2020

You may have noticed that I was a little grumpy during our last 2 legs. I certainly did. And Rand seemed a little grumpy too. When I approached him about it he said, "I'm thinking about what we are going to do when we land... where we'll live, what I'll do for work..." We hadn't been having nearly as much fun as we'd had in the beginning, and the biggest reason for that was because we were so much in our heads. Randy was thinking about how he was going to take care of us once we got to Ohio. And I was thinking about the kids we'd left behind in Mexico. We received an email in May letting us know that Mari, one of the dorm moms in Mexico and the daughter of the administrators who we worked closely with, had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. She'd lost her vision and was preparing to start chemotherapy. Our hearts broke, and mine was still broken a month later. I felt so helpless, unable to do anything for my friends, unable to ...

Way back in February -- Valentine's Day and the first day of Lent, to be exact, I took on the challenge of giving $40 to 40 different organizations over the course of the 40 days of Lent. 40-40-40 . Shortly after starting that challenge, my grandmother died unexpectedly, knocking me off course for a few weeks. Committed to seeing the challenge through, however, I decided to keep my eyes and ears and heart open while undertaking the Great American Road Trip with my husband as we transition from Mexico to Ohio. What I discovered on that journey was a great big world that is both beautiful and in need, and it is full of beautiful people who want to help. The problem is, sometimes our helping hurts . While getting to know my high school friend Jim's wife over dinner one night in Sherwood, Oregon, Mel shared with me about an organization called "Days for Girls." Days for Girls was started when a woman named Celeste inquired about what girls in India do when they ar...

Neither Randy nor I have spent much time in Colorado, so when we started looking at the map, we were overwhelmed by how much there was to do. From National Parks to state parks to monuments and museums, it seemed like we could spend a month here and not even begin to see all that Colorado has to offer. Not to mention the sheer beauty of just driving down the highway, passing one mountain range after another. And yet, what we really wanted to do was go to church in Parker with a group of people who had come to San Felipe last October on a mission trip. We made so many incredible friends while in Mexico and we were anxious to see some of them. To reminisce about what an amazing place Sonshine Hacienda is, and to pray together about what God is doing next. So we made a beeline from Albuquerque to Denver, stopping southwest of the city to go to Crossroads Community Church on Sunday morning. The church has 4 services—so a ton of people go here—yet while standing in...

My word of the year presented itself sometime in November. My first thought was, "Ew." It was NOT the word I was hoping for. But none of them -- embrace, walk with, serve, share -- have turned out like I expected. So maybe this one, too, would be okay. But really  -- FIERCE --  are you sure God, that you are speaking to ME? Fierce makes me think of desperate older women chasing younger men. Fierce makes me think of fake cat noises. Fierce makes this pacifist think of war paint and javelins. Fierce sounds like energy and intensity and a strength that I just don't have. Fierce makes me tired. So I suppose, once again, that God wants to challenge me to embrace this word as coming from him and his vision for who I could be, or perhaps underneath it all who I already am. And what would be so wrong with ending 2018 stronger, more passionate, wilder and bolder and empowered? As someone who STANDS for something. As I've looked into "fierce...

This summer 11 kids have left Sonshine Hacienda. Three new kids joined us. And another one came and left again within a matter of 24 hours. It has been emotionally exhausting. Randy was particularly close to 3-year-old Pamela who left. And I to 12-year-old Brayan. Pamela started and ended each day running into Randy’s arms, batting her eyes for an extra helping of food, throwing her head back when she laughed. She left a huge hole in our family. Brayan and I would talk about whatever was on his mind each evening as we cleaned the dining room. Sometimes that was him wondering what high school would be like in a few years, or whether or not his brother and aunt would come to visit him this weekend, or if he could be involved in sports or other activities outside the casa. He would tell me about the other children’s homes where he had lived, ones that also had American missionaries, ones that allowed video games (we do not), ones that also had trampolines like ours. ...

I’ve noticed that more often than not, when we tell kids to “share” we don’t actually mean it. Randy and I have very different communication styles. I am literal; he is general. Por ejemplo (for example), if someone asks “Is that what you mean?” I will answer “si” or “no.” Randy will answer “mas o menos” (more or less). This is too vague for me. I want to mean what I say and say what I mean. The literal definition of sharing is to “give a portion of something to someone else,” or to “enjoy together.” But when we tell our kids to share, isn’t it true that we are more likely to praise them if they give away their toy and go off to play with something else? Isn’t it true that we are more likely to praise them if they give away a bigger portion of the snack they have and settle for the lesser portion? Yet it would still be sharing if they gave away a lesser portion. It would still be sharing if they asked for 5 minutes alone with their toy first before giving th...