Ciudad Dario es a medium-sized town in Nicaragua. I just spent three days there doing a seminar on Peacemaking for a group of teachers in a Christian school. Teaching on the subject has become my passion over the last eight years or so. The material itself has changed as I have learned more. My perspective has changed too, from how do you get out of conflict once you are in one, to how to live a life a peace, whether or not you are in a conflict. More recently, I have delved into the subject of bullying. It is interesting that I am yet to find a word in Spanish that is the equivalent (there are lots of bullys who speak Spanish, just not a single word that really expresses the same idea as the English word).
The teachers are supposed to start the school year next week, and I knew that they had lots they still needed to do, so I finished up my seminar at about 2pm on Friday so they could have a couple extra hours to work. While I waited for my hostess, I sat down with one of the books I had brought along in case someone wanted to buy a book (no one had any money to buy books)It was The Wounded Spirit by Frank Perretti. It had impacted me the first time I read it and impacted me again as I re-read it in the light of what I have been studying about bullies. There are some things that a person can and should do alone, there are other things that a person should never have to face alone, and one of them is bullying. Just wondering...what is your experience? Ever been bullied, and had to face it alone? Ever been a bully or watched bullying and done nothing? What would have helped you?
sábado, 31 de enero de 2009
sábado, 24 de enero de 2009
Winter
I keep pictures from Victoria, BC on my screen saver. Just thought a one of them might cheer up some of you who are in the midst of winter. Spring will come!!
Rural Honduras
Yesterday we took Tim and Donna Wright to see some of Santa Barbara. They are going to be coming to live in Santa Barbara toward the end of the year. (Lord willing) We are looking forward to working closer with them. Here they are seeing the little hill top that we are reforesting. We are dreaming about a place where pastors and their wives could come to get away. So far it is just a dream, but who knows...While we were looking around, we saw some pretty typical rural Honduran scenes...
Leaf-cutter ants, which are fascinating critters, if they just wouldn't strip the leaves off of our baby trees.A litter of piglets...mama was behind the fence.
A team of 30 mules that was going to carry materials to a remote area for something to do with an electrical system.
miércoles, 21 de enero de 2009
Influence
We are home for a few days between travel. This week we spent time at the association of churches' annual business meeting. Business meetings are a bit dreary, but I was glad I decided to go with John instead of staying home. John always takes books to sell (at a better price than they can get anywhere else) and serves free coffee, so a lot of people come by his table to talk.
There were a couple of moments that really impressed me. On the last day, a lady came up to John and told him how a Sunday School lesson he taught at their church had encouraged her. She had shared the same lesson in a couple of other contexts, and people had loved it. We had visited her church kind of as an after thought, and John had given one of those "I have a lesson prepared in case I am asked" lessons.
At another point, a young man from the church we had attended in San Pedro when we lived there stopped me. He told me how they were continuing Andrew's ministry with puppets and that it was impacting people. Andrew and I got involved with doing puppets because Andrew needed a way to serve. He had enjoyed working with some of the younger young people in the church, but we figured the ministry would die after he left.
Christina is a wonderful young woman, with three children. Her husband is studying at the seminary. They live in a small apartment above the library. She and her husband often help John sell books. In the course of one conversation she told me that she often remembers how I told her that she should enjoy her children and not worry so much if the house isn`t 100% perfect all the time. I don't remember even saying that (though it sounds like something I would say).
Influence. We influence people all the time by what we say and do and are. We never know what it is that is going to be significant to someone else. That's why it is all important. It matters how we live the ordinary.
There were a couple of moments that really impressed me. On the last day, a lady came up to John and told him how a Sunday School lesson he taught at their church had encouraged her. She had shared the same lesson in a couple of other contexts, and people had loved it. We had visited her church kind of as an after thought, and John had given one of those "I have a lesson prepared in case I am asked" lessons.
At another point, a young man from the church we had attended in San Pedro when we lived there stopped me. He told me how they were continuing Andrew's ministry with puppets and that it was impacting people. Andrew and I got involved with doing puppets because Andrew needed a way to serve. He had enjoyed working with some of the younger young people in the church, but we figured the ministry would die after he left.
Christina is a wonderful young woman, with three children. Her husband is studying at the seminary. They live in a small apartment above the library. She and her husband often help John sell books. In the course of one conversation she told me that she often remembers how I told her that she should enjoy her children and not worry so much if the house isn`t 100% perfect all the time. I don't remember even saying that (though it sounds like something I would say).
Influence. We influence people all the time by what we say and do and are. We never know what it is that is going to be significant to someone else. That's why it is all important. It matters how we live the ordinary.
lunes, 19 de enero de 2009
Problems and Perspective
I thought I had a great idea for a blog. I had had a frustrating morning trying to get some photocopies made. It took me four tries to find a place that could take the information on my memory stick and turn it into an original, then when I finally got to a place that could make the copies, the power went off in the middle of making my copies, so I only got half as many as I needed.
The story I had in mind, of course, was longer than that
and whinier.
Then I sat in a business meeting and heard the story of a group of men who are trying to keep a Christian Radio station on the air in southern Honduras. Here is a synopsis of the report that was given:
November 28, 2007--the station went off the air due to damage to their UHF receptor.
In this lapse of time there were legal problems because someone else wanted their frequency (since they weren't using it).
Six months later, May 8, 2008,the damaged receptor was repaired and they were back on the air.
Two weeks later, some tubes were damaged.
While they were installing the new tubes, there was a lightning strike which burned up several pieces of a transmitter and a condenser.
Resolving these problems, they got back on the air. In September, 2008, strong winds hit the area, breaking a high tension line which hit some kind of connector on the transmitter, breaking it. (I am not sure if it is the transmitter or the connector, but something broke.) It took 40 days to get someone to fix that for a price they could afford to pay.
Meanwhile, the power company cut the power.
As they were re-connecting the power, there was a power surge which burned up some tubes.
They got back on the air.
Then the guard, who left the station for a short time because his wife was having a baby, returned to discover that thieves had stolen 30 meters of copper wire.
The people who want their frequency continued to cause them legal problems. While they were working out these problems, they were hit again by lightning.
At this point, the decision is made to move the tower to a more strategic place, which involved carrying cement in buckets up a mountain to install the base.
I looked at the photocopies in my hand, and decided my morning had gone pretty well after all.
The story I had in mind, of course, was longer than that
and whinier.
Then I sat in a business meeting and heard the story of a group of men who are trying to keep a Christian Radio station on the air in southern Honduras. Here is a synopsis of the report that was given:
November 28, 2007--the station went off the air due to damage to their UHF receptor.
In this lapse of time there were legal problems because someone else wanted their frequency (since they weren't using it).
Six months later, May 8, 2008,the damaged receptor was repaired and they were back on the air.
Two weeks later, some tubes were damaged.
While they were installing the new tubes, there was a lightning strike which burned up several pieces of a transmitter and a condenser.
Resolving these problems, they got back on the air. In September, 2008, strong winds hit the area, breaking a high tension line which hit some kind of connector on the transmitter, breaking it. (I am not sure if it is the transmitter or the connector, but something broke.) It took 40 days to get someone to fix that for a price they could afford to pay.
Meanwhile, the power company cut the power.
As they were re-connecting the power, there was a power surge which burned up some tubes.
They got back on the air.
Then the guard, who left the station for a short time because his wife was having a baby, returned to discover that thieves had stolen 30 meters of copper wire.
The people who want their frequency continued to cause them legal problems. While they were working out these problems, they were hit again by lightning.
At this point, the decision is made to move the tower to a more strategic place, which involved carrying cement in buckets up a mountain to install the base.
I looked at the photocopies in my hand, and decided my morning had gone pretty well after all.
jueves, 15 de enero de 2009
Watching the inauguration
I don't know how many people around the world will watch the presidential inauguration next week. Millions and millions I suppose. We don't have a TV and very slow internet service, so have invited ourselves to a friend's house to watch it with her. My love for my country is probably typical of people who have spent a lot of their lives living outside of it. I can see her flaws with an outsider's eye, and her strengths with an insider's heart.
I know some people who are incredibly excited about the Obama presidency, I know others who are, well, not. I personally am praying that God will protect our new president and give him great wisdom and courage. Who would have thought that one of the most challenging moments of our country's history would intersect with this historic changing of the guard?
I know some people who are incredibly excited about the Obama presidency, I know others who are, well, not. I personally am praying that God will protect our new president and give him great wisdom and courage. Who would have thought that one of the most challenging moments of our country's history would intersect with this historic changing of the guard?
miércoles, 14 de enero de 2009
Playing UNO with Betty
UNO was the first game we learned to play in Spanish. It was easy to play and allowed for simple conversation. That particular set of cards went through a lot of "hands" and eventually we replaced with a new deck.
A couple of days ago, I played UNO with Betty and her kids. Her kids like to come to my house because I have games. Their favorite is the custom made Monopoly game that Andrew received for Christmas one year. (He got to name all the spaces, etc). There wasn´t enough time for Monopoly before dinner, so the three kids and I played a hand of UNO--Betty watched. The second hand, we talked her into playing and the third hand she won.
That might not sound like much to those who have spent countless hours playing a game with siblings, extended family or friends. Lots of people have a regular game night where they play some kind of game. Our friends, the Higers, love to play Cribbage, and even played it on airplanes, I think. But Betty had never played a game before in her life. When she was a girl, any free time she had was spent hauling water for her mother or cooking or whatever other chore her mother had for her. Playing of any kind was way outside her experience.
So many children in the world have childhoods like Betty's. The idea of "fun" isn't part of their lives. Children of war, children of poverty, children whose lives are hard work from the time they can walk on their own. Children who never get a chance to be children.
The amazing thing to me is that people grow up to be beautiful, content, loving people like Betty is. If you were talk to Betty about her childhood you would not hear a hint of bitterness in her voice. The leisure time to sit at the kitchen table and play a game was not so very important to her. Being loved and appreciated was.
I think playing games with kids is a great and important thing to do. Spending time with your kids doing most anything together is an important thing to do. But it's the loving that is expressed in doing those things that matters the most. "Though we play Monopoly and Uno and are experts at Cribbage and have not love..."
A couple of days ago, I played UNO with Betty and her kids. Her kids like to come to my house because I have games. Their favorite is the custom made Monopoly game that Andrew received for Christmas one year. (He got to name all the spaces, etc). There wasn´t enough time for Monopoly before dinner, so the three kids and I played a hand of UNO--Betty watched. The second hand, we talked her into playing and the third hand she won.
That might not sound like much to those who have spent countless hours playing a game with siblings, extended family or friends. Lots of people have a regular game night where they play some kind of game. Our friends, the Higers, love to play Cribbage, and even played it on airplanes, I think. But Betty had never played a game before in her life. When she was a girl, any free time she had was spent hauling water for her mother or cooking or whatever other chore her mother had for her. Playing of any kind was way outside her experience.
So many children in the world have childhoods like Betty's. The idea of "fun" isn't part of their lives. Children of war, children of poverty, children whose lives are hard work from the time they can walk on their own. Children who never get a chance to be children.
The amazing thing to me is that people grow up to be beautiful, content, loving people like Betty is. If you were talk to Betty about her childhood you would not hear a hint of bitterness in her voice. The leisure time to sit at the kitchen table and play a game was not so very important to her. Being loved and appreciated was.
I think playing games with kids is a great and important thing to do. Spending time with your kids doing most anything together is an important thing to do. But it's the loving that is expressed in doing those things that matters the most. "Though we play Monopoly and Uno and are experts at Cribbage and have not love..."
lunes, 12 de enero de 2009
The little old lady who lives on the curve in the road
There is a stretch of road between San Luis and Colinas that we drive with some frequency. Not every week or every month even, but quite a few times in the course of a year. We had been warned that it is a particularly dangerous piece of road--lots of robberies. Part of the road is in pretty good condition and part is not. There are a couple of places on the bad part of the road where a curve requires a driver to slow way down, and thieves have been known to take advantage of that spot to ply their trade. We haven't had any trouble. Our car is not the kind that attracts much attention and we don't travel that road at night.
John was forced to stop there once when a truck blocked the road. The truck driver said he needed a ride up the hill. Scarey moment. It turned out that the truck really had broken down on the worst possible spot on the road and the driver needed a ride back up the hill to where he could get a cell phone signal to call for help.
Like I said, it is a road with a lot of curves and after driving it quite a few times, certain curves have begun to have a particular identity in my mind. The curve with the pretty fence, the curve with the school, the "be careful to not stop there" curve, for example. One curve I think of as "the house of the little old lady." The house is maybe closer to Colinas than San Luis, right before the road gets bad or the road gets better, depending on which direction you are driving. A tiny, elderly lady is almost always standing outside of the house which is part adobe- part stick and mud-part plastic tarp. Invariably, she is waving. Not the kind of wave that says "hello, I'm glad you are driving by my house," but the kind of wave that says, "stop and talk to me." I had always figured she was perhaps a bit senial. "Poor thing¨ I would think as we drove by.
Then, today in the paper, I saw the face of my tiny -little-old -lady -who -lives -on -the -curve- in -the- road. The picture showed an elderly lady like a thousand other elderly country women in Honduras-- short, thin, stocking cap on her head, face lined with a hundred wrinkles, a bundle of fire wood on her head, yet I knew it was her. A glance at the article proved me right. As it turns out, Doña Telma Angelina, 82, is the sole support of her invalid daughter, who has not walked for ten years. The article in the paper began like this: "Every time she hears a car coming by, she rushes out of her humble house to ask for money."--not because her mind has gone, not to entertain herself on a sunny day, but because she has no other recourse.
A nurse had become aware of Doña Telma's situation and called the newspaper. They sent a reporter, who told her story with the hope that people would respond to her need. I think people will. There are a lot of very generous Hondurans.
I don't tell the story because I feel guilty for not stopping to talk to Doña Telma. There was no particular reason that I should have understood just by seeing her wave. The story impresses me because it emphasizes the fact that everyone has a story. No one is just, "the little old lady who lives on the curve of the road." That is her place in my story, but it is not her story. Her own story is ever so much more eloquent than that.
John was forced to stop there once when a truck blocked the road. The truck driver said he needed a ride up the hill. Scarey moment. It turned out that the truck really had broken down on the worst possible spot on the road and the driver needed a ride back up the hill to where he could get a cell phone signal to call for help.
Like I said, it is a road with a lot of curves and after driving it quite a few times, certain curves have begun to have a particular identity in my mind. The curve with the pretty fence, the curve with the school, the "be careful to not stop there" curve, for example. One curve I think of as "the house of the little old lady." The house is maybe closer to Colinas than San Luis, right before the road gets bad or the road gets better, depending on which direction you are driving. A tiny, elderly lady is almost always standing outside of the house which is part adobe- part stick and mud-part plastic tarp. Invariably, she is waving. Not the kind of wave that says "hello, I'm glad you are driving by my house," but the kind of wave that says, "stop and talk to me." I had always figured she was perhaps a bit senial. "Poor thing¨ I would think as we drove by.
Then, today in the paper, I saw the face of my tiny -little-old -lady -who -lives -on -the -curve- in -the- road. The picture showed an elderly lady like a thousand other elderly country women in Honduras-- short, thin, stocking cap on her head, face lined with a hundred wrinkles, a bundle of fire wood on her head, yet I knew it was her. A glance at the article proved me right. As it turns out, Doña Telma Angelina, 82, is the sole support of her invalid daughter, who has not walked for ten years. The article in the paper began like this: "Every time she hears a car coming by, she rushes out of her humble house to ask for money."--not because her mind has gone, not to entertain herself on a sunny day, but because she has no other recourse.
A nurse had become aware of Doña Telma's situation and called the newspaper. They sent a reporter, who told her story with the hope that people would respond to her need. I think people will. There are a lot of very generous Hondurans.
I don't tell the story because I feel guilty for not stopping to talk to Doña Telma. There was no particular reason that I should have understood just by seeing her wave. The story impresses me because it emphasizes the fact that everyone has a story. No one is just, "the little old lady who lives on the curve of the road." That is her place in my story, but it is not her story. Her own story is ever so much more eloquent than that.
sábado, 10 de enero de 2009
Pictures 2
One of things I've been doing lately is going through old picture albums. We are trying to downsize in order to get our library of books into a much smaller space and that has included trying to get rid of duplicate or not so good pictures. Pictures on the computer don`t count, of course. I quite easily got rid of my offending "fat" Christmas picture with a click of a mouse, but it didn`t free up any space on a bookshelf. I have managed to eliminate about four albums worth of pictures, which is great, and have relived a lot of my kids' childhoods, which has been even greater. They are four very fine people. I can't think of a stage of life when they weren't a delight to my heart. Not perfect people, of course, but people of integrity and courage. I love my kids.
Pictures 1
The first day of the seminars we do for couples in ministry, we take a picture of each couple. Then the ladies make a pretty frame to put it in and they take it home as a remembrance of the days we have had together. Some couples are quick to put an arm around each other and smile for the camera, other couples have to be reminded that they are supposed to at least look like friends. Almost always there is someone who isn't satisfied with the first picture and ask me to take another one. Since it is often the only picture they will have as a couple, I don`t mind redoing one or two, even though I can rarely see what was wrong with the first one. Its a fun activity that means a lot to them. I enjoy doing it. Digital cameras make it even more fun when I can crop the picture or brighten up the colors and things like that.
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) going through pictures on the computer when we got home to Santa Barbara I came across one taken at Christmas-- face to face with a picture of myself. Oh my goodness! Where did all those extra pounds come from? There was no cropping or brightening that was going to fix it! There I was in all my chubby glory (and no, I am not going to put the picture on the blog so you can see for yourself).
I have never been much for New Year's resolutions, particularly ones related to weight, but me thinks the time has come. I have the disadvantage of not having anyone who is really going to hold me accountable. (John loves me like I am, bless his heart.) So, will you. my blog reader friend?
Happy New Year
Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it) going through pictures on the computer when we got home to Santa Barbara I came across one taken at Christmas-- face to face with a picture of myself. Oh my goodness! Where did all those extra pounds come from? There was no cropping or brightening that was going to fix it! There I was in all my chubby glory (and no, I am not going to put the picture on the blog so you can see for yourself).
I have never been much for New Year's resolutions, particularly ones related to weight, but me thinks the time has come. I have the disadvantage of not having anyone who is really going to hold me accountable. (John loves me like I am, bless his heart.) So, will you. my blog reader friend?
Happy New Year
jueves, 8 de enero de 2009
solar ovens
We just got back from most of a week in Choluteca, in southern Honduras. The weather there is hot like in Panama, except that it is a dry heat. The days we were there were really nice, as far as I was concerned. Reminded me of Panama a lot, at least Panama when it was "cool."
We went to do a pastor/wives seminar with another couple. They did a lot of the teaching, so it was a much easier week than the last time we did a seminar and had to do it all ourselves. Besides the teaching, John took a long a solar oven and each day we cooked something different in it.(chicken and rice the first day, meat and potatoes the second and a pot of beans the third)
John has been interested in sun ovens for a long time, and Choluteca just seemed like a perfect place to promote them. Lots and lots of sunshine. the second day was just a bit cloudy, but even so the food was cooked by lunch time. Everyone was fascinated and they were all willing to "help us out" with our solar oven project. We left the oven we with a young couple who live in an area that is Mongrove swamp. No cutting of trees is allowed, so wood for cooking is scarce, expensive and sometimes illegal. They were really pleased and I think they will really give a go at using it. We have about 8 more ovens at home we will get to some of the other couples and have a source of several more. It was exciting to me because this has been one of John's dreams for a long time. To actually have people excited about using it is really special.
We went to do a pastor/wives seminar with another couple. They did a lot of the teaching, so it was a much easier week than the last time we did a seminar and had to do it all ourselves. Besides the teaching, John took a long a solar oven and each day we cooked something different in it.(chicken and rice the first day, meat and potatoes the second and a pot of beans the third)
John has been interested in sun ovens for a long time, and Choluteca just seemed like a perfect place to promote them. Lots and lots of sunshine. the second day was just a bit cloudy, but even so the food was cooked by lunch time. Everyone was fascinated and they were all willing to "help us out" with our solar oven project. We left the oven we with a young couple who live in an area that is Mongrove swamp. No cutting of trees is allowed, so wood for cooking is scarce, expensive and sometimes illegal. They were really pleased and I think they will really give a go at using it. We have about 8 more ovens at home we will get to some of the other couples and have a source of several more. It was exciting to me because this has been one of John's dreams for a long time. To actually have people excited about using it is really special.
viernes, 2 de enero de 2009
Living in a library
It is a long standing family joke that we live in a library. John's extensive study library has been his answer to seminary, our many children's books the answer to living where there was no public library to speak of and books on spirituality, family issues and peacemaking my answer to an unquenchable thirst to learn in those areas. Browsing bookstores is a family tradition, buying a book a treat, reading a book a delight, getting rid of a book really hard.
Since moving to Santa Barbara, we have been renting office space, which we have used as classroom, dorm room for pastors at the post grado and library. Unfortunately, the office has flooded several times (books and water are not a good combination). That, and the several other factors convinced us that it is time to give up the office, and bring "everything" to the house.
Actually bringing "everything" to the house would have meant that we wouldn`t have had room to live in the house, so we have started the process of sorting out what we really need and what we could send on to a new home. We've done everything from getting rid of an extra bed to getting rid of extra tupperware. Little by little, the library is getting weeded out. Every box of books sent to a new home has meant saying goodbye to old friends. With bookshelves on just about every available wall, our house does still, indeed, look like a library. A more streamlined library, perhaps, but still pretty significant in an age when a lot of people don`t seem to read much at all.
One of my favorite quotes on reading is from Mark Twain who said, "he who does not read has no advantage or he who cannot read." Books have challenged me to keep thinking and learning. Books have helped me see beyond the boundaries of my somewhat limited experience to understand the world beyond my vision. Books have made me laugh and cry. They have made me angry, filled me with awe, put me to sleep, wakened me to something new. I like turning the pages. I like reading in the house, in the car, under a tree, at the beach, in waiting rooms. I especially like reading with children. I do not mind at all living in a library.
Since moving to Santa Barbara, we have been renting office space, which we have used as classroom, dorm room for pastors at the post grado and library. Unfortunately, the office has flooded several times (books and water are not a good combination). That, and the several other factors convinced us that it is time to give up the office, and bring "everything" to the house.
Actually bringing "everything" to the house would have meant that we wouldn`t have had room to live in the house, so we have started the process of sorting out what we really need and what we could send on to a new home. We've done everything from getting rid of an extra bed to getting rid of extra tupperware. Little by little, the library is getting weeded out. Every box of books sent to a new home has meant saying goodbye to old friends. With bookshelves on just about every available wall, our house does still, indeed, look like a library. A more streamlined library, perhaps, but still pretty significant in an age when a lot of people don`t seem to read much at all.
One of my favorite quotes on reading is from Mark Twain who said, "he who does not read has no advantage or he who cannot read." Books have challenged me to keep thinking and learning. Books have helped me see beyond the boundaries of my somewhat limited experience to understand the world beyond my vision. Books have made me laugh and cry. They have made me angry, filled me with awe, put me to sleep, wakened me to something new. I like turning the pages. I like reading in the house, in the car, under a tree, at the beach, in waiting rooms. I especially like reading with children. I do not mind at all living in a library.
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