can’t seem to hit the right note.  I’m no musician, but I live with a talented one, and I’ve become accustomed to beautiful music - so much so that now I cringe when music isn’t what it should be.   It wasn’t always this way for me; although I could identify an off-note, I hadn’t been around greatness enough to care.  But now that I’ve been listening to my wife play and sing for more than 13 years, and more than that, now I'm watching her lead people into the very presence of God, combining her musicality with her spiritual gifting; I dare say music and worship are forever changed for me.  

Both of us grew up in Christian homes, and our parents taught us so much about God and the things of God.  We grew up praying in our families and with people from church.  Our churches had prayer meetings.  But with all this richness, we somehow missed it.  Although we knew they were important, we saw prayer meetings as the most boring events at church.  Many in the church must have felt the same way because it was usually the least attended event in the church calendar.  Many times the whole meeting was changed into a teaching service with little time actually dedicated to prayer.   We grew up knowing prayer was important, and we valued it and practiced it, but we never really stopped to consider if we really knew how to pray or not.

That changed for us when we visited a church in Tallahassee, FL in October of 2010.  We were in one of the hardest times in our lives.  It had been a rough couple years.  I had begun experiencing panic attacks on almost a daily basis; we had no job; we were needing to move out of where we were living; we had just been told our opportunity to serve overseas with the C&MA was postponed indefinitely.  Our recent past, present, and near future were all a mess.  We still were invited to come to Tallahassee and spend a weekend, and we had no idea what we were going to share.  So we pretty much opened up and shared with the church what we were going through.  I’m sure it was pretty raw, and we didn’t know how the people would respond.  

That’s when it happened.  As I finished that opening meeting, the pastor called some people to pray for us.  I knew we needed prayer and didn’t blame the pastor for praying for these troubled people.  But as they began to pray, both Timbrel and I heard prayer like we’d never heard before.  It was beautiful music that was in tune.  Maybe we had heard others pray like that before in our lives, but this was the first time our ears caught it.  Something was beautiful about the way they prayed for us.  It was with authority, yet was so tender.  It was honest and genuine. That whole weekend, that church wrapped their arms around us in love, encouraged us in prayer, believed in God’s plan for us, blessed us financially, and gave us a plan for learning how to be in tune with God.  We quickly saw that we weren’t there to bless the church or have a missions emphasis weekend.  God had other plans, and we accepted and received the gift He had for us.

That weekend opened up a door for us, and we began to encounter and enjoy God's presence like never before.  We were drawn to this good music, and we wanted to more of it; we wanted to learn it.  Our hearts were drawn to be around the talented musicians who had been around Greatness.  We took the advice of that pastor and jumped in.  Our prayer life changed dramatically as we grasped our identity and began to live in it.  We were set free from so many strongholds. We hung around a lot of “good musicians,” and the secret we're learning is that they, like us, are part of the symphony, but it's the Conductor - He’s the one we really want to be around. The Conductor has welcomed us into His studio, and we are learning first hand from Greatness Himself.

The journey at times has been painful, but we leaned in and began to embrace what God started revealing.  We learned quickly that what God reveals He wants to heal.  He has opened up wound after wound, cleaned them, and applied healing oil to them.  As long as our response was “yes” to Him, we have truly learned that He is gentle and faithful with our vulnerability and honesty.  He is taking us places, and we are walking with Him in faith journeys, both personally and with others, we never would have imagined.  We have learned what Isaiah learned: He doesn’t break a bruised reed, but cares for it as the Master Physician, and makes it strong once again.  He is for us. He is making us whole. He knows what it looks like for us to be in tune with Him - holy as He is holy - doing what we were created to do, joining in the song of heaven and watching His kingdom spread in our surroundings, starting in our own house. 

"Worthy are you, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, 
for you created all things, and by your will they existed and were created."
-Revelation 4:11

Housework: Mundane or Meaningful?

Palm Sunday's so exciting. Thousands of people paving the way - adrenaline pumping, branches waving, anticipation rising.

Then it came time for the Passover meal. Think Thanksgiving Day when it comes to the scale of preparation required, only add specific and vigorous cleaning requirements along with the food and spices that took days to prepare.

Jesus had no house. His disciples apparently had no landing place either. I would have been stressing about where to eat Passover dinner at least six months ahead of this moment, but the disciples were clearly so caught up in each thrilling moment with Jesus that they it has only just occurred to them that they had no place to go for this major holiday - just now as Jesus says to Peter and John "Go and prepare the Passover for us, that we may eat it" (Luke 22:8).

The disciples had lived moment to moment with Jesus for three years, seeing food appear from nowhere and miracles surge out of messes. Now it's on them to pop out a Passover??

Hence the obvious question "where will you have us prepare it?" (along with the certain thought...where do we get the million and one things required to make this meal?!?)

Someone had prepared "a large upper room, furnished" (Luke 22:12). Someone, in the midst of all the hype of Passover week, had prepared the environment where Jesus would establish the covenant of the new Kingdom, including the establishment of communion. This person had worked for days but somehow had no guests lined up to eat there?

We have no way to know the details as to how and why, but we do know that Jesus was very aware of the preparations going on around Him. Judas was in the midst of his own devastating preparations as the unnamed person paved the way in the Upper Room for the Passover meal. Jesus was aware of it all, and it was all part of the plan.

Application: I now have a new "why" for doing housework and food prep.

As I processed these concepts, taught by my friend Paige Kolb with SureFire Prayer, something happened for which I'm pretty sure my husband will be thankful for the rest of our life together. God transformed housework (and other "trivial" things) from mundane to meaningful.

My house belongs to God. I've always believed this. I've always known that my job, together with my husband, is to take care of it, just as it is my job to take care of my body, etc etc. But housework (and also me getting exercise - how many other things could we name???) so often turned into a tension-producer. How do I juggle the busyness of it with the desire to spend time with the kids, with my husband, with God, etc?

Here's the new "why":

Cleaning my house, making food, working out and ______ (insert pretty much any seemingly trivial but necessary job here) all pave the way for God's best plans for me and my family and whoever else He brings in my door. Just as the preparer of the Upper Room had no idea what would play out after his hours of preparation, I have no idea what God will bring about in my house, in my body, etc. I want EVERYTHING He has for me. I want to be aware of what He is doing and constantly on the look-out for His gifts in each moment.

This new "why" has helped me even in the messes. For example, one day I spent all day cleaning the house, making food, inspiring children to clean (um, maybe),  and then what played out that night wasn't exactly what I had expected. But BECAUSE I had prepared all day with the right "why," disappointment gave way to the awareness to ask God what He had for me and for us in that moment and receive it instead of being frustrated with how things played out.

Peter and John were led to the Upper Room by a man carrying a pitcher of water. A man. Carrying water in that culture was women's work. How many times have I felt like what I was doing was maybe not as significant as what I knew I "could" have been doing in that moment? This guy served in the way that was required for that day, and became part of perhaps the most famous meal in history.

Sometimes all I want to do is be the front-runner in a Palm Sunday level worship fest, but instead I find myself carrying water - or maybe the other way around! Either way, in each of these moments I have the opportunity to participate in what God is doing.

Thanks, Paige, for teaching me that "preparation" comes before "manifestation." My house says thanks as well:)

Messes make way for Miracles: Learning how to fight well in the struggles of parenting

Conflict Resolution - do you know your style? Do you know your child's?

Under stress (and we've had a bit of it lately), my tendency is to become a teddy bear. "[Teddy bears] will accept blame just to bring peace to angry situations. The struggle of this style is that a teddy bear may be taken advantage of, becoming a doormat. They can enable others by not allowing them to face and wrestle with conflict" (www.brentobannon.com). 

So now you know my greatest struggle in parenting - knowing how to enter into conflict with my children in a spirit of love, fighting in the right way, holding the gates of peace and righteousness open around them. 

One of the statements I wrote down at SureFire Prayer's Activate Training was this:

"The struggle - it's about how you view it.

Messes make way for miracles; family life is messy."

Our journey in emotional healing has taught us that trauma plows up the soil of our hearts to receive the seeds of deeply-rooted beliefs. Will the belief be truth from the heart of God? Truth expressed in His Word? Or will the belief be deception from the enemy, carefully disguised as truth that can be subconsciously absorbed by our hearts in moments of pain. These seeds of deception grow into strongholds - lies that, left intact, will impact us for the rest of our lives.

For most people, conflict is traumatic. Conflict stirs up emotions. Conflict is messy. Situations of conflict and stress will be the situations where my children learn from me the most - not necessarily by hearing the words coming out of my mouth, but by observing the state of my heart. My kids are especially good at seeing straight to my heart. 

All of us parents, teachers, and anyone who pours themselves into children like to visualize beautiful moments of peacefully imparting wisdom and truth into rapt and receptive minds. These moments, when they happen, are cherished memories. But perhaps not the ones that will stick with my kids the most. 

I've been struck lately by two biblical characters who didn't always jump at conflict, but knew when to dig in and hang on: Jacob and David

Jacob didn't often fight fair. He ran from his angry brother Esau and from his frustrated father-in-law. But when he found himself in an all-out physical battle with what he recognized as a messenger from God, he refused to let go until that messenger blessed him (Genesis 32). 

David was not a hothead. He waited for God time after time to lead him into conflict. But when he heard Goliath defy his God, he refused to retreat in dismay like everyone else. Instead he demonstrated God's righteous anger and went after the giant (1 Samuel 17).

When I brush conflict under the rug, or snatch control in the conflict, taking charge of cleaning up the mess myself, I do myself and my family a great disservice. God wants to use each emotionally charged moment to plant His truth deep into my heart and my children's hearts, often revealing and uprooting a formerly planted lie. 

Fighting well means receiving God's anger. Fighting well means choosing to worship, receiving battle orders in worship and prayer. With his leadership comes insight and deliverance. Fighting well means fighting together with my children against the giants - not fighting against my children. 

"Then David said to the Philistine, 'You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head. And I will give the dead bodies of the host of the Philistines this day to the birds of the air and to the wild beasts of the earth, that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, and that all this assembly may know that the Lord saves not with sword and spear. For the battle is the Lord's, and he will give you into our hand.'" 

1 Samuel 17:45-47

-T

the birthdays

January in Montevideo, love it or hate it.
"Normal" life is at a stand-still. No school, no weekly commitments (at least we can still have our team meetings), high probability of whoever you're trying to connect with being disconnected at the beach.
There's more time to think, to process the past year (Uruguayans are usually more reflective than those of us from the USA), to think and pray about your desires for the year ahead.

For us there's also the matter of 3 birthdays.
This month the birthdays got me. We had a great party, with a super-fun bouncy house (see our new profile pic), cutesy decor, halfway decent food, and (most importantly) a significant smattering of friends. The birthday honorees loved their cakes, and the boy still thinks his birthday IS a lion bouncy house.

But I lost the most important battles. The days leading up to that party were more than a little tense in our house (er, the house we're house-sitting, which we have enjoyed immensely). Somehow birthday parties always end up requiring more hours than I realized, and can't the kids just take care of themselves for a few days while I put in those hours? Apparently that doesn't go so well.

After crashing through that week, and ending up on my face (again), I am ready to embrace what God is showing me to be my mission in 2015:

my role in the battle is to praise Him, engage in spiritual warfare TOGETHER with my family (not against them), and go forward in assignments that are fiercely protected in prayer.

When the enemy sees us walking in unity, he does what he did with the Jews who worked together with Nehemiah to rebuild the wall, he and his forces "plot together to come and fight against [our home] and to cause confusion in it" (Nehemiah 4:8).

"From that day on, half of my servants worked on construction, and half held the spears, shields, bows, and coats of mail...Those who carried burdens were loaded in such a way that each labored on the work with one hand and held his weapon with the other" (Nehemiah 4:16-17).

Sometimes it feels like a "waste" of time to have to spend so much time covering all we do in prayer. We are gradually realizing that it is THE most important thing we do. We know we are in a spiritually dark place, a place where marriages and family have been attacked and left beaten and often destroyed. We have not been immune to these attacks, but we have seen God "turn back [the enemy's] taunt on [his] own head" (Nehemiah 4:4).
 
We have one more birthday this month. Oliver would have been turning 7 on January 21st. God continues to remind me that He is taking care of Oliver, and that He is enabling me to take care of the other 4.

Grieving together has made our marriage stronger. Praising God together always brings us into sweet unity. January 21st will be a day of doing both.

May this year be a year of breakthrough praise!

Lillian FAITH

from Jimbo - 

After hanging up with my parents and looking at the clock, I was getting up from our couch to get Lillian more fever-reducing medicine before putting her to bed.  She had begun a fever the night before, and we were helping her along with Tylenol and Ibuprofen.  Nothing out of the ordinary drill that we are used to with a teething baby.   It was about midnight, and she had fallen asleep on my chest as I was skyping, as we were waiting for Timbrel to get home from reflection group.  

Timbrel had texted me saying she was on her way home.  As I was getting up off the couch, Lillian started shaking, as if she was acting out a dream in her sleep.  I looked closer and the movements were the same and more like spasms.  I began calling her name, trying to wake her up.  She opened her eyes, and then I knew something was wrong.  One eye was looking up and one was looking to the side and up as she shook in spasms.  The only thing I remember praying was, "Lord, help." She was having a seizure.  

She continued convulsing as I called Timbrel, telling her she needed to get home now.  She said she was around the corner.  I left the other three kids and ran downstairs from our 3rd floor apartment.  I got outside, in front of our building, and couldn't see Timbrel.  The convulsions continued as I looked to heaven asking Jesus to intervene.  Our night guard saw what was happening and ran into the road, trying to flag down someone to take me to the hospital.  I told him the other kids were upstairs and that Timbrel was coming.  Just then, I saw Timbrel running up the sidewalk toward me.  I ran to her and told her to take Lillian to the hospital.  There was a car stopped at a stop light, and a guy opened his door and stepped out, asking if he could help us.  I told him to take Timbrel and Lillian to the British Hospital (the best in Montevideo) quickly.  Timbrel climbed into the back seat of the two-door car, and I told her to keep talking to Lillian.  The convulsions continued.  Timbrel and the unknown helper, took our baby girl and disappeared down the lonesome street, speeding toward the hospital.  

I ran back upstairs to find the other three kids huddled at our door, waiting for daddy to come back.  Our friend and colleague, Mark Taube, who had dropped off Timbrel, was on his way up to our apartment as I gathered the diaper bag and a bottle.  I was rattled.  I gathered the three kids and prayed with them before leaving them in good hands. Then I ran downstairs, jumped in our van, and sped to the hospital.

  

On the way, I knew I had to call Timbrel to see what was happening, but I was afraid.  I didn't want to call and hear bad news of an unchanged status, or of something worse.  I called.  When Timbrel answered, I heard a beautiful sound.  The sound was Lillian, crying in the background.  Timbrel said that the seizure had stopped when they were about half-way to the hospital. Still, I raced through the streets, horn blaring, running red-lights cautiously,  getting there as soon as I could.  I pulled up on the sidewalk, in front of the hospital, and left the van with the hazards on.  I offered the hospital guard the keys, in case he wanted it moved.  At that moment, I had to get to my family.  He waved me along and told me where to go.  

I got to their room in the ER just as they were taking blood from Lillian.  Timbrel was holding her down, singing and talking to her.  Lillian was screaming, of course.  The nurses were gathered around and I joined Timbrel in trying to explain what happened.  Our vocabulary was definitely expanded in the course of the night.  They took Lillian's temperature and it was over 39 degrees Celsius.  I had the same reaction as you are probably thinking.  I asked, "Is that high?"  Apparently it is.  

They put a port in Lilly's wrist and gave her some medicine to help with the fever.  Other friends and colleagues, the Beers, showed up; we were very glad to see them.  Through the night, they made sure we understood all that was being said.  The hospital staff ran a series of blood and urine tests and did a chest x-ray.  We sat in the room and waited for the results.  

Lillian was trying desperately to go to sleep, but the fingers that she sucks every time she goes to sleep were wrapped in gauze with a "tabla" preventing her from bothering the port on her wrist.  She waved her wrapped hand around and with her sweet Lilly cry let everyone know that she did not like what was going on with her hand.  

Finally the doctor came back and reported the results.  Everything came back normal, except a high protein in the urine test.  The doctor, who was 6 months pregnant, told us she would feel better if Lillian stayed in the hospital until our pediatrician came the next morning.  They moved us to another room in the ER that was more comfortable.  Stephanie Beers stayed with Timbrel and Lillian, and I went home.  I'm not sure what time it was, but I think it was around 4.  

Mark said the kids had just fallen asleep a little while before that, as they enjoyed a late-night movie.  Mark left and I unwound a little, feeling the exhaustion as I came down off of the adrenaline rush.  Sleep came.

I woke up and heard someone coming into our apartment.  It was around 9.  Bruce Beers had brought Timbrel and Lillian home.  Praise God. Lillian was her normal self, playing with her stuffed bear, very glad to be home.  Timbrel told me that the fever spike was due to a UTI (urinary tract infection) and that Lillian was on antibiotics.  As we sat in the living room, I began to read Revelation 21.  I read the first 8 verses and began to weep.  The emotional trauma of the night before was being released as I read the promises of my God.  

"Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. 2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem,coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. 4 He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”

5 And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Also he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” 6 And he said to me,“It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. 7 The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son. 8 But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.”

Praise God for His very great and precious promises.  

from Timbrel - 

God's lesson for me the past few months has been all about learning how to turn on the enemy the attacks and lies that are thrown against me. I have been learning that great victory is often only possible after walking through a dark valley. Last night in reflection group we talked about Jesus' death and resurrection. All I could think about was how Jesus walked through the darkest, deepest valley, knowing that victory was coming on the other side. He loved us so much that He chose to walk through crud and muck so that He could win victory for us. God has been teaching Jimbo and I that in our relationship, it's the same. To go higher in our relationship together, we have to be willing to walk with each other through dark places, icky places, places that show the residual dankness of our hearts. Only through honestly recognizing pain can we honestly recognize the lies that have allowed that dankness to build up. Then we can give Jesus those dark places, allowing Him, the Truth, to cleanse the lies and help us start over again.

So as I sat in the car with two complete strangers, trusting them to get me to the hospital, I desperately pleaded with Jesus to guard my baby's life - the life He gave her to begin with. It really helped me when I began to visualize Jesus in the car with me, singing and talking to Lillian with me. As the night went on, and I saw the stress on Jimbo to be in a hospital room, again, I asked God, "Did it have to be this valley? You know how hospital rooms affect us. Did it have to be this?" Yes. He has victory waiting for us. We can't see the victory yet, but pray for us as we continue to process all that we felt in these very traumatic moments.

As we prepare for a weekend of celebration (Saturday & Sunday) here in our apartment, we have seen the assault of the enemy very clearly on our family in the last few days.  We ask you to rally around us in prayer.  It is an exciting time, because the enemy is always active when God is about to do something big. We can sense the victory coming, but the valleys are hard. Please cover us in prayer - our marriage, our health, our safety, our connection to His Presence. We are committed to doing whatever it takes to love and serve each other and our kids, and to see His Kingdom come in Uruguay. It is the assignment He has given us; we will not turn back. Will you escort us on this journey, covering us in prayer as we continue to anger the enemy with each new step?

I was pushed back and about to fall,
    but the Lord helped me.
The Lord is my strength and my defense;
    he has become my salvation.

Ps. 118:13-14

Prayer Warriors and the Minivan

Thank God for our prayer warriors and for our minivan.

Before we had the minivan, I would take a bus to and from Madeline's school to pick her up.  That involves walking a few blocks to and from bus stops, which is good exercise.  And really, it is cheaper to just take a bus, which we still do on occasion, to save money on gas.  Earlier this afternoon, I had debated on taking the bus to pick up Madeline, as that would have saved gas and given me a little exercise.  But as I was deciding, the whole family voiced that they wanted to go along as well, and so we took the van.

After getting home, Madeline and I ran up the block to buy some meat for supper.  I had just come inside and sat down when I began a conversation with one of our new prayer warriors who was telling me about a dream from the night before that involved me being violently, physically attacked.  As we were chatting, everything was breaking loose outside.  I looked off our balcony and saw dozens of police cars and motorcycles racing, sirens blazing, in front of our apartment building and around the corner to what appeared to be some horrific crime.  This was something very unusual in our part of Montevideo.  So as our conversation continued, our prayer warrior told me about how she prayed for us after the terrifying dream.

After a couple hours, the headlines were all over the news.  There had been a violent robbery around the block that involved a shoot-out where a police officer was killed and two others were injured. One of the robbers was killed and two others were arrested, with a fourth escaping.  Apparently, it had occurred just as I was walking to and from the meat market.

When I take the bus to get Madeline, we walk a few blocks from the bus stop to our apartment.  Our path often takes us right in front of the post office where the shooting occurred.  As far as I can figure, if we had taken the bus, we could have been walking in front of the location where the shooting took place at about the same time it occurred.  Praise God for the minivan.

When I went and purchased the meat, I went by two banks.  The shooting happened as I was in route.

Why they robbed a post office instead of a bank, I don't know.  Could it be possible that our prayer warrior was warned about an attack planned by the enemy in the dream and the prayers changed the location of the robbery?  If I had gone in the bus, it's very possible that Madeline and I would have been walking in front of the location right as the event happened.

Who knows?  But I am so thankful for God's special warriors who are battling with us thousands of miles away.  I don't think we will know just how much is accomplished through the prayers of our intercessors in the spiritual realm that we never see.  All I know is that without them, we fight defenseless.  Please keep praying and communicating with us what God is telling you in your assignment to pray for us.

If you'd like to see the story of the robbery/shooting, click on the link:
http://www.elpais.com.uy/informacion/delincuente-abatido-durante-violento-tiroteo.html

Good things come to those who wait

Buying a vehicle in Uruguay (or probably in any context where you don't know the system) is an adventure.  We first found out about this van in January.  We had looked at several options and swallowing the price being doubled was getting harder and harder.  Then we found out about an embassy couple leaving this June, selling their used Honda Odyssey.  We were buying some of their household things, and they then told us about their van that they would also be selling.  We looked at it, and it was beautiful, with all the dings and whistles.  After sitting in it and looking at all the cool features, I reluctantly asked the price, thinking it would be way out of our price range.  To my surprise, the price was the same as what we were going to pay for something of far less quality.

Then the question about waiting until June for a vehicle hit us.  Did we really want to take buses and taxies for another 6 months?  We had just finished a year in language study with no wheels and we couldn't wait to get to Uruguay to be mobile again.  We had a few weeks to think about our decision and after looking at the same quality type of vehicles and seeing that they cost from $70,000 and up, the phrase, "good things come to those who wait" came to mind.

So we decided to wait.  We didn't have the money needed yet, anyway, so waiting gave us time for more money to come in.

We were blessed by being able to use vehicles from other international workers for part of the time, at times cramming all 6 of us into these small spaces.  But we persevered.  We even made it through visits from family, although it was a tight squeeze at times.  Once we took 8 people over an hour away and back in this vehicle made for 4, maybe 5.  We are thankful for the use of these vehicles, as we didn't have to take as many taxis and buses.

Then June finally came.  Time to really start jumping into the buying process.  We had to hire an "escribana," or someone who would help us with all the legal papers (a requirement here).  The United States Embassy has a set of rules and a procedure for purchasing a vehicle from their employees.  It became apparent that our escribana wasn't familiar with all the embassy requirements for selling a vehicle, but she got in contact with the embassy contact and the process got on track.

We found out that June 25 would be our signing day, and that we could get tags for the van and take it home on the 26th.  The 25th came.  I went to the embassy at 9:30 to sign the papers and deliver the remainder from our vehicle fund to cover what we still owed.  (We ended up having to pay half out of our savings, which we will be able to have reimbursed when the remainder of the money comes in.)  Everyone was there who needed to be.  When I pulled out the check, the embassy contact person immediately became upset and told me I had the wrong type of check.  I was supposed to get a check against a bank in the USA from a special money changing house.  I had the equivalent to a cashier's check from our bank here.  The check they wanted would cost several hundred dollars, as the cost is based on a percentage of the total, and not a flat rate.  Or I had the option of wiring the money.  Either way, it had to be done that day.  With the embassy family leaving on the 28th, they had to have a buyer for their vehicle. They couldn't wait around.  So I had that day to fix the problem or they would have to sell the van to someone else.

Never have I been so thankful for our national office.  I just wish they opened their switchboard a little earlier. We had to wait until a little before noon to find out if they could even help us or not.  Time was ticking.  Thankfully our field director got through and the national office agreed to wire the money stateside to the seller's account.  But the deal was that the money had to be in the other people's account by midnight or no deal.  No sweat, right? Every wire takes a couple of hours, and this one was done between noon and 1.  All afternoon, we waited.  All evening we waited.  I had assurance that God was going to take care of us and Timbrel's word from God was that He was going to build our faith through this experience.  At 11 we just assumed the sellers had forgotten to contact us and we started the process of going to bed, anticipating all would be ok at the 8:30 signing.  No news is good news, right?

I woke up at 7:15 and a text from around 11:30 the night before said the money still hadn't transferred, but that they would check again in the morning.  I am glad I didn't read that the night before, or I don't think I would have slept very well.  Then another text came with the good news we were waiting for.  They money transferred sometime during the night.  Praise God!

I went for the signing, with that all too familiar feeling of anticipating something to still be wrong.  I met and signed with the embassy people, and then it happened.  They handed me the keys.  The van was ours.  Finally.  After all the waiting and last minute stress-waiting.  I walked out of the embassy with the keys in my pocket and a smile on my face.

We had to go get the tags, which had minor hiccup of us having to return the embassy because of a forgotten signature.  Then we found out we had to pay a tax that was remaining from the previous owner - a tax of $.10 - yes, 10 cents.  We walked 3 blocks, paid the tax, and returned for the tags.

We returned to the embassy again to pick up the van.  I spoke with the sellers one last time and then was able to drive our new van.  I told the sellers that I was going to pull in my garage (er, parking spot in the garage) and just take a nap in the van.

As I drove home, I thought about all the God did in order for us to purchase this vehicle.  I thought about Troy, and the money that came from his death.  Thank you Troy and Sarah.  I thought about all the gifts that have come in from so many different people.  Thank you to so many friends and family.  God's provision is amazing.  I am overwhelmed with thankfulness.

Then we went and picked up Madeline after school.  As I walked out of the school yard with her, she was telling me about her day, totally oblivious to the van sitting right in front of her, not even noticing that I wasn't walking, just standing there trying to get Timbrel's attention to turn on the video camera.  Then we walked to the side of the van and it clicked.  A Madeline smile appeared.  My heart smiled.  We are greatly blessed and very happy that good things come to those who wait.  Waiting is definitely an appropriate word for this van.

Am I really "doing" anything?

I recently gave some advice to a friend from language school who is about to do what we did five months ago - move to a new country and begin to plant (finally) deep roots. When you make as much of an effort to learn a language as we did in Costa Rica, you like to think that your language learning will continue on the same plane once you arrive at your final destination. After my second year of language study, my Spanish level will be double what it was after my first year, right? This was a really exciting thought for us at the end of our year in Costa Rica, where we felt like we had great teachers and learned well.

Enter daily life in Uruguay. When we left Costa Rica, we left behind a maid that kept our house clean, the laundry done, the dishes washed, the beds made, etc.  We left behind an excellent language school and 20 hours a week of instruction. Perhaps most importantly, we left behind the ladies who took care of our kids, speaking a lot of Spanish to them, for 25 hours a week. Did we really think we'd be able to do the work of all of those people? Plus jump into life in Montevideo?? Oh, and we had a baby in Costa Rica, so now the little people outnumber us 2 to 1.

So it didn't take too long for daily life to overwhelm me. And for me to figure out that my interaction in Spanish was going to be drastically lower this year than last year. It's kind of depressing to almost be able to feel your amazing (!?!) Spanish skills seeping away.

When you constantly have the feeling that there are at least four or five things you could be doing, it is freeing to know your first assignment. God has repeatedly confirmed my first assignment here. They are 7, 4, 2, and 9 months old, currently. They like to watch movies, read books, and play Pet Shops (yes, even Micah).  They say cuter things than any other kids in the world. They're high maintenance, yes, but they're also high reward. And I am one part of their world that hasn't changed (well, too much anyway).

Is my Spanish floundering? Perhaps (we do go to tutoring twice a week and have other interaction in Spanish). Are there usually undone dishes and laundry? Yes. Are there always parts (all?) of the house that need to be cleaned? Definitely. Are there things I would love to go do that I just can't do right now? Yes.

Is it worth it?
Yes.

It's worth it to see light in their eyes, joy on their faces, and safety in their sleep. It's worth it to see them learning to adapt to the newness without being overloaded.

Here's the advice I gave my friend from language school:
"Give yourself LOTS of time. You and your family will be under a high stress load (though you won't always feel like it), and it's okay to let your energy go toward surviving (thriving?!?) as a person, a couple, and a family. Keep your language expectations low and your awareness of His presence high and you'll be fine."

Giving that advice helped me look back over the last five months and be renewed in my assignment.
We're here for the long-haul. The language will come. The most important thing I can do is be in His Presence, listening, resting, watching His face, reading His cues, being His Friend.
"You are my friends if you do what I command." - John 15:14

-T

Refreshing

God is good! I have to start there. Every good and perfect gift comes from above.

There have been several times lately that my emotions have wanted to drag me into a self-pity/depression mode, and I hear the enemy's voice telling me how many things I lack or how impossible the circumstances are that we face.  Today I woke up from a short nap (last night was a long night due to staying out late and a teething baby), and I was feeling terrible emotionally.  Everything I was hearing was coming from the pit of Hell, because everything was telling me to be miserable.  

We have a theme for our house, and that theme is "Refreshing."  We have been blessed with some cool things that make our home physically refreshing.  We have a desire for our home to be a place of spiritual refreshing.  I have a goal of treating my family in a refreshing manner.  Today we bought a used sound system from some people who are moving back to North America.  Didn't think much of it, but I hooked it up and was amazed by the sound.  I played a Keith Green album.  His passion for Jesus and his genuineness are evident in his songs.  I worshipped "with" him, as I know he couldn't perform, but only could worship when he played.  God's Spirit ministered to me and brought a spirit of repentance as the tears flowed.  It was a sweet time.  Timbrel walked in and saw the situation and asked, "Who knew that even a sound system would be so refreshing?"  

"Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord." Acts 3:19

Provision - miracle #1

God is a good gift-giver and loves blessing His children.  That's who He is.

We have been a little discouraged at the price of things here in Uruguay.  If you know me, I hate to spend money, and everything we are looking at - from outfitting our house, to buying a vehicle, to going out to lunch - is extremely expensive.  It's almost as if you went to JCPenny and tried outfitting your home from their selection of show room material - and that's the low end stuff.  For some of you, this may not be a problem, but for me, raised on garage sales and, more recently, spoiled with things like Craigslist, it is difficult.  I like getting nice things at a fraction of the cost, which is nearly impossible here.

Sunday morning, I was sitting having a little quiet time with my Jesus, sharing my concerns with Him.  All along, we have known that God would supply us for this assignment He has given us, I was just having a hard time getting my mind to accept what my heart was believing.  I read about how Abram went after Lot when Lot was captured, how Abram recaptured Lot and brought back the goods and people that had been seized, and how the king of Sodom told Abram that Abram could keep all the goods he captured.  Abram responded by making it clear that man would not be receiving the credit for Abram's blessings, but that God would get the credit for providing, and it would be clear that God was responsible.  With that, I rested.  I asked God if there was anything He wanted me to be doing as I waited.  I listened for a few minutes and heard God's voice instructing me to look up the ex-pat community (i.e. English speakers that have moved here from other countries) here in Montevideo.  I looked it up and posted something about our arrival and asked if anyone was selling anything.

I left it at that and went and enjoyed my Kayden's birthday.  Late last night, I returned to the computer and discovered someone had written me about a moving sale from 4:30-6:30.  I had missed it and felt the sting of frustration.  I e-mailed the people and asked if they had anything left over.  This morning I awoke to an e-mail that they had a lot of things left and that I was invited to come take a look.  I called a colleague, and he graciously took me to the other side of town to look at the stuff.  We entered the apartment and began looking around.  Everything was very nice, and the prices I was hearing were good, but expensive.  Two bedroom sets, a fridge, washer/dryer combo, a big flat screen tv, a coffee table, end table, lamps, towels, rugs, paintings, floor scrubber, 5 chairs, desk, leather office chair, coffee grinder, plus a bunch of house decorations.  A bunch of stuff that was all within two years old. The people are wealthy and are selling their apartment and needed everything gone by tomorrow.  I asked them to give me a price for everything.  They went into their office and returned in ten minutes with a price of $3,500 for everything.  My jaw dropped, and I hope it wasn't too obvious.  To buy things separately would have been outrageous.  The fridge itself, new, costs $1,000, the washer/dryer, new, about $900, beds run around $1,000 each, not to mention the set that came with it.  I called Timbrel, and we agreed to the price.

Then the part about moving it all. They live in a high-rise apartment, and the elevators here are tiny. They need it gone by tomorrow (Tuesday), and we are not supposed to sign on our apartment until Thursday.  To move things can be very expensive, and we are going to have to do it twice, since we are moving it into storage (storage location also provided by God) for a few days until our apartment is ready.  We went and spoke with a moving company, (conveniently located right next door to their apartment building) and the price they gave us will move it twice for less than we thought it would take to move it once.  Tomorrow morning at 9:30 the pick-up begins.

God is good, and His word never fails.  His timing is right.  Seek Him, listen, and obey, no matter how hard it is to wait or obey.  Our strength is renewed.  Now we wait for a vehicle and the rest of the things we will need.  On paper, we need more money for both outfit and vehicle funds, but God is not limited to paper, as today proves. Wait, pray, and trust with us.

a synopsis of this moment...

Here's what's on my (perhaps our) mind right now...

1. We are starting to look at houses/apartments in Montevideo via e-mail. This is exciting but scary at the same time. The main concern we have is safety for our very busy little boy. We also want to be able to enjoy having people over to our house/apartment.

2. We take our final tests in Spanish in just a few weeks. We are so ready to really use well all that we have learned. We ready to be done with classes and at the same time trying to drink in all the instruction that we can while we still have our wonderful teachers here to help us.

3. We are bracing for the impact of another international move on our family. We can already see our kids, as young as they are, feeling the stress of the change. Change is almost never easy. In our case it is wonderful - something we have looked forward to for so long - but it is change, and change is hard.

4. We are dreading the packing that is going to have to happen in the next few weeks. Tonight I packed for a 2 night trip (our first with 6 people), and that was hard enough.

5. We are thankful for all that we have learned this year that had nothing to do with Spanish. Perhaps another post will come later about this, but for now, to try to sum it up...

We have learned that stressful times do not have to produce a spirit of stress. On the contrary, times of stress are actually gifts to us, calling us to cling to the peace of His Presence.

6. We are very aware of the high cost of a vehicle and everything else we will need to outfit our house/apartment. We are also very aware of the results of the last election and how this might impact giving, both to our support funds and to the individual accounts that will help us buy a car and outfit our house/apartment.

7. We are sure that the assignment hasn't changed. We know that the resources for this assignment are already in existence. Somewhere there are Kingdom workers who have already been supplied with the resources that we need to complete our assignment. We are trusting that those workers are going to walk in obedience, releasing the resources and being blessed and transformed in the process.

8. We want to hear from those who consider themselves part of our team. Your encouragement and exhortation are invaluable, letting us know that we aren't doing this alone.

I wish I could think of a way to close, but the fatigue is getting to me at the moment. Time for bed. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.

a day trip...to the other side of town

This morning we decided to visit the coffee shop that our friends here in San Jose have started. This coffee shop would be about a 20 minute drive in a car. We, of course, do not have a car, and to take a taxi that far would be pretty expensive, so we took (including the trip there and back) 4 buses, 2 taxis, and we walked for about 20 minutes.

We left our house at about 9:45 this morning, walked to the bus stop, waited over 20 minutes for the bus, took the bus to one bus stop downtown, took a taxi from that bus stop to another bus station, then took another bus, which dropped us off about a block from the coffee shop.

Once there, we visited with our friends (this was definitely the best part) while enjoying some awesome coffee and desserts (Micah had fallen asleep on the second bus so he slept through the desserts - shhh, don't tell him), and then we walked down the road a bit to eat lunch at Subway. After lunch we repeated the entire process - bus, taxi, bus, then walk. Fortunately we didn't have to wait long for either bus on the way home because by this time we were all a bit tired. We got home at 3:00 p.m.

Did I mention that we did this with 4 kids ages 6 and under? Yikes! But it was great to get out of the house and go somewhere.

Can you tell that we are excited about getting to Uruguay (in less than 2 months!!) and getting a car???

Because of the incredibly high cost of vehicles in Uruguay, our vehicle fund still needs about $20,000.

We are asking you...
to pray with us for the release of these funds
to consider what part of this assignment God might be giving you
to pray that God would send us just the right vehicle for us after we arrive

To make a donation online to our vehicle fund, click here.

We cannot begin to say just how excited we are to be so close to living in Montevideo, Uruguay. This year has been incredible for so many reasons (future blog post coming).

Thank you for being on assignment with us.

Post-baby Musings...Having a Baby in Costa Rica

Everyone wants to know - what's it like to have a baby in a foreign country?

Really, not much different than having a baby in your own country.

For us, there were several helpful factors:

First, we were blessed to have learned a decent amount of Spanish before the birth, so for the most part we understood whatever people asked or told us. The influence of anesthesia was not helpful for my (Timbrel's) Spanish brain, I must admit, though.

Second, the hospital where Lillian was born is incredibly modern. Except for being noticeably smaller, it felt just like any hospital in the USA. Many staff members speak a decent amount of English, also.

Third, this was our fourth C-section experience, and our fourth time to walk into the wonderful world of caring for a newborn. We knew what to expect, what to do with this tiny bundle of sweetness, etc.

Fourth, some gracious family members came to stay with our other three kids while we were at the hospital. Some friends here in Costa Rica stayed with the younger two kids at our house while our oldest went with the family members to be the first ones to see the baby as she made her way to the nursery. No matter where you are in the world, life is easier with friends and family.

There were a few things that were different, some for the better! During our one night stay after the C-section (that's different!), we SLEPT. For some reason the nurses and other medical professionals don't have to do as many things to you or the baby during the night, so when the baby was asleep (which was most of the time), we were, too.

This hospital allowed us to check into the room where we would be sleeping that night before the C-section happened. It was great to be able to put all of our "stuff" away and not have to find someone to tote it around until two hours after the C-section when I am finally escorted from the recovery room to our actual room.

Not sure if it's Costa Rican custom, or just at this hospital, but our hospital had a lady from a local beauty salon that does the hair and make-up of all the new mommies before they go home - fun.

The biggest difference for Jimbo was walking into an operating room where the operation was already, um, in progress. He has never seen so much of the actual surgery. Fortunately he didn't pass out on us:).


All in all, we had the same difficulties that we normally have - my face itched like crazy for several hours afterwards, I couldn't get close to Micah for several days until the stitches felt safe, there's pain in the adjustment to nursing, and I was TIRED. (Ok, I'm still tired, and so is Jimbo - please keep praying for Micah to sleep well at night.) BUT, this has by far been our best C-section recovery and newborn experience. My body is doing amazingly well (especially after four session of physical therapy to help out my back, which mysteriously fell apart after the C-section), and we are enjoying this baby.

Life with four kids is definitely different than life with three - but that's no surprise. There have been plenty of stressful moments already, but this is an exciting time because it's a time for God to craft more mercy and grace into our parenting as the demands on us increase.

Pray for us, that we would choose to follow our Shepherd onto paths of Rest and Obedience instead of paths of frustration and control, especially in moments, or rather weeks, of fatigue. It is a time of molding, of being soft clay in the Potter's hands, and right now the wheel is flying.

Next week we have the privilege of welcoming my parents to their first outside-the-USA experience! Please stand with us in prayer that my mom will receive her passport before she needs to leave for the airport next Wednesday. On paper things do not look good (red tape...), but our God is the God Who placed the waters where they belong -  putting a passport where it belongs is nothing for Him.

Maybe my next blog post will be about how complicated it is to get Lillian's US passport...
hopefully not.

Redemption: August 31

I'm having a baby in four days.

After walking through the maternity ward at the hospital in downtown San José today, it is starting to feel a bit more real. (Doing 30 minutes of prenatal monitoring while listening to a set of new parents learning how to feed their baby didn't hurt either.)

Emotions (and probably hormones) are flooding me from all directions. I can almost tangibly feel it -  I start to get excited, to feel the joy of this moment, and then something in me tries to put the brakes on the excitement, to hold out on the amazement until I actually see my beautiful baby girl. It is a constant battle to embrace the moment, to feel the joy of anticipation.

What makes it hard to feel joy is that almost-gone-but-still-there nagging feeling of "What if?" What if I am walking into pain? What if there is an unknown, extremely difficult assignment just ahead?

What if what I think (and have every reason to believe) is going to happen doesn't?

Disengaging from emotion is really the only way to keep from feeling the painful what ifs. The problem is, the only way to feel life's joy is to first know life's pain. Shutting myself off from pain also keeps me from experiencing joy.

When God gave us this pregnancy in this time in this place, He continued His work of redemption. We wanted to have a pregnancy of peace - of faith - of resting in Him without a constant struggle with anxiety and fear.

Lillian's name represents who God has told us she would be: our child of peace.

Lillian: means God is my vow
Faith: for us, this name represents peace - peace that is only possible through resting in Him by faith

Today we learned that God is working even more redemption through this pregnancy than we knew. Since our language school classes start next week (don't worry, I'm not starting until October 1, but Jimbo has to start ASAP), and since the sonograms reveal that Lillian is very ready for life outside the womb, my OB agreed to move the C-section date from next Tuesday to this Friday! This is great news.

The redemption factor: this Friday would have been the 28th birthday of my brother, Troy, who died almost three years ago. Troy died on our sister Tamra's birthday - my sister the fifth born. Lillian will be born on Troy's birthday - Lillian is also a fifth born. Both Lillian and Tamra will always have birthdays that include joyfully painful hole - a Troy-sized hole.

Since Troy died in 2009, many of our friends and family have, on his birthday, gone to Krispy Kreme (or other available donut shops) for a Boston cream donut to remember Troy. It looks like this year I will not be finding a donut shop with a Boston cream donut (it was already going to be very interesting to pull this off in San José, Costa Rica, where I'm pretty sure Boston cream donuts do not exist).

So I leave the maintenance of this tradition to you and other family and friends. Maybe you could even eat an extra one for me (and for Jimbo, and for our kids:). As you relish (or just think about) a chocolate-covered, cream-filled donut, will you pray for us? This is an exciting transition, but it's still a transition. We are thankful to have Jimbo's dad and sister here to be extra hands and feet for the next few weeks. Pray for us and for each one of our kids as we enter this new world of being a family of six together while attempting to learn this language called Spanish.

"For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ." 2 Cor 10:4

Song of the Spirit

First a little news flash: We have just over six weeks left until the arrival of baby Lillian.  We have a tentative delivery date of September 4.  That is the first day of classes for our last trimester of schooling here, so Jimbo will be missing the first few days of class.  Timbrel will miss the entire month of September, but will catch up quickly after that, as she will be working one-on-one with a tutor for October, November, and December.  Language learning is going really well for us, and we are excited to be where we are in our learning.  Thank you for your prayers and for financially supporting us through this year.

We're very thankful for the convenience of podcasts, as that is our food and drink during this year of language learning. The year of language learning can be a dry year, spiritually, but we've been watered well through these internet ministries.  We've enjoyed messages from several churches this year and have enjoyed the "community" it provides, even though we are so far away.

Recently, we have been blessed by listening to Pastor Mike Plunket's podcasts.  Mike is the pastor of Risen King Alliance Church in New City, New York.  Our lives have been enriched by the Holy Spirit through listening to Mike preach through the book of Nehemiah.

Before the births of each one of our children, God has ministered to us in a special way, teaching us, preparing us, nurturing us. Last week's sermon, A Better Song to Sing (click on title to listen) has given us a theme for the next few weeks before our lives are both enriched beyond measure and turned upside down at the same time.

What stuck out to us was the point Mike made about the song of our heart.  What is communicated from the music of our hearts is more powerful than the words of our mouth.  This is something the church has struggled with for a long time.  Mike quoted the philosopher Nietzsche: "Christians will have to sing better songs before I shall believe in their redeemer."

We have been given a new song to sing: the Song of the Spirit.  The song of peace, faith, praise, and thanksgiving -- music that is eternal!  In order to truly be the Song of the Spirit, the song has to be real and genuine, in spite of how badly and clumsily the words may come out (a real encouragement for us when we communicate in Spanish!)  That new song takes people who are nothing and makes them valiant!

The problem: the Song we know we should have is often not the song we hear coming out of our hearts (and therefore eventually out of our mouths).  And the harder we try to come up with that Song, the more our "music" degenerates. Worse still, we often don't even recognize that the Song we are communicating is nowhere close to the Song we think we're portraying.

Paul explained it pretty well: "For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate...So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me...For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members." 
Romans 7:15-23

We know that our identity is in the righteousness of Christ. We know that His Spirit lives in us, filling us with the Song of the fruit of the Spirit as we identify with Him, His death, and His resurrection. Because of this, when we find ourselves flat on our faces, with the song of death resonating around us, we can say, with Paul, "It is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me." My identity is in Christ; to identify myself with sin is to claim that I am an "instrument for unrighteousness" (Romans 6). I can repent, be cleansed, be free from condemnation (Romans 8:1)! Even the very process of this is part of the Song. Life in the Spirit is not about perfection; what do I do when I fail in front of others? Often our failures are used for good in spite of ourselves.

We make countless choices everyday about whose instrument we will be in each moment - will I allow Satan to use me as an "instrument for unrighteousness" by listening to the lies that He is constantly feeding me, just as he did with Eve in the garden? Or will I allow the Song of the Spirit to flow through me as I choose to stop and realize the truth in each moment of decision?

Our assignment is to sing this song of the Spirit to people who have never heard.  Will you partner with us, and sing with us the Song of the Spirit wherever your assignment is?  You, along with us, are living in a world that needs to hear the song of Jesus' love, not just religious words, but a song from a life totally dedicated to God.

Redemption: the Saga Continues...

"He has made everything beautiful in its time.  Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end." Ecclesiastes 3:11



Today we had another doctor's appointment.  Twenty four weeks into the pregnancy and baby and mommy are doing fine. Daddy is too, for that matter.  


We wanted God to do something special in this pregnancy.  We wanted a pregnancy redeemed.  With Madeline and Oliver, the pregnancy was "fun."  It was a time of anticipating life and preparing for it, in spite of the aches and pains and antojos (cravings).  


Since we lost Oliver in January, 2008, we've had two full pregnancies.  These two pregnancies, which gave us Kayden and Micah, were not "fun."  There was plenty of nervousness and anxiousness, even apprehension.  So we asked God to redeem our next pregnancy, thinking it would come after we got to Uruguay.


Fast-forward to January, 2012.  We just made an international move, were just beginning to live in a new land, with a new culture, new language, and new life.  God picked this year and this setting to answer our prayer.  This pregnancy was completely unexpected, and, in fact, is happening during what most people call the most stressful year of a family's life.  The year of language study definitely has enough challenges and transitions in itself without a high-risk pregnancy.  


We have to admit, life has been so busy, we have not had a lot of time to think about the pregnancy, except for the occasional doctor visit.  Well, now the pregnancy is forcing itself into awareness.  You could say it's coming into full view.  The Latinos have no problem letting us know how big Timbrel is getting.  It's great in this culture to comment on the size of the pregnant mommy.  The physical discomfort for Timbrel is making it hard to sit in classes or lay down or stand or sit.  A phrase we often tell our teachers and Latino friends is "a Timbrel le duele todo el cuerpo," literally, Timbrel's whole body hurts.  So baby "L" is making herself a topic of discussion, making the pregnancy come to the forefronts of our minds on a more permanent basis.  


So this week, I (Jimbo) have been thinking more about this pregnancy.  The old fears and shadows of anxiety have been poking their heads up on occasion.  I began to think about all that God has done in our lives over the past year and a half through emotional healing in spiritual places.  Why is the anxiety returning?  


Is it a matter of faith, in that I find myself lacking and thus falling into old traps?  Do I just somehow need to have more faith?  Or is it that I do have faith, but have it in something I don't and can't know, a mystery, and thus don't have a box sufficient for my fears?  God I know, but His heaven I don't.  These ponderings over my current situation and over eternity filled my mind.


Then a question came to mind, "If God were to open heaven and show me all that He is preparing for me, would I be afraid of or anxious for anything in this life?"  As I thought about this question and discussed it with Timbrel, a boldness and courage came over me.  There would be nothing to fear.  Life would have nothing in it with any power to rock my world.  There would be no such thing as personal bad news (sad news, yes, but bad news, no.)  Even the most earth-shaking news of impending death could not move me.  Dying would be a sad time to say good-bye, but a joyous time of transition and victory.  Death would have no sting, no hold over me.  The pain would not bring fear, but greater anticipation, for I would soon be entering the rest of God.


Today in the doctor's office we had a sonogram.  The nurse came in and prepared Timbrel and did whatever it is she does.  Then the doctor came in and the nurse shot him an uncertain look.  An all too familiar feeling overwhelmed me.  It was the same feeling when I saw the nurses and doctors look at each other on the cold night of January 20, 2008 before telling us the baby was no longer with us.  That icy feeling came back today and I felt myself wanting to bolt.  I stood up, but there was no place to run.  No place to get away to.  The doctor then proceeded to do the sonogram, and I heard the baby's heart beat and saw her moving around.  I saw a 3-D image, and she even appeared to be smiling at us.  Everything was good and well in her little world.  Nothing was out of the ordinary.  


As I stood there, the question came back into my mind, but it was a little different, "If God were to open heaven and show me all that He is preparing for my children, would I be afraid of anything in this life?"  That boldness and courage came back.  The cowardliness I just felt turned into peace.  Why would I not want my children to be in that wonderful palace, in the physical presence of the King of kings, where there is no fear, no pain, no hurt, and with nothing or no one to ever harm them again.  Would that really be bad news?  That's where Oliver is already, in reality.


I walked out of the doctor's office and waited for Timbrel to pay the bill.  I walked to the elevators and there painted on the entire wall was the verse that started this blogpost: "Todo lo hizo hermoso en su tiempo, y ha puesto eternidad en el corazón del hombre, sin que este alcance a comprender la obra hecha por Dios desde el principio hasta el fin." Eclesiastés 3:11  God really does speak Spanish and He was speaking directly to my heart in this new language.  He has put eternity into my heart.  His ways are mysterious.  From our earthly perspective, He is not safe.  He is redeeming this pregnancy.  There is joy in His presence.  He has made all things beautiful in its time.  SO THAT in the coming ages He might show the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus FOR ALL ETERNITY!!!

Curious George Comes Home

Curious George has been a member of our family for about three years. When we first visited Uruguay, we took George with us and photographed his adventures so that our then almost 3 year old daughter could relate more to our pictures when we returned. At that time we had no idea that George would become the dearly beloved best friend of our second (then only 3 months old) daughter, K.

So for every trip we have taken since K was about 9 months old (and I do mean every TRIP - to the store, to a friend's house, anywhere), for every nap and every bedtime, George (a.k.a. "Georgie") has been there. He wears the love well. His neck doesn't hold itself up anymore. His stuffing has been, er, redistributed. His skin tone has shifted. He has a hole in his right ear - a very significant hole, because K puts her finger into that hole and twists, even in her sleep.

Life in Costa Rica has made it a bit more challenging to keep up with George. We don't have a car, so our options for getting to our destination include: walking (with or without using a stroller), taking a bus, taking a taxi, or a combination of some or all of the above. 2 adults, 3 kids, diaper bag, other random paraphernalia, and...Georgie. Always Georgie. (Fortunately our firstborn, who still cherishes her Raggedy Ann doll, is content to leave Raggedy at home and sleep with her at night. Raggedy still makes all long trips, though:)

Have you ever noticed that when you do something out of your normal routine, it is disturbingly easy to make mistakes? Add one new variable, and the chances of losing or breaking something skyrocket. I'm guessing (hoping) that the chances of mistakes are also much higher when you have small children, and that, maybe in a few years, I will have more sanity and lose fewer things. I can dream, can't I?

Last Sunday morning was part of our normal routine - go to church. But out of our routine at the same time. For some unexplained reason, my stomach was acting up all day last Sunday, so I decided to stay home from church and keep little M with me. There is no nursery, and he is not a fan of sitting still for an hour and a half, so sometimes our Sunday mornings are a little hairy (New Variable #1). Jimbo's parents are visiting us right now (New Variable #2), so when we called the taxi and everyone piled in, there were 5 people in the taxi (which we thought nothing about since our family of 5 uses taxis all the time). But this taxi driver told Jimbo that he could only take 4 people (New Variable #3). But wait, for more $$, he says, he can take 5. So the best plan was to get out of the current taxi (New Variable #4) and walk down the street to find another one. Normally we are very careful to check the taxi to make sure we didn't leave anything behind, but the strangeness of the situation clouded the details.

On they walked, down the street, to a new taxi driver who took them to church with no problems. K didn't go to children's church because she fell asleep in church, and no one remembers seeing George anywhere on the way to church, at church, or on the way home from church. I knew, though, that George wasn't in our house, because I had asked K just before she walked out the door if she was going to take him, and I had seen her pick him up and take him with her.

Jimbo and his parents searched all over the church before they left, just to be sure that George wasn't there. When they came home without him, and found that he was not at home either, our hearts sank. We looked, but we knew we probably wouldn't find him. I called the taxi line, having heard that sometimes the drivers would turn things in. We thought that surely George had been left behind in the first taxi - the one they had to get out of because he didn't want to take 5 people. This meant that the driver was probably not going to be too inclined to help out, even if he did hear the announcement from the taxi line office.

We looked and prayed and called the taxi line, and looked and prayed some more. Jimbo even walked over to the taxi line (where the taxis wait to be called for service) and talked with a very nice "taxista" (driver) who promised to be on the look-out for George and even return him to our house if he found him!

Sunday night Jimbo, his dad, and some friends from school went to a professional Costa Rican soccer game. Jimbo couldn't really enjoy the night because his heart was so heavy. K, meanwhile, was using her budding imagination to explain to her other monkeys that Georgie had taken a taxi to the Monkey Beach (there actually is a beach here that we refer to - because of K - as the "monkey beach").  Later she came up with the idea that we should all take a taxi to the Monkey Beach to look for George.

I don't know if I can explain why the threat of this loss was so devastating for us. Would it have been so hard if we were still living in the United States? I don't know. On Monday night I cried my eyes out, begging God once again to "please bring Georgie home." The thought of my little girl without her best friend just broke my heart. Was it because I know her so well, and I understand how sensitive she is? Or was it because my heart had to once again consider a loss - a matter of grief - a hole left in our hearts as big as our love for K and her love for George. My heart has learned the importance of acknowledging the importance of loss. As I've told my oldest daughter many times, the grief we feel shows us our love for the ones we miss. I think that any parent will agree that it is easier to go through a loss yourself than to watch your child go through that loss.

Whatever the reason, our hearts were broken, and we continued to pray. On Monday night I e-mailed some ladies who pray for K specifically. One of them wrote back, believing with us that George would be found, and encouraging us to seek direction about where he might be. We did, and began to feel more and more that we should call the pastor of our church (his wife tutor's us in Spanish, so we had his cell phone number). On Tuesday afternoon I called, using my "best" Spanish to explain the situation. I could hardly finish my sentence before he said (I'm pretty sure, since he said it in Spanish), "Yes, I have it in my office. There was a monkey running on the roof." (I have yet to hear the complete story about the roof...and there was something about a girl running with George - I think a girl other than K?)

I couldn't believe it!! I was overjoyed! The pastor promised that his wife would return George to our house that afternoon. I ran into the kitchen, crying, to tell Jimbo that George had been found (it's possible that at first our empleada, who only speaks Spanish, thought that I was delivering some bad news:). What a miracle! We have no idea how George came be at church, much less to be found at church. But we are so thankful!

That night, about 9:00, K got her Georgie back (see Facebook for the picture). What a beautiful reunion it was. K knows that Jesus brought her Georgie back to her, and that Jesus loves her and wants to be her very best friend, one that will never leave her or be left behind.