tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24784725388556463082024-03-13T11:58:19.817-05:00the traveling russellswe are chase and julie russell. we currently live in managua, nicaragua. we work with One by One at a church called Camino de Vida and we desire to reach children and youth with the gospel of jesus christ.Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-69567375890584489892016-08-04T17:57:00.000-05:002016-08-05T10:54:55.762-05:00Re-entry anxiety: shopping<div class="MsoNormal">
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<i>I started this post months ago, but was
reminded to finish it after going to Wal-Mart with some friends of ours who
recently moved back to the States from Nicaragua. I’ve updated it to more
accurately describe my current feelings.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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Having been back in the States for nearly a year now, I like to think
the most intense emotions of reentry shock are behind us, but we still experience
them from time to time—and likely will for years. Living in a different country
inevitably changes you. Actually, I would go so far as to say that if living in
another country has no effect on your perspectives or practices, you may be
unhealthily inflexible. But I digress…<o:p></o:p></div>
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When we first got back to the States, we were running on empty—physically,
mentally, and emotionally. As such, we quickly learned which things “cost” the
most in terms of energy or anxiety: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul>
<img style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 0em; margin-left: 1em;" border="0" height="59" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbasOoim4tfJAAwE6LhqoihBHz075wiNLmmVk-JK6uQ3G8rSugRu0s4n7QFIZbuED9Q8nipnQHDKR53erW7V9Eb9JiP9RjGCFRnwwX5pDKqYjxji8u_-TncFGaZ1iCw_VWABUw48ExBg/s320/overwhelmart.jpg" width="320">
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">interacting with people we did not know well</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">being in large public places</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">choosing between a large amount of seemingly
equal options</span></li>
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<span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">Being overwhelmed </span><i style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">all the time</i><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -0.25in;">
was a weird phenomenon for us, and you may not fully understand it if you
haven’t experienced it personally. It’s like the emotional version of being
sore in unexpected ways after a new kind of intense exercise, but in this case,
“being sore” means having trouble making eye contact with people, being
completely incapable of answering the question, “What would you like for
dinner?” and having a lot of anxiety even thinking about leaving the house. Going
to church on a regular basis almost seemed out of the question.</span><br>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The more we talk with <a href="http://www.stillnotthereyet.com/culture/decision-fatigue/">former
missionaries</a> or <a href="http://www.rockyreentry.com/tired-feels-like-theme-song/">read their
blogs</a>, the more we learn that these are common experiences for those
returning from out of the country. And there’s one thing especially that
everyone like us agrees is the absolute worst: Wal-Mart.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2016/08/re-entry-anxiety-shopping.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-81003127909032375762016-02-25T16:09:00.001-06:002016-02-25T16:12:54.502-06:00on setting the microwave clock (and other unhelpful solutions)<p>We got back last week from a 10-day trip to Nicaragua. The microwave clock at our friends' house where we stayed was consistently off by several hours, which naturally bothered me a great deal. I fixed it once, and when a few days later it was again wrong by an unreasonable amount of time, it made me laugh rather than annoyed. Here's why:
<p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVecOFjOueIsLaRCx2MoZdsePOYnNSyIX8OylzGbUTVEVWp53CrzxAHOtoVBe-BIB3jsDfwtDDlyi3vM98mXBATzXiHL3J9zo3hQK710bC6hH8cp2O_NKgWN1n-H_iFN_P3J5IURUDMQ/s1600/microwave.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/AVvXsEiVecOFjOueIsLaRCx2MoZdsePOYnNSyIX8OylzGbUTVEVWp53CrzxAHOtoVBe-BIB3jsDfwtDDlyi3vM98mXBATzXiHL3J9zo3hQK710bC6hH8cp2O_NKgWN1n-H_iFN_P3J5IURUDMQ/s320/microwave.JPG"></a></div>For the first year that we lived in Nicaragua, we shared an apartment with my brother and his wife and the first of their three children. (They had been living in country for about a year and a half by that point.) In addition to the learning curve of sharing living space with others, there was a much more stressful learning curve of adjusting to culture and climate. Every difference between Nicaragua and the States stood out sharply, and if I’m honest, these differences seemed poorly planned, inefficient, and sweaty*. I always wanted to shake my head and say, "What a crazy, backwards country!" </p></p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2016/02/on-setting-microwave-clock-and-other.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-41941633878105212015-10-05T17:02:00.001-05:002015-10-06T18:07:50.991-05:00to honk or not to honk (is not really the question)<p align="justify"><img title="no honking" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 0px 0px 5px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="no honking" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-h87sHBPdEV4/VhLzef86uCI/AAAAAAAAGDc/ffUEbSNI9Bw/no%252520honking%25255B26%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="137" align="right" height="210"></p> <p>Since getting back to the States five weeks ago, we’ve driven about 5000 miles, seeing family & friends and attending a couple of missions & nonprofit workshops. This adds up to 80-100 hours in the car so far, and I’m having trouble unlearning my honking habits learned in Nicaragua. Back in the tropics, it would be unusual to drive half an hour without honking at <em>least</em> twice. An American visitor rode with me once and told me that he hadn’t honked as much in the last 10 years as I had done in that single day. And I hadn’t been aware that I had honked much. It’s become a reflex. <p>Honking happens a lot more in Nicaragua because it has a wider range of communication, which I’ll generalize with these five phrases: </p> </p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/10/to-honk-or-not-to-honk-is-not-really.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-42010704588652123252015-07-31T20:58:00.000-05:002016-08-02T16:30:28.630-05:00A multitude of lasts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNd0u5gjFT1i9ozlrUMYRXEcw8izEXmZxAYs9od9qDJWqjjnr650JPuoRxWRDkuVVgfDYWyJzlX8_9RAXJv4o0_fK8SLykorGi-XptKPsUc5yRjU84lc0X_EYr11onnPKEYZyCHCjGQ/s1600/Screenshot_2015-07-31-20-51-18.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: .2em; margin-right: 2em;"><img height="190px" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinNd0u5gjFT1i9ozlrUMYRXEcw8izEXmZxAYs9od9qDJWqjjnr650JPuoRxWRDkuVVgfDYWyJzlX8_9RAXJv4o0_fK8SLykorGi-XptKPsUc5yRjU84lc0X_EYr11onnPKEYZyCHCjGQ/s1600/Screenshot_2015-07-31-20-51-18.png"></a></div>We’re into our last month in Nicaragua, which means that each day that passes and each item that we sell or give away increases how much we talk about the “last time” we do something in Nicaragua. A lot of these are trivial and carry little to no emotion, like the last time that we:<br>
<ul>
<li>use our 6-foot ladder (a few weeks ago) </li>
<li>do drinks, popcorn and two movie tickets at the VIP for $15 total (maybe last week, maybe next week?) </li>
<li>make queso (a few months ago) </li>
<li>buy cat litter at PriceSmart (two days ago) </li>
</ul><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/07/a-multitude-of-lasts.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-30414603967511012212015-04-29T18:18:00.001-05:002015-04-29T21:00:37.859-05:00Two Year Kidney-versary<div align="justify">It's hard to believe that two years has past since I had my kidney transplant. <a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-k8QKb_eM7SI/VUFmmlleDiI/AAAAAAAADpI/WX0eirNgxnE/s1600-h/IMG_0009%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_0009" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 15px 0px 15px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_0009" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Y4z7uZD-B6g/VUFmolkSeDI/AAAAAAAADpQ/o7pOMi_6T4o/IMG_0009_thumb%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="180" align="right" height="258"></a><br>
<br>
I remember waking up that morning, April 29th, 2013 after completing my last night of dialysis. I unplugged from the machine that had attempted to clean the toxins out of my blood, but really could only do a mediocre job at best. I was quite sick at that point and longing for days of health and normalcy, which I hoped would come after the transplant. I arrived at the hospital as Amy was in surgery to have her kidney removed. I changed into my gown and waited. Friends and family were there beside me, as they had been throughout the last two years of sickness. The nurse came, let me know that Amy’s surgery <a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-yQWlHBYr_Ng/VUFmraXq9FI/AAAAAAAADpY/34YhpJgASQU/s1600-h/IMG_0180%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_0180" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: left; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="IMG_0180" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Vibf9xcQdLM/VUFms7UFfPI/AAAAAAAADpg/sKcsC2NiQy0/IMG_0180_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="261" align="left" height="195"></a>was going well and that they were ready for me.<br>
<br>
I remember waking up several hours later, sore, confused, swollen, but hopeful. Both surgeries had gone great. I remember at 5:00 the next morning, a nurse came in, needing to weigh me. (I still don’t understand why you would wake someone that early in the morning for something that certainly could have waited a few hours!) I could barely stand, as it seemed that every muscle in the lower half of my body had ceased to function.</div><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/04/two-year-kidney-versary.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-4988702604545078542015-04-27T17:11:00.001-05:002015-10-05T22:38:39.399-05:00will miss/won’t miss: roadside vulcanización booths<i>As we prepare to move away from Nicaragua (read <a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/03/leaving-but-staying.html" target="_blank"><u>this blog post</u></a> if this is news for you), I frequently think about what will change in our “new life” in the States. On good days, I think a lot about what I'll miss from Nicaragua. On rough days, I think much more about what I won't miss. The truth is that what I'll miss and won't miss are </i><i>frequently</i><i> elements of the same thing. I think this is why new life phases seem to always be so bittersweet. So without further ado...</i>
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<br><a href="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-FTwHjbCWgnA/VT60IgdF4iI/AAAAAAAAEUA/OF3_EsYUPtM/s1600-h/vulcanizacion%25255B9%25255D.jpg" target="_blank"><img title="vulcanizacion" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 10px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="vulcanizacion" src="http://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zUqCkxVzjBw/VT60K14uFNI/AAAAAAAAEUI/VSuXDCwqbVI/vulcanizacion_thumb%25255B12%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="296" align="right" height="289"></a><strong>Vulcanización <strong>(tire repair) </strong>booths </strong>
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<br><u>What I’ll miss:</u>
<br>If you get a flat tire in the city—usually from running over a nail—you’re rarely more than a half-mile away from a roadside booth that repairs tires. More often than not, they’re little ramshackle booths made out of scrap metal, and they nearly always advertise their presence by painting the words <em>se vulcaniza </em>or <em>vulcanización</em> on an old tire posted just off the nearest major street. (As a side note, I don’t believe any literal vulcanization happens at these booths. It is just understood that they work with tires). <a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/04/will-misswont-miss-roadside.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-56034491169173444242015-04-20T08:30:00.000-05:002015-10-05T22:38:39.405-05:00will miss/won't miss: showers<i>As we prepare to move away from Nicaragua (read <a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/03/leaving-but-staying.html" target="_blank"><u>this blog post</u></a> if this is news for you), I frequently think about what will change in our “new life” in the States. On good days, I think a lot about what I'll miss from Nicaragua. On rough days, I think much more about what I won't miss. The truth is that what I'll miss and won't miss are </i><i>frequently</i><i> elements of the same thing. I think this is why new life phases seem to always be so bittersweet. So without further ado...</i><br>
<br>
<b>Showers</b><br>
<u>What I won't miss:</u><br>
We don't have hot water in our bathrooms. Most Americans here who do have it have what's affectionately called a <a href="https://www.google.com.ni/search?q=widow+maker+shower&espv=2&biw=1309&bih=660&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=ZOMyVaGzLtbboATwqICwBA&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#q=widow+maker+shower&tbm=isch&pws=0" target="_blank"><u>widow maker shower head</u></a>, but we never got any installed in our current house. I've taken a cold shower every day for the last year and a half, but it hasn't gotten any less shocking (though I have accustomed to the cold-water shave). Mix that with widely varying water pressure and you have anywhere from a dribble to a sandblasting stream of surprisingly icy water.<br><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/04/will-misswont-miss-showers.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-54000911049730432402015-04-14T20:25:00.001-05:002015-04-14T21:11:15.334-05:00One of those daysToday was one of those days. The kind where one thing goes wrong and every other thing follows suit. It’s like all the things were getting together and ganging up on us, knowing if they tried hard enough, they would conquer us.
<br> <br>
Tomorrow is our anniversary. Eight wonderful, difficult, amazing, challenging, blessed years. Full of ups and downs (mostly related to our circumstances, not our relationship). We were going to celebrate by going to dinner tonight. But then all the things happened. <br>
<br>
We found out the car repair is going to cost at least ten times as much as we thought (yes – no exaggeration – ten!). Our neighborhood kids behaved terribly for us and our team who came to put on a really fun VBS for them this week. And then there is the heat. Which causes the sweat. Which never stops. Which saps all the energy. And all the little spaces in the day that weren’t filled with sweating profusely, being overwhelmed about the car or frustrated by the kids who were running away as we tried to talk them into behaving and listening—<em>shut up and listen to the message about God’s love!—</em>all those moments were filled with smaller things made bigger by the weight of the rest of the day.<a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/04/one-of-those-days.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-26769221815527651142015-02-28T17:06:00.000-06:002015-03-03T11:54:42.954-06:00Leaving but staying<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It's already been nearly a year and a half since we moved back to Nicaragua from Oklahoma. As usual with the passage of time, it has felt simultaneously both shorter and longer than what it has been! As many of you already knew, when we came back to Nicaragua in Fall 2013, we did not intend to stay indefinitely (for reasons I'll explain in a little bit). We decided that a two-year commitment would be long enough to be beneficial and short enough to be do-able. <br>
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With this being said, we would like to inform you that we have officially decided to move back to the States this coming September (2015)! An equally important fact is that we will NOT be leaving our work with One by One at that time. <br>
<a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Om0_Q1qzCaA/VPTs7TRyTuI/AAAAAAAADmU/pvLN_6ccT9Q/s1600-h/2009-2015%25255B12%25255D.jpg"><img alt="2009-2015" border="0" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-WOrP9XXq98U/VPTs8I9ajHI/AAAAAAAADmc/fALe8-0Kmoo/2009-2015_thumb%25255B9%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" height="180" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: block; float: none; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="2009-2015" width="455"></a> <br>
Now we're sure you have a lot of questions, so we've tried to anticipate them the best we know how:<br>
<br>
</div><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2015/03/leaving-but-staying.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-86984008110806233372014-12-12T19:40:00.001-06:002015-01-09T20:23:56.547-06:00Ruth: a woman who loved well<p>This afternoon I learned the heartbreaking news that Ruth Graham passed <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-vg-LWXYcYis/VIuZGWcN-HI/AAAAAAAADgg/X62yt7sOp8M/s1600-h/Ruth%252520and%252520Ethan%2525202%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img title="Ruth and Ethan 2" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px" border="0" alt="Ruth and Ethan 2" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-VIXCHkBbnk8/VIuZIVCtccI/AAAAAAAADgo/w9UKQFLR8sU/Ruth%252520and%252520Ethan%2525202_thumb%25255B13%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="234" align="right" height="312"></a>away. Though we didn’t know each other incredibly well, Ruth has forever impacted my life. We met briefly before Chase and I moved to Nicaragua, but we really got to know her via e-mail when she and her 3-year-old son Ethan began to send us e-mails. First, we received this one. </p> <blockquote> <p>6/22/2010</p> <p>Dear Julie and Chase, <p>Hello to you from OK! My son and and I have only met you once briefly just before you left. (I graduated from JBU, if that helps!) We read your emails together and talk about how you help the children in Nicaragua. <p>Ethan, 3, has a couple of questions for you! </p></p></p></blockquote><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/12/ruth-woman-who-loved-well.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-37472374532826287752014-12-08T00:16:00.001-06:002014-12-09T13:16:47.238-06:00Observations on some Christmas songs II<p>This second installment of seasonal music criticism has been a long time coming, but it’s finally here just in time for the holidays! (You can see my first post on the topic <u><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2011/12/observations-on-some-christmas-songs.html" target="_blank">here</a></u>.) I understand that not all Christmas music <i>has</i> to be excellent—or even make sense! —I just expect that the music that achieves a degree of popularity does so because it’s actually good. This expectation is met with disappointment time after time. <p>This year, I take issue with the following songs: <p><b>#1. Last Christmas</b>. In addition to being more repetitive—and less creative—than a country song, this whiny George Michael number proves that the only thing a song needs to do to be called a “Christmas song” is include the word <i>Christmas</i>. Nothing else about the content of the song even hints at other things associated with Christmas (Santa, Jesus, snow, presents, December, etc.). If you changed the word <i>Christmas </i>to <i>summer</i>, for example (“Last summer, I gave you my heart…”), you would lose nothing except an annoying song at the end of the year. Can we do this, please?</p> </p></p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/12/observations-on-some-christmas-songs.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-84314928643599824422014-09-01T22:28:00.001-05:002015-04-21T16:11:57.580-05:00Old stories: our first apartment (Spring 2007)<p><p><em>About a year ago, Julie and I decided that it could be really fun for us if we began writing down the stories of fun and/or significant memories in our lives. This is the only one we've done so far, and it was recently.</em> <p>In the month or two leading up to our wedding, we shopped around town for an apartment that would be our first home together. <img title="Google Street View of apt 406" style="float: right; margin: 2px 5px 2px 0px; display: inline" alt="Google Street View of apt 406" align="right" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/lEBU-wzWrJeE3gMGuHjEsCwvLYDG5KgSAcCTTPS08_3St6RdmJ4Hx_RaBDTXs6gHoYtJgkZ9NB5g5Vn8zwJ9bnfdJcijZRKcI8DRPCNIOO8Id7yNZ2j6x3Kf7-d6X8TZqw" width="323" height="218">I think we visited about six or seven places. Our standards were the following: <ul><li> <p>Should cost around $450-$500 per month</p><li> <p>Should preferably be on the east side of town to be closer to all of our friends. (At the time it seemed that anything more than three miles away was rarely worth driving to since it took around 20 minutes to go through the 10 poorly-timed stoplights and painfully slow speed limits you would surely encounter along the way.)</p><li> <p>Should be free of any kind of notorious infestation. This ruled out even looking at Essex Square (bedbugs) and Sooner Crossing (roaches).</p></li>
<p></p></li></li></ul></p></p></p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/09/old-stories-our-first-apartment-spring.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-21911824543161012572014-07-06T18:49:00.001-05:002014-07-07T11:03:48.777-05:00budgeting in two currencies: the perfectionist's nightmare<p align="justify">The fact that Julie and I are both detail-oriented people means that tracking our expenses is a relatively conflict-free part of our marriage–we both agree on the need for accuracy in maintaining a budget. <img style="float: right; margin: 0px 5px; display: inline" align="right" src="http://www.exchange-rates.org/Chart.aspx?iso_code=NIO&base_iso_code=USD&mode=G&filter=90" width="357" height="214">The fact that I love Microsoft Excel makes record-keeping fairly uncomplicated*. But the fact that we both tend towards perfectionism makes budgeting in two different currencies really irritating. The constantly shifting exchange rate** between the Nicaraguan córdoba (C$) and the US dollar means that complete accuracy is virtually unattainable. Discerning the absolute value of money starts to feel like a philosophical question.</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/07/budgeting-in-two-currencies.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-79373595594693476772014-05-31T00:44:00.001-05:002014-05-31T00:44:59.382-05:00picking our battles with the ants<p>We live with ants. They're in the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom….actually, I can't think of a room they <em>aren't </em>in except the pantry, which is really quite nice of them. </p> <p>There are two main classifications: little and big. </p> <p>The little ants actually come in a wide variety, from "biting" to "non-biting," "see-through butts" to "all black," etc. Some people even classify them by what they eat, but what they all have in common is that they can set up shop <em>anywhere,</em> and they come after the food on your counters and your plates. We've found nests underneath tiles, inside power outlets, inside door frames, inside picture frames, in the small space between the table legs and the table top, inside our car door, and somewhere inside our car A/C system. Basically, if there's a gap of half a millimeter, little ants can build their home there. </p> <div align="center"><object width="560" height="315"><param name="movie" value="//www.youtube.com/v/smAVKrgecg4?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="//www.youtube.com/v/smAVKrgecg4?hl=en_US&version=3&rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="560" height="315" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"></object></div> <a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/05/picking-our-battles-with-ants.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-17288315866947211782014-04-29T23:57:00.001-05:002014-05-01T11:35:11.527-05:00One Year Kidney-versary!<p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-4nLBFGJPYK0/U2CCpnBVenI/AAAAAAAADGk/LON5VnIfLLs/s1600-h/IMG_0180%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_0180" style="border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 5px; border-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 7px" border="0" alt="IMG_0180" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-RUyL_J8s7Kw/U2CCqvhrxII/AAAAAAAADGo/DFvWceMdjdg/IMG_0180_thumb%25255B8%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="212" align="left" height="190"></a></p>
<p>Well, it’s been a year now since my life drastically changed – for the better, of course. Life is so “normal” now that it’s easy to forget that I ever had kidney problems to begin with. With the exception of continuing to take multiple pills daily and have regular lab work and doctor’s appointments, life looks very much like it did prior to January 2011 when my kidneys mutually decided their time was nearing an end.</p>
<p>Here are some of those drastic changes: </p>
<ul> <li>I haven’t thrown up at all in the last year. For some, this is no major accomplishment. But I had spent the previous two years being nauseous more days than not. And more days than not, it didn’t stop there. The number of times I threw up was definitely in the hundreds during those two years. This probably goes unspoken, but I definitely don’t miss this.</li></ul><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/04/one-year-kidney-versary.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-25422339503865772542014-02-17T14:16:00.001-06:002014-02-17T15:03:45.010-06:00what my stupid stairs taught me about life<p>Our house has two stories, which means it has stairs. Every time we're faced with the prospect of moving (which has been six times in nearly seven years of marriage), I declare that I would like to live in place with no stairs. Stairs make the moving in/out process far worse than it would be without stairs. In daily life, the term "all the way upstairs" or "all the way downstairs" translates to "not worth getting." </p><p>In the six places we've lived in our marriage, however, <em>none</em> of them have been stair-less. We've had bare concrete stairs, concrete stairs covered in tile, bare wooden stairs, and wooden stairs covered in carpet. Some have been creaky, some have been dangerously steep, some claustrophobia-inducing, some "awkward," some cracked and falling apart. In other words, I don't tend to think kindly on stairs<sup><b>1</b></sup>. The stairs in our current home are no exception. Let me walk you through a journey up them:</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/02/what-my-stupid-stairs-taught-me-about.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-90967871239984359802014-01-31T21:10:00.001-06:002014-01-31T21:13:36.550-06:00A small community just outside León<p>At the moment the two of us are on a business trip of our own design. About two years ago, One by One began a series of classes designed to train church leaders (including some of our own) for ministry. I (Chase) got to be a part of this by sharing what I had learned about kids' ministry through experience and through being taught, as well as concepts I had wrestled with for awhile. It was crazy hard, but I also liked it. In any case, two of the leaders involved launched a kids' and youth program just outside León, a big city about two hours away from Managua. <a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-4N3v3p4G7bc/UuxlOIiVBGI/AAAAAAAAENA/d2BtE6l3oiU/s1600-h/DSCN1441%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="DSCN1441" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: left; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 3px 5px 0px 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="DSCN1441" align="left" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-JflX3nYxFrM/UuxlTLlHidI/AAAAAAAAENI/SGAmcYE9g7E/DSCN1441_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="211" height="158"></a>Julie and I have wanted for a long time to come out to León to visit with the leaders, encourage them, and learn from them some of the things that they do with their ministry that Camino de Vida and other churches could benefit from. Julie has also wanted to scout for new ways and places for teams to come and serve.</p> <p>Our "business trip" coincided nicely with Woodcreek Church having a well-digging team in León with Living Water International. Well, I say it "coincided," but really we built our plans around their trip. We were able to stop by the well site to visit with them for a couple hours and see the well nearly completed before we went to the church.</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/01/a-small-community-just-outside-leon.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-1967250416333052812014-01-18T15:34:00.001-06:002014-01-18T23:04:31.739-06:00Saturday Mornings<p>Well, we haven’t kept our promise (two blogs per month), but we are hoping that if we show you cute pictures of kids, you won’t be <em>too</em> mad at us. </p><p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-0eEcxfdOeGs/Utry3AHEtcI/AAAAAAAAC9g/R482JZc9hg0/s1600-h/DSCN1354%25255B9%25255D.jpg"><img title="DSCN1354" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: none; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin-left: auto; display: block; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px; margin-right: auto" border="0" alt="DSCN1354" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-MHN3zKEUz1g/Utry5SZVX3I/AAAAAAAAC9o/SGRGyCfmqjk/DSCN1354_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="500" height="375"></a></p><p>We just thought we’d give you a picture (or a few) of what we do on Saturday mornings. To put it short, we have a lot of fun. </p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2014/01/saturday-mornings.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-63599564680167658492013-12-31T14:37:00.001-06:002013-12-31T14:38:48.050-06:00a portrait of my grandfather<p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-MNOY8Xt8kvU/UsMq6GdGSKI/AAAAAAAAELc/pS95DxjU76Q/s1600-h/scan0065%25255B2%25255D.jpg"><img title="scan0065" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 5px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="scan0065" align="right" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Gb7clzDjE28/UsMq7BxXCAI/AAAAAAAAELk/LCEtVGYxjxk/scan0065_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="154" height="240"></a>This past Sunday, Julie and I attended the funeral for 91 year-0ld Frank Bales, my grandfather, or "Papa" as we called him. I really liked him, and I wish you could have known him. It seems that just about everybody who did was glad they had, so I'll tell you a bit about him.</p><p>For all of my life Papa wore hearing aids, which meant that you had to speak loudly to him. His own voice didn't really need amplification, as it was deep and booming. He smelled like Old Spice and Folgers coffee. He always wore a gold watch face-down on his right wrist. As a child, this made me feel a special kinship with him since I also wore my watch on my right arm. (I don't know what his reason was, but mine was that the cheap watches I wore gave me rashes on my left wrist but not on my right.)</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/12/a-portrait-of-my-grandfather.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-85188568412985514302013-11-30T18:59:00.001-06:002013-12-20T11:49:04.558-06:00Thanksgiving! Also, gnats.<p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-TUrsGzMcsV0/UpqJ5LXIyfI/AAAAAAAAEKc/DIDVKEB38Dg/s1600-h/image%25255B3%25255D.png"><img title="image" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; margin: 0px 5px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="image" align="right" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-bDb7nKCU0SE/UpqJ5yhibnI/AAAAAAAAEKk/6eyL1Hi7l3E/image_thumb%25255B6%25255D.png?imgmax=800" width="240" height="145"></a>We spent Thanksgiving with my brother and his family along with some mutual friends of ours at a guest house on Lake Nicaragua. Lake Nicaragua is about 40 miles wide and 100 miles long. In other words, it looks and feels like a fresh-water ocean. It's so big that there are actually towns built on two conjoined volcanoes in the middle. It currently connects to the Atlantic via the San Juan River, and there are plans to connect it to the Pacific as well to give Nicaragua its own canal.</p><p></p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/11/thanksgiving-also-gnats.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-23594530172282925632013-10-21T13:47:00.001-05:002013-10-21T15:15:20.797-05:00Moving, Geckos and Frogs<p>Well, we made it! We moved back to Nicaragua one week ago today. We got keys to our new place the next morning and spent much of the last week moving in. This was our 6th move in 6 1/2 years of marriage. Somehow we always manage to forget exactly how much work moving can be. But we are reminded (on average) every year. </p> <p>Two moves ago, we moved from our shared apartment with Chase’s brother’s family to an apartment we shared with his sister. We discovered not long after moving in that we shared our bedroom/bathroom with an unfortunate gecko whose life came to an end when a previous tenant smushed him in the doorway. Since there are probably at least one million tasks to do when moving to a new place, cleaning the poor gecko out of the door frame just was not priority #1. Thus, he remained…for 6 months. To see a video of us eventually removing said gecko, visit <u><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2011/05/ashamed-to-admit-it-but.html" target="_blank">this blog post</a>.</u></p>
<p>
<div align="center"><a target="_blank" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-gcdSYpg14aY/UmV2YNji7FI/AAAAAAAAC5s/P4pZSzB-Xbk/s1600-h/DSCN0207%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="DSCN0207" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="DSCN0207" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-S-liQiSTmug/UmV2Z1ENxQI/AAAAAAAAC50/H-bR9XSucPk/DSCN0207_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="255" height="191"></a><a target="_blank" href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-icCgUrO82xI/UmV2mWHpxWI/AAAAAAAAC58/LnvoDerplRE/s1600-h/DSCN0210%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img title="DSCN0210" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="DSCN0210" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-F6BvOvzkxQA/UmV2psJqaLI/AAAAAAAAC6E/Lg1PZk2nKHw/DSCN0210_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="255" height="191"></a></div> </p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/10/moving-geckos-and-frogs.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-83656722327441980032013-09-30T15:29:00.001-05:002013-10-01T10:03:34.288-05:00the gospel according to julie's third kidney<p><em>This is something I've been kicking around in my head for months now. As with any physical-world metaphor of spiritual-world happenings, it falls short—there are many things about dialysis and transplantation that do not parallel salvation. But while the pitch of the story may be off-key, it hums along with the tune of redemption. </em></p><p>Julie had a condition which would end in death. Externally, this was hard to tell. Even for her, it was frequently hard to believe that anything was seriously wrong inside. It would have been easy to continue to ignore the signs and symptoms since they weren't present all the time. But the simple fact was this: Julie was sick and wasn't getting better. </p><p>She tried being good. Per doctors' instructions, she "avoided" foods high in sodium; she "avoided" foods high in cholesterol. She "cut back" on protein consumption in general. Sure—she wasn't always consistent, but nobody's perfect. Besides, it didn't seem that to err in her food choices really changed things one way or another. And in a real sense, it didn't. At best, good dietary choices made her feel a little bit better as the inevitable came.</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-gospel-according-to-julie-third.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-51337730834905623222013-09-11T16:26:00.001-05:002013-10-01T10:37:10.777-05:00(Overdue) Update: Bibles for KidsIn May of 2012, we started a fundraiser. Our goal was to raise $5,000 so we could buy about 500 Bibles to give to kids involved in our ministry. The response was <i>overwhelming</i> and we ended up raising $11,460 – over double what we had hoped for! Clearly, God wants to get His word into the hands of His people. We dreamed too small and were amazed by the generosity of the body of Christ. As a result, we were able to give Bibles not only to kids, but also to youth and adults.<br>
<a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-w1wlxUbZu4Y/UjDf4zzDcHI/AAAAAAAAC4Q/LSZyj5As2-Q/s1600-h/bibles%2525201%25255B14%25255D.jpg"><img alt="bibles 1" border="0" height="270" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3WmkzEFSvU8/UjDf5Q0-lJI/AAAAAAAAC4Y/M9zbBUxXyV8/bibles%2525201_thumb%25255B22%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="bibles 1" width="250"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-SywtteKLkVQ/UjDf56pvw5I/AAAAAAAAC4g/Oxn13REAAr8/s1600-h/bibles%2525202%25255B11%25255D.jpg"><img alt="bibles 2" border="0" height="271" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-kT8vbG6TX9Q/UjDf6YGXK2I/AAAAAAAAC4o/L026TqPvmrk/bibles%2525202_thumb%25255B16%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" title="bibles 2" width="250"></a><br><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/09/update-bibles-for-kids.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Juliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02930180834169463751noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-52193610049723416032013-08-13T08:00:00.000-05:002013-12-31T14:48:13.974-06:00Home away: the year in pictures<img title="DSCN2479 (1)" style="border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; background-image: none; border-bottom-width: 0px; float: right; padding-top: 0px; padding-left: 0px; display: inline; padding-right: 0px; border-top-width: 0px" border="0" alt="DSCN2479 (1)" align="right" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-UULxnLUmxCE/UgnFvwUs1jI/AAAAAAAAD8A/IsA1CA8oR-M/DSCN2479-18.jpg?imgmax=800" width="126" height="108">This past week we finally committed to a date to return to Nicaragua: October 14th! We bought one-way tickets, and now just have to figure out how best to prepare over the next 62 days.<br>Also noteworthy is the fact that today marks exactly one year of us being back in the States. On August 13th 2012, we arrived at DFW airport more than a little tired, more than a little sad, more than a little uncertain about our future, but also more than a little loved and welcomed by our family and friends. Thank you.<br>The following is a brief picture tour of the highlights and important events of the last 365 days to recap where we've been and how God has blessed us.<br>In going through all of our pictures, I realized that we don't tend to take pictures of ordinary things or of all the people who are important to us.<br> <a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/08/home-away-year-in-pictures.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2478472538855646308.post-4959752640425186292013-06-13T16:09:00.000-05:002016-08-02T16:27:16.404-05:00the significance of insignificance: tornadoes, Hur, and non-profits<p>I want to tell you a story. Some of this story is currently well-known, but I'll add a little bit to it that you may not have known: </p><p>On May 20th Moore, OK was hit with a devastating tornado which broke records in wind speed and property destruction. Somewhere between $3-$5 billion was estimated in damage. Educational programs told us that the best of houses collapse to winds of just over 100mph. This tornado had winds of over 200mph. We watched horrified as it struck hospitals, houses, and elementary schools. The 2-3 mile wide <a title="Google Crisis Map" href="http://google.org/crisismap/2013-oklahoma-tornado?hl=en&llbox=35.34083%2C35.30203%2C-97.47481%2C-97.5657&t=CUSTOM&layers=9%2C7%2C11%2C8%2Clayer2%2Clayer11%2C10%3A100" target="_blank"><u>strip of damage</u></a> quickly became referred to as Ground Zero. </p><p>In the hours and days afterwards, thousands of people flooded to the disaster area to help in any way they could. Average people were digging through piles of rubble to find survivors and their pets. Others gave rides to those whose houses were obliterated. </p><p><img title="Posted by TylerMenge on ireport.cnn.com" style="float: left; margin: 10px 10px 10px 0px; display: inline" alt="Posted by TylerMenge on ireport.cnn.com" align="left" src="http://i.cdn.turner.com/ireport/sm/prod/2013/05/20/WE00954245/2483545/IMG1399jpg-2483545_p9.jpg" width="215" height="162">But actually, way <em>too many</em> people than were needed went to Ground Zero—so much so that emergency vehicles couldn't enter and exit. First responders had little room to work; police shut down the area and all the news channels <em>pleaded</em> for people to stay away from the disaster area. There were so many helpers (and people wanting pictures) that they were actually causing harm.</p><a href="http://chaseandjulie.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-significance-of-insignificance.html#more">Click for full post »</a>Chase Russellhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07083489970197349437noreply@blogger.com3