Cactus Flower

    Imagine a place where it just doesn't rain sometimes for years on end.  That's the Sertão of Northeast Brazil.  It's a unique biome the size of Texas and makes up 10% of the country. Day-time temperatures can reach more than 100 degrees Farenheit  in the hot months of December and January. Imagine a place where most of the plants are cactuses and thorn bushes.  That's the Sertão!  Plants need those prickly parts so animals don't eat them up in the dry times.  Even many trees have thorns! Imagine a place where most roads have no pavement at all.  That's the Sertão!  Actually all of Brazil only have around 20% of its road system paved, but that number decreases to around 10% in the dry Northeast. But all along those dirt paths there are small communities where few missionaries go.  Communities, farms, and small cities can be found with few churches of any kind let alone a Baptist.  People live and work and exist with a unique...

How does a person pray for an on-going, world-wide catastrophe? That was the question I set out to answer earlier this week.  I wanted to have some sort of low-key [not live] prayer event for the followers of our Brazilian version of Umbrella Prayers called Sombrinhas de Oração.   In this quest for information I sought answers from friends and my Sombrinhas' colleague, Anne Almeida.  We both decided to "sponsor an event" through our Facebook page.  Interestingly as I set up the "event," Facebook gave me several warnings about sponsoring a group activity during a health crisis with stay at home edicts in effect.  I made sure I wrote "on-line" only and "each one in their own home" in several pertinent locations. On Wednesday or Thursday we decided on a Bible passage for our "guests" to read and I set to making a brief devotional and looked for a list of prayer points.  All day on Friday we worked and edited and correct...

I had a silly thought while talking to my dog the other day to import all my story posts from my Missionary Mama Stories blog to have everything in one spot.  Then my plan was to delete the other blog.  I had a whole list of good reasons...  I don't post there every week as I had been. Chase and Mariyah are too little to read.  My three nephews are big and most likely past the read a story from auntie missionary stage. Alas, I followed all the steps and bingo!  All my posts from one blog went to the other.  And apparently the few who follow my blog by email received a hundred email alerts in the process!  Please, forgive me for spamming your inbox!  It with totally unintentional!  I only realized that's what was happening when my mother starting commenting on old posts and then... Poof!  All those imported/exported story posts were gone!  I'm imagining Blogger decided it was a spam game on the part of some Brazilian mafia u...

"It Is What It Is" This past Monday we were supposed to fly off on our big airplane back to Brazil.  My "visa card" had expired.  It was a big mistake on my part after years of traveling back and forth.  I had just failed to see it.  Thankfully Byron said,  "It is what it is,"   which became a key phrase repeated throughout the long day. I'd spent days and days talking to our three-year grand boy about the big day.  I wanted him to have some idea of where Mama was off to.  We'd talked about 'big airplanes' and Mama getting on one.  And now, lo and behold, she wasn't!  I think the biggest disappointment at that moment was how to tell my little buddy that Mama's plane was going now where. "It is what it is."  What's done is done and let's move along and take care of what needs to be done.   We had this crazy idea that being right in DC and the fact that a consulate was right there would solve the problem quic...

Some time around the spring of 2016 our lives took on a new swing.  It was a quieter, less chaotic, smoother thing.  There was no more island camp wearing us out with weekend after weekend retreat.  There was no more hurrying off to catch the bus to town for my ESL teaching job which also wore me out.  There was only one boy.  William and Dalton are both in the States now working, studying and living.  And all of a sudden, it didn't seem so odd - the quiet.  It was just new.  I didn't miss the craziness of our retreat schedule.  I did miss my two stateside boys but I was worrying over them day and night any more.  I didn't miss the bus rides one bit.   Now I should define the word "quiet" a little better.  It doesn't really mean silence, just the lack of busyness with three boys running in and out and here and there.  It means a little less laundry, a little fewer dishes in the sink, and a little less housework and...

Since we have come home on furlough, many people have been asking me about our oldest's plans for college.  That's one of the questions that is natural to hear... but hard to answer.  You see, I am of the opinion that my boys don't have to leave Brazil at some magic age. All three of our boys were born and raised in Brazil.  All three speak better Portuguese than I ever will.  And even though they have been reared up in a mixed culture family with English and Portuguese, American food and norms, they are their own person.  Why do we assume MK's have to go away? William is considering college in Brazil.  He has not made definite plans yet, but his return ticket to Brazil is already bought and paid for.  After his high school graduation in May, I know that he will have many decisions - I plan to trust in the good things that William has been taught and God's leading in his life.  William - go or stay!  There is no magic time that MK'...

I had a little red jug I needed to fill So over the aft I lowered the canteen. Down it went hanging on a cable, Dangling, swinging, bobbing in the wind. I dunked the jug into the cool, clear water, Only to find the mouth of my pot all askew. The op'ning high, the water lower, So I gave a good jerk trying anew. I figured if only a little would go in, The beaker would go under and all would be well. Up and down I made that little jug swing, When all of a sudden it flew and it fell! Oh dear, oh my, what to do now. I thought as my treasure bobbled up and down. I ripped off some clothing and grabbed a life jacket And over the bow I dove in a after it! I swam and I swam to no avail As the wind carried my hope like a flung sail. Finally I turned back bellowing like a hurt whale. Back to the boat with much travail. I cried and cried and figured it gone, But alas as we moved later on, The fugitive was spotted on a sand bar. We rescued that jug and let up a happy ...

Just love this photo that friend, Carol D., took this weekend out on the island.  Haven't forgotten about the red jug story!  I'll get to it soon enough!

Dalton celebrated his fifteenth birthday this week.  We rented the fifth season of Stargate, ate lunch at McDonald's in Petro one day, went to the skate park, had a fancy chocolate dessert one night and ate chocolate ice cream on another.  And, we did not start school!  He always complains about having to start school near his birthday.  He's a funny fellow.  He loves certain shirts and will wear them to the end of their life expectancy!  Take this old soccer shirt.  You might notice that there are actually two shirts.  The darker purple is the oldest and a size smaller.  He wore it for years and still owns it.  The lighter colored one replaced it and can still be seen on his back from time to time. It used to bother me to no end thinking he had some phobia about throwing things out.  Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't.  Maybe it's a way of hanging on to things in this crazy life we live of moving here and there and all things ...

So what's wrong with you?  Dog die? Yup, My dog died ... I was already in an incredible personal slump. My best friend had just left on furlough. Things were not going well at home. Another friend had broken off our friendship. My part-time job was losing its joy Money was getting tight. My boys were growing up way too fast... And then this little book showed up in the mail one day from Booksneeze! It was like a breathe of fresh air at just the right crucial moment.  I had opened the package with the book the morning before the wild night when my twelve year old dog went into total arrest because of canine distemper. As we made the decision to go into the big city to take our old dog to see the vet after a wild night of convulsions and seizures, little phrases from the first pages I had browsed ran through my head.  When the doctor said there was little hope and we considered putting our dear dog to sleep, I just kept repeating to myself that somewhere in all ...

This week I'm cleaning, cleaning, cleaning.  Cleaning up the house, cleaning up the schoolroom, cleaning up my life.  Today I've deleted two misc., little read blogs (Yes, I exported them first) and cancelled my membership on several little used sites.  Cutting done and throwing out things is an important part of life from time to time.  All my Tiny's Tale posts can now be seen here on this blog.  Anyone looking for the Atha School Essays entries can find them on the main Atha School for Boys blog. Seems my life is segmented in four year slots and close to the end of each slot, I get the itchy, need-to-clean feeling that starts the process of preparing for the great furlough packing rush.  I'm not sure that this might be the beginning of those feelings to get ready... Take care!

Last week found us with twenty-one girls heading out to the island for a three day retreat.  This was a special group with about ten young ladies from one school of our little hometown.  These ten along with about that many from another nearby town were to participate in our first ever ESL event on the island.  Stories were told in half English and half Portuguese.  Choruses were taught and sung in English.  Counselors were English speakers from the States.  All in all it seemed to go well. Sadly, I've been super busy all month getting ready for this retreat and the restart of my ESL classes this week, and now I have the start of homeschooling looming in the near future.  Will try to post more retreat photos and a little story later this week! Yours,

What can I say?  I love the smell of a good shoe!

Just call me a laundry fanatic!  I love all those dirty clothes, especially socks!

Just a little inspiration for my day as I work on schedules and menus and plans for an upcoming retreat...

I'm learning that teeth are not usually a polite part of this shaking stuff...

What can I say, I have a shoe fetish perhaps...