April 30, 2012
The Desires of My Heart
As a child, I was always begging to move. We lived in a lovely small community with
tons of extended family within walking distance, and I knew the names of
practically every other student in my entire school. Nice
and comfy. Sounds cozy, huh? Well, I couldn’t fight the urge to
get on my bicycle and take off.
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I love change, big crowds, strangers. And I thrive on exciting
new places and people and experiences. In
another time, I would have been a pirate, minus all that looting and
pillaging and such. I’d be the pirate
who walked out on the plank beside the bad guys to be sure they repented before
taking the plunge.
And my biggest phobia? Well, I don’t particularly care for heights, but
that’s another story. My biggest fear
has always been mediocrity. I hate
it. I get hyped up reading those scriptures where
God calls us “a peculiar people,” and sets us apart for His purposes, and just imagining coming to the end of my life with
the realization that I’d not taken any risks for Him, not gone out on a limb,
not seen how far I could stretch or how much He could use me for, well, that’s
just terrifying.
So logically, when God tugged at my heart hit me with a freight train about foreign
missions, I questioned
if that was His voice or just my adventure-around-every-corner, can’t-settle-for-normal,
let’s-meet-new-people self. I read all
sorts of articles about missions while waiting for God to smack my husband with
the freight train, and several spoke about being sure I heard from God, being
sure it was His voice rather than my own wanderlust. I prayed about that a lot, but the longer I’m
in this thing, the less I’m sure it’s that easy to separate His calling from
the adventurous spirit He put in me. Let’s
look a bit at Psalm 37:4,
Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.
This is one of those scriptures that seem so
straightforward, but I’m seeing it in a new light lately. What if instead of “Be cool with God and He’ll
give you that thing you most want,” we read it as, “Find your joy in God, and
He will plant desires—give you desires—in your heart.” Meaning, the things that I most desire will
be because HE gave me that longing. He wants me to yearn for it.
Then was it that craving for adventure that drew me here? I hope so.
After all, He’s not a tame lion.
He’s a God of crazy things, of the impossible, of dares and challenges
and giants and fiery furnaces and walking on water. He's the God of two unqualified, independent, clumsy Americans wanting to reach folks a couple of decades younger than them, a few trillion miles from home.
So I have to believe that God gave me the
wanderlust. He knew me in my Mama’s womb, designing me with His plan for my
life in mind. Without that crazy sense
of adventure to drive me, I don’t know how I’d have stood being in a place
where not much is familiar, where I’m terribly lost, and where I didn’t know a
soul except those who came with me. I
don’t know how I’d look these people in the eye and convince them that I really
do think their land is beautiful, that they are special and that I want to hear
their stories so I can tell them mine.
So I can share about a God so loving that He plants desires in our
hearts, then fulfills them as we find our delight in Him.
What desires has God given you? Have you written them off as just "you," or have you accepted that He may have a purpose in your quirky peculiarities?
April 23, 2012
Memorial Service for Timmy and Julie Kurrle
What a beautiful time we had this past Saturday night in the home church of the Kurrles--the Obligado, PY Church of God. I have to confess that a part of me dreaded going, not really wanting to believe that this could be real, not wanting to see the dark cloud of grief hovering over our friend Norberto, not wanting to see pictures and videos of Julie and Timmy that I'd been able to avoid for the most part. But what a surprise God had in store for us!
How I got to the memorial service is a story all in itself, but one for another day. I arrived with dear friends Jamie and Marion Lee, British missionaries living in Ciudad del Este. We'd had the benefit of a 3-hour ride to process the horror and shock of this situation, and prepare mentally for trying to encourage Norberto and the community. But when we arrived, we found we were the ones encouraged and blessed.
We got there an hour early, despite Jamie's very cautious, slower than normal driving. (I think this has been a wake-up call to the entire ex-pat community, who already struggles with driving on these Paraguayan roads with few rules and even fewer people who observe them.) We found our seats in the church, then were greeted by a gracious gentleman who welcomed us to his home congregation. He seemed genuinely surprised to find that we were friends of Julie who had traveled just for the service, and thanked us several times for coming. It was only after we came out and asked him that he told us he was Norberto's father, the man who had just lost his precious daughter-in-law and his energetic grandson. It was clear that he was not here to receive pity or to draw attention to himself. This was a night to support Norberto and to give glory to God for the lives of two missionaries who devoted themselves to Him. As we met Norberto's mother, his brother, and his two sisters, they echoed this same humility and acknowledgement of the sovereignty of God.
Expecting that we'd not be able to speak to Norberto because he'd probably arrive just before the service started, we were shocked to see him come in early. He had work to do and was here to make this night perfect. We spoke with him for a moment and despite the questions in his eyes, the loss in his voice, the cut between his eyes and bruises around the right one, we were in awe over the peace exuding from this man who'd just witnessed horrors I can't begin to fathom and was walking through a valley I hope I never know. We were looking at a man whose home had been destroyed but his foundation was solid, built on the Rock that is the only true refuge.
Across the front of the altar, someone placed photos of Julie and Timmy playing, of Norberto and Julie in their wedding, of the whole family together, of little Timmy doing those things that boys do. To the side was a table with various things Norberto had chosen to display--Timmy's baseball and glove, his favorite pajamas, one of Julie's simple white dresses, the books she'd been reading most recently (she did love to read!), her well-used Bible. A photo show was projected on the screen with a mix of candid shots and videos, a vivid reminder of just how close to each other this family was.
Various people came forward to share how they'd been impacted. A man from the neighborhood whose son was Timmy's best friend, always hanging out at the Kurrle home. The scout troop in full uniforms with a flag they'd painted for Timmy in his favorite colors. A young lady who'd come last year to the training institute the Kurrle's started and been taken under Julie's wing. Timmy's teacher who said she'd felt the difference in the school in the time Timmy was a student there and knew it was because Norberto and Julie were covering it in prayer. Marion who shared of dying from a double brain hemorrhage, getting to heaven's gates, and asking to come back if she could make a difference in the salvation of her family (to which Julie replied, when Marion told her that story, "I don't think I'd have had the self-control to turn back! I'd have run through those gates!"--and I'm sure she did.)
I shared about how she'd helped me learn so much about Paraguay and being a missionary mom/wife here, and how I was nervous to meet her in person because I didn't think she could live up to being the person she seemed to be online, but she was all that and more. I told Norberto what she'd told me at a conference we attended recently, about how blessed she was to have a Godly husband who treated her like a princess and took good care of their family, adoring their kids and leading them all in the ways of the Lord. I told him what a blessing it was to be able to look back on his life with them without regrets, knowing he'd given his all for his family and devoted himself to them as God had directed him to do.
Mixed in with the testimonies were various songs, such as Julie's favorite (Amazing Grace), the one Timmy sang at his last birthday (a German praise song), and a few others with special meaning. These were sung by Norberto and his brother and sisters. His parents also shared how they were trusting in God, how they were thankful for the lives of Norberto and Anahi, and how much they loved Julie and Timmy.
And when everyone felt they'd said what needed to be said, Norberto went forward. I imagined he'd never be able to finish the speech he'd prepared, but he stood in the strength of the Lord and shared his heart. A real missionary, this man recognized the opportunity before him and spoke of God's plan for family. He encouraged those parents in attendance to love their children, to spend time with them. He told the story of his last evening with Timmy, how they'd built some homemade bomb gadget and Timmy wanted to light little explosions for the next two hours. Norberto was tired and they'd be traveling early, but he lit and re-lit and re-lit that thing until Timmy was worn out and ready for bed. In his pajamas, he wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck, thanked him for staying up late to play with him, and told him he loved him. Then, taking advantage of his daddy's softened heart, he asked if he could sleep in the bed with mommy and daddy that night. I'm sure Norberto will always be grateful for saying yes to that request.
Julie had gotten up early that morning to fix a ton of sandwiches for their road-trip, because, well, she was just that sort of Proverbs 31 woman. She took care of her household. As Norberto picked up the books to show us, one was about pregnancy. I took a deep breath as I remembered all the conversations and blog posts and emails and tears over trying to get pregnant despite what the doctors had deemed as almost impossible. The odds were certainly against it. But then Norberto shared that Julie was, in fact, six weeks pregnant. And so we learned that one more of Norberto's children than we'd thought, is in heaven with his or her mother. Heartbreaking, but I think of the joy my friend must have felt at realizing the miracle that had taken place in her body. The moment she must have shared with her husband when she was able to tell him of his little child she carried. And I thanked God that she was given that moment, that miracle. The answer to many prayers.
He told of how Julie, an organized, very intelligent, very business-minded woman, had big plans of climbing the corporate ladder and being a rich lady. Then God turned her life around, and she went after Him and His plan full-force. He ended by saying he'd need a little time to find out what God is saying to him in all this, what He has in mind for him, how he's to get through this. I was amazed that he was even able to think clearly enough to understand and reconcile this so soon, but as I said, this man is grounded in the Lord and surrounded by a natural and church family who are holding his hands as Aaron and Hur did for Moses in Exodus 17. And he's bolstered by the prayers of people all over the world.
As the service came to a close, we watched video of Timmy at about 3 years old, plunking the keys of a piano and singing over and over, "Yes, Jesus loves me, yes, Jesus loves me, yes, Jesus loves me..." and I thought, "Yes, Timmy, He sure does, and now you and Mommy can love Him back, in person."
...continue reading
How I got to the memorial service is a story all in itself, but one for another day. I arrived with dear friends Jamie and Marion Lee, British missionaries living in Ciudad del Este. We'd had the benefit of a 3-hour ride to process the horror and shock of this situation, and prepare mentally for trying to encourage Norberto and the community. But when we arrived, we found we were the ones encouraged and blessed.
We got there an hour early, despite Jamie's very cautious, slower than normal driving. (I think this has been a wake-up call to the entire ex-pat community, who already struggles with driving on these Paraguayan roads with few rules and even fewer people who observe them.) We found our seats in the church, then were greeted by a gracious gentleman who welcomed us to his home congregation. He seemed genuinely surprised to find that we were friends of Julie who had traveled just for the service, and thanked us several times for coming. It was only after we came out and asked him that he told us he was Norberto's father, the man who had just lost his precious daughter-in-law and his energetic grandson. It was clear that he was not here to receive pity or to draw attention to himself. This was a night to support Norberto and to give glory to God for the lives of two missionaries who devoted themselves to Him. As we met Norberto's mother, his brother, and his two sisters, they echoed this same humility and acknowledgement of the sovereignty of God.
Expecting that we'd not be able to speak to Norberto because he'd probably arrive just before the service started, we were shocked to see him come in early. He had work to do and was here to make this night perfect. We spoke with him for a moment and despite the questions in his eyes, the loss in his voice, the cut between his eyes and bruises around the right one, we were in awe over the peace exuding from this man who'd just witnessed horrors I can't begin to fathom and was walking through a valley I hope I never know. We were looking at a man whose home had been destroyed but his foundation was solid, built on the Rock that is the only true refuge.
Across the front of the altar, someone placed photos of Julie and Timmy playing, of Norberto and Julie in their wedding, of the whole family together, of little Timmy doing those things that boys do. To the side was a table with various things Norberto had chosen to display--Timmy's baseball and glove, his favorite pajamas, one of Julie's simple white dresses, the books she'd been reading most recently (she did love to read!), her well-used Bible. A photo show was projected on the screen with a mix of candid shots and videos, a vivid reminder of just how close to each other this family was.
Various people came forward to share how they'd been impacted. A man from the neighborhood whose son was Timmy's best friend, always hanging out at the Kurrle home. The scout troop in full uniforms with a flag they'd painted for Timmy in his favorite colors. A young lady who'd come last year to the training institute the Kurrle's started and been taken under Julie's wing. Timmy's teacher who said she'd felt the difference in the school in the time Timmy was a student there and knew it was because Norberto and Julie were covering it in prayer. Marion who shared of dying from a double brain hemorrhage, getting to heaven's gates, and asking to come back if she could make a difference in the salvation of her family (to which Julie replied, when Marion told her that story, "I don't think I'd have had the self-control to turn back! I'd have run through those gates!"--and I'm sure she did.)
I shared about how she'd helped me learn so much about Paraguay and being a missionary mom/wife here, and how I was nervous to meet her in person because I didn't think she could live up to being the person she seemed to be online, but she was all that and more. I told Norberto what she'd told me at a conference we attended recently, about how blessed she was to have a Godly husband who treated her like a princess and took good care of their family, adoring their kids and leading them all in the ways of the Lord. I told him what a blessing it was to be able to look back on his life with them without regrets, knowing he'd given his all for his family and devoted himself to them as God had directed him to do.
Mixed in with the testimonies were various songs, such as Julie's favorite (Amazing Grace), the one Timmy sang at his last birthday (a German praise song), and a few others with special meaning. These were sung by Norberto and his brother and sisters. His parents also shared how they were trusting in God, how they were thankful for the lives of Norberto and Anahi, and how much they loved Julie and Timmy.
And when everyone felt they'd said what needed to be said, Norberto went forward. I imagined he'd never be able to finish the speech he'd prepared, but he stood in the strength of the Lord and shared his heart. A real missionary, this man recognized the opportunity before him and spoke of God's plan for family. He encouraged those parents in attendance to love their children, to spend time with them. He told the story of his last evening with Timmy, how they'd built some homemade bomb gadget and Timmy wanted to light little explosions for the next two hours. Norberto was tired and they'd be traveling early, but he lit and re-lit and re-lit that thing until Timmy was worn out and ready for bed. In his pajamas, he wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck, thanked him for staying up late to play with him, and told him he loved him. Then, taking advantage of his daddy's softened heart, he asked if he could sleep in the bed with mommy and daddy that night. I'm sure Norberto will always be grateful for saying yes to that request.
Julie had gotten up early that morning to fix a ton of sandwiches for their road-trip, because, well, she was just that sort of Proverbs 31 woman. She took care of her household. As Norberto picked up the books to show us, one was about pregnancy. I took a deep breath as I remembered all the conversations and blog posts and emails and tears over trying to get pregnant despite what the doctors had deemed as almost impossible. The odds were certainly against it. But then Norberto shared that Julie was, in fact, six weeks pregnant. And so we learned that one more of Norberto's children than we'd thought, is in heaven with his or her mother. Heartbreaking, but I think of the joy my friend must have felt at realizing the miracle that had taken place in her body. The moment she must have shared with her husband when she was able to tell him of his little child she carried. And I thanked God that she was given that moment, that miracle. The answer to many prayers.
He told of how Julie, an organized, very intelligent, very business-minded woman, had big plans of climbing the corporate ladder and being a rich lady. Then God turned her life around, and she went after Him and His plan full-force. He ended by saying he'd need a little time to find out what God is saying to him in all this, what He has in mind for him, how he's to get through this. I was amazed that he was even able to think clearly enough to understand and reconcile this so soon, but as I said, this man is grounded in the Lord and surrounded by a natural and church family who are holding his hands as Aaron and Hur did for Moses in Exodus 17. And he's bolstered by the prayers of people all over the world.
As the service came to a close, we watched video of Timmy at about 3 years old, plunking the keys of a piano and singing over and over, "Yes, Jesus loves me, yes, Jesus loves me, yes, Jesus loves me..." and I thought, "Yes, Timmy, He sure does, and now you and Mommy can love Him back, in person."
April 18, 2012
Tribute to a Fallen Hero
 |
| Visiting in 2010. I love the sunlight on Julie's face. :) |
Julie was a “been there, done that” sort of woman who,
although a few years younger than me, was able to teach me the way of the
missionary wife and mother from her years of experience in the field. She’s the hero who withstood a
break-in robbery while she and her son were alone in the house early one
morning. Here's an excerpt of her post:
He started tying up my feet and my hands. While he was tying me I felt the need to pray for this man.
I prayed out loud in Spanish:
“Lord, please help this man. Give him a good job so he doesn’t rob anymore. Bless his wife and kids and keep them in health. Prosper him and help him to change his ways. Touch him and speak to him Lord in your name I pray. Amen”
He paused as I prayed and then continued to gag me with plastic and tied cloth over my eyes. The whole time I continued to pray silently for protection over Timmy, who was only a few feet from me and who did not wake up the entire time.
She loved her husband and son in an uncommonly deep
way. They wanted to have more children,
but they weren't able to conceive after the birth of their son
Timmy. As they began to research, God
worked on their heart and she fell in love with the idea of adoption. They became advocates for opening hearts and
homes for children in need of a family, and just recently adopted Anahi, a
precious little girl who was almost a year old when she came to them. To say that Julie was enamored with this little princess would be a huge understatement. The family was just thrilled. Not surprisingly, Julie was able to witness to the judge and share the Lord with her. She always found ways to do that.
 |
| Julie, Amy McKissick, and me, at the Women of the Harvest retreat in October, 2011. We were so excited to find out we were in the same small group and could spend the weekend catching up and cuttin' up! |
We just spent a few days with them in January, where we were
able to see their recently completed home.
Julie’s mom was there for a visit of about a month, and our friend Ruth
was visiting from the U.S. She’d gotten
to know Julie from her blog, too. Timmy,
Anahi, and their dad Norberto took us on a hike to the pond next door, and we
enjoyed watching Timmy play fetch with their lumbering, wet dog. He was “all boy,” getting muddy and exploring
the trees and explaining every little thing to us.
We enjoyed the time with them, as always, and I marveled at
how Julie managed to find silver lining in everything, and how she never ended
a chat on a negative topic. She found
some way to point out that God is ultimately in control and He’s capable and
faithful. We remarked again at what a
lovely family they were, with so much obvious love and acceptance in their
home.
This morning, they got an early start on a trip to the
capital to work on paperwork for their upcoming visit to the U.S. An hour or so later, an accident on the road
instantly provided passage for Julie to be with her beloved Savior. A short time later, Timmy joined her,
according to news reports, in the arms of his daddy when he passed away. Norberto and little Anahi (one and a half
years old now) were hospitalized.
Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"
John 11:25-26
April 16, 2012
Who Else Speaks English?
Today we visited a new church. Let me change that. We visited a very old church, for the first time. Our friend was preaching this morning at St. Andrews Anglican Church in Asuncion, so we ventured out and spent the day in the capital. St. Andrew's chapel has been around 100 years now, and, according to its facebook page, the congregation began 50 years before the chapel was built. It's an absolutely beautiful little place of worship, and we found the people to be really special.
We knew this would be a different sort of service than what we grew up around, as the Anglican Church is considered "high church", much more formal and--hmm, shall we say quiet?--than what I know. I wondered if I'd be okay in my normal casual attire, and one of our Paraguayan friends recommended I wear an evening gown. Needless to say, my dress pants were just fine. :)
So what makes this church so special, other than its history? Well, this is one of the few places English-speakers gather weekly to worship together in our own language. Don't go crazy on me, but the United States is not the only place where one speaks English. We walked into a congregation of folks from New Zealand, England, Ireland, Canada, and various other places I didn't get the chance to figure out. And the service was a lovely blend (see, I've been around those Brits!) of formal readings and congregational responses, with informal speaking and prayer and the like. We really, really enjoyed being able to understand every word--practically every word... that guy with the heavy French accent left me hanging on a few phrases. And we enjoyed knowing that people of all denominations were gathering together and blending their styles to bring glory to the One who watches over us in a foreign land. We were refreshed in the service and further blessed to have lunch with a few other missionary families.
Did I mention that Asuncion is basically a ghost town on Sunday morning, so we arrived an hour earlier than we planned to? We were expecting much more traffic, and the weather reports were calling for rain, so we gave ourselves plenty of time. The sun stayed out all day, by the way. Yeah, and McDonald's was one block away from the church. I can't tell you how many times we've said, "What I wouldn't give for a fast-food drive-thru breakfast right now!" so we took advantage of our extra hour and hurried over to McD's. What were they serving? CHIPA!!!
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| photo from Saint Andrew's AC facebook page |
So what makes this church so special, other than its history? Well, this is one of the few places English-speakers gather weekly to worship together in our own language. Don't go crazy on me, but the United States is not the only place where one speaks English. We walked into a congregation of folks from New Zealand, England, Ireland, Canada, and various other places I didn't get the chance to figure out. And the service was a lovely blend (see, I've been around those Brits!) of formal readings and congregational responses, with informal speaking and prayer and the like. We really, really enjoyed being able to understand every word--practically every word... that guy with the heavy French accent left me hanging on a few phrases. And we enjoyed knowing that people of all denominations were gathering together and blending their styles to bring glory to the One who watches over us in a foreign land. We were refreshed in the service and further blessed to have lunch with a few other missionary families.
Did I mention that Asuncion is basically a ghost town on Sunday morning, so we arrived an hour earlier than we planned to? We were expecting much more traffic, and the weather reports were calling for rain, so we gave ourselves plenty of time. The sun stayed out all day, by the way. Yeah, and McDonald's was one block away from the church. I can't tell you how many times we've said, "What I wouldn't give for a fast-food drive-thru breakfast right now!" so we took advantage of our extra hour and hurried over to McD's. What were they serving? CHIPA!!!
April 10, 2012
Strange Evangelism Tools
Today, a most prestigious title was awarded to Ken. I won't spoil it for you by spilling the details, but I'll give you the link so you can scoot over to Stephen Haggerty's page and read all about it, including an interview and some photos.
Okay, I'll give you the hint that Ken's facial hair gets discussed in this interview. On the mission field, one is always looking for conversation starters and something to "break the ice" with folks you don't yet know. Ken's goatee has been just that. It's like a teen boy magnet, especially in a culture where facial hair isn't a natural feature. These kids want to know what he does to make his beard grow. Even the grown men tend to blame it on his propensity to pour hot sauce on whatever he's eating. So any time I start to complain about it or ask how long he intends to have the massive growth, he reminds me that it's a ministry tool. I guess I've heard of stranger things.
Click over there to see what all the hoopla's about, and leave a comment. :) And drop one here if God uses something uncommon about you to open doors of communication. I'd love to hear about it!
...continue reading
Okay, I'll give you the hint that Ken's facial hair gets discussed in this interview. On the mission field, one is always looking for conversation starters and something to "break the ice" with folks you don't yet know. Ken's goatee has been just that. It's like a teen boy magnet, especially in a culture where facial hair isn't a natural feature. These kids want to know what he does to make his beard grow. Even the grown men tend to blame it on his propensity to pour hot sauce on whatever he's eating. So any time I start to complain about it or ask how long he intends to have the massive growth, he reminds me that it's a ministry tool. I guess I've heard of stranger things.
Click over there to see what all the hoopla's about, and leave a comment. :) And drop one here if God uses something uncommon about you to open doors of communication. I'd love to hear about it!
April 6, 2012
Good Friday Traditions
Yep, Semana Santa is in full swing here. Well, that makes it sound like something's really happening, but what's happening is a lot of nothing, on purpose. WHAT?! You see, today is Good Friday, and that means the whole country has shut down in order to contemplate the crucifixion. This day is treated with much respect.
A few rules I've learned in the 4 Easter seasons we've enjoyed in Paraguay:
Normally on the Thursday before Viernes Santa (Good Friday), the asados linger on into the night and the alcohol flows freely. However, a cold, windy storm blew in midday and knocked out electricity till midnight, so it was pretty quiet in Party World. We usually hear, late into the night, the bass of the sound system and the howling of the dancers, but got a reprieve. There was a beautiful full moon that lit up the yard, so we sat outside and visited with neighbors who dropped by.
Today, the bored teens of the barrio (these traditions seem old fashioned to them) came by to hang out. One came with a bag of chipa from her mom, so we let her in right away. :) I think they were banking on us not abiding by the "no tv" rule. We complied. All week long, movies about Biblical characters and historical saints are on the television. Today, I noticed that David, Moses, Noah, Jesus, Fatima, and Father Pio were on schedule. That, and Love Comes Softly. I'm not sure how that made it in the mix. The young folks wanted to watch something old, so I pulled out The Little Rascals, which was a big hit. Unfortunately, these oldies weren't in Spanish, so I translated 4 or 5 episodes on the fly before I was exhausted. I never realized how much of that humor was word play, which, of course, doesn't translate. Thankfully, we don't live too close to their parents, who would probably have had a fit at the howling they did as they laughed at Alfalfa and Spanky.
How did you spend Good Friday?
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A few rules I've learned in the 4 Easter seasons we've enjoyed in Paraguay:
- Cook in advance, including the traditional asado (grilling out) Thursday night and chipa throughout the week. This will sustain you on Friday, when you must not cook.
- Don't try to take a bus on Thursday because everyone is going to the home of their relatives who live in rural areas--"the campo." Buses are crowded on a good day here, but there's no way to describe the scene on the day before Good Friday. Incidentally, there aren't buses today, and I've not even heard a motorcycle pass by.
- Wear mourning clothes. I learned the hard way that there are certain colors that are appropriate for wakes, funerals, vigils, and other such things involving the dead. Of course, dark colors such as brown and black are fine, and white and gray because they are neutral. However, blue, green, pink, purple, yellow--considered "party colors"--are totally inappropriate.
- You must not raise your voice on Good Friday. No yelling at the kids or calling the cows home. Many choose not to listen to the radio or watch tv, but if you do these things, they must be at a volume level that only you can hear.
- No work today. Not only does this apply to the place of employment, but don't work around your house, either. Yesterday, the women in my barrio were cleaning like mad because there'll be no mopping, dish-washing, or sweeping today. Oops. We broke this one.
- The day is to be spent in quiet meditation and reflection. Unfortunately, most people are sleeping off last night's party. But for those who choose to actually reflect on the meaning of this day, they will have the peaceful tranquility to do so.
Normally on the Thursday before Viernes Santa (Good Friday), the asados linger on into the night and the alcohol flows freely. However, a cold, windy storm blew in midday and knocked out electricity till midnight, so it was pretty quiet in Party World. We usually hear, late into the night, the bass of the sound system and the howling of the dancers, but got a reprieve. There was a beautiful full moon that lit up the yard, so we sat outside and visited with neighbors who dropped by.
Today, the bored teens of the barrio (these traditions seem old fashioned to them) came by to hang out. One came with a bag of chipa from her mom, so we let her in right away. :) I think they were banking on us not abiding by the "no tv" rule. We complied. All week long, movies about Biblical characters and historical saints are on the television. Today, I noticed that David, Moses, Noah, Jesus, Fatima, and Father Pio were on schedule. That, and Love Comes Softly. I'm not sure how that made it in the mix. The young folks wanted to watch something old, so I pulled out The Little Rascals, which was a big hit. Unfortunately, these oldies weren't in Spanish, so I translated 4 or 5 episodes on the fly before I was exhausted. I never realized how much of that humor was word play, which, of course, doesn't translate. Thankfully, we don't live too close to their parents, who would probably have had a fit at the howling they did as they laughed at Alfalfa and Spanky.
How did you spend Good Friday?
April 2, 2012
Win Some Coffee Goods, Then Move Here
I've got a couple of cool links to share with you today. First of all, my hubby is celebrating his one-year anniversary as a blogger. He started a personal blog last year just after his open-heart surgery, took a bit of a pause when I broke my femur, and then started back in full force. WARNING: His blog is not all butterflies and hammocks and puppies. It's an honest journal of struggles and victories, with a smattering of "what life is like here" thrown in for good measure. If you know my man, you know he's a bit of a clown, and his humor tends toward the sarcastic/satirical/ironic side. He often takes a step back, looks at who we are, and then makes a little fun. Call it therapy. If you're feeling brave enough to venture into his world, hop over there (Get it? HOP! It's almost Easter... see my humor coming out, too?) and get in the race for the awesome giveaway. Tell him his corny wife sent you. ;)
Moving along.......
Every now and then, I get visits from folks who have caught on to how wonderful it is to live in paradise. They bop around my site a bit to get ideas about what it's like. Well, I try to give the straight scoop, but I'm not sure everyone who moves here has to go through the ringer like we have. At least, I hope not. So where can you find good information about moving to South America? Check out this blog I've found, who happens to be featuring my chipa story this week. I'm sure you'll find lots of helpful stuff there. And we bloggers love to get comments, so leave her some love and, again, tell her I sent you. :)
I've been online a little more than I care to lately, as we've finished out the school year and are ready to move on to the next one. Correction: CAMILLE is ready to move on to the next one. My elder daughter wants to graduate ASAP, so going into the 10th grade is going to happen without the fanfare of a "summer" break, which would technically be taking place in the autumn of Paraguay, the spring of the U.S., so maybe it wouldn't count anyway. Why does that put me online? Well, we had planned to furlough this year, so I only brought enough homeschooling material to get us to this year. We changed to Switched-on-Schoolhouse (SOOOO much easier for me!) and I wanted to be sure it worked for us before buying any more. And here we are in 2012, we're not going on furlough, and the girls finished early and want to start now. What's a mom to do? Well, considering that no one's selling used curriculum right now because most people still have a couple months left, she digs around and finds free downloadable classes online. Camille is going to take a psychology elective and her Bible course from a couple of colleges, and I found a couple of free science and math textbooks online, too. Gonna figure out the rest. It'll be more work, but this is what happens when the mom doesn't plan well. Ugh. I'm giving homeschoolers everywhere a bad name.
So, have you found anything good in your surfing lately?
...continue reading
Moving along.......
Every now and then, I get visits from folks who have caught on to how wonderful it is to live in paradise. They bop around my site a bit to get ideas about what it's like. Well, I try to give the straight scoop, but I'm not sure everyone who moves here has to go through the ringer like we have. At least, I hope not. So where can you find good information about moving to South America? Check out this blog I've found, who happens to be featuring my chipa story this week. I'm sure you'll find lots of helpful stuff there. And we bloggers love to get comments, so leave her some love and, again, tell her I sent you. :)
I've been online a little more than I care to lately, as we've finished out the school year and are ready to move on to the next one. Correction: CAMILLE is ready to move on to the next one. My elder daughter wants to graduate ASAP, so going into the 10th grade is going to happen without the fanfare of a "summer" break, which would technically be taking place in the autumn of Paraguay, the spring of the U.S., so maybe it wouldn't count anyway. Why does that put me online? Well, we had planned to furlough this year, so I only brought enough homeschooling material to get us to this year. We changed to Switched-on-Schoolhouse (SOOOO much easier for me!) and I wanted to be sure it worked for us before buying any more. And here we are in 2012, we're not going on furlough, and the girls finished early and want to start now. What's a mom to do? Well, considering that no one's selling used curriculum right now because most people still have a couple months left, she digs around and finds free downloadable classes online. Camille is going to take a psychology elective and her Bible course from a couple of colleges, and I found a couple of free science and math textbooks online, too. Gonna figure out the rest. It'll be more work, but this is what happens when the mom doesn't plan well. Ugh. I'm giving homeschoolers everywhere a bad name.
So, have you found anything good in your surfing lately?
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