Skip to main content

10 Months too Late. One Month too Early.

If receiving physical mail in your mail box is rare, here in third world no where, it is almost unheard of.  Actually we don’t have a mail box.  We have a P.O. Box, shared by the Aviation campus here.  Us, like you, delight to received hand written notes. They are so meaningful.  Yet we wouldn’t trade instant communication and modern advances.

At the beginning of November (2017) I was quite surprised to open this envelope: 

Dated: December 6, 2016

26C5CF73-80C6-44D0-BC34-BEE361611752



What a lovely charming Christmas card.  From. Last. Year.  Yes, it was 10 months too late and one month too early. 

95EC3137-C8EC-4155-8062-2CBFC535F859

THANKYOU Auntie Sonia and Uncle Allan!!!!

I actually have been DISAPPOINTED in how few Christmas cards we receive here in the mission field.  Isn’t the point of a Christmas greeting, is to remind people that they are thought of?  In America we would overflow with Christmas cards.  Many of them were handed to us at church by people we saw every week (that kind of humored me also).  Many of them just had the peoples signature on them.  That seemed kind of pointless also. 

So sorry.  I am standing on a little soap box today.  The Christmas Card soap box.  It is not intended to create guilt or remorse. 

Just a gentle reminder that Christmas greetings to people flung around the globe really are meaningful and still appreciated.  Even if they are 10 months too late and one month too early. 

If you would like to hurry up and put your greeting in the mail, it theoretically should be to us in about 2 weeks.  Which leads me to wonder if we have a break down in our mail pick up system?!?  What???…..bah humbug, that could never happen!!!!   ha ha

Excuse my sarcasm. 

We would love to hear from you.  The address is listed above.  Thanks so much!!!!!  And SEASON GREETINGS. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Change Never Happens Fast, Except Today it Did

Today (Wednesday, Nov. 1),  Darron and Gary were leaving on an afternoon flight to the Philippines.  The nicer of our two cars had just been picked up from the repair shop ( it was an alternator this time).  They are at that stage.  Always, something falling apart.  With the mission mobile, we can’t complain.  It is 21 years old!!!!  Darron just popped down to the hanger to fill up the tires with air and I heard him pip the horn at the gate, to indicate he was read to go to the airport.  Yet, he had a different message.  The tire needed repaired…..or more probably replaced. Groan.  There is ONE thing, I disdain as a woman and that is handling car problems.  It’s hard enough to do it in your home country and a language you are fluent in.  Try doing it in a foreign country.  Also to me, it is a MANS world.  If you want to plop me in my discomfort zone, tell me I have to get the car fixed.So off we drive.  Air hissing out of the tire.  The good news, my husband is by my side.  The bad ne…

Anguished Hearts

Image after image flashes through my mind.  I see little but “growing bigger and stronger” two and half year old Azarya coming towards me on the gravel runway.  Wanting to give me a high five and nothing warms my heart more.  Knowing that this is the little boy who drank his way back to life with goats milk.  More images of all over campus this little boy waving at me and smiling shyly, running and playing like normal children should.  Every time I saw him, I rejoiced in the second chance that Jesus had given him.  More images of being with his Mommy and Daddy and their JOY and gratefulness in Ayarya’s strength and change as he transformed before their eyes from being severely malnourished to vibrant.  Ida, his Mommy, is my closest Papua friend, and I see so many images of her and I chatting and laughing together and enjoying her new fat little baby boy, now two months old.  Despite that Ida was still morning the unexpected loss of her father and still mourning the loss of her first c…

I’d Drive a Thousand Miles….if only

I was quite surprised this week when tears began to flow and this crazy Mommy urge to drive a thousand miles to see a boy or two filled my heart. It’s almost time for Thanksgiving break and boy #2 needed some help trying to figure out rides.  From the other side of the world, I am reaching out to friends and family to see who is going where and when and ……  It felt so complicated and difficult. It made me sad….because I recognized that I really just wanted to go and get him myself.  That most kids go home on break.  Most parents go get their kids on break.  Most parents are normal people who work 9-5 jobs and who live within a three to five hour radius of their children’s schools and Universities.  If only …….we were normal.I haven’t written about saying good bye to TWO boys at one time this summer.  Not a week goes by where fellow missionaries and local friends ask me,  “How are you doing without two boys?”  My standard reply is, “They are happy and I am busy, so it hasn’t been too b…