It's A Christmas Miracle!

Big sins, little sins.  No such thing, right?  I would think that miracles are the same.  How can you classify divine intervention as big or little?  I think I still do sometimes.  Surviving my wreck and getting to keep my leg--big miracle.  Having cooler weather for Christmas--little miracle.  Surprise $167 a couple of days before Christmas--big miracle.  Finding $2 in my pants pocket--little miracle.  The story I want to tell you might qualify for you as a little miracle, but this is a GIANT one in our book.  Hang on for the shortest version I can give you of a long story.

Grab your coffee, your leftover turkey, or your terere, and take a minute to follow me.  It all started back around the birth of Camille, who is almost 15 now.  We were living in St. Stephen, SC, at the time.  My friend Valerie--an awesome singer, the Avon lady, a very soft-hearted giver, and the wife of one of my best high-school buddies--gave me a pretty blue and white blanket.  One of those couch throws that people buy with their favorite sports team logo, or some poem about what it means to be a mother, or Footprints in the Sand.  This one had little hearts and ducks and houses and fit perfectly on the back of my hand-me-down couch.

I used it to throw over my shoulder if someone came over and I happened to be nursing Camille, and then did the same two years later when Caroline came along.  Caroline became quite attached to this blanket and ended up sleeping with it, something that has continued every night to this day.  She's 13 now, so just imagine what this blanket (affectionately known as "keebie" because she got mixed up trying to say "beekie" when she was first learning to talk) now looks like.  I've stitched and restitched more times than I can count, but it's woven, meaning the strings just kinda unravel and no amount of stitching will make them hold on.  In a desperate attempt to salvage the keebie, I sewed a white sheet to the back of it and a satin border all around it, and stitched lines diagonally across the whole thing in every direction.  Still it continued to unravel.

Earlier this year, she came to me almost in tears, pointing out bigger and bigger holes in the keebie.  She admitted it was time to put it in a safe place so that it wouldn't be totally destroyed, but didn't think she could sleep without it.  Enter ebay.  I figured you can find ANYTHING on ebay, right?  Did I mention that this was a limited edition blanket from Avon?  I started praying, because this was looking like finding a needle in a haystack.  I looked everywhere once ebay let me down.  I started sending out emails to anyone I could think of.  I searched through online Avon catalogs and collection houses.  Desperation set in.  I let Caroline know I'd keep sewing, but that she may need to make a decision soon and try to get used to either sleeping without a blanket or trying a towel in its place.

On December 23, something told me I should send Ken to the post office.  I REALLY wanted to go myself this time, but our car was still in the shop and I couldn't walk the 7 or 8 kilometers needed to get to and from the bus stop, or climb in and out of the bus, for that matter.  So on one of the hottest days of the year, he set off to check the mail, just in case we got a Christmas card or something.  Our car ended up "done" that day, so he was able to detour and pick that up--already a good day!  Then he made it to the post office, where not only was there a card with a Christmas movie inside (YAY!), but Valerie--dear, sweet Valerie--had mailed us a box full of her vacuum-sealed Christmas baking.  What did she use to pad the neatly-packed bread and cookies and peanut butter balls?  Yep, you guessed it, a keebie exactly like the one she'd given me around 15 years ago.  She had an extra in her closet.  What a gal.  So today, Caroline got the gift of a lifetime, and the whole family snacked on baked goods just like the abuelas would have been feeding us if we were closer to them.


I'm so glad to know that God is still concerned with the little things, which amount to big things in daily life.  We're calling it the Christmas miracle.  :)

It Rains on the Just and the Unjust

You know it's really hot here now.  We're in summer when North America is in winter, so Christmas looks more like 4th of July--swimming in the creek, eating watermelon, and grilling out.  This past week, the thermometer climbed just shy of 130 degrees for a couple of days, before the bottom fell out on Christmas Eve and we had a massive storm.

We like to see rain in the summer, because it comes in from the south and brings with it cool air.  We immediately dropped into the 60's, with high winds, thunder, and blowing rain.  BEAUTIFUL!  What turned out to be awfully weird for the Paraguayans felt more like what we expect at Christmas-time.  In fact, South Carolina is in a warm snap right now, and when we talked to folks back home, they were at the same outside temperature as we were.

This is all well and good, but remember what the traditions are here.  There isn't any emphasis put on Christmas morning, since the day children receive gifts comes in a couple of weeks, on Day of the Kings (referring to the Wise Men who brought gifts to Baby Jesus).  Instead, the celebrations take place on Christmas Eve, with a living nativity scene in every neighborhood chapel, and grilling out with family and friends.  Then at midnight, tons of fireworks go off and everyone walks around greeting and congratulating the neighbors.


Last night, the misty rain continued to fall when it was time to begin the celebration here at Hogar Ganar.  It came out looking like snow in the pictures.  The children who live here dressed up and acted out the Nativity Story, complete with little Sammy in the manger, and then sang a few carols in Spanish and Guarani. We had to move indoors before the meal, since the rain had soaked everyone and was starting to come down harder.  I ended up cutting out a bit before everyone else because broken bones and metal hardware don't mix well with cold and rain.  At midnight, though, we all went out in front of the house to watch the fireworks, which continued all night.

I think that when Caroline woke up at 6 AM, we were the ONLY people in Paraguay awake.  It was such a huge contrast to the loud "bombs" we heard all night, that it reminded me of the eye of the storm when Hurricane Hugo passed through Macedonia.  The cooler weather remained, though, and we tried to frown along with the Paraguayans who said, "We've never had weather so cold for Christmas," even though inside we were grinning from ear to ear and thanking God for one more blessing this year.

SIMs in the City

For the past three days, we've been participating in a training seminar hosted by SIM (Serving in Missions), that dealt with effectively communicating the gospel to this culture.  We learned all about the differences in societies that are literate and those that are oral, and about the differences in field-dependent and field-independent learners.  What's all that mean?

It means that if I come into Paraguay thinking I can teach or disciple or preach like I would in the U.S., I'm going to get a lot of blank stares and not much retention.  Imagine taking a class of kindergartners and explaining the planets to them using a power point presentation full of graphs showing the distances from the sun, their sizes, what composes their atmospheres, etc.  And don't forget to provide them with a piece of paper and a pencil so they can take notes and create an outline of your lecture, right?

Okay, now picture someone telling the story of a man who travels to all the planets, telling of his adventures.  Along the way, the little kids learn about the same things the power point was showing, but they learn through the story.  And they can retell that story to someone else, the next time they hear a conversation where someone is wondering how big Mars is.

That example is a bit of a stretch, but the thing is that oral, story-telling cultures don't learn and process information in the same way that I do.  And being oral doesn't mean these folks are less intelligent, or even that they CAN'T read.  It simply means that they have a different way of learning, and we will have much more success adjusting our methods to theirs, rather than expecting them to learn our ways before they can understand the gospel we're trying to share.  We practiced various ways of memorizing stories from the Bible, telling the stories, training others to tell, and incorporating this into our ministries.  A key component to all this is that the listener can turn around and tell the story to his friends and neighbors, which spreads much more quickly than waiting for ME to get to all those same people.

We also learned about field-dependent learners and field-independent learners, and took a test to determine what each of us is.  I found out that most women are field-dependent, meaning they see the whole--the big picture--but that I am highly field-independent.  I see the little details instead of the whole.  I prefer to have the teacher give me homework, turn me loose, and I'll see her again when I'm all done.  Field-dependent folks prefer instead to work in groups and have lots of input from the teacher, valuing the community effort and knowledge.  Most Paraguayans are field-dependent, which explains why homework doesn't go over well, everyone takes tests with the classmates' input, and they'd much rather do a group project than individual work.  I'm simplifying this so much that I'm not doing it justice, but the summary is that we learned a lot about how to be more effective in ministry.

During this time, Camille and Caroline were babysitting the children of other missionaries.  They had around 15 children ages 6 months to 3rd grade, and put in a whole lot of time playing, cuddling, protecting, running, and rocking.  They had a good (a bit tiring) time and were a blessing to the parents of these cute little people.

Another highlight of the seminar was the fellowship, of course, and being able to sing Christmas carols in English before each session.  This was held in an air-conditioned facility, so it actually felt much more like Christmas than it normally does here.  :)  Good times, good people, good teaching, and we are excited about the impact these few days will make in our work here.

Colonizers and Ambassadors

Today I received one of the biggest compliments I think I've heard since our move to the foreign mission field.  Don't take this as a horn-toot, because the truth is that we fail more times than I can count.  A Paraguayan told me today that the reason he liked to be around us is that we came to Paraguay as ambassadors rather than colonizers.  I had to work hard not to cry, and I silently thanked God because, although we'd not phrased it quite like that, that's been our goal all along.  As I thought more about it, I hoped it had been our goal as Christians in the US, too.

The funny thing is that I know this man hasn't been reading any of the articles and books and discussions we keep up with, which teach the latest missiology theories. He can't know that there is a whole lot of talk about this same thing in mission circles.  About understanding the difference in culture and sin.  About recognizing in different circumstances if it's the person we're ministering to that needs to change, or the missionary.  About determining what's Bible and what's America.  About deciding if what I see as "church" and "Christianity" are the same things as what God sees, as what God looks for.

Lots of folks are talking about this as it applies to short-term mission trips, and how we have to be careful not to do more damage than good.  But when we're living among those we minister to, are we careful about how we treat them?  Are we seeing them as "those poor Paraguayans, lucky them that I came here to right their wrongs and fix these messes they've made?"  Do we automatically see ourselves as superior because "we didn't do it that way in MY country"?

Don't get me wrong--we do recognize that those living without God have something that we can, hopefully, share with them.  And it's normal to notice that having government offices computerized rather than running off stacks of folders and boxes of papers is going to make a difference in efficiency.  But as AMBASSADORS of CHRIST, we're here to show people how they can follow Him in their culture.  If we come to COLONIZE, we think they have to become Americans.  This is something we've had to be very purposeful about, because the automatic reaction is to just go with our own worldview, with what we "know" from our life experiences.

And how does this apply to you missionaries living in the United States?  Yes, I mean YOU!  Well, keep in mind that even though you and Mr. Sinner Neighbor speak the same language and were born within miles of each other, there may still be a big difference in your "culture" and his.  Are you limiting God to only reach those folks who seem to fit into your box?  When Mr. Neighbor begins to follow Christ, can you come beside him to help him determine what areas of his life warrant change and which are part of God's big plan for his life?   Are you able to recognize the specific gifts and talents and personality traits God's gifted him with, and how he can use them for the Kingdom, within his "culture"?  Or do you tell him he has to leave the skate park and his friends, start listening to Southern gospel, put on a tie, and be an usher every Sunday morning, because that's the way you do it?  Okay, okay, maybe that was a little extreme.  I didn't mean to go all Southern gospel on you, but you get the idea!  ;)

No matter where we serve, we have to remember that we are ambassadors for the Kingdom, not colonizers for the religious system we're a part of.  Let God do the colonizing while we work to represent Him in the best way possible, remembering that He is relevant in every culture, and there's not a person alive that doesn't have a yearning to be reconciled to Him.

Praise for YWAM

Ever heard of YWAM (Youth with a Mission)?  Here, they're called JOCUM, and they are pretty much really awesome.  Prep yourself for my mini-infomercial before I tell you what this has to do with our lives.

From their website: Youth With A Mission is an international volunteer movement of Christians from many backgrounds, cultures and Christian traditions, dedicated to serving Jesus throughout the world. Also known as YWAM (pronounced "WHY-wham"), our purpose is simply to know God and to make Him known.


They are involved not only in cross-cultural missions, but in training people for service and sending them back to their local communities to impact their world.  Those who participate in outreaches or what we'd consider "mission trips" have a prerequisite of attending Discipleship Training School, which is--well, I'll let them tell you again in their own www words:  

The Discipleship Training School (DTS) is designed to help you understand God more deeply, live more like Jesus and identify your unique gifts and purpose to use in missions.  DTS is a full-time, residential training course which begins with an 11 or 12 week classroom phase, followed by an 8-12 week outreach time. The DTS emphasizes cross-cultural exposure and global awareness, preparing students to answer the call to "Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations" Matthew 28:19.

So a group of 12 young adults (ages 19-35) finished their DTS at a base in neighboring Brazil, then came to Hogar Ganar for a two-week "put it into practice" trip.  Two of that group are Paraguayans, and the others hail from various locations all over the giant country of Brazil.  The focus of this particular group is ministry through arts, so they used various cool talents for evangelism and discipleship methods.  We got to see juggling, unicycling, dancing, acting, even FIRE-BREATHING!  And we got to see these young folks impact this community big time.

Here are a few shots of our time with our new Brazilian friends.

They made us a traditional Brazilian dinner of feijoada (black beans and rice), followed by homemade avocado ice cream.

One of the dramas that the group taught the kids, about finding our identity in Christ.

Caroline's 13th Birthday

December 1 marked thirteen years since our Little Song of Joy came into this world, although not quite kicking and screaming.  Her birth was a bit eventful, maybe even "emergency"-like, and she's been taking the world by storm since then.  Caroline is always a bit dramatic, always the clown in the room, the life of the party.  She tends to be a little shy on unfamiliar ground, but that doesn't last long before she's taking over. It's exciting to watch God work in her life, and to see her let Him mold her into the young lady He's designed.

We held off on letting Caroline get a facebook account until this birthday, and it's been the highlight of all of 2011.  There's been a countdown in the works of how many days left till she can open her own page.  No, not how many days until she's a teenager, or how many days until she eats American cake and icing (that was MY highlight of the day), but how many days until she can connect via the world's most popular social media outlet.  She was really surprised when we handed her the little package with the necklace we'd made her, and told us she'd thought facebook WAS her gift.  :)  So, yeah, she's on there connecting with old friends, with family back home, and with her buddies from here.  Go look her up if you get the notion.