It's Friday, let's grab a coffee!

Since we can't sit face to face, and cafesito hour is nearly upon us, let's just pull up a chair and talk over a cup of Costa Rican coffee, virtual style.




If we were having coffee I'd tell you how the simple act of having just hung Brody's freshly washed curtains has me dripping sweat. Who needs working out when you live in the tropics? ;)

If we were having coffee I'd have to tell you about the fact that after I'd taken down Brody's curtains I went back into his room to find two demolished, minuscule eggs that must have fallen from said curtains. Gecko eggs in fact. How do I know? Well I'd then have to tell you about the poor little gecko fetuses we found on the tile floor, and about how that turned into a pretty cool biology lesson for the kids.

If we were having coffee I'd tell you how thankful I am for the breeze blowing on me as I type this blogpost. There's something incredibly amazing and refreshing about home styles here. It feels as though we live outdoors even while inside.

I would also spend some time telling you about the book us staff ladies just started reading for book club. It's called "Dancing With My Father: How God Leads Us into a Life of Grace and Joy." Don't you just love it when a book meets you exactly where you're at?

Oh, and speaking of books, I'd also have to mention that one of my very favorite scents is that of books. I could never go completely virtual with my library because I'd miss that smell too much. The best smelling book as of late? A VERY old copy of "Little House in the Big Woods" that we read as a family.

As I near my final sip I'd spend some time working through the emotions of having recently celebrated one of the most exhausting and gratifying Easters ever. I'd tell you a part of the "best ever" is the image of Ashlyn painting her orphan-friend's toenails, and how it brings up, over and over, in my mind's eye, a picture of love and service that I'll never forget.

Finally, I'd tell you how thankful I am for this time in Costa Rica - for the good, the bad, and even the ugly. It is all so much a part of who I am now. I can't imagine not having been here, right now, for a time such as this. I often wonder how I'll look back on this time and how I could possibly begin to qualify and quantify just how it's changed me, grown me, stretched me, and increased my view of our amazing God.

Coffee and thankfulness. They go together well!

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These Are the Days

This morning started out normally enough: early to rise, breakfast of homemade banana bread, the juiciest of pineapples, and yogurt (keep this menu in mind as I proceed). The kids had just finished clearing their morning dishes from the table, and Brody and Ashlyn had headed out to lounge in the hammock in the backyard till school started. I was at the sink washing dishes, which so happens to be a chore I don't mind one bit.
As I watched the two littles perform their normal kid antics, I heard Ashlyn's voice, full of shock, yell, "What's Lucy doing?" I looked up and out the window above the sink to see Lucy squatting to accomplish her morning duty in the backyard. What I failed to miss at first glance was what Ashlyn's sharp little eyes had spied. "Oh mom," she screamed, "I'm going to throw up!"
I emptied my hands and leaned forward in an attempt to get a better look at what was so horrifying about Lucy's very normal activity. It was then that I glimpsed it, the very non-typical neon green string, that was very much NOT a normal part of this normal dog activity. Within moments, Lucy seemed to finish up, and quickly began to jaunt away from the scene of the crime. As she did so, something stretched from her backside toward the ground. As her distance from the scene increased, so did the tension in the neon green string. Now taut, something attached to this green string jumped from the ground and slapped the unsuspecting Lucy on the haunches.
Commence the dry heaves and wretches that so often proceed an all out vomit fest...from both Brody and Ashlyn. As Lucy ran, helter skelter, to escape whatever was pursuing her and slapping her as she ran, Brody and Ashlyn came rushing toward the back door threatening to evacuate their stomachs. Ashlyn made it further than Brody, who ended up losing his just-eaten breakfast on the threshold of the back door. I heard Ashlyn make it around the corner into the hallway and it was there that I heard the tell tale splatters on the tile floor.
As I rushed to assist Brody at the back door, Lucy met me as she continued her attempted escape from the neon green assailant. And then the horror, oh the horror! The duet that met me on the threshold was the thing nightmares are made of. Brody, still in the midst of projectile vomiting, with Lucy standing beside him, soiled, neon green sticky frog glued to her side, string still trailing from somewhere deep inside.








It is worth mentioning that for the last few weeks I have had Proverbs 31:25 up on my fridge, as a constant reminder to myself, "She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come" (NIV).
Touché, Lord, for in that very moment I began laughing like never before. I was laughing so hard that big ol' tears streamed down my face. Meanwhile the retching and vomiting continued in surround sound, Brody before me and Ashlyn behind. All the while Lucy tried to make a mad dash into the house to hide under the kitchen table.
I did all I knew to do in that moment. I shut the back doors. I shut the doors. And I laughed. Oh, did I ever laugh. The situation was unbelievable. Truly, truly, truly unfathomable. Oh if only I could have kept that door shut and not faced the reality of what awaited me on the other side: the clean up and the extrication of the stretchy green frog from the backside of our dog.
My one-day-a-week house helper snapped me from my reverie of insanity, having come running in alarm at what must have sounded like nothing short of pure pandemonium. I retold the story the best I could through giggles, snorts, and dripping eyes. You should have seen Liliana's face. I saw shock, horror, alarm, hilarity, disgust, and a whole other gamut of emotions pass over her face as I spoke Spanish words I've yet to use together, recto (rectum), jugette elastico (elastic toy), pegado (stuck), and vomitando (vomiting). Sweet lady she is, she half-whispered that she would help. "No," I told her, "no, this is my job."
I'll save you the details of untangling the stretchy poo-covered frog from Lucy's long fur. I'll also save you the details of the extraction of the string from her innards (suffice it to say that stretching, poo, and being slapped in the hand, rubber-band fashion, were involved). I'll save you the details of the vomit clean up. I'll save you the details of the smell. Lawdy, the smell!
Horrific as it all was, this is one story to remember. Epic in proportion., outlandish in details, and like no other story I've ever heard. Indeed, "these are the days I'll remember" (cue the 10,000 Maniacs song)!
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Monday Funday

You know you're getting used to Costa Rican earthquakes when you hear things going bump in the night and assume it's the cat/giant rat (you choose, since it's still unknown and my sanity hinges on it being a cat) in the kitchen.



(Did I tell you about the apple pie remnants and bread crumbs that were discovered with accompanying giant holes in the food stuffs' protective wrapping? Oh and how about the guard dog, aka Lucy the Shih Tzu *cough, cough* who slept through two nights of invasion by whatever LARGE animal made those holes?)

Anyway...
But wait, the kitchen window had been closed, so the darn menace must now be bouncing off the window pane instead of sleuthing through the unscreened window.

You sleepily urge your now-roused husband to use his bedside piece of bamboo to go do his manly duty, which of course has to do with defending the home-front with said bamboo. You hear the unlocking and unfastening of every lock and slide on your well-barricaded back door, and then silence...

Brave husband returns, having found nothing, and chalking it up to "the big one that got away". Husband snuggles back into bed, only to hear a similar ruckus, this time with something falling into the kitchen sink.

Repeat process, including the bajillion unlocking and unfastenings, and again hubby comes up empty handed.

The next morning you receive the following email from your husband and feel a bit like your children may be in harm's way:
"By the way that was an earthquake last night at 2:30pm...not a cat running
into the window like we thought. :-)"
I mean, other parents actually woke their sleeping child to evacuate their home. Zack heard as much in the office this morning. Us, we were busy defending the house from "invaders" while our home's foundation was being shaken. If that's not bad enough, further evidence from an 11-year-old confirms your doubtful suspicions regarding your children's well-being, "Oh yeah mom, I remember waking up and my bunk bed was swaying back and forth".

Heh, heh..as they say, all's well that ends well?

And I'll keep you posted on the nighttime kitchen sleuth. That should be another fun tale!

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I find myself sitting outside at Lighthouse Acadamy, a private Christian school in Guachipelin, where the kids, despite being homeschooled, have been welcomed into the after school clubs. In the field below me I can see Brody and Ashlyn giving their all in a game of baseball In the room down the hall to my right sits Garrett, in the chess club. Immediately before me is the basketball club, with balls dribbling and drills occurring at regular intervals.

And I just realized.

I just realized that I am the only Gringa sitting here. Around me, are only beautifully-locked heads of black and dark brown. Around me is skin much darker than mine. Around me I hear nothing but Spanish. And...I don't feel an iota uncomfortable!


I pray the same for Garrett, Brody, and Ashlyn. These kinds of setting can be intimidating, honestly. It is, however, in these very settings that we have the opportunity to experience the fact that His grace is enough. When we feel like the minority, when the Spanish becomes overwhelming, when we realize that we're "out of our element", it is His grace that whispers, "Trust me, you're right where I have you and there's no better place to be"!




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Oh, the Paradox!

Yep, i feel as though this sunset photo (taken from our backyard) sums up our life here in Costa Rica:

I give you "Beauty and Razor Wire",



And I wouldn't have it any other way!

The Stuff that Childhood is Made of

Rainy season dugout bamboo canoe races!

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A gift of the unusual type

Have we told you about our new neighbors?

Have we mentioned the way they've opened their arms to us though we are some of the very few non-family members on our block? Have we told you how Gabi and her husband walk with us as we exercise, patiently talking with us in their native tongues, truly giving us a glimpse into their hearts and lives? How about how Raul graciously weed-whacked our entire yard so that Zack didn't have to continue tediously chopping away at the edging with his machete?

Then today, a neighbor brought us a truly Tico gift we'd never received and may never receive again: Guaba.








































Want to know how it tastes? Come and visit and we'll treat you to a taste first-hand. Till then check out this link for some very interesting insight into this highly unusual fruit:
http://www.naturelandings.com/guaba.aspx

And till you taste the guaba in person, know that the only thing sweeter than the fruit, itself, is the feeling of being welcomed into the culture of our new home!

On Being Called to Motherhood

It's not always pretty, in fact often times it's not.
I'll never gain fame or fortune.
A lot of days I fall into bed exhausted.
The words "instant results" are not a part of my vocabulary.
There are still days I don't shower.
Fear and worry have been known to take up residence in my heart.
And yet, the blessings are numerous.
I'd choose to do it all over again.
Motherhood.



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It's the simple things

I'm so, very thankful for those moments when my life is focused to a pin point and I can see with clarity those things that are of true value. Today I had one such moment. It was simple. And was it ever beautiful!

Brody and Ashlyn were sharing a snack and conversation on the patio of our new-to-us house in Atenas. The sunlight had that filmy, dream-like quality in which is etched memories of childhood summers. And then Brody's still-boyish, yet too-close-to-manhood-for-this-momma, voice could be heard saying to Ashlyn,

"Mom should open a restaurant. Mmmmmmmm. This is why dad married a Wyoming Woman!"

And the "this" that garnered such praise? T'was nothing other than popcorn.



What a gift, this thing called motherhood. Oh to be so highly esteemed in my son's eyes! Thank you, Lord, for the simply beautiful!


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Sanitary?

Playing in the gutter: Sanitary?

That's questionable.

Playing in the gutter: Worth it?

Totally!

You can imagine that in a country where going shoe-less is believed to cause sickness, our kids caused quite a stir this afternoon!


The grass and concrete, above, are a dam the kids constructed (with neighbor kids as fellow technicians) to stop a water leak that has been in existence for at least 3 weeks. And yes, it's a clean water leak ! :)



And a random San Jose, Costa Rica fact:
In the above photo, between Garrett and Ashlyn, see that gaping hole without a grate? Those are drains to the sewer, which are lovingly dubbed "Gringo traps". Let's just say that these "traps" tend to catch Gringos (us) unaware from time to time. We've heard of people in falling chest deep!

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A Bigger World

The Boy and The Starfish

One day, an old man was walking along the beach in the early morning and noticed the tide had washed thousands of starfish up on the shore. Up ahead in the distance he spotted a boy who appeared to be gathering up the starfish, and one by one tossing them back into the ocean.
He approached the boy and asked him why he spent so much energy doing what seemed to be a waste of time.

The boy replied, "If these starfish are left out here like this they will bake in the sun, and by this afternoon they will all be dead."

The old man gazed out as far as he could see and responded, "But, there must be hundreds of miles of beach and thousands of starfish. You can't possibly rescue all of them. What difference is throwing a few back going to make anyway?"

The boy then held up the starfish he had in his hand and replied, "It's sure going to make a lot of difference to this one!"
- Author unknown



Behind the beauty and allure that is such a vibrant and wonderful part of Costa Rica lies something sinister that's worth thinking on:

Did you know that the sex trade is rampant here in Costa Rica, specifically in San Jose? Not only is it rampant, it's also legal. Take a drive to the Children's Museum here in the capital city of Costa Rica, and you find yourself in the direct vicinity of the red light district, complete with brothels advertising their trade (trust me, trying to explain to your kids why they have to close their eyes as they near the CHILDREN'S museum is not easy task, but I diverge).

Even more disturbing? Costa Rica is known as a tourist hot spot for sex with underage girls as well. Sick, right? Have I gotten your attention?

Those facts, in and among themselves, are enough to call me to action even thought they are just a scratching-of-the-surface regarding this issue.But then...then there was a book. Little did I know that being loaned to me, by a fellow missionary/language school student, was a stack of bound pages that would impact me in such a profound manner. To say that I will never be the same is an understatement!




(Image courtesy of Amazon.com)

While not a book written from a Christian perspective, this is a well-researched, personal account from a married, journalist couple who have travelled the world researching the various forms of oppression women suffer across the globe.

Now, before you think I've gone all "Women's Lib" on you, let me say this is nothing of the sort. The atrocities against women, many in developing countries, outlined in this book are staggering, compelling, and the sort of thing that has not only opened my eyes, but has also grabbed me by the shirt-collar and given me a firm shake.

I challenge you to join me in reading this book (I'm half-way though it currently). Be forewarned, this is not an easy read. You. will. be. horrified! And not only do I ask you to join me in reading it but, please, join me in asking God what he would have me (us) do, if anything.

Zack, the kids, and I are privileged to be here to serve the Lord with eMi, and we'll do so with our best, as unto Him. That said, I'm facing the possibility of having some time on my hands while the kids are in school and Zack is serving in the eMi office. Maybe the Lord has something in store for me in terms of this very subject? I know that there's more than chance involved with the timing of this book in my life.
Stay tuned!

I thought it'd be fun to share a blog post from a fellow friend, language school student and missionary from Montana. I thing this fairly sums up how many "simple things" can be not-so-simple here. Enjoy, and it may be a good idea to take note of his advice toward the end, you decide.

Scott take it away:

"I spent over an hour at the post office in Zapote, Costa Rica simply trying to get two care packages that were mailed. Here is a fine example of how things are done in Costa Rica. It went like this:

1. Walk to the post office with my friend Joe who is fluent in Spanish.
2. Show passport to the guard who stamped my papers that said I had a package waiting.
3. Wait in line #3 until it was my turn. Give the slip to the guy; show passport again; sit down and wait for line #1
4. Wait for 20 minutes for my name to be called, talked with a German who spoke broken English.
5. Name is called, go to line #1, sign two papers and write down my passport number.
6. The boxes were then opened and looked through. Food was found and a glorious bag of Starbucks French roast coffee (2.5 lbs)
7. This was not acceptable because of the new rule that food is not allowed in the country without special paperwork. They have been nabbing people for smuggling chocolate into the country lately, you know, because it is so dangerous.
8. Man tells us that we are to go to downtown San Jose and explain our situation and get a permission slip.
9. This isn't going to happen with us so Joe elegantly talks with the guys and tells them our story, not quite sobbing but it got the point across.
10. Guy at line #1 calls his boss over. Joe gives the same story. They fell bad and decide that the rules can slide this time. After all, we are not smuggling bombs into the country, only candy and coffee.
11. Our boxes are taken away and we fill out more paper work.
12. Go to the bank in the post office with a slip of paper we were given and by 7 cents for something.
13. Bring it back to line #1. Guy gives us more paper work for line #2.
14. Go to line #2 and pay 3 dollars.
15. Wait for my name to be called again for line #1.
16. Name is called. Go to line #1 and fill out more paper work and show passport.
17. Finally given our 2 boxes after 1 1/2 hours.

Now that is efficiency. So for all our friends in the States, think about this the next time you complain about waiting in line at the post office.

I have no idea why these packages got stopped and others did not but for future care packages, we were told that when filling out the customs slip, don't put specific foods. Just put something more vague. This whole process, however, was so worth the great care packages. Thank you so much."



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Location:At a Glance

In Which I Write About 'Being a Missionary'

I've got a hunch.



I may, just may, be one of the strangest missionaries out there.

We're a strange group anyway, us missionaries, right? I suppose you've gotta be some sort of crazy to up and move your family into the great unknown.

But crazy's good. Just ask Francis Chan, he says so. His book "Crazy Love" reads on pages 114 and 115, "Having faith often means doing what others see as crazy."

Crazy? I've got that one nailed!

Who else, as a MISSIONARY, pronounces just the right words in just the wrong way so as to unfailingly sound utterly profane? And this hasn't happened just once, my friends, but over and over and over again in the first trimester of language school. Who else, as a MISSIONARY cannot contain her giggles when she tries to pronounce lago Titicaca in fonetica class? And who else in that very same day, in the very next class, being a MISSIONARY and all, resorts to answering her teacher with el trabajador de caca upon not recalling the Spanish name for a sanitation worker? In my defense who would ever recall the title 'el empleado de servicious de la higiene publica'?

So my hunch? It's fair to say I may be right on the mark. I can do crazy. And I can do strange.

I only pray that God's cracking up right alongside my classmates and teachers because, really, this craziness is all for Him and His glory!




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A Good Ol' Dose of Keepin' it Real

A pre-field photo, for old-times' sake

Let me begin by asking you to bear with me. Please hear my heart behind the words that are to follow, and know that this post is simply intended to be a means for you to get a glimpse into the current reality of my life here in Costa Rica.

The literal meaning behind the two words Costa Rica (Rich Coast) conjours images of tropical lushness, extensive beaches, and luxurious foods that tantalize the palate. Lest I negate the truth, Costa Rica does offer those very facets. And while we have taken the occasional weekend (for R&R) that allows us to indulge in those facets, our daily life is not centered around them.

Being called to something beyond what I ever expected is, in and of itself, an incredible blessing. I can certainly relate to King David when he said in 1 Chronicles 29:14: "But who am I, and who are my people, that we could give anything to you?" Paradoxically, I find myself in the middle of what I'll call hard. Now, I know that hard does not equal wrong. I also know that hard does not equal bad. Hard does, however tempt me to throw in the towel and head "home". And I do know, as well, that hard is real; hard is not easy; and hard does bring stress.

In pre-field training we were given a stress inventory entitled "The Holmes and Rahe Stress Scale". On that scale, there are a number of events listed that have been identified as stressors. For each stressor the test-taker can list the number of times each event has been experienced in the past 12 months and multiply that number by the stress value assigned to the stressor. Once totaled, the sum of those stressors provides a number that assesses your current stress level. In training we were told that the average missionary falls between 600-900 points. Having just completed the assessment, I have found my stress level to be at 937. Severe stress is identified as having a point value of 300 or more. Hard, indeed!

I am not asking you to feel sorry for me. I am not asking you to understand. I am simply sharing the current reality of the life to which we've been called. Being in the middle of hard, is...well...hard. This endeavor is no vacation BUT it is good!

Ants in the Sugar Bowl
by Elizabeth Givens

"So send I you
To ants in the sugar bowl,
To things that fly, creep and crawl into the house,
To uncertain water, sporadic electricity.
To long hours, sweltering heat, exhausting days,
To uncomfortable vehicles, crowded jeeps, smelly buses.
To noisy, early mornings,
To rice, rice and more rice.
To poverty you didn't believe existed,
To masses of people like you have never seen,
To know and work with people who have never known comfort,
So send I you, and I expect you to adjust.

So send I you
To people who will give to you from their poverty,
To friends who will embarrass you with their generosity,
To pastors who will entertain you from their lack, with beauty,
To hungry, receptive, questioning people who want to know God,
To study, to teach, to learn from your study and teaching,
To prove your own motives, values and beliefs,
To learn about yourself and the culture that has reared you,
To know God and to understand more deeply dependence upon Him,
So send I you.

Are you going? I'll go with you all the way."

Yes, I find myself in the middle of hard. And hard is just where I'm supposed to be!

When It Rains, It Pours

When the day looks like this:



And this:



Then you can nearly bank on the fact that this is coming (Turn up your speaker volume so you can hear the rumbling thunder!):

An when that occurs and it's rainy season in Costa Rica, landslides abound!






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The View From Here

Serious multitasking is going on in this casa! Ever tried studying for a big Spanish grammar test while baking and frosting cupcakes?



Let's pray there's scientific evidence out there that proves that baking increases retention of Spanish. Sounds good in theory, right. *ahem*



For those inquiring minds, these cupcakes sound dynamite! Chocolate chip cookie dough cupcakes (yes, there's homemade cookie hidden dough hidden inside each cupcake), topped with cream cheese frosting. And they are awaiting the addition of a small chocolate chip cookie as a topper.

I used the following recipe and will let you know what popular opinion says after our "Sweet Meet and Greet" for our language schools' current students and teachers:
http://allrecipes.com/recipe/chocolate-chip-cookie-dough--cupcake--the-best-cupcake-ever/detail.aspx

Oh and I guess I'd better plan on letting you know of test results as well. A woman's got to have priorities! Pray for me.

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Hollywood or San Jose?

I owe the title of this post to my sister-in-law, Ellen. Sista' is workin' it, even in a developing country!



Loud colors? Check.
Fiery red nails? Check.
Cool shades? Check.
Brothers sighing at her diva-ness. Check, indeed!

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The View From Here

This could be any street, in any major city, in any country around the world but it's not. This street is our daily walk home from school, in the country to which God has called our family.


This path we're walking could be over any river, in any state, in any forest around the world but it's not. This path is the one we have chosen to walk, in the country to which God has called our family.


This flag could be the one we're most accustomed to, the one to which we pledged allegiance, daily, in our home country but it's not. This is the flag of the country to which we've been called, and it's the Costa Rican flag.


So much about our life right now is not what we are accustomed to or what we would call home. So much of it is new, uncomfortable, daunting, unexpected, rewarding, challenging, and perspective-altering all at once.

This is Costa Rica. And this is to where God has called. We welcome all He has for us!

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Full, full, and full

Life as of late has been very full. Full of...

Evidence of a very dirty new-to-us ironing board:


Remarkable before...


...and after photos:


Rainy day play:


First day of 5th grade:


First day of 3rd grade:


First day of 1st grade:


Followed by the first day of 2nd grade due to a promotion:


Fist day of language school for Dad and Mom:


New and exciting produce:


And a 10th birthday celebrated in Costa Rica.


Mostly though, our hearts are full: full of thanksgiving for this once in a lifetime opportunity!

Costa Rica, here we come

As we fly to San Jose, Costa Rica I wanted to take the time to update this neglected blog of mine one last time before touching down in our new culture. Isn't technology amazing...blogging from the air.

As soon as we have Internet up and running in our new home I plan full well to do a blog update that brings justice to my last few weeks' absence.

Know that all five of us are well and oh so excited to enter another period of transition. That and excited to finally have a place to lay our heads after a month long period of "homelessness"!

See ya on the flip-side!