Things in Peru don't always happen exactly as they happen in the US. On Sunday after church, I was asked to play violin in a wedding this Saturday. Not only was I asked less than a week before the event, but I was also asked by Bany, the groom's niece, not by either of the people actually getting married. So I asked her what I should play. "Oh, whatever. Something you know." After some more probing, I discovered that classical was the preferred genre. Something classical...hm...
Last night we had practice. I got to the church, toting my violin and sheet music for Canon in D, only to discover that I was one of 6 people either playing or singing in the wedding. Everyone else was there to practice the worship songs (which also apparently were left up to the discretion of the musicians). After finally deciding on some songs, Bany was asking me if I knew them. This was my first clue that I might be in for more than I bargained for. Unfortunately, I didn't know 2 of the songs. However, I learned them fairly well throughout the course of the night as we practiced them several times each. Which was a good thing. So apparently, I'm playing during the worship time too because, according to Bany, it doesn't make sense for me to be up there and then leave the stage in the middle of everything. I hope this is okay...
At the end of our practice, we decided to play a song that I have loved to sing since I was here last time. It's called Eres Todopoderoso. The chorus goes like this:
You are all-powerful
You are great and majestic
You are mighty and unconquerable
And there is no one else like You.
After playing soft, peaceful wedding songs all night, we let loose. And as I was standing there, playing for all I was worth, the voice of my violin mixing with Spanish worship, an electric guitar, a bass and drums, playing for the sheer joy of playing and worshiping, all of a sudden I had a worship moment when I knew that God was truly there and so much bigger than I often realize. I was overwhelmed with the sense of being back here, of worshiping God in San Jeronimo again with my Peruvian family. And I realized that only God could have brought me back here. Only He could have kept the vision alive in my heart. Only He is big and powerful enough to fulfill His purposes in and through us. Only He is great and majestic enough to do all that He has done, not only in my life but in each and every one of our lives. Only God is todopoderoso.
And then I came home and sat out in my backyard on the swingset with my roommates, layered up against the cold, and watched a beautiful lunar eclipse. Never mind that the clouds covered it up partway through. It was still beautiful and a wonderful reminder again of the power and majesty of our God to create something that intricately balanced and amazing.
La unica razon de mi adoracion eres Tu, mi Jesus...
(You are the only reason I worship, Jesus...)
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
The stuff of life
I was reminded this week that I am here for the ups and downs of life and faith in Peru. I am here for the stuff of life, regardless of what that may be. Two separate experiences throughout the week reminded me of this.
Wednesday night was the closing service and program of the annual leadership school that meets for about a month each January and February. This school includes 2 weeks of intensive
discipleship training and then about 2 weeks of outreaches to villages where the national church has church plants. In Peru, communication about event times and the actual starting times of these events isn't always very clear. We decided to be on the safe side and be early, with the end result that I got to help in the kitchen for about an hour or so before the program started. Of course, any good Mennonite event, no matter where it is, needs to include some sort of food. So I got to work with some of my friends from the various churches to make ham and cheese sandwiches and serve a pasta dish to the leadership school participants. Who knew that working in the kitchen could be so fun! :)
It was such a blessing to be at the program that night. The leadership school was very unique this year in that most of the participants were from the churches that have been recently planted in the various villages of the Andes Mountains. Many of these people were quite young, both physically and spiritually. A significant percentage of them have been in the church only a few months. Some were not even baptized when they came to the school. And yet, to see their faith and dedication to God
was such a blessing. It was beautiful to hear their testimonies of praying for people and sharing their own newfound faith with them. What a blessing to know that these brothers and sisters in Christ have received this foundational leadership training that will serve them for the rest of their lives! I have been so blessed to hear the stories of Peruvian faith this week on different occasions. The commitment and faith that these people have challenges me. I was reminded as I watched the dramatizations of what had happened during the outreach part of the school of the passage in 1 Corinthians 1:26-29. "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not
many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him." I enjoyed seeing friends again that night, but more than that, I enjoyed seeing and being blessed and challenged by the faith of Peruvian believers! These pictures are of the skits that the participants put on as well as the worship time we had together.
The second event of the week that reminded me that I am here for the ups and downs of life actually happened today. When our friend Marga came to the house this morning to help us out, she informed me that my friend Ronal's dad had died the day before yesterday and the burial was today. We decided to go together, since both of us wanted to go but neither wanted to go alone. This was my first Peruvian burial. It was, according to the pastor's wife, who we met up with when we got there, different from an evangelical burial service, since Ronal's dad was Catholic. Nevertheless, it was definitely an experience in the stuff of life and the common experience of death. We got there about 45 minutes after it was supposed to start, which didn't seem to be that big of a deal. The funeral procession was on foot. At the head of the group was the casket with about 6 pallbearers. Behind that was an assortment of friends and family and a band which played as we processed up the mountain to the gravesite. At several points during the trek, we paused for some reason which remains unknown to me, as we were closer toward the back of the procession and couldn't really hear well. When I say trek, I mean it really was a trek. Part of the way we were walking through the cemetery, trying not to step on graves, even though at times there was only about a six-inch wide strip of grass on which to walk. The other part we were walking on dirt paths carved into the side of the mountain. But always up. Steeply up. After we had climbed nearly the whole way up the mountain, we reached the gravesite, a hole in the red-brown Peruvian soil. The Catholic minister who was there prayed some ritual prayers, then Pastor Ruben, the head of the Mennonite churches, prayed a prayer for the family as well. Each of the children who wanted to shared some final words in tribute to their father. Then, they were given some time to say a final goodbye before the casket was lowered into the ground with ropes. Shovels and picks were produced from somewhere and the grave was filled in. Many people had brought flowers and threw them into the grave, burying them between the layers of dirt. Various people helped to fill in the grave, including the children. And then we all went back down the mountain, where we were able to give our sympathy to the family (which is hard enough in English, let alone Spanish). There was no set time for anyone to leave. There was soda and chicha (traditional corn beer) and everyone just kind of stood or sat around and talked, leaving when they wanted to.
Death here is definitely a normal part of life. Yes, it's sad. That transcends cultures. But it is recognized as something normal we will all face some day. No need to dress up for a funeral. No way to avoid it and sterilize yourself from human emotion or experience. No neatly going on your way while the funeral director lowers the casket into the grave. And no denying that life goes on after the body is in the ground. We were standing around afterwards talking and laughing about various things that had nothing to do with the funeral whatsoever.
And so I am here. In life, in faith, in joy, in sorrow, for better or for worse. And God is here. He is in the stuff of life. He is in the faith of the Peruvian believers, in the experience of death, in the details of everyday life, in the joyful exuberant smiles of the kids I've begun to get to know, in the relationships that are being formed and strengthened. God is here. And that is beautiful.
Wednesday night was the closing service and program of the annual leadership school that meets for about a month each January and February. This school includes 2 weeks of intensive
discipleship training and then about 2 weeks of outreaches to villages where the national church has church plants. In Peru, communication about event times and the actual starting times of these events isn't always very clear. We decided to be on the safe side and be early, with the end result that I got to help in the kitchen for about an hour or so before the program started. Of course, any good Mennonite event, no matter where it is, needs to include some sort of food. So I got to work with some of my friends from the various churches to make ham and cheese sandwiches and serve a pasta dish to the leadership school participants. Who knew that working in the kitchen could be so fun! :)It was such a blessing to be at the program that night. The leadership school was very unique this year in that most of the participants were from the churches that have been recently planted in the various villages of the Andes Mountains. Many of these people were quite young, both physically and spiritually. A significant percentage of them have been in the church only a few months. Some were not even baptized when they came to the school. And yet, to see their faith and dedication to God
was such a blessing. It was beautiful to hear their testimonies of praying for people and sharing their own newfound faith with them. What a blessing to know that these brothers and sisters in Christ have received this foundational leadership training that will serve them for the rest of their lives! I have been so blessed to hear the stories of Peruvian faith this week on different occasions. The commitment and faith that these people have challenges me. I was reminded as I watched the dramatizations of what had happened during the outreach part of the school of the passage in 1 Corinthians 1:26-29. "Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not
many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things - and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him." I enjoyed seeing friends again that night, but more than that, I enjoyed seeing and being blessed and challenged by the faith of Peruvian believers! These pictures are of the skits that the participants put on as well as the worship time we had together.The second event of the week that reminded me that I am here for the ups and downs of life actually happened today. When our friend Marga came to the house this morning to help us out, she informed me that my friend Ronal's dad had died the day before yesterday and the burial was today. We decided to go together, since both of us wanted to go but neither wanted to go alone. This was my first Peruvian burial. It was, according to the pastor's wife, who we met up with when we got there, different from an evangelical burial service, since Ronal's dad was Catholic. Nevertheless, it was definitely an experience in the stuff of life and the common experience of death. We got there about 45 minutes after it was supposed to start, which didn't seem to be that big of a deal. The funeral procession was on foot. At the head of the group was the casket with about 6 pallbearers. Behind that was an assortment of friends and family and a band which played as we processed up the mountain to the gravesite. At several points during the trek, we paused for some reason which remains unknown to me, as we were closer toward the back of the procession and couldn't really hear well. When I say trek, I mean it really was a trek. Part of the way we were walking through the cemetery, trying not to step on graves, even though at times there was only about a six-inch wide strip of grass on which to walk. The other part we were walking on dirt paths carved into the side of the mountain. But always up. Steeply up. After we had climbed nearly the whole way up the mountain, we reached the gravesite, a hole in the red-brown Peruvian soil. The Catholic minister who was there prayed some ritual prayers, then Pastor Ruben, the head of the Mennonite churches, prayed a prayer for the family as well. Each of the children who wanted to shared some final words in tribute to their father. Then, they were given some time to say a final goodbye before the casket was lowered into the ground with ropes. Shovels and picks were produced from somewhere and the grave was filled in. Many people had brought flowers and threw them into the grave, burying them between the layers of dirt. Various people helped to fill in the grave, including the children. And then we all went back down the mountain, where we were able to give our sympathy to the family (which is hard enough in English, let alone Spanish). There was no set time for anyone to leave. There was soda and chicha (traditional corn beer) and everyone just kind of stood or sat around and talked, leaving when they wanted to.
Death here is definitely a normal part of life. Yes, it's sad. That transcends cultures. But it is recognized as something normal we will all face some day. No need to dress up for a funeral. No way to avoid it and sterilize yourself from human emotion or experience. No neatly going on your way while the funeral director lowers the casket into the grave. And no denying that life goes on after the body is in the ground. We were standing around afterwards talking and laughing about various things that had nothing to do with the funeral whatsoever.
And so I am here. In life, in faith, in joy, in sorrow, for better or for worse. And God is here. He is in the stuff of life. He is in the faith of the Peruvian believers, in the experience of death, in the details of everyday life, in the joyful exuberant smiles of the kids I've begun to get to know, in the relationships that are being formed and strengthened. God is here. And that is beautiful.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Pack mules, chickens and ice cream - a Saturday adventure in Cusco
To do on a Saturday in Cusco:
1) Buy things for ice cream sundaes for the party for the youth retreat we promised to help out with
2) Buy plants for our garden and sad little greenhouse (that's a project for the next few weeks)
3) Buy chickens
4) Make it to the youth retreat in time for the party
So we decided to go to Tupac Amaru, where they sell plants, furniture and any other number of things. Conveniently, right beside Tupac Amaru are several grocery stores where we could get just about anything we'd need for ice cream sundaes. So, under a hot, bright sun, we went to Tupac Amaru. We quickly found the plants we wanted - onions, oregano, cilantro, lettuce and rosemary. Carrie wanted to look for a chest since she doesn't have a whole lot of storage space in her room. She ended up finding one she loved. However, we still had to go to the grocery store, so we decided to carry the chest between two of us and leave one of us behind with it outside the grocery store while the other two went shopping. So Shannon got to sit on the chest while Carrie and I found things for ice cream sundaes. We ended up having to go to several stores and found almost everything. By this time, the chest was getting heavy and we were feeling like pack mules and getting ready for lunch, so we got a taxi home.
While at home, we decided to crush nuts and cookies and get everything ready for the ice cream sundaes before we left to go get chickens. One of the other missionaries had told us of the best place to buy ice cream in bulk (like for 80 people), so we called and found out that they would not be open till 4. The plan was to get the chickens, bring them home, then go get ice cream and leave from there for the retreat.
Things, however, rarely go as planned. The sun was still bright and shiny when we left home, but clouds were looming on the horizon. We had to make one stop to get chocolate syrup for the sundaes. By the time we got to our next bus stop, raindrops were starting to splatter down on the sidewalk. By the time we got off the bus, raindrops were really starting to fall. Huddled under a one-person umbrella, we stood in one place, contemplating the street in front of us, trying to figure out where exactly the little market was where we were supposed to buy our chickens. Finally, we just decided to walk and see where we ended up. Right as it started POURING rain, we stumbled upon the market. Now, I must explain that three gringas (white people) are not that big a deal in Cusco, but three somewhat wet gringas huddled under an umbrella jubilantly exclaiming "Aqui esta!! (here it is!)" as they rush into a poultry and guinea pig market in Cusco in a rainstorm are much more interesting! :) Especially since, as we walked under one of the tarps, it decided to unload its cargo of rainwater on Shannon's head. Now really wet, Shannon abandoned the umbrella. Now that we had made it to our destination, we decided to find what we had come for. The weather, however, had other ideas. All around the perimeter of the market, where there was some sort of roofing, people huddled with their chickens, ducks, turkeys and guinea pigs, trying to keep some semblance of dryness. Within about 2 minutes, the general consensus seemed to be that staying dry and selling animals was a lost cause while the rainstorm continued, so everyone found as much roof as he could and tried to cover up his animals. Since Shannon was wet, she decided to help the woman in the middle of the market put her tarp tents back up when they fell over and then throw her chickens in a plastic crate so they could be put under a drier roof. Carrie and I, meanwhile, huddled under a roof with what eventually became 4 other people as the storm dragged on and it began to hail. We stayed there, getting wetter, muddier, and colder, for about half an hour until the storm began to subside and the sounds that were heard, instead of the crash of raindrops, became more the murmur of human voices and the annoyed squawks of wet and uncomfortable fowl.
At this point, we decided it was sufficiently done raining to buy chickens. So we bought 8 3-week-old chickens, which we carried in a box. Next stop was to buy chicken feed, which went into our backpacks. By this time, it was about half an hour from the time the ice cream factory was supposed to be opening back up, so we decided to just take the chickens with us and head there. After getting some vague directions from the guy at the feed mill, who seemed to be quite amused by the sight of three wet gringas carrying a box of 8 chickens and enjoying petting his cat, we caught the bus we needed and headed out to buy 25 liters of ice cream. Unfortunately, we missed our stop, so we again became pack mules as we trudged back along muddy sidewalks, carrying the chickens and feed, and eventually found the ice cream place. By this time, it was 4:00 and we were supposed to be at the retreat in an hour. So we stood outside the factory waiting for the door to magically open and someone to invite us in to buy our ice cream. This, however, proved to be nothing but a lovely fantasy. 15 minutes passed by as we stood there wondering just when the door was going to open. I finally decided to try knocking to see if I could get any response. Lo and behold, a peephole in the door was opened and the man on the other side told me that this was the incorrect place, that yes, there was service from 4-6, but in another place that was, in his words, lejos (far).
By this time, we wanted nothing more than to get the ice cream, go home to change, and go to the retreat. So we hailed a taxi and went back to the grocery store we were at in the morning to buy the ice cream for a few more soles than we had originally thought it would be.
After getting home, changing, and introducing the chickens to their new home, finally we were able to leave for the retreat. When we arrived, later than we had originally thought, we found that things were, as is typical of events here, running late. So we sat and listened to two of the youth speak. That time was such a blessing to many people, including us. After the two teachings and the ministry time that followed, all the youth were barred from the room and the preparations for the party were begun. Chairs were moved to make room for dancing and funky lights were set up around the room. Supper was a quick meal of soup and tea, then it was back to helping to set up for the party, which started soon after.
The moment it was revealed that we were having a party, the dance floor was open and Shamara grabbed me by the hand, urging me "Bailemos! (Let's dance)." Somehow, she was willing to teach my stubbornly wooden feet how to move to the rhythm and do something that at least approximated what she was doing. I'm not really the most comfortable when I'm dancing, but when I was able to get past the fact that the pastor was there and the feeling that I can't dance and that I should be serving ice cream (even though all the youth were far too interested in dancing to want ice cream until later) and everyone was there and could see me, it was fun! :) Both the ice cream and the party were a big hit and we ended up being there till about 11:30, when the pastor and his wife and another guy decided to head back home to get some sleep. Of course, no sane person drives any kind of public transportation in Papancay where the retreat was at 11:30 at night, so we decided to hoof it in the dark, walking along a dirt road by the light of a keychain flashlight, carrying what was left of our ice cream toppings and things in bags. (It really wasn't bad; it sounds worse than it was.) Half an hour later, we arrived in San Jeronimo again, where Pastor Ruben hailed us a taxi and we were finally able to go home, leave everything where it was, and fall into bed exhausted.
God loves to send us adventures, I am convinced. They teach us to trust Him and go along for
the ride, wherever that may lead us. Here are some pictures of this crazy adventure.
Shannon and Carrie with the newest members of our family, right after we got them and while we were waiting for the ice cream store to open.
The chicks in their new home
Some of the youth enjoying the opportunity to dance!
My friend Shamara and I.
1) Buy things for ice cream sundaes for the party for the youth retreat we promised to help out with
2) Buy plants for our garden and sad little greenhouse (that's a project for the next few weeks)
3) Buy chickens
4) Make it to the youth retreat in time for the party
So we decided to go to Tupac Amaru, where they sell plants, furniture and any other number of things. Conveniently, right beside Tupac Amaru are several grocery stores where we could get just about anything we'd need for ice cream sundaes. So, under a hot, bright sun, we went to Tupac Amaru. We quickly found the plants we wanted - onions, oregano, cilantro, lettuce and rosemary. Carrie wanted to look for a chest since she doesn't have a whole lot of storage space in her room. She ended up finding one she loved. However, we still had to go to the grocery store, so we decided to carry the chest between two of us and leave one of us behind with it outside the grocery store while the other two went shopping. So Shannon got to sit on the chest while Carrie and I found things for ice cream sundaes. We ended up having to go to several stores and found almost everything. By this time, the chest was getting heavy and we were feeling like pack mules and getting ready for lunch, so we got a taxi home.
While at home, we decided to crush nuts and cookies and get everything ready for the ice cream sundaes before we left to go get chickens. One of the other missionaries had told us of the best place to buy ice cream in bulk (like for 80 people), so we called and found out that they would not be open till 4. The plan was to get the chickens, bring them home, then go get ice cream and leave from there for the retreat.
Things, however, rarely go as planned. The sun was still bright and shiny when we left home, but clouds were looming on the horizon. We had to make one stop to get chocolate syrup for the sundaes. By the time we got to our next bus stop, raindrops were starting to splatter down on the sidewalk. By the time we got off the bus, raindrops were really starting to fall. Huddled under a one-person umbrella, we stood in one place, contemplating the street in front of us, trying to figure out where exactly the little market was where we were supposed to buy our chickens. Finally, we just decided to walk and see where we ended up. Right as it started POURING rain, we stumbled upon the market. Now, I must explain that three gringas (white people) are not that big a deal in Cusco, but three somewhat wet gringas huddled under an umbrella jubilantly exclaiming "Aqui esta!! (here it is!)" as they rush into a poultry and guinea pig market in Cusco in a rainstorm are much more interesting! :) Especially since, as we walked under one of the tarps, it decided to unload its cargo of rainwater on Shannon's head. Now really wet, Shannon abandoned the umbrella. Now that we had made it to our destination, we decided to find what we had come for. The weather, however, had other ideas. All around the perimeter of the market, where there was some sort of roofing, people huddled with their chickens, ducks, turkeys and guinea pigs, trying to keep some semblance of dryness. Within about 2 minutes, the general consensus seemed to be that staying dry and selling animals was a lost cause while the rainstorm continued, so everyone found as much roof as he could and tried to cover up his animals. Since Shannon was wet, she decided to help the woman in the middle of the market put her tarp tents back up when they fell over and then throw her chickens in a plastic crate so they could be put under a drier roof. Carrie and I, meanwhile, huddled under a roof with what eventually became 4 other people as the storm dragged on and it began to hail. We stayed there, getting wetter, muddier, and colder, for about half an hour until the storm began to subside and the sounds that were heard, instead of the crash of raindrops, became more the murmur of human voices and the annoyed squawks of wet and uncomfortable fowl.
At this point, we decided it was sufficiently done raining to buy chickens. So we bought 8 3-week-old chickens, which we carried in a box. Next stop was to buy chicken feed, which went into our backpacks. By this time, it was about half an hour from the time the ice cream factory was supposed to be opening back up, so we decided to just take the chickens with us and head there. After getting some vague directions from the guy at the feed mill, who seemed to be quite amused by the sight of three wet gringas carrying a box of 8 chickens and enjoying petting his cat, we caught the bus we needed and headed out to buy 25 liters of ice cream. Unfortunately, we missed our stop, so we again became pack mules as we trudged back along muddy sidewalks, carrying the chickens and feed, and eventually found the ice cream place. By this time, it was 4:00 and we were supposed to be at the retreat in an hour. So we stood outside the factory waiting for the door to magically open and someone to invite us in to buy our ice cream. This, however, proved to be nothing but a lovely fantasy. 15 minutes passed by as we stood there wondering just when the door was going to open. I finally decided to try knocking to see if I could get any response. Lo and behold, a peephole in the door was opened and the man on the other side told me that this was the incorrect place, that yes, there was service from 4-6, but in another place that was, in his words, lejos (far).
By this time, we wanted nothing more than to get the ice cream, go home to change, and go to the retreat. So we hailed a taxi and went back to the grocery store we were at in the morning to buy the ice cream for a few more soles than we had originally thought it would be.
After getting home, changing, and introducing the chickens to their new home, finally we were able to leave for the retreat. When we arrived, later than we had originally thought, we found that things were, as is typical of events here, running late. So we sat and listened to two of the youth speak. That time was such a blessing to many people, including us. After the two teachings and the ministry time that followed, all the youth were barred from the room and the preparations for the party were begun. Chairs were moved to make room for dancing and funky lights were set up around the room. Supper was a quick meal of soup and tea, then it was back to helping to set up for the party, which started soon after.
The moment it was revealed that we were having a party, the dance floor was open and Shamara grabbed me by the hand, urging me "Bailemos! (Let's dance)." Somehow, she was willing to teach my stubbornly wooden feet how to move to the rhythm and do something that at least approximated what she was doing. I'm not really the most comfortable when I'm dancing, but when I was able to get past the fact that the pastor was there and the feeling that I can't dance and that I should be serving ice cream (even though all the youth were far too interested in dancing to want ice cream until later) and everyone was there and could see me, it was fun! :) Both the ice cream and the party were a big hit and we ended up being there till about 11:30, when the pastor and his wife and another guy decided to head back home to get some sleep. Of course, no sane person drives any kind of public transportation in Papancay where the retreat was at 11:30 at night, so we decided to hoof it in the dark, walking along a dirt road by the light of a keychain flashlight, carrying what was left of our ice cream toppings and things in bags. (It really wasn't bad; it sounds worse than it was.) Half an hour later, we arrived in San Jeronimo again, where Pastor Ruben hailed us a taxi and we were finally able to go home, leave everything where it was, and fall into bed exhausted.
God loves to send us adventures, I am convinced. They teach us to trust Him and go along for
the ride, wherever that may lead us. Here are some pictures of this crazy adventure.
Shannon and Carrie with the newest members of our family, right after we got them and while we were waiting for the ice cream store to open.
The chicks in their new home
Some of the youth enjoying the opportunity to dance!
My friend Shamara and I.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Febrero loco - Crazy February
We have been told that there is a saying here about the rain to be expected during the months of the rainy season: enero poco, febrero loco, marzo borracho (January a little, February a lot, March is drunk). If the first three days of February have been any indication, the statement could be true for other things as well as rain...
Yesterday morning we woke up to no water. Not a drop. We have clean water to drink, but none of the precious liquid was pouring out of the faucets at the turn of a handle. This is not necessarily atypical in Peru. It takes some getting used to, but you quickly figure out you just have to wait for the return of the services and get creative in the meantime.
Creativity yesterday required rainwater. Thankfully for us, the Cusquenan rainy season came through and we were able to collect about 8 gallons of runoff water from our roof to at least flush our poor toilet. In addition, the Wycliffe missionaries who live across the street from us collected more rainwater than they could possibly use and shared some with the rest of our little missionary community here. We said we felt like the widow who collected jugs from her neighbors into which to pour oil.
And as if that were not crazy enough, we were playing the entertainers yesterday. There were 6 of us around the table at lunch and about 17 youth jammed into our living room last evening for a game night/Welcome Shannon and Bethany party, which included smores and roasted Peruvian hot dogs (which aren't really your typical fat, artery-clogging American fare). Thankfully, this is Peru, where such utility shortages are part of life. No one seemed to mind dumping water in the back of the toilet to flush it, especially seeing as how most of the rest of Cusco was without water yesterday as well.
We awoke this morning to cloudy skies, restored water services, and a kitchen full of dirty dishes, realizing that God truly is in control and we truly are not.
I also found the first dead mouse under the refrigerator yesterday. Jubilantly I announced victory and recruited Carrie's metal ruler for the job of extricating said rodent from said confined space....only to realize that I had been excited about a piece of garlic adorned with a rather large dust bunny. We still have yet to find the first dead mouse. We are considering a cat.
Today was our Sunday to visit the church in Huacarpay for the first time. I definitely realized that life is simpler in the country and was reminded that church in Huacarpay is quite different from what I have been experiencing for the last 5 years. It was, however, a good morning and I really enjoyed it. After church, we went to the pastor's house for a very large lunch of potatoes - freeze dried, plain, and sweet, corn on the cob, carrots, cabbage, meat, and broth. My stomach is definitely expanding... After lunch, we went to check out the ruins of an ancient Inca military fortress that are close to Pastor Celestino's house. It was quite a hike in church clothes, but very fun. Got to see some black widows (ugh!) and a lot of cool ruins and beautiful scenery. God's creative power is amazing!
Of course, since today is the last day of Carnavales, which means that people are out on the streets armed with buckets of water and water balloons, the trip home could not have been complete without being pegged in the face by a water balloon and becoming quite wet. If you're not quite so lucky, shoe polish and colored flour can also be involved. We were lucky in that regard.
And that has been most of the beginning of our February. Loco? Just a little. But has God been there? Absolutely. And I trust in His faithfulness for whatever craziness awaits us in the next few weeks as well.
One more thought with which to leave you. According to Pastor Celestino of Huacarpay, February is the month in which women talk the least. His explanation for this statement? February only has 28 or 29 days. Some things cross cultures. :)
Yesterday morning we woke up to no water. Not a drop. We have clean water to drink, but none of the precious liquid was pouring out of the faucets at the turn of a handle. This is not necessarily atypical in Peru. It takes some getting used to, but you quickly figure out you just have to wait for the return of the services and get creative in the meantime.
Creativity yesterday required rainwater. Thankfully for us, the Cusquenan rainy season came through and we were able to collect about 8 gallons of runoff water from our roof to at least flush our poor toilet. In addition, the Wycliffe missionaries who live across the street from us collected more rainwater than they could possibly use and shared some with the rest of our little missionary community here. We said we felt like the widow who collected jugs from her neighbors into which to pour oil.
And as if that were not crazy enough, we were playing the entertainers yesterday. There were 6 of us around the table at lunch and about 17 youth jammed into our living room last evening for a game night/Welcome Shannon and Bethany party, which included smores and roasted Peruvian hot dogs (which aren't really your typical fat, artery-clogging American fare). Thankfully, this is Peru, where such utility shortages are part of life. No one seemed to mind dumping water in the back of the toilet to flush it, especially seeing as how most of the rest of Cusco was without water yesterday as well.
We awoke this morning to cloudy skies, restored water services, and a kitchen full of dirty dishes, realizing that God truly is in control and we truly are not.
I also found the first dead mouse under the refrigerator yesterday. Jubilantly I announced victory and recruited Carrie's metal ruler for the job of extricating said rodent from said confined space....only to realize that I had been excited about a piece of garlic adorned with a rather large dust bunny. We still have yet to find the first dead mouse. We are considering a cat.
Today was our Sunday to visit the church in Huacarpay for the first time. I definitely realized that life is simpler in the country and was reminded that church in Huacarpay is quite different from what I have been experiencing for the last 5 years. It was, however, a good morning and I really enjoyed it. After church, we went to the pastor's house for a very large lunch of potatoes - freeze dried, plain, and sweet, corn on the cob, carrots, cabbage, meat, and broth. My stomach is definitely expanding... After lunch, we went to check out the ruins of an ancient Inca military fortress that are close to Pastor Celestino's house. It was quite a hike in church clothes, but very fun. Got to see some black widows (ugh!) and a lot of cool ruins and beautiful scenery. God's creative power is amazing!
Of course, since today is the last day of Carnavales, which means that people are out on the streets armed with buckets of water and water balloons, the trip home could not have been complete without being pegged in the face by a water balloon and becoming quite wet. If you're not quite so lucky, shoe polish and colored flour can also be involved. We were lucky in that regard.
And that has been most of the beginning of our February. Loco? Just a little. But has God been there? Absolutely. And I trust in His faithfulness for whatever craziness awaits us in the next few weeks as well.
One more thought with which to leave you. According to Pastor Celestino of Huacarpay, February is the month in which women talk the least. His explanation for this statement? February only has 28 or 29 days. Some things cross cultures. :)
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Mice in the kitchen
Nuestra casa no es su casa (Our house is not your house). At least if you're a mouse. Yes, we have mice in our kitchen. Not many, but enough to allow us to bond together fighting a common enemy. The mice have been a mixed blessing. The fact that they seem to think our pan cupboard is their place to have fiestas and dance around is not so cool. But the bonding experiences we have had because of the mice have actually been a blessing. Mice a blessing? Let me explain.
For example, the other night while we were praying, a mouse squeaked really loud in the kitchen, loud enough that we all heard it, stopped praying and started laughing. After we finished praying, we went out into the kitchen. The mouse, started by the appearance of three gigantic humans, scurried in plain sight down, off the counter, and behind the stove. After which, we bonded by listening to Carrie's stories of past mouse adventures.
Another night, Shannon and I decided to try to trap the mice using a plate, some peanut butter and a bowl. The idea was that we'd wait for the mice to come out and start eating the peanut butter on the plate, then I'd slam the bowl over top of them and catch them. Well...we didn't catch any mice, but we did catch some laughs and Shannon got some fun video footage.
Our other comrade in arms against the mice is Marga. That is where, at least from my perspective, the mice have really been a blessing. Marga is a woman in the church who comes and helps us out in the house. She has done so for years and it has been a blessing for her to have the job and the money, as well as to build relationships with many of the missionaries. But for me, a servant-gifted person who is used to running around like crazy trying to do everything, it is really weird to have a maid. I really want to be more friends with her than anything else. And, lo and behold, in the beginning of my term, I don't have any responsibilities, in order to allow me to adjust to Cusco. Since Shannon's learning Spanish and Carrie's teaching English in summer school, I'm the only one right now who is in this situation of not having any specific job. I was a little discouraged about it last night, but God reminded me of Marga and I really think the next few weeks are to be a time of bonding with her and learning from her while we are the only two here and before I get really busy with school and church stuff. The mice have given us something to laugh about, a common enemy against which to fight, and a common place to pour our creative energies. That is a recipe for bonding.
So, yes the mice are a pain and yes, I'm ready to see them be gone. But in a way, I'm thankful for the mice and the opportunity God has given me through them to see Himself at work, to teach me and to build relationships with those around me.
For example, the other night while we were praying, a mouse squeaked really loud in the kitchen, loud enough that we all heard it, stopped praying and started laughing. After we finished praying, we went out into the kitchen. The mouse, started by the appearance of three gigantic humans, scurried in plain sight down, off the counter, and behind the stove. After which, we bonded by listening to Carrie's stories of past mouse adventures.
Another night, Shannon and I decided to try to trap the mice using a plate, some peanut butter and a bowl. The idea was that we'd wait for the mice to come out and start eating the peanut butter on the plate, then I'd slam the bowl over top of them and catch them. Well...we didn't catch any mice, but we did catch some laughs and Shannon got some fun video footage.
Our other comrade in arms against the mice is Marga. That is where, at least from my perspective, the mice have really been a blessing. Marga is a woman in the church who comes and helps us out in the house. She has done so for years and it has been a blessing for her to have the job and the money, as well as to build relationships with many of the missionaries. But for me, a servant-gifted person who is used to running around like crazy trying to do everything, it is really weird to have a maid. I really want to be more friends with her than anything else. And, lo and behold, in the beginning of my term, I don't have any responsibilities, in order to allow me to adjust to Cusco. Since Shannon's learning Spanish and Carrie's teaching English in summer school, I'm the only one right now who is in this situation of not having any specific job. I was a little discouraged about it last night, but God reminded me of Marga and I really think the next few weeks are to be a time of bonding with her and learning from her while we are the only two here and before I get really busy with school and church stuff. The mice have given us something to laugh about, a common enemy against which to fight, and a common place to pour our creative energies. That is a recipe for bonding.
So, yes the mice are a pain and yes, I'm ready to see them be gone. But in a way, I'm thankful for the mice and the opportunity God has given me through them to see Himself at work, to teach me and to build relationships with those around me.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
He llegado - I have arrived in Peru!
Hola everyone from a currently cloudy Cusco. Let me tell you about this past week of my life, since so many of you have asked about it and I know others are wondering. On Monday morning, bright and early, I left Lancaster for the Philadelphia airport, where I met up with my roommate Shannon. We had uneventful flights from Philly to Fort Lauderdale and then from Fort Lauderdale to Bogota, Colombia. The only flight snag we experienced was in Bogota when we were forced to wait on the airplane for almost 2 hours until the fog had cleared enough for us to leave the tarmac and take to the air.
We arrived at Lima around 3 AM and had a very uneventful trek through immigration and customs. By this time we were exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. I definitely felt the prayers of many people throughout the whole smooth process and was very grateful for that. We wearily pushed loaded luggage carts out to the waiting and greeting area and were immediately surrounded by the loving arms and welcoming smiles of the rest of our missionary team. Finally, the end was in sight. We arrived at our hostal and got to bed around 4:30 AM, making it officially a really long day of travel!
Bright and early the next morning we crawled out of bed to begin the wonderful and crazy journey of getting residence cards. We spent a lot of time waiting for paperwork to get processed. We got fingerprinted and got our teeth checked, filled out tons of paperwork and finally were able to leave and go do some fun shopping at the more modern stores in Lima.
In the evening we spent some time in the main plaza of the city with Ron and Regina Shultz. There are some pictures on the Internet of that. See the links below.
The next day was basically free. We got together with our friend Meche in Lima and spent a while with her. It was really good to connect with her again after 5 years.
Thursday morning we woke up early to go to immigrations to finish processing our residence cards. In a span of 2 hours, I officially became a resident of Peru and everything was all finished. I now have a Peruvian residence card. We left right from immigrations to head to the airport.
As the airplane descended through the clouds shrouding Cusco, I began to see views of the mountains and the red roofs of the city. It was a beautiful sight. Then houses began to come into view and rush by as we taxied down the runway into the airport. Beautiful houses. Colorful adobe walls and red tile roofs, walls around every house. The roads are a reddish mud, bordered by grass with mangy dogs walking around wherever they please. Black-haired children walk all over the place and Andean women with their long black braids and colorful blankets on their backs for carrying things can be seen anywhere. Surrounding everything, like a giant green cup, are the rugged, jagged peaks of the Andes Mountains.
Cusco is an interesting city, a mix of the traditional Andean culture of Peru with the more modern western culture of a tourist city. It is a beautiful place with beautiful people. Each morning so far, I have been awakened early by the songs of birds and the barking of dogs, as well as the early morning light coming through my windows. Outside my room, I can see a jumble of mustard-colored houses and the green of our backyard.
Right now everything outside is nice and green, since it's summertime. Although summertime is relative. I sleep under three heavy blankets and fleece sheets, simply because I like to be warm when I sleep and Peru does not have any indoor heating systems. During the day, I will often wear a warm shirt layered over a thinner shirt. The altitude makes it much cooler.
Yesterday, my roommates and a friend went to the center of town and spent some time walking around. You can see pictures of that too. See the links below. I have really appreciated my roommates so far. I feel very blessed by them. Carrie has been here for a year and will be here for another 2 and Shannon just came down with me and will be here for a year.
I also posted pictures of my house (see the link below). It is not necessarily typically Peruvian, but it is beautiful. I love our house and it is truly, as Carrie calls it, a dulce refugio (sweet refuge). I feel so blessed and I am looking forward to living here for the next 3 1/2 years.
For now, I need to go, but here are some links to web albums that I just created of pictures from my last few days here. Enjoy!
My first few days in Peru
My house
We arrived at Lima around 3 AM and had a very uneventful trek through immigration and customs. By this time we were exhausted and just wanted to go to bed. I definitely felt the prayers of many people throughout the whole smooth process and was very grateful for that. We wearily pushed loaded luggage carts out to the waiting and greeting area and were immediately surrounded by the loving arms and welcoming smiles of the rest of our missionary team. Finally, the end was in sight. We arrived at our hostal and got to bed around 4:30 AM, making it officially a really long day of travel!
Bright and early the next morning we crawled out of bed to begin the wonderful and crazy journey of getting residence cards. We spent a lot of time waiting for paperwork to get processed. We got fingerprinted and got our teeth checked, filled out tons of paperwork and finally were able to leave and go do some fun shopping at the more modern stores in Lima.
In the evening we spent some time in the main plaza of the city with Ron and Regina Shultz. There are some pictures on the Internet of that. See the links below.
The next day was basically free. We got together with our friend Meche in Lima and spent a while with her. It was really good to connect with her again after 5 years.
Thursday morning we woke up early to go to immigrations to finish processing our residence cards. In a span of 2 hours, I officially became a resident of Peru and everything was all finished. I now have a Peruvian residence card. We left right from immigrations to head to the airport.
As the airplane descended through the clouds shrouding Cusco, I began to see views of the mountains and the red roofs of the city. It was a beautiful sight. Then houses began to come into view and rush by as we taxied down the runway into the airport. Beautiful houses. Colorful adobe walls and red tile roofs, walls around every house. The roads are a reddish mud, bordered by grass with mangy dogs walking around wherever they please. Black-haired children walk all over the place and Andean women with their long black braids and colorful blankets on their backs for carrying things can be seen anywhere. Surrounding everything, like a giant green cup, are the rugged, jagged peaks of the Andes Mountains.
Cusco is an interesting city, a mix of the traditional Andean culture of Peru with the more modern western culture of a tourist city. It is a beautiful place with beautiful people. Each morning so far, I have been awakened early by the songs of birds and the barking of dogs, as well as the early morning light coming through my windows. Outside my room, I can see a jumble of mustard-colored houses and the green of our backyard.
Right now everything outside is nice and green, since it's summertime. Although summertime is relative. I sleep under three heavy blankets and fleece sheets, simply because I like to be warm when I sleep and Peru does not have any indoor heating systems. During the day, I will often wear a warm shirt layered over a thinner shirt. The altitude makes it much cooler.
Yesterday, my roommates and a friend went to the center of town and spent some time walking around. You can see pictures of that too. See the links below. I have really appreciated my roommates so far. I feel very blessed by them. Carrie has been here for a year and will be here for another 2 and Shannon just came down with me and will be here for a year.
I also posted pictures of my house (see the link below). It is not necessarily typically Peruvian, but it is beautiful. I love our house and it is truly, as Carrie calls it, a dulce refugio (sweet refuge). I feel so blessed and I am looking forward to living here for the next 3 1/2 years.
For now, I need to go, but here are some links to web albums that I just created of pictures from my last few days here. Enjoy!
My first few days in Peru
My house
Monday, January 7, 2008
Commissioning Service
Thanks to all of you who came to my church at some point yesterday for my commissioning and/or the meal and fellowship time that followed. It was a blessing to see each one of you and to get to say goodbye to many of you.
Just in case anyone is interested in hearing the commissioning service again or missed it and would like to hear it for the first time, it should be on my church's website in a few days. The address is www.explorelivinghope.com. Click on the downloads link at the top of the page and you will be able to listen to the service online or download it to your computer.
Blessings to each one of you and I am looking forward to seeing as many of you as I can during the next two weeks.
Just in case anyone is interested in hearing the commissioning service again or missed it and would like to hear it for the first time, it should be on my church's website in a few days. The address is www.explorelivinghope.com. Click on the downloads link at the top of the page and you will be able to listen to the service online or download it to your computer.
Blessings to each one of you and I am looking forward to seeing as many of you as I can during the next two weeks.
Monday, December 31, 2007
December 2007 newsletter
Exciting, Important Details!From my heart: Missing God
What’s been going on?
As of December 20, 2007, I was released by EMM to leave for Peru! Lord willing, I will be flying to Peru on January 21, 2008 and will arrive in the capital of Lima on January 22. While there, I will process my paperwork so I can stay in the country long-term (from what I understand, something like having resident alien status). After this, I will travel to Cusco, where I will transition into life there before the school year starts at the beginning of March. These last few weeks have been a crazy roller coaster of uncertainty and faith as I finished the final details and was released to go. It is with many mixed emotions that I leave for Peru. Many thanks to all of you who have stood with me in many ways throughout this time and have helped me to make a smooth transition thus far. You are a blessing!
From my heart: Missing God
The other day, on a whim, I decided to read the Christmas story over again. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read that story, but this time it made me think in a whole new way.
We as humans are sense-oriented beings. I’ve learned in my education classes that the more senses are involved in learning, the better and longer the information will stick. As I read the Christmas story over again, I marveled at the way God used this fact
to His advantage as He gave us His own Christmas gift.
Zechariah saw and heard an angel. Elizabeth lived with a mute husband for 9 months. Mary saw and heard an angel. Joseph did too -twice. The shepherds saw and heard angels. The wise men saw a star and, in a dream, an angel as well. Literally, everyone who was involved in the Christmas story had a sense-oriented experience.
As I read the story and was struck by this realization, God spoke to my heart. His Christmas gift of His Son was so significant that He did not want anyone to miss it. He could have spoken in many different ways, but He chose to use experiences that involved the senses so that no one could pass them off as anything but supernatural. He didn’t want us to miss Him.
God hasn’t changed in the last 2000 years. He still wants us to recognize Him in the midst of everyday life. He doesn’t always send angels or write things in the clouds, but He tries to speak to us through the very real experiences we have every day. We can choose to see them as God’s hand at work or we can write them off.
Whether we decide to believe or write these things off determines whether our faith will be strengthened or weakened. If we choose to see God working in the little circumstances of everyday life, our faith will grow and our lives will be filled with joy and the presence of God. If, however, we miss God at work in our everyday lives, we miss out on the blessings and relationship that He wants to pour out on us. In this new year, we will have many opportunities to either see God or miss Him. What will we choose? I, for one, don’t want to miss Him. How about you?
What’s been going on?
This fall was my last semester of school: student teaching. I was blessed to work with two wonderful teachers and really enjoyed my time in both kindergarten and second grade. We did a lot of fun projects together in both classes and I realized that I am in the right career. Though it was a work-intensive semester, it was also very rewarding and enjoyable. In the middle of December I said goodbye to my second group of students and also to my season of life as a college kid. On December 16, I graduated from Millersville University with a bachelor of science in education degree. I am now (finally!) officially a teacher! Since finishing my student teaching, I have been working full time at Berean Christian Store in Lancaster. I will be leaving Berean in early January to enable me to finish up some details and projects before I leave for Peru. It has been and will continue to be a bittersweet time of transition.
Some of you may be wondering what in the world this Missionary Support Team (MST) you keep hearing from really is. An MST is a requirement for any missionary serving under EMM. Having had one for 9 months now, I can understand why! I am so thankful for each person on my MST. I have likened having an MST to being in the middle of a parachute with a whole bunch of people standing around the edges holding me up. Practically speaking, they have helped me, among other things, to coordinate several fundraisers, keep track of my financial and prayer support, get connected with churches, send out newsletters and support letters, and discern God’s will and timing for my leaving. In terms of emotional support, they have stood by me through thick and thin and helped take much of the mental strain of getting ready to go off my mind. While I am gone, they will help to serve as an important connection between you and me, bridging the distance and helping me continue to raise support and serve more effectively in Peru. They have been a tremendous blessing to me and will, I trust, be so for you as well.
Kids’ Corner: Feliz Navidad
If you go to Peru in December, you will hear lots of people saying Feliz Navidad, (fay LEES nah vee DODD), which means Merry Christmas. There is no snow in Peru on Christmas. People decorate their homes with manger scenes—in Spanish, nacimientos (nah see me EN toes), but they don’t put Baby Jesus in the manger right away. On Christmas Eve, everyone stays up till midnight. Then they put Baby Jesus in the manger. Outside in the streets, people set off fireworks and families gather to give each other hugs and wish everyone a merry Christmas. Then they go back inside to eat a meal and exchange gifts. The picture at the left is of my tiny Peruvian nacimiento.
Praises and Prayer Requests
Praises:
· A good semester of student teaching
· One word: graduation
· I have more definite plans
Prayer Requests:
· For a smooth and healthy transition from one season of life to another
· For safe traveling and easy processing of my residence papers in Peru
Friday, December 21, 2007
Answers
Many of you have been asking over the last few months when I am planning on leaving. I've been wondering the same thing. I finally have more of an answer than "I don't know for sure". I just received word from EMM this morning that I am officially approved to leave in January. The date is not completely finalized yet, but I will post that as well when I know it. I will also have a commissioning service/fellowship time on a Sunday morning in January at my church. We're working on finalizing that and more details will follow about that as well.
Blessings to all of you and may God bless your Christmas with His grace and love. Thank you for standing with me in this process.
Update: 12/23
I am planning on leaving on January 21, to get to Peru in time to process my residence paperwork in Lima with the other missionaries before I head to Cusco. I don't have plane tickets yet, but they should be coming soon, Lord willing.
My commissioning service is officially January 6 at 10 AM at Living Hope Community Church. A time of fellowship will follow the service in the church gym from 12:30-3 PM. All are invited for these events. More details will be in an email for those who are on my email list.
Blessings to all of you and may God bless your Christmas with His grace and love. Thank you for standing with me in this process.
Update: 12/23
I am planning on leaving on January 21, to get to Peru in time to process my residence paperwork in Lima with the other missionaries before I head to Cusco. I don't have plane tickets yet, but they should be coming soon, Lord willing.
My commissioning service is officially January 6 at 10 AM at Living Hope Community Church. A time of fellowship will follow the service in the church gym from 12:30-3 PM. All are invited for these events. More details will be in an email for those who are on my email list.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
October newsletter
From my heart: Got the heart?
Got the heart? It’s a question that Eastern Mennonite Missions (EMM) has been asking themselves this year and one that has challenged me many times over the past few months.
Many times I have had to ask myself “Have I got the heart of Christ? Am I living that out right now?” It has been a challenge and it’s still something I’m working on and continuing to learn about as I go throughout my daily life.
This question begs another question: What exactly is this “heart of Christ” that I’m wanting to have? What does it look like? I can’t claim to be anything close to an expert on the subject, but over the last few months, God has spoken different things to me that have helped me to begin answering this question and have challenged me to live more like Him.
The heart of Christ is compassionate. In beginning to reread through the Old Testament recently, I have been amazed anew at the emphasis that God put on compassion in the laws He gave His people. Compassion is to characterize our everyday lives and dealings with people.
The heart of Christ is unconditionally welcoming. Kids flocked to Jesus. He hung out with the despised and the sinners. He ate with those the world rejected. Ironically, it was the religious elite in their exclusive cliques who had problems with Him.
People are at the very core of the heart of Christ, above time or schedules or anything else. Relationship is what drives all that God does and it is also what should drive all that I do. God is, at His heart, a missionary God who reaches out to us and invites us into relationship with Him. How can I do any less?
This is just the tip of the iceberg. Having the heart of Christ living in me is more radically transforming than I’m sure I could ever imagine. “Got the heart?” is a reminder I continue to need daily.
A Summer of Training and Equipping
Over the summer I spent 4 weeks in training events with EMM. This time was very much a blessing to me. Three weeks of this time was spent at World Missions Institute, a local training sponsored by EMM for missionaries before they go on the field. This training focused
on looking at worldviews and included visits to a Buddhist temple, a Jewish synagogue and a Muslim mosque. These were all very interesting and eye-opening experiences which made me realize in a new way how different my faith really is! During this time I had the privilege of getting to know the Brubaker family, with whom I will be working in Peru.
The last week of training was spent at EMM’s annual Discovery and Enrichment retreat. During this time we received valuable training on using a ministry tool called Agape Prayer Ministry. I also had the privilege throughout the week of getting to know the Shultz family, missionaries to Peru who have been working specifically with PROMESA. This picture is of most of the female World Missions Institute participants with our head scarves on, ready to go to the mosque. (I'm the second from the left in the back).
Currently...
...in a certain kindergarten in Lancaster city, I am known as Miss Geib. I am in my final semester of school: student teaching. The experience so far has been many things—intense, funny, sad, eye-opening, fun, exhausting, frustrating, but most of all rewarding. The children in my classroom are very needy and I have been realizing how far a little love really can go. God has not left Himself without witness in the classroom. He comes up quite frequently in conversation. Like on one foggy morning the other week when one of my students observed that “the clouds are falling”. Thinking that Jesus is up in heaven sitting on a cloud, he then turned and asked me “Does that mean Jesus is falling too?” I have done a lot of explaining about a lot of things in the past few weeks and have really grown to love the kids in my class. I know I will miss them when I go to my second placement in a suburban 2nd grade classroom in the middle of this month.
Kids’ Corner
Did you know…?
The van in this picture is called a combi. Many people in Peru don’t have their own cars. Instead, they ride around in buses, taxis or combis, which are a little smaller than a 15-passenger van. There aren’t rules in Peru about how many people can be in a car, so a really full combi might have 25 people on it!
Many people dress like the lady in the picture. Instead of using strollers, women carry their babies on their backs in brightly colored blankets like this lady is doing.
Praises and Prayer Requests
Praises!
· For the things God did in my life this summer during training
· For the opportunities I have had to talk about my faith during student teaching.
Prayer Requests
· For continued physical, mental and voice strength for student teaching. I’ve already lost my voice once. If possible, I’d like to not repeat the experience. :)
· For continued preparations that need to be made before I head overseas.
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