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.