Like everything?

By this time next month:

• the church will be in a new location.
• the ministry office will be in a new location.
• the orphanage will have a new rental house.
• the Washington’s will have a new rental house.

By the mid-year the bowling alley will be in a new location.

The only thing not moving? The school. We are fighting tooth and nail (whatever that means) for the land where the school is so it can stay put.

Moving our family excites me most. Perks:

• Three stories
• A bit of an outdoors with a little grass
• A half a block from a HUGE park
• A block and a half from a main street

A rough sketch of the floor plan:

Oh, yes, and to finish this post I wanted to share with you a verse from the New Living Translation version of the Bible found in Isaiah 54:2 which applies to our situation.

“Enlarge your house; build an addition.
      Spread out your home, and spare no expense!”

Isn’t that a refreshing look at the old verse about lengthening cords and strengthening stakes? Yes!

A few months ago a member of our church told me she had an idea of a way to honor us for ten years of service in Bolivia. She had rallied some other people from church to help her with this idea. They wanted to bring DaRonn’s mom down for a visit. She had never been to Bolivia before. This member of the church said that she wanted DaRonn’s mom to see all we had accomplished and be proud of her son. I told them this was a great idea.

For the following weeks we communicated across the continents to prepare: the tickets, the time off work, the passport, the visa, and the vaccination. Finally she came! We had a wonderful week with Grandma Charlie in town.

On her final day in the city of Cochabamba we observed Pedestrian Day, during which use of motor vehicles is prohibited. After the church service we had a nice little walk together. Back at home we made fun photos for posterity.

We are so very grateful for this amazing gift given to us by the church body here at Iglesia Cristo Nación. ¡Los cristonacioneros son lo máximo!

Enjoy some pictures from our final day together.

"Aragatza" best ice-cream in town and it's sold from the side of a truck

Gabrielle wanted to bring our poodle Shep along for the walk (photo by Raimy O.)

Another photo by Raimy O. of Timothy

DVD sales in front of our gate. That's our ministry's sign. DaRonn and his mom share a love of movies.

The blue graffiti says "Rechaza el Engaño" which means: Resist Deception

Our neighbor in the market. She sits here every day.

The Washington family with Grandma Charlie

Mother and Son

Sunday’s a day of hope. It’s the day we remember the very first resurrection Sunday when Christ conquered death, hell and the grave opening a way of salvation to all who would believe on Him. What better day to look ahead at the coming years and bear my soul of some of the hopes I have?

I hope…

10. …we can get the Dreamers into a permanent home with a big yard they can call their own for years to come.

9. …we can get a home with a big yard and guest quarters for the Washington family that we can call our own.

8. …we can help the church purchase or build an excellent facility.

7. …I can get a book published, in English. (more than one would be great too…)

6. …we can help our two youngest kids become bilingual in speaking, reading and writing.

5. …we can do some big time traveling with our kids.

4. …we can solidify and grow the mechanisms we have began to provide for us when we get old.

3. … we can get our kids started out well on their adult lives.

2. … we can establish and implement a working plan for helping launch the Lifetime Dreamers into adulthood.

1. … we can stay focused, strong, and impassioned about knowing God and doing His work.

*** Next and final list in this 10 Lists series: 10 Scariest Things About Missions  [Because it is Halloween... scary... get it?] ***

“You’re distinct!” she said as I walked through the doors of Divas Beauty Center. The owner, a proud Paceña, regularly attends to my moderate primping and preening. This exclamation was meant to express that she noticed something different about me. Maybe it was because it was morning this time; usually I come haggard at the end of the day with one of my friends; the only time us mommies have the same moment free after the kids are in bed. Maybe it was the fact I was by myself for a change. Maybe it was the skirt. We determined it was because my hair, usually found tied up in a scraggly pony tail, was hanging loosely at my shoulders and notably longer because I am letting it grow out.

She ushered me in with the customary kiss on the cheek greeting and began the ritual. She opened the conversation by telling me she found out we had a school.

“There is much you don’t know of me,” I said with a twinkle in my eye. She took the bait and asked me to tell her more. The conversation drifted between school stuff, church things, orphanage talk and parenting. Being the only two in the shop at the time allowed some freedom not normally enjoyed in this slowly blossoming friendship. The questions became deeper and the information shared more close to the heart than ever before.

“So what’s the difference? Like, between Catholics, because I am Catholic by birth, but I don’t mean that Catholic, like, the Catholic church and… whatever it is you are?” She seemed to spit out the words with failed precaution in an apologetic tone. I laughed. Not at her, but at the fact that she asked the same question I have heard dozens of times before. After affirming the validity of the question I stepped in with a disarming example.

“You know, the way I like to look at it is like flavors. There’s chocolate chip, vanilla, strawberry and they are all these different flavors but it’s all yummy ice-cream.” This time she was the one who got to laugh. I went on touching lightly on some differences she might identify with.

“So what would you say is the most odd religion you know of?” She seemed to be more jovial now. I remembered she mentioned some monthly meetings she attended that some people in my circles might turn their noses up at. I saw the defensive response waiting behind the friendly smile.

“For me it gets back to hope. I couldn’t imagine being involved in a religion that provided no hope and removed me from the decision of my destiny. I love that I can have a direct relationship with my Creator, with Jesus Christ.”

“So where is your church?”

I gave her the address and the service times. We talked of other things like husbands, the States, jobs, kids, and beauty tips, of course. As I leaned in to give her a kiss good-bye she repeated the address of the church once again and told me she would like to come in the evening. I hope she does.

Beyond that hope I hope she meets The Hope. I pray she meets Hope in all His beautiful perfection.

Now on with the crunchy, munchy, mixed-up life I lead…

• Pomegranate season has begun! For the the next four to six weeks my fingers will be tainted purple. Yum!
• Third week of the 2011 school year started yesterday.
• Due to strikes in the city two days of school were canceled last week.
• The city is also gearing up for the yearly week long festival called ‘Carnaval’.
• After Carnaval comes the birthday of my eldest. We will be parents of a teenager!
• After that momentous occasion our interns will have their baby.
• I’ve got babies and birthdays on the brain since the 27th of this month marks 9 months since we brought Kaitlynn home. Need to journal my thoughts about the significance of that date.
• Do you read the blog we do for the orphanage? Three times a week we have stories going up about The House of Dreams. Here’s the link: http://houseofdreamsorphanage.wordpress.com/
• Last night I taught a group of people how to eat sushi.
• I keep replaying in my mind a sentence that my husband said to me yesterday that made me feel so very loved.

(Lyrics. Song by Eric Stark; if I am not mistaken.)

Jesus and the woman at the well

Questions were asked and her past He did tell

Then the woman said, “Please could you make it plain,

Where should we worship?” and Jesus explained

The hour is coming and now is

When all those who worship the Father

Will worship in spirit and truth

The Father is searching for these

Here I am

Search Lord and find this one worshiping you

In spirit and truth

Lord, Lord, let your eyes fall on me

As I worship you

Lord, let the world’s eyes  see

This one Lord who knows

This one Lord who shows you

A heart devoted to you.

Lord, here I am.

—————————————-

I cannot express to you what an honor it is to be a teacher at our church: Iglesia Cristo Nacion. There are certain activities in my life that thrill me and make me feel more alive than anything. Teaching is one of those things. Tomorrow morning I will be adding to our current theme to Make Famous the Name of Jesus as I speak of the encounter at the well told in John chapter four. The message is called “A Weary Man and a Disdained Woman”. It’s going to be so good.

The song lyrics above have been pulsing through my heart as I have been preparing for the message. I pray that the people at church tomorrow will connect with the passion that the woman at the well demonstrates. I pray that they catch on to the truth that they are qualified to make a difference just the way they are. I pray that they would draw people to Jesus just being who they know to be.

This picture leaves me speechless every time I see it. I snapped the shot when I was coming in to church on Sunday. These lovely ladies are Dreamers at the House of Dreams. They all got new hair pretties and were happy to show me. You can click on it to see the original sized version.

When asked as a child what I wanted to be when I grew up my response was one of two things: famous or a farmers wife. Sometimes I threw both of them in to see the people’s response.  Yes, I wanted to be famous. I remember the day that acting fame, my most desired of all kinds of fame, slipped away and lay dying on the floor of my high school auditorium.

He was a kook. The drama teacher always directed the plays. Our theater was state of the art. Traveling acting troupes would use the stage. The city boasted of the wonders of this renovation. Naturally the man took all things performance very seriously. The scenes he made when he got flustered at our mediocrity in class and stormed out of the room were fit for any high-school comedy movie. You just never knew what to expect.

Auditions had been held for the next production. There were usually two or three major ones throughout the year. The cast list had not yet been posted. Rumors were flying about who we thought would get the parts. A handful of talented students usually got the leads. I hung out with them, but always held a fringe position in the clique. After drama class one afternoon the teacher pulled me aside. I did not expect what he asked of me.

“I want you to show me two different voices,” was the request.

“Like two accents? Or two different ways to say the same thing?” I sought clarification.

“Two distinct characters with two different voices,” he said.

I froze. Worrying I would disappoint paralyzed me. Stutters and false starts made my heart race. Finally I gave up.

“I can’t do it,” I said. The look on his face was smug to my nervous eyes. Without another word we parted ways.

For the rest of the day I beat myself silly because I couldn’t get my act together. It would not be until practices started that I would understand the gravity of my crumbling that day.

The cast list was posted and all the regular players were on the top. The date practices would start was followed by an invitation to any and all who would like to be part of the crew. As had been the case in all previous performances (except one when I danced in the Wizard of Oz at the back corner of the stage for less than five minutes) I helped with the crew. Once again I was the prop girl.

Still, I got to be at most of the practices. I loved it! Being there was so much fun. I watched them run lines and learn how to put on a good show. One certain scene shed light on the interaction I had with my teacher. He stood with one of the lead actresses and told her that she needed to make each character distinct. Her role was that of a spy who was disguised in order to solve a murder case. So she had to play both parts. That was the role the teacher was trying to see if I could do. I knew right then that I had blown it.

At the end of my senior year we had a mini-oscars amongst those in the drama circle. I was awarded ‘Best Proppie Ever’. All my hours of scouring mildewy thrift shops for the best period furniture at a cheap price had paid off. All my running around town to the flee markets for multiple sets of china to be crashed and broken each night of the show had not been for naught. Finding the perfect pipe tucked away in the corner of an antique shop was worth it.

For years that regret of a missed opportunity hung over my head. I am over it now. It wasn’t meant to be.

Funny thing, though, once a proppie, always a proppie. Who knew that as a pastor’s wife my prop girl skills would be called upon? My husband and I spent this last week putting together a new stage for church. It was fun. We got to collaborate in the painting, design, and creation. We are pretty happy with the results. This was the third one this year. So far we have done: a construction zone, a bank and now a living room / coffee shop set. This series will last twelve more weeks and we have already started to think about our next set design.

To be clear, DaRonn’s degree in marketing has been helpful in this design endeavor as well.  I would be remiss in leading you to believe that this was all my doing. It really is a joint effort.

(The images can be seen larger by clicking on them.)

A couple rules about election days here in Boliva:

• It is prohibited to organize an assembling of more than 10 people on election day.
• Use of motor vehicles is restricted to emergency aid only.
• Elections cannot be held on a work day.

Whereas elections used to occupy a space in the work week, for reasons of the economy they are now held on Sundays. It has been this way for a number of years now. In the past as a church we have worked around these obstacles in creative ways. Church the night before is one tactic. Opening the doors of the church for peopel to come and pray as they like; a sort of open house method. We have even done a night service after 7 pm when the restrictions are lifted.

The next elections are for mayors, or govenors, or something along those lines. The date had been set. Then it was moved up a few weeks earlier. They have scheduled the elections on Easter morning. It irks me.

I don’t yet know if the Catholic church is doing someting to have this changed. I don’t know that the association of Evangelical churches is doing something either. I do know we can pray. Would you pray with me that the date of the elections would be moved? There is still plenty of time for a change to take place. Would you pray that the church in Bolivia would move in wisdom and favor in this situation? Thank you for helping us out with your prayers.

Last Friday night DaRonn picked up Bill Hybels from the airport here in Cochabamba, Bolivia. He is on a 12 countries in 12 days tour. When he came in he was relieved that he was going to have an evening without a meeting so he could relax. Drinks were suggested so my husband took them down the street from the hotel to a fun restaurant. They had a nice time talking. (I was very bummed that I was laid up in bed with tummy crumminess. I got over it by the next morning.)

For the Saturday morning session we had invited 150 pastors to participate in a Q and A with Mr. Hybels. The format promoted thinking beyond quantity and into quality in our churches. The pastors had some great questions about strategy and concepts.

Personally, I was challenged by the four levels of leadership he taught. The one we are most familiar with is a downward directed leader from superior to subordinate. The second type is lateral influence that we have with our peers or people with the same level of authority. The third is called leading up for times when we are accountable to a board yet still have a degree of leadership in the scenario. Finally, there is self leadership. It was so good to hear that. Taking responsibility is key. We can not shift blame on the shortcomings of others for mistakes that must be attributed to faulty personal leadership. He encouraged us as pastors and leaders to lead ourselves well.

A lunch with key leaders from around Bolivia followed. We had the director from Compassion. Willow Creek’s representative from Brazil was there. The director for the Baptist social outreach program was at the table too. In all we were 13 influential people. It was my honor to be able to sit next to Mr. Hybels and be his earpiece and mouthpiece as I translated the back and forth of the conversation.

What struck me most was that even though he is an experienced and accomplished leader the air around him was completely unassuming and personable. At lunch he showed such a genuine interest in the people at the table by asking questions about the nation of Bolivia and then listening intently to the answers. He even drew a map and asked about key cities and population. His motives were obviously sincere and helpful.

After lunch as the team was loading up in the truck so that DaRonn could take them to the airport Bill said that he would like to come back so that he could spend some time to get to know the city. I truly hope that he is able to do just that.