AND WE HAVE A HOUSE!

Well, I returned to Guatemala last Thursday and have hit the ground running.  While I was gone my friend Mari found a house about a block away from us which she thought would work for our group home .  She is friends with the lady who owns it, who unfortunately is going through an ugly divorce and needs to rent it to pay her own rent.  (Please pray for Sylvia and her 3 children;  her husband has gotten very violent and she is in constant fear for the safety of her youngest child (only one year old) who he has tried to kidnap twice.)

Kitchen with lots of cabinets

The dining room connects to the kitchen, with plenty of room for a big table and wheelchairs to get around.

I saw the house Saturday and it is more than perfect for what we need to get started.  The rent is significantly more than I am paying for my little house now, but it is under-priced by about $300 for anything comparable in Antigua, and many houses I've seen in the same price range have far less.  Sylvia knows this, and was asking more rent for it, but when she heard I was interested lowered the rent to only what she needed for her own family, because she wants to help out our ministry here.  This is an amazing blessing.  (Some of the houses I had looked at previously did not want us to use it for a group home, or did not want to rent to me because I was an evangelical missionary.)




Actually, saying the house is more than what we need is an understatement. When I thought about a house, I would sometimes think, "Oh, it would be great if the house we found had a ______________." Well, this house has everything I ever filled in the blank: a cistern, a hot water heater, adequate and accessible bathrooms, and four to five bedrooms all on one floor. It even has a bathtub (which wasn't on my list since I have only seen these in hotels in Guatemala!) and built in closets (which I have seldom seen here). This house being available to us is nothing short of a miracle, but I continue to ask your prayers as we move forward. We take possession of the house November 1.




A wall full of closets in each of the bedrooms, and a modern bathroom with a tub and hot water.  Incredible!






I had no intention when I returned from the States to move this rapidly, but had thought I would look for a house at a leisurely pace and wait for God to show me one which would serve.  Instead, within hours of arriving in Guatemala, He literally dropped a perfect house into my lap.  I don’t know why, but I still get surprised when God answers my prayers so perfectly.  Maybe I’m learning to pray “in His name and in His will.”

Please pray for us as we take the next steps to officially open Casa de Esperanza (Hope House). Pray for the residents God will bring to the house, and the staff He will provide.  This is moving so much faster than I had planned, and it's a little overwhelming to think about all the changes happening so fast.  I am a little short of breath from how fast He seems to have moved, but am excited to go along for the ride with Him.
We are one step further ahead on the journey,

Time with My Family

Folks often say they would like to know a bit about how my family is doing with me working so far away, so I thought I’d give a snapshot of my time with them in  Omaha the beginning of this month.

I arrived in Omaha just in time to get to take Zachary (now 6 yrs. old and in first grade) and Nathan to the Family Fest hosted by my home church.  My brother had flown in from Chicago for the weekend, so we really had a family reunion while we enjoyed the beautiful fall weather and the autumn atmosphere.



















If you know my kids, you know that Husker football is a huge part of the life for the Forster family in the fall.  All of us, except Jon who is still a Marine in California, could get together to watch the games.  I’m not too into watching football, but I loved watching my kids and grandkids watch the games.





(What the kids are doing now: Jeremy managing transportation and warehouses; Lin is a full-time mom for this season of her life; Mikayla is a personal banker for SAC Federal Credit Union; Jonathan, a sergeant in the Marine Corps; Joel works more hours than he should at Midwest Powder Coating in Omaha.)

On April 23rd Nathan turned three years old.  I love being with the boys for their birthdays. (The only safe way to have a lighted candle anywhere near Nate is to have it more than an arms length away from him!)



One weekend, Jeremy and Lin, my son and daughter-in-law, took off an left me to spend time alone with the kids.  It wasn’t as much fun for them as it sounds, since they only went to Kansas so Lin could have some dental work done by her uncle who practices there.




I loved the time I had alone with the boys, but have to admit I’m glad I’m out of the little kid stage.  I just don’t have the energy anymore.  I have to admit I did sleep well that weekend.





















It’s so much fun to get to be a part of their daily life for a time each year.  I have to admit I miss my kids and grandkids, but am so pleased to know they continue to be “family” on their own.  I am so proud of the adults my children have grown into.  I am even more proud of how Jeremy and Lin are raising the next generations of Forsters.  I’ve said it before, and I continue to believe it.  My kids are living testimony to the faithfulness of God to answer our prayers!

Personal Glimpses

 

I got to celebrate my birthday in style this year.  Mari had invited me over for breakfast, and I was surprised to be greeted by none other than a mariachi band!  Since this is a significant birthday here from what Mari said (yep, the big 60) she wanted to make it memorable, and she did.




Church was next on the agenda, and I had a great time teaching the lesson for Children’s Church.  With all the other things I am doing, I don’t get to spend as much time working with the Children’s Ministry at Iglesia del Camino, but I love the time I do get to be with the kids.

After church, Dick and 9 of his boys took me out for lunch.  The neatest thing happened on our way there.  As we were walking down the street, a lady from church who was passing by in her car called out the window, “What a neat family!”  And I realized that, though none of us are biologically or legally related, we are just that, a family.  While these guys will never replace my kids and grandkids, they sure do make living away from them easier. 

 This is Miguel praying the blessing before we ate.  I can’t tell you how it touches my heart when these teenage boys un-self-consciously come to our Father in prayer.

A first for me this year was getting to “preach” in a Guatemalan church.  This was nothing planned, at least not by us.  Dick and I had been visiting up at Lake Atitlan, and  we decided to stop by and see Jessica’s family on our way home.  (Jessica had been in the malnutrition project at Hermano Pedro for almost a year, and we’ve become very close to her family.)

When we arrived at their house a neighbor told us that the family was at church.  We were a little surprised by this, since it was late Saturday afternoon, but decided to go an join them for worship.  We walked into the small church this poor community had literally built with their own hands, and were immediately blessed by the beautiful simplicity of their worship.  No instruments, no speakers, no sound system, just loving hearts raised to honor our Father.

When the time of worship ended, Virginia, Jessica’s mom who had been leading the prayer time, went over and talked to another lady seated at the side.  They kept looking at me, and I thought maybe they would ask me to say a few words in greeting.

Imagine how surprised I was when Virginia came to me, saying that their pastor had not shown up this evening, and they believed God had sent me to speak to them.  Would I preach? 

I looked at Dick, and he reminded me he did not speak Spanish.  I reminded him that I had translated for him before, and together we managed to piece together something of a sermon.  Frankly, I don’t remember much of what was said, but have to trust that God was able to make something out of our poor ramblings.  If I ever had any “delusions” of wanting to be a pastor, I think this took care of it.  And I have a much better understanding of the directive:

But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. 
                                              (1Peter 3:15a)

Stepping Into the Darkness to See the Light

The lights went out just as I was going to step into the shower.  Here, where the water is heated by an electric shower head,  that means no hot water, as well as total darkness in my windowless bathroom.  So I went to heat up my left-over coffee. . .oops, no microwave.  So I’ll iron my slacks to wear to church—no that won’t work. Well, I’ll check up on my email and facebook. . .ugh! no modem!  And I sit here realizing just how good I have it, even though I call myself a missionary.

While I was in the States the past few weeks, I was annoyed and pained by how those living in the US take for granted, as entitlements, things which the “majority world” lives without.  I also saw how easily I “reacculturate” (is that a word?) to living in the affluence of North America.  I’m not talking about backyard swimming pools or country club memberships, but ordinary things.  Electricity, clean water (every time I went to take a drink directly from the water faucet, I paused to think—and I know, more and more Americans are drinking only bottled water, but to be able to drink tap water without bacteria and parasites was a pleasure), water heaters, level sidewalks, convenience foods, possessions beyond what we would ever really need.  Even being able to “flush” the toilet paper rather than throw it in the trash.  Oh, what Americans take for granted.  What I started to take for granted in the short time I was in the States. . .

Today I realize just how well I live here, when people, even those down the street, live without running water and/or electricity. I have a roof that doesn’t leak, three rooms plus and indoor bathroom for only one person, a bed with an inner-spring mattress, a refrigerator, more clothes than I can wear in a month, and never have I gone to bed hungry, or wondering where my next meal would come from.   How I take for granted what God has blessed me with, even in a “Third World country.”  And I stand convicted. . .

There’s a question circulating on facebook that gives me reason to pause now and then. . .

If the only things you had today were the things you thanked God for yesterday, what would you still have?

I’m afraid, for me, that would not be very much. . .

Father, forgive my ungrateful heart.  Forgive my sense of entitlement.  Open my eyes to the gifts around me in each moment of every day. . .and may I thank you for them as I receive them.

An Open Letter to Those Considering a Mission Trip

As I've been in the States this month, I've had a number of conversations with good friends who, while they respect my work with those with disabilities, have shared that it's not for them.  They often say they'd love to come on a mission trip to work with me, but cannot bring themselves to spend a full week at Hermano Pedro.  "It's not their gifting." "I would cry the whole time."  "I'm just not comfortable around the handicapped."

And it's gotten me thinking.  Are short term mission trips about being comfortable?  Are they about using the gifts we are certain we possess?  Should we expect to feel good about what we are doing?

Isn't the precise way God works most deeply in our lives by taking us outside of our comfort zone?  Doing things in and through us which we know we cannot do ourselves?  Breaking our hearts for what breaks the heart of our Father?  Why should a short-term mission trip be any different?

Don't think that I believe everyone must spend a week in a orphanage with severely disabled children.  I don't believe God calls everyone to that.  But I do believe He calls us to step outside of ourselves and risk doing things we have never done before.  Maybe to serve in areas outside our gifting, knowing we must depend on Him for our strength.  To learn what God can do in and through us when we ourselves have nothing to offer him but our willingness to obey.

What I guess I want to challenge is the idea that a short term mission trip is about us.  About doing what we are good at.  About showing God how much we can do for him.

Please know I learned this through experience.  For years I went to Nicaragua with a team from my home church to lead the Children's Church.  It was right up my alley. I knew how to do it.  I was even pretty confident that I was good at it.

One year, as I was preparing activities and materials for the next trip, I felt God was telling my heart to prepare in such a way that someone else could lead the children's program.  I can't explain it, but I had a strong conviction that I would not be doing what I thought I planned to do.  So I prepared, and I went, and we started Children's Church as usual.  So what was all that about?  Had I really heard God in this?

Early on the morning of the second day in the village, the team captain came to me and said he had a request.  One of the women working in the kitchen had hurt her ankle.  Would I consider moving to work in the kitchen this trip?

Somewhat disappointed at leaving that which was comfortable to me, I agreed.  Of all the jobs on the trip, the kitchen was the one I found least appealing.  But for the next five days I began helping prepare food before most were even out of their beds.  I worked with a good friend, and that brought some pleasure to the process, but the work in the kitchen was tedious at best. I cut fruit and vegetables, washed pots and pans, set up serving lines and did a variety of other  menial tasks necessary to feed the roughly 60 people on our team.  I seldom got out of the kitchen, rarely seeing the people who were coming to the services and clinics.  I, one of the few team members who spoke Spanish, spent my days for the most part with my English speaking team members.

Did I enjoy this trip?  Honestly, not so much.  Did I grow on this trip?  More than I had on any other.

I learned that I had nothing to give God that He really needed.  He could do all this without me.  It was His grace that let me be part of serving his people.   What He needed to teach me this trip, I could not have learned in Children's Church.  I need to learn to obey.  To go where there is a need, even if I don't feel equipped to meet the need (what did I know about feeding 60 people?) and even if I didn't really like what I would have to do to meet the need (does anyone like cutting up watermelon for hours at a time?).

And what did I "get" out of this trip?  I had my first extended experience in a typical home in Latin America, seeing first hand how some of the poorest of the poor lived (our kitchen was in the "kitchen" of one of the homes in the community).  I learned that even the simplest task becomes holy when done for the glory of God.  I learned to rejoice with my teammates at their stories of how God had used them that day.  I learned that it wasn't about me. . .

God knew (of course) exactly what I needed this trip.  I had previously "flirted" with going into mission work in Latin America full time.  During my hours in the kitchen, I had many long conversations with him about what it meant to serve in missions.  I learned that little of this service is glamorous or exciting; most of serving in missions is the tedious work of everyday life.  Realizing this, however, I returned home with the firm knowledge that He was inviting me to join His work in Latin America.

It was in doing the very things that I found unpleasant that confirmed my desire to follow Him wherever He might lead me.  I learned the blessing of obedience when to obey was to do something I didn't want to be doing.  I learned to trust Him, that if I obey, He would be there.  What more could I want?

Would I be in Guatemala if it weren't for the time I spent cooking in Nicaragua.  Probably so, for I don't think God is so easily thwarted.  I am grateful, though, for the lessons I learned in that hot, stuffy kitchen which have served me well as I try to honor Him in my daily life.  I know now that surrendering my wants, doing things I don't like, and being uncomfortable are the very pathways He uses to bring me to the "desires of my heart."

So what's my point?  I guess I'm just saying that if you're thinking about participating in a short-term mission trip, please don't decide based on your own feelings and desires.  Don't go to do something you enjoy or you're good at.  Go where there is an unmet need.

In considering at trip, the only question you need to ask is, "Father, do you want me to go?" Trust Him that if He says, "Go," He will have his best waiting for you.  Be willing and available to step out of yourself and meet Him in uncharted territory.  I can promise, He'll knock your socks off!