We're not crazy

THESE guys are!

Wetsuits? Winds of up to 100km/hour? Temps of 55 degrees? Oh, okay, yeah... and WE'RE the crazy ones. Riiiiiight.
 
When we were in Bariloche, after dropping off some supplies and visiting with local missionaries, we popped on down to the lake. Our objective was to pacify the troops, who, after our run-in with The Shower, were finding missions somewhat distressful and not in the least bit fun. They're kids. When in ministry or missions, it is VERY important to pay attention to your kids (well, it's always important to pay attention to your kids, but you know what I mean). If it's always about everyone else, they will end up hating you, others, and even the God you say you serve.

So we left our friends up on the hill and headed out looking for something fun to do, that they wanted to do.

So there we found ourselves, standing on a deserted lake shore, throwing some rocks and sticks into the water, just minding our own business, when across the volcanic pumice...

Pumice (the white hill of smaller rocks running down the center of this picture)

... walk three guys in wetsuits.


Are you kidding me?!?

Now, I know it's summer and all, but summer in Bariloche is not like summer in Florida. And certainly not on this day. I love the cold, but even I was shivering in the blustery wind, wishing I were somewhere (as in indoors) sipping something warm and cozy, enjoying the view from there. But, because I love my kids, I was standing on this chilly lake shore, being whipped to shreds by some serious wind, throwing rocks into this wild mountain lake, trying to act like I was having fun. Because I'm a good mommy.

But, I must be officially old or something, because I don't do dangerous anymore. Except when God asks me to (which lately seems to be kind of often). And going for a swim in this lake on this day, summer or not, was not on my "Must Obey God" list.

But in these young whipper-snappers went. Young people these days. *shaking head*

And then they disappeared. Lost in the waves. I couldn't help thinking these were probably someone's kids. One cramp out there and no one's gonna hear your cries for help. You're toast. I hope my kids don't do stuff like this. But, considering their parents, they probably will.

:)

*Fortunately, and to my relief, they later emerged from the crashing waves.

driving through the ash plume

In getting ready for our little trip to Bariloche, and at some point while packing, it vaguely and momentarily dawned on me that we would be driving right towards the volcano. In fact, we drove right through the ash plume and were only 60 miles from active volcano Puyehue in Chile. We realized how close we were when it began to get strangely hazy. As it got worse and worse, it dawned on us that it wasn't, in fact, dust being whipped into the sky by the persistent Patagonia winds, but it was ash! *gulp*

My heart bobbed right up into my throat in a moment of, "Now what stupid thing have we done?!"

It turned out to be fine, though. We just rolled up the windows and kept driving, trusting it'd all be okay, sending up some prayers, and snapping some photos for posterity's sake. Besides, this is missions, there are supposed to be things like danger and exploding volcanos and malaria and things like that, right? Otherwise, where's all the fun? I mean challenge?


heading out across the desert towards the Andean foothills



it started getting green and hilly

oh look, kids, ñandú!  [lesser Rhea/small ostrich]

Andean foothills, also known as the Patagonian Steppe [and overheated car]



stopping to hand out water for said overheated car

  

Oh, look, kids - guanacos! (llamas)

 

starting to get very ashy now



hitchhikers



crossing one of the many resevoirs, you can really see the ash



we stopped here for a potty break - all the white stuff on the hills is ash from June's explosion
[see some FANTASTIC PHOTOS of the eruption!]

  

ash

 

pretty :)



driving through the heart of the ash plume



visibility dropped to about 3km

At this point, we were praying that God would shift the direction of the wind and blow the ash away.

Needless to say, we were pretty amazed when that's exactly what happened.

Right as we drove into Bariloche, after six hours on the road, four of it driving through the ash plume, we saw it happen right in front of our eyes!

 

the sky: half clear, half ash

 

there was a literal line - it was WILD!

clear skies over Bariloche (there's the tail end of the ash being blown out on the right)

We were blessed with clear, ash-free skies the rest of the weekend!

Trip to Bariloche

I've tried writing something about our recent mini-mission trip to Bariloche, but I can't seem to get anything out. Homesickness and sadness hit me hard this past week from completely out of the blue, and I just can't get myself together. I'm teary, weepy, sad, feeling sorry for myself, unmotivated, convinced at the moment that perhaps we are either stupid, crazy, or both for doing this missionary thing. What were were thinking?? Maybe it's just hormones and homesickness talking, but I'm wondering if we've completely ruined our kids' lives by bringing them here. Sigh. Sadness sucks.

Well, anyway, not to go on about that, and don't worry about us too much (but you can pray, we need that). For now, here are a few pictures from our trip six hours southwest to the mountains.



the church/community building where we stayed in Bariloche (back view)



the new church they are building down the hill

 After I saw a huge black spider in the bathroom, I was like, "Hey kids, let's pop the tent open inside and sleep there!" My suggestion was met with delighted squeals.

Me and my girls zipped up safe in there, while the boys slept out in the van.

how I heated the building when we got up in the morning - it's chilly in the mountains in summer
{in the forefront is one of the trash bags of clothing and supplies we brought}
and we finally used our carseat. Roadtrippin' is a good time for safety.



the wood stove I didn't know how to work - it sure did put out a lot of heat, though, when our friends lit it!



the kitchen
we had to use water collected in buckets to wash dishes, our hosts graciously provided us with bottled drinking water
(volcanic ash is in the water system and carries dangerous heavy metals making it unsafe to drink, at least that's what they told us)



the view from the kitchen - spectacular

that's snow-capped Mt. Tronador on the left, it lies on the Argentina/Chile border

talking in front of the church (on the right) with missionaries Enzo and Sandra, who live and work in the neighborhood
Sandra is holding a soccer ball we were able to give them to work with the kids (they were so happy about that ~ thanks, Hughes'!)

Incidentally, there was volcanic ash EVERYWHERE. You can see it in this photo, it's the white stuff that covers everything. After we packed up to leave, I swept the church floor. I regret not taking a picture of the amazing amount of grit and sand and ash (all from the volcano) I collected. It was another reason we slept in the tent. There was just no way around all that grit.

the soccer field where they play and do outreach with the neighborhood kids
(that is not sand or dirt, it's all ash)



more of the neighborhood

Enzo and Sandra have been living in this neighborhood (located at Km 23, for those in the Bariloche know) for ten years. They are two of the few Christians of the about 500 families that live here. They are working for the most part alone, but receive construction teams from the church here in Neuquen from time to time, and visitors (like us) who take them supplies, and hopefully encouragement, from time to time.

They are self-supporting local artists and native missionaries. 

They make mates out of gourds and sell them at fairs throughout the region. They scrape by, but it's an artist's life. (And missions isn't easy either.)

When they're not doing that, Sandra is teaching literacy classes in the church building. They have to teach the residents of the barrio how to read, before they can teach them to read the Bible. They also hold a weekly Happy Hour (kid's Bible study and craft) and play soccer with the kids. It's slow work. Their obstacles are many. I don't know how they do it, I really don't. They did say that that is why visitors are so important. They couldn't do it alone.

just a few pics from this week

I'm sitting here on the edge of the bed, by the window, holding the laptop at various and sometimes elevated angles, just to catch a signal - something I do every time I want to do the internet. Sometimes it works, sometimes it's doesn't. Let's see...

Tony freelanced a lot this week, thanks be to Jesus - here he is covering the news around the city

since the Mission Mobile is currently on lock down, he rode one of our donated bikes 8 miles one way
in 90 degree heat to work, then back again 12 hours later. one does what one has to do.

freelancing for a production company somewhere way out in the middle of nowhere Neuquen Province
(he clearly gets to do all the fun stuff)



Me, what have I been doing? Oh, I'm busy wiping noses, hanging laundry (no clothes dryers here, nosirree), washing dishes by hand (such suffering!), and sweaping and dusting the whole house a mininum of twice a day due to the dust and ash that blows in the windows. Exciting, evangelistic stuff. I know, you're jealous. You're thinking, Wow, I wish I had her life. I know, I know, it's tough not to envy me and my amazing life.

This week I reached three kids for Christ. I made brownies. Hey, happy kids, happy mommy. We ignored the boxes that needed unpacking, the heat, and the fact that we still don't have fans and the oven would make the kitchen a bit more toasty than it already is, and dug into our precious chocolate chip and brown sugar stash to escape reality for a bit by drowning ourselves in butter and sugar and chocolate. It was worth it.

Sorry, no pics of the finished product... they were gone way too soon.

got some of my extra kitchen stuff together to give to Yoli, the wife of one of the construction guys
next door who came here from Mendoza with barely a thing to even cook with. it feels good to give.
(hey Denise, see your cups??)

met and talked with Enzo about going down to help him do some sort of Christmas outreach in Bariloche -
he is an artist and the church's contact there who lives and works in a very poor and pretty rough neighborhood reaching the community with change for Christ by teaching art

we shared our testimonies with the youth group - great group of kids - half of them are first generation Christians that have been reached through the church's Christian school

getting to know the church better - they're still pretty awesome

finally unpacked some books (shudder with happy goodness)... ah, you're never alone with a good book

It was like Christmas! Here I was a little worried about how we're not able to do "normal homeschooing" like all our good and diligent and disciplined homeschooling friends back home, but just hide the books for a couple of months and then voila! All of a sudden they're eating up the Classics. {Oh, yeah, and blowing out the big screen TV works, too.}

My boy actually read his first non-fiction book this week all on his own: 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. I couldn't believe it! My girl read Anne of Green Gables, Black Beauty, and Grimm's Fairy Tales. Great Illustrated Classics are a great way to ease them into good literature. The pictures and shorter versions are working for us.

And by far my favorite picture...

seatbelts and car seat optional! (and this is the pastor's wife... they're a fun bunch! lol)



more photos

I meant to post these the other day, but forgot to include them here... here are a few more pics from Patagonia. Enjoy. :)

Bariloche after the volcano exploded - ash piled high by the side of the road

Our friends have relatives in Bariloche, so they drove the 4-5 hours to help shovel two feet of ash off roofs, so they wouldn't collapse under the weight.


the road from the Patagonian desert to the Andes mountains,
via Villa Pehuenia, Neuquén Province, Argentina
[check out that snow, 6-9 feet easily!)


 Four. more. weeks. !

A Very Scary Night

After posting recently on parenting with Christ in view, I should not find it surprising then, that I should be tried on this very point.

One night this week Baby fell asleep on my lap, changed positions, and let out a cough. A barky, seal-like cough. Now where'd THAT come from? She had been fine all day.

Oh, no, I thought... What now?

Within two short hours she was having difficulty breathing. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Since Tony was working, I desperately prayed for wisdom about what to do. I skipped calling the doctor, and dialed 911. It seemed like an eternity as I waited for them to show up. I waited alone, but somehow not alone.

"I am with you always..."

I held my baby as she wheezed and struggled to breathe, and prayed the shaky, heart-aching prayers of a very scared mommy, "Please, Lord, just let her be able to breathe until they get here. Jesus, help. JesusJesusJesus...," I breathed.

I paced, and rocked, and prayed, and paced some more.

I continued praying, my heart in my throat, "Please don't let anything happen to my baby. Your baby... yes, your baby. You made her Lord, please help her. Touch her little body, Lord. Help her. Please, Jesus."

WHERE. ARE. THEY??

Pace, pace, rock, stare out window.

I went on,"Help me, Lord. I know... I don't trust You. I know, I'm sorry. I'm going to trust you with this. I am going to choose to trust You. Because I can't do anything else. I can't save her. I can't do anything. O God, please help."

She was still struggling to breathe when the EMTs arrived. They took one look at her, one listen to her chest and her back and said, Yes, she has to go to the hospital. She is having respiratory difficulty. And we were off, all piled into the ambulance, for our first ambulance ride ever. And hopefully our last.

It was SO SCARY.

A medicated nebulizer and oxygen in the ambulance, some drugs to reduce the swelling in her bronchial tubes in the ER, and her breathing became less labored.

Croup, they said.

Croup?

What's that??

As I held my baby that night in a bed so big it seemed to swallow her little body, stroking her hair, I couldn't help but ask, "Lord, why are you doing this to me?".

My nerves are just about shot from this baby. I had no idea how good we had it with the other two. To think I complained. Whatever. I've never even heard of some of the illnesses this one gets. And so much for the more-you-breastfeed-the-healthier-the-baby. She breastfed for-ever, and gets the sickest.

I just can't let this child out of my sight. She is just that way.

I look away for a second, only to turn back and see her with a open pill box, pills all over the floor, and one on its way to her mouth. Time to call Poison Control.

I turn away for a moment, turn back, and she is chewing on a piece of broken glass! Now where did THAT come from?

She spikes mysterious high fevers out of nowhere.

She was in the bathroom with me once, and I looked down from brushing my teeth to find her gnawing on a razor blade! She is that quick.

I hesitate to leave her with anyone - because I know her.

Mercy. This child!

Miraculously, she has never been hurt. Miraculously. Not even a nick from gnawing on glass and razor blades. It can only be God's grace.

But I confess that I am fearful - post traumatic stress from too many heart-stopping moments. I find it hard to trust the Lord completely. There are things I hold back. Areas I don't want Him to touch. You can have me, Lord, just not this part of me.

As I prayed in the ER that night for the Lord's mercy on my little baby, mercy to be able to spend another day with her, I had a revelation. And, as revelations always go, I thought to myself, how could I not have seen this before?

Oh, maybe I've realized it before, but I just haven't been able to really look it in the eye.

I realized that I have been holding onto my children. My children. They're mine, Lord, not yours. You can't have them. Don't take them. I'll protect them. You can't. You're God, yes, but are you God over all?

It's funny, really, when we try to keep something from the Lord. He will aggressively go after that one area, pursuing it relentlessly, allowing things to happen to get at that one thing we will not surrender.

For me, I think it's my kids. I'm willing to give up my stuff, my home, my country, my language, "anything for Christ," I say.

Just not my kids.

The truth is, we are not guaranteed tomorrow. We are not guaranteed another day with our children, in our jobs, in our house, with our spouse, in this life, with anyone. We are no where promised we will live until we are old and grey. Nor are we are promised to see our children reach adulthood. The LORD could take my baby here, today, in the great, safe, US of A. It happens all the time, doesn't it?

I am SO thankful the Lord spared my baby's life for one more day. I have been thanking Him much these past several days that there is a hospital less than 10 minutes away. I thank Him there are such things as drugs - the miracle of modern medicine. I thank Him for his mercy. Such mercy.

I had another, more practical, revelation that night - I don't think we'll be moving to any remote mountain village any time soon. The city is looking pret-ty nice... and I'm not a big fan of the city. Any city.

Bariloche does sound pretty good to me now. Yeah, a city. With a hospital. And some doctors.

Yeah, city living! Doesn't sound so bad to me now!

God works all things for good, to those that love him. 

Even scary midnight calls to 911.

Providence, Facebook, and oh the Negativity

Webster's defines "providence" as n 1 often cap : divine guidance or care 2 cap : GOD 1 3 the quality or state or being provident.

I love and hate Facebook. I think it's great to be able to get and maintain being in touch with so many people all over the world, from past and present - but I hate the privacy games they play.

That being said, the part I love is that we find so many great people on it. We recently found an old high school classmate of Tony's on Facebook. Turns out she lives in Patagonia now. Bariloche to be exact. She has lived there for the past 14 years.

Providence.

We asked her for her number and called her. The connection made it obvious how far away she really was. We (mostly Tony) talked to her for hours. After catching up and reminiscing a bit, she told us all about living in Patagonia (at least her corner of it). Everything we wanted to know and expected to get on a trip down there to check it out, she told us firsthand: the cost of living, rent, food, utilities, transportation, people, weather, you name it, she knew it. After filling us in, she then offered to help us in anything we would need.

What is also interesting is that she is a lawyer. This is extremely helpful - to have a friend who also knows the law of the land - if we are to ever work with street kids or orphans, for example (people helping kids sometimes get falsely accused, misunderstood, or entangled in legalities, etc.), or have any kind of ministry that requires knowledge of the law. Even though the law is, er, a fickle thing in Argentina, subject to change and questionably enforced - it is reassuring nonetheless to have such a great connection.

That wonderful news being said, it's not all roses. I had someone recently look me right in the eye and say (as our friend told us would happen), "I can't give you money for this. So don't ask.".

Uh, we didn't? And haven't. So lovely. The negativity is just always going to be there, I guess. I just wish people would keep it to themselves. It doesn't help. And it doesn't change what God is asking us to do. So, trying very hard to ignore it. It never ceases to amaze me, though, the people who just don't care about doing good. Or missions. Or other people. Or helping anyone. How selfish we are, indeed. We truly do need to be saved. Saved from ourselves.

Nonetheless, God is faithful and good to encourage. There are lone voices out there that encourage us not to give up. Never give up. Keep plowing ahead. Keep pushing forward. It may take a while, but, with God's help, we'll get there.

Following Christ isn't easy. No one ever said it would be. All noble things are difficult.


"And when he putteth forth his own sheep, he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him: for they know his voice." John 10:4


:)

Ex-pat Bloggy Friends

A couple of months ago we had the pleasure of meeting Katie, the author of Seashells and Sunflowers. I discovered her blog when I came across Bloggers in Argentina. She blogs about her ex-pat life in a small coastal town south of Buenos Aires. She is writer extraordinaire, takes amazing pictures, and explains the culture (and food!) of Argentina exceptionally well.

Truth be told, I normally don't make friends over the Internet. But after reading over her site a bit this summer, and then talking with Tony, we decided she probably wasn't a psychopath (don't laugh - the only time I ever friended someone over the Internet, she actually was a pychopath). So, anyway, when we saw that she was getting ready to come back to the States for a visit, we decided to invite her over for dinner. It's been a while since we've lived in Argentina, so we were interested in hearing the latest news, and from an ex-pat's perspective.

We had a wonderful evening chatting with Katie. She was delightful company and is absolutamente divina. Her Spanish is better than mine, so Tony had a good time speaking argentino with an American who actually understands his rapid-fire Spanish. She also won some brownie points laughing at his very Argentinian jokes - which she also actually seemed to understand. And she liked my food (which is good, because I made the mistake of trying out a new recipe on company - not a good idea if it doesn't turn out right. Fortunately, it did.).

So, check out her blog Seashells and Sunflowers, if you are interested in learning a little bit about Argentina. She writes about the culture, the food (recipes included), the people, the places, and is currently even writing a little series on (the touristy aspect of) Patagonia here, here, here, and here. Her site is also a wealth of information and links for anyone considering travel to Argentina.

You can view more of Katie's amazing photography here.

Enjoy!

:)

Earthquakes continued, The Toba, and Carceles

Just read a very distant internet aquaintances's blog (we wrote to them once or twice years ago) that the 8.8 earthquake in Chile was felt in Patagonia. Specifically in Bariloche, one of the places we have been considering for our home base. We actually corresponded with this ex-patriot, American couple for a little bit a few years ago. Even then we had been considering moving back to Argentina, specifically to this area, and I found them on the Internet. Gotta love the Internet. They were very helpful in giving an update on the present economy, cost of living, how to make the big move, etc.. It's funny, I guess this idea has been in the works for years. What's funnier still is that recently I prayed, "Oh, Lord, if this is what you are saying, please confirm it every day!". One day, after almost a year, I clicked on their blog to read this! It was one of those "whoa" moments. I've been having a lot of them lately.

Anyway, yesterday I was doing some research online about Argentina (I should know all this by now... but, whatever, I like to read). BBC online has some country profiles. On the Argentina page was a link to an article on the Toba, the forgotten people of the Impenetrable Forest near the Paraguayan border (see little red dots on this map). Years ago we were watching a show, via DirecTV, on the Toba. The poverty they live in is extreme. Tony just stared at the TV saying, "We need to go help them. How I would love to just go and help them. Everyone's forgotten about them, no one helps them." All I could think was, "Well, I'm not going back there, so I don't know how that's gonna happen". Deep down I knew I was in the wrong; I was being selfish, or fearful, or just plain stubborn and unwilling. But I couldn't change how I felt, I really NEVER wanted to go back to Argentina, definately not to this hot, steamy, disease and poverty-ridden place with my children. So I did the smart thing and just remained quiet.

Such a great helpmate, aren't I?

A couple of years later a new show came out, "Carceles" (translated "Prisons"). Great. This one was hard core. The reporter goes into the prisons of Argentina to talk to the prisoners about their fears, their worries, their guilt, and their repentance (ha, if any). Again, Tony just stared at the screen saying, "I wish I could go there and talk to them. Amazing what sin will do to you, huh? How I would love to just talk to them about Jesus..." or something to that effect. This time I thought, "Yeah, but, that's CRAZY. You don't know if you'd come out alive! That interview guy is really risking his life going in there. They could totally kill him!". I mean, it's not like American prisons. No guards, no dividing wall with a telephone, no cameras, nothin'. Now that's dangerous. But this time I just looked at him and thought, "What is my problem? Look at him. What if this is his calling? What if he actually is called to this kind of dangerous stuff? Oh, Lord, if so, you are going so have to perform one. big. miracle. You're going to have to change my heart. I don't want to stand in the way if this is from you."

I don't know when it happenned, but it did. I honestly shake my head everyday because I can't wait to get there. I'm probably the one who is most shocked. I'm sure I am, because I know myself. Do I really want to go back to Argentina? How can I actually want this? This is WEIRD. What is going ON??? But I really do want to go. It is weird, even for me. But as Tony likes to say, "Time to apply all we've been learning!". Haha. I'll say.

Maybe I'll never go to the Toba, but I do know that if we lived in Argentina, Tony could go. Maybe we could all go, but if not, Tony could easily go. Or round up a group of people to go. Take some food, some clothes, the gospel of LIFE and HOPE. I'm sure he'd never be the same if he did. I'm sure neither would I.

Toba