You're a Good Good Father

When we arrived in Mexico in November 2016 we were greeted by Beaux, an eager new missionary who had been on bed rest for the last couple weeks and was excited to have new people to talk to. We, on the other hand, had just spent ~20 hours traveling, had been shown our rooms in a pueblo that's older than the US (which is awesome), were told all the rules, and then were ushered to a late night PB&J dinner. We were like deer in headlights with all the new info and sights and were less than equipped to handle Beaux's enthusiasm at that hour. Beaux told us a number of stories but the one that really stood out was how just before leaving for Mexico from Intake 2016 (the 3 month training in Louisiana that we're about to go to), he walked around the rental van and was bitten by a baby copperhead TWICE. And you know what he did?

This crazy man yelled, "Praise God!" TWICE in reaction to it!

I made up my mind in that moment that I wanted to avoid Beaux for the rest of the trip and probably never talk to him again after. And now I can hardly type that sentence without it cracking me up! We all had a good laugh about it in Haiti... Beaux and Alix Davis are our friends in Haiti who we just had the joy of visiting on a mission trip. Thankfully, we were put on their team while in Mexico and we were able to spend much more time around Beaux (and Alix and their sweet kiddos) after the shock of the first night passed. We now know that he's definitely crazy but only in the best way possible- crazy for Christ.

I've thought a lot about that night as my own faith has been challenged this past year. Could I ever get the point of praising God (and honestly mean it) after being bitten by a snake? 

Last week Jeremiah and some neighborhood kids were over running around as we worked to clean out rooms. The house was a mess and the game of tag was less than ideal right then. Jeremiah's leg met the sharp end of a piece of metal sticking out of a chair (which we had no idea was there). I definitely did not yell, "Praise God!" I yelled, "Everyone out of my house now!" LOL Jeremiah is incredibly strong and didn't cry a single tear except for one during the Novocaine shot. On the way to the doctors office we prayed for a quick wait time and for a good doctor. We had years ago not liked the doctor there and rarely ever went there because of it.

Praise God.

The doctor asked questions about how he got the cut and we explained the mess from moving and that lead to questions about where we're going. The doctor replied, "Oh well I was raised by Jesuit priests! I grew up at a boarding school." 

I can't make this stuff up. Only a Good Good Father can.

The doctor had traveled to all the locations we might end up at and told us his highlights about each of them. Then he had Kent hold Jeremiah's leg and showed Kent how to do stitches and how to remove them "in case we end up on a mountain top in Peru and have to use a needle." I sure hope I don't! But Praise God that we now have more knowledge to handle it than we ever would have had this not happened!

God, help me to praise you in every storm for the good good Father that You are. You are a caring Father working all things for the good of those who love You. Help me to trust in your plans, even when I don't understand them. Amen.

Holy Mary, Point Us To Your Son

I guess this is Mary week! *my Catholic is showing* I wrote this a few weeks ago but it seems quite appropriate for today...

We stayed in Haiti a few extra days to have family rest time at a beach on the Northern part of the claw. As we drove out of Port-au-Prince, passing filth and poverty beyond our American imagination, I prayed my rosary and sobbed silently. Kent reached over to ask if I was scared from the crazy shuttle driving but I had long gotten used to their no-rules-go-kart-racing style of driving in Haiti.

I cried thinking of the children we said goodbye to in L'Asile. I cried for the children I saw out my window. I cried with joy thinking of the future children and adults we would get to serve in a foreign land soon enough.

After I finished praying I wiped my face and turned to the Haitian woman sitting behind us. "Ou Katolik (You Catholic)?", I asked in the best broken Haitian Creole that I had learned over the previous week there. The woman's face lit up as she replied, "Wi (Yes)!" I reached into my bag and pulled out a Miraculous Medal. The kids of L'Asile all loved the medals we gave out. They were enamored by them. How will this woman react?

I couldn't remember the full sentence I was supposed to say in Haitian Creole and she seemed very well off. She's not impoverished and doubtfully would be excited by a medal like the children were.

"Meday Manaman Mary pou ou (Mother Mary medal for you)..." She was so happy to receive it! She smiled and looked at me surprised. I turned back around and thanked God for the opportunity to "practice" being a missionary in a foreign land on our own even just a little bit. I was barely through thanking God when she tapped my shoulder, excited to show me her rosary that she had brought with her.

Face beaming with pride, she held up the rosary with our crucified Savior on it and I felt joy and accomplishment, much like I assume our Mother Mary does every time we come to her and she gets to point us to her Son.

No, the woman didn't join us in running through resort sprinklers at 5:30 the next morning to make it to our taptap (cab) in time for the only mass in the town. When we got to the resort she kind of just disappeared and I never saw her again. But that's okay. With my limited language I was still able to proclaim the Gospel to her- love. 

Similarly, Mary uses her love to constantly point us to her Son. There's nothing quite like the love of a mother for her child, right?

As Catholics we celebrate today as the Assumption of Mary into Heaven. The quickest explanation is that God Himself came to earth in a vessel- Mary. That vessel was kept pure and free from original sin (this goes back to Old Testament Traditions of the faith - Mary is the Ark of the New Covenant). So Mary was saved from decay of the body (result of Original Sin) and assumed into Heaven. We pray to Mary to help us by asking her Son. We pray for her intervention in the same sense that we ask our friends to pray for us.

Not that my single prayer asking God to help sell my home quick isn't important, but I'd prefer to have all my friends, family, and the God-chosen mother our Savior praying along with me! Wouldn't you?

Holy Mary, help those in need, give strength to the weak, comfort the sorrowful, pray for God's people.

Amen.

A Joyful Mystery: Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth

A Late Night Joyful Mystery

Last night Kent and I had a night out to see Cirque du Soleil, Kent's birthday present this year. Afterwards (and it was amazing btw) I asked if he would be up for late night adoration. So much stress from getting the house to the market and the anxiety of watching and waiting for the showings app to beep that someone wants to see our house- I had been working hard all week hoping to have the time to rest in His presence on Saturday. I prayed a Joyful rosary for our home, our family, our ever expanding to-do list, and for more mission partners.

Despite Kent and I supporting missionaries in the last year, it is very hard to wrap our heads around now asking others to support us. In a few weeks our paying jobs will end and life is about to change drastically.

I admit I currently have a bad Starbucks habit of a minimum of twice per week, go overboard on Amazon Prime occasionally, and pretty much do/buy what I want anytime. Same for Kent. We have been given so much. And we give back to others, but it's no comparison to the call we've accepted to sell our lives and live as and with the poor. All of the above is not to say that we are not up to the challenge. We are. We signed on knowingly and joyfully to what God is asking of us. It's simply a recognition of how hard this will be. To live in community eating most meals together based on their menu, to have limited free time and definitely no Netflix bingeing, to limit personal internet to 2 hrs per week on Sunday, to not talk to my mom everyday, to not have a glass of wine at the end of the day, to live on a much smaller fixed income than I ever have in my life, and the list goes on... This list isn't all that different than one you could make before having your firstborn... or your seventh. Things change. Life is not stagnant.

So what does this have to do with the Joyful Mystery of the Visitation?

In all that we are going to give up, there are some things we hope to gain more of- support of family and friends being a big one. We don't want to do this alone. Where's the fun in that? We come from great, loving communities of family and friends and we want to take that out into the world with us.

Mary went to Elizabeth on a mission (#firstfamilymission) to help her in her last months of pregnancy, but Mary wanted something too- partnership- to know that she was not alone and had family and friends ready to join her.

How awesome that Elizabeth confirmed this the second Mary walked in the room!

Thank God He gave Mary Joseph and thank God He gave me Kent. But we need you too, just like Mary needed Elizabeth. Will you prayerfully consider joining our mission?