This weekend was the Southern District Convention, and we had a wonderful time. It took place this year right here in Carapegua (YAY! Convenient!) so we had the privilege of hosting a traveling family in our home Saturday night. That's always fun.

The theme for the Convention was "Our Work: Reconciliation." I had the preconceived notion that we'd hear a lot of talk about restoring relationships within the church, within our families, etc. And while that was covered, a big focus was on our job as believers, to facilitate reconciliation between God and his wayward children. We need to be constantly aware of how we can help people draw closer to God, and to see each neighbor as a son or daughter of our Father.

Ken was thrilled to play the congas for praise and worship alongside our friend Ruben, and I really enjoyed "doing what I do" with the computer and projector. It makes such a huge difference to us foreigners to see the words of the songs splashed up on the wall in giant letters. The girls were our assistants, grabbing things and pushing buttons and all that jazz.

We enjoyed the chance to connect with other brothers and sisters in the Lord, and to hear the Word that was shared about reconciliation with our Father, nuestro Padre, Nandejara.

We enjoyed a wonderful Thanksgiving today, not just because we had a FEAST, but because we shared it with good friends--American ones who helped the dinner to be fantastic, and Paraguayan ones who sampled some of the best southern cuisine (including sweet iced tea) one could offer. Kudos to Ken's mom for mailing us Stove Top stuffing which arrived right on time. The locals were impressed with it and couldn't believe it came from a box. :)

We had time to think of missing family and friends, and how thankful we are of their support of us here. The encouragement goes such a long way. We also thought of how blessed we are with good friends here, and with God's hand of protection and provision over us.

We are thankful for so many things, and want to remain so throughout the year. I've been reading a devotion that focuses on making thankfulness a way of life, and how that sort of attitude (it's all about perspective, remember?) can change not only your outlook but your circumstances. The writer gave the example of a day when things weren't going right--you know those days, when everything you touch seems to blow up. Rather than see it as a moment to be be thankful for all things and search for that "silver lining," she got caught up in the negative and grumped around the house. Before she knew it, her kids were grumpy, and the environment in the home was altogether different.

As adults, we SHOULD be able to manage ourselves better, but I'm so guilty of letting circumstances dictate my moods at times. On the big stuff, not so much, but burning rice or finding an empty toilet paper roll can get under my skin. So much nicer if I thank God that I have an option other than eating the burnt rice, and that I have an indoor toilet and another roll of paper to replace the empty roll. Perspective. Thankfulness. Joy.

That's a fancy word for selling noodle dinners to raise money for a cause. We've bought from churches in construction projects and families in health/hospital crises, but this weekend, we took part in our first hosting of a tallarinada.

The tallarine (tie yar EEN) is a pasta about half the width of fettucine, but very commonly used here like we'd use spaghetti noodles. They mix these long strands with a homemade thin sauce of tomato juice and vegetable oil, and then slap a chicken quarter on top. Folks eat it up.

The local church sold them for the purchase of sound equipment and musical instruments. At $1/plate, they were going like hotcakes! We used our backyard and garage as the "kitchen." What fun it was! The heat was practically intolerable, but sitting under the shady mango trees while the pots heated up on homemade grills, we enjoyed the company of our Christian brothers and sisters. The event always draws a crowd, so neighbors came by and we all had a great time. Afterward, several games of volleyball topped off a great day, and all went home with full bellies.

This weekend, we were asked to drive a local Christian band and some of their instruments, to a concert in the next town. Ken wasn't quite recovered (he's better now) from his sickness last week, so I was the designated chauffeur. Cars aren't nearly as plentiful here as at home, and women driving them are even more rare. So when I showed up behind the wheel, there were some looks of trepidation. All climbed in, though, and we ladies enjoyed a wonderful night of music.

We heard everything from Guarani rap to an Argentinian Southern gospel quartet (I'm not even kidding), and all in between. One of the performers was a famous Paraguayan folklorist, who sang about his birth-city, his relationship with God, and the Christian life. During the songs, as the guitarists continued to play, he recited poetry instead of place of verses. Caroline was quite impacted and has been making up poems and reciting them quite dramatically ever since.

Both girls have decided to try their hands at musical talent. Caroline has been taking guitar lessons from one of the local youth, and Camille started drum lessons from another. They are trading those out for English lessons. Gotta love kids who know how to barter!

Remember the post I did a few weeks back about the David and Goliath Bible lesson at the school? The picture of little David decapitating Ken? His oldest brother Carlitos is one of the young men who was coming to youth activities we held in Arazaty, and we've visited their home several times. Ken took pictures of the children for the family photo project, and presented them to the mother. He was trying to take pictures of the whole family, but we never could catch this mom at home. She is a single mother with four children in the home, always walking to sell herbs and homemade cheese. Well, little David, whose name is actually Gabriel, and his family had a bit of a rough week.

The mother walked an hour to our house to tell us the storm that passed through last week, had destroyed their home. We drove back to take a look at it, and it was quite sad. The entire house, including the outdoor kitchen area we'd call a porch, is the size of a small American bedroom. It was built of mudbricks made by hand, and covered with a grass roof. When the roof came down, the one-year-old baby girl was sleeping inside, but thank God was only scratched up a bit.

When we got there, a couple uncles and another man from the neighborhood were chopping coconut palm trees down and peeling the trunks to use to frame the house in. The mother had made arrangements for the bricks, but was lacking the money for the roof. For this reason she walked to our house. Because the home is small, $60 took care of all the roofing sheets and nails. They are solid sheets of roofing that will keep out the rain and stand up to the wind much better than the former roof. I can't tell you how wonderful it was to be able to buy this for her and give their family more peace of mind. Thank you again for helping us live in Paraguay and have opportunities to minister such as this one.

This past weekend we attended the National Cantata '09, in the city of Capiata. This was a singing involving churches from all over the country, where each church was represented by a group or a soloist. I got to do what I love (work the computer and project videos/lyrics/powerpoints), while listening to wonderful music. Most sang solos of hymns or popular praise and worship tunes, but there was also a very young drummer, a rapper, and some guitarists. I also acted as a judge, although I make a terrible one. I'm thinking anyone who has the nerve to stand up there and share his or her talent deserves a trophy. My scoring didn't help matters a bit. :)

Thankfully, a southern wind has brought a break in the 100* temperatures, but it's also brought storms and power outages, and at times, we have no water. That's never fun. I'm happy to announce, however, that when we have water, it's CLEAN WATER!!!! We were finally able to locate a little machine thingy that hooks up to our kitchen sink, and filters the water three different ways. What a plus this is for our family! We were buying and boiling water before that, and it had gotten so bad that we were drinking colas regularly because they were safer than the water. My children thought it was pure heaven, as we've never really been a family to drink colas, and then only on "special days." You could actually SEE the funk floating (well, sinking, really) in a clear glass of water. For that reason, I always tried to drink from a colored cup. Haha. Seriously, though, thank God for cooler temperatures and clean drinking water.

For the sake of those of you who found me on a google search for water filters in Paraguay (I just love it when I get googled!), I'll give you the details. We drove all over the world, called a million stores, and spent ages online searching this one out, so maybe it'll save you the trouble. We found the sink unit and others much larger (think whole house systems), in a store in Asuncion called Agua & Tecnologia (A&T), on Avenida Boggiani N. It was a little tough to find, but it was right next door to a cooperativa, on the Ayala end of Boggiani. Elida was very helpful in showing us what was available and finding what would best meet our needs. If you go by, tell them we sent you!

This weekend was the first Sunday morning HAPPY HOUR (La Hora Feliz)! Well, the first one in our house, anyway. Amber's been focusing on children as part of her mission internship, by teaching the little folks in our weekly English class, and now by hosting an hour of Bible learning and fun for the children in the neighborhood. Camille and Caroine were thrilled to be her "assistants."

We weren't sure how many to expect, but were hoping for 10. Word spread, and there were 18 very attentive, very well behaved kids in the front room. Amber handled it like a champ, reading the Creation account IN SPANISH and holding their attention through the whole story. She separated them into 7 groups (one for each day of Creation) and had them illustrate their specific day. Then they lined up in order of Days 1-7, to show their drawings. The groups really put a lot of effort into doing a good job on their little projects. Next, each child received a coloring page with the memory scripture on the bottom, along with popcorn and kool-aid.

The children responded wonderfully and have been talking about it since! They keep asking how many days till next Sunday! Good job, Amber.

Yesterday we attended the baptism of our little neighbor, Chino (CHEE noe). His real name is Arnaldo, but nicknames are more common than given ones here, and the shape of his eyes earned him the nickname early on (it means "Chinese person"). His baptism took place in the large Catholic church in the city square. It was our first Catholic service, and I have to tell you that the cathedral was just beautiful. The decor and architecture distracted me from paying close attention to the sermonette.

I'd done a little homework about baby baptisms before we went, to be sure I understood what was happening. Catholics believe that this initial baptism is "into the faith" and imparts the saving grace necessary to go to heaven. Throughout the lifetime, more is required to get grace for daily living. For example, I can make a pilgrimage to a holy place and that gets me a certain amount of grace to cover a certain amount of past sins. There are various acts I can perform to "earn" this grace (seems like grace means UNMERITED favor, right?), and each gets me a certain amount of points, so to speak. When I die, this gets tallied up, in addition to extra points if my family is performing the necessary rituals following my death, and hopefully I've earned my way into heaven.

So yesterday. The service was beautiful in a formal way, like a wedding. It didn't feel like "church" as I'm used to, of course, but each member of the congregation (our family excluded) seemed to have the proper prayers and recitations memorized and said them as a whole when prompted. There were a few hymns and a sermonette. When the service finished, the baptisms started. There were probably about 50 babies and small children in line for their turn, each dressed in the finest white dress or suit that the family could afford. About half had come in for the service from the outlying areas, and it was easy to tell who lived out in the country and who lived in town.

Chino, in particular, is from the country and, I suspect, had never been in a group of people so large. He'd also probably never had to keep a pair of shoes on that long, nor wear long pants and a vest. Needless to say, he was not happy about any of it. When the priest walked through the crowd to touch each child and speak his blessing, Chino began to kick and shove the poor robed stranger. I'm sure you can imagine how he reacted when his mother leaned him back over the tub for the priest to pour water over his hair. It was quite a scene! Then the priest walked through the crowd and touched each child again. All the while, professional photographers were weaving their way in and out like the Pope was visiting orphans or something. I tried to get at least one picture of the families I recognized from Arazaty, knowing they'd probably not be able to afford the professional ones they'd be offered later.

After the second walk-through, the priest called the godmothers up to light candles, and each took hers back to present to the mother. Chino took a tiny break from his screaming when his mom took the candle, but it only lasted a second or two. The pictures I got of him are just priceless. Well, for his patient mom who had to try to calm him down for that hour, probably not so much, but for me as an onlooker, just too cute. Unfortunately, my camera hand wasn't operating quickly enough to get a shot of Ken, Camille, Caroline, or Amber, as EACH ONE of them tripped over the oddly built benches. They have a tall board you have to step over to get out into the aisle, as well as a "kneeling board" that your feet rest on in the sitting position. Awkward.

We were invited back to their house for a special lunch, complete with home-grown chicken and a yummy cake. Several family members had come in from out-of-town and Chino's mom, Mirtha, had been preparing the home and the food for days in anticipation of this lunch. We were terribly honored to have been included as part of the family. They say that we are all the time, but to pull us in on a special day like this was very humbling and meant a lot to us. Thankfully, Chino was much happier to be home with the folks he knows than to be in the baptism ceremony! That's him giving the thumbs up sign beside Caroline.

One year, 365 days, 52 weeks, 12 months, a whole lot of learning and laughing and missing and crying and loving and roasting and freezing and cooking and cleaning and messing up and most of all, PRAYING!! "Oh, Lord, are you SURE I'm cut out for this?" "Oh, Lord, can I really keep up with this list?" "Oh, Lord, is anyone being touched by what we do?" "Oh, Lord, am I going to burst into flames out here?" "Oh, Lord, how did I get so blessed?"

So we touched down in the Asuncion airport one year ago today, and only had an inkling of what the year would hold. We've learned a lot, mostly that we have a lot to learn! And we've made some great friends here. God has been good, and we're just thrilled to death that He's put us here, excited about what's next in His plan for Paraguay: Year 2. :)

Thanks for all the prayers and support of all kinds you've given us. When we say, "It means so much," we really mean it. There's no way to say what the encouragement, advice, prayers, finances, emails, phone calls, care packages, and ___ (Fill in the blank with any one of the many ways you've shown us your love and His love) have done to make this year possible. We made it through together, so rejoice WITH us today!!

We had a wonderful visit tonight with the Kurrle family from down south, near the city of Encarnacion. You may recognize them from their blog, which I've been following for a good while.

He is a 3rd generation MK (missionary's kid), and his grandparents actually came to Brazil on a BOAT! He was raised in Argentina and Paraguay, then met his bride in college in the States. They finished seminary and moved here seven years ago, and are as Paraguayan as the mandioca (that's a saying here). He is starting a discipleship school after working in radio for a long time, and she runs a child sponsorship program.

They have the CUTEST little boy, Timmy, who will turn 4 soon. Caroline had a great time playing KNex with him, building boats and cars and motorcycles. She remarked several times that he's just so polite and as cute as can be. They're going through the process to adopt a Paraguayan baby, so keep their family in your prayers.

They were such a blessing to us tonight, sharing the stories of similar experiences, encouraging us in so many ways, and just being cool "normal" folks. It's always a little like meeting some movie star that I've known from TV Land when I meet someone I've known from a blog, but such fun. Thank God for the time we got to spend with these "stars." (Daniel 12:3)

This past Sunday, a couple was baptized. We had the Lord's Supper that evening, and the couple came forward to give their testimony. This same couple had been up front a good bit the past few weeks to stand before the church and ask prayer. As they told about their shortcomings and failures and asked forgiveness of the church and respective spouse, I remembered when "church" used to be that way. Sometimes I feel like we're in a time warp here, and it's not necessarily a bad thing.

Now, I know that there is an appropriate time and place to air the dirty laundry, but I also know that the Bible tells us to confess our faults one to another. I also know we're encouraged to seek the prayer of the saints and the elders, and how can this be done if we are too "private" to admit when there's a problem? I am the guilty party here. Unless the Lord does some MAJOR something-or-other in me, I've never stood up and don't plan to, to share my sins with my brothers and sisters in the church. Sure, I'll tell you if Ken's lost his job or Caroline has a fever or I've got a toothache, but REALLY personal? Probably not. I wonder how many opportunities for encouragement and prayer support have I missed by not getting personal.

This past Saturday night we participated in a "media-vigilia." A vigilia (pronounced "vee HEE lee uh" and meaning vigil, in English) is an all-night service, usually involving much singing and prayer. This time it only lasted until midnight, hence it's name "half-vigil." There were a couple hours of praise and worship and testimony, and then some teaching on Halloween (it's kinda new here) and our natural temperments.

I know you won't all agree with me on this one, but our little family gave up on Halloween years ago. We used to strike a compromise, as often is done in Christian circles, but our children didn't quite understand the compromise. They (especially Camille) tend to think in clear-cut black and white where things like that are concerned. I'm betting they'll be tee-totallers rather than moderates. I say all that to say what a relief it was to spend our first october in Paraguay. I didn't have to deal with the kids' nightmares from the witch that came swooping down with a scream in the local Bi-Lo, nor their inability to go to sleep because they couldn't stop thinking about the horror movie masked dummy they saw in Wal-Mart. It didn't exactly FEEL like October (think summer in Hell), but my head knew it was and I thanked God for the respite from scary things every time I went out to buy groceries.

The other teaching was on our natural temperments, and how God and the enemy can use them as we allow. For example, I turn out to be something they called sanguine, meaning I'm not really shy and like to talk to people (okay, I admit it, strangers....), and that I tend to jump into things and make commitments without thinking them through. The study showed the strengths and weaknesses of each type, and how a person led by the Spirit can submit these areas to be used for God's glory. I'd studied this before--YEARS before--but it was neat to think of it in terms of my children's personalities.

During the testimony time, different people came forward to talk for a few minutes about what God was doing in their lives, and give thanks. Usually, they ended with a song. Despite how many times I've seen this done in Latin American circles, I still can't quite get used to the freedom the Latino culture has in singing. You know that in the U.S., we tend to only grab a microphone and burst into song from the stage if we have definite talent and have practiced repeatedly, despite what it would seem like after watching the try-outs for American Idol. Here, there is an unashamed boldness to sing praise, whether or not there is talent. I have to tell you that having experienced both sides (talent without heart and heart without talent), I'd choose hands-down the person who is totally tone deaf and causes chills from their lack of ability, but who means what (s)he sings and brings it from deep within the heart. Okay, maybe not on American Idol, but definitely in a church service!! ;)