The 10th Christmas

  Ten Thanksgivings. Nine Christmases. That is a lot of holidays to spend without family. It spans a young child becoming a teen or a teen becoming a young adult. Ten Thanksgivings without grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins equals a decade of memories not made. Nine Christmas’s apart is not a frivolous moment in time, but instead it represents a depth of understanding and experience. This is what our lives of living overseas has cost. 8 of those in Indonesia, and the latter in Lebanon. Those holidays have stretched us, as they have a way of highlighting choices made, unimaginable distance, and our unavailability. Even. To. Our. Children. It is rather ironic that on this tenth Christmas holiday we are flying to the USA. One would think that with a national pandemic threatening to undo our fragile world, and clear advice to not gather that this would be the one holiday that we would dutifully stay. But no. Crazy as it feels, the need to be present in our 15- and 17-year old’s liv

Leaving Strong

One and a half week ago I laid in bed for forty eight hours.  Doctor ordered bed rest.  I had been struggling with back pain for three weeks. Clearly injured my back somehow.  It had been getting mostly worse.  To the point that I had stopped exercising and began to think through most moves. “ Could I or couldn’t I do this move without pain?”  It was becoming chronic and I was becoming frazzled.  Undone.  Loosing hope of being well.  My family pondered if we would be scooting through airports with me in a wheelchair with our rapidly approaching furlough.  The Monday after resting in bed all weekend, I felt much better, but extremely cautious.  That day Darron whirled in and out of the house with millions of things on his mind and hundreds of assignments and loose ends to wrap up before his early morning departure on Tuesday.  I watched him in disbelief at all he had left to do and recognized that my hinted at (but not posted) “honey do list” was falling beside the wayside.  Also I was

Treacherous Steps

It’s not everyday that Twenty-First century husbands step out the door for a few weeks of trekking in the jungle.  Many of those steps Darron took were treacherous ones, as they crossed high passes with land slides and eroded trails.  I processed Darron’s leaving a few weeks ago in the blog:  Now we have fast forwarded two weeks later and there are so many more events to process.  Some that I must hold in the hidden places of my heart (to ponder and pray on), and some events I want to share with you.  Thank you for caring enough to read and pray.  You have no idea what a significant and indispensable part of the team you are.  Surprisingly, I ended up hearing from Darron far more than we had originally anticipated.  A major focus of the government has been to recognize that a right of the tribal people is to have communication.  So more and more cell towers are cropping up in remote places.  This is

Giving Strength

For the last five months, giving strength, has become a very heightened concept in my life.  I recognize that it is a gift (for both the giver and the receiver) and I believe it flows from Jesus through our imperfect vessels.  Have you experienced it?  Giving strength to someone else?  Have you understood that the time you spent listening to a person or encouraging them, gave strength?  For me, I have learned it most, through my Papua friend Ida.  If you read these blogs frequently you will quickly remember Ida’s painful story ( ).   A story of high hopes only to be crushed by cruel death, taking not only one of her children, but two in the span of less than nine years.  I knew when her second son died that I would walk closely with Ida.  In the valley of death.    Honestly there have been days when I have not felt that I had an ounce of strength to share and those are the days that I was probably used the most. Giving str

I Will Walk, Because We Have No Planes.

It is no secret that we have no planes that can currently fly at Adventist Aviation.  One is down for repairs and one is down for a major inspection/over-haul.  Meanwhile, the work interior and the requests continue to build and weigh on those who carry them.  So last week, Darron declared, “I will walk, because we have no planes.”  Well…..ok, then””.  Isn’t that the appropriate missionary wife response?  But honestly, this trip pushes my flexibility buttons to their peak flex.  Darron left this morning.  Dressed like a hiker with long pants and shirt and broad rimmed hat.  Big back pack.  And only the essentials.  This is the outline he gave me: “Fly commercial into Oxibil.  Walk 2 days to Tinnibil with Jackson.  Spend Saturday in Tinnibil.  Sunday a.m. walk to Okyop.  It should be a six hour hike and there will be phone signal in Okyop.  Be there one week.  Following Sunday walk to Seminka.  2 days.  Spend one day/evening there.  Walk one more day to Batom.  There should be signal th

Happy Wet Children. Scared Dry Mountain Woman. Our Journey.

What joy to reach a new milestone in the Boyd family history.  Yes, we are officially parents of four teenager sons .  This past week our youngest, Nathaniel, turned thirteen.  Tipping the scale to more than half of his birthdays now celebrated in Indonesia.  Six in America.  Seven here.  Who knows how this time in Papua will affect all of our boys, but especially Nathaniel?  We have enjoyed all the stages of our children, yet contrary to the popular opinion, we really enjoy the teen years where our children grow from boys to young men.  Nathaniel’s desires for his birthday were simple enough.  He wanted to invite all the boys in his class to join him at Lake Sentani for some fun time at the dock.  We decided to go this Friday as it was a half day because of science fair.  (Boy Parental Observation:  A sure sign that boys are growing up, is when they dress up without being told to).  So after a quick lunch, 6 boys loaded into the car, along with Darron and I.  I was so appreciative tha

Tribal War Fear

Since third or fourth grade I have been reading mission books.  I LOVE a good story, but especially a TRUE story.  When things start happening in our lives, like I think belongs in one of those books, I shake my head in wonder.  And wide eyed anticipation.  And sometimes fear.  I mean we are almost to the year two thousand and twenty.  And my husband posts yesterday on Facebook that hundreds of tribal men are lining the road with bows and arrows, spears, machetes, and axes (near Heberima, a 45 minute commercial flight and a 20 minute motorcycle ride from our city).  They are painted in tribal war readiness and have pigs teeth piercing the septum of their noses.  What!!!?!   How was your husband’s day on the job?  We received some “red flags” on Sabbath afternoon when texts started coming into Darron’s phone from Papua students from that area (that are studying here in town).  Warning Darron to be careful when travelling.  This is unusual.  So, of course, Darron proceeded to follow up.