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Showing posts from 2015

I Can't Handle Any More Change

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Well, it's November. And yep, we were supposed to be back in the Philippines in October. I can't even count how many times our plans have been changed and how many times I have been asked, "Now, when are you leaving again?" Don't get me wrong- I LOVE my little home in the desert, being here for the holidays, Starbucks red cups, Target, (mom sigh)... but my heart is ready to go back. My friend and I were joking around the other day talking about how we anticipate/dread our husbands coming home for lunch because we never know what new plan has hatched that day that changes everything. Well, today was one of those days. My husband and I started talking about something that has recently happened that could change our plans yet again. I had already considered this possibility in my head last week, but hearing him voice it out loud made my heart lurch. Outwardly, I think I smiled and made some comment about how God is in control, but inside I was screaming- "

I Have Become An Ostrich

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I have become an ostrich... When you read the news, click on the link, or that article and an overwhelming sense of sadness and helplessness comes over you, because what can you really do? So much suffering. So much poverty. Babies being killed. Women and children being sold for their bodies. People starving. No clean water. No education. Brutality. No religious freedom. Disease rampant. People who have never even heard the name of Jesus. If you have the courage to even lift your head out of the sand for a second, you are so moved and overwhelmed by the ugliness, the evil, the sadness of it all, you just stick your head back in the sand. For me, living in a third world country, it's not just pictures on the news. It's real people I'm seeing. Sometimes I feel pulled a thousand different ways. I want to stop abortion. I want to help the poor. I want to put an end to human trafficking. I want to get food and water to those who don't have any. I want to be a docto

When You Just Can't Say Goodbye

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Every single morning. Every morning, when I woke up, I thought about it and knew that I couldn't do it. It loomed over my head like a cloud. I just could not say goodbye. The months leading up to our departure for the Philippines 6 years ago, I looked forward to going, but I dreaded the day that I would have to say goodbye to my mom and dad. I could not do it. When I say my family is close, I don't just mean your typical family closeness. I mean CLOSE. We have no secrets. We tell each other everything. We have walked through some of the most horrible, nightmarish things together and become closer. I talked to my parents at least once a day. How could I leave them behind? Goodbyes are a huge part of missionary life. Just ask my kids. You get settled somewhere (which only takes about a week now), and then you leave or someone else leaves. Constant goodbyes. From the very beginning, other missionaries had told me about this and so I started praying. "Lord, teach

The Honest Truth From This Missionary Wife- My Field Is Too Small

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I knew I would be doing this. But I thought I'd be doing more. Something bigger. I thought I'd be out among the people letting my little light shine, talking about Jesus every moment, leading lots of people to Christ. What I'm doing day in and day out, I could be doing anywhere. In any country. I AM A MISSIONARY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!! The alarm goes off at 6:15 and I roll over and put my pillow over my head as I groggily wait for my coffee (that my sweet hubby makes every morning). No one ever accused me of being a morning person. By the time I actually get up and quietly sneak around getting ready, I sit down with my Bible and coffee at the exact time my 10-year old son bursts through the door with the entourage of dogs to say good morning and talk about something he remembered from Star Wars. I nod my head, try to look happy, listen to something about Darth Vader, pat the dogs, and send them out to do chores, really wondering how in the world he times it like that ev

My Greatest Fear

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Sometimes it scares me. Most of the time actually. I feel so inadequate, so unprepared, & like I have no idea what I am doing. Wait, who am I kidding? I have no idea what I am doing. I'm not sure anything could have prepared me for it. Parenting. When I look at my babies, I realize they are babies no more. No more babies, no more toddlers. We are in big kid territory. Babies are easy. They have basic needs, they don't understand what you're saying, and you don't have to explain anything.                          But we are entering in the realm of independence, moodiness & having to explain things- hard things. Like why there are two men kissing in line in front of us, what the dogs are doing the front yard, why we can't watch that movie, why this is wrong and this is right...and the list goes on. We are past behaviors and down to heart issues. We are walking through hard things together. Living in two worlds. Leaving people behind that we love

My Love/Hate Relationship With Change

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2015...It feels weird writing that. Weird and exciting. The past few months have been a whirlwind of busyness, holidays, family & friends, speaking at churches, and literally traveling around the world. Our plans & lives have been tossed, rearranged, changed & dissected multiple times. I have a strange relationship with change. I mostly hate it. But it is exciting at the same time, because I never know exactly what's coming. Our ministry has changed from flying airplanes to one of strategy & assessments for at least this year. I feel a little bit of an identity crisis as we have always identified ourselves as a missionary pilot family. My house is even decorated in airplanes for crying out loud. This is where my hate relationship with change comes in. When it starts messing with my identity...funny the things we find our identity in. Usually something that can change in the blink of an eye. I recently took a personality test that was actually very accurate.