This Thursday night, we plan to open our salon (gotta think of a name for the place...any suggestions?) to community youth for a New Year's Eve party. This is, of course, a night traditionally given to much revelry. I visited several friends here Christmas Eve who are well-under age and were already drinking heavily before the night got started, and I hear they're planning a repeat. So we hope to not only provide an alternative to the Christian youth, but something to attract those who might be "otherwise" engaged.

Thank you to those who have been helping out with getting the youth center open. We now have the sound set up, a little spinning disco-style light, and a counter-top area to serve food and drinks from. We plan to have some games, some snacks, lots of Christian music and videos, a karaoke contest, and a whole lot of good, clean fun. So please say a prayer for all to go well in preparing, inviting, and pulling this off, and if you're not busy, swing on by!

Don't you hate the BLAH that comes when Christmas is over? That's one of the things we're avoiding this year. I told you about how we spent the night of the 23rd, at the live nativity scene, so I'll start from there with the rest of our Holiday.

Christmas Eve was a pretty normal day until the sun began to set, and then I noticed that all the houses had put lights around their pesebres (manger scenes) sometime during that day. They'd also hung branches over the top, to make the roof more authentic, and put grass and a dirt path under the animals and the holy family. Most had Christmas bulbs/balls hanging from strings from the ceiling of the pesebre, and some even had chipa (traditional doughnut shaped bread) hanging alongside the bulbs.

As it got dark, a few gals from the neighborhood came and got me, saying it was time to do the pesebre walk. We went house to house, and each had chairs set up in front of their pesebres. As we came to each yard, the lady of the home welcomed us, had us sit down, and then said that Baby Jesus wanted to give us a gift. Before the walk was up, Baby Jesus (with a little help from the ladies of each home) had given me several glasses of Coke, fruit salad, and a little candy. I saw some very interesting pesebres and decided mine was a little embarrassing in comparison. Thankfully, they all know we're neither locals or Catholics, so we're learning!

At one home, my friend leaned over with a wink and whispered, "This is what we call a modern pesebre." It had the typical animals (about 100 of them, literally), the shepherds, and then a row of matchbox cars, some small dolls to the side, and whatever small toys they could find, grouped together in little bunches to the side of the typical contents.

The families were so excited to have visitors come to see their pesebres, and it was a great opportunity to meet all our neighbors or visit ones we'd already met.

When darkness fell, the noise level rose. Every child in Paraguay converged in front of our house (we live on the biggest corner of the neighborhood), to pop firecrackers and bottle rockets. Fireworks here are a bit dangerous, as you can imagine, and I can't tell you how many I saw pop in tiny hands. Even the smallest children had bags full of these firecrackers, and quickly they all divided into teams and began throwing them at each other. It was a bit more work than I was up for, as all this was taking place basically on our front porch, and more than one child was burned. The attempts to have their parents come be a part of it, or to send the children closer to their homes where their parents could supervise, were completely pointless. Unfortunately, Christmas Eve was a night of much drinking for the teens and adults, and the firecrackers were one way of keeping the kids at a distance. But we survived, and with a little burn ointment, so did the 5,000 children in front of our home. Okay, I exaggerated that a little, but there were about 30, ranging from 3 or 4 years old to a few older, mischievous late-teens.

Around 11:45 PM, all the families began to eat the traditional meal. We were invited to eat with our next-door neighbors, but I could only watch them eat. I'm not quite used to a LARGE meal at midnight yet. At precisely midnight (everyone's listening to the radio), more fireworks, and then hugs and well-wishing for those you are eating with. Within a few minutes, the street was filled with the neighbors, all walking house to house for the same hugs and "Congratulations!"

Five or six women of various ages have died in this small neighborhood this past year, so for many that were out and about, it was a very sad time. We talked with many who were spending their first Christmas without their mother or grandmother, and it left a little cloud over the whole night. We were told that usually the celebration is larger (I can't imagine), but that with so many people still grieving, this year was "low key."

We loved being able to spend time with our neighbors, and ushering in Jesus' birthday with a bang. The fact that we were the only family up early the next day put a sort of quiet, reverent feel on Christmas morning, which we really relished. Later we visited with friends near the capital and the Mortons in Itaugua. The girls pointed out several times that we were really blessed this year, not only because we had a few gifts under a tree, but because we learned a new way to appreciate the birth of our Savior, and we spent it together.

How was your day?

I know it's Christmas Eve and most normal folks aren't on their computers, but I just HAD to share this with you! Last night, we attended the live nativity scene at the little chapel a few doors down from our house. It was just BEAUTIFUL!! My favorite part was how the crowd cheered when baby Jesus appeared. Perfect reaction. Forget the formality of the occasion, JESUS IS HERE!

The parents worked hard to get their children ready for this and community folks worked all day at setting up the huge stable. We were a little sad to be missing the traditional "Christmas program" at church this year, so it was thrilling to find this happening on our own street (dirt road). What was even more thrilling was the fact that the Bible nativity story was read by several people and a little talk given about why parents need to take part in their children's spiritual lives. Okay, click below for the video, and pay special attention to the little shepherd that wanted to whack the (live) baby Jesus with his staff.

We hope you got to enjoy something similar to this and were reminded as well, that it's all about Him (not the shepherd with the wayward staff, but Jesus....)

As promised, I'm gonna fill you in on the secret life of missionaries in Paraguay for Christmas. It actually gets started a little later than we're used to, but this year we put a tree up the day before Thanksgiving to help us get "in the mood". The week before Christmas (nine days, to be exact), the community starts to celebrate together. We were thrilled that our home was the place they began this year.

This is a Catholic thing, but they asked if they could come, and we were thrilled to welcome them in. Each night up until Christmas Eve, the families of each community visit one home. Usually the nine closest ones to the capilla, or chapel, are chosen. Yes, there's a chapel in every neighborhood. SIDENOTE: Now, when I say community, don't think Bonneau Beach or Powdersville or Knightsville. Think a few blocks. So within every town (Carapegua), there are different barrios (communities) that designate what area of town you live in. We Americans just tend to say, "Behind the Burger King" or "Near the high school."

So they arrived at our home for this first night, and the point is to look at our manger scene (remember the pesebre?) and do a little "ceremony" to remember that Jesus is the reason for Christmas. Granted, there was a whole lot of mention of his mother, but that's to be expected, right? We sang, read some scriptures, and had a little guided discussion on the holiday. Then we served the children popcorn and kool-aid (I found out later that most homes serve sidra, a type of alcoholic apple cider with fruit floating in it). We learned a few new Christmas songs, like the Spanish version of Jingle Bells. It doesn't mention snow, of course, but is called "Din Din Don" to mimick the sound the bells make.

(OKAY, I'm going off on a tangent here, so follow me. I have been enlightened to the significance of the pesebre and feel the need to explain, since my last post highlighted these Paraguayan manger scenes. You know how it is at home--pretty much every house has a Christmas tree, practically every Christian home (and some that aren't) has a manger scene. So when I found out that this is a large part of the Christmas tradition here, I was thrilled to run out and set up a manger scene. HOWEVER, I didn't take into account that things here are WAY different than at home. What we know of Catholicism from living in the US is a whole different world than the Catholicism here, which is a strange blend of idolatry and a bit of dark magic, mixed with the teachings of the Catholic church and the traditions of their Indian culture. And because Momma and Grandma and Great-Grandma all did it, it's a big part of every day life that's not questioned, it's just done. We're used to seeing saints on necklaces or dashboards of cars, or in hospitals, etc. But here, every home has at least one area (sometimes a whole room) dedicated to one or more saints, who stand there as a statue that is believed to actually contain the personification of this saint, and these statues have candles lit to them, incense burned to them, and various chanted prayers recited to them throughout the day and into the night. Hence, to put up little statues of Jesus' family and the stable full of animals is seen by non-Catholic Christians here as idolatry, because they are used to this worship of the ceramic saints. And of course, Mary and Joseph are both saints. I have had to explain our ignorance and the use of manger scenes in the US numerous times when our protestant friends visit and are shocked that we have a manger scene. After the explanation, they seem to understand and none has been offended, but you should see their faces! It makes perfect sense, but never crossed my mind. There are so many cultural things to take into effect with every breath we take here, and quite honestly, sometimes we're just caught off guard.)

Back to the story. The next night, all the families met in the next home and repeat this meeting, with a little different Bible text and discussion topic. It all lasts about an hour. It's called Family Christmas (Navidad Familiar), and you have to give them kudos for trying to keep the focus on the birth of Jesus, rather than commercialism or what-have-you. At home, we'd be discussing how the gifts aren't the main thing, but because gifts don't happen much on Christmas here, there was much talk about how the firecrackers aren't the main thing. I was glad to hear that, because the way they wake me up popping them every morning before the sun's up, somebody NEEDS to remind these kids that the firecrackers aren't what December is all about. ;) I hear they'll be riciculous on Christmas Eve, though!

On the ninth night, after making the home visit, all the families will meet at the chapel and dress the kids for a live nativity scene. Because our community is named after Jesus' earthly father, Barrio San Jose (Saint Joseph Community), it's said that people will visit here expecting to see something more "special" than in the other communities. After the nativity scene, each family shares a dish of food, and we eat together. I CAN'T WAIT! This takes place on the 23rd.

On Christmas Eve, people visit their family and friends, going door to door (I can't figure out how, because if everyone is out going door to door, who's home to be visited?) After dark, they begin cooking the supper--usually grilled beef or pork (asado), and fire-cooked cornbread called sopa. At midnight, the families eat their supper and pop firecrackers. I remember not sleeping much last year, because our girls still wanted to wake up early for Christmas morning.

Here, the celebration is what I just described as Christmas Eve. The next day, the 25th, everyone's resting from the night before and just eating leftovers. If they have transportation, many go take a dip in a nearby stream to cool off.

Everyone who comes in and sees our tree is amazed to hear that Christmas celebrations for us center more around the day of the 25th. I'll let you know how it all turns out, but our prayer is that you enjoy the wonder of it all this year, and remember that it's not all about the firecrackers!!!

Okay, you already know that it's H.O.T. here in December, and that last year we had a 4th of July-style hamburger picnic for our Christmas lunch. But how about all those little things that make it seem like Christmas? When we drive into the capital, which has been influenced more by American and European culture, we see the mall decorated with Santa and snowmen and a giant tree.

We have a Christmas tree this year, and Ken put icicle lights up on our balcony. Typically folks don't have trees in their homes, however. A few have told us that close to Christmas, they may throw some lights on a tree or two in the yard. What they DO have are pesebres (pay SAY brays), which is their version of a manger scene. We got one, too, and set it up right beside our tree. It makes a nice blend of our traditions with theirs.

The pesebre is usually a homemade stick house with long, dried grasses on top to make the roof. Very similar to some of the pictures I've posted of folks' houses out here in the rural areas. Underneath, you'll find Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, fruits and vegetables (at times), and an assortment of ceramic animals. They aren't always the animals you're used to, like donkeys and camels. We've seen chickens sitting on eggs and little chicks. There are milking cows, pigs, you name it. And in this case, size doesn't matter. Baby Jesus can be three times the size of his parents, and the animals range from teency to waaaay big. Sometimes it looks like something from a horror movie, like Attack of the Giant Hen, or The Holy Family vs. Piggy Bank. A little strange when you first see it. Generally, though, it's a ceramic collection of farm animals and the little family, except larger versions than what we use at home. At times, the scenes are too large for the house and are placed in the yard, which is nice to see.

There are also flowers of the coconut tree for sale on every street corner, although they don't really look like flowers. They are long pods with seeds inside, that are placed in the pesebres. The coco flowers have a strong smell, which is to Paraguayans what the smell of baking chocolate chip cookies is to Southerners. Straight up Christmas!

Next post, I'll explain what happens on Christmas Eve and the 25th, as it's a little different from what we're used to, as well. What's your Christmas like?

Three young ladies from the local youth group graduated high school this past week. They've been attending public high school in town, but as with practically everything here, their ceremony of graduation took place in the Catholic church. The priest opened, and we had a mini-service before the students received their diplomas, complete with readings and prayers and such. We always stick out like sore thumbs for not reciting the liturgies. I'm still not sure if some of them are in Latin or Spanish.

Graduating is quite an accomplishment for these young ladies, as many of their peers drop out of school opting for employment. Two of these girls live apart from their families, working as housecleaner/nanny while completing their educations. We've found that to be very common. At the age of 13-15, girls are considered ready to work in a home as the live-in maid, which sometimes offers them the opportunity to live closer to town and thus attend school. I somehow can't imagine Camille being away from us every day and night like that, though, and supporting herself through working. I can't really imagine ANY young girl of that age being away from the guidance and direction of her parents, but it happens. As sad as it all seems to us, it sheds light on the need for ministering to the teenagers in this situation. Congratulations to these three who persevered and earned their diplomas!

(WARNING: It's late and I'm pensive. This disclaimer does not discount anything you're about to read, but should you choose to read on, do so with that in mind and DO NOT HATE ON ME IN THE COMMENTS. It makes you look bad...)

So, today is the day Paraguayans set aside to pay homage to the Virgin of the city of Caacupe, which you can read about here. Tonight, we went to a class about Catholicism, tracing the roots of not only the religion itself, but where the adoration of a woman (often goddesses in ancient societies) originated. Very interesting.

After the class, we were invited to a friend's home for ice cream (making and selling ice cream is their family business, complete with a bunch of hand carts--coolers on wheels--that are pushed through town). As we sat around enjoying the company of really nice folks, the conversation turned the direction it always takes. "How are you adjusting to here? Do you miss your family/your traditions/your food/___ (fill in the blank) very much? Do you need any help? Are you understanding the Guarani?" etc. Bless their hearts, these Paraguayans are SO neighborly and just go out of their way to make us feel comfortable.

When we visit a new church, for example, it's often a bit awkward because we're offered "the best seat in the house," and acknowledged from the pulpit. In stores, people want to touch the girls' hair or remark on how beautiful they are or make a quick conversation with us. Our neighbors look in on us to help us learn new recipes or show us how to do things without the tools we're used to. People just go out of their way to be nice.

Now, I've heard it explained away that it's not friendliness, it's an awareness of the American dollar. I don't go for that. Okay, sure that happens sometimes, and sometimes the merchants give us a "special price" that means they're increasing the normal cost to take advantage of our ignorance. But more often than not, people are extremely helpful and generous.

MY POINT? Every time I am asked about how we're getting along here, I think about those friends we made in the U.S. who came FROM these Latin American countries. I think of the "warm" reception they received. Mind you, this is not a political discussion. Please don't hate me in the comments. I don't pretend to know all the in's and out's of the spectrum of topics regarding immigration into the United States. All I know is that I met precious people, that, for whatever reasons, moved to my home country. Not unlike what we did in moving here. Regardless of their background or their reasonings, they were often in great need of some assistance. Not unlike we've been here. The times I was blessed to accompany them in seeking this assistance (enrolling children in school, trying for a driver's license, going for dr's appointments), I'm ashamed to say that my fellow citizens treated these new residents quite poorly. The worst examples were from appointments wherein my friends were trying to do things legally. I then understood (not condoned, but understood) why so many choose to fly under radar.

I've reflected on those experiences a million times here, like when we'd only been here a few weeks and my ear/tongue had not adjusted to Paraguayan Spanish. I made several emergency room visits where I was unable to speak or understand very well. Did that make my need any less? If anything, it made me MORE sick, from the added nervousness of the language and not knowing how their healthcare operates here.

I've thought about the people who go out of their way to smile at us or tell my children that they are beautiful. (One of which sticks out like a sore thumb here, from a mile away, and is acutely aware of that.) When our friends, the Cediels, came from Colombia, South America, they came with their own two adorable daughters with them (and a handsome son...), but I'm guessing not many they met bothered to tell them they were pretty.

So many times they talk about wanting to visit the States and see some of the things from the movies (mostly snow). They ask if people's yards really are THAT big, or if practically everyone really does have a car. They want to see the beautiful scenes of all the natural beauty we're blessed with. But when I imagine the good people I've met here, who have helped us so much, stepping foot on my turf, I cringe a bit. I know that sounds bad, but you gotta know what I mean. My tendency is to protect them from us by lying with, "Nah, it's all just Hollywood trickery. Save your money and stay here."

I could go on and on, but my point is this: regardless of your stand on immigration, people are human (most of us) and we all have needs. So the next time you're in Berea Wal-Mart and the Mexican gentleman fumbles through his wallet trying to understand how many coins he should give the cashier, think of me doing the same thing here and help the guy out. Show your foreign neighbor how to use some of the appliances he can't figure out. Sit next to the new kid that's too nervous to speak the English he's learning. And to the child who had no choice in moving and probably DIDN'T want to leave the familiar behind, a smile and "hello" goes a long way. Let the government handle the messes--and even get involved in that if you'd like (more Christians SHOULD)--but love the people you come in contact with day to day, like Jesus would. Don't send the Samaritan woman home without water just because someone said you shouldn't share the same drinking glass.

The pastor's wife (La Pastora, seen poking her head out from behind the little Abuela in the middle) has started ladies' meetings, with the purpose of uniting us in prayer. These meetings take place twice per month and are community-wide, with new ladies each time. This week I had the privilege of hosting the meeting in our salon (great room). We decorated in the princess theme, since the Pastora has been reminding us that we're daughters of the King. Each lady received a royal scepter so that she could think on this after leaving the event.

The meetings always talk about being a woman of excellence, and this week, the guest speaker elaborated on the first step to becoming such a woman: inner healing. She spoke of past experiences and how she had to allow God access to the private places of her heart, in order to have Him clean those wounds and begin the healing process. All were moved by her talk and challenged to release to God what holds us back from being the woman of excellence He plans for us to be. At the end of the meetings, each lady draws a name from a box and prays for that lady for the next two weeks. At the next meeting, we learn who's been praying for us and what specific things they felt led to pray about.

Many of these ladies work VERY LONG hours each day in difficult conditions, but they were so involved in the discussions that none wanted to leave, even an hour after we'd scheduled to finish. It was a great time of fellowship and sharing, and what a privilege to host it in our home.

(PS-They wanted me to tell you about this and post their picture, so you know that women are the same everywhere--we need God and each other.)

My baby girl isn't much of a baby anymore. Caroline turned 11 today. {{SIGH}} How quickly the time passes! I remember waiting for her to get here, and how I seriously considered changing her name once she was born, but Camille had been talking to my belly and calling her Baby Cow-oh-line for so long, I thought it'd give her an identity crisis and Camille would always wonder what happened to that bulge in my belly we'd been calling Caroline, and where this new kid came from. So, Caroline it was!

She's such a fun girl, always clowning around (yes, even when she should be doing schoolwork or chores), and making everyone smile. She's an absolute book freak, but she got that honest, from both sides of the family. She's just started taking guitar lessons and has this natural inclination to dance. You'd never know that from the embarrassment she showed earlier today, but more about that later. It's been such a joy to watch her grow and imagine what God has in store for her life.

Caroline isn't much on crowds or being the center of attention. She'd rather sit at the back and watch from afar, and she much more prefers small affairs to grand galas. I have to remind myself of this often, as I'm just the opposite. She's been challenged the most of all of us, in adjusting to a country where privacy and personal space don't mean the same thing. How sweet to see her stepping timidly out of her comfort zone to interact with people and help us in the ministry. And as is the joy of every missionary parent, it's just too cool to hear her speak fluently in another language.

True to her personality, she chose to invite a couple friends out to a Princess Day instead of having a birthday fiesta. They donned crowns and had lunch together, followed by a trip to the theater to see Ice Age 3. In the restaurant, the wait staff insisted that Caroline sing a little song about all the parts of the chicken ("The chicken has feet, the chicken has wings," or something to that effect.) We enjoyed celebrating her big day and spending it with her friends. Click below for the photo and video of her song and dance. Happy birthday, Baby Girl!