Tropical “Autumn”

Seasons in Central America aren’t defined so much by the designations familiar to North Americans of “spring”, “summer”, “autumn”, and “winter” as much as they are by the descriptions “rainy” or “dry”. Likewise, there aren’t arbitrary dates to change the seasons. For example, the rainy season doesn’t begin on March 21st (the first day of spring)—it begins when it suddenly starts to rain 5-7 days a week, which is usually towards the end of April. This is hard for me to wrap my gringo brain around, as I desperately want to call late September through early December “Fall”. My favorite month in the States has always been October, and it made me a little sad to miss it for the first time.

Ah, October: when (at least in Texas and Oklahoma) you can leave the windows open all day and the A/C or heater off. The whole month feels like a vacation. Julie usually goes crazy making pumpkin-flavored treats, and you can use the slight crispness in the evening air as an excuse to build a fire or at least make some hot chocolate. Sometimes the leaves even change color before they die.

Here, you leave the windows open all day all year round, would never build a fire even if you had a fireplace, and if your trees are changing colors, they’ve got problems.

We are now coming to the end of the rainy season. October, which historically is the rainiest month of the year, actually saw less rain this year than the months before it, and now that we’re in November, we don’t see rain more than once a week (if that).

I couldn’t tell you the meteorological reasons for it, but we’re also enjoying some cooler weather. The humidity is down, and the temperature hasn’t been getting above 90—at night it may even get below 70. For locals who are used to it here, anything below 75 is cold! And we only have more to look forward to as December is usually cooler than November.

Pumpkin Sunday

At some point in the somewhat recent past, I developed a love for all things pumpkin. I think it started with something delicious that Whitney made years ago, but I can’t be sure. Anyways, pumpkins are just almost impossible to find in Nicaragua. Or when you do find them, they cost a bajillion dollars (or maybe $25, but still!) I sulked for much of October, mourning my new life without pumpkin, but THEN! Then, we went to the store on Halloween and the pumpkins were marked down to $3! I made the cashier double-check the price, and it was for real! We bought one and spent the next week or so deciding what to do with it. I wanted to carve it, but Halloween was over, so we had to get a little more creative than that. We got home from church on Sunday and got to work. Chase cut it up into large chunks to microwave it. [Since there is no A/C, the oven works a bit like a furnace, so we try to avoid using it in the hot afternoons!] This is what it looked like in its microwavable form. We did that for about 15 minutes or so, but we found that steaming it on the stove worked better.
Meanwhile, I focused on the seeds. I found 2 good recipes – one salty and one sweet, so I created a little foil divider on our toaster oven pan to separate them. The salty (on the right) turned out great, but the sweet (on the left) was a disaster, as I failed to pay close attention to the recipe and turned them all into one large-brown-burned-clumpy-pumpkin seed-mess. It was quite sad as I only had 2/3 of a cup to begin with; now I was down to 1/3 of a cup.
After Chase was done steaming the pumpkin, he removed the peel and put the chunks in our handy Vita-Mix to turn it into pumpkin puree for future use in fantastic pumpkin recipes.
These are the seeds after they baked for 45 minutes. On the left: about to be eaten. On the right: about to be ruined.
And here are the 4 2-cup bags of pumpkin we ended up with. The top bag was only about 1 1/2 cups, so Chase ended up making pumpkin butter out of it. It is delicious!
And this. This is a present brought back from the States from Kristina. For which I love her a little bit more than I already did. I had it in my coffee this morning and it speaks fall to me (along with the refreshingly cool weather outside) better than anything else could (besides maybe a Pumpkin Spice Latte from Starbucks)! Thanks Kristina!

Global Leadership Summit

I love conferences. I just do. Passionate speakers, powerful worship, inspired learning. Sign me up. When I was an intern at Wildwood in 2006, I attended the Willow Creek Leadership Summit with some of the staff and elders. I was with one of my best friends, Abby, and that made the experience oh-so-much better. We were both in the “What am I going to do with my life?” stage and I’m pretty sure we figured out as many times as there were speakers what the right answer was. At one point, Bono had me convinced that I was moving to Africa to get involved with the AIDS crisis. I’m not kidding.

While I was an intern, Chase asked me to marry him, so the question became “What are we going to do with our lives?” Fast forward 4 years, and here we are in Nicaragua (and celebrating one year of living here today!) Well, today and tomorrow we have the privilege of attending the same conference with the One by One/Camino de Vida staff and to no one’s surprise, I’m loving it (though I have to admit I’m missing Abby quite a bit.)

We heard 4 incredible speakers today.

• Bill Hybels spoke about how as leaders, we need to move people from the present reality “here” to the preferred future “there”, and how we cannot do that without hearing the voice of God.
• Jim Collins spoke on the Stockdale Paradox and how greatness is largely a matter of discipline.
• Adam Hamilton addressed the issue of when leaders fall, how none of us are exempt, and what to do to avoid falling. [Interestingly, he also spoke about grace which has been on my mind recently. He said that the final word of the church must always be grace, not judgment. That we serve the Lord who is friends with prostitutes, thieves and sinners. He said the gospel is for sinners and no one is beyond redemption. Well said.]
• Christine Cane spoke last and WOW. She spoke so fast that I couldn’t keep up, and her words were pure gold. She spoke about leading from a place of hope and how hope compels us to go into the darkness. Her story is heart-wrenching and powerful, but her faith in the Redeemer is remarkable. This one I’m going to purchase and listen to again. It’s that good.

    Here I am with one of our co-workers, Ileana. She’s pretty fantastic.

Paul, Jeremy, Yeril and Katie. We walked over to the mall for lunch. We had Papa Johns, and it was  delicious!

At the mall, there is a “tickle” wall. When you walk up to the wall, all the hands move towards you – perhaps attempting to tickle you? Or maybe it wants you to tickle the wall? I’m not really sure, but Paul and Dan, naturally, were enjoying this odd form of technology.

Glorious Slayer of Beasts and Vermin

With the small fortune of store credit to Bed Bath & Beyond we were gifted for our wedding, we purchased an OXO brand flyswatter.* This was a relatively extravagant purchase at $6 or $7, but its length and durability made it an irresistible addition to our lives.  And let me just say, I have been glad of it ever since.

Now let’s get something straight: at some time or other we’ve all bought or at least used the cheapest flyswatters that money can buy and are acutely aware of their inherent weaknesses.  Our swatter is nothing of the sort.  It is not the kind where you swing and the flimsy wire-hanger handle bends, nor the kind where the business end is so floppy you may as well use paper, but the kind you can hold with both hands if need be, the kind you could pull a muscle without damaging, the kind you could kill a wasp with, the kind you can snick flies out of midair with—the kind you can believe in.  Even in Oklahoma, many a 6- or 8-legged creature was neatly smacked, scooped up, and disposed of.  One time I even used it to usher an intruding frog to the door and flick him through it.  My preferred method for the larger bugs is an initial light, stunning smack followed by a jab or side chop (it’s cleaner that way).

To make the sport a little more interesting, there is a small hole in the swatter.  This fly-shaped hole offers airborne insects an unrealistic—but theoretically possible—second chance at life.

As you can imagine, since we moved to Nicaragua, this wonder has gotten even more use with the weekly roach killings, quarterly tarantula killings, and daily fly, mosquito, or other small pest killings.  I loved it before we moved here.  Now I don’t know how we would ever live without it.  As you can see in the photo, it has done its job well.  I love it so much that I should maybe name it.

*If you’re not familiar with OXO, virtually all of their products are made of or coated with a resilient rubbery, silicony material.  As a side note, I don’t believe this flyswatter is sold anywhere anymore.

for real grace

In What’s So Amazing About Grace? (which I read several years ago) as well as in The Jesus I Never Knew (which I am reading now), Philip Yancey relates a story a friend of his had told him:

A prostitute came to me in wretched straits, homeless, sick, unable to buy food for her two-year-old daughter. Through sobs and tears, she told me she had been renting out her daughter – two years old! – to men interested in kinky sex. She made more renting our her daughter for an hour than she could earn on her own in a night. She had to do it, she said, to support her own drug habit. I could hardly bear hearing her sordid story. For one thing, it made me legally liable – I’m required to report cases of child abuse. I had no idea what to say to this woman.

At last I asked if she had ever thought of going to a church for help. I will never forget the look of pure, naive shock that crossed her face. “Church!” she cried. “Why would I ever go there? I was already feeling terrible about myself. They’d just make me feel worse.”

Yancey remarks on the contrast from women Jesus came into contact with: “What struck me about my friend’s story is that women much like this prostitute fled toward Jesus, not away from him. The worse a person felt about herself, the more likely she saw Jesus as a refuge. Has the church lost that gift? Evidently the down-and-out, who flocked to Jesus when he lived on earth, no longer feel welcome among his followers. What has happened?”

When I read this story maybe 5 years ago or so, I was horrified. Horrified by this lady and the choices she had made. But maybe more horrified by the fact that I knew she was right about the church. And I also couldn’t help but wonder, “What would my response be?”

Last week, a 5 year old girl from the Oriental Market who had attended our Niños de Vida services died. On Tuesday, Chase, Katie and I went with Pastor Antonio to her mother’s house to pray for her and give them a financial gift to help with the costs of the funeral. While there, we met this girl’s baby sister, and learned that her mother is a prostitute (as are many of the mothers of our kids). She shared a bit of her story, telling us that she had tried to have her baby girl dedicated to the Lord in several churches, but was rejected by them all. She was broken. We stood in their house, which wasn’t much bigger than most people’s bathrooms, and Pastor Antonio prayed for this family, for their loss, their desperation, and that they would trust Christ despite the difficulties in their lives. After he prayed, he took their baby girl in his arms and raised her up to the Lord, dedicating her to Christ. In that moment, I couldn’t help but praise God for grace, and how truly great it is. And for the church, who doesn’t always get it right, but sometimes they do, and when they do, it is beautiful. I don’t always understand it and I don’t always know how to (or choose to) give grace, but Christ is faithful to offer it and his supply of grace knows no end.

Grace is love that cares and stoops and rescues. – John Stott

Christmas…in October…in Nicaragua

I have come to expect this sort of thing from stores in the United States. But really, you too, Nicaragua? Christmas is over 2 months away! I guess it won’t be long before they are selling wicker reindeers at stoplights.

Pillar on the Rock (again)

A little more than a month ago, I (Chase) wrote about children’s ministry for our friends’ blog.  I finally have my second article posted, and will eventually follow it with a third and final article on the topic.  Check it out below:

Why Prayer Matters (For Children Too)

It’s not wrong, It’s just different

As a missionary in Nicaragua (or anywhere really), this is a phrase you learn early on, and have to constantly remind yourself of, especially when you are getting cut in front of in line, or someone walks out in the road right in front of your car. Although, when you use this phrase in instances like these, you might actually be thinking that the thing is, in fact, wrong, but you are trying to convince yourself that it’s not. The pictures below are of things that genuinely are not wrong, but they definitely are different!

 Condimento, or “condiment”, also translated as “seasoning”. As for what’s inside, who really knows?

It is quite common to see two men riding a motorcycle together here. It’s no big deal.

Do you want some relish on your ice cream? Sure, that’s okay! McDonald’s will serve you that.

I wonder what he keeps in that box. Ohhh, “things”! (cosas means things)

Sometimes the road masquerades itself as a river

And here in Nicaragua, cockroaches can be the size of your fist. (Not wrong, just different, not wrong, just different…)

it’s raining again

 
I sit here and listen to the rain. Pouring. And the thunder. Shouting. But I remember to be thankful. Even though I know the rain brings with it a few (frustrating) power outs and some additional mold later on.


We were talking with some friends the other day, and somehow the conversation turned towards winter. And how great it is to sit by a fire on a snowy day, drinking hot chocolate with peppermint, and enjoying the company of warm friendships, possibly even playing a game of  cards.

We reminisced. But our friend spoke about how he enjoys the rainy Nicaraguan days here in the same way as we enjoyed the cold, snowy days in Texas (yes, Texas). The rain brings a wonderful, refreshing breeze through the house, and reminds one to be thankful for a home that protects and keeps dry. Rain gives one permission to drink hot tea or hot chocolate and makes one want to lounge and get enveloped in a great story.


So Nicaraguan downpours, I am choosing to think that you are not so bad after all. But you will always only be second to a cozy, wintery December day in Texas.

Coffee+Beckett=Delicious Fun

Chase and I love coffee. We just do. (and hope you do also!) We make it almost every morning and take it to work with us. A few months ago, we started making coffee while holding Beckett, and he has now become a part of the process. If we start to make it without him (or if he hears the words “make coffee”), he’ll come walking over with his arms up to be picked up. We love it. To see just how cute he is (and see some of the fun new things he has learned), watch the video above!

Pillar on the Rock

Some friends of ours from Norman started an online magazine called Pillar on the Rock as a result of their passion to see the church remember her foundation - Jesus Christ. They recently asked Chase if he would be a guest author for the site and his first post went up today. It's called "Self-Improvement vs. the Gospel" and it's the first in a series about how to do children's ministry well. Check it out if you have a minute!

As promised…

I had said that I would write again about my next pitahaya experiment, and I’m pleased to announce that it was a success (relatively speaking)!  The difference was in using limes (and not green lemons that I picked from a tree or oranges as a substitute) and lots of sugar.  I didn’t blend it long enough in the Vita-Mix to pulverize all the seeds, so it had a bit of an odd, lumpy texture to it.  I kinda liked that part of it—it was a little like one of those crazy Asian drinks.  Julie was less than impressed, and I think she has decided to write off pitahaya altogether.

Below are some pictures for your viewing pleasure.

 

Also, if by chance you find pitahaya and want to try to make an interesting beverage, here’s more or less the recipe I made:

1 pitahaya, peeled

8 oz. water

juice from 3 medium limes

1/4 c. sugar

Directions: Blend! If you don’t have a Vita-Mix, you may want to strain out the seeds after blending. Refrigerate until cold and then push on some unsuspecting soul after you’ve had your fill.

The Little Things

Lately, we have been praising God for some of the little things we have seen him do. One of which is that a volunteer that works with Camino de Vida recently had her cell phone stolen. As there was no money to replace the phone, she has gone without for the last month. Though the details are a bit muddy, her phone was actually returned this week! We are thankful that we serve a God who constantly provides for us!

Also, we have a boy, who is known as “El Gato”, who has been attending our youth group for quite awhile. A few weeks ago when we were visiting him and the kids in his neighborhood, we accidentally left behind our soccer ball. As he has been known as a thief and tends to be one of the causes of danger in this particular neighborhood, we didn’t expect to see the ball ever again. However, the following Saturday, he came running up to Jeremy to return the ball, proud of his honesty and good care of it. We are so excited to see God changing the hearts and lives of the kids and youth through Camino de Vida. 

Escaping the Devil’s Bedroom

I finished this book last night and I must say that it was an eye-opener. If you don’t know anything about it, here is a description which can be found on the book’s website.

“The sex industry enslaves millions of women, men and children, but Jesus’ followers are fighting back.
Dawn Jewell weaves the stories of individual victims with a careful examination of the realities that propelled them into prostitution in North America, Europe, Asia, Africa and Latin America. Alongside, she highlights ministries that are reaching one life at a time through prayerful visits to strip clubs, bars and brothels. The transforming power of the Gospel shines in men and women who have left lives of sexual exploitation and started new lives of dignity.  
Dawn traveled to Athens, London, Amsterdam, Brazil, the Philippines and beyond to interview exploited men and women and hear their stories firsthand. She trekked alongside volunteers and leaders to red light districts to discover how Christians extend a hand to people without hope.”

There were several things I loved about this book. Here I will name a few…
1. How real it is.
They aren’t all success stories. Several volunteers would spend years praying with and for women in brothels. And yet the women (or men) couldn’t find the courage to leave. Discouraging, yes. Real, yes. This is life in ministry. Thankfully though, it is actually our God who is in charge of calling hearts to His. So we can rest in knowing that He is not done yet. The seeds were planted. And seeds grow. (There were also many success stories, including the story of Harmony, who supported herself through college working at a strip club, but now helps women in that situation to replace the lies they believe, and churches to support the women who are learning to replace the lies.)
[I’ve been blessed to witness a few seeds blossom like crazy since living in Nicaragua. Our ministry team for our Saturday morning kids services includes women and girls who used to prostitute themselves, but now invest their lives in serving, giving, and praying for our kids. Women like Bertha.]
2. How it encourages us all to do something.
And before we can, it’s essential to see people through our Father’s eyes.

“Look them in the eye and see what I, their Father, see. See their bright futures, see their beautiful lives, see them in their true home where they belong. Do not call them prostitutes because I have a name for them. I created them in my image. They are mine.”

This is not always an easy process, and a good first step is prayer – God is faithful to change our hearts and our minds if we ask him too. To learn more about how you can be involved, visit the book’s Action page.
3. How it reminded me who I am.

“Grasping God’s love for people mired in the darkness and shunned by society entails realizing our equality as sinners. Neither women or men in prostitution, nor the Christian who tithes regularly and worships in Sunday service can do anything to save themselves.”

I’m there with them. Stuck in the pit. Waiting for (and hopeless without) Christ to pull us all out and give us new life.

“The paradox of the church, Jesus’ witness this side of heaven, is its people – the greatest sinners on earth. When we grasp and accept our own stories of brokenness, we can welcome others with a full embrace instead of judging them from a distance.”

Sometimes we tend to think of ourselves as “doing pretty good” (which means if we are judging ourselves as far as how we are doing, we can only expect that we will judge others with the same standards we use for ourselves). We forget that we are, in fact, quite broken. And that this brokenness (and understanding the depravity of it) is essential to understanding the gospel, which is essential for sharing it with others.

Pitahaya, take 4

So I (Chase) have been entranced with this weird-looking fruit in season right now called pitahaya (pronounced pea-tie-ya).  I wrote about it briefly in our last newsletter, but I’ll go ahead and tell you the whole story.  Pitahaya, which is also called dragon fruit, is this baseball-sized cactus fruit with surprisingly colorful juice.

I was in the grocery store one day and saw a huge pile of them and thought, “Cool!  A big, pink alien-looking fruit!” or something to that effect.  I bought one and googled “weird pink fruit” to find out what it was called, as I neglected to read the sign at the store.

Since then, I’ve heard again and again that people revere it for its juice, but I’m beginning to think that they only like the juice for its color.  The juice is dark purple and gets all over everything: the knife, the cutting board, the counter, the blender, the hands.  I have yet to get it on the shirt, but I’m sure that once I do, it will stain.

Those of you who know me well know that I love making delicious drinks, especially smoothies.  My attempts at making drinks with pitahaya, however, have been less than delicious, which is severely frustrating for me, a self-made, self-proclaimed drink master.

Attempt #1: I just threw some things together, including coconut milk I had made myself from a coconut I bought, cracked, and shredded (pretty awesome, right?).  My thought was that two tropical fruits will obviously taste delicious together.  The initial product was palatable, not memorable.  Unfortunately, in throwing together this and that, I made a whole blender-full (and was too honest to convince Julie to have any), so I saved it in glass goblets in the fridge.  Every time I opened the fridge thereon after, I was enticed by the beautiful color of it in our fancy goblets (see the below picture).  What a terrible mistake to confuse color for flavor: leftover the next day, it tasted like bile.  I admired the rich purple as it washed down the drain.

 Attempt #2: I found a recipe on allrecipes.com and attempted it.  I gave it 3 stars out of 5 as it was bitter and tasted odd.  Not bad, but odd. 

At this point, I gave up.  Obviously pitahaya didn’t have the intriguing flavor promised by its beautiful appearance.  But a couple days later, as I bought food at a diner, I saw that they had pitahaya drink on sale.   I bought it and it was delicious, although it was mostly very sweet, purple lime juice.  Shortly afterwards, pitahaya was on sale and I had found another recipe.

Attempt #3: Added yogurt (per recipe) but substituted an orange for a lime since I didn’t want to go to the store.  Bad.  Added a lot of sugar and then a banana for some reason.  And then some ground ginger and cloves (it seemed a good idea at the time).  Palatable, like someone blended orange juice and corn syrup with your pumpkin pie.  Not worth repeating. 

Again I gave up.  After all, both my recipes ended up as disappointments.  I have wanted desperately to like this fruit.  I’ve read it’s a great source of calcium, fiber, and antioxidants, and I have never seen a more beautiful—yet less useful—fruit.

Well yesterday at the grocery store, it was on sale for 10 cents cheaper than it normally is!  Who could pass up a deal like that? 

In other words, I am now in possession of yet another pitahaya that I will attempt to make a drink with.  I am also in possession of a bag of limes and a couple kilos of sugar.  And if I fail once more, I’m sure I’ll keep trying again and again and again, until the Lord should return or pitahaya should go out of season.  I’m either determined or obsessed…but it’s so cool looking!

GHOP

GHOP, as you may have guessed from its name, is a local knock-off of IHOP.  Not satisfied with IHOP’s use of the term “International” (which apparently only includes Canada and Mexico) George, the “G” in “GHOP”, decided to come down and start his own House Of Pancakes right here in Managua.  His son used to work for IHOP in the States and consequently knows all of their recipes. 

Though hilarious in its shameless imitation of style, we find it easy to forgive because of the (usually) tasty food, the air conditioning and free wi-fi.

the reading list

Confession: I often start books that I do not finish. It’s not because I don’t like them, it’s not that they aren’t interesting…I’m not sure what it is really. But, I have recently made a list of all the books that I have that I haven’t read yet, or haven’t finished, along with the few that I purchased while in the States this summer. And in case you happened to be interested, I included the list for you below:

Crazy Love	Francis Chan
Created to be His Help Meet	Debi Pearl
Don't Waste Your Life	John Piper
El Caso de Cristo	Lee Strobel
Ending Slavery : How We Free Today's Slaves	Kevin Bales
Escaping the Devil's Bedroom	Dawn Herzog Jewell
Forgotten God	Francis Chan
Good News About Injustice	Gary A. Haugen
Good to Great and the Social Sectors	Jim Collins
Heavenly Discipleship	Michael Wells
Humility: The Journey toward Holiness	Andrew Murray
J. Hudson Taylor : A Man in Christ	Roger Steer
Mero Cristianismo	C.S. Lewis
Since Nobody's perfect…How Good is good enough?	Andy Stanley
The Jesus I Never Knew	Philip Yancey
The Kingdom Message	Gregory J. Dabel
The Power of a Praying Wife	Stormie Omartian
Too Busy Not to Pray	Bill Hybels
Too Small to Ignore	Dr. Wess Stafford
Treasuring God in Our Traditions	Noel Piper
Velvet Elvis	Rob Bell
Visioneering	Andy Stanley
When Heaven Invades Earth	Bill Johnson
When Helping Hurts	Steve Corbett & Brian Fikkert

If you’ve read any of these and really enjoyed them, let me know! I haven’t decided in what order I’ll read them yet, and would utilize any input you might have for me. (You might notice that there are a few in Spanish, and though those might take upwards of a century to finish, I do intend on doing it!) Also, if you have any book recommendations for me, I hope to get some new books next time we’re home (books in English are hard to come by in Nicaragua!)

Coming to America

Yes, that it a Neil Diamond reference…sorry.  But in our case it’s true!  We’re in the States until July 20th and are eager to see our friends and family.  If we haven’t contacted you yet and you want to see us, shoot us an email!

Chocolate Milk in a Bag

I thought it would be appropriate to share with you one of life’s little pleasures here.  It’s chocolate milk in a bag.  A lot of things can come in a bag here that you might not expect—regular milk, sour cream, some hot meals, water, ice cream, or even a soda you purchase from a street vendor if it originally came in a glass bottle or if you want to share with your friends.

Learning to use such bags can be tricky, but as the “packaging” is cheaper than a carton, it can also be a preferable option.  Take, for example, this little bag of chocolate milk (mm, i just took a sip and it was delicious!).  I recently discovered that a pint/bag of it costs only 30 cents, so I’ve been buying about one a week.  The contained goodness fits perfectly in the pictured glass, which is fortunate, because I’m not sure how I would set it down if it did not.  The trick is to cut/tear/bite off the corner and then pour.  This can be quite difficult, especially as the bag changes shape and weight as it empties, but fortunately tonight I did not make a mess.

Drinking straight from a bag is even trickier, and I haven’t mastered it yet.  Many times the torn corner has come out of my mouth while drinking and I’ve gotten water all over myself.  Oh well—such is the life of a gringo in Nicaragua.

By now, I hope I have you saying, “Dang! Where can I buy a bag of leche con chocolate?”  Well, you know where to find me.

Loved by E-mail

Each month, we send out a newsletter about life and ministry in Nicaragua. Each time we get a few e-mails from friends back home. Each letter we read and cherish, as they are tales of things familiar, people we miss like crazy, and words that say (without actually saying) that we have not been forgotten.

We enjoy hearing about the games people have been playing, the books they have been reading, and how their classrooms (for the teachers) have been holding up. It’s fun to hear about new babies on the way, how our community group is doing, and the progress on the kids ministry building at Wildwood. We have felt loved when people pray for us, support us, make plans to come visit us, or eagerly await our return. We are encouraged when people who were a part of things from our lives in the States (like our wedding, our jobs, or activities) remember them with us.

And it makes us joyful when we offer a chance for people to walk through life with us by reading books we are reading, and someone e-mails us to say that they have already ordered the book. We are even thankful that people can laugh about our misfortunes (one of which you can read about here).

To sum it all up, we know that people are extremely busy, but it means the world to us when people are willing to take the time to e-mail us (especially if they have to type it out on a tiny ipod screen!). It makes us feel loved. And not forgotten. And we are grateful.

You’re kidding…we’re out of gas?!

So after our youth service last night around 7:30, we were driving home, just like any other Saturday night, looking forward to an evening of mediocre leftover pizza and a movie with David and Kristina. A few minutes after we left the church, Chase said “the car is driving really strange”. My first thought: Oh my goodness. Car trouble again! We just bought this car – please don’t let it be another ‘93 Honda Civic mess all over again! Lord, you know how much I loathe breaking down in the middle of the road, especially after having done it 20 or 30ish times in the aforementioned Civic. Please, please, please, let the car go back to normal and everything be ok.” While these thoughts were taking place, our car was slowing to a stop, as it had turned off. I feared the worst, but Chase said “I think we are out of gas” and strangely, while we both felt stupid (even though the gauge said we still had a quarter tank and the fuel light never turned on), I was comforted. Ok, we need gas then. We call Jeremy (our boss) who wouldn’t be far away and he agreed to come and see what he could do. He comes, Chase and Jeremy talk for awhile about what to do and then it’s decided that Jeremy will go get a 3-liter bottle (a Nica taxi driver’s recommendation) full of diesel for us. Jeremy gets in to turn on his car, and the battery is dead, as he had left his lights on. Next, we call David, who graciously comes and brings us the 3-liter bottle of diesel (pictured below). We put it in, try to start the car, and lo and behold, our battery has died as well. We had our headlights on to prevent us from getting hit (we were stopped in the middle of the road, right after a curve) and it turned out unfavorably for us. Oh, and at that moment, our gas light came on. Thanks for that. So David jumps Jeremy’s car, then tries to help us jump ours. As we are attempting to do us, another Nicaraguan man comes by and tells us that when a diesel car runs out of gas, you can’t just put in more gas and start it up…especially with a dead battery. By this time it is 9:00pm.

We call a guy, Jason, who just happens to know absolutely everything about cars and whose ministry is partly to be a mechanic for missionaries. We know he is extremely busy, but hope he can give us some insight as to what to do. We call, and he says he’s on his way. He arrives and says we will need a lot more gas. So David, again, goes to the gas station for us and fills up that beloved 3-liter bottle again, along with another car fluid container of some type. Meanwhile, Jason and his neighbor who came along for the ride, Dave, were tinkering under the hood to restore fuel pressure, connecting 2 different sets of jumper cables to their car and ours, and hand pumping something else, while another Nica guy turns up from nowhere and “helps” them by using his cell phone as a dim flashlight. David comes back with gas, and the starting attempts begin. They pump, rev the other car’s engine, Chase tries to start ours. No luck. Again. No luck. Again. No luck. Over and over this went on. I was losing hope, when all of a sudden, it worked. All I could say was “Praise the Lord!”

Chase and I have been feeling a little lonely, friendless, and sorry for ourselves recently, but maybe this was God’s way of reminding us about what a great community we are blessed with. We so appreciate the help of Jeremy, David, Jason, and Dave, and can’t help but think about what we would have done without them. Lock the doors, cry, and sit tight til morning, maybe. So glad we found our way home eventually, even if it was 10:15 PM. And the best part, we had that leftover pizza waiting for us. 

Wellness, Prayer, and Laminin

Friday night I got really sick. I was absolutely miserable. I can’t remember ever feeling so horrible in all my life. My sweet husband was up most of the night with me and then had to get up and go to the kids service, had added responsibilities since I couldn’t be there, and didn’t complain once. He loved and served me completely the whole time I was sick, which I was so grateful for. But the funny thing about when I am sick is that all I can think about, long for, beg God for, is to be well. When I’m well, I don’t usually think about how good it feels to be well and most days I don’t thank God for the opportunity to not be sick that day.

Abby and Chrissie are both really sick right now. Abby is a precious 4 year old girl who was adopted from Guatemala. Abby has leukemia and has been undergoing chemo for 773 days. She still has 213 left. Her body is falling apart, and there is a constant fear of relapse, or worse, (in some ways) death. The Riggs family of 9 (7 kids) longs for the normal days, days of wellness for Abby. Chrissie, although I’ve been introduced to her story only recently, is a 4 year old girl adopted from Serbia.  I don’t know her whole story, but I do know that she has problems with her heart, and after having her chest opened up 3 times yesterday, she died. She was dead for 20 minutes but the Lord brought her back. She is alive via machines, but her parents have full hope “that when our King of Kings restores Chrissie's health, she will dance her way out of this hospital.”

Both of these stories remind me how precious life is. How thankful I am to not be in their shoes. They also remind me of the hope that we have and the God that we can trust. They remind me how important prayer is and how precious God’s children are to him. They make me thankful for technology, that even though I have only met Abby once and I have never met Chrissie, I can follow their stories, pray with them in the hard times, rejoice with them in the good times, and all the while, trust Christ with them, and all of this, from Nicaragua. And they make me thankful for the normal, mundane, day-to-day life, the life that these families long for.

Will you pray for healing for Abby and Chrissie? I can’t imagine having to watch a child go through what these little girls are going through. My mom had to do it, as my oldest brother Jon had leukemia when he was 2. Will you pray that Abby’s leukemia never returns, that chemo would be effective, and that God would heal all of the many other health issues that have risen in Abby’s little body? And will you pray that Chrissie would survive, that they can turn off the life support machines, that her good lung would be emptied of the fluid it is filled with, and that Chrissie would, in fact, dance her way out of the hospital?

We serve a good God. A faithful God. A God who longs to hear our prayers. A God who desires to heal his people. A God who will be glorified. And a God whose will will be done. He is a universe maker and a heart former. And He promises us that He will hold us together. And that He will work all things together for good.

Check out this video to see an excerpt from one of Louie Giglio’s sermons about how, more specifically, God holds us together, through His son Jesus (and Laminin). Incredible. A great use of your next 8 minutes. Man, we have a great God!

A God who provides

I read a story recently that I thought I would share with you all:

 “Shortly after Dallas Theological Seminary was founded in 1924, it almost came to the point of bankruptcy. All the creditors were going to foreclose at noon on a particular day. That morning key leaders met in the president’s office with Dr. Chafer for prayer. They asked specifically for God to provide the needs. In that prayer meeting was a man by the name of Harry Ironside. When it was his turn to pray, he prayed in his characteristic manner: “Lord, we know that the cattle on a thousand hills are Thine. Please sell some of them and send us the money.”

While they were praying a tall Texan with boots on and an open collar stepped up to the business office and said, “I just sold two carloads of cattle in Ft. Worth. I’ve been trying to make a business deal but it fell through, and I feel compelled to give the money to the seminary. I don’t know if you need it or not, but here’s the check!”

A secretary took the check and, knowing how critical things were financially , went to the door of the prayer meeting and timidly tapped. When she finally got a response, Dr. Chafer took the check out of her hand. It was exactly the amount of the debt! When he looked at the name, he recognized the cattleman in Ft. Worth, and turning to Dr. Ironside said, “Harry, God sold the cattle!” (James S. Hewett, Illustrations Unlimited, p. 419)

If we ask, God will provide. Specifically. That is so cool. I love this story because there was nothing the men could do but pray. I love this story because God does own the cattle on a thousand hills and he does want to provide for us and he tells us if we ask, it will be given to us. And I love this story because the cowboy followed through on what he felt compelled to do. He could of just as easily said “These thoughts are crazy, I need to provide for my family. I’ve got kids that I have to feed, clothe, and eventually send to college!” I love this story because I’ve been there. A place where there is nothing I can do but pray and ask God to come and meet this need. For our wedding. For our college loans. When I didn’t have a job for two months. Each time, he showed up in a specific way to meet our needs. And finally, I love this story because it’s about Texas.

Viva Spanish

So we have been taking classes since we arrived in Nicaragua at Viva Spanish School. We started at 20 hours a week (so intense!), went down to 10 after the Christmas break, and just recently have gone down to 4 hours a week so that we can be more involved with Camino de Vida. Since we started, we have had probably 8 different professors (they switch off every week), but consistently, we have had Armando almost every day.


Armando speaks English and is a really nice guy (he remembered what day we were getting back to Nica after Christmas and texted us to say welcome back!) who has been helping us a little bit with our car search. It seems that he is always keeping an eye out for the kind of car we are looking for, and a few times, he has taken cars for a test drive, and even bargained a lower price for us (although he told the guy it was for his Nica father who couldn't come because he was sick!) When we've asked about his religious beliefs, we've gotten mixed messages, although we are fairly certain he is not a believer. We've invited him to church and a church event, but so far he has been unable to attend. We're praying that Armando would trust Christ and that we would be sensitive to however the Spirit wants to use us! We will probably be taking a few weeks off from classes as we will have several visitors in March, but pray for us that we would continue to pursue our friendship with Armando and that God would be glorified through it.

The injury

So the other day, I (Chase) and William were practicing for our slapstick ninja skit we blogged about a couple of days ago (see the Ninjas de Vida post).  Somewhere along the way, I broke my big toe. I actually don’t really know how it happened.  I’ve broken my pinky toes before, but this is a little different, as more weight and balance depends on this.  Consequently, I limp obviously, which is more embarrassing than it is anything else.

All in all, not really a big deal, but I thought I would supply our beloved readers with an update and some gross pictures. This, ladies and gentlemen, is what a broken toe looks like.

Where the Streets Have No Name

Many of you have probably heard this famous U2 Song, and what you might not know is that many believe it was written about Managua, Nicaragua, as Bono visited here one year before it was written. Whether or not our new home was the inspiration or not, it is true that the streets here do not have names. You describe a place by using landmarks (sometimes that do not exist anymore or are different than they used to be). For example, the road that we live on is referred to as “the old road to Leon”; the location of Viva Spanish School, where we have taken Spanish classes, is “Behind MetroCentro (a mall), 2 blocks South from the FNI building”; and the “address” for Camino de Vida is “From the Monseñor Lezcano Statue, 2 blocks south and 2 blocks up”. There are no street numbers or addresses anywhere in the city. It is definitely an adjustment for us, after relocating here from the States. For more information on the connection between this song and Nicaragua and to read a funny story about receiving mail in this country, see this article: http://www.time.com/time/world/article/0,8599,1701487,00.html

good vs. evil

This Saturday we are starting a new series in our children's services! This is exciting because it is the first series that Chase and I are planning. So we are planning the Order of Service, including what Jeremy will be teaching each week and we created the invitations to give out as well!


Above is the first invitation we have created. It includes the theme - el bien contra el mal - or Good vs. Evil. (Chase created this graphic - isn't it great?) This Saturday we will be doing the story of Adam and Eve. The memory verse is in the bottom right corner of the invitation. It is Romans 12:21 and in English, it is "Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good." This memory verse will last for the whole theme, which will probably be 4 weeks. Each week we print about 400 invitations to give to children in the Oriental Market (a dangerous and unreached part of town) and to the children of prostitutes. What a joy it is to invite these children to our church and share truth with them and be a part of helping them know God better!

Luggageless but home!

Well, we arrived last night in Managua about 8:30 safe and sound. However, none of our 4 pieces of luggage made it with us! Our layover in Miami was only about 40 minutes and although we were only a gate away from our next flight, it wasn't enough time to transfer our luggage. We did, however, make it with the extremely large bag of crayons the Wildwood kids collected for us to give to Nica kids (much to the amusement of the security guy who searched our carryon!) So while we cannot hang our curtains, or put away our clothes, or brush our teeth, we can color pictures to our hearts content! We hope to receive our luggage around 6:00 tonight, but until then Kristina and Beckett will have to put up with our terrible breath!

La multa (the ticket)

So, within the first 6 weeks of being in Nicaragua, I (Chase) got my first traffic ticket.  I was on a two-lane highway, stuck behind a little moto-taxi (a three-wheeled motorcycle taxi with a metal cab built around it) that was going about 15km/hr in a 60km/hr zone (that’s about 9mph in a 35mph zone).  Learning from the locals, I moved into the opposite lane of traffic to pass him.  Unfortunately, this is illegal because it involves “crossing the yellow line”.  I was waved down by a policeman and had my license taken away.

The normal process for getting a ticket goes like this: the officer takes away your license and gives you a ticket which acts as a temporary license for 30 days.  You go to any bank to pay the fine, and they give you a receipt to show at a police station to get your license back.

The problem is that not everyone agrees where your license will be taken.  Our Spanish teacher told us that it always goes to the main transit office (El Transito) and that we should wait a full week after the ticket was given to allow for processing time.

After the week was up, we went to El Transito and spent about 30-45 minutes there while they looked through stacks of licenses rubber-banded together and paper rosters of who got a ticket where.  Eventually they told me that they didn’t have it and that it might be at Police Station 3.  They added that if Police Station 3 didn’t have it, I should tell them that El Transito didn’t have it either.  Very helpful advice.

After Spanish class one day, we caught a taxi to Police Station 3, conveniently located in the middle of a neighborhood many nameless streets away from a major highway.  There, through poor communication in Spanish, we were directed to the Nicaraguan DMV to apply for a license.  We finally found our way to a little hut within the station walls where a little sign on the door said “Transito”.  It was padlocked.  We learned from a nearby officer that “Transito” did not open for 2 hours.

Fast forward through driving around aimlessly trying to find the station again, through waiting in the wrong line (not actually a line, but two men just standing in front of a doorway), through women shamelessly breastfeeding uncovered to finally receiving my license from one of those little rubber-banded stacks in a tiny little room in the corner.  We emerged sweaty but victorious (see above picture), and now I always make sure to check for policemen before crossing the yellow line.

Goodbye Civic (#2)!

Getting in for the last time!

Yesterday we sold our car. She was a beauty. A 2003 Honda Civic. We bought her 2 years ago after her predecessor, the 1993 Honda Civic conked out. Both Civics provided 2 quite different experiences for us. The first had many problems, among which were the constant overheating (especially at extremely inconvenient times, such as when we were trying to get Eric to Arkansas so he could propose to Nicole, or when we, along with Eric and Nicole, were trying to make it to Bethany and Paul's wedding in Kansas...), and also the occasional shut-off-in-the-middle-of-the-intersection stunt she liked to pull. Each of these times resulted in me, a sobbing mess, calling Chase, stuck at work in Shawnee or OKC, who would call an old roommate to come help, and once a policeman even rescued me by pushing me down the street with his car into the Hardee's parking lot. Her end came the day of the epic ice storm of 2007 in Norman, when I called the repairman we had her towed to after she started producing an extremely loud metal-on-metal knocking sound, and he quickly (and rudely) told me "Your engine's trash." To this blunt remark, I replied with a final bout of sobbing for my rebellious but much loved first little car. The repairman broke in between gasps to ask if I could have my husband call him later. He clearly lacked social and communication skills.

The 2003 Civic treated us much better than her older sister. We decided to play it safe and we bought her in January of 2008 from the Honda dealership. For two years, I lived in bliss trusting that this new beauty would take me all the way through each stoplight and I could ride in her for more than 30 minutes before having to blast the heater in an attempt to cool off the little engine that couldn't. I think that I felt thankful almost every day of that 2 years for how well she did her job of getting me from one place to the next. And I'm sure that Chase occasionally was appreciative for the lack of sobbing phone calls he received once we got her. Anyway, we sold her to the Frederick's and we know that she is in good hands. We will miss her greatly, as we missed her sister (both were loved equally, though they were different) though Amy promised we could come back and visit her if we want to.

Well, Nicaragua, that was our last big thing to do. She's sold. We'll see you "for good" in about a week!