2020

Because it is hot nearly year-round in San Felipe, we've had to come up with a new way to "define" the seasons. There is no rainy season, snowy season, tornado season. Instead we define our seasons by which bugs are attacking us. When we first moved into our apartment at the children's home, I noticed that all of our outlets had these "bug magnets" plugged into them. I didn't know if that was reassuring or terrifying. Reassuring that we were actively repelling them. But terrifying that they are enough of a problem to require a force field around us. We have lived here since November, and so far we have been through 3 seasons. We moved here during fly season. So many flies! Inside, outside, there was no avoiding them. I guess it just doesn't get cold enough to kill them off. But if I thought fly season was bad, that was nothing compared to mosquito season, which struck around the middle of February. I started noticing them in the offi

Every Saturday morning I lead devotions for the kids. We use "El Libro Devocional de Maravillas" ("Wonders Devotional Book") to guide us. It includes a Scripture, a short explanation about what the Scripture says, and why it is important to our lives. In addition to the reading, I always try to have a little activity for the kids -- something to help them remember the devotion. Last Saturday's devotion was about the importance of trusting God, so I decided we would do a "trust fall" as our activity. We used to do this at camp every summer when I was growing up. We would have to stand on platforms of various heights and fall straight backwards into the arms of our friends and fellow campers. Terrifying. As I was preparing for the activity on Friday night, 7-year-old Anita walked into the room. I asked her to turn around and fall into my arms. She did without any hesitation. Such trust! I was totally jealous. On Saturday morning, Anita an

Mexicali is the nearest big city to us in Mexico. It is a 2-hour drive (the closest stoplight!), and it is where we pick up our monthly "dispensa" from DIF. DIF (pronounced "Deef") is equivalent to Child Protective Services. They are the ones who bring us children, who work with parents to help them change their lifestyles so that the children can return to a safe and caring environment, who set our rules and regulations, and who check on us to make sure that we are abiding by them. They are also in charge of giving us our monthly "dispensa." The dispensa is our monthly distribution of food. We only receive about $50 a year in financial support from the government for each child who lives with us. To compensate for that, they give us a generous allotment of food each month. Randy and I picked up the dispensa for the first time last week. Our entire backseat was filled to the ceiling with beans, rice, pasta, lentils, dry milk, canned vegetabl

I'm not very good at sharing. That may be obvious to you, as my word of the year is "share" and I haven't even managed to write a blog a week. For one, I'm busy and tired. But more so, I think I'm overthinking the whole thing. Like I'm waiting for this Divine inspiration, this deep meaning to life, before I can put words to "paper." It dawned on me, however, that I started this whole blogging thing four years ago to simply share daily life with you. And it felt more meaningful and purposeful then, in the ordinary, than it does now, waiting for the extraordinary. So I'm going to try to go back to the daily and see if I can't be a better sharer. Today I'll share a little story from Randy and my trip to California on Wednesday. Wednesday is our "descansa" -- our rest day each week. Some Wednesdays we don't get off the couch. But that isn't always restful. We live at the children's home, so we still

Most mornings our children have a time of devotions before they eat breakfast. They like to sing songs, followed by a time of Bible reading, and then ending in prayer. Today Mama Imelda, our administrator, led devotions for the children. She titled the devotion: "The Heavy Backpack." The Scripture she used was Salmos 55:22, Echa sobre el SEÑOR tu carga, y El te sustentará; El nunca permitirá que el justo sea sacudido. Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken. -Psalm 55:22 Mama Imelda explained that when we try to carry all of our burdens ourselves, each burden is like adding another book to your backpack. The kids could relate to this because their backpacks are burdens! Any time I pick them up from school, one or more of them try to pawn their backpacks off on me to carry on our walk home. And I don't blame them! They weigh a ton! She explained that when something hurts our feelings, we have

This week we officially became card-carrying residents of Mexico. We celebrated with street tacos and binge-watching "Santa Clarita Diet" on Netflix. It was as anti-climactic as it sounds. "I thought I'd be more excited," Randy said, when we sat in the car staring at our green cards. Which really are green. After 7 months of time, money, and paperwork, we were worn out. Only to be told we'd have to start the process all over again every October. More paperwork. More money. More waiting. Randy and I are very clear that this is where God wants us to be at this point in our lives. But that doesn't mean it is all easy or all fun. It's a lot of waiting. It's a lot of paperwork. It's a lot of doing things wrong first, so that we can be corrected and then told how to do them right. It would be easier to just pack up and walk away. But we are committed to the process. For better and for worse. Until God tells us othe