Just a thought...

Haiti day 5...bugs and rain

2011-06-01T20:23:00.000-07:00

Bug bites and swollen ankles are the new accessories to shorts and the coolest tshirts we can find to wear. Benadryl, Immodium and gatorade powder are passed in the hallways and when I asked a small group who wants a diet coke over ice, I got the most enthusiastic response all week. Their hopes were clearly dashed when I replied "I know me too". I don't think they thought it one bit funny, but don't seem to be holding it against me.
We hit the ground running again today and Dann and I headed back with Rachel to the Depot to finish going through boxes and putting things away, then making a master list of what was on each shelf. Cloths closet group sorted through the last of the items there and the painting was finished at the boys house. The day care center with the youngest ones, mostly toddlers is at the same location as the depot and about late morning each day these darlings are given their baths outside in two wash tubs. We asked if we could do the bathing for the staff...you know to give them a break today. It was an easy sell and I do believe we had far more fun then the children! Nothing cuter than a 2 year old baby, than a soaped up soaking wet bronze skinned bundle of energy and smiles! I know...right?
After lunch we walked to the transition house, where the older kids are taught skills like sewing, carpentry, baking and screen printing. Just blocks away, we saw an entirely different kind of people. I could feel myself on high alert. The Deeds was with us and just beginning to feel the symptoms of some bug. He went to the community feeding program, but didn't stay long when his fever and aches developed. Dann and I stayed and the door was opened to let them in just as the sky opened with a moderate rain. The kids were not one bit deterred. They still played soccer on the concrete, jumprope and basketball. It was refreshing to us and again they were given a beaded project to complete and taught from the bible, sang some worship songs and had a meal. Dann was back at the guest house with Micah when Ashley the nurse asked if he could come to the clinic with her to stitch up the back of one of the boys heads. It has rained steadly the rest of the day and has cooled everything down a bit tonight. The Deeds is feeling better but he and I stayed back from the worship night to lay low and make sure. Dominoes, the Matching game and Go Fish seemed to be just what the doctor ordered. I am praying all the stomachs settle down by the morning as we might just venture out into greater Port Au Prince tomorrow or possibly do some painting at the new staff house. I do know we'll begin the day again, singing praises to the King of Kings everything after that is up for grabs. Makes for a great sense of adventure and I am always up for that. Sorry there aren't more pictures, I am the mercy of someone else lending me their camera and then downloading what I can. Until tomorrow!

Haiti Day 4

2011-06-01T16:03:00.000-07:00

Yesterday began with Dann playing the guitar and leading our team in some worship music. We are so grateful to be here, serve and see first hand the labor of love of those who now call Haiti their home in order to provide for the children of MDL. After our holy huddle we split into several smaller groups to tackle some tasks. The "Depot" an underground storage room at the girl's room is home to donated items from hygiene products, school supplies, craft items, sports equipment and some misc construction items. We were asked to reorganize it and unpack and store the items we brought. It has taken 3 full mornings with 3-5 people working to go through bins, suitcases and boxes and create a little more order. Doing so will allow the staff here to more effectively update the website list of needs for future donations and make it much easier to find items that are needed. But hot, humid and dusty, roaches and some rodent "souveneirs" provided us an opportunity for a mighty big dose of holy perspiration; probably not at all what our team mates called it over lunch. Others from the team were next door sorting clothing and setting up a room as a closet that would be easily accessible and clearly marked and seperated by gender and size. Still another group were doing some painting at the boys home. Dann, Lynette and Kristen spent the afternoon at the clinic.

A doctor very recently joined Ashley the nurse who looks to be about 25 or so and arrived in Haiti just 2 weeks before the earthquake. She alone, was the go to person when the boys home became a makeshift hospital. For seven days straight she "deputized" the older boys and other staff members as fellow nurses and treated people with whatever was available including at least one amputation. Her nursing degree cannot come close to designating her skill, knowledge and all she has seen. The rest of the women did some crafts with the older girls while they waited for their time with Alicia who would examine and purchase the necklaces and purses each had made for the "store" here at the guest house. With the money they make, they are required to save 1/3, put aside 1/3 for more supplies and keep the last 1/3.

All the in between time was spent talking to or holding and playing with any child we could get close to. Darling little bundles of sweetness and amazingly bright smiles most often mask the history and brokenness of their young lives.

Each has a story, not that they share with us, nor do we dare ask them to recount such things, but the staff is free to confidentially share some basics with us and the fact that they can smile and laugh, run and play is evidence of what Jesus does and the power of the Holy Spirit in the lives of the staff and those teams that have come to help. There is just no more meaningful work if I can even call it that. Thank you for praying and supporting us.

Haiti Day 3...the good stuff

2011-05-30T18:13:00.000-07:00

We rose early today to gather for a meeting this morning at 7am and one of the members talk to us about John 4 and the woman at the well. Living water is the only thing that satisfies and makes any long term difference in a life. We were in organized chaos this morning. Unpacking all the 20 some bins and 23 suitcases here at the guest house, sorting and sending them to the storage room, transition training facility, the clinic and the two homes. Some of the group went to the storage room and starting rearranging and organizing some of the many things that have been brought to the orphanage in past months and didn't necessarily find their final home. Unpack, sort, pack, deliver, unpack. There was so much and we were so grateful how our churches and friends helped resupply so many necessary things. We got to witness the value and use of the gummy vitamins today at the feeding program that happens three days a week. About 150 children from about 4 to 12 are identified and invited to the patio area at the boys home. The boys at the home help set up, organize and host each of the 12 or so tables. When the gate opens, these chosen children are welcomed in and go immediately to a table based on their age and gender. They are so well behaved, probably out of gratitude for the meal ahead. We positioned ourselves at the tables and helped them do a craft, a cross with beads that represented the gospel message. Then they sang some great songs and they had a such a great time. A bible story was told to them as a group, in Creole, so I'm not sure what it was but when quizzed about what they had learned, they answered and were thrilled to get a toothbrush and toothpaste as a prize...how different they are than American children. Then we prayed for the meal. The kids never got up, cried, needed to use the bathroom or anything else. They all had self control and just seemed to know the rules and the routine. Then came the food, rice and beans with a small amount of meat. Some knew they wouldn't eat all of the small portion and immediately poured 1/2 of theirs into someone elses plate or bowl. No fighting for more or complaining. Every plate was clean. Nothing was wasted. Water to drink and then they were free to play or go home. We washed the dishes and played with any who lingered. It was such a great afternoon and if we weren't in love with Haiti before today, our hearts were stolen today.

Haiti...Day 2

2011-05-29T18:54:00.000-07:00

After a great night's sleep and breakfast with the team, we were picked up in what was probably a flatbed pickup at one time. Back inside the cage that protects us from the outside and thank goodness keeps us from falling out, we made our way to church. It was full and by American standards over full as people packed in tight against each other for the service. The youngest children from the boys and girls homes sat on the edge of the low stage and looked our direction as we watched them. The worship time was great and the message about having an attitude that reflects God's promises and ability, was encouraging. We had time to play with some children in the yard, pushing them on swings and playing hand games. The language barrier gets to me. I want to talk to them and hear from them. A few speak English, but they are the minority. We came back to the guest house for a quick refill of water bottles and change of clothes and left for the home of the family that had the vision to begin this program and orphanage. We were served lunch and had time to connect with our team and make some plans for the week. Then, it was off to the boys home to help them with a craft for their house mom as today is the Haitian Mother's day. There were some basketball games, soccer games and some pretty crazy monkey bar tricks! About 5 or so, the women headed back to cook dinner. We wanted to give the staff the night off and all went well until we were told we had served some dessert bar that was intended for the boys home. Question: What could make a girl feel worse than to eat some dessert intended for boys who don't have a mother on Mother's Day? Answer: NOTHING. Tonight we will be planning for tomorrow and what is needed. I feel so much more prepared this trip. The degree of poverty here is tragic but somehow I felt more prepared. The children though, never prepared to see a child 1/2 naked or asking for food. This morning after the church service Dann went back inside to talk to someone and a man brought in an 8 day old baby, just hoping someone could help him get medical attention. Another man said his sister has a 4 month old baby girl that his sister couldn't take care of. Its so much to think about and try to understand.

Tomorrow we head to the transition program building to paint, organize and build some shelves, then at 2pm we'll head to the boys house for the community feeding program. Off to the shower and then headed for bed, night all.

Haiti...just say "No, Merci"

2011-05-28T19:41:00.000-07:00

We left the house in Ventura about 5:30 and reached LAX in great time, despite the holiday weekend, boarded the plane and left LAX at 11pm. After a few hours of layover in Miami, some bad coffee and meeting up the the rest of the team, we left for Port A Prince. Haiti greeted us with a blast of heat and humidity and we boarded the shuttle to the terminal. The smallest blonde member of our team, the Deeds, was immediately under the watchful eyes of just about all of us. His mama, had such a tight grip on him, I'm surprised we didn't hear him squeel. We were given and had read over and over in the airport procedures not to give anything to anyone and say "No Merci" to anyone asking to help us. From the lines were ushered into, each took his/her turn infront of the immigration desk officer. Their presentation behind the glass must be intended to break us down and show us right from the start that we are guests and can be removed from the country at the hint of a problem. I admit I am always intimidated as they look at the visa paperwork, look at me, look at the passport, back at me, back at the passport and then slam the stamp of approval allowing us to move about 10 feet to the baggage claim area A uniformed guy approached us asking how many carts we needed and though we remembered to say "No, Merci" it came out 4, 4 please! Dang! That lapse in memory cost us the first $20.00. In our defense, the US has effectively taught its citizens that when a uniformed anybody in the airport asks a question, we answer. Period. No hesitation, no questions. No body wants to be "that guy", the one who shuts down the airport for some security situation because he hesitated in answering the "uniform guy's" question. So we did. After all 23 checked bags, with nearly 1200 lbs of supplies and 12 carryons, we headed out. Uniform Guy asked for our gate passes and our luggage claim tickets. I'm pretty sure the correct answer was "No, Merci" but instead we each handed over the small claim tickets because "Yes we want to take our bags with us and your uniform has "obey me or go home in a box" written all over it, so here". It took all of 20 minutes for the real baggage guy to find Uniform Guy and give him another $20.00 to buy back those baggage claim tickets. We Americans are sharp like a tack we are! "Big" wearing a hat that said "Jesus is the Boss" picked us up, and all 25 of us piled into the back of a caged truck bed with benches on each side and 2500+ lbs of luggage piled on top. A bumpy potholed road lead us to the guest house and we listened to some information about the area, tent cities etc... while said Americans sweat the equivalent of a small swimming pool...and oh how I was wishing for one earlier today. We were given an orientation, introduced to staff and then taken on a tour of the boys' home, girls home and sports center. An afternoon full of darlings whose smiles could light up the darkest night. The Deeds and some of the young boys traded water bottle sprays and touching each other's hair. Back to the guest house for dinner and some cause conversation explaining the history of the Manesstero family story of coming to Haiti. Tomorrow, church then lunch and planning for the week. Its been great so far. We are all exhausted and as I finished this up at 9:30, I am pretty sure I am the last one standing and that is just about to end. Thanks for praying. I'll try to get on tomorrow.Sorry, no pics...my camera is having Err 99 issues. Pretty sure a local repair shop would have a guy wearing some sort of uniform that I am helpless to stand up to. We'll see what a good overnight charging for the camera and recharging for us brings..Night all.

Day 9 & 10

2011-04-15T06:53:00.000-07:00

We arrived in League City late Tuesday night to the arms and bright eyes of my Mother-in-law's sister and her husband, the colonel. That's the official connection but the real connection is true-blue family and a love and devotion to us that will send us out the door today wanting to bring 'em home to California.

Cousins and their grown children have hurried home from their jobs each evening and the 3 of us have been trying to be ever so charming so that they might just decide to pack up and follow us home. We have shared great food and such fun conversation. We heard some Roger & Betty stories, visited the park and the Space Center and were reminded of the joy of a stolen cookie in the middle of the night.

Seaborough Lane has some territorial issues we learned last night. The Deeds might have been crawling on the floor right along with the herd of Dachsunds, when he got a little reminder that he is not actually a dog. The morning has brought a near complete recovery of the reminder and a good story to take back to California.

League City...thank you for everything. We could move here, no doubt, with the feeling of home that we experienced over these 2 1/2 days. Let us return the favor as soon as you are able, we'd love to have you, all at once would be a dream!

Road Trip Day 7 & 8

2011-04-12T09:49:00.000-07:00

Shawnee Oklahoma…Can I just say that nothing you read on the blog about this part of our trip can come close to describing all that has taken place in 2 ½ days. We ate and walked and watched movies… there were a few wrestling matches, some shopping and cooking and a field of dreams for one little man. A little bit of girl talk, a bit of mother-son time, some sibling laughs, some dreaming and planning, not quite enough hugging, but that just leaves us anxious for this couple of college kids to return home in a few weeks.

We leave today after a few errands and a quick lunch and head out to Keller Texas. We’ll stop there to see one more cousin and her amazing and big family in their new house. Then on to Houston to see the Taylors, we think of them as "Plum" good relatives. Micah has talked about seeing cowboys on horses, complete with holsters for their guns since before we left on the trip. I realized yesterday that his expectations will be pretty high when we hit the state line, so I have tried to warn him by telling him that cowboys drive trucks now except when they are on their ranches, so we might not see any horse riding-gun slinging men in boots tomorrow…”that’s just terrible” was his response. I just love him! If I could wrestle me up some rodeo men to hang around the neighborhood while we’re visiting, I think I’d sell my left hand…I need my right one to hold on to his as we drive off into the sunset tomorrow, leaving my own boy behind here in Oklahoma.

Get ready Texas…there’s a curly headed cowpoke and his mama and DD about to see Texas!

Day 5 & 6

2011-04-10T18:56:00.001-07:00

Humboldt Iowa…We spent the day meeting more Nelsons and Johnsons and visiting different places that I remembered from my last visit in 1983…(way too long ago). We went to the cemetery where my dad is buried and I surprised my own self by getting emotional. I don’t know why it hit me that way. It’s been almost 40 years and I know its only his body buried there, but just seeing and tracing his name on the headstone made me wonder again, “what if?” We left there and went to see some property that my cousin had purchased to build a new home on. It will be so nice for them, plenty of trees and lots of space…no fences between houses allowing neighbors to be neighborly. One cousin, Susie and her family lived in Humboldt until 2 weeks before we arrived, when all 14 of them moved to Texas. But, we got to see the house and hear the stories of where their home schooling was done and the music was rehearsed and many cars have been worked on. A home rich in memories, tell-tale charts still on the wall detailing meals etc… My cousin Rick and his wife Connie share our empty nest woes, but recently purchased a house and had it MOVED to the property where my grandparents farmed and raised their boys. “How on earth do you move a house across town?” “On a truck”…well ok then. I have seen modular homes moved in sections, but a regular ol’ house? Micah loved the daughter’s racecar in the garage and thought it was pretty cool that the house had theme rooms. Aunt Bev stole Micah’s heart and devotion with an extra special piece of apple pie with plenty of vanilla ice cream. She stocked us up on GORP for the road and we had a great dinner with the whole gang followed by a trip to the park to see the train Uncle Howard built. Chambry, Chase and Micah could have stayed and played all night, but we ended the evening with sparklers at the park and said goodbye to Steve. Saturday, we left the hotel and spent a little more time at Uncle Howards before heading out on the 10 hour drive to Oklahoma. Humboldt represents the only place I know where my Dad is somebody. Somebody with a history, with a childhood, with people that really knew him and remember him as a person, not just a position in a family. God knows what he is doing and he always has. I do wonder how life would have been different had he lived a long life, but I do not doubt that God can bring beauty from ashes and replace mourning with gladness, Isaiah 61:1-4 It is His way. I love what He has brought to my life and for the family in Iowa who honor my dad.

We arrived in Shawnee Ok about 2am and Dot scooped a sleeping Deeds up from his carseat without a peep…until he say Uncle Ryan when he opened the door. Remember when our babies stretched their arms out to be picked up or handed over to someone else? That was the Deeds…without a word, just a sleepy smile, he stretched from Dot’s arms to Uncle Ryan and melted against him. I don’t know who looked more content…Uncle Ryan or the Deeds…or me, but the middle of the night has never felt so good.

Quote of the day –running into the restaurant… ”I can’t wait to order what they have!”

Sunday morning came early for Dot and me…the deeds woke up pretty early and his mom pulled a trick out of her bag by sending him into Uncle Ryan’s room to negotiate a breakfast date at the donut shop. Sarah came over and we headed to Ok City to the fireman’s museum…advertised as open on Sunday, but alas, not this Sunday. Thankfully the zoo was right next door and we saw all the best the zoo had to offer including an ape that found Micah so intriguing, he nodded to him, then sauntered over to be nose to nose with him at the window of the exhibit! Micah thought it was probably that the ape thought he was also an Ape… ”since he didn’t have his shirt on”. We had a great day, got some laundry done and are settling in for a movie tonight.

Quote of the day “Mom, when I grow up will I grow hair all over my face?” answer “Yes”… “ok then I’m going to shave in the afternoon and the nighttime cause I don’t think I want to grow that.”

Road Trip Day 3 & 4

2011-04-07T21:17:00.000-07:00

We left Rawlins Wyoming about 10:30 Wednesday morning and headed to Cheyenne about 2 hours away Can I just say that if you are Terry Bison Ranch and you spend some time and money creating a great website full of intrigue and adventure...please be prepared to deliver on your tease. We arrived to...well no one. The alpaca's, horses and ponies were accessible, so we parked and walked the cat walk overhead and then took an apple from the car and fed the ponies small bites on small gloved hands, stretched out flat preserving fingers. Of course, the Deeds insisted on wearing his cowboy hat and I thought a car and three Californians might have raised some interest and a greeting or at least a scolding for feeding their animals, but no one...was around. There was country music playing from speakers around the different buildings...but without any humans in sight, the thought crossed my mind that we could have just walked in on some major crime scene and the barn might contain more than some tack and baby kittens...perhaps I watch too much CSI. We seized the opportunity for some good photo ops and finally found the guy that gives the train rides who was more than nice, but seemed a little tired from the three rides he had given earlier that morning. After the animals, we were anxious to visit and fish from the stocked pond, except that I guess we were supposed to bring our own poles and string and whatever else fisher guys use. I told them how far we had traveled hoping they would find a loaner in the back somewhere...but alas my charm and sympathy seeking techniques failed miserably. Dot and I were sorely disappointed...the Deeds seemed just as happy to stand in a mud puddle and pretend to fish with a stick. My bitterness...it lingers.

Fireworks are legal in Wyoming and I am hoping Nebraska and Iowa because we stopped to purchase some sparklers to light up a parking lot in the next few days. Memories...we're making a few.

Dot looked up a great Rodeo Museum and we stopped there for an hour or so and the sweetest grandma in Wyoming sold us tickets and made me want to bring her home with us. Frontier Days...not this week, but worth planning a trip around in the years to come.

Then we hit the road and headed for Lincoln Nebraska...7 hours in the car and we were pushing the limit on exhaustion. Nothing though that can't be cured by an awesome hotel room and a good night's sleep won't cure. The Deeds celebrates each time we get to go to the breakfast where "you can get whatever you want and you don't have to pay." That way we can save our money, he tells us, which I believe illustrates he knows our LOVE LANGUAGE. A morning swim, showers and we were off to the Lincoln Children's Museum...just google "Heaven on Earth for Kids" it was awesome! Anyone of the play areas would have entertained our early childhood traveler for hours...he was like a ping pong ball with so many options. If I won the lottery, I would build one at home...so great.

We hit the place next door for our first restaurant meal and had the best macaroni and cheese since ever to ever. Amen. Then hit the road cause we thought we had about 2 1/2 hours or driving to Humboldt Iowa. Except that it was really 4 hours+ but worth every last minute. This is the place my dad was born and raised and his family is wonderful. Makes me so wish we had stayed more connected with them after the death of my father and so glad we still have now. So genuine, kind, unpretentious and loving and a sense of humor that feels familiar. I am looking forward to a tour of the town tomorrow. Perhaps I am trying to recreate days long gone and the history of my Dad, but there is a little feeling of home in my heart tonight.

Until next time..

Road Trip Day 1 & 2

2011-04-06T07:57:00.000-07:00

I woke up early this morning in our hotel room, dark from the black out drapes, (if I were going to have an affair...it would be with black out drapes...they complete me:) I think it was a headache that woke me up and after making a hot pack (hot towel in a plastic bag from subway, genius!) I climbed back into bed and laid away thinking and pouring out my heart to God, thanking him for our family. I'm sure it has more to do with the fact that they are ours and no one elses, so I have a front row seat to their dreams, hopes, laughter and see first hand how they live out their priorities with such conviction. Today I was especially focused on the courage they display. The character stuff, that is was gets me, what tenders me towards them and makes me so grateful.
Each one in their own way, and on their own path have and continue to face challenges that require an extra measure of fortitude, and they keep walking. Sometimes the call is to make the right decision and sometimes, to make their decisions right. It isn't unlike what their parents have also experienced and the grandparents before that...its just different to watch it in your children, and its hard in the dark and the quiet, not to soak a pillow with early morning tears of gratitude and love.

2011 will be marked as a year of great adventure and new things, and the grace and manna God has stored up to serve us each day is more than sufficient!

This road trip adventure began with a marathon of driving and we tried to figure it out last night, but I was way too tired to calculate the number of hours we had driven in the last 24 or ratio of sleep to awake considering time zones and trip odometers and gas stops.... this would I think require something above Mr. Rigsby's Algebra 2 class in 1978! I do know we recorded 1000 miles and 4 states, 2 sandwiches, 2 salads, way too much coffee and gas prices ranging from $4.99 a gallon to $3.67. We played the guess who game, the matching game...an eye spy game of sorts, watch Franklin videos, heard hours of legos going on in the back seat, road an Alpine roller coaster...twice and opened a couple of items from the prize box as the eye spy points accumulated. A 4 year old is good for me. Who else, but a grandchild could make be go from Jacuzzi to pool at 8 oclock at night, performing a dive move from the 70's?

Today we are headed to Cheyenne. Can I just say God and I had a moment yesterday driving through Wyoming...I'm not sure what he was intending for this flat, brown state, uninhabited for miles and miles... no animals, no homes, no plants really...except perhaps he wanted to keep some land for himself, as though he is perhaps some sort of "green" wanting to preserve some creation from the development of an industrial people. Mission accomplished, Lord, what you claim for yourself is yours to admire, though I have to say it reminds me of the Israelites desert and makes me want to stay on course, lest I be sent to Wyoming for 40 years to wander!

We woke to a car covered with about 2-3 inches of snow, the roads look clear, but we are hoping the Ranch in Cheyenne full of the promise of animals, a train and a pond stocked with fishing success, is open and waiting to greet us.

Until next time...

A reading lamp!

2010-08-17T17:38:00.001-07:00

Need a reading lamp?

The pitcher did...so we

collected some favorite books, found a cheap lamp at a thrift store,

gathered some clamps and a hacksaw

sawed off the extra parts on the lamp shaft,
Cleaning up the pokey thingys.
clamped the books down,
drilled through the books,

put the books over the post

from largest to smallest,

here's the pitcher's choice of books...

Ta Da! Well, needs a little adjustment and tightening of "stuff", but the captain has some ideas and

"let there be light!"

In Jesus's Name...

2010-05-22T07:02:00.000-07:00

Two weeks home and Uganda is still on my mind, on my heart and not just my rearview mirror.

This morning I woke up, well first at 1:30am because the two boys living next door, who were so absolutely darling little misters as toddlers, have become bigger in stature, older on the calender, but still apparently in the center of the "coolest" of all social clubs...a regular target for the TP crowd.

Oh my word, the memories of our own 3 getting the joy of cleaning up the yard, week after week, roll after soggy, dew saturated roll of the single ply "snow". I remember the Captain retelling a story of a nearly-teenage young man he was following at the grocery checkout years ago.

Checker (wry smile) : "That's a lot of toiler paper you've got there!"

Man-Child: "Yes, my dad has gonorrhea". (possibly revealing some sort of recent school curriculum still fresh on his mind)

Checker (stifled chuckle): "Do you mean diarrhea?"

Man-Child: "um, oh ya"

I am guessing no matter what Dad's condition was, he probably did without that night in favor of one of the ultimate pre-teen compliments...

having landscaping adorned in bathroom tissue!

You can tell the age of the recipient, by the hour the honor is bestowed...next door has progressed from 10pm to 1:30am, and God bless the mama who has stayed up late enough to drive this gang. Seriously she will be forever remembered as the "coolest" mom in the bunch...except I am thinking that in 2010, she might be called "da bomb" and if there is really something more current than that, I'm just sorry.

Regardless, my own memories of the delight I was able to grant to my own and their friends will always be a sweet spot of parenting in days gone by. A few of my peers looked down their proper noses, I know, and my credibility was lost when I got behind the wheel of a mini van at midnight, or helped set up the hose so we could catch a retaliator... but for the record, so far my own 3 are fine, having risen above the weak parenting they were challenged with.

And, just in case my dear neighbors ever stumble across this posting, my 1:30am walk down the hall last night, to investigate my own "Mighty Dog on alert" was accompanied by a smile that reached back 15 years. Enjoy... say yes and know the memories are worth it to both generations of you...and we have plenty of extra room in our trash cans for the overflow!

Not at all where this post was going...hold on, I'm making a huge right turn.

Witch Doctors and the village of Kakira. I woke up this morning, with that thought burning in my everything. What on earth can be done?

What do I want to do?..For lack of a better explanation, "make a deal with darkness", except what I know is that there is no "deal making" with a liar.

But if I could go back tomorrow (and I am compelled) I would take some fat American dollars and buy back every banded baby in the village, the innocent infants and toddlers, marked for sacrifice, and redeem them for their families in Jesus name. Then I would put enough money in the hands of the family that they would never, never, never have to consider such an answer to desperate poverty or I'd want to buy them cows or seed or medicine or whatever it is that would guarantee they never face such an option. Then I would shove another handful of shillings at the Witch Doctors, themselves, in exchange for relocating, pack them myself and hire some Ugandan mafia equivalent to "help them get settled somewhere else". Oh you think I'm kidding.

I could only be less than obsessed, if each day I am gone from there, didn't represent a day closer to "the day" for a tiny child. The only comfort, and I use that term with absolute repulsion, is that I know the Savior himself will take his own, given in such a manner, with such power and swiftness, and then..."No more suffering"...this baby "is going to see the King", and there is plenty of room for every prince and princess in His presence.

But...still, that is no measurable amount of comfort, nothing to rest in, knowing it continues. And I also know that there is nothing "on Earth" that can stop it. It is a spiritual battle, manifested in humanness. Since Satan can't get to God himself, he will continue to pursue and seduce for his own possession, God's children and not just the young ones. Makes total sense don't you think that if you want to really get to me, hurt my children.

It is gonna get edgy now...buckle up.

Is it possible God would ever allow a small American woman to go back to Kakira and be able to make a stand with THE Redeemer against the Devil himself? Make an "appointment" with Kakira's doctor of death for an impressive stand by THE ruler of all Heaven and Earth?

Am I equipped to stand before such darkness?
"Greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world" 1 John 4:4

If Aaron, a 5 year old, can speak the word that causes our enemy to fear and flee, "Jesus", couldn't others come along side in a bold, rebuking stand?

I admit, I went with open ears, compassion, love and a message and most of what I know even of the Christians in Kakira was from listening, not asking. Even with the curiousity of a news journalist, I felt lead toward sensitivity this trip, so I don't really know how it is being dealt with.

More time, more opportunity for one on one, more understanding might wipe the naivete right out of my mind and I'd know that a mighty stand and prayer warriors fight this battle more moments than I think about it. I pray it is so, but would like them to report in as each child is taken back, thank you so much.

Its just the black bands...interesting don't you think that a dark skinned child is marked with a black band? A subtle marking. Just a little black band, around the middle, claiming territory and victory, nothing flashy, just a subtle reminder to anyone close...this one is mine. I shudder at the power in the claim, not ultimate, but certainly some dominion in this age.

Our Pastor on Sunday drew such a picture of our world with that image. Oh we cannot see the band, but people are marked just the same. If only we could see it that way and rush to them, like I am drawn back to Kakira, to save and rescue and redeem, in Jesus name, why we don't bolt to tell the lost about the Savior, the Rescuer, the Redeemer. Like I cried over the babies, Pastor Bob cried for the rest. Christ grieves over them all.

God help us. Help us to know when and how to reach out and then give us the perspective and courage to make a stand for life from the clutches of death. The deal has been made. Christ's life for ours. No fat American anything would redeem like He already has. Its done, its just that free will lives on, desperation lives on.

And in Jesus's name and for his sake I have seen and cannot forget about the black bands...

Uganda 2010 - Day 15

2010-05-05T18:52:00.000-07:00

Having spent the night in Mbarara after the day long visit with Ruth, Fred, my driver and photographer of every move I make and I pulled out of the motel about 7:30am, just as the coffee and toast had arrived to my room. But Fred was on a mission, so I grabbed my things and looked longingly at the caffeine I knew I would need for the day…and walked out the door of the “Holiday Inn”. Saying goodbye to Ruth the day before, began the leaving behind of Uganda and a trip I will never forget.
I was exhausted and we still had 9 long hours of driving ahead. Fred knew that the rest of our team was on a game drive while I detoured to see Compassion’s prize and being so
“Fred” he wanted to make sure I got to do everything Uganda had to offer me. He kept pointing things out all day for me to take pictures of and had arranged for us to make a loop through a national park hoping to see something exotic-ish, animal-ish. The drive in was grueling and I am still feeling the muscle soreness of the last 3 days on Uganda’s roads. After about an hour, we paid for entrance and though I wanted to say…please can we just go to the hotel, he had zebra’s on his mind and lunch at the lake restaurant. We did see some of the striped horses and a very few small monkeys, the nation’s bird and a few other small creatures, I am too tired to describe. But Fred wanted to make my trip complete, so onward to the lake. It was peaceful.
As we left the national park it was about 4pm which meant we wouldn’t get to the hotel until after 9pm. I still had souveniers to purchase for my family so he stopped

so I could shop…well at the equator, you know, of the globe, the world…what? Everyone doesn’t shop at the equator?
Of course, my own personal paparazzi snapped more pictures, even as I walked for “short call”.

As usual, when a Muzungu is in the area, the children come running in fascination.

Whatever it is that brings them, I don’t really care, as long as they come. This particular group wanted to try on the bracelet that the Deeds had given me for Valentines Day. So we spent about 10 minutes obliging them. Then it hit…I just want to be home now. Mission accomplished, which makes the next 5+ hours challenging. Sitting forward, unable to rest my head on anything with all the bouncing and weaving, I looked forward to a shower, a bed, some water and sleep.
The room at the hotel where I was to meet the team Wednesday morning, was beautiful and crazy extravagant, considering where I had just come from. Can I just say, no body needs 3 separate light switches for the bathroom lighting alone.
For some reason as the exhaustion set in and my body was finally able to relax, sleep didn’t come, blogging did.
Finally, heavy eyes gave way to a good 6 hours of sleep, and though I had showered the night before, I decided to soak in the tub, as I tried to soak in the past 15 days. It was the day to say goodbye to Africa, to new friends, grateful for a new perspective and for the way I have been changed…until next time…
Lord you are worthy of worship,
Worthy of praise,
Worthy of honor
You’re worthy of thanks,
Keep them close to your heart. Nurture the seeds that were planted in your name and sow in them for a harvest the glorifies you, the God of my home and the God of theirs. Thank you for allowing your broken vessels to serve you here.

Goodbye, Uganda.

Uganda 2010- Monday Day 14- Meeting Ruth

2010-05-04T20:36:00.000-07:00

Somewhere a monkey is having a good laugh. I lost my glasses while driving through a National Park on the way back to Entebbe, so picture me sitting in front of my laptop with the font set to 20 and the page zoom a 200%. I am squinting so hard, the Captain may think his wife has actually returned from an Asian country.

Monday May 3, 2010

Arriving in Mbarara Sunday evening, I kept my promise to my family and stayed in my room for the evening, ordering room service and listening to the Brooklyn Tabernacle choir on my computer. The next day was the day I was going to meet Ruth. I had no idea what the day ahead had in store, but apparently my body did, because I sleep really well. Fred, my driver, loaded our things into the van and directed me to go to the office to pay the bill. 82,500 shillings, about $40.00 dollars and that would be for my room service, the driver’s meal and two hotel rooms for the night.
We got in the van and headed to purchase a pair of shoes for Ruth. The only shoe store Fred new about, has shoes, but he said the quality was not good. So he called the Compassion director from Ruth’s project and she was on her way anyway to meet us and told us to wait. We sat in the parking lot of gas station and about an hour later she arrived. She took me to buy the shoes, and then we went next door to purchase supplies for the project itself; paper, crayons, highlighters a football (soccer), net ball (basketball) and a pump to keep them up and rolling. Then we headed out. But oh my word…about an hour on a paved road and then another 2 hours on dirt roads, full of potholes and when I say potholes, I mean everywhere and 6-18” deep, and deep ruts. The driver is constantly jerking the van back and forth from one side of the road to the other,the deep ruts and potholes, providing the bouncing. Let me just say that I have become very aware of every muscle that keeps us upright and bobble head dolls.... they are my people.
3 hours later we arrived.
This post could be a novel, describing everything I saw and felt, but I am going to try to hit the highlights for now.
The project center sat on the top of a hill overlooking a valley that was lush and green. Cows and goats meandered on the road and I got a kick out of the ones that reminded me of myself. Most would vocalize exactly how they felt about their inconvenience, but a few just turned to the bus, squared up and gestured stubbornness with their head and long horns. Alas, the van won each time, but “if looks could kill”…
The project itself was quiet, but Ruth and 4 staff members were there. It was all I could do to get out of the van. Ruth is beautiful and at about 5’10” tall, the stature of this young lady could have been regal, except that she was so humble, and quiet. She couldn’t stop smiling, but as women here are taught, she held her emotions in perfect check.
She is sweet, quiet but smiling ear to ear between trying to hide her enthusiasm. She does speak English, but when you hear that in Uganda, it can mean everything from understanding just a couple of nouns or names, to being able to translate. I was just blubbering, so we were on an even plane with our verbal communication. We hugged first, then pulled back to look at each other then hugged again, and over and over. It was just a moment that can’t be adequately described. For a woman with many words, I am so lacking in any that can describe my heart in those first moments. And if I can just say that Fred, my driver, was like the closest thing to paparazzi Uganda will find. It seemed he was as moved as any of us. More about Fred later.
As is the custom, I was taken in right away to a brick building, concrete floor, crude fixtures and furniture, but all the different foods that they could serve to a special visitor. I was first offered milk, which means hot milk, from the cow in one thermos and a second thermos filled with hot water. Then the question, how much water do you want with the milk, you tell us. Huh? Then I realized, that rather than drink the straight rich milk, they dilute it according to my liking. Then offered me a tea bag or some sort of chocolate granules, which ever I would prefer. Ruth had chocolate, I chose tea. Then cracker type cookies they call biscuits. Then even though there were 5 women at the table, the Pastor, who wore the dress of an American priest, began greeting me and questioning me about different things. Very quickly I realized that the quietness of the Ugandan female voice, is quite a contrast to my enthusiasm and flowery explainations. I mentioned that fact to him and he said, “Yes, why is it that American women are like that? I believe it is the freedom of the women in your country.” Ah, jeez, here we go, I believe that too, but the thought has never felt more obnoxious than this particular moment. I felt as if Ruth's father was sitting before me. He asked about American marriage and how it goes with young people that would like to marry. I explained that for the most part, we allow them to choose each other. That the most respectful of young men will talk to their family and then to the father of the bride to ask for permission. But they can choose and marry without permission. He asked about the bride price in America...ya...not so much. He told me that Uganda was moving towards marrying out of love and choosing, rather than the family's financial desperation. He talked about how many cows Ruth would be worth and said infront of her, that if she finishes her education, she would be worth more for her family, that her beauty was worth something, her strength and her education.
This compassion project runs this way. Children are located through churches, and when I say churches, I mean huts that are maybe the size of a bedroom or large hotel room, here and there along the road. This particular area seems really remote by my standards, except that I know there are places that have no roads at all. Once they are selected, they are registered, the parent is interviewed and the family situation is evaluated to make sure the child will be available enough to stay in school. The sponsorship money we send to Ruth, $38.00 a month, provides a boarding school for her where she attends for 3 months, then has a month off to go home and see her family. She does not live at home, and she does not get schooling at the project. All the children come on Saturday to the site, for games, singing, teaching etc... In other words, this is not a replacement for the parents, but their 2 on site staff members and 2 volunteers work tirelessly checking with the boarding schools, encouraging the child in their faith, and making sure the parent or family
has help and support when a situation arises. If there is a need for medical help, Compassion will help and has additional funds for these types of things. The director was telling me about young woman that has been flown to India for two heart surgeries and goes to Kampala once a month to the doctor for a check up and medication. She will continue to be taken care of until she is 22, assuming she stays qualified for the program. After that, there will be no support for her medical needs unless God connects her to the financial support for the $150.00 per month expense related to the 7 hour travel, doctor visit and medications.
Anyway, back to Ruth. Once the Pastor excused us from the meal and offered a blessing on our visit, he instructed the staff to give me a tour, with Ruth leading the way. I was told that I was the first visitor ever to this particular project and so they were as excited as I was. I can tell you that the project was little more than what looks like a deserted, very old farm and with the mud and cow dung buildings, broken brick church...they are so happy with it and so grateful. After the tour, it was time to get in the van and travel to Ruth's home. Two women staff members, Ruth, Fred the driver and me.
We drove and we drove and we drove, another hour at least, deeper into the hills. Averaging about 15 miles per hour because of the roads and it dawned on me that Ruth being home on school break, had travelled from her home to the project to be there by 8:30 in the morning. I asked how she got from home from the project to wait for me? She walked...yes she walked. It took her about 3 hours, which means she left her home alone at 5:30 in the morning, and walked for 3 hours to meet me. Who am I do be honored so much. That a 16 year old child would do such a thing for a woman who has no ability to understand the length and depth of such gratitude . I don't know when the last time was that you spent $38.00, but I stopped at a road side stand yesterday to buy souveneirs and spent twice that on trinkets.
Ok, back to Ruth... We arrived to her home, which because of the lush green landscape appeared to be tiny, but welcoming. Somehow I thought Ruth's family was her mother, and two girls and one boy. But on the drive they told me that Ruth's mother had 10 children, 5 boys and 5 girls. Ruth is #9 and her 13 year old sister Edith, the last. Once the van stopped, people started pouring out of the house to see this American woman, they would treat like a celebrity. You know I was looking for her 62 year old mother, Kellen, 'cause this mother's heart needed to lock eyes, arms and heart with the one that has done the hard part and made the sacrifices to raise a child we share such commitment to.
Oh my word, you can picture it I hope, because finally, finally I happened upon a Ugandan woman that cries with happiness. We grabbed hold of each other and neither one wanted to let go. Hug, cry, pull back and look into each other's faces, hug some more, cry some more. How will I ever find relief from the fullness of such affection.
We were escorted into the living room, that was the size of my master bathroom at home. The 10 or so women and girls, (Ruth's brother lives on the property, so there were cousins ranging from 5 -10) sat tightly on the couches chairs and I was presented with the honoring gesture of a meal, set on the "coffee table". Soda pop in bottles and water in bottles, biscuits, bananas and Ruth pulled out a photo album of pictures of herself at school, with friends, family members etc...I bet there were 100 or so, the first 5 or 6 were pictures I had sent of our family with the letters.
Then each of the younger girls got up to sing a song for me,

sweet quiet voices, not rehearsed, but an offering of what they had. I sang back to them

, "jesus loves the little children". I just know I was beaming because I am still stuck in that moment, (except that my eyes are more squinty because of the glasses thing.)
Then a tour of the home and cooking building, Kellen's room, the dining area and the water tank that collects water off the tin roof of the home, then a faucet sticking out of it. They were so excited to show me how it works.
I was shown a small hut with thatched roof where the mild is stored in special goard type containers, and I was caught off guard when I noticed a hen laying in the back, very still. "Is it alive?" I asked them. They got such a kick out of that, because duh! what on earth would they be doing with a stuffed life like chicken? "She is brooding, laying her egg". Chickens and me...we have so much in common...but that's another post.
Back to the house we went and it was time for gifts from me to them. I am going to tell you that when Fred brought in the "Home basket" which is actually a cardboard box, that had been taped up at the grocery store, Kellen was so happy and grateful and I was so humbled and embarrassed at the extravagance it represented. I just don't want to be a rich American woman in this place. I want to be like them, not above them. Ugh, how do I do that and still respond with what I can give?
When we first arrived, I gave Kellen her heart necklace that said "Mom" and one for Ruth that had 2 hearts connected. Kellen said she had never worn a necklace before. I gave Ruth a small photo album with current pictures of our family and a box of beads for jewelry making. I had a mug made that everyone, even the Compassion staff, was so fascinated with. It was Shutterfly and had a collage of pictures of our family and Ruth on it.
I opened my suitcase and just started pulling out clothing.

Everything I had brought on the trip to wear myself and several new blouses that had been sent from friends at home. The shoes that I had been wearing. It was like Christmas, each item I pulled out, they looked at and passed to the one who wanted it or was the best fit. Four brothers that stood on the porch outside, each got a baseball

tshirt and they all put on the clothing right away over whatever they had on. Each item that Kellen showed interest in, was offered to her first. Its too much. Too much, that my cast offs are treasures...that something I purchased at the Thrift store to wear here, brings such celebration. Then I felt let to give Kellen a silver bracelet I was wearing, which caused her to cry again. I told her, the shiney silver was far more beautiful on her skin than mine.
Then I don't know what got into me, but before I left home, I purchased a band from Kohl's to wear as a wedding band so that I could leave my own ring at home.
I took it off, looked into Ruth's eyes, told her that I would pray always for a man that would love Jesus and her, honor her, respect her, care for her, provide for her. I told her to always protect her body, keeping it pure until a man that was worthy of her, would marry her. That she was valuable to God, to her mother and to me. I took the ring off my left hand and had her put it on her right hand until the day when a wonderful man replaced it. Ya, I know, God is such an orchestrator and I was so, so, so blessed.
Who am I, that my God would love me that much.
Fred made us take tons of pictures and I was so grateful for the digital age and the monster memory card my brother gave me with the camera. Fred wore out the batteries on the smaller camera back at the project. Oh Fred, you were such a blessing to me.
Then Kellen asked me to pray over their family. I am not worthy to be the one. But God is, and as broken as my past has been, He is the God of redemption and if he can use a small american woman to bless a family and speak to God on their behalf...I needed to surrender to be his representative and an intercessor for them. Yes I am bawling right now, retelling it. I just don't deserve such joy, immeasurable, overflowing, amazing joy.
I prayed for their protection, for the protection of the girls, for health and strength for the grown boys (who are responsible to this family since the death of Ruth's father in 1999.) That God would make himself known to them every single day and that as we seperated in body, that he would bind our hearts together across the globe. The God of America is the God of Uganda...
Fred directed more pictures and I will be embarrassed that he took so many of them receiving gifts, because it is humbling to know that what I gave was no sacrifice at all.
There came a time to leave and yes I waited as long as I could. Fred said we could stay as long as we wanted to. Ya, well maybe not really as long as I wanted to, but I am so grateful for a family back home to pull my heart back home.
I'm going to post this without pictures for now, then add the photos later, so check back, but I am down to last few hours here and my last $2.50. I have no jewelry left, no clothes except what I will be wearing on the plane and they aren't even clean. So if you could pray for those sitting next to me on the 48 hour journey home, they would be most grateful I am sure.
We are just about done with our mission in Uganda. You have done a good work here servants, by your giving to send us, by your praying to protect and strength us, by loving our Savior enough to keep walking on.
Let's stay in this thing until we our lay down heads for the last time. He is so worth it

Uganda 2010 day 13

2010-05-04T13:52:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning at 8:15am my driver arrived at the hotel in Jinja to pick me up. We will be travelling across Southern Uganda together about 9 hours total. Me, a man that no one knows, a third world country, and a van that the driver must turn the key an average of 20 times, resulting in a click and nothing else before it actually starts. Yep…I’m afraid I may have just moved up the prayer request list a couple of notches.
Scott Harrell told me this morning they wanted to pray with us before we left and that he was going to talk to this driver the way a father would to a man coming to date his daughter the first time.
Fred arrived and I felt instantly at ease. Everyone gathered around us to pray and we were sent off.

Poor Fred…an American woman with a lot of words, a curiosity that won’t stop and 9 hours in the same car. I noticed after about 45 minutes, he asked if I wanted to hear Ugandan Christian music. I think that was code for, "how bout we listen and stop talking." and when I say "we" I think he might have been thinking about me.

That lasted for about an hour, until I figured out where the volume button was and how to turn it down so he could hear me ask another question he has probably answered a thousand times. When his IPOD came out, I took the hint. Well, until I realized I could shout at him and he would take one of the ear pieces out. We stopped for lunch and shared some stories about our lives and how we came to know Christ.

In the van was one thing, facing forward…face to face over a table with this very gentle man…just made me miss mine. The last 3 hours turned into 4 when I asked if we could maybe stop to pass out some dresses and shirts when we saw a child alone on the road or a house within sight where children were. “Oh yes, whatever you want, you just tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” AWESOME! I’m just going to post the pictures he took because, honestly there were few words spoken because of language and the pictures really do tell it better than I could.

They were way back at their house when we pulled up

and I was prepared to walk to them, but by the time we put a hair tie and plastic bag where the gas cap was before the last 100 potholes, they had walked up to the road to us.

I LOVE this one,

because that baby girl was having just a couple of thoughts about me don’t you think? I was able to give the mom a skirt and t shirt from what I brought and by the time we got back in the van, she had both items on over her own clothes.

At the next stop, we found 3 women and two young girls. Oh my word what fun it was. AD you are blessing some darlin’s in Uganda!

We arrived in Mbarara about 5pm. I cracked up at myself when we pulled up to the Holiday Inn. I thought the whole time that it was so funny to travel so far away, only to stay at an American Hotel, but I figured, the Compassion team just wanted to make us feel comfortable and safe. Duh…Holiday means vacation and Inn just means hotel…

Here is the reality of where we are. But you know me, the greater adventure, the better.

And honestly after the bricks from Saturday...even without a toilet seat, I'm good!

We checked in and for the first time in a very long while, I feel like I just want to stay safely in my room. Its not a threatening place at all, I just want to be ready for tomorrow. Fred asked if I was up to going to the store for the things I wanted to bring to Ruth’s family tomorrow. Well, YES I was. The grocery store was about the size of a very small 7-11. He has done this so many times with other visitors, that I told him to get whatever he thought was a good idea. He chose sugar, flour, clothes rice, washing bars, body washing bars, shampoo, lotion, tea, toothpaste boxes for each member of the family with the toothbrushes inside. I chose cookies, candy, had the young lady at the counter select a perfume and whispered in her ear that I wanted to take Ruth those “panties”. She slipped around the counter and bagged them separately. We added gum and juice and anything else Fred even stopped to gaze at. He would look and I would say “yes, they need that”.

Oh my word I am getting so excited. I have no idea what to expect. Fred has told me that the children don’t go to the project site during the week because they go to school. So as long as I get to stretch my arms and heart around this 16 year old girl…I will be in heaven. There are 250 children helped by this particular project site and Fred pointed out about 3 of them along just the one route we took today. I told him that American women cry with emotion and joy. Well lets get real, I told him just about everything I know, while he was trapped in the van for 9 hours driving across a country that probably used to seem much smaller than today. Anyway, he said most American women cry and the children understand. Nevertheless, please pray that I can hold myself together because seriously, I could cry a river just thinking about locking eyes.
And…my video camera that just stopped working yesterday?…started right up today when I changed the tape out! I asked Fred if he knew how to video tape and take pictures and he said “Of course, this is part of what I do for you! You visit and I take the pictures!” It’s all too much for this heart of mine and I am not even there yet.
The internet is down, so I realize that by the time I get this up and going, I may be in the air coming home. But until I have downloaded the emotions of today…I can’t possibly have room for tomorrow without bursting.
Can I just say thanks to my girlfriends who sent along the Starbucks instant coffee? Tonight for the first time, tucked into my hotel room, I ordered a pot of hot water and am livin’ large for a few moments. I haven’t seen one American chain like Starbucks or McDonalds, which is kind of refreshing. But that coffee gave me just a little bit of home. I miss you so much and I keep picturing us all here together. I believe you would really love Fred and he would run for the hills with even the thought of a whole van full of us. But that is not a fact limited to Ugandan men…our "appeal" is global that way!

I think today was take your goat to work day.

Seriously…Vons and Ralphs could learn a few things about their produce presentation.

Until tomorrow…

Uganda 2010- Day 12

2010-05-04T13:26:00.000-07:00

The girls loved trying on my glasses..."I look smart" (smart meaning fashionable, not intelligent) well, except in my case!

Friday evening we learned that the men and women of Kakiira had intended to have us one last time, all together, the men and the women, for what we would call a wrap up. We had not expected to have any responsibilities on Saturday and would just be resting up and preparing for Sunday, when the men had been asked to go to some of the different churches that had sent leaders to the conference.
Instead we were up early and off to the village one last time for more than we ever expected. They greeted us and then escorted us to the left side of the stage where we sat, facing the large crowd, throughout the meeting. The men sat in the first rows, the women in the back rows. It seems normal even to us at this point. Each of us was asked to get up and summarize our teaching and thoughts of the week, to the more than 500+ crowd, "briefly".Yes I was, Amen and Hallelujah, Africa has taught me something. Don't start celebrating just yet, I believe it will be fleeting. But enjoy the thought of it, even if you don’t get to experience it.
I have to admit, I am thinking with a Ugandan accent. My family is not the least bit surprised, as I have been caught doing that in the past, on the phone with relatives from “don’t ja know” kind of states and acquaintances with Asian accents etc…I have yet to lapse into Spanish here in order to find a way of communicating, except that I did say “Si” to two young boys on the street early in my trip. Duh!
Anyway, after we each summarized, the five men in our group answered questions that had been submitted throughout the week by the men at their conference. Many of the questions had to do with areas in scripture that contradicted their culture. Let me tell you I so admired the way our pastors spoke the truth to these men, straight from God’s word, even when you know it was going to challenge their way of life. Taking to heart and living out God’s direction causes US discomfort, but when the men here are expected to treat their wives a certain way, manage their homes a certain way and what represents their manhood and strength to those around them, must be laid down in order to honor God…that is huge. Like most places, when God changes the men, a woman is changed, a family is changed, a church is changed, a community is changed and an entire country can be changed…all for the Glory of the one who loves us so, and came to create some CHANGE.
A few of the questions were…”What does the bible say about having two wives?” “If I have children with a woman before I am born again, then marry another, what are my responsibilities to the woman and children?” “I have heard that American Christians drink alcohol, how is that ok with the scriptures?”
“How are you saying I should care for my children, when it is the woman’s place?” “Should women be teaching in the church?” “Should I give up my job in order to serve in my church?” …Ya! I know. How would you like to be the person that explains to a man that has been beating his wife, he should actually be loving her and serving her and helping to train and love the children?”
But here’s the deal. These men have been called by God to lead and teach in their home churches or they want to begin a new church and some of what the bible tells them is so opposite of what they know culturally that they need to be fully equipped to be able to support and prove with scripture, every revolutionary idea and practice that will be preached. And it will be preached, no doubt. Every one of them sat with full attention and interest, taking notes like they were going to go out and report to everyone exactly what they need to do.
They don’t want to avoid the hard stuff, they are spirit led to begin teaching the whole truth without reservation or compromise.
The question and answer time went on smoothly and amazingly for 2 hours, and like everything else, it flew by. I couldn’t help but be so grateful for the investment of experience and knowledge that had been poured into these men all week, knowing that the women we had come to love and shared hearts with, may just be heading for something in their homes they haven’t even known to dream of.
A woman, who is loved, loves and gives freely, abundantly, sacrificially and with joy. One that has been taken from, burdened, and oppressed, serves out of fear, feeling everyday like rather than giving, something is being taken from her until she can continue only because, to quit, would be a disgrace to herself, her children and she would be so severely disciplined, she has little choice.

They were so excited to have an American woman to pray for. Cristin and Shannon did a great job of having all 200+ women at the conference submit their own prayer requests and took their picture so that we will have bookmarks of them, their faces and requests for the next year. Their requests of God kind of put us to shame. They have a huge idea of God’s power and problems that require that kind of God to heal. I just have a feeling we will be overwhelmed by what we see God do on both sides of the planet.
I was slipped two sweet gifts yesterday. Wrapped in special paper…they mean so much. If you could only know Janet, you would understand. I doubt I will ever be able to explain how she changed me and the thought of her grace and faith and humility, will continue to do so.
I felt so moved by God when I saw Olivia’s prayer request in her own writing…”please pray for me, I am an orphan. Please pray that God will provide my school fees”. I slipped a note to Janet at the end of the day on Friday, about 6pm, she was one that met with us until about 10pm Friday evening and somehow by Saturday morning she had gone to Olivia’s house, met with her grandmother and told me she was going to follow up with the headmaster of Olivia’s school at the beginning of the term and would somehow through Pastor Scott, get a message to me about it. She did this sometime between 10:30pm and 9am.
I was able to print out on regular paper at the hotel a couple of the pictures of Olivia, fold them up and put them into a black plastic bag with a blouse. Since she wore the same clothes every single day this week, I can only imagine it filled a need and hopefully let her know that she is so very special to me. Janet said she would give them to her at a time when the other children wouldn’t realize. See what I mean…Janet.
Back at the hotel, I remembered John telling us that Moses, one of the men attending the conference takes of 2 young sisters and 6 boys that live next door. I was so excited to be able to give him the baseball shirts and two dresses and he was so appreciative. Thanks AD and Sportime. Our team had dinner together and shared a brief statement about the week; I went back to my room, sorted through both suitcases in preparation to leave the team Sunday morning when my driver from Compassion is supposed to pick me up. I can’t wait. The only thing that helps me get through leaving Jinja, Kakiira and the team is getting to go visit my Ruth. We’ll enjoy that together as best I can describe it. Until then…
We did have a new bathroom experience today. The men’s stall is a hole in the concrete, the women have the deluxe addition of two bricks to sit on and I do think the pink walls was a thoughtful choice. Using the restroom is really more accurately described as yoga in the dark, at least for the female side of humanity. I don’t really want to talk about why there is a small broom in the corner. But Adventure?…I’m all about it!

Uganda 2010 - Day 11

2010-05-04T13:20:00.000-07:00

Monday Update

2010-05-03T09:17:00.000-07:00

Hi there, this is Kristen. There is no internet where my mom is, so she asked that I post some info for y'all!

She made it safely to visit Ruth, our Compassion child. She and Fred (the driver from Compassion) traveled most of the day Sunday and they had a great time listening to African praise music. She is staying in what they say is a "really nice hotel" but that we would consider it a slum. She got to spend the whole day Monday with Ruth. Tonight she is going to spend the night at the Compassion headquarters and then travel tomorrow back to Entebbe to meet back up with the rest of the UTMI group. They will fly out Wednesday back to Dubai and be back to home sweet home on Thursday. She is very, very tired and feels like she has aged 10 years while being there. She's had an amazing time and is so so thankful to every one of you for your support and prayers. She'll post more when she can.

Love to you all,

Kristen

Uganda 2010- Day 10

2010-04-30T21:26:00.000-07:00

It rained so much Thursday evening, our bus slid off the road and into a small but very muddy ditch...Everyone had to get out and help, except they wouldn't allow the american women off to help or take a chance on getting hurt...geeze...totally not my style...submission, not my strong point.

Friday began with such excitement. Our final day of teaching and being just women together. Saturday is our last time in Jinja, but the men will join us for a time together to wrap up the week and I think probably leave these precious believers with a challenge to keep growing and to now go out and share what they have learned. Leaving them in the hands of their BIG God will make it easier but I am sure very emotional at least for the American women.

As I prepared for this trip, I was responsible for 5 lessons but only felt like God gave me 4. Unlike my usual type A-ish personality, I did not force the last and what a blessing that has turned out to be.

Unknown to us, this conference was scheduled on a week when the children did not have school. There were so many in the back the first day with no one to entertain them, that Cristin and Shannon have taken them out for the morning session Tues-Thurs and taught them Jesus loves me and another, that slips my mind.

Just before that Cristin Harrell got up to share with them that children are a gift from the Lord, a blessing and a joy. She shared honestly that some times she wants to pull their hair out with them, but that she recognizes her God given responsibility to love them as Christ would, and teach them. So just before lunch about 40 children paraded in, stood on the dirt floor before their mothers and grandmothers etc and sang to them. What a great moment it was. I am praying that mothers will really take the message she gave to heart. Caning is the way they are disciplined and it is harsh by our standards. The older women in the church poke and push and swat at the children to quiet them or send them away. The children don't seem upset by it, but in our small group discussion I did get the question "if we don't want to discipline the way our mothers and grandmothers did, what can we do?" This is such an example of these women and their open hearts to the teaching, the biblical standards and taking the lessons very literally.

Each day we have taken more and more people on the bus with us to and from the village. So everyday I have an opportunity to meet someone new and hear their story. Thursday’s ride home, I got to sit and meet Loid, a girl who is 13. She has a mother and father who are both Christians and 3 younger brothers. I wish I could tell you all the details, but briefly she has a brother Aaron who is 5. Aaron pretends to be a preacher and then says after he preaches, “Sister, it is now praise and worship” One night a witch doctor came into their home and began choking the mother. Aaron heard it came into the room and said “Witch doctor, I’m going to get my bible, I am going to tell my Jesus, You go!” and the Witch doctor left. A few days later, the Witch doctor came and did the same thing to his father. Again Aaron heard and came in the room and told him “Witch doctor, you go again! I’m going to get my bible, I am going to tell my Jesus, You Go!” and again this 5 year old sent the Witch doctor away. Now when the witch doctor sees Aaron in the village, he runs away. Amen and Hallelujah! How awesome is that. And I’m not asking a question here…That is an amazing display of God’s anointing.

And then there is Olivia. A 13 year old girl, who is an orphan. Here an orphan means that both parents are dead. Her's died 3 and 4 years ago. She lives with her grandmother and her younger brother. She caught my eye early in the week and has stayed within my view all week. In the same clothes each day, so she is easy to spot. She sat through each session taking notes and as I scan the room when others are speaking, I have caught her time after time staring at me. The first few days she would drop her head shyly, but after a few smiles and secret winks, she now beams. Yesterday, there was a time when several women had asked if they could come up and sing, not to us, but they just want to praise Jesus publically. Olivia came up and began singing in English "Soon, yes very soon, we are going to see the king" Every verse.."No more crying then, we are going to see the king..." I jumped up like a proud mother, took my video camera and sat on the floor in front like against a post, as she sang with such power andconviction, yet so humbly and I was a mess. "No more crying there..." Jesus help my breaking heart. It is so difficult to give anything to anyone, because they are all in need and such jealousy can occur. But oh my heart. I had a small spiral note pad I brought for note taking and wrote her a note in the back on the inside cardboard cover. Slipped it to her all the while guaging her size with my suitcase...if only.

My next few days will be a journey to visit Ruth, my Compassion child...here's the mapI'm travelling from the Eastern most Advil to the Southern most Advil on Sunday, Monday morning to the pain reliever just north of that, thm to the two toned capsule on Tuesday...look you gotta go with what you've got when your in Uganda, (or CSULA)...gotta run...leaving for our last morning in the village...love you all so. Pray for Olivia...she is a precious amazing young girl.

Uganda 2010 Day 9

2010-04-29T23:17:00.000-07:00

By Thursday, things are really into a routine. I have to admit the internet has a hold on us that makes me laugh. We have all but given up the wireless signal we enjoyed in our rooms the first few days and pace ourselves to a routine that means we stand dressed and waiting for the internet office downstairs to open at 8am, slip in for a stretched 30 minutes of face to screen time with our electronic friend. Then pull ourselves or each other away for our 8:30 meeting, conveniently in the dining room, so we don’t waste an extra minute. Then when the meeting is over, we can race back to the internet room for a few minutes before getting on the bus at 9:30am. In our defense, because reading this makes me feel like we need some, it takes about 10 minutes for the AOL sign in screen to appear and another 5 minutes to get to the mail. FACEBOOK seems to be a little quicker, and I have seen the attendants in the room logged on to it every time I’m in there. When we return at the end of the day, some dash from the bus, at 6:30 or so, trying to catch loved ones to Skype before your work day begins, or checking in for a message from home. With 8 mamas in the group, I guess we feel like we need to make sure someone is holding down the fort at home.
Everyone was able to make the trip to Kakiira yesterday. I have to admit, that if you all would stand down my hallway in the morning to smile and greet me like the women and children of Kakiira do when we arrive, I do believe it could help with some might powerful work at home also.
I was first up yesterday, teaching on “the woman caught in adultery”, John 8. We have spent extra time each day talking about the setting and the characters in the passages. The adulterous woman, caught “in the act” was dragged into the temple to stand before a huge crowd and accused. The purpose was to trap Jesus, but we looked at the situation from the woman’s point of view. Humiliated, vulnerable, exposed, in her worst moment standing before the public and her sin was announced. She knew what the law said and that her death by stoning was eminent, people watching may have already been holding the rocks in anticipation, their eyes fixed on her shame…and Jesus, without speaking, allowed the crowd’s own conviction, to take them away. Then he offered her grace and truth…perfectly balanced.
Instead of the death she deserved, he gave her new life.
I challenged them to identify both with the adulterous woman and then with one standing in the crowd, stone raised, yelling, accusing. Women in Kakiira and women in America share the same tendencies…we can be so harsh on our sisters rather than coming along side them to enable them the grace and love to change. We’d much rather raise our brows, whisper, withhold relationship, than support them through becoming different. In our small group discussions each group seems to have its own personality and direction. Mine wanted to know some simple truths like “if someone doesn’t forgive you do you still go to heaven?” “Do they still go to heaven?” “How do you protect yourself from rumors?”…then “how old are you?” and then amazed, because for heaven’s sake working outdoors and so hard for so long…they look much older than their years. They wanted to know what I ate, what I put on my face, if I plowed the ground and did digging.
We had three afternoon sessions, two young girls came into sing for us. Friday the kids will come in to sing “Jesus loves me” and “I’ve got a river of life”.
I spent the lunch time, with ½ tube of hand cream, began walking around the room and putting a tiny bit on each hand that was offered. 200 women and probably 75 children wanted to try the “grease” and had never seen such a thing. I showed them how to rub it in and then came upon the last woman who looked to be nearly 80. I have no idea her age, really, but she was tiny and calloused and her eyes were weak, but bright. I just felt God leading, so I sat down on the bench beside her and slowly took one hand, and then the other, put cream in each one, and began to rub it in, massaging it into her palm and then each finger. It was a moment I won’t soon forget. We had no common words, just this gesture. She hung her head watching the whole time and when I was finished, she looked at me, smiled and nodded. When I got up to leave, I noticed that about 6 of them women close by had been watching and smiling. “Bless you” one of them said, and I pray that it was some tangible way for them to know that we are their servants and that they can be tender to one another. How God will use that image for them, I don’t know, maybe not at all, maybe it was just a gift for me. We try so hard to capture each scene on our cameras in order to bring every part of Uganda home with us, but I fear the best will have to remain images on our hearts instead.
Yesterday it sunk in for most of us that we are leaving soon. The only thing that makes it easier is that I leave here to visit my Ruth. One of the staff members got a map for me and I can see where I am going. Some of the rest of the group will be travelling North as I am traveling west and we will meet in Entebbe to fly home. I met a woman last night from Uganda and familiar with the Compassion projects, she has suggested I take Ruth a dress, shoes and some “panties”. I haven’t seen the latter here, and I think I will forego asking my Ugandan driver to help me find some ladies “panties”. Until tomorrow….

Uganda 2010 Day 8

2010-04-28T22:35:00.000-07:00

Wednesday April 28^th, 2010 marks one week gone and the mid point in our conference week. We are all starting to get attached to individual women, as they are to different ones of us. Shannon and Cristin have been taking the children out for part of the day to quiet our room just a little, but honestly there are still babies and toddlers in the room and I rarely hear a peep from them or see a woman distracted trying to keep them occupied. I’m not sure how they achieve such self control in their children at such a young age. I have seen no toys, nothing to entertain them. Mamas seem eager to have us hold them by walking up and offering them to us. So far 3 little ones have cried and held tight to their mothers when they see my white face and hands getting too close.

Two of our team stayed back at the hotel suffering with heat exhaustion or dehydration. I have to say that God has sustained me and protected me from either of those things, no headaches, no stomach issues with the food, no fatigue really. Thanks for praying those things for me. But with two women short, our small groups were larger and probably about 20 women in each. I must not ask the questions right, because they are so interested in counseling type questions, rather than going over the topics that have been taught.

Today they asked me “if I am having dreams, are they from God or the Devil?” “What things do American women struggle with?”, “What is birth control and how does it work?” (ya, I know. You are scared because you know how open I am which is exactly why I was scared to death trying to answer them truthfully and still be culturally sensitive, ya, I know!) “If I am married and then I am born again, do I have to divorce my husband who is not a Christian?” You know, easy stuff like that.

When you ask them if they have ever encountered God in a personal way, my word the miraculous things they have experienced make our jaws drop.

Praise and worship is interspersed throughout the day as well as an open microphone for women to share what they have learned or an experience that they remember where the topic would apply, i.e. forgiveness, grace etc…

We were served meat for lunch today, which is quite an honor and only the “visitors” were served that. We are thinking it was goat or beef and was good. It was served with potatoes, spaghetti type noodles and a fish sauce that looked like chunky pink yogurt. Now I know how it sounds, but when 100+ women are watching you eat and have sacrificed to honor you, YOU EAT IT and smile gratefully, honestly it has all been good. They don’t understand why we can’t clean our plates, because they eat a very small meal in the early morning and this meal at lunch time and that will be it for the day. We all just want to hand our plates over to someone else and please know they will take it without hesitation, but would never ask.

Everyone else had a large peeled boiled potato with the fish sauce poured over it. Again they ate theirs with their fingers, while we had forks. They collect all the plates from everyone and wash them in the back, bent straight over from the waist with a plastic wash tub, the size and dimensions of something we have at home when the oil is changed in the car, with soapless water…scrubbed by one, rinsed in a second tub by another then stacked to dry. There is no running water. This water was carted from somewhere and I promise you all 100+ plates were washed in the same portion.

We had plenty of water today and by 5:30 when the men usually arrive from the other location, I am surprised at how they day has flown by.

They are so so grateful that we have come. But today I told them that we appreciated everything they have done to show their appreciation and that this time next week when we are gone, they needed to know that visitors are not necessary. Encouraging, and interesting yes, but that everything they need is still in Kakiira, God and the Bible and people to support and love them as they continue to learn and walk with Jesus. “Amen, Amen! Hallelujah!” they shouted. But I know we will miss each other when the time comes.

One woman asked if I was available to come and speak at her church on Sunday, and I had to tell her that I would be leaving early Sunday morning. Dang.

The men shared at dinner tonight, that their day was really good and powerful. A man named Moses ate dinner with us tonight and is helping start a church in a village close to here. He said men are called to lead and serve, but they are not equipped. That is exactly what this ministry organization is focused on, so I think there will be some support for him and the new church at some point.

Its difficult to have an overall perspective of Uganda or Africa from this one small village. But my guess is, that this is the way of this country at least, if not most, of the continent. It really is a foreign place compared to the US and that has nothing to do with distance.

Please pray for another day of strength and changed lives. Today I will teach on the woman caught in adultery and the way Jesus protected that woman, yet spoke the perfect balance of love, grace and truth. Our internet is so spotty, it is frustrating not to be able to email or post on facebook personally. Please know that any moment we are not engaged with the women, I am thinking how much I want to share with you all about Uganda, Kakiira and what we are so privileged to be doing. Until tomorrow…

So sorry, not to have pictures today. I lightened my load to the village yesterday by taking only the video camera. I know photos are the best part...more today.

Shannon, Robin, Cristin are all back to great health. Susan our women's team leader is still down and I don't know if she's going to make it with us today. I would know that if I was actually at the meeting that started 10 minutes ago...but you are so important to me :) They are a patient group, so I'm good that way.

Uganda 2010 day 7

2010-04-27T22:23:00.000-07:00

Today started out tough. We are running from 8am -9:30pm with meetings for preparation each day, traveling, speaking, sitting, singing, dancing, talking, hugging, and the heat and humidity. The internet is off and on, and when it’s off, there’s not much to be done about it.
I thinking I’m just missing some alone time, some down time to really prepare for the next day. But all in all things are running really smoothly, just my own personal moment of feeling not rested, not hydrated and not worthy.
But the women are amazing. Let me tell you, they work like mad in the early morning in order to make it to church by mid morning. They are dressed up, and so full of life. They are so grateful we are here. I think they view us as some sort of dignitary. American women bringing them something. But let me tell you when it comes to the word of God, they know it, they can quote it, and they know exactly how it applies. When it comes to the work of God, they see it. They are far more concerned with what God has done or is doing or showing them than the circumstances they are in. Though they don’t deny anything that is going on, and are pretty open.
I taught second today on John 11, Jesus raises Lazarus. It was awesome to be able to create a picture for them of the scene of what was happening, Thomas’ willingness to go with Jesus to Bethany even though he was sure they would all be killed. Martha’s profession that she believed Jesus was the Christ, even though he did not heal her brother and did not yet know he was going to raise him from the dead. I still see myself as the pouting child, stomping my feet a little bit at Christ not coming earlier and saving them all that sorrow. But as the women heard today, we love him, follow him, serve him…that doesn’t mean he’s still not doing his thing, glorifying the Father even if it upsets our lives and causes some pain for us. The funeral gathering and all those that were travelling with Christ made for a pretty big crowd to witness some mighty power and “many put their trust in Christ”. Are we still in when we get a NO to our prayer, knowing that God has a greater YES?…and it may not be about benefitting us at all. Anyway, thank you for indulging me as I relive it.
We broke into small groups and each had about 12 women and an interpreter. We had questions to initiate discussion about the two lessons taught, but I opened with asking them if they had any questions for me and that was that. It was really like a counseling session instead and some difficult questions like “what do I do if my husband is a believer, but found another wife?” “People call me to pray for them and they are also believing in the witch doctor, how can I get them to stop?” “When I am praying, I begin praying in tongues. Is that from God or from the devil?” “My friend is really depressed and doesn’t want to do anything, what should she do?” “I get really emotional when I pray for people, what can I do about it, is it ok?” (Ugandan women don’t show that kind of emotion) “What can we do about the younger generation who doesn’t want to go to church and follow Jesus?” So you know…nothing too life heavy or difficult!!!!
My word between every session, they get us all up to dance and sing partly because worship is so important to them and partly to wake everyone up for the next segment of the day. I promise they got a kick out of us joining them and I gave them a good laugh trying to figure out the shaking of my back side in just the right way. They are so fun about that kind of stuff , probably about 10 women came up to hug us and thank us for dancing with them. You know, I never knew I could sweat like that and I knew they don’t wear deodorant, but I am now wondering if mine is working and if I am smelling them or me?
The highlight today for me was being able to share from my past about the power of forgiveness and an altar call for anyone who needs to let go and forgive someone else. So as transparent as they are, about 70 of the 150 came forward for prayer. They gathered in a crowd and all of our team and some of the leadership spent about 15 minutes laying our hands on each one and praying for them.
Each day at dinner we share about our day and what is working and what isn’t. Each day gets better, everyone was more comfortable with the interpreters and the women are becoming so personally attached to us. I took a small purse size photo album today to share with a few and man did they pour over the few pictures I had of our family.
Once again the kids swarmed the camera and the bus, as we left. We put our hands out the window and they grab as we drive away, and run to keep up all the while waving and yelling goodbye. It’s a great way to begin and end the day. Feeling so blessed tonight…so impressed with the women we are meeting and their genuine hearts. I’ll close this one out by saying when we first arrived, the smell of something was really strong everywhere. I have to say the newbies among us thought it was marijuana and in a poor country, wouldn’t be surprised about the people seeking an escape from their suffering and hard life. I was so glad to hear, it is the charcoal they use and have resumed inhaling ever since I got the clarification…really could have been a really long or short trip otherwise…internet is down again, so I’ll try to get this one up in the morning before we leave. Love you all…thanks for praying us through.
Wednesday I will be teaching on a compassionate God from Luke 4. The widow of an only son who has died...Jesus goes to her, face to face and tells her "woman do not cry".

Uganda 2010 Day 6

2010-04-26T12:43:00.000-07:00

Apparently sleep and I have issues...the way our room is set up, the window is around the corner and the bed area stays dark long after the sun comes up. I am so afraid I will over-sleep, I am just giving it up all together. The Captain will be so happy that I finally understand him. Ok that would be an overstatement, but possibly a small bridge has been started between our worlds. My cell phone time setting is stuck somewhere over the north pole and it would take some algebra to figure out what time to set the alarm for Uganda time...trust issues..., I have a few. As it turns out, Ambien became a monkey on my back in 4 short nights, so if someone will set up an intervention and ship me off to a program when I return to the Pacific Time Zone, my sleepless self would appreciate the tough love.

I am also developing a lust for lettuce and tomato. People get it with the burgers and because it is washed in water and not cooked, they move it off to the side and it sits, taunting me, the seeds in the tomato slice staring at me like an affair waiting to happen, leaves of lettuce curl at their edges like am embrace I haven't felt in nearly a week. Don't judge me, I've been battling this bondage for 6 days now.

Monday in Kakiira...we headed to the village, arrived in the van and were dropped right in front of the church to be swarmed again by the children waiting. The whole village has begun to anticipate our drives through and spending more of their time outside, or on the porch of their one room homes that line the dirt street, we hear the yelling of "Muzungu" by children all the way in. Pointing, smiling, waving, running to keep up, mama's with toddlers, pointing to us and waving. It's clear the children have been taught to greet us and shake our hands. Even the youngest comes toddling up in the meeting room to shake each woman's hand. I don't know how much English they know, but many times their reply is "I am fine" no matter what the question. Of course, our English and theirs is accently differently. Youth sounds like YUT, winner sounds like weener, etc... I had the girls, and the boys for that matter, twirling around my finger during the praise time yesterday. And formed a "London Bridge" trying to get them to move through in a line, but ended up being different ones getting under our bridged arms and doing one twirl, until they were pushed out by the next for a turn. Holding their hands and putting theirs on my cheeks was thrilling for them. Touching my straight, soft hair, another thing altogether. Today I will bring a small photo album of family pictures to show them. I can't imagine what they will think of my grandson and my daughter-in-law's very light hair. I believe they would swarm the Deeds in fascination.

Yesterday, they got bold enough to ask for sweets, though we each brought bags of candy, we have been warned not to pass it out in the village. That parents can work an entire year to give them candy for their birthdays.

We also saw 2 babies, with black bands around their middles. The pastor's wife explained this means they have been given over to the witch doctor, in trade for a promise of wealth. Once given over, it is up to this evil to decide when the child will be needed for sacrifice. The baby stays with its family until called. The wealth never comes, but what's done is done. I asked if giving them over was difficult for the mothers, only because I can't imagine even the thought being considered. "Yes, it is devestating". This is the picture of true, unbearable poverty. Why God allows this desperation I cannot fathom. It just cannot be true. My eyesight at that distance is God's protection. I cannot see the black band that others can see, I cannot bear to see the faces and its a good thing the van is moving, because don't think for a minute my heart wouldn't yank me out the door, open or not. Rescuing these would not solve the problem, more would suffer. Bringing them the gospel, the faith to trust God in all things on the other hand...that's the POWER that could change what's happening.

I did teach yesterday.

I had such a peace, thank you for praying. The woman at the well. Jesus with a divine appointment with a outcast, ashamed, Samaritan woman. Going out of his way, offering her what no man could...what her 5 husbands had not given her. What the man she was living with now could not give her...offering life and fullness that is everlasting, not fleeting, not dependent on another person.

I was the first of 4, each of us was thanked, one woman sent her child to each of the teachers with an avocado. I can't imagine the cost. Each session was followed by a time for question and answer or a report of what they had learned and they were told, "you need to ask questions, get clarification so that when you go out and teach these things you are prepared". Well there you have it.

Lunch was served and when I say lunch, I mean these people only eat one meal a day. What looked like stiff mashed potatoes was a white corn meal kind of thing covered in a ladle of beans. They ate with their hands using the corn meal to scoop the beans. They somehow had forks for us. And had fans blowing only on us and a box of cold water bottles was delivered to us, once in the morning, once in the afternoon. Their water was in sealed clear plastic bags. They would bite a tiny hole in the corner and squeeze or suck the liquid out.

Water bottles are filled here, then carried home.

We watched this woman struggling with these two water bottles. She has just stopped to rest for a moment before carrying on.

This grandmother with two of her 22 grandchildren. She is 77, beautiful.

It was a good day. The Lord did great things, we did what we were sent to do. It doesn't feel like enough, but poverty of heart and spirit, and absence of God can be reconciled and joy and peace can prevail in the hearts of His people. Please continue to pray that we are strong in body, clear of mind, protected from sickness, vulnerable to people, open in hearts and led by the Holy Spirit. Thank you dear ones...you help sustain us.

Shannon has some great pictures on her blog at http://www.shannondawnphotography.com/

Uganda 2010 Day 5

2010-04-26T08:46:00.000-07:00

Oh my pink gracious…the newlyweds are expecting and it’s a GIRL! I have tried to let them do all the announcing of this exciting news, but well…grandparents can’t help themselves, and Uganda or not…there’s a princess coming in September!

I want to start every post the same…I am overwhelmed. Redundant by true. I guess I should start the day by telling on myself. I have been taking a sleeping aid that was recommended for the plane, and then for the first two nights here to help adjust to the 10 hour time difference. On the plane, in Dubai and Friday night, I seemed to wake up part way through the night and be awake until morning, so last night I took the second option of taking 2 pills, hoping to extend my nights sleep to a full 8 hours.
I woke up this morning tangled in the mosquito net and a giggling roommate. It took some coaxing to get it out of her, but apparently just before the double dose took full effect, we had quite a conversation including a whopper about a former engagement and some financial problems with the wedding, some “emotional” talk about the little girl in the blue dress and then I untied the mosquito netting, told my roomy I was going to sleep under the “princess net” mumbled something and fell asleep…well more like a “sleeping beauty” coma I guess. I have no memory of any of the colorful escapade or the tall tales, but I do believe I will forgo the sleep aid for tonight. It would be totally like my brother to tell me 2 was ok, and he did say that, knowing I would completely entertain someone sometime. For the record, I have no idea where the notion of a former engagement story came from.
We met this morning for breakfast, and then headed to Kakiira for church. I went to the breakfast room and tearfully met with a couple of the leaders. “I can’t live so safely”. I told them how compelled I was to dash out of the van yesterday, yet felt so tied to the seat. I told them that I understood we don’t want to do anything that would jeopardize the rest of the week, but I am still having such a difficult time, sitting is not nearly enough. Its not that I want to spare them the poverty, but loving and talking to a child struggling or sent out by family to scavenge food…sitting is not nearly enough. I felt like a silly female, and I hate feeling like a silly female, well the female part isn't a problem...
I was so impressed by the poverty yesterday, until today…when the village of Kakiira made Jinja look like paradise. It was the best and the worst of Uganda. Humble people, waiting to greet our van like we were celebrities, beautiful smiles, warm greetings, adorable children, dirt, shacks, hunger, rags, children carrying children.
I have only a few pictures to show for the visit. Today I wanted to see them, greet them, not wanting to make them feel like a photo opportunity. They didn’t mind a bit though, when another camera came out. Crowding around and smiling, making funny faces. I did video tape a little bit and was able to turn the view finder around so that the children could see themselves on the camera screen and that alone made them squeal in delight.
Cows, goats, chicken roam freely and mingle along with the residents on the torn up dirt roads.

Then we descended a set of stairs into the church. The underground meeting room was about ½ full when we came in but quickly filled. We were seated in special plastic chairs right up front, facing the center podium, while the regulars sat on benches, perpendicular to us, facing the front. Then church began. Because of the angle of our seats, we could see both the front and the congregation's faces and I found myself studying the faces of the women I have already love come to love. Noticing the ones who smile, and the ones who don’t. Worship leaders sang without accompaniment, freely, one song flowing into the next. Worship was demonstrative…feet moving, hands clapping and raised hands, loud voices. Children sitting with their parents were more than a little curious watching our fair skinned bunch.
Sneaking stares at us and smiling or ducking back behind a post or a mama. Directly behind us was an opening in the wall and there were about 10 young children, sitting in the dirt, peaking down at us. My word if I could have recorded it all without showing disrespect I would have.
Pastor Tracy Cook from Ventura was asked just before the service began, to preach today…people came forward to “testify” about God’s goodness. Offering was taken and 2 hours later, we were excused to greet each other. Children approached to eagerly shake hands with the “Muzungus” (foreigners). At one point I sat on a bench to talk to the pastor’s daughter and the tiniest little guy came over, slipped his hand in the crook of my arm and smiled while he stroked my forearm. What on earth he was thinking, I have no idea, but I didn’t really care. I was saying “Jesus loves me” one word at a time as he tried to repeat it. It was heaven in that whole in the ground. We finally tore ourselves away and made it back to the street where stickers were passed out and more pictures taken.
I sat silently on the way back. It’s just too much to take in. Rich in beauty, poor in possessions. Tomorrow we’ll talk about the spirit.

When we returned to the hotel we all felt like we needed some exercise, so we walked about 3 miles to the source of the Nile River, at Lake Victoria.
I'm in DeNile, like that's news to anybody!
Did a little shopping and took a boat ride…blah, blah, blah…the only thing worth mentioning is the pocket full of candy and the few children along the walk back.

A 10 year old carrying water on her head to her family, 3 little ones playing in the road…we didn’t need to bride them, they came close at the spectacle we were, but it was absolutely delightful to give them a piece of candy and watch their faces light up.

We ate dinner and then met about our first day of the conference. Day 1, session 1 is my assignment. Did I mention I haven’t actually taught before? “Woman at the well, Jesus going out of his way for the outcast”. Please pray that the Holy Spirit would just take over, cause oh my word, I am in Uganda and going to pretend to be a teacher tomorrow.

Thank you for sending me, thank you for allowing me to experience Uganda. Thank you for giving me a place to tell of my love for Jesus and His love for women. I wish I could say I have no words…but apparently I have a couple. Love you all. Internet’s been down all day here, so I’ll throw this one up first thing in the morning…bout 10pm ish Sunday for y'all. (What am I Southern now?)

Uganda 2010 day 4-Too much protection-too much regret.

2010-04-24T05:42:00.000-07:00

We headed to Jinja this morning to do some business, exchange cash for pre paid cell phones, and other incidentals. Our trusted bus driver knew which bank was the least likely to be difficult and he was right, the AK47's had no problem letting us in the bank. Don't tell the captain, but I spent about 150,000 this morning, in my defense it was not all at one place and this girlfriend knows how to bargain. Now seriously haggling over the equivalent of 70 cents seems just wrong, but I heard it is offensive not to challenge them. For the record, I have no sensitivity to someone paying me full price ever...but I am all American like that.
Lest you wonder, I paid about 1,000 shillings for the priviledge of taking their picture. Well worth it to all 3 of us. And then these two darlings. Just playing in the dirt with two sticks. The younger one was social and smiled ear to ear, speaking for his shy older brother. I was grateful they indulged me and after a little while they let me take their picture. Note to self: Never ever go out again without a pocket full of candy.

There was much to see on the road into the commercial area. Lots of people walking, women carrying their babies on their backs,

lush green everything, roadside "store fronts"

and a few funny looks at a van full of fair skinned people with their cameras sticking out the windows. We're trying to blend in and all.

As each of us finished trading our $100.00 bills, we returned to the van to wait for the rest of the group...where God allowed this to unfold while we waited...

We watched as this little one drag the heavy bag of trash from who knows how far, across a street to this dumpster. Looking back I realized given any other situation, I would have made my way to her as soon as I had scene her struggling with the weight. But I am under the direction and protection of the leaders of our group and it dawns on me the reason I dislike protection so. I needed to run to her, not sit in the van safely protected from the germs or anything else. Instead, I sat, we sat, silently, stunned as the scene was unfolding before us.

Unable to hoist it onto the overflowing heap, she dumped it right there in the dirt, shaking the container to empty the last piece and left with the bag in the direction she had come. And then this...
a woman, thin as the stick she's holding picking, scavenging, searching, carefully going over each piece in the small heap. Don't be confused, this wasn't a bag of any substance...nothing large enough to identify, just garbage. As she picked, several young boys jumped up in the refuse and began sorting through. One found a banana, peeled it and shared it with the other two. And we sat. Paralized. Holding close our new shillings, the near equivalent of 1/2 a year's wages for either famiy represented in the rubble. Who am I and how am I going to negotiate for the freedom to get involved?This is too careful, too protected, too much to bare. Too much.

I will never forget the sitting, the silence, the regret.

So tonight we are safe after an afternoon meeting and prayer over each other, a meal and now a bed room. The woman...the boys...the little girl in the blue dress...I wonder.

Uganda 2010 Day 2/3

2010-04-23T22:40:00.000-07:00

Uganda 2010…Day 2/3

Quite possibly or maybe definatly for sure…hitting the wall tonight. 49 hours of travel...done. My computer isn’t getting the internet in our room at the moment…so I’ll write this post and try to upload it tomorrow. We started today in Dubai. About midnight we fell in to bed and even with a sleep aid, I was awake bright eyed at 4:30am. I don’t know about you, but a bath sounded perfectly wonderful at that hour. We met for breakfast, packed up and were on the shuttle bus by 6:30. We saw very little of Dubai except some impressive looking buildings and only from a distance. We got through security, customs, passport checking, double passport checking, ticket checking, all the while I could see Starbucks taunting me as the minutes ticked by. But grabbing the internet connection when we could, the laptoppers settled in for a quick check and post and used up my Starbucks time.
Then we ran across a group that had been on our same flights from a program called the Joshua Campaign. The group consisted of a couple about my age, and 8 college aged boys/men. Several times a year a contact scopes out a very remote tribe in Ethiopia that has never heard the gospel. The fly into Ethiopia, drive for 3 days as far as they can, then are airlifted in to the area. Camels bring their food and water supplies every couple of days and they stay for a month. They have language barriers, but find translators and tell stories for 29 days starting in the old testament, through Jesus burial and resurrection. Many people come to the Lord and everytime, someone has followed right behind them to continue to disciple this tribe for about a year and a new church is planted. Darned, just when I wanted to complain about the mouse we saw scurrying across the dining room watching for crumbs here at our hotel, you know the one with a bed and running water? The hotel not the mouse. I missed the Gecko on the ceiling in the restaurant. Pretty sure he comes and goes as he pleases.
Back to the Ethiopia…So we talked for a few minutes and prayed for them and they for us, The “CEO” of our trip called us up and marching, to the gate and bus ride to take us to the tarmack to board.
Flight 4 hours: an hour in Ethiopia to drop off passengers and another 2 hours to Uganda. Remember that camera I said Emirates has on the bottom of the plane…quite a rush to watch it during landing!
Saturday morning… it’s warm this morning, but not miserable. Clouds cover the sky and it has been raining off and on. No mosquitos in sight. I snuck outside to SKYPE with Kristen and the Deeds and sat outside so I didn’t disturb anyone and the staff walking back and forth seemed more than curious about why I was sitting on a curb in my PJ’s talking to a laptop.
We were given the choice this morning about whether we wanted to go to the bank or send our cash for exchange. AK47’s and raucous negotiating of the exchange rate…darn right I’m going…I think it will be one of those moments I will wish I could take pictures or video but my better judgment will win. Please tell the Captain, yes, I have taken and unpacked my better judgment, he will be so relieved.
A good portion of yesterday's van ride was during daylight and as daily Uganda life flew by the windows, the economic conditions have started to become obvious. Many, many, many sellers set up on the side of the roads…very few buyers. Huddled groups of men on motorcycles like New York city cabbies, hoping they will get a fare of some kind for the day. Beautiful dark skinned people.
A small group from Kakiira came to pick us up, and 21 year old Sarah and Caroline sat with us on the ride home. They were quiet girls but willing to briefly answer our questions…brief answers are not at all satisfying to a heart wanting to connect, but I can be patient. Tomorrow our purpose gets into full gear. Introducing ourselves in the church service, and giving a brief explanation of why each one of us as come…I know, and yes, I will work hard on the brief, let the suffering begin. Brief is not one of my spiritual gifts…
Please pray that as we move closer to our week of teaching that the Holy Spirit would just take us over and we would give of ourselves in whatever way he calls and that the truth of a loving, saving Jesus would shine above all things.

Ugana 2010 Day 1 UGANDA TIME

2010-04-22T12:46:00.000-07:00

The week beginning Monday April 19th has been an exciting one to say the least.
As I type, I sit in row 33C of an Emirates 777 airliner.

This a deluxe airline for sure. Economy passengers don’t enjoy all that those forward in Business class and First class do, but they do let us parade by them on the way to our seats, just to make them jealous of the glorious party we enjoy back with the crowd. The individual TV screens offer so many choices mine is turned off ‘cause I am too overwhelmed with the options, ok after a couple of games of Tetris, and (can I just say I used to be good at that game, now it just frustrates me) and I’m hesitant to sleep with all the opportunity. I am a Carpe Diem-er, remember, so to sleep through, seems a waste of time. I believe hour 4 and on my change my mind.
The plane has two exterior view cameras we can click into at any time, one faces forward, and I do believe we were all witnesses to a little tail gating by our pilot on the runway, and it dawns on me, that could be the most accurate use of the term, ever. There is a power outlet in each row, so if I get a little wordy, well more than usual, remember 15 hours…
On Sunday evening, AD sent over the last of the darling dresses she has been sewing up for me to take along. Each one unique, and a labor of love.

I packed my own clothes, etc… and honestly, can’t believe it all fit, but yes it did. Now my carry on, a little on the heavy side with all the stuff I wanted to have access to on the plane…laptop, camera, video camera, books, games, change of clothes etc…Getting to these things, not so convenient, but with 15 hours in the air, I can pace myself that way.
We met this morning at 10am, got to know the rest of the group that travelled down from Paso Robles and I swear these women have so much to share, experienced a good dose of life and are just as anxious to serve Uganda. Dann made sure his girl was gonna be taken care of, or maybe that was chaperoned…not sure exactly where one ends and the other begins but both are entirely appropriate.
Got a text message from AD’s dad as we left the airport…”You Go Girl!” Its just where my heart is. If I could just for a minute lay it all on the line, I would tell you there is no greater thrill than to share my love for my Jesus with others. Why it is taking me so far away I can’t really answer, except that I want to say YES to every opportunity and considering the cost takes no time at all. The cost seems greater to let it slip away.
My prayer time this week as been permeated with the plan that I want to miss no opportunity. God revealed in me an weakness and mistake in my thinking when it comes to praying for others. I have tended to pray so safely for people that have yet to put their trust in Christ. I realized I was trying to protect God’s reputation by praying safely. I am praying that in Uganda we have an opportunity to ask God for some big things for the people of Kakira and that God shows himself mighty by answering prayer in dramatic ways. Big Goal…Big God. I know he’s up to it and I can’t wait!
10pm Dubai…Noon at home…We’ve landed gotten to our hotel and seen very little of Dubai. Shannon and I are sharing a room and have wandered the hotel wondering as we’re wandering if our usual habit of making eye contact and saying thank you is inappropriate for women when addressing men, cause we are getting a few funny looks. Please tell the Captain, that though I am like a kid in a candy store, mesmerized by every culture difference I see, I left the Burka clad women to proceed freely and only watched from a distance. I am closing this post with this picture of me putting a sweatshirt on during the flight. Only because have you ever seen more excitement in the eyes of a completely grown up woman, than this number? I’ll post again as soon as the internet allows. Pray for us as we are praying that God will do a work…for now…sleep!

Can't get the pictures to upload tonight. I'll try again tomorrow, may at the airport before we leave...Love you all...Ambien kicking in.

Crazy but true...all my blogger sign in stuff etc... is in Arabic...had to guess where to sign in etc...

Shoulda, Woulda, Coulda...

2010-04-11T20:29:00.000-07:00

My oh, my what a trip this has been. We left Thursday morning, at O dark crazy where I tried slipping out of bed and right into the passenger seat of the car without actually waking fully but praying that the Captain was completely alert as he drove us to LAX. We parked at the Hilton, where with an internet reservation, you get a space for $8 per day, which looks really reasonable until you calculate all the parking spaces in that 100 yard square of tiered concrete and I swear the garage financially sustains the hotel.

What an investment, wish I woulda thought of it.

Next time I need a place to stay overnight, I will make the parking garage reservation and bring an extra pillow, cause really two floors up and about 50 steps in and the same night's sleep would cost about 1/2 the round trip fare to Oklahoma.

The Captain is a great planner, as evidenced by the shuttle dropping us at the proper terminal at precisely 1 hour before departure. Which is not too soon and certainly not too late and in this case 15 minutes AFTER the security breech which closed down the entire terminal for 2 solid hours after we got into line. Nothing moving, except the stressed out security people chasing us into two lines and expecting us to stand quietly and calmly while they yelled at us to be in the right place all the while whispering to each other something about a "code BRAVO" with an abundance of anxiety.

The thing is I could text my kids and they could google Code BRAVO and when the internet offers you all sorts of explaination about a top secret code word...its not so, well top secret. "Security Breech", which was just a lot more than blatantly obvious since nothing, I mean nothing was moving at the security check point. No one at the airport wanted to talk about the elephant in the terminal, but the IPhones were doing their magic with all the news coverage of the event...makes me wonder if the internet doesn't have some sort of illegal access to TSA's tactical manuevers.

After about an hour and a half with no resolution in site and we had been informed that our flights were being held for us, and when I say us, I am pretty sure it was the Captain and me they were referring to, I suggested we lead the whole terminal in a prayer asking God to resolve the security issue. I thought God shoulda had an opportunity to show off a little or a lot...the ever practical Captain thought it might actually increase the security level. So I suggested we lead the thousands of us gathered in a song we all knew like "Yankee Doodle". I mean since our country was doing such a fine job of protecting us from something that demands a Code name, a little patriotic song could just do the trick to remind everyone now being held captive, how much we value our freedom...the Captain thought I might be deemed "a person of interest". "How about we get these two parallel lines of people with nothing to do, to do the wave then?"...that's when he threatened to report me as an "unattended bag". I can't wait till I get to travel without a chaperone...TSA will be prepared with a secret code for that day, no doubt.

So I settled in, mostly because I didn't want to upset my travelling partner so early in the adventure. He's handy with the overhead baggage and a sleeping shoulder at just the right height. Besides, I made him stop at the convenience store to buy an 8 oz bottle Nyquil on the way to the airport cause I was coughing like crazy and it was still dark outside (nighttime). And while standing in that security line I had plenty of time to read all the details about what you can and can't bring on board and I was 4 oz over the legal limit and Nyquil is expensive so I was not about to throw it away and yes it was sort of an excessive amount, though I was pacing my self at about 1 oz every 10 minutes... well lets just say I was getting quite a bit more cooperative, from what I can remember.

The event? Somebody whose bag was marked for a second scan, wasn't feeling as patriotic as suggested and decided he wanted to just move on to the gate. Code BRAVO...security breech...thousands of passengers stopped cold. Note to self...make constant eye contact with the screeners and wait for the nod, or the "wink and the gun" since they are security professionals and all.
So off into the wild blue yonder to Denver where we missed our connection, so stood in line to find out what United was gonna give us for being so understanding.

All the while, hearing that the security level was Orange and though I think it might be handy to know what that means, I wasn't in the mood to be handy, I was in the mood to have fun and get to Oklahoma and the Pitcher.

We stood and waited and heard the recordings over and over again about reporting any unattended bag when I saw this....

I know! It's totally an unattended bag. Clearly a bag and obviously unattended, but no one... and I mean no one was gonna report it no matter how dangerous it looked, I think a box marked "explosives" sitting in the middle of the gate and everybody that had already experienced being "Bravo" would circle 'round, concealing any further airport shutdowns. Which leads me to believe that if I googled how to actually do damage at the airport, we would see instructions documenting the perfect timing..."immediately following a security shutdown is the best time to try anything." Nobody will be seeing or reporting anything suspicious....nobody.

Out of their extreme generousity, United booked us on a flight 3 hours later. When we mentioned the flight that was just an hour later, they quickly "booked" us on that as "PRIORITY" standby, which is another top secret code word for "you're not booked on that flight at all, be we don't want to talk about it". So we waited for flight #1, then settled in for #2 so grateful that the pitcher wasn't getting his turn on the mound on this particular afternoon. TSA is very glad as well, cause really you have seen no breech like the one between a mama and her pitcher.

You'd think, oh I don't know, some free pretzels or something. But we did get to OKC, got a rental car, got to the game during the first inning and got to catch up with all the OBU fans and our favorite Caliokie girl. Just as we settled our already screaming backsides into the bleachers...so a headcold settled in on me or it could have been a Nyquil hangover.

Then 4 days of my two favorite things about travelling...eating and sleeping. The pitcher needs a near constant intake of calories, baseball and his mama, so all was well.

We spent one day walking around downtown and headed to my favorite thrift store only to be greeted by this. I just love that guy, when I can find him anyway...

We had a great time with the Pitcher and his girl and were ready but not really ready to come home.

Until Sunday morning, when the Captain went to check in for our flight scheduled for later that day, print the boarding passes and keep us on schedule.

Oops, no check-in email, no boarding passes...long story and long phone calls later...our tickets were for a week later, not the day we need to be home.

But ever grateful United Airlines offered to book us on new flights on Monday, charge us full fare for those tickets and a cancellation fee of $350.00 for the tickets we wouldn't be using plus charge us the difference between the flights...ya I know, all wrong.

It was gonna cost us less to buy new tickets and be no-shows. I wanted to remind them that we had been model prisoners in the last Code BRAVO ordeal, but my BRAVO was clear worn out by this point.

And it was nearly time to leave for church and its difficult really to be holding your bible ready to walk out the door for some bible-belt praise and worship and cursing at the same time.

16 credit card digits later, we were on our way to receive the blessin'. Hallelujah and amen.

Of course food follows everything with the pitcher, but after lunch we saw the new movie,"Date Night" and I am telling you that if you are a Steve Correll or Tina Fey fan, you're probably gonna need to get to the theater as soon as you can. And just for the record, if we ever get stuck together in a terminal under a security halting breech situation... We will sip Nyquil together and I will kill you with hilarity of all the one liners.

We just couldn't top this trip...so now its time for the pitcher and his girl to come home. Oklahoma was fun, its time to get back to your own rooms and reality...start packing, we'll have the pantry stocked.

Another Easter...another chance

2010-04-03T08:42:00.000-07:00

"Look! He comes with the clouds of heaven.
And everyone will see him—
even those who pierced him." Rev 1

You are in your car driving home. Thoughts wander to the game you want to see or meal you want to eat, when suddenly a sound unlike any you've ever heard fills the air. The sound is high above you. A trumpet? A choir? A choir of trumpets? You don't know, but you want to know.. So you pull over, get out of your car, and look up. As you do, you see you aren't the only curious one. The roadside has become a parking lot. Car doors are open, and people are staring at the sky. Shoppers are racing out of the grocery store. The Little League baseball game across the street has come to a halt. Players and parents are searching the clouds and what they see, and what you see, has never before been seen.

A brilliant light spills onto the earth. There are no shadows. None.

From every hue ever seen and a million more never seen. Riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels. They pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square inch of the sky.

North. South. East. West.

Thousands of silvery wings rise and fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim and seraphim chanting, Holy, holy, holy.. The final flank of angels is followed by twenty-four silver-bearded elders and a multitude of souls who join the angels in worship..

Suddenly, the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels
turn, you turn, the entire world turns and there He is..... Jesus.

Through waves of light you see the silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens his mouth, and you are surrounded by his declaration:

I am the Alpha and the Omega.

The angels bow their heads... The elders remove their crowns... And before you is a Figure so consuming that you know, instantly you know: Nothing else matters.. forget stock markets and school reports.... sales meetings and football games. Nothing is newsworthy.. . All that mattered, matters no more.... For Christ has come.

Author unknown...the above is from forwarded email

The day WILL come...when nothing else will matter...except HIM. Tomorrow is another Easter celebration...not the first, but perhaps the LAST...please don't miss the truth amid the celebration. He is the real deal, the only way to salvation when our bodies breathe their last...and the best of life in the meantime...the BEST of life. If you haven't yet decided where you're gonna spend ETERNITY...let this Easter seal it for you...ask the questions you need answered...then decide to join Him for more than you could ever imagine, your Savior waits. He thinks you are more than enough to die for and I know He is more than enough to live for.

The Risen Savior!

Its Friday...but Sunday is comin'

2010-04-02T21:00:00.001-07:00

Thanks Pastor Bob for sharing this great video clip with us tonight.
Sunday's comin' Amen.

24 and counting.....

2010-03-27T19:27:00.000-07:00

Here we go...plane tickets were purchased for our group that will be ministering in Uganda in April. I am already overwhelmed and completely excited. I got my last shot Friday and dropped by prescriptions for anti-malaria medication, anti-biotics and something in case of an unmanageable migraine.

Rarely, but every once in a while, my migraine prescriptions don't take effect or I can't keep them down with the nausea and end up in the ER where I am sure everyone thinks I am nuts, because when the pain gets to "emergency room" level, I am usually found waiting my turn on my knees on the floor, head in my hands on the seat of a chair and praying out loud.

Yes, I said out loud. I have no idea what anybodies reaction is, because in this scenario, I am beyond the ability to open my eyes because even the light through a keyhole in a dark room will surely pierce right through my eyes and strike my brain, like lightning. So, I don't look and I don't need to know that they are moving away from the crazy woman, and I believe the nurses might even thank me for scaring a few into thinking they aren't going to stick around to catch the headache or religion.

Anyway, the nearest hospital to where we will be staying is 4 hours away and I think I would throw myself under the car if I have to travel that far in migraine condition. So, I am praying I don't have to use this pressurized injectionable needleless-air-thingy or bride someone else to do it to me, but don't doubt I will if I have to, and the rest of Uganda will thank me, because lets be honest, a crazy white woman running around holding her head praying in a language they don't understand could just maybe bring on a slightly precarious reaction from the locals. You might want to keep CNN on your remote while I'm gone, just in case.

Filled out my Visa application and Uganda will be so happy to welcome me into their country for a hundred bucks. Kinkos was very happy to accept my $15.00 for two tiny terrible photos as a send off. I have to also show proof of an immunization for Yellow Fever. None of the other 4 I needed (according to the travel nurse), like Typhoid and Hepatitis need to proven, cause I guess they aren't worried about me bringing those babies home as a souvenir, but yellow fever, they need proof. That one, they want to keep in Uganda, no sharing that with US family and friends, I guess. Well, maybe for another $100.00 bucks.

We are flying Emirates Airlines 15 hours to Dubai, 12 hour layover and then another 8 hours to Entebbe, Uganda. The terminal in Dubai has a hotel right at the airport I guess where they will give us rooms, free of charge for the layover so we won't be just roaming around. I guess even Dubai has heard about my migraines, so who could blame them. But I am thinking after 16 hours in an airplane seat, I am gonna look for a tread mill for those 12 hours. Can you take Tylenol PM again after the first 8hours of knock out sleep, for the second 1/2 of the flight?? And I think we loose a day with the date line or something, so really, I will need both nights sleep because of the lost night with the time change right? Ya, and they are gonna take me international...I know.

My goodness, the food on the flight...and 16 hours, how many times will they wake me from my Tylenol coma and bring me food, but I can choose, a Hindu meal, Muslim meal, bland meal, standard meal, vegetarian meal, lactose free meal, medium meal, I'm still looking for the varietal chocolate meal, before I settle for something else. Perhaps I will order piece-meal AKA sampler plate? Or for heaven's sake if we have the Hindu-Muslim-vegetarian, couldn't that really be called "World Peace meal"? In which case, I will definitely partake but probably not remember because of the overdose of PM. I'll have someone take pictures.

I went to the Thrift store on $2.00 day and bought my clothing. In my natural fashion sense, I'm not much of a skirt girl and dresses and skirts must be below the knee. So I cleaned up at the Salvation Army and am culture and fashion friendly for the village, I hope...like I said stay close to CNN for updates.

My brother gave me a TON of fabric from his leftovers. He is the master of quilting and had a bunch of 1/2 yard pieces. So my new seamstress friend "AD" and I are making pillow case dresses to take along to any little girls that can use them. One of my suppliers sent me baseball jerseys for the boys. I have been warned about giving anything out. I guess the kids are pretty ruthless about taking things from one another that have any value at all. So I will be checking that out and may wait until the end of the trip when I travel to the Compassion project on the other side of the country to visit my Ruth. She has no idea I am coming and won't until I actually arrive in the country. We have been sponsoring her for about 10 years and she is 16 now. Beautiful and nearly a grown woman. Here are some pictures from the last couple of years.

Here is the most recent...I know, she's beautiful!

Each time we send a little extra, we get a picture and description with a thank you note, of what she bought with the money. She even choose that goat I guess. Anyway, I wish I could tell just how tall or what size she it, because I would love to bring her something to wear. She looks tall to me, but I don't know if I should take a chance or not. I am going to bring her tons of beads

to make jewelry. Perhaps she will make things for fun, or maybe it will be something that she could make and sell. I don't know. I would love to bring her mother, a widow and her siblings something also. I am hoping once I get into the country, I will know best what to do. Compassion allows and even encourages small gifts, but the items on the list of recommendations seem to be aimed at younger children. It will be a 9 hour drive with a Compassion driver to get from the village were the rest of the team is to where she is and will take three days to complete the trip and end up back in Entebbe where I meet up again with the rest of the team.

Oh my word, the pictures and video of our meeting. I am praying my driver speaks English and will learn to use my camera so we have it recorded for the rest of my family. Oh and that he isn't completely ready to run for the Ugandan hills after being in a car with me for 9 hours. Perhaps Compassion offers their own version of Tylenol PM and peace meals.

24 days and counting...

Ruptured peace, unsettled heart.

2010-03-20T19:08:00.000-07:00

"Girls, I want you to know something. And, I want you to know it in your heart of hearts! I want you to know it so completely, that you automatically turn to this truth each time your peace is ruptured or you become unsettled. I want you to grasp it when you become distracted by the stresses of daily living...THERE'S POWER IN THE NAME OF JESUS!

His name is above every other name. His is the highest name, the most wonderful name in all of Heaven and earth. When you breathe His name through faith, you can stand victoriously in the midst of any circumstance that challenges your peace and your sanity." copied from a post by Cyndi Wood at a blog called all access because my peace is ruptured and I have become unsettled.

Unsettled because Dot is not going to come along on the trip we had planned to take TOGETHER to Africa.

Unsettled because I am visual and so all my visions of travelling and airports and hotel beds with mosquito nets and skype attempts and wearing long skirts and teaching and translators and discussion groups and hugging women and a long drive to visit our sponsored daughter, Ruth and laying in the dark at the end of each day talking about how we had seen the Lord working that day or praying together, calling on Him to reach out to the village of Kakira...well, that was what I thought was going to happen. There are few on this earth that understand the tenderness we share for our Jesus. And I thought we'd now share Uganda. So I am unsettled and my peace is treatening to rupture.

But...God had other plans. He knew when we both agreed and surrendered to this trip, that only one of us would really be going. He knew what would transpire, how it would come about and that I would go alone, because he sees the beginning, the end, and the inbetween of all things.

Because I love Him so, and he has proven himself over and over again in my life, I know this is the better plan. It doesn't feel better, but this is not the first time what I know and what I feel are in conflict.

The thing is, she wanted to go so badly and suffers the loss right a long with me, only not with me. Answering "yes" in obediance has come first even before understanding, when she hears God's call to go or to stay.

I love to share a thing or two or 50 with another. I love to have a witness to my rendition of an adventurous account. My mind and heart see things in what some might say, from a slightly "over-dramatic" perspective and there's just a bit more credibility if Dot could nod along with my retelling. Otherwise, I don't get the "unbelievable, but true!" confirmation, just the "unbelievable" response.

But, I also know that in the book of Hosea, God leads us into the desert to speak tenderly to us there. He allows us solitude so that we can hear Him better. So off to Uganda, our team, one servant short from my view...perfectly put together from God's. So as my heart processes from unsettled to settled and my peace, from ruptured to repaired...I will count it all joy...gear up for the endurance this walk alone will take and trust Him for the dramatic result.

Just promise you will nod at the truth, believable or not.

Stairway makeover...

2010-03-10T16:27:00.000-08:00

The kitchen cabinets, make the countertops looks a little stale, the countertops, made the eating area need a little pick me up, made the family room look a little boring, which inspired a face lift for the stairway. The captain craftsman (not at all like crafter) did some great wood working magic, and despite the 20 or 300 foot tall walls above the stairs, we repainted and I went to work on reframing and rehanging some family photos. I got a great deal and when I say great, I mean one of those Kohl's 70% off and then a coupon and some $10.00 vouchers and two sets of black frames were practically free after Christmas.

Then I took a bunch of the old wood frames I have had forever and spray painted them white, velvet border and all. Scanned some family pictures to black and white and ordered them all from Snapfish, which I love because I don't have to leave the house and they deliver right to the mailbox, which for those of you under 30, I realize is probably now just another inalienable constitutional right, but for me, is such a luxury and miraculous that I want to kiss the mailman when I see him put the oversized envelope into the box.

Now I wanted an arrangement, collage on the wall, but I am one of those that has to put the nail in the wall about 3 or 6 different times, to get it in the right place and the spacing responsibility was daunting, yet my pretty frames and pictures were crying out to me to be hung. So...

I made a template out of paper, laid all the frames out, until I had them the way I wanted them.

Took a picture of the collage and then measured and marked on the paper, where the nails should go.

I put the paper up on the wall and nailed the hangers on the marks.

Then I tore the paper off, leaving the hangers in place and then referred back to my digital picture to duplicate the arrangement. Ta da...a little tweeking, moving, quake wax and I love to glance up and see my kid's faces & fingerprints up and down the stairs, . Kinda like the old days...but I miss the fingerprints.

God is working...

2010-03-05T19:13:00.000-08:00

Thinking about Uganda, planning for Uganda , dreaming about Uganda...

I will not even think about complaining about the shots Dot and I got last week. We were both brought to tears while talking in the car on the way and the poor nurse didn't know what to make of two leaky girls walking into the immunization room. We're girls, we just have spontaneous moments of drama.

God is doing a work. God is planting a love so deep in my heart for the women of Uganda, that I can hardly stand it. I picture their faces, their dress, their hearts . I have looked for, asked about, researched this village, Kakira. Who are these women, what do they deal with, how can I encourage them.

To say life is difficult there, is like saying the sun is hot. We can believe it, but will never really comprehend that degree of struggle. The roads are all dirt, walking is the mode of transportation, children care for children. The men that work all day, don't necessarily bring their earnings home, often choosing to drink away their paycheck leaving the family in a constant struggle to survive. Wives can be expected to share their husbands, and maybe in the common loveless marriages, it is not the impossible we would imagine. Physical discipline is common to control and keep the "beloved" in line, expected and accepted my many. I am sure this does not characterize every individual, but the reports I have received in preparing for the women of Kakira are full of resignation, poverty and empty hearts.

And God is working in me, swelling my heart with such longing and desire to bring a message of hope to the other side of the world. We are not the first, God willing, we won't be the last to come with the gospel, to Kakira.

God has made an appointment and I am so excited to be part of the team that will get to teach them what I know about the God of my heart. Several years ago I was faced with the possible threat of a life threatening illness. Thank you Lord, it wasn't on my calendar for that particular season of life, but there was quite a period of waiting and wondering "what if". I was resigned to whatever God had in store, but asked him that if the number of my days were drastically shortened, he would ordain a moment on a mountain for me. A moment where he would arrange for everyone within earshot to listen so I could tell them how and why Jesus is so worth living for and how be believes we are worth dying for. I doubt there will be a mountain but I am praying God uses this voice to show Himself glorious.

God is working...praise Him.

William & "The Change" & heart songs

2010-02-10T07:40:00.000-08:00

I have spent several nights over the last month wide awake when I should have been deep in some quality REM. Nothing bothering me, no pending catastrophe that I am aware of, in fact if truth be told, it is a most relaxing awake...body in a near coma, mind wheeling through all sorts of things.

My girlfriends warn me it could be symptoms of "the change". Let's just keep that little threat to ourselves here in blogdom. D is already dreading such things and all the fits that are sure to go with it. Let's not cause any anxiety until we are sure.

But to my knowledge I have never had hormonal symptoms in my life and since PMS are the three letters no man should ever speak and expect to live through, D would wholeheartedly agree, thus living to see yet another wonderful or duck and cover day with yours truly.

Back to sleepless in Ventura. One particular night, as I lay awake for going on 2 hours, I did the only rational thing. Get up, get the stuff done I was supposed to do first thing in the morning so that when I did go back to bed and to sleep, I could stretch the night into the first few hours of the day. Ah brilliant!

Running machines in the garage, I also checked into my email, because heaven only knows how many cyber-emergencies could be avoided if dealt with in the middle of the night. I had two messages from Jeff at the Kingdom Center about my friend William.

"Wow, what a day for William...This may be the first step in his walk with Christ...life changing for sure...His hand is in Billy's life"

"He is coming around...great people in his life...Matt, a pastor at Ventura Community Church and many others are sharing God's word with William. Keep praying and come see him anytime. He's at the Kingdom Center most of the time. A long way to go, but he's moving in the right direction, Praise God!

"I will praise you God with all my heart...I will sing your praise" Psalm 138:1

Hallelujah! That was worth loosing some sleep to hear and I thanked the Lord for waking me up to get just a few more hours of sheer joy by reading it in the middle of the night. William, my William. William, of the Kingdom Center, if softening and searching and maybe just getting a peak at the ONE who makes all things new.

I don't even know if I slept in or not. I do know that I skipped my way the next day to the KC. Two "$5 footlongs" in hand, I found him about midday working on the roof. He came down for a few minutes and exercising great restraint, I did not make any comments that could be used as stalking evidence, thus proving that old dogs can learn something...even those going through "changes".

We talked a little, he seemed discouraged that particular day. I had so hoped he had applied for housing where he was working so hard. He said that he hadn't, that there were "so many women and children" and that he had looked over the requirements and didn't think he qualified because of his past. I didn't pry, but dang I wanted to, because everybody has a past and I know for certain a troubled past does not keep you out of the Kingdom, or the Kingdom Center. But that's where he was and I knew if God was doing His thing, then I was gonna just support them both.

But...But...William is an ARTIST! He told me he had done a few drawings and went to get his bag. He is talented, really talented. Landscapes mostly and just on whatever paper he had. He had an agent at one time and explained the process of taking a drawing and getting it ready for sale, etc... My mind was working overtime trying to figure out how to get him back into selling his art work and and income and blah, blah, blah...until I checked back into the conversation and God showing me that drawing was William's heart.

I asked him how he was doing in general...he shared a little and again said "I honestly never thought I would see you again".

"God won't let me forget you."

"Ya, I have been hearing a lot about God."

I left that day and went to the art supply store. God drove, I sang and found a few things, including some real paper. Thank goodness a few artists were hanging around, cause 80 lb paper weighs the same as 40 lb paper to my hands. You'd think wouldn't you, that a peri-meno...woman my size could barely pick up 40 lb paper let alone the 80lb stuff, right? Who knew 80 lb paper is completely within my strength...take that Venus De Milo!

Protected in a briefcase, I dropped off the supplies the next day. It was like Christmas for me. He was out on his bike that day. I haven't seen him since, but I am praying he sees that God would totally drop off art supplies for William, even if he chooses to use a sleep deprived stalker to do it.

Can't wait to see what he draws on the paper and how he is being drawn as well, to the God of new beginnings, second chances, redeemed yesterdays.

I pray that if he has any sleepless nights, his heart and ears are wide open. God is doing His thing and my heart sings.

ahhh the Deeds!

2010-02-09T07:15:00.001-08:00

D and I got home from church Sunday to a message on the answering machine from the Deeds...

"Hey Papa and DD, want to go to heaven with us? Mommy and me are going, and Daddy. Yes or No? Call me back!"

Ahhh, Deeds.

Wouldn't forget him, part 2

2010-02-07T13:17:00.000-08:00

Christmas eve came and because we were flexing around a captain's schedule, it gave those grown kids of ours the day to spend with their other families. I so looked forward to the next day and didn't feel one bit pitiful for having some time alone. We spent the eve of Christmas eve together at a local theater company's "Family Christmas Show" where the Deeds passed out candy canes to the guests around us.

We got such a kick out of him as he included a warning with the peppermint treats. To the 6 elderly people just in front of us, our own little 3 year old blond elf offered "Would you like a candy cane? They are a widdle bit thpicy (spicy)". They giggled so in relief, to have gotten that disclaimer.

Anyway, here I was caught on the day between two memorable days and couldn't shake the thought of William and what on earth he would be doing for Christmas. I am not generally a regifter, but we are always the recipients of such amazing homemade treats and sweets during the holidays, I decided I would package up a few and head down to the Kingdom Center to see if I could find him.

When we talked on Thanksgiving and he told me he had been in town for only a few days and hadn't found a place to sleep yet, I suggested he look to help at the Kingdom Center. This is a local motel that is being renovated and converted into a transitional living center for the homeless. I wish this was just another in a succession of similar places in our beach town, but truthfully it is the first and only one of its kind and is clearly God doing a work, growing faith, and will be an opportunity for a second chance for many who want to become independent and need help. Complete owned and supported by Christians, churches and without any government money or dependence. AMEN.

William told me he had been a maintenance man, so I knew his many skills would give him a place to keep busy and feel productive if he chose it. All the labor is volunteer so there would be no paycheck for him, but the owners and visionaries of the project are all believers, and each room is sponsored by a different church so the opportunity to meet and be surrounded by good people was there. His other choice was to set up camp in the river bottom with so many other homeless people.

The river bottom is a tough area. D's station covers that area, and with their own culture and community, there has been a lot of trouble, crime and violence there. When we left him on Thanksgiving we did warn him of that and prayed he would choose working, even for nothing, over the trouble in the river bottom.

Several weeks later, one of the owner's at the Kingdom Center posted a video update on his facebook, and when I clicked on the link, there was WILLIAM! He was in several different shots doing different parts of the project and I was so thrilled. Grateful he had chosen that environment where I knew God's people would be in and out and surround him. That is where he was spending his days, but I worried about where he spent his nights.

So goodies in hand, I headed there on Christmas Eve. Empty, the whole place. I should have known. There was a van in the parking lot with someone inside so I asked that someone if he knew William. "Yes, I am waiting for him and another guy to take them to Christmas dinner, he should be here in about 20 minutes". The Harbor, what a great ministry.

Jackpot! So I waited.

I don't know if he remembered me right away, but we talked for a minute and he said "I didn't think I'd ever see you again". Cause don't you know that is what happens. If someone does take a minute to show some kindness, they aren't usually attempting any kind of relationship. A one time gesture is much easier, appreciated to be sure, but fleeting.

"I can't get you off of my mind. I think about you all the time." DANG! As soon as I heard myself say it, I was reminded he is a man and I am a woman and dang I hope he doesn't get the wrong idea. But judging from his expression and response, he was more amazed and grateful someone remembered him than flattered in any kind of "is she stalking me?" way. I told him he looked good (dang again) and he said he really liked hanging around the Kingdom Center. Of course you do, who doesn't like hanging around a place God spends some quality time? Only I said that to myself and not out loud, though I wanted to scream it and dance just a little at what was beginning. I handed him the goodies and warned him to share them, so he didn't get sick from too much chocolate because Lord knows if I am willing to stalk him, I'd also be likely to cause an overdose of sugar on Christmas. I handed him a small gift and gave him a big hug.

"You better start thinking about how you're gonna tell your story, William of the Kingdom Center, because God is gonna give you one, I'm sure of it." With that, the question of my sanity was sealed for him...not just a stalker...a crazy stalker.

Merry Christmas, William. I won't forget you.

Wouldn't forget him, I just knew.

2010-02-01T19:02:00.000-08:00

When two become one, two families also enter into a new phase of trying to capitalize on the time the newlyweds have for each of us. We love every minute they allow us, and yet know that their own life as a family has begun, and we would do ourselves well to adopt flexibility when filling in the holiday plans on the calendar. The definition of "holiday" must be "when we are all together" to celebrate, regardless of the date.

Normally, not unlike the rest of you, our Thanksgiving day is generally cooking, game playing and watching football, but since we were planning to celebrate a few days later, we were able to take advantage of an opportunity to serve on that day.

We all looked forward to it, to one degree or another, admittedly Dot and I were probably the ones actually jumping up and down, but the others were more than agreeable. A local church had organized the event to feed the local and growing homeless population and when it was publicized in the paper, more, far more than enough, people showed up with food and to serve. The goal was accomplished in feeding the hungry people that came, but it was a little disappointing to arrive, looking forward to serving and be told that there was plenty of help.

We were encouraged though, to "mingle" or "sit and talk" with the homeless as they ate. Long cafeteria tables filled the packed room and though our group was prepared to serve food, making conversation with total strangers brought a certain level of discomfort and challenge. Its tough to imagine having a lot in common with someone living on the street. I noticed my team heading outdoors to see if the drink or dessert table needed some help, but I spied a group of men and women sitting together and sat among them.

I hesitate to go much further. I am cautious to write about this day and what has followed at all because I know that being public about my experience could be misunderstood as self-serving. I know as believers the Bible says both "Let your light so shine among men, that they will see your good deeds and glorify your father in heaven." and "but when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand knowing what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret".

So I am torn. Except that I am so excited and I can't stand not sharing it because people...God is doing a thing in the life of a man named William. And God is doing a thing in me by allowing me to watch it up close and I do not want you to miss any moment of the excitement.

Back to Thanksgiving. I sat and wasn't especially welcomed by 3 of the 4 sitting there. I understand that. Here some healthy, well intentioned people, who live in homes, drive cars, and are wearing a fresh pair of clothing, come to serve the needy. But its a holiday and it probably looks like we are here today and will be gone tomorrow, and then feel really good about ourselves while our homeless friends, find their way back to the cardboard box or less, and lay awake tonight picturing us back in our warm houses watching football. But...But...William.

He was cautious at first when I started asking about his life and situation and history and I am so not good about giving people space and privacy. Considerate and respectful, yes I am, but I can't always figure out how to love somebody where they are, unless I know, well...where they are. He was hesitant, wondering how much of who he really was and his past I would sit through and what he might say that would make me bolt.

The more I heard and could relate, the more I wondered the same thing of him. I mean I am further from my past, but though God forgets our sin, he lets us remember enough so that we can relate to someone else and for heaven's sake close the gap between us. Because what a waste of time to think we are different people in the eyes of a Savior who died for both of us.

He didn't begin by opening up too freely, but he didn't get up and leave either. So we kept on. The details of where he has been and the life he came from leaked out first in general terms, then in a few details. I can't say we have experienced the same things, but pain and suffering and disappointment are universal. And, somehow God gave me some downright amazing insight and so many comforting things to say to him about who is really is, not who he has been.

At one point, through tears this 57 year old skeleton of a man, looked at me, and said "I wish I had had a mom like you". I don't believe he was pointing to anything except just wanting so badly to be listened to and understood. Maybe its been a long, long time.

There is always a story. There just is. There is always a set of circumstances, a series of decisions, key people missing at important moments. There is always a story. You will never convince me to abandon that truth. There is always a story.

We both pulled our sunglasses down, so we wouldn't look unmanly in the crowd. Because whatever self respect still remains when everything else has been lost, is worth holding on to.

I don't know how long we sat there. He talked about how he thinks God looks at him. I told him the truth about that. He told me about being so behind in doing good in his life, that he could never, never make it up. I told him he was right, but "doing" had no bearing on what God thought. I shared my own low point and time where my own reflection in the mirror disgusted me. But that there is hope, and redemption and that God had taken a heap and brought so much good and healing and purpose.

And then it was time to go.

I told him I would never forget him. I am sure he didn't believe me. We would go home and he would go back to homeless. So I hugged him good and tight and had to put my sunglasses back down on the way out. And D held me tight to the car and I had to leave my sunglasses down for most of the ride home, and now.

I knew I would never forget him. I just knew.

Like a humming bird...

2010-01-21T21:43:00.000-08:00

Perhaps that best describes what frustrates me so...I think I flit and flat and zoom around from one thing to another, never really landing long enough to have any kind of identity at all. I can add to my to do list much faster than I can accomplish one darn thing and I'm sometimes tripping over my own thoughts with the planning.

I have heard myself talking to someone about my next project as soon as I see the tiniest glimpse of finishing up the current thing. One day I sit feeling guilty for not feeling like doing a darn thing but bond with Dell, the next I am wanting to scold my driven self to just sit back a minute and take a deep breath. I drive my own self to craziness, so I can only imagine what it must be like to check in one day to something like Haiti and the next be reading about painting chairs.

But alas, that is me, at least for this season. So true to form...

The latest project on a budget.

Now I don't know about you all, but I think it is safe to say that I could quite possibly be the only person you know that would allow the falling rain to inspire you in such a way as to bring a chair to the middle of the family room, off white carpet and all and paint it, with of all things...real paint. But after the Deeds went home for a little nap yesterday...that is exactly what I did, all the while telling myself I am so glad D is at work today because I seriously am a nut and I don't want him to have any more evidence on that particular subject. I trust you all to keep that to yourselves.

I like this picture, because I can see the green I'm coming from in the chair to the green I'm moving towards in the lamp and pillows and the oh-so-worth-the-wait Uggs I got for Christmas, I love them so much, when I am not wearing them, I periodically wave to them.

It was just the very best place on earth to see the rain outside, hear and feel the fire inside and be entertained by my favorite talker "Bonny Hunt". Plus with the T & V on, if another tree got moved by the "severe" weather in our beach town, I'd be all up on the latest.

This was a garage sale chair ($3.00) last summer and I had a bunch, or 3 of those little cans of sample paint that Lowe's or Home Depot have now to try out colors before you invest in a whole gallon and got a hankerin' for some more color in the Pitcher's old room.

But in the meantime, I have been on a much "higher" mission. And by "higher", I mean upstairs. Remember the post with this picture of my kitchen table from last summer and me threatening to do something different, but what was it going to be and I was doing the cabinets in the kitchen at the time so I needed to wait and I was also looking for new chairs with fabric seats so I didn't really want to get anything going with the table until I knew about the chairs and I saw those great ones in Oklahoma at a thrift store, but D said they wouldn't fit in the suitcases so I had to leave them there? Remember that? oh Oklahoma, where the pitcher is...I need a moment.
ok, I'm better. I know, the suspense was totally killing me too, the not knowing and all! But then...but then...Craig's list!

Four of these beauties for (drumroll) $25.00, and not even each, $25.00 for the set!

So you know the drill...remove the pads, lightly sand...

Primer 1 coat...Paint 2 coats...

Staple new fabric pieces over vinyl...

Yes this fabric looks familiar because remember (and I totally believe that you remember every tiny distant detail of my decorating life, like I am that important. Ahh being completely disconnected from reality is so much more fun!)

Remember I couldn't decide which of about 5 different fabrics I wanted and so I ordered a yard or two of each, because I am so dang indecisive like that. Anyway, yes I used all of these on the pillows on the garage sale sofa redo...so I didn't even have to buy the fabric which is amazingly great since it is now 2010 and D and I are on a budget... (He's limiting his grocery purchases and I am limiting my decorating expenses, and its totally easier for him than me.)

Oh my word where was I? Table and chairs...well nearly done. The table top which gets lots of playdoh, glueing, and the occasional meal needs an extra couple of layers of polyurethane for protection. Hoping that doesn't yellow the color, but gotta opt for the durability.

Looking at those pictures...perhaps next Thursday when the furniture is cleared out but the blue tarp is not, well it might just be a Noah's Ark day with the Deeds!

And, since D just finished up a 72 hour stretch saving lives or buildings or flood rescues... I went ahead and used my extra time "saving" some old pillows for the family room with some recovering. How's that for a rescue? Uh ha, I see ya knoddin with gratitude and respect.

And Monday D stripped the wallpaper I adored in 1991, (but completely don't in 2010), from the downstairs bathroom and I so should have a quick plan to put it right back together since it is the guest bath, BUT I DON'T HAVE A PLAN at all and so if you come over and you need to use the facilities, you'll need to use your imagination too. And I'll go ahead and leave some decorating magazines in there so you can mark your preferences.

So like a hummingbird yes, but after 5 pieces of fudge, a bag of popcorn and a constant intake of caffeine...not exactly or very possibly the explanation!

Another Thursday...

2010-01-21T15:27:00.000-08:00

In contrast to everything going on in Haiti, nothing really seems blogworthy. Southern California is undergoing some "severe" weather, which again, when compared to anything Haiti, is an embarrassing description. But when a tornado pulls up a tree...yes people, a whole tree, our regular programming is interrupted and shazaam we are the top news story.

We don't know suffering like Haitians, we just don't. If you disagree, I give you 30 seconds with CNN ...'nough said.

But it's Thursday morning. The day which contains the 3 most heavenly hours of the week. "Deeds and DD day". He stopped by last evening for a quick visit and it just felt like we needed to get all the toys out, not just the one we were playing with for the moment, but all the ones we might want to play with next should be within reach. We had some cross culture activities going on. Legos were playing with cars, visiting animals and Pooh was appearing both in books and puzzles and it was wonderful and clearly the UN will be calling for tips on world peace.

We made a most "mommy challenging" decision before he left. "Lets leave the toys out for the morning when you come back". Both of their faces told me "against the rules", which made me even more determined to leave the chaos strewn around the universe otherwise known as the family room.

Anyway, Pandora offered us a little Raffi-genre background, fire in the fireplace and the continuing rain outside dictated our boundaries. Let the play begin.

After my second cup of "hot and bold" my focus sharpened to the scene and it dawned on me that given just a little imagination, and a floor level view and we could have some current events understanding.

Last Saturday the Deeds and I headed to a bakesale to benefit one orphanage in Haiti, so we talked on the way there about what happened and why we were giving money and what an earthquake is and how people were hurt and couldn't get food or their clothes because their houses fell down.

And yes I know these are awfully big issues for a 3 1/2 year old, but his mama and daddy are doing a great job of pointing out how to help others and that we all need to do what we can for someone in need. This was clearly obvious the other day when we drove by a guy standing on the corner waving a sign advertising a deal on pizza and the Deeds asked me if we had any "food" to give that man, because at 3 1/2 he can't read and thought this particular guy holding a sign was probably homeless and hungry and we should help him.

Anyway...back to the family room...is this still Thursday? Goodness the rain makes we wordy!

I suggested we play Haiti...don't get all uppity...I believe any Haitian reading the following would be grateful even the smallest Americans are trying to understand their plight. And he poured a bunch of change in a container for kids in Haiti, so he's already in the information loop, in a very appropriate "G" rated way.

Building Haiti...home with lots of family members doing all sorts of interesting things, like "cooking dinna, weading books, sweeping, watching a movie". Pretty nice home for Haiti, but I do believe from all news reports our engineering and building codes could be similiar. "Tell the story DD and I will do it"

Earthquake...

Spotting the people that are trapped. A few might have actually sustained injuries from the rescue efforts, since the racecar's tactics included pushing the blocks over the victims and they might have gotten run over in the process, several times or more.

A little triage and snoopy bandaids for this poor guy with two broken legs another with a "hurt head".

Bringing the only rescue vehicles we had...a race car/ambulance and firetruck.

I interviewed him at the hospital and asked if the people would be ok and he assured me they would be.

When I asked him how, he replied "Jesus will heal them." Why yes, little guy, he will and don't I wish we were closer to reassure the Haitians of exactly that. He quickly rebuilt our Haiti, put the people back to task and then reported that he would not like to do another earthquake please. Amen!

Yes rebuilding Haiti is an opportunity to offer hope and security to a city that has suffered so much. Please, Lord, from the heart of a toddler...no more earthquakes. Rebuild, restore their hearts along with their lives and remind them that in you, there is hope and life.

Sometimes I need a ...

2010-01-16T19:28:00.000-08:00

Reminder...a little reminder.

2009 ended with so much family time and fun. Christmas and a subsequent vacation to the snow. I had set my mind and schedule on being so intentional about the month of December and have so many great memories of it all and by New Year's eve, my heart was overflowing. Everyone made the most of the Pitcher's time home from Oklahoma and we spent many hours playing a new favorite family game. Time, time and more time with my favorite people in the world.

We had gotten some difficult news mid-December, but honestly with all the fortitude we could muster we were able to call on our favorite coping technique "denial" and resisted facing it head on until after the holidays.

Then the day came...The Pitcher left to go back to the mid west, my house, though clean and put back together looks lonesome and empty without the red and green and sparkles and with all the distractions of parties, baking, wrapping, packing etc... gone...the inevitable began digging its nails into me.

DEPRESSION, not the sadness kind, the "I have no motivation to do anything but mope around or curl up in a blanket and take a nap until life is fun again" kind. The reality of December's news could change the whole direction of our lives and we have no control over or choice in that.

I'm not trying to tease here, it's just really not possible to lay it all out just yet. The point is, it is out of our control, but within God's and yet, I fret. I tried eating my way through one day, trying to satisfy something inside and woke up with so much nutritional regret, I needed to take a picture to remind myself there isn't enough junk in the universe to make me feel better.

Yep, truth...24 hours worth of self medicating. So me fretting? I'm a half-full girl, infact I border on 3/4's most of the time. I'm not normally a fretter,that is D's job. He frets, so I get to blissfully dance my way through life knowing its covered.

And yet here I am... fretting, lost in a fretting frenzy, fearfully fretfully fully forging forward to a fretting fiasco! Yes, I know Phil 4:6 ..."don't be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God".

I know it, but though He is a good God, wanting only the best for us, including a hope and a future. I also know that this world is not our home and that we are called to suffering here for the sake of others and our own growth. He doesn't promise a smooth road, but instead equips us for the ride. I know all that and I believe it, I really do. I have even surrendered my life to His plan, painful or not, knowing the time I spend here will be so short and faint in comparision to eternity with my God.

But sometimes I need a reminder. A reminder that He knows what's going on and is "ON IT", taking care, working out all the details.

I received a belated Christmas gift...perfectly timed. It is strategically placed next to the hot and bold that opens my eyes in the morning. And it tells me what I need to know, every day, first thing, reminds me of the truth and does not change with threatening evidence otherwise.

"Good Morning, This is God. I'll be handling all your problems today."

I love it. And as if that wasn't enough, I was granted a moment of dramatic evidence yesterday, that He loves us so, protecting us always and holds our lives in His hands.

We got a call about 11:50am yesterday that our Newlywed son had been in an accident. Someone else calling us, at the scene and describing his car on its side. Telling me he was out of the vehicle wasn't enough for this mama and after practically pulling D down from a ladder he was on and nearly making him run to catch up to the car to get in, we arrived to this scene. Two fire trucks, Batallion Chief, 3 police cars, ambulance......Both drivers walked away. A few small cuts on his arm and a college boy who felt so bad I needed to mother him just a little too, cars...not so good...but first born son? Gonna be just fine.

"Yes, Lord, I see you, protector, provider, savior" , but sometimes I just need a little reminder.

What to say, what not to...

2010-01-14T21:48:00.000-08:00

The blog has been quieter than normal and I am wondering if all 2 of you that check in once in a while have been wondering how on earth I could have a period of more than 30 seconds with nothing to say.

The truth is there is ALOT to be said, its just somehow too big to blog about. Its a struggle sometimes to know how much to share with the likes of a venue whose name starts with "World Wide..." so sometimes my judgement errs on the side of silence, rather than downloading from a place is that isn't necessarily settled. Seriously the erring on the side of silence is probably very very rare, like mostly almost, never

Lets just say that there are a couple of really "life changing" things going on and as soon as I can I will spill it.

In the meantime, Haiti. The news coverage, the frustration, the fear...but the help, the hurry, the supplies, the donations, the doctors (800 arriving, another 1000 headed there) and that's just from Doctor's without borders. Some organization is sending 3 water processing PLANTS that can cleanse 10,000 gallons of water a day. I know there are thousands lost, and I know every single one belongs and is a huge loss to somebody, somebody real and feeling and whose life is forever changed and in a horrible dramatic, devestating way. But from this distant country perspective, there will be miracles reported, rescues, heroes and praise. Man, it appears, will tarnish in average, normal, routine, but in catastrophe and emergency, God stirs in us the ability to sacrifice, risk and shine for the sake of someone else.

Now if I had tried to come up with something completly random, I would never have been as successful as true life has proven. Mooch...

Trust me when I tell you I have never seen him watch television, ever. He's a DOG. He watches me, every move I make, well and the peanut butter jar, he's got a thing for the peanut butter jar especially when he sees a dog bone come out of the box and head for the peanut butter jar. The peanut butter jar? Well, it completes him. No question, no competition.

But yesterday, Bonny Hunt was on and I was wandering in and out of the room, which means the Mooch was wandering in and out of the room, except that he wasn't. From the kitchen I could see he was watching, well fixated really, on the television. So stuck was my d.o.g. that even my movements in and out and through the kitchen didn't cause a flinch. I called D in to see him because it was just such a sight, the Mooch in the zone with my favorite talker "Bonny Hunt".

I know you can't see the television, trust me, he's lookin' up at the TV.

As soon as I snapped a picture of him, I kid you not, I looked over to see what the topic or guest was and this is what I saw... Yep....Dog Adoption Day! I kid you not.
I can't really tell you I understand what he was thinking while he was watching. Perhaps, he was looking for a life mate, maybe wondering about litter buddies of long ago, or just checking to make sure he didn't see his own mug on the adoption rolls. It suddenly dawns on me, that I am talking here like dogs have thoughts. Well anyway, the Mooch! Couldn't have staged it, couldn't have been more hysterically random...Have a great Friday!

Haiti

2010-01-13T16:33:00.000-08:00

We can't even comprehend or understand the devestation that has hit Haiti, nor the anguish of Haiti's people, BUT we can help Compassion's Haiti Disaster Relief Fund.

If you are able, do what you can. This tragedy has hit real people. Though they are far away, children have lost parents, parenst have lost children, homes, jobs, and in somecases someone may be called a survivor only to realize surviving is worse than death.

How old are you when you realize...?

2010-01-07T21:39:00.000-08:00

How old are you when you realize that somebody leaving to go back to Oklahoma means a very long time of seperation? I guess 3 1/2 years because for the first time tonight as we celebrated our family by having dinner together, before the Pitcher heads back to the "child stealing state" aka Oklahoma, the Deeds laid down on the carpet and was sad when it was time to leave.

I can tell you, I am sad, Dann is sad, the newlyweds will miss him, Dot's "puddy pal" will leave an emptiness, but so far, when the Pitcher heads out, the Deeds treats the departure like he'll be seeing Unca Wyan tomorrow. Until tonight. And at 3 1/2 he is lacking in the sophistication we have that covers our sadness. At 3 1/2 when you are sad, you frown, sigh, cry and whimper about how long and how far and how much you are already missing a best friend.

So before he nearly caused us all to come undone, he suggested we all cuddle together, all us big bodies and his. I think he just wanted to soak in the closeness and hold onto it as long as he could. So we all laid down next to him, bellys to the floor, heads in a circle, all hands in the middle and started to tell him our favorite things about today together and the past few weeks. It seemed to give words to feelings and helped turn his sadness into a mind full of memories at least for the moment.

Spontaneous, tender, honest, transparent and thoroughly heart warming and heart breaking at the same time. If everyday could only be as sweet, and I wish we had thought of it before the newlyweds left because there was some firefighting play that happened before dinner that should have surely been part of our favorites.

I have to remember that if I didn't love them all so much, it wouldn't be nearly as difficult to say goodbye, again. But, they were not born to fulfill the whims of my heart and hours in my day. They each have their own adventures to experience and roads to travel, plans God has for them and dreams they have for themselves.

If 3 1/2 is the age you begin to understand and feel seperation from the ones you love, I hope I wake up tomorrow just shy of that age, because 10:30am will surely come and the truck will drive away and my heart will break just a little bit again. Ah, if it weren't so wonderful to be their mom, it wouldn't be so hard. But wonderful it is! Wonderful! Hard and wonderful!

Hidden treasure...

2010-01-03T17:52:00.000-08:00

Heading to Uganda in April with Unchanging Truth Ministries means I need to get on a disciplined schedule of studying and preparing for the teaching sessions. And get on it NOW. I believe God will leave me just short of feeling prepared, so he can do "his thing" and I am counting on him taking a heart willing and fill in the shortage on knowledge and polish.

I am so excited and yet also so humbled by the idea of encouraging women from the village of Kakira who work so much harder, walk so much further, have so much less, and so will not be able to relate to any cultural examples from America.

When I am speaking I exhale word pictures, descriptions, examples...I just do. This explains why people are often glazed over & nodding long before I am at all finished with the museum worthy piece of masterpiece that is rolling off my tongue. It's probably why every blog post I write contains twice the wordage it really requires...and 127 lines before I get to the topic at hand! I like to flower it up, make it bloom, I'm a gardener like that and completely not the other kind at all.

So anything having to do with tangibles or material-things-Americanwomanish will be completely inappropriate for Uganda, like most of what I have in my closet, which is why, my perspective and my wardrobe need a makeover of sorts. So I've got to get on it...which lead me to a most amazing discovery the other day when a 5 car hour post-snow adventure, allowed me to happen upon Joshua 22 where the chapter title "offensive altar" jumped out at me and I had to dig in because for heaven's sake I do not want to ever accidentally or otherwise find myself anywhere near such a thing.

If I understand the drama of Joshua 22, a couple of tribes and a 1/2 tribe were sent on their merry way to return to lives in the promised land after completing some other mission. Given instructions and reminded of their commitments to the Lord, they set off.

After crossing the Jordan and still on someone else's land, they stopped and set up an altar. Somebody spotted them and reported that the travellers had already forgotten the rules of life and worship and were bowing down to idols. The Israelites "the WHOLE assembly of Israel" gathered at Shiloh to wage war against them.

Ok, points for being willing to wage war for the sake of their LORD. But....But...BUT... first.....

Enter Phinehas, son of the priest of the travelling clans......a.k.a. PK with an established relationship with the"accused".

And get this...listen...they send Phinehas with a lot of other really important leaders to check out the rumor and they ask them "How can you break faith with the God of Israel like this? How could you turn away from the LORD and build yourselves an altar in rebellion against him now?..." which is code for "You idiots, you just left us and you're already getting us in all kinds of trouble!"

Pregnant pause...LOVE IT!...The travellers responded "The Mighty One, God, the LORD!...He knows! ..." and they told them the altar was to honor God, not for any other offerings. Which is code for "You thought wrong, don't believe the rumor, the truth is we are honoring God only!"

Apparently, back in Deut 13 starting at verse 12, the Israelites were given instruction to destroy any city, anybody that might lead the rest of Israel astray, but...but...not before the RUMOR was proven true.

In other words, it has always been possible to see not-clearly and no action should be taken until the truth was known. So God, knew we were likely to make judgements on bad evidence or appearance and he set up the guidelines for the accused to have an opportunity to right things up.

Joshua and Phinehas knew the law, knew the drill and followed through. Return to the end of Joshua 22 and verse 33 records "They were glad to hear the report and praised God. And they talked no more about going to war against them..."

Love it...Love it!!! LOVE IT! Why? I've been on both sides of this scenario. Been the accused when nobody came to ask about the truth and I've been the distant accuser. And the devastation? my word sometimes there is no end to it and even if the truth comes out at a later time, the hurt caused during the delay has felt near fatal.

Phinehas, my hero of the week and the weak. I have seen 10 follow an accuser, holding the accusation as fact and allowing the damage to fly, but I can't for the life of me remember a moment when someone lead a group to the suspiscious and gave them opportunity to explain before war, albiet, secret or silent or behind the scenes war.

Leading the leaders, 10 of them on a mission to find out the truth and then listening, taking the truth back to all of Israel allowing the restoration of both peace and the reputation of the travellers. That's my Phinehas!
,
Don't you just know the talk among the Israelites going on while P was on his fact finding mission was about tactic and plunder and God's defenders were mightly worked up for a riotous fight. Phinehas could teach a Sunday school class I say on turning down the drama and accepting the truth even in the face of appearance to the contrary.

A hidden treasure I say. Don't know if the women of Uganda will get a taste of battling the rumor mill, God's way. My assignment is Women of the Bible. But boy if we get anywhere near the way women work, I believe my hero, Mr. P, shall make a polite appearance. Truth...Treasure...Love it!

Technologistics...at your own risk!

2009-12-21T09:03:00.000-08:00

"Do Less...Be More" special project for a friend.
So perhaps I have figured out how to link the video project we did for our dear sweet friend Julie Ochoa. After waiting 4 years, and getting the title "longest on the transplant list at UCLA" this young mom finally received a call that has given her new lungs & new life. It was priviledge to be awake between 2-3am, my scheduled prayer hour for her, but honestly all of our community of friends felt the world stand silently still as we waited through the surgery and first few days. Amazingly, and without any ability to know she would get a call 4 days later, she posted this to her own blog "STAND STILL AND SEE THIS GREAT THING THE LORD IS ABOUT TO DO BEFORE YOUR EYES!" 1Samuel 12:16
A month later, she is home with her wonderful husband and two girls, able to be involved with the preparations for the One who brought us all new life.
We are just hands on friends, so having to stay at a distance is challenging, but short of a sterilizing of all things germy, we love her enough to stay away...but too much not to do something special. I sure hope the link works...I'm sure I will hear from you if not and be able to redirect you somehow...enjoy a bunch of holiday spirit, dance style! Click on this link.
Merry Christmas Julie

Next to naughty in the dictionary...Mooch!

2009-12-18T16:28:00.000-08:00

I don't care if these look like balls, they are ornaments, doggone it!

Or were ornaments and the Mooch spent the morning working his way to the top of Santa's naughty list

and I was all set to ask D to buy a couple of cans of dog food to give him a treat from the dry food he gets every day. Double dang!!

And if he could not add deception on top of the offense he would be so much better off. When I shouted at him, his response was absolute denial of any involvement. He acted like he had no idea how any of it happened and that the only reason he was anywhere near the brokenness was because he had just that minute chased the bad guy from the living room.>

Doggone it Mooch!

You might want to rethink it...

2009-12-18T15:10:00.000-08:00

At brunch the other day with the mommies, we were sharing family traditions and Dot talked about how we save the paper at our house, no tearing unless someone buys their own paper and says its ok. Otherwise, everyone is armed with a knife to slice the tape and we carefully open each package and save the paper. Yes, there is leftover tape on all the paper and creases from presents past, little holes and tears, but every aged fold and mark, records time, family and memories. Its tradition and started many years ago with my mom and grandmother and I think it was because money was really tight and they both wanted really pretty paper and bows. So, after spending their budget on the beauty, they wanted to save it for next year.
As expected, and usual when our gift opening practice is shared with the rippers and tearers of the world, eyes rolled and giggles were covered. That's ok, we do not limit our family peculiarities to any particular area, but rather do many things that normal people don't understand. That way we make sure our children grow up to be weird don't fit easily into other families and stay close.

Anyway, today I did some wrapping and like every other year I looked at the paper and began reminiscing. I don't necessarily remember any certain gift when I look at the paper our family has used, some for up to 50 years. But I remember things like my grandpa always using the same gold crinkly foil for my grandma. When he was younger he purchased what he thought were some kind of bow or package decoration that he thought was entirely appropriate, truly it was little wreaths that were supposed to have candles set in the middle of them. I don't think anyone ever told him and he used them year after year. No tag needed, when you saw that paper with those candle rings you knew...from grandpa to grandma. When my grandmother passed away, I took the paper out of the box and saved it, never to be used again. The candle rings aren't in any of my decorations anymore. But I noticed as he got older and his eyesight was failing, he gave up on ribbons and tags and began to decorate and label his gifts with magic markers.

So touching it is to my heart that I can look at his writing on that paper and remember how much fun he was at Christmas allowing us to tease him and often tossing a perfectly timed joke back at us. And though I discourage sticking label tags to the paper, this one is oh so special, because it is handwriting that reflects an elementary age Dot with some thoughtful thing for her hero.
Call us crazy, but we also save the ribbons. Back in the day, there was no wired ribbon and I swear my mom and grandmother would make every single one of their own bows. Not the stick on kind. Wrap around the hand, fold in half, cut little "V"s, tie curly ribbon around the middle and fluff to perfection. Then, I say then...after Christmas they would cut the curly ribbon, stretch out the wider rbbon that had been the bow, iron it...I said iron it, roll it back around the hand and tie the curly ribbon and save it, unfluffed for next year. Yes, huh, they DID! Most of those bows are gone or don't make it on my packages because I have a special attachment to the wired ribbon and tieing the bows. BUT, but...I do save the ribbon as well. No ironing, but winding it back up and storing it neatly in a box for next year. Yes, huh, I have one obsessive-compulsive behavior and it is the Christmas wrapping. D is so proud, except it drives him crazy cause he is from a ripping heritage.
Call us crazier, but we also save boxes. Yes, we do. Fold them back to flat and keep them in a box.

I wish I could say its cause we are so environmentally friendly, or the cost for new boxes is high, but honestly its just what we do. And seriously, can you look back at your boxes and see where one of your boys was wrapping and marked the box so he wouldn't forget who it was to? Because this is clearly middle school legibility and he wrote "Mom" for heaven's sake. I may be framing this one.
Today as I was wrapping I noticed that it is so convenient to use the same boxes over and over because the wrapping paper fits them perfectly and no waste or cutting.

Same thing with the ribbon, already cut to perfect length. We have, by this time accumulated more paper than we will ever use, but after all these years and all these memories how on earth could I part with a single piece even if it only makes it up and down from the attic and will never see an actual package again. But ahhhh tradition, quirky "call us silly" tradition. Time consuming memory making habits that tie us together. So roll your eyes if you must, mine are misting over with the tenderness of sharpy written on a piece of foil that will remind me of all kinds of goodness from Christmas past. Merry Christmas!

Do Less... Be More - Update

2009-12-16T18:18:00.000-08:00

Some sweet friend I like to call "Hot Beverage" (what, you don't call your friends by menu terms?) called on me for a little accountability on my holiday list posted in November. Its so fun to know someone cares enough to check in with me on my goals, because you know...its easy to list them, but the follow through is the challenge. Some would call it checking up on me, but she is so the "checking in" type, not the checking up kind and yes there is a big difference! So anyway, I went back to my list to see how being intentional was going.

Things I will do this Christmas season:

1. spend time with 10 little girls making gifts.- Done and what a treat it was! They made no-sew pillows, bracelets and a very meaningful jar, decorated and filled with notes to someone special in their lives. Before we left, each gift was wrapped and addressed to someone they chose and FYI exhausted moms, you will be relieved to know that when pre-teen girls think of someone they'd like to give to at Christmas, Mom makes the top of the list everytime

2. Spend time creating a special gift for a very special friend. Can I just say it wasn't just me and what fun we had and the gift will be presented tonight, Thursday the 17th and I will have to hold this post until afterwards or it will be spoiled. If I can get my techno mojo going,there will be a link on this blog so you can view it. If not, well, you'll just have to trust me! It was a BLAST! Giving really is the very best part of presents!

3. Leave early enough for every errand, that I can pass by a parking place (Oh, but for this post I was ready to bumper-wrestle a guy at the mall the other day, conviction it was, holy conviction that reminded me to keep all my parts inside the car and smile sweetly) or let another driver into traffic without having to threaten him with bodily harm. Have enough time when I am out, to let someone in line, help someone carry something, (I realized I haven't been out much, but today with the Deeds & Dot we did a little loitering at the grocery store looking for some grandmas and grandpas that could use a couple of extra hands getting their groceries to the car. And have a purse full of candy canes to offer every child I see. The Deeds took care of that at Ross and the mall last week and it was oh so fun!

4. Plan a NERTZ party for after the pitcher gets home, cause I miss all those friends of my kids, scheduled for Sat the 19th, but haven't gotten too many rsvps yet, of course I do believe the twitter/text/facebook generation doesn't do the rsvp thing in language I understand, so perhaps I have 20 hundred tweets that I cannot read expressing their excitement

5. Plan a Christmas gathering for some girls, cause I miss my friends. PJ's slippers and food, cause a girl just needs to take a break this time of year...can't wait.

6. Make a Christmas budget Missed the opportunity. After the fact, I can at least say that D and I had a verbal agreement so that kinda counts.

7. Stick to the Christmas budget eliminating the post Christmas credit card bill, stress & regret I have used the CC..., but with each purchase I have subtracted the charge from the check register, thereby putting the money aside which is kind of a victory.

8. Make room in the budget to surprise perfect strangers with something and keep my eyes open for just the right opportunities. I have only done this once so far and forgot to tell the lady at the coffee bean to keep the gift annonymous, so I was thanked profusely, which is not nearly as fun as being sneaky. After the sweetest grandma waited patiently for the Deeds to take her groceries from her cart to the conveyer belt and then after she paid, he walked her to her car and he put the bags in the trunk of her car, we found an inconspicuous spot at Starbucks, prepaid a couple of beverages, remembered to tell the clerk we were annonymous, bought the Deeds a chocolate milk then spied on the targeted strangers. I put on an old pair of sweats yesterday and found some cash in the pocket which I believe qualified as our budget for today. Again, giving is the most fun part of presents!

9. Spend several occasions snuggled under a blanket reading a book in the living room where the Christmas tree is, with carols playing in the background or if I'm lucky while Dann plays his guitar. So far one afternoon, but there is still time.

10. Plan a brunch for a special group of mommies where they can share and hear about each other's family traditions, and provide childcare for them so they can have a few hours off. It was so fun and heartwarming to hear them share the ways they want to celebrate the holidays and what a priority Christ's birth will be. Those are some amazing mommies...wish I had what they have at such a young age. Awesome, intentional, tender hearts.

11. Bake something yummy when Dann is home, so he remembers his mom and her holiday baking. Need to plan this for next week. 12. bake something yummy when my kids are here so they have similiar memories. hmmm not sure when all of the kids will be here except on Christmas... bound to be something yummy smelling that day.

13. See the movie "Everybody's Fine" with as many of my kids as can make it. It looks like this has been replaced with the Family Christmas at the Rubicon on the eve of Christmas eve.

14. Wish everybody Merry Christmas, everybody. I tried this early on, but people think it is kind of weird on Dec 3rd to wish them a Merry Christmas 21 days early...so perhaps it is now time to smother them in good MC wishes.

15. I will put my amazing husband at the top of my list of people to give my time to and thank him for being so patient when I let my life get out of control. FOCUS...FOCUS...FOCUS. I have to admit this is my weak spot on the list. But with time left, I need to get this together and make sure he knows how much he means to us. My weakness does NOT reflect the amazingawesomegreatness of him. He has just left our home at 9:45pm to go back to church to make sure the coffee pot was turned off after he spent 2 1/2 hours there rehearsing for Christmas sunday worship because what is more offending for two non-coffee drinkers than the smell of burnt coffee in the morning. Amazingawesomegreatness and he chose me to spend his life with! Glory & grace.

So I challenged you to come up with your own list of do less & be more. If you did...carry on, don't give up. If you didn't, its not too late. With a week + left, make a short list, reasonable, doable, enjoyable. Include one thing that will pamper yourself, one thing that will bless your family and one thing that will bless & surprise a perfect stranger. Fill me in if you have a chance.

And...Merry Christmas!

Sweet Confection Perfection

2009-12-10T20:28:00.000-08:00

Every Thursday Dot has Bible study and I get the Deeds. Its always fun. I most always have a plan to do something new, or something different or a new way of doing something old. But CHRISTMAS! There are way too many opportunities, too many choices, too many very important holiday adventures to pack into a couple of hours once a week. Today Dot extended her morning to pray with a friend and have lunch with another. So the Deeds and I had quite a day planned. I so wish I had a camera full of pictures of each stop we made this morning to document how a 3-year-old can turn even the simplist errand into a Christmas event. But somehow lugging the camera around to catch the shot, changes the whole experience. So followers, you'll just have to use your mind's eye for the best parts.

We started the day making candy cane fudge. I don't know if that is the real name, but we were making it, so we got to name it. Stirring boiling candy for 10 minutes doesn't allow much involvement for a preschooler, so we decided to add candy canes and certainly they needed to be crunched into sprinkle size pieces. I am sure Julia Childs has this photo right next to "Candy Crunching Technique" and if she doesn't she should.

With each perfectly placed crumb of candy cane, I am sure this will be the best fudge we have ever made together!

D was working overtime at station 5. "DD, can we go visit Papa at Station 5, because that is where the fireman pole is and I can give the firemen candy canes." Well little man, yes we can. So we left the fudge to cool and headed off to see Papa and the pole. The firemen got their candy canes, the Deeds got to sit in the tiller seat papa did his killer demonstration of pole sliding and we were off to shop for Daddy.

A couple of weeks ago I asked Micah what he wanted to get Daddy for Christmas. "Well, he already has a backpack so I think I would get him a "------"." Oh, that's a good idea. What color would you get him?" "Well, red is his favorite color, so a red one". For heaven's sake, if he knows what he wants to get his daddy and even the color at 3 years old...I'm making it happen, just for the sake of the story. Anyway, we headed to Ross and the Deeds reminded me we needed to take the candy canes in to give to people. I was thinking we would take them to the mall and he could give them to other kids he saw, but mercy, he clearly had an agenda and I was not about to get in the way of his generousity. He was seriously chasing people down at Ross to try to give them a candy cane. I mean, spotting them, running after them, calling to them etc... Now, let me just say, if a blond headed, toddler runs up to you anywhere and offers you a candy cane of any size for any reason, please...TAKE IT and just thank him! Please! I can tell you it causes at least 10 kinds of confusion to a little guy trying to spread some Christmas cheer when he hears "No thank you, I don't eat sugar, I'm a diabetic, I don't like candy canes". Just take it, smile and appreciate the gift. Thankfully, it didn't hurt his feelings or anything, he just looked at them like "I must not be hearing you right because I am offering you sweet heaven here and I think you just turned me down." Anyway, needless to say our quick gift selection took about an hour and the equivalent of a mile of running down holiday shoppers.

We made a couple of other "quick" stops, having left the candy canes in the car. Then we headed to the mall. It has been a very long time, like never that I have gone to the mall without an agenda except to follow a pint sized elf around as he spies and pursues person after person to gift with a peppermint delight. We did have a target audience, grandma's or children but not babies. It was so fun. Seriously, just watching him work was a "joy to my world". Kids loved him, grandmas hugged him and we just took our sweet time wandering down to the play area at the opposite end. We decided ice cream for lunch was a necessary addition to this most festive day. Wandering all the way back to the car with vanilla goodness filling our tummies and covering the lower half of one of our little faces. A couple of napkins and a buckled up car seat later we headed home.

It took very little coaxing to get this tiny elf upstairs and down for a nap. He chose a Christmas story book, complete with little paperdoll type characters. So after reading the book, I told him I'd come back in a few minutes and it would be time to stop playing and lay down to go to sleep. About 10 minutes later I came into the room and found him missing...?? Where in the world? So I walked around the bed and saw...a knee... And then a tuft of blonde hair... and one pillow at a time...I found him.

He loves to hide and wait with anticipation to be found. But today with all the festive responsibilites he was saddled with, this little helper, couldn't stay awake long enough to be found. Sweet perfection...that's what I'd call today. Sweet confection perfection!

Do Less...Be More

2009-11-30T07:47:00.000-08:00

I read this post by the Nester today all about being so much more intentional about the holiday season. Instead of trying to do it all, making some conscious decisions about what is important and letting the lesser things go for the sake of enjoying the best things.

Now that being said, I have just ended the busiest week of my year in a while so I am doubly motivated to make sure the rest of the season is festive and meaningful, not just crazy.

So I make my lists here so that you can keep me on task and provide me a little accountability.

Things I will do this Christmas season:
1. spend time with 10 little girls making gifts.
2. spend time creating a special gift for a very special friend.
3. leave early enough for every errand, that I can pass by a parking place or let another driver into traffic without having to threaten him with bodily harm. Have enough time when I am out, to let someone in line, help someone carry something, and have a purse full of candy canes to offer every child I see.
4. plan a nerts party for after the pitcher gets home, cause I miss his friends.
5. plan a Christmas gathering for some girls, cause I miss my friends.
6. make a Christmas budget
7. stick to the Christmas budget eliminating the post Christmas credit card bill, stress & regret
8. make room in the budget to surprise perfect strangers with something and keep my eyes open for just the right opportunities.
9. spend several occasions snuggled under a blanket reading a book in the living room where the Christmas tree is, with carols playing in the background or if I'm lucky while Dann plays his guitar.
10. plan a brunch for a special group of mommies where they can share and hear about each other's family traditions, and provide childcare for them so they can have a few hours off.
11. bake something yummy when Dann is home, so he remembers his mom and her holiday baking.
12. bake something yummy when my kids are here so they have similiar memories.
13. See the movie "Everybody's Fine" with as many of my kids as can make it.
14. Wish everybody Merry Christmas, everybody.
15. I will put my amazing husband at the top of my list of people to give my time to and thank him for being so patient when I let my life get out of control.

So the list seems long, but I think it is doable. I plan on making merry this year. Merry for others which makes merry for me.

How about you? Have you got a plan to Do Less and Be More? Will you be intentional about the things you want to accomplish this year or just let each day, with its urgencies take over our holiday? 15 things for me, some activities, some attitudes and perspectives. I'll end as I go get my calendar and put down a few dates so I can send out some invitations and begin my planning to be more and do less. Bless you, can't wait to hear your list.

Where in the world???

2009-11-25T21:44:00.001-08:00

Where have I been. Haven't kept up with emails, haven't gotten to the mail box, meals consist of a scoop of peanut butter and constant intake of coffee & diet coke. I am craft obsessed that's where because when you say "how about a Christmas craft boutique to help raise funds for the Uganda Missions trip?" you think it will be so fun to have all your friends come by your home, completely decorated for Christmas way earlier than normal, carols playing in the background and all dressed up in a darling holiday outfit sipping on warm cider and sharing in the spirit. I can't wait and the girls are working their own magic creating some darling things too. Here is a preview, just to help you begin planning your Friday evening. We'd love to have you stop by, sip some cider and share in the vision for Uganda! December 4th, 6-9pm, The Plum's.

You can check out some of Kristen's stuff on her blog
www.kristen-plum.blogspot.com

Uganda 2010

2009-11-15T08:47:00.000-08:00

Kristen, Shannon, Susan, Cristin & Me! Heading to Uganda in April to partner with an amazing group of men doing a Pastor's conference. We will be ministering to the women & children of that area. We are really excited and believe that God is calling us to go. More info to follow as we step out to serve the One we love!
Please join us at a Holiday Boutique!

Holiday Boutique

FRIDAY DEC 4th, 2010

FUNDRAISER

UGANDA 2010

We are heading to Uganda to minister to the women and children there.

The trip is scheduled for April 2010 and we have been working like crazy to create some unique holiday gifts that will help us begin to raise the funds needed.

Please plan to stop by, share in the holiday season and do a little shopping!

Sneak peak!

Gotta love the garage sale!

2009-11-12T17:07:00.000-08:00

I'm not quick on the projects, but eventually I get to them and I think D is beginning to have a little more patience with my makeover schedule and is starting...just starting to have a little more understanding about the "trash to treasure" mantra. He whole heartedly holds to his own OCD routine called "trash to trash cans".

The rub? We disagree on what defines trash. Well, truth be told, we occasionally disagree on a couple of other things, but we're both still in training in the married arena, so the things I drag home from someone else's driveway only occasionally raise an eyebrow. Asking him to carry each piece upstairs to the spare room for storage, then to the patio for painting, then back upstairs to their resting place...well I'm sure he loves showing off his muscles that way.

Anyway, I did a crazy (by crazy, I probably mean illegal) U-turn on the way to church over the summer and bought this chest for $30.00...sanded & painted it, then distressed the edges a little and ta da!

Then I found this trunk on Craig's list and drove up to the innerds of Ojai and bought it from a lady who slept on the floor next to it. After I told her I'd take it, she told me she really loved it, but it was now too small for her.....ALTAR! What? I just bought someone's place of worship? Ugh! As I glanced around I realized that she now had a much larger place with dozens of little candles and little wooden idols of this and that. I hightailed it (do you ever picture where that term "high tailed" came from? I'm picturing the far side of a deer or rabbit flying over a hedge...tail high in the air, which means the description really doesn't at all describe my exit moves in this case) and got the heck out of there. Do not worry about me or the trunk...it got a good praying over and extra sanding. Leaving so fast did get in the way of me getting the key that actually opens this baby up for storage, but I am so not going back to the altaress looking for the key to anything.

Why is it that people expect little wooden things to have any ability to do anything but gather dust, is beyond even the lowest level of my reasoning, and I'm wondering what the real God question is all about.

Little wooden figure vs. living breathing man alive after being dead.

I'm going with the live guy over the wooden guy anyday, bet my life on it!

Anyway...old trunk....new trunk...white as snow I might add.

And then forgive me if it ever seems like I am anything other than completely shocked when something turns out well. This is the Pitcher's old-old room. Largest person in the house always had the smallest room, but that's because back in '91, a 3 year old has limited negotiating skills when it comes to picking out your bedroom in the new house.

Plain old builder's grade closet doors...filigree trim added to the top.

Leaded glass from a garage sale, one of 2 for $30.00...hanging 75 pounds of glass, not so easy. D and his macho to the rescue.

I am very not-good at the wall and accessory stuff and blank walls in some houses means they are still moving in...in mine is means...I'm stuck for what to do. So feel free to leave some advice on finishing touches.

Anyway, I just need to say...Home Goods...you complete me!

Latest project...

2009-11-07T08:32:00.000-08:00

Don't you just know God's got a list like that for me, the latest thing he's working on. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not just a little bipolar in my relationship with him... there are days that are higher than high and I could say "yes" to anything and days when, with my eyes closed, I want to lift just one finger to his suggestion and ask "could ya hold that thought till I feel like it?"

Hindsight can show some mighty amazing happenings in the heavenlies. Last week about this time, I wanted to quit...well, most everything. At least the things that were causing conflict and pain. Without all the gorey details, let me just say that volunteering for or agreeing to anything ministry-related was the last thing I wanted to do.

Someone spoke two lines to me last week that I will fight for a long time. "You have no right to be a Bible Study leader" & "Your work in ministry gives brings you credit or accolades" (I think that meant I do it for my own glory & attention). Though these words came from a person, flesh and blood to begin with, the enemy has used those statements to grind me to an emotional halt.

Just ouch... I can't even tell you that is what was said exactly, but given the option, I feel things in the most critical way possible. Because who can do a better job of beating me up than, well, me.

On the other side of my world...
an opportunity to go Uganda in 2010 with a team that trains pastor's and ministers to women and children. Like a dream come true...even recently expressed publicly, I could go to a place my heart has always been drawn to, where my Compassion child lives, serving God without any fluff. Gettin' down and dirty to the heart of loving, serving and ministering to a people hungry to even hold a bible. Um hm...my kind of people, my kind of place, a God sized opportunity.

BUT...I was wounded, deeply, for seizing these kind of opportunities.

Wounded where I am most vulnerable, my aching to serve the One that pulled me out of the gutter and set me back on my feet.

I am reading a book with a couple of girlfriends. "In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day" by Mark Batterson.

LIFE CHANGING book about surviving and thriving when opportunity roars.

So here I was with a mightly roaring...all excited by the possibility, yet two statements haunt me "You have no right ... & your motives are selfish".

Whew, is that a battle!...truth or lies? me or You? safety or risk? stay or go?
I believe scripture when it talks about the Holy Spirit's job of testifying to the truth. So I wore those statements like a heavy cloak while praying for Him to reveal to me where my thoughts, motives, and desire to serve him fall short of glorifying Him. Where my excitement and enthusiasm serve me rather than others, when I am moving ahead on my own path rather than His, leading others when maybe I should only follow.

So God and I spent some time and tears wrestling through truth and lies. Afterwards, I got to humbly take the cloak off. Corrections noted, throw my hands in the air and feel the freedom again, that I am set free to experience and use for His cause.

Against, my protective instincts, I believe I choose to walk on.

I believe Uganda will probably put another target on my back if someone doesn't understand, but if my savior can carry the cross on his and take the beating he did for me, I believe I can take a few correcting lashes for Him.

Thank you, Lord, for keeping me on your project list. Corrections noted, humbly bowed, can't wait for Uganda.

Thank you for holding an umbrella in my storm

2009-10-31T13:23:00.000-07:00

Most days I am full of enthusiasm for the day, expectation for the future and my favorite, reflection on the past. Most days I can see the light at the end of a short tunnel and am confident it is there, even if this current tunnel is long. Most nights I lay my head on the pillow, even when I'm alone, feeling exhausted from the full day, but content, falling asleep as my mind whispers thanks to my God. Most mornings I wake up knowing that my desires for the day will be frustrated by so many "have tos" that I must adjust my "get tos" and "want tos". I wish it were the other way around. Most days I look forward to the quiet time I spend either in my Bible study or reading a good book or with Dell. Most days, anyway.

Today,though, and yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that...are not most days. Today I don't want to wake up. Today I can't see the tunnel, I am swallowed up by it, and there is no light. Today, I will not get to my "have tos" and I have no "want tos". I have the house to myself but I need the quiet to drown out the noise. My Bible, full of comfort sits within arms reach and yet I can't reach it, or hear it, don't know it. Today I can't remember the past, and I don't want tomorrow.

My umbrella holder is gone for two mornings, two days, two nights and all the time in between. The storm rages and I am soaked...whatever else falls on me is likely to run right off because there is afterall, a saturation point with all things. I just want to go home except, I am there. I just want everything like it was, except that it isn't. I just want to get up from a heap on the floor, except I am up.

Umbrella holder, I miss you. I know you can't make it stop, but you are mighty strong in keeping me upright and covered from the worst. Umbrella holder, I miss you. You are mighty good at holding the towel over my heart trying to protect it. Umbrella holder, I miss you. You are mighty, perfectly, wonderfully good at looking in my eyes and speaking hope to me and helping put the truth back when it gets washed out of place in the torrent. I just miss you.

I don't know about anybody else but...

2009-10-26T23:07:00.000-07:00

I don't know about anybody else. I know that in my vision, one face stands out, one heart sits quietly at a deep level of peace, but layered with an unsettled discontent because she wants to do so much for her God.

I don't know about anybody else, but in my vision I see someone so able and willing to love another without hesitation, yet unsure if anybody outside of the obligated few, love her because they know her, or just because she is a sister. One face wonders if surviving blow after social blow from the enemy is about learning to endure loneliness especially when orchestrated by another, or if there is perhaps a flaw inside that is so big it truly repels the embrace of the others.

I don't know about anybody else, but in my vision I see a heart big enough to walk from here to there with anyone else that is available, not standing to wait for a chosen one for accompaniment.

From where I sit, this heart reflects a fullness of the Spirit that will burst without release, while simultaneously breaking with the injustice or tragedy upon another.

I don't know about anybody else, but I see tenderness and true humility, choosing God even when he is calling for discomfort, rejected and turning to love again, immediately.

I don't know about anybody else, but from where I stand, 40 or 400 or 4000 women in the room does not mask, confuse or reduce the glow that makes this woman shine for her savior. It is not a microphone, committee position or charisma that makes her presence memorable. She could not hide herself from view if she wanted to.

You see she is her Savior's daughter, so connected to the vine, sticking so close, when you look her direction, it is difficult to see where her father ends and she begins. Where others have ventured out for a little sunshine of their own, she is content in the shade of his stature, bearing fruit according to his every instruction.

"Be not deceived...", "Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.."

I don't know about anybody else...but I have witnessed some shining. The noonday sun does nothing differently from what it did at midnight, it is consistant in its heat and light day after day after day. BUT...my position in relationship to some holy shining has left me humbled and changed.

I don't know about anybody else...but I have been blessed and challenged to live the same, love the same and grab hold a little tighter to the One who has pressed such an image into my heart and friend into my life.

Yes huh I did

2009-10-22T16:02:00.000-07:00

Ok...time is short, but I have the most fun post if you are into taking something used, a little dirty and flufflessly weak and turning it into something beautius. I bought a sofa that I thought had potential. Winter white it was when I spotted it and made an offer and hurriedly paid for it before I actually uncovered it from all the bedding, draperies, misc shower curtains etc... usually found at a garage sale. I was so excited to find something that might actually look like exactly what I want that I forgot to figure in the "been used" in someone's else's place and probably has some wear and tear. Anyway I bought it anyway...yes huh I did.

Dot has definately found the ultimate in cleaning solutions for carpet and upholstery...Amonia...with water and amazing. So I set about on the spots, which after it dried is so much cleaner than the rest, that I will have to go back and equally clean all surfaces so that the color is uniform. Thankfully just before and not just after, Mooch found some fun mud in the back yard and this particular blend of wet dirt must also be the main ingrediant in the drink, Rock Star. He was so crazy with excitement that he ran into the house, all through the house, up on the new old sofa, around on the off -white carpet, through the tile kitchen etc...Yes huh he did.

So after the cleaning, I ripped open the cushions and added stuffing from throw pillows I have been storing in case I ever put that comforter I am also storing from 1987 back on a bed and need just the right throw pillows to compliment it. Don't be silly, of course I felt a rush using those old pillows for something and wanted to tell my "throw everything away" husband...see I knew I would use them again!

Then I pulled out all the fabrics that I bought 1 and 2 yards of because I just couldn't decide which was my favorite and started covering the smaller pillows. I was taken over by some sort of pillow spirit that just kept me crankin' and I am so dang happy with how it turned out.

Pillow #1...I embroidered these guys on the front and back because I have that fancy embroidery machine, yes huh I did.

Pillow #2...I removed the original fringe from the pillow and used it inside out...or bottom side up or something...because I love the loops...but enough fringe already. yes huh I did.

Pillow #3...plain old regular square pillow in pretty green fabric.

Pillow #4...yes that is contrast piping I made myself, using fabric that matches another of the pillows, yes huh I did. Vwaaaa Laaaaa...PB it's not, but how fun was that!

Perhaps for this day...

2009-10-16T20:14:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it was for this day....that you were such a girly girl, playing with headbands and barretts and dress up shoes

Perhaps it was for this day...you let your rebellion be known in a Spanish class, telling us you weren't planning on college anyway

Perhaps it was for this day...you have always been drawn to small suffering bald headed children

Perhaps it was for this day...you had to deal with people's raised eyebrows when you chose going to beauty school instead of college

Perhaps it was for this day...you drove 3 hours every day to Santa Monica to cosmetology school

Perhaps is was for this day...you met a young man who took you to a church called Reality where you would meet this child

Perhaps it was for this day...you unexpectedly became a young family drawing you into relationship with these other young families, one who had this child

Perhaps it was for this day...that your own pain has tendered your heart into one so sensitive to His leading

Perhaps it is for this day...you have been born....to serve another....with courage and tenderness...to serve this child

Perhaps on this day, all that has come before, makes some sense and brings worth and hints of a higher plan by a Higher Planner, for this child.

Perhaps for this day...

Plagerized from Craig's list...

2009-10-07T13:03:00.000-07:00

Because you've got to give credit to creativity wherever you find it!

POSTED UNDER FREE ITEMS Orange Popsicles
"A regular box of popsicles includes cherry, (my favorite), grape (it'll do) and orange. I don't like the orange ones. I'm a grown-up and I don't have to eat them if I don't want to. On the other hand I can't bring myself to throw them away and I don't have children or grandchildren living in the area to give them to (assuming that they would like them). I currently have 25 orange popsicles in my rather small freezer.

If you want them let me know. If you are paranoid about them, you probably shouldn't be on Craigslist in the first place, but keep in mind that they are all "factory sealed" and whoever takes them probably isn't going to end up on the 6:00 news due to being poisoned by orange popsicles.

(My favorite line)Rest assured, someone is going to want these popsicles, so you probably better hurry. If you really like them maybe we could develop an ongoing "Popsicle to Recipient" relationship whereby I sent you an E-mail whenever the freezer overfloweth and you make another pick-up.

Keep in mind that a box of popsicles costs about $2.50 (new lower price whereby the store tries to create good will, while still making a pretty good profit!) and you are only getting 1/3 of a box...or in this case, 1/3 of several boxes. The point is I don't think you should consider driving from Simi for the orange popsicles. But if you do and are first, I will give them to you.

FAQ:
Q. Are they sugar-free?
A. Do I SOUND like someone who buys sugar free popsicles? No they aren't.

Alphabet Scoop

2009-10-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

So just know before you start this one, I am on my soap box. I can't help it, it was one of those days. Days where I had the television on while I worked and heard the news and top stories rebroadcast at 8, 11 & noon. The same headlines and the same steam coming out my ears and the same call towards heaven to rightside up our upside down world.

David, David, David. Letterman. King of late night talk. And I'm just saying..."talk" is apparently not all he's been doing in the kingdom with the subjects that help him earn the ridiculous salary he enjoys, which, as it turns out, it not all he enjoys.

Here's the truth Dave, its just a title, "King", just a phrase, just a moment of favor with the late night public. No special rules, no exemptions.

News feed otherwise knows as spin: "David Letterman target of extortion plot, admits affairs with staff and helps authorities arrest the real bad guy, who is now in jail, thanks to the cooperation of the king." My paraphrase...you're welcome.

Selfish and repulsive. Betraying his girlfriend-turned wife with the girls at the office and what strikes me as outrageous is that another man is behind bars facing a long sentence for his misconduct, while Mr. Alphabet is cruising along, probably increasing his viewership.

So I spent the day trying to figure out why and when extortion became a crime. Now, I don't mean it's right by any means. But it sounds to me like this was a guy offering a contract, an agreement, to someone with a few skeletons in the closet. A business deal.

I will sell the rights "to tell your secret" back to you for $2,000,000.

Sounds like an incredible sum, but all good negotiators start high and leave room for compromise and for heaven's sake, how much is the King worth? (I don't even know, you could google it.)

But suddenly an adulterer, traitor, betrayer becomes the victim in the shadow of a guy whose error was offering to sell his story to the wrong entity. He went to the guy who was likely MOST motivated to protect himself from the consequences of his actions, rather than some check-stand weekly gossip magazine that would have purchased the story, albiet for less, but paid well for the secrets. No crime, no harm, no foul, no extortion no jail.

All the while, as only the media can do, (because we purchase, listen and buy into it) his potential partner in the secret keeping, is in jail and Letterman, poor Letterman, must admit his folies to the public. A public, I might add that will, no doubt, still tune in.

There must have been quite a meeting behind closed doors with his publicists and law enforcement. The success of the plot, to pull the wool over our eyes, has become apparent. He gets to make the announcement on his "familiar, comfortable, I'm still Letterman" set, and admit the truth.

Not because he was a broken, sorry, accept responsibility kind of guy, but because he knew it was going to be made public anyway, so I'm guessing Davey got scared and made a deal. "I'll cooperate, but I decide how and when this goes public, and I still get to be the King."

He looks victimized, and the bully is behind bars. Whew, that was close.

I'm sorry, except that I'm not at all sorry, but this whole deal begs a few questions.

What if the guy had asked for $200,000 or $20,000 instead of $2,000,000? I mean I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say that it was not his moral highground that made him say "No" and call the authorities, but probably, the price. I'm going to guess maybe arrogance and anger that someone else, at least for a moment, was going to call the shots on his reputation.

So I wonder, what is it worth to him to protect his wife & son from the shame and betrayal of his actions? I'm not saying it would have, but if ripping your clothes off with another woman, will ultimately rip your wife's heart out, at least look like you are trying to protect them, no matter what the cost.

We already know he doesn't think she's worth his self control, or denying himself the pleasure of another woman, she isn't worth that much to him.

I'm wondering if he considered a meeting with a marriage counselor about the coming damage to his family or if his strategic powwows were limited to his professional life and reputation.

Don't even think about giving him the benefit of the doubt.

She was his faithful live-in for 20 years before he decided she was worth a legal commitment...but I guess not quite worth the whole "keeping only unto you" marital commitment.

The wrong guy's in jail. That's all I'm saying. Who exactly was damaged or devastated by the contract to keep the secret? Weigh that against the damage and devastation of a family because of a broken marriage promise. And if we think its just another example of celebrity lifestyle and doesn't effect the everyday guy...PLEASE we are so bombarded with this stuff it has become the norm and the culture just keeps swirling the toilet bowl.

The king at our house even asked the other day if the new fall line up was all based on sex. Yep, different settings, different names, same story. I'm thinking about unplugging the magical box of entertainment just so we doesn't get desensitized!

So Letterman will live on, I doubt sponsors will pull out, I am hoping some staffer/harrem types do. He'll suffer no public embarrassment thanks to the guy wanting to sell the rights to the secret who now sits in the dungeon. The King's publicist should get a raise, for this expert manuever and protection of the Kingdom.

But in the King's private quarters, does the Queen still delight in his company? Visit him of her own accord, build him up to the prince? The king may just find that though he thought $2,000,000 was too high a price for his behavior...what he has lost in the eyes and hearts of his family cannot be bought back, at any price. I pray they matter to him that much, if only in retrospect.

Swear there should be one...

2009-09-26T20:14:00.001-07:00

I told D tonight there should be a fire dept blog after he told me about last shift.

D: "we got a call last night"

Me: um hm

D: "subject not breathing at Reardon's funeral home"

????

Me: "well then, all is right with the world."

D: Um hm

Me: K

And we painted the kitchen, BLUE, sorry green lovers. D had an opinion and he has so few when it comes to decorating until after its done and then brags about how amazing I am, which says much more about his amazing talent of keeping the paint brush out of his hand, than his decorating sense.
Plus the newlywed was all for the blue and Dot came by and helped me tame it to a managable cottage level and its still darker than she advised, but the quart of white we dumped into the custom mixed gallon was gone and I was so primed to just get it painted and we were on a roll, I refused to drive to the store for the 4th time today and yes I know the color wheel was supposed to prevent that.
I am having 80's flashbacks and have prohibited all things "country" from my cottage, but if shoulder pads and big bangs come back...I'm in!

Some days deep...other days colorful!

2009-09-26T10:33:00.000-07:00

...blue not quite right here

Today I'm ready to paint the kitchen...well I've actually been ready for days, except that totally ready would include a paint choice. Samples yesterday...pallette laid out bare before you...colors don't look quite right in the picture, so I'm gonna have to go back and check to see if that was a lighting thing with the flash or really wrong blue...

better blue? Thank you newlywed!

blue or green? blue or green? blue or green? blue or green?

Very possibly someone who gets me...

2009-09-24T21:13:00.000-07:00

It is the desire of our hearts to be understood. I'm talking a soul mate type of connection that often reduces communication to a simple knowing nod or a look that speaks volumes.
I think that the phrase "I'm so busy"...is overused. Not that it is inaccurate, I mean, please, baby boomers were born in the fast lane and we cannot help but keep running just to stay up with old news. It has taken all my energy to learn things that are, by time I start to understand them, obsolete, which completely explains why the stereo system in the car keeps reading ERROR when I'm trying to listen to my Eagles 8 track.

Anyway, the world has evolved beyond us. Our kids are sailing along just fine, passing us by, without even a moment of tutorial. I think we deserve that. Please, we invented the world wide web for heaven's sake and paid for the first computer that brought that Inter-gem into their childhood home!

Anyway...back to being understood and the effort life takes to keep up. I am exhausted. I feel like every minute of everyday is booked for the next 17 years of my life. Not that 1926 promises anything calm, it's just that I am planning not to just slow down at age 65, but just be SLOW. I may run like the wind until then and hit that golden age like its a cement wall, but come what may, I plan to have hours everyday when I get to do absolutely nothing productive and simply begin to process the Post-Dramatic-Stress-Disorder that 65 years as a boomer has caused.

In the meantime, I just want someone to understand. I am trying as hard as I can. I am working as hard as I can. I say "yes" way too often and enjoy every minute of everything I say yes to, mostly. Its the thought of everything I am doing and trying to get the current thing finished up so I get to move on to the next fun thing.
Even as I write this, D has been sitting on the sofa next to me for 2+ hours, available and ready for bed "whenever you are". Every once in a while I try to explain to him how jealous I am that both of his jobs are "go, start, finish, leave" and don't thing about it again until the next time you "go, start, finish, leave". Jealous, I am and exhausted.

He tries so hard to be sympathetic and is really good at offering to help with whatever, which is great, but its not the same as someone really getting the weight of it all. Someone who understands why even my sleep position has changed to having one foot on the floor ready to jump at the 2nd, 3rd or 4th light of day.

Then today...I found him. My soul mate, the one other soul on this planet that knows what it feels like to be on the ready even when it looks like we are resting. Oh the weight of a life filled with responsibility...lucky for you, I had my camera to capture both the one who understands and proof that true rest for the few of us never really comes...

Trust me when I tell you that his eyes are closed...sound asleep with his paws on the fence, just in case he needs to spring to his feet at any urgency. So much in common, so much understanding. I did crop out the things we do not have in common. You're welcome.

Finally...understanding...exhausted understanding. ahhh, the Mooch!

PS. I love my new map gadget, but I am undone with intrigue over the dots out of So Ca. Please take a sec and comment with a sign in. A Gmail ID is pretty easy and I'd love to know who you are and where you are from.

We probably kind of get it...but maybe not really at all.

2009-09-22T21:14:00.000-07:00

Following up to yesterday's post...the little 5 year old "miss" and her parents are just beginning their journey. A road God has called them to walk, except for the days when they will barely feel like crawling, and the days He will give them the joy and peace to dance. Their path, named by the Oncologist...Cancer. I can only imagine the myriad of emotions. The questions, the uncertainty, the fear. No amount of faith, and their's is the mountain moving size, no amount of faith removes our humanness. We were created to feel, to love and to grieve, not be immune. We are called to "cast our cares on Him" not cast them aside. We also know that "God has plans for us...prospering plans, not harmful plans" so how on earth do we reconcile cancer and a 5 year old?

The Sacrificial Life...do we get it?
And if we did, would we be willing?
Would we still choose it, choose Him if we knew what might lie ahead?
Is He worth it only to a point and will we turn back given something as extreme as the life of our child? Or is He really who He says he is, loving and "for" us, no matter what the circumstances look like? And what if what He says is true, that this life is just a minute in time, compared to eternity?

What on earth could God be planning to accomplish that justifies the toll that chemotherapy will take on a body that still requires a car seat?

Admittedly today, I only have questions...lots of them and no answers. Lucky for all of us, God trusts me with an inquiring mind only and no responsibility to figure His stuff out.

We could drown in what ifs. Except that what if's bring so much hope. So this morning before my eyes even knew if it was day or still night, and I began praying, my pleas went from the family to so many possible what ifs.

What if this mother's devastation brings an answer to another mother's prayer? What if the nurse's mom has been on her knees for years praying that someone would cross her daughter's path that could speak what she has been begging God for all these years?

What if two weeks of kindergarten has endeared an entire school full of children, parents and teachers to this sweet child so that in following her illness and recovery they all get to watch God work first hand?

What if watching these parents faithfully carry their child through the torture of treatment is the final witness to a family member that has questioned and wondered who God really is?

What if the parents of the child in the next bed, hear and see the troops of friends and church family earnestly praying and encouraging this family in a way that they see the real hope of God? What if they say "we want that peace and hope for our family and the strength you have for our child?"

What if some guy somewhere has been watching this pastor, this leader, who has been so gifted by God, and thinking "well, ya, you can serve and follow a God that has given you so much success, but what now?" and he witnesses first hand, how loving God has nothing to do with how well things look like they are going?

So what if all those things happen as a result? What if it was all that and so much more, that we can't even imagine how many things were accomplished?

Would we be in it for all that? If we knew, could get all the reports and updates? If everytime, we held that tiny hand through another round of chemo, we would be hearing about all the lives that were changed through our family's tragedy? Would we say yes, I'm in, ok? Lives are changed, she gets better and on we go.

What if we knew about only one man. Some sort of hopeless, grouchy, ex-con kind of angry, selfish, guy with a past we wouldn't even want to read about? What if that was the guy our child's suffering would change?

What if the Sacrificial Life we say we believe in and are committed to meant really sacrificing, giving up something so precious, we'd rather die ourselves than live without it or...her?

What if the "greater love" we claim to know, that suggests "we lay down our life for a friend", actually looks like laying down our comfort, security, or the health of a child...then what? Am I still in? Do I still believe Him? Not just IN Him, but believe Him, that he knows best, that he is accomplishing His will, that "all things do work together for good"? Or is my commitment conditional...as long as things are pretty much ok, pretty much most of the time.

Here's the rub, we don't get to choose what happens, just how we respond. This little Miss didn't raise her hand and volunteer for God to use her to accomplish his will. Her parents didn't sign up for such a sacrifice, clearly it would have been their own names on the list, not their baby. We don't get to choose the circumstance, we GET to choose to stay in, plant our feet in cement and call it faith, refuse to think anything other than He KNOW WHAT HE IS DOING.

There's only One who volunteered His child's suffering and death for the most wretched among us, or in us. Only one who chose it...to watch His son's body be broken for the sake of the unworthy.

Chose it, both of them. A child's body beaten, a parent suffering.

Just to give us the chance to understand what real love is, who real love is.

The sacrifical life...we cringe at giving up so much less, its embarrassing. At times, we give up some of the questionable or forbidden and call that sacrifice. Sometimes, we make a meal for someone, hand over $5 or $10 to a cause or a mom standing on the corner and think sacrifice. We give up an hour to comfort a friend, help someone with a project, work in a Sunday School class. Loving, giving, serving...yes...sacrifice? "Take up your cross and follow", sacrifice? "Sell all your belongings and come with Me", sacrifice? Does it hurt, sacrifice?

Use my life in whatever way you desire, Lord, sacrifice? I'm in, sacrifice? Whatever the cost, sacrifice? "I'm sacred to death", sacrifice?

Sacrifice.....
I think we probably kind of get it...but maybe not really at all.

And the world just stops...

2009-09-21T20:21:00.000-07:00

Two families,
one son whose age is still counted in months,
one daughter whose age can be counted on her one tiny hand.

Two mommies,
two daddies,
two doctors,
two hospitals,
two cities in
two counties.

Same thoughts,
same fears,
same prayers,
same tears,
same smiling face for their child,
same weak knees outside the room,
same locked down position at the bedside, just waiting.

Today I heard about these two families. The first already has a diagnosis of cancer, kidney, tumor, surgery. The second story is just unfolding. No diagnosis yet, but ugly xrays, and suspicions and a specialist on his way.

What on earth could be more heart stopping than someone telling you, or suggesting to you that your child...tender, vulnerable, and fragile is sick? Really sick. Sick where you are given percentages, sick. Sick in a way you don't know how to describe or explain it to them sick. Sick in a way that you are desperate to deny. Sick in a way that threatens to destroy you at any moment, except that though it would be easier to give in to being destroyed you are like feet-in-cement standing so that your baby can feel the strength when she holds your hand and looks into your face.

And parents have it, all that strength, because its what we do, come up with every last ounce of life if that's what it takes...for their child. Because everything else falls away. All the pressures and daily parts of life, the cell phone calls, text messages, emails, work demands, food, money......suddenly powerless, meaningless, gone.

The world just stops...

But...God watches. He knows. He's moving. He's acting. He's orchestrating. He's planning. He's been preparing. He's not surprised. He was not caught off guard...No, He is "On" Guard.

The world may have stopped, but heaven is in full motion. He is not just acting. His heart is full of compassion. His mind has full knowledge. He is acting according to His will and His will alone. No one and nothing messes with the kingdom without His understanding and permission. There is no wolf in sheep's clothing to Him. No one is left unprotected. He is mighty enough, strong enough, knowing enough, and loving enough to battle any enemy that threatens. I don't care what its name is, what percentages are attached to it, what the past has said or what the future predicts...HE IS STRONGER. Because HE IS the I AM.

HE IS MORE AMAZING, MORE POWERFUL, MORE WONDERFUL and will, even more so than these parents, summon ALL THE STRENGTH He needs to BE STRENGTH so that when those parents, HIS children, grab for HIS hand to feel strength and look to HIS face to see hope...THEY WILL FIND IT AND NOT BE DISAPPOINTED!

Their worlds have stopped today. Don't let yours. Pray without ceasing for the healing of two of His favorites.

The Bison Award

2009-09-21T18:21:00.001-07:00

OBU- Oklahoma Baptist University- The Bisons

The Bison Award. An award given to someone who exhibits great strength in the midst of battle, a never-give-up fortitude equal only to the weight of its enormous will to stand, even in the worst of storms.

Yep, that's the place! Shawnee greeted us with the best looking - best hugging, California boy we had ever seen east of the Rockies! We got a tour of the beautiful campus, state of the art Wellness Center, well stocked cafeteria, and amazing early american historic looking buildings all decked out in red brick. The humid weather makes everything green and the overcast misty days made me wanna sit with a cup of "hot and bold" and read a good book cuddled under a blanket. Alas, there was little of that, as we had a couple of college kids to visit and I wouldn't be distracted by anything that required me to take my eyes from them.

We were invited into the coaches' office..."Y'all come on in an' have a seat" with that smooth southern accent. Ah ha! "You're the one who was talking my West coast boy across the country! Don't be tryin' that southern sweet talk with me, ya hear!" Thanks to a well timed caution from a wise young woman before I left, I threw no shirts, and talked about how grateful we were for all that they had done for the Pitcher.

I didn't mean it, but I said it, lest he blame me for anything bad that happens down the road.

The Pitcher showed us all the new places he spends his time, most involving weight machines, running shoes and red dirt.

They do a good job keeping the place all spiffy and professional looking as to lure these young innocents away from home. No doubt, they've engaged in family break-up maneuvers before this one.

We saw their local hang outs and dang if they haven't one-upped us with a drive through Starbucks! Think of the treat that would be on a snowy day when you decide to put down your good book, peel off the blanket and venture out for some gourmet "hot and bold"! And in Shawnee, you could afford the $4.00 java because gas prices make me ashamed to say I even drive a car in California.

Just because I love an adventure, I have to notice all things different. Here are my top 11 things (what? everybody does 10) that make Shawnee a great destination.

You're welcome.

11. You could hear a tornado warning at anytime!

1o. 30,000 people...at least 30 churches, mostly Baptist and Church of Christ. Just the idea that a town any size wants 30+ churches!

9. Dollar stores out number Starbucks at least 10 to 1.

8. Antique stores with thrift store prices.

7. Buildings made of brick, walkways made of brick, streets formerly brick, now paved over with asphalt...should be a crime.

6. Everybody greets you. Not just a nod, but "How ya'll doin' today?" smile.

5. Only 30 minutes from Hobby Lobby, where they are "closed on Sunday so that their employees can go to church." Hallelujah

4. Fresh baked cookies and fresh made coffee in the hotel lobby EVERYDAY...ALL DAY!

3. Driving anywhere in the city in 3 minutes or less. ok, 4 minutes with traffic, if both of the other cars are in your same left turn lane.

2. Shopping the entire mall in 2 hours. Could be done in less time, except that the two anchor stores Ross and Dillards have amazing deals.

1. The Pitcher and Sasa are there, well, temporarily.

Can I just say that we did more eating than we did anything else? When the Pitcher is at home, he would graze as necessary. When we are in his town, where our hotel room doesn't include a pantry, we must get to food more often and in larger quantites than my digestive routine is used to.

Need I remind us, to always pack a pair of sweat pants for the flight home?

So the week came and went. The Deeds would say his highlights were getting a donut from the breakfast bar at the hotel EVERY morning. Getting to talk about that plan and get permission from his mommy, at bedtime EVERY night. Then telling me "DD, I dot a donut" afterwards.

Having cereal with Unca Wyan, making a present in the bathroom for Sasa, and the sleepovers & pillowfights. Dot would say getting to see her "puddy pal" and getting 50% off at hobby lobby!

D and I would say getting our arms around the Pitcher again, seeing his new, (albiet temporary, yes ha), life, school and apartment. Seeing how easily he handles anything that comes his way and how comfortable he is with his decision to take on his own adventure helps us adjust to being home.

Leaving to come home??? I won't even go there.

Except to say...ME! I'll take the Bison Award.

An award given to someone who exhibits great strength in the midst of battle, a never give up fortitude equal only to the weight of its will to stand, even in the worst of storms. (ok, I totally made that up, but it could be true.)

The homecoming negotiations have ceased for the moment. Believe D when he says "that this mama's heart is quiet only on the outside". There is a storm going on alright, but for now, I will loan my Pitcher to the Bisons of OBU.

And at least for today, I guess D and I will hunker down and just try to wait this one out.

'nough said

2009-09-17T21:25:00.000-07:00

That's Shawnee, Oklahoma for ya!

'Nough said!