tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3142268612128062512024-03-05T08:11:50.600-06:00Life in La FeI invite you to experience Honduras - through the eyes of a missionary.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-6072695324180778272017-08-29T15:27:00.000-06:002017-08-29T15:27:41.737-06:005W + H
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">The first English classes I teach usually start with the 5W + H: Who, What, Where, When, Why and How. It gives me a good gauge of my student’s English level and gaps in their previous English classes.</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">It’s also a great way to get to know my students - Who is your husband? What is your favorite color? Where do you live? When is your birthday? Why do you want to speak English? How old are you?</span></span></div>
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<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">The back and forth allows forming of questions and answers, students asking one another questions, and diminishes the teacher/student barrier. Combine that with a pot of piping hot locally-grown <a href="https://tazazulcoffee.com/" target="_blank">Tazazul</a> Coffee and homemade muffins, and you get ladies Wednesday night English class.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">Granted, all the English classes I get to be part of don't include food goodies but it's always a joy to spend time with Raul and Alma (see the picture) and Ventura when we learn together each week. Learning English gives each of them the opportunity to grow in relationships with our friends, families, churches and supporters in the States as well as flex their own personal education and expand their possibilities for the future!</span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-81644348744707101322014-04-10T13:05:00.000-06:002014-04-10T13:05:29.263-06:00Who Gets the Grease?<div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last night we said <span style="font-size: large;">goodbye</span> to my parents... <span style="font-size: xx-small;">the hugs with "see you in a year or so"</span>. My parents have spent the past week or so in Phoenix, AZ with the primary reason of spending <span style="font-size: large;">quality time </span>with Mike and me... before we return to Honduras. Problem is, we don't know <span style="font-size: large;">when</span> we are returning to Honduras.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We have been approved as long-term (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">career</span>) missionaries with Mission to the World.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(<span style="font-size: xx-small;">even though we are a little </span><span style="font-size: large;">crazy</span>!)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We have attended all the necessary trainings. (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">my </span><span style="font-size: large;">bum print</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> in many a chair</span>)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We have been in contact with our supporters. (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">friends and family </span><span style="font-size: large;">fun</span>!)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We FEEL more than ready to return home... (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">home, </span><span style="font-size: large;">home</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">, home</span>...)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">But... we can't return yet. (</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">Is the word "</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">stuck</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">" appropriate here</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">?)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">~~~~~~~~~~~~</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">We originally went to Honduras as short-term (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">2-3 years</span>) missionaries which meant that we did <span style="font-size: large;">not</span> receive retirement, some insurance benefits, or a full salary (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">among other things</span>)... Now that we are career missionaries, we receive those benefits! (<span style="font-size: large;">WOOT</span> <span style="font-size: xx-small;">WOOT</span>!) So... we <span style="font-size: large;">get</span> to pursue more relationships and <span style="font-size: large;">invite</span> others to give financially.</span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Not sure </span>why we raise support<span style="font-size: xx-small;">?? Watch this 2-minute video.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"><b><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OoABUs2N40">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7OoABUs2N40</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The short answer: </span><span style="font-size: large;">Because God says to</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">We long to return to </span>Honduras by <span style="font-size: x-large;">May 9</span>. Why?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My </span><span style="font-size: large;">daughter</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">, Dixi, is in Honduras.</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qxrvyewygs/U0bgRno1sJI/AAAAAAAAAz0/XKA9Lf7ufAE/s1600/10170837_10100662609916488_236570007_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7qxrvyewygs/U0bgRno1sJI/AAAAAAAAAz0/XKA9Lf7ufAE/s1600/10170837_10100662609916488_236570007_n.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">The </span><span style="font-size: large;">contract</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> on our house </span><span style="font-size: large;">ends</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> June 18 and we have to find a </span>new home<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> before then and move and...</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YkDaCzJwLyk/U0bghoWOWQI/AAAAAAAAAz8/6kC9vvnzrZI/s1600/398748_263530460380093_451436887_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-YkDaCzJwLyk/U0bghoWOWQI/AAAAAAAAAz8/6kC9vvnzrZI/s1600/398748_263530460380093_451436887_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;">My </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">best friends</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> are in Honduras.</span></div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vWJNk5K2n1c/U0bg_UnMzlI/AAAAAAAAA0E/opAIED0QoKA/s1600/1489262_10103263199513911_1464855435_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vWJNk5K2n1c/U0bg_UnMzlI/AAAAAAAAA0E/opAIED0QoKA/s1600/1489262_10103263199513911_1464855435_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;">My </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">family</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> is in Honduras.</span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E2OGTK592Xo/U0bhNwbQhzI/AAAAAAAAA0M/Cbq8gDKace8/s1600/DSC_1128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-E2OGTK592Xo/U0bhNwbQhzI/AAAAAAAAA0M/Cbq8gDKace8/s1600/DSC_1128.jpg" height="422" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">God</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> is </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">working</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> in Honduras...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;">I have been </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">designed</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> and </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">equipped</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> to serve the people of Honduras </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">with</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> my </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">husband</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;">.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Home</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(<span style="font-size: xx-small;">on earth</span>)<span style="font-size: x-large;"> = </span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: x-large;">Honduras</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Therefore, I become a <span style="font-size: large;">squeaky wheel</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">We </span><span style="font-size: large;">can't return</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> to Honduras until we have an additional </span><span style="font-size: large;">$1,800 a month</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">committed by </span><span style="font-size: large;">you</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> (and others like you).</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Are you already supporting us? (<span style="font-size: x-large;">thank you</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;">!! and can you give </span><span style="font-size: large;">more</span>?)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Think you can't support us? (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">we have supporters who give </span><span style="font-size: large;">$5</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> a month, and some who give </span><span style="font-size: large;">$300</span><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> a month</span>)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Know someone who could give? (</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;">rich aunt or </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">friend</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;"> who loves Jesus</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">)</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Have more than you need? (</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">sell</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: xx-small;"> something, transfer funds... get </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: large;">creative</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I can say with <span style="font-size: large;">certainty</span> that God <span style="font-size: large;">will</span> provide for us <span style="font-size: large;">when</span> He wants to, <span style="font-size: large;">how</span> He wants to, <span style="font-size: xx-small;">through whomever He wants to</span>... even through <span style="font-size: large;">you</span>, right <span style="font-size: large;">now</span>...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Consider</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> it. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Pray</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small;"> about it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>I am a <span style="font-size: large;">squeaky wheel</span>... and the squeaky wheel gets the <span style="font-size: large;">grease</span>.</b></span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To give <span style="font-size: large;">online </span>(<span style="font-size: xx-small;">credit/debit</span>), click <a href="https://donations.mtw.org/donate/default.aspx" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">here</span></a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To give through <span style="font-size: large;">EFT</span> (<span style="font-size: xx-small;">bank account</span>), print <a href="http://www.troxellmissionaries.com/uploads/3/6/9/0/3690607/online_giving.doc" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">this</span></a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Have <span style="font-size: large;">questions</span>, <a href="http://www.troxellmissionaries.com/">www.troxellmissionaries.com</a>, <a href="mailto:michael.a.troxell@gmail.com">michael.a.troxell@gmail.com</a>, (602)464-4531</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-91183433256235397292014-02-01T10:35:00.001-06:002014-02-01T10:35:24.245-06:00Life in Luggage (moving 17 times in just over 2 months)<br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;">Mike and I made the decision to transition between my parents and his parents every 4-10 days during our time in PA. That's two months of back and forth. Now we are in Atlanta for 7 days. That means that in the past 72 days, we have moved 17 times. Let me reiterate - Mike and I CHOSE this. Do not feel sorry for us - it is what we expected... and it is typical for many missionaries when they are in the States on furlough (or HMA).</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">Choosing to switch homes so often means that we didn't wear out our welcome in any one home (very important). I am happy to say that I still love and want to spend time with my mother - and Mike's too! That's a big deal. What's not so much fun is living out of suitcases.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhO86DcWoPZ1m9Lc1rEZDic_7RsyTXN2uHQ7Bs3USEZllC6fY_N2GjAUuAUTXD4wm-nAgclJo3klshAqEFXLkEEkklg5Q29F3IDb0lkQTRmukg4GcIgpz5WPeoOcpvVkB-z1aDOsAkmdAW/s1600/travel+packing+Travel+Packing++8+Tips+For+Packing+&+Traveling+Lite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhO86DcWoPZ1m9Lc1rEZDic_7RsyTXN2uHQ7Bs3USEZllC6fY_N2GjAUuAUTXD4wm-nAgclJo3klshAqEFXLkEEkklg5Q29F3IDb0lkQTRmukg4GcIgpz5WPeoOcpvVkB-z1aDOsAkmdAW/s200/travel+packing+Travel+Packing++8+Tips+For+Packing+&+Traveling+Lite.jpg" width="200" /></a>Think about your travels... can you relate? Have you experienced something similar? Tell me about it! I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I'd love to hear your experience.<br />
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<span style="color: orange;"><b>Now, on the bright side, we are flying to Michigan on Monday at which time we will be settled into our own 1-bedroom apartment and will not move from it for a full 3 weeks! This is exciting for us and we are looking forward to storing our clothes in a dresser and our toiletries in a drawer. Our suitcases could use a break. :)</b></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-23030817064765732222014-01-25T15:49:00.000-06:002014-01-25T15:54:04.389-06:00Snow in PA (pics)<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span id="goog_612818112"></span><span id="goog_612818113"></span>We have spent the last 2 months in Pennsylvania.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Here are some of my more artsy photos of the area for your enjoyment.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>This Sunday evening we will be flying to Atlanta, GA so I'll be in touch from there.</b></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-67176250008009604642014-01-21T10:01:00.001-06:002014-01-21T10:01:32.865-06:00Shivers, Snow and other S Words<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 15pt;">It's
Snowing!</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">The news
says the winter storm is on the way.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">The world
holds its breath in anticipation.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Schools
begin closing early.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">The snow
plows sit idling on the freeways.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">For me, I
find a fleece blanket to wrap up in, a mug of something hot and delicious, and
let my mind wander as I wait... for what? Snow.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Does snow
change my plans? No.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Does it
impact my day? No.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Yet I sit
and gaze out of the window.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Dixi has never seen snow.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">She waits for me</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">in tropical 72 degrees.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">I send her pictures of snow.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">She can't understand water, in its solid form,
falling from a white sky.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Dixi knows that the Bible says:</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #363030; font-family: Courier New; font-size: medium;">"Come now, let us reason together, says and Lord:</span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b style="line-height: 16.5pt; text-indent: -42pt;"><span style="color: #363030; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">though your sins are like scarlet,</span></b></div>
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<b style="line-height: 16.5pt; text-indent: -48pt;"><span style="color: #363030; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 15.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">they shall be as white as snow;</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 16.5pt; text-indent: -42pt;">though they are red like crimson,</span></div>
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<span style="color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 16.5pt; text-indent: -48pt;">they shall become like wool.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 16.5pt; text-indent: -48pt;">(Isaiah 1:18, ESV)</span></div>
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<span style="border: none windowtext 1.0pt; color: #363030; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-border-alt: none windowtext 0in; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; padding: 0in;"><br />
<br />
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<!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So I send her pictures of snow.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Drifting, flaking, sighing, swaying in the breeze.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Snow in Pennsylvania. I shiver.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It's been two months now in this snowy state.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some of our time was spent </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">watching buggies pass</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">horses' breath puffing with each step.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hugs and a squeeze of "see ya later" and the buggies are an hour
away.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Now Sitting in a bright room, windows all around... watching
the snow.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">People who love me surround me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;">Family - in one way or
another.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">A nervous glance out the window - probably should go.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">roads may be bad...</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">it's snowing.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Another pair of warm socks. 23 degrees. Offices closing up
early.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">The ground is a dull gray - yellow grass peeking through.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Christmas Snow'; font-size: 13.5pt;">the hum of the heater, ticking of the clock, creak of the
house...</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Christmas Snow"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">the fireplace giving warmth – even to my cold toes.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: #363030; font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 13.5pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My thoughts drift to home.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">La Fe.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Friends... no, family.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Tropical sunshine.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Oppressive humidity.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #363030; font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Green, lush, growing,
life-giving, fruit-bearing...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Home.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">Soon – not soon enough.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqFMAGNHEWE/Ut6Zo4aBaBI/AAAAAAAAAu8/C-xrJ0WHdxU/s1600/IMG_1765_edited.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bqFMAGNHEWE/Ut6Zo4aBaBI/AAAAAAAAAu8/C-xrJ0WHdxU/s1600/IMG_1765_edited.jpg" height="320" width="285" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 13.5pt;">For now, family, friends, sharing, travel…</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: 'Christmas Snow';">snow</span><span style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif;">.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-14732028832568244232013-08-28T18:56:00.003-06:002013-08-28T18:56:45.053-06:00Delicious Ambiguity<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next.</span></b></div>
<div style="font-weight: bold; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Delicious Ambiguity.” </span></b></div>
<div style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px; text-align: right;">
<b>― <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/145047.Gilda_Radner" style="color: #666600; text-decoration: none;">Gilda Radner</a></b></div>
<div style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 18px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
When teams come to serve alongside us during the summer months, I have the honor of doing the briefing - 45 minutes of do's and don'ts that end in a review and "Have a great week!" One of the main points that I always drive home is "BE FLEXIBLE! Things change, get over it." Though I preach this every week, I have the most difficulty applying it myself. This week has been the most challenging of them yet.</div>
<div style="color: #181818; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Life is such a short, delicate thing; strong, solid and passionate one minute, whisked away in a breeze the next. I would like to tell you the story of Rikelme and his mom, Aida... but let me back up. This story starts a year ago - when Aida had two healthy boys.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Wilmer and Aida loved Jesus very much, loved each other very much, and loved their children very much. They lived with Aida's mom and other siblings in a small home in La Fe - but they had their own room, a small crib, and I heard singing and music coming from their home often.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Then, without warning, Aida's two year old son got sick - gravely ill. By the time that they gathered up the $2.50 to go to the emergency room, he was gone. Aida's heart broke. She clung to her husband and her son, Rikelme, and wept. She mourned the loss of her baby boy. Wilmer decided to comfort his wife by suggesting they have another baby.</span></b></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">9 months later, baby Ruth made her appearance. Full of giggles, laughter, bubbles and chubby legs, Ruth brightened Aida's heart and her eyes shown with happiness.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Then, in May, the wave rolled in once again - Wilmer left for work in a neighboring town - riding his bike as usual. He never returned. He had been killed while working that day - she has to collect the body... his family needs to be notified... she has to go to the funeral... She scooped up her sweet Ruth and left to face days of mourning and sadness.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">During this time, I have come to know her and love her - her mom, her siblings, her children. Rikelme, now 4, is one of the most imaginative, creative, attentive, respectful, smiley kiddos I have ever met - and being a teacher, I have met quite a few. He loves to learn - to play - to explore...</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">In June, Rikelme began to have a horrible fever that he just couldn't shake. We made sure Aida had meds to bring down his fever, some antibiotics to get at the sickness, and plenty of healthy advice such as "lots of water", "no playing outside", "bathe to bring the fever down"... I'd walk by several times a week, just to check on him and see how he was doing.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">About a month later, Mike got a phone call from Aida - she needs to take Rikelme to the hospital... NOW. It was 8 in the evening and we were not available to give them a ride so we encouraged her to take a taxi. The next day, I went to pick them up from the hospital. Rikelme was all smiles - enjoying some orange juice. Aida gave me the information the doctors were requesting: an ultrasound, blood tests, urine analysis... They don't do those particular tests in the hospital here - you have to go to a private medical center to get it done... and pay - sometimes a lot.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Rather than just going to get the tests done, I suggested that we go visit Tree of Life clinic out in Armenia Bonito where Dr. Roger works. He would have Rikelme's medical history and see Rikelme as a person rather than just a number. After a short visit, some meds, and more advice, Rikelme returned home.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I spent several days keeping an eye on him - making sure he was looking better and doing well. After 4 days of him improving and playing outside, I figured we were in the clear... And then the wave hit.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">On Saturday, Lyssa told me that Rikelme does not look good at all and that his fever is back. On Sunday, I longed to go visit him but couldn't - we had clinic the next day in La Fe anyway. On Monday, Dr. Roger said to take him to get blood tests done. At 2 o'clock, Aida, Ruth, Rikelme and Sandy (a week-long summer missionary) jumped in the car with me and we headed to a private hospital to get the blood tests done. Rikelme was burning up - his eyes glazed. He refused water or juice. He refused food. He refused meds.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">At 6 PM, I picked up the results of the exam and read them to Dr. Roger over the phone. In our conversation, I heard, "It could be this, or it could be that... but it really looks to me like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leukemia" target="_blank">leukemia</a>.</span></b></span><b style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">" Leukemia. Cancer. Rikelme probably has cancer.</span></b></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Do I call his mom? Do I tell Mike now? Do I make this public knowledge? I called Mike - he told Lyssa who told Shannon... the team knows. My heart pounding... what do I tell his mom...? Do I tell her or let the doctors?</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">In a state of shock I sit on the couch. Lyssa walks in at some point. She's crying. Am I crying? I try to look fine. Rikelme. Aida. I smile at Dixi, at Lyssa, pat her hand.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">It's Tuesday morning - I've barely slept. My eyes are red and vision is blurry. Can I stay in bed? Do I have to go out today? Yes, I must. Aida. Rikelme. Everyone is getting ready for our kids events today. I'm in charge. I run the kids events in La Fe. Be in charge, Ashley. Rikelme.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Mike says to go talk with Aida. Aida. My feet are lead. I think someone just said good morning to me. Little hands in mine as I walk through La Fe. Someone else waves. I think I smile... maybe not. Aida's house. The front door. Walk in. Good mornings. Aida is sleeping still. Rikelme beside her. Touch her back, say her name. She wakes. I'm not crying, right? Good. No need for her to fear. Rikelme doesn't move.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">We move outside - the sun is very hot on my neck. We sit and I show her the blood results. Her siblings are listening. It doesn't look good. We need more information. Let's head to the hospital. She packs. Ruth will stay with the family. She sniffs as she packs. I breathe deeply trying to keep the blood from pooling in my feet and the tears at bay.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">We arrive at the hospital - 8:30 AM - we have to park outside the fenced area. Heather (week-long summer missionary) carries Rikelme inside. We sit and I take him on my lap. He's burning my skin as he rests his head against my chest. Aida goes to pay the fee for him to be seen. I cry when she isn't looking. The woman next to me sits down - her baby has a rash. The preclinic nurse puts a thermometer under the baby's arm. Can I have one to check Rikelme's temperature? The nurse lifts his arm to put the thermometer under. Her eyes shift to mine - she sees the tears. She speaks to the other nurse - "He needs to take a cold bath." She leads us away from Aida. Away from the crying and sick children, through the emergency room to a long, white, trash-littered hallway. She opens a closet.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">In the closet is a hose coming out of the wall. No light. Cement floor and walls. "Bath him," she says. "I'll be back."</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I squat with Rikelme on my knee - his head falling to his chest. Tucking in my skirt, I begin removing his clothes - his skin burns. I tell him to stand. He can't. Cradled in my arms I step in the dark closet and turn on the water. His eyes open a crack. When the water touches his skin, he moans and begins to cry.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">Put the water on his head - on his shoulders - on his neck - under his arms. He screams. He calls for his mom. I sing to him. He clings to me. We are wet. He is shivering. I am crying. I dry him with my skirt. Put his clothes back on him. Am I still singing? He's back in my arms. His ears are cold. His neck is still hot.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I carry him back out to the waiting room. I am wet. Aida is still in line to pay. We sit. Aida sits next to Heather. We wait. Rikelme moans. Oh, my heart. Don't cry, Ashley. Be strong for Aida. Aida is crying. We wait. Heather leaves. I cradle Rikelme against me - humming. Lost.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>They call his name. I carry him in, lay him on the exam table. He doesn't wake. The woman pokes and prods first his throat then his stomach... listens to his heart, his lungs... Looks at Aida. "This is all your fault, mom," she says. I gasp. "What?"</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>"You were here 15 days ago. We sent you out to get some test drawn and you never came back. That's why Rikelme is so bad now. You should have come back. It's your fault."</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>My heart sinks. That was me. I picked her up from the hospital that day. I encouraged her to talk to Dr. Roger first. Not Aida's fault. It's my fault. No, not my fault. No one's fault. No one's fault. I look at Aida. She's crying. Rikelme still hasn't woken. The woman does paperwork. We wait.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>While writing, she says, "You need to buy an IV, the bag of serum liquid stuff, and the tubs to hook it up." So, hospitals don't provide this. Aida has no money. I go to buy the supplies. My heart is so heavy. I cry as I walk.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I leave the front doors of the hospital. There a little restaurant store - maybe I can buy it there. No. Try outside the front gate. I walk out the front gate. The guard whistles at me. Across the street is a wooden little stand with a woman smoking inside. There are coolers in front and condoms behind her on the wall. I give her the little list of things the woman said we needed.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">She holds her cigarette in her teeth as she reaches above her head and pulls the supplies out of a cardboard box. The liquid, the syringe, the tubs. I buy it and a small box of juice. Rikelme has had no liquids today.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">The woman grunts when I show her what I bought. Still she's doing paperwork - texting on her phone between sections on the paper. Aida is crying. I put my hand on her shoulder. The woman calls over a another woman in a doctor's coat - the doctor is chewing bubble gum and playing with her hair... and texting.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">She glances at the notes. "He needs a pint of blood." She looks at us. I look at her. "Well, go buy a pint of blood." Um, "Where?" I ask. She leads me through the hospital. Water trails down the walls. Huge gaps where tiles have been removed from the floor. Pipes above my head leaking down onto the ground. Blood trails... on the ground... Vomit in the corner...</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">We enter the blood lab. It smells of mold and sick. No fans. Halogen lights. Crying people. I swallow. The doctor points to the line - exasperated. "Thank you," I whisper. Waiting, again.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">My turn... I need a pint of blood. What type? Uh... I don't know. I go get Rikelme and Aida. We go back. They take Aida and Rikelme behind a door. I can hear Rikelme crying. When the door opens, both are crying. I hug them. Rikelme's flesh burns my skin.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I'm in line again. There's a broken mirror on the wall. I look terrible - like a ghost - eyes red-rimmed and lips tight from holding back the emotions and sick. Waiting. Request the pint. "Ok, but you have to pay for it before I can give it to you." The woman who is speaking to me has blood red lipstick on. Her watch says 1:25 - that can't be right.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;">I tell Aida to sit with Rikelme. I'm wandering back through the hospital to the waiting room - where you pay for things. Waiting in line to pay. Old woman with fake hair color, glasses sliding down her nose... I'm paying. "You have to donate too, you know." What? "You have to donate blood when you buy it. That's part of how you pay." Uh. Ok. I'll do that.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>The receipt in my hand, I make my way back to the Lab. Tears fall from Aida's eyes. Her hair is everywhere. I'm back in line. Red-lipstick lady takes the receipt and hands me a bag of blood. So glad I haven't had anything to eat yet today. Her watch says 2:15. We walk back.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>The door to the emergency room opens and we go in - "Sorry, no bed available. Go in the janitor's closet - there's a bed there." I carry Rikelme in. There's a hospital gown on the floor in the corner - I wipe off the baby changing table/bed and lay him on it. He moans but doesn't open his eyes. There was a stool next to the hose closet - it's still there when I go to get it. Aida sits next to Rikelme. I lean against the doorpost watching the emergency room.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>Nurses and doctors laughed and chatted. Children whimpered and moaned while mothers silently cried and whispered quietly into their cell phones. I praise the Lord for the broom closet and changing table where Rikelme lays; Aida's head resting on their clasped hands.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>In a rush, three nurses enter the room and ask for the IV supplies. I fish them out of my bag - all thumbs being pulled back from my silent reverie. They prepare Rikelme's vein and insert the IV - he cries out in surprise and pain. Aida moves to comfort him but the nurses push her away. He cries out yet again. Aida stifles her sobs in my shoulder and I wrap my arms around her - giving her all of the encouragement and love as I can muster. Tears spring into my eyes as she weeps. Rikelme continues to scream.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>Still, I cannot take my eyes from the nurses backs. They are chatting happily about what they are going to be doing this weekend and how one of them has a boyfriend who will be traveling next month. Rikelme continues to call for his mother.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>When they back up, I see that he now has an IV protruding from his right arm - a square of cardboard taped around it to keep him from bending his elbow. Aida rushes to him and comforts him - her tears falling unheeded onto his chest and face. I thank the nurses in a mumble while wiping my tears away. Rikelme stirs and returns to his feverish unconsciousness.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>We wait. Finally, a bed is available. I carry Rikelme over and place him on it. The nurses look at me and frown. "Only one person can stay with him." I squeeze Aida's arm and walk out to the waiting room... and wait...</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>The minutes drag by. After what feels like days, I peek into the emergency room to see what is going on with Rikelme and Aida. A pint of blood is now flowing into his veins. Aida is putting a wet, folded t-shirt onto his burning forehead. As I walk toward her, Aida stands and moves toward me. We hold each other - grieving and crying as one.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>After several moments, she pulls away - the hospital doesn't have what it needs to provide for Rikelme - they can't help. He needs to go to San Pedro Sula - 3 hours away - away from family, friends... me. Aida needs to go pack a bag. Will I stay with him? Of course.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>I stand beside Rikelme now, changing the wet cloth on his head. Each time the coolness touches his skin, he moans. I cry - openly now that Aida has left. His little fingers that so often hung onto my hand as I walked. His smile which always captured my heart. His imagination and love of playing. His simple faith in Jesus.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>The ambulance will be here in 2 hours. Aida returns. We wait. Lyssa arrives and my sobs are barely contained. We will stay with Aida until the ambulance leaves.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>A storm is raging outside - I can hear the rain hitting the roof, thunder rumbling. The ambulance arrives. We must carry Rikelme to the ambulance. He's on the stretcher now. My heart aches. Aida gets in. A sharp intake of breath and the door closes.</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>The sobs rake my body. The ambulance pulls out... Lyssa by my side. The rain is fitting for this night. My tears and raindrops glide down my face. Will I see him again? My voice mixes with my sobs, Lyssa's groans mix with mine in a chorus of surrender and prayer.</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px;"><b>This is where I will end this post. It leaves you hanging on Tuesday, August 20. Keep an eye out for updates on Rikelme and the next blog in the story.</b></span></span><br />
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</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-82915951508066135562013-05-20T23:03:00.000-06:002013-05-20T23:03:38.940-06:00Our Precious Dixi (we're "parents"!!)<div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It is with joyful and thankful hearts that we present to you, Dixi (9). Dixi moved in with us just today with her one small bag of clothes provided by Shannon, bag of small toys, and a huge smile. We are her "foster parents" for the next 6 months.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In it's most simplest form, Dixi's mom does not have the financial stability or parenting skills needed to care for her - that's where we come in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As many of you know, we do not have children of our own. Though we only have Dixi for 6 months (until mid to end of November), we are treating her as our own - loving her, counseling her, hugging her...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We know she is not our daughter. We know that will need to say goodbye at the end of 6 months, but we also know that God has given us a child who needs parents, needs Jesus, needs healthy food and a safe place to live. And to her, God has given... us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today was her first day in 3rd grade at a local private school. She loves to sing, dance, paint, draw, act... she's extremely imaginative and loves to learn.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you would like to know more about how God placed her in our lives, check out our teammate <a href="http://shannoninhonduras.blogspot.com/2013/05/rescue.html" target="_blank">Shannon's blog post</a>. We are so thankful to know that the Lord is providing for her and for us during this time.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-37807176789698402072013-04-25T18:54:00.003-06:002013-04-25T18:54:48.892-06:00Introducing Isaac<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Introducing, Isaac. </b></span></div>
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--rxtdeTNTYU/UXnOvFVW_PI/AAAAAAAAAqc/YRYGGH1lZl0/s1600/2013-04-25+11.52.05.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"></span></a><b style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--rxtdeTNTYU/UXnOvFVW_PI/AAAAAAAAAqc/YRYGGH1lZl0/s400/2013-04-25+11.52.05.jpg" width="400" /></b></div>
<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b> <span style="text-align: center;">Isaac lives with this mom, grandmother, brothers and uncles.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></b></span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>He can most often be spotted wearing a shirt, sandals and nothing else (due to his not being potty trained yet - why put something on if it's just gonna get dirty?</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Today I ate lunch beside the river with Isaac while his mom washed the laundry. We shared the bread from my sandwich.</b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>Please pray for Isaac as he comes often to our events with his big brothers. Pray for his mom and grandma as they are the ones who run the house. Love him. I sure do.</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-77800075181899542962013-04-03T15:38:00.000-06:002013-04-03T15:38:00.860-06:00His love endures forever.<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>His love endures forever... (Throughout Scripture - but especially in Psalm 136)</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In poverty.</i></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In sickness.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In loneliness.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In pain.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In abandonment.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>In sin.</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>His love endures forever!</i></b></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-39866830032323852662012-12-05T12:56:00.001-06:002012-12-05T12:57:01.394-06:00Biblical vs. Cultural vs. Lack of Education<span style="color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><u style="background-color: white;">Biblical vs. Cultural vs. Lack of Education</u></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Pregnant at 13 years old.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Marrying at 16 years old.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Living with your parents until they die or you get married.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Feeding your infant soda.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Leaving your 3 children under 5 years old home alone.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Taking blood pressure meds only when you "feel bad".</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Telling your child you will give them away if they misbehave.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Being a Christian means going to church.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">These are aspects of our ministry that we are presented with regularly. How do we respond?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When one of the girls (18 yrs) I mentor shares with me that she is pregnant and is pushing to have a rush wedding with her boyfriend before she starts to show... </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Rejoice or weep?</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When the 35 year old man is still living at home with his mother, isn't working, and doesn't help her financially... </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Ignore him? Chastise him? Tell him to get a life? Tell her to cut the cord?</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When the mother tells her child she will send them with me (Ashley) back to the United States if they don't do what they are supposed to... </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Be offended? Reject her friendship? Assume she's a bad mother? </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: orange; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">When "good" appearances and reputation are enforced rather than a relationship with the Lord. </span><span style="color: lime; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Argue? Start adjusting my appearance to fit their expectations? Do the opposite of following their "rules" and ignore their disapproval?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><b>“My own eyes are not enough for me;</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><b>I will see through those of others.”</b></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">― </span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1069006.C_S_Lewis" style="line-height: 18px; text-decoration: none;">C.S. Lewis</a></b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Please pray for me. That I will love - not with my own limited love, but the unconditional, unfathomable love of Jesus.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-33712197503597839732012-11-14T08:59:00.000-06:002012-11-14T08:59:48.000-06:00Rain, blankets, and dengue<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To begin this blog, you should know that we are doing very well. It is rainy season and the rivers are running swift and strong - I am wearing a sweatshirt, comfy socks, and am under a fleece blanket (although it's only 68 degrees). Our marriage is strong and growing - Mike truly is my best friend. We have had confirmation after confirmation that this (La Ceiba) is where we belong and have seen God work in miraculous ways every week of our time here. As a team, we are learning how to communicate clearly and speak each other's love languages without resentment. Friendships are blossoming with nationals - Heysol, 18, and I are especially good friends. Our best friends, the Cains, are less than a year away from joining us in La Ceiba. Our home is comfortable and safe. Our car is working well and hopefully can last a little longer with the current tires. We are supported and prayed for by our churches, families and friends in the States. We have a dog, Ritmo, who loves to curl up and spend time snuggling with me. Several weeks ago, we became residents of Honduras so we are not required to leave the country every 90 days to renew our VISA. My garden is green and growing. We are so thankful for all of these things!</span><div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Continuing this blog, there are some difficult things going on as well. As our relationships with nationals are growing, we are impacted deeply by the broken families that compose the majority of La Fe. The abandoned women, children, and families... Cases of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dengue_fever" target="_blank">dengue</a> are popping up everywhere. Our fridge beeps nonstop - annoying. The owner of our house is raising the rent price. We will be spending Thanksgiving and Christmas away from our families. My allergies are ridiculous right now. We are still not parents. For some reason, ants have begun to show their little selves more often in our home. We are so thankful for all of these things!</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>[4] For everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving, [5] for it is made holy by the word of God and prayer.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(1 Timothy 4:4-5 ESV)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">See that, "everything created by God". "Nothing is to be rejected." Ants, dengue, allergies, barrenness, beeping fridges - everything is to be received with THANKSGIVING.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><b>[17] I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving</b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and call on the name of the LORD.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Psalm 116:17 ESV)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, thanksgiving is a sacrifice. Thanksgiving isn't always easy or happy. It's something I must practice and it's not always fun.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>[6] do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Philippians 4:6 ESV)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That doesn't mean that I have to say thank you for ants, allergies, not having children, dengue and the deaths it can cause... but it does mean that I <i>look to see</i> God at work in and through them. I may not be able to see Him at work and that is where faith comes in.</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>[2] Continue steadfastly in prayer, being watchful in it with thanksgiving.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">(Colossians 4:2 ESV)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I must be watchful (look to see) with thanksgiving. Who am I to say God's purpose in closing my womb? What right do I have to question His choices and actions? If I am truly His, I am able to look at all things with thanksgiving - including the beeping fridge and ants.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Don't get me wrong, I do not walk around saying, "Thank you for that beep of the fridge, and that one too," but I must tell my heart to be thankful and practice it each moment.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-41321215431805908492012-08-10T15:30:00.000-06:002012-08-10T15:30:46.488-06:00English vs. Spanish<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">How do you have a relationship with someone who you can't talk to or understand? Do you try to talk louder? Clearer? What if you don't speak the same language...? Can you communicate? Can you have a relationship??</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Not one person in these photos can speak Spanish... well, the kids obviously... but none of the gringos. So you tell me...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.</span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: large;">(Philippians 2:2-4 ESV)</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-12641950549752448452012-07-19T20:20:00.001-06:002012-07-19T20:20:26.893-06:00There's Nothing I Can Do<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lPZOImnEFe0/UAi1onyk_lI/AAAAAAAAAjo/Yom0FMiyl3c/s1600/Covcom+Honduras120396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lPZOImnEFe0/UAi1onyk_lI/AAAAAAAAAjo/Yom0FMiyl3c/s200/Covcom+Honduras120396.jpg" width="200" /></a>La Fe is a difficult place to work. The teams this summer have really reminded me how challenging it can be to go from "real life" in the States or even another city in Honduras to this small, river-side community. The extreme poverty, lack of education, and hunger in La Fe are just a few of the many difficulties I see and carry with me every day.<br />
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One of the things that I share with every team that is exposed to La Fe is that there is nothing that any of us can to do to "fix" the situation. Yes, we could provide free food for the community. We could rebuild the houses so they are cement block. We could even start a school and provide Biblically-based and applicable education. These are ALL good things! In fact, we may do these things eventually... but does that "fix" the situation?<br />
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What can <b>I</b> do to meet the physical needs of these precious people? What about the emotional needs? and the spiritual? How about changing their future, not just the now. When I'm not in La Fe every day, will they step up and serve one another as I am serving them now? Will they love one another? Will they speak the Gospel to one another?<br />
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Truthfully, there is NOTHING I can do to "fix" the situation. All I can do is have la fe (the faith) that God loves these people intimately and longs to redeem them. He can have my hands, my feet, my heart, my husband, my body, my life... Surrender. Love. Serve. Rest.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-16849585488463573072012-07-06T21:05:00.000-06:002012-07-06T21:05:12.404-06:00A Bit of Home<span style="color: #cc0000;">This coming week, a team of 8 people is traveling from our home church of <a href="http://covcom.us/" target="_blank">Covenant Community </a>(AKA CovCom) in Scottsdale, AZ. The leader of the team has been one of my/our friends/supporters for the past 13 or so years and he's bringing 3 of his "kids" (some of them are now adults) with him! I am SO looking forward to spending time with our friends, sharing our growing relationships in La Fe with them, and being able to have some "homey" feelings for the week. Hooray!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;">PS - It was my birthday on June 24th and Mike took me out to dinner tonight at Ceasar's. I had grilled salmon, baked potato and homemade tiramisu for dessert. Delicious! Here's a picture of my birthday buddies and I celebrating the day of by eating a Skittle. :)</span><br />
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Yesterday we got to go to the beach to celebrate the birthday of our lovely teammate, <a href="http://avoiceinthestreets.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Kate</a>. While splashing around in the ocean, one of the girls that lives in <a href="http://shannoninhonduras.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Shannon's</a> home for single mothers told me that she can't swim and was afraid for herself as well as her daughter. I encouraged her that she could stand easily in the water and that as long has her daughter was with someone, she would be just fine (blah, blah, blah...).</span><div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Before I knew it, the young mother was jumping and playing in the ocean - face in the water and everything! Her daughter was standing in the waves up to her waist and laughing joyfully as the water sprayed her face and eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The fear that this mother had was unfounded. She and her precious daughter ended up have a most wonderful time in the ocean... but what if she had allowed her fear to stop her from getting in?</span></div>
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<span style="color: #134f5c; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">What am I afraid of? What is it that I'm not willing to give a try because I'm frightened - or just not fully trusting in the One who holds my life? Taking a step forward may not be as fun as playing in the ocean, but it just might be...</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-52838975764117133732012-06-29T21:16:00.002-06:002012-06-29T21:20:48.278-06:00Puss-oozing Feet<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Since we began working in La Fe 6 months ago, I have met many sick people. Our free clinic brings in quite a few people who suffer from head colds to parasites to diabetes. Nothing I'd seen before prepared me for my recently blossoming relationship with Alejandrina (Drina).</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>I first met Drina and her family when Mike and I were walking through La Fe to see if it was where God was calling us (back in January). We were later warned that her husband, Jiero, was a "dangerous man" but thankfully did not experience that during our first encounter with this family.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Drina has two children, Maria (8ish) and Mauro (5ish).
4 months ago, Drina began to have some pain in her feet and decided to rest a while. What began as a brief recovery time turned into a week, which turned into a month, and that month then carried on to 4 months. After 4 months of "bed rest", Drina is no longer able to clean her house and care for her children and husband. Her feet now have exposed sores that ooze as she moves. Her breathing is labored and her mobility extremely limited. She has always been gordita (a little chubby), but she is now obese.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>As a result of Drina's bed rest, Jiero quit his job as a carpenter, the children stopped attending school, the laundry began to pile high, the food was not cooked, soon there wasn't money for food, the television was sold, the couch was sold, Maria took on the responsibility of running the home (more or less), and Jiero had to start trying to find work that he could do while caring for his sick wife.
The family came to a grinding halt. Money for tortillas or rice came irregularly. There were days where the only thing they "ate" was a small bag of milk. Despite the meager meals, Drina continued to suffer as her skin began to become sore from lack of movement and sweatiness of skin on skin contact 24/7.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>About one month ago, my nurse friend, <a href="http://pettengillmissionaries.blogspot.com/">Erin</a>, and I visited Drina in her home. Erin's orders: Get out of bed, start moving, and I'll see you at the clinic in two weeks! Drina didn't take those orders to heart.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>This past Thursday, I decided it was time to pay Drina a visit. After a brief greeting (as she was covered by a sheet still on "bed rest"), I asked how she was. She showed me the gaping holes in the skin on her feet. She spoke to me about how expensive the medicine would be. She lamented how they had no food because they had to save everything for her medicine. The house smelled of excrement and sour garbage. The children were out begging for food and money. Jiero sat next to his wife's bed in thoughtful silence.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It was then that I cried out my Father.
How could I help them - not just today or tomorrow - but help them get back to where they were before? Before she put herself in bed and her feet began to decompose...</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>It was then that God brought an answer to my (blonde) head. I asked if Drina would like me to come do exercises with her (standing/sitting, arm movements...). Yes. Yes, Jiero and Drina both agreed. After talking, Drina showed me that she can stand and walk a few steps on her own (HOORAY!). Her husband was shocked - he didn't think she could.</i></span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jVepwvXSE9E/T-5szGSg1mI/AAAAAAAAAiU/0twjE7N2tgw/s1600/IMG_4813.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jVepwvXSE9E/T-5szGSg1mI/AAAAAAAAAiU/0twjE7N2tgw/s320/IMG_4813.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Today (Friday), I returned to La Fe to visit Drina and her family (with my broom in hand). Drina was sitting in a chair in front of the television, the kids were playing outside and Jiero was outside with them. When I saw Drina, she turned off the TV and showed me that she was dressed and excited to do exercises. I had not told her I would be returning, but she knew what I was there for.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>God has given me a healthy, strong body and I put it to good use sweeping the floor in Drina's home - bedroom, living room, kitchen. Drina did some exercises while I was there. Her children helped me clean. Jiero repaired some shoes (his at-home business these days). It was beautiful.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>After a bit, I took my leave - promising to return the next week to spend more time with her, do more exercises and telling her thank you for allowing me to spend time in her home. As I left, Jiero (a self-proclaimed NON-christian) thanked me repeatedly - tears in the corners of his eyes. This is no "dangerous man".</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>I do not hide that I am a missionary, nor do I pretend that cleaning her house was how I wanted to spend my Friday morning (mine is pretty grimy these days as well). I am just a messed-up sinner who God decided to place in La Fe and Drina is a precious child of God who I have the absolute honor to have a growing friendship with - puss-oozing feet and all.</i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Please pray for Alejandrina as she continues to struggled with her health, her family responsibilities, her emotional well-being, and her lack of understand of God's grace...</i></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0La Ceiba, Honduras15.7666667 -86.833333315.7055417 -86.9122973 15.8277917 -86.754369300000008tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-314226861212806251.post-58630738936577439122012-06-29T17:12:00.001-06:002012-06-29T17:12:08.480-06:00<span style="color: #990000; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>First blog is on the way and trust me, it's a good one! :) Go ahead and put your e-mail address in that spot on the right so you can get all my blog posts sent directly to your e-mail! It's so handy!</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09561212599729937107noreply@blogger.com0