Sharing the Mountains

Sir Edmund Hillary is credited with being the first person to summit Mount Everest.  He said, “Human life is far more important than just getting to the top of a mountain.”

Well-spoken.

So…we went to the top of the mountain with friends, and we happened to run into more friends when we got there, so we shared the mountains together.

This also led to a friendly game of paintball.  The dads and the kids played, and Keira and I peered through the chain-link fence.

Kylie, Karis, and Caleb suited up.  

Quite the battlefield.

 

All good things must come to an end. 

So after roasting marshmallows, playing late-night games, making funny videos, rolling down snow-covered hills, and eating a lot of junk food, it was time to head down the mountain.

At least I think that's where we are heading???

Is there civilization down below?

Oh my goodness, yes!
All of these people were waiting in line to come up on the teleferic on their day off (Friday).

No time to leave like the present.

Plus, it happened to be my birthday.

My family surprised me by meeting up with some friends at the same restaurant where we had Thanksgiving and ordering milkshakes.

I think Keira liked the look of hers.

My friend told the chef I liked cheesecake, and he made this presentation for me.

 Yes, we all love the mountains, and sometimes coming back down is hard.

But...

“There are far better things ahead than the ones we leave behind.” – C.S. Lewis

And this is why we come down. 

There is more work to be done.

Onward and Upward.

Spiritually, mountaintops are a great place to see the might and glory of God and feel His presence, but as we all know...it's in the valleys where we stretch and grow and begin to look more like Him.

“Everybody wants to reach the peak, but there is no growth on the top of a mountain. It is in the valley that we slog through the lush grass and rich soil, learning and becoming what enables us to summit life’s next peak.” -Andy Andrews

January 3, 2019

Running on the Roof

May was semi-pleasant, and I was able to run outside in the mornings without feeling like I was going to faint from the heat.

The trick for me was I didn't want to taxi to the park in the morning (this was before we got a car), and running in my neighborhood is not an acceptable thing.  A running track is the only acceptable place to run here, and the travel back and forth would just add to my time.

So, I decided that the roof would be "acceptable."  I ran in a crazy 8 pattern around our swamp coolers.  There's not a lot of space to pick up speed, but I was just jogging slow, so it was fine for me.

When Doug put the canvas up and tied it to the swamp cooler, it took one of the "arms" of my crazy 8 away, but I still managed.

I got a view of the neighborhood in the morning, watched my neighbors go stand in line for their morning bread, and was blessed to pray over this nation.

However, every now and then, I would get a whiff of the chicken/turkey/duck/pigeon mess below.
Wow!  That will wake you up faster than a cup of coffee.

One morning, I saw some workers cleaning it up.  That is bread that you see there.  Leftover, not eaten naan and samoon bread.  It is over a foot thick as they shovel it up.

Whew!  Fresh start!

Everybody has different things on their roofs.  It's just an extension of their house.

Well, Ramadan started, and the late nights stopped my early morning runs.  When we crawled out of Ramadan, the temperatures were climbing quickly.  We had a heat wave where a few days hit 120. 

We're back down to 110-117, but I think I'll wait to start running until I feel a breeze again.

I will say that my running made for some very curious neighbors.  A few asked me about it on the street, and honestly, I don't think any of them have ever considered exercise before, so maybe they'll think about some of this stuff for themselves.

Surgeon General warning:  Don't run in August in the Middle East.

Taking a Chance

Usually dentistry is not something you would want to take a chance with.

However, if you've ever had a pain in your mouth, there is not much else you can think about, and you just want something done NOW.

A few nights ago, I was brushing my teeth, and out of the blue, when the bristles hit a certain area of my mouth, I cringed, got weak in the knees and my eyes started watering.

All I could think was that somehow I had gotten a cavity, and I needed to get it fixed soon.

Two days later, we were driving near the ballet studio, and I saw a dentist's office.  I asked Doug to pull over and let me run in and check it out.

It seemed legit.  Clean.  The receptionist spoke some English.  She told me the dentist had trained in Austria.  She was wearing braces he had put on her.  And it was clean.  Did I mention that?

That's a big deal!  I can't even describe the clinic I went to in Uganda to get my first pregnancy check-up.

Anyway, I asked if I could make an appointment.  And she said I could come back at 6:45 that night.

I had guests coming for dinner at 8, but I finished cooking as much as I could before I left, and Kylie finished the rest.  I took Karis with me so the doctor could see her and do a consultation on whether he could fix her slight issue with braces.

I arrived back at his office, and the night time receptionist does NOT speak English.  I pointed to my name in her appointment book, and she took us right in.

The doctor had a recent dental graduate assisting him, and both were very kind.

He looked at Karis first and made a plan.  He told me the plan and said we could come back in two days after thinking about it.

My turn.

I cringed as he blew air on my teeth to try and find the weak spot.

When he found it, he put a tiny camera in my mouth and put the image up on the screen for me to see.

(This picture was taken two days after my appointment, when I took Karis back to get impressions made.  This is a new dental assistant on the left.  The first one was a female.) 

But you can still see the screen.

 It turns out that I didn't have a cavity but an exposed root.

He polished my teeth before he put the protective sealant on, but the funny part was the polishing.

On this particular day, his water sprayer wasn't working well.  It flew all over me, all over him, all over the wall, and dripped all over the floor. 

So after two tries, he asked me to walk across the hall to another room, and he and she went back and forth carrying all the sanitized tools they had already opened and put on the tray.

The next chair worked fine, but it was cold in the room.

Polishing that I'm familiar with looks something like this.

The dentist puts some polish on the polisher and then starts it spinning.

Not here.

He took a metal knife and scraped it on the front side of all of my teeth on the top.  He would then start polishing.  He later repeated for the inside and then the bottom, inside and out. 

So my mouth was filled with the polishing stuff while he went to work on one tooth.

The funny part was that the proportion of water being sprayed into my mouth and the amount of water being sucked out of my mouth was considerably off.

My mouth got so full of water, that it started running over the left side of my lip, down my neck, into my shirt, and down my back.

I thought I was in the clear until he switched sides.  Then the water started running over the right side of my lip, down my neck, into my shirt, and down my back.

When I had gotten pretty good and soaked, the assistant must have noticed, and stuck a wad of kleenexes right below my chin to try to catch some of the liquid.  However, when the doctor moved again, she didn't think about moving the kleenexes to the other side.

Oh well.  I was laughing on the inside, so it was entertaining (and cold) to me.

Because Karis liked him and felt good about him, we're taking an even bigger chance on her, because we decided to go to him for her braces.

His English is just okay, but what I gathered from him is that he knows exactly how to fix her teeth.

That picture above was taken two days ago when he made the impressions of her teeth.

Today, Doug and Karis went to get x-rays of her mouth.  The dentist doesn't have this capability in his office, so he told Doug where to go in town to get that done.  We will take the x-rays back after the holidays.

Speaking of holidays, tomorrow is Newroz, and it's been raining off and on here for a few days. 

I may not have any big picnic stories for you after all, but we'll see.

Tonight, we're going to "take a chance" with the crowds and taxi to a large park where a ceremonial lighting of fires is supposed to take place to mark the beginning of the holiday.

Happy first day of Spring!

A look back...

I was listening to a wrap-up session of Beth Moore’s “Esther” Bible study last spring, and my mind started wondering. I heard her say something about “looking back to see how it all fit,” and I started thinking about my own life.



Each person’s past is preparation for what God has for him.



Your life is not an “accident.” Every person you come in contact with, experience you have, and place you live is to prepare you for something more.



This is not an all-encompassing list, and the things on it don't make me any more special than the next guy, but it was precious to look back on some of these things.



I grew up in the country. When the power went out with a storm, we not only had no electricity, we also had no water or toilet usage since the water was pumped from a well with an electric pump. Now, I am regularly without power and/or water, so somehow...I got a head start :)



In the country, we planted a large garden, and even though I hated working in it, the education it provided me is really coming in handy as I plant my own food now.



My parents “allowed” us to try foods that might not be highly favored like liver, cactus, and snake. But it was just a warm-up for the caterpillars, grasshoppers, and termites I have tried since being here.





















Also growing up in the country, I had several opportunities to “relieve” myself when there were no toilets around. It made me an “expert” so I could teach my girls the tricks of the trade. Toilets (to sit on) are a rarity here.




























My mother cooked fresh vegetables from her garden most nights, so I was well-trained for the foods available here (nothing pre-made, preserved or found in a box).





































I think camping every summer with my family whether in a pop-up trailer or a small camper helped me learn how to cook in small, cramped spaces, like my present kitchen.






















My parents always gave to those in need, and it was always modeled for me long before I arrived in Africa where “need” is always at my gate.



























My parents taught me how to work hard and have a good work ethic. Every summer, my siblings and I got up before the sun rose to either pick corn or spray Mesquite and Huisache trees. So I was prepared long ago for the extra work that is required on a daily basis to live here (of course, this picture is not something we do on a daily basis, but it's fun to see Kylie imitating the African women, isn't it?).






















My mother taught me how to cook at an early age. If I had only known how to open a box or defrost a frozen bag, I would have been in a lot of trouble.



I remember my mom cooking with powdered milk in my younger years (which I am forced to do now), and before microwaves, she had to heat up all the leftovers on the stove (which I am also forced to do now).



I wore my sister’s (and my sister’s friends) hand-me-downs, so I was never attached to brand names. It comes in handy when the only place I have to shop is the used clothes market.



My hometown was 45 minutes from a mall or movie cineplex, so the 7-hour drive I now have to a “city” is not too far of a stretch for me.



My college education was focused on “education,” and now I am in a place where I have no choice but to teach my own children.



Five ladies in Mississippi prepared me to homes chool my children, even though I never knew in what capacity I would be doing it. Thank you, Lisa, Colleen, Anna, Angie, and Debbie.



The large university I attended has an old tradition where you greet everyone you pass with “Howdy.” Now, I’m in a culture that also expects you to greet everyone you pass, but I just say, “Mi ngoni,” instead.





















I started going on mission trips in college. Now I'm "living" a mission trip.



Thankfully, God had already moved Doug and I away from “home” twice before. So this move wasn’t my first time to leave Texas, but my third.



We applied for foreign missions the first time before being called to Baton Rouge. After arriving in Baton Rouge, the pastor left within a month, but because of us serving there, I went on my first mission trip to Uganda. I also found life-long friends (who still encourage me) within months of moving there.



The last few years in America, we moved so much that we didn’t bother hooking up cable, so I thankfully got used to not having a TV. Besides growing up, I only had CBS, NBC, ABC, and PBS anyway. Anyone?



The DVD screens in our minivan went out while we lived in Baton Rouge, so my kids were already trained to make a 7-hour drive with no entertainment but what they made themselves.



I have been blessed to sit under many great teachers of the Word: Chris Osborne, Gregg Matte, Tommy Politz, Chip Henderson, Stuart Rothberg, Richard Bowden, David Welch, Tommy Nelson, and Neil McClendon, among others. Thankfully, I have had a lot of teaching, because now I am responsible for feeding myself the Word.



My sister has also lived overseas for 20 years, so she paved the way for me, and was a great resource before I ever left American soil.


Isn't God good? Everything we go through is for a reason.


I just never knew He had been preparing me for the mission field L O N G before it was ever a thought in my heart.

Take a look at your journey. What do you see?

What was that??!?

Thursday morning I took an active step in discovering what was wrong with my back. For those of you who don't know, I pulled my back out in January and March of this year, and I think I'd rather that didn't happen again, especially while I'm overseas. I wanted to see if I could get fixed.

I went to a chiropractor.

For the first time.

This was not the back "massage" I envisioned.



He did, however, assure me that my "problems" were fixable. So I was thinking, "Alright, bring it on!"

He fixed my leg that was shorter than the other. That was okay; just a little rub here, a little pull there.

Then he went for some back stuff. I was expecting him to rub out the tension and ease all the cricks.

The dude's whole body weight went down on my spine. There was popping and twisting involved. Is that normal? Is that okay?

I wanted to yell, "Hey, someone could get hurt here." (Namely, me.)

Then he moved on to my neck. The first "twist" came without me knowing what was going to happen, so I was semi-relaxed.

WHAT WAS THAT??!?

OK, I just saw a CSI episode last week where some chick in an alley got her neck twisted in a pop motion like that, and she died! (I told my chiropractor this very thing! He laughed at me (with kindness, of course)).

When he tried to do the other side, I was stiff as a board. He couldn't get me to relax enough to do it well, I'm sure. I was busy imagining the night terrors I was going to have about the first side.

Snap, crackle, pop, snap, crackle, pop, and I have to pay for this?

We (Kylie and I) went up to the front counter to pay, and I'm sure Kylie was a little unsure of what had just happened. She had seen the look on my face after that neck twist. I'm pretty sure my eyes were bulging out pretty good.

The chiropractor said, "So, how about you come again tomorrow morning?"

I was thinking one time did the trick!

I have to endure this tomorrow?

My neck will never forgive me.

"Tomorrow? Uh...sure."