Fresh Perspective

Fifty baby chicks.  All in the name of missions.  That’s what I find on my screened in porch last week.  So cute and fluffy.  “Yes, dear, they can stay until they can be flown to Hobotongo.”  I graciously permit.  These chicks will provide eggs for the missionaries and villagers there.  This is where we have a thriving school and a growing church, in a very remote location.  I continue making supper as the chicks settle down in their makeshift box home, thinking, “I don’t have time to mess with chicks, this is Darron’s project.  They can stay here, but I’m not taking care of them.”  Rapidly a few days pass by.  Darron, Jacob and Nathaniel care for the chicks and I enjoy their little chirps and dislike their odor.  Otherwise, I ignore the happenings in Chickville.  Until Wednesday morning.  I am busy at the clinic and Darron keeps sending distressing messages to my phone.  “Chicks are getting sick.  What is g...

Furlough is a tricky balance of rest, family and friends, long shopping lists and medical appointments.  Throw in there: fun food, time with family, unspoken expectations, living out of suitcases, saying goodbye to your own flesh and blood after trying to launch them in a two week period and so, so, so, much more.  If I tried to describe it to you: you would probably either really enjoy each word, because you were there or are there OR you would be completely bored.  haha  The latter being more true! The bottom line is often, OK like for the last five furloughs, I have returned back to our field assignment completely frazzled.  HHHMMMM????   What????  Furlough is supposed to equal REST. Something about living with other people for five out of the six weeks, didn’t give me the space and time that my personality needs to process and renew. So last year, Darron and I began talking and recognized that we HAD to do something DIFFERENT.  If we were...

I love a day that is graced by the hand of God.  Or maybe it would be more correct to say, I love a day where I recognize and see the grace of the hand of God.  Because I honestly believe it is there everyday.  Undeniably some days His hand is more evident and on our furlough, in a hot tub of all places, in Travelers Rest, South Carolina…..we sat, with mouths literally gaping at God’s hand at work. Let me paint the setting a little more clearly.  We were staying with my parents, who live tucked away in a lovely community.  There is a gorgeous outdoor pool and Darron, Jacob and Nathaniel were seeing if they could swim the full length of the pool without taking a breath.  Darron was just surfacing after swimming the full length when a little (maybe four year old) girl jumped right onto the back of his neck, unaware of his submerged presence.  Other than the shock and initial pain, Darron was fine and we didn’t think anything else about it. A few minutes ...