From the Mouths of Babes

When the twins were little, Gramma would often take them to the river to cool off—and to give me, the mom, some time to speed clean the house!

One such day as they walked through the village on their way to the river a week-long drunken party was taking place. Obviously people were not on their best behavior.

"Gramma, why are they doing bad things?" one of the twins asked.

"When people get drunk they do bad things," Gramma explained in a nutshell.

Thoughtful for a moment, the twin then responded, "Sometimes I'm drunk."

The Village Laundromat

People love before and after shots. I could show you a before and after shot of my laundry closet to the right—and yes, it was a definite improvement! Greater yet is the improvement of my present laundry facilities compared to the laundry facilities in our early years in Venezuela. Going to the village laundromat meant scrubbing clothes on a rock or overturned dugout canoe in the river.

Which is better? My automatic washer and dryer are definitely better! I love not having to try to wring out clothes well enough that they'll dry before they sour. I love being able to do something else while the washer and dryer do all the work!

With yesterday's blog being about being thankful, I must say I am really thankful for my modern laundry facilities!

Thankfulness in a Time of Economic Depression

We're in a time of economic depression. People are facing uncertainties. People wonder what the future holds. People are suddenly more cautious in their spending, in their planning, in how they view their jobs. Life has changed—but God has not!

So what do we focus on in times like this? On the hardships? On the uncertainties? On the lack of funds? On the loss of a job—or the possible loss of a job?

I think not. In fact, I think it best to focus on all the things, little and big, that we have to be thankful for! In Hebrews 13:5 we're instructed to be content. So often contentment and thankfulness go hand in hand. And so, here goes... .


I am thankful for...

...my healthy family.

...the sun shining in my eyes on the way to work—a rare occurrence here in central New York!

...children that respect and obey us—and are just fun to be with!

...parents that raised me in a loving Christian home.

...Mocha, my Jack Russell Terrier that gives me my cuddle times and makes me feel special!

...food on the table!

...a husband that is a godly man who looks after me, encourages me, makes me smile and is my best friend.

...our home—a refuge at the end of a long day.

...my job with all it's variety. Working the 11pm-7am shift for a year and a half at a factory REALLY makes me appreciate my present job!

...older sons that will actually sit and talk with me! It's fun having friendships with adult children!

...a daughter(-in-law) that understands how I think—in contrast to my four sons at times!

...a sister that, though miles away, is always close to my heart.

...electricity and hot running water. (Yeah, we lived long enough in a tribal situation where that really did not exist!)

...the ice-maker in my freezer. (I love the sound of the ice falling, already formed, into the ice tray.)

...friends. (How does one live without them?!)

...my Heavenly Father who loves me despite my failures, encourages me, strengthens me, and makes all the difference in my life.

What do YOU have to be thankful for?

Do You Live in the City or in the Jungle?

Our children are a source of joy to us. Sometimes they bring a smile to our face at the unexpected response that slips from their lips. One such unexpected response occurred when our twins were being taught Kindergarten by our co-worker.

Realizing that since the twins lived in a remote jungle village, that they had little concept of what a city was, Jane attempted to explain. Feeling confident they were understanding, she went on to ask, "So where do you live? In the city or in the jungle?"

Without missing a beat, the twins responded in unison, "In the city!"

Jane looked at them a bit bewildered. The village around them was definitely not a city. There were no street lights. There were no streets! There were no hospitals or stores. On the contrary, there was a grass airstrip that allowed access to the village of palm-roofed huts in the middle of the jungle.

"But don't you live in the jungle?" she questioned them.

"No," the twins insisted. "The jungle is out there!"

The jungle was out there where their mother had warned them they were never to wander. The jungle was out there where cougars, jaguars, snakes and other dangerous creatures lived. The jungle was beyond the border of the village, and therefore, their young minds reasoned, the village must be a city!

What unexpected responses from your kids do you have to share with me?!

Being Still in the Storm

"Be still and know that I am God." (Ps. 46:10)

I have a framed copy of this verse in my home office. In the midst of a hectic life when at times more things seem to vie for my time, energy and effort than seems realistic, there's a peace in this verse. There's the knowledge that all the activity and demands on my life don't have to consume me. It's okay to set them aside, to just be STILL and to know, not just in an intellectual manner, but in the depths of my soul, that HE is GOD.

Knowing God makes all the difference. Admittedly, the demands of life don't go away. Bills still need to be paid, taxes still need to be filed, the house still needs to be cleaned, the paperwork piles still need to be gone through—but knowing God puts all the demands, all the activity, into a different perspective. Suddenly I can be at rest in the midst of a whirlwind. I can be still and know that He is God.

Missing Toddlers and Big Cats

I always felt the village was generally a safe place to raise our children—as long as they stayed in the village. There was that one day when our twins were toddlers that I feared the worst.

The twins were playing happily in the puddles near the front of the house. I could hear their chatter as I headed for the bathroom. I was only gone for a few minutes....

When I came out I realized the chatter was gone. I glanced out the windows and there were no twins in sight. I wasn't panicking—at least not yet. I headed for the door to go see if they had disappeared to Gramma and Grampa's place a few doors down—but Gramma was walking in our front door!

"The twins aren't at your house?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

Don't panic! I told myself as I dashed out the door in the direction of the river. It was a ten minute walk to the port, but I had to be sure they weren't there. Others were searching close to the house.

Reaching the port in record time I found women washing their laundry—but no twins. No one had seen nor heard them.

I was on my way back to the house when a young Maquiritare girl met me with news that the twins had been found. They were found walking along a jungle trail between the slash and burn gardens holding hands, maybe to give them courage?

The jungle wasn't in the same category in my mind as the village. The jungle was not on my safe list. It was a place where cougars could roam. It was a place where snakes could strike. It was a place I did not want my toddler twins to be.

Reaching the house to find the twins safe motherly fear surfaced in these words, "Don't you know a "big kitty" (their name for a cougar) could have ate you!"

Maybe not the best in wording, but they never wandered off again!

Anaconda

One of the greatest fears of the river would be encountering an anaconda. Thankfully I never encountered one—but my husband and boys did! They were returning home from a relatively unsuccessful hunting trip when they came upon this anaconda swimming in the river. Not that they would have looked for one, but when the river is the laundromat, the local water hole and the bathing area for the various villages along the river, well, anacondas are just not welcomed! My husband tried to convince me that was the last one in the river and I had no worries. Hmmm... . Wouldn't you have liked to believe him?

The Great Chicken-Slayer

Our son was only six at the time, so when he came to his father and asked if he could go kill a chicken, Matt, being a bit distracted and presuming this was all in play said, "Sure."

Off our son went in search of chicken to kill... .

A short while later a very pleased "Chicken-Slayer" arrived with his prey. Thankfully it was only a dead peep in his hands and not a full grown chicken! Of course, the dead peep was still more than Matt had bargained for. It presented the challenge of explaining cross-culturally with his still limited language ability the "why" behind the fact that our son had just killed someone's peep! Thankfully, they saw the humor in the situation!

Blooming Spiritually

There are flowers in my office. They came with the job. They were once beautiful. And now? They cycle between blooming and beautifully green—and withering with brown leaves falling to the carpet, with cracked dirt in the pots resembling a parched desert land. Okay, I admit it, the withering part of the cycle is of longer duration than the blooming and beautifully green!

You've got it. I don't have a green thumb. I think plants are a beautiful part of creation but I just don't seem to notice as they begin to wither away.

The amazing part is, that with a little tender loving care, they still bring forth new life when I get around to noticing them and giving them attention. Amidst the look of brown, dying leaves, suddenly new green leaves appear. Flowers bloom where death once seemed certain.

Thankfully God isn't like that with us. He doesn't forget to "water" us. He doesn't get caught up with projects and neglect us. But isn't that how we sometimes are in our spiritual lives? We start to feel dry and parched and realize we've been neglecting to feed ourselves spiritually. Thankfully, just as flowers can bloom again when they seem on the verge of death, so God can bring us out of our spiritually dry desert and infuse new life within us. He has promised to complete the good work HE has begun in our lives. Will we comply?

We Applaud Their Committment

Yearly soccer tournaments take place amongst the tribal communities of Venezuela. Living in the midst of the Amazon jungle means each village must clear and then maintain an area large enough for a soccer field from the dense jungle—often with only machetes and axes. Soccer is important to them, probably ranking in importance close to how we rank the Olympics. The village where we last ministered nearly emptied of people heading off to these games. We can feel their excitement. We’ve been there. It’s a big deal.

We applaud their commitment.

Thankfully, they are committed to more than just that. They are committed to God. We were more than thrilled and blessed in our hearts to hear the reason behind the nearly emptying of the village was not merely for the pull of the games, but for the love of God. The church saw this gathering of many tribal groups from many villages as an opportunity for an evangelistic outreach.

The heavens, along with us, applaud their commitment.

Please pray for the Maquiritare tribal church, that they would continue to walk in the truths of God’s Word, that they would continue to follow the Lord, and that they would continue the missionary endeavor, not only amongst their own people, but amongst the other tribal groups with whom they brush shoulders.

Thank you for praying.

Which Outhouse Would YOU Choose?

My proper British mother was visiting us in the Maquiritare village of Toki. After the long flight she needed to use the facilities. Of course, indoor plumbing was only a dream where we lived at the time. I gave her three options for outhouses:
1) A brand new one—that didn't have walls yet.
2) A very old one that was, well, way too full!
3) And the best option was the nice outhouse shown above, fully equipped with a window in the door so you could see if it was in use before barging in!

She opted for the third outhouse with me as the sentry at the door! Which one would you choose?

An Outhouse With a View

During our early days in the remote jungle village of Parupa, Venezuela, we were roughing it. We called it 'rustic living' to make it sound better, maybe even a bit romantic.

Our 'rustic' outhouse was made of palm leaves and poles. The picture above shows its state after the makeshift door fell off. We didn't have hinges and since there was no general store to go buy some, we had an outhouse without a door for a while.

Thankfully it was near the edge of the village. Still, many times I thought of writing a book of "What I saw through the outhouse door... ." Sure, I never did. For that matter, I never will! You really don't want to know! But those thoughts were the sense of humor the Lord gave me to be able to make light of our 'rustic' living conditions.

Do We Care?

The mother was crying when we found her with her baby boy. His labored breath was frightening. His pulse was too weak to find without the help of a stethoscope. It was there, but oh, so slow.

I held the child wondering if each breath would be his last. I wondered how I would feel if he were my own. We tried to call for the plane—but no one heard us. Finally a national medic heard our call for help and responded. He could offer medical guidance, but he also lived in a remote village and couldn't get in contact with a plane. We felt the isolation of living several hours by small plane from civilization. We prayed. We did all the medic instructed us to do—and yet the child still died. He just didn't have the strength to keep on fighting.

Our hearts ached for the mother and grandmother as we told them. They began to wail. The husband and father of the child wasn't even there with his wife to comfort her. He'd already made a canoe while the child was yet an infant, knowing this would cause the baby to die. The mother knew it was the father's fault that the baby had died. She blamed him.

That's crazy you say. Babies don't die because their father made a canoe. Maybe not, but they believed this. How do you comfort them? Is there any comfort? How would you feel if your husband knowingly did something that you believed resulted in the death of your child? How would you feel if the very act of touching your dead child's body for that one last time made you "unclean" for months to come?

The spiritual darkness they lived in was so obvious. You couldn't miss it. Our hearts bled for them. You couldn't help but care.

We're Stateside now, and still we find ourselves surrounded by spiritual darkness. It's so obvious. You can't miss it. But do people care?

The Love of My Life

On this special day when we remember our loved ones with special gifts and words of affection, I'd like to introduce you to my wonderful husband and the love of my life, Matt. We will be celebrating our 25th Wedding Anniversary the end of this year! Obviously this picture was taken a few years back!

Laughter Lightens our Lives

I'm the full-time secretary here at the church. Many calls come in each day. Some calls generate work, some generate sympathy and tears—and some generate laughter.

Yesterday, being the day before Valentine's Day, the wife of one of the men on staff called. Putting her on hold, I buzzed through to the husband's office.

"It's your wife wanting to speak with you," I told him.

"Which one?" came the quick response—to which I could not resist replying, "Which wife—or which line?"

Laughter ensued.

May we all remember those special ones in our lives on this special day.

We Call It Making Memories...

How does one turn a thirteen hour road trip into an sixteen hour road trip?

Easy, use a GPS that doesn't tell you to "Hey, Idiot! Get off at the next exit and turn around!" but re-routes you three hours out of your way. Oh right, add to the mix that your son is following you with the good Garmin GPS that IS telling him at every exit to "get off at this exit and turn around", but who keeps telling his new bride that "Mom knows where she's going," and therefore neglects to mention the fact to Mom.

Okay, Mom usually does know where she's going, but that's with the old-fashioned method of maps combined with the not-so-old Mapquest. But on this day, Mom did not know where she was. She kept scanning the map she'd pulled out after a ways into the trip to try to figure out where they really were! The GPS kept saying they were somewhere "exact" but it where was that "exact" location on the map???!!!

By the time Mom, who was highly suspicious that things weren't as on-track as the GPS was telling her, figured out where they were, all she could do was groan...and groan...and groan. How, when they should have been leaving Chicago in the dust behind them, could they still be in Wisconsin???!!!

That's how our trip the end of June of last year from Waukesha, Wisconsin to our home in New York turned from a thirteen hour to a sixteen hour trip! But it was all about making memories, right? At least we smile and tell ourselves that. The purpose of the trip (in the gas-guzzling, non-functioning A.C. of a van) was to pull a U-haul of Joe & Jen's belongings back to New York for them. You figured it out. They were following us because they were moving to New York.

And yes, we did make some unique, but strangely good, memories.How do you turn a thirteen hour road trip into a sixteen hour road trip? (Really, this is not a trick question!)

Precious Flour

Errors in judgment happen. One such error was made on the food order sent in for the Californian team. "Town" figured I had over-ordered and cut back on some of the supplies. Unfortunately, they were wrong. What this meant was that by the time the team left we were practically out of food and not due to have our next order arrive for yet a little while. Remember, we were two and a half hours from town. There was no corner store.

I made "interesting" meals. There was no more spaghetti or sauce. There were canned beans with nothing to accompany them. There was a bit of tuna left. We made tuna sandwiches. We had bread without tuna. At least that filled our stomachs! And then the flour ran out... . And then I was using the last of our precious stash of pancake mix... . God, we're here about YOUR business. Please supply our need!

The plane happened to fly in that day. An unexpected flight. The pilot was on his way to another village, but knowing we were alone, made a stop by our base. He happened to have a case of flour with him. He happened to mention that if we needed it, he could leave it with us.

Yes, yes and yes! We let him know we could use the flour. We let him know he was an answer to prayer. And we marveled at the providence of God. With God, nothing just happens. With God there are no coincidences.

Alone at Last

The day had come. The California team was flying out. I was finally going to have my family to myself. After weeks of little to no private time with my family, we were going to be alone. That's a good thing, right? I wasn't so sure.

As the small Cessna plane became a speck in the distant sky, a lump formed in my throat. I felt like my last link to the civilized world was being cut. The reality set in that as a family we were alone in a remote tribal village. We were alone with people we had yet to get to know and understand. We were alone and very limited in our ability to communicate.

It was at once terrifying, yet liberating. There was the acceptance of the fact that I couldn't do this. And with that, the knowledge that God could.

A Tribute to a Californian Team

They joined us in our most primitive days...yet they never complained.

Men and ladies alike slept in hammocks in jungle huts where bats were a common problem...yet they never complained.

They knew we served Kool-Aid instead of water to mask how dirty the water was because the impossible had happened and our water filter had been 'bumped' from the flight...and yet they never complained.

Did I mention that the Kool-Aid wasn't even cold, but lukewarm since we had no means of refrigeration?—And yet they never complained.

They ate tuna sandwiches, tuna casserole, meatless spaghetti and pancakes—then tuna sandwiches, tuna casserole, meatless spaghetti and pancakes all over again because without a refrigerator our menu was pretty limited...and yet they never complained.

They worked long days in the hot tropical sun improving our airstrip (and remember they couldn't come up to the house at the end of the day to sit under a fan with a cold glass of water!)...and yet they never complained.

Indoor plumbing didn't exist so they bathed in the river...and yet they never complained.

The lack of indoor plumbing also meant they used our rather rustic outhouse made of palm leaves with the 'occasional' spider hanging from the ceiling...and yet they never complained.

How often do we complain? How often do we forget that God commands us to be content?

Philippians 4:11 tells us:

"Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."

The Californian team lived the reality of this verse. Shouldn't we?

Time Travel

Moving to Parupa to begin a missionary outreach could be compared to taking a time-travel trip back to a more primitive era. Stepping off the small Cessna plane (my time-travel machine!) with our two sons ages four and six and being four months pregnant with our twins, I joined my husband in this remote, primitive village.

Two and a half hours before I had been in town, a place with stores, restaurants, churches, schools, hospitals—and even roads that connected them! The homes were clean and comfortable. People reached into their refrigerators for cold glasses of water. They turned on fans or air-conditioning to cool their homes when the tropical heat became unbearable. They turned on a facet and were blessed with water—and all this without realizing how blessed they were!

I'd been there. Done that. But all that changed when I stepped down from my "time-travel machine." There were no roads. Instead there was a rough dirt airstrip, a river, and jungle huts lined up in the village. There was a definite rustic beauty to the scene before me. The skyline was not interrupted by electrical or telephone poles as none of that existed. Running water? Oh, that was the river. The river was where you bathed, where you washed your laundry and where you cooled off.

I was suddenly far removed from the twentieth century life to which I was accustomed. There were no clean homes. The "three-second rule" definitely did not apply here where food fell to a dirt floor. There was no reaching into the refrigerator for a cold glass of water. For that matter, there was no reaching for the facet for a lukewarm glass of water! Water was brought up bucket by bucket from the river. Water was precious. Turning on the fan meant you fanned yourself with a hand held fan made of palm leaves. Air-conditioning was a dream.

This was our new life. This was the beginning of an adventure the Lord had invited us to take with Him. He never promised it would be easy, but He did promise in Hebrews 13:5 that He would NEVER leave us, nor forsake us. That was enough for us then, and it is enough for us now. What a promise! What a hope! What a God we serve!

Things That Crawl in the Night

Living in a glorified jungle hut with a palm roof and dirt floors you can expect to find things crawling in the night that would be unexpected in a comfortable suburban home. Cockroaches are one such thing that crawls in the night.

For that reason, amongst others, I always kept a heavy duty flashlight by my bed. The light would banish them, sending the cockroaches scurrying to hidden crevices in the wall. It was always accessible—except for this one night.

We were lying in bed chatting quietly when Matt suddenly groaned, "There's a cockroach in the bed. Where's the light?"

Reaching for the ever present flashlight, it was my turn to groan. I had forgotten it on the kitchen counter.

"I'll go get it," I said as I pulled my housecoat around me and headed for the kitchen. I flipped on the dim 12-volt bulb that served as a bedroom light on the way out to give a least a semblance of light along the way.

As I entered the kitchen in the semi-darkness, I started to step down on something. As soon as I felt the tentacle-like legs reaching around the bottom of my foot I thought cockroach! The big ones! That yucky, clingy feel! The grossness of them!

My foot barely touched the floor before I was doing a silent dance, my foot shaking in strange gyrations in an attempt to discard the offending critter. It flew off—much to my relief. Grossness was averted.

Reaching for the flashlight I flipped it on to find the cockroach and dispose of it. The light revealed quite a different picture than I had anticipated. There on the floor between me and the hallway to the bedroom was a black scorpion. Suddenly it was not grossness, but agonizing pain that had been averted!

Now came the question as to what to do with this scorpion. Killing it was an option, but I would have to leave it to find something to aid in the process. And I really didn't want to let it escape and continue to wander my home!

Not wishing to awaken the children nor our visitors, Pastor Ron & Elaine, I called in a whisper to my husband to come out. Thankfully he obliged. More thankfully than that, he did the duty of collecting the scorpion for "show and tell" the next day to our visitors. And yes, they were impressed!

Rest assured, the flashlight stayed faithfully by my bedside for years to come!

Sponges & Spirituality

What does our spirituality have to do with sponges? The speaker at the One Way Winter Retreat shed some light on that. In fact, he even demonstrated it. Dipping a desert dry sponge into a jug of clean, pure water, he waited for the sponge to soak it up. You could almost hear the dry sponge breathing a sigh of relief to finally be filled again!—And then he threw the sponge at one of the teens! Clean, pure water splattered over the teen. If others had been close by, they would have been affected as well.

When we let GOD fill our lives HE will spill out from us, overflowing into the lives of others. On the flip side, when we allow our lives to become saturated with ungodly thoughts, ideals, motives and attitudes, don't think for a second we'll be able to contain them. They too will overflow into the lives of others causing heartache and chaos.

I hope your prayer is as mine, that my life would be saturated with GOD, that my life would be an outpouring of HIM to others.

Beneath the Surface

The sun setting in a remote village in Venezuela. Just looking at it makes me turn nostalgic. Memories of 18 years as a missionary in Venezuela come bubbling to the surface.

Tamatama is a beautiful village in the middle of the Amazon jungle along the Orinoco River. There are no roads leading to nor from Tamatama. The river is the lifeline. A grass airport provides the only other means of entering or leaving this beautiful village.

I could show you picture after picture revealing the beauty of Tamatama. The sunrises are as beautiful as the sunsets. The river is gorgeous. The jungle is a mixture of intense greens. But pictures are one-dimensional, never showing the full reality.

You could look at those pictures and imagine lying down at the Orinoco River’s edge listening to the water rushing by, feeling the sun on your face, and enjoying the closeness of the jungle. What an experience!

But then you’d discover the gnats. Visitors to Tamatama soon found any exposed skin covered by itsy-bitsy itchy red dots left by the biting gnats. And those were the lucky ones. Many reacted to the bites leaving slightly infected, not so itsy-bitsy spots, that irritated them even once they escaped to the houses.

Just as you can look at this one-dimensional picture and not see below the surface to the 'hardships' that also come with visiting such a beautiful place, sometimes we look at people’s picture-perfect lives as ‘snapshots’ of their existence without seeing the depths of their struggles. My prayer is that I would look past the snapshot of people's lives and be sensitive to their heart struggles.

Simple Blessings

Sleep on a youth group's Winter Retreat is never quite the same as sleep at home. God understands that. I arrived back at work on Monday stiffer and slower than usual. On my desk sat my "thought and verse for the day" calendar. Discarding the "thoughts" for the weekend days, I smiled as I read Monday's verse:

"I laid me down and slept." Psalms 3:5

Followed by Monday's thought:

"May I never take that simple blessing for granted."

Talk about echoing off my thoughts of the night before---and even a verse to go along with it!

Kerosene & Cleaning Day!

Cleaning is cleaning, right? Or is it? Living in the middle of the jungle in a mud and pole house with a palm roof and cement floors brought new methods of cleaning than I'd previously been accustomed to. For example, do you know how to seal a cement floor when chemical sealers are unavailable? I do now!

Kerosene and wax. You take those two ingredients, put them in a gallon-sized tin can over the gas burner on your stove and heat them until the wax melts. Then you're down on your hands and knees with a rag smearing your homemade cement sealer over the floor. And it really works!

Kerosene and wax melting on the gas burner? Really, it is safe. I did it many, many times. Of course, there was that one time...

The kitchen was buzzing with activity. A team was visiting to help with a project in the village. Several ladies were working on desserts. I had one twin on my hip and the other one crawling around my feet as I waited for the candles to melt into the kerosene. I wanted to get the floors done before lunch.

I glanced into the can to see how the candles were coming, then glanced at my watch. We were still on schedule. Juggling the twin on my hip I was clearing counters when the kerosene burst into flames. That was a first for me. Quickly I turned off the flame and topped the can in a successful attempt at smothering the fire.

Never having had that happen before I checked with more seasoned missionaries than myself. They said though it was not the norm, it could happen. That was enough for me. Back at the kitchen, I made sure no kerosene or wax was on the outside of the can, turned the flame back on and headed for a quick pit stop while the candles continued to melt.

Remember, this was a jungle house with jungle construction. The bathroom adjacent to the kitchen was one of the few rooms with a ceiling, but still there was a gap between the wall and the ceiling. It was through that gap that I suddenly saw flames licking upwards.

"Turn off the gas, then top that can!" I yelled out from the bathroom. Those in the kitchen complied.

Thankfully the wax was melted by then and I sealed the floors.

Around lunch time my husband arrived home and I told him the story. His response sent a shudder down my spine: "That wasn't kerosene, that was aviation fuel!"

Looking back at the can and knowing what I then knew, I could see the faint, mostly worn off markings that should have indicated that aviation fuel had been put into a kerosene can.

For the rest of the day I kept thanking God for protecting me from myself!

An Adventure of God's Making

There's nothing better than heading off on an adventure of God's making!

I'll admit the busload of teens was all I predicted it to be---not calm and definitely not quiet!

I'll admit during the opening session as the leader had the teens screaming and cheering that I reached for my bag and popped Advil to short-circuit the ominous throbbing beginning in my head.

I'll admit that after participating in the many games of volleyball, after walking up the steep hill to the girls' dorm more times than I really cared to, that I discovered muscles where I'd forgotten I had muscles!

But I can't finish this blog without admitting that though I came away from the Winter Retreat physically ready for a hot tub and a quiet night, that I also came away spiritually encouraged and blessed. I can tell you I was blessed by the messages brought by the speaker---and that would be true. More awesome than that was having the opportunity to get to know the teens on a personal level and to be blessed by the testimony shining through their lives.

John 13:35 reads: "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." To see teens getting along, sharing with each other, helping each other, and demonstrating a love that is not of this world, but a love that reveals that they are HIS disciples is an awesome thing to see.

God invited me on what appeared to be an uncertain venture and turned it into a definite adventure!