When we getting ready for the green card interview last week, we had to bring a few pictures to chronicle our relationship. It’s funny to think we met right here in Missouri at the Missionary Training Center all those years ago. 19 years ago. The photos showed such young faces, no wrinkles, no grey hairs, full of hope, a fair share of fear and with very little experience. .
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I’m glad we didn’t know all we know now about what the years ahead would hold. Just knowing the facts would have crashed all our hope and multiplied our fears. It would have paralyzed us. .
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But the experience changed it all. Walking through some of the most difficult things, seeing the heartaches, feeling so overwhelmed, terrified of the unknowns and wrestling with the doubts - we experienced first hand and whole heartedly the wonderful presence of Jesus. He has been our Shepherd, our grace-giver, our answer, our provider, our comfort, our joy and our confidence. .
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His presence of grace and truth with us in the most difficult of struggles, changed everything - starting with us. He enabled us to keep stepping out in faith each and every day. .
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As we walked and talked around a foggy lake this morning, looking ahead into more unknowns and unsure of the plans that lay ahead for us, we are still so full of hope but no longer controlled by fear; because that same Jesus, also goes before us. .
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While the world longs to hold on to youth, it seems growing old together in the faith is the most glorious, wonderful thing. And after the last year we have been through, we are now convinced that time together is not just the present, it is the present. Time is not to be slowed down, fought against, or pined after, it is to be received, embraced and given away - all as grace. We have today to live life with Jesus and tomorrow will take care of itself. .
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Psalms 90:12 - So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.
My heart has been stirred so much this week as I listened to speakers from around the world, sharing needs of so many opportunities for the gospel to go forth....but the laborers are few. .
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We also had the opportunity this week to share about the village where we had to leave, the dear Ga-dang people. We know them; their faces, their names, can hear their voices still in our memories and we miss being part of their lives, miss the hope of working hard to bring the gospel to them.
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And in this busy week of looking at the big picture of missions, I spent my week, getting the kids back and forth to school, setting out snacks to feed the staff and students, hosting dinners, doing laundry, small-talking with visitors. .
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Oh my heart. Stirred to the big vision of missions, while living one small and quiet life. .
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To be called back when you just want to go is confusing, humbling, soul-refining. .
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As I struggled through this week, wanting so much to be part of the big vision and the big picture, the Lord reminded me, to color between the lines, right where I am. To color each regular day and all the mundane activity, with a filter of eternity, knowing He sees the greatest picture of all and has a plan and purpose for each little shade and change of color. .
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Obedience to His will, acceptance of His plans and a holy joy to be in the presence of God as we live out our regular lives - that’s my big picture. As I color between the lines in what He has given me today, I can trust it is not in vain. It’s not scratch paper, it is His master plan, His masterpiece. .
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Whether it involves school buses on Tuesday mornings, or leading a Bible Study in a remote village in another language - the purpose doesn’t change. Our hearts belong to Him, our purpose to worship and glorify our Savior. And He who knows the eternal picture of His Kingdom will do and direct as He knows best. I can hope and rest and live confident when I set my mind on truth. .
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Such relief, grace, freedom and joy to be able to live for His big picture, for His eternal glory in every little moment of our day. .
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Humbled and grateful that our Lord Jesus calls us, not to a place, but to Himself.
Izzy and Judah were both born in the Philippines and lived in two remote jungle villages. While life was wonderful, sweet, exciting and a privilege, the life of a missionary kid is so complex; difficulties tied to the joys and disappointments intertwined with the adventures. Each families situation is so unique and so different. One of the hardest things for us as a family was that the villages we lived in had multiple languages spoken in them. In their short life there Izzy and Judah heard English at home, but played with kids who spoke, Tagalog, Cuyunon, Ilocano and Ga’dang. It was a jungle of words for them to try and communicate and to learn any language. I’m amazed at what they did understand. .
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When I would look out the window on many occasions Izzy would be surrounded by a bunch of kids and she would be motioning where to go, how to do something, acting things out and using her whole self to try and play and communicate with the kids. It worked! .
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Still to this day, she has an easier time telling a story using lots of actions or acting it out.
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Lately, she has been asking me about sign language a lot. She really wants to learn and I haven’t been able to find anything in the local area here. .
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So, I am just asking here do any of you know of good material, resources that she could learn from at home? Is there an ASL (American Sign Language) program we could use? .
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This morning she has been sitting watching YouTube videos to try and teach herself.
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Who knows what the Lord could be preparing her little heart for all from all those years of trying to communicate in the jungle. If nothing else, she is well aware of being on the outside and that is a huge understanding before learning the signs to communicate. .
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I’d appreciate your help. 😊
This picture popped up on my memories from this day two years ago. This dear lady Manang Mina is from the village we had been living in up in the north of the Philippines before we had to leave. She spoke Ga’dang and Ilocano, I spoke Tagalog and was in the process of learning Ilocano. We could communicate only at a very low level and yet somehow I felt a connection with this lady. She would bring her daughter-in-law to be a go-between though Tagalog so we could talk. She arranged her other daughter-in-law to be my language helper so I could learn to speak Ilocano. She sat in my kitchen one day and asked when I would start teaching them. I wanted nothing more than to do that. This picture was taken early one morning in her house when I brought her up some homemade bread after she had given me some food. In a culture that wasn’t so verbal about their thanks, actions were the way to show gratefulness, time was a gift to be given and received. I sat on that little step in her house and I wanted to know her so much more. I wanted to understand her heart, her fears, her world view, so I could one day with greater understanding help lead her to her Redeemer. .
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The morning after Danny found the tumor, we were packing a bag and gathering what we needed for what we thought was a quick one week trip to Manila. The helicopter flew in to get us at 7am. I had a niggling feeling in my heart that we may not be back. I vividly remember standing outside my front door and seeing this dear lady further down the road carrying something from the little store. I so wanted to call out to her to tell her why we were flying to Manila, to tell her goodbye in case we didn’t come back, but I didn’t have the language to communicate to her. I didn’t want it to be awkward and so I stood and watched her pick her steps through the muddy trail until I could see her no more.
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If I could go back to that moment, I’d run and fling my arms around her not worried how awkward it may be or how little I could explain. I’d just want her to know how much I cared for her. .
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Will you continue to pray with me for the Ga’dang people of the Philippines? Each soul precious to the Lord.
