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The Comfort Zone…

Originally posted on Walking After Midnight...:

“You are about to enter another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Comfort Zone!”  (cue creepy music)

Yesterday the first team that Dan and I were involved with this summer left to head back home.  They were a smallish team–just 11 people–and a shortish team–just 8 days.  They worked hard and connected hard, and I honestly think that when they got back on that plane, they knew that it had been good.

It’s been awhile since I interacted with a team at this level.  True, I wasn’t at the project with them each day–my knee has become a bit of a professional liability–but I had dinner with them every night and got to really chat with them.  It was neat to see their hearts expand as the week went on, and to…

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We made it home!

Originally posted on Walking After Midnight...:

I know you all thought I dropped off the face of the earth.  Sorry about that.  We did indeed fly home to Quito on the 24th of May, although it didn’t go quite like I expected it to.

Dan and I ended up with two different routes to Miami.  Patrick and I flew through JFK and Dan flew through Chicago, and we met up in Miami.  When Patrick and I arrived at JFK, we had just enough time to race to the other end of the terminal and catch our connecting flight.  In all of the chaos, I ended up twisting my knee very badly, tearing both the meniscus and the ACL.  By the time we arrived in Quito, I could not walk.  Fortunately Dan had asked in Miami for a wheelchair or I would probably still be sitting on the plane waiting for someone to get me out of…

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We made it home!

We made it home!.

Rainy days and Mondays…

findingcyndi:

Thinking out loud this morning…

Originally posted on Walking After Midnight...:

Talkin’ to myself and feelin’ old
Sometimes I’d like to quit
Nothing ever seems to fit
Hangin’ around
Nothing to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down. 

(“Rainy Days and Mondays” ~The Carpenters)

Sometimes, even in the middle of the best of everything, my soul gets soggy.  I need for Someone to wring me out and hang me over a clothesline somewhere to dry.

These last several weeks have made me weary.  We lost our “fifth child” as our Nick left Ecuador to move to South Africa and begin the task of opening up the Extreme Response presence there.  It’s wonderful.  It’s exciting.  And it hurt my heart, just like it did when my three children left and went to college.

Two weeks ago, I had surgery on my hand.  In my mind, I would be up and around within a day or so, back to…

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This and that, and why I think I’m pretty boring.

Originally posted on Walking After Midnight...:

I got an email yesterday from a long-time friend/supporter that I only know through the electronic world.  Electronically, she’s a dear, sweet person.  She started off her note by telling me how she couldn’t do what I do, and that if the Lord had called her she would have just argued with Him until He went away.  I tried that, Sweet Sister.  Doesn’t work.

We’ve had an uneventful Sunday around here.  Church this morning.  My blood sugar did That Thing again, the one where I end up lying on the floor in a storage room in the church basement sweating and shaking and sick to my stomach with the black parts around the edge of my vision, until all of a sudden it’s over and I’m fine again.  I have no idea what causes it, and I don’t know how to fix it, and my doctor has no idea what…

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Pink.

findingcyndi:

Time for a laugh.

Originally posted on Walking After Midnight...:

OK.  Time to lighten things up a little bit around here.  The following incident took place in February of 2005.  It’s all true–every bit of it.  No names have been changed, because trust me–there were no innocent people in this one!  It is still the story that people remember most.

2/18

       What a week.  And that was just yesterday.  Our children were off of
school Wednesday and Thursday due to two days of political protests here in
Quito.  Basically, they were trying to oust the President.  And no, I don’t
have any clue whether or not they were successful.  Thursday, I had to work.
I told Heather and Kristina that they could have a friend over, as my maid
is there on Thursday.  Dan and I went home for lunch at noon, and the first
thing that greets us, tail wagging, is a PINK German Shepherd.  Followed by
a pink…

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The Missionary’s Prayer

This morning I have been going through some things that I wrote way back when we first arrived on the field.  Things have changed so much since then.  This one particularly stuck out to me, for two reasons.  One, I wrote it in July of 2004, when we had been on the field for only seven months.  I wasn’t jaded or cynical at that point.  And two, I need to be reminded in my current jaded, cynical state that we are here for a reason, and it really has nothing to do with my own personal comfort.  Even after 10 years, I have so far to go…

The Missionary’s Prayer

   Father, help me to love these people as you love them.  Remind me that “Their ways are not my ways, nor are their thoughts my thoughts.”  Forgive my selfish pride in thinking that my way is always the best way.  Help me to see the differences between us as strengths, rather than weaknesses.  When I feel wronged, and I will, remind me that I am to forgive others as you have forgiven me.  I pray that they will also forgive me my trespasses, which will be many.
   When the opportunity for love comes my way, allow me to put off my foolish ideas.  Do not let an opportunity to show your love to someone pass, simply because I am worried about physical things.  I have the blessing of going home and washing, while many here do not.  When I am offered a meal of foods that are strange to me, prepared by hands that I do not know, remind me to accept it graciously and enjoy it in the spirit of sacrifice in which it is offered.    Take me beyond the ragged exterior to the heart within.
   When I am asked to be in places that offend my sensibilities, remind me that you left Heaven to come to a world that offended everything in you.  Yes, the places here where people live are dirty, and I wonder that they can survive in a garbage dump, or a village with no clean running water…You saw earth in much the same way.  Allow me to look past the physical to the eternal, as you did for me.  
   My purpose here is not to change their way of life, but to embrace it, and to see the beauty that their traditions merit.  Show me the wonder in their worship, in their music…in their living.  And when at last you call us home, I will find the joy that comes with kneeling at your feet with my brothers from this foreign land.  And our understanding of each other will be complete.

” So neither he who plants not he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow…”
                                                                                                                       1 Corinthians 3:7

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