What I long for

This one from Bill:

People often ask us, “What do you miss when you're in Peru?” The answer: Cheddar cheese. It is unforgiveable to serve Cincinnati Chili without it. People think we miss Cincinnati Chili, but we don’t. We take it with us. But, we can’t take 4 years of cheese with us. Peru has all the great cheeses from Europe, but muenster or gouda doesn’t cut it on a Coney! So, anyone coming down to visit, must pack their luggage full of cheddar bricks. The same goes for peanut butter. Thankfully, peanut butter lasts a long time. So, we usually had a well stocked American peanut butter library. When we left, I gave a big jar of Crunchy Jiff to a missionary friend. He immediately recognized its value and the strong statement of friendship such a costly gift entailed. There are a million other things that we used to miss, but we’ve learned to live without them; e.g., Snyder’s Pretzels or American Ice Cream. You can buy them in Lima (which is really amazing), but they’re too expensive for daily consumption. So, one learns to live without. Eventually, one’s love for American food is supplanted by a love for Peruvian.

The question of what one misses is very telling. It reveals, in part, the condition of one’s heart—perhaps, even one’s identity. Are you happy on the mission field or are you longing for home and defining “all that is good” as that which is from the U.S.? If the latter question is true, you’re going to suffer as a missionary. It’s like the stages of grief. To be healthy, you’ve got to reach the stage of acceptance. After our first six months, we began to accept our lives in Latin America and adapted our desires, so as to be happy in our calling. But, six months before returning to the U.S. for support raising, our hearts began to stir with a hankering for things American.

I was looking forward to shopping at my favorite grocery store and eating one of my favorite flavors of ice cream. I dreamt of shopping at BIGGS (Home of True Minimum Pricing) and eating Trauth’s Denali Moose Tracks ice cream. I told Colton, “As soon as we hit the ground, I’m off to Biggs for Moose Tracks!”

Then my mom delivered the news—Biggs was bought out. When we arrived at our home, it was late. About 11:00 PM, Colton and I headed off to Biggs. They were always opened. Now, they close at 10:00 PM. If my longings from Peru were a collection of balloons, you could have heard the first one popping. We had to go to Super Wal-Mart. The Super Wal-Mart was built a couple of months before we left for Peru. Knowing we wouldn’t be around long, I never flirted with it. I stayed true to Biggs and hardly gave Super Wal-Mart a glance. But, at 11:00 PM and in need of breakfast cereal and toilet paper, the lights of Super Wal-Mart beckoned me.

A couple days later I went back to Biggs to look for Moose Tracks. Everything was different. They had changed the layout of the store. Pop! There went another balloon. I found the ice cream isle and began to look. They had a huge selection of ice cream brands: Bryers, Edy’s, and Homemade Brand. They even had Greaters, which is the best ice cream on the planet--costing slightly more than imported caviar. They had lots of good brands, but no Trauth. One large section of the freezer case was taken up by Mayfield Ice Cream. Who ever heard of Mayfield before? Pop! All that I had been longing for—a specific experience and a specific flavor—was gone. It reminded me of the time I took Lena to see my childhood home, only to find that a local hospital had bulldozed it for their parking lot. I couldn’t even tell where the house was. No house. No trees. No swing in the back yard. Nothing but a fading memory. I was a man without at home.

A few weeks later, I spoke to the manager of Biggs. Emotionally, I blamed them for bulldozing my dreams and my sense of home. I told him that I missed Trauth’s Moose Tracks. He told me that Trauth quit making ice cream a few years ago. In the last year, Trauth’s Moose Tracks was made by Mayfield and sold under the Trauth brand. Then he showed me the Mayfield Moose Tracks. I put it in my cart, making sure that no one saw me. It was Super Wal-Mart all over again. I was an unfaithful customer.

Beware of what you long for, because it likely isn’t there anymore. Kids grow up. New highways are built. The local barber shop is bulldozed to make room for Starbuck’s drive-through. The world changes and we do too. One can be careful about what we long for, but not about the act of longing. Our hearts have to long for something. It’s encoded in our genes—a longing for home, a desire for the perfect Christmas or a hankering for your grandmother’s soup. Paul, a missionary who was always away from home, felt it in his friendship with Timothy. In 2 Timothy 1:4, he writes, “Recalling your tears, I long to see you, so that I may be filled with joy.” He also experienced it in his longing for heaven. He was torn between the longing to go to his new country (heaven) and the desire to keep working his mission field (earth). In Philippians 1:21-24 he writes, “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know!  I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.”

When we’re in Lima and I miss something from Ohio, I remind myself that these are small sacrifices to make, in order to bring heaven to Peru. And when I’m home in Ohio and I feel like my old identity was bulldozed under by progress, I remind myself that I have a new identity in Christ—it’s just another sign that I wasn’t made for this place. I have a real home in heaven and Jesus is getting it ready for me.

So, what do you long for?

Wounds that Fester and Giving up the Right to Remember

This from Lena:


A few years back, I had developed some emotional wounds from the bumps and bruises that happen in church life (if you don't have any, you haven't delved very far into community!). In fact, I had a list of them. I was able to recite them. And as a fairly dramatic Italian, I could even get you to cry along with me.




It isn't that those injuries were not real. But there comes a time when the wounds begin to emit a certain smell. They get beyond their expiration date, and the telling doesn't bring the same catharsis. In the place of the sense that you have lightened your load a bit, you begin to sense that some unpleasant things are happening in your spirit. The end of your emotionally-spoken sentence finishes with a bitter note, and in your spirit you can sense that your time at the sidelines is over, and that you need to suit up and get back into the game.




Back then, I developed a sort of test to determine how "loosed" my past actually was. I had to give up the right to tell the story. I had to let myself even forget the details that I had rehearsed so many times in my head. I had to cut off the influence of those painful events on my now, and in their place, I had to create--with my hand in the hand of the Lord's--a new interpretation of my past.




Looking back now, I can see how those old wounds led me to a place where I could let go of old roles that the Lord had given me, but was now exchanging for other tasks. I couldn't have released them, and I had no idea how important for my future it was that I was able to love the Master more than the Post. In my mind, they were almost one in the same, but as any mature believer learns, they are NOT. The Lord gives, and He takes away; BLESSED BE THE NAME OF THE LORD!




Honestly, I find myself in that place again. Once again, I am challenging myself to let go of the difficulties we faced in our first term in Latin America. The wounds were even scarier than the last time, but the Lord has spoken. Time to lighten the load. This past Sunday during a marvelous worship service (how I thank God for times like these--I pray you attend a church where those happen!!), the Lord showed me a picture of myself at the edge of a high cliff, where these burdens were tied to me. I took a sharp knife and cut them off, watching them careen crazily into a canyon below, then crash to a million pieces, never to be recovered. I even pictured myself returning to the bottom, starting to try to gather them together again (old habits are hard to break), but finding it impossible, and being relieved. Never again was I going to carry that load. It won't be the last time that I am tempted to meditate on these things; but I will remind myself that they are smashed into a million pieces, and there is no sense gathering them up again. As far as I am concerned, they can join all my sins in the bottom of the sea of forgetfulness!




My prayer is that today, if you find yourself in the same place; if your wounds have begun to have a certain sour note to them; that you would cut them off and let them smash into a million pieces. God has wonderful tasks for you to do that you cannot manage while your hands and your mind are full of what was done to you. Let them smash on the floor of the canyon into a million pieces, let the Lord reinterpret for you the events that caused you so much suffering, and then let Him give you new songs and dreams that are so much easier and pleasant to carry than putrified pain.

Groundhog Bill peeks out of his cave

This from Bill:

I’ve been gone from the blog-sphere for a long time. Apart from our Christmas greetings, I haven’t blogged since August. For those who check here to see how we’re doing--sorry for making you wait and we are doing well, thank you.

The reason I’ve been away is the doctor of ministry degree. I started it 7 years ago and made great progress the first three years. I even completed work during our last itineration. Then we left for language school. My experience is language school was truly formative. The language school’s name is Cincel, which roughly translates to “chisel.” And that is exactly what it felt like. I learned to speak Spanish the way one learns to be an Olympic runner—by being dragged behind a horse. When we got to Peru there was a lot of work to do. I found that being a missionary was a full time job.

After being in Peru for one year, I finally completed a class that had been on hold since I left the states. Then I finished chapter one of the doctoral project (the doctor of ministry version of a dissertation). A few months passed by and I turned in chapter two. I still had one class left to take and, by grace, I finished that in May. (It was on Biblical Theology and I loved it!) Then, we moved back to the states. Our first term in Peru was excellent, but not without significant challenges. Both Lena and I needed to thaw-out from the stress of it all. Our house in Cincinnati needed work, which is a great way to thaw out. It was also time to start re-raising our budget. So, the doctoral progress slowed down—but it didn’t stop. We rearranged the bedrooms in the house, which gave me an office upstairs. It became my sanctuary—otherwise known as “the cave.” One evening, last summer, I took a couple hours off and went to the pool with the kids. Willy asked me, “Are you done writing your book, Dad? … Cuz you don’t go to the pool with us.” Ouch! I told him I wasn’t done yet, but the end was in sight.

Time went by and chapter three was finished. I believe that chapter three is the nail that sealed the door of blogging creativity. I was not able to think about the doctoral work and also write something creative here. My devotional journal also took a vacation during those months. I was still doing my devotions, but there wasn’t a lot of creative reflection going on. It was a worthy trade off. Getting a degree is not easy, but it is worth it. Real learning challenges one to go way outside of one’s comfort zone in the uncomfortable growth zone. That’s where I’ve been.

Over the Christmas holidays, I was able to turn in Chapters four and five—the final chapters. I’ve also compiled most of the appendices. I’m not completely done, yet. There are more edits to do, to get it right. I also have to present the project in Springfield, Missouri, at the end of April. Then I walk the line and officially become Doctor Bill. Working on this degree has been an incredible journey. The classes have transformed my thinking and the friendships I’ve made have been wonderful.

Now, I’m like a groundhog, peeking out of my cave. I’m writing today to say to my family and all my friends, “Thanks for your support.” Thanks for not feeling dissed when I didn’t call or come to some gathering. Thanks for understanding. Thanks for letting me press through and grow.

Ya mean they ain't got no bed?!

This from Lena:

There are moments for me when the day to day realities of the children we work to help become much more real. I will never forget the time I was distributing Christmas presents at a school, and none of the children would open their gifts. I couldn't make it out until I asked a teacher who gently explained to me that this was probably all many of them would receive, and that they didn't want to ruin the paper or open it yet. The girls all watched as the teacher carefully opened one, and slid it out to show the rest, then put it back together again.

Recently, I spoke to a class of four year olds at our church, and I very much wanted to communicate to them how different these children lived from even the humblest who attend our church. I was telling them that in Iquitos, the houses are up on stilts, and many times, if you look into the house as you walk by, you see that there is nothing at all in them--maybe a hammock or something like that. I explained that the children don't sleep on mattresses like we do (most sleep on a pallet of some sort, with a sheet). The children sombered up considerably, and one sweet little one, eyes wide opened, said, "Ya mean they ain't got no BED?!!!"

It was amazing how they suddenly understood how poor these children must be. They got it.

I must admit that I tend to bristle when well-meaning folks say something like, "We got poor people here, you know! You don't need to go so far away to find poverty!" Of course, that is true. But there is the kind of poverty that makes you be careful at the checkout, put back things you are going to need later, and worry about making your mortgage payment. Even then, many of us still have our education, our way of seeing ourselves, which elevates us and makes us eligible for moving on and achieving a brighter future. We usually have some resource, even if that is moving in with our parents until we find our footing again.

There is a kind of poverty that crushes. It keeps kids from getting a decent education because their lives are chaotic. It keeps their brains and bodies from developing as they should because they are malnourished. It isn't fair. Sometimes I just can't get my mind around how many of our students are forced to live. I see something that sets off that "Ya mean they ain't got no bed?!!" sort of reaction. I don't have anywhere in my mind to put a child who doesn't have a bed, or who doesn't have any love or affection in their lives, or gets nothing for Christmas. I hope that I never get used to it!

Merry Christmas!

Dear Friends,

Four years ago, we celebrated Christmas in our home in Cincinnati. We had a little tree because we had packed our belongings for the mission to Peru. Now, four years later, we’re happy to have the chance to celebrate Christmas with our families and friends, again. We’re back in the states, hugging loved ones and raising our budget for another tour of duty in Peru. It’s been an incredible journey. I’ve attached a Christmas photo from four years ago and one from today. As you can see, the kids have grown—especially Colton! I believe that Lena and I have grown just as much on the inside. I can say with certainty that we’re grateful for what the Lord has done in us and through us in Peru. We feel honored to have the chance to serve Jesus on the mission field.

We have two important prayer requests:

1.     Healing for Lena’s father. He’s recovering from lung cancer and recently had surgery to remove a brain tumor. So far, he’s doing very well.

2.    God’s blessing in raising our budget to return to Peru. We hope to return this summer. Please pray for a full schedule of church services and for new financial partners.

We’re blessed by the many friends who’ve made it possible for us to go on the mission field and for those who’ve welcomed us now that we’re back in the states. May the Lord bless all of you richly this Christmas.

¡Feliz Navidad!

Bill, Lena, Hannah, Colton, Will and Abigail

Keeping My Cloak Tucked

I keep running up against a wall of reality here in Ohio during our year of itineration. It goes something like this: "Oh, what a nice something-or-other! I like that something-or-other! I would like to have it!--Oh, wait. No something-or-other for me. It won't fit in the 12 boxes going back to Peru, so there is no use having that." Hmmm.

Now, I want you all to know that I do NOT feel bad for myself for not amassing something-or-others. And I have already taken on so many somethings that there is no room for others. As a matter of fact, I view the need to live simply as a great blessing, because this is the way us believers need to live. We must hold loosely to the things of this earth, and I have great reminder that I am on a journey that will end with me leaving this earth the way I came into it--without something-or-others. Twelve boxes for six people is a good little preliminary preparation.

I have been reading in Exodus, where the Israelites were told, in anticipation of their flight from Egypt, to eat the sacrificial lamb or goat and the unleavened bread "with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet, and your staff in your hand." (Exodus 12:11). In other words, they were to have their jogging suits on, their tennies tied, and be poised to leave at a moment's notice.

The problem is, my cloak keeps untucking. It is so easy to sit back and lose my awareness that the days are short here, that I am to be about getting back to Peru, and not focused on settling in here. But I am not the only one who needs to tuck their cloak. There is a growing awareness in the Body of Christ that these are serious days, when the fates of men are being sealed, and that our windows of opportunity to reach people for Christ are closing. The earth itself seems to be stirring in anticipation of the return of Christ.

Keeping my cloak tucked means that my greatest investment is in knowing Christ and doing the work of the Gospel. It means that I act like someone sending their treasures on ahead, not storing them all here. That my heart is to progress in the journey, not to settle into a lifestyle of comfort.

My prayer for all of us this holiday season is that our hearts be set on pilgrimage. When we do, we will look different from the rest. Hebrews 11 lists heroes of faith who "admitted they were strangers and aliens on this earth" (Hebrews 11:13). "They were longing for a better country-a heavenly one"(Hebrews 11:16). Lord help us to eat our Thanksgiving turkeys and Christmas ham with our cloaks tucked. Fill our hearts with longing for the heavenly country that you have waiting for us. The best is yet to come!

Our Secret Weapon

This from Lena:

"So, how did you all land in Peru?"

This question is one that could launch us into a long recital of all the miraculous things that God did to get us to Peru. I never get bored of telling it, because every time I do, I feel the awesomeness--the undeniable way the Lord sent us there. The day-to-day of being a missionary can be a trying experience at times. You don't understand so many things, and as you are there longer, you start to see how YOU and not THEM will have to do the adjusting! It can be exhausting, although rewarding, even if your reward is simply that you know that you obeyed when the Lord told you to go.
There is something profound that happens when we tell our story-- I lose focus on the struggles we have faced, and in it's place, His face comes into view, and I know that He is with me. My own testimony encourages me, causes the lies of the devil to lose their power, and gives the glory to the Lord.
Revelations 12:11 says "They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death." The sacrifice of Jesus for our sins paired with our testimony of what the Lord has done for us is our key to overcome the devil. The more I declare that God is good, the more that I pass on to others of how God has revealed Himself to me, the stronger and bigger threat I become.
Our testimony is so important. Bill and I have always tried to keep track of the miraculous things that God does for us, and tell these things, like we are looking through a picture album of our lives, noting all the important moments. I believe with all my heart that all of God's children have a testimony, and that some are beaten down because they keep forgetting all that He has done for them. Slowly, we can become weary because we have quieted our testimonies and have listened to "alternative translations" of the story that erase the miraculous.

We are blessed, because it is part of our job to tell the story. I pray that the Lord touch your heart and mind even now, reminding you of all that He has done for you, and that it will mean so much to you that you do not "love your lives so much as to shrink from death" because of how much it means. And if you never felt like you had a very special story of how the Lord rescued you, I pray that He would touch your mind and show you the true story of how you came to be His. Blessings!

Prayer Request for 33 trapped miners

Please pray for the 33 miners who are trapped underground in Chile. As I read the news about them, my heart is sad and fearful. The experts say that if they are successfully rescued, it is not humanly possible to do so for 3 months. They're telling the guys that they will hopefully be out by Christmas. It may not be humanly possible, but God is greater than a drill. Let's pray that God sends wise, gifted engineers to figure this out in a matter of days, rather than months.

From my perspective, this is looking like the gulf oil spill, where greedy corporations (the men are trapped in a gold mine) have created a mess that can't be fixed in a minute--and average working people are suffering. Unlike the oil spill, we have videos of these guys trapped underground, while their families hold a vigil 1/2 mile above them.

Here are the names of the 33 men:
Alex Vega Salazar, Ariel Ticona Yanez, Carlos Bugueno Alfaro, Calros Barrios Contreras, Carlos Mamani Solis, Claudio Acuna Cortes, Claudio Yanez Lagos, Daniel Herrera Campos, Dario Segovia Rojas, Edison Penaa Villarroel, Esteban Rojas Carrizo. Florencio Avalos Silva, Franklin Lobos Ramirez, Jimmy Sanchez Lagues, Jorge Galleguillos, Jose Ojeda Vidal, Jose Henriquez Gonzalez, Juan Illanes Palma, Juan Aguilar Gaete, Luis Alberto Urzua, Mario Gomez Heredia and Mario Seplveda Espina. Omar Orlando Reygada Rojas, Osman Isidro Araya Acuna, Pablo Amadeos Rojas Villacorta, Pedro Cortez, Raul Enriquez Bustos Ibanez, Renan Avalos Silva, Richard Villarroel Godoy, Samuel Avalos Acuna, Victor Segovia Rojas, Victor Zamora Bugueno, Yonny Barrios Rojas

The Blind See

This from Bill:

I believe in and have seen the gift of healing in operation. I also believe that God has given us doctors as a gift and that sometimes, God chooses to heal through his faithful servants who work in the medical profession. Therefore, we've had the incredible joy of praying for individuals and seeing them miraculously healed at the church altar. We've also had the joy of taking someone to the doctor who couldn't have otherwise gone. Cindy* is an example of both. She attends one of our schools in the Andes mountains. The pastor who oversees the school called and and told me that she was going blind, but that her conditon was treatable. The only problem, her family lives in extreme poverty and going to Lima for an operation would be impossible for them. The pastor asked if Latin America ChildCare could help. I said yes! With help from the Extreme Poverty Fund, LACC paid for Cindy to come to Lima for surgery and glasses. I saw Cindy after the surgery and she was incredibly happy. The picture above is her "before" shot. The one below is after the surgery, wearing her new glasses. She's not smiling in the picture below, because she's incredibly shy! But, when the camera wasn't on her, she was all smiles and was grateful for the gift of sight.

Thanks to all our LACC sponsors for your faithful giving. You've brough the gospel, hope and a better future to Cindy and her family.

Spirtual Gestation

This from Lena:

"Mom, I really want to go to South Africa."

I had noticed that most of Hannah's old friends from church were going on the trip, and I realized that she would feel lonely and a bit left out of things while they were gone, but I hadn't once considered her going. One of the moms, an old friend from church had broached the topic with me (of Hannah maybe going), and I brushed if off quickly and easily. After all, Hannah was only just coming from the mission field, we were exhausted from having only recently arrived in the States, and were struggling to make our old house living-ready, watching the earnings from having rented it disappear. So I went with my first instinct, and said a resounding "No!" Bill, always the less impulsive parent of the two of us, gave a more reason-centered answer. He said that she could go if she could raise the money. Almost as good as a no.

I softened (like I usually do) and told Hannah that she at least had to write to pastor Dele and find out what we would have to do to get her on that trip. She was scared, but I told her that this was good practice--that anything worth having in life requires a little fight from us. Little did I know that her letter would move the hearts of our pastoral staff and others to get behind her and put her on that flight with her friends. All of this happened in the space of a week and a half, from start to finish. At one point, we were even grappling with the possibility of putting her on a flight by herself, to catch up with the rest of the team in Johannesburg. Oh my.

My point? At some point in all of this process, I felt the control of it completely leave my hands. Hannah was praying, seeking God's will, fasting. And as I continued to "raise issues" with the process, explaining why it couldn't happen, or wouldn't be prudent, the Lord seemed to be turning to me and saying, "Thank you for your services. I greatly appreciate your input. Hannah's roots have now matured to the point that she and I can have private conversations that don't involve you. So, I'll take it from here."

We know that when a child turns 7, they start losing teeth. When they turn 16, they get a driver's license. But when does a child reach their full spiritual gestation period? When they start going to the Lord on their own, hearing His voice for themselves. At that point, even though I may be kept on as a "consultant," my full-time job as interpreter of God's will for their lives is over. And they might be 15 or 20, but when that happens, it is over. I was shocked, and yet I knew it was true. My baby girl was working out her own salvation.

So, here is my celebration of Hannah's spiritual independence. Like all those other benchmarks of growth, I will adjust to the changes it brings, but I know that this one is supremely important, and will guide all the rest of the decisions of her life far better than if I stayed that "contact person" for God. She went to South Africa, blessed a lot of orphans, and even received some words from the Lord for her life. It will be a pleasure to watch it unfold.

On Coming Home

This from Lena:

The first thing almost all our friends ask us is, “How does it feel to be home?” In one sense, it is easy to answer. I cannot deny that on cold, dark Lima days (of which there are many), I often dream about Ohio summers, truly hot days that drive us to the neighborhood pool, being home with our family. It has been fabulous to be with all our old friends. We were quite established in our lives when we left to follow the Lord’s leading to Peru, and so there are many with whom we want to meet and catch up.

Still, there is a part of us that knows that we are going back, and there is a yellow caution light in our emotional wirings that lets us know that it is dangerous to care too much about WHICH new flooring to put down, how we decorate our old house, even warning us that connecting with all the things and people we love will make leaving home a lot like it was the first time we left….hard.

So, the house is looking good, and we are going about renewing our investment in it. The old girl was sorely in need of some repairs and maintenance, and we are doing all we can to get it done right. But it won’t get our hearts the way it did before. It is, after all, just a house. But about those friends and loved ones….

We just keep on loving them. With a number of my best girlfriends, I burst into tears when I first see them. It is like I was waiting until it was safe to release my feelings about needing to leave them in the first place, and this was the first time in four years that I could. And now things are complicated, because I have friends back in Lima who I am missing!

So how does it feel to be home?

Great! But home has started to morph into somewhere that doesn't exist in the earth, but does in my heart, where my dear friends and family both here and in Peru somehow meld together into one place, and I don't have to miss any of them. It is a place where I know I am called to work and love, and still can be with those I share so much history and have loved a long time.

Work while it is day

Since being back in the states, we've been asked two questions: How does it feel to be home? And, are we going back? The answer to the first question is "Great!" Being home is fabulous--it is warm here, my mother is a great cook, and people all speak the same language. We're also enjoying how clean and green Ohio is. The transition has been somewhat difficult physically, but very rewarding emotionally. So many friends and family members have helped us, I don't know if I've ever felt so loved and supported. (Thanks everyone!)

So, if it's so great being home, are we planning to return to Peru? Absolutely! There is yet much work to be done. Our first term was very successful, in terms of accomplishing our ministry goals, and that gave us a rewarding sense of accomplishment. But it wasn't a complete sense of accomplishment. Rather, the first term now feels like it was a prelude to the real victories that are yet to come--especially now that we know much more of the language and culture. Some missionaries who feel like I do, feel constrained or hindered by the need to return to the states, but I feel very much the opposite. Rather than feeling like itineration has taken me from the work, I feel like it's part of the work. I'm eager to share about the miracles that God is doing and I'm eager for our friends and supporting churches to understand how valuable their partnership is. So, I feel blessed to be a part of the work and blessed to share the fruit of it with those who've sacrificed to make it possible. And, as much as I'm enjoying being home, I'm aware of the continuing harvest that awaits us in Peru. The Holy Spirit is transforming the lives of hundreds of families in Peru. I want to put my hand to the plow with Jesus and work while it is still day!

Prayer Requests

1.       Our AC/heat pump is dead.
2.       Our daughter (Hannah) is going on a missions trip to South Africa with the youth group from First Christian Assembly. The dates are July 18-30. We’d like to ask for prayer for Hannah, for protection, spiritual fruit, and financial support. She has not had much time to raise pledges for this trip, since she found out about it when we arrived in the states two weeks ago. Lena and I could use prayer, also, for calm nerves. Letting Hannah go on this trip is far more frightening than our trips in the jungle!
3.       Inspiration for me as I write chapter three of my doctoral project. I need big inspiration, fast!
4.       Favor in booking services for our itineration and the completion of our new budget.
5.       Friends for our four kids—Hannah (15), Colton (13), Will (7), and Abi (5). Also that they’re transition into public school (Kings) would go smoothly. May the Lord give them kind and considerate teachers.
6.       Wisdom regarding our auto situation and over all the financial decisions that we have to make to live here for a year. It’s difficult figuring out what justifies an expense.

It's a snack cracker

I snapped this picture while driving through Lima. "Kraps" is a snack cracker. I think they were going for something that sounds like "crisp" or "crackle." Even though everyone in the marketing department studied English in High School, no one took a class in street lingo. So, the next time you're on your way to a party and someone says, "I brought the cheese." You can say, "Great, because I got the ..." Well, maybe you should just say, "...snack crackers."

Home ... for a time

From Bill:

We returned to the U.S. two weeks ago. We're here to share the adventure of God's glorious calling with the individuals and churches that have partnered with us. The transition back has been good overall. The weather is very hot, near 100. Our A/C is out of commission. Nonetheless, I love the heat. I like taking a cold shower before going to bed and feeling the night air blown in by a window fan--it feels like camping!

We've moved back into our old home. We rented it to a family while we were gone. Before we left for Peru, I asked them how long they wanted to rent it and they said, "Until you get back." It is another demonstration of how God takes care of so many things. Coming back to our old house and the friends in the neighborhood has been a huge blessing. We're very grateful that we don't have to start over from scratch. Nonetheless, in our time away, the house has aged and so have my kids. This created the need to freshen things up considerably. When we left, Abi was sleeping in a crib in our room. At the age of 5, she's a bit big for that. We needed another bedroom. As such, We hired a contractor to convert the laundry room into a bedroom and to put a shower into the half bath. That work is still being completed. The unfinished part of that work and the fact that we have no furniture has left us a little bit in limbo, but each day we're closer to completion. There's something fulfilling about working on your house in the summer. I remember in our early years of marriage, I would take a week off in the summer to repair/paint the old house we lived in. It was always a fun time of teamwork for Lena and I. This project has brought back those memories.

It's been great seeing our families and enjoying summer. I inherited by father's old grill. It's a Weber gas model with a porcelain grate. It's been in storage for 4 years but still works great. We've grilled some mighty tasty burgers--at 10:00 PM. The time change and late sunsets have totally confused our bodies. In Peru, the sun sets before 6:00 pm (which is a sign that it's time to eat dinner). Here, the sun does not set until 9:30! Abi keeps protesting, "How can it be bed time ... it's still light out?!"

Do we love being home? Yes. Do we miss Peru? Yes. This aspect of the transition is like the time change and the late sunset. It confuses the emotions. It feels great to be back, but always with the knowledge and hope  that we're returning to Peru. We have a purpose that is greater than enjoying the beauty and warmth of hom. Ohio is far cleaner and more beautiful than Peru, but I can't hold it too tightly. I know that we are here to advance the calling the Lord has given us for Peru. Knowing that enables me to both enjoy my time here and also to carry the hope of what God is going to do in and through us when we return to the land of our calling.