I read Proverbs 24:11-12 this morning. The Spanish made total sense to me, but I needed to look up the English in various translations to make sure I really understood what God is saying. Or maybe thinking I might find a way out of what He is saying?
PROVERBS 24:11
New International Version (©1984)
Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter.
New Living Translation (©2007)
Rescue those who are unjustly sentenced to die; save them as they stagger to their death.
English Standard Version (©2001)
Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter.
(more)
PROVERBS 24:12
New International Version (©1984)
If you say, "But we knew nothing about this," does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay each person according to what he has done?
New Living Translation (©2007)
Don't excuse yourself by saying, "Look, we didn't know." For God understands all hearts, and he sees you. He who guards your soul knows you knew. He will repay all people as their actions deserve.
English Standard Version (©2001)
If you say, “Behold, we did not know this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who keeps watch over your soul know it, and will he not repay man according to his work?
(more)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Eek...
There's no turning back once you know. Duty left undone is sin. God will hold us accountable for what we have done in this life, but also for what we have not done that we knew we should do (James 4:17).
Tony and I know what we need to do, it's too late to plead ignorance. All my doubts, all our doubts and questions, are of no account. I could list them all here, but what's the point? The word of God speaks.
Walking forward...
July 28, 2010
July 26, 2010
Argentina Mission Trip Pictures
Yesterday I saw the first pictures from the Campus Crusade for Christ Argentina Mission Trip posted on FB. We SO very much wanted to go on this year, but just couldn't for financial reasons. Isn't it always about money?
I'm SO excited to share these! Enjoy and BE INSPIRED!
[All photos shared by permission]
I'm SO excited to share these! Enjoy and BE INSPIRED!
[All photos shared by permission]
Valle Calchaquiés, Catamarca Province, NW Argentina
snow in the Andes
one of the students climbing in the Valley
some of the university students from Buenos Aires on the trip
school
painting the school
the real reason they went - ADORABLE!
sharing the Gospel in pictures - before Jesus
after Jesus
helping grown Rita write her name
making a blackboard
Bible lesson and drawing
hanging out
house and the Andes
making bread
bread
Milanesa a la napolitana con arroz - YUM!
central heat and stove
sleeping in the school
it was cold
working with the adults
playing games
NW desert
Population: 5000
Elevation above sea level: 6000 ft
Days of sun per year: 360
July 23, 2010
A Doll and a Coat
The following is a true story that reminds me of a book I read to the kids several years ago, called The Little Match Girl by Hans Christian Andersen.
Change the climate a little, and this story really could be from anywhere in Latin America.
A Doll and a Coat
by Shanie at LivingInPatagonia.com
"The wind hit me like a freight train. People had warned about the ferocious Patagonian winds. They weren’t kidding.
I was on nothing more than a trip to the grocery store but the weather made it seem more like a trek. A gust blew up dirt and dry leaves, throwing it into my face, offering me a natural facial scrubbing. I spit out the remnants.
“Thank goodness for down jackets.” I yelled over the wind, trying to make silly conversation and light of the wintry weather. Jamie’s head was down, his shoulders pushing through the strength of the wind. There was no way that he heard me.
We finally made it to the front of the grocery store. Grasping the cold metal handle, I pulled hard against the blustery wind, trying to open the door. It blew the cold metal door back into me, making it feel as if I was pushing through a steel trap trying to hold me in.
And then I saw them.
Two little girls — maybe 6 and 9 in age — crouched in the lee-side of the door, huddled together trying to keep warm. Their tiny hands were stretched out. Little voices begged for some moneda.
I flashed them a smile. My heart dropped seeing their runny noses and bright red cheeks, colored by the freezing temperatures. The wind smacked the door against me and knocked me into the grocery store.
Try as I might, the look on the two girls faces would not leave my mind. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Cheese. How is any of this important? How can those two girls not be getting hypothermia out there?
I stopped Jamie in his tracks and said that we needed to go to the car. Without anymore explanations he knew what I meant.
We had two boxes of items in our car that just might bring a smile to the girl’s faces.
You see, before leaving the States to live in Argentina, there were two things that we accumulated from loved ones that we had brought with us to our new home.
The first came from my beloved Grandma who had fallen ill from a stroke. An avid collector of dolls, she had acquired or made over 500 that decorated every inch of her house. She and I had decided before Jamie and I left that I would give her much-loved dolls to children in need. The second came from many years skiing in the mountains…extra winter gear.
We went back outside. The girls were still there, huddled next to the entrance taking advantage of the escaping gasps of heat leaking through the entrance doors. Leaning down to their level, I explained to them that I didn’t have any moneda, but I did have something else that I wanted to give them. They both looked at me with both surprise and distrust in their eyes. I am sure that wonderment at this 30-something gringa was crossing their minds.
I motioned for them to stay where they were and that I would be right back. Jamie and I ran to the truck and grabbed a few suitable items, including a brand-new knee-length down jacket with a fur-rimmed hood that had been given to me by my little sister, Melea, and a precious blue-eyed, black-haired doll dressed in a frilly, white-laced dress complete with stockings, gloves and opalescent shoes.
We returned to the girls and offered our gifts. At first the look was questioning. Dismay passed quickly over the face of the older sister. She realized first that these presents of fun and warmth were for them. Her face suddenly lit up with a beaming smile that immediately brought tears to my eyes. She slipped the hip down jacket on. It fit her perfectly.
The little one didn’t care so much for the coat that came with her new baby doll. Her interest was enchanted by her new toy. She cradled the child to her chest, immediately becoming the little mommy to this doll that had an eerie resemblance to her own dark hair and mesmerizing eyes.
The moment plastered itself to my memory. The look of pure happiness was emanating from these two dear children.
How I wish I could give them more…
Change the climate a little, and this story really could be from anywhere in Latin America.
A Doll and a Coat
by Shanie at LivingInPatagonia.com
"The wind hit me like a freight train. People had warned about the ferocious Patagonian winds. They weren’t kidding.
I was on nothing more than a trip to the grocery store but the weather made it seem more like a trek. A gust blew up dirt and dry leaves, throwing it into my face, offering me a natural facial scrubbing. I spit out the remnants.
“Thank goodness for down jackets.” I yelled over the wind, trying to make silly conversation and light of the wintry weather. Jamie’s head was down, his shoulders pushing through the strength of the wind. There was no way that he heard me.
We finally made it to the front of the grocery store. Grasping the cold metal handle, I pulled hard against the blustery wind, trying to open the door. It blew the cold metal door back into me, making it feel as if I was pushing through a steel trap trying to hold me in.
And then I saw them.
Two little girls — maybe 6 and 9 in age — crouched in the lee-side of the door, huddled together trying to keep warm. Their tiny hands were stretched out. Little voices begged for some moneda.
I flashed them a smile. My heart dropped seeing their runny noses and bright red cheeks, colored by the freezing temperatures. The wind smacked the door against me and knocked me into the grocery store.
Try as I might, the look on the two girls faces would not leave my mind. Lettuce. Tomatoes. Cheese. How is any of this important? How can those two girls not be getting hypothermia out there?
I stopped Jamie in his tracks and said that we needed to go to the car. Without anymore explanations he knew what I meant.
We had two boxes of items in our car that just might bring a smile to the girl’s faces.
You see, before leaving the States to live in Argentina, there were two things that we accumulated from loved ones that we had brought with us to our new home.
The first came from my beloved Grandma who had fallen ill from a stroke. An avid collector of dolls, she had acquired or made over 500 that decorated every inch of her house. She and I had decided before Jamie and I left that I would give her much-loved dolls to children in need. The second came from many years skiing in the mountains…extra winter gear.
We went back outside. The girls were still there, huddled next to the entrance taking advantage of the escaping gasps of heat leaking through the entrance doors. Leaning down to their level, I explained to them that I didn’t have any moneda, but I did have something else that I wanted to give them. They both looked at me with both surprise and distrust in their eyes. I am sure that wonderment at this 30-something gringa was crossing their minds.
I motioned for them to stay where they were and that I would be right back. Jamie and I ran to the truck and grabbed a few suitable items, including a brand-new knee-length down jacket with a fur-rimmed hood that had been given to me by my little sister, Melea, and a precious blue-eyed, black-haired doll dressed in a frilly, white-laced dress complete with stockings, gloves and opalescent shoes.
We returned to the girls and offered our gifts. At first the look was questioning. Dismay passed quickly over the face of the older sister. She realized first that these presents of fun and warmth were for them. Her face suddenly lit up with a beaming smile that immediately brought tears to my eyes. She slipped the hip down jacket on. It fit her perfectly.
The little one didn’t care so much for the coat that came with her new baby doll. Her interest was enchanted by her new toy. She cradled the child to her chest, immediately becoming the little mommy to this doll that had an eerie resemblance to her own dark hair and mesmerizing eyes.
The moment plastered itself to my memory. The look of pure happiness was emanating from these two dear children.
How I wish I could give them more…
July 21, 2010
FALL MISSION FUNDRAISER MEAL!
Mark your calendars!
(UPDATE 10/11/10: Postponed until January - indoor location TBA)
(UPDATE 10/11/10: Postponed until January - indoor location TBA)
all-you-can-eat Mission Fundraiser Meal & Fellowship*
***postponed***
12:30pm - dark
our house
*details and address forthcoming via FB and email
All-you-can-eat RICE&BEANS & BEEF EMPANADAS
*(I promise I won't put a 'limit one' sign on the empanadas this time! I had a "it won't be enough" moment last time. Of course, there was:))
~~~If you'd like to help prepare food, donate salad or dessert, or help with parking, let us know :D ~~~
July 20, 2010
July 17, 2010
What IS Headcheese, anyway?
Why I visit Suan Wise Bauer's blog from time to time: I learn things, and her Twitter updates make me laugh. Must be the dry sense of humor.
Today (I really am working) I learned what Headcheese Really Is.
I'm not sure if it is utterly disgusting, or just so downright scrumptous that I want to rasie my own hogs and make some.
Today (I really am working) I learned what Headcheese Really Is.
I'm not sure if it is utterly disgusting, or just so downright scrumptous that I want to rasie my own hogs and make some.
Preschoolers and Middle Ages Read-Alouds
Strange combination, I know.
I've been up since 5am (today is a Saturday - this should be proof enough how dramatically my life has changed since baby), planning our studies for this coming year.
I was searching for read alouds for the Middle Ages, and found this.
It's called Preschoolers and Peace.
Preschoolers and Peace?
Now that's funny.
:)
I've been up since 5am (today is a Saturday - this should be proof enough how dramatically my life has changed since baby), planning our studies for this coming year.
I was searching for read alouds for the Middle Ages, and found this.
It's called Preschoolers and Peace.
Preschoolers and Peace?
Now that's funny.
:)
July 16, 2010
My Missionary Training
A few years ago we lived in a two bedroom apartment in a small apartment building on the main street of a small town. It was a quiet little town, but apparently Main Street had begun to attract a few interesting characters. We had interesting neighbor after interesting neighbor. Half were evicted. Half eventually moved out on their own. I mean, we had problems, but our neighbors really had problems. We wanted to move out of their pretty soon after we moved in. One day we would be able to afford to. Until then, it would be five years of missionary training.
We had all kinds in our building. One woman who moved in across the hall told me her husband had been molesting her daughter for years, so she finally left him. It was unnerving when we began to see him come around to visit her and her other two children.
The family that occupied that apartment before her were the loudest people I have ever had the displeasure to live next to in my entire life. They had 6 adult smokers crammed into a two bedroom apartment. I am sure that this was not code. Six adult smokers put out a lot of smoke. It would seep through the walls and fill the kids' room with, well, the smoke of six smokers. This would go on from September until May, when they finally took the majority of their smoking outside. Otherwise known as loitering. Our kids camped out on the living room floor for 8 months. I tried to make it fun, "Woo-hoo, kids! Let's do a camp-out!". (Fortunately it works when they are young:))
Another woman across the hall was a packrack. Most of the stuff in her apartment and on her balcony was trash. You could not walk in her apartment or on her balcony without walking on trash.
Downstairs there moved in what seemed like a fairly normal woman my age. I'll call her Jane. Then we realized Jane was a pathological liar and addicted to prescription drugs. Which she would forge the prescription for herself.
This is a felony, I learned.
Next to her were two early 30-somethings that lived in an apartment with no windows. When Jane was arrested for the umpteenth time and signed into the mentally unstable wing at the local hospital, they decided to move into Jane's apartment and take over her check book. All that happenned after I found Jane passed out half naked on her bathroom floor in a botched suicide attempt. But that is a story unto itself.
The young man that lived in Jane's apartment before she moved in was a somewhat skitsy and shady character himself. He really just had a lot of problems and didn't seem to know how to get out of them. From what he told me, he just only ever wanted his Dad to notice him. I took him to church with me once. Some girl I have never seen before in my life, and never saw again, came in and sat down next to him. They proceeded to give each other the eye, and then they left together.
Oh, boy, do I have stories.
One time Tony and I were lying in bed at about 11 o'clock one quite summer's eve. The windows were open, and we heard a "pop-pop-pop" outside. It took a minute, but then it registered that it was probably a gunshot. I think Tony called 911, something we had done several times before in these here parts. The next day we found out that the guy next door had gone to a party across the way. An altercation, a gun, and he was arrested. The police later found the gun thrown in the grass nearby. Not a smart guy.
Another time I answered a knock at the door to see a young man standing there, shaking and sweating profusely, with blood on his arm. I recognized him as a friend of several people in the building. I had handed him a tract one night out in the parking lot. He said, "Oh, my mom is always telling me the same thing." I gave one to all the kids that were standing there with him. Anyway, he said he was looking for so-and-so, and had fallen on his bike riding over, and could he have something to for his arm. He was acting funny, like he was under the influence of something. I said sure, locked the door behind me, went to get him a paper towel, unlocked to the door, and handed it to him. The next time I heard about him was in the paper. He was facing 120 years in prison for leading the police on a high speed chase through two counties for something or other. Maybe attempted murder, I don't remember.
Right below us, bless-ed are we, moved in an old, mentally and physically ill man named Bob. We came to call him "Urine Guy". Nice, I know. Real christian, right? Well, he would urinate in a pot and dump it right outside his door. His door was right below our window. Unfortunately for us, when the windows were open and the fan was on, pulling "fresher", cooler air in from the outside (at least that was the idea), it wasn't exactly fresh. The ambulance was always showing up for Bob. He was always calling 911 on himself. The EMTs told us they came over 80 times in one year. They have to come if you dial 911. Everybody knew Bob, he was famous in the (neighbor)hood.
Hospitality was not something we practiced a lot during that time. I couldn't figure out why no one would come over! You go to visit someone because of them, not because they live in a mansion with a pool out back, right? It was shocking to me that not everyone thought this way. And it hurt. It hurt that the fix-it man would come over and say, "How could you live here?". Now, what am I supposed to say to that?
I noticed that the only ones that would come over were usually our Latin friends that weren't phased in the least by these things. Or the family and friends who really cared about us.
I could go on and on and tell you about how we finally moved out of there Praise the Lord, only to move into a bigger apartment in a house with a huge yard and, it turns out - a pole-dancing neighbor. Sigh. It never ends. "Why, oh Lord, are you doing this to me?", I would moan for years. Tony always said, "This is for YOU, Chris."
Thanks, honey.
But it's true. Street smarts is not something you learn living in a comfortable bubble in white suburbia.
I am thankful for those five years we lived in that apartment. The LORD knew exactly what He was doing. I'm so glad He cares about me enough to take the time and care to teach me what I need to know, what He wants me to learn. Because it is for my good. And for others', as well.
There is not one person there at that apartment that did not hear the Gospel from us - some many, many times. Most were open, or at least listened. But some literally kicked the Bible I gave them into the dirt. The fruit is in God's hands. We were just learning what it means to be the message bearers.
Just yesterday little M said out of the blue, "Mommy, I liked our apartment."
"You mean the house, the apartment at the house, with the yard?"
"No, the apartment. You know, our old apartment. I was, like, three when we lived there. I remember it. It was great! I loved it. I mean, we shared a room and everything, but it was so peaceful. And we would go to the park all the time. It was so fun."
:)
We had all kinds in our building. One woman who moved in across the hall told me her husband had been molesting her daughter for years, so she finally left him. It was unnerving when we began to see him come around to visit her and her other two children.
The family that occupied that apartment before her were the loudest people I have ever had the displeasure to live next to in my entire life. They had 6 adult smokers crammed into a two bedroom apartment. I am sure that this was not code. Six adult smokers put out a lot of smoke. It would seep through the walls and fill the kids' room with, well, the smoke of six smokers. This would go on from September until May, when they finally took the majority of their smoking outside. Otherwise known as loitering. Our kids camped out on the living room floor for 8 months. I tried to make it fun, "Woo-hoo, kids! Let's do a camp-out!". (Fortunately it works when they are young:))
Another woman across the hall was a packrack. Most of the stuff in her apartment and on her balcony was trash. You could not walk in her apartment or on her balcony without walking on trash.
Downstairs there moved in what seemed like a fairly normal woman my age. I'll call her Jane. Then we realized Jane was a pathological liar and addicted to prescription drugs. Which she would forge the prescription for herself.
This is a felony, I learned.
Next to her were two early 30-somethings that lived in an apartment with no windows. When Jane was arrested for the umpteenth time and signed into the mentally unstable wing at the local hospital, they decided to move into Jane's apartment and take over her check book. All that happenned after I found Jane passed out half naked on her bathroom floor in a botched suicide attempt. But that is a story unto itself.
The young man that lived in Jane's apartment before she moved in was a somewhat skitsy and shady character himself. He really just had a lot of problems and didn't seem to know how to get out of them. From what he told me, he just only ever wanted his Dad to notice him. I took him to church with me once. Some girl I have never seen before in my life, and never saw again, came in and sat down next to him. They proceeded to give each other the eye, and then they left together.
Oh, boy, do I have stories.
One time Tony and I were lying in bed at about 11 o'clock one quite summer's eve. The windows were open, and we heard a "pop-pop-pop" outside. It took a minute, but then it registered that it was probably a gunshot. I think Tony called 911, something we had done several times before in these here parts. The next day we found out that the guy next door had gone to a party across the way. An altercation, a gun, and he was arrested. The police later found the gun thrown in the grass nearby. Not a smart guy.
Another time I answered a knock at the door to see a young man standing there, shaking and sweating profusely, with blood on his arm. I recognized him as a friend of several people in the building. I had handed him a tract one night out in the parking lot. He said, "Oh, my mom is always telling me the same thing." I gave one to all the kids that were standing there with him. Anyway, he said he was looking for so-and-so, and had fallen on his bike riding over, and could he have something to for his arm. He was acting funny, like he was under the influence of something. I said sure, locked the door behind me, went to get him a paper towel, unlocked to the door, and handed it to him. The next time I heard about him was in the paper. He was facing 120 years in prison for leading the police on a high speed chase through two counties for something or other. Maybe attempted murder, I don't remember.
Right below us, bless-ed are we, moved in an old, mentally and physically ill man named Bob. We came to call him "Urine Guy". Nice, I know. Real christian, right? Well, he would urinate in a pot and dump it right outside his door. His door was right below our window. Unfortunately for us, when the windows were open and the fan was on, pulling "fresher", cooler air in from the outside (at least that was the idea), it wasn't exactly fresh. The ambulance was always showing up for Bob. He was always calling 911 on himself. The EMTs told us they came over 80 times in one year. They have to come if you dial 911. Everybody knew Bob, he was famous in the (neighbor)hood.
Hospitality was not something we practiced a lot during that time. I couldn't figure out why no one would come over! You go to visit someone because of them, not because they live in a mansion with a pool out back, right? It was shocking to me that not everyone thought this way. And it hurt. It hurt that the fix-it man would come over and say, "How could you live here?". Now, what am I supposed to say to that?
I noticed that the only ones that would come over were usually our Latin friends that weren't phased in the least by these things. Or the family and friends who really cared about us.
I could go on and on and tell you about how we finally moved out of there Praise the Lord, only to move into a bigger apartment in a house with a huge yard and, it turns out - a pole-dancing neighbor. Sigh. It never ends. "Why, oh Lord, are you doing this to me?", I would moan for years. Tony always said, "This is for YOU, Chris."
Thanks, honey.
But it's true. Street smarts is not something you learn living in a comfortable bubble in white suburbia.
I am thankful for those five years we lived in that apartment. The LORD knew exactly what He was doing. I'm so glad He cares about me enough to take the time and care to teach me what I need to know, what He wants me to learn. Because it is for my good. And for others', as well.
There is not one person there at that apartment that did not hear the Gospel from us - some many, many times. Most were open, or at least listened. But some literally kicked the Bible I gave them into the dirt. The fruit is in God's hands. We were just learning what it means to be the message bearers.
Just yesterday little M said out of the blue, "Mommy, I liked our apartment."
"You mean the house, the apartment at the house, with the yard?"
"No, the apartment. You know, our old apartment. I was, like, three when we lived there. I remember it. It was great! I loved it. I mean, we shared a room and everything, but it was so peaceful. And we would go to the park all the time. It was so fun."
:)
July 13, 2010
Phrase of the Day
perro que ladra no muerde = all bark, no bite; all talk, no action; (s)he talks a lot but does nothing
Literally "the dog that barks, doesn't bite".
Literally "the dog that barks, doesn't bite".
July 12, 2010
Phrase of the Day
tal palo como la astilla = like father, like son; like mother, like daughter; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree
Literally translated means "as is the stick (or wood) is the splinter".
This phrase can often be heard in our house when one of our kids does something like, say, drop their food, trip over a toy, or forget something really important. Tony can be heard in the background saying, "tal palo como la astilla", as he looks in my direction.
:)
Literally translated means "as is the stick (or wood) is the splinter".
This phrase can often be heard in our house when one of our kids does something like, say, drop their food, trip over a toy, or forget something really important. Tony can be heard in the background saying, "tal palo como la astilla", as he looks in my direction.
:)
July 10, 2010
Do You Love Me?
"Let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works..."
~ Heb. 10:24
two missionary homes amongst an unreached tribe in
the mountains of Papua New Guinea
(click to enlarge and get the full impact, seriously!)
(click to enlarge and get the full impact, seriously!)
This photo impacted me so much I posted in on my Facebook. So I just had to post it here!
It's from my friend's brother's website who in is Papua New Guinea with New Tribes Missions. At this very moment, their family is preparing to enter an unreached tribe with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I am amazed. Just amazed. How many of us Christians would do this for our God?? I don't even know if I would, and I love Jesus and I love missions!
Imagine, no house in the suburbs, no SUV, no A/C, no hot running water, no running water at all... no internet, no TV, no sports for the kiddies, no dishwasher, no stovetop oven, no corner grocery store, no phone, no cell phone, no iPhone, no iTunes, no Playstation (we don't have those latter things, but most Christians these days I know do) ... makes me think of that verse where Jesus asks, "Do you love me?"
Do we love Jesus more? Do we really? Or do we love our comforts - the "blessings" He has so freely given? I wonder this for myself. I really do. I have always thought that if something were to happen to Tony, that I would love to be a Bible translator for Wycliffe. But would I actually do it? Could I? Of course, I don't want anything to ever happen to the light of my life, the light of our family - but if it were, then I would want to dedicate the years that remain to me to reaching others with the knowledge of Jesus. I would want to do something of eternal significance for my LORD. Not just everyday eternal signifcance. But tremendous eternal significance.
Which brings me to something else that has been on my mind for years: raising my kids. I can't begin to recount the times other Christians have brought up child rearing when the topic of missions comes up.
"But your kids are really little."
"But you have young children."
"But the children..."
But... but.. but...
"But you have young children."
"But the children..."
But... but.. but...
But what? I can raise my children anywhere. That will always be my first and foremost ministry, second to taking care of my husband. I can do that anywhere in the world. I just don't understand the hesitancy. I still honestly, from the bottom of my heart, do not know what people mean when they bring up the "but your kids are young" argument.
Do they mean no little League? Maybe you can help me out here. Do they mean no McDonalds? No playdates with other good christian families? No what? I'm still kind of clueless, but I have been known to be way dense. My husband tells me so often.
Do they mean no little League? Maybe you can help me out here. Do they mean no McDonalds? No playdates with other good christian families? No what? I'm still kind of clueless, but I have been known to be way dense. My husband tells me so often.
Well, and then they are old. Graduated from school. And Tony is still working at the same job. And we're left looking at each other. With what to show for all the years of going to church, and sitting in the same seat, and raising our hands in worship, to a God we swear allegiance and our all in all to? The kids are off to college or marriage or ministry or whatever the Lord has for them. And then what?
Off to foreign lands at 60? Or worse, retirement?
No, thanks. I want to die working for the LORD. Spreading the seeds of the Gospel in places that don't have the blessings of having a church on every corner and a dusty Bible on the shelf in every house. I want to burn out on both ends reaching the lost for the One who gave everything to reach me.
"Oh, LORD, here I am! Send me!"
July 9, 2010
Phrase of the Day
I've been convicted, albeit mildly, for years now that I need to study Spanish more. By God's grace I am already fluent, have been for 20 years, but I love to learn and there are still many things I do not know. Especially Spanish sayings, proverbs, slang, and a gazillion referential nuances. You know, the real meat of languages. Besides, my husband and most Argentines use these things ALL THE TIME, and I usually have to ask for a definition because I have no idea what they're talking about.
So, I thought it would be fun to do a Phrase of the Day in Spanish. It will definately not be daily, so don't let the name throw you. I'll probably save it for times when I don't have anything interesting to say, or time to write about much. It'll probably bore you non-Spanish speakers, so sorry in advance. But it really helps me with my writing and spelling in Spanish, and it's fun.
So the first one:
Buenas y malas artes hay en todas partes = there are good and bad people everywhere
Literally "good and bad art are there in all parts".
:)
So, I thought it would be fun to do a Phrase of the Day in Spanish. It will definately not be daily, so don't let the name throw you. I'll probably save it for times when I don't have anything interesting to say, or time to write about much. It'll probably bore you non-Spanish speakers, so sorry in advance. But it really helps me with my writing and spelling in Spanish, and it's fun.
So the first one:
Buenas y malas artes hay en todas partes = there are good and bad people everywhere
Literally "good and bad art are there in all parts".
:)
July 7, 2010
All Noble Things Are Difficult
"...narrow is the way..." Matt. 7:14
Thank God for Oswald Chambers. I don't know what I would do without his little book of devotions. Encouragement comes at just the right time.
I've been struggling a little - not too much, but a little - as we seriously consider moving to Argentina. We are sure God is calling us, it is unmistakeable. He never stops calling. He is relentless.
But we doubt.
We doubt how it would go. We doubt how we could make a living and pay the bills. We (or, at least Tony) doubt that I could handle it (in my mind I am Superwoman :D, but then there is reality). We doubt a million things.
And then I read today's entry in My Utmost:
"Enter ye in at the strait gate . . because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way. . ." Matthew 7:13-14
If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all noble things are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us faint and cave in, it rouses us up to overcome. Do we so appreciate the marvellous salvation of Jesus Christ that we are our utmost for His highest?
God saves men by His sovereign grace through the Atonement of Jesus; He works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure; but we have to work out that salvation in practical living. If once we start on the basis of His Redemption to do what He commands, we find that we can do it. If we fail, it is because we have not practised. The crisis will reveal whether we have been practising or not. If we obey the Spirit of God and practise in our physical life what God has put in us by His Spirit, then when the crisis comes, we shall find that our own nature as well as the grace of God will stand by us.
Thank God He does give us difficult things to do! His salvation is a glad thing, but it is also a heroic, holy thing. It tests us for all we are worth. Jesus is bringing many "sons" unto glory, and God will not shield us from the requirements of a son. God's grace turns out men and women with a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, not milk sops. It takes a tremendous amount of discipline to live the noble life of a disciple of Jesus in actual things. It is always necessary to make an effort to be noble.
The noble thing God is calling us to do is move to Argentina. Moving to Argentina is definately noble. One does not move there looking for a better life, a life of ease. Unless you are wealthy. Which we are not.
Moving there to take the Gospel of Christ to those who have not heard, in the hopes that a few will be saved, is noble. Leaving everything for poverty, struggle, worry, want, need, danger, persecution, loneliness, misunderstanding, and overall difficulty is not what I would chose for myself in this life. My flesh wants to remain in comfort where things are easy. Life is so easy here. And, mind you, we are "poor". But the poor in America are infinitely more well off than the poor in other parts of the world. The poor here are quite wealthy. We live like kings. We really do, and we know it.
But the still small voice is still there, whispering.
Oh, but to follow God...! What a beautiful and glorious thing! I don't want to miss it. I want HIM, more and more and more of Him. I guess I just wish it didn't cost.
Hmm.
It costs.
Thank God for Oswald Chambers. I don't know what I would do without his little book of devotions. Encouragement comes at just the right time.
I've been struggling a little - not too much, but a little - as we seriously consider moving to Argentina. We are sure God is calling us, it is unmistakeable. He never stops calling. He is relentless.
But we doubt.
We doubt how it would go. We doubt how we could make a living and pay the bills. We (or, at least Tony) doubt that I could handle it (in my mind I am Superwoman :D, but then there is reality). We doubt a million things.
And then I read today's entry in My Utmost:
"Enter ye in at the strait gate . . because strait is the gate, and narrow is the way. . ." Matthew 7:13-14
If we are going to live as disciples of Jesus, we have to remember that all noble things are difficult. The Christian life is gloriously difficult, but the difficulty of it does not make us faint and cave in, it rouses us up to overcome. Do we so appreciate the marvellous salvation of Jesus Christ that we are our utmost for His highest?
God saves men by His sovereign grace through the Atonement of Jesus; He works in us to will and to do of His good pleasure; but we have to work out that salvation in practical living. If once we start on the basis of His Redemption to do what He commands, we find that we can do it. If we fail, it is because we have not practised. The crisis will reveal whether we have been practising or not. If we obey the Spirit of God and practise in our physical life what God has put in us by His Spirit, then when the crisis comes, we shall find that our own nature as well as the grace of God will stand by us.
Thank God He does give us difficult things to do! His salvation is a glad thing, but it is also a heroic, holy thing. It tests us for all we are worth. Jesus is bringing many "sons" unto glory, and God will not shield us from the requirements of a son. God's grace turns out men and women with a strong family likeness to Jesus Christ, not milk sops. It takes a tremendous amount of discipline to live the noble life of a disciple of Jesus in actual things. It is always necessary to make an effort to be noble.
The noble thing God is calling us to do is move to Argentina. Moving to Argentina is definately noble. One does not move there looking for a better life, a life of ease. Unless you are wealthy. Which we are not.
Moving there to take the Gospel of Christ to those who have not heard, in the hopes that a few will be saved, is noble. Leaving everything for poverty, struggle, worry, want, need, danger, persecution, loneliness, misunderstanding, and overall difficulty is not what I would chose for myself in this life. My flesh wants to remain in comfort where things are easy. Life is so easy here. And, mind you, we are "poor". But the poor in America are infinitely more well off than the poor in other parts of the world. The poor here are quite wealthy. We live like kings. We really do, and we know it.
But the still small voice is still there, whispering.
Oh, but to follow God...! What a beautiful and glorious thing! I don't want to miss it. I want HIM, more and more and more of Him. I guess I just wish it didn't cost.
Hmm.
It costs.
July 6, 2010
Baked French Toast
This was a HUGE hit with the kids. Even the hubs; he said it reminded him of "Budín de pan" from his childhood in Argentina.
Ingredients:
1 pound sliced bread
8 eggs
3 1/2 cups milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 cup butter*
1 1/3 cups brown sugar*
Directions:
1. Butter a 9x13 inch baking dish. Arrange the slices of bread in the bottom. In a large bowl, beat together eggs, milk, vanilla and cinnamon. Pour over bread slices, cover, and refrigerate overnight (or if you can't get it together the night before like me, just let it sit on the counter for a couple of minutes - it turns out delicious, anyway).
2. The next morning, preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Melt butter and brown sugar. Pour over bread and egg mixture.
3. Bake in preheated oven, uncovered, for 40 minutes.
YUM!
**I cut the butter to about 1/2 C and the brown sugar to 1/2 C also, and it was just perfect.
Not too sweet, and not loaded with fat and calories (or so I told myelf :)).
***You can also throw some nuts on it, like in the gratuitous internet pic up there.
Ingredients:
1 pound sliced bread
8 eggs
3 1/2 cups milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
3/4 cup butter*
1 1/3 cups brown sugar*
Directions:
1. Butter a 9x13 inch baking dish. Arrange the slices of bread in the bottom. In a large bowl, beat together eggs, milk, vanilla and cinnamon. Pour over bread slices, cover, and refrigerate overnight (or if you can't get it together the night before like me, just let it sit on the counter for a couple of minutes - it turns out delicious, anyway).
2. The next morning, preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C). Melt butter and brown sugar. Pour over bread and egg mixture.
3. Bake in preheated oven, uncovered, for 40 minutes.
YUM!
**I cut the butter to about 1/2 C and the brown sugar to 1/2 C also, and it was just perfect.
Not too sweet, and not loaded with fat and calories (or so I told myelf :)).
***You can also throw some nuts on it, like in the gratuitous internet pic up there.
July 2, 2010
Update on the Big Move - July 2010
It's been four months since we started this blog. Thought I'd post another update on how things are unfolding.
BREAKING THE NEWS: My mom still does not know. This is really hard, but I guess the timing is still not quite there. She is still adjusting to being a widow, so we are definately trying to be as sensitive as we can to that. It will be hard, though, whenever we do tell her. Just trusting God. I wanted to bring it up at a recent family get together, and I asked Tony whether he wanted to mention it. He shook his head "no". So, of course, I chickened out. It's hard when you know what obeying God will mean for other people. We are still telling people one on one as it comes up at church and with friends. People who already know are telling other people we know, which helps spread the word. We know too many people to tell them all one at a time.
PROVISION/SUPPORT: I was at our local homeschool conference this month and got a chance to talk to Dave Hazell, founder of My Father's World curriculum, who lived in Russia for 8 years as a missionary. So of course I went up to him after one of his lectures, to pick his missions-minded brain and to ask about their own experience as missionaries. He shared that it's not really "his thing" to ask people for money (yeah, me either), so they just went. They had a small salary from the agency they went with, and he got a part-time job there. Once they got abroad and people began seeing what they were doing, they started giving. Through it all, they scraped and pinched pennies (ruples:)). He encouraged us to not put God in a box, that it doesn't have to look a certain way. If God is calling us, he said, he believes He is big enough to take care of us. His faith encouraged me tremendously, and I was able to encourage Tony with what he shared. Tony could get a job there, for example. We could start a small business. He suggested I could also teach English part-time. (I say no to all three, but that's because I know the economy there. It's the PITS. A peso doesn't go far anymore. A dollar goes four times as far. But, okay... must not box God...). I don't know, I agree with our missionary friends in Ecuador who pointed out that going with a job is not the ideal. You end up doing the same there as you do here, just changing countries. You end up with little time left over to do anything else.
A woman from church called me one morning recently and said she had been thinking about me and wanted to come over and catch up. We had a great talk, and I did the best I could to share what we think God is laying on our hearts, and all He has done to prepare us for it. She was very encouraging, and it helped to talk to her about it all. She, too, mentioned going as tentmakers. When she got up to leave, she pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to me saying, "The LORD told me to give this to you."
Inside was a check. She said she didn't know what "trip" it was for, but that the Lord told her to give it to us. :)
FUNDRAISER/YARDSALE: I'm sure now we need to do a fundraiser meal. I think this FALL we'll do a combined ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT $10/plate-type thing, maybe with a YARD SALE on the side. We have so much stuff we need to get rid of. I don't know how much we will make, but hopefully it will take care of plane tickets for starters. Or enough to ship a container with our stuff (and possibly a car) inside. It's a start. Definately a great way to share with people what God is calling us to do and to get the word out.
PRAYER: Praying A LOT. Praying for faith. We've never had to trust God to this degree before. I mean, really. Praying for wisdom. For specific direction. Even started praying for a place to live there, specifically listing to God all the things we'll "need" there. Even praying for a job for Tony, if that's what the LORD would have. He has done it before, and I know He can do it again. I've learned to not hold back in prayer. He is good to give us all we need.
KIDS: They now know that we are moving to Argentina. They accept it as fact and as their future. Big A is not happy about it, however. Whenever we try to talk about it with him, he almost starts to cry. I guess 10 is a hard age to do this. I can't imagine 12 or 14 then. Please pray for him. We know that God has him in mind, He has all three of our children in mind, in calling us there. The call is just not for us, but for them. This is part of His will for their lives, as well. He has not forgotten about them and his sovereign plan covers them also. They are not an afterthought, and we know that God has amazing things planned for them as well in this. :)
TONY: Tony keeps wanting to write something here, but it just hasn't happenned yet. He's not much of a computer guy. One of these days. He does say that he feels more and more strongly that God wants us there. That God wants us to move "al Sur" - meaning to the south of Argentina. Funny, because I hear the same thing. Loud and clear. My friend who came over (and left the check) said she always saw us working with Spanish people. I remember one Sunday, some 8 years ago, she was praying for me at church as I just wept over how Tony was persecuting me for my faith (he was not yet saved), and she said, "Christine [she calls me Christine, I don't know why], this is preparation for you. One day you will be able to encourage Tony. I just see you working with Spanish people. I don't know if it's here or there. But, yes, I see it. Hang in there."
I'm so glad I did.
:)
BREAKING THE NEWS: My mom still does not know. This is really hard, but I guess the timing is still not quite there. She is still adjusting to being a widow, so we are definately trying to be as sensitive as we can to that. It will be hard, though, whenever we do tell her. Just trusting God. I wanted to bring it up at a recent family get together, and I asked Tony whether he wanted to mention it. He shook his head "no". So, of course, I chickened out. It's hard when you know what obeying God will mean for other people. We are still telling people one on one as it comes up at church and with friends. People who already know are telling other people we know, which helps spread the word. We know too many people to tell them all one at a time.
PROVISION/SUPPORT: I was at our local homeschool conference this month and got a chance to talk to Dave Hazell, founder of My Father's World curriculum, who lived in Russia for 8 years as a missionary. So of course I went up to him after one of his lectures, to pick his missions-minded brain and to ask about their own experience as missionaries. He shared that it's not really "his thing" to ask people for money (yeah, me either), so they just went. They had a small salary from the agency they went with, and he got a part-time job there. Once they got abroad and people began seeing what they were doing, they started giving. Through it all, they scraped and pinched pennies (ruples:)). He encouraged us to not put God in a box, that it doesn't have to look a certain way. If God is calling us, he said, he believes He is big enough to take care of us. His faith encouraged me tremendously, and I was able to encourage Tony with what he shared. Tony could get a job there, for example. We could start a small business. He suggested I could also teach English part-time. (I say no to all three, but that's because I know the economy there. It's the PITS. A peso doesn't go far anymore. A dollar goes four times as far. But, okay... must not box God...). I don't know, I agree with our missionary friends in Ecuador who pointed out that going with a job is not the ideal. You end up doing the same there as you do here, just changing countries. You end up with little time left over to do anything else.
A woman from church called me one morning recently and said she had been thinking about me and wanted to come over and catch up. We had a great talk, and I did the best I could to share what we think God is laying on our hearts, and all He has done to prepare us for it. She was very encouraging, and it helped to talk to her about it all. She, too, mentioned going as tentmakers. When she got up to leave, she pulled an envelope out of her purse and handed it to me saying, "The LORD told me to give this to you."
Inside was a check. She said she didn't know what "trip" it was for, but that the Lord told her to give it to us. :)
FUNDRAISER/YARDSALE: I'm sure now we need to do a fundraiser meal. I think this FALL we'll do a combined ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT $10/plate-type thing, maybe with a YARD SALE on the side. We have so much stuff we need to get rid of. I don't know how much we will make, but hopefully it will take care of plane tickets for starters. Or enough to ship a container with our stuff (and possibly a car) inside. It's a start. Definately a great way to share with people what God is calling us to do and to get the word out.
PRAYER: Praying A LOT. Praying for faith. We've never had to trust God to this degree before. I mean, really. Praying for wisdom. For specific direction. Even started praying for a place to live there, specifically listing to God all the things we'll "need" there. Even praying for a job for Tony, if that's what the LORD would have. He has done it before, and I know He can do it again. I've learned to not hold back in prayer. He is good to give us all we need.
KIDS: They now know that we are moving to Argentina. They accept it as fact and as their future. Big A is not happy about it, however. Whenever we try to talk about it with him, he almost starts to cry. I guess 10 is a hard age to do this. I can't imagine 12 or 14 then. Please pray for him. We know that God has him in mind, He has all three of our children in mind, in calling us there. The call is just not for us, but for them. This is part of His will for their lives, as well. He has not forgotten about them and his sovereign plan covers them also. They are not an afterthought, and we know that God has amazing things planned for them as well in this. :)
TONY: Tony keeps wanting to write something here, but it just hasn't happenned yet. He's not much of a computer guy. One of these days. He does say that he feels more and more strongly that God wants us there. That God wants us to move "al Sur" - meaning to the south of Argentina. Funny, because I hear the same thing. Loud and clear. My friend who came over (and left the check) said she always saw us working with Spanish people. I remember one Sunday, some 8 years ago, she was praying for me at church as I just wept over how Tony was persecuting me for my faith (he was not yet saved), and she said, "Christine [she calls me Christine, I don't know why], this is preparation for you. One day you will be able to encourage Tony. I just see you working with Spanish people. I don't know if it's here or there. But, yes, I see it. Hang in there."
I'm so glad I did.
:)
July 1, 2010
Self-learning and Famous Self-learners
And then I found THIS site.... *shudder*. It just encourages me even more to throw it all to the wind, move to Patagonia, and let him teach himself.
Just kidding. I probably won't follow through on my threats. At least the "throwing it all to the wind" part.
So, I was perusing this delicious site and came across this list of famous self-taught geniuses. I can't decide who my new hero is!
Abigail Adams, Ben Franklin, or Abraham Lincoln. Or all of the above. We'll add Big A's name to this list one day when he discovers his own dinosaur on the Patagonian steppe.
(I'm really just using that as bait to try to convince him that moving to Argentina is REALLY COOL and he'll REALLY like it. It's not working yet.)
Back to the planning board...
:)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
