confessions of a missionary wife

We skyped a missionary service a few weeks ago, and someone wanted to know how we became "ninja christians".   He meant, I think, how did we decide to actually LEAVE.  


We were with other missionaries, and we were thousands of miles away with a 30 second delay, so I could not laugh out loud like I wanted to.

I thought, if only you knew. . .

I am NOT a NINJA christian.
I am NOT.
My life is not glamorous.
I struggle with some of the same things I always have, I have laid some time, only to pick them up again.

Sometimes I wonder if people realize how very not ninja I am.

Let me give you some recent examples.
of my non-glamourous life.

Last week Dave had dropped the girls off at school, and later I hoped in the car to go to a Bible study.  He was driving with the window down.
I make it a practice not to do that, because there are many people who come to your car while you are stopped for a variety of reasons.
Well it was a beautiful morning, with blue skies and white fluffy skies, and the music was on, and I was by myself (which rarely happens) so I was enjoying it.
I was at a stop sign, minding my own business, keenly aware of what was going on in front of me.
When all of a sudden, a man on roller-skates comes out of no where, FROM BEHIND, and pops his head in my window to ask me if I wanted to buy a back scratcher.
OK.  I panicked, thinking how am I going to get out of this situation, 2 of the missionary women here have had men grab them and steal their purses.
I am thinking I am going to die in Costa Rica by a strange man with a back scratcher.
My immediate thought was NOT let me witness to this man who obviously needs Jesus.
No sir, my ninja faith had me run the red light and roll up the window as fast as I could.

speaking of the car.
last week I decided that I drive better  when I am angry.
I have had a huge fear of the road from here to the girl's school since the beginning of school, creeping my way up.  Praying that the rapture occurred at any second.
It is scary people.
Well last week I was angry before I left, (I am not going into the details :) and got half way up the road when I realized I was driving the "drive of death".
And I was not focused on the bathsized pot holes, or steep embankments.
(negative points there)

I still struggle with materialism.
I have hardly thought about that in a long while (selling most everything you own and packing everything you want for the next 3 years in 20 suitcases makes you choose your purchases carefully)
However, the girls started a new school, and at this school there are some very affluent people.  I found myself wanted to know who Micheal Kross was and how could I get a bag like everyone else's.  (or I would settle for a coach bag.)  I have never ever in my life wanted a purse that would cost a house payment.  But yep, it is true.  I did recently.  I wanted to fit in by the things that other people saw.  (before that I just wanted some new pajamas from k-mart)

The next have nothing to do with Ninja faith, but are just some confessions.

I can not do a three point turn (it is more like a five point turn if I am lucky)
I use my i-phone to help me in difficult conversations, and directions.  I am still addicted to it.
I still like Vera Bradley & Brighton jewelry
I have become a hoarder.  (not like extreme coupon hoarding) but . . . here you never know what you are going to find, and how long they are going to sell it.  So when I find something I like, or my girls like, I buy 4 of them. (which may or may not include brownie mix)  I know that is ridiculous.  But I have gone back so many times and NOT been able to get them, I have resorted to hoarding.  A month ago (for example) they had the cornbread mix that we like.  Now we like it so much it made the precious 20 suitcases when we came.  Only one box, because we only eat it on New Years Day.  But they had it in a store here, and I bought 4 boxes.  (really?)
I buy imported fruit.  I can't for the life of me understand how people can eat some of these fruits. (for the record apples, grapes, and kiwi are imported)
I don't understand why missionaries criticize each other.
I don't want to get the "yellow fever" vaccine that I have to get.

I could go on and on. . .

But I will stop with one last confession.
Today I cried.
I came home from a parent volunteer session at the girls school.  I plopped down in the room where Dave was doing office work, and started to cry.
I will give the man credit, he was smart enough to stop what he was doing, but was totally clueless at the cause.
Every time I tried to tell him, I found myself physically unable to.

BACKGROUND INFORMATION:
Our Big prayer is that our girls, especially Maggi, finds a true good friend.  Maggi's personality needs a good friend.  There are only 5 girls in her class.  One is sweet but has a faith completely opposite of what we believe.  One has no faith.  And two are girls who are from here, and have been in the same class since Kindergarden.  They are tight, and speak Spanish as first language.  Maggi and I have been brainstroming ways to "mix" the Costa Rican girls and the American girls.  Well today I realized how hard it is to be in her shoes.  In the parent volunteer meeting, the women paired off, obviously being close friends, and after cordial introductions with me, they start speaking in Spanish, and became involved in their own conversations.  Now our Spanish is good enough to order food, grocery shop, small talk, speak in conversations, pay bills, and are comfortable in conversations that we are familiar with the vocabulary.    But that doesn't take the place of a life time of "history" between friends, talking about things that are familiar with local phrases and terms.  I came home with the painful reality of what Maggi faces everyday.  Wanted to connect, but having a big divide.  My heart was bleeding for her.  I had no words.  I had no ninja like faith.  I wanted to take her home, and give her a pajama party  with her old friends.  I wanted to go to the mall, go to chick-fil-a, and drive with the windows down singing songs at the top of our lungs (I would even let the songs be One Direction songs).  I wanted things to not be hard for her.
so I cried.
Not the stories you here missionaries talk about when they come to your church.
Not the thoughts they make people give money to your mission.
Certainly NOT the definition of a "ninja" Christian.

just an ordinary mom, doing the best she can, realizing that it is about the small steps that are defining our family and our faith.

If I trust the Lord enough to move my family wherever He wants.
Then surely I can trust Him to bring Maggi a friend.
(and one who has a great mom wouldn't be bad- just saying)
and then I stopped crying (after I ate a little chocolate).

1 Thessaloninas 1:2-4
We always thank God for all of you and continually mention you in our prayers.  We remember before our God and Father your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.  For we know, brothers and sisters loved by God, that He has chosen you. . .

CINCEL

OK,

Can I pretend that I haven't ignored the blog the last 6 months?

Life was really crazy, and we were all stretched thin.

So much has happened in the last 6 months.  .  .

The girls finished their first year of school here in San Jose.

We officially became residents of Costa Rica.

The girls started their new school 6 weeks after finishing the old one

(is it just me or did ya'll see the difference in Maggi, good grief. . . .)

We received our driver's license.

and. . .

WE GRADUATED FROM LANGUAGE SCHOOL. .

Words on the page, or a blog, or even spoken can not begin to explain, how each of those things were major milestones in our lives.

I think that is why I haven't written anything down, I just did not have the words to begin to explain how we were living out our life here.

When they give you that test to assess your stress level, well lets just say, we "aced" that test.

The language school we attended here in San Jose, Costa Rica is called CINCEL.  It is where any missionary from the Assemblies of God will go for language studies if they are going to a Central or South American country, or a special assignment that requires Spanish.

CINCEL is short for the Center for Cultural Research and Language Studies.
If you translate the word from Spanish, it is chisel.

Chisel.

That is a perfect description of how our last year has been.
we have been chiseled.

and it has been painful.
and we wanted to quit.
and we cried.
and we studied.
and we humiliated our self trying to speak.

We were slowly being chipped.  carved.  simply put chiseled.

chiseled.

I just couldn't find the strength to share my experience on line.

When we agreed to go. . . at all cost, I don't think we knew exactly what that meant.

Let me point out, that I don't compare myself to people who have paid with their lives, their family.

I don't think we  (except my girls) are extraordinary people.
We have always said, we are just an ordinary family going where He leads.

But when you are being chiseled, and you see the parts that are falling off, you find your self surprised as you watch the process.
Some parts we saw "fall" are parts we thought were essential.  (I am a nurse, so to me, it is like in the middle of a procedure and the surgeon "nicks" an artery")
And to be honest, we felt like we were "bleeding out".

When we were being chiseled we, at times, had "open wounds".

But He kept chiseling.

and we kept moving forward.

I am not so foolish to believe that the "chiseling" is finished.  That does not stop because you get a diploma from a language school.  (but just for the record, I have one)

but, for us, we feel we have reached a milestone.

When we (David and I)  take a moment to look at the big picture, the big project, the "sculpture", we get very emotional.  Even as I type, I get teary. . .

What we couldn't see each day, or each "loss" looks beautiful now.
Even unfinished.

We have overcome very personal attacks, loss of control, defeat, sadness, anger, discouragement, and the list goes on.  Chiseled.

HOWEVER, I wouldn't change it.  Not one stroke of the chisel. We are stronger, our faith is deeper, our commitment is more fierce, our love for each other more bonded.  We trust the Lord more, we want to give more, go more, be more.  We want to be found faithful, obedient, and humble servants.

Thank you so much for sharing this journey with us.  Thank you for the encouragement, the prayers, the packages, the letters, the extra money, the calls, the faith you put in us.  Thank you for loving us, during the process.  Thank you for believing in the "rookie missionaries".

Our prayer for you is that during your CINCEL experience, when you are being chiseled to something that is unrecognizable, know that you are not alone.  We are partners together.

We are honored to be with you, as you are with us, for the "before" the "during" and we will together want to be found faithful for "after" . . .throughout the chiseling process.

A trip to the market

We have a variety of places to shop for groceries here in San Jose.

We shop mostly at a grocery store near our house, because of the proximity to our house.  There is an open fruit and vegetable market on the weekends, and when we get a chance we like to get our fresh fruits and veggies for the week there at the "feria".

We don't generally shop at the central marketplace for our meats but I had to share some pictures

just keep swimming

Not ready to cook with feet yet

Or hearts

ok, or tongue either

I have to admit, I have not gone totally native with all of the food, we stick to what we know, we have added more beans and rice to our diet, and have added many new fruits, many of which we don't even know how to pronounce correctly. . . remember we are new missionaries :)

If this was my full time job

If this was my full time job, I would obviously be hungry and homeless.

I don't know how my time evaporates, but here it is March, and I realize I haven't posted anything this year.  Good grief, how does that happen?

I have some strong examples of how this happens, for example, I tried in January to put a post of pictures from each month of the 2012.  I had sketchy to little internet for a few days, then I forgot.

Then I tried to post some from Emma's bd in Feb, then I realized, that I had deleted her bd pictures, after at least an hour of searching them for them, by that time I had forgotten all about the blog, and was mourning the loss of the pictures. ;(

And finally today, in my efforts to multitask, I had the blog ready to publish, and went to to check an email, and alas, loss the entire thing.

So there it is friends.
My confession


But Life is good.  I have to admit, that learning Spanish is literally our full time job, leaving very little energy (mental or physical) for anything else.  including this blog.

I feel like I need to wait for something "great" to blog about, but people say, that want to know how we are doing, and some of the things we are seeing. . . so I need to do better. . .

So lets start  back with "simple"




Emma's 9th birthay, Feb 4th

Maggi's 12 birthday

2 of the prettiest things in Costa Rica

I will be working on trying to be more intentional on updating our friends and families as we learn to become what God wants us to be here in Costa Rica.

Ps I may even to put some older post that never got published on here, so if the timing doesn't make sense. . . .there is a plan!

We love you guys!

The Message

We are getting ready to wrap up another year, and quite frankly, I am ready to close 2012.  

It has been a wild and rocky one for me personally.  Lots of growth, but with that, comes the growing pains.  And for me, this year was marked with loss.  So I will be the first to celebrate the beginning of a new year.

This morning in my quite time, my Bible was in my bedroom, and since I was up earlier than anyone else, I quietly came down stairs.  I have this little copy of The Message.  So I decided to read in it this morning (it was either that or the Spanish Bible, and since I am not being taught Spanish in the King James language, I went with the Message)

It was a beautiful message to a familiar passage, I had to share:

Psalm 40

I waited and waited and waited for God.

At last he looked; finally he listened.

He lifted me out of the ditch, pulled me from deep mud

He stod me up on a solid rock

to make sure I wouldn't slip.

He taught me how to sing the latest God-song,

a praise-song to our God.

More and more people are seeing this;

they enter the mystery,

abandoning themselves to God.

Blessed are you who give yourselves over to God,

turn your backs on the World's "sure thing",

ignore what the world worships;

The world's a huge stockpile of God-wonders and God thoughts.

Nothing and no one comes close to You!

I start talking about you, telling what I know,

and quickly run out of words.

Neither numbers nor words account for you.

Doing something for you, bringing something to you-

that's not what you're after,

Being religious, acting pious-

that's not what you're asking for.

You've opened my ears so I can listen.

So I answered, "I'm coming.  I read in your letter what you wrote about me,

And I'm coming to the party you're throwing for me."

That's when God's Word entered my life,

became part of my very being.

I've preached you to the whole congregation,

I've kept back noting, God-you know that.

I didn't keep the news of your ways

a secret, didn't keep it to myself.

I told it all, how dependable you are, how thorough.

I didn't hold back pieces of love and truth

For myself alone.  I told it all

let the congregation know the whole story.

Now God don't hold out on me, don't hold back your passion 

Your love and truth are all that keeps me together.

When troubles ganged up on me,

a mob of sins past counting,

I was so swamped by guilt that my heart gave out. . . .

But all who are hunting for you-

oh let them sing and be happy.

Let those who know what you're all about

tell the world you're great and not quitting.

And me? I'm a mess.  I'm nothing and have nothing.

Make something of me. . .

But God, don't put it off.

I love this, and I hope you do to.  

            He made sure I wouldn't slip

                    turn your back on the world's sure thing

                              I quickly ran out of words

                                        I read in your letter what you wrote about me

                                                 your love and truth are all that keeps me together

                                                       and me? I'm a mess

                                                            make something of me!

W.I.T.T.Y.

A friend recently asked about a devotional I had used, and I tried to remember one that I used on here.  So I began looking, and I had actually packed up the book and brought it here, Voices of the Faithful, inspiring stories of courage from Christians serving around the world.  So I had the book out, and flipping through it, Thank you Jesus for your reminding  me to put this in our packed bags.

Anyway, I came across a day that I had underlined, and so I reread it, and boy was the timing perfect.

The title of the page is

W.I.T.T.Y

"when Peter saw him, he asked, "Lord, what about him?" Jesus answered, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?  You must follow me"" John 21:21-22

The devotional says to write out WITTY in the margins, meaning: (What is that to you?)

It is so human, and super easy to compare ourselves to those around us, instead of focusing on what he has for us, the road he mapped out specifically for us.  

I am going to quote the book from here, because it was perfect.  .  .

God says, FOLLOW ME.  But instead of looking to the Lord.  I sometimes look to the situations and qualities of others.  I use the excuses, "lord, they speak the language better. . . Lord, they are more outgoing than I am . . . Lord, they have more friends than I do. . . Lord, they are having an easier term than I am.  "taking my eyes off God's purpose for me and placing my eyes on someones else's life shows lack of contentment.

You must follow Me.  He does not say if I want to or if it easy;  He says I must follow Him.  God made me the way He did for a purpose.  I am the only one who can follow God the way I can.  You are the only one who can follow God the way you can.  We must follow Him, and we must be content with our role while doing it.  

Now don't think this was written just for missionaries, because it isn't, when I wasn't on the field, I had thoughts like, "Lord they don't understand, they don't have to work night shift, or They have no idea what is like having a hard time getting pregnant, or they have no idea the struggles I am facing, or it is so easy for them to start an IV (remember I am a nurse).

So wherever you find your self, you can find yourself taking your eyes off the Lord.
Where we are in Costa Rica, we are at language school with other rookie missionaries who are in the same place we are.  We are all trying to learn Spanish, we all just came off itineration, we are all giving up our family, friends, and home to answer a call that is greater than we are.

So it is sometimes hard to not look around.  I confess, I am guilty.  I get frustrated when every one around me can roll their R's and I can't, or when they understand reflexive pronouns, and I have no clue what is going on.  I need to remember WITTY.  What is it that to me.  God has a path just for me, one that they are not walking.  Their road, wether it be in Costa Rica, Gastonia, Folsom, or Lusk Wyoming, has been mapped out just for them.

Lord please don't find me with my eyes on my neighbor, discontent with the plan you have for me.  Please keep me from comparing myself to those around me, either at home or on the mission field.

Lord please teach me to be content in who I am in You.



(imagine a really peaceful picture here, but after 2 days of slow internet, forget it :))

I call dibs on that!

We only have 3 more days of class, and I can not find the motivation I need to study. . .

Dave is out with some friends, the girls are fast asleep, and I am trying to understand the differences between saber and conocer, (um hello) but my brain has checked out. . .

So I am reflecting tonight. . .

We have been in our house for a little over a week now, and we are starting to feel like this is home.

Last night, Emma said something to me, that got me thinking. . .

and since I have the time, I thought I would share.

She came up to me, and said,

"mama, I call dibs on the placemats!"

With a thousand and one things running through my head, I was confused.

So I said, "clarify please Emma"

And she said, "when you die, I want the placemats"

What a strange comment, I was thinking. . .

and then I got all teary. . .

Because, during itineration people would ask, "well what are you going to take?" "how many suitcases will you take" etc.

And it was hard, we packed 20 bags, and we each brought a carry on.  So how do you decide what is the most important things to you, things that you will be ok if they are packed up for the next 3 years, and you won't see again, what do you save, what do you throw away, what is so special that it makes it into the 20 precious bags.

This was very hard for me, I gave the girls a lot of leeway, they brought things that I don't think they will ever play with or use.  We left power tools behind and packed my little ponies, thats how important the girls transition was to us.

And now back to Emma's comment.  To me, she wasn't just saying, "I want your placemats when you die" She was saying, "Mama, I love that we have a placemat for every season, when I am old, and have girls of my own (because she doesn't want boys) I want to make my home special and pull out these placemats to remind me of growing up.  Mama, thank you, for taking the space out of the 20 suitcases for these placemats, you made a good decision. "

"Mama, you made this house my home, and I love it."

And that my friends, made my day.
and now I am teary again.