Showing posts from October, 2014

Drunk at the Market, Failure at the Clinic

Thursdays always start like a rocket shooting off to the moon for me.  My goal is to exercise, have worship, fix breakfast, go to the market, shower and be up at the school by 8:15 (2nd period).  Makes me tired just writing all of that.  Going to the market is at least an hour trip for me and usually I pick up and drop off my friend Lalah, so that takes more time too.  So this Thursday was another typical morning for me.  Lalah and I usually go our separate ways once we arrive to the market and know what time and where to meet at the end of our shopping trip.  My usual wheelbarrow man had just returned from a long 3 month stent in his village.  He greeted me in the parking lot.  BaPak John knows my route, so he caught up with me after I had already shopped for 20 minutes.  Lots of work was coming his way, so I encouraged him to keep working and asked him if in 10 minutes he could follow me to the front of the market, picking up my purchased goods along the way.  He nodded his head in a

Circle of Connectedness

Several weeks ago Darron and I took a spontaneous trip for groceries and we were delayed by 2 hours in our return, due to a graduation at a University that clogged the road.  Upon our return home at 9:00 p.m. one of our younger children was anxiously awaiting our arrival.  Almost  immediate peace and connectedness came with our entrance.  I find myself not much different in respect with my own parents.  Now that is silly!  I’m in my early forties.  I live a world away.  I left home when I was 17.  Yet, recently they were gone on a two week trip.  Toward the end of their trip I found myself watching the calendar and anticipating their return home where I could give them a phone call.  I STILL like it best when my parents are at their home and I know where they are.  How strange is that?!!! Recently I have been reading the book, “ME the me I want to be. Becoming God’s best version of you” by John Ortberg.  (One of my favorite authors, by the way!)  He wrote something that cast some li

What is Different in YOUR Picture?

I used to love the activity in the children’s magazines that had two pictures side by side.  They were almost identical.  Yet a few things were slightly different and it was my job to try and spot it.  Great idea.  Lovely activity. As I went to visit one of my Papuan friends in the hospital this weekend, who had just birthed a baby, I couldn’t help but see some differences.  As my camera was clicking pictures, I was imagining YOU spotting the things that were different in the “two sets” of pictures.  Your picture of what a hospital setting and a new born baby facility should look like and what it actually looks like here.  The contrast is not as subtle as my childhood magazine pictures…..but it is still fun to compare. What is your ‘picture’ of hand washing and glove usage?  As I was in the nursery observing a nurse suctioning a newborn baby, I was quite surprised at her actions following this procedure.  Peeling off one layer of gloves, she now had ‘clean hands’ as there were two mo

Cool Mom. Crazy Mom. Crabby Mom.

12 days single parenting.  We’ve done really well.  The guys have been great.  Smashed in the last few weeks have been some awesome conversations that have just touched the deepest part of my mothering heart.  These conversations have come only when we have slowed down and been still and so I am rejoicing at the blessing in that family value. One of our highlights was tie dying our shirts.  This was from a kit I purchased at the last home school fair I attended right before moving to Indonesia (2011).  It was suppose to “move” with us and I have wondered these last 3 years where it went.  Cleaning out our storage crate this summer, I discovered it and tossed the dye’s into our luggage.  They were so bright and vivid and are not washing out.  What a “cool Mom” to tie die! This last weekend, Andrew begged me to go out on the bike with him.  In this country it is legal for an under aged driver to “drive”, as long as they have a licensed driver with them.  After much coaxing we were of

Somewhere Between Then and Now

I know that many of you just long to know what is happening in our lives and the day to day stuff.  When life starts to seem “normal” it becomes increasingly challenging to fill you in on what seems so routine.  Let’s see how I do at giving a go, at “normal happenings”. One of the nicest “improvements” in our day-to-day life is the road.  Can a road condition really make that much difference in your life?  YES.  The main road that we travel on to get to our local town (Sentani) has gone from fairly narrow (2 lanes), to fairly wide (4 lanes).  We have gone from major potholes and crazy palm bridges to smooth black top road and solid bridge.  Our commute has gone anywhere from to 20-40 minutes to 10-15 minutes.  There are still things about the road that make us shake our heads in COMPLETE disbelief.  Such as:  the telegraph pole in the middle of the road not yet moved and AS SOON as the new road was paved, mounds of rocks and sand were dumped on it to build the ditches.  It is so easy

The Days are Long. The Years are Short.

A friend challenged me with the title of my blog, this week.  I have chewed on it and about have it digested.  It resonates with me.  It challenges me.  Can you relate with this thought also?  The days are long.  The years are short. I can blame the revelation that the years are short on several things.  Aubrey, our eldest.  Sixteen.  Enjoying life at full throttle.  Loving life here, but toying with returning next year to the States to finish out his junior and senior year.  Which would equal the end of my direct parenting.  HELLO!?!  The years are short.  He was JUST the newborn in NICU fighting for LIFE.   More revelation: eighteen years of marriage.  Twenty years of being Darron’s best friend.  Why I can still remember blowing dandelion seeds together as our love began.  SHORT YEARS.  Then the fact that we are working on year four here.  I still vividly remember stepping off the airplane onto the hot muggy airport tarmac and wondering what life would hold for us in Papua.    Are