Translation

Thursday, November 19, 2015

Thinking about Dad

My son Connor is a funny kid.  He says whatever he’s thinking no matter where we are or whom we are with.  Sometimes this brutal honesty trait is totally terrifying as we are guests someplace and he declares that the food is disgusting.  At other times, it can be fun and uplifting, like when he declares, “Dad, when I grow up, I’m going to be just like you.  I’m going to be a missionary, I’m going to drive a truck, I’m going to wear your clothes, and I’m not going to be a picky eater.”  Those are the moments that make any father swell with pride.  Especially when he follows up with commonly arguing to all his friends that I’m the strongest man in the world.  He has recently relegated me to the second strongest person in the world, but there are a lot of people out there, so even being considered the second strongest person makes me feel good. 
Perhaps these reflections won’t be interesting to anyone, but I feel the need to get them out.  Right now, I’m thinking of my father and how I thought of him as I was growing up.  I write these words sitting in London’s Heathrow Airport as I await my flight to Johannesburg, and eventually on to Lubumbashi.  The last text that I received from my mother before boarding my plane in Dallas read, “Dad’s been moved to hospice care, will let you know of any news as it comes.”  The first text I received after connecting to the airport WiFi here in London read, “The nurses have notified us that he is entering the final stages.”
It’s strange to me that I receive this news in an airport.  You see, my first memories of my father also mostly come from inside airports.  He traveled a lot and could be gone for a month at a time.  Back in those days, you could go all the way to the gate and watch the plane come in.  That is what we always did.  In that small San Antonio airport, we could see the planes come in and taxi up to one of 10 gates.  It was always so exciting when the plane pulled up to the gate we were waiting at.  Then, it seemed like it would take forever for him to walk off the plane.  I would try to carry his bag but it was always too heavy.  When we got home, my sister and I would fight over who got to sit by him and we anxiously awaited the treasures that he brought us.  As I grew up, he was the man who taught me to ride my bike, throw a baseball, rescue Zelda (original Nintendo version) and how to do math in my head.  Maybe I wouldn’t have said that he was the strongest man in the world, but perhaps I would have called him the smartest. 
I know it’s a broken world and not everyone has great memories of their father, but it’s my hope that everyone would have memories of someone who has nurtured and guided them in their young years through to adulthood.  As an adult, he continued to teach me how to be a good husband and father, how to garden (it’s not as easy as it looks), and how to serve.  He served our local church, and its daycare, as the treasurer and handyman for more than twenty years, all without ever receiving a paycheck. He didn’t want to get paid, it’s just who he was.  I’ve learned a lot from him and will continue to learn from him after he is gone. 
We knew that moving to Africa would be a sacrifice.  For us, it’s not too difficult to be apart from family.  We have technology that allows us to communicate regularly and in the worse case scenario, we will see them every other year.  What has proven difficult is to not be there in the event of an emergency.  We knew that we would get a similar call one day; “Come home quick, so and so is really ill,” but we just didn’t expect it to be so soon.  Now, my dad is old.  I was born just a bit before his 45th birthday.  But he never seemed old; not to us.  I remember walking home from elementary school with a friend one day, and for some reason, my dad was home when we got there.  My friend asked, “Do you live with your grandpa?”  “No,” I responded totally puzzled.  “Is that your dad,” he followed up in disbelief.  “Yeah…” I replied, still totally puzzled.  I was a lot older when my friend’s question made since to me.  He never acted any older than my friends’ dads.  Perhaps he stayed young because he had young kids, and then when we grew older, he and my mother began to care for foster kids who really had them running around. 
In any case, I knew this call was coming one day.  We missionaries know that we have accepted to miss certain big dates or events in the lives of our families.  For me, this time, it will be the final moments of my father’s life and his funeral that I miss.  We are very lucky to be a part of a great church that has allowed us to go back and see my dad.  Jill and the kids were there for a week, and I’ve stayed an extra week after them.  We cherished these last days together and hopefully have left the kids some good memories of their grandfather.   As I said, I knew this call was coming one day, I had just imagined (and hoped) that it would have come many years down the road.



This last paragraph comes two days after I wrote these words from the airport in London.  This morning, I received the news that my dad had passed in the night.  He went quietly, without complaining, as was his way.  He made the man I am today and I can’t thank him enough for all he did for us.  He was a low-key, behind the scenes kind of guy but I’m going to miss him in a big, in-your-face kind of way. 

Monday, November 9, 2015

Mental Photos

Some of my earliest memories include moving to a new town when I was just six years old and my baby sister, Emily, being born when I was seven. I don’t remember full details, but rather small moments. I remember my first day of 1st grade in my new school. I remember the classroom, my teacher, Mrs. Goodman, and how nervous I was. When my sister was born, I remember my parents dropping my other sister and I off to stay with nearby neighbors as they headed to the hospital. These are all small snapshots, but so memorable. You could call them mental photos. There aren’t actual photos to flip through or albums on Facebook to browse. These are special moments that I will never forget that have an important meaning to me.

This week has been full of mental photos. As we’ve come home to the US to spend time with Gavin’s dad, I’ve tried to be intentional in capturing special times with our family.  Macy and Connor giving Papa hugs throughout the day…snap. Gavin sharing conversations about every day life with his dad…snap. Sitting on the couch in the living room having worship and praying together…snap. These are the moments I don’t want to forget.

Two weeks ago, Gavin’s dad, Don, received news that he has cancer. He went to the doctor, having a hard time breathing and after having a chest x-ray, he was sent to the ER. This is where they discovered cancer in nearly every organ of his body. He was given two weeks to two months to live. Something no person is ever prepared to hear.

After a few days at the hospital, a decision was made to begin chemotherapy treatments. The day after his first treatment he was sent home.

Days and nights are hard. They coincide through short naps, eating small bites and hopes of a relief from pain. Cancer is tough; it’s not easy. But, we believe our God is tougher. We are thankful this journey isn’t one we walk alone. Even as we sat together for worship as a family on Sunday morning, Don said he doesn’t know how people go through this illness without Christ. He has hope in the midst of sickness. It’s what he clings to.


We treasure this time we’ve had to come back from Africa to be with our family. Please join us in prayer for Don. Pray for comfort, pray for relief from pain and above all pray that we would see the hand of God and know His peace that surpasses all understanding.

Monday, October 12, 2015

Gettin' Schooled

5th grade students
School in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) isn’t free. Schools can cost anywhere from $5US to $50US/per month. The more expensive the school, the better the education. Imagine being the sixth or eight child in a family of ten children and hoping your parents will be able to afford for you to attend school.

The South Katanga District in Southern DRC has seen this need and has a vision to build schools, giving quality education to families who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford it.  One of these schools has officially opened in the neighborhood of Katuba, in Lubumbashi.

1st grade class
When construction on the school in Katuba began in July of 2014, children would gather around as the first bricks were laid and walls started to come up. When we would ask the children where they attend school, they would respond, “Here.” “No, where are you attending now? This school isn’t open yet.” Again, their response was, “Here!” That’s when we realized so many children were waiting for a good education at an affordable price.


 On October 5th, Complexe Scolaire du Nazaréen opened its doors to the community of Katuba hosting Kindergarten through 5th grade for $6.50 per month. Currently, there are over 100 students in attendance and more coming to enroll each day. Students are learning French (since most come from homes where only Swahili is spoken), Math, Science and Bible. Quality education with a Biblical foundation!

Friday, September 25, 2015

Bucket Living

I find myself pretty emotional these days. Well, actually, I’m emotional most other times as well, but this is a different type of emotion. Currently, we are in the middle of the desert, figuratively speaking. Seven weeks without water in our house has left us relying on “bucket” living, meaning a constant stream of filling up buckets from a back faucet and carrying them inside our house. We “bucket” flush, we take “bucket” baths and the dishes get a “bucket” rinse. I’d like to think we are pros at “bucket” living now. Three days ago, we found ourselves without even the small trickle of water coming in our back faucet. “What are we going to do for water?” was my first thought. “Where are we going to get it from?”

I’m reminded of a woman in the Bible. A Samaritan woman going to draw water at a well, Jacob’s well. I can picture the scene well in mind after seeing women draw water from wells here.  In John, chapter 4, we read about this Samaritan woman going to fill her “bucket” with water and meeting Jesus. He asks for a drink from her, breaking a Jewish law. Jews were not supposed to talk with Samaritans. And, being a man, he was not supposed to talk to a woman without her husband present. But, that day, that life-changing day for this woman, Jesus wasn’t concerned with the law. He was concerned with offering grace and a chance to know Him. This Samaritan woman, whose name we never know, got to fill her “bucket” with much more than water to quench her thirst. She was offered living water. “Everyone who drinks this water (from the well) will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give him will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

I want that water. I want to fill my “bucket” with living water from the Lord. Where am I placing my trust? In what am I placing my faith?

Yesterday, as I used the last drop of water we had in the house, I closed my eyes and prayed to the Lord, “Please provide water for us.” Not a second later, I heard a loud knocking at our front gate. I put on my shoes and went to see who was there. A neighbor down the road was there and said, “If you need to fill up with water, you can come to our house and get what you need.” As I held back tears, I thanked him and went to get our buckets. I praised God and smiled for his perfect timing. I asked and He immediately provided. 

This is where my hope is found. In Him, I put my hope all day long. He is a God who provides.


So, do I recommend “bucket” living? No, not necessarily. But, if it means getting to be reminded of the provisions of my Savior, who offers living water, yes!

Friday, July 31, 2015

Finding Blessings in the Midst of Frustrations

Let’s be honest. We all have one of “those” weeks sometimes. The week where you get a speeding ticket, you lose something important or you just don’t have the energy. It’s been one of those weeks for us. The traffic police have been ruthless, our brakes on the truck started leaking, we ran out of water at our house, we hit a snag with a project that should not be a problem and our kids seem to be on an out-of-school-boredom-so-we-are-going-to-argue-nonstop kind of kick. But, in the midst of frustration, it has also been a week full of blessings. We have a Work and Witness team of 11 from PointLoma Nazarene University (PLNU) ministering with us in Lubumbashi. Nine people were baptized, four of which were on the PLNU team. We were able to spend some quality time with a family from the kids’ school we have wanted to get to know better. A neighbor down the street shared water from his well with us. We are all in good health and our vegetable garden starting sprouting. And, as in previous years, after a group of university students spend time with our kids, they are convinced that college will be the best place ever.

These are the weeks we have to hold on the tightest to God’s Word. “I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” (Hebrews 13:5b NLT) “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NIV) “As for God, his way is perfect: The Lord’s word is flawless; he shields all who take refuge in him…It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.” (Psalm 18:30, 32 NIV)


Despite the frustrations of this week, we keep our eyes focused on the blessings. We keep our eyes fixed on the Author and Perfecter of our faith, Jesus Christ.

Thursday, July 2, 2015

How Great Is Our God

God has been speaking to me a lot lately about his greatness (as in size) as well as his smallness (as in caring for the tiny details of our human lives). In college, as I participated in mission trips abroad, God rocked my world with his grandeur. At this point, I had lived my entire life in Oklahoma and traveled a bit, but something about crossing the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans (and even swimming in the Indian Ocean) changed my worldview. There was something so beautiful about colliding with other people groups and experiencing a whole new world. Something God has since given me a love for. At one point, I remember being so overwhelmed by God, thinking about all the planets and galaxies and stars. I couldn’t help but be in awe of God’s majesty and creativity. And yet…as we read in Genesis chapter 1, on the 6th day of creation, God wanted someone to share His creation with. So, he created man and woman in His image. Did you catch that? I know we know this, but have you really thought about it before? God who created light, water and earth, trees and plants, day and night, fish and birds, and the animals walking on the ground…created human beings.

Now, we all know that our story is a long one. It’s filled with failure and forgetfulness, but it is also filled with hope and promise and second chances. It is filled with love. “God so loved the world (you and me) that he gave his one and only Son, that whoevers believes in Him, shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) WOW! I pray that the Lord continues to remind me (and you) each day of our uniqueness, of His creativity displayed in us, our purpose in His plan and that His love is so big and so high and so grand, yet so personal and intimate. The same God who created the Heavens and the Earth, created each one of us. There is NONE like God!


“…And, I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ,” Ephesians 3:17-18