8 years later.

Tomorrow marks 8 years since we welcomed our first son into the world.  I remember lying in my dark hospital room a couple days after he was born, recovering from the emergency C-section I had just had.  It was night and I was wide-awake, wondering what the future held for this tiny, 2 pound boy who came 2 and half months early for some inexplicable reason.  The doctor who delivered Zion came into my room after checking on him in the NICU- the only baby in a small, upstairs room of the hospital that really had no rules about who gets to come in and touch preemies.  She sat down and sighed.  "I'm worried about Zion," she tells me.  Take a number, I thought.  "You need to prepare yourself, Lisa."  Prepare myself for what?  For the possibility that my son might die?  How does one prepare for that, exactly?  "Doctora," I replied.  "I don't know what's going to happen with my son.  I am praying that the Lord will heal him.  But, even if He chooses to take my son to heaven, I know and believe that He is good and that He loves me."  Little did I know at that moment that a couple weeks later, I would have to walk out that belief.  That's where it gets real.  And sometimes ugly.

Every once in a while, I force myself to dredge up a painful memory from when our little boy was on this earth.  I want to make sure I'm still processing, still asking myself to do the hard work of healing (with the help of the Holy Spirit, of course) and checking my own heart to see where it is in this journey of a mother who has lost a child.  It can be easy to slide into the waters of sadness when I do this.  But, my gracious Lord has done enough healing in my heart that I can move quickly back out and into thankfulness for all that He's done in my life as I walk this road of faith.  I can honestly say that I trust Him more now than I did before I had Zion.  Even as I type that, I know that if I were to be confronted with losing another child, I would be gripped with fear.  I would ask "why".  But, I also have the hope that learning to trust that God is good in the face of Him taking something precious from me, would be where I would eventually land.  And, I'm so thankful for that.

One Fine Day.

Do you remember that movie, One Fine Day, from the '90s with Michelle Pfeiffer and George Clooney where they were both trying to get their kids to a school field trip that they were late for?  At one point in the movie, Michelle's character spills something on her shirt and she has a big meeting at work later that day so she throws on her elementary son's dino tee and totally rocks it.  I promise I went out later that week to Target looking for cute T-shirts in the boy's section of the store.  Pretty sure I bought one.  Anyway, this blog is not about that.

Yesterday was Natty's 10th birthday, and it was one fine day!  Actually, a fine weekend.  We decided to get out the big guns and book an overnight at the fanciest hotel in La Paz.  It's beautiful and fancy and has an indoor pool and fabulous breakfast buffet.  We kept it a surprise from her and had a blast trying to trick her into believing we were doing all sorts of things that she wasn't very excited about. 

The morning started with our annual Community Festival at Highlands, which is essentially a whole bunch of soccer tournaments and food sales to raise money for the school.  Natty was initially pretty miffed (do people still use that word?) that it fell on her birthday, as she likes to have every moment of her birthday dedicated just to her and satisfying her every whim.  I mean, who doesn't?  However, she eventually got excited about it and enjoyed hanging out with her school friends and gallivanting all over the school without her parents like the big girl she is.  At one point, right before she started playing soccer with her class, the teacher on the loud speaker announced that it was her birthday and had the whole crowd sing Happy Birthday (my idea)!  She stood perfectly still the whole time, thinking that if she didn't move, no one would be able to see her in her complete embarrassment.  You're welcome, daughter. 

Getting ready to rock the soccer game with her classmates.

After winning her game, we came home, ate the lunch of her request (baked potato and broccoli salad) and took off on our surprise adventure.  When we rolled up to the hotel, she still wasn't sure what was going on.  But, when we walked through the sliding doors into the swanky, massive lobby and caught a glimpse of the shimmering pool surrounded by sky-high glass windows and lush gardens- she got excited. 

Even more so when she saw her huge room with the huge bed and the free toiletries!  It's the small things, right?  We swam, we ate in bed, we watched a movie, we told Natty what we loved about her.  It was awesome. 

Dinner in bed- that never happens!

After a sound sleep, we had a leisurely buffet breakfast where Scotty and I paced ourselves and tried to out eat each other while the kids ran in and out of the dining room while nibbling on their food, but mostly enjoying the kids playground outside.  That was followed by a family devo time, some more swimming, and lunch at a local restaurant where all the kids were hungry/tired/crabby and the food took FOR. EVER.  But, we even managed to laugh a little there when we started taking slow-mo videos on my phone.  

I was able to work us a late check-out time, so after walking back to the hotel, the boys crashed on the king size bed (Mo had come down with a low-grade fever by this point) and I hit the pool and hot tub one more time with the girls.  It was a dream birthday weekend for Natty!

And now, I've officially been a mom for a decade.  My sweet, sensitive, smart, sympathetic, silly Natty is such a blessing to our family. 

That alliteration was intentional, but all true, by the way.  She brings life and drama and laughter and depth to this house and I can't imagine life without her.  I know that she will have some challenging paths to wander but she is a seeker and I trust that the Lord will hold her hand the whole way- and mine as I learn to let her learn.  We love you, Natalie Inez!!

Fifteen.

Spending time with Reyna, a young girl whose parents were in jail.  I volunteered at this after school program for kids of incarcerated adults my first 2 years in Bolivia.

I failed to write a blog back in June when I completed 15 years in Bolivia.  15 years?!  It's weird even to type that.  That's the longest amount of time that I've lived in any one city.  For those of you who don't know about my start in Bolivia, I shall recount what I can remember (15 years and the details start getting blurry).

During my senior year of high school, I felt strongly that the Lord was calling me into long-term, overseas ministry.  This, for those who knew me as a young person can attest to, is only something God could make happen.  I have always been a timid, home-body, play-it-safe kind of person.  But, the Lord called and when He does, there is nothing to do but follow.  After graduating from college (with a degree in speech therapy), I basically googled (was that a thing in 2002?) overseas Christian organizations and the first one to pop up was Food for the Hungry.  I began communicating with someone from their US office and before I knew it, was on a plane to Phoenix to do a several week orientation.  Well, by the end of that, I was sold.  I remember calling my parents from Arizona telling them that I had decided to move to Bolivia for 3 years, without coming home.  Mom probably remembers better than me, but when I shared that, there was a brief silence on the phone, followed by something to the effect of, "Uh......what??"  Fast forward after a grueling but  faith-fueling year of support raising (FH staff were sustained completely through support raising) and I was alone on a plane flying to Cochabamba, Bolivia.  Again, typing that sentence still makes me shake my head and snicker.

I have no memory who met me at the airport on the day of my arrival, but I do remember soon after meeting my 3 FH roommates- 2 American girls and one Japanese girl (she was also new).  We had a couple weeks of orientation followed by a nation-wide Food for the Hungry (including over 100 national staff) retreat.  For that event, we were housed at a convent and those nuns must not have washed everything as well as my Western tummy mandated because I ended up with some severe food poisoning/parasite/something.  I was out for a few days- often times crawling on my hands and knees to the bathroom.  I can't remember how distressing all of that was to me as a young woman far from home for the first time.  I imagine I struggled with it.  My primary role in Cochabamba was as the co-leader of an International youth group- a group of kids who all attended Carachipampa Christian School, which is somewhat similar to Highlands.  The next few weeks had me meeting with the pastor of the local international church and my new colleague, Micah.  We became instant friends- no one who's ever met Micah fails to become his friend.  And life went on from there.  I was truly in awe of this rugged, mountainous, dry city with new and different smells, dress, people, language, customs.  EVERYTHING was different.  I was young and naive and sometimes ignored some of the differences, preferring to still be my American self.  However, I began to appreciate some of the things I was learning and there began my journey of a life-time.

I became a truly independent adult here, met my husband here, became a mother here and continue to learn the lesson of being content in all circumstances (still not there).  I appreciate the opportunity to love people who are different from me with fundamentally different values and perspectives.  I love raising my kids in a culture different from mine and so rich with history and beauty.  I love the adventure the Lord has called us to and the way it has caused me to depend on Him far deeper than I could imagine otherwise.  The challenges are real, though, and to not mention that they exist would be to ignore a part of my life that requires grief and patience and grace.  But to walk confidently on this path is one I do knowing that the Lord has upheld us with His loving hand every step of the way and I know He will continue to do so as long as He has a purpose for us here.

On becoming a teacher...

So, I guess I started teaching Sunday school way back when I was pregnant with Natalie, but it was very sporadic after that because I kept having babies and nursing babies and it just wasn't an option.  A couple years ago, I picked it up again and just this past year, I was "promoted" to the 7-9 year old class, which happens to be the one Natty is in now.  I can't say that I've ever felt very adequate at teaching Sunday school- my experience is very limited, I'm doing it in another language, and because our services are pretty long, there is a lot of time to fill.  I entered this new position with a bit of uncertainty but when I reviewed the new material we were using, I got excited.  Over the course of 3 years, we'll be walking through the entire Bible with these kids, in depth.  It's taken a few months to get a handle on what works and doesn't work with my class- mainly boys- but I'm finally feeling more comfortable now.  The last three weeks we've been going through the last words of Moses to the people of Israel before he dies.  This past Sunday, the focus was Deuteronomy 28.  Have you read Deut. 28 recently?  It's a LONG chapter that starts off listing the blessings the Lord will pour out on His people if they obey Him.  Then follows about 50 verses about the horrific curses the Lord will dump on His children if they choose to turn away from Him.  Hmmmm...how do I approach this one??  I decided to make a little game where I'd write both the blessings and curses on little pieces of paper, put them in a bowl and let two teams pull them out one by one.  Whichever team received the most blessings, won.  I thought even if it wasn't that fun, at least we could go through some of the blessings and curses in a more interesting way then just reading the chapter (which would have had these kids asleep or extremely distracted about 4 verses in).  What I didn't foresee was how passionately they would play this game- at first, cheering for themselves when they got a blessing and groaning when the curse came.  Then, it got more heated as they chanted "curse, curse, curse!" for the other team and celebrated when, in fact, their sons and daughters were taken off as slaves by a foreign people. I started wondering if this was a good idea after all...  The best part came when it was all over and I asked the kids if God still pours out these curses on us when we sin against Him.  "Yeah!" they said.  "Kinda, I mean, maybe not ones quite like that."  I wasn't too surprised by their response, but a bit saddened that this is what they still expected of the Lord.  My girl was nodding her head along with the rest until she remembered the conversation she had heard Scotty and I having a few days earlier about this topic.  She raised her hand and explained that although we deserve those curses (and worse!), Jesus took all that punishment on Himself on our behalf on the cross!  Although I know she has a hard time understanding this still, and even receiving that kind of grace in her own life, I was proud of her for sharing the good news.  I got the kids' attention again and made sure they heard me VERY CLEARLY.  We are no longer under a curse.  Did you hear that guys?  Because of our sin and rebellion against the Lord, we deserve all sorts of punishment and death, but Jesus took that condemnation away from us.  I pleaded with them to pay attention, to remember, what I just said.  Some had blank stares, some weren't even looking at me and some seemed to be considering what I was saying.  Only the Lord can drive that truth deep into the heart of those kids and make it grow.  By His grace, He will continue to use me, a fragile and imperfect vessel, to continue sharing these life-giving truths.  And meanwhile, I'll try to come up with different games where the kids aren't wishing curses on their classmates. 

There's no place like home.

Our plane touched down to the breathtaking (literally, at 14,000 ft.), freezing runway in El Alto, Bolivia at 2:50 am.  Moses had woken up about 30 mins before and was exercising his lungs to the consternation of a plane full of sleepy passengers.  We tumbled out of the plane and lined up at customs.  As usual, Mo was grouchy, Jubilee was ashen and Natty was fine.  After picking up our 10 suitcases, we rolled out into the night where our friend Leo was waiting with our truck to drive us home.  The air was crisp and I was more than ready to start the descent to our house and our beds.  We were soon winding through the dark, pot-holed streets.  Out of one open doorway I spied the vulgar red fluorescent light of a brothel and took a sec to pray for our missionary friends whose lives are spent bringing hope to the women who are trapped there.  45 minutes later, we arrived to the welcome sight of our tall, brick house, the top of Natty's eucalyptus tree peeking over the wall.  The dogs welcomed us with big, wagging tails, while the kids and I stumbled upstairs and collapsed into bed.  The next two days we unpacked bags, organized belongings and went shopping for food- 2 supermarkets, one produce market, one organic chicken store and the local market got us started for meals.  One-stop shopping definitely is not a thing here.  I kept marveling at the strangeness of everything, but how familiar and homey it has become to us.  All of the stuff that makes this developing world unique and sometimes annoying, has also become our normal.  The U.S. is mostly comfortable and definitely plush but has become somewhat unknown and intimidating.  I am so thankful that we have a house here- a place that has our touches, our memories, our design inside and out.  There is always a bitter-sweetness about leaving behind loved ones and friends in the states, but there's no place like home.

America the beautiful

Well, look at how quickly 6 months passed since last I wrote!  And, we are back in the U.S. again, getting rather close to packing a million suitcases full of stuff that we wonder if we should have bought.  This time we won't be back in the states for 2 years, so we're trying to figure out what's a must for returning.  The same process happens every time we are back: (Me in a store) "I need these shoes/curtains/plates/picture frames!  Let me shop around and make sure I'm getting the best deal...  Argh!  I'm so tired of going everywhere trying to find the best deal- I'll just buy these right in front of me.  Wait, do I really need these picture frames??  They might be cheaper and better made and cuter and easier to find, but I bet if I tried really hard I could get them in La Paz.  What do I do????"  Seriously, why is it like this every. single. time.  The struggle is real.

This feels like the craziest trip we've had yet.  Now that we are on a school schedule, our longest time back is about 7 weeks- which is barely enough to get a couple weeks in with parents and trips to see supporters and churches.  That doesn't include much time for fund-raising or relaxing...two very important goals we always have coming into our stateside travel.  Although our kids are a bit more independent than last time, they are also more easily upset by making friends and spending time with family and then having to say good-bye to them. 

And, there are more doctors visits now that we've reached an age where all the kids need to see the dentist and eye doctor, not to mention the random doctor's visits Scotty and I need.  Thankfully, the kids are champs on roadtrips and have 2 10-hour trips and 2 5-hour trips under their belts.  The last 9 hour trip will be Monday!  We've been through 8 states so far!

Summer highlights for Miser kids:

ice water- hands down, this has been the most exciting thing.  Ice in everyone's dispensers!  Free ice waters in restaurants! ("You mean, they just give you as much as you want??)  Crunch crunch all day long.

Swimming!  Pools, beaches, lakes, even one Great Lake

Bikes- Natty learned to ride a bike in about 2 hours. 

New friends- oh, so many sweet kids in all our journeys.

Treats!  We've relaxed our sweets rules a bit for this trip. 

Grandparents- don't we wish we had more time together?

Sandwiches- the cheese variety! the soft, sliced bread! PICKLES!

Summer highlights for Miser adults:

Time to work out

Warm weather

Family

Seeing old friends

Reconnecting with so many precious, faithful supporters- we feel so blessed and cared for.

Starbucks

Shopping!  (A blessing and a curse.  See above.)

So, less than 2 weeks to go before we board a plane Bolivia-bound.  We will be so happy to be back in our home, not living out of suitcases.  But, we are incredibly grateful for these amazing experiences in the homeland.

Travelling lightly.

The explosion of luggage when we got home.

We recently took a holiday trip to the U.S. and got some stuff.  What can I say?  It'd been a year and a half since our last trip and we needed/wanted a few new things.  And, it was Christmas.  We received presents and gave presents to each other.  So, 5 people's worth of stuff adds up.  Needless to say, we had 7 bulging suitcases, carry-ons for everyone and 3 little people in tow.  I had to make sure that I rented a car to drive to the airport that would be big enough to hold us and our junk.  We had to figure out how to wheel that luggage, push that stroller, and keep those kids in check from one end of Miami International to the other.  It was not easy.  Especially since we haven't invested in those awesome new-fangled suitcases that have wheels that will turn any which way you so desire.  Trust me- that is on my list of things to buy next time we're in the U.S.  All this to say, I see that there are definite benefits to travelling light!

Thomas a Kempis said, "They travel lightly whom God's grace carries."  I read that and immediately imagined my family hauling mountains of luggage through MIA.  Me with several (heavy) carry on bags over my shoulders and pushing a cheap stroller whose wheels don't cooperate.  Natty and Scotty trying to drive two over-loaded baggage carts, accidentally bumping into people who get in the way.  And Jubilee, receiving the wrath and frustration of the rest of us for lagging behind.  God has been speaking to me about grace in this last year.  His gentle reminders when I lack it- for myself and others.  His kind and loving promises that He wants to extend more toward me if I would just accept it.  I'm afraid my life often looks like that scene from the airport.  I've packed a bunch of suitcases full of merit- feeling useful to people around me, shining in the compliment given to me about one thing or another, seeing success and growing maturity in my kids that makes me feel like a good parent.  These are all nice things, of course, and none evil in and of itself.  However, I have often collected all these things in hopes that they will build me up and sustain me.  But, when I see a flaw in my kids or realize I blew it in a relationship, it all crumbles.  And I begin to question myself and why I can't pull it together and how I could fail so many times!  Where is the grace??  How I long to live as a light traveler...being carried by God's grace.  Not dragging behind me all my merits and good deeds.  To recognize on a daily basis what scripture tells us that we are no longer condemned and free from the law of sin and death. And how amazing it would be to have so digested and been nourished by this truth that I would naturally extend this grace to my family and those around me.  Here's to the journey...