tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56498716439764000462024-03-19T09:10:46.439-04:00Hagermans on a MISSION!The missionary journey of the Hagerman family in Paraguay, South AmericaChristiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.comBlogger650125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-56941961124553489312016-04-01T12:12:00.001-04:002016-04-01T12:12:26.566-04:00Drawing in the Bible?In case you haven't noticed, I post book reviews at the link in the above menu. This has been a hobby for some time that I really enjoy, as books are sort of important in Casa Hagerman. Today, on the book review blog, I shared about a new way I've found of making my time with the Lord come alive. Rather than make you click over there, I'll make it easy and post it right here. Have a great weekend, friends!<br />
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<b>BOOK DESCRIPTION:</b> <i>The <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Single-Column-Journaling-Bible-Black/dp/1433531917" target="_blank">ESV Journaling Bible</a> provides the perfect way for you to keep a journal of your spiritual life right inside the Bible that you read and study every day. With covers and formats that look like the finest journals, the Journaling Bible features two-inch ruled margins for writing observations, reflections, prayers, praises, and journal entries. This unique Bible makes a great gift and lasting keepsake for anyone who values God's Word.</i><br />
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Features:</i><br />
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<li><i>Cream-colored paper</i></li>
<li><i>2" ruled margins</i></li>
<li><i>Book introductions</i></li>
<li><i>Ribbon marker</i></li>
<li><i>Smyth-sewn binding</i></li>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpBEiJ997ghrzPQhifGmgdhfJ5xQQyLM9MF38_E9vV62aIX_1WRFb80JcFS1nxRmBxH3oM-LaoJ_zNhJNT158v-UcrKvbchrjpslKevGovcOaU975tOWJdQOcxqJSYcmFuNw29wkOkAlIa/s1600/12946807_10153823965069930_1212923156_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpBEiJ997ghrzPQhifGmgdhfJ5xQQyLM9MF38_E9vV62aIX_1WRFb80JcFS1nxRmBxH3oM-LaoJ_zNhJNT158v-UcrKvbchrjpslKevGovcOaU975tOWJdQOcxqJSYcmFuNw29wkOkAlIa/s320/12946807_10153823965069930_1212923156_o.jpg" width="240" /></a>Wanting to enhance my Bible study time and find a creative outlet for expressing what I learn, I got a new Bible. This one has extra space along the outside of each page so that I can take notes or illustrate what I've gleaned from that page. I did lots of research about the different types available and found that I wasn't the only person thinking along these lines.<br />
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There are one-column, two-column, blank pages between the scriptures, leather covers, hardbacks, and the list goes on. The Bibles come in NIV, ESV, NASB, KJV, and NKJV. You can even choose between blank margins, lined margins, and margins that already have some graphics included, which you color in and then add your own personal touches. So many choices!<br />
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Thankfully, artistic Bible journaling is pretty popular right now, so there were tons of places I could lurk before making my choice. I found blogs and Facebook groups, pinterest boards and youtube tutorials. This is great news for a non-artist like me who WANTS to make beautiful things but doesn't quite know how.<br />
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I finally decided on the one-column (meaning there is only one column of scriptures per page) ESV from <a href="https://www.crossway.org/bibles/esv-journaling-biblereg-357-jour/" target="_blank">Crossway</a>, with a solid cover and an elastic band that keeps it closed when not in use--and also flattens the pages I've just drawn on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZK_1G9_33xmaGrK1dWjN9FFQIe07ZnGxT1FDSOZIRjjvm3UT5-TEFRT6nGjKNr2iQ-S_o00fZXXZxQUvosfCA4BiZ5KFf6FBiEfK64XqyeeU-bW62I7xC9Iv8Z19TTtwjQF8bvvpk1DJW/s1600/12919423_10153823965929930_1120549096_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZK_1G9_33xmaGrK1dWjN9FFQIe07ZnGxT1FDSOZIRjjvm3UT5-TEFRT6nGjKNr2iQ-S_o00fZXXZxQUvosfCA4BiZ5KFf6FBiEfK64XqyeeU-bW62I7xC9Iv8Z19TTtwjQF8bvvpk1DJW/s320/12919423_10153823965929930_1120549096_o.jpg" width="240" /></a>There are several theories of how this should be done, but I've found that within the communities of journalers, there is surprisingly little judgement and tons of encouragement. Some choose to only use the margins and never cover the actual scriptures. Others cover portions or all of the scriptures, usually in a background color that enhances the illustrations or words they've chosen to focus on. Still others do their study in the Bible then illustrate in a separate drawing pad. So far, I fall into the first category. I have chosen to highlight or underline the scriptures I'm focusing on but I don't cover them. Those who do, obviously use other Bibles for reading or study, and this artistic version serves as a creative journal only.<br />
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I've been pleasantly surprised at how many options there are for using this Bible. Of course, I can write my notes without fear that the little yellow sticky paper I had available at the time will fall out later. These notes are permanently attached to the page! I can use pens and simply letter a verse that stands out to me. Or I can take a giant leap and draw along the sides, top, and bottom of the page, since there is so much space for expression. I'm careful to date each entry so I can look back and see where I've been on this spiritual journey.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqbiC2mfq_ktlH59qj4H9DbvcuPRq8RiVKow_vJqvaTj_WTHkQQui3s3NV15wM0ZHyLPBuXQ-pRSZ3DXmITdTsgJEsfQuebfGr6lZwPdw4NKqLDCutPiQy6cX_LMLx63pvya6YC1reUJJ/s1600/12941134_10153823887129930_817377171_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwqbiC2mfq_ktlH59qj4H9DbvcuPRq8RiVKow_vJqvaTj_WTHkQQui3s3NV15wM0ZHyLPBuXQ-pRSZ3DXmITdTsgJEsfQuebfGr6lZwPdw4NKqLDCutPiQy6cX_LMLx63pvya6YC1reUJJ/s320/12941134_10153823887129930_817377171_o.jpg" width="240" /></a><br />
Many of the illustrations I've found are shared from people just like me--okay, more artistic versions of me--who choose to make their work available. They are gracious to allow copying, so that's pretty much what I do right now. When a verse stands out to me, I generally have an idea of what it "looks like" artistically, so then I google away until I've found something close. Sometimes I trace it onto my page, and sometimes I just use it as a guide. I'm quite thankful there are so many artists out there who are okay with this.<br />
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Here are a few resources for those who are interested in getting started.<br />
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<a href="https://www.pinterest.com/search/pins/?q=bible%20journaling&rs=typed&0=bible%7Ctyped&1=journaling%7Ctyped" target="_blank">Ideas from Pinterest</a> (You could get lost here, digging through the bazillion boards devoted to bible journaling and #illustratedfaith!)<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/illustrateYOURfaith/" target="_blank"><br />
</a> <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/illustrateYOURfaith/" target="_blank">One of many Facebook groups</a> dedicated to sharing ideas and asking questions<br />
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<a href="https://www.illustratedfaith.com/" target="_blank">Illustrated Faith</a>, an official page with products, message boards, and events<br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://1arthouse.wordpress.com/tag/doodle101/" target="_blank">A series of blog posts about doodling</a>, with daily projects and step-by-step instructions</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/user/mrsrebekahrjones/playlists" target="_blank">A large collection of Youtube videos</a> specific to journaling in your Bible</span><br />
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</span> <span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Happy arting! I'd love to see how you illustrate your Bible in the comments below.</span><br />
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Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-1826659070603586282015-11-03T20:43:00.002-05:002015-11-03T20:43:32.694-05:00Moving Back to the USThere hasn't been a blog post in a while, but we have actually been spending the last few months in the United States, after quite a scare with the health of one of our parents. It turned out to be good timing (if things like this <i>can</i> have good timing), in that the lease on the storefront where we host <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/08/june-and-july-in-whirlwind-post.html" target="_blank">The Bridge</a> and also our apartment were coming up. So two of us left as soon as possible while the other two stayed behind to finish packing our personal stuff and all the contents of The Bridge, move it into a couple different storage facilities (spare rooms at friends' houses), and take the next flight out.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GMuuOATqtMluDSjyvyFED6GQTOtnB2gNwVfTGQ6ke5J4M_gzRgtBA1X2gmZa2pQzgaUhLZGX7dfwIxiIii5gp-50jQaduBHzsxh5v9l9MUAGiUiGe3f-EIqWz6KnPHT_4CJToqvQZ_GG/s1600/IMG_20150609_185746.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_GMuuOATqtMluDSjyvyFED6GQTOtnB2gNwVfTGQ6ke5J4M_gzRgtBA1X2gmZa2pQzgaUhLZGX7dfwIxiIii5gp-50jQaduBHzsxh5v9l9MUAGiUiGe3f-EIqWz6KnPHT_4CJToqvQZ_GG/s400/IMG_20150609_185746.jpg" width="400" /></a>We spent this "furlough" differently than the ones we'd had in the past. Instead of running from church to church several times a week and trying to replenish our stock of socks and underwear and food supplies on the days in between, we actually slowed down and stayed put. We went to one church (except for a few visits when we saw family members in other areas), settled in a bit there, and let the girls get involved in a youth group again. We heard sermons in English and sang songs we'd not heard yet. We went to a prayer retreat and sent the girls to church camp. We caught a couple of family reunions and saw people we usually didn't have time to visit with. We went to homeschool co-op and took SAT and PSAT tests. And we breathed a little.<br />
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Of course, during this time we lived with Ken's parents and got all up in their health situations, happy to be there in person rather than catch the details by phone or email. Ken was able to help his dad out at work, since his health has declined to the point that he's not really able to do it alone anymore. And as it got closer and closer to the time to take that return flight to Paraguay, it became more and more clear that God was moving us back to the United States. </div>
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To be honest, I kinda had that feeling just before we got on the plane in Paraguay. I was standing in the kitchen, and I can't explain it, except that something inside me shifted. I have always had a sort of terror in Paraguay whenever anything big goes wrong, that <i>this</i> would be the thing that sent us back to the US. <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.ca/2011/02/details-details-details.html" target="_blank">My accident</a>, <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2010/12/update-on-day-4-of-surgery.html" target="_blank">Ken's surgery</a>, <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-few-miracles-in-land-of-surgery.html" target="_blank">any one of my surgeries</a>, you name it. I would get this heart-racing, nerve-killing dread of moving back to the US, like there was just no way our time in Paraguay could be over yet. And when we'd come "home" for furloughs in the past, I was fairly miserable. I spent the two months pining for Paraguay--the people, the ministry, the life there. I endured the furlough visits as part of what had to be done, but there was this pulling in my heart to get back to Paraguay ASAP.</div>
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Not this time.</div>
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That feeling in my kitchen was like a little snap, and then I just knew that something felt different, that there was no more dread and that could only mean one thing--God was preparing me for a change.</div>
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So I had an open mind but didn't really say anything for a billion reasons. Number one was that it wasn't something we were even talking about in our immediate family yet. Something we'd not considered at that point. The last thing we needed was to bring in a bunch of voices before we'd heard God's clearly enough to discern it. I also wanted to be sensitive to other people's feelings, and until I was sure, it didn't seem fair to mention it to extended family or friends as a possibility, just to say, "Well, sorry we got your hopes up, but we were just feeling things out and we were mistaken." Kinda cruel, especially to the grandparents. And, well, just like in the call to move to Paraguay, I wanted mu husband to hear it from God before he heard it from me. And he did.</div>
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We questioned Him. "Are you sure, God? This is a great time in the ministry! We worked for so many years to get The Bridge off the ground and funded, and now that it's running so well and has a great community built up, NOW?!" </div>
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We questioned us. "Are we being fair? Are we considering all sides of this? Are we reading into every little thing and mistaking it for a sign from God?"<br />
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We questioned our mentors. "Does this make any sense to you? Why would God do this NOW?!"</div>
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Despite our reluctance, God got right to work confirming and reconfirming His will to the point that we could no longer deny that this was definitely what we should do.<br />
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We made the decision to hold off on a public announcement until we were able to go back to Paraguay and talk to the core group of The Bridge in person, explaining what's happening. Ken and Camille left last week to do just that.<br />
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They are there now, in Encarnacion, sorting through seven years worth of life in Paraguay, loving on our wonderful family protector (<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/search?q=niko" target="_blank">our dog, Niko</a>) one last time, deciding what we will be able to fit into the suitcases they'll bring back, what can be sold, what will be given away. They are talking to people we've worked with in ministry and finding out what we can put in the hands of those continuing the work there, and saying goodbyes on behalf of our whole family to those who have become like family to us. They hope to be finished in the next couple of weeks and get back here, where we will begin the transition to American life.<br />
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We will live where we did before our move to Paraguay, in the upstate of South Carolina. There is much to do now, much that has changed. God has given us that peace that passes all understanding, in knowing that we are following His will, but there are still things that are, well, just difficult. Please pray for us as we make this move and adjust to a whole different sort of life. We're starting fresh, so Camille will be deciding where to go to college, Ken will be looking for a job that still allows him time to work with his dad, and Caroline and I will be finishing up her last years of high school. And we will be open to visiting churches that are interested in hearing what God did in the last few years in Paraguay--how he used some very ordinary people to carry out His extraordinary plan.<br />
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Thanks for following us on this journey the last seven years. </div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-34777227856466471182015-03-04T14:06:00.002-05:002015-03-05T02:09:57.512-05:00A Love Story Comes Full CircleLast night I had the great honor of being part of a beautiful ceremony, one that marked new beginnings and testified of healing and the power of love. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6BvzV7HZ2hNlmfDQSJb0xztWSR8eUnWc5C-ayvGZlhM4nROuqjEiau0u77yuctOOdAUFT_KutK9eif5E7sI-k6Vwpmup4KKRCNCGNGCRtrBC4t31PNJISvh1w90yeYGPshIsRLup7rYw/s1600/1454641_929662737077836_7817090022463893534_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB6BvzV7HZ2hNlmfDQSJb0xztWSR8eUnWc5C-ayvGZlhM4nROuqjEiau0u77yuctOOdAUFT_KutK9eif5E7sI-k6Vwpmup4KKRCNCGNGCRtrBC4t31PNJISvh1w90yeYGPshIsRLup7rYw/s1600/1454641_929662737077836_7817090022463893534_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Fatima Garcia</td></tr>
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A few years ago, I told you of my friend and fellow missionary, Julie Kurrle, who, along with her son, <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2012/04/tribute-to-fallen-hero.html" target="_blank">went to be with the Lord in a tragic car accident</a>. Her husband and the sweet little toddler they were in the last stages of adopting survived, and many of you have asked me over the years how they're doing. I want to share some of their story with you now, with his permission.</div>
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When I first "met" Julie, it was through the internet, and we communicated back and forth about what I should expect when our family made the move to Paraguay. She was a source of inspiration and encouragement, and when our families finally met, it was quite a happy day. She became one of those go-to friends who just "got it" and was easy to talk to, a joy to listen to. A few years later, our ministry circumstances changed and we realized we'd be living just a few miles from the Kurrles, I was so excited about the possibilities of seeing them much more often. The fatal accident happened just before we moved, so that never became a reality.</div>
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Norberto and little Anahi suffered minor physical injuries and were able to focus more on <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2012/04/memorial-service-for-timmy-and-julie.html" target="_blank">recovering emotionally</a>, as impossible as that seemed at the time. He was transparent about that recovery, sharing on Julie's blog and on facebook about the stages of grief he was working through, about how they were surviving, about what God was doing in his heart and in their lives through the months and years that followed. It was an honest, sometimes brutally painful process, and I'm sure that his willingness to share about it helped many people.</div>
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We saw them from time to time, and I was always humbled by how much Norberto was leaning into God. How much he focused on what this meant for the future and what God wanted from him now. Sure, he had questions and hurts and he didn't shy away from expressing those to God, but he always came back to "God is good, and I trust Him." </div>
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About a year after the accident, I attended a ladies retreat with our local church. It was bittersweet in a way, because I couldn't help but remember that the last retreat I'd attended was with Julie, and how we'd stayed up in the night giggling and telling stories with a few of the other gals. This time, one of my roommates was a lady I'd seen around but not gotten to know yet. Her name was Nancy, and we hit it off right away.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmdhWHe019uTdd-NB6w__8henfaQvH2r4rBsujAa9VPpRe1E0ZWuvG1FrhzDmfQrBrs_RQglabHkuw033vDAVZbIDEEdK5oNb5-wRvon5qVMOqhu52rsUbh0jLwUY8zayuDXAGWL8lIP4/s1600/10955730_864653376931763_504719475997278076_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOmdhWHe019uTdd-NB6w__8henfaQvH2r4rBsujAa9VPpRe1E0ZWuvG1FrhzDmfQrBrs_RQglabHkuw033vDAVZbIDEEdK5oNb5-wRvon5qVMOqhu52rsUbh0jLwUY8zayuDXAGWL8lIP4/s1600/10955730_864653376931763_504719475997278076_n.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a>Nancy was a sweet, kind, reserved sort of person, who laughed at my jokes and seemed to want to goof off, but there was a dark cloud over her. I finally got up my nerve to ask, and she shared how she was raising her two children alone after her husband was killed in a work-related accident not too long ago. I was shocked at how much strength poured out of this tiny, quiet lady. I knew her kids from church, how helpful and kind they were. Her little girl had played the harp beautifully at a recent event, and her early-teen son was a member of the praise team, active in the youth group with my girls. I knew she was one of those moms who's super-devoted to her kids, working hard so that they can be active in their interests and pursue their talents.</div>
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After the conversations turned from tears to smiles and then to laughter, I asked her if she thought she'd ever love again. She had a little spark in her eye when she told me she was beginning to feel like one day that might be possible.</div>
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I guess I don't have to tell you what happened next, for those of you who are acquainted with my big mouth. It went a little something like this: "Nancy, I have this friend... Well, it's still too early for him, but Nancy, he's the perfect family man. He's this and he's that and he's a gentleman and he's devoted and most importantly, he is a solid man of God." After a trillion details about his life, a lightbulb clicked on above her head, and she said, "I think the pastor has told me about the same man!"</div>
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It turns out that he had. Fast forward a few months, and the pastor invited them both to dinner, where they met each other and broke the ice. It wasn't time yet, but Cupid had strung up that arrow and there were sparks in the works.</div>
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A bit later, Norberto decided to take the trip he and Julie had planned for so long, and he traveled with Anahi around the world to meet relatives from afar and visit with their loved ones. It would seem that God worked some major healing in the heart of Norberto during this time, as He was also working in the heart of Nancy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV11wWGEiiDU6jy8lkRrTnSp0dWt8Tb9HG3ySo0bAB8_VQhTIvVGC8_zCqTj4DiW9daBElyirO-3yareGIv3lT_ymVcWxCk2E9arNMYsIrJSGwzvVEKDIHMtqQmpjgZqJmZCCKEyT7t8qy/s1600/10854333_10152863493071668_9131955285946663110_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV11wWGEiiDU6jy8lkRrTnSp0dWt8Tb9HG3ySo0bAB8_VQhTIvVGC8_zCqTj4DiW9daBElyirO-3yareGIv3lT_ymVcWxCk2E9arNMYsIrJSGwzvVEKDIHMtqQmpjgZqJmZCCKEyT7t8qy/s1600/10854333_10152863493071668_9131955285946663110_o.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a>When Norberto and Anahi returned, he went straight to Nancy's house and made it official. He was ready. They took things slowly, working hard to blend their families and making decisions about what would be best for all of them. Nancy's two children--this beautiful, smart little Nicole, and Marcos, who had stepped up to be the man of the house in his dad's absence--got to know Anahi and Norberto as they spent time together at family get-togethers, picnics, church events, and barbecues. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDPEs0DEM2pf-_uBSu32Bz7R9qNEytlzEiSnSoRI7hiHiDzCozKiMjtZhZC5fLsZT5_wNxHs-56dEevIZKXR2p3sQ3ZDGAynR60LyJmJ1vvhYh_11NCtiJHJEeumi5KmMl2fBEe076I5t/s1600/10873575_10152863493881668_6370304366022501754_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDPEs0DEM2pf-_uBSu32Bz7R9qNEytlzEiSnSoRI7hiHiDzCozKiMjtZhZC5fLsZT5_wNxHs-56dEevIZKXR2p3sQ3ZDGAynR60LyJmJ1vvhYh_11NCtiJHJEeumi5KmMl2fBEe076I5t/s1600/10873575_10152863493881668_6370304366022501754_o.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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And then they showed up at The Bridge all together. They were carrying a little note with a ribbon tied through it and I knew what it meant. My friends had set the date and were ready to become one big happy family. </div>
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I have to tell you, when I saw Nancy walk up carrying Anahi in her arms, that baby girl clinging to her and then running off to dance on the sidewalk, I felt a twinge of "This is so not fair." I was so thrilled for both of them to find love again, and especially to find it with each other, but I remembered the messages back and forth with Julie, her frustration about how long the adoption process was taking, how she wanted to finally meet the baby they'd bring home, how she longed to hold her and prayed incessantly for her. And how she never knew that all her prayers were so that another woman would raise her. </div>
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Then I remembered that <i>GOD DID KNOW</i>. </div>
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He wasn't surprised by any of this. He didn't go into shock when the rest of us did. He didn't wonder how things would turn out or try to wrap His head around the why's. He knew. And all those prayers my friend prayed before she ever met Anahi were being answered even in that moment. I'm positive that if it were possible that Julie were looking down at that moment, she would have been overjoyed that Nancy was there, loving her baby, loving Norberto, making their home complete again and carrying on in the ministry. I'm positive. How could I not be overjoyed, too?<br />
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I learned that these two, apart from what they'd suffered and their love for God, have a lot in common. They grew up in two different towns, just a few miles apart. Those towns are basically colonies of immigrants from populations that are not native to Paraguay, with their own distinct personalities and cultures. Both Nancy and Norberto have a handful of brothers and sisters, and both sets of families get together to sing (which we witnessed last night). Both are pastors' kids, and the list goes on of how evident God's hand in their lives was, weaving their stories together into a perfect design.</div>
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So last night, I watched these beautiful people, full of the love of the Lord and love for each other, honor their pasts as they looked forward to the future, promising to be together the rest of their lives before God and their children and their friends and relatives. Norberto was escorted in by the two daughters who looked like princesses in their royal blue gowns. A few minutes later, Nancy's proud son walked her to Norberto's side. Siblings of the bride and groom sang. Norberto's brother directed the event and Nancy's pastor, who is also a childhood friend of Norberto's, spoke about God's view of love. A photo show detailed the story and the people who had led to that moment. The bride and groom recited their original vows then repeated after the pastor as they placed on each others' fingers the rings brought forward by Anahi. It was a beautiful time of healing for so many people on both sides of the equation, a night full of tears, but this time, those that were of sadness were quickly replaced by joy. Overwhelming joy.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlqaBCZxvQ6T0QLQ7zi9y45z0KedvT5uDKg-8YcVKanyvQldvNcrt_gq5NAE48PDt34EyAOuvah0EXR-o5DgpuHGFxbrFmdssCLqe3FhLKdJEVz9xE6b1Bt4DE_saOcdBmVe_VSBRAnL1/s1600/11034217_943354315709029_2228633404980734553_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBlqaBCZxvQ6T0QLQ7zi9y45z0KedvT5uDKg-8YcVKanyvQldvNcrt_gq5NAE48PDt34EyAOuvah0EXR-o5DgpuHGFxbrFmdssCLqe3FhLKdJEVz9xE6b1Bt4DE_saOcdBmVe_VSBRAnL1/s1600/11034217_943354315709029_2228633404980734553_n.jpg" height="360" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo by Rocio Ginard</td></tr>
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Congratulations, Norberto and Nancy! May God continue to use you to shine His light all over the world, and may that light warm your hearts and home as you live happily ever after.</div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-17046075386655637282015-02-22T23:45:00.000-05:002015-02-22T23:45:00.235-05:00Beauty and the Book<div style="text-align: left;">
We have found <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a> to be the perfect spot for small get-togethers with a purpose. </div>
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On Valentines Day, the teen girls of the Sweet Tea mentoring group gathered again to finish our study on <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/redefining-beauty/" target="_blank">Redefining Beauty</a> according to God's standard. These precious gals listened, took notes, asked questions, and went home with some print-outs to hang near their mirrors. They even graciously sat through all my mistakes in Spanish. Throughout the days that followed, I enjoyed the conversations that opened up as a result of what we all learned.<br />
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One week later, we held our first book club, all in English! A dozen or so of us spent the past week reading <a href="http://conversantfaith.com/2014/03/17/the-giver-a-christian-interpretation/" target="_blank">The Giver</a>, highlighting passages that stood out to us and even creating art inspired by what we'd read. Then we met on Saturday to dig a bit deeper, with fun activities, lively discussions, and thought-provoking discussion questions. We were inspired by the main character, who, once he understood the difference between life and <i>abundant </i>life, wasn't content to settle for less and wanted others to share in what he'd discovered. I think we lit a flame under this group, which will continue to meet every other week. We decided to watch it with those who had come trickling into <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a> as we were wrapping up our discussion.<br />
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" 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Some of the things we're trying out now are a little out of our comfort zones, new things that come to us as vague ideas and get fleshed out through a lot of prayer and study and advice from the been-there-done-that crowd. We're so thankful to finally have the facility where we can host these events, building relationship with these young people and helping them on their journey.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-86243405532358174112015-02-16T05:00:00.000-05:002015-02-16T05:00:06.021-05:00To Camp or Not to Camp?When I first began teaching the 25 students of a special English language/culture program, they told me excitedly that one day we'd go to camp. There were stories of speaking English only for days at a time, and nervous giggles about how they'd ever be able to do that. Fast forward to almost two years later and it's time for that very camp.<br />
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We loaded up on a bus--all of them plus me, the one "adult" of the crowd--to make a six-hour trip to the rustic campground.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were a few minutes into our trip at this point.</td></tr>
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Nestled in giant trees of mangoes, bananas, and just about whatever other tropical fruit you can imagine, this place was a site for sore eyes after all that bus time. I gave them a big pep talk before we piled out to drop off our bags and find the rest of the 90 students who'd come from three other locations across the country. My teens were nervous about how well they'd be able to understand and speak with their peers, so it took a little shoving to get them off the bus and down the path into the jungle.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, there I am in the center of the back row.</td></tr>
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After lunch, a welcome speech, and an icebreaker, we split into five groups. Luckily, my group stayed in the dining hall for what was to be the first of a three-day series of classes put on by peace corps volunteers. Did I mention that it was incredibly hot? Well over 100 degrees with enough humidity to make a cactus sweat. I fanned myself with my schedule and tried to keep my water bottle full.<br />
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With a few minutes left in that first class, a cool breeze blew through. Uh-oh. I knew what that meant. I jumped up to close a few doors and check to see where all the electronic equipment was plugged in. Within a few minutes, we were in the full-fledged fury of a serious storm. The lights went out, I unplugged everything I could find, and the kids started gathering the stuff that the wind was blowing around the dining hall. Despite the rain blowing in, no one could bear to close the windows on the much-needed, refreshing wind.<br />
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We watched as that wind got stronger and stronger over the next few minutes, causing the huge mango tree outside the door to bend its biggest branches far enough to touch the ground way beneath them. After a few times, it finally snapped. And we heard other snaps, only able to imagine what they might be because the rain was too strong to see far off. <br />
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It turned out that we were in the safest spot of all the campers. Others were in much smaller buildings, but thankfully, no one was in the cabins, because some of those were hit by the falling trees and lost parts of their roofs. We didn't hear these stories until hours later, when the others made their way to the safety of the dining hall.<br />
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By the time the storm slacked off, it was getting too dark to do much. So we went in small groups back down the little paths now littered with the fallen trees, assessing the damage and getting our stuff out of the cabins. Later that night I accompanied one student and a couple other adults into town for a trip to the pharmacy, but only after we waited at a few places for men with chainsaws to make a way for us to pass. At some spots, we had to turn around and find a new way because the trees were just too massive. Seeing how much damage had been done all around, I was very grateful that God protected all of us and that the storm came when it did, rather than an hour later when we would have all been out in the open on the soccer field, unprotected and far from the dining hall.<br />
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We all slept in that dining hall that night, and after calling parents and buses the next morning, we packed up to head home. Without water and electricity and with the threat of more storms later that day, it was too risky to stay. The change in plans was disappointing, but we still had the opportunity during the 24 hours of the camp to meet new people and make unforgettable memories in crazy circumstances. And we got in a lot of quality time together on the 12 hours of the round-trip on the bus.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-35213934157065919802015-02-09T15:43:00.000-05:002015-02-12T17:06:41.012-05:00A Few Photos of the Fun We HaveThe last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of extra activities and travels, those things that usually pop up from time to time but happened to all come at once this month. Right in the middle of that was a trip to Asuncion related to my teaching job.<br />
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I love teaching English every weekend to a group of around 25 teens who won scholarships from the US Embassy to attend. As part of their sponsorship, they also learn cultural and historical facts about our country, participating in some of our holidays throughout the year. (One of their favorites so far was the Thanksgiving Feast a few months back.)<br />
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Last week, I went to the capital for a conference hosted by the institute where our class takes place. They do these every few months, and it's a great opportunity to get to know the other teachers better while I hone my skills as an educator. That made it worth me getting up before the sun to catch the bus with my coworkers and spend half the day traveling to the conference. ;)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That's me sitting on the front row on the left corner.</td></tr>
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As soon as I got back, it was time to plan for a few special events in <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a>. Friday afternoon, 25 of the peace corps volunteers who work in this area of the country held their monthly meeting at our youth cafe. We have tons of respect for these young adults who come here for 2 1/2 years as part of making the world a better place and exchanging culture, so we were thrilled to meet them and share stories.<br />
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The next day, we hosted Another World 2.0, an event for youth that involved trivia, music, tournaments, and just all-around good times. The <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2015/01/cosplay-anyone.html" target="_blank">first of these events</a> back in December gave us the opportunity to make a lot of new friends who have been hanging out at <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a> ever since, and this time we also had a full house.<br />
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Needless to say, we were a little zonked by the time the alarm clock went off for church the next morning, but it was a great week full of learning with the added bonus of meeting new people.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-51713585958377410822015-01-23T12:47:00.000-05:002015-01-23T12:47:53.957-05:00Empty Nest or Full House?My baby, the one who was born just a few short days ago, is 18 today. How did that happen? She came out already grown, knowing way too much about what was going on around her and making sure she let us know that she knew. She could talk long before she could walk, so she set about using her vocal leadership skills to get her almost-twin Bryan, born 6 weeks after her and already walking, to go retrieve toys and her pacifier. She hasn't stopped honing this skill since.<br />
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This week is also the last week of her homeschooling career, so despite that we don't have any sort of co-op to join with for a graduation ceremony, her high school days end the same day she becomes a legal adult...mayor de edad in Spanish.<br />
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These past two years have been a big time of preparation for the next step, something that wasn't quite decided until very recently. After a lot of talking, praying, and consulting, several visits to colleges in the US, a few to colleges here, and still more talking and praying, she has decided that she will stay here in Paraguay with us.<br />
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I'd always imagined her flying away to university life the instant she finished high school, with me depending on skype and her grandparents and a lot of prayer. But as we went over the options she could choose from, she talked a lot about a gap year, that time after high school when some young adults (did I just use that word to describe my BABY?!?!) step away from formal education and explore a bit, looking into things that interest them but maybe they didn't have time to pursue while studying. The goal is to find out what it is in life that makes you passionate, what fulfills you and makes you feel you were born to do this. Of course, many folks don't find that out until way down the road, but if it's possible to learn this BEFORE investing years of your life into studying for a degree, that's a plus. <br />
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So she will take some classes, volunteer a bit, carry out some internships--we're not exactly sure WHAT this time will look like. We trust the Lord to open and close doors for her and speak to her heart while she is seeking Him and His will.<br />
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I'm excited for her, I'm nervous for her, I'm nervous for me. I was just talking to another parent-of-teens this week about mommy guilt, and for missionaries, I think it's easy to throw on a pile of it.<br />
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<i>Are my kids going to be permanently damaged for this? Have I destroyed their chances for ___? How will they ever feel at home? Will they marry here or there and will that make them happy or leave them feeling like they're missing something? Should we have ___? Why did we ___?</i> </blockquote>
In her wisdom, her reply to me was, "If it wasn't the mission field, it'd be something else. You're just able to put a name on it more easily than some." I'll try to remember that. <br />
It seems that as parents, we're aware all along that we do things wrong, that we're human and we mess up this mothering thing, that we have regrets. The difference when they're younger is that we're able to say, "Well, she has __ more years at home, so I'll make up for it in that time." Then comes that big birthday, that big graduation, and we are suddenly aware that the clock is up.<br />
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So I consciously decide today, like so many days before, to place her back in the hands of the One who loaned her to me, while I enjoy the extra bonus of getting more time with her than I'd expected. :)<br />
<br />Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-37011912886897122522015-01-19T04:41:00.000-05:002015-01-19T04:41:00.551-05:00Chicks of The Bridge // Chicas de The BridgeMentoring teen girls is close to my heart. It's something I've tried to be actively involved in no matter where we lived, and having these little get-togethers we affectionately refer to as Princess Club is part of that. <br />
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I have been working this past year with the team at <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/" target="_blank">more to be</a>--the ministry founded by <a href="http://www.elisapulliam.com/" target="_blank">Elisa Pulliam</a> dedicated to "equipping moms, engaging teens, and encouraging mentors." They offer <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/downloads/" target="_blank">lots of studies, worksheets, and printables</a> that I've been working my way through translating, so naturally, I wanted to try them out on the gals in my little corner of the globe!</div>
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This past Saturday, we hosted the first of such meetings that's been held at <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a>. It was an odd time of day--lunch-time on a weekend--but since many of the girls I invited are part of my English class that ends at that time, we thought we'd give it a shot. We named it Sweet Tea and sent out cute little invitations with pretty colors and a tea cup with steam coming out the top of it, although the heat here meant we'd actually be drinking the iced version in plastic cups.</div>
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The young ladies snacked on little sandwiches, sliced veggies with ranch dip, and chocolate chip cookies, trying to decide if they liked our version of southern party foods, while we watched a few videos and looked at photos about what different cultures find beautiful. Then we talked about what really makes a girl beautiful, and the problem with looking for affirmation in the wrong places. They filled in the blanks and commented every now and then as we worked our way through the study.</div>
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At the end, I told them that the only place to fully understand their real beauty and worth was through an intimate relationship with God, giving each of them a little card with the graphic below, except in Spanish. I also explained that I wasn't there to pressure them into anything (they get enough of that already), but that I trusted that God was already calling to them, whispering to their hearts in that special way that means He loves you and wants you to love Him back. <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/redefining-beauty/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://www.moretobe.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/beauty_slogan_iam_him.png" height="500" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'll be honest. We've been here a long time now. We've been planting seeds and loving kids and investing in their lives not only spiritually, but holistically as well. We don't always see the fruit of that. While I know very well that God is at work behind the scenes, I don't always get to<i> see</i> His hand in motion or see things come full circle, and I'm okay with that, really. I know enough to know that He's always, always drawing people to Him. But I have been hoping that God would let me experience that, praying that He'd let me be part of the harvest in another area than the seed-planting, that He encourage me in this sorta dry time to know that our investments aren't in vain.</div>
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A couple days later, I got a text from a girl I only recently know. She joined my English class a couple weeks ago and surprised me by showing up at the girls' meeting. She asked me a few class-related questions then got right to it--She was sure that the words I said at Sweet Tea were just for her, and she wanted to know how to get right with God. We had a beautiful conversation that ended in her reconciling with the Lord. She's a born leader, one of those people who goes her own way and has no desire to follow the crowd. I'm looking forward to how God will use her personality as she grows in Him. Please pray for her and for the other young ladies who are learning what they mean to God and what He wants to mean to them.</div>
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<i>**Find this study and many free, downloadable resources, by <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/redefining-beauty/" target="_blank">clicking here</a>.</i></div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-88294097396234125472015-01-13T15:03:00.001-05:002015-01-13T15:03:08.995-05:00Cosplay, Anyone?Spiderman, Super Mario, Darth Vader,Wolverine, Dr. Who, Jack Sparrow, and a few ninja guys. And me. I sure didn't expect to find what I did when I agreed to go at the last minute to this cosplay event. <br />
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<i><b>cosplay</b> (costume + play) -- dressing up like a specific character and role playing a short skit or dance related to that character; most commonly selected from pop culture personalities, anime, comic books, cartoons, movies, video games, or television.</i></blockquote>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, this isn't REALLY the mythbusters guy, but<br />
pretty close, huh? For the record, I went dressed as<br />
Arrow, the greenish arrow-wielding hero of comics<br />
and a new TV series, but I couldn't handle the <br />
over-100 and high-humidity temperatures, <br />
so no more costume. </td></tr>
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I didn't expect to meet so many young people who are involved in this subculture, to have so many opportunities to explain why we live in Paraguay, and to invite all these new friends to The Bridge. I expected a few people to show up on this terribly hot day in the middle of summer, at the event being hosted a few blocks from our apartment. Walking in the door, I realized I'd grossly underestimated how many people love this hobby. I'm betting you already know folks who do it, they just haven't told you yet. ;)<br />
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At this particular event, not everyone came dressed up. Many were curious fans or have some sort of business connected to these characters. There were booths for karaoke, for playing video game tournaments, for admiring or buying handmade statues of the characters or their props (think Thor's hammer), for picking up a sticker or t-shirt of your favorite cartoon show. And then in the evening, various cosplayers took to the stage for role playing. Some acted out a scene from a show or movie, some sang a song, and some just jumped around on stage fighting "bad guys". The point is for these "cosplayers" to make a costume at home from basic things you'd find around the house. A 2-liter bottle spray-painted and decorated to look like an oxygen tank is valued much more than a store-bought prop. So these kids got to really show off their creativity, not only in fabricating their outfits, but in staging a skit to demonstrate who they were representing.<br />
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Now those of you who know me know that I'm not very creative, but I greatly value creativity. I think it's one of those things we've somehow stifled over the years in the Christian community, but I fully support redeeming the arts and chipping away at the misconception that only those who draw pictures of Jesus on the cross or coming back in the clouds are valid artists. I don't go with the thought that only those who sing praise and worship are using their talents for the Lord, and all others are wasting what they've been given. I think God has given us some crazy-cool abilities and we haven't begun to tap into all the ways they can bring Him glory.<br />
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So, yeah, off my soapbox and back to my story. One of the folks I met is a young man who just opened a comics store here in town. Of course, I invited him to visit us, and he showed up a few days later. We ended up joining forces with him to have a friendly trivia day at <a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" target="_blank">The Bridge</a>. The pictures below give you some idea of the fun we had that day, when 50 teens and young adults showed up, many of them for the first time. <br />
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trivia contest with cool prizes</div>
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new friends who learned what The Bridge is all about</div>
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a little time in between games for some music by one of our "regulars" at The Bridge, Jake</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">camp and youth-group fave "Clang That Thang"</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Since the event, we've gained a whole new group of young people that come quite regularly to </span><a href="http://www.thebridgepy.com/" style="text-align: start;" target="_blank">The Bridge</a><span style="text-align: start;">. These are exactly the kids we've been looking for and feeling called towards. They don't fit into the little boxes society tries to put them in, have more questions than answers, and don't have it totally together yet--what a privilege to get to be part of their lives at this stage of their "figuring it out," all because of the fun of cosplay. </span></div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-79928198951221848032015-01-02T22:33:00.000-05:002016-02-26T19:40:04.553-05:002014 Holidays in Paraguay<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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After a lot of deliberation, we decided to take our mid-sized fake Christmas tree down to The Bridge and let it stand in the front window. It was fun to decorate it and explain our tradition to folks coming in, and that way the lights weren't making our house even hotter. Every evening, a young couple brought their baby girl by to stand outside and watch the twinkly lights. We invited them in but they said she was in that grumpy part of day and the lights were the only thing that seemed to calm her down. Glad we could help. </div>
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We decorated a small white one we found at a little tienda on the corner for our house, leaving out the lights altogether. I figured that if it's sparkly white, who'd see the lights anyway, right? </div>
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We had a beautiful rainstorm the week of Christmas, bringing temperatures down into the tolerable range in the evenings. When Christmas Eve rolled around, we went to the home of one of my English students, Jake. His parents are sweet folks who live a little bit out of town, in what Jake calls the jungle. I guess it technically is, but after hanging in the Amazon, I don't use that word lightly. ;)</div>
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Jake's sister was visiting from Buenos Aires, Argentina, which brought our total to 8 people all around the midnight table under a huge mango tree, with plates full of grilled chicken and beef with brick-oven-baked cornbread and bowls of fresh fruit salad. Camille contributed a pan of peach cobbler just like Mother used to make. I think it was a hit because the man of the house asked for the recipe four or five times before the night was up.</div>
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At midnight, fireworks went off all around and Jake lit a few Roman candles. We all sat around chatting in the cool breezes for a bit longer before heading home to wait on Santa Claus. And then we four Hagermans got up the next morning to celebrate Christmas Day, knowing that we were some of the only people in the city awake. A little after lunchtime we heard the stirrings of our neighbors and a few cars were seen on the streets, but mostly, Paraguayans spend the 25th sleeping off the celebrations of the night before. </div>
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For New Years, our nearby fellow missionary friends, along with our friend Walter. We had the meal a little earlier this time--around 9 PM--then waited for the rain to slack off enough to go to the river. It seems everyone for miles and miles around was there, waiting for the fireworks that were sure to happen at midnight. As it turned out, the rain put a damper on the festivities, and the only fireworks were those that people had brought themselves or restaurants nearby did. We made our way out of there pretty quickly because small children pointing Roman candles and bottle rockets into the crowds just didn't sit very well with us, and the littlest ones didn't care for how loud the explosions were. I heard, "Are you sure they won't reach us?" more than once, and I couldn't in good conscience say that I was. Sitting inside their car, however, we had a lovely view of the ones that made it high enough in the sky to show their colors. </div>
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The next morning, I awoke to the smell of something quite heavenly. Our friend (a mom extraordinaire) was baking doughnuts. You are aware that we don't have doughnuts here, right? I have handled giving up Wal-Mart much better than giving up Krispy Kreme these last years, so to say that I was excited wouldn't do justice to how I felt when I smelled what was coming out of the oven. What a way to start the New Year, right? </div>
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Hope you all had a great season of sharing and celebrating, too!</div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-55340446473056263412014-10-25T05:00:00.000-04:002014-10-25T05:00:04.083-04:00Visitors from a Foreign LandOkay, technically, from here, the United States <i>is</i> a foreign land. And a few family members from the states visited us for about a week, so we took advantage of that time to show off a bit of the country we've come to love. Unfortunately, our car is <i>STILL</i> in the shop, so we bused it and walked it and taxied it all over the place. <br />
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<span style="text-align: right;">We saw the zoo that cares for animals indigenous to this area, most of them quite different from what you'd see in good ole' South Carolina. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: right;">Of course, we visited the Jesuit Ruins, taking in the huge buildings that have survived centuries, silent witnesses to the slaughter of the native people who sought refuge in those walls.</span></div>
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We visited the school where I taught English this past year, and the pastor gave us a walk-through of the classrooms, where the children sang "Read Your Bible, Pray Every Day" and then they grew, grew, grew. We saw land that had been purchased to build a new classroom to satisfy government requirements, and office space that will serve the school and the small church that is adjacent to one classroom. We were privileged to pray over this land, the school, the children, and the community before leaving.<br />
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We returned to that school a few days later, as I was asked to judge a cultural festival. Each grade represented a certain country, dressed in typical clothes, performed a song and dance, and sold food at elaborate stands they'd built to showcase their chosen country. It was impressive! The best part was that, as judge, each stand provided me with a sort of sampler platter, so that I could also give appropriate points for the dishes they'd prepared. I loved that job!<br />
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Several church groups have hosted events recently, including a concert for youth to welcome spring and a city-wide rally to pray for the area and urge politicians and families to make good choices. During the city rally, a huge Paraguayan flag was passed over the heads of the crowd while local pastors took turns praying for the city, county and nation. <br />
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Camille was asked to be the official photographer for several of these events, and she's sharpening her camera skills more and more each week. I'll leave you with a picture she recently took of the sunset over the river that runs alongside Encarnación, separating us from Argentina.<br />
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<br />Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-4588401343994258302014-09-08T14:29:00.000-04:002014-09-08T15:31:53.541-04:00Yes, We Move About Once a Year...<br />
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Since we moved to <i>downtown</i> Encarnación (as opposed to a mile or so up the road), we have lived in a tiny apartment in a medium-sized building. It afforded us an eency weency balcony, where we strung a couple of ropes and hung about 3/4 a load of clothes. The rest were hung around the house. It felt a little dungeon-like, with only three windows in the whole place, something that also led to tons of black mold growing in the walls, on the furniture, on the books, on the clothes--well, you get it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinE3xB7QJP_cVb41eG-mxmcByetEisj88nXKPU6nmqrbgI-R-jOCm4tzZRvx_AN5y50hc4I0HoLF8cup04zvvVtaTG3MxtoM2JnpKOR9B8OV1xXIzX5ua7W2Xf-xA934DfNIvDIsxzRyki/s1600/96ef8d1199194a408ea568d4de4f7bbb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="http://walkingwonder.blogspot.com/2013/11/cramped-apartments.html" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinE3xB7QJP_cVb41eG-mxmcByetEisj88nXKPU6nmqrbgI-R-jOCm4tzZRvx_AN5y50hc4I0HoLF8cup04zvvVtaTG3MxtoM2JnpKOR9B8OV1xXIzX5ua7W2Xf-xA934DfNIvDIsxzRyki/s400/96ef8d1199194a408ea568d4de4f7bbb.jpg" height="240" title="http://walkingwonder.blogspot.com/2013/11/cramped-apartments.html" width="400" /></a>We had a miniature kitchen, big enough to turn around in but not much else. We squeezed a table for four in the living room area, just beside the love seat that was the official school room. The girls shared a bedroom that might be mistaken as a walk-in closet in some of America's finest mobile homes. But we could walk to English class and The Bridge, as well as the grocery store, the hardware store, the bakery, and the meat store, so we were thrilled to cut back on gas costs and live so close to everything--especially considering how many months of the past year our car spent in the mechanic's shop.<br />
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Day-to-day operations of Casa Hagerman weren't too smooth, though. Everyday at homeschool time, the apartment had to be rearranged to make room to sit and put books out. Then when I needed to cook for The Bridge (generally an hour or so after school started), more shuffling to access the kitchen and, hopefully, counter space. You'd laugh if you could see all the times I did it without a counter, holding the mixing bowl in one hand while I measured ingredients and poured with the other.<br />
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And might I remind you that the girls are teenagers now. Yep, at 15 and 17, they have their own collections of beauty supplies, favorite clothes, and various souvenirs they've held onto through the moves. Did I mention that they are polar opposites in terms of music taste, organization, and sleep schedules? You can only imagine the stress that cramming these two and all their junk in that glorified closet every day and night caused. I won't even tell you how crazy it got when we'd entertain guests.<br />
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Knowing that our rental contract on the mini apartment was due to expire, we began praying for more space months ago. We scoured the internet advertisements, the realty listings, and the streets. It seems that this city is on a bubble (is that how'd they say that in English?) right now, due to the new river beach and increases in summer tourism. So prices are at a premium, and those people with 3-bedroom apartments know they are sitting on a gold mine. There were comments floating around that we'd never find what we were asking for in the price range we had to work with, but we just kept praying.<br />
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I'm thrilled to report to you that one week ago, we moved into what I can only describe as a house on the second floor. It's a huge apartment above the home of a little grandma, so we have much more privacy. It has two small balconies on the street front, plus a huge back balcony out back with a roof and enough room to hang several loads of clothes and still sit out there to enjoy the fresh air. <br />
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Each girl has her own bedroom, and each bedroom is twice the size of the one they were sharing. The kitchen is spacious, and I've already found places for the appliances and ingredients we use for The Bridge, as well as counter space to make it all happen. A wide hallway means we can take the paperwork, books, and suitcases out of our bedroom, and windows on every side make the place so bright that we hardly use the lights during the day. <br />
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Once we get our car back from the mechanic (please continue praying for that--it doesn't seem it will be anytime soon), it will have a gated parking area. We are sharing one bathroom but it is big enough to have an area for a shower, rather than the whole bathroom BEING the shower, as in the past. And we're still close to everything. In fact, we are one block closer to English classes and The Bridge, and only one block away now from two different grocery stores.<br />
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So as I type this, everyone is in a different spot working, and the dog is trying out all the different spots he can flop around. And now when I say, "Come see us!" I'm much more excited about that possibility, knowing we have space for you. <br />
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I know God didn't promise us a huge house. I know there are missionaries living in huts or worse. I know we could have survived in that mini-apartment. But He answered this prayer and found us a place that fit ALL we'd asked Him for, and I'm so thankful for what that means to my family. I sent out a prayer request when we first found the place and were negotiating with the owner, who wasn't too thrilled that we have a big dog, and many of you were sweet to respond that you were praying. THANK YOU! Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-27074870673595300202014-08-07T15:03:00.000-04:002014-08-07T15:20:02.058-04:00June and July in a Whirlwind PostGot your seat belt buckled? Let's just say that the last couple months have been crazy, and I haven't exactly kept up with this blog. So lemme fill you in as quickly and succinctly as possible.<br />
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A THIEF ARRIVED. Someone broke into the garage of our apartment building and somehow got our hood opened (no signs of entry, all still locked when we got down there). When we turned the key the next morning, alas, nothing. No battery. We decided it was time to give in and get the chirpy alarm thing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheOsv-0wf0gFoesrc_qcxtsxEYvFM1yqtT1D75K0P_5YuT4owhfHnPjF1jGY6kUXN0XcJkiV9DIu4BUzMdk4MiHsw-UMSOs_kASW651KV4j2VDP9temlDezfjrwCAuTwNjV_sDgGaJbMfA/s1600/truck+on+wrecker.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheOsv-0wf0gFoesrc_qcxtsxEYvFM1yqtT1D75K0P_5YuT4owhfHnPjF1jGY6kUXN0XcJkiV9DIu4BUzMdk4MiHsw-UMSOs_kASW651KV4j2VDP9temlDezfjrwCAuTwNjV_sDgGaJbMfA/s1600/truck+on+wrecker.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2h4aVuXPjPiUnrnNtX85D3_ZwVF8cwJ6bCbZkL9ehGE2xl01G0Hersp3drHlh1cIPpjfuOLGaCoJ-h-z4mumZQ6sIeChBtAAiEOP1yfX0nLERslUqJ2w4hCXdtbDXSKvkBEQQMSZmTz_e/s1600/10386811_10152165335453587_4370740385321546011_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2h4aVuXPjPiUnrnNtX85D3_ZwVF8cwJ6bCbZkL9ehGE2xl01G0Hersp3drHlh1cIPpjfuOLGaCoJ-h-z4mumZQ6sIeChBtAAiEOP1yfX0nLERslUqJ2w4hCXdtbDXSKvkBEQQMSZmTz_e/s1600/10386811_10152165335453587_4370740385321546011_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a>WHITNEY LEFT. You remember <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/05/more-than-she-bargained-for.html" target="_blank">the sweet gal who spent five weeks with us</a> starting in May, including several days in the hospital for a serious bacterial infection? Well, her departure was equally exciting. We left our town with plenty of extra hours so that we could give her a mini-tour of our favorite cultural hot-spots on the normally 5-hour car ride to the capital city. We had several things go wrong, and then a bit more than halfway there, the car died. Caroline, Whitney, and I grabbed Whitney's luggage and hopped a bus as quickly as possible and then grabbed a taxi as we got closer, making it to the airport with a few minutes to spare before her flight left, then spinning around to take the midnight bus back to Encarnación. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglj-8WFXqfPpX8dGjtJO13KKwwHKk0whAsC_lwBTt3KMvzLazQdwO1Q3zN2Rav2q0EHmHghv60Wu-emy3OpUEoPIajdZxhoFw_J1xBxbB8mW-GyCl2wQ-5XB1iV8VT0SBTPcLnZ5dDheA/s1600/wrecker+small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgglj-8WFXqfPpX8dGjtJO13KKwwHKk0whAsC_lwBTt3KMvzLazQdwO1Q3zN2Rav2q0EHmHghv60Wu-emy3OpUEoPIajdZxhoFw_J1xBxbB8mW-GyCl2wQ-5XB1iV8VT0SBTPcLnZ5dDheA/s1600/wrecker+small.jpg" height="178" width="320" /></a>THE CAR REBELLED. After a few weeks in the repair shop and $1500 worth of loving care, our car came back home, but still with a pesky noise that didn't seem it should be there. We drove it a few miles out of town to get it at road speed, and it died again. This time, the wrecker driver said the girls and I could stay inside it as he towed it back to our we-see-you-way-too-often mechanic. It was pretty exciting (and slightly scary) to be towed that way, but we watched Ken and the driver converse as we pretended to be in a parade behind them. <br />
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MY FOOT HEALED. The foot fracture I sustained from <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/03/they-gave-me-boot.html" target="_blank">twisting my ankle on uneven sidewalk</a> finally healed, and I can walk on it fully again without feeling pain. My leg is still unstable and the knee often gives out while walking, so I constantly have to be aware of what's around me, so I can grab ahold of something in a pinch. I wiped out a week and a half ago in the bedroom, breaking the fall with my outstretched hand. A bruise showed up behind my elbow, supposedly from the impact my bone had with the muscles back there, even the only part to touch the floor was my open palm. Needless to say, I'm still having lots of pain in my arm and can't use it for much of anything, but it should heal up soon enough. The weird thing is that when I fell, I felt my knee twist up behind me in an awkward angle. I just lay there a while, nervous to move it or get up because it was such an odd fall. But since then, the pain in my knee is GREATLY reduced. I think that something that was out of place was put back where it should be during the twisty fall, so I can't really complain about the arm.<br />
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I hope you're still with me at this point, because I've saved the best for last. Yeah, there is some really GOOD NEWS! <br />
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THE BRIDGE IS OPEN! After years of dreaming, searching for a place, raising funds, making connections, praying, and praying some more, the youth center we feel God sent us to Encarnación to open is up and running! We hosted a couple of pre-opening events with a few invited guests to test everything out, then flung wide the doors on July 4 for a night full of music, samples of our baked goods and coffee, games, door prizes, giveaways, and a whole lot of explaining what this place is about. A month or so later, we're meeting new people almost every day. The regulars are bringing friends, people see us on Facebook, folks come in because they saw our flashing sign. And we are thrilled every time we see connections happening and God's love flowing as we'd envisioned it could be. We're working the kinks out about the schedule, the baking, the legalities, and all sorts of fine details, but we have been thrilled with the response.<br />
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<br />Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-26286419347905496202014-05-29T20:13:00.001-04:002014-05-29T20:18:02.276-04:00More Than She Bargained ForA couple weeks ago we received a special visitor, a young lady we've known since she was a little ole' thing. Well, she's still quite petite. This is a homegrown South Carolinian gal who is working on a minor in Spanish and chose Paraguay to do some cultural studies. Culture, you say? Gotcha covered! Come on down!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whitney, Caroline, and Camille at youth service<br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">SOURCE: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Dios-es-/207527359365182?ref=br_tf" target="_blank">Dios es +</a></span></td></tr>
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So Camille and I bussed into Asuncion to pick Whitney up on one of the biggest holidays of the year (the Paraguayan Mothers Day / Independence Day combo). Lucky for Whitney, the streets were clear of the normally insane and scary traffic, and we had an uneventful, albeit really long, trip back to Encarnación.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsHBZ-VmTOnhao0pvLCQ21ACv3cfENAxY-_eNvx7f2m-8z4q_8RhuqBw73D5J76CCLAbY33z0gF-abcoifTRSuOgPTkOB7qHmPVs5lPpP0_Y3biWbhR_fLv2EiaeKK0RL0Vz1P8RzVThs/s1600/10288721_10152117845058587_2783245926861174596_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRsHBZ-VmTOnhao0pvLCQ21ACv3cfENAxY-_eNvx7f2m-8z4q_8RhuqBw73D5J76CCLAbY33z0gF-abcoifTRSuOgPTkOB7qHmPVs5lPpP0_Y3biWbhR_fLv2EiaeKK0RL0Vz1P8RzVThs/s1600/10288721_10152117845058587_2783245926861174596_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a>She jumped right in, accompanying us on whatever missions fun was on tap for that day. She even took some solo trips when a few of my English students offered to take her for a day of classes at high school. She endured a really cold, windy, rainy day at the prison, played volleyball with a local team, taught English to a group of 1st graders with about 30 seconds notice, helped us with the remodeling and construction work at the youth center, and attended several church services, youth events, and a Mothers Day party.<br />
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Then she felt a little bad. Then she felt a little worse. Then she felt a lot worse.<br />
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I did that thing I do, pulling out my box of goodies and self-diagnosing. But this one wasn't giving up, so we gave in and made a trip to the emergency room, where most people go here to get treatment if they don't have a regular doctor (most don't). Poor baby had to endure a few tests and a bunch of mashing around on her aching belly, then they sent us home with prescriptions for some meds.<br />
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But she didn't get better. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping a smile on--This was the removal of the IV <br />
so we could get outta there!</td></tr>
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After that call I always make to my mom at times like these, we went back to the ER and the doctor decided she needed to be admitted for further tests and treatment for dehydration. I held her foot and prayed as this sweet, quiet little gal got her first IV and was prepped to spend her first night in the hospital. Man, did I feel bad that she got so sick on our watch. Her list of firsts was supposed to be filled with the funner things...first time to visit Jesuit ruins, first time to interview someone totally in Spanish, first time to have a pj party in a foreign country...you get it.<br />
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The nurses all wanted to know what she was doing here (and to reprimand me for letting her get sick--"Don't you know she can't eat the food or drink the water from here?"), so there were lots of opportunities to share her story. Turns out she'd gotten ahold of some crazy bacteria that had caused an infection in her gastrointestinal system. Well, I guess it's closer to say that some crazy bacteria got ahold of <i>her</i>.<br />
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She handled those two nights stuck in the hospital room with me to talk her head off, with lots of grace. I'm sure she also learned a slew of new health-related vocabulary, which should make that report she has to give back at her college quite interesting. She's resting at our house now, and her new friends are already working on who'll be the next one to take her to school or for a walk around town to see the sites. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A special pizza lunch to meet and greet Whitney (beside me on far right)</td></tr>
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She's a great ambassador for American Christian youth and her shining personality has made it easy for Encarnación to fall in love with Whitney. (I've already had to tell more than one fella that she has a steady guy back home... You're welcome, Brandon!)Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-1834340012076673892014-05-20T18:16:00.000-04:002014-05-20T18:16:00.537-04:00Have Papers, Will Paint!It was a big day when Ken signed the paper that finalized the papers declaring <a href="http://www.tapemissions.com/1366-2/" target="_blank">the Bridge</a> an official entity with the local government, and it meant that we could finally begin to work on <a href="http://www.hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/04/we-have-building.html" target="_blank">the building we rented</a> a few weeks ago. <div>
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We started with paint, my favorite way to remodel. Well, I shouldn't say "we" because I'm mostly the supervisor at this point, but either way, the walls began to change colors!<br />
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There are only a few swipes of the paintbrush left on this phase of the project, then we'll start in on the electrical wiring and constructing and purchasing furniture. Again, I use the word "we" loosely. </div>
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As we work on the building, excitement is growing and people around town keep asking when we'll open. We sure hope it'll be soon, because the weather is absolutely beautiful now, perfect for sitting outside on the sidewalk and opening wide those big garage doors, to welcome new Bridge patrons. Won't be long now!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpqrtYV6JbTyboiBOC1EMlfvHQxa0ZtwhG_n_s3Y4Lidsfx0CqijJ9cXc9LJ26QRJ-Gt939I5yuijgs-Fy8S5SbPpBiaODyyD2JwD9SP74n4-TkJPtLQ8-MWv8AlQRnjepU0RQYwNFquW/s1600/10001191_838243429538014_2351012799233040015_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqpqrtYV6JbTyboiBOC1EMlfvHQxa0ZtwhG_n_s3Y4Lidsfx0CqijJ9cXc9LJ26QRJ-Gt939I5yuijgs-Fy8S5SbPpBiaODyyD2JwD9SP74n4-TkJPtLQ8-MWv8AlQRnjepU0RQYwNFquW/s1600/10001191_838243429538014_2351012799233040015_o.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These t-shirts were sold by a church as a fundraiser for the Bridge.<br />My mom ordered one for each of us, and we can't WAIT to wear them here!</td></tr>
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Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-25881159208423563462014-05-18T17:32:00.001-04:002014-05-18T17:32:36.046-04:00Celebrating TeachersEvery fall (spring in the U.S.), Paraguayans get all sentimental and start honoring folks. The first of these holidays is Day of the Teacher. A few of the teens from my English class happen to go to the same high school, and they mentioned a special assembly they wanted me to attend, where each grade would give a presentation in honor of their teachers. <br />
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At the time, I was still using crutches, and I woke to a stormy day. The students were very attentive and met me at my car to see that I got to the gym okay, where they'd saved me a seat just inside the door...the first one we came to. I was very excited at the time, thinking I'd avoid walking across slick concrete with those crutches, but I soon realized this meant I was sitting just a few feet in front of the speakers. Nothing happens at normal volumes here. It's all maxed-out, distortion-heavy, bringin-the-bass fun. Mental note: Bring cotton next time you go to a school event.<br />
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A couple of classes kept to the traditions that are present in every ceremony in this country--harp music, dances in the long skirts and shirts with crocheted sleeves and hems, and poems in Spanish and Guarani. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Traditional Paraguayan bottle dance. They actually managed to get one <br />more bottle each on their heads after I took this picture.</td></tr>
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But the majority of the presentations followed a retro theme and involved 20 or 30 teens dancing to music from various decades. Most dancers were wearing short poodle skirts and t-shirts with a bandana around their necks, and whether their dance was officially titled as Tribute to the 70's, 80's, or 90's, the music they actually danced to was mostly from the 50's. An 80's song did make it in on one group who said they were paying tribute to the 70's, but I kept that to myself.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ick5yH7c9ImVWrZri-R1u5mnnJyNGw2177VDpXoxz4tRivOOYGwNrsN75kM65BLyVAz9W4BqlGkgAcYuXeWR_xUlANkwfOihpUsIejbHL5jCpNn4DxdsX_LVwfLTjUSWsr3AM58QwIyq/s1600/sm+50s+dance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8ick5yH7c9ImVWrZri-R1u5mnnJyNGw2177VDpXoxz4tRivOOYGwNrsN75kM65BLyVAz9W4BqlGkgAcYuXeWR_xUlANkwfOihpUsIejbHL5jCpNn4DxdsX_LVwfLTjUSWsr3AM58QwIyq/s1600/sm+50s+dance.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These guys were going through their routine for "Jailhouse Rock" when <br />I heard the first chords of Michael's Jackson's "Thriller" <br />and they were invaded by zombies.</td></tr>
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The <i>best</i> part was that each song began with a long howling siren, much like that noise you hear just before the blaring rock song as the roller coaster starts up at the local parking lot carnival. My ears stopped buzzing four days later, but it took about two weeks to get the hearing back on the left side. I kept that to myself, too. ;) The kids had obviously put a lot of work into their dances and I was proud to be invited to watch.<br />
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The next day, the cultural center where I teach English hosted a party for Day of the Teacher, where Ken and I ate pizza and watched various attendees sing karaoke into the wee hours of the morning. Never a dull moment!Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-10949829801229902252014-04-23T14:19:00.001-04:002014-04-23T14:28:51.247-04:00Holy Week Happenings<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xL-9zP9IP2yDMoBDc0gcgMJAacEbju49H4YC1_ONMjV1wE7dihy286fhU8gttbg7krTGYoXCM8gFsbYYRAB3MyzA6IHHDN-3vbS-iKFoCpTKghh0W9g9I-2UPJtcJDVEu6w8EjYsbJfW/s1600/sm+analia+chipa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8xL-9zP9IP2yDMoBDc0gcgMJAacEbju49H4YC1_ONMjV1wE7dihy286fhU8gttbg7krTGYoXCM8gFsbYYRAB3MyzA6IHHDN-3vbS-iKFoCpTKghh0W9g9I-2UPJtcJDVEu6w8EjYsbJfW/s1600/sm+analia+chipa.jpg" height="160" width="200" /></a>Holy Week (or as you know it, Spring Break) falls in the autumn here, so no fuzzy chicks or floral bouquets are part of our holiday. Monday and Tuesday are pretty normal, then Wednesday usually signals the beginning of a few days off from school, when many families decide to travel to Grandma's house. Wednesday and Thursday, everyone bakes <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2012/03/chipa.html" target="_blank">chipa</a> (cheesy bread made from pig lard) as a family, preparing to share it with friends and neighbors on Thursday and Friday. This sweet girl brought us by a batch Friday morning.<br />
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The big focus of the whole holiday is Good Friday, known as Viernes Santo (Holy Friday). By then, everyone should have finished their travels, so there are hardly any buses running. Because massive amounts of chipa were made ahead of time, no one's running to the market or stoking fires to cook meals. The day is spent in quiet contemplation of the sacrifice that took place on the cross. Saturday arrives, and life is back to normal. The up-side of city life is that a few churches here acknowledged Resurrection Sunday, rather than letting the heaviness of the crucifixion hang on without celebrating the hope that came a few days later.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubV_G7fOUzI6aqTHYrBX04OJcs70Bkaz7gM6BhVX6_6LIUybyjordSHyJz9QY52mXoizJ0r1ITq7lbmUx7g50SQ1w8Ff2dOnOY90MBsI5F8W1Sn9_6sa-v6YINAdIHFaeIQmU8Glmpghv/s1600/sm+carlos+guitar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubV_G7fOUzI6aqTHYrBX04OJcs70Bkaz7gM6BhVX6_6LIUybyjordSHyJz9QY52mXoizJ0r1ITq7lbmUx7g50SQ1w8Ff2dOnOY90MBsI5F8W1Sn9_6sa-v6YINAdIHFaeIQmU8Glmpghv/s1600/sm+carlos+guitar.jpg" height="163" width="200" /></a>As for us, we took advantage of the days off of school and hosted a dozen teens for lunch on Wednesday. I say "we" but the truth is, most of the work fell on the girls, as I sat with my foot propped up and gave them directions. We enjoyed spending the afternoon and evening sharing with these young men and women, talking about Easter, singing, playing games, and chatting. <br />
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It seemed to be the week for English learning, too, as I had four different private tutoring sessions at home, from folks who've never come before for help. I started to ask if they'd all secretly gotten together around town to play a practical joke on me, as they just kept coming and coming! At one of the sessions with adult ladies, we decided to continue weekly, using a Bible study as the basis of our lessons. The other groups were teens, and I thanked God for their desire to chat about more things than learning the language.<br />
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We also enjoyed a yummy lunch with fellow missionaries, participating in some American traditions. After coloring eggs and finding them around the yard, the little ones decided to hide them again and let our "big girls" go out looking. They hid them a little too well, though, as one was never found! <br />
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Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-21491912561902969862014-04-17T18:30:00.000-04:002014-04-17T18:30:09.628-04:00We Have a Building!<i>Building</i> isn't the right word. Neither is<i> room</i>, or <i>facility</i>. I guess you'd technically call it a storefront, but since this is my first time living in a city, I'm not used to using words like that. Here it's called a salon. Not like where you get a massage and a manicure, but /sah-LONE/, translated "big room." So yeah. This place came up for rent, we checked it out, worked out details with the owners, and a few days later signed papers. Woo hoo!<br />
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If you have no idea why we'd want a salon, then you might wanna <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2013/06/bridge-week-what-and-how.html" target="_blank">read a post</a> or <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2013/06/bridge-week-infographic.html" target="_blank">two</a> and get caught up on the coffee-house style youth center we plan to open here in Encarnación, Paraguay, aka The Bridge!<br />
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In this picture, it's the area with the first two garage doors, one of which is half open. The green building with the purple doors is someone else's salon. We'll be able to take advantage of the sidewalk space in front of ours for placing a few tables and signage. Okay, before we go inside, let me warn you that it's gonna need a little work. That's typical. The floors here in Paraguay are tiled and walls are made of concrete, so when an old tenant moves out, there's always work to be done. You ready? Let's take a look.<br />
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I guess you can tell that this is technically two salons, or at least it was at some point. But the front of that dividing wall is now gone, so they are now opened up with a little bit of wall left between them. Standing just inside the door that's partially open above, here's the view--</div>
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And if you scoot over to the inside of the other roll-up door, you see this--</div>
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Why, yes, that is a walk-through door in that middle wall, punched out just enough to duck a little and walk right through it, but don't forget to step up because at floor level, the bottom few inches of the wall still remain. You can see the bricks inside there, so we're thinking we'll dress that up a bit and leave it there. The little nook at the back is a full bathroom (YAY!) and the gray doors at the back lead to nowhere, so we'll probably block those with some piece of furniture.</div>
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Ah, and one cool thing that remains from the previous owners, who were operating a small neighborhood convenience store--the logos for Fanta and Coke hand-painted on one wall. I'm working hard to figure out a decor scheme that would at least incorporate the Coke part, since it's so well done. We shall see.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSg9tqWW-CYSXFMqkDb_Gbvt-JFra5HtNCd0fkGhCncSJWmCLPB5inna1uc5M3Lx9rdLojsieWgARsw399_yD5EuHgWQFEHq1hvgGwlr3RScGiqIdm5-T7QQzxrlPUO0HlZykJF4tvBwm/s1600/sm+salon+drink+signs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfSg9tqWW-CYSXFMqkDb_Gbvt-JFra5HtNCd0fkGhCncSJWmCLPB5inna1uc5M3Lx9rdLojsieWgARsw399_yD5EuHgWQFEHq1hvgGwlr3RScGiqIdm5-T7QQzxrlPUO0HlZykJF4tvBwm/s1600/sm+salon+drink+signs.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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So rejoice with us for the end to an almost two-year search for a spot! As we begin the process of making this place cool, we'll keep you posted with photos and maybe even a video. Lots of the teens are offering to pitch in manual labor, so let's see how it all develops!</div>
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SIDE NOTE: Despite a rocky start to this week, possibly related to some cold rain that blew through, the last couple of days have been much less painful and a bit easier to get around. I'd been hanging out in the house because I <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/03/they-gave-me-boot.html" target="_blank">didn't have the strength or balance</a> to handle the stairs, but today, when Ken went to take these pictures, I was able with his help to get down and back up those stairs, as well as get out of the truck and look around inside the salon. First time out of the house in a week, and I was so ready! Thanks for the prayers.</div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-45386174630726729332014-03-26T15:15:00.000-04:002014-03-26T15:15:49.483-04:00They Gave Me the BootThe irony of my day is probably what keeps me laughing. I wrote <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/03/just-killin-time.html" target="_blank">my last post</a> on Sunday, but those of you who get it in your email boxes didn't see it come out until Monday. About the time you were reading the words "<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/03/just-killin-time.html" target="_blank">I think this <i>I'm bored</i> time is coming to an end</a>," I was taking steps to ensure that it wouldn't. Actually, just ONE step. <br />
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That step was on a piece of sidewalk that unevenly sloped down to another, rougher area, just the right way for my right ankle to roll and send me to the ground. You may not be acquainted with Mr. Right Foot yet, as it's the good ole' <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-few-miracles-in-land-of-surgery.html" target="_blank">Left Leg</a> that gets all the attention here. Mr. Right has been the handy, stable, superhero side, steadily growing more muscular over these past three years as it's picked up the slack for its not-so-stable partner. <br />
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We had just walked out of the office of a lady I was sure would rent us her open storefront for the <a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/the-bridge/" target="_blank">youth center we're itching to get started</a>, but she quite politely insisted that we should look elsewhere. Part of the problem is that it's difficult to explain what this youth center is going to be. I can tell anyone who's spent time in Europe or the U.S. that we're envisioning a sort of coffee house geared toward youth, and they get it. But that venue doesn't exist here, and it is perceived more like a place for gangs to congregate or for drugs to be sold as loitering teens pass around a bottle of beer. <br />
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So, yeah. I was feeling a little discouraged from the landlord's reaction and off my game. I normally spend my walking moments looking at the ground beneath me, so much so that my neck hurts after even short walks and I've commented about how I'll break this habit once I can walk more stably and don't NEED to watch my every step. The always-uneven sidewalk surfaces of Paraguay took advantage of my moment of distraction and planted a slight decline just under my right foot, knowing that the left knee would buckle instead of come to the rescue. And buckle it did. And down I went, in slow motion.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.newsey.es/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/paparazzi-cameras.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="http://www.newsey.es/the-characteristics-tabloids-look-for-in-their-new-celebrity-darlings/paparazzi-cameras/" border="0" height="240" src="http://www.newsey.es/wp-content/uploads/2013/01/paparazzi-cameras.jpg" title="" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Okay. Okay. Paparazzi here is really just guys with cell<br />phones, but you get the idea. When you fall in public,<br />THIS is what you imagine!</i></td></tr>
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As soon as I gathered my pride and made sure no news cameras were around to catch that (aren't they always?), Ken reached down to scoop me up. Not an easy task, as I've put on a bit of weight in these less-active few years. Once I was up, I held onto Caroline (thank God she decided to come along!) while he ran for the car, which was only a few yards away. It was facing the wrong way, though, and all the streets of our town are one-way, meaning Ken had to make a huge loop to get back to me.<br />
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I tried to balance myself, but the <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-few-miracles-in-land-of-surgery.html" target="_blank">recently-operated-on, still-not-quite-100% left knee</a> wasn't ready to take on all of my weight, and the right foot and ankle were throbbing from what I assumed was a sprain. About the time I felt the knee couldn't take any more, I shifted a little more weight onto the sprained foot, and the world went black. I had enough time to tell Caroline, "I'm passing out," but not enough to lower myself to the ground. Again, thank God she was there. She said I fell straight forward, where she happened to be standing. She tried to catch my dead weight but ended up merely breaking my fall as I rolled over to the sidewalk on my side. <br />
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I laugh to imagine this scene--now that it's over--because Caroline said 4 people passed by us lying there without stopping to help. I can only guess what went through their minds. We've just come out of tourist season, when visitors from all parts piled into our little city, standing out in stark contrast to the look of a typical Paraguayan. We were mistaken for tourists constantly during this time, as many of the visitors looked more like us. You may remember my descriptions of the women here--skin-tight jeans or stretchy pants, sexy shirts, super-high heels, just-right makeup including those long, fake eyelashes and vibrant eyeshadow, and hair that just stepped out of a salon. And you know me. I was my typical self--camo cargo pants, a t-shirt, tennis shoes, and these kinda new dreadlocks. So I'm sure Caroline looked like a sweet little girl trying to help the homeless lady whose eyes were rolled back in her head, surely because she was stoned or drunk or both.<br />
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Thankfully, a couple of men finally ran over and lifted me into a chair they brought from the empanada stand next door, where I assume they were eating. One yelled at Caroline to go get me a bottle of water, but she was nervous to leave because I was still groggy and my purse with our bill-paying money was on the sidewalk beside me. After he yelled his command again, she took off as fast as she could get the water and get back, and a few minutes later Ken pulled up. Phwew! What fun!<br />
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To make a long story a tiny bit shorter, a visit to the ER showed that I'd broken a bone in my foot during the (first) fall. That caused the second fall. Since the knee is still delicate and can't really make up for this foot that I'm told CANNOT touch the ground, I'm stuck in bed. I'm not nearly as okay with it as last time, since I had some warning back then, whereas this came suddenly. I had big plans for projects set to start this week and in April, and now they're on hold. Postponed. Again. <br />
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There is a bright side and a lot to be thankful for. Caroline kept me from what could have been a serious face plant in the concrete, and neither of us were hurt from the passing out episode. I am not in a tremendous amount of pain--it's tolerable. It's not the unbearable heat of mid-summer. The ankle joint seems to be intact. I was given the choice of a cast or a boot, and I went with the much-easier-to-manage boot. My family has experience with me not being able to walk and knows just what to do. And I have a list of projects from the last time around that I can complete on the computer now. Yeah, let's just stick with the bright side.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-10610384338987039632014-03-23T19:05:00.001-04:002014-03-26T14:21:25.444-04:00Just Killin' TimeI'm not good with down time. Makes me feel bored and depressed and crabby and achy and on top of that, I just don't like it. Thankfully, I don't get much.<br />
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In the first week or so of my post-surgery, sit-in-a-chair-with-the-leg-elevated-and-iced time, I planned the girls' homeschool year. That was fun, but it didn't keep my busy long enough. </div>
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I took a few classes online, brushed up on my English teaching skills, had a trillion conversations with God in my head and on paper, completed some Bible studies, made new family menus and shopping lists, and watched a few movies. And found spots on the ceiling and let my friend put my hair in dreadlocks and ate too much and twisted the dreadlocks and painted my toenails and kept twisting the dreadlocks.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAALPIqIBuh5y3DAneFrGIcIyoAGaqTLyM5w8MJxxqKG1jx4o0T13Ui9I64HRLFzU2C1LB8sXEV1A5GCLWfC3sFgi2ELCjfpkoDDp2llCpdplEbXEWj8Ff28D5C6_HrLX4S6B0T92UplnF/s1600/final+no+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAALPIqIBuh5y3DAneFrGIcIyoAGaqTLyM5w8MJxxqKG1jx4o0T13Ui9I64HRLFzU2C1LB8sXEV1A5GCLWfC3sFgi2ELCjfpkoDDp2llCpdplEbXEWj8Ff28D5C6_HrLX4S6B0T92UplnF/s1600/final+no+logo.jpg" height="320" width="206" /></a>Then I found a post on facebook that mentioned the need for some computer design. Turns out that <a href="http://letraparaguay.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Letra Paraguay</a>, which is an organization dedicated to teaching literacy and translating the Bible into the language of indigenous people groups, was in the process of self-publishing a compilation of stories of Latin American women in missions. Its official title is <i>Women in Mission: Real Stories of Latin-American Missionaries Passionate for the Kingdom of God</i>. <br />
<br />
The book will not only raise awareness of mission work, but also help raise funds for their ministry. They posted a photo of what they had (see below) and asked for volunteers to design a cover using that information. Just what the doctor ordered!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBK3mCxiM6arWUGvVjI6QGs8JDkbsS6WCjhyphenhyphenO571ZQS8KWUrffdv6eJu4yNskdLVwfUpHaEy7rnHB7ICOEFVDp3l9mU5yBC0AwYhj9msn3a2VQ1QYIS4aDwtUrRriMs4z5ts50asoUafE9/s1600/1525090_568646453212698_1833815141_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBK3mCxiM6arWUGvVjI6QGs8JDkbsS6WCjhyphenhyphenO571ZQS8KWUrffdv6eJu4yNskdLVwfUpHaEy7rnHB7ICOEFVDp3l9mU5yBC0AwYhj9msn3a2VQ1QYIS4aDwtUrRriMs4z5ts50asoUafE9/s1600/1525090_568646453212698_1833815141_n.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></div>
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I got right to work and decided to use a picture of Camille, since she wouldn't charge me a fee to use her image. ;) And here's the final product to the right, before the organization's seal was placed on the front. If you're interested in reading it--it's in Spanish, I must warn you--you can <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mujeres-Misi%C3%B3n-misioneras-latinoamericanas-apasionadas-ebook/dp/B00IRZLB5I" target="_blank">find it on Amazon</a>.<br />
<br />
And then I sent another email to another ministry that I've come to appreciate, called More to Be. Their official tagline is <i>Equipping Moms, Engaging Teens, Encouraging Mentors</i>. Have I mentioned how much I<i> love </i>folks who put free resources online, whether they be sermons or songs or handouts or studies or classes or printable worksheets or whatever? My email was to ask if any of the free resources they offered for mentoring teen girls were available in Spanish, but truth is, I knew they weren't. After all, surely they'd mention that on the site, right? <br />
<br />
So I bit the bullet and decided that with all the time I'd wasted trying to dig up nonexistent Spanish-language freebies on various websites, I could have been translating these things myself. I actually did that for a whole book a few years back, which served us for several study groups designed specifically for teen girls. Time to get the typing fingers back in motion.<br />
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I worked on a few documents and graphics then sent them to the leader of the ministry, so that she could keep them on file in case anyone else should contact her in my position. Surely there are other English-speaking mentors out there who would love to be able to share this material with Spanish-speaking girls in their world, right? Next thing I knew, we were chatting back and forth via email, and she asked if I'd consider coming on-board their team as a translator. With the disclaimer that my Spanish is really "street slang" and fairly ghetto, I accepted and got to work. <br />
<br />
Digging around for which documents I wanted to start with, I found a video about how to view those "single" years before marriage or even a serious relationship, through the lens of what God may be wanting to do in you. I figured I might as well try my hand at adding subtitles, since this is information girls all over the world need to here. You can watch the video in English with Spanish words floating around <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nltCx0mA_sQ&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">over here</a>. You can find the links to the resources I've gotten translated so far over at <a href="http://www.moretobe.com/2014/03/14/spanish/" target="_blank">moretobe.com</a>, as well as many other "still in English" freebies to help you minister to tweens and teen girls, a section specific to moms, and material for the girls themselves. <br />
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Now that school is in full-swing here at Casa Hagerman and at the schools where we teach, and this leg is getting strong enough to be up on it longer, I think this <i>I'm bored</i> time has come to an end. I'm thankful to have found some things to keep me occupied this go-around.</div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-3761644651803679752014-03-14T13:10:00.000-04:002014-03-14T13:10:01.347-04:00New Developments at PrisonThe latest numbers coming out for this year say there are 8,871 inmates in the 16 prisons across Paraguay. According to the <a href="https://www.oas.org/en/iachr/mandate/what.asp" target="_blank">Inter-American Commission on Human Rights</a>, 70% of them are awaiting trial. They're hanging out while their paperwork shifts hands, or, exponentially worse, sits on a desk forgotten. As you can imagine, this leads to a lot of confusion and frustration. <br />
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Sometimes when we go, we cross paths with other folks doing "religious visits," as they're called, in other wings. A few nuns coming with bags of bread, a handful of older ladies in skirts carrying Bibles, a few men in ties going to the back where the adult men live. We smile, greet each other, shake hands, pass cheek kisses, and go on our way. But this week, we were all called together for a special meeting, where representatives from the capital shared ideas with us. <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiFbZMXvHMK3N2qogiogs8x6nZAoJel8Tb2yCTApXFuEwyAeY9Mh94g14fvYOn1fPI8TDJ0oHkX4lvNkCqbMl4aoXF-LN6FeVirkkID1kOi-TwHD_5trqJHCdKDhjcFRD8ZDKMcwiuonK/s1600/la-carcel-de-tacumbu-_595_386_221727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="http://www.abc.com.py/especiales/fin-de-semana/casi-la-mitad-de-carceles-paraguayas-estan-superpobladas-626991.html" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiFbZMXvHMK3N2qogiogs8x6nZAoJel8Tb2yCTApXFuEwyAeY9Mh94g14fvYOn1fPI8TDJ0oHkX4lvNkCqbMl4aoXF-LN6FeVirkkID1kOi-TwHD_5trqJHCdKDhjcFRD8ZDKMcwiuonK/s1600/la-carcel-de-tacumbu-_595_386_221727.jpg" height="257" title="" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tacumbu Prison in Asuncion, Paraguay. Photo from ABC Color.</td></tr>
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At the meeting, people doing what we do in different prisons came to present their ideas and tell a little about the programs being put into place across the country. We formed a local committee and talked about how we can work together to make our local prison better, how we can minister to the needs of the people incarcerated here, not only spiritually, but also their physical, emotional, and social needs. I had the opportunity to share about the program we are starting with the teen boys in April, using Bible-based material developed by <a href="https://www.facebook.com/notes/ili-team/weekly-prayer-focus-paraguays-most-notorious-prison/617599001599142" target="_blank">a fellow missionary in Asuncion</a>. The focus is on preparing the boys for reintegrating themselves into society when they are released.<br />
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I've never gotten the chance to talk about that program, partly because, as I said, we just meet the other visitors as we pass in the hallway. Everyone seemed interested and agreed that this sort of teaching is important. <br />
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Within five minutes of arriving back home, I got a message from the missionary who developed the workbook. Before I read his note, I had to comment that it was so strange to hear from him when I'd JUST been talking about him and the program a few minutes before, for the first time outside of our little team. He went on to explain that he'd like to come here to offer training on how to use the program. Great timing! <br />
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Then today, we visited with the ladies in their wing. Normally, we spend a few minutes praying, a few minutes in Bible study, a few minutes sharing. Today we had much more time than normal and a couple of other missionaries taught the women how to do some crafts they can later sell. This is important because they have to buy their food and their toiletries, as well as anything else they might need like clothes or shoes, and medical care. You know that crafty stuff is not my cup of tea, so I just hung out talking with the gals who were also standing back watching. After a few minutes, two of them invited me and my teammate to go back to their cell to talk. What a wonderful time we had getting to know them and talking about life, their families, God, prison... whatever came up. It's very rare that we have the chance to really stop and spend one-on-one time like that.<br />
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During the course of our time with them, they mentioned that they'd been transferred here recently from a larger prison, where they were working. It seems the other place had some sewing machines set up and a few contracts with outside companies. The ladies made beautiful linens and purses, sold them to these businesses, who, in turn, sold them to the public. We talked to them about the possibility of getting something like that going here. <br />
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In our local prison, there is no work program or even a daily schedule. I don't have to tell you the dangers of an idle mind. Of being cooped up with the same people day after day in a tiny space with nothing to do. Of having nothing to take your mind off the children or parents who are waiting for you outside. And keep in mind that 7 out of 10 of these people haven't been convicted of anything yet. They're just waiting for their day in court. Sure, many of them are guilty, but with percentages that high, it stands to reason that there are innocent people living here, too. <br />
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Back to the sewing ladies who want to keep working. When we met with the group earlier this week, one of the things they explained was that the government is taking interest in bettering the conditions inside the prisons, as the UN was pretty unhappy with some of our human rights infringements. So now is the time to ask for grants, to try to get equipment, to take advantage of the political interest in prisons. <br />
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Is it coincidence that within a few days, we had our first opportunity to create interest in the reintegration Bible study, the creator of the program wants to come train us to use it, we find out about the availability of work programs, and we meet new ladies who have experience and desire to run such a program? Nah, I don't think so. I think God is answering prayers and has plans for these people that society has forgotten.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-9848296869950707272014-03-10T19:16:00.000-04:002014-03-11T11:38:50.132-04:00Would The Real You Please Stand Up?<b>You want to put that
needle <i>WHERE?</i> </b><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That was my first
reaction when I saw how long that thing was, and then I wondered how thick the
gel really could be inside the tiny container on top of it. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know, I know. You’re tired of hearing about this leg. Humor me a bit while I share with you what
God taught me using this ole’ thing. I
declare, I've had more spiritual rehab following the wreck than physical rehab.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since the surgery last
month, I've been making the trek to Asuncion about once a week for injections
of some sort of thick goo that is supposed to encourage the cartilage inside my
knee to regenerate. The shot’s no fun,
nor is the soreness afterward, but the worst of it is the trip to and from the
doctor’s office. Because this is a
pretty delicate procedure, we decided it was best to stick with the doctor we
most trust, the one we feel is very capable of pulling it off. That means a long day that includes anywhere
from a five- to eight-hour bus ride each way, which has given me a lot of
opportunities to catch up on recorded sermons and audiobooks and a whole lot of
time to think. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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I’ve also found myself
answering a lot of “Oh, really?” responses when I explain that I had another
surgery. To see me trekking about town,
you wouldn’t have known I needed
it. About six months ago or so, I
mastered the art of controlling my limp, and on a good day, when the humidity
level is low and I’m actively concentrating, you wouldn’t even be able to see
it. I’d gotten pretty good at walking
long distances and could even keep up with the fast walkers in the crowd. Yep, I’d gotten quite adept at hiding the
pain and creaking noises going on inside there.
And since I don’t tend to wear pants above my knees these days, the
scars were quite hidden and most folks forgot I’d ever even had an
accident. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="http://www.gradyjournal.com/gj_wp/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/stairway1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="http://www.gradyjournal.com/?tag=georgia-days" border="0" src="http://www.gradyjournal.com/gj_wp/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/stairway1.jpg" height="218" title="Photo/Ashley Strickland" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Until I needed to
climb stairs.</b> Put me under that sort of
stress, and I crumple. I take the stairs
like a toddler, pulling myself up by the rail and putting both feet on the same
step before moving up.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Until I needed to
run. </b> My leg’s just fine straight out, or
even with a slight bend. But bend it
enough to run or even jog, and it couldn’t support my weight. The muscle strength just wasn’t there, and
the problems within the joint wouldn’t let me build the muscles to reach that
point. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Someone called me <i>fake</i> the
other day, which really irked me. They said
there was no way I could be so positive about all this junk, no way I could
remain upbeat with the stresses I’ve gone through. I kept my cool (fake of me?) even though I
wanted to punch my accuser. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I really hope that in
terms of this leg and my attitude, I’m not faking anything. I hope that what I portray is what I am deep
inside. But the truth is, I could easily
fake you out if I wanted to. Can’t we
all, for a time at least?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could walk this walk
fast enough to keep up with the best of ‘em.
I could talk the talk and come across as someone who’s got it all
together—well, if you don’t count my Southern slang, I reckon. I could cover my scars and carefully avoid
the things that would bring out my weaknesses. After all, I grew up in this Christian thing. I know all the right words and all the cool moves.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But one day I’ll have
to climb higher. One day I’ll have to
run. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>And when I put myself under those
conditions, the real me will come out.</b> <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wrestled with
whether to have this last surgery. After all, shouldn't “good enough” be
enough? Should I have just been
satisfied knowing I didn’t have to use a cane anymore, and that I could control
the limp if I worked at it? Shouldn’t I
be happy that I’d at least gotten that far, and just leave well enough alone?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Shouldn’t we be
satisfied that we can put on the happy face and at least hold it together when folks
are looking? Shouldn’t we just be glad
we’re not “as bad as she is” or “as obviously messed up” as that next guy? <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I’d left the knee
as it was, it would have gotten progressively worse, and one day, I’d be
walking (or not) with a lot more pain. I
may have ended up back on the cane, and I certainly wouldn’t be achieving my
goal of running again. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If we leave our inner
hurts and sins alone, they will get progressively worse, and one day, we’ll be carrying
even more pain. You may end up
debilitated, and you certainly won’t be achieving the goal of running the race
with endurance.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, yeah, it’s a
painful to go through the process of having bad stuff removed from deep inside. It’s work to fill the space that remains
with things that will cause positive stuff to grow. It’s no fun to travel the road and spend the
time necessary to get to the help. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But
in the end, <b>do I really want to be fully healed, or do I just want to be perfect my ability to fake it?</b></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i> …let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith…. Hebrews 12:1-2</i></blockquote>
<br />
<b>Ever find yourself covering up what's going on inside instead of fixing it? How do you avoid faking it? </b>Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-61365933965844962902014-03-04T14:19:00.000-05:002014-03-04T14:21:17.830-05:00Folks With Sin, by Mission KenIn honor of Dr. Seuss's 100th birthday, I am reposting my husband's missionary version of the beloved book, Green Eggs and Ham. A look into what some of us may be thinking, were we to really say it out loud, and a challenge to look at folks through a different lens. If you'd rather hear Ken read this to you, in true bedtime-story fashion, then click over to <a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/folks-with-sin-inspired-by-green-eggs-and-ham/" target="_blank">the original page</a>.<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight..." Philippians 1:9</i></blockquote>
<br />
<br />
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
I am Ken, Mission Ken. <a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/i-am-ken.png" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-478" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/i-am-ken.png" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="i-am-ken" width="145" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Mission Ken. Mission Ken!<br />
He is my friend that Mission Ken.</div>
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Do you like the folks with sin?</div>
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I do not like them, Mission Ken.<br />
I do not like the folks with sin.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Would you like them here or there?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
I would not like them here or there.<br />
I would not like them anywhere.<br />
I do not like the folks with sin.<br />
I do not like them, Mission Ken.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Why don’t you like the folks with sin? <a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/bar-sam.jpg" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-479" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/bar-sam-300x258.jpg" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="bar-sam" width="270" /></a></div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Why don’t I like them? asks my friend.<br />
The folks with sin, they sit in bars.<br />
They drink their drinks, they drown their scars.<br />
They cut their arms and hide their shame.<br />
To be with them would soil my fame.<br />
To talk to those who sit in bars,<br />
My friends will think I’ve gone too far.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Would you bring them to your house?<br />
To eat a meal and meet your spouse?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Not for a meal. Not in my house.<br />
The risks are real for my spouse.<br />
I would not meet them in a bar.<br />
I would not bandage up their scars.<br />
I would not risk the folks with sin.<br />
I do not like them, Mission Ken.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Would you? Could you… meet their need?<br />
Give them hope, help them be freed.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
I would not, could not. They’re such a drain.<a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/housewife.jpg" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-483" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/housewife-300x272.jpg" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="housewife" width="300" /></a><br />
Always a bore and steeped in pain.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
You may like them. Try, you’ll see.<br />
You may like them. Come with me?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
I would not, could not go with you.<br />
I have a life and stuff to do.<br />
I do not like to see their pain.<br />
I do not waste my time in vain.<br />
I do not want them in my house.<br />
I do not want them near my spouse.<br />
I do not want friends of this sort.<br />
I do not like to go to court.<br />
I have a life and stuff to do.<br />
I don’t have time to go with you.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
A bench! A bench! A bench! A bench!<br />
Would you meet one on a bench?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Not on a bench to make a scene!<a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/grinchsmoker.png" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-481" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/grinchsmoker.png" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="grinchsmoker" width="159" /></a><br />
To smell their stench of nicotine!<br />
I would not, could not make a show.<br />
Not in a place my friends would go.<br />
I will not go and smell their stink.<br />
What would all my church friends think?<br />
I cannot ease their life of woe.<br />
I am not God, just human so<br />
I do not like the folks with sin.<br />
I do not like them, Mission Ken.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Say! In the dark? Here in the dark!<br />
Would you, could you, in the dark?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
I would not, could not, in the dark.<br />
Nor on a bench in a public park.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Would you, could you, in the rain?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
I would not, could not in the rain.<a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/prison-ridge.png" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-480" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/prison-ridge-213x300.png" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="prison-ridge" width="213" /></a><br />
Nor the musty hollow of a drain.<br />
Not in a box beneath a bridge.<br />
Not chains that lock at Prison Ridge.<br />
Not in a bar, a park or club.<br />
Not in my house, a car or pub.<br />
I think to waste my precious time<br />
on folks with sin would be a crime.<br />
I do not like this lowly fare.<br />
I do not like <em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">them</em> anywhere.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Could you help them stay afloat?<br />
Some of their burdens you could tote.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Those burdens are their own to reap.<br />
They are the goats! I am a sheep.<br />
I can’t do what you talk about,<br />
for in my church I have some clout.<br />
The pastor there has given me<br />
pats on the back and my own key.<br />
If I wish to be on staff,<br />
I can’t be seen with such riff-raff.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
What would Jesus think today<br />
if He saw you choose this path, this way?<br />
Ignoring all the cries, would HE<br />
condone your lazy apathy?</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Jesus was a righteous lot,<br />
A man whom sin would never spot.<br />
He was without a blemish, Ken.<br />
He was not like the folks with sin.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
But Jesus loves the folks with sin.<br />
He came to make them like His kin.<br />
He came to meet their every need,<br />
Die on a cross so they’d be freed.<br />
When Jesus sees the folks with sin,<br />
Nothing differs in you and them.<br />
We all have sin, we all fall short.<br />
Our hearts are black, we’re all the sort.<br />
He came to cleanse us from this state<br />
So that we would not medicate<br />
Or drown or hide or cover or binge<br />
Or be depressed or seek revenge</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
We’re not the same the two of us.<br />
I do not drink or smoke or cuss.<br />
I do not steal for my addiction.<br />
I do not rage from this affliction.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">
Your sins are varied, it’s to be sure.<br />
You think your life is wholly pure.<br />
But gluttony, gossip and closet porn<br />
are in your life. Your family’s torn.<br />
Your hidden scheme, your hidden affair<br />
Pull at your seams, fill you with care.<br />
Look up, let go, let Jesus win.<br />
He’ll free your soul. He’ll take your sin.<br />
He’ll cut the chains that tie you down.<a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/cat-in-hatjesus.png" style="border: 0px; color: #d05e0b; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-medium wp-image-486" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/cat-in-hatjesus-211x300.png" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="cat-in-hatjesus" width="211" /></a><br />
He’ll end the pain that makes you frown</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 30px;">
Jesus Christ,<br />
Righteous One<br />
You truly are<br />
God, The Son.<br />
Make me whole.<br />
Wash my heart.<br />
Here’s my soul.<br />
Let me restart.</div>
<div style="background-color: #e7e5e5; border: 0px; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 25.600000381469727px; margin-bottom: 1.5em; outline: 0px; padding: 0px 0px 0px 90px;">
<em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">You can! You will! he says with a grin.<br />I’ll take your heart. I’ll take your sin.</em><br />
<a href="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/the-same.jpg" style="border: 0px; clear: right; color: #d05e0b; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-485" src="http://www.ramblingbarba.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/the-same.jpg" style="border: none; float: right; margin: 0px 0px 5px 10px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;" title="the same" width="180" /></a><em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">I’ll take this chance, tell you my plan.<br />Carry my tale wherever you can.</em><br />
<em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">You’ve given your life and heart to me, Sam.<br />The people will see you just as I am.</em><br />
<em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">Look in the mirror and see where you’ve been.</em><br />
<strong style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;"><em style="border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px;">You’ll recognize YOU’RE the folks with the sin.</em></strong></div>
Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-75435143276109624562014-02-18T09:14:00.003-05:002014-02-18T09:14:50.015-05:00...And Forget Not<br />
<div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;">
</div>
<br />
I debated about writing a post today, on this third anniversary of my accident. I debated about even using that word--how many things are accidents, anyway? I've been debating all sorts of things since the day it happened.<br />
<br />
<i>Was it my fault because I didn't stop to pick up bread when I had the feeling I should?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Should I have taken <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2011/02/and-class-goes-on.html" target="_blank">all the trouble I'd been having that week</a> as a sign to stop going to class, instead of thinking it was just some adventure to face or hardship to push through?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Was God trying to teach me some giant lesson or did this guy just happen to be driving way too fast and lose control of his truck?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Why this?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Why that?</i><br />
<br />
And on and on, enough to drive a girl batty. <br />
<br />
Those questions and the details of that day, which have ceased to give me nightmares but still send a chill up my spine, keep me from sharing often, and keep me from wanting to write today. I also despise a victim mentality, when a person becomes defined by some tragic event they've been through. I fight becoming that person.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.pelhamfriends.ca/media/1/worship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="http://www.pelhamfriends.ca/" border="0" src="http://www.pelhamfriends.ca/media/1/worship.jpg" title="http://www.pelhamfriends.ca/" /></a>Then I remember the words of Psalm 103:2,<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits"</i></blockquote>
How can I not take the opportunity to thank God for giving me another chance at life, for waking me up when I would have never known the difference, for protecting me and providing for me in so many ways, for teaching me all the things I've come to understand in this long process of healing?<br />
<br />
I'd love to tell you I've come out of this some renewed, enlightened person who runs marathons and jumps whenever the urge hits. Soon. For now, I can only say that I empathize with handicapped people, that I have forgiven the man who hit me and is still suing us, and that I have a greater understanding of what it means to lean on the Lord. And that my children are much better cooks than when this happened. ;)<br />
<br />
For the rest of the details, I'll let you click away. <br />
<br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2011/02/details-details-details.html" target="_blank">Accident</a><br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2011/02/bionic-woman.html" target="_blank">Surgery #1</a><br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2011/02/rollin-along.html" target="_blank">Wheelchair Fun</a><br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2011/10/surgery-update-success.html" target="_blank">Surgery #2</a><br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2013/02/lets-do-this-one-more-time.html" target="_blank">Surgery #3</a><br />
<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.com/2014/02/a-few-miracles-in-land-of-surgery.html" target="_blank">Surgery #4</a><br />
<br />
Bless the Lord, O my soul.<br />
<br />
<br />Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5649871643976400046.post-13884777136023172242014-02-11T19:54:00.000-05:002014-02-11T19:54:04.954-05:00A Few Miracles in the Land of SurgeryI'm typing this just 14 hours after my latest surgery, the fourth in a series following<a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.ca/2011/02/details-details-details.html" target="_blank"> <i>the accident that took place three years ago</i></a> and shattered <a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.ca/2013/02/lets-do-this-one-more-time.html" target="_blank"><i>my femur</i></a>. This time, the focus was on repairing the inside of the knee, which, after getting the leg bones all lined back up, just wasn't doing the job it should have been. Turns out there was a bit of damage hiding inside the knee, masked for a while by the other complications.<br />
<br />
We weren't looking forward to this because several things made preparation difficult. Well, who really looks forward to surgery, anyway, right? Except this one seemed like it may be the one to get me back to as close to 100% as possible--back to jogging, to walking up and down stairs like a normal person, to going through a normal day's worth of walking without having to prop the leg up and "deal with it" by afternoon. So in a way, I was looking forward to it.<br />
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Then the a/c in our car died. That was a must-fix before making the trip, which took us a bit over 6 hours getting here, all in well-over 100 degree heat. Yep, gotta have a/c. <br />
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Then I ran over something and we had to buy a new tire, as I mentioned in <i><a href="http://hagermans.blogspot.ca/2014/02/whirlwind-ministry-tour.html" target="_blank">that last post</a>.</i><br />
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Then I found out insurance didn't want to cover this surgery. Their words? "We have to keep our expenses down. We can't just pay for every surgery that comes along." I asked why they chose a very specific type of knee surgery and left all others out. "Well, like we said, to keep our costs down." So you randomly picked THIS one, then? Yes, they told me. I was a bit frustrated. I called the surgeon, and he said there was no way he could call the surgery a meniscus repair--the random one the insurance DOES cover--because in his professional opinion, it didn't behave like that. So we made the decision to go ahead with surgery anyway.<br />
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The doctor said I'd stay overnight in the hospital, then a few days in town, then see him one more time before leaving for the weekend. If I was lucky, I'd get in just in time to change clothes and get to my Friday afternoon class, which I really couldn't miss this time.<br />
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Because it's high tourist season (vacation + the huge festival of Carnaval in our town), it wasn't safe to leave our apartment unattended, nor could we find someone free to take care of our dog for those days we'd need to be gone. In the end, we reluctantly made the difficult decision to leave Camille there in our apartment with a couple of older gals from church, a deadbolt lock, and some pretty firm instructions, so that they could babysit the place and the dog. Not easy for this self-proclaimed over-protective mom to do, <i><b>even if</b></i> Camille just turned 17.<br />
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So the car got out of the shop the day before we left for our big trip, and the mission guest house that was full got an opening just in time for us to stay here. That saved us a fortune and put us in a safe, walled complex full of other missionaries, which meant that Caroline was able to spend the day there rather than accompany us to the hospital just before 5 AM. <br />
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I went for my pretests and found a way to also have a lot of other tests (those that folks at my age should be doing yearly anyway but never quite get done) all the same day. It was quite the tour of exam rooms, needles, and specialized medical equipment, but it felt great to knock those things of my to-do list.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIafEDF423LYc6cEV9_PnyKErRmuflSxAoyNiMhmmp1dP-LB-DTwtE2wrIH-s9s6wcc0CHthAdogX8vZPb3o8bc5GDA4Fw4avcGesxYPviU8hy-n3iU7gDEa2bGLW7pZHy8jmpnPINczO/s1600/sm+me+hosp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmIafEDF423LYc6cEV9_PnyKErRmuflSxAoyNiMhmmp1dP-LB-DTwtE2wrIH-s9s6wcc0CHthAdogX8vZPb3o8bc5GDA4Fw4avcGesxYPviU8hy-n3iU7gDEa2bGLW7pZHy8jmpnPINczO/s1600/sm+me+hosp.jpg" height="266" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting wheeled to the OR in the wee hours</td></tr>
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Then came time for the surgery, and I actually stayed awake for most of it--dozing in and out from how great it felt to have half of my body numbed and not be in pain for a change. And I was awake when the doctor looked up over that sheet that blocks the view of the surgery, and said, "Guess what? Your meniscus DOES have a tear or two. Looks like insurance will be paying for this after all!" It was hard to do much celebrating with my arms strapped to the table, but I threw out some praises anyway! WOO HOO!<br />
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After a couple hours of napping back in the room, the doctor came by to tell me that the type of repairs he did meant that I can put as much weight on my leg as I can tolerate. I was already planning on dangling that thing in the air for a month or so, and came prepped with crutches. Now I only use them when I need, which is a HUGE relief to everyone in the family! WOO HOO again!<br />
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Since I got right up and walked around the room a bit after lunch, the doctor said I was doing well enough to leave. So rather than spend the night in the hospital, I came back to the guest house, where Caroline was waiting for us. The doctor said I'd need to come back (giant hassle) next week to get the stitches out, but I told him I'd take those out myself, since I'd done that for the previous three surgeries without any problem. "Okay," he conceded, "but in two weeks you have to come back for an injection, and it goes in the joint, so I have to do that one!" Deal. <br />
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Tomorrow I head back to our Paraguayan home and to our very responsible but worried over daughter, days earlier than expected and with a whole lot more time to rest up before class Friday. WOO HOO all over again!<br />
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To say that I'm thrilled with how this has turned out is a huge understatement, but I know that there are people all over the world praying for me. Thank you all for your thoughtfulness in taking our needs to the Father, and please rejoice with us for the extra special ways He's met those needs today.Christiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16007668779683965884noreply@blogger.com1