The Revolving Kitchen

It happened again, just the other day. I stopped by my dear friend's house and carried in a bag full of various plastic containers, dishes, etc., all from her kitchen. When I left a little while later I held in my hand a bag full of similar items from my kitchen. I smiled as I got in my pickup. You see... my friend and I have kind of a revolving kitchen. Simply put, we share things, and often. If I cook up something I know she'll love, I set a little aside and take it to her next time I head into town (where she happens to live) and she does the same for me. Or, I'll bake up a pan of goodies for her whole family to enjoy (her husband and two adorable boys) Usually, though, our exchanges are much less intentional, one or the other of us at the other person's house and we just end up sending something home. Sometimes when she is at the market and finds something she knows I would love, she'll buy some and bring it along when she comes. It just seems we can hardly visit one another empty handed. Thus... the kitchen items going back and forth, creating what I like to call, the revolving kitchen.

It CAN have its frustrations, of course. Sometimes I'll start to search for a certain item (and with a fairly limited supply of kitchenware I don't have extra baking pans and such, so when something is missing, I'm stuck!), only to remember, after moments of wondering how on earth I could misplace anything in my small kitchen, that I sent it to my friend's house and have not yet retrieved it. However, the frustration is short lived as I improvise with something else while smiling with thankfulness that I have a dear friend like her. The momentary frustrations are well worth the long-lasting blessings.

I was thinking about our revolving kitchens the other day as I was preparing for my trip back to the States. My friend has taught me a lot about sharing and giving, but I realize that it is actually typical for the culture. I stopped by another friend's house the other day, and as I was leaving she apologized profusely for not having anything "nice" to give me on my way home. She filled my arms with a big bunch of plantains, all the while commiserating that she did not have more to give me. She even offered to send some corn tortillas home with me to accompany whatever I fixed for dinner. Ah yes, friends are a blessing! Another friend did send a bundle of piping hot homemade corn tortillas home with me this past week. I dropped some stuff off at her house and was headed home. She felt sorry for me arriving home late without dinner and quickly wrapped up some tortillas to take along. Just the week before I had brought some watermelon for her, icy cold from my refrigerator, knowing that she doesn't have a refrigerator, neither does she live close to the Mennonites who raise the watermelons like I do. Revolving kitchens... it is the way things are done here among the Maya and Kek'chi people.

But really, their lives are revolving: they care and share with one another so freely. They help each other plant their corn and thatch their houses. While the men work, the women gather to prepare a common meal (and of course share the latest gossip).

A stunning example of their revolving lives took place just a month or so ago. Some other friends of mine lost their home to a fire. Everything was lost. Of course, there isn't fire insurance, and the family of five (parents, a six year old, and 8 month old twins) was left homeless and with only the clothes on their backs. Since I had a vehicle, I was able to be there ahead of most others, and took some of the necessities: diapers for the babies, food, some clothes. So very little compared to their glaring need, but at least it was a start. A couple days later I listened to the pastor in a neighboring village (where this family is originally from) mention the tragedy and announce that he would open the church that afternoon for those who would like to bring donations for the family. I thought he wouldn't get much response, because no buses travel on Sunday, and the people would have no way to go to down to buy things, or get money from the bank. That afternoon I watched in amazement as person after person came with gifts: pots, pans, cups, a couple spoons, sugar, corn, beans, clothes, buckets (highly-prized in these communities for carrying water, laundry, and storing clothing), etc. Most items were already loved, but still very usable. Everyone brought what they could. For people who often live in single-roomed thatch houses with only the bare necessities, they are a generous people. For example, the pastor's belongings could all easily fit in a large van, and yet... they give.

My heart was convicted that afternoon as I sat there. Tears teased the corners of my eyes as I saw people with so little give so much. I realized afresh that they have more than revolving kitchens, they have revolving hearts. For them, to give is just a way of life. No matter how little you have, you share. When you cook a pot of beans, you send some over to your mother-in-law, just in case she hasn't cooked beans today. When tragedy strikes, you don't think of the fact that you might need those sheets next week, you give them, because your neighbor needs them today. I want a heart like that. A heart that loves and gives. A heart that has received much from our Father, and therefore has much to give to others. I don't want to hold on to things just because I might need them, or because they make me comfortable, I want to bless as I have been blessed. I want to pour out as fast as Christ pours in. I want a revolving heart. Do you?

God's Word

Friends,

I went to a Kek'chi speaking church last night. Nothing too surprising about that, after all, I live in a primarily Kek'chi speaking village. However, lately I have been spending quite a bit of time at Mopan Maya speaking churches because of some particular ministry opportunities, and because, quite frankly, it is easier for me. I understand Mopan, and I do not understand Kek'chi. I am also more comfortable with the worship style. Last night I was enjoying a rare and much needed quiet evening and really drug my feet about walking across my backyard to the church. But, I went.

I prayed and worshipped the Lord in my heart throughout the song service, and then the message began. The pastor announced his text as Habakkuk 3. Hmm... haven't heard someone preach from that book in a while. I turned in my Bible and read along as he read the chapter in Kek'chi. I am actually not too sure what he preached about. I do know he said a little of it in English for my  benefit, but I was struck by the verses at the end, and want to share them with you today.

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
        nor fruit be on the vines,
    the produce of the olive fail
        and the fields yield no food,
    the flock be cut off from the fold
        and there be no herd in the stalls,
    yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
        I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
    GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
        he makes my feet like the deer's;
        he makes me tread on my high places.
    To the choirmaster: with stringed instruments.
(Habakkuk 3:17-19 ESV)

Basically, even if my world is crumbling around me, and it doesn't even look like I will have even my basic necessities, still I will rejoice in the Lord, in His goodness, in His love, in His strength, in the blessings He has poured freely, in the forgiveness, restoration, and fellowship I have because He so loved that He gave...

Oh, my friends, I want that to be true of me. That I rejoice in my precious Lord, regardless of present circumstances. I have been holding out on a few things in my rejoicing. Oh, I have been thankful for His blessings, but my joy would be complete, I could truly rejoice if He would answer these certain prayer requests (especially concerning the land, etc.). But, He has already given me all I need for my present. He has given me all I need for eternity. I have much to rejoice in. His great, unfailing love. The mercy He pours on my undeserving soul. The fellowship I have with the God of the universe because of the blood of His Son. Therefore, I will choose to rejoice in my God, to praise His name, even if the fig tree does not blossom, the land situation does not work out the way I want, the other projects don't come together the way I envision them... I will rejoice in my God even if...

I am thankful for the living Word of God. That even though I went to church somewhat grudgingly last night, I couldn't understand most of the service, His presence was there and He spoke to me through His mighty Word. I rejoice.

Catching up…

Greetings to one and all and my sincere apologies for not keeping up on my blog! I went back to Belize on the 14^th of September, and just arrived back in the States again. I had a wonderful fall season in Belize and look forward to sharing the stories of God's work with you! I plan on updating the blog over the next few days with posts about events that took place over the last few months. The Lord has continued to be so faithful, and it is a joy to step back and look at what He has accomplished.
Thank you for your continued prayers and support, they mean so very much to me!

One of my favorite flowering trees/bushes in Belize. Only blooms around Christmas time.

Returning...

After a busy summer of being with my family, lots of free-lance writing to generate some income, and speaking at some churches, the day is approaching for me to return to Belize. I leave Friday. I am currently awash in the sea of emotions that fill my last few days... I am excited to be headed back to Belize, but leaving my wonderful family here in the States never seems to get easier. And so, the tug of war is hard at work inside me, adding to the stress of last minute preparations.

Besides the emotions, I am busy checking things off my list... did I remember what so and so asked me to bring? Did I get this? Yikes. I'll be glad when all of that is over, even if it does herald the time to say goodbye once again...

I have a couple prayer requests I'd like to share with you in this post, if you don't mind:

• Safety in travels, and grace for all the emotions that will come in the next few days.
• Rally - on the 29th, TNYE (Toledo Nazarene Youth Empowerment) has planned another youth rally, this time in San Jose. Clifford is in the midst of a bunch of preparation for that event, since it is in his home village, and his youth group is hosting it. Finances for feeding a crowd are needed, as well as wisdom in all the particulars. His theme for the rally is a great one: “Solemn Gathering for God's Vision and Victory for Young People,” highlighting the verses from Joel 1:14 and 2:28. He and the rest of the team are praying for an awakening among the young people, a realization of the need of a true relationship with Jesus Christ, and a turning to the Lord for a change in the nation of Belize. Would you join all of us in prayer for this event?

The Work of a Few or the Work of God through a Few

I don't know about where you live, but in Belize, one of the ways Satan tries to destroy the church is through the spreading of malicious gossip. Sound familiar? The sad thing is that often the gossip originates and spreads within those who claim to be part of the body of Christ, even leaders, such as pastors and evangelists. What a contrast to what Jesus says those who follow Him should look like: "By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another (John 13:35).”

Sometime in May, a pastor asked me if it was true that a certain church in Toledo was "dead." I had heard this rumor going around about this particular church, so I asked him what he meant by dead, figuring that after all, only God truly knows the state of being of His church. True to what I had heard, he said that he heard the church is closed and the pastor is no longer active. I smiled and invited him to attend the rally being held by this "dead" church the next month. He and his church did attend, and I trust he found his answers.

It is true that the Pueblo Viejo church congregation is not large, but there is a small nucleus of church members there that pull together to accomplish large feats. This was again demonstrated on June 8th -10th. They invited a guest speaker and music group from Guatemala and then began to invite a host of churches to attend the series of three services. Their pastor, Honoratus Choc, is the same man who nearly missed ordination last year due to surgery near his eye right before District Assembly. He is a man of dedication and commitment. Together with a core group of church members, he trusted God to give them the strength and ability to bless a large number of people through this event.

Preparation was extensive, including building a thatch building for a kitchen, cutting (with machete) a massive quantity of firewood for cooking, and coordinating the group coming from Guatemala. By the time that whole event was finished, they were all exhausted and spent, but still wearing smiles. I had the privilege of watching them bless the lives of many as they tirelessly prepared meals (Sunday's meal included a whole beef and a large quantity of chicken), hauled water (no running water in Pueblo), and facilitated the large crowd that gathered. I don't think any of them were able to sit in the service and be ministered to by the guest speaker, but they allowed many others to do so, and it brought them great joy.

I heard several comments afterward about the sacrifice they made, wondering what benefit the church received for all that work, effort, and expense. I don't think that the benefits can be measured in physical terms. The church probably won't suddenly be filled with more people, they didn't gain wealth, and their hard work will quickly be forgotten. However, God's work is not ultimately measured in physical things, and I trust their reward will be eternal. And what a privilege they had to be ministers of God's love to others through that special event. I heard that the day after it was over, they had gathered again, working together to finish all the clean up and eating a meal of beans and tortillas together. I am sure that the fellowship was sweet. While others spoke of deadness, these people were willingly giving of themselves to bless others. I pray their efforts were a testimony to others!

Servant Leadership

One of my greatest joys as I work in Belize is seeing God working through the lives of those around me. I wish I had the time to relate more incidents in this blog, but an instance several weeks ago was a particular blessing.

In January of this year, Clifford and a young married man from Big Falls, Julio Chub, were responsible for hosting a remarkable youth rally at Big Falls. As a result of this event, a number of young men in San Jose, Clifford’s home village, became interested in attending church. The next month, Clifford became the host of the Wednesday night services in San Jose, which the church board designated as a special service for young people. Of course, the adults are still present and active in the services, but it provides a special opportunity for the young people to participate in leading songs and sharing verses, while the messages are usually geared to encouraging the young people to follow God with their lives. 

The influence of Clifford’s life has quickly become evident as the young guys look up to him and rally around the services and other events. A recent outreach was a great example of Clifford’s leadership. He has been involved in a project to finish up the construction of the new church building in San Benito Poite, and it needed just a little more work on the plastering of the walls and sealing the windows. He invited the young men from his church to join him in this effort one morning. He set out early Wednesday morning in the pickup to meet the guys (who were travelling on the public transportation bus) at 5:15 by the junction. 

I travelled to Poite a little later on the motorcycle and was blessed by what I saw. 13 young men and the pastor (Clifford’s father) had come, at their own expense) to help Clifford with the project. These guys ranged in age from 13 to 20, and were all busy working. It was an impressive sight. Joyful laughter accompanied their diligent labors, all under the watchful eye of Clifford, who alternately lead by example and walked around encouraging the others in their labors. No one complained when he gave direction or made corrections. God has truly blessed him with an amazing set of leadership skills and integrity of character that has made him an inspiring leader for the younger guys. I came away that day with a sense of hope that God will raise up a new generation to seek and serve Him. My prayer is that they would take up the torch of truth and grow to know the Lord in greater ways than the generation before them.

A few pictures of the guys:

The Boss Man himself :)

The "German" work & witness team :)

 

Since much of the church building work here in Belize is done by Work and Witness teams, I was informed that this team was from Germany. They had great fun playing up the part, asking me questions as if they were newcomers to the area. The joyful spirits and diligent work was a delightful mix. 

Email Update

I just sent out a very overdue update about the work in Belize. If you didn't get a copy and would like one, please let me know!

Some things are just hard

I'll be going to a service this evening, and then a funeral tomorrow for a man who took his own life by hanging last week. I much prefer funerals that celebrate the life of someone who faithfully served the Lord with their life. However, we rarely get to choose the circumstances that are pleasant for us. The man's father is a long-time member of the San Jose church, so we will be going to support him in this difficult time.

The verses I read in Isaiah this morning are timely:
"He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of His people He will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken. It will be said on that day, 'Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.'" Isaiah 25:8,9

While nothing can be done for the soul of the man who took his own life, my prayer is that many will come to know the Lord and learn to wait for Him. One day the sorrow and weeping will be over. Those who hold fast to the Lord in the midst of their trials on this earth will one day be able to repeat those words found in Isaiah. I want to be one of those who wait for the Lord. I want to be able to look into my Savior's face and say, "See, here is my God, my Savior. I waited for Him, and He faithfully kept me."

I know there are those that will be at the service tonight, and at the funeral tomorrow who haven't given their lives to God. They are not waiting on His return. Please pray for them. I don't know who will be giving the message at either service, but please pray for anointing on their words. Pray that God will speak through them to the hearts of those in attendance.

Because the man was a member of the Belize Defense Force (the Belizean military), there will be an official BDF delegation in attendance. Many of these men have heard the truth, but turned their backs on it. Many are hopelessly lost and have given their lives to the bondage of alcohol and sin. Please pray that this tragic loss of life will speak to their hearts.They need to learn the blessing of waiting in the presence of God day by day.

Pray for the family as well, the widow and the children.

A Father's Love

How deep the Father's love for us,

How vast beyond all measure

That He should give His only Son

To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,

The Father turns His face away

As wounds which mar the chosen One,

Bring many sons to glory.

This past week I got an up close and personal view of the compelling love a father. A love that consumes and drives. A love that is desperate. A small boy, four years old was missing in San Benito Poite, the remote village where we go to teach Bible study. I was not in the village at the time, but my co-worker, Clifford, was, as well as my other co-worker’s husband, Rick. The whole village joined the search, combing the bushes around the village, searching each home, running up jungle paths. Even young people dove into the river which runs along the village, searching the depths. A year or so ago, two children from another village disappeared and have not been seen since. This family knew this. They were desperate to find that boy. I received a call, telling me of the situation. The boy had already been missing five hours. I shuddered at the thought of what could have happened. The jungle is so close, the river… right there. I prayed and cried out to God. I spread the word and others joined in prayer.

A police report had to be made by the father, which required leaving the village and travelling more than two hours to the police station in town. I can’t imagine the pain he felt when he tore himself away from the search and left to make the report. Why did he go? Because he felt it was best for his son. Maybe it would help him be found. He was desperate. Even though he would have rather kept searching, he went. My pickup was used to take him. After he went to town, they arrived briefly at my house. I saw an anguished father. Only one thought filled his mind as he twisted his ball cap in his hands: his son. I got in the pickup to join the trip back to the village, crying out to God for this man’s son as darkness closed in around the land. It gets darker sooner in the jungle. 

Before we had traveled far, we received a call: the boy had been found! I watched the waves of emotion rush through that man, that father. I watched as his shoulders shook. The look of anguish gave way, but it was not sheer joy that filled his face, instead it was desperation… a desperate wish that he was there with his child right then, he wanted to see him, touch him, know that he was okay. He wanted to keep him safe; hold him tight and never let him face such fear again. We finally arrived in the village and went inside to see the boy sleeping in the arms of his mother. Relief and joy swept across the father’s face then. We stayed only long enough to make sure all was well, then slipped away to let the family rejoice together.

We were fairly quiet as we traveled back, each absorbed in the thoughts and emotions of the situation. It wasn’t until the next day that Clifford voiced what had been tugging the edges of my thoughts: that father’s desperate love showed us a little glimpse of our heavenly Father’s desperate love for His children, and the anguish He must feel when one goes astray. Oh, He never has to wonder where they are, and He knows the outcome, but that desperate willingness to do anything to bring His children back is the same. After all, His love drove Him to give His Son to bring us back to Him. What amazing love!

Which brings me to 2 Corinthians 5:14: “For the love of Christ controls us…” Depending on the version you read, you will find that the love of Christ constrains, compels, and controls us. It is to be the driving force of our life, that thing that constrains us from doing certain things, but compels us to do others. Controlled by the love of Christ. I thought of this as I sat in the home of a pastor. He was speaking of the difficulties another church was facing, and said he wished he could help, but he had tried before and it seemed they didn’t want help. “I think,” he said, “it is better I just stay to myself and let them see what they will do.” My heart cringed inside. I could feel where he was coming from, I could understand the feeling of trying to help and having that help rejected… but God… Oh, how God loves us. He never gives up because we rejected His help. He woos us when we refuse to be wooed. He loves us when we are unlovely. And it is His love that is to control us. How then, Lord, am I to love those that don’t seem to want it? Teach me Your love. 

Friday as we traveled along the highway, we came across a man passed out on the road, clearly very drunk and beyond ability to move around. Knowing how vehicles fly along that highway, we realized he could be run over there on the road, we have heard of it happening. We stopped and as I watched Clifford help the man off the road, dirty, smelly, and stuff coming out of his mouth, I thought of people who are in a condition like that spiritually. It is hard to love them. Maybe they are clean and nice on the outside, but spiritually they are as repulsive to us as that man was on the outside. Whether through their judgmental pride, their rejection of us, or hurtful things they have said, they have become hard for us to love. How Lord? How can I love them? I want to be controlled by Your love, fill me. Help me.

So very thankful

I know this is not a post about Belize, but I just had to share the thankfulness that has been running through my heart since yesterday. I woke up this morning with the same thoughts and just had to share.

Somehow, I have come across several blogs by people adopting children with Down's Syndrome from other countries. Yesterday another one came into my path, and I sat and read through the old posts with a mixture of emotions and thoughts. Terrible pain and sorrow for children in the conditions I saw described, and thankfulness and joy for the family who was opening their home up to one of these children.

The blog is here, and I linked to a post with a little information about children in a similar state. This precious girl was born with Down's Syndrome and place in a government home in Bulgaria immediately after birth. At nine years of age she looked like this:

She weighed a little over 10 pounds and measured 29 inches long. Her upper thigh was a mere 5 inches around.





She reacted to being touched or held, because she had never known that. She had spent the nine years of her life in a crib.


There are many Down's Syndrome children like her. It breaks my heart, and at the same time makes me sooooo thankful that God put my sister Rachel in our family. 26 years ago she was born with Down's Syndrome. She weighed 8 pounds. She was 21 inches long. This 9 year old child was only slightly larger than that. Rachel thrived and grew. She loved being touched and held. She still loves to give hugs. She has always brought great joy to our lives. I have had many reasons to be thankful for her life, but today I add this bit of thankfulness, the fact that she had the opportunity to thrive in an atmosphere of love and kindness, and not spend her life as the child above. Thank you Lord!


Rachel and I this past Christmas:













 I am also thankful the sweet little girl pictured above finally has a loving family to grow and thrive in. Here she is not long after her adoption:

Thanks for bearing with this deviation from news about Belize, I just had to share how thankful I am for the opportunity to love on and be blessed by my sweet Rachel, as well as give thanks for those who are giving the opportunity of love to sweet children around the world.

Thoughts from a Wednesday service

Yesterday evening, after I called a halt to my work for the day, I sank into my hammock to relax a little, trying to ease the pain of a raging headache. It being Wednesday, I thought of church service in less than two hours, and considered how the rather loud Caribbean beat often accompanying church singing would effect my head. The thought was not a pleasant one, and tempted me to stay at home instead. However, I asked the Lord for strength and drove off, having chosen to go to a church a little further than the one across my backyard.

I arrived at the church only to discover the musician not present, and the entire sound system left covered for the night. Ah, God cares for little details like pounding headaches and booming rhythms! :) The pastor stepped up and called one of the church members to come and lead the service. I smiled as the designated service leader took his place behind the podium. I have known the man for most of my years here in Belize, and have always appreciated his exuberant attitude, he is not a halfway sort of person. Neither is he a man  in need of a PA system, having been blessed with a wonderful set of lungs, and the ability to project his voice quite well, so well in fact, that even without the sound system, his was the only voice I could hear singing last night besides my own. I have always wondered how his powerful voice would sound with a little bit of training. As it is, he has not been blessed with the ability to stay in the same key as the musicians, another reason to be thankful for the lack of musicians last night.

As I watched this man joyfully bounce to an unheard rhythm as he sang, I thought of the tales I have heard through the rumor mill of his struggle to remain in the ways of the Lord. I really cannot remember the details, and I have no need to, but I know that things have changed in his life as a result. I have heard that he has left his former profession (humble as it was) because of the constant temptation he found there. He now chops yards to make a living. I suspect he does so by swinging a machete rather than running a lawn mower. He mentioned how singing songs to the Lord in his mind helps a discouragingly long job fly past in no time. He talked of wanting to please Jesus. Simple and slightly uneducated, his words began to pierce through the foggy pain in my brain and speak to my heart. Here is a man with incredible zeal. He desperately wants to live for the Lord. He does not want to go back to his former way of life. And yet... he has been handed a tough course to follow, for sadly, he has been handed religion without relationship. He has zeal without knowledge. Crying out desperately for God's mercy, he hasn't been taught the path to victory in a moment by moment relationship with Jesus Christ. Am I making wrong assumptions? I sincerely hope so, yet hearing his words, knowing some background, and interacting with the same scenario on a regular basis, I think I am not mistaken.

And thus my heart is burdened today. How to help people like him see the truth and experience the delight of Christ in us, the hope of glory? How to get them to understand that salvation is not just a hope of making it to heaven some day, but is the reality of being saved from ourselves today and living a new life in Christ? That is the challenge on my mind this morning, and I ask you to join me in praying for God's truth to be revealed, not just to people like the man last night, but to the people around you and I each and every day. May our lives be useable as instruments of truth to those God places around us, and may He receive all the glory.

A Secret...

It was dusk when I arrived at her home, and I spotted smoke filtering up through her thatch roof. I ducked under the thatch to go in the doorway. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside, I saw her smiling radiantly at me from behind the low table behind which she sat. A bowl of masa sat beside her as her hands deftly worked some of it into a perfectly round tortilla which she placed on her comal over the fire. Minutes after I walked in, her two oldest daughters came in from high school and I watched the three of them sit by the fire and chat, catching up on the latest news, as fresh, hot tortillas kept coming off the comal. Soon her hands were joined by those of her daughters and I, and the tortilla production moved faster. I shared in the stories and laughter, mostly in Maya, with a little English mixed in every once in a while to clarify something for me. Mother and daughters’ fellowship was sweet, light, and beautiful to behold. One of her girls, Sandra, lives with me most of the time, so this was “catch-up” time. She told Sandra stories of the latest antics of the children, spiced with interjections from the next oldest girl. Sandra laughed merrily. Everyone’s eyes sparkled in the firelight. Then we swapped “Sandra” stories, me telling some of the funny things Sandra has done at my house, and her launching into stories from when Sandra was young.

Presently the other children appeared from outside, fresh faced and breathless from their play and helping with chores. One carried a tub of dishes they had just washed at the creek. Most had just bathed there as well. The weather was cool, in the low 60’s, and the children’s hands felt cold as they wrapped them around my neck. Soon her husband came in and we all quickly gathered around the low table upon which she had just made tortillas, it now served as our dining table, even though it was only about 3’ x3’. Hot tortillas were plunged into the warm broth in our dishes, spiked with flavorful but spicy peppers, and containing a piece of venison. Conversation mellowed as I chatted with her husband about the church (he is the pastor).  Steaming cups of tea finished off our meal.

I relaxed in the hammock briefly before we walked over to the church. As the hammock rocked back and forth, the youngest, a three year old boy, nestled beside me and told me stories with his precious lisp. This challenged my Maya skills and he giggled over the English word I used: “what.” He loved the word, and would promptly say it whenever anyone called his name, though I am not sure he really knew what it meant.

Church service was by candle light. She was there, of course, as the pastor’s wife, and I smiled at her on the front bench with her children gathered around her. She was still smiling, a radiant smile that made you feel that all was well. She and most of her children were barefoot, but hair was neatly combed and clothes freshly changed. After we joyfully sang a number of Maya songs without accompaniment, it was time for prayer. I listened to her prayer, and I was humbled. Hers was not full of prayers for herself and her needs. It was an outpouring of thanks for blessings God had given her, followed by sincere prayers for people she knew in need. Then she prayed for me, thanking God for me, praying for my safety, that I would have food to eat the next day, and strength for what God called me to do. She prayed for her daughter that lives with me. Finally she prayed that God would give her faith to love Him more. I couldn’t resist peeping over while she prayed, and as the candlelight danced around her, it lit her face up beautifully, dancing off her prominent cheekbones and accentuating her lovely features. In her sincere thankfulness, the joy in her spirit combined with the glow of the candle made it seem as if I had been given a glimpse into heaven and those gathered before the throne of God.

After service, we went to the house, and I was given a bed. It was the only bed in the house, the one she and her husband usually sleep on; that night they slept on the cement floor surrounded by their children. Temperatures dipped into the upper 50’s that night, inside and out, the floor was cold, and they were all dressed in short sleeves and bare feet.

Early the next morning, sometime after four, I heard her stir the fire. I got up shortly, along with the two high school girls. We all huddled around the fire and chattered a little before the two girls dashed to the creek to take a quick bath. Soon I was sipping something warm and thinking about the day before me. All too soon the school buses were heard in the distance. I said a quick goodbye and slipped out the door with the girls, leaving the rest of the family still asleep. The bus driver had agreed to take me along, so I was thankful for the transportation.

I arrived back at my house, and thought on the contrast. As simple as my home is compared to many in the States, I have so many more things than she does. I have running water, a small stove and refrigerator. She goes to get water in buckets and cooks over a fire. No refrigerator. I have lights; she has gas lamps made out of empty glass jars. I have a shower and a toilet; she has a creek and a tumble-down outhouse, two people live in my house (Sandra and I) and I have two beds; she has nine people in her house and one bed. The list goes on.

Later I find time to do some writing for a company I have been doing some work on the side for to provide a little extra income. Today the task is writing descriptions for a furniture company. Although writing usually comes easy for me, today I struggle to find words to describe a chair that costs $500.00 or $1,000.00 in our Belizean currency. I write: “Though sleek and modern, this chair flirts with tradition, just like you do. Clean, smooth lines are paired with the surprising touch of nail heads, usually associated with a more traditional look. But nothing about your home is usual, so the chair fits right in. So go ahead, flirt with tradition a little, whether in your entry, living room, or bedroom, the creamy linen of this chair will quietly add a fresh look.” I think of her. I think of her obvious happiness. I think of her home… furniture list includes: one homemade bed, three narrow, regular height tables which serve as cabinets, the low table for making tortillas, three 8-inch high stools each made of three rough pieces of 2 x 6, a hammock, and two cheap plastic lawn chairs. That’s it. Probably all that is in her house didn’t cost more than that 500.00 chair. And yet, I would imagine whoever buys that chair has never been as happy as she is. That person chooses exposed nail heads as a fashion statement; she has nothing else out of sheer necessity. And while the furniture I wrote about was way out of my league both in price and style, I wondered if her happiness with the simple things was within my reach. She has a secret… 

What to write??

“What to write?” I asked the Lord as I stared at my computer screen.

 I know there are those who want to hear what’s happening in these jungles oh so green.

 They’ve given to the work,

And at the blog they often look.

Yet, what to say?

 The question torments day by day.

They want to hear of Bible studies in Poite, how the truck is still carrying us there in spite of its improvised parts. They want to know how the new Saturday discipleship program is going, if people’s lives are being touched. They expect to hear great tales of exploits for the Lord. But what to tell them?

Who would be excited to know that the pickup has sat for the last four weeks at two different mechanic shops waiting to be fixed? Is it thrilling to know that the Bible studies have not been resumed because we don’t have transportation, that the Saturday discipleship hasn’t started because we don’t have a way to bring people here from the junction, or even to go and invite them in the first place? Lord, what do I say?

Who wants to know that the man who was supposed to know if land was available for the pig project was out of the country on the week I had been told to go and see him? What excitement does it bring to say that even now, he still says I must wait another month to hear?

Is anyone interested in the fact that I was able to purchase a lawnmower to keep my yard mowed? Do they care that the new lawnmower is such a relief after the old one that was held together with I don’t know how many wires? I am blessed to have a lawnmower that doesn’t always have the gas tank falling off or a wheel, but will others see that as a blessing?

Would it impress anyone to know that I am perfecting the art of knowing when the approaching clouds will just give a light sprinkle that won’t affect the laundry much, or when it will be a downpour and I better bring the clothes in?

Does it give pleasure to say that I nearly cried in frustration when I called the mechanic last week when the pickup was finally supposed to be ready, only to find out that they wouldn’t even start working on it until this week? Or that right in the middle of writing this update, I heard of more delays on the truck, and I did shed a few tears?

Should I tell them of all these little things and more?

Or should I tell them of all the “little” blessings You have brought in my life?

• That the refrigerator is still working, even though I thought it was dead.
• That I was able to coordinate transportation to get one of our dear pastors to the hospital late in the night, even though I didn’t have transportation myself.
• That the family of the girl who lives with me offered to provide local foods from their farm anytime I want – a relief to the budget and a blessing to the palate!
• That a man from another mission working here in Belize has taken my pickup under his arm, bringing in parts from the States, towing the truck, dealing with the mechanics… what a blessing he is to us!
• That I was able to get a water purifier, so that I don’t have to buy water every week – which would be a challenge right now without a vehicle. God’s timing is perfect!
• That I can walk across my yard, step over the fence, go around the parsonage, and arrive at a church – a blessing since I don’t have wheels to take me further.
• That even though this close by church speaks K’ekchi and I only understand Maya, I can still worship with other believers.
• That others who have vehicles think of me and take me to service in other villages on occasion.
• That my almost three year old godson came and spent four days with me and gave me lots of snuggles.
• That I have been able to visit my dear friends several times in Belmopan, attend church with them, and have some wonderful fellowship.
• That some other dear friends of mine saved the very last of their young corn (before it got too mature) to fix a special meal for me when I returned from the States.

Should I continue with this list of blessings? Or should I tell of the things you have been working in my heart and the opportunities You have given me to share with others?

• In spite of all the delays in what I think should be happening, I can trust Your plan. I can let You instruct me and change me and equip me.
• For the time You gave me to speak in Pueblo Viejo when the pastor was away. How the story of Zaccheus spoke to my heart. Just because Jesus was present, Zaccheus’ life was transformed. Not because of a message, not because Jesus rebuked him, but simply the presence of Jesus Christ brought conviction to his heart and he took action. If the presence of God is not changing my life, perhaps I’ve left Your presence. Lord, may Your life transform mine!
• That You give me times to be Christ to those around me – the person next to me on the bus whose wild children keep banging into me and running up and down screaming, to the mechanic who suggested I put some old fuel injectors in my pickup, to the people who gave me a ride the other day, saving my steps.
• For the two opportunities I had to speak truth into the same person’s life; long, deep conversations that challenged that person to greater depths in his walk with God.

The list goes on… truly Lord You have blessed with opportunities. They may not be great and amazing to man’s eyes, but they are Your work nonetheless.

Thank You, Lord, for those who speak to my soul, like the man who is helping with the pickup. When he told of the news of more repairs, he told me, “Do not be discouraged.  God is on your side.  This too shall pass.” I needed to hear that. Thank You, Lord, for Your truth.

And to those who have made it this far in my post… I think you get a little picture of what has been happening here in Belize. No, it hasn’t been as I planned, but God continues to hold my hand and guide my steps. I am so thankful to be His child! He alone is faithful and true! He is the One that gives us breath, Who gives a reason to sing and rejoice, Who gives a smile for those around us, and offers to shine His abundant life through our fleshly bodies, if we only let Him. To Him alone be praise!

A different season

Ecclesiastes 3:1 states, "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven." How quickly life passes through its seasons! Some changes are hailed with great joy, while other seasons bring tears as they depart. What great peace and joy is there for those who trust the Master of the Universe to change the seasons as He sees fit - He does it for the great glory of His kingdom and the joy of His dear ones. He can be absolutely trusted!

Season changes have been the order of the day for T.E.A.M. lately! One we are very grateful for - a break in the intense dry season we endured for what seemed like forever! March - May are usually hot here, but oh my, we had quite the dry season this year! However, God has graciously sent rain to the land and we are very grateful.

The other change is almost as predictable as the dry season and rainy season: my annual summer trip to the States. I think by now I would have realized the fact that I experience the hottest season in Belize only to follow it up with the hottest time in Oklahoma! Well, I HAVE realized it, but you would think I would make a change in my schedule to hit some better seasons! Ah well, what can I say?

This season change brought both tears and happiness. I have been so blessed to have my very dear friends living in the house adjacent to me since January, and it was sad to break up our little "family." There were seven of us in all, Sandra and I in my house, William, Irma, their two precious boys, and Clifford in the other. What a blessing this time was! We gardened, mowed lawns, celebrated birthdays, traveled, had devotions, and generally kept each other company. I was blessed by their presence, and the way they helped me in so many ways. It was a precious time that I am sorry to have come to a close. However, I am always grateful for an opportunity to see my family here in the States. Thus the reason for the mix of emotions at the change of seasons.

I miss these bright eyes!

I left Belize on the 17th, after spending the 16th in Spanish Lookout doing some pricing for the pig project. We are making great progress on plans - streamlining efficient models for the pastors' pig raising facilities, looking at property, and finalizing equipment lists for the processing plant. Of course the most important preparation for the project is prayer. We know it is far bigger than we can handle, and we do not have funds to move forward, but we know that our Father is not limited by our inabilities or lack of funds, and if He wants to be glorified through this project, He can certainly provide the funds for it! We pray that we keep in step with His leading, so that His will might be done!

One of the properties we are looking at.

The same evening I left, Clifford, Magdalena, and at least six others (I forgot to get the exact count) headed out to Poite for Bible study again. We are thankful that the Lord had His hand on the truck and allowed them to arrive safely. I heard good reports of their time. This was the last study for a while until I get back. The truck is still not running well, and we felt it best to hold off until I can bring the part from the States. Also, it takes some pressure off the gas budget for the time being. While continuity in the studies would have been a good thing, we trust the Lord's leading and that He will continue the work He is doing. After all, it is His work and not our own!

I would appreciate your prayers for me while in the States. I am trying to make progress on a website, continue with research on the pig project, as well as prepare for some intensive discipleship we are planning for the beginning of September. I also hope to have some speaking opportunities as the Lord gives opportunity.

I would also appreciate your prayers for Magdalena and Clifford while I am away. Magdalena continues to work with her husband in their small vegetable shop, and Clifford is seeking a job to make some extra money in the interim. Pray for God's hand of blessing on both of them!