Further Cooking Lessons

Pie Update:  I forgot to update everyone on my apple pies!  Even though I wasn’t able to taste for myself (boo-hiss on the ‘flu!) Mary Ellen told me it was delicious, and Sissy said every last bit was gone!  I think my mom (who made a mean pie in her day) would have been proud!

It is Sunday evening, and I’ve just finished cooking up a pot of curried lentils.  The curry powder and garam masala with which I seasoned them were freshly made.  I may not have shipped enough long-sleeved shirts, but I made sure I didn’t skimp on my spices!

To make garam masala, it’s necessary to first toast whole spices in a pan over low heat.  My favorite garam masala recipe has eleven separate spices in varying quantities.  It needs more than 2tbsp of several of them (like cinnamon, coriander, cumin, cardamom, cloves), and around a teaspoon of others (fennel, nutmeg, mace).  

As I measured and poured, the bottom of my small pan was quickly covered.  The final spice needed was saffron. You probably already know this, but saffron is the world’s most expensive spice, made by carefully hand-picking the stigma of a specific crocus flower. 

The amount of saffron for this recipe was 1/16 of a tsp.  That equates to around 4 of those precious strands. 

Looking in my pan, I hesitated with whether or not to add the saffron.  I only shipped one teeny bottle (I’m not kidding about it being expensive!) so every bit counts. 

As I said, the pan bottom was covered, altogether around ½ cup’s worth of other spices.  Would I even miss the saffron after toasting and grinding up all the rest?  How would those few strands add anything?

And, that got me to thinking about my little life in the midst of all the big stuff going on.  I allow myself to get overwhelmed with the immensity of the problems and concerns of the people of El Callejon. 

I don’t think I’m alone in sometimes feeling like there’s nothing much I can do in the face of the kind of brokenness and evil present in the world.  It’s too much, too hard, others can do so much more.  Who’d even notice if I don’t show?

I noticed a tiny speck of saffron had fallen onto a wet spot on the counter.  As small as it was, it began ‘blooming’, turning the water bright yellow.  Had I allowed it to stay, the color would have continued to spread, permanently staining the counter top. 

Leaning down, I could smell its distinct perfume.  It didn’t realize it was too small to make an impact.  It just did what it was created to do.

That decided it.  Into the pan went the saffron strands.  And, as my simple lentils elevated into a delectable dish, can attest to, it was definitely the right call!     

Oh Father, thank you!  Thank you that you have given each one of us a place in Your amazing plan of redemption.   Thank you, Jesus, for purchasing us at a great price.  Holy Spirit, all alone we can feel so small and weak.  Bloom in us so that we live lives which impact the world for God’s glory.  May we be a sweet perfume to You, Triune God.   

Broken Hearts and Battle Cries

It’s strange to think back to where I was at one year ago. Over Thanksgiving then I was fasting and struggling with my ‘thorn’, my thinning hair.  I hate having to confess it continues to be a struggle for me, but the truth is, it does.

I don’t know I’ll ever be able to embrace it, but that’s okay as the nature of a thorn is not to be embraced.  Instead, I continue to pray God will use the insecurity it gives me to soften me, and cause me to lean more and more into His grace and strength.

A year ago, I was just beginning to process the reality of leaving all I knew.  Facing support-raising, packing, saying goodbyes.  Of trying to be equipped through mission training and language school.  Of finding a home, car, my place in the DR…

What a journey God has led me on!  As I look back, I can truly say my heart is full of thanksgiving.  Not because it’s all been easy.  It’s still not.  In fact, right now, it feels like the ‘real’ work is beginning. 

When I interviewed, Nate and Lowell asked me what I wanted God to do in me as I ministered here.  Without thinking, I said the first thing that popped into my mind, “Break my heart for what breaks Yours” which is part of a praise song called Hosanna by Hillsong.    

A year ago I was digesting coming here.  Now, I’m learning to digest the reality of staying.  On short-term trips, I brushed the surface of issues, and then left.  Yes, my heart was touched, but simply touched. 

Now, my heart is being pierced and penetrated.  I shared some of the issues we’re facing on our Social Work site blog  http://meetingjesusinelcallejon.blogspot.com/  The problems are oppressively big, without simple solutions.  Friends, my heart is being broken, sometimes multiple times in one day!

But in the brokenness, I’ve been hearing a whisper, growing louder with each passing week.  The noise is resolving itself into a clear battle cry.  A cry to join in the fight for God’s beloved children in El Callejon.  I know talk about battles is not always welcome, but what other word fits?

The longer I’m here, the more convinced I am that Satan wants El Callejon for himself.  To me, it says that Satan sees something about El Callejon worth fighting for.  Do I?  The fact that he’s fighting so dirty says he sees there’s a threat to his control.  Do I? 

Am I clothing myself each morning in the Armor of God so that I can stand firm against the attacks of the enemy of El Callejon? 

Oh, Father, the things going on in El Callejon surely must break Your heart.  Thank you for the privilege of having my heart break, too, as You continue to work in me, transforming me. 

Please give Daisy and me Your strength, courage and perseverance in this battle.  Thank you that we fight not for victory, but in victory - in the victory Jesus has already won.  Holy Spirit, remind us of that truth each day.  Teach us how to stand not in our own strength, but in Yours alone.

Easy as Pie?

A couple of weeks ago my wonderful friend Mary Ellen asked if I’d like to help with the Thanksgiving Dinner we’re serving for the staff and Semester Students.  I love cooking, so was excited to help.  How about apple pies?  Sure!

Flash forward to this afternoon.   I used to know how to make apple pie.  With pie crust from scratch.  I really, really did.  Of course, that was when I was living with my family.  More than 25 years ago.  Oh, man, what was I thinking?!

The recipe I used was in English, and pretty much had four steps.  Make the crust, cut up the apples, make a sauce and pour over, bake. 

I can tackle an Indian recipe with spices that need roasting and grinding, chicken that needs deboning, marinating, and sautéing and rice that needs to be rinsed, soaked, sautéed with spices and simmered gently covered with saffron I’ve allowed to bloom…

But these three steps about did me in!  Working in a strange kitchen didn’t help.  Neither did my pitiful apple peeling skills.  For the record, peeling and slicing 16 Granny Smiths takes a long time.  The crust was from a box, so at least I didn’t have to fight with flour and Crisco!

The sauce had lots of butter plus both white and brown sugar.  I was to bring to a boil and then let simmer.  The mixture started boiling, and I couldn’t get the gas burner turned down quickly enough.  Suddenly it boiled over. 

It occurred to me that with a gas stove, this was a potential explosion.  Quick off the stove and to the sink, trailing yummy hot liquid as I went.

One of our sweet kitchen staff was sitting nearby.  I’m sure she thought I was trying to burn the place down!  Millie, our awesome head cook, came in, and watched me try and make the lattice topping. 

Even though she doesn’t know English, she kept glancing at the recipe, concern very evident on her face.  Here we go again, another American who doesn’t know what she’s doing!

The pies are now in the oven baking for tomorrow’s Thanksgiving Feast. They are about halfway done.  I just peaked, and it wasn’t a heartening sight.  Sigh.  As I’ve blogged before, I don’t seem to be able to do the simplest things I used to be able to do.  This pie is just another in a long line of missteps. 

The good news is, even if the pies completely flop, we’ll have lots of other food.  We are blessed to have turkey and gravy, dressing, mashed potatoes, vegetables, cranberry jell-o salad and more.   

We’ll be with other Christ-followers, enjoying a taste of home, rejoicing in the abundance of ways God has been meeting us here in the Dominican Republic.  Sure, we may not be tasting apple pie, but we’ll have lots of other yummy things.

So, I’m feeling a little bit embarrassed and sorry for myself right now.  But, even in this, I can rejoice.  I can rejoice that as I’ve forgotten some skills, I’m learning new ones. 

I can rejoice that I am in a place where I can praise God without fear.  I can openly share Him with the women of El Callejon.  Compared to that (and so many other blessings!) this little hit to my ego is small potatoes (or should I say small sweet potatoes?!).

Pies (not feet!) de Manzanas

Update:  Here they are!  I promise to report back tomorrow!!

80's Music & Reality

One of my blogging friends posted yesterday that she is taking a break from listening to a radio personality whose programs talk about how bad everything is in the US and how much worse it’s going to get.  She still believes this to be true, but feels that she needs to stop hearing the negativity of his messages and instead focus on what God would have her do in this.

It was interesting to read some of the comments people wrote.  Some agreed with her, others defended the radio guy, saying we need to pay attention because things are really bad.

Her post and the comments got me to thinking.  We all like to think that we’re strong enough to hear others and not be swayed.  I think that’s true to an extent, but I also think we are much more impacted by things than we’d like to admit.  What we read, watch, hear, does influence us. 

There’s a crazy radio station here in Jarabacoa which plays lots of songs (in English) from the 1980’s.  Oh, yeah, the ‘80’s!  I was in high school and college so it’s ‘my’ decade.  Needless to say, I am loving this station! 

It’s been years since I’ve listened to the Psychedelic Furs, Pet Shop Boys or Depeche Mode, but I am able to sing along to at least the chorus of their old songs.  Back then I didn’t own many records, and there was no Internet to search for lyrics, but somehow the words got absorbed into my brain.

What I listened to 25 years ago has stuck with me.  What about what I’ve read?  What I’ve seen? What am I filling my head (and heart!) with?  What is getting in without me even being aware? 

No, I don’t think we are to shut out all news, opinions, ideas, and only ever read the Bible and pray.  But, is that honestly where any of us are at?  With all due respect, the fact that you are reading this means you (and I!) cannot claim this! 

I think there is great value in having what we think challenged and stretched.  I think it is healthy to learn what others believe about important topics. 

However, I have to ask myself (and you!), Am I spending as much time filling my head and heart with the words of God as I am taking in other sources of information?  Not as some magic elixir which will make the bad things go away!  But, as a much-needed dose of REAL reality. 

Yes, it’s possible that there are hard times ahead.  But, friends, right now there are people in every corner of the world struggling to survive.  That’s been the case since Genesis Chapter 3.  Our citizenship is in Heaven.  Unless we live out of this truth, the news of financial crises and threats to our earthly security will paralyze us.   

Being a Christ-follower does not mean burying our heads in the sand.  In fact, truly following Jesus should make us the most realistic people on the planet!  Realistic about sin and brokenness, but also realistic in our joy because we have Hope that is not tied to anything this world can give. 

The reality is, the world is a mess.  But, we can take heart because the One who has overcome the world is with us.  He calls us to not sit around wringing our hands, but in trust and obedience, to reach out into the pain and suffering in His love.

So, I applaud my friend, and am going to take a look at what influences me these days.  My prayer is that by being intentional about what I allow to enter my head and heart, I will be more – not less! – able to share God’s truth, hope and reality, with the women of El Callejon and beyond.

Yay!!!

Hey, everyone!  I hope you'll jump over to the Social Work site blog to read some exciting news!!

http://meetingjesusinelcallejon.blogspot.com/

You Have Got to be Kidding Me Oswald!

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME OSWALD!!!!!!!!” 

I read this sentence last week (in all caps, including eight exclamation points!).  It was the beginning of a Facebook message from a friend of mine who has been contemplating full-time missions for a while.  The Oswald is Oswald Chambers.  My friend had started re-reading My Utmost for His Highest, a daily devotional. 

I’m not sure why I stopped reading My Utmost, but thanks to technology, I’ve started again.  I’m only a few days in, and I’m already echoing my friend most mornings.  You have got to be kidding me Oswald!

Yesterday I was talking with a couple of the SI staff about marriage.  Don’t get excited, it wasn’t about ME getting married!  Instead, we were talking about how being legally married is not a priority for the people of El Callejon.  We, of course, believe that God’s will is for them to be married, not just living together. 

But, just telling the women that it is ‘in the Bible’ and ‘God says so’ doesn’t seem to be working.  How do we get them to see how important this is – for themselves, for their children, for their ‘husbands’?

Then, this morning I read today’s My Utmost devotional entitled, “What is that to You?” based on Jesus’ words to Peter at the end of John 21.  The first sentence says, “One of the hardest lessons to learn comes from our stubborn refusal to refrain from interfering in other people’s lives.”  You’ve got to be kidding me Oswald! 

Chambers goes on to say that when we see someone suffering, our immediate thought is that we’re going to make sure they don’t suffer.  Sounds good, except perhaps we are trying to get in the way of what God has planned for the other person. 

I remember learning in Perspectives that our role as missionaries is to help people encounter Jesus, to disciple them, but to always point them to the Bible as their source of guidance. 

We see what we consider to be the biggest areas of concern.  For us, marriage is one of those.  But, is it possible that the Holy Spirit will reveal to them another, deeper area of sin, that needs to be tackled first? 

Put another way, is it possible we getting in the way of His work in the women by insisting on legal marriage as the first step toward obedience?  Are we stubbornly refusing to refrain from interfering?  You have got to be kidding me Oswald!

Part of me would like to just dismiss him.  But, it’s not that simple.  At MTI we learned that people generally do things that make sense to them. 

There is a reason the women aren’t choosing to be legally married.  What is it?  I don’t know because I haven’t taken the time to find out.  Perhaps that’s my starting point.  Prayerfully leaving behind my understanding of what is right and trying to hear theirs. 

Perhaps through those conversations, the Holy Spirit will open opportunities to help the women discern His will for them.  Do I believe that He can speak directly to them or am I arrogantly going to insist that because I have more knowledge/education/money/power He will tell ME what they need to do?  But… but…

Chambers says that our part is to maintain a right relationship with God so that His discernment can work through us for the purpose of blessing someone else.  I do want to be a blessing to the women of El Callejon.  The best way I can do so is to remain firmly attached to the True Vine.  Only in Him can I do anything of value.

Oh, Father, thank you for using others, like Oswald Chambers, to help me see more of You.  I pray for Your strength to seek Your will for my life.  I pray for Your discernment as I look for ways to connect Your truth with where those living in El Callejon are right now. 

Father, increase my trust in You.  I know You have moved in me, and You will also move in them.  May I be a part of Your work, not a stumbling block.  May Your will be done in my life and in the lives of those in El Callejon, in Your perfect way, in Your perfect timing!

(P.S.  If you are not familiar with it, check out myutmost.org. Fair warning, your toes are probably going to be stepped on!)

Settled in UnSettled

This week one of my SI friends asked me how I was doing.  As I described feeling out of sorts she said, It sounds like you’re settled in Unsettled.  Unsettled is one of the stages along the Transition Bridge which everyone leaving their ‘home’ culture, and entering another, experiences (to some degree or other).

Unsettled makes me think of my couch.  I’ve mentioned before that when I moved into my furnished apartment, the places to sit were four very straight-backed wooden kitchen chairs and four wooden rocking chairs. 

I have good posture (thank you, Mom!) and prefer sitting up straight, but even for me the chairs were too upright.  And the rocking chairs?  Quaint, but not great for curling up with a good book! 

So, I bought a couch.  I posted a picture in an earlier post, and I think you’ll agree, it looks okay, with plenty of cushions.  Sure, the pattern isn’t anything I would have gone out of my way to pick, but it was the only one I found in my price-range!  Still, it's not bad.

Sit down on it, however, and you quickly realize that the pastel tapestry is wrapped around what feels like a hard rectangle of unyielding foam.  Attempting a light bouncing up and down is futile.  The first few times I used my couch were jarring, to say the least! 

Just looking at it, nothing cautions sitting will result in a ‘thud’.  The fact is, there’s no need for a warning, because this is just how couches here are made.

Unsettled.  I re-read some of my notes about this stage.  It’s a time of loss and grief as old ties are severed, and familiar ways of doing things no longer work.  It is exhausting and frustrating to feel as if none of the ‘rules’ that worked back home work here. 

There are no signs or warnings since everyone from here knows how stuff goes.  And, the thuds that come from bumping up against all the new rules are also jarring! 

When Dona Gloria stopped up one day and felt my couch, she declared it 'comodo'  (comfortable).  The ones in her home are just as stiff, (although prettier!)  Her visiting family members sit right down and happily continue their energetic conversations, seeming not to have the slightest problem with them.

Like Dona Gloria and my couch, it is important for me to realized that people here see their way of doing things as being as nature and sensible (and comfortable!) as I do of my culture.  In fact, it’s likely Dona Gloria would consider my old overstuffed couch and loveseat too soft, and therefore, uncomfortable!

Of course, Unsettled can also be a time of excitement and healthy stretching.  As I climb out of my rut (or really, am tossed out, airborn and flailing!), the Holy Spirit invites me to see a broader, deeper, bigger understanding of God come into view.  As Jesus meets me in this season where nothing is what I expect, my trust and faith in His ability to supply ALL my needs can grow.

Last night, as I relaxed and read a fluffy mystery, I settled onto my couch… and it didn’t feel nearly as hard as when I first bought it.  I realize that the brick of foam may be wearing down in the spot where I typically sit!  But, I also think I’m getting accustomed to it.  I've even managed to take a nap on it, something I didn't think would be possible!

Bit by bit I will move out of Unsettled.  Yes, I’d love to rush through it, but that’s not how it works.  The reality is, what’s on the other side of UnSettled is not feeling better, but actually feeling worse for a while. 

Chaos.  If I ‘do’ Unsettled well, (allowing the Holy Spirit to work in me and through me), when I head into Chaos (and there’s no avoiding it!) I will be more prepared than if I did not go through this time. 

So, for now, I am praying for grace – and a sense of humor!  I am praying for eyes to see more and more of God’s bigness.  And, I am praying for the grace to be Settled in UnSettled. 

Bits and Pieces

Just a few brief and random notes from the past few days:

I mentioned that Dona Gloria’s gardener would be washing my car.  He did.  Since it sits up high (it’s a Chevy Tracker) he only washed what he could reach.  So, the bird ‘gift’ from a few weeks back remains on my back window! 

Floor cleaner (which I also use for clothes)
& Car shampoo (which I don't use!)

The preferred cleaning substance for tile floors is powdered (and only powdered) laundry detergent.  For cars, it’s a super cheap brand of shampoo.

New running hazard.  A stray dog has taken up residence along my run and chases me for at least 100 meters, barking its head off.  So far, it’s not done more than bark.  I think I might need to start carrying a couple of rocks just in case it gets more aggressive.  Bonus – I can do some arm work as I run!

When the teens’ favorite things include TV, music, volleyball, pizza, chocolate and pasta, it makes English lessons easy.  (All of them are pretty much the same in both languages, minus some pronunciation.)  The classes have been a lot of fun, and the teens seem to really enjoy them.

If you’ve never heard the story of Jonah, it’s understandable that you’d think it was crazy – and gross!  Chelsea and Taryn shared it with our groups Tuesday.  The little girls knew it, but the teens didn’t.  Their faces when Chelsea described the big fish vomiting Jonah out after three days was priceless!

Christmas trees with felt, buttons, and... glitter!!

How can you tell who comes to the Social Work site? Look closely, and you’ll find they sparkle! I’ve got glitter in my car, at home, and of course, all over me! We’ve decided we won’t get it all washed away until March of next year!!

Yuck Duck:  finding a maggot in my morning mango
Yay Duck: not finding HALF a maggot in my morning mango

Siesta (from 12:30-ish until 2) is taken seriously here.  On Monday I tried to get Site keys cut at a hardware store.  None were open.  It was 1pm.  Silly me.

The super mercado (grocery story) has an entire section of ketchup, including something called Curry Ketchup (no, I didn’t buy it!) but only two Brands of non-drinkable (slightly less runny) yogurt.  Each of these has two types – Fresa and Pina.

Motos.  Motorcycles are the preferred method of transportation, carrying everything from families to huge burlap sacks of rice to gas canisters to wash machines (I’m not making that up!).  The scary thing is, helmets are only required for drivers, and lights seem to be optional.  Driving at night is, frankly, a little stressful!

The church I’ve been attending is small and without many financial or material resources.  But, the sermons are Biblical, the worship is Spirit-filled and joyful, and, they are supporting a missionary couple ministering to Muslims in the country of Jordan.  It’s humbling to see their commitment to the Great Commission, depending on God to supply their needs out of His glorious riches.

“If our motive for serving is anything other than the glory of God, what we do will only be religious activity and not true Christian ministry.”  Warren Wiersbe in On Being a Servant of God (an excellent book given to me by a dear sister in Christ, Daphne).  Reading it last year, as I pondered coming to the DR was powerful.  Re-reading it now… Wow!  May my motive, my service, my very life, be for Your glory alone,  Father!

The Wrong Mountain

The women of El Callejon sing a song which talks about having faith like a mustard seed and moving mountains.  This morning I read those same words in Matthew 17.  After my devotions I went out for a run.  As I ran, I looked up at the mountains surrounding Jarabacoa and thought about that song and those verses.

I remember being young and being taught that if I had faith, even small faith, but truly believed, nothing would be impossible, even moving an actual mountain.  So, I decided to give it a try.  (I hope I’m not the only little kid who ever tried this!)

I concentrated really hard, believed with all my heart and… nothing.  The Rocky Mountains stayed put.  What had happened?  Was it that I just didn’t have enough faith? 

Since that first attempt, I’ve had many others (not with real mountains, but you know what I mean!).  I have had faith, I have had a mountain in view, I have prayed and pleaded that God would move it, and… nothing. 

Is it my fault?  Is it because I lack sufficient faith?  I think many of us wrestle with this question.  A mother wonders if her child is not getting better because her faith is too small.  A husband questions whether he is praying hard enough to salvage his crumbling marriage.  A teenager thinks she doesn’t believe enough get into the college she wants.

I have no doubt that each of you could give examples of your heartfelt prayers, when you believed, and yet a problem/situation/mountain stayed firmly put.  Why does this happen? 

Like you, I’ve struggled with my own mountains, I’ve struggled with wondering if I’m to blame.  And that brings me back to my run this morning.

The beauty of the lush green hills gave my soul a lift, as they always do, not just here, but in other places I’ve lived.  It suddenly occurred to me that these Dominican mountains look a lot like the ones in Antigua, Guatemala, and a lot like the Blue Ridge back home.  If I didn’t know where I was, I might think I was in another part of the world entirely. 

I started to think about the mountains in my life.  What if I’m looking at them, thinking they are what is hindering me, but in reality, they are not actually the trouble?  What if, instead, I am faithfully, fervently praying for the wrong mountain to move?

For example, I’ve been praying that God remove my car problems, ensuring I have a reliable car which always gets me where I need to go.  But, what if the actual mountain needing to be moved is my need to be in control and self-sufficient? 

I’ve been praying that God would remove the language barrier ahora mismo (right now).  But, what if the true mountain is my pride, keeping me from humbling myself, asking the women, teens and girls for their help in understanding what they are saying?

I’ve been praying that God would move me quickly and efficiently through the Transition Bridge, not allowing me to stumble at all.  BUT, what if the mountain that needs to go is my reluctance to allow myself to be stripped away of all my own strength, and then be surrounded, submerged, buoyed up, sustained by His love and power?

Perhaps by lovingly refusing to move the 'wrong' mountains I want moved, God is, in fact, helping strengthen me for my 'right' mountains.  Perhaps by not removing what I see as a problem, God is inviting me to see things from His perspective.  From the perspective which said that the mountain of suffering, pain and death would not be removed from His Son. 

Oh, Father, I have to confess that right now I don’t like these mountains looming up in front of me.  If I’m honest, everything in me wants You to move them out of my way, whether they are the wrong mountains or not. 

Teach me to look beyond the obvious peaks to the true mountains which keep me from living for You.  Teach me to see Your glory in the midst of the struggles, in the midst of the mountains.    

Housekeeping

I got home a little while ago to a freshly cleaned home.  Every other week, I pay Maria (Dona Gloria’s domestica) $500 pesos (approx US$13) to clean my apartment. 

For me, this is not an easy thing.  As I’ve shared, I live in a studio apartment.  Am I really saying that I cannot keep one room and one bathroom where only one person lives, clean?  In my mind, having someone else clean my home says I am too incompetent, lazy, above myself, to take care of myself.    

I remember when my mom was in the hospital following her first mastectomy.  Mom called me (from her hospital bed!) and told me some women from the church were coming over to clean our house.  She was calling to tell me, as the oldest at age 10, to clean things up before they got there.  She was emphatic - I don’t want them thinking my house is a mess!   

(I have to admit, before Maria comes, I empty my own trash, wipe down the counters, tidy things up… Hey, what can I say?  I am my mom’s daughter!)

So, my pride fought against having Maria clean.  My thriftiness, too.  After all, I am a ‘faith missionary’ which means all my support is provided by others.  How can I consider spending $26.00 each month on something I am perfectly capable of doing myself?  What will my supporters think?

Maria has two children.  Her son, Juan Pablo (12), has issues with his kidneys.  I’m not sure what his diagnosis is, but he is on a salt-free diet and becomes quite weak at times.  He has to go to Santiago (45 minutes away) for frequent visits to a specialist.  That means finding money for gas, for the doctor, and for the prescriptions.  I’m not sure if Maria’s husband has full-time employment or not. 

You may think I should just give her some money for her situation.  But, simply handing her money would rob her of dignity and healthy pride in a job well done.  By paying her to clean my apartment, I am allowing Maria to use her skills and talents to provide for her son and daughter.

It may seem odd, but I believe having Maria clean is in keeping with my life as a Christ-follower.  His life taught us that there is a time to serve, but there is also a time to allow others to serve us.

Jesus could have helped Himself to well water.  Or, created water to quench His thirst!  Instead, He invited the Samaritan woman to serve Him, and in doing so, she received the gift of Living Water. 

Did His disciples understand what He was doing hanging out in the midday sun with a woman of questionable character?  Nope.  But, Jesus knew what she needed, and if others were scandalized, that was beside the point. 

And so, I will continue to have Maria clean my apartment.  What’s more, even though I don’t need to have my car washed, starting this week, I will pay Dona Gloria’s gardener to wash it every Saturday.

He is deaf and more than 70 years old in a country without a lot of aid for the elderly.  He has very little opportunity to earn money.  Dona Gloria pays him to water her flowers and do light yard work.  She also feeds him breakfast and lunch. 

I’m sure she could find someone better suited for the work, but she wants to help him in a way that maintains his dignity, too.  Do I need him to clean my car?  Any of you who ever saw the very (very!) dirty Corolla know I really could care less about a clean vehicle.  But does he need to have the opportunity to be paid to clean it?  Yeah, I think maybe he does.

Day One

On November, 1, 2010, I said Yes to the invitation to work with Students International in El Callejon, Dominican Republic.  Today, on the one-year anniversary of that “Yes”, I spent my first full day alone at the Social Work site. 

Well, I wasn’t totally alone, as Chelsea and Taryn, our two wonderful Semester Students, were with me.  But, I was in charge.  I wore the set of keys, I opened up the Site, I made sure we had everything in order…

Before we started our activities, we spent time together praying for our day, for the Site, and for those who would come.  We don’t always get to pray (people immediately start showing up when they see Daisy arrive) but for me it was essential that we started our day in this manner!  I knew I wasn’t going to be able to do anything without it!

Last week's craft - Cottonball Ovejas

After praying and discussing the day’s schedule, the Little Girls came in.  Actually, they started showing up at around 9:15, but we asked them to play outside.  I love the fact that they want to be at our Site!  The Little Girls are ages six thru nine.  Last week we talked about the Parable of the Lost Sheep and did an adorable craft one of our groups had brought down for us. 

This week we read another parable, the Parable of the Good Samaritan.  We asked the girls what they learned.  One of them proudly stated, “Hubo un Americano” (There was an American). 

At first I wasn’t sure what she meant, but then I realized she had misunderstood “Samaritano”.  I had to explain that Samaritans were from Samaria, not the U.S.!  Kids, in all countries, really do say some adorable things!

Genesis (l) and Yennifer (r) work at their hearts

Since the Good Samaritan had helped the man, he had shown a heart like the heart of Jesus.  So, we had the girls do some simple embroidery on heart-shaped plastic grids.  Some of them did a great job, others got frustrated.  Instead of them all shouting, “Daisy!”, I heard, “Kimberley, ayudame Kimberley!” (Help me)  It felt kind of good, to have them hollering for me! 

My camera got passed around - not sure who took this one!
Tule (lives next door), Luissania (l), Lorianny y yo

Chelsea and Taryn leave each day to have lunch with the families they are living with, so I was alone for a couple of hours.  Some of the ladies and little girls stopped by.  I didn’t understand everything they said, but it was fun to try!  I was glad that even though Daisy wasn’t there, some of them still stayed a while to talk with me. 

In the afternoon we had one of our Teen groups.  We’re still working our way through the Fruits of the Spirit.  I ‘doubled up’ today with Kindness and Goodness, and used the story of the Good Samaritan here, too. 

Since this group is older, I tried to spend more time explaining to them about the three men – the priest, the Levite and the Samaritan.  Are there people here that others don’t like?  I asked.  Yes, one of the replied, the Haitians. 

I told them this would be like if a pastor and church worker walked past but the one who stopped to help was Haitian.  A couple of the teens were nodding, so I’m hoping they connected more to the really radical words of Jesus.

We finished our time with an English lesson, taught by Chelsea and Taryn.  Today was introducing ourselves.  They used a variation on that game of slapping your legs, clapping your hands, and snapping your fingers to help the girls practice saying, My name is ______, I am 15 years old, I have two brothers, etc. 

The Teens did a good job, although pronouncing words like “Have” was a challenge.  In Spanish, the letter H is silent, and a V kind of sounds like a B.  One of them wrote out Have as Jaf to help her remember how to say it.  Clever!

The day flew by, and we all felt it had been a success.  I know that was only because the Holy Spirit was with us.  I feel pretty tired out, but also elated. 

When I first walked back into El Callejon at the end of September, it seemed impossible that I’d ever begin to feel a connection.  Now, it not only seems possible, but I know that God is in this ministry, and He will make the connections in His way and in His time. 

One year ago, this all seemed like a dream.  Today, one year later, so much has changed, but the same One I said Yes to then, is with me now, and will continue to work out His will.  All glory to Him!