Fresh Perspective

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 ...

I am ashamed to say that somewhere in the weeks of preparing for our two oldest sons to leave the nest, the urgency and criticalness of his little life were lost on me.  In the back of my mind I knew that there was a LITTLE boy.  WEIGH to LITTLE (an intentional spelling mistake!!!!).  I just couldn’t get to him.  The last two weeks of May were filled to the brim.  Both with activities and preparations of graduation, of boys taking that step of leaving the family with only the intentions of coming back to visit.  They were also filled to the brim with emotions.  Oh mercy.  This Mommy didn’t like the process of letting two boys go at once. Couldn’t they take turns or go in order?  On one hand I was rejoicing at their success and maturity and achievements and goals and on the other hand I was grieving their double departure.  I grasped for every moment to play another game of tennis or linger for another little talk or savor one more meal ...

I found myself early this past Monday dragging a small rolling suitcase through the non user friendly parking lot of our local commercial airport.  My heart deceiving me.  On one hand it is especially excited to be going to see Darron who has been away for ten days already and on the other hand it is reluctant to leave four boys alone.  Also, usually I don’t struggle with aerophobia……but it was nagging in the back of my mind as unfortunately too many airplane mishaps happen to this particular destination.  Yet I knew that fear cannot rule and deceitful hearts must be held in check.  So before I know it, we’ve safely touched down in Wamena.  The largest city supplied by air only.  Nestled by mountains on either side, this wide valley is an odd and delightful mixture of modern gas stations and a new hotel to within minutes of the city men in gourds and thousands of people living still very primitively.  The cool air is amazingly refreshing after mon...

This has been the school year of GIRLS!  Which has been quite a contrast to our houseful of boys. Little did I know last summer when Darron told me we would be having three student missionaries how that would impact me.  Oh, I knew that there would be time investment involved but I had no idea how it would look and flesh out into reality.    Now that OUR journey together in Papua has come to a close, I must reflect.  Lately I have likened the girls to being here like wearing a pair of warm gloves on a winter day.  At first putting the gloves on felt cumbersome and unnatural and it limited my motions and took lots of extra time.  Now I hardly think as the girls slip in and out of my days.  The glove of them just slides right on and right off again.  When plans get changed and they don’t show up in our normal routine, I find myself wondering about them and praying……..as If I’ve misplaced my gloves and it is cold. Predictably spring has arri...