The Ramblings of A Missionary Wife

Our electricity has been going out at least once daily for several hours, sometimes all night. They call it a "brown out" here. It gets really, really annoying when I'm in the middle of dinner or a science experiment with the kids and out it goes with no promise of when it will be on again. In some ways, it seems like my life has been a "brown out" lately. The power out. The drive gone. Trudging through the day because I know that's what I need to do. Dealing with another bad attitude, another sudden change of plans, another unhappy person. I feel like I've been on this honest kick with myself lately. Be honest. Don't stuff it. Don't wait until later to deal with it. I've discovered through experience that "stuffing it" for now, always leads to an explosion later... One thing I'm struggling with though is this. How do you be honest & not complain? Yeah. My being honest seems to quickly lead to a huge "O, whoa is me!...

So, I don't think anyone who knows me would say that I am a quiet person. I talk a lot & am pretty comfortable around people. But there is a part of me & a lot of others like me that is quiet.  Do you ever find yourself telling someone or wanting to tell someone, "Just because you scream the loudest doesn't mean you'll get the most attention." Sometimes I really wish that were true. Because if you think about it, which one of your kids or friends gets the most attention? The one who screams the loudest. Who in your extended family or workplace gets the most attention? The one who causes the most drama. It's so true. The people who cause problems & make drama are the ones who get the spotlight & attention. And then, there are the quiet ones. The ones who say, "I'm fine," when you ask how they are doing. The ones who never make a big stink about anything. The ones who always seem to have everything together. The ones that people oft...

My dad recently asked me, "What does Mom mean to you?" As I sit here across the ocean from her & think about that question, I struggle for words. How can I put into words what my Mom means to me. There are none. But I'll try my best.  My Mom means strength- She is one of the strongest people I know. Unfailing, always there strength.  My Mom means patience- Don't remember one time that she raised her voice to me. And I was a back-talker!!! My Mom means encouragement- She IS THE MOST encouraging person I know. Always speaking encouraging words, writing encouraging words. Speaking life. My Mom means trust- In very dark, painful experiences, trusting the Lord always has a purpose. I say words to myself that she always said to me, "It'll all be all right!" My Mom means responsibility- Getting up at 4 am year after year to get time with the Lord before all the kids got up. She taught me to take responsibility for my actions. Another one of h...

As I was walking to the front of Wal-Mart to try & find the shortest check-out line, I saw her. It was just another busy day. We had been home on furlough for several months & I was trying to hurry, get my stuff, & get out, which is pretty much impossible in our small town Wal-Mart. I wasn't in the best mood anyway & didn't feel like talking much. The checker at "the shortest line" was a tattooed, pierced girl who looked "shady" to me. She had already seen me so I was pretty much committed. I just hoped maybe I wouldn't have to talk, avoided eye contact, & was thanking the Lord for how automated our world has become...when I hear this cheerful voice ask me, "How are you today?" I looked up at her face for the first time & was surprised as I saw beautiful, clear, blue eyes. She proceeded to tell me how her day had gone & about the special Easter services her church was having the next few weeks. Church. Really? I as...

You know how you just have "those days?" You find yourself telling your friend, "Yep, it's one of those days." Well, it has definitely been one of those days; one of those weeks really. One of those where everything doesn't go right & your attitude is following suite. We're on Day 4 with no water. It comes on for a little bit at night & fills the tank up enough to do dishes in the morning & flush toilets. Then, it's gone. The power has gone out everyday this week for up to 9 hours at a time. It's super hot & I feel sticky, tired, & pretty much defeated. As we sit & try to do school without a breath of air & the kids have just as much energy as ever, I feel crabby & I just want to go crawl in a dark, cool hole. As I find myself ranting to my poor husband about my woes, (like he can do something about it), I realize something. My vocabulary is full of two little words. "I feel." Feeling are real. Feelin...

Have you ever been so thirsty, you just knew you were going to die if you didn't get some water? I've been pretty thirsty, but I don't think I've ever been at that point. I do know some little guys who have frequented my home a lot lately who act that way though. This is Philippines dry season. Otherwise known as HOT season. The grass turns brown, the ground cracks, & our lush, green paradise dies until rainy season comes again. Water is in short supply & has been known to completely turn off except for a couple hours a day. All living things are pretty desperate for water. We long for rain! The particular little guys I'm referring to are ants. Everywhere I look there are ants. In every cabinet, sink, shower, crack & crevice. I was in the shower yesterday & I watched them as they frantically chased every little drop & stream of the water. Most of the time, I smash every creeping critter with 6 legs or more. But these little guys made me stop ...

Sometimes it just hits me. I have a few second of quiet, when you question your existence. “Am I really here right now? Am I dreaming? It still seems like I should be sitting on my daddy’s knee with my little Bubba, safe & secure in comfort, away from danger & risk. Have I dreamed all of this into existence? Do I really have 2 beautiful kids? Have I really been married for 10 years to a man who far exceeds my every dream?” I find asking these questions. Why can’t my life just be normal? Why can’t it just be like everyone else’s? Why can’t we have some consistency, God? Just one little, consistent thing? Like, knowing how much money we will have this month or can we just have one place instead of five to call home? The life we live is hard. Constant & painful goodbyes. Wiping tears from little eyes because we have to leave Grampy & Grammy again. Hugging my husband in the morning as he goes to fly a tiny plane in the jungle into some of the smallest airst...