911

It's raining tonight.
I make note of this because had it rained earlier
I wouldn't have been there.

Mom and Dad have been out of town and,
being that the irrigation water has been shut off for a while
and that it has still been warm here
and that Dad threw some seed in some bare spots on their yard,
I went to their house this afternoon to water with the watering can.

I would have been gone and missed it all but just as I was ready to get in my car
I remembered that I forgot to check to make sure there was no mail....

I checked.  None.
I turned to leave
and as I was walking away
I heard a voice-
shaking, not quite loud enough to understand.
I turn.
 "are you talking to me?"

And then I see the face.
A young teenager.  (I found out later he was 16)
Carrying a dog who was shaking as bad as the crying boy.

"Please help me.  
My mom hasn't taken her medication and then she goes crazy.
I am scared"

I don't know what to do.
"Please, don't leave me!"

I don't know what I say but he follows me and when I ask what I should do
he tells me to call the police.  911.

I've never done that before but, then, I've never been in this situation.
I am scared too and by this time the mother has come outside.  Coming towards us.
She's angry.  I am not really sure where the anger is directed right then.
Me or him.

I take refuge with the boy in my parents garage
while on the phone with the 911 operator waiting for someone to come...
The mother stands outside.

There, of course, is more to the story.
I did talk with the police.
I did have to stay until they released me to go.
The mother did want to press charges against me for taking him in the garage!

I don't know what happened as I was told I could go before they were done.
I don't know what the real story was behind the scene.
And I don't know if I did the best thing although the police told me I did the right thing.

And on the way home I cried (actually I cried talking to the police!)
And I can't get this family off of my mind. (There is a divorce going on...)
And I wonder what is going on with the mother and son tonight.
And I wonder if he is safe.

And I now know that this is going on all over my little part of the world
and today it became reality to me.
And I cry for what we as a people have become.

And I only know of ONE hope.

If it had rained earlier I wouldn't have been there...

5 Days - 4 Nights

For the first time in 3 years we are going to all be together.
The whole family.
Together.

It has the potential to be a glorious time.
And there is opportunity for, well, a not so glorious time.

Fourteen personalities - 9 guys, and 5 girls.
Four marriages.  6 kids.
Many different ages.
14 different opinions.
1 house.

And I am beyond excited!!!!

Being that we live in 4 different states -
 two clear across the country from the other two -
we don't get this chance often enough.
And we always love to get together.

But, we are people, and in spite of our love for each other
we must still make a conscience decision
to unconditionally love each other in confined spaces.
To look over each other's faults.
To speak kindly of each other and to each other.
To put others needs and desires ahead of our own.
To respect each others space and opinions.
To not be easily offended or hurt.

To remember that just because we are family it does not give us the
freedom to operate in the flesh
but rather the greater responsibility to live by the Spirit.

I have not really worried about us,
knowing we are blessed
to have a family that longs to be together,
but I would be naive to think that there is not a risk here.

We are living in a time when families are easily
torn apart by things said
or actions taken.
And it is, by nature, our tendency to look out for ourselves
before others.

And so I write this;
Knowing how excited we all are to spend this time together.
Wanting it to be with the same expectation that we wait for the next time.
Desiring that we miss each other when all is said and done.

And knowing that each one makes this imperfectly, perfect family.

Behind their backs

She's pretty
and has a sense of humor to die for.

She's smart and has a successful career.

She's a sharp dresser and knows how to put together "a look".

She has a family that loves her
and thinks she is the best.

But her perception of herself is different.
She struggles with, what I now know, years of verbal abuse.  Bullying.

I've known her for years.

Well...maybe I shouldn't use the word KNOWN
because when I really listened to her recently
I came to the realization that a huge part of her life
I hadn't known.
A part that shaped and molded her into who she is.

I don't know what caused her to tell her story that day.
We weren't alone so she wasn't talking directly to me.
She wasn't trying to get my approval or sympathy.
She was just telling her story.
Unexpectedly even to herself, I think.

There were a few questions here and there
but, honestly, we mostly just listened
to a woman explain
why she is who she is today.

I don't know how many years this bullying consumed
(or maybe she would say at times it still feels as though it goes on)
but in those precious years of a child's life when it matters the most
what people think
she was, in her mind, told all to clearly what they thought.
And it wasn't nice.  It wasn't loving.  It wasn't right.
Maybe, we think, she shouldn't have let it bother her - what they thought.
But it did.  It does.

Called names, ridiculed, (and maybe the worst) ignored.
At school and at church.
In the church youth group where you would expect to be loved unconditionally - or at least accepted.
At first she hoped for some reprieve when relatives
were part of the group.
She quickly quit hoping.
Their silence was as bad as the words that were spoken.

Even as she told her story I could feel the pain.
She teared up now and then
but it was as though, finally,
she could speak of it - even to herself.

She excused the kids now
by saying "they were just kids"
but in her telling of it
I came to the realization
that she can be in that moment once again simply
by a word spoken to her now that she interprets to mean something it wasn't meant to mean.
It all becomes so personal.
The gut retching pain of it all.

She mentioned how she is examining how this small portion of her life
has impacted the majority of her life.
Decisions.  Actions.  Choices.  Self-worth.
Things she does and feels even today, so many years later.

I've since cried for her -
for that young person that so badly wanted acceptance
only to be openly put down - beaten down - with words and actions.
To be judged by the outward appearance
and motives that others knew nothing about.
I weep for that person even as I write this.

And I weep for me.  For repentance.
For the times I have listened to others being put down by someone.
For the times I have been silent and in that way contributed.
For the things I have thought in judgement of others.
And for the things I have said to someone and for the things I have said  behind their backs.

Oh, forgive me Lord
 for the things I have said of people
"behind their backs."

I hope her sharing with us helped to heal.
I hope self acceptance becomes a victory in her life.
I hope she can forgive.

I have been asking the Lord to make me more like Him.
I believe He is bringing me to the realization that first I must see for myself who I am.

I know He will forgive.

EASE DROPPING

I wasn't trying to ease drop. 
And I don't necessarily think they were trying to keep it private.

I came around the corner and she was telling her husband good-bye
   as he was going to be gone for at least a week on a job related trip.

I heard the typical "I love you"
      (I knew and they knew they felt this way about each other but oh so good to say and hear!)
and then the reminder to " Drive Safely"
   
He started to walk away and as he turns she speaks her heart
and this is what causes me to pause;
     

"remember who you are"


The words made me draw a quick breath.
Such a powerful word for him and I suspect it has been spoken many a time in their marriage.


"remember who you are"

• Don't give into peer pressure to do or say things you know you shouldn't say or do.
• 
  
• Don't join in an activity that you know isn't the best choice.
• 
  
• Don't give into the enticement of making more money by compromising your integrity.
• 
  
• Don't put things or prosperity above people.
• 
  
• Don't say things that make you look better at the expense of others.
• 
  
• Don't think you have to be right.  That you have to have the last word.  That you have to win.
• 
  
• Don't be impatient, unkind, or callous to those you work with, meet, or cross paths with.
• Don't be unforgiving or hold a grudge.  Don't be touchy or easily agitated.
• Don't be bitter or grouchy or vain.

"remember who you are"


A man of God.

A sinner saved by grace.

A man greatly loved by his family.

A man blessed by God.

A child of the King.

A man that someday wants to hear "well done, good and faithful servant."

 I am sure that through the years my uncle has found new discoveries of who he is and who he wants to be and, even more importantly,

God revealing to him who He want him to be.

I am also sure that he would say that there have been times he has forgotten.  Times he has been
less than who he knows he is in Christ.  Times of needed repentance.

But it got me to thinking

If I would remember who I am - who God has created me to be

would I be more careful with how I fill my time?
would I take more care to tame my tongue?
to offer my help?
to give more to others?
to praise God more and complain less?
to see the good in others rather than find their faults?
to believe more and fear less?

Someday I am going to ask my aunt what she means when she says it
 but right now

I am asking God what He meant
when He said it to me this morning
through a simple good-bye at the door...

Remember who you are, Sheri.

Blowing in the Wind...

We're planning on a move.  Soon.  Across country.  Again.

Things have changed some with our involvement in Brazil and so we have been kicking around

and praying about our future.  What is needed, what we want to do and when to do it.  

We made plans to stay in Tennessee where two of our children and their spouses are.  We were fine about staying here.  We love our church and the people there.  Can put up with the summer weather knowing that the winters are wonderful.  But work was a factor and it was becoming more of a concern with each passing month as we thought about our future.  Besides, every time we tried to open a door here it seemed to close....

And then Warren got a job offer. A good offer. In Idaho.  Around my parents and two of my sisters and their families.  Closer to our other son and our five grandchildren.  Back to the west that Warren, especially, loves so much.  We talked.  We prayed.  

We are moving toward that with the prayer that God will slam the door shut if it's not to be.  

We are growing more excited with each day although it is mixed with the realization that we have yet more hard good-byes to say.  Now we have people in so many places that we love.  That we miss and will miss. 

With these changes I am also changing this blog - the name and the reason for it. 

 I will keep all of the old posts, mainly because I want  to remember. 

 I will be using this blog, now, for my thoughts and insights into what God is doing through ordinary circumstances in life to teach me. 

For those of you that are not so interested in that, I am also starting a new blog.  It will be about "house stuff".  Both the house we are finishing up here in Tennessee and also about the house we hope to get and transform in Idaho.  You'll find this blog at

 http://sheriyoder.blogspot.com/

I have NOT posted anything on that blog yet - give me a few days!

A new adventure is just around the corner....

The Process

We are in the process of finishing a house so that we can sell it - 

again.

I wondered if we had always done this - 

worked hard at the very end in order to get the house on the market - 

and in thinking about it, 

it IS a pattern!

Only one time had we had the house completely ready to sell when we decided we wanted to move. And we have done this plenty of times.

I'm not having a hard time thinking of selling this house, although I love it, but I hate the last couple of weeks of mess, work and stress.

It looks awful around here.

We have a family room and bathroom that we hadn't even touched until a few weeks ago.

It needed a complete gut and a window added (who would build a room without a window?!).

We have since added the window(which meant cutting through concrete block and brick),
 moved plumbing,
endured the sheetrock stage,
painted the ceiling and walls,
tiled the shower (the grout job from hell),
built a cabinet, have the cabinet painted (working on the doors and drawer fronts),
and have the tile floor down but not grouted in the bathroom (today's project).

Floor coverings coming a week from Monday.  (Yippee!)

It is a mess - 
and not just in that room.
The dirt trails throughout the lower floor of our house and even makes it's way up the stairs.

I know we are on the downward slope now BUT it still feels like quite a list...






We are meeting with a couple that go to our church who just recently came back to the Lord.  They requested that we meet with them - kind of a mentoring time if you will.

Sweetest couple with a big past.  We already love them, we really do.
Love to see them and be with them.  
BUT this last time together was not that wonderful.
As he said "it was brutal".

But as I was moaning over my list of to dos for the house today I was reminded of what Warren had told me on our first remodel

"It has to look worse before it can look better". 

He's been proven right about that.

And today God just spoke to my heart about this couple.

"It has to look worse before it can look better".

They are determined to walk the walk but there is a lot of garbage to clean up first.
A lot of remodeling.
If you've walked with the Lord for any length of time, then you've been there.
There is just a lot of tearing out and building up and the process is messy and not so much fun
but you can't get to the beauty without it.

And this week, I think I'll tell them our story.  You know, the worst
 part- before it got better.
That should encourage them.
If nothing else it will encourage me.

It's a New Day

Really, most of life, whether it is on the mission field or not, is full of ordinary days. They are the hard ones to write about because there is nothing to tell. I did laundry today. I mopped the floors. I cooked a meal. I slept till 7:00. I went on a walk. etc. All things I could have done at home in Cleveland, Tennessee. Those are the hard days. Ordinary - could have lived it in my own house, in my own country, with my own family, kind of days.

Then there are the amazing days where you know God did amazing things but you can't write about them because they involve people and confidences. And people (hopefully) read this blog....

Sometimes you just don't know what to say and yet you have so much to say.....

Today started out as an ordinary day. I woke up an hour earlier than I wanted to, made coffee and breakfast. We headed down to the campus for the morning devotions and then I went for a walk with my friend Ashley. We talked. And talked. And talked. It was iron sharpening iron and before we knew it it was lunch time.

At lunch we found out that they were moving classes downtown. Did we want to go? Yes, we did. Warren hung out with the school and 3 of us ladies hung out in town together. Bonding.

What a great afternoon.

Came home to dinner and then one of the students and I made brownies together. She can't speak english and I can't speak Portuguese but we communicated with the little that we both knew and had a great time. We WILL do it again.

Then we had a ladies study at our house. It was so good to get together and share from God's Word. I'm loving these ladies.

An ordinary day turned anything but.

I'm hoping for another ordinary day tomorrow.....

Loving on Shawna

My status on Facebook last night was this: My day went something like this: 1. no internet in the morning. 2. no electricity when I got back from the gym 3. no shower 4 wrong bus so it took 3 hours instead of the regular 1 1/2 hours 5 bird poops down my back as I am waiting for the light to change at the corner - no change of clothes with me 6. It was raining.
BUT the day wasn't bad - you can't have a whole bad day!

And really the whole day was not bad.

There were things that at the time

didn't feel so fun but that I could end up laughing about

and just recognize that all in all life is good.

And it makes for good stories. I love good stories!

What I didn't share on Facebook was that the day began

with something even worse.

Something that made my heart feel heavy all day.

Something that caused me to ask God "why?".

When the internet finally came on

(and before it went back off again!)

I saw a post and learned Shawna had cancer.

Stage IV.

I don't know Shawna that well myself

but I know more about her then just to say I know "of" her.

She was Kellie's maid of honor.

(I think she has played that role in a lot of weddings

because she is the kind that becomes a friend to all.)

She's been at my home a few times.

I was blessed to get to hear her teach the woman at our church

several times with an amazing ability to share her love for Christ.

I know about some terrible, beyond what anyone

should have to go through,

kinds of things that this young woman has already endured

and came through shining for Jesus.

I guess you would say I admire her from a distance.

And now she, along with her new husband and children,

are about to begin another hard battle.

Literally a fight for her life.

God does not answer my question of why.

I don't know why

but I have a feeling that He

is going to shine brightly in her life during this time.

Please join us in prayer as we hold her up

to the one who knows the answer to my question.

The one who loves Shawna more than any of us.

It makes bird poop on my shoulder and down my back pretty laughable.

If you would like to follow Shawna's fight against cancer

this is the link: http://lovingonshawna.com/

Our Dental Experience in Brazil

Yesterday I had a wisdom tooth removed by a dentist here in Brazil. I had prayed and asked God for a dentist because the tooth had broke while I was in the states and the dentist there had told me it would have to be surgically removed. He suggested I do it in Brazil because of the cost and our finances :). I didn't do it last year because of the knee problems I was having so I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. Anyway, I prayed and one day when I was at the gym here at the condo, I met a lady working out that was very helpful and wanted to talk "English" with me. Turned out she was a dentist! She gave me all the information (phone number, e-mail, etc) and at some point stated that she wanted a recipe for cookies (they are well known here!). That weekend I made some and decided to take some to them . They ended up having us (with the rest of her family) for Easter dinner! This past weekend we made arrangement for dental work.

She picked us up at our apartment building (we're in the same complex but different buildings) and planned to take us to work with her the whole day. She said she had a few other appointments (her own father being her last) but most of the day she had reserved for us. BUT first we needed to stop at her parents house as she didn't have water in her apartment to take a shower that morning after working out in the gym!

Wow! Her parents house was amazing! Custom built for them about 13 years ago in this wonderful (expensive) neighborhood that we had no idea you would even find in Rio. The details put into their house was, for me, so fun to see.

BUT I am way off the subject, am I not?!!!

They took their time showing us around, gave us breakfast and made us feel at home while our dentist, Marianna, took her shower. Her mother was trying to learn English so we had fun with that as we did a mixture of Portuguese and English to “try” and carry conversations with her.

Then off to the office – We got there and she had a few other appointments so we just sat in the waiting room and waited. Then she got to me. I had also told her that at some point we would like our teeth cleaned and checked for cavities, etc so she did that first for me.

No cavities!!!!!

No, she doesn't quite use the same techniques as the dentists in the states but all was good. Then it was time to pull the tooth.

She did an x-ray. Then she numbed up the mouth. She had to do that several times before the job was done because that tooth didn't want to come out!!!! She did have to do the surgery, just as the doctor in the states had told me. It didn't hurt. It was just a lot of pressure and being uncomfortable as she twisted and lifted on it. (She had to go underneath since there wasn't enough on the top to grab).

Finally it was out!!!! She stitched it up, cleaned me up and I went back to wait while she worked on her dad and Warren. I must add that while she was pulling the tooth her father took Warren out to lunch!!! They are a great family!

Warren didn't have any cavities either!!! And it always feels good to have your teeth newly cleaned!

We were done. It was time to pay. She wouldn't take anything although she would like a package of some of her favorite things from the states. I asked for a list. She is being kind. It will be one great box when I get done with it! She also handed me a bag of fruit and yogurt to take home so I would have something she thought I could eat last night. I couldn't but I'll explain why coming up.

Then we headed for home. It's a long ways. And first she needed to stop and pick up her son, stop at the store (she came with a bag for us, again, of fresh bread, and icecream for me!) Then we headed to the pharmacy to get pills for me. Lots of pills. I'm not sure what they were all for but by the time we got home I couldn't wait for the pain pill. The numbness had started to wear off and I was hurting. Bad. And not because of the missing tooth but because of my tongue. She had told me afterwards to be very careful not to bite my tongue and I thought I was BUT I have this huge sore on the side of it where I either bit it or got it caught in my partial.

Still, today, I can barely eat and it hurts so bad to talk because it rubs on my teeth. Warren said it looks like ground beef!!!! The mouth does heal fast though, right?!

I did eat a little breakfast of oatmeal this morning (so I could take the pills) but I won't be talking much today. A good thing Warren is going to Alex's for the day to work on his cabinets again.

Marianna has invited us to a birthday party this weekend and her father wants to take us sightseeing on Sunday morning (church is in the evening). We also have plans for me to teach her how to make cookies :) and with all the other things she said she would like us to do before we leave, well, there just won't be time.

I know that God answered my prayer for a dentist. I was just asking for a good one. One to do the work, at a good price, with expertess. He did that. But then, we always ask too little of God.

He also gave us a family of friends.

(I went to take pictures and my battery was dead. Bummer.)

Smile!

We were sitting at the table at a suco (juice) bar when I saw her approach.

She was headed straight for us Americans, after all, we are an easy target.

They believe that all Americans are rich.

What she didn't realize was that we've seen it before.

Poor, dirty beggers are all over the streets of Rio.

Some simply beg and others have small things to sell.

She had an object made out of a soda can that she was peddling.

We didn't even know what it was suppose to be.

She was young and dirty.

I recognized the smell of having not showered for some time

as she got closer to us.

It always makes me sad. But in this case it especially bothered me because of what I saw.

When she opened her mouth to speak I saw that she was missing her two front, bottom teeth.

That impacted me because 30+ years ago I lost my four front,

bottom teeth in a car accident.

I was able to have crowns put in right away so, unless I tell people, no one knows.

But this past year I had some problems with one of them

and so I am in the process of having a implant done. Muito money!!!!

Which means, right now, I am wearing a partial and I hate it!

And I complain about it.

My tongue is constantly playing with it and no matter how hard I try

to train myself to leave it alone I haven't been successful!

I'm also very self conscience of having it out (with one tooth missing)

even in front of Warren.

Really, I don't even like to look in the mirror without it! (vanity, I guess)

Even though we are having to watch our pennies these days we found it to be a necessity to have the implant done....

And then seeing her I realized how much I still have.

How much I take for granted.

How much I assume is still my right to have.

I've told many people here in Brazil (when asked about our economy in the U.S.)

that we Americans (myself included) really don't know how to be poor.

We can be losing our jobs, our income, and still drink our fancy coffees, have our own car, buy processed foods for ease, have cable TV, own our computer, central heat and air-conditioning, own a washing machine and dryer, membership at a gym, kids in sports or dance, good meals out, etc because we've grown accustomed to it. We know no other way. We think we should be able to have and do what we've always had and done.

And then I saw her teeth, or rather her lack of teeth, and it has me thinking.

There are things I just assume I should have. Almost like they are owed to me.

And forget how blessed I am.

I forget to be truly thankful.

I forget that maybe I don't deserve it after all.

I forget that having all of my teeth is a gift.

I am a rich American.

For Today

Warren's brother-in-law died last night.

Totally unexpected. Too young to be gone. Too soon for all the loved ones that remain here.

I watched a good friend of mine go through the grieving process after losing her husband and

felt that I learned so much from watching her...

but now, once again, I have no idea what to say or do. Death is too hard on the people that are left to live life. There is no words that you can say to someone that will bring comfort for a loss that feels as though it is strangling them.... where they are almost wish it would.

Here we are in Brazil. Feeling so helpless and far away. We had thought the day could come

when we would lose someone we loved while we were at such a distance. But the thought of it

was so much easier than the reality of it.

I had the sudden rush of wanting to be with my family. Not wanting to lose a second of time with any of them. Of course, this isn't possible. Of course, even if there were not such a distance we would continue living life in and out of each other's presence.

But for today, I will treasure more the lives of those that I love so much. I will pray more for them and take joy in their voices on the phone, their comments on Facebook and just in my knowledge that they are a part of my life.

For today we will mourn the loss of a man that made Warren's sister so happy. A man that was a great father and grandfather. A man that was friends with all.

I can only picture him smiling. I can only picture him living life to the fullest.

This is the man we shall mourn today.

Rest in peace, Dennis. You are greatly loved and will be greatly missed.

A Note to Calvary Corvallis

As we sat with the group of people about ready to receive the first message while at the Carnival Retreat in Campo Mourao I couldn't help but smile as I looked around at the group of people that have come from different Calvary Chapels throughout Brazil. It is a large turn-out.

Tim Rogers then stood up and welcomed everyone and prayed for the time together. During the prayer he thanked the Lord for what He has done in Brazil. Tim choked up. Suddenly I understood his feelings. He was looking at 11 years of he and his family's service in Brazil as he gazed at that crowd. I know that Tim would give God the glory, and rightly so, but I also know that God chose to use this man because he and his family we're willing to take that step of faith.,
.
Eleven years. Some rewarding and some just plain hard but now the fruit of his labor was before him.

My next thoughts were of Calvary Corvallis. How I wish that you could have seen this small ( in comparison to the whole, for it is just some of the members of the churches represented here) portion of the work that you have partnered in throughout these 11 years. Many lives saved and changed. Many people healed and restored. Many leaders raised up. Many families saved from ruin.

And much more work to do.

But God is faithful.

May we all be as steadfast in our callings.

Meeting our new Neighbors

Remember how your mother always warned you
(and maybe still does!)
to be careful what kind of underwear you wear
because you never know when you may
be in an accident?
As a freshman in high school that came to my mind one day
as I waited in the emergency room
following a car accident.
I hope they were presentable.
I can't remember anymore.
But I do remember thinking about it.

Well, yesterday, I added a new one:
Be careful what you wear to paint in
because you may end up on the nightly news!

Yep, that's what happened.
Both Warren and I.
In some of the worst clothes we own.
My hair was a mess and....
Well, that's not really what this story is about.

Last week, for Warren's birthday,
I bought him a house.
Okay, that's not really true.
It just happen to close on his birthday.
Anyway, we bought it to try our hand at the rental
market while at the same time, hopefully,
helping out our monthly income.

The house is in pretty good condition seeing that it was built in '77
so the list isn't that long of what we need to do to get it rent able.
First of all, wallpaper needed to be removed (my job)
and painting needed to begin. (Warren's job)

When Warren got to the Master bedroom he noticed a box
on the closet shelf
and soon I was summoned to take a look.
Two (2) grenades.
After deciding it probably wasn't a good idea to throw them in the garbage
(we don't have trash pick-up there anyway!)
we decided we would get the number for the police the next day
and call them then.
We didn't think it warranted a 911 call.

A bit later Warren informed me that the police were on their way.
He had remembered that there was a phone book out in the trash pile
and got the number for the police so he had called them.
Then we got a phone call.
We were to exit the house until they got there.

Man, that was going to slow down the work!

Soon, we saw two police cars pull up. (they always come in twos)
They took Warren back in to check things out
and came back with mixed opinions.
But joint in the opinion that
the bomb squad needed to be called.
Police continued to come.
(at one time I counted 10 police cars lining our street)
and then the chief (or so we think)
from the bomb squad.
All of a sudden we were told to get in our vehicle and drive down the road a ways.
Crime scene - do not enter tape was strung across our property line.
We were told they were smoke grenades.
They weren't as concerned about those.
BUT in the box (of which Warren hadn't taken out to examine)
were two metal canisters of ether.
We were also told it was enough to blow up our house
but not enough to evacuate the neighborhood.
(not sure how much that would have to be!)
They knew they were old because of the metal casing.
Ether is no longer packaged in metal because it is prone
to deteriorate and then leak.
Ours was doing just that.
It also crystallizes with age.
And there lies the danger.
More of the bomb squad was called along with the truck and
trailer that carries "the canister".
"The canister" has a hydraulic lift on it for the lid and also for the
tub that lies inside of it.
Here the hazardous material is laid and then
carefully (with the use of the hydraulic lift)
put into the protective canister.
We watched as two bomb squad, fully armored, guys went into our house
to retrieve the explosives.
One man simply used a flashlight to direct the other man's carefully
placed feet as he carried that
"which could blow up our house"!
Two trips were made to get it out.
After it was safely in the canister Warren was asked if we knew of anything
else that would give us concern in the house.
Warren mentioned a box that he had seen in the crawlspace under the house.
Sure enough!
Some type of flares and different firework type of things
that could definitely explode with the heat that we get in a
Tennessee summer.

About 3 hours from start to finish we were told we could once again
enter our house.

We, along with one of our new neighbors,
were interviewed for a piece on
Chattanooga's channel 3 news.
Thus the concern for what I was wearing.

All in all
we never felt afraid.
We didn't realize that we had been in any danger until
we were already in a safe zone.
All in all
it's made for some pretty good
story telling.
I love stories.
That's what makes life interesting.

I did wear the same thing when we went back today.
We were painting after all.
And surely that was a once-in-a-lifetime thing!!!!!

These are not pictures of our house on fire
(it was still standing when we left today)
I just added them because Kellie said pictures make for
a more interesting post!

A Savior is Born!!!!

It's easy to forget that this day is not about you and me.

That it's not about the snow falling outside, as I write this,
or the cinnamon roll I just ate.

It's not about the music in the background or the good meal and family time ahead for us.

It's not even about the presents.

I forget that sometime.
And when all of the above doesn't fall into place you'll hear me say

"it just doesn't feel like Christmas".


It was a normal day for this world, as far as the people were concerned.
A day of work, of routine. Nothing special. Or so it seemed.

And yet God, in His infinite wisdom, chose that particular day to provide a way
of salvation for you and me.
And He chose it in a form of a baby.

And He didn't plan it to be "special" in the ways
that we would think it needed to be.
He had Our Saviour born to a very young, inexperienced couple.
He had the birth take place in the discomfort of a stable.
A smelly, dirty place intended for animals.
Certainly not built with the intention that a King would be born there.

He made a grand announcement,
not to the high society of the times,
but rather to a bunch of poor, dirty shepherds.

And then He put this young couple, with a small child,
on the run for their lives.
Having to trust fully in Him.
That what He had said would come to pass.

Yes, the wise men came to worship Him eventually
but I don't recall hearing of them at the foot of the cross
as He was dying.

And, now, you and I are asked to fully trust Him.
That what He said will come to pass.

No, the day doesn't always feel like what it is.
But it is what it was meant to be.

Let us not forget.

Listen and You Can Hear It Too

Warren sang to me during our wedding. A song he had written just for me.
Girls dreams of that sort of romantic thing!
Most every anniversary since, he has sung to me "our song".
I beg for it.
And I tear up every time.
It is my song. Written with me in mind.
So very long ago he had used this song to express himself to me.
My favorite line?

"The feelings that I have are like no others I have known."

What is it about music that stirs such emotion in us?
It ignites feelings of passion,
it soothes troubled hearts,
it calms a crying baby,
it cleanses the soul
and it is one of the greatest forms of worship.


I remember singing to the kids when they were little.
I sang about all sorts of things.
Jesus loves you. Jesus loves the little children.
And an all time favorite of mine -
You are my sunshine.

Sometimes I even made up songs as I sang. It all depended on the situation!
I continue to sing over my grandchildren.
Usually when no one else is around!

To hold a child and sing over him.
Oh, the innocence that you recognize as you look into their little faces.
I would study them as I gazed upon them. Memorizing every little detail.

Pondering in my heart.
Sometimes there would be smiles and sometimes huge tears rolling down my cheek.
Both from the awesome responsibility of being called
Mommy or Grandma
to such an extra-ordinary child as the one I was holding at that very moment.

I had dreams for each one.
Dreams because of my great love for them.
I had plans -
and they were all for the good of that particular child.
I wanted nothing but good for them
while at the same time I realized,
being an adult and all,
that having the good plan
would sometimes mean tears in their life.

And I also realized that they wouldn't always understand my intentions.
Not at the time anyway.
But I would press on because I knew that someday, hopefully,
they would understand my motive:

My unexplainable love for them.


I sang over them and marveled at the fact
that I was chosen to be an instrumental part
of this little person's life.

So blessed I am, I realized.

I was reminded of all of this when God brought this verse to mind:

Zep 3:17

The LORD your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing."

If I listen carefully I can almost hear the melody......

What's love got to do with it?

While we were in Curitiba I watched way to many movies
and to much TV on the internet.
I also did a lot of reading, studying and talking.
What else is a person suppose to do when sitting
with one leg elevated because of an injury?!

Anyway, I watched this show,
not necessarily one I would recommend to anyone,
that was about a family.
Right in the beginning of the show the father of this family dies of a heart attack
and after his death secrets of his life begin to be revealed.
Like - he had another family. A mistress for 20+ years.

The family is pretty shaken from this revelation
but the one hit the hardest by it is, of course,
his wife. The mother. The widow.

She had always thought, and so had everyone else,
that they had one of those wonderful, loved filled marriages.
Now, understandably so, she is wondering what the truth is.
Had her whole adult life been a lie?

In one scene she is crying. Hard, gut retching tears.
Her daughter tries to comfort her by saying,

"you know he loved you."

And she replied,

"yes, but he didn't give up anything to do it!"

I was so struck by that line that I paused the show and wrote it down.

It impacted me.

The idea that you need to give something up
in order to love.

I cheered on that romantic notion. Of course, loving is about dying to self.
It didn't take a genius to see that this particular man
hadn't loved at any expense to himself.
Just when it suited his purposes.
Just as long as he got something out of it.
And - is that really loving at all?

So it made me think:
Does love always cost something?

It is always best to go to the source in order
to know the truth
and so I went to God.
The source of love.
No, He is more than that.

God is love.

1Jo 4:8

He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love.

Wow! In looking further I saw that He had definitely given up a lot to love me.

To love you. Eph 2:4-10, I John 4:10

But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them.

In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins.

God, because He is so gentle with me,
left me to stew on that for a few months.
And then, a couple of weeks ago,
He brought it to the fore-fronts of my mind again.

I read this:

what Richard Stearns points out from Scripture, from David’s example and the widow’s two mites, is that it doesn’t matter how much we give, what matters is what it costs. What matters is our faith.

Our current giving costs us nothing. The bottom line is our current giving does not require us to live by faith. Now, please hear me that God calls all of us to different things. This is why we CANNOT COMPARE our giving with someone else’s. All we can do is look at ourselves and ask, Does my current giving cost me anything? Does my current giving require me to life by faith? And, it’s worth noting, that this is true of all giving–our time, our talents, and our treasure. It’s so much bigger than money, but where our treasure is there our heart will be too.

http://www.karipatterson.com/?p=1115

I am challenged to consider my monetary giving.

I do give but only to the point of it pinching a little.

I don't allow it to affect my life too much.

But beyond that, I believe that God is asking me to consider more.

The entirety of my life.

My time, my talents, my interests. What I invest in.

To mature in my love for Him. To allow it to cost me.

Mar 8:34

And when he had called the people [unto him] with his disciples also, he said unto them, Whosoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me.

Dying to self. Jesus' greatest act of love.

One Word

Last night, at our going away party,
John asked the people here at the church
to either tell us or write down
something we have said or done to bless them personally.
Each one is a treasure to us.
And truly humbled us.

One young woman hugged me
while saying into my ear,
"There is one word I want to say.
Restoration.
That's what you have taught
me is possible
with God."

And suddenly, the pain and the tears were all worth it.
Once again.

Thank you, Lord.

I will restore to you the years the swarming locust have eaten.... Joel 2:25

Not That I Know A Thing.....

The following is a response to my sister and brother-in-law who are considering a move
in order to be involved in a ministry they feel God may be calling them too. Having left Corvallis 1 1/2 years ago I realize I am still a newbie at all of the "ministry" stuff. I don't claim to have the answers. This is only my thoughts and revelations since coming to Brazil. I thought I would share with all of you-


When we were about one month out from leaving for Brazil last year,
Kellie asked me what my expectations were.
I, being the wise mother and woman of God that I am (!) replied,

"I don't have any expectations."

I remember her face and her kind answer.
"Mom, you do have expectations. I understand what you are feeling. When we moved to Tennessee I didn't think that I had expectations either
but then as things began to happen, or not happen, as I thought they would
I realized I did have expectations. You DO have expectations."

She was right.

Of course, Warren and I are all for hearing from the Lord and acting on it.
I would never want to discourage anyone from that.
There is great reward in doing what the Lord lays on ones heart to do.

However, the reality is this: It is not easy.

It spurred us on as we were getting ready to leave to know that people were behind us, encouraging us and telling us how wonderful
they thought we were in doing what we were doing. I'm sure we needed that at the time.
I'm also sure that there was pride involved that God would deal with later :).

And then the day came when we had done it.
The business was sold, the house was gone, good byes had been said
and we were sitting thousands of miles away from what we had called home
and there was no one there with us to tell us how "wonderful" we were.
No one else to live this strange life but us. And it didn't (and hasn't) always felt good.

Sometimes I have wanted to quit.
Sometimes I have thought people owed me more, God owed me more,
because of what we had given up. (just being honest here).

Let me warn you that being in the ministry makes you more susceptible to being hurt.
I know this because ministry IS people.
We sin.
We say things we shouldn't. We do things we shouldn't.
We leave things unsaid that we should say and leave things undone that we should do.
We don't live up to others expectations. We don't live up to our own

I think the biggest expectation that I had, and didn't realize that I had,
was that I would suddenly be more spiritual.
A better Christian. More in love with God.

I wasn't.

It took me a little while to admit that to myself.
I was the same person with the same faults and failures. The same tendencies to sin.
I make mistakes and they are now even more noticeable because I am "in ministry"
and I'm not "suppose" to fail or sin. I am not "suppose" to let others down.
And there will be criticism. From others but even more so from yourself.

I guess I say all of this not so much to discourage you from ministry
but rather to encourage you to be honest with yourselves.
Be sure it is the Lord and not some notion that life will be greater, easier by doing it.

Serving, truly serving, is giving up your life to people that may treat you as servants.
They won't always appreciate you. Some of them may not even like you.

Ministry is learning what it really means to trust the Lord for financial provision
while all the while learning that what we think we need
is not always what God thinks we need.

Ministry is filled with many ordinary days.
Lots of days of ordinary things that don't make for good stories to tell those back home.
Days that make you wonder what your purpose is - why you left it all.

And the life you use to have, the one you left behind, it goes on without you.
As it should. You wouldn't want it any other way. And yet - it's hard.
It's hard to feel you no longer belong.

Before I have you believing that we regret our decision or that our lives have been
full of difficulties and hardships
let me assure you that is not the case.

We have met amazing people.
We have made some wonderful friends.
People we love so much. People that have shown so much love to us.

We have had opportunities to do and see things that we would have never imagined.

We have experienced God working through us
when we had neither the strength or the abilities needed.

We have seen God provide financially through miracles.

We believe we are living God's best for us right now and we wouldn't trade it.

There has been such joy.

To stay or go?

The answer, and the joy, lies in obedience.

Either way.

A Simple Song

My sisters: Dori, Sandee, Me and Joni

Earlier today it was recommended to me
that I listen to a song on YouTube.

Although it was a familiar song to me

it wasn't one I knew well and certainly not one from my childhood.
But in hearing it, for whatever reason, emotions welled up inside of me.

Good emotions.

Ones of security and safety.
Of loving and being loved.
Remembering.

Although I am happy to be at this stage of life
there are times when those feelings come over me
and I am washed in the joy of innocence,
the excitement of discovery, the warmth of belonging,
and the freedom of being young.

My parents: Keith & Delores Miller

I was blessed with a wonderful childhood.

Parents that loved each other (and still do!).
Parents that didn't seek after riches
but instead sought to be rich in the things that mattered.

Dad worked hard and if there were times we were poor, I didn't know it.
No, we didn't always have the newest toys or the latest designer jeans
but what we may of lacked financially was small in comparison to what we had.

Dad and Mom made hard choices like selling a successful business in order
to take a lower paying job so Dad could be at home more.
They both made the decision for Mom to be "a stay at home Mom".

Family was decidedly more important
then driving a fancy car or
Mom having a closet full of dresses and shoes.
Or a large retirement plan.

Oh sure, there were times of longing for "things"
but I don't remember dwelling on that.

What I do remember is a house full of laughter,
A Mom that was my greatest confidante
and many friends & family around our kitchen table.

Sitting on the ice cream freezer while Dad hand cranked it.
Stirring the thickening that would become gravy.
My hair blowing in the wind on a quick motorcycle ride around the block.
Husking the corn on the last day of summer vacation.
Drying dishes while Mom put away leftovers and one of the sisters washed.
Mom singing to her latest made-up song
or whistling an old hymn.
Singing.
Dad pushing me on the swing.
A gentle spanking that made me cry
because it hurt my feelings rather than my bottom.
Crazy made-up plays that the parents had to watch.
The smell of a freshly cut lawn.
Saturday night baths and Lost In Space.
Playing Dutch Blitz late at night because Mom wanted to play one more hand.
There were always games.
And always there was talking. Much talking.
And laughter.

And people - did I mention the people.
Our house was always full of people.

Both of my parents are warm and friendly.
Dad is good in a group and never knows a stranger.
Mom is more of a "one on one" type of person.
Looking back I wonder if some of the boyfriends us girls had
stuck around as long as they did because they wanted to
talk with Mom. No kidding.
Dad could easily get acquainted with anyone but Mom could truly know them.

And our friends wanted to be there.
Every Sunday we went to church and Dad faithfully
would drive around picking up our friends
so they could go with us.
And then, after church, they were just a part of the family for the day
because, I suppose, that's just how it was suppose to be on Sundays.

I don't remember not loving Jesus.
Oh sure, I had to come to a decision to make Him my Savior
at some point in my life but I just always loved Him.

I had heard about Him for as long as I could remember.
Bible story books. Singing. Praying.
Still today my parents encourage me in things of the Lord.

Through the years they have supported me in unbelievably hard situations.
They have encouraged forgiveness when others wouldn't have.
They have given me an example of loving
when it's difficult as well as when it's easy.
They have shown me that faith is to be practiced in the most difficult of times.
And I have learned what it means to follow hard after the Lord from them.

A simple faith? Simple people?
Maybe. But real.
Very, very real.

My journey of faith began with them.

I am forever grateful.

So many memories from a simple song played on YouTube.

Come On In.....

It was almost an eerie sound in our house this morning....
Quiet. Absolutely quiet.
Well, except for the ticking of a clock.

It seemed so to us because just a few hours previously it had been full of activity -
music, laughter, talking and even a few tears.

People spread throughout our home, enjoying one another
and, more importantly, enjoying a time of meeting together
to hear from the Lord and to have fellowship with Him.
The service was wonderful
and Warren felt your prayers.

This is taken from the very back of the sanctuary.

What you can't see is the people off to the right

and in the front.

Studying God's Word

Worshiping

Wonderful worship...

Warren having just finished the teaching.
His translator is to his left.

Communion

That's right - we have made the church our home for the next 2 months.
After being here a few days we decided that it would be easier access for us
by foot to grocery stores, restrauants, coffee shops, buses
and most importantly the people, if we stayed here.
John and Flavia have made it clear that we are welcome to use their house
while they are gone -
and if the temperature gets unbearable
(this building tends to get cold, we are told!)
or for whatever reason we may think it a good idea,
we may accept that offer.

But, for now, this is our home.
And we couldn't be happier about it.

the kitchen

the living/dining area
see the stairs at the end of the room?
They lead to the sanctuary and office.

the other side of the livingroom
we sometimes watch a movie here and meet with people
but most of our time is spent in the office upstairs.
The LR tends to be the coldest part of the house-
well, that and the kitchen!

our room
The house actually has 4 bedrooms (the other three are used for children's classrooms)
Each has it's own bath.

our bathroom - the shower is just off to the right

I guess I forgot to download a picture of the office.
Our favorite room and where we spend most of our awake time.
I'm sure before we leave here there will be a picture
or two taken of us here.
We're surrounded by John's books with a desk in the center of the room -
two computers on top of the desk so as not to cause any arguments!!

We had the joy of having people individually stop by throughout the week.
(Warren even got a few going out for coffee times!)
Bible study was here on Thursday night.
We went to a couples dinner on Saturday night
(where we spoke briefly and enjoyed wonderful food!)
And yesterday was busy with morning and evening services.

We loved all the people time!!!

As far as the times in between?
We spent a good portion of it in this very room.
The day we were leaving for Brazil I had injured my hamstring on the left leg.
It finally caught up with me last week and I could barely walk.
So I spent most of the week icing, heating, up on pillows
and generally over-all babying it.

It's much better today.

So if you want me to tell you about the week
be prepared
to hear about Season 2 of the Gilmore Girls,
a little about Everybody loves Raymond,
a Beth Moore Bible study (wonderful),
a few key sentences I'm learning from our first Portuguese lesson,
and what all my friends on Facebook were doing.....

You get the idea!

So, although I'm still trying to be gentle with the leg and stay off of it,
I'm heading out to explore a couple of blocks around our new home.

RIGHT NOW!

I need this people.