um...why?

Some may have wondered, "why?" when they read this post that I wrote last week where I said that I had left Mexico. I could say so much in response to that question. I could explain....

*All the things I learned there.

* The conversations that I had.

* The time I spent with my Lord, growing in my relationship with Him and in the knowledge of Him.

* The hardships that have been faced. [And by no means would that be the bathroom experiences. Those where great pleasures. Seriously.]

* The friendships I made.

* The opprotunities I now have before me.

* The longings of my heart.

...yes. I could explain all that. But then I would only be explaining the how the Lord brought me here to Georgia again, not the why.

The why. His name is Erick. A shy young man. He lives in a moderate size town in the US of A. In my backyard, you could say. Today we did his homework together, stopping ever now and then to talk about whatever. We finished, joined the rest of the group of kids, sang "Happy Birthday", shared some cupcakes, and he went on his way with his mom.

While I had been talking with him, I stepped back and took a mental picture and thought, "Would I ever have believed that I would be here at this time and in this place?" The answer was a clear "No." and a "Thank You for doing things that only You can do, Lord."

Why the appearance of over-dramatization on my part, you might ask?

Because we shared that time together speaking Spanish.

Dreams, prayers rather, do come true when the are from the Lord.

Pulled

Have you ever tried walking two dogs at once? Its a crazy task. Get them all hooked up, they cross back and forth, twisting thier leashes and ending up going in two totally differnt directions.
I was in the middle of all that today when I looked up and stopped suddenly. I saw a reflection of myself in the window. Arms and legs spread wide, steaching as far as they could go in opossite directions. I was being pulled, but going no where. And I looked like an idiot.
And oh how that must look when I do the same thing when I attempt to live my life to please people. All strung out in different directions but going nowhere.
Oh to live life only seeing eternity and not get pulled from one side to the other!

"He leadeth me in the path's of righteousness for HIS name's sake."

Hast mostla.

We emerge from the wooded path into a clearing. There sits a little wooden house. The door stands open and two children stop their play, staring at the strangers that had just happened upon their home. Greetings where exchanged all around, and then a few words in a language unknown to me.
We walk up to the next home and enter the kitchen. Three very dear ladies are there, grandmother, mother, and daughter. Our greetings with them are filled with more warmth. Strong hugs and kisses on each cheek. Others are there as well, and formal greetings are exchanged once again. Then a few more words are said, again, just sounds that register nothing in my mind. They all stood up suddenly, walking down the hill to their bedroom. We all take seats, as their neighbors, the people we had just talked to moments before, begin to fill in. We begin to sing. Every now in then, David translates what is happening into Spanish, and I in turn translate to my sister Ashlyn. We sing from our hearts with praise to the Lord. We sing "Open the eyes of my heart Lord" and David asks Ashlyn and I to sing it in English. David shares from the Bible, and afterward we have a time of prayer.
We go back up to the kitchen to share a meal togther. We laugh and carry on, my friend Ana fills me in on what is happening. We had discovered this home only two weeks before, when those ladies trusted Christ. We are told that it is time to go. We go around the room, hugging the ladies and barely touching the fingertips of the men.
Ashlyn and I make it outside first. We walk quickely for a little ways, then stop, looking at each other. Tears fill our eyes.

We had shared our lives with those people. Yes, only over a few short weeks, and always with a translator or two, but we loved them and we knew that they loved us.
But we also knew that we would never see them again in this world. We were leaving. Leaving to go back to the country that we came from, with no expections of ever returning to that small clusters of homes, hours from any real town, in the middle of the mountains of Mexico.
We had shared our lives with them, but now we share, the LIFE, life eternal, and not through a translator, but through our mediator, Jesus Christ. Yes, life that transends all types of lifes, cultures, languages, and experiences. We are one in HIM.
So even though we knew what was coming, we never said goodbye but we did say "hasta mostla."

Or in other words....
See you later.

Days Gone By…

No photoshop here. We really look that stunning.  Seriously. 

We have been spending our days up in the mountains.  Half the week we come back down to the valley every night, but the other half we just stay up there with some very dear friends.  

There are so many stories to tell.  And those stories could fit any movie category you would like…thriller, comedy, horror, family.  I hope to share some of those stories here (eventually)  but I know some of those stories will only be shared audibly, with family and friends, or over the decades Ashlyn and I will sit down and recount these days, or some of the stories are just “the ones you tell your grandkids” 

But we pray only eternity will tell all of these stories.  Of the lives that have been changed and the ripple effect that it has had. Yes.  Eternity will tell the whole story.  

Is that frightening or encouraging? 

And for now I say goodbye, because we will be staying up in the mountains for the next couple of weeks.  Next week we are having a kids camp, and then a missions team from my chapel is coming for a week, and then…well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

Nos veamos. 

Te tengo

Lord, I am fighting it….rage, anger, bitterness.  The urge to just run away. 

I pen these thought in my journal and pause.  Wow.  That does not sound pretty.  But how true.  I am deciding what to do about someone who I feel has wronged me, but yet I do not want to go to that person because, I mean, what will the say?  What will they do?

As I sit, contemplating, “VAMOS!”  interrupts my precious alone time with my Savior.  “What?!  Already?  But Lord, don’t you know I need this time to stew?!” 

But we leave anyways.  The morning is still new as we walk up a mountain to go visit a family.  They have prepared breakfast for us.  The air is crisp, but the sun begins to break through the clouds, warming the earth.  The whole way I say nothing but contemplate the injustice of my life, knowing what I needed to do, but asking God to let it be anything.but.that. 

We maneuver the hill to find the young girls of the family playing as though there were no cares in the world.  I join them.  I look at the mid-morning sunlight dancing in young four-year-old Dani’s clear brown eyes.  Her face fills with glee.  I pick her up under her arms, swinging her back and forth between my legs.  She giggles with delight.  I throw her up in the air.  She grasps for my hands.  Claws and pinches my arms. The joy leaves with rapidity.  I pull her close to myself.  As she lays her head on my shoulder, breathing deeply, I say with a little smile, “Te tengo.  No  te precoupes. Confia en mi.”

My breath catches in my throat, my eyes mist, and my heart says, “That’s what it is, right Lord?” 

I have you.  Don’t worry.  Trust in me. 

Oh Lord, make me like a child again.

Picture. Picture.

Remember when I said here, that a friend of mine was helping me develop children’s lessons?  Yes.  She was wonderful.  And still is.  But here is what we did and how it works.

I started developing picture stories for kids using some of the techniques I learned at The Ezekiel Project.   As a spring board I am using a little booklet called “Your Story”  that goes through and chronologically and logically tells the story of man and his relationship with the God of the universe.  I had wanted something simple and straightforward that offered a clear path into the gospel.  I mean, I know its possible to travel from "Daniel in the Lion’s Den” to the redeeming work of Christ, but considering my Spanish and that many times Spanish is the second language of my listeners, and sometimes I am translated, I wanted something that leads into the gospel without having to jump a few bushes to get there.   I also wanted lessons that could build on one another, because I most of the time I work with the same group of kids on a weekly bases.  However I also needed something that a one time listener could learn from as well and not be completely lost like if you watch one episode of the TV show LOST. 

I had started sharing the stories using sketch paper and markers….having to redraw everything each time.  Then it was suggested that I draw the base to the stories, laminate them, use dry erase markers, wipe it clean, and then reuse.  That’s where my friend the artist comes in.  I am not been artistically gifted at all.  So she is doing all the drawing for me.  Each picture also has a bible verse that is related to the story so if given time, we can memorize it together and if not, then I show it to them during the story time. 

We were together back in Georgia last week and worked on them together.  Since getting back here last Monday, I have used those little things every day, sometime more than once a day.  And it has been working great.  The kids are interested, I know were I am going, and we are all learning.  

So far we have four lessons (which means I have told the same story a lot of times this week!)  and we hope to make enough to cover the entirety of the booklet.  

For mom…

….just to prove that we are alive and well.  The picture was taken a few hours ago while we were in a truck coming down the mountain.

And we are getting along. I only mention it because the last time Ashlyn and I lived together we were 15 and 17, that was not.quite.the.case.  Perhaps the years have done us well.  

Snapshot.

…from my day.  Lovely.  And I am tired.