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Showing posts from November, 2015

Thanksgiving and Birthdays

As you boys may know, today is Aunt Michele's 50th birthday.  Yes, I really am that old!  Half a century!  Growing up sometimes my birthday would fall right on Thanksgiving day since it's a holiday that is on a certain day of the week and a certain week of the month.  Do you know how that works and what U.S. president set it up that way?  Check it out and see if you can find out!

I remember often getting a chocolate pie for my birthday and not a chocolate cake.  But it was always A-OK for me since I love pies!  Pumpkin is one of my favorites.  This morning I was glad for three extra pieces of pie leftover from our Thanksgiving feast - and yes, I ate one for breakfast with whipped cream.  I also remember that the birthday money I got almost always went to buy Christmas presents for my brother and for my parents.  Your daddy's birthday money had always run out long before the holidays, so half of mine usually got lended out to said brother to buy gifts as well.  I'm still…


Recently I attended a regional ladies' meeting for all of our area churches here in the valley.  In the afternoon attendees could choose between several workshops.  I chose based on which location would be the coolest and figured that the class held in the main auditorium would be the best!  Interestingly enough it was about women's mental health.

The speaker related the many signs of severe depression and anxiety.  As she went over her lists, I could have easily put a check mark on each and every item as I've experienced them all over the past two years.  At one point she mentioned that if you have had any or some of the symptoms for more than six months, you need professional help.  I started calculating in my little head the time frame of my "symptoms:" forgetfulness, insomnia, heart palpitations, acts of random rashness, anger, despair...

I finally decided on 515 consecutive days.  How many days is six months?  180?

Today I am thankful that I am still here! …

Always Listen to Your Mama

This week I was thinking about the last time I went into a little interior place called Madeira Cortada {Cut Wood} in the Brazilian state of Ceará.  I found an old post I made on my big blog about one of my trips.  Maybe Aaron would like to read the whole letter.  Today I'm just going to tell you about one part of the trip that I was remembering this week.  Here's the link to the complete version below: Interior Trips Once when the boys were all very small and we still lived in Fortaleza, I was invited during the big, end-of-the-year holidays to go to the interior farm of one of our church members.  It seemed like a fun idea and something good for the boys. Greyson was just a baby.  William was about seven or eight and Dalton would have been about six.   
To get there we went with other ladies and children on a big Sprinter van that ran once a week to the particular little village.  I was told the trip would take about two to three hours and I had been to the place before by car…

Faces of the Lost


I found this old poem on a card in my box of teacher stuff recently.  Thought you all might enjoy it. My dad gave me one dollar bill'Cause I'm his smartest son,And I swapped it for two shiny quarters'Cause two is more than one!
And then I took the quartersAnd traded them to LouFor three dimes -- I guess he don't know That three is more than two!
Just then, along came old blind BatesAnd just 'cause he can't see He gave me four nickels for my three dimes,And four is more than three!And I took the nickels to Hiram CoombsDown at the seed-feed store,And the fool gave me five pennies for them,And five is more than four!And then I went and showed my dad,And he got red in the cheeksAnd closed his eyes and shook his head --Too proud of me to speak!Shel Silverstein  Where the Sidewalk Ends Harper Collins, 1974

Lost and Found

Your Aunt Michele first visited Brazil in 1985.  Uncle Byron and I had been dating for a year or so when he announced that he would be traveling to Brazil that summer to see his sister graduate from the school for missionary kids.  He asked if I would like to go along.  Somehow he convinced me that it would be a great trip.  I could meet his family and see Brazil.  He was also sizing me up to see if all my talk about wanting to be a missionary would hold up under the pressures of actually going to a mission field.  So off we went with strict orders from Grandma Beckner to NOT get married on a Brazilian beach somewhere.

We drove to Miami to catch our plan to Fortaleza.  It saved us a lot of money, and money was in short supply.  We made the trip in a little yellow Honda Civic with no air conditioning.  On the way down we stopped in Pine Mountain Valley, Georgia where we spent the night with friends of the Atha family, Owen and Grace Riley.

In Miami we were to leave the little Honda at a …

Faraway Family

I'm not a real great "faraway" aunt.  I can't remember all my nephews' birthdays [there are only three].  I have to look up their address every time I need it.  But, hey!  I know what their dog's name is and what the tree looks like in the side yard because of a wild, crazy, not well planned trip from NC to Texas on a stateside furlough in 2014.  It was only a few days, but was precious and memory making.

Seems that's the life of a faraway missionary aunt.  And now I'm a faraway missionary mama with two of our boys in the US of A and only one here in Brazil with us.

Yes, I worry.  I see the weather report for North Carolina and wonder if they are safe and warm.  I hear about accidents on Highway 14 and hope they are no where nearby.  But I try not to obsess with my worrying - just casual curiosity.

 I'm happy for quick chats on Facebook and occasional Skype calls.  It's a new phase of my missionary life.

Things I do to keep in touch:

Friday blog…

Look Back Next Week

No new story this week... 

Come back next Friday.