(This is an entry that I've contemplated for many weeks--I just hope I'm able to make it clear and understandable.)
In many ways the life of a missionary is very different from any other way of living. You live day to day with someone else's agenda, spending someone else's money, and quite often, living in someone else's country. Everything you do points to a specific goal which you buy into, but you depend completely upon circumstances, people, and opportunities that you cannot control. If the citizens you live among are closed to your approaches, you make no impact on them. If the funding does not come in (and ours has abundantly--thank you!), you cannot attend to your own basic needs. If the host country doesn't let you in, you cannot live there. The life of a missionary is one of dependence, patience, humility, and service.
Yet, in many regards, missionary living can be just the same as living a life without all of those constraints. Missionaries can just as easily live as if their 'fate is in their own hands'; as if they are the masters of their own destiny. They don't naturally live patiently, humbly, and with a servant's heart. Those qualities have to be sought, honed, and maintained. If you don't actively pursue them, then reckless living--living as if you've come in to rescue the indigenous folks--results and completely mars the very work you're trying to do. You, in the end, become your own worst enemy.
Sadly, this rescuer mentality is the default mode. We Americans (or Westerners for that matter) believe so strongly in ourselves and our way of accomplishing things, that we are convinced we've cornered the market on finances, technology, education, and a multitude of other things. We dominate in so many things and have infinitely more benefits in our lives than just about anyone else around. As an American I too am proud of our advances and would want to have come from no other place.
And that's the rub: When we enter any environment, our American ways naturally kick in and we see the circumstance through American eyes. We notice the messes, the errors, the lack, the shortcomings. We assess with a critical eye, troubleshoot how things could be improved, and then proceed to enact our plan of action. In essence, we're going to ride in on a white horse and rescue the poor souls that so greatly need us. Honestly, if we're not careful, that could somewhat be the undercurrent in all we do here. We live to make an impact, a lasting one in fact. We want to leave these people changed. And we have a good idea of what that change looks like.
But the old adage, "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" is as wise as wise can be. As long as it's not offensive, unlawful, or immoral, one should attempt to live as those who he or she lives among. It's how we walk in their shoes, build lasting connections, and grow in esteem in their eyes. In the Bible, Paul even mentions that he changes himself to be more like those he's living among. To the Jews he's a Jew, and to the gentiles he lives more as a gentile.
The best example, however, is Jesus Himself. Unlike us, Jesus moves into a new place and sees people, not tasks to be done. He sees devastation, disease, heartache, and civil unrest. He must have been overwhelmed by the carnage around Him, yet He didn't take up the cause of everyone He encountered. Instead, He waited for others to approach Him and He frequently asked them what they would like Him to do. Yes, He knew all the answers and He possessed all the cures; He did not take over and dispense His solutions, much to the chagrin of those around Him.
Unsurprisingly, Jesus is the best example of missionary living I can find. He knew that connecting with the people was the utmost priority; the task was so very secondary. It was not about the Sabbath, the Law, the Traditions. It was about the people. That's why He healed on the Sabbath, spoke about loving as the basis of law, ignored a number of the traditions, and ate with sinners. He was completely set on drawing people to Himself but in their environment, not in His own. The Bible even tells us that He left heaven above to come to us, and while here on earth, the Good Book never of speaks of Jesus having a home as an adult. He didn't have one. He always went to the poor, needy, unloved. He always met them on their turf. He always saw them where they lived and met them in their need. He never pushed Himself on anyone. And that is the best thing we could do here.
I wish I would have known this from the beginning--this not to ride in on a white horse. I wish I would have realized that my own rescuer mentality was fully in operation when we arrived. I wish I would have remained quiet in a number of instances. And I wish I would have simply been present and available when needs arose and new friends asked for help. That would have been so much better.
Thankfully, at Casa de Fe, I've done that very thing. I've been supportive and greatly silent about the multitude of things that I would change if I were in charge. I've encouraged, served, and loved--not because I planned it that way, but mainly because I was overwhelmed by the environment and unsure of the right words to use. Praise God that He knew I needed to be put in a lowly position (pre-school helper in the classroom where no one else would ask to be placed) to teach me this lesson.
God is good. He can use even the worst of our mistakes and reach people in spite of ourselves. Thanks for reading. Blessings, kim
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Monday, October 21, 2013
Ambato
On Monday of last week we had the day off from school (Columbus Day) so we were invited along to Ambato by some friends who live nearby. All 10 of us piled into their fairly roomy station wagon and drove the two hours to this fairly densely populated city. We passed through Banos which is an hour up the road and then wound our way further up into the mountains where Ambato is located. While there, Loli and I went to the salon to get haircuts and color (my gray is becoming more pronounced these days) while Doug, Keith, and the kids went to a couple of parks to play. This is our "Before" shot:
This is a shot of the kids playing on a platform in the park. Ziplines in parks are all the rage here. Not terribly safe but very fun.
Apparently the park itself was well manicured and a wonderful place to spend an afternoon. Sad I missed it. Most of Ecuador is not well manicured like this.
After the salon and park, we all met up at ......get this......The MALL! Can you believe?! I'm not much of a mall person. And, I don't really like shopping. Target is about the only place I enjoy going besides the grocery store. Yet, when we pulled up to the mall and I saw that they had a PayLess Shoes, a food court with a KFC, and a MegaMaxi, my heart skipped a beat. I had finally left our small town and made it to the big time.
We started in the huge toy store where we found our husbands and the kids. They were taking the bikes and scooters out for a bit of a spin until a store employee came on the intercom and reminded all the customers that riding toys were for looking at and not trying out. Ooops.
Loli and I escaped the antics there and headed to the MegaMaxi where I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. It was as close to Target as Ecuador gets. It had nativity scenes out just in time for Christmas (just like home!), a sporting goods section, clothes for everyone in the family, shoes, homegoods, and best of all, a wonderful grocery section. I took my own sweet time and slowly strolled up and down every aisle. I smiled at seventeen kinds of pasta, jars of pickles, multiple cheeses (instead of three), a huge assortment of canned goods and I even found Campbell's Soup! There was a 28 oz. jar of Jiff Peanut Butter for $11.88--we got it for a steal at $10.59! Can you believe?! You know we're desperate for peanut butter when even Doug approved such a purchase.
I picked up canned tomatoes and canned beans each for less than $2.00 a can. I passed on the Garbanzo beans (chickpeas) because they were nearly $3.00/can. I grabbed more Barilla Pasta for just over $2.00 a box and I even found Bay Leaves!! Basamati rice, tortilla chips, microwave popcorn, and Kraft Macaroni and Cheese (I didn't pick Kraft up but it was neat seeing the box anyway). I honestly had no idea that I liked packaged goods till I moved to Ecuador. I really thought I was a health food nut. I like granola and fresh fruits and yogurt and ground turkey. I try to lay off of the butter and fried foods and red meat. Yet, I have discovered that the things I miss the most are those things that you can only find in boxes and cans. Who knew?!
On the car ride over to Ambato we had tried some of Loli's snacks which included a bag of fried lima beans. I personally do not like lima beans and I think the rest of our family feels the same. Yet, when she passed them around and none of the Thompsons knew what 'Habas' were, we all gave it a shot. They were surprisingly good. So, we found those at MegaMaxi too and bought a few bags. It was a wonderful day!
On our ride home in the dark and amidst the rain, we experienced a flat tire right as we were headed into Banos. It wasn't nearly as awful as you would expect because we all had full stomachs since we had eaten at the food court before we left and we were fortunate enough to pull into a gas station to change the tire--stations are not on every corner here like they are there. We were a downright giddy little bunch having had a fun day away.
Praise God Loli and I both like our hair cuts--we forgot to take the "After" photo--, we now have a full pantry instead of one mostly barren, and we got to enjoy a bit more of Ecuador with gracious friends willing to spend the day with us.
Thanks for reading! Blessings, kim
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Odds and ends
There have been a number of interesting things here of late that I thought I'd just lump together today. First, Tungarhua, the volcano 30 miles away in Banos that I've written about recently, has been spewing out an amazing amount of ash lately. The locals say this is the norm; I think it's just wild to watch. This morning I captured this picture at about 8 am. The white clouds are just normal clouds. The higher up gray one is the ash from the volcano. This is the view of it from behind our house and the playground that sits behind it.
This is a picture of Selah petting one of the neighbor's chickens. These gals are so tame that they'll let the kids catch them and hang on for a while. Selah and the boys used to ask for chickens but now Selah wants a pet pig. She thinks a quick run to Quito is in order. She doesn't understand that if it took us two months to make it as far as Ambato, then Quito is not really feasible. She may have to settle with a kitten or a bird. Both are in baby form here on the compound.
Today Selah is showing great improvement in her bike riding. Now she only needs a little push to get her going before she's able to go a few yards. She can even make turns on her own.
This is a picture of Selah standing next to my new bike. I bought it from the ten year old that lives next door. He's now graduated to a larger one. Me, I'm not picky. I just need a set of wheels. I'm hoping to buy a set of pegs so that Selah can stand on the back while I peddle. I'm trying my best to make the mile walk to the orphanage more Selah-friendly. She dreads it every morning and on some days it's tough getting her out the door. One day this week we both donned purple capes and went running through town telling everyone we met that we were "Superheroes" on our way to Casa de Fe. Anything to get her there.....
Sethy's turn at holding the chicken:
This week at Bible Club I solicited the help of Sethy and Doug to present my lesson. Sethy volunteered to be Jesus who was spending 40 days in the desert. Doug adeptly played Satan who came to tempt our Savior (a little too adeptly, actually). Here Doug' s attempting to intimidate Sethy and in the picture further below he has put Sethy (Christ) on a mountain top to tempt Him to desire the treasures of this world. As before, the kids were glued. I was thankful for the help.
How'd you like Doug's too small bathrobe worn backwards? I really need to get bigger props.
This is Antony from my three year old class at Casa de Fe who is out to eat for his very first time. He ate everything in site and when he didn't like something, we would spit it out and try to put it back in the bowl or on the serving platter. We got him some juice which he scarfed down in no time. Then he had to go to the bathroom three times in quick succession. Precious.
This is a picture of Sangay, our closest volcano, taken yesterday morning. It is the most beautiful thing but we get to see it so rarely since it's usually covered in clouds. I caught it early though. It looks just like a postcard (except for the powerlines, of course).
Last night the entire missionary community of Shell met up for a going-away party for a family that has been here for five years; their youngest son was even born here in Ecuador. These two friends--both pilots working for Mission Aviation Fellowship (MAF) which Nate Saint worked for decades back--serenaded them in fake wigs and with big buck teeth singing a song called "Mamas, don't let your sons grow up to be doctors". The husband and wife are both doctors and will be sorely missed.
Just yesterday he had to put one of Selah's friends to sleep so he could pull the Polly Pocket shoe out of her nose that she had shoved up it the night before.
Finally, here is a picture of us on that Sunday two weeks ago when we went fishing for our dinner. We're all fairly wet due to the rain that was steadily coming down. The friends that took us there captured this shot of us. Since I lost all the pictures from my camera card that day, it's the only thing we have from that outing besides the fond memories.
Praise God for friends and their photos. Blessings, kim
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Nate Saint Memorial School
Nate Saint Memorial School has thus far been a great place for Doug to lead and the boys to attend school. This is a picture of Doug's office which doubles as a teacher workroom, textbook storeroom, art supply closet, and front office. Doug recently got a computer installed at the big table so now he doesn't have to go to the library to get his work done. Look at that big smile--he loves his job!
On Monday mornings school starts with Chapel time which Doug leads. He begins with prayer, announcements, the kids sing worship songs and share their memory verses, and someone from the community is invited to share a message. Here the kids from the 7th/8th grade class are reciting their verses from the book of Romans.
The school recently purchased equipment to outfit a new computer lab--a much needed expense since the computers they were using dated back to the previous century! Darius and Cobey are sitting next to each other at two of the stations. Doug's excited about the fact that he may begin teaching keyboarding skills to all the kids at the school. Since that's what he used to do as a teacher, this is right up his alley.
Two afternoons a week I have the pleasure of teaching the kids Art. Since in years past Art class was mainly comprised of doing crafts, I have a pretty clean slate to work with. The kids really respond well to my directions and are willing to be creative with their assignments. Some show a fair bit of talent too. What a blessing to get to do this.
Below is a picture of the older bunch of kids. Jacobey is in the foreground working on his painting of a vase with flowers.
Darius and his best friend Sam (who is moving at the end of this week) are further along in their paintings.
Recently the kids in the most advanced Spanish class presented to the rest of the student body their research on various other South American nations. Here is a picture of the kids in the local attire of those countries.
Doug set up a sports day for one Friday afternoon at a local outdoor facility. The entire student body and several parents came and participated in four activities. Below is a picture of Jacobey (in the gray with orange socks?) playing Ultimate Frisby.
Sethy, in baseball attire of course, is here playing soccer. All of our kids have developed an appreciation for the sport.
Darius is standing at the poolside with some of his classmates.
And Selah exited the pool just minutes before.
And the last of the sports was volleyball, my personal favorite. I got to teach the kids some basic volleyball skills before we attempted to play a game. Darius is in the center of the picture and I'm on the far right.
Finally, here is a picture of the entire student body (minus those kids who only take Spanish class and/or Specials such as PE, Art, and Drama) on the steps of Nate Saint's original house. These are the greatest kids and they all come from wonderful families. Sethy's in the front in orange, Jacobey is diagonally up and to the right of him, Darius is up and to the left from Cobey.
Thanks for reading! Blessings, kim
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
A much needed date
We were greatly blessed with some time alone to just reconnect as a couple and to debrief about how our experience has been thus far. It had been over two months since our last date--not terribly long in the big scheme of things, but much had happened in that time period that we really could chat about and take inventory on. So, we hired a sitter who lived right next door and kept in mind that on our compound there are a pediatrician, anesthesiologist, surgeon, nurse, and general practitioner. If any medical emergency were to take place, they might be in better hands now than at any other time in their lives. Best to take that date now while we've got this set up going. So, got dropped off in Banos (ban-yos) and spent time there enjoying the sights. Here is a picture above the city. I'm in a sweater because though it's only about 30 miles from our house, it's up in the Andes Mountains and certainly much colder than the jungle environment where we live.
While we were there we could see the volcano spewing some of it's contents. Sadly I didn't catch the picture of the lava coming down the sides which we saw later. Totally cool!!
Doug and I did some shopping a bit later down in the city and went to the Mega Bodega again where I had a field day buying tortilla chips, granola, pasta, and many other things that either we cannot get or that are outrageously expensive. I also saw my friend Carlos the security guard there who just comes to life when you bring up his faith. I wish I shined like that when I talk about God. (I could, I guess. It is a choice.) Here's a picture of Doug with a box full of treasured items from the store.
We ended up going to lunch at a Swiss restaurant where we enjoyed Tomato Basil Soup and a Caprese Salad (tomato, basil, mozzarella, olive oil). It was just what the doctor ordered. See the smiles on our faces? Oh, the joys of good food and good company.
Just thought I'd share some fun pics. Blessings, kim
Bible Club
For the next four weeks I've been entrusted with the privilege of teaching the Wednesday Bible Club lesson since Sharon who normally leads will be in Florida visiting her kids and grandkids. Ever since she asked me if I'd be willing to take over most of October, I have been greatly looking forward to the chance. I love teaching and this is right up my alley.
Well, volunteering to teach and actually teaching are two different things. When the weekend prior to the first lesson came and I had time to prepare, I hit the books. This lesson would need to be presented in Spanish and in English because each of the kids speak either of the two languages. The lesson would need to be interactive or at least very engaging because many of those in the audience are orphans from Casa de Fe and they have a harder time with listening and staying focused. And, the lesson would need to be about some pretty deep spiritual content because though the "Armor of God" sounds like a really neat boy-friendly topic, it actually represents something much more profound.
The topic for this lesson comes from the book of Ephesians in the Bible, where the author Paul writes to his readers that every Christian should put on the full armor of God, including the Helmet of Salvation--this lesson's specific topic. He doesn't really go into any great depth about what this is, but for this approximately 30 minute lesson, I have to. I got out the Spanish/English dictionary, the bilingual Bible, and some Bible study materials in Spanish on the Armor of God. Most importantly, I did lots of praying for wisdom. And finally the Lord graciously provided the ideas for how to make this work.
I contacted friends who would be there on the day of the lesson and asked them to join me in acting out the importance of the helmet of salvation. I'm so grateful that they accepted because come lesson time, that made all the difference in the world. Kyle played God on the throne. Rick was Jesus. Cory acted as Satan, the enemy. And Asia (love her name!) represented the everyday Joe like us. All the cast were given robes to wear, albeit too small (I had failed to see if they fit ahead of time; my bad--check out the picture below).
We started with Asia and her need for God, just like us. She, like the rest of us, has troubles and a huge need for guidance in her life. She knew that she lacked a lot and could only find help and true salvation through a commitment to Christ. Therefore, we demonstrated her accepting Christ as her Lord and Savior--accepting, believing, and confessing. When she did, Jesus (Rick) came and he told her that she should put on the full Armor of God. He then handed her the Belt of Truth, the Breastplate of Righteousness, the Boots of Readiness of the Gospel of Peace, the Shield of Faith, the Sword of the Spirit, and finally, the Helmet of Salvation. We discussed that this helmet would act as a typical helmet in that it would protect our heads which contains our minds from any dangers that might befall us. Yet this helmet would go beyond that as it would protect us from the lies that Satan (Cory) might try to tell us; lies like "God doesn't love you." "You're too big of a sinner." "He won't forgive you." and "He won't listen to you or answer your prayers." The helmet of salvation is placed on our heads to remind us of the salvation that we have in Christ.
Then Asia walked through life (aka. across the stage) while Cory tried his best to hurl lies at her, telling her everything from "You're ugly," (which we laughed at since these two are married and Asia is absolutely beautiful) to "You can't do anything." Jesus (Rick) instead spoke to God the Father (Kyle) seated on His throne on behalf of Asia telling Him of her salvation. Asia just kept walking toward Jesus and God the Father in spite of Cory's words because her salvation was secure.
The lesson seemed to keep everyone's attention; it's my prayer that it was more than just entertaining. I pray that the kids really do understand that once they put on the full armor of God, they're protected from the enemy's lies. That's something I have to stand on myself. I have to keep remembering that Satan cannot shake the Lord's grip on me. I'm fully His and He's fully mine. You too?
Today we go back to Bible Club and our next and final piece of armor is the Sword of the Spirit--my personal favorite. If you see this blog in time, pray that at 4:00 today (Oct 16) the Spirit will do His amazing work. Blessings, kim
Well, volunteering to teach and actually teaching are two different things. When the weekend prior to the first lesson came and I had time to prepare, I hit the books. This lesson would need to be presented in Spanish and in English because each of the kids speak either of the two languages. The lesson would need to be interactive or at least very engaging because many of those in the audience are orphans from Casa de Fe and they have a harder time with listening and staying focused. And, the lesson would need to be about some pretty deep spiritual content because though the "Armor of God" sounds like a really neat boy-friendly topic, it actually represents something much more profound.
The topic for this lesson comes from the book of Ephesians in the Bible, where the author Paul writes to his readers that every Christian should put on the full armor of God, including the Helmet of Salvation--this lesson's specific topic. He doesn't really go into any great depth about what this is, but for this approximately 30 minute lesson, I have to. I got out the Spanish/English dictionary, the bilingual Bible, and some Bible study materials in Spanish on the Armor of God. Most importantly, I did lots of praying for wisdom. And finally the Lord graciously provided the ideas for how to make this work.
I contacted friends who would be there on the day of the lesson and asked them to join me in acting out the importance of the helmet of salvation. I'm so grateful that they accepted because come lesson time, that made all the difference in the world. Kyle played God on the throne. Rick was Jesus. Cory acted as Satan, the enemy. And Asia (love her name!) represented the everyday Joe like us. All the cast were given robes to wear, albeit too small (I had failed to see if they fit ahead of time; my bad--check out the picture below).
Then Asia walked through life (aka. across the stage) while Cory tried his best to hurl lies at her, telling her everything from "You're ugly," (which we laughed at since these two are married and Asia is absolutely beautiful) to "You can't do anything." Jesus (Rick) instead spoke to God the Father (Kyle) seated on His throne on behalf of Asia telling Him of her salvation. Asia just kept walking toward Jesus and God the Father in spite of Cory's words because her salvation was secure.
The lesson seemed to keep everyone's attention; it's my prayer that it was more than just entertaining. I pray that the kids really do understand that once they put on the full armor of God, they're protected from the enemy's lies. That's something I have to stand on myself. I have to keep remembering that Satan cannot shake the Lord's grip on me. I'm fully His and He's fully mine. You too?
Today we go back to Bible Club and our next and final piece of armor is the Sword of the Spirit--my personal favorite. If you see this blog in time, pray that at 4:00 today (Oct 16) the Spirit will do His amazing work. Blessings, kim
Sunday, October 13, 2013
Fear
Do you ever notice how fear consumes a good deal of your day? How worrying about how something will turn out, or how you will ever manage something, or how you'll survive the next few minutes? These little preoccupations demand so much of our time and attention, they make us so debilitated when it comes to much more important things.
For instance, when we had that very small snake in the house several weeks back, I spent a good deal of time thereafter looking around constantly as I moved about the house, wondering the whole time whether I would encounter another one. Would I find a nest? Where did it come from? Is there a momma snake someplace? Once a couple of weeks had passed, and no other snake materialized but a roach had, I exchanged my continuous search of a snake for the search of another roach. I simply modified the creature I was intent on discovering; my preoccupation remained. I could not relax in my own home.
More recently, Doug and I traveled to Banos over the weekend to celebrate our anniversary by enjoying a few hours of with just the two of us--kids stayed back with a teen sitter who lives next door. While in Banos the volcano there rumbled and smoked for a few hours straight. Eventually there was a loud BOOM at which time we looked up to the top of the cone and found a few slight streams of lava running down its sides. WOW! You don't see that everyday. Fascinating, yet with that sight I felt myself wonder what would happen if there was an eruption. Hmmmmm. I could sense myself beginning to toy with that idea a little too much. This went on for a few minutes until I had to simply decide that I would not allow myself to spend my precious time with Doug playing the 'what if' game in my mind. Time alone is too precious.
A little bit later on the way home from Banos on the bus, the driver was going entirely too fast and taking turns on this very windy, dangerous road as if he were in the Indy 500. Aloud I said more than once, "Please slow down." The drop down the side of the cliff is several hundred feet and in places there is only a one foot high guard rail. I caught myself again considering the possibilities of an accident. Worry was getting the best of me, I was dreading every turn, and I was wasting precious time with Doug.
Those are just some big things (snakes, volcanoes, car accidents), but what about all the instances in the day where I lose time pondering the worst case scenario? I spend energy pondering the possibility of my being late, my kids not getting their wound cleaned properly, their not packing enough for snack time, Selah falling off her bike (she's learning to ride without training wheels), Seth leaning back in this chair too far, their braking a glass as they carry it to the sink, their saying the wrong thing at a social gathering, their relaying the most embarrassing things in mixed company, their not getting their teeth brushed properly, their not washing their hands well before meals, their touching the chickens and all those bugs out there, their contracting an illness, etc. You get the picture.
I could easily justify worrying about these and a million other things. I'm a mom of four living in a foreign land with many dangers lurking around every corner. You reading this probably have multiple reasons to worry as well. Don't we all? Yet, where is all this worry getting me? Or you? As God says, worry will not add one moment to your life. We know too that the opposite is true. Worry, in the form of stress, can often turn into many things that actually shorten your life and make it much less pleasant. Worry does us more harm than good.
So, why do we worry?
Habit.
I come from a long line of worriers.
It needs to be done.
It makes me feel like I'm doing something constructive with the situation.
Seriously!?
Worry---is a lack of trust in God and His perfect timing for everything. Period. When I worry, I don't trust Him. I have put my trust in something else.
For example, as I listened to that volcano rumble, and I felt myself give way to feelings of worry and became very distracted from Doug. I was coming up with a game plan on how if the volcano erupted, we could escape the danger by going in a certain direction....You see, I was trying to come up with the escape route and was trusting in my own ability to find the solution to the problem that MAY happen. Once I saw what was taking place in my mind, I realized that I could spend the next few hours in that state and lose the entire outing to something so useless. I decided then to instead enjoy Doug and use the date time for its intended purpose--reconnect with the one I adore.
On the bus, as I began to feel anxiety and to relive stories that I know about car and bus accidents on this same Banos road, I finally recognized something profound. I saw that when we purchased our tickets at the terminal, we thought we were putting our lives into the bus driver's hands. That lie is so not true. It may seem true but it is a very subtle lie. The bus driver is no more in charge of our lives than is the dentist, the employer, the store clerk, the landlord, the waiter or any other people we encounter. GOD is in charge of our lives. He determines when we live and when we die. He gets to decide all that. He knew every day before any of them came into being and he knows whether today will be our last or not. So, when I worried that the bus driver was going to choose, I was wrong. I was ascribing to him way too much power and to my God way too little. Once I confessed my wee faith on that bus, and remembered that God was in charge of my days and the end of them, I relaxed in my seat and enjoyed the ride so much more.
So, may you discover what you're believing at your core when you worry. I hope you're able to take every thought captive and exchange any lies you may believe for the truth that He is in charge of it all.
Blessings, kim
For instance, when we had that very small snake in the house several weeks back, I spent a good deal of time thereafter looking around constantly as I moved about the house, wondering the whole time whether I would encounter another one. Would I find a nest? Where did it come from? Is there a momma snake someplace? Once a couple of weeks had passed, and no other snake materialized but a roach had, I exchanged my continuous search of a snake for the search of another roach. I simply modified the creature I was intent on discovering; my preoccupation remained. I could not relax in my own home.
More recently, Doug and I traveled to Banos over the weekend to celebrate our anniversary by enjoying a few hours of with just the two of us--kids stayed back with a teen sitter who lives next door. While in Banos the volcano there rumbled and smoked for a few hours straight. Eventually there was a loud BOOM at which time we looked up to the top of the cone and found a few slight streams of lava running down its sides. WOW! You don't see that everyday. Fascinating, yet with that sight I felt myself wonder what would happen if there was an eruption. Hmmmmm. I could sense myself beginning to toy with that idea a little too much. This went on for a few minutes until I had to simply decide that I would not allow myself to spend my precious time with Doug playing the 'what if' game in my mind. Time alone is too precious.
A little bit later on the way home from Banos on the bus, the driver was going entirely too fast and taking turns on this very windy, dangerous road as if he were in the Indy 500. Aloud I said more than once, "Please slow down." The drop down the side of the cliff is several hundred feet and in places there is only a one foot high guard rail. I caught myself again considering the possibilities of an accident. Worry was getting the best of me, I was dreading every turn, and I was wasting precious time with Doug.
Those are just some big things (snakes, volcanoes, car accidents), but what about all the instances in the day where I lose time pondering the worst case scenario? I spend energy pondering the possibility of my being late, my kids not getting their wound cleaned properly, their not packing enough for snack time, Selah falling off her bike (she's learning to ride without training wheels), Seth leaning back in this chair too far, their braking a glass as they carry it to the sink, their saying the wrong thing at a social gathering, their relaying the most embarrassing things in mixed company, their not getting their teeth brushed properly, their not washing their hands well before meals, their touching the chickens and all those bugs out there, their contracting an illness, etc. You get the picture.
I could easily justify worrying about these and a million other things. I'm a mom of four living in a foreign land with many dangers lurking around every corner. You reading this probably have multiple reasons to worry as well. Don't we all? Yet, where is all this worry getting me? Or you? As God says, worry will not add one moment to your life. We know too that the opposite is true. Worry, in the form of stress, can often turn into many things that actually shorten your life and make it much less pleasant. Worry does us more harm than good.
So, why do we worry?
Habit.
I come from a long line of worriers.
It needs to be done.
It makes me feel like I'm doing something constructive with the situation.
Seriously!?
Worry---is a lack of trust in God and His perfect timing for everything. Period. When I worry, I don't trust Him. I have put my trust in something else.
For example, as I listened to that volcano rumble, and I felt myself give way to feelings of worry and became very distracted from Doug. I was coming up with a game plan on how if the volcano erupted, we could escape the danger by going in a certain direction....You see, I was trying to come up with the escape route and was trusting in my own ability to find the solution to the problem that MAY happen. Once I saw what was taking place in my mind, I realized that I could spend the next few hours in that state and lose the entire outing to something so useless. I decided then to instead enjoy Doug and use the date time for its intended purpose--reconnect with the one I adore.
On the bus, as I began to feel anxiety and to relive stories that I know about car and bus accidents on this same Banos road, I finally recognized something profound. I saw that when we purchased our tickets at the terminal, we thought we were putting our lives into the bus driver's hands. That lie is so not true. It may seem true but it is a very subtle lie. The bus driver is no more in charge of our lives than is the dentist, the employer, the store clerk, the landlord, the waiter or any other people we encounter. GOD is in charge of our lives. He determines when we live and when we die. He gets to decide all that. He knew every day before any of them came into being and he knows whether today will be our last or not. So, when I worried that the bus driver was going to choose, I was wrong. I was ascribing to him way too much power and to my God way too little. Once I confessed my wee faith on that bus, and remembered that God was in charge of my days and the end of them, I relaxed in my seat and enjoyed the ride so much more.
So, may you discover what you're believing at your core when you worry. I hope you're able to take every thought captive and exchange any lies you may believe for the truth that He is in charge of it all.
Blessings, kim
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Virus
Last night it hit at about 7 pm and it was terrible! Bathroom visits came every few minutes for the first few hours of the night. Then came aches and chills. The gym down the street provided background music of boom! boom! boom! till 10:00 pm, an hour longer than normal. Thereafter the whole family went to bed while I stayed awake listening to the pattering of the rain as it hit the roof. Have you ever noticed that when you're sick, all of your senses become very acute?
I'm happy to report that bathroom visits ended around noon and that I napped most of the day. I even pulled it together at 2:30 to walk to school to teach art class. The students are learning so much! The highlight of my day. I caught a lift home from one of the teachers, played a game of CandyLand with Selah, and then fell asleep on my bed. Though very weak, I'm so thankful this thing was only a 24 hour bug.
I'm happy to report that bathroom visits ended around noon and that I napped most of the day. I even pulled it together at 2:30 to walk to school to teach art class. The students are learning so much! The highlight of my day. I caught a lift home from one of the teachers, played a game of CandyLand with Selah, and then fell asleep on my bed. Though very weak, I'm so thankful this thing was only a 24 hour bug.
Monday, October 7, 2013
Fish food
Yesterday I began this blog, and when I went to add pictures, I discovered a problem. All 666 of my pictures (interesting number, huh?), with the exception of 2, stored on the camera compact disk were gone. All from the second half of the summer and every picture I've taken here in Ecuador over the last two months are completely erased. I didn't continue writing the blog because I was trying my best to recover what I could from the camera, on the one hand, and I was in complete disbelief over such a loss on the other. Yet, today as I check once more, the pictures remain deleted and I am stumped as to what happened.
In my frustration with the camera and the disk, I decided to leave them both home this morning for chapel (the Monday morning gathering in the library where we worship, the kids present their memory work, and someone from the community delivers a short message from the Bible). Well, I shouldn't have so hastily punished my camera and chip because I soon regretted their not being with me. We missed out on those great shots this morning too--the construction of a toy helicopter to symbolize the unity of a Christian church body. As the saying goes, I cut off my own nose to spite my face. I'm constantly learning how to roll with the punches. So, though I have no great shots to share with you like I had planned, I do have a nice story of a very pleasant outing. After much delay, here goes:
Some friends picked us up for an outing in the direction of Banos. Russ, Kyleen, and A. J., long time missionaries originally from Texas, drove us into the mountain foothills west of Shell for about 30 minutes. We wound our way up and around the Pastaza River and then deeper into the countryside of another Ecuadorian province. When we arrived in the sprinkling rain the restaurant parking lot revealed a crowd of people ready to do as we had also planned: go fishing for our lunch. Amidst the hoards we found a bunch of very basic fishing poles resting against posts. The poles consisted of a stick of bamboo, about three yards of fishing line, and a hook. We each grabbed one and pierced a piece of fish guts with the hook and tossed our line into the water. The moment the bait hit the water, numerous foot-long trout fought hard to dislodge the tasty (?) morsel.
This part of our day took all of about 3 minutes: catch, unhook, and deposit into rudimentary bucket nine unsuspecting fish. Mine happened to be a rainbow trout--first one I've ever caught--not really sure it counts if it took zero effort.
Russ, the leader of our pack, hauled the bucket to the little shack nearby to have a knife-wielding young man remove the guts (and the heads off three) of the nine fish. Once the deed was done, all were bagged up and thrown on the scale. Russ paid $16.30 for these nine fish and we carried our bag up the hill to the restaurant.
The ladies in the kitchen take it from there. One scrapes the fish exterior under constant running water while another opens the fish wide to clean the inside and to rub in a mixture of salt and lime. She also makes about eight parallel cuts down the side of each fish to facilitate the cooking process. The fish sit momentarily to absorb these flavors then are handed to the person manning the grill just outside their window. This tall, sweaty fellow then scrubs the grill and lays out all nine newly caught trout over the hot coals. After about 10 minutes, and three turns, the fish are removed and handed back to the ladies in the kitchen. One grabs fresh plates and piles on them steamed rice, salad of tomato with onion and lettuce, and fried plantains (bananas). Lastly the fish are added to the plates and then some brave, strong woman brings all nine plates in one armful to our two tables.
It was a sight to behold. Eyes staring down at the plates while eyes stared up at their captors. No one balked at the situation; since our children love eating with their fingers and for this meal it was highly encouraged, no one minded their food watching. Suffice it to say, three of our four children passed on eating their plantains, but not on the fish. At meal's end, the only thing left on their plates were fish carcasses and charred skin. Doug and I agreed that this was the best meal we'd had since our arrival into Ecuador. It was so delicious and as fresh as one could get.
If any of you makes the journey here, we're taking you to the river and the restaurant atop the hill. Best fish you'll ever catch and eat!
Blessings, kim
In my frustration with the camera and the disk, I decided to leave them both home this morning for chapel (the Monday morning gathering in the library where we worship, the kids present their memory work, and someone from the community delivers a short message from the Bible). Well, I shouldn't have so hastily punished my camera and chip because I soon regretted their not being with me. We missed out on those great shots this morning too--the construction of a toy helicopter to symbolize the unity of a Christian church body. As the saying goes, I cut off my own nose to spite my face. I'm constantly learning how to roll with the punches. So, though I have no great shots to share with you like I had planned, I do have a nice story of a very pleasant outing. After much delay, here goes:
Some friends picked us up for an outing in the direction of Banos. Russ, Kyleen, and A. J., long time missionaries originally from Texas, drove us into the mountain foothills west of Shell for about 30 minutes. We wound our way up and around the Pastaza River and then deeper into the countryside of another Ecuadorian province. When we arrived in the sprinkling rain the restaurant parking lot revealed a crowd of people ready to do as we had also planned: go fishing for our lunch. Amidst the hoards we found a bunch of very basic fishing poles resting against posts. The poles consisted of a stick of bamboo, about three yards of fishing line, and a hook. We each grabbed one and pierced a piece of fish guts with the hook and tossed our line into the water. The moment the bait hit the water, numerous foot-long trout fought hard to dislodge the tasty (?) morsel.
This part of our day took all of about 3 minutes: catch, unhook, and deposit into rudimentary bucket nine unsuspecting fish. Mine happened to be a rainbow trout--first one I've ever caught--not really sure it counts if it took zero effort.
Russ, the leader of our pack, hauled the bucket to the little shack nearby to have a knife-wielding young man remove the guts (and the heads off three) of the nine fish. Once the deed was done, all were bagged up and thrown on the scale. Russ paid $16.30 for these nine fish and we carried our bag up the hill to the restaurant.
The ladies in the kitchen take it from there. One scrapes the fish exterior under constant running water while another opens the fish wide to clean the inside and to rub in a mixture of salt and lime. She also makes about eight parallel cuts down the side of each fish to facilitate the cooking process. The fish sit momentarily to absorb these flavors then are handed to the person manning the grill just outside their window. This tall, sweaty fellow then scrubs the grill and lays out all nine newly caught trout over the hot coals. After about 10 minutes, and three turns, the fish are removed and handed back to the ladies in the kitchen. One grabs fresh plates and piles on them steamed rice, salad of tomato with onion and lettuce, and fried plantains (bananas). Lastly the fish are added to the plates and then some brave, strong woman brings all nine plates in one armful to our two tables.
It was a sight to behold. Eyes staring down at the plates while eyes stared up at their captors. No one balked at the situation; since our children love eating with their fingers and for this meal it was highly encouraged, no one minded their food watching. Suffice it to say, three of our four children passed on eating their plantains, but not on the fish. At meal's end, the only thing left on their plates were fish carcasses and charred skin. Doug and I agreed that this was the best meal we'd had since our arrival into Ecuador. It was so delicious and as fresh as one could get.
If any of you makes the journey here, we're taking you to the river and the restaurant atop the hill. Best fish you'll ever catch and eat!
Blessings, kim
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Little Faces
Yesterday's visit to Casa de Fe began with some fireworks--Selah didn't want to go. I woke her just before departure time--a mistake. She was not willing to make the mile trek so soon after waking up and was very clear about her displeasure. I tried getting teeth brushed, clothes on, and breakfast in, but she would have very little of that. Thankfully, I spotted her favorite purple dress and was able to coax her into it.
Promising to carry her for part of the journey, we headed out with bread in hand and last night's hairdo in place (a French braid). As we headed for Casa we chatted about the sights and sounds of the day in our small town of Shell. Selah began to warm up and even willingly ran down the big hill for a few yards with me. Before I knew it, we had reached the river's edge, the bridge, and the base of the hill where Casa is located. Her pleading for water began then and continued for a few minutes--it was a pretty warm day with a hot equatorial sun. We made our way upwards and I eventually saw in the distance our two classes making their way toward us, little hands clutching the rope, little heads covered by ballcaps to keep out the sun. Immediately I could sense Selah tense up for she knew what I did: our classes would be walking back into town and back--another mile added to our day's journey.
Nelly, in the lead, approached us first and greeted us with kisses on the cheek. So many little faces smiled our way and tried their best to say, Buenos Dias. Marjorie and our extra Tia for the day provided more kisses.
Instead of joining them on their journey, we continued up the hill so that we could secure a glass of water for Selah. We asked for a big cup and were told we could take it with us. Praise God. All the way back down the hill Selah sipped on her water and we eventually caught up with the little line of three and four year olds. We all crossed the bridge together and headed up the fairly steep hill that takes us back into town (where we had just come from only minutes before).
Selah quickly discovered that this walk was going to be a longer one than the one I wrote about two weeks ago. She noticed that we had passed our previous turn around point and began to wonder where we were headed. Since her Spanish is still very limited she was unaware that we'd be going to the central park--fully in the center of town and about two-thirds of the way home.
We walked closer and closer to town and discussed dogs, houses, people, school children, and all other things along the way. All children, Selah included, gazed around with much interest at these sights.
When we arrived at the park, all wee ones were told they could let go of the rope and play to their hearts' desire. Oh, the joy!
Antony looking downward from the top of the jungle gym.
Edison
Promising to carry her for part of the journey, we headed out with bread in hand and last night's hairdo in place (a French braid). As we headed for Casa we chatted about the sights and sounds of the day in our small town of Shell. Selah began to warm up and even willingly ran down the big hill for a few yards with me. Before I knew it, we had reached the river's edge, the bridge, and the base of the hill where Casa is located. Her pleading for water began then and continued for a few minutes--it was a pretty warm day with a hot equatorial sun. We made our way upwards and I eventually saw in the distance our two classes making their way toward us, little hands clutching the rope, little heads covered by ballcaps to keep out the sun. Immediately I could sense Selah tense up for she knew what I did: our classes would be walking back into town and back--another mile added to our day's journey.
Nelly, in the lead, approached us first and greeted us with kisses on the cheek. So many little faces smiled our way and tried their best to say, Buenos Dias. Marjorie and our extra Tia for the day provided more kisses.
Instead of joining them on their journey, we continued up the hill so that we could secure a glass of water for Selah. We asked for a big cup and were told we could take it with us. Praise God. All the way back down the hill Selah sipped on her water and we eventually caught up with the little line of three and four year olds. We all crossed the bridge together and headed up the fairly steep hill that takes us back into town (where we had just come from only minutes before).
Selah quickly discovered that this walk was going to be a longer one than the one I wrote about two weeks ago. She noticed that we had passed our previous turn around point and began to wonder where we were headed. Since her Spanish is still very limited she was unaware that we'd be going to the central park--fully in the center of town and about two-thirds of the way home.
We walked closer and closer to town and discussed dogs, houses, people, school children, and all other things along the way. All children, Selah included, gazed around with much interest at these sights.
When we arrived at the park, all wee ones were told they could let go of the rope and play to their hearts' desire. Oh, the joy!
Antony looking downward from the top of the jungle gym.
Edison
Denis
Carla looking sweaty
Poor Diego always looking beat up
Ester checking things out
Moises crossing the bridge
We played for probably 30 minutes on all the equipment which included time on the seesaws, a truly horrifying experienced since the metal planks the kids sit on are waaaaaaay too heavy. When a partner slides off of his/her side of the seesaw, the other child goes slamming to the ground with the full force of gravity. Of course all the kids discovered the seesaws at the same time so we had 10 kids experimenting with this toy simultaneously. Very nerve wrecking!
Then we headed out. We eventually convinced every child to grab the rope and head back out of town toward Casa. Selah's disposition changed. No longer did she want to walk. As Marjorie left the group momentary to go buy popcicles for everyone, I convinced Selah to hang in there just a bit longer. Sweet, cold treats are a draw for any child. We walked all the way down the hill, crossed the bridge, and sat in the shade to enjoy our refreshment.
When all popcicles were done, we got up to leave and I assured Selah that we would not accompany the group back to Casa de Fe. We'd help them to accumulate all little hands for the rope and then we'd make our way home. She was greatly relieved and willing to make the 2/3 mile walk back from there.
We arrived home and 40 minutes later had to head out for the school where Selah takes Spanish with Senora Rocio for 30 minutes--it's a half mile walk away. ; )
You'll be happy to know that she survived and even came home later with a smile on her face.
Blessings, kim
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Struggling
It's been hard to blog over the past few days. We've been sideswiped by things that are a bit bigger than the previous more minor issues (well, if you consider killing a snake in the house a 'minor' issue). Nothing of recent is terribly earth-shattering, but it is pretty big to us: the discovery of two continuing infestations, the closing of the hospital, an unwelcome end to Selah's time in her classroom at school, and bug bites eating our legs to pieces. Yet we in our world have felt the earth move beneath our feet--it 'feels' like it's earth shattering.
I well know that when people move out of their country of origin and into a new locale, they go through stages of settling in--it's called Culture Shock and everyone experiences it. Doug and I, having lived overseas previously, have been through it before. The honeymoon phase starts the entire progression and may last a few weeks to a few months; the next phases are much less pleasant. Since we're seven weeks in, we know that from now until about the seven month mark we'll find life irritating, frustrating, and illogical. You'll be happy to know that we're typical travelers and we're reacting much in the way you'd expect. We're irritated, frustrated, and find things here illogical.
Well, as you would guess, there's very little fun in that. We don't look pleased or act in the least bit friendly. It honestly is a less than attractive way to live. The brilliance of our faces has dimmed and the animation previously present in our attitude has subsided.
Yet, didn't we come here to be lights? to serve? to talk about the amazing nature of Jesus? to bless those who we now live among? That's the rub. What do you do when you've been sent on a mission (as 'missionaries' no less) and you have little joy and little desire to be giving and generous? By the time we process through our emotions and get through these stages, most of our time here will be over and much of our blessing of others will instead look like cursing (or being less than friendly at least). What to do?
That's why it's been hard to write. I don't want my crummy attitude to show to those who currently live vicariously through me. I don't want to seem to be the 'unhappy and ungrateful missionary'. Why would anyone want to financially support or read about something so melancholy?
Well, that's why I have to write. If I don't report my feelings, then I'm hiding and hypocritical. And if I write when I'm at my worst, then I'm snarky and unpleasant. I've been sorting through these feelings and know that, once again, I simply cannot live by feelings. I can be aware of them and notice how they're impacting my attitude or my word choices or my tone. But I cannot live by them as if they are the driving force in my life. Yes, the days here are hard and yes the events surrounding us are in no way, shape, or form controlled by us. Yes, these are trying times. But, though I cannot determine much here, I can determine how I will react to it all. Better said, I can determine how I will respond to it.
If I choose to respond with great anger, depression, and anxiety, then my time as a missionary--as a representative of Christ to this small town--is all for not, and many people have wasted their money and you have wasted your time following my testimonies. As the Bible says, we do not overcome evil by doing evil. We overcome evil by doing good. Doing good...... I have to decide to do good anyway.
So, I'm once again (this is becoming a daily occurrence) deciding to see the beauty and to live a life of joy in spite of how I feel. "The joy of the Lord is my strength." That is a good scripture to memorize and to replay over and over in my head. It is true. When I decide to be full of joy and not of bitterness or anxiety or frustration, then I am waaaaaaaaaay stronger and more able to do what I'm called to do.
So....one more story to tell. Yesterday was a wonderful day at Casa de Fe with the three-year-olds. Nelly was teaching them the difference between salty, sweet, and sour. She had a bag of salt, a bag of sugar, and a small green lime. All the kids sat with their little mouths open much like baby birds as she would place fingers-full of salt or sugar on their tongue and question them as to whether the taste was 'sweet' or 'salty'. Everyone was content and full of attention for Nelly. Next she peeled the lime and gave the kids lime quarters to suck on as she reinforced 'lime' and 'sour'. Their little faces would scrunch up making laugh. The best laugh though came when one of the children passed gas and we were completely overwhelmed with the smell. We then commented at how terrible it was and wondered out loud, in Spanish, "Que es esto? (what is that?)" when one of the kids shouted, "limon" (lime!).
So, go and make lemonade out of 'limon'.
Sweet added to the sour sure makes for a better drink.
Blessings, kim
I well know that when people move out of their country of origin and into a new locale, they go through stages of settling in--it's called Culture Shock and everyone experiences it. Doug and I, having lived overseas previously, have been through it before. The honeymoon phase starts the entire progression and may last a few weeks to a few months; the next phases are much less pleasant. Since we're seven weeks in, we know that from now until about the seven month mark we'll find life irritating, frustrating, and illogical. You'll be happy to know that we're typical travelers and we're reacting much in the way you'd expect. We're irritated, frustrated, and find things here illogical.
Well, as you would guess, there's very little fun in that. We don't look pleased or act in the least bit friendly. It honestly is a less than attractive way to live. The brilliance of our faces has dimmed and the animation previously present in our attitude has subsided.
Yet, didn't we come here to be lights? to serve? to talk about the amazing nature of Jesus? to bless those who we now live among? That's the rub. What do you do when you've been sent on a mission (as 'missionaries' no less) and you have little joy and little desire to be giving and generous? By the time we process through our emotions and get through these stages, most of our time here will be over and much of our blessing of others will instead look like cursing (or being less than friendly at least). What to do?
That's why it's been hard to write. I don't want my crummy attitude to show to those who currently live vicariously through me. I don't want to seem to be the 'unhappy and ungrateful missionary'. Why would anyone want to financially support or read about something so melancholy?
Well, that's why I have to write. If I don't report my feelings, then I'm hiding and hypocritical. And if I write when I'm at my worst, then I'm snarky and unpleasant. I've been sorting through these feelings and know that, once again, I simply cannot live by feelings. I can be aware of them and notice how they're impacting my attitude or my word choices or my tone. But I cannot live by them as if they are the driving force in my life. Yes, the days here are hard and yes the events surrounding us are in no way, shape, or form controlled by us. Yes, these are trying times. But, though I cannot determine much here, I can determine how I will react to it all. Better said, I can determine how I will respond to it.
If I choose to respond with great anger, depression, and anxiety, then my time as a missionary--as a representative of Christ to this small town--is all for not, and many people have wasted their money and you have wasted your time following my testimonies. As the Bible says, we do not overcome evil by doing evil. We overcome evil by doing good. Doing good...... I have to decide to do good anyway.
So, I'm once again (this is becoming a daily occurrence) deciding to see the beauty and to live a life of joy in spite of how I feel. "The joy of the Lord is my strength." That is a good scripture to memorize and to replay over and over in my head. It is true. When I decide to be full of joy and not of bitterness or anxiety or frustration, then I am waaaaaaaaaay stronger and more able to do what I'm called to do.
So....one more story to tell. Yesterday was a wonderful day at Casa de Fe with the three-year-olds. Nelly was teaching them the difference between salty, sweet, and sour. She had a bag of salt, a bag of sugar, and a small green lime. All the kids sat with their little mouths open much like baby birds as she would place fingers-full of salt or sugar on their tongue and question them as to whether the taste was 'sweet' or 'salty'. Everyone was content and full of attention for Nelly. Next she peeled the lime and gave the kids lime quarters to suck on as she reinforced 'lime' and 'sour'. Their little faces would scrunch up making laugh. The best laugh though came when one of the children passed gas and we were completely overwhelmed with the smell. We then commented at how terrible it was and wondered out loud, in Spanish, "Que es esto? (what is that?)" when one of the kids shouted, "limon" (lime!).
So, go and make lemonade out of 'limon'.
Sweet added to the sour sure makes for a better drink.
Blessings, kim
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