6.21.12

"I sought the Lord, and He heard me, And delivered me from all my fears...."

I sat in the hall with all the other patients and their drips. We line the wall in the ER. IV analgesics I could not understand the names of tapped into my right arm at the elbow; the worst rebound migraine in the history of migraines. One man in a neck brace on a stretcher, a boy in a wheelchair peeking out of the next room, a woman in labor sitting next to me; she had been there for hours, still waiting... Waiting, waiting, waiting. That's what we do here.

It is well past midnight, this first day of winter. I sit, the drugs beginning to work their magic and ease the pain, and put me to sleep in a sitting position. My eyes fling open, slower than usual, as I hear the commotion - a man being brought in on a stretcher. He collapsed outside, the men who drove him to the hospital unable to hold him up. Blood is streaming from his chest: a gunshot wound.

I think that because I am in hospital he will be saved.

He dies several minutes later. I watch as the doctor comes out, his body language says everything. He points to his chest, He received a shot HERE. He shakes his head, takes off his glasses. We did everything we could...

It was like a horrible movie, the next scene predictable. The son buries his head in his hands and starts to sob, "My father, my father..."

The eyes of the LORD are upon the righteous,

and his ears are open unto their cry.

The face of the Lord is against those who do evil,

To cut off the remembrance of them from the earth.

Was he a bad man?, I think to myself. Are these the consequences of a life lived wrongly??

I wonder.

Sometimes I feel as desolate as things appear.

{...none of them that trust in him shall be desolate...}

Perhaps it is good that we are here, I try to console myself. Yes, very good that we are here, I tell myself again. I squint at the scene, breathe out, shake my head slow.

No, a voice says, Go home.

Why are you here? - the voice whispers. You could be next, you know... It's dangerous here. Don't you know that?

Fear, a constant companion, comes to visit again. Why can't fear just leave me alone?

 The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, And delivers them.

Death. Need. Loss. It is too much to bear some days, many days, most days. Nine months and I feel like I already need a big, long, stress-free furlough.

 

Many are the afflictions of the righteous.
The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears.

Today there is no gas in town. No gas at the gas stations. There's just no gas. Lines of cars are three blocks long. Tony says, I'll go after midnight tonight, maybe there won't be any lines then. He tells me of the strike that is supposed to last into next week, which probably means no trucks making deliveries. I say we should go to the store today and stock up just in case.

We are on our knees, praying for peace. The anxiety overwhelms, driving us down. Tony gets ready to go to the older boy's home, the opposition begins.

I need to pray, he says standing at the kitchen sink. I don't want to go. I can feel it.

Sometimes I get tired of these desparate prayers.

It's the first day of winter, June 21. My mom's 65th birthday. Sixty-five. Where has the time gone?

She buries her father. He died on Father's Day.

Death, like a Gypsy, comes to steal what I love.  Again.

Sometimes I feel grey. As grey as these winter skies. I cry. Cry until three in the morning and I just can't stop.

Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good;

Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!

Oh, fear the Lord, you His saints!

There is no want to those who fear Him.

I think of regret. Pain so deep, sorrow so great, I will never be the same again. I have an epiphany. And I'm mad it takes me forty years to come to it. I will never allow anyone to influence me again when I know what God is telling me to do. When I know what is right. But I don't do it. It's too late, it's too late. I can't go back.

Only ahead.

I think of this forgiveness that I have been given. This wonderful, unbelievable, undeserved forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. I know it now more than ever. Do any of us deserve it? 

I think of him, lying in the ICU, the ventilator pushing air into his lungs, the phone up to his ear. Is he under the wrath of God or under His wings? He can hear me, but he can't speak. I grope to speak words of Truth, of Love. Something. Lord, give me something - the right words to say.

You need to get ready. Are you ready? I love you.

At my words he begins to flail his arms wildly. Fiesty, strong, German stock. Whether in agreement or in anger I do not know - I will never know, not in this life. We have to hang up. They call the nurse. He dies five days later.

The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart;

and saves such as be of a contrite spirit.

This poor man cried out, and the Lord heard him,

And saved him out of all his troubles....

The Lord redeems the soul of his servants.

I groan within myself, waiting for this redemption.

~Scripture quoted from Psalm 34

older boys' home pics

Tony helping the boys write their memory verses...

Some of the other boys helping, too...

They were really into it... (some of the boys can barely read and write so need a lot of help).

See our projector on the table?


Tony projects movies on the green wall in the background while Facundo works crowd control. I can't remember which one he showed this day, but this week he showed them Fireproof (dubbed over in Spanish). They LOVED it and cheered and clapped at the end asking, "Can you bring more movies like that?".

Camila, and my favorite picture of all time

I think this is my all-time favorite picture taken in Patagonia. Ever.

"I want to read the Bible, but I can't understand it. I need someone to help me. Can you help me?" she said.

Camila is one of our little friends. She lives deep in the slums. She is nine years old. She lives in a wood slat house with a dirt floor. Her dad is a drug addict and former pai de santo. But she wants to read the Bible. She wants to learn about it, but doesn't know how to begin. So she asked Tony.

And you know you don't have to ask us twice.

:)

what is to become of those bricks

Marcela and Ceferino are rebuilding. This will be their new house.






I got to see on Saturday how it's coming along. The brick walls have now been raised as high as my hip.

Those bricks will come in handy as the night temperatures drop into 50s, soon into the 40s. [EDIT: Now 30s...]. Freezing. Right now they are sleeping in a temporary wood-slat house with only three walls and a tarp for a roof. Brrrrr.

"He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the LORD..." ~Proverbs 19:17



back in the slums

Since we've been back from our weekend way away, I've been playing catch up: washing mountians of clothes, homeschooling, cleaning for our Wednesday Bible study, and begging Tony to pleeeeease not invite anyone over for a while or accept any invitations. I'm feeling oversocialized (is that a word?) and overwhelmed, and need to catch up and catch my breath. Moving and living here is a lot to process sometimes.

We no sooner got home, than Tony went back to the slums.



The first day he went to visit Marcela and Ceferino, he found the kids alone and the parents unavailable. So he sat down with our little friends in the dirt, glanced over, and saw one of the tracts we had given them a while back in the trash. He picked it up, dusted it off, and then began to read it, walking them through a kids' version of the gospel. He's so good that way, always so naturally sharing the gospel. He does it all the time... so easily talks about God. Even when we were leaving the Observatory, he witnessed to one of the people walking out with us about how amazing God is, and isn't it incredible that he created all these stars and planets, and Do you believe in God?

When he was done explaining to the kids about God and how we can know him, Camila looked up and said, "I would like a Bible. I don't have a Bible to read and I would like to read it."

Bibles are expensive and hard to come by here, but God always sends a few our way at just the right time.





{Photos: a house in the slums, rebuilding after the fire}

my little friends

I'm so behind on this blog. I feel like we have so, so many things to post and write about, but just no time. So, so many pictures to share, but no time to upload them.

The other night we were visiting with fellow missionary friends and I was commenting on the fact that I have, it seems, no free time. I used to have free time. I know this because I used to read. I used to have time to read. I rarely read anymore, I just don't have time. It's been an adjustment for me, because I love to read. But all my free time now, once eaten up by a deliciously good book (or some other selfish pleasure), is eaten up by socializing. Or cleaning. I have never cleaned so much in my entire life. My kids are always filthy, and so is my house. I have never seen so much dirt in all my blessed life. I can't keep up. With the dirt. Or the people. We're too busy being with them to have time for much else. Argentines are very social people. And that is, in fact, how you reach people. You have to actually spend time with them.

(duh)

So here is a picture of my new little friends.

Marcela's kids. I love them.

Marcela came to church yesterday for the first time. I sat next to her and helped her find her way through the Bible as the pastor preached. She got teary-eyed and went forward for prayer at the end. Her two sweet daughters, Camila (9) and Sofia (2), came with her to church. They kept looking shyly at me all throughout the service. So, of course, I fed them cookies. Later Camila took off with the 6-12 year olds on a three-day camp retreat with the kids from church. Just like that. She is there now, learning about God and Jesus and the Bible.

Today we went up to the slums to visit Marcela and her family. As we were heading out at 6pm, I thought of how many times our plans had changed in just one day. The morning started with Tony doing our taxes. Then he was going to fix our van (it's broken - radiator and power steering leaks), and then head out an hour south to continue work on a new church plant bathroom. But that fell through - post-poned until tomorrow - so it was off to the slums. But, wait, Juan was going to come over for a Bible study at 5 - what to do? So we called Juan to reschedule. No problem, Juan would go with us to the slums instead. Okay. But when the time came to go, no one could get a hold of Juan. So on the way out, we took a major detour and stopped by Juan's house. He was there. We all piled in the church's pickup and headed out.

Not two months ago this would have driven me crazy. Annoyed me at the very least. I barely noticed today. This is life here. Make plans, but roll with it. You never know how a day will unfold. And after we came home and stripped our dirty clothes for much needed baths, leaving piles of desert sand on the bathroom floor, the kids seemed to think dinner at 9:30 at night was perfectly normal, as well. I don't hear much of a peep out of them anymore over it (well, except the high-maintenance one, we always hear a peep or two or a trillion from her). They had too much fun running through dry river gorges up in the desert mesa with their new little friends. Throwing rocks at tin cans, kicking a ball around, and avoiding scorpions. Oh yes, scorpions. (No pictures, Denise, I promised.). Marcela said they've found them in their bed and crawling up the kids' legs. But no worries, the sting is nothing, she assured me. Her kids have been stung - "no big deal"....

barn turned house

This is the story of the barn which became someone's house. The hard way.

The bricks from this barn will soon become Marcela's and Ceferino's (and their five kids') house.

Sometimes the cross is heavy, and it hurts, and it cuts your hands and makes you sweat. The cross of Calvary, True Love, an example we Christ-followers are called to walk in and to imitate.

Sometimes the cross takes the everyday form of bricks. LOTS of bricks.

the barn before

the inside of the barn

the top half of the building's bricks dismantled



all taken down by hand



Victor sledgehammering the bricks out

Tony and Victor working hard

they couldn't start one of the hand machines, so wrapped a wire around it and pulled hard til it started

 

the first shipment of bricks ready to be loaded -
the church's pick-up truck in the background, being put to good use



loading the bricks onto the flatbed for delivery

Tony, always smiling :)

loaded and ready for delivery

arriving at Marcela and Ceferino's (I can't say house, because they don't have live in one yet)

unloading the bricks

Tony, Victor, and Dani after a hard week's work

Reaching people with the Love of Christ, and eventually with the gospel, is hard work. Breaking ground in a new place the gospel hasn't reached (this little corner of the slums) takes various forms. Sometimes it physically hurts (Tony was achey, in back pain for days). It costs, it requires sacrifice - just as my salvation cost Christ everything - reaching others will cost, too. IT MUST COST. There is always a price. But don't be afraid to get dirty or sacrifice for what is good, becauuse God's economy works this way: It is more blessed to give than to receive.

Tony's 2nd Post

Here is Tony's 2nd post (you can read his first post here). He asked me to post this verse back in July of...um... last year?

(oops)

And after he saw the one measly picture I put up the other day of an entire afternoon's work, he was like, "That's it?! That's the only picture you posted?? What happened to all the other pictures I took that day? You have to put them up, too!"

So, here you are, the scripture he wanted me to share last year {the one that keeps coming up over and over these days} intermingled with the rest of the pictures from the other day's water run to the slums.

“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left. “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat,

I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,

I was a stranger and you invited me in,

I needed clothes and you clothed me,

I was sick and you looked after me,

I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.

“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

“They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

“He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’ “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

That's all from Tony, til maybe next year.

thank you, more photos, and other stuff

Thanks for all the recent comments and the de-lurking, it really made our day! We were laughing out loud at some of the comments, our hearts warmed. It's so good to know people care. Everybody needs that, even rebel missionaries.

Last night I had a killer migraine, a stomach ache, and a neck ache. I sent Tony off to the pharmacy to get me some drugs, only to look out the window and see half the neighborhood pile into our van: the kids from next door, their friend, Yoli and her husband who just happenned to be walking by carrying a huge bottle (more like a small barrel) of water on their shoulders, plus all three of my kids and Tony. Nine people in a 5-seater van (we're missing a row of seats). I bet that was interesting. But who needs seatbelts, anyway. I guess the trip to the pharmacy was a neighborhood affair. Never boring around here. And all this after Tony spent all day demolishing a building, brick by painful brick, with a pick and hammer. Literally.



Now there's a man.  Back off, ladies, he's mine.



It's a great story, the brick story. God provides yet again.



bricks



more bricks

Someone from church who works in construction let us know about a farm that was sold and subdivided to be developed. The brick barn is being taken down and all the bricks gotten rid of.
 

the brick barn

We were able to get them for free to give to Ceferino to rebuild his house! This is an amazing blessing. There are about 8,000 bricks, worth about 10,000 pesos ($2,500 or so). Ceferino makes 3000 pesos a month (about $700);  the bricks alone are worth over three months salary to him.

The only catch is, we need to take the bricks down ourselves. One by one. Using a hammer and chisel. No bulldozer available 'round these here parts.

So, Tony and Ceferino and Dani and his brother Kevin are now spending their days pounding bricks.


Ceferino getting the bricks for his new house

Hopefully it won't take more than a few days.

Kevin working hard. Kevin is 13 and a pastor's son.

We didn't let our MK go just yet. He's can be a bit spacey, and these brick walls have been known to just topple over. Construction sites down here are not what you would call up to code. Not even close. You need to be quick and on your toes. 



Ceferino, Tony, Kevin

 
It's pain-staking work, but they are having a good time. Marcela is happy, too. It does her good to be able to get out of the slums and spend a day in what used to be a fruit plantation, surrounded by green and quiet, compared to the brown dirt and trash she is used to seeing.

fresh-picked grapes from the farm!

This weekend we are invited to a Pastor's Conference some 11 hours away. Edgardo wants us to meet all the pastors from all over Argentina, which would be really great. We would love to go, but we are almost out of money, and Tony is still looking for a job. It's either pay next month's rent, or go to the conference. We can't do both. The gas alone will put us under. Not to mention the car is not registered yet. Sometimes - especially at times like this - we feel the strain of not having a missions organization, a sending church, or regular monthly support like most missionaries. [Note: we do have some supporters, and we know who you are... all three of you! Thanks :)].

But God is not bound; His ways are not our ways. God is still God, and He has not left us, nor will he forsake us. HE is our provider, leading and guiding. And blessing. We know it, we feel it, we see it. We ask and pray for God to speed up the registration process with our car and to give Tony a job, but I think that, in the wait, he is doing other things. Being here is not about us. It's about who He wants to reach. In the meantime He is doing many things, like, perhaps, changing us.

Tony has been spending a lot of time in the slums these days.


Tony with Sebastian: his plywood house burned down and he is now living in a tent with his wife


There's always something to do.

Bring fresh water. Food. Comfort. Friendship. A helping hand. The Good News.

Love in action.



Fix-it-yourself electrical repairs: Dani holding the ladder for Raul, Sebastian's uncle


During one of their visits Ceferino, Marcela's husband, told Tony his story. He grew up in a landfill. He is one of twelve children. As a child, he picked through trash to survive. His body is riddled with gunshots. Two to his head (one grazed his jaw bone, the other his scalp), more than a few in his legs and stomach. Miraculously, he's still alive.





Dani, Sebastian, Raul

While Tony was in the slums, Yoli stopped by our house and asked for a Bible. No one has ever actually asked me for a Bible, and I was about to give her mine, right when Tony came home and said he had found one while unpacking. It was hers to keep.

Oh, Thank you, she said. I want to read the Bible at night, but I don't have one.

Now she does.

Sometimes, I venture to say most times, reaching the lost, helping those in need, spreading the gospel, takes the form of small things. Jesus doesn't necessarily ask us to do big things for him, He just asks us to be available, to obey. Knowing His will is not far from us, we can open our Bibles and read what we're supposed to do as professed followers of Christ. The question is not "What does God want me to do?", but "Will we do it?".