Day 19: Disappointment

Apparently I haven't had any interesting thoughts for a couple of days...

So, I started a new book last night called It's Not Supposed to Be This Way by Lysa Terkeurst.  I'm only on Chapter 2, but I found so many good nuggets in the first chapter that I've decided to blog up a fake interview with Lysa so I can share them with you.  The subheading on the book's cover explains the main idea: finding unexpected strength when disappointments leave you shattered.

Lisa: Thanks so much for being with us today, Lysa.  I've already been so encouraged by the first chapter of your new book.

Lysa: My pleasure! And, can I just say I've been loving your blog and the way you bring us into the big and small things of your world.

Lisa: Oh, you're so sweet!  Let's just jump in, shall we?  Something I really resonated with in the introduction of your book is how you explained that we, as humans, are very attached to outcomes.  Can you explain that idea a little for our readers?

Lysa:  Well, I found along the way that I was trying so hard to control what my life looked like and the people who were part of my life.  Without realizing it, you can imagine this perfectly crafted idea of what your life should look like and how it should turn out at the end.  Maybe that could be getting a good education, finding a great, godly spouse, having 2.8 beautiful children who never get sick or misbehave and happily living to the end of your days in a beautiful home surrounded by love and free of major setbacks.  When things are going well, you praise God for His goodness, but when things begin to unravel and life takes a sharp turn or two along the way toward heartbreak or illness, you question God's goodness and purposes.  We're pretty set on things turning out like we want.

Lisa:  That totally makes sense- I do this all the time!  And, as you go on to explain, this can lead to debilitating disappointment.  I thought your definition of disappointment was so simple, but spot-on.  Can you share that?

Lysa:  Well, I've defined disappointment as a feeling that things should be better than they are. And the reality is that we can trace this feeling back to the Garden of Eden.  Before sin, we had a perfect, beautiful place to live that met all our physical needs.  We had an unblemished relationship with our Creator, who met all our emotional and spiritual needs.  And, for a short time, man and woman even walked in perfect harmony together.  When sin shattered that picture, disappointment was created.  Now nothing would ever be as good as that again.  So, we still live between that Garden and the future, renewed Garden- that space of time when we will inevitably look at everything and everyone around us and wish it could be better.  

Lisa:  Wow, that sounds depressing!  What do we do with this reality??

Lysa:  Ha!  I know, right?  Well, there's some good stuff here.  The truth is that my feelings and my faith will almost certainly come into conflict with each other.  The wrestling with disappointment in yourself, in the people you love and in humanity is real, but there's a grace disguised there.  It's so easy to look to these loves to satisfy us when there's really only One who can completely satisfy and never fail us.  When these lesser love leave us wishing for more, we find that it is then we see our need for our Savior and perfect Father.  Only then are we really free to recognize Him for all that He is for us in Christ.  

Lisa:  Man, this is good stuff.  How 'bout we pause here and give our readers a chance to think about what we've shared.  I know I could use a few minutes to sit with these ideas.  Maybe we can talk some more tomorrow?

Lysa:  You just let me know, Lisa.  Until then, thanks for reading!!

(Thanks for taking time to read a made-up conversation. I hope I've expressed some of the real Lysa's perspectives and thoughts and that she'll never read my blog and be terribly annoyed.)

Day 18: The one where Moses throws up.

My (not-so) perfect children.

Yesterday was Natty's 11th birthday!  She requested to stay home from church and be together all day as a family, so that's what we did.  After a delicious breakfast of her choice (crepes with berry compote and whipped cream), we went outside and jumped on the trampoline, played musical chairs, pin the tail on the donkey and other old-school party games.  The party games were totally an afterthought, but it was a blast!  We have a lot of taller homes that overlook our yard and I wondered if our neighbors were getting a kick out of us dancing around the circle of chairs and fighting over them during musical chairs!  Natty had chosen trout for lunch, which is not something we ever eat at home.  Moses and Jubi were not thrilled with the choice and by the time we had all sat down, Moses in particular had convinced himself this was going to be the worst lunch ever.  Which he made sure actually happened by commenting every 30 seconds about how disgusting and yucky the fish was- except for he hadn't tasted it yet.  Natty, meanwhile, sat at the other end of the table growing more and more unhappy as her siblings' bad attitude affected everyone's moods.  After much annoyance, Moses finally ate one bite of fish, but couldn't seem to get it down.  Before we knew it he was gagging and finally threw up part of his meal.  Well, that was the final straw.  Natty ran off crying (she hates seeing people throw up- shocker, I know) and I got mad at Moses for not thinking about how his actions were affecting his sister (even though I knew that kind of empathy is quite underdeveloped in a 4 year old).  Lunch ended messily and then we all had a few minutes to ourselves to regroup.  The afternoon was consumed by watching The Sound of Music (Natty's choice), which all my kids managed to sit through! 

Ironically, this picture was in the Curious George book we read after lunch.  Moses pointed out the fish falling from George's mouth and said, "That's what we had.  It was gross."  Duh, we know.

Why do I tell this story?  Well, from a neighbor's window, they might have seen a happy-go-lucky family who spends time together and is all smiles.  From the pictures I post on social media, you might think we get along famously and never lose our tempers with each other.  I know I've thought this about countless others who only share a neatly curated slice into their lives.  We all know it to be true, but I thought I'd put it out there in print.  My family is blessed- we love each other, we play together, we laugh, we dance.  But, my kids argue a lot.  I lose my temper when they annoy me.  Even Scotty and I disagree and frustrate each other (I know you can hardly imagine it to be true!).  So, when you're having one of those days when you've failed as a person, remember you aren't alone, there will be better days, and we have a wonderfully patient and merciful God.

Day 17: Family sub-culture.

This picture has nothing to do with this post, but I took it on Friday when I went to buy fresh trout for Natty's bday and thought it was too fun not to post!

I had the worship music up loud this morning as I washed dishes.  Partly because I wanted to hear over the running of the water and partly because I needed a loud voice to remind me of the faithfulness of God.  Natty came in and said, "Who turned the music up so loud?"  I responded that it was already up that loud when I put it on, so I just left it as it was.  Her unexpected and very perceptive response was, "Oh, you must be in a good mood because usually you come in and say 'Turn this music down- it's too stimulating!!!'".  She imitated me with a funny voice and her arms swinging around, which I'm pretty sure I don't do.  But, I had a good laugh about it and was interested that she had picked up on something we've learned with Moses about how certain situations or noises can be overly stimulating to him and cause melt-downs.  I'm pretty sure I've explained that when I'm stressed or upset, noise seems to be the thing that will push me over the edge the fastest.

We all create little sub-cultures in our homes with our habits, what we spend our time doing and what we talk about the most.  I love hearing my kids pick up phrases that we use a lot- it helps me understand that they are, in fact, listening to me and absorbing some of the messages that are important.  On a good day, I might hear Jubilee ask Moses for a compromise while they play- a technique we learned he would especially benefit from as a way to "share" control and avoid a lot of power struggles.  Something kids who have had to learn that the world is not a safe place can often employ.  I've tried hard to teach the kids that instead of retaliating or coming to tell me about every single thing their sibling does to annoy them that instead they can use the script, "When you do _____, it makes me feel _____."  Natty has been putting that one into practice more and more these days.  And Moses never fails to surprise me with his knowledge of the Bible and his ongoing desire to go to heaven so he can be with Jesus.

I've always wanted to be an intentional mom with how I raise my kids and what I speak into their lives.  I often feel like it's pretty hit or miss or that maybe they're picking up more on my own sins and bad habits than the good things.  So, it's rewarding when you recognize that the message is finally getting through and I pray that the faith Scotty and I live out before them will speak loudest of all.

Day 16: Yes, I could. (A continuation from Day 15)

Yesterday I had a question- could I leave Bolivia?  Today, I got an answer! If there was a problem, yo! I'll solve it.  Ok, so the answer didn't come from Vanilla Ice...it came from the Lord!  He's so awesome like that.

I've been reading through the gospels slowly in the last few months.  Today, I was on Luke 12.  Let me just show you three things that encouraged my heart regarding my questions, doubts, fears and general unsettledness.  In verse 22 Jesus is telling his disciples that they are worth more than the ravens and reminds them how well taken care of these birds are, despite them having far less value than God's children. "And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest?" (v. 25-26)  Great questions, Jesus!  I suppose I shouldn't be because you've just told me you're going to take care of my families needs in every way! 

Then He goes on to tell us that so greatly do we need not worry, that we should be willing to sell everything and give to those who have need.  "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." (v. 34)  Is my treasure in my comfort, in my home, in my routine, in my community, in my long years in Bolivia?  None of those things are bad or wrong, but, if I value that above letting it all go for the sake of Christ, my heart is in the wrong place.  In fact, that would be an idol in my life.  Whoa, good word. 

Earlier in the text, Jesus tells a parable of a rich man who has stored up all his possessions and is now kicking back to enjoy the fruits of his labor.  But then the Lord comes and calls him a fool for not being prepared and for laying up treasure on this earth.  I sure don't want to be called a fool by the living God!  But, have I not done this for myself?  Have I not laid up all these sweet Bolivian treasures and am in a sort of kick-back mode?  To be fair, I don't live like this all the time, and I believe that our family has been "rich toward God" (v. 21)....but, it is a temptation to fall back on all that.

So, I stopped about 3/4 of the way through Chapter 12 because there was already so much there that God used to focus my eyes again on the things that matter and it was enough.  He is enough.  Could I do it all over again?  Yes, by the grace of God, I could.

Day 15: Could I start over again?

The gift of community,- past, present and future.

Will you bear with me while I let my thoughts seep randomly onto the page for a moment?  In the last 10 months, I've had to consider more than once the possibility that we might have to leave Bolivia and it's especially present in my mind at the moment.  Like with a lot of things, my desire to keep mental tranquility outweighs my desire to really contemplate something for very long, so blogging can be a helpful way to force myself to dwell a little longer on an unpleasant topic. 

Bolivia is my home.  We've lived here as singles and as a married couple for 16 years.  We started our family here.  We buried a child here.  We've experienced all the ups and downs any normal young family goes through, surrounded by a beautiful missionary and church community that can remember our hard days and the good days.  We've been part of starting a church and seeing it grow and thrive.  We've built a house.  We've mastered how to pay bills and where to buy meat and how to do things in a bank and how to drive and all the stuff that new people struggle with that we hardly think about anymore.  This makes me feel good.  It makes me feel safe.  It takes away a certain amount of unwanted stress.  I feel kinda bad that this is one of the reasons I don't want to leave here- it's comfortable.  As a missionary and an American living outside of my own culture, comfort has become an evil word.  Americans are too comfortable and don't understand the plight of the poor.  American Christians are even more wayward by being comfortable and not sacrificing for the needs of millions who live without the things we take for granted.  At least, this is my perception of things and has some truth to it.  So, I feel a certain amount of guilt for being an American and a missionary who is- gasp!- comfortable!  Scotty told me that we've put in a lot of years to earn a certain level of comfort.  Now, I'm not talking material comforts- although that plays into this scenario, too.  I'm talking the comfort that those of you who have ever lived overseas understand that involves knowing a place so radically different so well that it no longer feels so foreign.  That feeling makes me happy.  Do I put too much stock in that feeling? 

There is some pride in all of this, if I'm honest with myself.  I like knowing things.  I like speaking Spanish fluently.  I like having the answer to newer foreigners questions.  I like feeling like the things that might shock or surprise them aren't surprising to me.  But, again, it's one of those things that makes the idea of long-term life here viable.  I still have plenty of questions I ask my Bolivian friends.  Do you think it's OK that the gymnastics program is run this way?  What doctor do you take your kids to?  Should I pay that extra fee or not? 

So, I guess in all this, I'm wondering if I could do it again.  Live the crucible of getting to know a new set of people in a new culture with new norms.  I could say that my level of comfort probably didn't kick in until a good 10 years were under my belt.  Can I do another decade of hard-core learning?  Would it take that long this time?  I'm not as young, not as naive, not as prideful (I hope) as I was.  Will God ask us to uproot, because the truth is, we are so very planted here.  Time will tell.

Day 14: Top 14 things I love about La Paz.

And now for a more superficial post.  For those of you who are interested in knowing little things about living in La Paz, I have compiled a list, in no particular order, of some things I love about living here:

1. Tiendas.  Every block or so in a residential area (and maybe more in the city), there are little neighborhood stores.  You can't go inside, usually, but you can stand at the gate and ask for anything your heart desires.  They might have it.  Fresh bread, toothpaste, spices, milk, wine, fire crackers, tomatoes, soda, candy, dish soap, etc...  These places are tiny but they are packed full of goodness when you don't have time to drive to a grocery store.  And, every señora and her kids will know the exact price of all 1000 items available.

2.  Station attendants pump your gas for you.  For free.  You don't even have the option of doing it yourself.

3. If I buy a gift at a store, they'll gift wrap it for free!

4. Mountains.  They are everywhere!  Some are red; some are green; most you can climb (if you're brave).  Some even have snow a good part of the year!

5.  Cheap dry cleaning.  Now, I don't wear a lot of fancy pants clothes, but recently my cat peed on my good, wool jacket and Scotty bought me a shirt from India that needed washing.  I took them to the dry cleaner and paid less than $3 for both.

6.  We can drive from 11,000ft. where we live to the jungle in about 2 hours.  It's still mountainous jungle, but that means there is the benefit of it not being so crazy hot, along with obligatory jungle stuff like bugs, monkeys, fruit trees and coffee plantations!

The jungle!

7.  You can show a carpenter a picture of a piece of furniture and they'll make it!  Like our bed we saw in a Pottery Barn magazine.  And our girls' loft beds, our bedside tables, bathroom vanities, closets, etc...

Super old pic, but shows our bespoke furniture.

8.  Telefericos.  These cable cars are new within the last few years and they are awesome.  Short cuts to just about everywhere without having to be down in the crazy public transportation vehicle that is braving bad traffic and stopping every 30 seconds to pick someone up/let someone off.  It's a fantastic way for tourists to see the city from a calm cabin swinging peacefully above.

Teleferico date with Jubilee!

9.  Blue skies.  If it's not rainy season (Dec-March), there are blue skies.  Every day.  It's heaven.

Blue sky!

10.  Culture.  Now, this could be a post all by itself, but I love that there are traditional clothes, traditional dances, traditional foods that everyone knows and loves and participates in.  Hundreds and hundreds of years of tradition that does not change and makes Bolivians who they are and why they are so united, despite their individual differences.

11.  Llamas.  They're all the rage in the US, I hear.  If we drive outside the city, they are roaming all the fields and countrysides!  They are even cuter in person.

We got llamas!

12.  Healthy, Andean plants - quinoa, amaranth, maca, moringa, tarwi (Andean lupine-it's a thing), chia, flax and so much more!  They grind it, put it in cookies, make drinks from it.  It's so easy to find and it's so cheap.

13.  Which brings me to fresh produce.  I'm sure I've mentioned this in many posts before, but it deserves another salute.  Every Wednesday I drive to a market about 15 minutes away and buy 3 big, overflowing bags of fresh fruit and veggies.  It's not as cheap as it used to be, but it's still pretty darn reasonable.  I also buy all my dry goods there- raisins, nuts, fried plantain chips, fresh ginger, fresh garlic.  And eggs.  And sometimes, used clothes (cause why not?).

14.  Cheap movie theater!  We don't get out a lot/we are really picky about movies, but when we go, there's the V.I.P.  Plush recliner seats, grouped in pairs with a table in between if you want some food delivered.  And, on Wednesday, 2 of us can go for just $8!

There you go!  You're welcome.

Day 13: Sorry, Bolivia

I read a really convicting blog today on Amy Medina's website, here.  She works in an international school in Tanzania and has lived there for many years.  Her thoughts are mainly geared toward how missionaries can sometimes have blind spots about where they work and how they work. You could pretty much just replace "Tanzania" with "Bolivia" and it would be about the same.  I'm gonna paste her blog here and pretend like I'm cool enough to have a guest writer today.  :)

Dear Tanzanian friends,

You know that feature on Facebook that says, "You have memories to look back on today?" I click on that notification hesitatingly, because more often than not, I wince at what I see. Oh my goodness--I used to write the most ridiculous things on Facebook. I guess everybody did, but many of my old posts reveal the ethnocentric, immature attitudes I had in my early years in Tanzania.

Complaining about electricity. Complaining about bugs. Complaining about dust. (Meanwhile, hoping that my friends back at home would realize what I saint I was for putting up with these "hardships.") Having a "white savior" mentality. Poking fun at the "amusing" things I saw in your country, many times arrogantly implying that, given the circumstances, I could do things so much better. Pointing out a lot that was wrong, and not enough that was right.

Ugh. How did you put up with me? Or, now that I know better, I should ask, How do you put up with me? Since I probably haven't changed as much as I think I have.

I was chatting with a Tanzanian co-worker (and friend) the other day, and we got onto the topic of missionaries and money. Even though this friend grew up around missionaries, she was fascinated to hear about how missionaries receive financial support from churches in their home countries. "I think a lot of the Tanzanians at Haven of Peace Academy have just assumed that you were getting paid more than we are," she told me. My jaw dropped to the ground, because HOPAC doesn't pay missionary teachers at all--we get a housing stipend, but not a salary. I immediately felt sick to my stomach. How many of our Tanzanian friends, for how many years, have assumed that we are getting rich off of their country?

Because here, though we live on support from back home, we are rich. Western missionaries in African countries live in this weird place where in our home countries, we are considered poor (like, churches invite us to use their food pantries which are for poor people), but when we are in Africa, we are incredibly privileged. Just the fact that we own a car and a couple of laptops and have the money available to fly back and forth between countries puts us in the top one percent wealthiest people in the world.

We wrestle with this tension all the time. But the truth is, as much as western missionaries come to Tanzania with this idea that we are "sacrificing" to be here, we really are vastly richer (both in money and opportunity) than almost all of the people who live here. So I can't imagine how annoying and condescending it must feel to you when we gripe about insignificant things that you have contentedly lived with your entire life.

We must seem pretty wimpy.

But that's not all. We came to your country with our own ideas about what you needed, not bothering (for a while, at least), to even ask you what you did need. We assumed that you needed us, without considering that we actually needed you even more. We had strategy meetings where we didn't include you; we wasted time and resources because we didn't ask for your help. While we were still figuring that out, you loved us anyway.

One Sunday at our African church, the pastor preached a message on the importance of missions. We were technically the only "missionaries" in the room, though I understood the message as a call to the whole congregation to be involved in mission work. Nevertheless, after the service, an African woman who I didn't know came up to me with an envelope of money. "God bless you for your service," she told me. I was speechless. It remains one of the most humbling moments of my life.

Then there's the problem that missionaries can be cliquish. Missionaries tend to gravitate towards each other, to friendships that are familiar and easy. A Tanzanian once told me, "The missionary community is hard to break into." I don't blame you for being hurt or offended by that. It shouldn't be that way. And yet, you chose to be my friend anyway.

I'm sure there are some of you reading this who would want to remind me of the good things missionaries have done in your country. You tend to be incredibly gracious. I'm not writing today to make a case for burning down missions. I'm not saying that my time here--or that of my fellow missionaries--is a waste. But there does tend to be an aura of sainthood that surrounds missionaries--both here and in our home countries, and I've had enough of that.

We are weak. Sometimes we are idiots. Sometimes we are downright arrogant and ethnocentric. Coming to that realization is really good for us, and should make us more effective.

We love your country, and we love you. Thanks for loving us, being patient with us while we learn, and gently helping us to see things from your perspective. We are so thankful for God's grace and your grace as we live out the privilege of being missionaries in your country.

Sincerely,

Amy


P.S. I write for A Life Overseas, which reaches thousands of missionaries and expat workers all around the globe. I would love to write a piece that contains insight and constructive criticism from locals in communities that have received missionaries. If that's you, would you consider writing to me at everyoneneedsalittlegrace@gmail.com with answers to these questions? I won't use any names, so feel free to be completely honest.

Day 12: Spiritual Emphasis Week.

Special speaker during middle school chapel

Twice a year, we have a Spiritual Emphasis Week at Highlands.  Usually a team comes from the US with a speaker who is prepared to share daily messages with the middle and high school students.  After that special chapel time, there are break out groups where small numbers of students get together with teachers to ask questions and ponder the material together.  It's a pretty sweet time when extra effort is put towards praying for and interacting with the students on spiritual matters.  Most of them are unbelievers or nominal Christians, at best.  As middle school Bible teacher this year, Scotty has had the privilege of organizing this week with his buddy, Luke, the high school Bible teacher.  Because of the transition in leadership we are still sifting through, we were not able to lock in a team from the U.S.  Instead, Scotty was able to tap into the many missionaries we know around here who will come each day to share about Isaiah 61.  Will you pray that God will open hearts during this week and speak His truth into them?  There's definitely some tension regarding the changes I keep alluding to and we'd love to see the Lord bring unity in our beloved school in this time!

Just wanted to leave a happy picture of our leisurely afternoon with coffee and Coffee (the dog).

Day 11: Mallasilla.

Our house in the middle of the small community of Mallasilla.

We live in a suburb of La Paz called Mallasilla.  We have lived here for 13 years- first in an apartment and now, only a block away from our apartment, in our (almost) dream home.  Neither of us have ever lived in another home for so long.  We've seen the town grow and change.  Our cobblestone road finally got paved this summer.  Another public transport route was paved and spruced up for a government initiative to bring more buses with designated stops into the city.  (Most public transport will stop wherever you want it to, which causes a lot of back-up in traffic.)  By the school, on the other side of Mallasilla, homes have sprung up out of the ground like weeds.  I can't imagine not living in this place that is so familiar.

An afternoon hike above Mallasilla.

But, I have imagined it.  When we thought the school might close last year, we imagined it.  When we think about the political instability that is coming as we approach presidential elections next month, we think about it.  But, despite the challenges of living overseas in a culture that isn't yours, speaking a language that you learned as an adult and being far away from family- this is home.  We don't feel like the Lord has given us permission to leave and even though there are a lot of question marks about the future, this is where we belong right now.  I am grateful for this certainty.

Day 10: Zion.

I was asked to speak at our women's Bible study kick-off last night and give testimony of what the Lord did through losing our son almost 9 years ago.  Can that many years really have passed by?  It was good (and sobering) for me to re-read some of my thoughts on the blog from that time and then think through how to concisely sum up some of the bigger lessons the Lord taught me in that time and the months/years following.  I'm posting the English version of what I shared last night, for those who are interested:

In 2010, I was pregnant with our second child.  Natty was 2 years old and we were thrilled to be having a son.  About 7 months into the pregnancy, I went into labor and our son was born a week or so later, at 30 weeks gestation.  Up until this crisis, I would say that my life was pretty easy. I grew up in a loving, Christian home; I had good friends; I never lacked anything I needed or wanted; I had the opportunity for a good education; I found an incredible, godly man who agreed to marry me and we began a missionary life in Bolivia together.  My first pregnancy was easy and my daughter was born without major complications. The Lord had blessed me immensely and I had very few major trials along the way. Until now. Before our son was born, I was on strict bed rest for almost 2 weeks in the clinic. The Lord impressed a verse on my heart in that time, Phillippians 4: 6-7: "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." I committed to living that verse out while I waited to see what would happen with our baby. I felt the Lord’s peace in that uncertain time. And then Zion was born. He was tiny and frail and I was terrified. Would he survive? Well meaning friends came and read scripture to me. I remember one verse in particular from Ephesians 3 that spoke of the Lord being able to do more in us than we can think or imagine.  Surely that meant He was capable of rescuing my little boy! Another couple came and said that surely the Lord would graciously take care of our son because we were missionaries and had given up our lives to serve Him in Bolivia. I knew as the words came out of their mouths that God doesn’t always work that way. Every day we visited Zion in the hospital, prayed with him, read the Bible to him, sang with him. We pleaded with God on a daily basis for his life and asked the Lord to calm our hearts in the waiting.  He died 19 days after being born.

That’s when the real struggle started.  Those pillars I had constructed that I thought were based on faith in God, were shown to be false supports that were based on a relatively easy life up to this point. On a belief that this level of pain isn’t supposed to be part of my story.  I was obviously incredibly sad and depressed. But I also began a search in my heart to reconcile a good God with a God who would take my baby away. I asked myself and others, How is this part of a good plan?? The pain was so intense for months and I cried out to God to help me trust Him; to help me understand.  I never came to a final conclusion about why...but I’ll tell you what I did learn. I learned about community. The weeks of bed rest and time in the hospital after Zion’s birth was filled with God’s people showing up and serving us. They took care of Natalie, they cooked us meals, they called us and prayed for us and offered to help us in every way possible.  I experienced His body living up to the call He’s placed on us to love one another.

God taught me about hope. He showed me that my hope up until that point was based more on things going well for me and not so much in the person of Jesus Christ giving us eternal hope- the only sure and safe thing in our lives. Imaging my son in Heaven also made that place more real for me and took my eyes off of the temporal cares of the world. 

He showed me that His greatest act of love came through death- the death of His own son for us. The idea that death and love can work together was a hard one to accept. But, as I contemplated the idea that His greatest love was shown through sending His own son to die, I began to slowly believe that maybe my son’s death could possibly be an act of love as well. Also, I found comfort in knowing that my Lord knew that pain of losing a son.  He is not a God who stands far off during our suffering, but knows what it’s like to lose. But, we have to be willing to believe that His ways, even when they include pain, are for our good. This took me a long time to be OK with.  

As time went on and my heart started to heal, I found that I had a deeper compassion for those who were suffering in any way.  Before, as someone who had not experienced deep pain and sadness, my compassion was superficial. But now, I could enter in to the pain of others and feel deeply with them.  Through that, I was able to develop more profound relationships with people.  

Even as the Lord healed me, I continued to struggle.  For a while I believed that the Lord was only going to teach me through painful experiences.  That if I was to learn from Him, it would have to be through trials. He graciously showed me that I was wrong and that He would also continue to bless me in mighty ways.  6 months after we lost Zion, I got pregnant with our daughter Jubilee. I was terrified that she would be born early and die. I was incredibly scared and literally expected one of my girls to die every time they got sick.  I realized that I needed to learn to trust the Lord again. And, not just to keep my kids safe, but to believe He was for me and that no matter what He brought into my life, I could have a deep and unshakable belief that He is good and loves me. 

Through losing our son, I was forced to take a deeper look at myself and at God. I began to know the God of Job, who said, though He slay me, I will hope in Him. I was challenged to let my treasure be in Christ alone, not in any other person or thing or circumstance in my life that will eventually fail me.  I realized on a practical level what it meant to die to myself, pick up my cross and follow Christ. His way does not promise that everything will turn out like what we want, but He is a God who humbled Himself, subjected Himself to death on a cross for His own creation who despised Him. John 15:13 tells us that greater love has no one than this; that a man lay down his life for a friend.  Now I walk more closely with this friend who laid down His life for me and because of losing my son, this friend is closer to me than He ever has been before.

Day 9: Fire

Fires destroy more than 4.2 million wild acres in Bolivia

(CNN)It's not just the Brazilian Amazon burning -- fires in Bolivia have ravaged more than 1.7 million hectares (4.2 million acres) of land, according to Bolivian officials. That's more than double the damage from just two weeks ago.

Fires are leaving blackened trees and ash-covered forest floors in their wake. The website of Bolivia's Santa Cruz region described finding charred animals in its devastated lands, and others desperately searching for food and water.

The majority of fires are in protected natural areas and in forests, according to environmental secretary Cinthia Asin on Wednesday, calling for the federal government to declare a national disaster.

"We insist on a national declaration of disaster, because we are losing a great part of our biodiversity that is also a water provider," she said.

Thousands of firefighters, park rangers, state employees, and volunteers are on the front lines fighting the fires, but new fires keep starting and spreading, she said.

The fires have claimed two lives so far, according to Bolivian President Evo Morales. He tweeted earlier this week the names of Jorge Hinojoza Vega and police officer Lucio Mamani, whom he said had died while putting out fires in the city of Sacaba and the town of Coroico, respectively.

Other state and departmental officials like the Secretary of Energy, Mines, and Hydrocarbons and the Secretary General of Santa Cruz are now also putting pressure on the Bolivian government to declare a national disaster.

But the Bolivian minister of communication Manuel Canelas said that Bolivia "is not overwhelmed" in terms of economic or technical resources that would merit a disaster declaration, according to CNN Espanol.

The Bolivian government has already hired one of the largest planes in the world, a Boeing 747 Supertanker, and a fleet of smaller ones to put out the fires in late August. There has also been international assistance -- neighboring Argentina deployed firefighters to help, Peru sent helicopters, and the United States sent tools and equipment for 2,000 firefighters to Bolivia on Thursday, according to the Santa Cruz government.

During the G7 summit in August, French President Emmanuel Macron announced a $20 million emergency fund to help Amazon countries affected by the rainforest fires.

The Amazon spans eight countries, including Bolivia. The majority of the forest is in Brazil, where a massive increase in blazing fires has caused international concern.

Will you pray for our beloved Bolivia?

Day 8: Room Mom

Jubi with 2nd grade friends.

I am a room mom this year for second grade- Jubi's class.  Room moms are the ones who communicate any important news on the class WhatsApp group (for those of you who live in the U.S. and don't know WhatsApp- it's a messaging app that is heavily depended on for communication in pretty much every other country on the planet), organize school events, collect money for said events and generally seek to unify the families in the grade they represent.  There was no interest or availability this year on the part of the parents of second grade to participate as room mom, so I volunteered with a fair amount of fear and trembling.  Not because I don't want to help, but I tend to feel a little out of my league when it comes to being the sole person responsible to make sure my class knows what's going on and heading up event planning.  Occasionally, I feel insecure about needing to communicate and understand everything in Spanish that passes between the Parent/Student Organization and the class.  And, generally, I prefer to be a behind the scenes kind of person who is available to serve if you just tell me what to do.  Not the person telling others what to do. 

Anyway, apart from having to be a lot more attentive to my WhatsApp chats than I really like to be, I am feeling surprisingly grateful and honored to be a part of this room mom group.  There is at least one woman, if not more, for each grade who has committed to serving their kid's class in any and every way possible.  They show up for the meetings with positivity and opinions and a desire to see the school succeed.  More than that, they want to be part of creating an environment of community and fun and learning for their kids and that kind of commitment is inspiring and beautiful to me.  It's just another facet of what makes Highlands such a unique and special place.  Not only do we have teachers who have left their home, country and family to serve the needs of international families overseas, but there are parents who are willing to go above and beyond to serve the school community as well, for the good of the whole.  It's so refreshing to be a part of this group in a time when many families are feeling a bit shaken by the unexpected changes that are taking place.  I love knowing that I get to serve in this way and hope that the Lord will use me in 2nd grade to bring a sense of stability and hope to those families.

Day 7: Light in the darkness

Currently, my family is sitting snug and warm around a wood fire while Scotty reads to the kids.  I hear laughter and smile because my husband can make them laugh like no other.  Calming music is coming from my speaker and I have innumerable reasons to feel profoundly grateful.  But, my heart is heavy.

There are so many friends around me who are experiencing pain, deep pain.  There are circumstances that they have no control over that are tearing them apart.  There are words that have been spoken to them that have wounded them.  There are times when it seems like hope for them remains far off.  I am feeling their pain today.  I am feeling the weight of a broken world and the tension that the Lord is so near while sin is so active all around us.

"I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."  John 8:12  By the grace of God, may we all be light in a dark place today.

Day 6: Traditions

Ok, so we're just going to pretend that I'm not a day behind and call this day 6. 

This morning we had cinnamon rolls and eggs- it tasted like Christmas!

Today is Saturday.  Our family LOVES Saturday because of one thing: Special Breakfast.  Every Saturday, I wake up and make a special breakfast- pancakes, crepes, german pancakes (dutch babies), eggs, waffles, cinnamon rolls, muffins, french toast casserole...anything I can think of that I have ingredients for!  Scotty and I have always been big fans of breakfast.  In fact, at our evening wedding reception we served BREAKFAST.  It was epic. 

After a large pot of coffee has been brewed and breakfast has been cooked, we sit down and eat together.  We feast.  We laugh and tell jokes and sometimes listen to our favorite comedian on Alexa tell jokes.  We pass the syrup and stuff our faces and look at each other and thank God we're a family.  (To be real, sometimes we argue and have bad attitudes, too.)  And, we work through a book called Our 24 Family Ways (Clay and Sally Clarkson) that helps us to think biblically about what important precepts we want to incorporate into our kids worldview.  I have always been a bit daunted by what family devotion times should look like.  I talk a lot with the kids throughout the day in an informal way about our faith and how that plays out.  But, actually sitting down and trying to capture the attention of an almost 11 year-old, a 7 year-old and an almost 5 year-old can be a challenge.  Going through this book at the end of special breakfast every Saturday has turned it into a tradition that they are ready and willing for.  And, it's such a joy to me to see my kids interacting with the Bible, thinking for themselves and praying with us. 

Traditions give us such a neat opportunity to connect as a family and set rhythms into our day.  Other regular traditions we have is reading books together.  At least with the older two, I read aloud to them on a daily basis and we enter into imaginary adventures together.  Although we haven't been as consistent lately, we try to take the kids out on dates to give them individual time with us.  Because Natty goes to bed significantly later than Jubi and Moses, we have started going through a Christian book aimed at tween girls.  Scotty and I have the tradition of working out together at least once a week.  A less frequent tradition is taking road trips- it's the only way to travel in Bolivia and is always ripe with adventure!!  This usually includes books on tape, lots of snacks, travel packs for the kids (stickers, notebooks, markers, etc...) and obligatory photo stops with the llamas or volcanoes.

Obligatory volcano photo on the Bolivia/Chile border.

What traditions do you love from your family??

Day 5.5: Leaving.

Ahhh!  I missed yesterday!  It was a busy day and, well, I kinda forgot.  And, I have a cold.  Sorry...

BFFs.

The other thing that happened yesterday is that a classmate of Natty's left the school suddenly.  I'm sure I've mentioned it before on the blog, but it still holds true: When people leave it's really hard. 

We live in this town where everybody knows everybody else's business and in the Highlands community, we are tight.  I don't know everyone, but I know their faces and I see them every day and for our kids, there are very few changes in their classes.  They start out with a crew in kindergarten and those kids are more or less the ones they will grow up with and mostly likely stay in touch with all their lives.  I love that!  I especially love it because we are also a school staffed mainly by missionaries.  Often times those missionaries are young and not necessarily on the long-term missions path...which translates into lots of them coming, getting attached to our kids (and vice versa) and then leaving.  So, in their precious few years, our kids have had to say good-bye to a lot more loved ones than most kids their age.  Don't even get me started on the yearly heart-wrenching ritual of saying good-bye to grandparents!

So, when I showed up to school yesterday, I first saw two of Natty's classmates standing outside, sobbing.  Then I went inside and saw more.  Than Natty came over with red eyes.  Then I gave her leaving classmate a hug and I started crying!  My sorrow was more sympathy for my daughter- knowing that this will not be the last time she goes through this.  Hoping that she'll continue to let people in and love well and grieve well.  Knowing that TCKs (third culture kids) like ours often grow up with nicely constructed emotional walls to protect them from all this turmoil. 

Our school is going through a great time of transition and things are a bit rocky.  Will you pray with me for our kids' hearts and that the Lord will maintain this sweet community that we are so grateful for?

Day 4: Stage Fright.

When I was young, I used to do everything that was humanly possible to not be the center of attention.  If I was at school, my goal was to get through the day unseen.  I dreaded being called on to answer a question.  I felt physically ill when I had to get up in front of my class to give an oral presentation.  I even pretended I didn't feel well after I got baptized so that I wouldn't have to stand up in front of the church and have everyone come by and shake my hand (I was 17!).

As I got older, I grew in confidence and didn't mind speaking up when I had something to say and was around my friends.  But, if there was a debate to be had or even a problem to look for a solution to, I usually deferred to others to make the decision.  Even now, at almost 40 and much more comfortable in my own skin, I usually stay quiet during our small group Bible studies.

This morning I had a relapse.  We were having a women's group meeting in which we were mainly discussing details about what this semester will look like, how the time will be organized and the different ways we could serve.  Per usual, I was observing, listening, and predominantly without a strong opinion on what was being shared.  At one point, toward the end of our time, a friend of mine said, "Say something!  I want to hear what you think!" Then she stopped the person who was talking, brought everyone's attention to me and said, "I think we should hear what Lisa has to say.  This is a deep woman!"  While I was flattered, I was caught off-guard without anything in particular to add to the discussion and I was embarrassed.  I turned a little red.  Someone thought it would be cute to point that out too.  More embarrassment.  I confessed to the ladies that I really had nothing to share and the leader of the discussion could probably tell I was uncomfortable and assured everyone they would hear from me when it was my turn to teach (you can maybe now imagine how I'm feeling about that!).

I marveled later at how that instinct is still in me to feel so overwhelmed by being put on the spot.  Years ago, I read a super helpful book called Introverts in the Church that helped me put words to what I've felt all my life.  To oversimplify greatly, the evangelical church can tend toward elevating extroverted leaders and undervalue or even misunderstand an introverted persons abilities and spirituality.  One man quoted in the book compares evangelical churches to a "non-alcoholic cocktail party"- meaning there is high value placed on words, sharing, mingling and overt expressions as compared to more contemplative spiritual traditions.  He goes on to say, "To participate in the evangelical church is to join the conversation.  Introverts, however, spare our words in unfamiliar contexts and often prefer to observe on the fringe rather than engage in the center.  Our spirituality may be grounded in Scripture, yet is quieter, slower and more contemplative."  Brain science actually shows that an introverts processing centers take external information on a much longer pathway through various areas of the brain whereas extroverts have a shorter journey.  Hence, me observing and not fully processing what happened until hours later.  I've pushed myself over time to grow in this area, but it will probably always be one of my greatest challenges.

Does anyone else feel this way?

Day 3: Imagination.

Scotty took this picture in India last month.  Doesn't it just beg for a creative story??

I had a vivid imagination as a child.  I could spend a lot of time alone in my bedroom pretending my day-bed was a ship being tossed at sea and I would hold onto the metal bars to keep from being flung into the violent ocean.  Even in college I sometimes imagined that the little green lizards sitting on the pool deck watching me swim could sense that we were both made for the glory of the King.

My absolute favorite pastime with my children has always been reading creative books.  I'm halfway through The Fellowship of the Ring with Natty and I've noticed how she's started being more dramatic in the way she talks about everyday things and sometimes even waxes eloquently about immortality.  It's all in playfulness, but it makes me smile to see her come alive as her imagination is stimulated.  Moses comes downstairs after rest-time in a different super-hero outfit each day.  He tells me what super powers he possesses and how he plans on using it to defeat the bad guys.  Since Jubi and Moses spend a lot of time playing together, she was always finds a way to work a princess into the story.  These are all common games that children play, but sometimes we underestimate imagination. 

When I think about some of the stories we know in the Bible, I realize how important it is to have a great imagination to understand the full scope of what the Lord has done over the course of our history.  As someone who has been a Christian more years than not, what we read in scripture can sound familiar.  But, have you ever stopped to think about what it actually was like to be thrown down among hungry and ferocious lions only to find that their mouths had been miraculously closed?  And then to be in the kings shoes the next morning when he finds, to his surprise and relief, that your friend Daniel is actually still alive? 

There's a homeless woman who walks the streets of the area I live every day with a bundle on her back, dirty clothes and recycled tennis shoes.  She lives in a cave and has stray dogs faithfully following her.  I've never seen her interact with another human being.  What would it be like for me to see her with her hair brushed, clean clothes and calmly looking into the eyes of someone while they talked with her?  Imagining this gives me a clearer understanding of what took place in the life of the demon possessed man whom Jesus freed. 

The Lord gave us an imagination because He is creative and we are to be like Him.  He also gave it to us so we could better understand the depth of His love, His work, His grace.  I hope Scotty and I can continue to foster that in our kids for their sake and for ours.

Day 2: Efficiency

I drove real slow today.  My car is having radiator issues but we haven't had a chance to fix it and Scotty's truck is not starting, so I'm having to drive some despite the overheating.  Hence, driving slowly.  Bolivia has made me learn how to drive fast and aggressively...it's really the only way to get anywhere in a city where everyone is out for themselves behind the wheel.  However, this style of driving leads to a lot of road rage for me.  I get annoyed when people pull out right in front of me when they could have waited because there's no one behind me.  I shoot daggers with my eyes at the people who stop in the middle of the road (literally) because they're checking their phone or picking up passengers or forgot they weren't the only ones in the street.  I'm exasperated when I have to slam on my brakes because a car coming from the other direction has decided to pass a slow dump truck on a blind curve.  Basically, when I'm on the road, I'm in a hurry and that adds to the stresses me out.

But, today, I drove slow.  The guy passing on the blind curve didn't bother me because I wasn't going fast enough to have to slam on my brakes.  People turning out in front of me weren't a problem cause I was already coasting along so calmly that I just had to lift off my accelerator a little.  I felt so relaxed!  It made me start wondering about other areas of my life where I push myself to hurry- believing somehow that time is too precious to "waste".  Is efficiency so very important?  Do we add unneeded stress to our lives and even miss out on moments with those we love because we need to make sure we are packing every minute full of important things?

In this phase of my life, there is a lot going on.  I have three school age kids and a big house and errands to run and I live in a less-than-efficient country.  I've realized when I have the chance to slow down, I don't know what to do with it.  I find it difficult to always make time to sit and listen to my kids or play with them.  I feel guilty for not being efficient.  I don't think that's healthy- not for me, at least.  Driving slow today caused my thoughts to slow down, too.  It gave me a chance to think, to pray, to notice the color of the mountains around me, to realize that I live a lot of my life rushed.  It's not always been that way; it's a habit that I've formed and maybe a message I've accepted: Don't waste time. But, is slowing down a waste?  Even after I fix my car, I think I'll keep driving slow.

Day 1: Words of power.

Remember yesterday when I said I thought I could write every day for 30 days?  I might have been wrong. My mind whirls with all the trivial things that happened today and I wonder if anyone would care to read about them.  There are so many well-written blogs with handy links and perfectly crafted ideas...what have I to say that has not already been said in a hundred different ways?  Is there really any value to what I think?  I have to admit this is something I mostly subconsciously struggle with.Other people are smarter or more informed or better communicators.

But, our words have power.  It's something I've been thinking a lot about this last year or so.  Think about the last time someone complimented you...not on what you were wearing, but on your character.  An older man at church told me one time, "You do such a great job of making people feel welcome and important."  I never knew that!  It gave me the confidence and desire to put myself out there a little bit more on Sunday mornings when my natural tendencies make me want to run out of church the second it's over to avoid all those inevitable small-talk conversations.  This man took the time to communicate one small thing to me that he appreciated and it made a huge difference. 

I've been trying this out on my kids more.  It can be very tempting to communicate my displeasure with them when they are arguing or "forgot" to clean up their junk again.  But, am I taking the time to praise them when they are playing well together or just telling them what amazing little people I think they are- calling them to something a little greater?  I've read that facial expression and body language speak many times louder than the words we use.  What does my tone of voice and my death-stare communicate to my children?  Moses is especially susceptible to a harsh tone and it immediately triggers a fear response in him.  As tricky as this can be, (cause, let's face it- we mommies get annoyed sometimes) it is such an important reminder that I can show love to my children by correcting or directing them in a tone that says, "I mean business right now, but you're important to me, so let's figure out together how we can make this work." 

Think about your words this week.  What you're saying.  How you're saying it.  How's that goin' for ya?