Seeing people do what they were born to do is one of the most beautiful things in the universe. Watching Tim Treadwell in action is one of those occurrences. His generosity and down-to-earth friendliness is poetry in motion, er, puns in motion to be more accurate. His quick comments on facebook are only the surface. He is also a blogger (handle: Stumbler), a master of delicacies in the kitchen, a teacher at a boarding school and (sssshhhh) a secret agent.

Let me back up just a bit and tell you how we met. If memory serves …

So there is this guy in England. He knows how to google. He is looking for info to teach his students about different countries and missionaries around the world. So he punches in “ex-pat Bolivia” and my dear friends the Holmans (Joe and Denise) pop up. So they strike up an online friendship based solely on a candy vs. sweets rivalry. He is sending them chocolates, sour bombs and biscuits. They are so kind to allow us to taste his treats and voice our opinion on the battle between American candy and sweets from the UK. Comments and convos start on facebook. Links are exchanged. I become a co-conspirator in secret agent hi-jinx. We are now friends.

That is the short story. There are other things I could tell you, but, as they say… then I’d have to kill you. (muahh ha ha!) Suffice it to say that Tim is a great guy and I am very thankful to know him. I am glad we stumbled upon eachother.

To watch a video of our most recent not-so-secret op together click this link to the House of Dreams blog and revel in the absolute cuteness of our Dreamers:

Connecting Continents

Conversations with familiar friends is one of the ways that God gets through to me. Heart to heart and face to face sharing is unmatched heavenly glory here on earth.

One such conversation has been on repeat in my soul for a few days now. Point blank I revealed to my friend a startling fear that had come upon me. She understood. She did not condemn nor belittle the reality of my worry. She did not validate it either. She simply spoke truth to it, to me. I am so grateful for her. I am so grateful for the truth that God has placed in her which she was able to minister to me.

The fear? Irrelevant.

The truth? Timeless.

This is the gist:

“I want my children to know: who they are and Whose they are.”

Yes! That is exactly what I needed to hear!

Who…

This calls to the verse about train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it. “In the way he should go” refers to “the natural bend”. As I see my children lean towards their specific talents, gifts, abilities, passions and the like I can enable them to explore these aspects of their personalities, thereby helping them to find out who they are. We can foster an environment of confidence and freedom thus boosting self-esteem and celebrating diversity in the uniqueness of all humanity.

Whose…

A high self-esteem bolstered and flourishing can quickly rot to high-minded, slippery-slope pride when not treated with humility under the hand of our Maker. Humble humans who know Whose they are will not seek to separate themselves, rather they will find refuge in the One who can help. They also choose to see others through the eyes of Whose they are, which can only lead to a better society when we know that those are eyes of love, acceptance and hope.

Who and Whose. This is one of those non-negotiables that I am going to instill in my kids’ lives:

1. Learn to love.

2. Love to learn.

3. As parents we will make mistakes. You are welcome.

and now 4. Know who you are and Whose you are.

For Joe, Denise, Seth, Jacob, Caleb, Benjamin, David, Josh, Faith, Hope, Joy, Patience, and Mercy Holman

Porch View

Misty Mountains

Rainbow Circus

Night Skyline

And just because I miss you soooooooooo very much…

Butter!

Love,

…now you must show sincere love to each other as brothers and sisters. Love each other deeply with all your heart. ²³ For you have been born again, but not to a life that will quickly end. Your new life will last forever because it comes from the eternal, living word of God. ²⁴ As the Scriptures say,

“People are like grass;
their beauty is like a flower in the field.
The grass withers and the flower fades.
²⁵ But the word of the Lord remains forever.”…

1 Peter 1:22 – 25

These images are dedicated to anyone who has cried the beautiful tears of displacement.

Find solace in the quickness of temporal life and the living eternity before us.

Find grace in your beauty that brings glory to our Maker and impresses on others the promise of destiny.

Find joy in the full-hearted love we share as brothers and sisters.

Can I get a shout out for the wonders of coffee? The stuff is great! My shelves remain stocked with all kinds of coffee beans thanks to family and friends who encourage my habit. I even have a few different devices for preparing my coffee just the way I like it: a grinder, a french press, a cappuccino maker, and a good old fashioned drip style maker. People who know me know that I always have time for a chat over a hot cup o’ joe.

a treasured gift from a precious friend

When Kaitlynn came home we immediately started in with English. Ever eager to learn she repeated everything like a parrot. The other night she said her first English word on her own initiative. What did she say? So glad you asked. “Lub-oo,” she said as we went through our bedtime routine. For those that are rusty in toddler talk that is: love you. My heart just melted away!

Well, this morning came the second English word of her own accord. This time she saw me sit down with my steamy mug and cheerfully pronounced, “Coffee!” Made me laugh out loud with sheer joy! Oh yes, I indoctrinate them young around here. So far all my girls love the stuff. The boys won’t touch it, neither will my man.

We shall conclude this caffeinated essay with my favorite coffee quote:

Faith without coffee is dead.

What are your feelings towards coffee?

Saturday, April 3, we carved out time to climb Mt. Tunari. Climbing with friends makes the road not so rough. We communed with eachother, with creation and with our Maker.

Enjoy the pictures!

(Click the play button to open a new page where the images will be displayed. More photos on FaceBook)

Free scrapbook design customized with Smilebox

Until the next climb…

The fresh air was filling my lungs. I took a deep breath to enjoy it. We stood on the porch surveying the fertile hues that seeped into the murky brown lake. My girls reminisced about this and that. Then it got quiet. Out of the blue my three year old boy matter-of-factly announced, “Dat’s a cow.” We looked at one another and burst out laughing, my girls and I. Then we listened. He had indeed heard the moo of the cow in the meadow down the lane.

Being the quick humored boy that he is he joined us in a good belly laugh at his frank interruption to the serenity of the moment. Later in the day I we had a few chuckles about it as we remember his cuteness together.

The idea of a hike was proposed for the afternoon. After a morning baking in the sun by the pool the overcast path was inviting. A cool breeze picked up to aid us on the upwards walk. Twenty-six sprightly feet ran ahead of the six parental ones leisurely lagging behind. The incline was gentle. Again things fell quiet as we took in the beauty. All of a sudden the littlest boy, my boy, turned around and announced, “Dat’s a cow.” Again a pause was followed by a good laugh, especially since  Tyler was slightly mistaken in that the sound he heard was  not a moo but instead the roll of thunder. He once again joined us with his funny chuckles.

The mouth of the cave was our destination. The children scaled, crawled, and spelunked as us big people watched, pointed and photographed. The thunder continued softly in the distance and the clouds darkened in the sky. The lull in the conversation came. Mist and sprinkles began to form. This time the announcement came from my friend. The matronly observation was thus, “Hm, looks like the cows are about to start peeing.” Glances of wide-eyed disbelief were exchanged before we doubled over in laughter. It was a perfect punchline.

I assumed that was the end of our bovine frivolity. There was one more funny tucked away during our time; my oldest daughter was the instigator. The following morning I was up with the sun. I wrapped a comforter around and wandered out to greet the day. Low and behold my Raimy had beat me to the welcoming spot. I crouched down beside my girl. Both of us were still groggy with puffy sunburned faces. We exchanged monosyllabic noises and went back to letting the breaking dawn work its wakening magic. Quiet calm surrounded the chirps of birds. Then came the announcement, “That’s a cow.” Sure enough bessy had made her presence known to us with a lowing in the field below. We looked at one another and grinned. The grin broke out into a full blown laugh as the sun broke out from the clouds.

The cow that started it all was finally spotted. That rump was all we saw of the infamous cow that vacation.

Would you believe me when I tell you that one of the toys Tyler brought on our trip was a plastic cow?

One of the simplest yet most profound songs by the legendary Beatles often gets the honor of the repeat option on my portable jute box. The song has a great refrain and the lyrics define a challenging aspect of my life. Goodbyes and Hellos are frequent. I talked about it in detail on a 2008 post: Revolving Door.

This year is going to be chock-full of these two juxtaposed buddies. I am fully happy for my loved ones who will be moving on and I am also totally bummed in a very selfish way ’cause I know I’ll miss them. Then I get happy again thinking of the super, wonderful hellos that I am anticipating too.

My 2010 Goodbyes:

(Names changed for privacy purposes. Unless you know who I am talking about then hopefully you will smile with me as we wish them well on their way and look for the kleenex box.)

• Señora Blanca – leaving on a year long furlough
• Señora Toro – moving back to the States after a fulfilling mission
• Señora Hombre Santo – leaving on a nine month furlough
• Señora G. Tres – moving to La Paz to continue their mission
• Mother Teresa – going to Spain for three months to visit her newborn twin grandkids
• Miss Gazelle – already had to say goodbye to one of the best workers ever in the House of Dreams
• My Dreamers – the constant release of our precious kiddos into new lives

My 2010 Hellos:

(The following names have been changed for privacy as well. Unless you know who I am talking about then you can fling open your arms and your hearts to join my in welcoming them.)

• Señor Regalos and his wife My Lovely – a young missionary couple coming to work with us
• My Bolivianita – our daughter
• Mama Mia and Opa – my mom and dad will be visiting when the adoption is finalized
• La Suegra – DaRonn’s mom is also coming to Bolivia
• New Dreamers – receiving new kids is one of the greatest things in the world

- o -

Technology connected me to a song before my time. Technology will keep me connected to many of the people I love who are leaving. Now where is my ginger tea…

An assembly of whatnots converged on my house and blessed my socks off last Friday. It was called ‘Gracias por Su Gracia’ (Thanks for His Grace). Missionaries new and old gathered to tell their stories of the grace of God in their darkest hour serving in a cross-culture context. A Thanksgiving-esque feast was served: turkey, potatoes, gravy, cranberry sauce, mac’n'cheese, pumpkin pie and more.

The diversity at the table was spectacular. First there were a variety of countries present: Bolivia, Canada, United States, and technically Ecuador. Our ages ranged from the tiniest missionary kid of only one year to the honorable grandparents of the missionary kids down for a visit. The skin tones painted a lovely landscape. Though vastly different the one thing that bound us together was our call to missions. It was such an honor to have three parents of my friends with us from the States. Their perspective was invaluable. To be able to look around my table and see people who I get to call friends sitting and supping with me filled my heart.

It was an unforgettable afternoon. Thank you, God, for filling us with your goodness.

Enjoy these pictures of the 30 person, 2 turkey, scars and stars, shindig.

The island of grub in the kitchen

The Kid Table

The Big Kid Table

DaRonn and the Drumstick

You know when you are driving and you misjudge where the curb is and kinda bump into it as you roll over the corner? We say, “Curb check. Yep, it’s still there.”

Recently I had a pride curb check. No one was injured, it just caught me up and made me take notice. This is the story of what happened.

Us gals were sitting in my living room drinking coffee and enjoying some yummy treats. One of my friends began to share about a new creative project she was working on. The conversation steered around to some of the girls giving advice and offering ideas. One had seen a pattern online. The lady with the new project said something along the lines that she didn’t want to use a pattern from online; she wanted to come up with something original. I probed and asked why.

“If you were an artist you would understand,” she said as the conversation moved to another topic.

Curb check! Yep, there is still some pride there.

My gray matter began to mutter, though I would not let my face betray me. I nodded and smiled and tracked the main parts of the talk all the while retorts and self defense became dangerously large corners threatening to ruin the road trip. I had to finally shut myself up. The lines I was feeding myself were embarrassing and down right rude. If I had said them out loud I would have probably destroyed more than one friendship that day.

The more mild ones were: how dare you?, but I am an artist!, if you only knew just how creative I am!, have you not been reading my blog?, what kind of friend do you think you are to assume that you are the only ar-teest in the whole bunch?

Oh, yes, it was ugly.

I was stung. Then, after all my dearies had gone and I went back over it I realized that this was nothing more than a curb check. I needed to feel a little jostle to know that I was veering in the wrong direction.

I am grateful, today, for that encounter. Since then I have been more aware of moments when I choose pride over humility.

Tim Keller wrote an article entitled ‘The Advent of Humility’. In it he addresses the instruction found in the bible to humble yourself. He explains that if we focus on being humble it is a quick and slippery slope to pride in that we become impressed with our humility. So what is the solution? Instead of focusing on being humble he suggests to focus on grace. God has grace for us and we extend grace to others. The natural consequence of a gracious life is a humble attitude.

Have you had a curb check recently? Could it be an opportunity to extend (and receive) grace? Let us be grateful to our Lord for helping us grow and change.

Grace be unto you.