Out of Focus

Recently, I had an infection in my eyes.  Everything was a little hazy and out of focus there for a few days.

Sometimes things are right in front of us, but we do not see them.  I am sure that every mother has heard this question and probably multiple times a day: “Mom, have you seen my . . .?”  I saw a quote the other day that said that if Mom cannot find something, then it is really lost.  Many times, if the children just focused a little, they would find those missing items all on their own; it is much easier to hit the panic button and call for Mom!

Many times, things become out of focus in our daily lives.  We get overwhelmed by problems or circumstances.  Instead of lifting our eyes to the hills where the source of our help is as is mentioned in Psalm 121, we try to fix the problems ourselves.  Things quickly become “out of focus.”  Many times we go to God with our problems as a last resort.  If He was our first resort, just think how much more quickly those problems would be solved.  If we start each day focused on God and we keep our focus there, we will not have to worry about the trials that we are facing.  We will still face trials, but we will not be overwhelmed so easily if we keep our focus on God throughout the trial.

Until next week, keep your sunny side up!

Short and Sweet for Thanksgiving

On this Thanksgiving Day, I have a simple question for us all...

Is it a Mary or a Martha kind of day?

“I have so much to do that I shall spend the first three hours in prayer.”   
Martin Luther

Wishing you all a VERY Mary Thanksgiving!

*********

P.S. Check out the giveaway at Women Behind the Scenes.

It ends tomorrow, so don't put it off too long.

Thankfulness

(Photo Source - Google Images)

As we approach the Thanksgiving season, it has taken on a new meaning for me this year. Being on the field has been an awesome experience for me!

A couple of verses that our youth pastor uses quite frequently are very special to me also. I Thessalonians 5:16-18: "Rejoice evermore. Pray without ceasing. In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

What do these verses mean to me? In everything, including the struggles and trials and homesickness and anything else that might happen in my life, I am to rejoice and give thanks. :-) This is not always easy! However, if I am in the state of prayer at all times, the Lord is going to give me the grace to be thankful no matter what happens. As I look back over some of the difficult and hard things that have happened in the last few weeks and months, I cannot be discouraged. I am even more thankful that the Lord has protected me in some very tough situations.

What does the word "thankful" mean? According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, the first and third definitions of "thankful" are as follows: 1) conscious of benefit received and 3) well pleased.

Therefore, we need to be conscious that God has given us so many benefits. As single missionaries, we are given even more benefits than married ladies. We have the opportunity to reach out in our ministries in so many different ways. Are you thankful for what God has given you in your ministry? Are you thankful for the obstacles God has placed in your life? Should we be thankful only for the month of November while approaching the Thanksgiving season? Of course not!!! What does verse 18 of our text say? "In EVERY THING give thanks." This means to be thankful 365 days of the year, 12 months of the year, 52 weeks of the year, 24 hours a day, 60 minutes an hour, 60 seconds a minutes, and so on!!!!

What are you thankful for?

Written by Keren Burdick
She is a single missionary, serving the Lord in Honduras.

You can find here website here.

Happy Thanksgiving!

I'm sure everyone is busy getting ready for Thanksgiving!
First, I just thought I'd gather up the recipes you might need this week in one place!

No Stove-Top Stuffing where you live? Never fear! Make your own!

No Thanksgiving is complete without pumpkin desserts!
For those who like tradition ~ pumpkin pie!
And for those who want to branch out? the best pumpkin cake ever!

No feast is finished without something special to drink ~ try my Nina's Cranberry Punch Recipe!

Second, something delicious to do with the leftovers!
{Because more than half the fun is eating up everything left :)!}

Turkey Stock

enough water to cover carcass {8-10 cups}
turkey carcass, broken
any leftover pan juices or gravy
1 onion, quartered
2 lg. cloves of garlic, peeled and slightly smashed
1 carrot, cut into large pieces
4-5 stalks celery, cut into large pieces
1 tsp. dried marjoram
1 tsp. dried thyme
1/2 tsp. dried sage
a few sprigs fresh parsley
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
freshly ground pepper

In a large pot bring water to a boil.
Add all ingredients.
Reduce heat to a low simmer.
Cover and simmer for at least two hours.
Remove from heat.
When cool enough to handle, pick out any meat that has fallen off the bones to add later to the soup.
Strain, pour into container and refrigerate.
Once cooled, freeze or keep in refrigerator until ready to make soup.
{The fat will rise to the top and make a seal. Remove it when ready to make soup.}

 
 Turkey Soup

1 lg. onion, finely chopped
1 tsp. olive oil
8 c. turkey or chicken stock
1 1/2 c. carrots, sliced into thin circles
1 1/2 c. celery diced
3 turnips or small rutabagas, halved and sliced thin {if available}
3 med. potatoes, quartered and sliced thin
1 c. white beans, cooked or canned
2-3 c. leftover turkey, cut into bite-sized pieces
1-2 c. leftover cooked green beans
cauliflower {optional}
fresh parsley, finely chopped
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated

Using a large pot, saute onion in oil until limp.
Pour in stock and add carrots, celery, turnips or rutabagas, potatoes, cooked white beans {but wait on canned white beans}, turkey, and cauliflower {if using}.
Cover and simmer about 30 minutes.
When vegetables are tender, add canned white beans {if using}, and cooked green beans.
Warm through.
Top with grated cheese and chopped parsley.

Turkey Hash

6 medium potatoes, cut into cubes {about 3 cups}
1/2 c. turkey or chicken broth
1 med. onion, chopped
2 stalks celery, finely chopped {about 1 cup}
1 lg. clove garlic, minced
1 sweet red pepper, chopped
2 c. cooked turkey, chopped into small pieces
1/8 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. sage
1/2 tsp. thyme
1/2 tsp. cayenne pepper
salt
freshly ground pepper
paprika
parsley, minced {optional}

Put potatoes and broth in a large skillet.
Cover and simmer for 15 minutes until broth has evaporated and potatoes are tender and lightly browned on one side.
Add onion, celery, and garlic and saute for a few minutes over medium heat, stirring occasionally.
Add the rest of the ingredients, with the exception of the paprika and parsley.
Let cook for a few minutes on one side, then flip over in sections.
Don't overstir.
Add a little oil if pan is too dry.
When celery is tender and has is browned, serve sprinkled with parsley and paprika.

Have a wonderful time of giving thanks with family and friends, wherever you may be!

Without Grumbling and Complaining

Missionaries can find a lot to complain about. Going to a place that usually has less than before--less privacy, less amenities, less flexibility, less availability, less efficiency, less of everything!--makes it so hard not to be unhappy and discontent when the inevitable comparisons happen. "Ugh! In America...this wouldn't have happened!" or "I miss..." or "Why does it have to be that way!"

Sometimes we even give ourselves the right to our grumblings--after all, we can only take so much sacrifice, right? Are we also supposed to be happy and thankful about things that we see as the obvious fruits of sin all around us? We may even be tempted to loudly complain, so that the nationals will "see things the way they ought to." You know, help out their worldview issues.

I remember feeling this way on one harrowing occasion of trying to renew our visitors' visas. It was one of the most stressful events in our ministry to that point, and I actually wondered if I would go nuts from worry. It was incredibly hard not to visibly lose my temper, even with a national in the room to check my emotions, when my husband came home with more bad news about the situation that year.

"Do all things without murmurings and disputings," says Philippians 2:14.

And the opposite course of action is given in 1 Thessalonians 5:18: "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

How many times had I heard or memorized those verses in my youth? But they seemed impossible on the mission field.

But a few years ago as I attempted to memorize the book of Philippians, I realized that the thought doesn't end there. In fact, Philippians 2:14 is directly related to missions! Here's the whole passage:

"Do all things without murmurings and disputings: That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world; Holding forth the word of life..."

When I made the connection between verse 14 and the following verses, the sword of the Word cut through all of my self-justifications for why complaining was allowable in my situation. Missionaries should not be given a pass on complaining. If anything, we should be more careful to guard our tongues and spirits from complaining, because complaining directly affects our testimony.

When we complain, we hurt our testimony. Complaining makes us so that we cannot truly be called "blameless and pure." But if others see us in times of trial thanking and praising our God, with a spirit of peace and trust, then they can marvel--what is it that makes them able to respond that way? If you can keep yourself from complaining, you are helping the Gospel.

In fact, the inspired Word even admits that we are in the middle of a crooked and perverted nation. Those national sins and foreign factors that can be so angering and my-rights-destroying do not give me an excuse to complain--just to vent and get it all out! No. Instead, they remind me that I am a STAR (as another version translates) shining in their darkness, holding out life to them!


Wow! I do not feel like a star; do you? Too often the stress pot of life on the mission field causes my remnant sins and unaddressed temptations to boil over, and all of the blackness and poison still in my heart spills out of my mouth and on everyone else. But it is true--like Galadriel's phial in Shelob's lair, we are supposed to be a rebuke--our brightness, a pain--to the darkness.

Let those sins and the frustrations that come along with the darkness all around you in whatever crooked and perverse nation you live in remind you--not that you deserve better, or once had better--but that the darker the darkness, the brighter you shine (a star!), when you live blamelessly in that darkness.

Zip, Boom, Bang!

Last week, I mentioned a story about a zip-line which would have to be told another time.  Someone asked about the zip-line story.  So, I will share it with you today.

One summer while I was attending Oklahoma Baptist College, I traveled in a singing group.  It was an ensemble made up of six young ladies.  We traveled with various staff members and their families throughout the summer.  At some point during that summer, we were up in Minnesota.  We were travelling with a couple who had four children.  We were in a fifteen passenger van with a luggage trailer behind us; there was plenty of room for everyone.

We arrived at a church early in the afternoon.  We did some exploring and found a zip-line out behind the church.  It was about fifteen feet high with sand underneath it.  Some of the girls were afraid to try it out.  So, I was going to show them how to do it.  I climbed up to the top, sat down on the edge, and prepared for take-off.  A couple seconds after I pushed off, the handle apparatus bounced up off of the track, and I fell straight down.  I was a little shaken, but I did not want to give up.  So, I tried it again and had the same results.  I zipped for a couple feet and then found myself straight down on the ground again.  You know the saying, “If you fall off a horse, get back on and try it again.”  The other girls were watching with wide eyes.  I had done nothing to help them not be afraid; that is for sure!  I decided to try it one more time only to fall straight down again.  By that time, everything was starting to tingle.  My hands were sore from having the handles jerked out of them.  My whole body hurt.  I said, “Three strikes, and I’m out!” One of the other girls tried it, and she was successful.  Another girl worked up the courage to try it, and she had the same results as I did – falling flat on her back.  At that point, we went to find the staff member who was travelling with us.  He said that he had never heard of anyone falling from a zip line.  He had his oldest son get up there and try it, and he rode it all the way to the end.  I do not know what we did wrong, but to this day, I have never touched another zip-line!

While we were singing at that church that night, my arms were going into muscle spasms.  That night, the other girl who fell and I ended up staying at the same house.  We were both quite stiff.

The next day, we visited the Mall of America.  I was not among those with their arms raised up in the air on the roller coaster that day; I could barely lift my hand to my mouth let alone above my head!

Until next week, keep your sunny side up!

Holidays: Trading the Tree for Yarn

When we found out we were going to move to our new country, we knew we would have some decisions to make, even decisions on how we celebrate holidays. We were moving to a country where the people worship trees and idols.  We were concerned with how they would perceive a tree in the home... or a nativity scene on the mantle.

Christmas is still such a new holiday in this country. This is the fourth year it has been an official holiday.  Most people really are not sure how to even celebrate this new holiday.  It is a prime opportunity to introduce them to the real meaning of Christmas.

We sought counsel from other missionaries serving here. Some do not use a Christmas tree or any decorations that might be confusing. Some have a Christmas tree each year, but keep it in a private room. Others just celebrate the holiday the same way they did in the States.

After listening to the counsel and seeking God's direction for our family, we chose not to have a Christmas tree or any decorations that could potentially be confusing to someone entering our home.  As a family, we decided that the traditional Christmas tree was not as important to us as using the opportunity to show the real meaning of Christmas. We didn't want any room for confusion or distraction.

(This post is definitely not an attempt to criticize others who have chosen differently on the field. It is simply the direction the Lord led our family. This is all coming from a family who every year went up on the mountain to cut down a Christmas tree, ride a tractor down the mountain with our new tree, and drink hot chocolate while we decorated the tree in our home! My hope is that this post will encourage and inspire those who may have to or simply choose to celebrate Christmas a little differently for whatever reason.)

Since having a tree each year had been such a special, very treasured event, I knew we had to come up with an activity that got us AWAY from the tree. So in the States, we gave it a trial run. No tree with presents underneath, no nativity scenes, no Christmas lights on the house... but instead...

We followed a star.  Um, and a bunch of yarn!

Taste of Fall: Something for Everybody

Hope you've been having a lovely November!
Thanksgiving is rushing right up on us, and December seems to be nipping at its heels!
If you are not tired to death of pumpkin and apples, I've got a few last links that I thought you might enjoy......hopefully a bit of something for everybody!

Pumpkin Pie Crumb Bars from Cooking Classy
Banana Pumpkin Breakfast Shake from Dine & Dish
Oatmeal Pumpkin Creme Pies from Sally's Baking Addiction
Apple Cider Cupcakes with Cider Frosting from Allyson Kramer
Starbucks Pumpkin Pound Cake from Something Swanky
Sourdough Pumpkin Quick Bread from Cultures for Health

The Many Jobs of a Missionary ~ Undertaker

Sometimes missionaries find themselves in surreal positions, thinking to themselves, "I never thought I'd be doing this!"

An extreme example of this facet of our job occurred this morning at 6:30 when my close friend in the village (Martha*) knocked on our door. She was stunned by the "khombo" (danger) that had befallen them in the night. The 7-month old son of her best friend and relative who lives on her property passed away in the dark of night.

She had just held him two hours before and rejoiced that she had finally gotten him to take a little milk after what seemed like two days of stomach flu. She had spent what little money she had on a tin of milk powder, hoping to try something the child would drink. Finally, he took some. He played on her lap, and Martha and the child's mom were relieved. Two hours later Martha awoke to try to feed the child again, but "his eyes were open and would not close." How shockingly sad.

They wanted to bury the child today, she said. Did we have a box they could use? And would Seth (my husband) "do the prayers" for them?

Of course we would help. We had church at 9:00; but she already knew that, and we hoped to finish the funeral before church began.

Seth left the sitting room, and I heard him begin to break a pallet down in our garage. I looked back at Martha in time to notice her hand over her eyes as the tears began to flow. She recounted her shock again--how could this happen? He was just happy two hours before! My own tears came as I looked straight ahead at the jars of marbles sitting on our bookshelf, filled with one marble for each month of our children's lives for 18 years. That mother had only 7 months to spend with her baby.

I fed my children and dressed them for church in record time, tasks my husband usually helps with. It felt so surreal when he came in to measure our toddler, trying to guess at the dimensions of the casket he was building. We shared a shocked glance at the thought of measuring our own child for a casket. Yet practicality reigned on the surface while emotions simmered beneath. We discussed how long a 7-month old might be and raced back to our respective work.

I dressed the children in their best clothes, thinking this might be the first funeral they would attend. At first, we hoped Seth could run the funeral and come back to get us; but as the casket took shape, we both realized we would have to go all together and straight to church thereafter.

The casket was beautiful. The wood itself was rough shelving board, but I was surprised to see a hexagonal shape with a perfectly fitting lid. I had expected a quickly fashioned rectangle.

While Seth dressed for church, I grabbed my kitchen shears and ran out into the garden. I snipped Gerber daisies, hibiscus flowers, hydrangeas, and any other flowers and greens I found that were blooming and made a quickly thrown-together arrangement in one of my melamine glasses.

Seth had asked me to scribe a message on the lid. Surreality washed over me again, as I asked the dead baby's four relatives (children), who were all standing at the edge of our garage watching, what his name was and made sure of the spelling.

When we arrived at the house, it was Martha, Seth, and I who arranged the baby in the casket. I have never felt a dead person before. Again, I wondered to myself at how my left hand could ease the dead child's head into place as my right hand held my toddler on my hip.

We held a short service with about 15 people as some men finished digging. My sons and the other children were out of my sight elsewhere in the yard during that time. The people wanted to perform some traditions and invited us to head to church. Seth felt obligated to remind them that we would have nothing to do with ancestor worship. Then while the ladies sang, the men worked in turns to shovel the dirt back into the grave.

Before we left for church, I went into the house with Martha to speak to the mother for a bit. She cried, and I sympathized. My heart broke a little for her.

Then we took our kids, as well as their other children, to church. We arrived 15 minutes late and conducted affairs as usual. It felt...strange--almost like it hadn't happened. But when we got home and cleaned up the mess left from our hurry, reality began to hit. Seth had been both carpenter and preacher, all in one morning.


*Names were changed for this story.

Lessons from a Ladder

Recently, my husband traveled to another town and was gone for a couple days.  It seems like we always have some type of excitement when Daddy is gone.  The first day that he was gone, the power was off several times throughout the day.  I waited for about thirty minutes each time before I went outside to fire up the generator.  Sometimes, it is only off for a few minutes; other times, it is off for hours.  

One afternoon while he was gone, the boys had been playing outside.  They needed to borrow some of Dad’s tools for the project that they were doing.  When it was time to come inside, they put the tools away and locked the door. When Danny was bringing the keys inside, he was throwing them up in the air as he went. He must have thrown them quite high because he sheepishly came in and told me that he threw the keys up and that they had landed on the roof of the carport. The eave of the carport is about ten feet high.  Danny said, “How will we ever get them down, Mom? I’m going to be in big trouble with Dad!”  I was right in the middle of fixing supper.  I told him to wait a few minutes, and I would come out to see what we could do.

Climbing ladders is not my favorite thing, but I got some practice in that day. We have an eight-foot folding ladder.  I had Danny help me get the ladder.  (I am afraid of heights, which might have something to do with falling from a zip line three times in the same day once upon a time, but that is another story!) On the first try, I got to the top of the ladder, and it was too close to the edge of the carport to see anything. So, I got down, moved the ladder, and tried it again. I still could not see the keys. So, I moved the ladder out into the yard, climbed the ladder, and spotted the keys. They had landed just behind the only tree that is next to the carport.  It is some type of evergreen tree with heavy branches. On the next attempt, I climbed the ladder as I dodged tree branches only to discover that I was not in the right spot. So, I got down, moved the ladder, and tried it again. I finally got the keys!

Later, I got to thinking about climbing that ladder.  It is a picture of living by faith.  It is easy to sing about living by faith, but actually doing it is another story.  The Bible says in Galatians 2:20: I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me.

To get to the top of the ladder, one must go forward.  My son was down on the ground watching me.  He had no idea that it scared me to climb that ladder.  I could have just waited for someone else to get the keys down the next day, but it was an urgent matter to him.  I had to go forward.  Moses would not have parted the Red Sea if he had not obeyed God’s instructions.  (Exodus 14)  He wanted God to tell the people to go forward, but God told Moses to just do what He had told him to do.  

What “ladder” are you facing today?  

Until next week, keep your sunny side up!

Welcome to the Golfutar Grand View Resort

Remember that post way back when... Setting Up a Guest Room?

Well, our family came! The guest room was ready for them.

We cleaned the room from top to bottom and decluttered EVERYTHING! We put our best linens on the bed. We followed the Setting Up a Guest Room list and were able to complete most of the items.

We had a desk with a guest book and a basket of goodies. Some things in the basket were practical things like face masks for riding around on the dusty roads, face wipes, and toiletries. Other things were just fun things like chocolate and chips.

We had fresh flowers in the room for them when they arrived.

A nice touch? Nicely folded bathroom towels. I found the instructions on Pinterest . Mine were not as fancy as theirs. Our quality of linens is not as good here.

A few extras that were not on the list... we made a welcome banner and a brochure. The brochure made our home sound like a vacation resort until you read it. We named our home The Golfutar Grand View Resort. It was funny! We listed off amenities just like a hotel would, only ours were slightly more creative. For example, the swimming pool open during the summer months was really just the huge puddle in our side yard created by monsoon rains! Our exercise facility? STAIRS! Our security guards? Our dogs! Our beautician giving out free facials was our dog who loves to lick faces! The family really got a good laugh out of it.

We put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door so they would have maximum privacy. When the sign was up, no one was even allowed to knock on the door.

We put a gift bag with coffee mugs in it on their bed. The mugs had the country flag on them. We had a phone ready for them to use while they were here if they needed it.

At the end of their stay, we asked them to give us any ideas on how to improve our guest room. They were able to give us a couple of ideas how we could tweak things a little, but overall they said it was wonderful. They could tell we had put a lot of effort into it. From the thank you card on the pillow to the scented candles to the space made for them in the wardrobe... every detail spoke of how happy we were to have them with us. It was worth every effort. THEY were worth every effort.

So, how is your guest room coming along? Have you made any improvements since the first post?

Malaria and Worry

Here is an experience we had last year. I felt it was a good picture of the emotions missionaries sometimes have.

_____________________________________

Last Saturday night we took Callie (my daughter of 18 months at the time) to the hospital to get tested for malaria. Her test was negative, thank God! Following are the factors that caused us to worry for her sake:

We had just spent a short holiday in a low-risk malaria region, but had to leave early in order to preach for the funeral of a neighbor of ours. She actually died of malaria, and her baby was in the hospital the week of her funeral to recuperate from malaria as well.

Some missionary friends of ours announced that they are leaving their field of service (in Africa) because of malaria and its effects on their toddler.

Then last Saturday Callie got a fever that soared and wouldn’t come down, along with some stomach trouble.

I would normally treat her with Tylenol and wait a couple of days to see if she healed on her own, but the conjunction of these events worried me. We’ve been told before that malaria is not a problem in South Africa, except for select few areas, which we’ve been told do not include our village. But we had been out of our village on holiday near the border of Zimbabwe.

I researched a bit on the internet about malaria and its symptoms, as well as malaria regions in South Africa, and decided to call the doctor. She told me that we actually can get malaria in our villages; and if I was concerned, the only way to know for sure was to do a blood test. This would be considered an emergency, and she would run the test as soon as we could get to the hospital.

We decided to have the test done, though it was almost her bedtime, and my husband needed to brush up his sermon for the next day. Would I normally make that decision if all of these events hadn’t lined up just so? Probably not. But I was worried.

I wonder if my worry was sinful. “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding.”

“Be anxious for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God.”

On the other hand, I talk to myself, believing that I took the course of common sense. It’s not “worry” to take precautions with your child’s health—especially if you believe it could affect your future in missions! I’ve been told I’m a pessimist (translate—“worrier”); I respond that I’m a realist. ;) My husband is an optimist.

Does believing that God works out all things for good to those who love Him mean that we don’t work with all of our might to prevent those bad things from happening (that will eventually be worked out for our good)? Does trusting in the Lord with all of our heart mean, as the prosperity preachers prevalent in our area say, that if we have enough faith, bad things won’t happen, or they will be taken care of/healed, etc.? Obviously not.

But I wonder if I could see the truth in my own heart, how much of my heart was filled with what percentage of these two courses. I doubt I would have changed my decision. I’m glad I know for sure that she is not endangered right now by malaria. But did I sin in my heart—in my emotions? How much of my heart was filled with fear for my baby, fears and doubts about the unknown, and lack of trust in our loving Father’s sovereign hand truly working all things together for our good?

Jonathan Edwards said, “Resolved to examine carefully and constantly what that one thing in me is which causes me in the least to doubt of the love of God, and so direct all my forces against it.” I can act for my baby’s good health, but I must do so with unshakeable assurance that God’s ways are best.

Sooo tired.

On vacation in a baobab tree.

“To Market, To Market…”

Going to the market circle in our town is quite an experience.  It is truly an adventure when the whole family goes!  Our children did not have school today.  We needed to get some material to have some outfits made.  So, we loaded up and headed to town.

The market in Takoradi, Ghana, is set up in a unique fashion.  There is a circle that is one mile in circumference.  All the way around the outside of the circle, there are little stores.  There is also a roadway that is off to the side of the road right in front of the little stores.  It is full of people sitting on stools or buckets selling their wares that include fruits, vegetables, dried fish, cooking utensils, cleaning supplies, cooking supplies, shoes, clothes, and just about anything you can imagine.  The people sitting on buckets or stools have not paid for a booth in the market; they are just “squatters.”  From time to time, the market police come through, and the “squatters” put their wares on their head and take off running. 

Inside the circle, there are many different rows of little shanty type stalls.  Walking through there is kind of like going through a maze.  You might pass the pigs’ feet on your way to get fabric.  Or, you might have to step aside for a whole cow that is being carried through. 

As we were driving around the circle today looking for a parking space, Bonnie said, “I’m going to pray that we make it out of here!”  She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and prayed right then that God would help us to get out of that circle.  I forgot to mention that there is also an open sewer ditch that runs along the outside of that roadway where the vendors sit on their stools and buckets.  The ditch is covered with cement, but there are big openings every few yards.  The smell is worse on some days than others.  It was a nice, sunny day today; so, the smells were quite strong. That was with the windows up and the AC on!

My husband and I were just praying for a parking space.  We passed several cars that were double parked.  The Lord had saved us a parking space right at the end of the parking area. 

We got out of the car and put the buddy system into play immediately.  My husband had a boy on each side, and Bonnie was my “partner.”  As we ventured inside the market circle, we had to form a single-file line to squeeze through.  We made it to the row where we needed to turn to head to see a lady who sells fabric.  After we got the fabric, she took us to the tailor.  He got the boys’ measurements.  Then, we went to see the seamstress.  All the while, people were talking to us in Fante.  When Bonnie greeted them in Fante and told them that her Fante name was “Yaa Baby,” they went wild.  Everyone wanted to talk to Yaa Baby after that.

Just as we got back to the outside of the circle, here came the market police.  Women were running in all directions to avoid the police. 

When we got back to the car, the parking attendant was there waiting to be paid.  She tried to make us pay double the price because we had been there “so long.”  When we told her that we had been there for less than thirty minutes, she took the fifty pesewas ($.25) like she was supposed to.  The cost is fifty pesewas per hour.

And thus we survived another trip to the market circle!

Until next week, keep your sunny side up!

How Do You Clean Your Food?

Recently I asked the question of what some of my missionary women friends would teach a visiting missionary on their survey trip. A few mentioned food safety (sterilizing and safely preparing food). I thought it would be interesting to see the different precautions and preparations we all do to keep our family safe and healthy. So here was the question:

What do you do to prepare/clean meats, veggies, and fruits? Be detailed in your methods. Please also let us know where your are serving... I would love to see how much of a difference that makes.

And here are the responses I received:

Taste of Fall: Pumpkin Fritters with Caramel Sauce + Bonus Links

I don't know about you, but my October flashed by. Maybe that was because the tiny one kept me busy and sleepless {oh, but they are worth it!}!
Today I have a quick round-up of Fall treats for you all!
Now I must warn you, even though I usually never put up untried recipes, I'm putting one up today. I'm sharing it here, because it looks so amazing ~ and ~ I plan on making it this week!
If it doesn't turn out, I'll let you know!

Pumpkin Fritters with Caramel Sauce

For the fritters
1 cup pumpkin, cooked and pureed
1 cup flour
2 tsp baking powder
2 Tbsp caster sugar {if unavailable, grind regular white sugar a little finer, but don't make powdered sugar!}
1 egg
¼ c milk
pinch of salt
oil of choice for deep frying

Caramel Sauce
¾ c sugar
1 c cream
1 tsp vanilla extract
3 Tbsp butter
½ c golden syrup {can also substitute Karo syrup or honey}
1 tsp sea salt flakes {omit if you do not like salted caramel}

To make the fritters, combine all the ingredients and mix until you have a smooth batter.
Heat the oil in a medium saucepan and fry spoonfuls of the batter until golden brown and cooked through, approximately 2-3 minutes.
Remove from oil and allow to drain.
Continue until all fritters are cooked.
To make the caramel sauce, combine all the ingredients in a medium saucepan and allow to cook over a medium heat for 10-15 minutes until the sauce is thick and glossy.
Pour the syrup over the fritters and serve.
Makes about 20 fritters.

Enjoy! {special thanks to Alida at Simply Delicious for both the recipe and the pic!}

Bonus Links!!!
Pumpkin Walnut Bread via localkitchen blog.
Tired of pumpkin yet? Try Joy's Salty Pretzel Vanilla Caramel Corn!
Don't eat refined sugar? Whip up a batch of Honey and Cream Taffy from Heather ~ yum!

A Story of Shipments

It was funny—while we were in the States on furlough this last summer, there were two occasions in which we happened to be with two other missionary families. It wasn’t planned, just happened. And on both occasions while I was passing the other two ladies in conversation, I heard them discussing shipments!

“Are you using a container?”

“How are you shipping your things?”

Apparently this is one of the first things on missionary women’s minds.

This is what you would find me doing for a few weeks in America!

We have made four shipments now. Seth shipped his things as a single man, and then we shipped my things when we got married. We made another shipment after our first furlough with a toddler, and now again after our second furlough. Each time, there have been different needs—Seth’s, mine, babies' items and things I didn’t know to bring when married since I’d never been here for a visit, and this final shipment was a lot of clothing and materials for homeschooling. So each shipment would look different for us.

If we had come over with our family right from the beginning, we might have shipped a “container.” But every time we have shipped, we have done it in a smaller way, using a crate. I recently heard of a possible way to take it all on the plane with you; but up until now, because of airline restrictions, we have shipped a crate.

The first time Seth shipped (#1), there was confusion, adventure, and eventually clarification. He didn’t know that you need a company not just to ship your items, but also to receive them and get them through customs. The next time we shipped after we got married (#2), the shipment was several weeks late, and some of our things were damaged or stolen. They blamed it on Hurricane Katrina. It was nerve-wracking. The last time (#3), I can’t remember any big problems. And this final time (#4), we were so relieved to get our shipment only a couple of weeks late, with everything in tact.

Storage tubs in my parents' garage waiting to be shipped.

The summer before our furlough, I discovered homeschooling forums on the web, and all of their accompanying “for sale” sites. The “used” prices allowed me to buy so many more great books and curriculum for my kids than if I had purchased new or off of Amazon. My parents were kind enough to receive boxes after packages after envelopes of homeschool curriculum and books for the kids. They stored them in their home for almost a year until we shipped them over here! I also frequented thrift stores and garage sales in almost any town where we stayed for more than a day all over America, and I had the chance to go to two big library sales while on furlough. It was so fun to take advantage of America's sales! People were so kind to take me shopping, and some even donated books to our stash.

We don’t have a TV, and we really want our children to love reading and learning. Probably most missionaries wouldn’t ship as many books as we did this past shipment, but that was an area that we had decided was important to us.

Seth and I also love books! So probably more than half of our shipment was books. The rest of the shipment was clothing and shoes for the kids, church materials, some kitchen equipment (I got a Kitchen Aid! :)), and home décor.

It was a very weighty shipment! Thankfully, when you ship a crate, it is the size that matters for the bill, not the weight. So we sent most of the weighty books in the crate, and clothing on the plane. But that also presented a problem for Seth when he needed to pick up the shipment and bring it back here. Shipment #2, they drove a truck right to our door. Shipment #3, Seth went to Johannesburg to pick up the things, but they fit in our truck. This shipment exceeded our truck. Seth borrowed a trailer from a friend, but we were concerned about our old truck having trouble pulling the load.

Some of the bins were taken off before I thought to take a picture.

Another small drama came up when the shipment arrived in port in Durban. The receiving company told us to put our signature on a couple of forms to get it through customs. But one of the forms required our signatured promise that we had not shipped any “vegetable matter” or stuff from bees. Unfortunately, we had! We shipped a huge tub of coconut oil, and two boxes of beeswax. Our hope was to use it as a church to make homemade lip balm to sell to make money for our church building.

When Seth contacted the clearing agent to discuss the form, the agent advised him to lie. “Just don’t read the forms, sign the papers, and send it back.” If we admitted that we had those items in our shipment, it might hold up our getting the items for weeks as the customs officials would probably search our entire shipment (a scary thought as far as keeping the items in tact! :(), and they might confiscate the oil and beeswax, as well as anything else they might want! Can you tell I struggle with trusting government officials over here? There is so much corruption.

Now those three items sitting in obvious view on the top of our pallet of materials were compromising our shipment! And we had bought and added them to our shipment on the very last day we actually shipped it. It was a last minute decision, and I felt terrible about it on this end. “We shouldn’t have done it!” I worried. I had had no idea that those wouldn’t be accepted in the country.

No matter your philosophy on lying and whether it is acceptable in war or to save life or whatever, I don’t think this situation fits. We couldn’t justify lying in this situation. I am so thankful that Seth didn’t lie, tempting as it was. He checked the two boxes, signed his name, and sent the form back. Later that day, the agent informed us that our shipment had been cleared, with no further problems! Oh we were so thankful that we had done the right thing! God blessed Seth for his truthfulness. And even if we had experienced problems, it still would have been right to tell the truth. God hates lying—much more than we would have hated losing our things!

Seth took a day and a half to visit church members in Johannesburg and returned with our things Thursday evening. (He also managed to make a plan to repair our piano!) He took a young man from our church with him to help keep him awake and to visit the other church members. They had so many valuable discussions together! Maybe I’ll share some of those lessons later…

The young man who went on the trip with Seth!

Everything worked out beautifully:

• The truck had no breakdowns.
• The shipment wasn’t too heavy for the trailer.
• Seth didn’t fall asleep while driving. (This was a definite concern!)
• Visits with church members went wonderfully.
• Our things got through customs and arrived to us in good condition.
• And we even got the piano down there to be repaired!

We took time, like Noah, to thank God afterwards for bringing us safely over the sea. It is so good to have so many comforts with us here.

Sunday Scriptures

Laughs from Little Ones

The other day, our oldest son was trying to encourage his brother to eat his peas.  He said, “Danny, they are so good!  It is like that song, ‘I’ve got peas like a river!’”  After we stopped laughing, we explained to Gilbert that the song says, “I’ve got peace like a river,” not peas!

At the breakfast table one morning, Gilbert said something to Bonnie.  She said, “Liar, liar, pants on fire!” back to him.  Gilbert said, “Mom, Bonnie called me a liar.”  Bonnie said, “I wasn’t calling you a liar, Gilbert.  I was just practicing!”  It is not a bad idea to practice what you say before you say it, but I do not think that was what she was doing.

Until next week, keep your sunny side up!

Open Your Own Doors

I was one frustrated missionary! I would pray and pray and make lots of contacts. I knew people on the street and many shop keepers. I was friendly and smiling, and the people would talk to me—about the weather, my kids, and superficial things. Day after day, I went by and chatted and smiled, praying for an opportunity to share the gospel. Truly, if there was an open door, I didn’t see it. I tried to steer conversations in the right direction, but they weren’t going there.

We serve in the Basque region of Spain. It is a gorgeous part of Europe with a culture just about as old as the hills around us. The people are friendly, helpful, and kind. But they have no interest whatsoever in God. There are a few exceptions, but overall, the people would call themselves “atheists.”

I was talking to a friend in Madrid one afternoon, and she said, “They always tell you about the millions who are waiting for someone to tell them the gospel. They don’t tell you about the millions who couldn’t care less.”

How do you reach them?

As I was frustrated and praying and in constant contact with the same friends, I decided that maybe I could open a few doors for a witness myself. I only needed to look for a different kind of opportunity.

One such is Christmas. Virtually everyone here is from a Roman Catholic background. Most people know that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus—though I have asked some children, and they had no clue. Most people celebrate Christmas with huge meals on Christmas Eve and the extended family together. I decided I could give each of my friends a Christmas card with a letter in it about the warmth of Christmas, telling them why I love Christmas: the message of Christ coming to earth to save us from our sins.

I wrote the letter and got the cards all ready, and then I set out on my quest to give them to everyone I knew in town. All my friends received them gladly. I got hugs and kisses and even a couple of calendars from those who thought they needed to pay me back.

The next time I went to town, some of the people were like igloos in the Arctic. Cold. Scared to death. Others were okay with me. I continued to smile, frequent the same shops, and even the igloos melted a little. I didn’t confront or push again—until the next Christmas.

One of the places I wanted to leave my letters was a little tobacco shop on the backside of town. (Don’t get the wrong idea; it’s a government shop and also sells postage stamps.) I went by twice, and both times, the shop was full to overflowing out the door. (It sells lottery tickets, too.) So I didn’t get my letter delivered to that little store. I had wanted to make face-to-face contact.

Several weeks after the Christmas holidays, I was in the tobacco shop, and the daughter waited on me. She looked very sad, so I asked her if she was okay. She answered “no.” So I asked why, and she said, “Don’t you know?” I asked her if I had offended her in any way, and she said, “No. My brother died.” Theirs is a family business, and I knew her brother. He was a very courteous, handsome young man in his twenties. I asked her what had happened. He had been mountain climbing, had hit a patch of ice, and had fallen. A couple of weeks later, he died.

It was a gut punch. This was one of the only places where I had known the people and hadn’t gotten my letter delivered. And now, one of them had died, surely without the Lord. I told her how sorry I was. A few days later, I took New Testaments for this young woman and her mother, along with a letter containing my memories of the young man, salvation, and my sincere prayers for them. I opened my own door . . . but it was too late for one.

People we know are dying. They are going out into eternity. They might be only twenty-four, like my young friend. Or they might be eighty. We are responsible to get the gospel to them, somehow, some way. If they won’t talk to us, we must try to get them to read a tract. If they won’t listen, perhaps they will read. If they can’t read, maybe they will listen.

Here are some ideas for opening your own doors:

• Sports and exercise—coaching sports teams, basketball tournament, aerobics classes
• Offering free crafts, art, or a sewing class with devotions
• Teaching English, with a Bible lesson each time
• Giving music lessons
• Neighborhood children’s Bible clubs (with mothers invited, always with parental approval)
• Cooking/baking classes
• You take a class.
• Writing—blogging, ladies’ magazine with testimonies included, social media posts that include Scripture for your unsaved friends, cards and letters at Christmas or other holidays, an online magazine for women that contains salvation testimonies from church ladies in your country 

Surely, you’ve already thought of another one.

Of course, nothing opens doors more than friendship. Be a friend. Let friendship grow. Try to steer the conversation to spiritual things. If they won’t open up to spiritual things, they will surely read a personal letter or a tract you give to them.

Pray. Pray that God will open doors and help you think of innovative ways to reach people where you are. I know He will bless!

I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door,

and no man can shut it:

for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word,

and hast not denied my name (Revelation 3:8).