The boys are taking over. . .the ministry, that is


A few weeks ago I went with Dick, Fernando and Brian to visit Tecpan where Bethel ministries sponsors a number of widows who all live together in a small aldea.  Fernando and Brian had a school project in which they were to do an activity to benefit others, and Fernando wanted to provide a party for the children in the aldea.




To make it a bit more manageable, Dick suggested that they work with the teacher who tutors the children who have sponsors from Bethel.  There are dozens of children in this aldea, and it seems each time we go, we find more and more as they get to know who we are.  Handling all of these kids would be too much for one group to manage.  So we went up to meet with the teacher.


Almost as soon as we got there, the rain began pouring down.  The teacher was on her way, but we had no idea when she would arrive.  We decided to take the time to visit some of the families.


Maria is a young widow with four children who brought us to the in about 2007 when her husband was killed when he was hit by a truck while crossing the highway.  Bethel wanted to help out this single mother and began providing food for the family and eventually built them a house.  Maria has become a good friend over the years, and has done weaving for me and for friends who I have taken to meet her.  She is quite skilled.

This is a guipil (a traditional Mayan blouse) which Maria is currently making for me. It takes her about 6 weeks to make, and she sells them for about 800 quetzales (a bit more than $100).While I don't necessarily need another blouse, I realize this is her only income, and am happy to help her.




Our next stop was to visit Samuel and his family.  Dick met Samuel a number of years ago when Dick discovered he was not attending school, but working in the fields to help support his family.  His mother, too, is a widow.  Dick helped him find a sponsor, and he went to school for a few years. Now Samuel, about age 12, is once again out of school and along with his younger sister working in the fields to bring home what little money they make, and making it possible for their younger brothers to go to school.

The kids in this family always seem to need shoes. . .and this is not an exaggeration.  Often they have nothing more than rubber boots to wear, and many of these have seen better days.


It seemed incredible how many of us fit into the small overhang outside of Maria's house as we waited for the teacher.  This is when Fernando truly began to shine.  Kids have always been drawn to him, and as he has gotten older, he continues to use this gift.  When they became tired of just visting with him, he spontaneously organized some games with the older kids while Dick entertained many of the younger ones with his slight of hand.


The girls wanted their turns trying to push each other out of the circle.

And Dick managed to find someone evenly matched in strength to go up against.






Finally the teacher arrived, after traveling in a chicken bus and then walking down the long lane from the road to the house in the pouring rain.  This is dedication!  


Fernando did all the discussion and planning with the teacher for a party to be held the following Saturday.  He really impressed both Dick and me with his "professionalism" and competence doing this.  He is no longer the little boy I first met when we traveled to Huehuetenango many years ago.  He has grown into a young man who cares deeply about his people and has developed the skills to help them.

While this may be expected of a young man who is about to turn 17, it is more remarkable when you know a bit about his living situation.  His mother left for the US when he was three years old, leaving him with family members.  Last year, Fernando lived with us in Antigua, but found it difficult to adjust to the differences between here and his home in Chimaltenango, and struggled all year to keep up in school, passing Segundo Basico (eighth grade) by the skin of his teeth.  He decided to go back to school in Chimal this year, and, while living in his grandmother's house, basically is on his own.  His mother no longer sends him money, saying he is old enough to work now.  An aunt gives him food, but he receives little else in terms of love, affection or supervision, except from Dick.  Both Dick and I had great concerns that he would flunk out this year left on his own.

I have never been so happy to be wrong!  He passed all his classes first quarter, and only has one nearly failing grade this quarter, which he is determined to improve.  He is getting his work done on time, and is often at Dick's house just to visit.  He doesn't get into Antigua much, but when he does it is a joy to visit with him. Nothing makes us prouder than watching him work with the families in Tecpan, or translate in the villages for Dick.  He has become a fine young man, who frequently is moved to pray with those he is talking with as they freely share their problems and concerns with him.

Please keep Fernando in your prayers.  Rumor has it that his mom is encouraging him to come to the US in a way that is less than legal.  He says he's going to finish school first, but, we all know a ninth grade education doesn't get you very far in the US, and I'm sure he would be immediately put to work if he got there.  I know we can't control his decisions, but he has so much potential, and would actually have more opportunities here than he would living with a mother he hasn't seen in 14 years.  I trust God wants the best for him, and I pray he listens for His voice.

To find out how the rest of our guys (yep, sorry Dick, they're no longer just yours!) are doing, you can click here to read Dick's journal about their current activities. Yep, he even wrote it himself!

April in Omaha

Twice each year I return to the US to renew my visa.  It works out great that I have to do this every six months, and my grandsons' birthdays are just about six months apart.  Good planning, Jeremy and Lin!

So in mid-April I once again headed back to Omaha for a few weeks.  This time was special because I was going to spend five days with my grandsons while their parents went to Lin's brother's wedding in Florida.  This was the longest Lin had ever been away from the boys, and the farthest she had traveled from them since Zach was born eight years ago.  I am honored that she and Jeremy would entrust them to me.

I have to admit, though, that I was pretty tired out at the end of the time the boys "grandma-sat."  I know why God gives us our children when we are young enough to keep up with them.  The boys were great, just very active.  So glad God has called me to live with young men rather than children (I think!).

The best way to share this time with you all is through pictures.  Enjoy. . .


Click on the picture above to see the slide show.



Update on José


In February, we were "pushy" Americans, and fought with José' family to get them to bring him in to see the doctor at Hermano Pedro for possible admission into the malnutrition project.

He was admitted, and at the time I wrote about him in March, I was still not completely comfortable that we had done the right thing.  (Click here for that entry)

The other day Dick sent me this recent picture.  He's not there yet, but I love the "fat pads" in his cheeks.



More importantly, he's actually starting to make eye contact.  With more time and attention it is our hope and prayer that he "comes to life" even more.

We would not have had the opportunity to speak into this little guys life, had it not been for the social workers in Santa Rosa, and for a generous family who has been sponsoring him with nutritional support for over the past year.  This has truly been a team effort, and I'm so pleased to share his progress with you all.

Please pray for his future.  This is one case where it's hard for me to want him to return to his family. Trusting God has his best in mind for this little guy.

Using All Our Senses


A number of years ago, Girven MacCorkel, a good friend of New Life School, wanted to do something special for our students. Knowing that students with learning problems and physical disabilities have a variety of sensory issues, he decide to donate a multi-sensory room to the school.

After shipping the equipment from Europe, and a couple of years of construction to modify a third floor classroom, we now have a fully functioning sensory room for our students.  Probably one if the few, if not the only, such room in all of Guatemala.

In February, Girvan visited us for a day and introduced the teachers briefly to he features of the room. The teachers were so excited that hey quickly began thinking of ways to utilize the room and its equipment.


Working with the teachers, we then identified students they thought would benefit from using the room, and created a schedule. Children use the sensory room accompanied by their classroom teacher. (Classrooms are covered during this time by a "permanent substitute" teacher.)


I wish I had videoed the students as they entered the room for the first time. "Oooooh's" and and "ahhh's" and "guau's" ( how we say/spell wow in Spanish) filled the air. The bright reds, yellows, and oranges which greeted them were a surprise, given the traditional muted colors with which classrooms here are painted. The kids entered with almost a sense of reverence, and this was before any of the equipment was turned on!


The first week, I demonstrated the use of the various items available, and we observed each students reactions and preferences as they experienced each item. The responses to visual stimulation vary greatly from person to person, as do the sensory needs of each person.  The teachers and I have been working together to discover the best use of the room for each of our children.  I am discovering, as I research this more, that using sensory stimulation is more of an art than a science.

We are committed, though, to use this wonderful gift in the most effective manner possible.  The children are our teachers in this endeavor.  And I have to admit, I think the adults are enjoying this as much as the kids!

Thank you, Girvan, for this wonderful gift!  



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Culture shock "in reverse"


Heading back to Omaha from Guatemala, I got to spend a lot of time in the Houston airport. My three hour layover turned to about six, as we waited first for our plane to arrive, then for the flight crew. Weather had really messed up the air traffic this day.

It gave me a lot of time to observe and think about the culture that formed me, and the culture in which I now live.


I watched the travelers (most of whom were North Americans--as opposed to Central Americans) go from annoyed to frustrated to downright angry as the delays grew. I listened to them complain to friends and spouses on the phone. I watched as they berated the helpless folks who work at the airport. And chuckled as I realized that not one bit of this made the plane or the crew arrive one second earlier.

I realized, too, how easily I accepted the waiting. Sure, I felt badly that the delay meant that my son would be driving from the south side of Omaha to the north side, to the westside, and back south again when he should be home sleeping. It bothered me that my friend Gail would be inconvenienced by having to wait up to let me in. But there was nothing I could do about it, so why waste energy getting upset when nothing would change?

And, for just a little bit, I felt more Guatemalan than American.




Don't get me wrong. . .
I still can think American with the best of the culture.






Just this morning, as I was on a shuttle that waited fifteen minutes for someone to decide to come down from their hotel room (the shuttle company told us to be ready at our door fifteen minutes before the were to pick us up) I was inwardly fuming at how inconsiderate this person was and wishing that the driver would just leave them. I was increasingly agitated as we then made stop after stop picking up more passengers. And I was continually being reminded by God that He had this all under control and to just go with the flow. It took a conscious effort and much prayer, but I managed to arrive at the airport, unstressed, and with plenty of time to make my flight.

And I guess that's my point. We choose to be annoyed. We choose to take offense. We chose to try to make things happen, even when those things are clearly out of our control, and we choose to make ourselves miserable in the process.




While I can't say I enjoyed the delay, I was grateful for the free internet, and spent time people watching and reading. Wasn't my plan, but it wasn't that bad.



What bothered me more than the wait, however, was wandering around looking at how expensive everything was at the airport. Somehow an $8 hamburger from a fast food restaurant made me lose my appetite.

And, though a dear friend offered to treat me to a $3 Snickers bar after I complained about the price on Facebook, I just couldn't bring myself to buy one. Not just because I'm cheap, but because I couldn't help but think how long the average Guatemalan would have to work to earn that much. That's just about what many workers earn in one day.

A whole family would need to pick coffee for an entire day to buy one $5 cup of Starbucks coffee.  (Having watched Guatemalans pick coffee for twelve hours a day has ruined any romantic images of  "Juan Valdez" that might have lingered from the old Folgers Coffee Commercials.  Mountain grown means people need to pick
                                                    it--on the side of a mountain.
                                                    No easy feat.)

This didn't make me feel guilty, or even resentful at the Americans who spend their money so freely while being so jealous of their time. It made me sad.

I can see how my attitudes have changed in the almost four years I've been in Guatemala. How I have a better handle on what I can control and what I can't.

I can't change the delay. I can't change the prices they charge for food at the airport. But I can choose not to participate in this small injustice but refusing to buy things that are so over-priced.

Do I think those who choose to purchase those things are wrong? No. But I fear they are unaware. Unaware of how most of the world lives. Unaware of how much they have. Unaware of their responsibility to the rest of the world.

And that makes me sad.

As I write this, the Serenity Prayer comes to mind:


Can I change the disparity between the life styles of the averageAmerican and the average Guatemalan? Of course not. Nor would I want the average Guatemalan to develop the typical North American value system or life style.

For, if the truth be told, I think as a whole, the Guatemalans with whom I live are more thankful for the little they have than most Americans are for their riches. They are more in touch with the reality that all they have is a gift from God. Those who have little are more compassionate toward and generous to those who have even less.

Without romanticizing just how difficult life is for my Guatemalan friends, I have to acknowledge how I respect the joy I see, as well as their determination to continue eeking out the best lives they can for their families.

No, I don't think I want to change the Guatemalans. If the truth be told, I think I'd like to see the Guatemalans change the North Americans, as the Guatemalans continue to change me and teach me how to live with the gratitude that leads to surrender, and the surrendered that leads to even greater gratitude.

I'm hoping, though, that by sharing this, I maybe can change a little bit of the unawareness of how most of the world lives on the part of my fellow Americans. And, as a result of this increased awareness, move them not just to compassion but action.

What would God have you do, given your riches, to share His blessings with those who have less?







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