Family Update

Hey everyone (all 3 of you that read this blog)! I just wanted to give a quick update on the family. All is going well here in Costa Rica. We are about halfway through our studies at the language institute. Jenn is really learning a lot. She is not totally comfortable speaking yet but she has really improved over the past couple of months. She has been studying circles around me this trimester. Shame on me!

Jordan will probably end up being the best Spanish speaker in our family. He tries to say stuff constantly and practices the stuff he learns each day. He has no fear of being wrong.

Trevor keeps his Spanish abilities a mystery. He really doesn't like to speak in English to people he is not comfortable with, so he definitely doesn't want to use Spanish. He is probably like a Spanish speaking Ninja. One day he will probably appear out of nowhere and destroy everyone with his linguistic abilities. Until that day comes, I will continue to wonder if he can say anything more than "hola" and "gracias."

My experience this trimester has been a little weird. My teacher was flying through the book early on in the term. I barely had time to figure out the rule we were about to be tested over before she moved on to the next rule. I feel like my speaking ability has digressed a little but I'm not sure. I just have a ton of grammatical rules floating around in the empty space between my ears. Some days it comes out of my mouth better than others.

One difficult thing about our life is having to say goodbye all the time. In a little over a month many of the friends we have made at school will leave for their countries of service. Realistically, we will never see most of them again. That kind of stinks when we've already had to do that once when we left the states. But that is the life to which God has called us and we are excited about being used by Him.

Microphone Monkey-Bone

This is what my hair becomes if I let it grow out for about 5 weeks.

Anytime your hairdo draws comparison to a microphone with a fuzzy windscreen, that is never good. I basically have a recipe for hair disaster: 1 part matted down, 1 part cowlick, 2 parts going every-which-way and a dash of gray. I was reaching my breaking point lastnight so I decided to buzz my hair which is my normal custom. Jenn usually goes over it when I'm done and then trims the back and sides with a shorter attatchment. However, she was already asleep. So I decided I could go as-is for a day or so until she had a chance to finish the job.
Today, fresh off a mediocre self-administered haircut, I was the subject of another hair story. While sitting on the floor with a group of 20 or so 6-8 year olds, I began to retell the Bible story we had just heard. They were all listening fairly intently with little to no distractions (gracias a Dios). My friend Karen was sitting in the circle across from me holding one of the kids and I saw her looking at what was going on behind me. I knew there was some activity back there but none of the other kids seemed bothered by it so we pressed on with the story. [Then, as a sidenote unrelated to hair, a boy began to poke at my ginormous adam's apple and say "hueso, hueso" or "bone, bone." Did my man think I had a chicken bone lodged in my windpipe or what? I'm not sure, but it was funny.]
Shortly after the "hueso sighting" I began to feel atleast 2 different girls leaning on my back and messing with my hair. Strange, but then again not really. As I continued asking questions to the group I caught a glimpse of Karen's eyes. I could only see her eyes because she was deliberately covering the rest of her face with her Bible as she was laughing at these 2 girls. Afterwards, she told me it looked like two little monkeys grooming the bigger monkey. Never before have I felt like such a well-groomed, microphonic monkey gagging on a chicken wing!!!

The voice of Darwin

Last week I had the opportunity to share my personal testimony with a group of children at La Carpio. I was so excited to have the chance to share something personal with them. I had a good feeling as they all gathered around to listen to what I was going to say. "This is going to be good," I thought to myself.
That's when I heard it. It was the strangest thing I've experienced since arriving in CR and it caught me off guard. It was the audible voice of Darwin. Of all the audible voices to hear, why would I be hearing that one? Perhaps a better question would be: "Why is Darwin yelling 'Gringo como frijol, Gringo como frijol'."(White man like a bean, White man like a bean.)
Darwin (pronounced: Dar-bean no pun intended) was the 8 year old boy sitting on the floor right in front of me. He thought it was hilarious and it had the potential to really distract everything that was about to be discussed. I asked him if he was really saying what I thought I was hearing. He was and I thanked him for sharing. As it turned out, Darwin was one of the most attentive listeners that day and he participated in the conversation. I pulled him aside later and really bragged on him. I told him I was proud of him and I was impressed with how he changed his attitude and behavior. He had that bashful 'Aw Shucks' look on his face and he had a hard time receiving compliments. It was a cool moment for me and a little sad at the same time.
I'm challenged to reach out to the Darwins in my life. That could have turned out so differently and usually does with me. However, the Lord gave extra patience in that moment and only he knows exactly what Darwin needs and when he needs it. May Darwin come to know Jesus personally at an early age like I did.

Dirty Hands

Before I left the States, I worked at UPS for 12 years. In those 12 years I learned exactly what to expect when I went to work:

1. the work would be tough
2. my body would hurt at some point during the shift
3. my clothes would get filthy
4. my hands would be dirty when I left work

Not a day went by that I didn't experience all 4 of those truths. Now I am studying Spanish in Costa Rica. I haven't stepped foot inside a warehouse for 10 months (praise God). However, this week I began to see the similarities between working at UPS and working at La Carpio:

1. the work is tough- breaking up fights, having patience with kids who are making fun of a special needs child, trying to shout the Bible story loud enough that a bunch of rowdy kids can hear it over the rain beating down on the aluminum roof.
2. my body hurts at some point- I've been jack-slapped upside the back of my head by a little girl who just wanted some attention, grabbed around the neck, jumped on, almost tackled multiple times, accidentally poked in the back with a pencil by the boy who was using me as his desk.
3. my clothes get dirty- I know not to wear khakis on Thursday. Jeans and a dark Tshirt are the only way to go when you know you'll be sitting on a dirty floor, wrestling little guys who are wearing dirty clothes, navigating mud puddles, and avoiding the occasional random mangy dog that might wander through the building.
4. my hands get dirty- we use those cheap inflatable balls that Wal-Mart sells out of that sky-high wire basket in the middle of the toy section. They are dirt magnets and the kids love to go wild with those things. At any given moment 6 or 7 of those things could be flying around the room. We sit in the floor with the kids. We pick up the trash they have been throwing on the floor for the past hour.

When was the last time you got your hands dirty? I don't ask that in order to draw attention to anything I have done. When I was in the States I lived a pretty sterile life. I was good at operating within my comfort zone (i.e. being around people who were like me). I missed out on being a blessing to others and being blessed by them.

I've been thinking about who Jesus hung out with. It wasn't the people in his Sunday School class, or his pastor, or the middle-class guy that lived across the street. Jesus hung out with fishermen, prostitutes, and tax collectors (dudes that ripped people off for a living). I'm pretty sure his hands were getting dirty. I'm challenged (and commanded) to do the same.

Childish Thoughts

I've been asked on more than one occasion recently, "Why haven't you updated your blog?" I can really only think of 2 reasons: 1- I'm a loser. And B- I guess I just haven't had anything to say (kind of like now, except I'm typing something anyway). You know you haven't blogged in awhile when you forget your own blog address.

La Carpio
That is the name of the barrio(neighborhood) where we have started helping with a children's ministry. This is one of the poorest areas I have seen in CR. Most of the people are Nicaraguan immigrants and generally there is a lot of racism directed toward them by the Ticos. Each Thursday afternoon we have a Bible story, games, and activities for a group of elementary kids. Usually, the group numbers between 50-100 (give or take 50-100). Honestly, it's hard to get that many excited kids to sit still long enough to count them. But hey, who's counting anyway?
These sweet kids are desperate for attention. When they see us pulling up in the van they start waving and smiling. Actually, everyone that sees this van starts smiling (that would be because we have 22 or so gringos packed into a 15 passenger van). But hey, who's counting anyway?
I had the opportunity to teach the Bible story this week in Spanish! It was actually not as intimidating as I thought it might be. The Lord helped me get through the lesson without making any of the dreaded pronunciation mistakes, which you find out later was actually the correct pronuciation of some word you would never say in a Bible study or to 100 children. Praise God!!!
Some of the other leaders can't go this week so I get to teach again:) I love to teach children that Jesus loves them. When I was a child I admitted to Jesus that I was a sinner and I needed his forgiveness and I wanted to follow Him. I know first hand how God can work in the heart of a child. Jesus said you can't enter the kingdom of heaven unless you become like a little child. When I came to Christ as a child it was very basic, very simple: I knew I had done things that God says not to do (that is the definition of sin); Sinners go to Hell (Holy God doesn't allow sin in His presence); Jesus died on the cross for my sins so I wouldn't have to go to Hell (He took my place because He loves me). That is the Gospel (the Good News) and children can understand its simplicity. As adults, we tend to over-analyze or add junk to it. I mean after all, we're the educated ones right? I guess it just depends on who you ask.

I Smell Cookies

Today was the first day back to school for the boys. Their teachers survived and everyone seemed to have a lot of fun. Afterwards, we went with a group of 20 or so to an extremely poor barrio (neighborhood) called "La Carpio" to minister to the children there. It was similar to some things we have done in Mexico with our homechurch. We played games, sang songs, told a Bible story, and had some activities related to the story. All the kids were very sweet and you could tell they loved the attention they received.

At the end, I saw one of the regular workers passing out some cookie packets to some of the kids. Somehow my kids each ended up with a pack. I told them they should give them to one of the other kids because they never get treats like that. It was a no brainer for my oldest. He quickly went to another boy and in his best spanish asked the little guy if he wanted some cookies. "Si, gracias," was the response he heard.

My youngest was not on board with giving away something he already had in his possession. After all, he is only 6. He began to chow down like the cookie-monster ending a 40 day fast. As he was nearing the end of the package we noticed the skinniest little dog you can imagine. This poor, hairy, skeleton of a canine was walking up to everyone looking for something to eat. A couple of us began to coax my son into giving his last cookie to this hungry little dog. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was peer-pressure but he put the cookie on the ground for the dog to eat. That scraggly little pup timidly approached the cherished morsel, gave it a couple of good sniffs and quickly decided that sometimes it's just better to be hungry. I want to know who picked THAT snack. As for the fate of the rejected cookie, last I saw, some kids were trying to feed it to some random chicken walking down the street. Try to find a street like that back home.

Waste Not

I'm just going to pretend like the last 3 weeks never happened so I won't feel guilty for not updating my blog for the 2 people that actually read it. Actually, it was a time filled with final exams at language school, an oral proficiency exam, and a visit/vacation with my parents. Not fun, Not fun, and fun (respectively).

The past couple of months God has put a thought/idea/truth on my heart that I think of everyday and I want to throw it out there for you to consider. "Worship is never wasted" This is the thought that I wake up with and carry with me throughout the day. When I close my eyes at night it is there.
Now let me explain what the Lord has shown me in these 4 words. Over the past 2-3 months we have learned: One of our dear friends was diagnosed with cancer; A missionary colleague and mother of 5 suddenly died on the mission field; A young college graduate died in a car accident while serving as a summer missionary in Peru; A friend of ours had to return from her field of service due to back surgery. That is a lot of disheartening news over such a short period of time. All of these individuals love/loved the Lord and are/were following Him in obedience. As I began to think about 'worship' God showed me something. The very root of true worship is obedience. It is impossible to worship the Lord while you are walking in disobedience. If you haven't tried it, Don't (just take my word for it).
When most people think of a 30 something dad of 3 young boys having cancer, or a mother of 5 dying suddenly, or a recent college grad dying tragically, or a 22-23 yr. old with back surgery to the point she has to go home from the mission field they think, "What a waste!" Honestly, that was my initial reaction to such news. That's where it all started. I still see the news as extremely sad but I have a new perspective.
As a christian, I am called to offer myself as a living sacrifice to God. This is an act of worship. God knows the details. He knows I have a wife, 2 young sons, that my desire is to tell people how to have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ, that I'm a "good person" or whatever. He knows all of that. But if something happens to me or my family while we are walking in obedience does that make God bad or unloving? I say, "No!" We live the way we live out of worship, not for some earthly reward. If our lives of worship are "cut short" or altered, they will be "cut short" or altered by the one receiving our worship. By the one who doesn't allow worship to be wasted.