The Jungle Hut

Tereré

2012-01-31T20:36:00.001-03:00

Its summer time in Paraguay and the temperature is around 100F everyday. The way we combat this heat is to drink a lot of tereré . Yerba mate is consumed in neighboring countries , but here in Paraguay it is consumed cold and without sugar daily during our summer months. I was told that the habit of drinking the yerba mate, as cold tereré began during the Chaco War. In order for their soldiers to not be discovered by the smoke, or remains left behnd from fires, they began to drink it cold. and now we can not imagine drinking it any other way on a hot day!

These are our KITS. We do not leave home without one.
A Kit is the thermos, cup and filter straw used for tereré .

Kits are usually personalized.

This is our newest guampa and is made from a bull's horn .

Here you can see the silver filter straw used for sipping the tereré.
It is called a bombilla.

The yerba mate dried leaves are placed in the guampa.

Cold water is carried around in the thermos and special tubular bags of ice are made for placing in the thermos.You can buy this ice just about anywhere, but often people will give it to you.

The Human Problem

2012-01-29T15:10:00.000-03:00

Our Moral Rebellion is at the root of our Human Problem. Human misery is neither a result of Avidhya (Ignorance of our Divinity), nor it is a product of Kama (desire) & Karma ( Past life deeds). It is a result of human refusal to live under the moral authority of our Heavenly Father.
_ from the book, Legacy Of William Carey... Author, Vishal Mangalwadi

The Things I See...

2012-01-27T11:28:00.000-03:00

Old photos from my first year as a teacher in Arcadia, Florida

Jungle Mom @ 1980

Gastro-Geographical Linguistic Tour of Latin America

2012-01-23T16:08:00.000-03:00

Mexico was the first Latin country I ever lived in. I loved Mexico because they make some great foods! I loved the enchiladas and mole! The tacos and quesadillas. I loved it all! But after I spent a year in language school in Mexico I assumed I could speak Spanish in any Latin America country and it would all be understood. I made sure to learn the names of my favorite foods, because, well, food is very important to me!

So I knew a 'torta' was a sandwich and a 'tortilla' was a flour or corn flat bread. Beans were frijoles. I love to drink coke so I knew to ask for 'coca'. Pop corn, a good snack, is 'palomitas' which is easily remembered because it mean 'little doves'.

Good to go!

And then I moved to Venezuela. Suddenly, a 'torta' was not a sandwich but a cake! A' tortilla' was an omelet and beans were 'caraotas'. Oh yeah,' tacos'? Those are soccer cleats! Not tasty at all!

I learned new words for my favorite foods. 'Lomito' was the best cut of beef.' Pasteles' were pastries. 'Perico' was scrambled eggs with onions, tomatoes, and peppers. I loved the 'panes with mantequilla' (bread and butter). Also it is best not to ask for coca! It is sold by the kilo and is a white powdery substance... one must ask for a 'refresco'. And popcorn is 'cotufa', so no more little doves.

Then I visited Costa Rica. I asked for a 'torta' and they said,"QUEQUE" (what? what?). I asked again, "Torta, por favor" and they handed me some cake, but said, "QUEQUE". Oh, like 'Cake' but said in Spanish. Gotcha! And passion fruit is not parchita but maracuya. ok then...

Then I moved to Paraguay where my favorite legumes are not 'frijoles' nor 'caraotas' but...habichuleas or porotos. But 'porotos' confuses me because here the popcorn is 'pororo' Passion fruit, which I knew as 'parchita' or 'maracuya', is mburucuya. If I want bread and butter, I have to ask for cookies with lard! 'Galletas con manteca' is 'pan con mantequilla' (bread and butter).

Confused yet?

If I want a good steak, I don't ask for a 'lomito' because that will be a sandwich. And a 'mixto', which in Venezuela would be a sandwich with beef, pork and chicken, is just a plain ham and cheese on bread here. 'Perico', the scrambled eggs is' Bandera espanola'... but who wants to eat a Spanish flag???

Then we come to the 'yerba'! The 'weed' everyone uses every day in large amount. Its sold on the grocery store shelves and even strangers on the street will offer you free weed. In Venezuela 'yerba' is an illegal substance usually smoked by teens! And no 'coca' or 'refresco' here, its a 'gaseosa' which sounds a bit repulsive!

And now we come to Argentina where everything is different yet again. 'Yerba' isn't yerba but 'mate' and it must have sugar added!

When my husband went to the coffee shop in Argentina he ordered his usual 'cafe'.

"Would you like that with a factura ( bill/check)?" they asked him.

"Well, yes, but when I am finished." he said.

"But Senor, don't you want your factura now, while your coffee is still hot?" They politely insisted.

"Ok, but I may wish to order a second cup of coffee and you will have to add it to my bill." he replies.

And then the waiter brings him his coffee and a pastel (pastry) which is called a 'factura' (bill/check).

And yes, it would be best eaten with the hot coffee after all!

Map of Memories

2012-01-18T11:05:00.002-03:00

(A note from Yekwanaman)

I just unpacked a hand drawn survey map of the Caura/Erebato river basin in Venezuela, made sometime after MAF first entered Venezuela back in the late 1950´s. It shows the rivers, rapids and different villages, (Chajuraña is on there). Those pilots flew many hours just to record what was down below. Perhaps they were the first to do it. I will be framing it and putting on my office wall here in Paraguay as a connection to the life I will never forget.

It was given to me by a missionary in Venezuela who at one time was with the Orinoco River Mission. He and his wife lived on a house boat with their 6 children as they traveled to preach in different villages along the Orinoco. They, and others, wanted to go deeper into the jungle, but they needed help. That was when MAF came into the picture.

Another missionary family with ORM was in the village of Chajuraña traveling in and out by canoe. They loved the MAF plane and the pilots. They helped us with advice and counsel on our way there 20+ years later .

I see places on the map in the jungle where I slept, where the men went hunting, and rapids where some of my friends died.

To touch the map is like touching almost 60 years of missions history, most of it will be forgotten in a few decades and the world will never know of the pilots, missionaries and tribal people who lived in that region. But the people who have lived and worked there, who know Jesus Christ as their Savior, will one day be reunited as family. We will eat Washadi ,(Tapir), Cawaadi (Deer), casabe (manioc bread) and waddue (hot peppers sauce) and drink as much manñoco and Yucuta as we possibly can.

And we will laugh like Ye'kwanas. because it is so much fun.

Yep, I am gonna frame that map and hang it to remember.

Planking in Paraguay

2012-01-07T11:59:00.000-03:00

WHY? It annoys my adult children.

Please Pray for Anonymous!

2012-01-02T08:37:00.002-03:00

I have interacted online with 'Anonimo" for over a year. He is not a believer and has had a difficult life. He wrote me of going through a battle of cancer several months ago and I have had no word from him until today!

Please join me in sincere prayer for him as he battles cancer and is contemplating eternity!

Here is his message :

Anonymous said...
I know you ask for me some time ago.

I still alive.

My tumor was removed along with my adrenal gland. Went to the Hospital with blood pressure of 230/ 135 and the surgeon saved me, despite all the problems I had.

Now, I just lost my friend of 45+ years. A friend that had ugly scars in his face and was object of many jokes. What people didn't know was the he had 4 purple hearts couple of silver stars and countless other commendations A Viet Nam veteran, exPOW and victim of torture. I'm still crying and I miss him so much. He just left prematurely. I'll soon will join him. We all go the same into eternal sleep. I still dont believe in heaven but I know that we are energy and energy can not be created of destroyed. when we die we just turn into something else.

There was an Honor Guard and only four people. No member of his family to recieve the flag. It was given to me.

You must know the pain.

I dont know how to pray. So I ask you to elevate your prayers for him. At the end He had no one, but a couple of friends. The service was short but I couldnt help noticed a couple of service men in the honor guard running tears for some one they didnt know.
Please pray for him. Unlike me, he was christian and is possible that no one is praying for an American Hero.

ANONY.
jan. 1st. 2012

Gracias, y si reso por mi durante el tiempo que estuve ausente le doy las gracias. Yo no entiendo el por que la gente ora. Tal vez sus intenciones sean buenas. Pero para mi es imposible comprender por que lo unico que e conocido en esta vida a sido dolor, traicion, humillaciones. Heridas fisicas morales y sentimentales.
le deseo suerte en su mission y que logre lo que se dispuso a hacer victoriosamente.

ANONIMO.

Jungle Mom comments:

Dear Anonimo, I have prayed for you and had thought perhaps you had left this earth and I would not have a chance to hear from you again. You can not know this, but finding your comment gave me great joy this morning!As a believee , I am so glad you have not departed this world unprepared to face eternity and the Creator.

You are correct, we do not just disappear and go away, our 'energy' which I would call 'soul', lives on forever.

As a Christian I base my faith in God and who He is but most atheists have no objective evidence on which to base their faith in “no God”, must resort finally to philosophical objections. And this problem of suffering is the greatest of these.

They will ask, "How can a God of love permit such things in His world as war, sickness, pain, and death, especially when their effects often are felt most keenly by those who are apparently innocent? "

Atheism does not answer that question either, because even though there is much evil in the world, there is even more that is good. This is proved by the mere fact that people normally try to hang on to life as long as they can. Furthermore, everyone instinctively recognizes that “good” is a higher order of truth than “bad”. Why would this be so?

Anonimo, why are you fighting so to hang on to life when it has been so miserable? This is the question you must ask of yourself.
The Bible teaches us that there really is no such thing as innocent suffering, because we have all sinned. Since “all have sinned and come short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23), there is no one who has the right to freedom from God’s wrath on the basis of his own innocence because of man's rejection of God's law, the entire world is under bondage. " the whole world groaning and travailing together in pain” (Romans 8:21-22)

The Good News is God, in His mercy, provided a way for the individual to escape this pain!
The Lord Jesus Christ, who was the only truly “innocent” and “righteous” man in all history, nevertheless has suffered more than anyone else who ever lived.

And this He did for us!
Anonimo! He did this for you!!!!
“Christ died for our sins” (I Corinthians 15:3). He suffered and died, in order that ultimately He might deliver the world from the Curse, and that, even now, He can deliver from sin and its bondage anyone who will receive Him in faith as personal Lord and Savior. This great deliverance from the penalty of inherent sin, as well as of overt sins, also assures the salvation of those who have died before reaching an age of conscious choice of wrong over right. The only true innocents without sin.
The sufferings of the unbeliever are often used by the Holy Spirit to cause them to realize their needs of salvation and to turn to Christ in repentance and faith.The sufferings of Christians should always be the means of developing a stronger dependence on God and a more Christ-like character which we use to show the love of God to the unbelievers.

God is loving and merciful, even when, “for the present,” He allows trials and sufferings to come in our lives.

“For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).

I do not know you and yet, I have a deep yearning in the hopes that in some way our online communication may bring you to the knowledge of the grace of God and His willingness that you need not suffer eternally. Perhaps He put me and my little blog in your life path so that at this moment you might act on that faith?

Please, accept this message in the most sincere manner in which I offer it , from a heart that wishes you the happiness and eternal joy I know I shall experience and would love to run into you in the here after!

Happy New Year

2011-12-31T18:05:00.000-03:00

'Resolved, that I will live so as I shall wish I had done when I come to die.' ~ Jonathan Edwards

On Loving God

2011-12-30T12:09:00.000-03:00

"Our relationship to God is mirrored in our relationship with our neighbor, and our family is made up of our closest neighbors. The state of our marriage, our relationship to our kids, and our relationship to our friends and coworkers all reveal the condition of our relationship to God. If we are serious about loving God, we must be serious about loving our neighbors." ~ Nancy Wilson

The Things I See...

2011-12-28T11:48:00.000-03:00

Yesterday we spent the day at 'La Garganta del Diablo' ( The Devil's Throat) with the kids.

See more photos on my face book page, HERE.http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2989864464635.2159559.1202804372&type=1&l=03b1338746

A Christmas Surprise

2011-12-23T14:29:00.001-03:00

My son and his wife showed up on my door step this morning, a total and complete surprise the kids have been planning since July!

Down Town

2011-12-19T10:42:00.002-03:00

This is a re-post of one of my first trips down town here in Ciudad del Este. Thankfully, it is beginning to feel more normal for me, and yet, I sort of miss the wonder of it all that one senses on their first steps out into the wild city of the east!

Yesterday I almost tripped over the Arab men smoking their hookah because I was looking at the Chinese lady selling the silk kimonos. But the Portuguese man called out a warning. I then took refuge in the christian Korean store.

This city is culturally ADHD and I may need to start taking some Ritalin!!

Did I mention the man playing the Steinway piano in front of the Sushi bar? He had a CD with a Sinatra song, entitled, "MAY HUEY". (My Way)

I also found Rolex watches even I can afford! Who knew???? But I best not discuss here what the guy tried to sell us as we crossed the street in front of the protest march before the National Police blocked the road! Speaking of protests, Paraguayan protests are like a Sunday School parade compared to the ones in Venezuela. It was so calm we were already IN it before we realized what it was!

After that we walked back to where we had left our car parked...right in front of the TAXI line '11 de Septiembre'. (September 11).

Then we had lunch at a Brazilian steak house with a room full of Chinese people.

This city, Ciudad del Este, is like the duckbill platypus of cities! As if God took all the left over fragments of societies and dumped them down here together on the edge of nowhere just to confound the rest of us!

OH WAIT! I fit right in, don't I????

The Things I See...

2011-12-17T16:06:00.000-03:00

Doing what she does best!

Jewel is in Brazil on her way home

2011-12-13T09:34:00.000-03:00

I dedicate this repost in honor of her as she is enduring an 8 hour layover...if all goes well!

How I spent a year in Brazil one day!
We left our home for the airport at 4 am. Our flight from Asuncion to Sao Paolo was scheduled to leave at 6 am. All went well. Our bags were checked, we went through what passes for security in these parts, and made ourselves comfortable as we waited for the call to board the plane.

And we waited.

And waited.

Finally, we were told our flight to Sao Paolo had been postponed.

And we waited some more.

Around 10:00am we realized we would not arrive in Sao Paolo in time to make our connection for Miami. A group of us were in this same position and the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED informed us we would be staying in Sao Paolo for the day and waiting for the midnight flight to Miami which would arrive in Miami at 9 am the following morning.

People began to complain about the delay and we were told not to worry that the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED would take us all to a nearby hotel to spend the day as we awaited the later flight.

OH! But not us. We, as Americans, were told we could not leave the airport as we had no Visa for Brazil.
My husband began to explain that with my chronic back condition, we must be given some where to rest, at the very least, permission to wait in the VIP lounge of the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED!

Alas, this request was denied and so he began to beg for a business class seat on the 9 hour flight to Miami but the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED realizes that when leaving the country of Paraguay, one has very few options and they can treat you as they wish.

We finally arrived in Sao Paolo around noon. We all went to the counter for connecting flights as we had been told to do, only to find out that they were not prepared for us. After a four hour delay in Asuncion, no one had begun to work on our plight at all. By now we had decided to present our Paraguayan ID's rather than American passports and see if we might be included in the hotel offer after all.

One hour passes ~ by now the 10 of us in transit know each others names.

Two hours pass ~ We now know one anothers marital status, occupations, and final destinations in the USA. We are sharing food and drink as there is no where to purchase such sundries in this section of the airport unless you pay 8$ for a Coke and 15$ for a dry empanada. One would assume that the cost of food and drink would be covered by the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED, but one would assume incorrectly.

Three hours pass ~ Now we have shared the names of our pets and know one anothers favorite colors! Still no word on the supposed hotel nor transport to and from it. The airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED seems to be annoyed that we continue to bother them with our presence at their counter.

I must say, Paraguayans are much more patient than Americans or Venezuelans. If this had been a group of Venezuelans we would have organized a general strike and march by now and teargas would be involved! At the very least we would have made enough noise to have brought the attention of the National Guard and someone would have been slapped around!

A group of Americans would have already filed several law suits on the internet via their I phones!

Four hours pass ~ Now we are sharing life stories and deep secrets and feel a bond of kinship with one another. We begin to say mean things about the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED in the Guarani language which they will never understand. We are now family and in this thing together for the long haul. I discover that the passive, patient Paraguayans have not bee so idle after all! They had texted home and someone was able to get the personal phone number of the President of the airport in Asuncion. They were now bombarding the President with text messages describing our treatment by the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED.

FINALLY, we can go claim our bags and then push and pull them ourselves the farthest possible distance one can while still remaining on airport premises. As we went through immigration, the representative of our group was asked, "Are you all the group in transit from Paraguay?" To which he answered, truthfully, "Yes" and so, without a glance at passports or papers of any kind, our group of 10 was escorted out of the airport . Our bus awaited us but we had to walk the quarter mile to it, still pushing and pulling all of our bags.

Once on the bus, the driver informed us that we would have to wait another 20 minutes for the bus to leave on its scheduled time. All ten of us glared at him and silently, bared our canines! He decided he should make an exception for us. The representative of the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED left us at this point. We did not miss him.

By the time we arrived at the now seemingly mythical hotel, we only had three hours to shower and eat before we needed to return to the airport to check our luggage for the next flight.

We caught the bus, we dragged our bags, we checked in as a group on our Letter of Transit. We made it to security. All the Paraguayans went through and awaited us on the other side. BUT now we, the Americans, were informed that we should not have left the airport without a Visa for Brazil. It did not matter that the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED escorted us through Immigration knowing that we were American citizens. It did not matter that the immigration official did not even check ours, or any of the others, documentation, no, we were illegal immigrants!

At this point my husband asked to be deported from Brazil. Deported to Miami on the soon to leave flight for which we already possessed boarding passes and on which our luggage was loaded.

We looked at our Paraguayan friends and told them to please continue to the gate and not miss their flight! But they refused to leave us! They all remained and clamored with the officials, vouching that although the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED had NOT included our names on the Letter of Transit, we had indeed been with them the entire time.

One of the Paraguayans ran back to the counter of the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED and brought an official from the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED with a revised Letter of Transit which did include our names. The security officials decided to allow us to pass through and catch our flight. I think they were concerned about detaining angry Americans backed up by a group of not so passive Paraguayans.Perhaps they were recalling their own history of the War of the Triple Alliance and knew how persistent Paraguayans can be when they felt the need.

Now we are all running to the gate of the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED and find out that this flight has also been delayed!

Of course it has! This is the norm for the airline WHICH SHALL NEVER BE NAMED!

And that is how I spent a year in Brazil one day!

Have you ever?

2011-12-09T11:44:00.000-03:00

Listened to the sound of rain falling upon a palm roof?

Heard the songs of howler monkeys in the jungle?

Seen a sky only God could paint?

Watched the majestic macaw soar overhead?

Fallen asleep to the sound of the river flowing past your window?

Swam beneath the spray of a waterfall that has no name?

Listened to the thunder roll across the jungle, and heard the voice of God?

Followed the tracks of a jaguar down to the creek,
hoping to catch a peek?

Walked under a moon so bright, it cast your shadow at mid night?

Stand under the jungle canopy, looking up...and see no sky?

Felt the sun beat upon you as you paddle down stream
in a dugout canoe?

Loved a child with dark, black, shiny eyes?

Swam in a current that nearly takes you away?

Eaten a sun ripened pineapple, straight from the garden?

Held the hand of a tribesman, and truly felt him to be your brother?

Smelled the smoke of a camp fire, hours before you arrive?

Been held in the embrace of an Indian grandmother,
who "rocks" away your pain?

Eaten a fish that was swimming only moments ago?

Had your face lovingly painted in onoto, and felt beautiful?

Had to leave it all, not knowing when , or if you would see them again?

I would like to thank the Venezuelan jungle missionaries who have contributed these photos. All photos are original to Jungle Mom, Don Arnold, Mike Dawson, Pastor Von, Micah Jank, and Jonathan Reed.

My Week End

2011-12-04T19:46:00.002-03:00

via Facebook ~

FRIDAY~

Janus decided to eat her mattress last night. I think she is assuming this will allow her back into the house at night.

SATURDAY MORNING~

Please pray for safe travels for Clint tonight as he drives to Asuncion.

Saturday Night~

Clint Vernoy arrived safely. I should have asked prayer for those of us who did not travel out of town. We had a little 'encounter' on the way home tonight, but all is well.

Even later~

So after our little adventure with the cops, involving a breathalyzer, I arrived home to find Janus without her collar so I could not get a hold of her to keep her in the yard while the gate was closing. Finally we made it in the house and discovered the cats had killed a bird in the bathroom and it was full of feathers and gore... and the neighbors are having a very loud party!

Later yet~

The girls decided to make crafts which ended up with lydocaine and bandages... and this was after all the OTHER stuff on the way home.

SUNDAY MORNING~

When I got home last night, Janus the Great did not have on her collar. This morning I noticed she had a swollen neck. I found her link collar wound up in the hammock strings and broken in three pieces. I can only assume she fought her way out of a terrible experience with the collar and hammock. Poor baby! She is getting lots of extra love and attention today.

Sunday mid morning~

I received a call from my daughter across town telling me that Elena thought she heard a baby chicken outside and went to help it. She set off the house alarm and woke everyone in their neighborhood up early on this Sunday morning. At least now everyone knows they have a LOUD alarm! The two chickens then came into the house. One was escorted out and the other is hiding in the girls bathroom but the bulldog got in a few good bites so there was plenty of blood. Then they discovered that their dog, Captain Alice was gone. Brian had to drive around looking for her, but she finally showed up at home on her own.

And now, off to church to see what new adventures await us!

MONDAY MORNING UPDATE~

My husband has his own excitement last night. After preaching for the all day Anniversary service of a church there in Asuncion, he was given tickets to go to the night game of our favorite Paraguayan soccer team with the Paraguayan pastor. Someone in the crowd threw a fire cracker and they all were escorted out of the stands and the game was canceled.

God writes a lot of comedy... the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.
~Garrison Keillor

The Things I See...

2011-12-01T11:02:00.000-03:00

Janus the Great and the kitten with a death wish!

Actually, Janus is pretty patient with the kitten and we often find them sleeping together in the morning.

Upstairs Bathroom ????

2011-11-29T09:28:00.005-03:00

Jewel, now, 21, began writing down some memories from her childhood in the Amazon jungle of Venezuela a few years ago. It is interesting to see things through the eyes of a child.

Jewel watches as an indian lady makes a hammock.

Growing up, how many times did you just get totally shocked by something that later on just became expected? Its funny how as kids we appreciate and enjoy the small wonders in life. How a simple bug that we have never seen before is the most wonderful thing in the world. How you would stay up at night and watch for the stars to come out and wish on the first one you saw because, even tho they told you the Tooth Fairy wasn't real, there was a part of you that just couldn't be sure!

I've decided to write down the things that as a child I thought were the most astonishing, most spectacular , unbelievable, the most stupendous things.

In the jungle we didn't have an inside bathroom for many years, we had an out house that was just like McDonalds.......ok, because it had two stalls and that was where the resemblance ends, but I was 4, so give me a break! We named our outhouse McDonald's.

Our outhouse.

Any ways, back to the point, I knew that there were houses that had an upstairs and that also had indoor bathrooms, but it was impossible to have those sort of things in the jungle to my little mind. It just wasn't possible! Or so I thought until I went to Tama Tama!! (A small village on the Orinoco River where there was a missionary boarding school for many decades.)

I remember getting off the plane and being tired and sweaty and so I went to the house we would be staying in. If any one has ever had a 4 year old they will know they have very small bladders and a two hour flight is very long! That being the case, I asked the missionary lady where the bathroom was. She smiled and said "Up stairs..." I could slightly hear her continue talking but I just had to stop and ponder this new revelation, and this is what I thought, 'Up stairs? Did she really say there was an up stairs? Maybe she meant a loft ..yeah! that must be it!' There's no way she can have an up stairs in the jungle, haha! My small bladder was starting to protest so it brought me back to what I was asking before.

Our loft.

I asked her again because I kinda got lost on the whole up stairs thing. She looked at me and smiled and said " Up stairs and the second door....." my thoughts? Well mostly like this, "DOORS?????" but once again my bladder brought me back to the present and I had to ask her once again. This time she not only looked but also laughed, I guess I would too! So once again she told me " Up stairs and the second door on the left." .......dose she mean to tell me that the bathroom is in the house? No way! Impossible! She pointed to the back of the house to what looked like stairs.
I looked once more at her and then slowly walked to the stairs. I looked back at my parents, seeing as how they were busy talking, and I was told not to interrupt adults. I slowly went up the stairs, making a mental note to try sliding down the banister later, like in the movies!
Once I got to the top, I stopped with my mouth open! This was definitely not a loft! It was, with out a shadow of a doubt, an upstairs! As I slowly walked down the hall, counting the doors, I realized I didn't know which side was left and right. After taking a a few moments to figure out which side was left, I figured the best way was to do' TU TI NA NE WA MA DU DI TA'. (Ye'kwana version of iny mini miny mo!) So that done, I opened the door, and if this was a movie you would see a little girl opening a door with a bright light shinning through... and the next thing I remember is getting in trouble for sliding down the banister!

As you can see, Jewel eventually was able to take stairs for granted. Her she is in a wedding in Venezuela last year.

Look at what we discovered in the news paper?

2011-11-28T12:29:00.000-03:00

Thanksgiving Prayer From Father Knows Best

2011-11-24T11:32:00.004-03:00

Father Knows Best!

It saddens me to realize many young Americans and immigrants can not recall a time when we all, even Hollywood, took time to thank God in public.

The Marine Corps Birthday Ball ~ Asuncion, Paraguay

2011-11-21T14:01:00.000-03:00

Last week the USMC celebrated their 236th birthday. Marines all across the world gather together to celebrate, whether it be a simple cake or a gala event, the day is celebrated. This year my husband escorted our youngest daughter to the Marine Corps Birthday Ball held here in Paraguay. As the great grand daughter of a Marine, the grand daughter of a Marine, and the daughter of a Marine, it was a great honor for her to be invited to sing the Star Spangled Banner during the ceremony.

She had not been informed that she would indeed be singing until arriving. Gunny Ho heard that she was a singer and of her Marine heritage and told her she would be singing.Then he told her to sing all four verses! And when Gunny tells you to do something...you do it! She did a great job and felt honored to be asked.

She loves her daddy!

Its all about the accessories!

Jayde has her own idea of accessorizing!

A few good men ready to defend and protect!

First line of defense.

She did it!

2011-11-15T12:14:00.000-03:00

This week end Jayde tied for first place in an international folkloric competition held annually here in Paraguay.

Winning Female Soloist ~Festival del Takuare'e de Guarambaré

Honoring our Family's Veterans

2011-11-11T17:11:00.002-03:00

Our family has many service men and women in the Armed Forces!
Thanks!

" We will always remember. We will always be proud. We will always be prepared, so we may always be free."
-President Ronald Reagan

To view an album of some of my family who have, or are currently, serving in the military check out the link below!

My Family's Vets

I am proud to be related to each and every one of them!

Happy Birthday

2011-11-10T10:11:00.003-03:00

Happy Birthday Marine Corps!
This photos was taken at my very first Marine Corps Birthday Ball.

This year my husband will be escorting Jayde to the Birthday Ball here at the Embassy.

My husband and I at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball of 1983

What happens when you mix a third generation marine
with a fourth generation baptist preacher's kid?

Why, missionaries in the amazon jungle of course!

And then on to Ciudad del Este!
It has been a wonderful journey!

A Queen bearing gifts!

2011-11-07T12:49:00.001-03:00

A friend, The Queen, just dropped off home made tajine!

I have wonderful friends in my life. Monday's are always difficult for me physically, so not only having a hot meal, but a Moroccan meal delivered to my door step makes me feel like a queen.

Have you ever eaten Tajine?

It's sabroso!

Quote of the Day (Vishal Mangalwadi)

2011-11-06T12:33:00.001-03:00

“As Jesus hung upon the cross of Calvary, it was literally the sin of the world that was hanging there at that moment of history. The people who physically saw that crucifixion, whether or not they were Christ’s followers, saw that it was not the justice but the injustice of man that was being carried out that day. In the arrest, trial and crucifixion of Christ, man’s sin was more than visible: man’s disobedience to God, man’s rejection of truth, man’s cruelty, his lies, his hate, his greed, his vested interest, his oppression, his exploitation, his abuse of power, his deliberate choice of evil were all there on the cross for everyone to see, hear and feel. That is why the Biblical statement, that Jesus became the sin of the world, is not some theological mumbo-jumbo, but a statement of historical fact. It was not Jesus who was judged on that cross, but the sin of mankind that was judged and condemned” (Vishal Mangalwadi, Truth and Social Reform

Quote of the Day (Vishal Mangalwadi)

The Things I See...

2011-11-04T17:10:00.000-03:00

My youngest grand daughter walking

down a Paraguayan street.

Crazy Gringos

2011-11-03T11:46:00.000-03:00

I am sure the neighbors think we are truly mad! We invited all the little gringos over to do some Pumpkin carving, but being in Paraguay, it turned into Water melon carving.

Abbie and her Alien!

Elena and her JACK O GUAYAN

Monse feeds her laughing melon!

Maddie and JAWS

The two master minds created the Canibelon!

The melon eating watermelon.

We even had the Marines come in and help!

Monse and I trying to make a....what was it supposed to be????

Sticky fun for all!

Some people showed up to see what the craziness was about.

Bwahaaahaaa!

..as the demons danced upon our roof.

2011-10-31T11:20:00.000-03:00

Many times in the jungle one is confronted with the reality of the spirit world. I know that in our modern society many do not believe in witches, demons, angels or even God, but this is not the case with the indian cultures. They know good and evil spirits exist and even interact with us mere humans.

The Ye'kwana culture is replete with myths and lores of the spirit world. Some are based on historical events and what their ancestors observed.

There are spirit beings as lowly as wee folk who play annoying pranks hiding things from you or troubling the hunting dogs, all the way up to "Canaima" who is the embodiment of our "Boogey Man". There is the often seen "wiyu". This is a spirit which comes after someone has died and tries to trick another person into accompanying the dead one. They even have a mermaid! And don't forget the terrible" macuchis"! My children even sang a song about the macuchis to tease each other.

The macuchis gonna get you if you start to pout!
The macuchis gonna get you if you don't watch out!

Whatever the case may be, I have seen and experienced things that I often do not share as I fear people will think I have lost my mind. I have seen people who were visited by Canaima appear to be in a trance and die a few days later with mysterious bruises and bleeding. I have been touched by a demon possessed person, only to wake up hours later with the print of their hand burned into my flesh. I have awakened at times with a smothering feeling of heaviness only to find my husband awake and experiencing the same. Talk about a cold chill, to wake up at night and feel as if an elephant is sitting on your chest and the night is so black you can not see your own hand, but you know there is a presence there. At times like these, the only relief comes from calling out to God.

After building our house and finally getting a small generator to replace our Coleman lanterns, we learned of an interesting event that had taken place. We learned of it in a most unusual way.

One night, we were both awoken simultaneously by a strange rustling sound which seemed to surround our house. We arose from our hammocks to investigate and found our house to be totally encircled by indians. More importantly, christian indians!

My husband went out side and asked what was going on. Shyly, they explained that they were watching out for us as they had observed "spirits" dancing upon our palm roof. Then they proceeded to tell us of a story that had unfolded several years before our arrival.

The old witch doctor of the village, Manweda, had snorted the hallucinogenic drug which the witch doctors use to enhance their visions, and after several hours of being in a trance, he awakened to tell the village a prophecy.

In his vision, he said he had seen a strange, strong light glowing out of a building upon the small hill which arose at the edge of the village. No one lived there and it was not even cleared yet, but he said he heard a loud noise which came from the house as well as the light.

As is often the case, the villagers discussed what this could mean and had not a clue. Until we showed up and asked if we might build our house upon that very hill. However, we only used Coleman lanterns and had no generator or loud noises coming form our house for several months.

Until that night!

The whole village, unbeknownst to us, had met to discuss if this was the fulfillment of Manweda's vision. As they ventured out to see, the unbelievers were frightened by what they saw around our house.

Spirits dancing on the roof!

The Christians feared for us and bravely decided to confront the spirits on our behalf, knowing we were not knowledgeable or aware of the great danger we were in, due to the nature of the evil demons and the fact that we were so reckless as to have built our house with HUGE windows in every room. Surely, Canaima would come for us one night!

But this night, the christians surrounded our house and joined in prayer to God for our protection. They were amazed that we could all sleep through the night with the demons dancing above our heads. We finally awoke from hearing their muffled prayers on our behalf.

As we spoke to them, we were told of the prophecy the witch doctor had made of our arrival with the lights and loud noise coming from a non-existent house on this exact spot.

Could God use a witch doctor to foretell of our coming? I don't know, but he has used stranger things...such as Balaam's donkey!

Whatever the reason, the people of Chajudaña had welcomed us unanimously and the new christians were greatly encouraged that we were not bothered by the spirits. Soon they were opening up their houses with larger windows to allow for better light and air flow, no longer so afraid of the spirits!

No longer were they bound in the darkness and superstition that had enslaved them and caused them to live in unhealthy smoke filled, dark houses cowering in fear.

Its my blogaversary!

2011-10-28T10:06:00.001-03:00

Five years ago today, in Barquisimeto, Venezuela, I gave birth to a blog!

I had no idea the way it would take me around the world via my readers. I never imagined I would produce something anyone who did not know me would bother reading. I have some long time readers who are now friends in the truest sense, even though we have never met face to face.

Just for fun, if you are a regular reader, tell us how you found out about Jungle Mom and how long you have been reading The Jungle Hut?

PHOTOBUCKET!

2011-10-27T11:45:00.000-03:00

Can someone explain to me how photobucket can delete or remove my own photos? From my header and badge?

Why I blog

2011-10-27T11:30:00.000-03:00

I like to blog for different reasons:

1) I like to learn, I need to learn something new everyday or I feel as if the day was wasted. So when my daughter Jackie called me from Paraguay nearly 5 years ago (I was living in Venezuela at the time) and said, "Mom, I have a blog." I did not like not knowing what one was. I checked her blog out. Loved it, and tried to leave a comment. Next thing I know, rather than a comment, I had created my OWN blog! Still not sure how that happened!

2) I like to meet new people and I love a good debate. Not an argument, just sharing differences of opinion.

3) I love sharing with family and friends. Mine are spread all over the globe, literally! Through this venue we all participate in each others lives in an active way.

4) I LOVE the Lord. This should probably be first, but half of my readers would have stopped reading at that point. LOL tricked you! I want to share what God has done for me and my family even in difficulties, in hopes of blessing others going through hard times.

5) I like to share the GOOD NEWS with people that might not normally hear it. If I reach someone through this blog, just one, I would be thrilled. So many people are open if we present things in a way they can see and feel that the conviction is of God not from me.

6) I love HEARING from everyone who visits. PLEASE, leave a comment. Even if it is anonymous. Just let me know where you are from or whatever you feel comfortable with sharing. I have some LURKERS out there and I would love to know who you are and how you ended up here at my little blog.

7)I have always enjoyed journaling, this is a way for me to record history, with world and family events to remember later...for myself, my children, and grandchildren.

So this is me , the real Jungle Mom ! I am the mother of four and the grandmother of three, and a 40++++ yr. old woman just wanting to talk and have a good laugh, mostly at myself!

Malaria Memories

2011-10-26T11:14:00.000-03:00

I was recently reminded of the first time I had malaria. We had ran out of all meds, even Tylenol, due to an epidemic of over 80 cases of malaria at one time. We had no radio to call for more and had to wait for the scheduled flight to come out about 5 days later. I ended up being flown to town for medical care. It was discovered that I not only had malaria but strep throat as well. I was never so glad to see a plane land in my life!

When we were newly arrived in the village, I came down with malaria. I had been sick several days, (weeks?) with high fever and pain, followed by some hallucinations. It was hard to know what was really happening around me from the hallucinations. Often times, in the village, the real life happenings were more bazaar than the dreams!!

Imagine having every bone in your body aching like the worse flue you can imagine...X 10!! And no bed, no bathroom, no where to do the laundry but the river, still cooking over a fire, with four small children.

One day, I was feverish and in my hammock in the mud hut we had been loaned to use until we finished building our own mud hut. The doors did not lock, so there was no way to keep people out of the house. I was wiped out and fell into a deep sleep.

I began to wake up as I became aware of something rubbing my arm. As I strained to fight the fatigue and open my eyes, I realized my legs were also being touched. I could hear some low voices nearby speaking a language I did not understand.

As I raised my heavy eyelids, I saw four faces bent down over my hammock, looking me over. They were Sanama Indian woman from the next village. Each had their face painted and were adorned with the sticks they use to beautify themselves. They also had a roll of tobacco placed between their bottom lips and lower teeth. This gives the teeth a green, slimy look and produces a green dribble which they spit out on the floor every few seconds.

As my eyes took in the sight, I screamed!

The four, poor women, jumped! Screamed! Dropped their tobacco and walking sticks...and ran out the door! Screaming all the way through the village as they headed to their canoe!

I must have been just as scary to them as they had been to me. To add insult to injury, all the men in the village came running in to check on why I and the women had screamed, expecting to find a jaguar or something equally dangerous!

NO, just me sitting in my hammock trying to figure out if it was real...or another hallucination!

Just keeping in real...

2011-10-25T10:10:00.000-03:00

Father God,

When I cried about missing my life in the jungle and begged for a chance to relive some of those experiences, I did not mean the red mud and no electricity part.
Your loving, but less than grateful, daughter, Rita Vernoy.

(The one pouting in the dark with red stained feet!)

Iglesia Bautista SIN FRONTERAS

2011-10-23T10:09:00.001-03:00

Iglesia Bautista SIN FRONTERAS

¡Hay recursos nuevos en la pagina de la iglesia!

¡Visítela hoy!

Heve you ever seen a Drunken Chicken?

2011-10-19T19:11:00.002-03:00

One morning the children and I were starting our home school day, Yekwanaman was starting his language studies, when we heard such a terrible sound! I can not describe it very well. It was weird.

Now, we were accustomed to hearing strange sounds in the village, witch doctors, old Sanema ladies fighting, children running and screaming, but this sound was unique! We all went out to investigate. The sound was coming from our chicken pen.

We tried several times to raise our own poultry. We did. But...between the ocelots and the vampire bats...we were not very successful at it. It seemed we were raising chickens to feed all the wild kingdom of the jungle but ourselves! Still, we tried!

Upon arriving at the chicken pen, we saw our rooster strutting his stuff! He was crowing like it was dawn, only, really off tune!!! And Loud. All the poor hens had their chicks off in a corner under their wings! Daddy Rooster was acting strangely!

We stood and watched for a half hour as this guy, danced around in circles, screaming his head off in what seemed to be a riotous crowing, until... he suddenly jerked himself straight, and toppled over! Stone cold!

We thought he had died of a heart attack! But, no, a few hours later, he was up on his feet, but a bit wobbly. Every time the other chickens clucked, he would bellow in rage! As much as a rooster can bellow!

It seems another missionary working with us at the time had decided to give our chickens a rotten pineapple. Fermented, none the less!

Have you ever seen a drunken roster?

The next day, we heard the rooster once again crowing loudly in the middle of the afternoon. We saw the other missionary walking by the pen with more scraps for the chickens. This time there were no fermented pineapples, but the rooster seemed quite eager to receive one!

After pecking through the scraps, he indignantly, clucked about angrily. I swear I saw him looking out of the corner of his eye with an, "I'll get you!" look at the other missionary!

From that time on, that missionary could not enter the chicken pen without being attacked! Unless he had a pineapple!

I am embarrassed to say that someone in my family would purposely save pineapples and allow them to ferment, just to see the rooster get drunk! Grant it, it was great entertainment for the whole village to watch the drunk rooster! But I always felt a bit sinful, aiding the guy in his binges!!

Cantando por un Sueño

2011-10-15T12:26:00.000-03:00

It was a late night, but it was worth it. Jayde Louisa Vernoy Riffe classified (top two overall) to be able to go and compete in the INTERNATIONAL singing competition in Guarambaré next month!

The Things I See...

2011-10-14T16:45:00.001-03:00

My youngest daughter singing a solo in her school musical last week. She was great!

7 years ago...

2011-10-12T15:23:00.001-03:00

Seven years ago I was in Costa Rica with Jackie after here cesarean delivery of Elena, everyone was celebrating Columbus Day when EL Comandante changed our lives by making his famous speech on TV telling us all to "pack our bags and leave the jungle".

We managed to stay on for several months until the legal battles became too expensive for us and our plane was impounded and nearly expropriated. By God's grace, Clint managed to get it flown out to Trinidad on Father's Day 2006. Long story!

Here is a poem my youngest daughter wrote at the time.

"Under my Thatch Roof"
By Jayde Vernoy (2006)

I lay in silence,
Unable to sleep,
We'd move to the city,
so soon each day I'd weep.

President Chavez had said,
Right on TV,
That he didn't want to see in the jungle,
One missionary.

I felt like crying,
when he said those words.
I felt like I was being stabbed,
by a thousand swords.

I loved our home,
I loved it there,
how could Chavez say that?
It just wasnt fair.

So we packed a bunch of things,
some were old,some were new,
but when we boxed it all up,
we could only take a few.

"Plane Day" came,
and we all climbed inside the plane.
I did not like it.
I thought it was insane.

One last look,
At the Indian's lined up,to say goodbye,
It hurt me so much,
I thought I would die.

But here I am now,
One year later,
getting used to a new life
And no longer eating gator.

Up Your Nose with a Rubber Hose

2011-10-11T11:28:00.000-03:00

I don't know if any others will remember that common play yard threat which we threw around in my youth. I never expected for it to actually happen to me by someone I love, or that I would perform the same upon another.

But happen it did! My husband and I were receiving our Missionary Medical Intensive training and as it would be, we were often one another's lab partners. We had lab work most of the afternoons and would practice the procedures we had been taught.

It started out lame enough, taking histories, blood pressure and such. Then we began injections and stitches and other procedures.

One morning we were taught how to make our own NG feeding tubes out of IV tubing. OK cool! This procedures is needed to be able to feed patients who are unable to self feed. Or to give meds without an IV. It involves plastic IV tube about a meter long which is placed in the nostril, fed down the throat, carefully avoiding the lungs, and on into the stomach. Then one can begin feeding with a syringe through the tube, directly into the stomach.

It is not that complicated and many parents learn to put them in for their children, but one does need practice and to learn how to avoid the lungs. So...

Yeah, there I was, head tilted back as my loving husband held a long plastic tube which he intended to place 'up my nose'. And I was going to allow him to do so. I began to practice my Lamaze breathing which I remembered from labor! You girls know, pick a focal point, breath slowly ...basically, zone out!

It was not so bad. He did it quickly and correctly as he does most things. He is a quick study and very confident and unafraid to try new things. My husband can do just about anything he sets his mind to. Later, in the jungle, this would be invaluable in our small dispensary. He has delivered over 50 babies, placed many stitches, removed arrows from people, placed feeding tubes, catheters, pulled teeth, done biopsies, and even helped with an amputation.

After he inserted and removed the tube a few times, it was now my turn. I needed to do this as well because I might be alone one day and be required to place a feeding tube in a patient. Or perhaps I would need to place one in my husband, so...

Now he was the one with his head tilted back, great fear in his eyes, as I held the tube and fully intended to place it 'up his nose'. I just wanted to get it over with! Later, in the jungle I did have to do many things, like deliver babies, put in stitches and other medical procedures, I never enjoyed it.

I carefully measured the tubing I would need, cut it off, put in the holes, melt down the sharp edges of the tubing, sterilize, and began to feed the tube up my husbands nostril. He began to gag which is common as one reaches a certain spot. This is helped by having the patient swallow water if able. I offered the water, my husband, pushed my hands aside and continued gagging. Loudly!

Everyone was soon watching us because he was gagging and squirming. So I continued to feed the tube, until...he opened his mouth! The tube was going up the nostril, down the back of his throat and now out of his mouth! Not knowing what else to do, I quickly hauled back on the tube and pulled mightily! It came ripping out. Along with a fair amount of blood and a murderous glare from my husband.

That maneuver became known as the 'Briggs and Stratton' maneuver! You know, how you haul back and pull the rip cord to start a motor? Or lawn mower? It really should not be used to remove an NG tube. The patient would much prefer a calmer removal as there will be less blood involved.

Of course, I still needed to successfully place the NG tube. So we did it again, and again, until it was done properly and I could do it easily. That was not my husband's favorite day of our marriage. Although he had been taught many things in the Marine Corps, Lamaze was not one of them, making it difficult for him to do the 'zoning out' part. All the males seemed to find the procedure much easier to give than to receive.

I am very glad we did learn the procedure as we were able to use it in the jungle for patients who could not eat. I never did need to put another tube up my husbands nose, though, for which I am sure he is most grateful!

Mensajes Dominicales

2011-10-09T14:17:00.000-03:00

¡El podcast de la iglesia! ¡Compartelo con un amigo!

Si no podés estar en el culto el domingo, igual vas a poder seguir con nuestro estudio a través de nuestro podcast online.

Empezamos nuestro estudio sobre la lucha espiritual y como el creyente pueda vivir una vida victoriosa que le glorifica a Dios.

Everything is bigger in the Amazon

2011-10-08T18:34:00.001-03:00

I told you so!

(This photo thanks to Freddy Rodriguez, our indian foster daughter's husband, and was taken in Venezuela.)

My latest 'I Love Lucy ' moment

2011-10-04T14:48:00.001-03:00

I wanted a dresser! We have not had one since we moved to Paraguay over 3 years ago. I was able to save some money in order to have one built to my specifications and desires. Today, the long awaited arrival of the new dresser came to pass.

BUT... there was a problem. After much huffing and puffing and grunting and growling by the men trying to maneuver the dresser into my room, it was determined that it would never fit through the low doorways and the hall. We tried everything, and I mean everything! Doors were removed, the base of the dresser was removed, bathroom cabinets were removed, but it was not going to happen. THE BEAST was huge! 2 meters long, 1/2 a meter wide and made of solid wood. I was beginning to think it would never be mine.

Finally, my husband determined it would have to come through the bedroom window. In the states this would not be such a big deal, but, we have bars on our windows. The window had to be removed, the screens, and then the welded metal bars were cut out. Now the beast could be brought in through the window. Did I mention the window is 2 meters off of the ground? Did I mention it is heavy? But they did it!
I am now the proud owner of a beautiful piece of furniture! It will never leave this house, I am sure, unless my husband decides to use it as my casket...

My husband is praying for patience with his ditsy wife...

See! It looks like it was made to fit in this spot!

Oh wait, it was! That is the only place I thought to take measurements of.

This is the window the beast came through, minus the window, of course.

These are the Action Packers our clothes have been stored in since we had no dresser.

THE BEAST

The color is actually darker than it appears in this photo.

I gave the carpenter a picture I found online and he used it as a model .

The one online was smaller (DUH!) and cost over twice as much as I paid.

Must be Monday

2011-10-03T17:10:00.000-03:00

Can't seem to find a coffee pot big enough to meet my needs today!

The Things I See...

2011-09-30T17:00:00.002-03:00

I was so sad to notice my favorite lawyer's sign had been painted over. I mean, who is ever going to believe me now when I tell them about Mr. Gigglberger???

This city just wont be quite the same without him!

Fire !!

2011-09-30T08:34:00.000-03:00

One night, our youngest daughter was experiencing croup. A bad case of croup. She was about 2 at the time. We were in the jungle and no doctor or hospital was available, we couldn't even call for an emergency flight to come get us. The Cessnas cant land at night on a dark airstrip. So, we did all we could. We set up a pop up tent and I boiled kettles and kettles of water while she and her dad were inside the sauna like environment, hoping to loosen the phlegm which was blocking her breathing. Finally, around 3 a.m. She was able to get rid of the phlegm and promptly fell into a deep sleep.

My husband and myself prepared to get some sleep as well. A few minutes after we had laid down, just on the verge of that wonderful sleep...we began to hear something. Rustling!
We went out of our room in time to see our son (10 years old or so) run by on his way outside! The 2 older girls were right behind him!
We could hear Indians beginning to run past our house as well, calling out...something!

So we grabbed the little one and ran out as well. You see, children always learn a foriegn language faster than their parents and Josh had understood the screams of the Indians.

He heard them yelling, "FIRE! THE ROOF IS ON FIRE!", and as he rolled over and looked out his window, he saw the flames VERY close to our roof. He thought OUR roof was on fire.

We had taught the children that if our palm roof EVER caught on fire..Get out FAST!! Dry leaves go up in flame very quickly and there is no time to grab anything. So, he took us at our word, and with only a yell over his shoulder to his siblings, he was out the door.

Once outside we realized the fire was at Tito and Dorotea's house, about 100 meters or so away.

My husband began to run towards the jungle path that led to our water pump. Their house was lost, but we hoped to be able to save the houses near it, including our own by wetting the roofs.

So Clint runs out, barefoot, into the dark jungle. The indian trails are narrow and only wide enough to walk on in single file. So staying on the trail in the dark was not easy. The pump was about 500 meters or so down to the river. There was no moon light, and the jungle at night can be scary. I ran in and grabbed a flash light and tossed it to him.

In the mean time, I climbed up our water tower to unhook the flexible pipe we used to fill the barrels we used as a water storage tank.

Once down, my son and I began to pull the 2 inch hose towards the fire. A two inch hose full of water is HEAVY! We were pulling and had gotten to the edge of a thick piece of jungle we needed to get through to reach the fire. My young son's voice was a little frightened as he asked, "Mommy, are we going to walk through there without a light?!"

I answered in my own frightened voice, "I guess we have to." At that same moment, something SWOOSHED by us and we felt the hose pulled from our hands!

All this time, my husband is experiencing his own adventure! The flashlight I had tossed him...well, the batteries were dead! So he is running through the jungle in the pitch black! Now, unless you have been in the jungle on a moonless night, under the canopy of the forest without a light, you have NO idea how DARK it can get!
aAs he runs, he is praying aloud, "Please God! No snakes!"
Later he says he wished he had prayed "No thorns". I had to pull 13 thorns, some up to an inch long out of his feet after he got back. But he did make it to the pump house and he did get the pump started.

Josh and I felt the hose taken from us. It was so dark we couldn't see who ,or what! had ran by until one of the Indians said, "We got it now".
Whew! I was glad to not have to go through that dark jungle!

After fighting the fire for several hours, the village was able to save all but the one house.

The thing I remember most was poor Dorotea! She was crying, "My new bucket! I lost my new bucket!"
That was her prized possession! A plastic bucket.

I ask you, if you had a fire, would you be crying over a bucket? That kind of puts it in perspective for me! We are so wealthy!

Lets remember to be grateful! God has blessed us with so much in our country, we don't even comprehend how wealthy we are. So next time you (or I) feel like whining about not having something, think of Dorotea and her bucket.

(This is a typical Indian house)

The Things I See...

2011-09-29T13:26:00.000-03:00

My two grand daughters behaving

very much within the Paraguayan culture.

They are sharing tereré.

How Does your Garden Grow?

2011-09-27T16:23:00.001-03:00

(Another recycled post. Very busy this week.)

When we moved into the village, I had great intentions of planting a vegetable garden. I really did! My grandmother always had a garden and my father would plant one any time he had the space, not always possible for him as he is a Pastor. Sometimes the church provides a parsonage and there just isn't land for a garden. But whenever possible, he would plant one. My mouth waters remembering his tomatoes!

In the beginning years in the jungle, we only had fresh vegetables once a month. That was when the plane would come with supplies. We would stuff ourselves on fresh veggies for a few days! We did not have any type of refrigeration at first, so we had to eat it all fast. Later, when we had our own plane, we had more frequent flights, and when my husband was able to install solar panels, he converted a small fridge to a 12 volt system to run off batteries, which we charged with the panels! He did the same with a small freezer! We were living good!!!

Back to the garden... I had ordered seeds for things I thought might grow well in the jungle. Although the soil is fertile, it is a very thin layer of top soil as the heavy rains wash it away each rainy season. This is why the Indians have to cut new gardens every year or so. There are also a lot of insects to combat. The Indians grow tubers mainly and the best, sweetest, pineapples, and lots of different types of bananas. The main food is casava made from yucca, so the majority of their gardens are given to the yucca plant.

I wanted to try to raise tomatoes, green onions and peppers. I thought that just those three things would "spice" up so many of our plain meals!. As I waited for my seed order to get to the states and then back to me, I tried to prepare a compost. One morning, I found an Indian friend diligently "cleaning" up my compost area for me. Oh well!!!

Finally, the seeds arrived on the flight day! That evening I had sat at the table and sorted them all out into nice little piles, imagining all the good food we would have. I left the room for just a moment ,only to return and find several Indian children enjoying the "snack" they thought I had prepared for them! I often would make popcorn and place it on the table for the visitors to eat and the Indians would eat dried pumpkin seeds as a snack, so they assumed I had left it for them! Oh, well!!!

A few months later, I received my second order of seeds. I was much wiser now. No more sorting at the table. I guarded the seeds as if they were gold. I even managed to get my tomato seedlings started. What joy! I would set them out each day for the required sunlight.

The village was experimenting with raising sheep. They kept the sheep across the river, usually. No one told me, but they decided to bring the sheep over to the village side because a jaguar was killing them off over there on the other side.Well, you guessed it, the sheep assumed I had prepared a "snack" for them . They really seemed to enjoy my young tomato plants! Oh, well!

A few more months went by, and once again, I received my seeds, set the tomatoes , carefully guarded them from all 2 legged and four legged creatures. I had my husband clear a spot and build a small, low fence. You know, to keep out the sheep. I set out the young plants! I was very excited!

We had to leave the village for a few days and I asked a neighbor boy to water the garden since it was now dry season. He was excited to do it as I promised to bring him a treat from town for his work. And he did! He watered the garden faithfully.

The men of the village decided to burn off some jungle area. They burn off the areas around the village during dry season to keep snakes and critters away. Guess which area they burned? Yep! Bye, Bye garden!

When I returned the poor little neighbor boy was still trying to water the burned garden!

Ok, so I am not a quick study, it takes me awhile to figure stuff out, but after over a year trying to get a garden...I decided, maybe it wasn't going to happen after all!! Oh well!

My garden certainly never produced any vegetables, but I did cultivate something else. What, you ask?

Patience (Hope deferred maketh the heart sick!) and a good attitude when things don't go as I had hoped and planned !( Put away anger and strife) So I guess it was a success after all!

I miss them...

2011-09-26T12:42:00.002-03:00

Jungle Mom the absentee blogger

I miss the interaction I used to have on this blog. These days, I am lucky to have time to jot something new down on a fairly regular basis. There was a day when I would be able to visit many blogs and leave comments. This in turn meant that those bloggers would visit and do likewise.

Since moving to Ciudad del Este and begining a new church plant, I have not been able to get around to all the blogs I used to read on a daily basis. Also, since we are working with people here, I do not feel at liberty to write much about that or what we are doing in the ministry. I feel I should protect their privacy and I would not want them to think they are merely BLOG FODDER, so to speak. They are precious people that I enjoy interacting with and I am blessed to have them all in my life, but I wont be writing anything about them except in a very general way.

Which brings me back to the title of this post... other bloggers and their comments, I miss them! And I miss some commenters who do not have their own blogs but used to regularly leave comments here at The Jungle Hut.

People like: Z, The Beak, The Merry Widow, Papa Frank, Serendip, Speedy G, Big Girl Pants, and of course, all of my expat bloggers spread across the globe! I also miss the regular comments from people like Gringo who seems to get my sense of humor more than anyone else.

So, if you are out there reading this... how about a comment for old times sake? Or if you are a new reader, please introduce yourself!

Even feel free to ask a question about anything at all. Yes, anything at all, and I will do my best to give you an answer.

True Missionaries!

2011-09-25T15:01:00.003-03:00

Meet Simeon and Victor. These two men are Ye'kwana Christians. Victor is now the Pastor of the Good Hope Baptist Church and Simeon is a deacon at the same church. I would like to share with you some of their zeal in sharing their faith with their tribesmen.

Victor and Simeon had decided to take the gospel to a small village far up in the mountains. This village was so resistant to outsiders , they had purposely chosen to live in a difficult to reach area of the jungle. Victor and Simeon have family members living in this village and both felt responsible with taking their family the knowledge of Christ which has so changed their own lives.

Both of these men were reached by missionaries with the gospel as children. They had eagerly awaited some 25 years for a missionary to return to their village as they were now adults and had the desire to learn more. Both men were able to read in their language, thanks to missionaries! They were able to read the New testament in their own language, thanks to missionaries.

We were able to aid these two on their missions trip by giving them a lift in the Cessna to the closest airstrip to the village they intended to hike to. This allowed them to spend a few days preaching and teaching in the village with the airstrip as well, before heading to the more remote village.

From the village by the airstrip, the two men canoed for two days. At that point, they proceeded by foot, uphill, towards the village of their family members for another two days. For a non-indian, it would take at least three days!

Victor and Simeon found their family to be receptive and they were able to begin with some "pre-evangelism". This is the term we use to prepare an illiterate people with no understanding of the Bible for the gospel message. One must first begin by teaching through the Old Testament, to show our need for an atonement and redemption, leading up to the birth of Christ and His ministry here on earth. We call this the Chronological Bible Teaching . Basically, the goal is to help the "people walk backwards, in to the future".

After a month of daily teaching, the two Ye'kwana missionaries returned to the airstrip where there was a ham radio to allow for communication with us. We had planned to send the plane for them. Unfortunately, the Venezuelan government was not allowing us to fly at the time, by denying permits to purchase gasoline for the plane. This left Victor and Simeon stranded in the village for two more weeks. They used this time wisely by continuing with their teaching at the village.

After two weeks, they became concerned for their families left back in Chajudaña, who would be out of meat, and in need of hunters. The two decided to hike back home via an old hunting trail rarely used. By speaking with old timers, they received directions and were told it would take about three weeks to reach our village. The two set out into the jungle with no means of communication, no canoe, and only a machete and one shot gun with a few shells.

We eagerly awaited word of them. Finally they arrived. They had made a small rough raft on which they placed their hammocks, provisions, and weapons in order to keep them dry. They could not ride on the raft themselves or else it would sink. They were swimming along behind it and were very water logged! Both were very weak and had open sores on them from the rough trail and lack of nourishment, along with malaria!

They told us of the great joy they had in preaching to these villages that had never before heard the good news of the gospel. Believe it or not, they were anxious to return and preach more!

They had suffered hunger, sickness, and great discomfort, but they knew their suffering for a time here on earth would be worth it if they could reach some of their tribesmen for Christ. They also knew that Christ had suffered much more while bringing the message and way of Salvation to us all.

These two men may not look like missionaries to you, but they are the true un-sung heroes of the faith. No one will ever hear of them or their ministry. They will continue to be two indians from a small village in a small country. But they are the kind of men God uses to carry forth His word. They are akin to the men of the New Testament who went forth and spread the gospel so that, eventually , one day it reached ME!

Floors

2011-09-23T18:39:00.002-03:00

Before living in the jungle, I had never put much thought into the making or care of dirt floors. I assumed they would be care free! Not so.

The first few years in the village, we only had dirt floors. This is because the cost of flying cement out to the village by plane was very expensive. And then, the fact that all the sand and gravel had to be dug out of the river bed during dry season when the river is at its most shallow, carried up to the village and hand mixed with water which you also hand carry, bucket by bucket, slows down the process greatly.

So, dirt floors it was! When making a dirt floor, the first step is to dig down and level the floor as much as possible. Then, using water and a heavy tamp, you begin to pound away. You must use enough water to dampen the floor, without actually making mud. This process goes on for several days in each room.

After the floor is deemed 'finished', you may then begin to use the room. Dirt floors do need to be swept daily. Lint, thread, and other debris does accumulate just as on any floor. Each day the floor is swept with a handmade broom. Once all debris is removed, you sweep the floor yet again, this time adding water to the floor as you sweep.

This is to settle the dust which comes from walking on and sweeping of the floor. If you do not keep the floor dampened, it will turn to dust and everything in the room, including small children, will be dusty. The dirt is of a high clay content and leaves an orange stain on everything. I had orange feet for years!

Dirt floors do not show dirt, but it is amazing how trash, such as paper and such, will show up! The other problem with dirt floors is when you have accidents, such as spills. How to clean it up? There are many vermin and insects and if you leave anything organic, you will be overcome.

I learned this when we first arrived and our children were all still small. We all came down with malaria and had several bouts of vomiting. How do you clean that up? With a shovel! Then you bring in fresh dirt to fill in the holes.

I did learn that by occasionally adding kerosene to the water I used on the floors, I was able to keep many insects at bay.

We finally laid a cement floor in the main room after about a year and a half . It took us several days to carry up all the water we needed for the cement. We had been collecting the sand and gravel from the river for a few weeks and we were excited to finally lay the floor, by hand. What a job!

Once it was dry, we prepared a concoction for sealing the floor. I heated kerosene on the stove and melted candles into it. We then applied this while still hot to the floor. It worked great! I kept the floor polished by adding 1/4 cup kerosene to each mop bucket. Again, to fight the bugs as well as add shine.

We slowly added floors to the house and eventually added up our costs to be nearly $15,000 US! For rough, hand laid cement floors. The floors helped our children's health by cutting down on parasites and also the ever present "nigua".

A "nigua" is a small burrowing tick which lives in the jungle dirt. They especially like to burrow into the toes and even under the toe nails. They are barely visible to the naked eye, but once under the skin, the nigua lays an egg sack which grows and grows and grows... until the eggs hatch and all the new baby niguas begin to reproduce! Not fun. Neither is it fun to dig them out of the tender nail bed.

I once had to remove an entire nail of my toe to get to an egg sack under the nail. OUCH!!! And, of course, any opening in the skin is likely to become infected. So the floors, though expensive, were needed and greatly appreciated.We would eventually come to the point of feeling the small niguas before they even burrowed.

A new problem occurred when we laid the first floor. The Sanema chew tobacco. They keep a large plug of it under their lower lip at all times. This produces a green slimy spittle. The Sanema generally spit a lot! They spit out the nasty spittle. On my floors.On my walls. It was a constant source of irritation to me.

I finally had to come to accept it. I did keep a spray bottle of bleach and paper towels handy and taught them to clean it themselves. The bleach was also needed to clean up after the many diaperless babies that came to visit each and every day.

Needless to say, our only furniture was wood or plastic so that it could be cleaned and disinfected daily. I felt it was better to have things I did not mind them using, than to have nice things, but perhaps worry that it would be damaged. I did not want 'things' to come between me and the people I was there to serve.

On the other hand, I did feel it was wise to teach them what behavior would be expected of them by the Venezuelans in town. After gaining their confidence, I was able to teach them that spitting would not be acceptable in town. Nor would babies without diapers! Nor looking inside through windows...nor using yards as an out house... nor walking in unannounced ... nor burping loudly at the table...and many other activities deemed perfectly acceptable in their own culture.

My Dad's a doctor?? Sorta...

2011-09-22T11:54:00.000-03:00

My Dad, the doctor. Another re-post! from my oldest daughter, Jackie

She asked if my dad was a doctor.

Uhm...yes, well, kinda...maybe? Sorta.

Hm...I'll just start at the beginning.
When I was eleven we moved from a big city in Venezuela, Barquisimeto its called, to a small Indian village named Chajurana. It was a two hour plane trip. Not a big plane, a small one engine 206 Cessna. Like a sardine can with wings. We arrived in the village and began the long process of settling in. The bats didn't like that we were taking over their outhouse. And of course we didn't like going to the outhouse by ourselves. So who ever had to "go" also had to convince a younger sibling to accompany them.
Josh - "Hey! Jewel! You want to go to the out house with me?"
Jewel- "No."
Josh - "It will be fun!"
Jewel- "No, it will stink. The out house smells weird."
Josh - "Please???"
Jewel - "Uh...no."
Josh - "Uhm...Jayde! You want to go the out house with me??"
Jayde- "AAAA!! I hate bats!!!" (as she's running away....)
You get the point. Well, one day, right at dusk, the Ye'kwana nurse came to get my dad. He told my dad they needed his help. A little boy had shot an arrow into his shoulder. Could my dad help the men get it out? My dad was ecstatic to help, he grabbed his flashlight, because his idea of "helping" was holding the flashlight so they could see better while they pulled the arrow out. Wrong.

When they got to the small, smokey little hut one of the men handed my dad a scapel and said, "There you go." My dad asked them just what they thought he was supposed to do with a scapel. "Pull the arrow out."
"I don't know how to pull the arrow out. You're the nurse!"
"Yeah, but you're the missionary."
"So....?"
"All missionaries have to do medical stuff." Of course this conversation did not take place in English, it supposedly took place in Yekwana, which my dad knew very little of at the time. So for all we know the conversation that really took place was...
"Pull the arrow out"
"Hi! How are you? What is your name?"
"What? I asked you to pull the arrow out. Here's the scapel."
"We will be here for three months, and Jesus loves you."
"You missionaries get weirder and weirder."
Most of our early conversations in Yekwana went like that, and I must admit that my grasp of the language never really got past that point! ;-)
Long story short, my dad pulled the arrow out, and he was hooked. He loved medical work and went on to deliver babies,treat burns, stitch, pull teeth, etc. Just about anything you could think of, he could do. Of course his children did not put as much trust in him as the Ye'kwanas did. We were afraid to tell dad we had a toothache, cause he would want to pull it. Practice, he called it. We were not very excited about being his dental guinea pigs.
The Ye'kwana parents would threaten their kids..."If you dont behave, the missionary is going to give you a shot!" Ahh...the good old days. When penicillan could fix everything!

The Flavor of Words

2011-09-21T17:28:00.000-03:00

When one becomes bilingual or multi-lingual, a strange thing happens. Words begin to have flavor. Certain words just taste better when said in certain languages. That is the only way to describe it...flavor.

For instance, English is a great language for technical words and for teaching concrete matters.

Spanish, is very emotive, full of strong feelings.

Ye'kwana is for description. The words often sound like what they mean.

Because of this, our home is full of a mixture of all three languages. A sort of smorgasbord of vocabulary, if you will. Pick and chose whichever your taste buds are desiring.

Some of my favorite words in one language just don't have a good translation into the other. Yes, you can translate it's meaning, but not it's flavor!

For instance, in Spanish, 'Animado'. Sure, it means excited or motivated but, doesn't 'animado' taste sooooo much better????? ' Animado' has texture and sweetness...like cotton candy.

Or the Venezuelan , 'Na'guara', I mean...Na'guara just oozes excitement and wonder! So much more flavorful than ,"WOW!" It tastes like caramel candy that sticks around on your teeth for awhile and you pick at it all day.

And then in Yekwana, one of my favorite words is....

get ready....

"Töwödäjööque!"

That words just rumbles around in your mouth and explodes out!

"Töwödäjööque!"

It's a great insult because it is so funny sounding, no one could take it too seriously.
"Töwödäjööque!" means 'ugly'. But when you say it, it tastes like a mouth full of red hots!!!!

And the word, "Soto". It means 'people', but not just any people. It means 'us', the tribe. And it is such a proud sounding word, "Soto"! Like biting into a piece of dark chocolate! Sharp, bitter, and needs nothing added!

English has some great words as well. One that just makes me giggle is, "Somebody"! Imagine how that sounds to a non -English speaking person! "Somebody" tastes like sparkling cider, it's a funny sort of fizzy words!

The word "logic" sounds so...'logical'! Boring. But necessary for life...like plain bread.

And lately, a tasty word in my mouth has been..."Politics", that sounds like a string of fire works!
It has a spicy taste like curry, fine in moderation, but don't go overboard with it!

Which makes me think of 'Democrat" which has a soury taste...like sauerkraut!!! And smells up the kitchen too!

What about "Republican"? It sounds like something solid and traditional. Tastes like a sour dough bread to me. Tough and strong enough to spread some jam or butter on it without it crumbling!

And speaking of flavors, in the words of Emiril Lagasse ...

BAMMM!

You Are Cayenne Pepper

You are very over the top and a bit overwhelming.

You have a fiery personality, and you can give anyone a good jolt.

You can easily take things up a couple notches, no matter what crowd you're running with.

What Spice Are You?

I am wondering if any other bilinguals feel this way about words, and if so, how about a word 'tasting'?

Share some words from your language with us so we can all have a taste! (NO PROFANITY!)

Being a missionary is not my real job

2011-09-19T15:36:00.002-03:00

Thoughts for Missionary Wives

I am often asked what is a typical day like living on the mission field . It is a very hard question to answer. You must understand that every circumstance is different. The missionary's schedule will be dictated by the culture in which he works, the level of his language skills, the ministry role in which he has been placed, and even the missionary's personality.

Our days in the jungle were completely different than our days here in Paraguay. Both were full of ministry but ministering to our flock was different there than it will be here. We do not do any medical work here, we do not need to do translation work, but we still have a ministry.

A common misconception some people hold is in regards to what the role of the missionary wife should be. Wives on the mission field do indeed serve in various capacities, but their ministries will be different depending on several factors. How many children are in the home? Does she have small children? Does she need to home school the children? What are her living conditions? (Carrying water, cooking with fire wood, hand washing laundry do take time!)What help does her husband require of her? Her ministry will be ever changing as the dynamics of her home change. Since my decline in health and physical ability, my role has changed yet agian after so many years,

My job is to be the wife my husband needs, finish raising our children yet at home, which includes home schooling them, and if my husband needs me to serve in a capacity of ministry, I will do that as well. But, in my case, I am only a woman married to a missionary. Being a missionary is not my real job! I do not get paid to be a missionary nor do I punch a time clock. I am a stay at home wife and mother and I happen to live on the mission field.

As a child of God I do feel required to take part in christian service as is every other Christian where ever they may live. I have the privilege of enjoying my life as the wife of a missionary and I also feel fulfilled in my role as wife and mother. Serving my Lord on the mission field is just the icing on the cake!

I would like to be able to instruct younger missionary wives as to the role which they play on the field. Every woman is different and married to a different man. Every ministry will ask different things of different people, but the missionary wife must never feel guilty for putting her time and energy first into her family.

Some families are able to find adequate education for their children on the field and I am not assuming to know what may be best for another family, but even if your children are enrolled in a school your job as a wife and mother will still require much time. Some woman even need to have outside interests and ministry will fulfill this for her, but in balance. This time away from the home duties may allow you to came back refreshed.

The work of a home maker seems to always be more time consuming in third world countries. We do not have the option of packaged foods, fast foods, we do not have central air and heat to keep dust out of the home. We sometimes lack time saving appliances commonly found in the American home. Our electricity and water go out often which requires more work. Buying groceries and other supplies takes much more time as we do not have the convenience of a Super Wal-Mart with one stop shopping. Even paying bills takes a lot of time. We can not do it online or even mail in a check, we have to go stand in several lines to pay each one. Of course, that is after standing in line at the bank to change our money in order to pay the bills, all the while watching our backs to make sure we will not be robbed as we leave the bank, which happened to a lady here just a few weeks ago, shot dead in the parking lot for $2000 US Dollars. Sometimes our homes and cars are robbed and we have gun shots in the night. I have personally had my home invaded by armed military while my husband was away.

How many times have I seen women on the mission field break under the pressure she feels to perform more than she is capable of! This often leads to depression and even leaving the mission field. Perhaps, if the missionary wife would relax a bit and give herself the opportunity to be 'just another woman' this would not happen so often. Remember you are under extra stress just dealing with life in a new culture and and language.

To the younger wives I would remind you that your children will grow up and you will have more time available for ministry then. Never forget your people are observing you and the best testimony is for you to show them a Christian woman who is at peace and content.

I have known phenomenal women who were able to do it all! Sadly, I have known many who gave up, not feeling adequate to the job they assumed others expected of them. Often times this pressure comes from well meaning folks stateside who somehow think the wife of a missionary should be capable of more than any other woman. A Christian Super Woman with special powers! Personally, I think being able to sleep through gun shots flying over your roof is a Super Power! Some even think that the wife is an employee of the mission, which may be the case for some, but not all.

So dear younger missionary wife, don't forget to enjoy your life. Don't forget to be available to your husband as a wife, not an employee, put your best time and effort into your children, and serve God first at home. Remember you also need time to study and promote your own intellectual and spiritual growth as this will only serve you in your capacity as a counselor to others. And you will be a counselor!

God will always provide the right ministry for you that will not be more than you can handle. If you are stressing out, feeling pressured to perform, loosing joy in your marriage, or do not have control of your home and yet still try to be involved in ministry outside of the home, you are doing too much.

God does not want His children to serve out of duty alone but with a heart of joy. Service to Him will never require you to abandon your first calling to the home. If this is the case for you, perhaps you need to step back and re-evaluate what you are doing and where you are expending most of your energy. Plan a little time for relaxation and fun each and every day, it will only make you a better person.

Happy Birthday!

2011-09-17T15:28:00.000-03:00

Happy birthday to my oldest Grand daughter. Six years ago I was blessed to be in Costa Rica for her birth. She made me a proud Grand mother and I continue to be amazed at the beautiful person she is becoming,

The Gall bladder Christmas

2011-09-16T20:47:00.000-03:00

I believe it was December 2004... yes, it was the last Christmas we were in the jungle. We did not know then that we would be forced to leave before the next year ended, thanks to the decree of President Chavez.

My son, Josh, had flown from the states to spend Christmas with us in the jungle. We flew in the MAF Cessna out to Puerto Ayacucho, Estado Amazonas to meet him and to do our supply buying. All went well and we drove down to Puerto Ayacucho, about an 8 hour trip, on some of the worst roads in Venezuela. The next day we flew the 1 hour 30 minute flight back to Chajuraña

We were excited to fly home and get the tree up and spend Christmas together and with the church people! Lots of big plans and even fireworks for the village. The very next day, Saturday, I began to feel ill but enjoyed watching the children decorate the tree.

Sunday, after the morning service, I made our traditional Sunday lunch...homemade pizza! We always ate pizza on Sunday and had our 2 liter Coke for the week to go with it. Shortly after lunch, I began to feel much worse.

I ended up in bed and by early evening was having terrible pain in my chest. It felt a bit like an ice pick was sticking through me and all the way out the back between my shoulder blades! By early Monday morning, I was not only in pain but was also vomiting.

Clint asked if I wanted to be evacuated to the clinic, but I hated to ruin everyone else's Christmas! I seemed to be feeling a bit better by late morning. He did call the missionary pilots on the radio to let them know we might be needing a flight if I did not improve. There were to be 3 planes in our area the next day.

Late that night, I had even worse pain than before and actually felt a hard, tender protrusion just below my upper right rib. By now, we knew it was the gallbladder. That was the longest, most painful night I have even endured. I also began to pass blood. No pain meds seem to be helping much.

The next morning, Clint began to prepare for a medical evacuation. The problem was that our car was in Puerto Ayacucho and I did not want to have surgery in Puerto Ayacucho! I would not want my dog to have surgery in Puerto Ayacucho! But that was where two of the planes were headed. The other plane, a NTM, plane would be passing directly over us in the afternoon and then flying on to Puerto Ordaz, Estado Bolivar. My own doctor was in Puerto Ordaz and the medical care is much better there...but, they could only take two of us!

So...Clint and the girls ended up flying to Puerto Ayacucho to get our car, Josh and I stayed and waited for the Puerto Ordaz flight. The other pilot flying in the area, Dan Whitehead, did stop by and check on me as I was still in excruciating pain. I remember asking him if he could use his Leatherman All Purpose Tool and just take the gallbladder out then and there!

Finally, my plane arrived. Josh helped me down to the airstrip. I was unable to sit up, so we removed some seats and I laid on the floor of the plane. I never realized how many bumps our airstrip had until that take off! Our pilot was Stefan Pyle and he is still my hero!!

Josh had been given a hand made indian straw sombrero that he wanted to take back to the states for use while working construction in Florida, so he was wearing that. Remembering that our international insurance was not accepted at the clinic, Clint had already given him 3 million Bolivares as well. ($1000 at the time)

The New Tribe missionaries had arranged to have an ambulance waiting at the airport in Puerto Ordaz and a missionary friend met the plane as well. And we were finally off!!

Once in the ER everything went quickly and I finally got some pain relief!!! While I was getting sonograms and tests, Josh was left to register me. He says that they asked him names, etc. but then they asked for a street address....

"Well, we don't exactly live on a street..."
How about a phone number?...
"Uhhh.... you see... we don't have a phone..."
A neighbor's number then???
" No...none of our neighbors have a phone either..."

The poor office girl did not know what to do! She finally found a manager and Josh overheard her say she had "some strange campesino, gringo- in a sombrero" out front. Finally, they said they could not admit me into the clinic without any info, they would need to send me to the state run hospital.
Josh said, " But I have CASH!" Now, he was the campesino, gringo, RICO...in a strange sombrero!

(This is the same type of hat!)

Suddenly, they were able to admit me and find me a private room! Josh spent the night caring for me as Clint and the girls drove all night from Puerto Ayacucho to Puerto Ordaz. A terribly dangerous drive to make at night! Probably more dangerous than my gallbladder attack!

It seems that I had passed several gall stones before arriving, I remained in the clinic for 4 days. Thankfully, our missionary friends made sure that our family had a Christmas meal and a place to stay while I was hospitalized.

Thank God for good friends!

My Invisible Illness

2011-09-15T15:57:00.000-03:00

This is Invisible Illness Awareness Week

In light of that I have written out thirty things about my invisible illness that I would like to share with others.

30 THINGS ABOUT MY INVISIBLE ILLNESS YOU MAY NOT KNOW
"It is not in my head"

1. The illness I live with is: Degeneration of the spine, rheumatoid arthritis
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 1991
3. But I had symptoms since:spinal pain since my teens
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: learning to just say no and not feel guilty
5. Most people assume: I am fine
6. The hardest part about mornings are: that I don't feel rested and hurt so much. I have to make a decision that life is worth the pain of getting up to start another day.
7. My favorite medical TV show is: CSI , does that count?
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: hot water bottle in the winter
9. The hardest part about nights are: not really sleeping while everyone else is zonked out
10. Each day I take some meds and vitamins~ yes, and i know they have side effects that I will pay for later
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: have tried MANY to no avail and this is not something that will ever get better or just go away
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: glad I do not have a choice
13. Regarding working and career:I am thankful God has put me in a situation where I do not have to work outside of my home !
14. People would be surprised to know: Pain everyday is a fact of life for me, some days are harder than others, and it is easy to be depressed.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: my limitations in the home, with family and ministry
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: keep a happy spirit...most of the time :)
17. The commercials about my illness: I don't see them
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: being spontaneous, entertaining friends, accompanying my husband on road trips, playing with the grand kids more,
19. It was really hard to have to give up: saying YES to others
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: blogging and writing
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: take a long walk with my husband and go sky diving!
22. My illness has taught me: that I have no control over this illness or much of anything else I once thought I controlled.
23. Want to know a secret? It hurts when people make me feel guilty for not being able to do more or when they assume I am lazy. But most people are kind!
24. But I love it when people: Are compassionate and do not think badly of me when I am unable to do something we had planned
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: Improvise, adapt and overcome!
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: Take it one day at a time
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: how lonely it can be trapped in a painful body. It can not be shared with anyone.
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: Fix a meal for my family and clean my house.
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: People need to be aware of various invisible illnesses
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: like you are trying to understand

MY 21 year old daughter, Jewel, also has an invisible illness and decided to share about her illness as well.

30 Things about my Invisible Illness you may not know

30 THINGS ABOUT MY INVISIBLE ILLNESS YOU MAY NOT KNOW
"It is not in my head"

1. The illness I live with is: Hashimotos Autoimmune Disease
2. I was diagnosed with it in the year: 2011
3. But I had symptoms since: 2009
4. The biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is: being sure I do not over work my self or I can collapse
5. Most people assume: I am fine
6. The hardest part about mornings are: because of my disease it is hard to wake up and I am constantly exhausted even if I sleep for 12 hours
7. My favorite medical TV show is: ER
8. A gadget I couldn’t live without is: my alarm clock ( also my phone)
9. The hardest part about nights are: also because of my disease I have a low tolerance for cold, and my dorm room is freezing
10. Each day I take some meds and vitamins~ yes I also have to be careful about what I eat and drink. and the time between meds and vitamins
11. Regarding alternative treatments I: other than natural herbs and meds I can have a surgery
12. If I had to choose between an invisible illness or visible I would choose: I also have asthma, does that count as visible? I do know people can hear it!
13. Regarding working and career: I am a college students right now so I have to work on my studies and work a job but luckily my work is simple and on the school campus.
14. People would be surprised to know: every night before I go to sleep, as my body relaxes, I have small convulsions.
15. The hardest thing to accept about my new reality has been: I can't do every thing I want to do because it will cause harm to my body
16. Something I never thought I could do with my illness that I did was: Go to school, I was advised to stay home until I had my disease under control. I did not and I am in my last semester of college
17. The commercials about my illness: I have never seen any
18. Something I really miss doing since I was diagnosed is: I have to be more careful about physical activities that could give me an asthma attack because my meds for asthma damage my thyroid even more
19. It was really hard to have to give up: activities that took up too much of my physical strength
20. A new hobby I have taken up since my diagnosis is: becoming the activities director for Kappa Delta Chi
21. If I could have one day of feeling normal again I would: go camping/white water rafting/rock climbing all in one day
22. My illness has taught me:to be happy with God's will for my life
23. Want to know a secret?the Doctors first told me I may never have children, but thanks to God's mercy after several months of exams and testing,it has been decided that I can still have children. It will still be difficult and I will need doctors observation but it is possible
24. But I love it when people: understand and don't think I'm just lazy.
25. My favorite motto, scripture, quote that gets me through tough times is: Improvise, adapt and overcome!
26. When someone is diagnosed I’d like to tell them: remember that its not a death sentence it just means its going to be tough
27. Something that has surprised me about living with an illness is: it is a constant reminder of God's control over every aspect in my life
28. The nicest thing someone did for me when I wasn’t feeling well was: carried me to my room when I passed out in class,
29. I’m involved with Invisible Illness Week because: People need to be aware of various invisible illnesses
30. The fact that you read this list makes me feel: like you are trying to understand!

Personal Space

2011-09-14T14:38:00.003-03:00

People, people, everywhere!!!

Jungle Mom entertaining friends.

You are never really alone. Not in an indian village. There is no concept of "personal space". Actually, the Ye'kwana language does not even have a true translation for "privacy" or "being alone" as a positive thing. The translation is a negative, like "lonely". Something sad. Something to be avoided. Something dangerous, as being alone is an invitation to the evil spirits to come and attack you. Especially "Canaima"(the death angel) who flies around at night, looking for some poor soul who is alone. Canaima will set in and give that person a beating and death within 3 days. That is why no one would ever think of walking around the jungle alone, even to go down the path to the river alone is risky.

I share all of this, so that you can understand how different the culture is in regards to privacy. We had NO privacy. Our home was always open, and often full of people. We even had indians standing around looking in our windows most of the time. Especially at night. Our house had large windows to afford us with light and cross ventilation. But with our lights on at night, we were watched by the entire tribe. We were their entertainment, " Live, in Technicolor and Surround Sound". Even in the house, under the palm roof, with no inside ceilings, what was said in one room was heard through out the entire house.

Being very aware that our entire lives were under scrutiny, we had to discipline ourselves at every moment. Even when speaking English or Spanish, our body language, facial expressions, and reactions were all being watched. They wanted to see how a christian re-acted to things, we needed to show them patience, love, gentleness...self control. Christ in us.

My husband and I learned to not show our irritation with each other in public, and we were always "in public". If an issue came up that absolutely had to be "discussed" in private, that meant, going to the river, getting in a canoe, paddling for 10 to 15 minutes to get out of hearing range from the village, in order to have a private discussion.

Frankly, not many things are worth that effort! By the time you get done paddling, you don't have the energy to argue. Or it no longer seems important enough, you may even forget what had annoyed you to begin with, or, you find yourself alone and don't want to waste that precious privacy in anger!

I think every married couple ought to buy a couple of rowing machines and make a rule that before responding to one another in anger, you both have to row for 15 minutes!

Sins of the Past and Present

2011-09-12T18:39:00.000-03:00

I love my country! I am not ashamed to proclaim it as the best place on earth. I am not embarrassed to boast of its great history or the many wonderful things our nation has accomplished which have made our country the desired home of so many immigrants.
We have been a role model to which many freedom desiring people have aspired to.

This does not erase the wrongs to which we have also contributed. This in no way means we as a nation do not have much of which to lament in our history. I dare say, we, having been given so much, may very well have more to regret than many others. All nations have failings. All governments tend to preserve self interest as that is the basic purpose of a national government. All government is made up of fallible humans who will and do commit errors and misjudgments and at times even knowingly side with evil in the hope of peace for the moment. History shows us this is so and we can not deny it, thus has it been, and thus shall it be as long as mere men are involved in decisions of such magnitude. Until the end of time.

When I consider the regrets we as a nation hold in regards to our internal affairs, the one which stands starkest in our collective memory is the horror of slavery. Although we certainly did not invent the institution of slavery, as it has existed since the dawn of time, and even though it is known that the African tribes themselves were slave holders, this does nothing to take away the responsibility our ancestors brought on themselves by earning their livelihood at the expense of this inhumane practice.

Our country fought this battle for centuries. Many may not realize that much of the conflict involved with the ratification of the Constitution over the pre -existing Articles of Confederation was in great part caused by this very thing. Slavery was already dividing our country and in order to maintain a United States, compromises were made.

However, as history always reveals, compromises rarely solve an issue of such magnitude for long. Skeletons will come out of the closet and confront us later if not properly dealt with now. These temporary compromises led to the Civil War. The over riding purpose of the war was to enable the states to keep their rights but was fueled by the passions of men on both sides of the slavery issue. Many a young American man went to the battleground in order that other men, black men, might be freed. This was the first necessary step towards redemption of our nation in regards to this national sin.

These brave men chose to fight and not only confronted death and war, they were going against an institution many thought was vital to the future economical stability of our country. We should all salute them for their bravery of confronting this terrible act and wiping it from our country's boundaries.

No one would be foolish enough to declare that equality was immediately granted and felt by the newly freed slaves, but it was a necessary step towards that hope. Shortly, others would take up the fight and even black people were now free to promote their own agendas and unite in this common cause which led to the civil rights movement many of us remember from our youths.

The fact is, things have changed for the better. Not just for the betterment of the black citizen, but for those of us who are identified as white. We can feel a sense of relief in knowing that what our ancestors promoted is not acceptable any longer. We can see that a black man is now our highest earthly authority. More changes on the personal level need to be made but sadly, humans tend to behave badly towards others who are different. This crosses all spectrum of race and creed. This type of prejudice is not native to the American and is practiced across the globe and has been through out all history. But here, and now,we have seen a difference and we have every right to acknowledge it as an achievement!

The second largest disgrace I would lay at the feet of our nation is the terrible treatment dealt out to the American indians. While the exploration and conquering of nations has ever been and will ever remain a necessary process in the progress of mankind, and was also practiced by the American indian, in our case, it was often done with great deception and falsehoods in regards to the American indians.

The tribes were by no means innocents that went meekly to their deaths as a lamb to the slaughter! No, these brave and noble people fought and defended their territories many times to the very last man, woman and child. They had every right to do so and they did it against great odds and most valiantly! This warrior spirit was beheld by the new Americans and became an integral part of our national character. The Englishmen beheld in the American indian societies a freedom they had never experienced in Europe and I think this observation became a mind set among the newer generations of Americans as something admirable and worth fighting for just as the indians had done.

The colonist admired the freedom of the individual as seen in the American indian. They observed among the tribes, the right of council ,where every citizen could sit at the feet of the chiefs and rulers and take part in their civil decisions. This was not the case for the average European of common ancestry. They were at the whim of their authorities, taxed and ruled without even the right of representation, for the most part.

I honestly feel that our early Americans learned this love for local politics from the tribes with which they interacted. This would explain why so many a colonist would often 'go native' and join the tribe. The lifestyle of the American indian offered more individual freedom. This would become a hallmark of the American experience.

I do not hold against our ancestors the need to conquer lands which was done through carnal warfare. That is how it is accomplished. They were fighting for their future against a people fighting back for their own future. What I do acknowledge as a national disgrace is what came later.

The time of the Indian Removal is a blight upon our history. We tricked, cheated and lied to a , by then civilized people, in order to steal their property. Plain and simple. The removal of the Cherokee tribe to Indian Territory on what became known as the Trail of Tears should be remembered with grave humility.

We must not fall into this trap of the early Americans who offered up treaties without realizing the cost in the future when the circumstances would change. The new realities of a growing nation would force them to break their word with the tribes over and over again. We must not do this yet again when confronting global situations where a present withdraw or treaty will only need be revisited later by our children. Compromising with the enemy now will not guarantee peace in the next decade.

The Civilized Nations of the American indians overcame this mistreatment in a remarkable way. A way which other peoples in other places could learn from. For the most part, the American indian, while holding to his tribal culture, learned also to identify himself as an American citizen. They became loyal to the country which behaved badly towards them.

Many have taken up arms in time of national crisis to defend our nation from external enemies even providing vital services which they alone could perform. I am reminded of the incredible skill of the indian code talkers of WWII. Even this week I read a story of a young Cherokee, an American Marine, returning from Iraq where he served our country with valor. He was welcomed home by the tribe with great honor, as should be.

Certainly, some people of the tribes have failed at overcoming the welfare mentality to which many have grown accustomed ,to their own detriment. But the many others, the ones who have united with our nation, gained an education and contributed to our society, are an example to us all.

And lastly, the next blight upon our national reputation must be the present day massacre of the unborn. The unborn is today what the black man and the indian were in times past. An inconvenience deemed expendable. A 'being' which can be removed without remorse or guilt. Even stripped of their humanity, made to be less than a person to salve our consciences as we commit atrocities upon them. Science and medicine would have us believe the unborn child is but a mass of tissue invading the mother's body. The mother, we are told, can legally exercise her right over her body and remove the unwanted child, the 'punishment' ,some have even called the unborn child. This in no way makes it true or less disturbing.

Yes, the elitist have once again convinced themselves that this is a difficulty which can be dealt with in order to make our lives easier. Though sad, they say there is no wrong in ending the life of the unborn if it is for the betterment of yourself, or necessary for meeting your own needs and even wants. If the unborn is blocking your path to success or a deterrent to your economical welfare, by all means, remove it! The unborn can be merely, wiped away.

Shamefully, we know that many a Christan Southern slave owner convinced himself that the black man was somehow less than human. The leading educators and scientist of the day declared this to be so, and who should question science? Society aided this Christian in his obvious denial of reality, by believing that due to his personal need for the free labor of the black slave, he was not guilty of an atrocity by owning another human. He patted himself on the back as only doing what was accepted by others as necessary for the country and , after all, it was legal.

How many Christian citizens of the State of Georgia allowed themselves to think that the Cherokee Nation, a civilized people who upheld the treaties they had made, needed to be removed from their ancestral lands which had been promised to them by more than one treaty? Yes, the indian needed to go, to make way for the Christian man and his family to have a better life.

Th indian needed to be sent out of sight, not to be thought of again, so that the State of Georgia could raffle off the Cherokee farms and properties to needy white families. It is what the nation needed, and once again, the Christian folk allowed themselves to consider their needs of more import than the wrong being done to another. Society told them it was for the betterment of all, perhaps the indian would suffer, but their loss would make way for the nation to gain that which could enrich them personally.

And today, I am appalled to know that many of my fellow Christians have once again allowed themselves to be convinced that voting for a pro-abortion presidential candidate was somehow acceptable. Many a Christian voter says that one should not vote for one issue. Oh, the unborn will be killed no matter, but my vote will help other causes. The Christian Obama voter has convinced himself that abortion and the unborn are not his concern because the new President has offered him something he needs, free health care, perhaps. Help on a mortgage, free college education for his own children...so a few million more babies will be murdered with out mercy in the womb. Our nation has greater needs at the moment, and so do I.

The economy is in crisis and somehow justifies the naive thought that an Obama campaign promise will fix this. Yes, he said he would appoint liberal judges who will interpret the law in such a way that will promote the slaughter of more innocents, but many a Christian voted for this man, knowing this to be so, all in the hopes that he would bring them a better personal financial situation.

They knew Obama supported partial birth abortion, which is late term torture for the 'partially born'. Piercing the head and chopping the brains of the innocent victim! But this is deemed acceptable because the elites have once again convinced us that the unborn is not a human. And to salve our seared consciences we invent reasons for voting for this butchering by declaring that an Obama presidency will stop the torture of the murdering terrorists held in Guatanamo! And Obama will free them! We are saints indeed! Forget the millions of murdered, innocent babies, we have to stop the atrocity of a terrorist possibly being water boarded!

Just as the Christians of the past had to face the reality of their personal sin in regards to the evil of slavery, the despicable treatment of the American indian, we today must come to terms with the absolute horror of abortion many of us have enabled to not only continue , but to expand in this election!

The early Christians were persecuted and even died in defense of their faith, but we... we sold our souls. And for what? Universal health care? Economic gain? Or worse yet, mere platitudes offering vague promises of 'hope' and 'change'?

Janus the Great

2011-09-12T14:31:00.000-03:00

She just keeps growing! Here is Janus, our Great Dane, at almost 6 months.

Student Project Portrays 9/11 Testimony of American Airlines Pilot | Bob Jones University

2011-09-11T22:29:00.000-03:00

Student Project Portrays 9/11 Testimony of American Airlines Pilot | Bob Jones University

Where were you ??

2011-09-11T13:31:00.000-03:00

Here's my 9/11 story. I was in the jungle, where were you?

I remember that day. We were in the jungle and had just completed a very intense medical clinic among the indians, both Ye'kwana and Sanema. We were hosting, in our jungle hut, two missionary families as well as 8 medical missionaries who had come on a short missions trip, doctors, nurses, pharmacists and dentists. Just some regular Christian folk trying to do some good for the poor and underprivileged of this world, as taught by our Lord.

The clinic ended on September 10th, and the 11th was travel day for the Americans to return, via 3 mission planes, to the town of Puerto Ayacucho where they would catch a flight to Caracas and then on to the US.

We awoke and had breakfast as planned and began the job of weighing everyone and their luggage to decide how best to disburse the weight among the three planes as we could only take off from our short airstrip with a limited cargo.

The first MAF plane arrived early as planned and the pilot came up to the house where we talked over the planned flights for the day. He and my husband then began to prep the flight for a cargo only flight. As he taxied to the end of our airstrip to prepare for take off, he placed his radio call into the mission base at Puerto Ayacucho for flight following. He slowly taxied back and began to walk up the hill towards our house.

He entered the house where we were all laughing and joking about our week. He was white and shaky and said," The US is under attack! Two planes have hit the Twin Towers and one has hit the Pentagon!"

We all stared at him in disbelief! How could this be? He said he needed to sit and get himself together before he tried to take off.

We all began talking. We had no TV, no radio, except the hamm radio, no way to find out any information.We called Puerto Ayacucho by radio to see if they had more news for us and were told of the plane in Pennsylvania. They also told us that all air traffic was closed down in the states. Our American friends became very uncomfortable when as they realized they could not get home!

I remember wondering how I could continue to feed so many people indefinitely...I put water on to boil for some pasta not knowing how many people I would need to feed or for how long.

The visitors became very upset at not being able to communicate with their family and friends and we decided to continue with the plan to fly them all to Puerto Ayacucho where they would at least be able to phone home.

As we waited for all the flights, one of the visiting doctors, a Lebanese-American, listening to all of our consternation at this vile attack on our country, said, "Welcome to the real world!" Her comment was not well received by all at the table, but she had a point! She told us how as a child growing up in Lebanon, her family said good bye every morning not knowing if they would ever see one another again. She was raised as a Christian in Lebanon and terror was a part of her daily life. She said we, Americans, needed to ,"Grow up!" She was right.

We ended up having 5 planes land and take off from our strip that day. I remember Clint looking at me as the last one took off and saying, "Do you realize we just had more flights here than in the entire US today?" We would not see video of the towers falling for 2 more weeks. I remember thinking of the obvious differences between radical Islam and Christianity that day. Here we were trying to spread aid and comfort and the Islamic terrorists were spreading death and destruction.

The Things I See...

2011-09-09T14:57:00.001-03:00

Would you buy chicken here?

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

2011-09-06T15:19:00.000-03:00

Another one of those things that may not have been such a good idea after all...

("This is a work of fiction - any resemblance to actual persons
living or dead is purely coincidental...maybe".)

After leaving the jungle, we were still under investigation by the authorities. Sometimes this involved having our phone tapped. We had been warned of this and sometimes, you could hear a machine click on and occasionally, even breathing and other background noises.

We had nothing to hide and did not discuss anything private over the phone, certainly not with our lawyer. Even so, it was very irritating.

So... we embraced the situation. If I ever had a toddler in the house I would let them speak, and babble and sing to their hearts content over the phone.

Or, read scripture passages for long stretches!

Give the official listening in the 'Plan of Salvation".

Speak in PIG LATIN!!! Oday ouyay eakspay igpay atinlay???

Our favorite, when calling one another, from the market or some such place, was to speak in Ye'kwana! This is best done in low, grave voices. Oh the evil codes they must have thought we had invented! They may have assumed we were discussing the evil empire and it's plans to dominate, but we were really just discussing what items we needed from the market. Hee, hee!!!

But the most important thing of all is to speak to the officer listening in. Say "Hello, how are you? Are you having a nice day?" If asking a question to the person with whom you are conversing, ask the official what he thinks, "SO, dear official of the day, should he bring home chicken or fish for dinner? We'll have plenty so you all can come by as well! "

And, be nice! You know, like before you hang up say ,"I am not expecting anymore phone calls this evening so why don't you just go ahead and rest now, or get a coffee".

And being a good Venezuelan family, we even ended with, "Bendición?" !

Ways to Worship God

2011-09-04T15:01:00.000-03:00

From LIVING WITH POWER, Lina Abujamra

1. Worship God in your Giving. Hey when was the last time you were moved to tears as you put that check in the offering plate? I remember cringing a few times. I even remember trying to justify skipping it. But I barely remember on one hand the times I cried while giving to the Lord. In 2 Corinthians 9:6-13 Paul is clear about this: Giving is your worship offering to the Lord. So if you cry next time you put your check in the plate, the ushers may look puzzled, but God will get it!

2. Worship God in your Serving. Did you know that God loves a servant’s heart? He loves it so much He proved it by calling His Son a servant. In Mark 10:45 it says that “For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” In Philippians 2:7 its says that Jesus “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant”. Jesus didn’t become a worship leader in human form. He didn’t play the guitar, the keys or the drums. But He was an expert servant. So, this Sunday, if all you’re going to do is serve in the nursery, take joy in it. You are being just like Jesus.

3. Worship God in your Loving. Love identifies the follower of Jesus Christ. In Matthew 22:37 Jesus teaches us that the first commandment is to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind (that’s a worship song too I believe!). Jesus immediately follows it with “and the second is like it: you shall love your neighbor as yourself”. How’s your worship in the love department going for you? I find that the more I get to know people, the harder it can be to love them. And that’s when loving them is a true act of worship to the Lord. That kind of love is supernatural and freeing. I hope you have it.

4. Worship God in your Obedience. One of the main points of going to church is to listen to God’s word being taught. Of course, if you know and don’t do, you’ve missed the whole point. But when you obey God’s word, you reveal that you believe Him, and His word. So…do you? Do you believe God? Nothing says worship louder than obedience. Are you obeying in the big things as well as the small ones too?

It seemed like a good idea at the time...

2011-09-02T12:14:00.000-03:00

This is my friend ,Theda Dawson, in front of a Mission Aviation Fellowship plane

on the air strip in the village where she lived and worked at the time.

I was reminded by another missionary, Theda Dawson, of the time I had a root canal in her jungle home. That's right, a root canal in a mud and stick house with a palm roof in a Yanomamo village. You see, a dentist was visiting from Puerto Rico and he offered to do it for free. I needed it, he offered, so...

I sat myself down in the middle of a room full of half naked indians, chewing tobacco and spitting it on the floor as they chattered on. They spoke Guiaca, so I had no idea what they might be saying.

It went quite well, considering. I did not have too much pain and after the root canal we loaded up in a speed boat and headed down river to a Ye'kwana village where we would spend the night. I did fine until night when the Novocain wore off. I spent the night in my hammock tossing and turning which kept everyone else up. In a jungle home built of poles which are all tied together, when one persons swings his hammock, the poles shake and everyone swings with them, others are not always appreciative!

The next day we loaded up in a Cessna, piloted by a missionary friend, to fly to the relative civilization of Puerto Ayacucho. As we began to climb to gain elevation...I knew I was in BIG trouble. The higher we climbed, the more pain I was in. Tears began to squeeze out of my eyes and I began to bang on the door repeatedly in pain.

That was when I learned that one should not travel in an unpressurized plane immediately after major dental work. My tooth began to grow! and GROW! AND GROW! It was so big it was about to explode and take my head with it!

Eventually, I was able to make the pilot hear me and he tried to fly as low as possible. Unfortunately, the mountain ranges refused to lower themselves and we had to climb repeatedly to cross them. I began to consider the possibilities available for constructing a parachute and taking up sky diving.

About that time, I heard another pilot talking on the radio. He had a young indian girl on his plane headed to the same town. She was having complications with her labor and needed an emergency flight to the hospital. I could hear her screaming in the back ground. Poor thing! After hearing her, I refused to scream, but I did cry and kept right on banging that door. It probably still has a dent in it...

As we neared town, we descended to land and the pain also became less intense. Even so, I went straight to the pharmacy for some pain medication and I never flew again for at least 3 days after I had any dental work, even just a cleaning!

I hate dental work under normal circumstances, and I can not recall why I would have decided to go through a root canal in one sitting, no x-ray machines, in a jungle hut. Maybe one of the witch doctors cursed me to have a lapse of judgment.? Or maybe I was just a poor missionary who really needed free dental work?

Whatever the reason, it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Happy Birthday!

2011-08-31T01:44:00.000-03:00

Today my youngest daughter turned 17.

Happy Birthday, Jayde!

Daughters are a lot like flowers.

They add beauty to your life but they also attract a lot of pests!

The BIG Move.

2011-08-28T21:01:00.001-03:00

Yes, I am moving again. Tomorrow we are moving into a house we have been blessed to be able to purchase. We are so excited to finally have a place of our own. We are buying the house from another American couple who built it in an American style, including a basement! My favorite part is the laundry chute!

The owners are practically giving us the house as they wish to see it being used by missionaries. It is a four bedroom house with a large open kitchen/dining/living room just perfect for entertain , which we do often!
It has a two car carport made of palm leaves which reminds us of our many years living in a palm roof hut in the jungle. The house does need a lot of repairs including a complete re plumbing of the entire water system.

Rejoice with us as we enjoy this blessing!

The deer god

2011-08-27T15:56:00.001-03:00

One of our concerns in the jungle was making sure we had enough protein in our children's diet. In the early years, before the solar panels, generators and battery powered refrigerator, we were constantly searching and trading with the Indians for fresh meat and fish.

One meat that the Indians were usually interested in trading with us was liver. Deer liver and tapir liver. We were glad to get it! We always pretended it was STEAK! The most yummy, prized, sought after cut of meat in the jungle! OH ,yes, my children, you get to eat LIVER! Poor children in America rarely have this opportunity! Aren't you all lucky! WOO HOO!

Since my kids were really isolated in the jungle...the ruse worked! They all ate liver with gusto! But our favorite was deer liver as it was more tender.

One day, Jorge arrived and asked if we liked liver. My husband assured him that we liked liver very much. Then, dear hubby said, in very clear Ye'kwana, " We love to eat deer liver! Our children all love to eat deer liver. Can we buy or trade for some of your deer liver????"

Jorge, opened his eyes and repeated, "Deer liver?"

Hubby says, "Oh yes! We would be glad to trade whatever you might need, for some of your deer liver for our children."

Unfortunately, the Ye'kwana word for 'DEER' is 'CAWAADI' and the Ye'kwana word for 'GOD' is 'WANAADI'. Very similar to a new language learner.

My husband had been asking to purchase a bit of 'God's' liver for our children to eat!

Wanaadi...Cawaadi.. God ...deer... a big difference

Jungle Mom for President

2011-08-26T19:10:00.001-03:00

(a re-post from the last election cycle.)

I post this again as we are still WAITING FOR CHANGE!

Since I have recently received so many endorsements, I have decided to not only run for president but to create a new political party! I figure I may be able to get as many delegates as Ron Paul!

I will call my party 'Mom Knows Best'.

While contemplating what will be the platform of my party, I have relied upon all the decisions and skills any mother uses in a given day. The goal is to protect the family, provide for the family needs, save some money, and raise some independent kids!

So, here it is! The 2012 'Mom Knows Best" political party platform!

Protect the Family
As a parent I take my job of protecting my children very serious. Don't you? I mean, come on, if I even suspect that someone or something is going to be a danger to my children, I get out there and take care of the situation first! I don't wait to see if it will cause harm to the kids, I don't ask my neighbors permission, I do not take a poll, and I certainly don't fret about whether or not it is politically correct. Nope! I just do what has to be done!

In Venezuela I learned that in order to protect my family, I needed a BIG, TALL Wall! All around my property. I also needed weapons, bigger than the malandros! (Thugs) The walls were not to keep out my friends. Anyone invited was welcomed! The wall was to keep out undesirables and the uninvited . Basically, anyone who might do us harm.

SO... America needs walls! And guns!!! Simple!

Provide for the Family

We as parents do our very best to meet the needs of our children and even provide for their wants. We work hard, save and spend wisely to do this. It would be immoral for us to incur debts with the intention of leaving it for our children to deal with after our deaths. We may give to charity and the community, but only after first meeting the needs at home. We certainly can not give to others if we have needs at home.

Also, we raise our children so that they will eventually take care of their own needs. We do not provide for them indefinitely. When they are mature, they are able to work for their own dreams and goals. We may choose to help them at times, but they must be capable to live on their own. After all, I am going to die one day!

And, by the way, If I have a need in my home, I do not go and purchase it from my enemies just because it's cheap! Especially if I already can provide what I need. I mean, would you go buy gas from a local gang member if you had a few barrels stored in your garage!?!?! Open up our own oil fields NOW!!! Start building nuclear power plants NOW!!! Stop buying form the jihadist NOW!!! Stop buying from Chavez NOW!!!

So...America needs to meet the needs of its citizens first. Jobs at home, first. Provide for our military, first. Then give generously to those who need help.

At home, when the checkbook says '0', it means, '0'! I can not spend anymore! I need to tighten the belt, cut spending, do without some things, whatever it takes to get by, but,'0' is '0'! No matter how much I would like, the local grocer will not give me food without money. I can't go and make photocopies of money either! I can not write a check without funds! Imagine!

So...congress needs to understand this! You can not spend what you do not have! You do not accumulate debt and leave it for the next generation! Cut costs, limit spending, do whatever it takes to balance the budget. Start by allowing the citizen to keep more of his own money. If the citizen can meet his own needs, he will be more generous towards others. He may even 'hire' a few of them to work for him with the extra money. And do not print money with out funds!

Oh and... get rid of welfare! Teach the citizen to meet his own needs. Do not reward bad behavior. In the case of the truly needy, people will feel much more generous than they do now if they are allowed to keep more of their own hard earned dollars. As it stands, we see many people living on the dole who could work. We work! So should they. Simple really, no more subsidized couch potatoes!

Create Independence

As soon as able, each child should be allowed to contribute to the care and keeping of the family. This creates a spirit of collaboration, the feeling of worth, and a good work ethic for the future.

So... in our communities we need to allow the citizen to use his skills in providing for the needs of the community. Government needs to get out of the way of the innovative, entrepreneurial spirit. This will create jobs locally. These people will feel free to take risks, compete and create! Especially if they will get to keep their money!

Our children need to feel the stability of the home, the security of family in order to give the same to the community. Children reared in such an environment will be qualified and eager to compete globally. They will dare to be the best! They will keep our economy strong. They will invent and create new technology. However, if we provide everything except an education, then they will stay home and play on their xbox! Just like our teens at home. No schoolwork, no xbox! Thats what mom says anyway...

Moms make sure kids are safe, secure, and comfortable. Then we do the best with what we have. So should America. Prepare our children by allowing for parental choice in education. Allow for less taxing so that the family has more funds to invest in their own future. And by the way, Obama, I think young adults can work their own way through college! I think it would be good for them to have to do that! They might appreciate it more then! I mean, we already provide free High School education and look at how much they appreciate that!

Protect the Marriage

Nature itself shows us that marriage can only function between a male and a female. I have often wondered why people who believe in evolution and survival of the fittest don't see this as an endorsement for traditional marriage! Good grief! What are we doing? Trying to make ourselves extinct!

Protecting Life

Each life is valuable and should be protected. Period. The only life that can be forfeited is in the case of a danger to society. The murderer forfeits his own life, we do not 'take' his life. No, it is the criminal who 'forfeits' his own life. This is also true in war. The state has the duty to protect the citizen. Should an enemy chose to forfeit his life by fighting in a war...well, it's his choice. HA! I guess I am pro-choice after all!!!

And , uh, speaking of war... whenever possible, I as a mom, usually allow my kids to handle their own disagreements. If I see a child in danger from another person, then ,yes, I will intervene. When adults choose to disagree, I do not get involved, unless it is a clear and present danger to me, my family, or our belongings. Governments call this 'interests'. We do not need to be the world's police man, but we have every right to protect our interests.

Religious Freedom for All

Even politicians. Yes, they should be allowed to have faith too. I find it odd that all the ruckus was raised at Christmas about Huckabee's add that had a bookshelf which vaguely resembled a cross in the background. Duh? We are a Christian nation. Duh? He is a Christian! But the odd part is that each of the Democrat's candidates openly give speeches in churches and no one says a word.
But, yeah, everyone has the right to believe as they wish unless or until, their beliefs effect the liberty or well being of another.

History teaches us that this nation was founded on Judeo-Christian beliefs. That is part of what has made us the great nation we are today. The moment we turn our backs on those principles we become just another country. Like those of Europe. But without the USA there to save us from ourselves!

So, there it is ! The 'Mom Knows Best" platform!

Thank you!!! Thank you!!!

The Things I See...

2011-08-25T13:08:00.000-03:00

At the super market, they sell everything but the 'squeal'.

The Family of God in action.

2011-08-23T16:33:00.001-03:00

Friend Jim was in Paraguay, South America, with a small project team from Wycliff in an indian village. On July 4, he fell off the roof and suffered a severe head injury. He was taken to a hospital in Ciudad del Este. A group of expats pulled together to help him until his daughter was able to come and he was well enough to travel back to the US for extended care.

None of us even knew Friend Jim before his accident but we are all so grateful to see the improvement of our 'brother'. His daughter is allowing me to share these photos my blog since so many of you were praying for him.

Friend Jim on his 73rd Birthday. I am sure he has had better.

Clint helping and translating for Friend Jim.

A South African friend and daughter, english speakers, who stayed with Jim at night.

The Queen and Prince Charming, my British friends! They cared for Friend Jim and received his daughter into their home while here. They used their knowledge of this city to much improve his care and treatment!Their car was stolen from the hospital parking lot while staying with Friend Jim. They are two people who truly make a difference in this world.

Daughter Dawn arrived and had her own method of comforting Friend Jim who was confused and often tried to 'escape'. Can't say I blame him, considering!

An American Paramedic came down to accompany Friend Jim

and his daughter back for the long flight home.

Look at Friend Jim now...having coffee with friends!

and walking over 450 steps at a time!

He is receiving physical therapy daily and has a long way to go for full recovery. I am so glad to see the progress of my 'brother' Jim. It was a blessing to see the family of God come together to care for him in his hour of need.

I am so glad I am a part of the Family of God!

The World

2011-08-22T13:19:00.000-03:00

Jayde wearing her traditional Ye'kwana face paint.

When you live in a small, closed community, such as an indian village, it is easy to lose touch with the larger world. The universe contracts and becomes the space you occupy and the people you see daily.

As an outsider and an adult, I still found this would happen to me occasionally, but for my children it could become normal for them to think the world revolved around our little village. The other villages along our river were 'foreign' like other countries even, and town, where Spanish was spoken, was down right alien. The strangest of all would be the 'gringo' people who would appear in our world from time to time.

Once, when my youngest daughter was but a toddler, we found ourselves in the village for a longer stretch than normal. We had not left the village in over 6 months and in the mind of a toddler, that was forever.

About that time a North American man and his grown son decided to fly out and visit us. When they arrived we were quite happy to visit and chat with them in English. They stayed with us for several days and were very kind and generous to our children. They had brought them coveted books and goodies from the US, so the kids were thrilled to have them as visitors.

Except for the baby.

She seemed very upset the first few days. Although normally a bubbly, out going child, she withdrew and became shy, even rude to the guests. After one meal where she refused to speak with the gentlemen, I had to take her aside and try to figure out her problem.

She began to cry and informed me that these men were speaking 'our' language! How did they know 'our' language? They we not 'our' family! Who had taught them to talk like us? Of course, this was all expressed in the vocabulary of a 3 and a half year old.

I was floored! My blond, blue eyed child thought that our family alone spoke the English language! She felt threatened that strangers, who looked a lot like us, could waltz into her life and communicate intimately with us in our family's private language! Her entire world view had been shaken, she was insecure in who she was and where she fit into the big picture.

Because of this, we learned that we had to make an effort to leave the village fairly often, every two to three months, and spend a few weeks out of the jungle and away from the tribe so that the children would not get over whelmed with the outside world. Even so, we still had times when the children would come up with something that totally blew our minds as parents.

Such as when I was teaching my daughter about the US flag and that each state was represented by its own star. She wanted to know which star represented our village.

Another daughter was learning map skills and I was called away for a few moments. I handed her a piece of chalk and asked her to draw a map of the world while I was out. Our school room had untreated cement floors, so I used the floor as a work space for the kids to do their drawings, spelling words, and even math drills.

When I returned, she had covered the floor with an amazingly accurate map of the world.

Her world.

In other words, the village.

The World

Bury my Heart

2011-08-21T13:32:00.002-03:00

(From Living out a Missionary Heart)
Like soldiers on assignment before they leave for a mission, missionaries often leave a letter to a loved one at home. It is a farewell letter that’s only supposed to be read in the event of the missionary’s death abroad.

Karen Watson left for service in Iraq in March 2003. She had left her job as a jail officer and sold all her possessions to work on humanitarian projects with our International Mission Board in northern Iraq. A year and a week later, anonymous gunmen wielding AK-47’s opened fire on her team’s car while they were surveying sites (perhaps for water purification projects) near Mosul. Karen and three others were killed.

Within a few days, Karen’s pastor at Valley View Baptist Church in Bakersfield, CA received this letter, and then shared it with his congregation. Read this slowly.

Dear Pastor,

You should only be opening this in the event of my death.

When God calls there are no regrets. I tried to share my heart with you as much as possible, my heart for the nations.

I wasn’t called to a place; I was called to Him.

To obey was my objective, to suffer was expected, His glory my reward, His glory my reward ….

THE MISSIONARY HEART

Cares more than some think is wise

Risks more than some think is safe

Dreams more than some think is practical

Expects more than some think is possible

I was called not to comfort or to success but to obedience ….

There is no Joy outside of knowing Jesus and serving Him.

I love you and my church family.

In His care,

Salaam, Karen

The Things I See...

2011-08-20T13:27:00.000-03:00

My grand daughter cuddling with one of our new kittens.

Travels with Jungle Mom... never boring...

2011-08-19T09:16:00.000-03:00

I was asked...

What has been your scariest travel experience?

and I am stumped for an answer.

Its not that I have not had interesting experiences in my many travels, it is that I am finding it difficult to decide which one would be the scariest! Partly, because as I look back on each event, I now find them to be hilarious, even though at the time, they were frightening.

Would it be the time our Cessna landed on a grass strip in the rain and the water wall splashed so high we could not see where we were going until we stopped? Then we realized we were about 3 feet from the jungle trees at the end of the strip?

Or was it the time the engine cut off in the single engine Cessna while we were climbing? I did scream that time!

Or the time my daughter and I were left on a strip alone with indians who had never seen a non-indian female? They were very interested in confirming that we were indeed female...

Or when the three girls and I were, once again, left waiting in the middle of the jungle on a grass strip. The one where the jaguar liked to sun himself? The one where they killed the jaguar a few days later for chasing after an old man? My loving husband left us with his Leatherman knife, so I guess we were safe enough! (There's more to this story, but I must save some things for the book or you all will not purchase it!)

Once we needed to land on a small strip but found it occupied with buffalo. Kind of like playing that old video game 'Frogger' but with a plane and buffalo...and only one life!

Or maybe driving along the border with Colombia in an area known to be infested with FARC guerrillas? A few times we had to go in caravans and have a military escort until the military guys ended up being about as bad as the FARC.However, I think the huge pot holes on that road were by far the scariest aspect of that route.

Once, we were fording a river in a Land Rover (GREAT VEHICLES!) and we were meeting up with a ferry in the middle of the river. The car became stuck on something and the ferry moved off , dragging us along into deeper water. The back of the car, where the small children and I were, began filling up with water. I started throwing babies up to Clint in the front and then decided we should save the video camera as well. I grabbed the heavy camera case and lobbed it with all my might towards the dry, front of the car. I hit our driver in the back of the head! Obviously, we all survived and no one was harmed...well, except for the driver. He never would drive for us again.

There was that flight in the middle of the national strike.We managed to get tickets on the last flight leaving Barquisimeto for Caracas. Some Venezuelans did not think Gringos should get the last spots, even though we had tickets and they did not. Nor did it matter that some of those 'Gringos' were actually Venezuelan citizens. A small 'riot' began to break out and we were separated form our girls. The girls thought they were being kidnapped, when actually some airport workers were trying to place them in a protected spot. The, NAZIonal Guards (as some call them), National Guards, came over and began hitting people off with their machetes. We were told to, "Go quickly to gate one!" I don't remember much more. A big blurr of grabbing kids, wondering about luggage, listening to Spanish curses, and just getting our very white selves hidden away in the plane!

But truth be told, there was one trip that terrified me for the entire two hour flight! We were flying in a small commuter Turbo Prop from Puerto Ayacucho to Caracas. This plane had no lavatory facilities, and that was the problem! It turned out that I had E coli and very much needed those facilities! I was horrified I would not make it to Caracas. Those were, by far, the longest, scariest two hours of my entire life!

Except, there was that other time...

Marital Communication

2011-08-17T14:52:00.003-03:00

This is a page from our album. My husband chose the photo of the famous Angel Falls of the jungle in Venezuela for the play on words, "You are my ANGEL and I FALL for you everyday!"

My husband once made a flight out to visit a Pemon Indian village and ended up stranded in a village without any radio to call for a plane. Each day he would walk out to the air srtip and use a hand mirror to try and signal the mining planes that occasionally (once every day.. or two) flew over the village. The Pemons had pity on him and brought him what they referred to as 'a bigger radio'. It was a larger mirror!

But that day a pilot did land and offered to fly him back to Ciudad Bolivar. The pilot was on his way to a mining town but left my husband to wait for him in Canaima, at the base of the very mountain of this beautiful fall, the highest in the world!

This is now a resort tourist area and he wandered around in his jungle missionary attire and actually discovered a satellite phone booth! So he called me.

I was in our small house in town and at that time there was still no land line phone service in that part of the town. We did have an ancient cell phone which my husband had attached a double size battery to. However, the only place to get a signal was by climbing up on a ladder under a palm tree in our back yard. Very interesting in rainy season!

Since I was anxious for my husband's well being, I left the phone up on the ladder to catch any call! It rang and he tells me he is calling from Canaima and Angel Falls.

He is in the middle of the jungle using a high tech satellite phone!

I am in a town, civilization! I am climbing up a ladder, holding a cell phone the size of a brick, which weighed three lbs., perching under an umbrella, wearing a rain coat praying not to get struck by lightning!

The things we do for love!!!!

An MK poem

2011-08-12T15:33:00.000-03:00

My daughter , Jayde, wrote this after spending a week at our mission headquarters for the Enrichment Week program offered to missionary families on furlough in the states. She was 11 years old at the time and left this message on the white board for the people who made the week happen.

Life can be so tricky,
for a missionary kid,
but you made it so fun,
During Enrichment Week, you did!

We missionary kids are sometimes
longing to be normal.
But no matter who we were,
how we dressed, casual or formal,

You made sure we all fit in,
You helped us give our all to Him,
now let's sit back, bow our heads,
and watch it all begin!

Ok, so its not perfect poetry, but she expresses a common MK feeling, the need to fit in.

The Things I See...

2011-08-12T12:48:00.000-03:00

So... that's where the cat hid her kittens!

Favorite Family Fotos

2011-08-11T16:56:00.001-03:00

I love my family!
Sometimes, candid shots turn out to be the best!

My oldest daughter, Jackie

My son in law, Brian

My son, Joshua, on his wedding day.

June7,2008. Lake Tahoe, California.

My daughter in Law, Naomy, on her wedding day.

June7, 2008. Lake Tahoe,California

My daughter, Jewel

My daughter, Jayde in her Paraguayan dress

My oldest grand daughter, Elena

My grand daughter, Abbie

Grand daughter, Lexi, discovering cookies in the oven!

My husband and I cheering for Paraguay's soccer team.

I held a Jewel

2011-08-10T13:32:00.000-03:00

Today my Jewel is 21!

Jewel was born with an attitude!

She could never sit still for picture taking!

She has always enjoyed any type of hand work.
Here she is watching an indian lady make a hammock.

No matter where she is, she will find a way to be helpful.

She is always up for an adventure.

She loved canoeing on the river in the jungle.

A rough and tumble kid!

She has always loved babies and will make a great mom one day.

Loves drama.

She learned from other cultures that there are different ways to do things.

She makes friends easily!

She has always been interested in medicine.

She would be a great nurse.

Always was a bit of a tomboy.

Very competitive.

She has become a real beauty...

And I keep wondering ,
"Where has my little, tough, tomboy gone?"

I HELD A JEWEL

I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep
The day was warm, and winds were prosy
I said, "Twill keep"

I woke - and chide my honest fingers,
The Gem was gone
And now, an Amethyst remembrance
Is all I own

BY EMILY DICKINSON.

My Life as a Fairy Tale

2011-08-09T19:01:00.003-03:00

The People of the Enchanted Forest

Once upon a time there was a land of great wealth and prosperity in the north, and in that land two people were born who were destined to be together. One was a young knight, Marinus who was in the service of his King and country, and the other was a young Lady, Roseus who was waiting for her knight.

Marinus was sent to serve his land in a band of mighty warriors who were the first to fight and were under direct orders of their King. He was of the few and the proud who were the first line of defense of that great land. They were known to be always faithful to that duty. Semper Fidelis was their standard.

As these things usually come about, the two met and were joined in holy matrimony having a great, pure love for one another. Their love would pass the test of time and they would live happily with their four children.

When his days of service to the King were over, young Marinus was released from his duty and the young Knight felt called upon to serve his God in a far away place where His name was not known.

Marinus, Roseus and their children began a journey to the south, the land of a great forest. Some even believed the great forest to be enchanted. In that land of forest and rivers there dwelt a people who had not heard of the ways of God . Marinus was determined to find them and show them the glory of God that they might know it for themselves.

And so they set out upon a long and adventurous journey, their highway was the river and their steed was a dug out canoe. After many days of travel through the enchanted forest, they arrived at a small village and were invited to rest and share the food with the people of the enchanted forest.

The people asked them to stay and share with them the great mysteries of the unknown God. Marinus began to learn their ways and their words. Roseus worked to understand and befriend the women and children of the enchanted forest.

And they were busy. They taught the people of the forest how to mark their words upon white leaves so that their words would never be lost. They taught them to decipher the marked leaves and read the words of others. And they taught them of the ways of God.

Marinus and Roseus shared their knowledge of medicine and healing with the people of the forest, caring for the sick and elderly. Many children were born to the village and their strength was improved. The village became the mightiest in that region.

Roseus helped the elders to gather the children together daily to teach them at a young age how to make the markings upon the white leaves, how to do the ciphers, how to care for their health.

Marinus taught them of God. He showed them the word's of God written upon the white leaves and they could now understand God's words for themselves. Many an evening the elders would sit around the fires and read aloud the words of God to others. Soon so many were eager to hear these words, the people decided to build a large meeting house just for that purpose. It was a place of Hope.

All seemed well in the enchanted forest. The people were happy, Marinus and Roseus were happy, but outside of the Enchanted Forest a fear was growing among the people of the cities. A new leader had arisen.

This leader was known as Thugo the Tyrant and he spread his hate and venomous teachings through out that Land of Grace. The numbers of Thugo's followers grew and violently took the land. It was as if a wave of red hatred grew in the hearts of many and spread to the hearts of all those with whom they spoke.The wave of red flowed forth to encompass more and more of the land, but the enchanted forest was far away and still untouched by Thugo or his red thugs.

Slowly, the rumors arrived that the wave of red was ever growing nearer to the enchanted forest. Alas, some of the enchanted people were washed away with the wave of red anger and hatred. Thugo's grip was growing ever nearer, but things were still calm in the village were Marinus and Roseus lived happily among the people of the forest.

Until one fateful day, a decree went forth through out the whole of the land. Thugo the Tyrant spoke and declared that all those who lived in the enchanted forest as emissaries of God must leave and leave at once. Thugo's red thugs arrived to put fear into their hearts. The red thugs began to do evil in the enchanted forest and cause harm to the people ever threatening Marinus and his family.

Marinus and Roseus attempted to seek justice from the peoples of the city. They went into the Palaces of Justice, showing their works were not evil but good. It was to no avail. Thugo the Tyrant would not listen, Thugo's red thugs had lost the ability to see and think on their own and were now completely entranced by Thugo and his evil spell. They would not listen and so, Marinus and Roseus left the enchanted forest with sadness.

They left their friends, the people of the forest, and all were heart broken. Many cried on that day. Marinus beseeched them to never forget the ways of God, to continue to follow in His path and Roseus hugged and cried with the women and children of the forest. But they must leave, and leave they did.

As time went by, Marinus and Roseus moved to a new land and were happy once again. But a part of their heart remained behind in the enchanted forest, a longing and a calling they could feel most everyday, to be with the people of the forest. They learned to trust God with their care.

At times they would receive messages from the enchanted people. Their words marked on white leaves so that Marinus and Roseus might know of their friends and how it went in the enchanted forest. The words were good. The people still followed the ways of God and declared His glory through out the forest, spreading it from village to village. God remained among them even after Marinus and Roseus had been forced to leave them. They had known that He would, but it was a comfort to read the markings.

And so, the people of the enchanted forest were well and Marinus and Roseus were happy. And all lived happily ever after until they would one day be reunited in a beautiful city of lights to live together for all eternity. A place where all was enchanted and the likes of Thugo the Tyrant and his Red Thugs would never be able to reach them again. A place of true peace and rest.

The End

Iglesia Bautista SIN FRONTERAS

2011-08-07T13:20:00.000-03:00

Les invitamos a 5 semanas para fortalecer tu familia.

Send Abbie to Washington!

2011-08-06T14:21:00.001-03:00

My 4yr old grand daughter told me yesterday that her mommy could not make chocolate chip cookies anymore because they ARE TOO EXPENSIVE. She understands that when funds are tight, we have to cut back. I say, let's send her to congress to straighten this mess out!

She is smarter than the average congressman.

Friday Foto

2011-08-05T13:37:00.000-03:00

Jungle Mom when she was City Girl

Happy Birthday to my son

2011-08-04T12:33:00.000-03:00

Joshua was born in Venezuela

Today he is happily married and living in Florida!

So... this is heaven?

2011-08-03T13:01:00.000-03:00

I wish you all could meet a friend of mine from the Ye'kwana tribe. Cristina was my neighbor for all those years we lived in the village. When I first met her, she was a married woman with 5 children. A few months later, her husband died of a high fever, probably yellow fever. This made her a widowed mother of 5. Life in the jungle is hard even with a husband but for a woman alone...no hunter...no one to build the house every five years or so when it falls down...HARD!

About this same time, I had my first back surgery. This meant I could no longer do my own laundry in the river. Lugging dirty clothes down the bank and then heavy, wet clothes back up was no longer possible. Cristina showed up one morning and told me that God had led her to do my laundry for me. I had been praying about whom to hire. It is hard in a small, cashless society to hire one person over another. But this was the perfect answer, as everyone knew Cristina needed help. She did my laundry for several years.

One dry season, she was collecting fire wood, which must be collected before the rains and kept under a roof to use during the long rainy season. She stopped at my door and took off the head strap of her handmade back pack.
(These men are wearing the same style back pack.)

"WOOO", she called.
I opened the door and as she came in I could tell she was not feeling well. Now, Cristina stands at about 4'8" or so and might weigh 45 kilos. I had just watched her come in carrying a good 25 kilos of firewood on her back. Her garden was probably 2 to 3 kilometers away, so, she had every reason to not feel well!
She asked me if I could give her a "red" pill for her pain. The "red" pill was ibuprofen, the Miracle Pill in the jungle!

I went into the store room to get it for her, and when I came back out, she was sitting with a smile on her face looking around my house.I gave her the pill and began to tell her how that in heaven there would be no need for medicine as there would be no pain. And there would be no need to gather firewood, as God would provide all our needs and be the very light. I said it would be so great in heaven , to have all our needs met and provided AND , we would each have a mansion!!
Her face lit up, she looked at me and said something I will never forget. She said, "Heaven will be like your house!"

Now, my heart stopped for a moment. My house, that she was referring to was a mud hut! With a palm roof!! When you touched the walls, pieces of it fell off. Worms and cock roaches nested in the palm roof and even occasionally fell on you, not to mention the lizards and snakes! I had a generator and lights though, and a rough cement floor. I had colorful curtains, and a sink!
To Cristina's mind, this was as good as she could imagine!! (Inside The Jungle Hut)

I remember thinking, "Please God ,let her be wrong! Heaven has got to be better than this!"
And then I began to think, in Cristina's limited imagination, my home was a mansion.
What if, in our limited human imaginations, we are as far off as she is in what we imagine heaven will be like!

A Sunday Funny

2011-07-31T14:06:00.000-03:00

So that's how he did it!

A Good Book

2011-07-31T13:46:00.002-03:00

Yonaguska was a prominent Cherokee Chief. He was known to be a fair and wise man. He was a peace chief and counselor rather than a war leader. He was a very handsome man standing at 6'3" tall, strongly built, with a faint tinge of red to his countenance.

When the missionaries had finished the translation of the book of Matthew of the New Testament into the Cherokee language, it was taken and presented to Yonaguska for his people to read. Yonaguska had never learned to read the Cherokee syllabary or English. Before he would allow his people to read the book of Matthew, he asked that it be read to him privately in order for him to be assured that it was something worthy for his people to read.

After listening to a few chapters, Yonaguska remarked dryly,

" Well, it seems to be a good book - strange that the white people are not better, after having had it so long."

Articles in regards to mission work among the Cherokee nation:

http://www.manataka.org/page1383.html

http://rla.unc.edu/Research/Mission.html

http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m0NXG/is_/ai_n28045163

A Day Late and a Dollar Short

2011-07-30T12:46:00.002-03:00

The following article was written by Missionary Ken Hagerman, a friend here in Paraguay.

Usually we shy away from those things that look a little too self-serving. For this reason, we don’t often talk of finances or of needs, especially the physical ones. However, recent events in the financial climate as well as our first-hand knowledge of how these events are dramatically affecting ministries operating here, have necessitated my writing this informative piece. Many times we Americans don’t know a whole lot about how the world functions outside of our borders. Even if we are seasoned business travelers or vacationers we only experience the other countries we visit from the small window of opportunity those things offer. Today, I wanted to take the time to tell you a little about exchange rates.
Many of you may support ministries outside of the United States and if so I want to share a little bit of how those financial blessings operate once they leave the good ole U.S. of A. While there are several countries outside the USA that use the U.S. dollar for their official currency (Panama, Ecuador, El Salvador etc.) and while there are many places that accept the dollar for payment, the majority of countries require the exchange of that dollar to the local currency in the event you care to make a purchase. The United States is a world power economically. Being such, when the economy is poor or shaky in the States it filters down throughout the world. Locally you may experience higher gas prices or a slight bump in food cost. Pay raises may be slower and smaller. Interest rates will be higher or the requirements to get a loan will become more stringent. All these things as well as the general “doomsday” morale being perpetrated by the media lead to a general “woe is me, we can’t make it” feeling.
Now let’s think about the missionaries and ministry organizations you support. They have to take that dollar you give to the local exchange house and turn it into whatever currency they need to operate. I will give you the specifics of Paraguay since we live here and I know it best. The Paraguayans as a rule aren’t bothered with the fluctuating dollar. It does cause some prices to climb on imported goods but their general life and livelihood are hardly inconvenienced by it. The missionaries and ministry organizations that operate here who have funding coming into Paraguay from the USA are bothered by it. In fact many are downright harmed by it. For instance, in October 2010 the rate of exchange here was Gs(Guaranies)5000 to $1. That meant when someone exchanged $1000 dollars they received 5 million Guaranies. Way cool huh?! This also meant when a ministry went to the local market and bought a kilo(2.2 lbs) of ground beef for the kids in their children’s home for 25,000 guaranies, it was the same as paying $5 for that meat. Or let’s say that a ministry went to fill the gas tank on the mobile medical office they use as a tool to enter communities and share Christ, and they bought 40 liters of gas at 6500 guaranies per liter (260,000Gs total) . That’s $1.30 per liter, $52 for 10 ½ gallons. Yep, we are paying a little over 5 bucks a gallon for gas here.
Today we were in town and I saw a sign for an exchange location that boasted a rate of 3900 guarnies to one dollar. In less than 6 months, the dollar has lost 22% of its purchasing power here. Let’s take the two examples above and rework them with the new rate. First the children’s home ministry buys 1 kilo of ground beef for the same Gs25,000 but now they have to use $6.41 to buy it instead of $5 dollars like before. Next the medical missionaries fill their van’s gas tank. The same 40 liters of fuel that was $52 now costs them $67. These changes occurred over less than 6 months.
The point to this exercise is to point out that while we are all feeling the pinch of the downturn in the economy what would it feel like for you if everything you bought suddenly went up 22-25%? I bring this up not to “drum up business” for the Hagermans in Paraguay but to mention to the good people, the world-wide donors, who support ministry in foreign lands to take notice. If the ministry you support is something that is close to your heart then ask them how things are going for them financially. I don’t know the state of exchange rates in all the countries where God’s people are working, but I suspect that their purchasing power has been dramatically affected of late. It may be a time in your life that giving more is just not an option for you, but you may be able to lead a campaign to raise finances for that children’s home or those medical missionaries or whatever other ministry God has put on your heart to partner with. I know firsthand that the missionaries we have met in the field think of the word partner as more than a check. They regularly lift their partners to the Lord in prayer, they think of each person as a vital part of the ministry, and they love when those people can come to see the work with their own eyes. If you are partnered with a particular ministry, engage them and pray that God blesses their work and ask HIM to show you your part in their work.

JUNGLE MOM ADDS: Since Ken wrote this the exchange rate has dropped even lower. This morning's rate was down to 3610 Guaranis per dollar almost 300 less than when he wrote this article.

I'm NOT Catholic...

2011-07-29T17:33:00.002-03:00

Which will be quite obvious after this story!

When I was newly married, my husband and I worked part time as janitors in the evenings, to pay our school bills. One of my first jobs was to clean a Roman Catholic church. Prior to this, I had never stepped inside a Roman Catholic church! The only Catholic I knew was an uncle and we only spoke of that in hushed, pained voices. I come from a long line of Baptists and am the fifth generation of Baptist preacher's kids...we just never met many Catholics .

On my very first day, I was diligently vacuuming the multi purpose room which was where Mass was held and also used for other meetings including Bingo on the weekends. They had a rather ornate communion table with red velvet curtains which fell from the table top to the floor. Striving to do a thorough job, I pushed aside the curtains to vacuum under the table.

The sight I saw under the table turned my blood ice cold! I saw a pair of lifeless, bloody feet! I threw my hands up and screaming, ran off the platform into the arms of my husband! The priest and a nun came running to see what the commotion was all about.

I told them! There was a dead body stashed under the communion table! You should have seen their faces! Apparently, the church had a life size crucifix which they hung on the wall during Mass, but hid under the communion table during Bingo, not deeming it proper for Christ to look down upon such activity.

Oops! My bad. The priest was very kind when he realized my ignorance and he chuckled a bit about it.

A few weeks later, I decided to clean a small basin I had noticed. It was gold plated and a bit scummy to my eyes. I scrubbed and scrubbed and rinsed and rinsed until it shown!

Then I was given a lecture about Holy Water and how it had to be procured and blessed by a Bishop as it was the only water to be used for baptizing. It seems one does not wash it down the drain!

Oops! My bad. The priest was very patient as he explained but he did not find it funny at all.

The final straw happened a few weeks later. The church had a small break room and the priest had told us to help ourselves to any food there. Often we would find donuts or pastries and being poor college students, we did help ourselves! But on this day, there were no snacks out...except for a box of some kind of strange wafers. My husband and I both grabbed handfuls of the crackers to snack on as we worked. They did not have much flavor but did have a curious texture and way of melting on your tongue.

This time the priest was not even polite. I guess one should not snack on the Lord's body! For these curious wafers were the Host. In our defense, they were very different from the unleavened bread used by baptists in our communion services!

Oops! My bad. We never were sent back to clean that church but were reappointed to a bank.

I wonder if that priest remembers me?

(This is my light hearted attempt to remember this event which recounts my true ignorance at the time. I mean no offense to anyone and certainly no disrespect to the Communion or Lord's Table or even the Priest as he was truly kind to me.)

Empty Idols

2011-07-28T14:21:00.000-03:00

"Christianity is not a cultural system. In fact, in those cases where it has become so intertwined with a culture that the two cannot be separated, this is inevitably to the detriment of Christianity. Christianity is fundamentally a relationship with God through Jesus Christ, a community and a way of life, all wrapped up in historical, moral and theological beliefs, values and commitments. These things are not culture and civilization. They shape culture and civilization. They ground and judge culture and civilization, and they can be expressed in a variety of cultures and civilizations. But if we grow committed to the culture and civilization, while the faith and spirituality are hollowed out of them, then we worship empty idols."

~Timothy Dalrymple

The Jungle Hut

Tereré

The Human Problem

The Things I See...

Gastro-Geographical Linguistic Tour of Latin America

Map of Memories

Planking in Paraguay

Please Pray for Anonymous!

Happy New Year

'Resolved, that I will live so as I shall wish I had done when I come to die.' ~ Jonathan Edwards

On Loving God

The Things I See...

A Christmas Surprise

Down Town

The Things I See...

Jewel is in Brazil on her way home

Have you ever?

My Week End

Janus decided to eat her mattress last night. I think she is assuming this will allow her back into the house at night.

Please pray for safe travels for Clint tonight as he drives to Asuncion.

Saturday Night~

Clint Vernoy arrived safely. I should have asked prayer for those of us who did not travel out of town. We had a little 'encounter' on the way home tonight, but all is well.

Even later~

Later yet~

The girls decided to make crafts which ended up with lydocaine and bandages... and this was after all the OTHER stuff on the way home.

SUNDAY MORNING~

Sunday mid morning~

And now, off to church to see what new adventures await us!

MONDAY MORNING UPDATE~

God writes a lot of comedy... the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.~Garrison Keillor

The Things I See...

Janus the Great and the kitten with a death wish!

Actually, Janus is pretty patient with the kitten and we often find them sleeping together in the morning.

Upstairs Bathroom ????

Look at what we discovered in the news paper?

Thanksgiving Prayer From Father Knows Best

Father Knows Best!

It saddens me to realize many young Americans and immigrants can not recall a time when we all, even Hollywood, took time to thank God in public.

The Marine Corps Birthday Ball ~ Asuncion, Paraguay

She did it!

Winning Female Soloist ~Festival del Takuare'e de Guarambaré

Honoring our Family's Veterans

Happy Birthday

A Queen bearing gifts!

Quote of the Day (Vishal Mangalwadi)

The Things I See...

Crazy Gringos

..as the demons danced upon our roof.

Its my blogaversary!

PHOTOBUCKET!

Why I blog

Malaria Memories

Just keeping in real...

Iglesia Bautista SIN FRONTERAS

Heve you ever seen a Drunken Chicken?

Cantando por un Sueño

The Things I See...

7 years ago...

Seven years ago I was in Costa Rica with Jackie after here cesarean delivery of Elena, everyone was celebrating Columbus Day when EL Comandante changed our lives by making his famous speech on TV telling us all to "pack our bags and leave the jungle".

We managed to stay on for several months until the legal battles became too expensive for us and our plane was impounded and nearly expropriated. By God's grace, Clint managed to get it flown out to Trinidad on Father's Day 2006. Long story!

Here is a poem my youngest daughter wrote at the time.

Up Your Nose with a Rubber Hose

Mensajes Dominicales

¡El podcast de la iglesia! ¡Compartelo con un amigo!

Everything is bigger in the Amazon

My latest 'I Love Lucy ' moment

Must be Monday

The Things I See...

Fire !!

The Things I See...

How Does your Garden Grow?

I miss them...

True Missionaries!

Floors

My Dad's a doctor?? Sorta...

My Dad, the doctor. Another re-post! from my oldest daughter, Jackie

The Flavor of Words

Being a missionary is not my real job

Happy Birthday!

The Gall bladder Christmas

God writes a lot of comedy... the trouble is, he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.
~Garrison Keillor