The wall started white. A blank canvas beckoned.

A tree emerged. A tree to carve our thanks upon. A tree like the one of our Lord. For we know that giving thanks often follows sacrifice.

We mark the entrance to our home with thanks to Him. The rebellious act of scribbling on the wall redeemed by His grace in an act of penitence. Our sin redeemed by His love. Our hearts purified as we enter His gates with thanksgiving.

The first thanks: books, snakes, my children, and three prayers.

Thanks grew as a tree does. Friends coming and going added their thanks to ours. Thanks given in community ministers grace to the givers. Some approach the wall with timidity and say with their mouths, “I feel uncomfortable writing on the wall.” Yes, breaking from the routine to say thanks can make one uneasy. Facing the wall and taking action does not come easy to all. Others grab up a marking tool and jump up and down in front of the opportunity before them. “How many can I do?” They beg to pour out permanent thanks. Not surprisingly the youngest ones, and the ones with childlike hearts, are most prompt to spill out heartfelt thanks. Shorter lives make for longer thanksgiving. How can that be when longer lives have had more time to be filled with blessing? I must decrease and become like my short ones so that He might increase.

Love, the word most often inscribed by many hands and hearts. Unintentional, yet we know Who intended it. The One who first wrote love on our hearts.

Family, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, and friends follow as the most common thanks. Unity, the graffiti of gratitude.

Thankfulness taught while kneeling down by modeling and molding, we write then we pray.

My top three favorite ones:

Tyler told me the two figures he drew are himself and God, and that God is the bigger one.

In red letters across the truck of the tree a child thanks God for The Cross. Amen.

And a final look at the whole wall on this Thanksgiving Day. If you come to our home, please add your thanks to this gratitude collection.

“Enter into His gates with thanksgiving” (Psalm 100:4)

At the end of our senior year of high school a fellow classmate handed me a wallet sized picture of herself. She had written a nice message on the back. It was the things to do at our school in 1994. I thanked her and immediately flipped it over to see her precious words. Perfect bubbly letters said, “Never change! Stay just the way you are! xoxo.” [flowers, smiley faces, hearts and her signature.]  Even though she had already walked away I said out loud, “Well, that ain’t gonna happen.”

I didn’t intend on freezing myself at the maturity level of a high school graduate. I appreciate her sentiment; she affirmed my character. Nice. Still, I had ambitions of change, things I wanted to learn, places I wanted to go. In pursuit of these goals I refused to stay the same.

Quite a few years have passed since then. I have met so many people who have been like rocks along a stream altering its course, altering my course. I procrastinated with this list because I reached 10 too fast and still had a huge pile of people to name who changed my life. I decided to, instead, make a list of people groups. In fact, these people groups continue to determine the direction of my life. For that I am eternally grateful.

10. Antagonists – Challenge me to be strong and know what I believe.

9. Bosses – Taught me the value of a strong work ethic, and confirmed I prefer to be self-employed.

8. Pastors and church leaders – Walk alongside as we love God and love people together.

7. Teachers – Display my passions and help me strive for accomplishment.

6. Friends – Lifelines. Reality checkers. Dream believers.

5. Aunts, Uncles, Cousins and Grandparents – Bloodlines of validation.

4. Siblings – Lucas, Emily, Terry, Shawn, Nick, Kent, Jerrod and Eric, I love you!!!

3. Kids (mine and other people’s) – I imagine I shall forever have young people in my life.

2. Parents – You guys continue to amaze me with your boundless, unconditional love.

1. Spouse – Teammate. Soul mate. Partner. Mind reader. Friend.

*** Next list: 10 Best Missions Books and Articles ***

In Cochabamba, the city of Eternal Spring, Fall comes and goes unnoticed when the world celebrates the resurrection of Christ. So we have a pretend Autumn when the months start to end in brrrrr. Our luck this year brought early rains which usually don’t start until our Summer comes in November. Our September Spring chilled off a bit and put me in the mood to celebrate Northern Autumn.

While in the States I visited my favorite bean shop in the whole wide world. Spice Merchant in Wichita, Kansas has never failed me. I found a new decaf flavor: Pumpkin Spice. Whence first I laid my eyes on it I knew I had to have a party.

This week my coffee loving friends gathered around the fresh brew and the Autumny yumminess they graciously brought to share. I opted for an evening party so the house felt more cozy with candles and low light. Knowing the theme a few of the gals even dressed in warm Autumn colors. What a night! The kids buzzed around indoors and out. The conversation rivaled the treats with a tantalizing nature. My heart swelled with the goodness all around.

Even though in all that fun I forgot to snap a few pics I do have a nice fallish one to share. My daughter Gabrielle and I just happened to be both wearing orange to a different party not long ago. A clown there gave her an orange heart shaped balloon. A perfect photo op if I do say so myself.

Happy Autumn my friends!

Through the miracle of the Internet my friendships have taken on a whole new dimension. Within that dimension are good friends who I have never met in person. In some cases I couldn’t even recognize their voice or pick them out of a crowd but I still consider them good friends. We know each others likes and dislikes. We even play games together online. Of course you know that already.

This Internet truly revolutionized how I relate with people. It saddens me to hear veteran missionaries who live in metropolitan areas refuse to learn how to use the Internet to connect with people. First, it limits their influence and relevance in the lives of the people of the nation they are supposed to be helping. Second, it limits the number of people around the world who could share the load of reaching out by sending encouraging notes, making donations, praying or even making the jump to be a missionary. Just as an industry needs to stay sharp to stay alive I believe that the world of missions needs to utilize every tool available to get the work done.

Even though my day today will be spent in the ups and downs of international flights, airports, connections and all that surrounds a transcontinental trip, the Internet allows me to stay in touch with you. Phenomenal! Some of you I will be able to hug on in just a short while. I am so excited about that! Thanks to blogs, facebook, email and phone calls the catch up time shrinks dramatically. We continue on along the uninterrupted string of relationships maintained online. Even just ten years ago when we first started on the mission field this reality did not exist. What wonders!

Talk Topic Q: What will you be doing with your friends this weekend?

Friends are God's way of taking care of us.

This very awesome cup was given to me by a dear friend right here in Cochabamba. It was wrapped in a cute green bag along with some other very fun goodies. I feel loved!

Even though more than a year passed during which we relied on phone calls and facebook to keep in touch when we saw each other again it was as if we had never parted. She lives 5 minutes up the street from me.

Scattered around the city are a handful of ladies who live close enough to hug. We do coffee together. We get our nails done together. We get our kids together to hang out. We go to the movies together. Most importantly we talk and laugh and cry and pray and share our hearts.

An occupational hazard of mission work is getting caught in the revolving door of hellos and goodbyes. Maybe that makes us treasure more the times we have when we live a quick drive from each other.

A while ago I started to take pictures with my friends. I call the folder where they are stored ‘&’. These images are so precious to me.

Talk Topic Q: What do you do to show your friends you appreciate them?

Quote from the movie Tombstone

Turkey Creek Jack Johnson: Why you doin’ this, Doc?

Doc Holliday: Because Wyatt Earp is my friend.

Turkey Creek Jack Johnson: Friend? Hell, I got lots of friends.

Doc Holliday: … I don’t.

Those lines come at the end of the following clip. In case you prefer your children not hear the word ‘hell’ used as an expletive you might want to wait to watch it.

Click here to view the embedded video.

My husband, DaRonn, and I are best friends. We’ve been that way since high school. Some take the liberty to say, “Oh, you were high school sweethearts!” Nope. We really were just very good friends. The romantic stuff didn’t start until the year we were engaged and then married (1996).

Movies are one of the things both he and I love. His recall for quoting flicks is nothing less than astounding. I amuse him with my atrocious actor identification skills. Not many favorite shows appear on both of our lists. Yet, Tombstone happens to be one of those rare ones that we both thoroughly enjoy.

The reason might just be the theme of loyalty displayed in this Western cowboy show. Shared values in a marriage makes things run much smoother. Whereas the two individuals needn’t be identical in this area, some close similarities makes for a more peaceful home. The character trait of loyalty can be found in the top ten of most important values to both DaRonn and I.

We hang out together frequently throughout the week. When I see something cool his name pops into my mind to call first. We seek and take advice from each other. I am so very happy to be able to call my man my best friend.

Talk Topic Q: What do you do to stay friends with your spouse?

P.S. From this union of friendship and martial devotion have come five wonderful children. The youngest son turns five today! Happy birthday Tyler!

When was the last time you received a hand-written letter in the mail? When was the last time you took the time to write a letter by hand and send it through regular post? I used to do this all the time. Now I have only a few special people with whom I stay connected thanks to the post. Granted, the post can be unreliable and take for what seems like forever, but I like it. I love the anticipation of holding the weight of an envelope after it traverses continents knowing my friend held those exact papers in her hands before sending them to me. I smell the letter before I open it, after I open it and after I read it and before I re-read it.

When one uproots and goes to live thousands of miles away the enormous trepidation can choke. The wondering begins. Who will remain a close friend? Who will I have to let go of… for this season? The answers surprise.

One friend who I met at art club in high school remains close. I get to see her in just a few days! I am so grateful for this friendship.

Becky and me (and Tyler) the last time we were together

I have stayed tight with a few more ladies who I have met along the way. Even though our paths diverged after a time of walking hand in hand we stay close because we hold each other’s hearts.

Talk Topic Q: How do you stay in touch with friends who live far away from you?

my brother Lucas and me

Exciting news! In case you hadn’t heard I get to go to my sister’s wedding! My parents are my benefactors for this wonderful trip. Can I just tell you I am overjoyed? My heart is thrilled at the promise of spending 10 days with my family. I leave this weekend.

Yes, I will be going up without my kids or husband. I don’t really feel like getting into all the ins and outs of why we aren’t bringing everyone up yet. Suffice it to say I am focusing on being happy about the fact that I get to go up and see everyone and be there for this momentous occasion.

my sister Emily and me

In light of preparing not only my bags but my brain too for this trip I realized the transformation that has taken place with my relationships with my family. Somehow, someway we have turned into friends. When we Skype or talk on the phone (thank you Magic Jack) the conversations are those of friends.

How fabulous!

You know? This means that I can anticipate my relationship with my children growing into a friendship. Wow. That excites me.

Upon being grateful for the friendships my family and I have forged I began to consider the multitude of people I have the honor of calling friends. Near and far, old and new, tangible and virtual I value deeply the people in my life.

This week on ‘the @’ I’ll be touching on the dynamics of friendship in my life. I look forward to hearing your thoughts as we explore this topic together.

Talk Topic Q: How do you stay in touch with family?

P.S. If you are in the Omaha area and would like to come hear me talk about Bolivia on September 11^th, contact me and I can get you the details about the church I will be at.  The 12^th – the 19^th I will be in Wichita. Let me know if you will be close and we can get together.

We are coming up on the celebration of 10 years as missionaries. {yeah!} I feel as though I should be a fount of wisdom spitting out juicy nuggets of knowledge on everyone I meet. Every time I sit down to write a sage filled post on the topic, though, I got nada! Zilch. Zero. Othingnay.

I want to talk about it. Really. So that is where you come in to save the day. I invite you to ask me anything.  Pursues these babies for some ideas : 10 years as a missionary, 15 years married (in Nov.), 5 kids (4 homegrown, 1 imported), orphanage, church, other missionaryish work, Bolivia, Spanish, coffee, cacti, and sushi. Or just get creative!

You can ask all over the place: Twitter, Facebook, ‘the @’, or email.

It has been like forever since I did a vlog. I might just dust off my good ol’ point and shoot camera and record my answers in a live interview session. Would that be fun? You like videos right?

So go ahead. Please ask me anything!

Alternate title: The Labor of Relinquishment as Parents

She told me days before their arrival to Bolivia to serve a three year term as missionaries, “We are pregnant!” I had a hunch. So these months as her belly grew so did our expectations. Their baby room closet filled with pink things, soft and sweet smelling.

Then just weeks before the birth of their daughter a surprise came to our lives. She would come to be known as Jolee. Once a scrawny scrapping infant fighting to live on a doorstep now a plump and doted upon big sister cuddled every day. A most beautiful family has been born.

As they cared for the one we still waited for the little girl all curled up comfy in her mommy’s tummy. Graciously these brave parents gave me permission to attend the birth.

Finally, the day arrived. Plans set in motion as we all headed to the clinic. My mind flashed back to the birth of my own son in the same place some four years ago. Antiquated though it was these halls held hope. What an honor to introduce my friends to this inexplicable experience of labor and delivery.

The afternoon and evening of Saturday, March 26 was passed with contractions. As the night fell we all wondered if this child would come exactly one month after the birth date daddy had given some days ago to his eldest daughter: February 26, 2011.

They told us it was time to move downstairs. The minutes turned into an hour as this new mama pushed. Old fashioned aid was given as the anesthesiologist climbed on the slender table and planted his knees next to the laboring woman’s shoulders. He placed his hands on the bulge. At the next contracting of muscles they all pushed together.

Daddy and I were made to stand at the open door a few feet away from the action. We spoke out encouraging words, “You can do it. You’re doing great! Keep up the good work!”

The doctor motioned for us to come in, he could see the head. We rushed to the side of our dears. How odd the birth that hurts so much as we push our babies out of us. This pushing begins the lifelong painful push to relinquish our children to the world.  Instinct bonds us tighter than superglue. Instinct also tells us teach, prepare and train this being to live a life away from us.

Just minutes before the stroke of midnight beautiful Jalynne Miranda Gore was born to this earth. The doctor made quick work of untying the cord that had wrapped itself tight twice around the little neck of this new girl. Breath filled her lungs and her first cry brought relieved sighs and smiles throughout the room.

The first words of this mommy after releasing her child from her body, “I miss her.” Then she saw her daughter and made the observation before laying her head back to rest after such work, “She has eyebrows!”

Oh yes, the child has eyebrows, and ten tiny toes, and ten large fingers. And she is strong! The pediatrician had to replace the little oxygen mask three times because little miss flailed her arms around and yanked it off with one arm while grabbing other instruments with the other.

As the custom goes she gets a quick rub down with a blanket, diapered and then is bundled up in many layers and handed back to mama. She will get her first bath late in the next day.

We return to the laboring room with the precious girl. She suckles as the parents adore her. A quick visit with a doctor who looks as though he just won the world cup, so happy! Then I slip out and drive home in the twilight hours. I fall asleep so tired yet with the same smile I have had all night, fully aware and overwhelmingly grateful that I was a part of a miracle.

The next day I returned to pick up the threesome and bring them home. Later the sisters would meet. Here are some pictures of this blessed event. I love it!