Luz Means Light

There’s something I’ve wanted to write about for a long time now, but I wasn’t sure where to start. In the village where Manuel and I regularly translate lives a family that has come to be very special to us-a grandfather, a grandmother, a son and a daughter, and four grandchildren. And though they do not share our faith, we love them and have lived life with them-making tortillas, picking coffee, eating hamburgers, helping with homework, playing soccer. About a year ago, this family began to pass through some hard times. First, an uncle died. Then, Benito and Luz (the grandparents) had an accident which totaled the pick-up they use for farm work and put Luz in the hospital in the city. During this time, the family found out that Luz had cancer in her liver. God sent a blessing her way in the form of Myrtle, a cancer survivor who came down for the first time to the village on one of the teams. I translated in the hospital as Myrtle talked to Luz, telling her what to expect from chemotherapy and encouraging her with Scripture and her own story of how she survived cancer. Luz had tears running down her cheeks as she told Myrtle that to see her had given her hope that she could someday be whole and happy again like Myrtle was. When our visit was done, Manuel went in and shared the gospel with her, to which she responded, “How could I not believe that?”

A couple months later in June, we returned to the village with a group from the States. Luz was home from the hospital and we took whatever opportunity we could to love and serve their family. On Saturday morning of our visit, we heard an announcement over the village loudspeaker and the bells at the church ring. Benito’s mother had passed away. Yet another hardship had come their way.

The last time I saw Luz was the day we left the village, when we dropped her and Benito off at a tiny house on the outskirts of the city where she would stay during her treatment. We hugged her and waved goodbye, promising to pray for her. She looked pale, shrunken, and tired, but peaceful. I really thought I would see her again after that last visit, but Luz passed away at the end of July, just five months after finding out about the cancer. Will I see her again in eternity? I have good reason to hope I will. In the meantime, the daily tasks of life will surely swallow me up in their mundaneness and sadly fade my memory of the time I spent with her. But I know I can find her again in the faces of her daughter and granddaughter, the face of a friend I had for only a short time.

Cricket Wars

When I was growing up, every fall we would get tons of crickets in our house. With the weather changing and getting colder, those crickets sought out a warm haven to escape the coming snow. Unfortunately for us, that haven was our basement, where my two sisters and I had our bedrooms. I can remember many nights that I turned out my lights, snuggled up all cozy and warm in my bed and would just be drifting off to sleep, when one of those horrible little crickets would begin his chirping. This, of course, ruined any chances I had of getting a good night’s rest. I would tear my room apart, looking under clothes and behind furniture for the culprit. Sometimes I found the cricket and smashed it with whatever was on hand, maybe pounding on it a few more times than necessary just to get out some lingering frustration. But other times I didn’t find it. Those were the tough nights.

When I went off to college, I seemed to have escaped those noise-making fiends (although I did encounter a larger, more dangerous enemy), and I quite simply forgot about them for a few years. Until I encountered my nemesis once more in Mexico, hiding somewhere in my bathroom. In my bathroom, I have a small wooden crate with various hair care products and styling tools, a stand alone sink, the toilet, and the shower-no rugs, no other furniture, no cabinets. Now you tell me, how is it possible for that cricket to have escaped me? I looked under my crate and sprayed insecticide behind my sink where I couldn’t see, yet somehow that cricket kept chirping. I waited. Chirping. I pinpointed the noise to the crate, so I took everything out of it. No cricket. Everything back in the crate. More waiting. Chirping. Unfortunately, I never found that cricket, and I still don’t know where it was hiding in that crate to have escaped my sight. So then, what did I do in order to evade the sleepless night that was looming over my head? The whole crate with everything in it spent the night outside, as far away from me as I could possibly get it.

The Crockpot Cookie

Yesterday,  I just knew that the only thing that would satisfy the intense craving I was having was chocolate chip cookies. Without them, I might not make it to the next day. But my principal dilemma was how in the world was I going to get them, since I don’t presently own an oven. I didn’t want to bother anyone on a Sunday afternoon while they were spending time with their families to ask if I could come over and borrow their oven. Neither did I want to go to the store to buy chocolate chip cookies, because let’s face it, they just aren’t the same as when they are freshly baked, all warm and ooey gooey and delicious! What can I do, I thought, to obtain these seemingly unattainable cookies? Then it struck me, why not try to use my crockpot to bake one huge cookie pie! I quickly got on the Internet to check if this was even possible, and lo and behold, it was! I’m going to do it then, I thought. So I got out my mixer, warmed up my crockpot, and stirred up a batch of cookie dough. However, I knew that using my crockpot to do this might prove to be a challenge. You see, I have an “I really don’t like you/hate” relationship with my crockpot. We just don’t get along very well. We were able to work out our differences once when I made chili, but every other time I’ve used it, we have failed to be friends. My wonderful crockpot really enjoys burning my food, even when I make things only using the low setting. Now, I suppose there’s always the possibility that it could be a problem with the crockpot user, but I prefer to blame the food burning device rather than myself. So with some trepidation, after lining my crockpot with tinfoil, I pressed the cookie dough into the bottom and set it on low to bake. I left my crockpot to do its work, reminding myself that I absolutely must check it at least every half hour. On the first check, the edges of my cookie pie were getting pretty dark, so I switched it to warm. However, an hour later it still wasn’t getting very far along, so I switched it back to low. Half an hour later, I lifted out my cookie pie with very burnt edges and the rest hardly baked. Well, it wasn’t a complete success, but I finally had my chocolate chip cookie that I could at least eat the middle of. Oh how wonderful it was to finally satisfy my craving! I went to bed content and full of cookie………Unfortunately, my happy story has a bad ending. I woke up feeling sick this morning, most likely due to ingesting too much raw cookie 😦

Village Adventure

Our most recent trip to the village was, well…actually not that much of an adventure. Leadership changed again, which we’ve found out that it will change every year. This means that every year we will need to reapply for permission to be there. We were given many restrictions, such as not being able to leave the paved roads in the village and not being able to give any kind of classes or do sports camps. However, we were permitted to walk around and buy things as well as go out for supper in the evenings to the restaurant and the homes of a few families that were willing to cook for us. As long as someone invited us into their home, we were allowed to enter. The main hardship we faced there was eating too much, since it is the custom in the village to offer something to eat or drink to your guests, and as a guest, it is rude to turn it down. And, as I visited many homes accompanied by the ladies in the group who came, you can imagine the state of my stomach. My better half, Manuel, spent most of his time waiting with our group leader John to meet with the leaders about getting the go ahead from them. It wasn’t part of God’s plans this time, but we are praying to get the meeting in on the next trip! Even though I didn’t meet the leaders, I did meet my new role model, a seventy some year old lady who told us stories about chopping hornets and snakes in half with her machete. Someday….once I get a machete…..I will be like her!

Guat’s Up?

After one of the longest, sweatiest road trips of my life, I am back in Oaxaca. The group left on March 31st and returned from Guatemala early Wednesday morning after leaving at 4 A.M. on Tuesday. I found out quickly that our van had no air conditioning (which isn’t all that uncommon here), and as you head south, the weather only gets hotter and more humid! However, apart from a slightly uncomfortable drive, all of us had a blast the week we spent serving in the outskirts of a village called Pochuta.

We really didn’t know much about the village before arriving. In this particular community, there still is no established church, but a Guatemalan pastor along with his family have been working towards that end for two years now. They hold a church service in the mission building every Sunday and Wednesday, but otherwise live in a another village about two hours away. We came alongside them to work with them and encourage them during the week we were there. Our first day we spent visiting families and sharing the gospel in the morning. Then in the afternoon we invited all the children to a kids club. The next days fell into a pattern of kids club in the morning and discipleship classes in the afternoon. Two afternoons were committed to a class for women and another afternoon was a class for new believers (men or women) and a leadership class for the two men whom the pastor hopes will one day become the leadership of the church. On Wednesday and Sunday the pastor requested that we be in charge of the service, and on Sunday Manuel preached about the resurrection of Christ. In Pochuta, the people celebrate the death of Jesus (among other things) on Friday and Saturday, but don’t celebrate on Sunday, completely forgetting about the most important part, His resurrection. It is my prayer that we are helping to build a firm foundation in this small community, and that the Lord will continue to work in the hearts of the people there. In the end, I really think the trip had a much bigger effect on the team than on the community, which we were able to give testimony of in church today.

On Friday Manuel and I are headed off again, this time to the mountains, to translate for a team coming from Ohio! I’ll be checking in again after we get back! Over and out!

Guatemala Mission Trip

For awhile now, the church has been talking about sending a group on a mission trip and those plans have at last come to fruition! A group of thirteen or so people from Lluvias de Gracia, Manuel and I included, will be heading down to a village in Guatemala at the end of this month. We began working on planning the trip with an IMB missionary couple who attends our church. They have been in charge of getting our team organized and putting us in contact with another missionary couple working close to the village. Four members of our group will give discipleship classes while the rest are going to do a kids’ club. The rest of our time will be spent evangelizing. Thanks to Kyle from First Baptist back in Brookings, we have lots of the little books “For Your Joy” or “Para Tu Gozo” by John Piper that we can use in our efforts! We are going to travel part of the way by van and part by bus, spending a total of five full days in the village with a full day of travel on either end. At this point in time, there are only six baptized believers in the village. Please pray that God would prepare the way ahead and the hearts of the people, as well as helping our team to get all their passports and funding in time! We are all excited to be going and to have the chance to share Christ!

Mi Casa Es Tu Casa!

Hi everyone and welcome to my blog! I find I must shout out a congratulations to my mom for being the first to check it out, as she has informed me. She’s the best 🙂 I hope that here I can keep you all entertained with my crazy, yet much of the time more ordinary than you would think, life that I lead here in Oaxaca. Maybe even teach you some Spanish! Hasta la proxima-until next time!