Heading Home

I am on my way home.  It is taking longer than I thought it would.  As a child, I had not idea my journey would last this long.  Even though I have been traveling for a very long time, I may still be a long way off. Yet in my mind’s eye, I can see it.  Every bend in the road brings me closer.  Each step makes me wish I were there already.

Home, they say, is where the heart is.  If that’s true, then I have more than one home, but the one I most long for is the one I have held in my heart almost all my life.  Heaven is my heart's home.  I want to see the Holy City, gleaming in all its splendor.  I want to meet Peter, Paul, Moses, David, Ruth, Mary, and so many others. I want to see my relatives and friends who are already there.  I want to see the tree that bears fruit in every season and the river that flows from the throne of God.  I want to experience a place where there is no loneliness, no sadness, and especially no sin.  But most of all, I want to see Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith, the One who paid the price for my sin and made it possible for me to be adopted into His family.  I want to worship Him and be amazed all over again at His love, mercy, and grace.  I want to keep learning about the amazing God who forgave and adopted people like me into His very family.

Sometimes I despair that I will get to hear Jesus say “Well done.” The long, winding road I have traveled has had many hills and valleys.  Distracted, I have sometimes forgotten to follow the map God gave me. Sometimes I have found myself off the path He had for me and had to ask Him to help me find my way back. At other times, I thought I could take a slight detour toward temptation, only to find myself desperately lost.  How blessed I was when the Holy Spirit rescued me from those sinful distractions and detours and set me back on the right road.

I am not the only one on this road.  Along the way, I share my experiences of God’s grace with others who are also heading home.  We have the same goal – to reach the gates of heaven and see Jesus welcome us with open arms.  Some are wounded and need to be nursed back to health or carried for a while.  Some are easily tempted and need a companion to help them stay on the right road.  Some are discouraged and need a friend to walk with them through dark valleys.  Some are strong and ready to help others.  Some are lethargic and need a gentle push.  Some have wandered off toward temptation and we call out to them to come back.  But together we are all heading home.

When we keep our sights set on reaching home, our goals are clearer. We help each other stay on this road.  We post warning signs along the road where we have noticed temptations.  We keep inviting those headed in the opposite direction to turn around and travel with us because our destination is so much better than the one going the other way.  We share what we know of Jesus with each other and encourage each other to keep going.  We share what we know of Him through His letters to us.  We look forward to that day when we will watch each other walk through the gates and hear Jesus say, “Well done.  Welcome home.”

Someday I may get word from my doctor that I am nearing the end of my journey. I hope that when that happens I will be excited because I finally get to cross the river to the home that has held my heart all these years.

Decorating for Easter

One of the fun things about having a home again is being able to decorate.  After Christmas, Easter is my favorite time of the year.  I can’t imagine my life without the momentous events that happened that day so long ago – when the Lord and Creator of the Universe took my sin upon Himself, paid for it with his life, and then conquered death.  What a day to celebrate!  Yet the things available for decorating at Easter time are spring decorations rather than Easter ones.  Stores are full of spring flowers, chicks, bunnies, and pastel-colored eggs.

There is one suitable decoration that I can sometimes find.  It is not as easy to find as chicks and bunnies, but I do occasionally run across one.  Over the years, I have managed to collect a number of them.  Some are soft and cuddly stuffed animals, and some are quite realistic.  These lambs and sheep serve as a reminder to me of several wonderful things during this time of year.  I remember what Isaiah says:  “All we like sheep have gone astray.  We have turned everyone to his own way.” I think of Jesus, the Passover Lamb who gave Himself for our sins so that death would pass over us.  I remember that not only is He is the Passover Lamb, but He is also our great and wonderful Good Shepherd. 

So about six week before Easter, the lambs and sheep make their appearance – on the bed, dresser, coffee table, and anywhere else I can find that is appropriate.  When I head for bed at night and I move this one from its place, I remember, “The the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep.”  As I drift off to sleep I can remind myself that He said, “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known of mine. . . .I lay down my life for the sheep.”

In the morning when I get up and I settle down to read my Bible, this one sitting on the coffee table in the living room reminds me, “As a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not his mouth.”  I think of Jesus’ quiet resolve before Pilate and his refusal to fight back when his beard was torn from his face and his back was ripped in shreds by the soldiers whips.  I think of his quiet agony as he was nailed to the cross.  The others being hung that day must have railed against the soldiers who crucified them.  But not Jesus.  He faced it in quiet agony.

When I walk through the dining room, this cute one watches me from atop the china cabinet.  When I see him, I remember: “He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter.”  Our dear Passover Lamb with no blemish whatsoever was assassinated for my sins.

Throughout these weeks leading up to Easter, I want to be reminded of the cost of redemption.  It goes beyond what I can fathom.  These little lambs and sheep serve as a continual reminder to me of the magnitude and magnificence of God.  Bound as He was by His own justice and holiness, He still found a way – a very costly way – to show us mercy and love by redeeming us.

On Easter morning  I will add some happy, joyful decorations to celebrate His victory over death.  For now, though, I want to be caught up again in the wonder of His amazing love.

Finding Buried Treasure

The disaster zone

Our house was a disaster area.  Boxes were stacked upon boxes.  Only a pathway allowed us to move from one room to another as we tried to figure out where to put things.  As we unpacked, a box, the mess grew.

These days I sometimes felt like a treasure hunter.  The next discovery was just around the next bend, or in our case, in the next box.  After four years of having things in storage, each held mysteries yet to be discovered. 

Some treasures I expected to find.  I remembered the dishes and kitchen appliances, though I didn’t remember that we no longer had a toaster.  I also was not expecting our coffee maker to die within a couple weeks of unpacking it, but I guess four years in storage was not necessarily good for it.  I remembered most of the clothing that has been in storage during this time.  (One of the dresses I’ve already given away since I didn’t need it all this time.  Others will probably follow.)  I thought I remembered the paintings, furniture, and other wall decorations.  But occasionally, in the midst of all the things I remembered, I found something that was a lost treasure – something I’d forgotten we had.

Here are the pictures of some of those things.

This piece of furniture was the biggest surprise.  I thought I remembered all of the furniture we had.  Before we went up north to collect our things, I figured out where every piece would go.  Then we unpacked this.  This was a piece Charlie’s father built, so I wanted to keep it.  But where would it go?  We found a place for it, but the dining room is now more crowded than I would have liked. 

Then there were these pieces I bought while working at Lenox.  They’ve found a home on the bookcase in the office.


But then there were these precious pieces I’d forgotten we had, made for us by different families in our church.  These hold special memories for us, especially now that we don’t get to see these dear people very often.
                 
There were books I was delighted to find and others I’d forgotten I have.  Then there are also some books I thought I had that I haven’t found.  With all the books we have, I suppose that’s not a surprise.  This year I plan to keep track of the books I actually use so that I can get rid of some to allow for some different ones.  We really do not have room to add any more bookcases.

I found photos and memorabilia that I have not seen in a long time.  There were even some clothes that I now think I no longer need since I haven’t needed them for four years. 

In the midst of all the discoveries, we occasionally found something that was ruined.  It was during those times that I had to smile.  While I have referred to these things we own as buried treasure, they really are not.  Not even close.  They are just things that rust and moth destroy and thieves may try to steal.

I know where my real buried treasure is. It will have to wait a long time before I will be able to uncover it, but I know that it is safe.  These things that we have uncovered and put into our house help us live life here on earth.  Hopefully, they are also a benefit to us doing ministry while we are here.  In the long run, though, they do not matter.  They are just things.  What matters are the precious people we work with and the souls that God has saved.  They are our true treasure. 

A Home Base

Last month we posted a blog that had some fun with this question of why we feel we need a house.  Lest anyone think we’re not taking their questions seriously, we thought we should post a more serious answer to the question.

We need a home base.  That home base could be on wheels, but we came to the conclusion that a motorhome would cost us more in the long run and would have to be replaced more quickly so a house made more sense.  Even though we will be gone a lot, we need a place to regroup and get ready for the next trip.

Today's "office" will need to disappear before the next meal.

We need a place to set up an office.  People have been very gracious along the way to let us use their dining room table or their guest room so that we have a place to work when we are in their homes.  However, all of our books and files are in storage boxes.  We do not feel it’s wise to go buy that book we feel we need when we know it’s somewhere in a box in Maine.  That means every time we go to write up a lesson to teach in a Bible institute or church, we’re starting over from scratch and we don’t have any of our reference books to help us.  It also means that when we are in the middle of a project, we don’t have a convenient place to keep it.  Every lesson and sermon outline needs to stay with us.  The longer we’re in this ministry, the thicker our current working files are becoming.

We need a quiet place to work.  During these years of being “homeless,” we have used libraries, restaurants, picnic tables, living room couches, beds, the car, and dining room tables as our “office.”  That means that usually there are lots of distractions around us.  Sometimes those distractions can be easily ignored and we keep working.  At other times, those distractions end up involving us, breaking the flow of thought and making it harder to get back to work when the distraction is over.  I have been asked to write curriculum for IPM, but I’ve found it very difficult to do it with the lifestyle we currently have. 

We need a place to keep things.  Over the last two years, we have often found ourselves looking for things we thought we had brought along with us.  When we can’t find it, we then ask ourselves where it might be.  Did we leave it in Georgia at my parents or in Maine at the storage locker?  Or did we lose it and we need to buy a new one?  It will be nice to have a place to keep things where we can go to the shelf or the closet where it’s supposed to be and actually find it. 

Everyone we know who has our type of ministry has a home base.  While there may be a better way of doing this ministry, we have not yet run into a better model than one that involves having a home base.  One day that home base may be abroad, but air travel originating in other countries is generally more expensive than travel originating here.  So for right now it made sense to us to make a house in the USA our home base.

Any questions we haven't answered?  Feel free to post your comments below, and we'll respond to them.

Why do we need a house?

We plan to spend at least five months abroad next year.  In addition, we will be making multiple trips throughout the US to raise support and represent the mission.  That means it’s likely we will only spend about three to four months at “Home”.  So the question has been asked, “Why do you need a house?”  So here are a few of answers which you might find enlightening.

Milk frother

With the money we’ve spent at McDonalds, Tim Hortons, and other restaurants in order to use their “free” wi-fi, we could have already paid our entire mortgage. 

When we wanted to buy a $2.49 milk frother from Ikea to make specialty coffees from time to time, we couldn’t figure out where the right place was for it in the car.  And, we wouldn’t have been able to make coffee in our car anyway, so we decided to pass it up for now. 

We need to keep an entire address book just to keep track of our return addresses.

Our arms are just not long enough to reach up to the storage locker in Maine to get a book that we need for study.

Sitting on one of our chairs in the storage locker just does not feel like home. 

We’d love to be hospitable to missionaries, friends, and relatives, but how do you invite people over to your car for dinner or to stay the night?

Right now when people ask us where we live, we say “our car”.  If they ask where we are from, we still usually say, “Our car.”  It has been tremendously economical for us to live out of our car, but we’d like to be able to have a real answer to that question soon.

In Praise of My Household Servants

Sometimes as I fall asleep at night, I hear the maids still at work, their low humming or rhythmic beating continuing long after I’ve gotten in bed.

What?  Maids, you say?  You mean, you have maids?

Why yes, don’t you?

I have a bunch of them, so many in fact, that I don’t always remember their names.  Let’s see if I can remember them all now.  Those of you who know me will know which ones I’ve overlooked.
There’s the maid that hauls the water and heats it up for our baths.  We normally call her Faucet.  She’s very reliable, and she doesn’t even grumble when we ask her for water in the middle of the night to flush the commode.

There are two maids, Washer and Dryer, that share the work of doing the laundry.  They are fast.  I throw the laundry at them, and in a very short time they have it back to me.  Because they are so fast, they don’t work every day.  They are also the ones that often like to work at night after I’ve gone to bed.  I don’t mind if Washer keeps working, but Dryer has a celebratory screech she makes when she’s finished, so sometimes I ask her to wait until morning to finish her job.

In our last house, we even had one whose sole job was to do the dishes.  Granted, she wasn’t a fulltime maid, and she couldn’t do them as fast as I could, but her being on our household staff meant that I didn’t have to do that job. 

Then there is the old matron who caries messages for us. She can take any message, to nearly anyone, at any time, and in an instant. She has several children who she has trained in this service so she goes by Ma Bell.
We have other servants. There is the groundskeeper who can cut the grass so evenly, it’s amazing.  Sure, I have to walk around with him.  He is rather young so that unlike some of the other servants, he can’t do it without one of us there.  Still, his abilities are quite remarkable.  Thanks, Mower, for all the work you do.  Put a sickle in my hand and the lawn just wouldn’t look as nice.

Then there’s one that is absolutely amazing.  We call her Electricity.  She keeps the furnace going in the winter, fans us in Summer and stokes the cookstove.  She lights the lamps for us at night.  She winds the clocks and the music box.  She even is able to make the picture box light up to let us watch moving pictures.  She is so efficient that she often helps the other maids with their work.

We also have a stable master.  He keeps the horses fed, groomed and the carriage running smoothly.  All we have to do is head out the door, and there’s the carriage ready and waiting for us.  He hands over the reins, and off we go.  His name is Hyundai.

Then there’s the gardener and his family.  He’s no ordinary gardener.  He not only keeps the garden for us, but when his family harvests the vegetables, they goes to the trouble of cleaning them and sometimes even cutting them up, so that when I go to cook, all I have to do is throw them in the pan.  They take the wheat to the miller and bring it back already ground into flour for us.  Sometimes they even take the flour to the baker so that I don’t even have to bake the bread.  He takes our animals to the butcher and brings back the meat all packaged up and ready for us. His abilities are truly astounding.  Through trade and bartering, he can produce from his larder almost any fruit or vegetable; any meat, fish or fowl;  any grain, flour, bread or cake I desire, regardless of the season! His name is Hannaford.

Sometimes I can’t believe how blessed I am to have all these servants.  Not only do they work hard, they almost never complain.  They cost very little to feed, and they lighten my load so much.  

So today I give thanks for all the household help I have.  If I didn’t have all that help, I certainly wouldn’t be able to spend most of my day doing the other jobs I do. 

Fifteen Years

Fifteen years ago I said, “I do.”  I said it with full faith that God had brought us together and that He would give me the grace to fulfill the vows I made that day.  I did not expect it to be easy.  In fact, I expected it to be hard.  We had both been single a long time.  Joining two independent lives and making them one would be a challenge.  And, although we had known each other for more than a year, our long-distance relationship meant that we had not spent a lot of time together.

The first couple years I found myself often praying, “Lord, help me to be the wife you want me to be.  Make me a servant.  Make me submissive.”  My independent spirit often rebelled.  I got upset over small things and cried silent tears over my failures.  I struggled to be the wife I knew I should be and cried out for God’s mercy and power to make me that woman.

At the same time, I was amazed at how blessed I felt by having this man by my side.  God had given me a huge gift.  He given me a friend and companion for the rest of my life, and He had answered my prayer for a ministry partner.

There were a few blessings that surprised me.  My emotional ups and downs leveled out.  He stabilized me.  When the dark clouds of winter’s SAD came over me, I simply talked to him about it and we figured out a way to ease its hold.  Perhaps the biggest blessing to our new marriage was that I found was that he had already learned to resolve conflict in a biblical manner, and he taught me to do the same.

So today I want to give thanks to God for this man I call “My wonderful husband.”  I wanted to write him a poem, but the words and thoughts have failed, so instead I’ll just make a list.
Charlie, I still love . . .

• looking at your sleepy face across the breakfast table. 
• cooking together.
• hearing you pray for me.
• learning from you when you preach and teach.
• dreaming and working with you on the things God still has for us to do.
• the way you try to please me with little things and big:  little things like making the bed or doing the dishes and big things like taking me out to a fancy restaurant to celebrate our anniversary.
• your faith in our amazing God.
• your steadying influence in my life.
• your steadfastness to stay on the path God has shown us even when the end of deputation seems like an unattainable goal.
• sitting in the library or the café together working separately on our computers.
• sharing our faith together at the evangelism booth at the fair.
• singing duets with you.
• walking down the street hand in hand.
• and so much more.  I think I could keep going until everyone got tired of reading, but that’s enough for now.

Suffice it to say, I’m so glad I married you.

One Hundred Houses

We left our house in Maine in February, 2010.  It was the nicest house we had ever owned.  Its spacious living and dining room allowed us to have large groups in our home, an advantage when you are the pastor.  Large picture windows let in the sunlight and allowed a view of the lawn and woods that surrounded us.  From the bedroom window, we could catch a glimpse of the Penobscot River.  It even had a garage, something we have lived without during most of our adult lives. 

I especially loved that house at Christmas, when I draped the living room in lighted garlands.  The hardwood floors gleamed and reflected the candles and Christmas lights.  Outside, the snow reminded me that Christ came to cleanse us from our sins and make us as white as snow.  

But God is so gracious.  When He called us into this itinerant ministry, I knew the house had to go.  It was not a hard decision.  I knew God provided the house especially for the task of caring for Charlie’s aging father.  It was perfect for that task.  Not only was it ideally suited to someone with limited mobility, it’s beauty refreshed my spirit at those times when I needed God’s reminder that He would strengthen me to my daily tasks.  But it was a house specifically given for a specific time, and that time had come to an end.

When Jesus spoke to his disciples about the things they would be called to give up, he told them that any one who left his house or family for His sake would receive one hundred times that both in this life and in the life to come.  I began thinking about all the places we’ve stayed in the time since we sold our house.  While we have not yet attained to a hundred houses, it is not hard for me to believe that before we’re done with deputation, we will have lived in a hundred houses, many of them much nicer than we would ever be able to afford. 



Searsport, ME

Today I thought I’d begin the counting and see how far we’ve come.  In some we’ve only stayed a night or two.  In others we’ve stayed a week.  In still others, it’s been several months.  In all of them, though, we have been so grateful for God’s provision of a house for us.  Generally speaking, wherever we’ve gone, we’ve either been given complete run of the house while the owners are gone or we’ve been included into their lives and treated like family.  In either case, the feeling is “Mi casa es su casa,”or “My house is your house.” 
So here goes. 

The view from the porch in Madawaska

1. The raised ranch in Hampden, ME.  After we sold our house, people in our church were gracious enough to grant us the use of their home while they wintered in Florida.
2. The FROG (finished room over the garage) in Glenburn, ME. 
3. The three-bedroom trailer in Searsport, ME. 
4. The cleanest house I’ve ever seen in Madawaska, ME.    
5. The IPM mission house in Hanover, PA.
6. My parents’ home in LaFayette, GA.   

   

   View from balcony, Dominican Republic

7. The sundrenched home in Hato Mayor, Dominican Republic where our gracious hosts gave us the beautiful master bedroom during our stay. 
8. A prophets’ chamber at a church in Hanover, PA.
9. The spacious townhome in Atlanta, GA.



Gulf Shores

10. The beach condo in Gulf Shores, AL, furnished with all my family.
11. The resort condo in Southwest Harbor, ME.
12. The 1940’s house in NC
13. The U-shaped house in Greenville, SC. 
14. The hunting trophy house in Starr, SC.
15. The plantation-style house in Charleston, SC.
16. The lake home in Leesburg, FL where I sat in the sunroom, enjoying watching God's creation.  Sunset reflected in its waters.  The great blue heron flying in for a landing.  An alligator basking in the sunshine.
17. The third-floor condo in Bradenton, FL, with a balcony overlooking the golf course.
18. The prophet's chamber in Southington, CT, where I could listen in on college classes happening just outside the door.
19. The bustling townhouse in Woodbridge, VA, overflowing with active (yet well-behaved) boys.
20. The log cabin with a view of the the fishing pond in Winchester, VA.
21. The doctor’s house in Leesville, LA. "Is there a doctor in the house?"  Well, yes.  In fact, there are two!  As a result, Charlie received some very helpful advice while we were there.
22. Venezuela memories house in Houston, TX.
23. The desert guest house with a view of Mt. Graham, AZ
24. A brightly-lit golf course townhome in Tucson, AZ
25. The farm house in Spencer, IA, where a friendly horse greeted us.
26. The split level home in Minneapolis, MN, where nutritious, organic meals were served daily.
27. The energy-efficient, below-grade house in Boy River, MN.
28. The ivy-covered brick manse in Wheaton, IL.   

    

    Guatemala villa

29. The hill-top villa in Cerro Alto, Sacatepéquez, Guatemala, with a wrap around balcony to take in the million-dollar views.
30. The bison farm house in Franklinville, NY, where college memories abounded.



Machiasport view

31. The room with the view on the bluffs of the bay in Machiasport, ME.
32. The second floor prophet’s chamber in Orono, ME.

Okay, so we’re not quite to 100.  But since this only covers a little more than a year, it will not be difficult to see how God would grant us 100 houses before we’re done. (If you would like to add your house to this list let us know!)

Ah, you say, but these aren’t your houses.  True.  But neither was “our” beautiful house in Hampden actually ours.  The deed may have been in our name, but it certainly was not ours.  It was simply on loan to us from God for the time we needed it.  It was His house.  We were simply the caretakers.

Another Signpost?

 For the first time since we have started making visits to Latin America with IPM, I arrived eager to talk in Spanish.  First of all, I was back in a country where I lived about thirty years ago, and I wanted to know how things had changed.  I knew I would only find out by talking to the Guatemalans. 

Secondly, it was the first time when I arrived feeling as though I had a fairly good handle on what was going on around me.  I could understand what people were saying around me, and I didn’t feel as though I was constantly trying to dig the right words out of the recesses of my brain.  I have been so blessed by God to be have more freedom in teaching in Spanish this time. I still have a long way to go, but I see progress, and that’s good.

Still, my Spanish is far inferior to what it once was.  I know that there is work ahead of me if I want to be effective teaching in Spanish, and since IPM has a number of national missionaries working in Latino countries, we will likely continue to be travelling to Spanish-speaking countries. 

During our conference, Sharon Herrera asked me if I would be willing to come to Cuernavaca, Mexico to work with their children’s workers and help them improve their program.  I would love to do that!

Last night Charlie asked brother Giovanni this question, “If we were to come back to work with you again, what can we do to be more effective the next time we come?”  He had a couple suggestions, but the main one was, “Learn Spanish.”  Giovanni’s main concern where Charlie is concerned is that people may want to be able to get counsel from him without the help of an interpreter.

Charlie is very intelligent and could easily learn conversational Spanish given the right conditions. Does this mean we should add a signpost to the three we already have?  We can see the advantages of settling somewhere where we would have more interaction in Spanish – perhaps a church where they have a Spanish ministry.  Or does this mean that we should take some time to actually live in a Spanish-speaking nation for a while until our Spanish improves?  It does, however, seem to indicate that we need to take our command of the Spanish language seriously.

So maybe this is our fourth signpost:  Live somewhere where our Spanish will improve through constant interaction. 

Where Will We Live? (Tongue in cheek)

 Mile after mile.  Sign after sign.  Town after town. 

We sit side by side in the car talking while Charlie drives.  We comment to one another about houses high atop hills or those beside rivers and lakes.  We notice the prices of new houses being built.  Sometimes we laugh at those prices because they are so far above our price range.  We marvel at the palette God uses to paint His beautiful world as the sun tucks itself behind the horizon and paints the sky with pink, purple, and gold.

Every so often, we see a sign for a town that makes us smile about the possibility of living there, so I began a list so that I could share them here.

Of course, there are some town names that reflect other places in the world.  We could live in Paris, Moscow, Naples, Mexico, Lebanon, Poland, Columbia, and Norway without even leaving Maine.  That could provide interesting conversations.  Imagine this conversation.


Our previous home in Hampden, ME

"Where do you live?"

"We live in Oxford."

"Really?  I thought you lived in the U.S."

"We do.  Oxford is a small town between Norway and Poland."

"Wait a minute.  Oxford is in England.  That’s nowhere near Norway or Poland."

"Well, let’s put it this way.  Oxford is a town in Maine.  So are Norway and Poland."



Gulf Shores, AL

"Oh."

Then there are other locations where we can play with the name of the town.

If we live in Humble, TX, we will always welcome you to our humble home.  If we live in Lake, MS, we can invite you to our lake home, though there may not be a lake in sight.  If we live in Mountain Home, TX, you might be surprised that there are only rolling hills around rather than mountains.  If we invite you to our Beach house, don’t be surprised if we mean our house in Beach, TX.

If we live in Welfare, TX, does that mean we’re on welfare?



Madawaska, ME

If we have a small house in Marathon, TX, does that mean we’re in a half marathon?

If we live in Friend, NE, we don’t need a home because we can always go to our Friend’s house.

So where will we live?  Stay with us and find out.

One thing is sure.  We would rather not live in Hell, MI.  That could get really complicated.

Blessings of Being Homeless

“Where do you live?”
It’s a familiar question, and one we often answer by saying, “We’re homeless right now.”  We usually go onto explain that getting rid of house payments and home maintenance expenses  allowed us to go fulltime into deputation.  However, we are very aware that deputation would be much harder for us if we were actually living out of our car, so we’re not really homeless.  We are simply depending upon the generosity of God’s people to carry us through this time.

For the past six months, we have used my parents’ home in Georgia as our base, so our answer then was, “Right now we’re living with my parents in LaFayette.”  While we were there, we made some connections with churches in the North Georgia area and got to know some of the people my parents know.  From there, we made two trips to South Carolina, one to Florida, one to Mississippi, one to Alabama, and one to Connecticut.  (I know.  That was a bit far.)  In all of these places, we were dependent upon the generosity of friends, relatives, or churches to give us a place to stay so that we wouldn’t have to sleep in the car. 
Today, in my private devotions, I realized something.  We have been blessed by not owning a home right now. I know that I would like to settle back into a house or condo one day, but right now God has given me a real sense of peace and contentment about our current situation.  I do not take that blessing lightly.
So let me enumerate some of the blessings I see in being homeless.

1. We do not have a house payment or electric or water bills.
2. We do not have to worry about maintenance or break-ins while we’re gone. 
3. No one has to be hired to cut the grass, mow the lawn, or check our furnace.
4. We are connecting with many of my far-flung family. Right now, we are staying with my brother and his wife in Louisiana. I hadn’t seen them since Christmas, and I had never visited them here. On this long trip we will also see my brother in the Chicago area and another brother in Minneapolis.
5. We are getting to see some people I haven’t seen in years.  On Wednesday and Thursday, we will be staying with one of my roommates from high school.  I haven’t seen her since I left Venezuela 42 years ago.  I’m so excited!  Then we will be visiting the place where Charlie worked with the Apaches, and then another former co-worker in Arizona. Then in a couple weeks, we’ll be staying with a college friend.  I haven’t seen her in over ten years.  We also hope to pass through Spencer, IA, where my dad pastored for a number of years and touch base with friends there.  I could go on because the list of people we hope to see is getting longer as the days go by.  What sweet reunions!
6. “Window shopping” poses no hazards to our bank account.  It’s simply an appreciation of the beautiful and/or efficient things that are available.  I can enjoy them with my eyes without feeling any need to own them.
7. I get to see the many ways that women turn a house into a home for their families.  I love the personalized decorating that I see that reflects a family’s personality and life.
8. I learn new ways to be more effective in my own life and ministry.  Sometimes that’s in watching a busy family manage all the needs of the individuals.  Sometimes it’s by paying attention to a new organizational or management technique that will help me.  Sometimes it’s just by listening to our host pray.

The Son of Man had no place to lay his head.  He has not asked us to sleep outside on the hard ground.  We have not even had to make do with our car, so I’m sure we are much better off than He was.  But we are learning what it means to be homeless in a ministry kind of way, and that’s a good thing.

Homecoming

The airplane starts its descent and for the first time I see "dirt in the water". The first sight of land in over two hours. As we descend, the distant landscape draws closer and I see the trees, hills, and farmland of the Dominican Republic. They are different from the trees, hills, and farmland of Maine where I have lived for over 13 years. They are different from the trees, hills, and farmland of any other place I have called home. They are exotic; palms, tropical jungle, sugar cane, and then the south coast comes into view, the water different from any in the northern seas. Yet with all this difference, my heart says I am home! It is not because now that we do not own a fixed residence "Home is where my wife is". I did not feel at home in NY or Miami, even though we were together. No, coming to the Dominican Republic felt like a homecoming because I knew what we would find there; a reunion with the brothers and sisters of the Dominican church. I knew we would be welcomed with open arms and open hearts. I knew we would start off just like we had been gone only a short time instead of 21 months. All the things you would expect if you were coming home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Now I realize that "Home is where the Lord leads us!"

Homesick for Heaven

“We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” II Corinthians 5:8

When the sun comes up in the morning and paints the sky with gold, and the clouds shimmer as though they hide angels, and the deep blue sky behind the bright spring green of the trees reminds me of the beauty of summer flowers still to come, I marvel at the creative hand of God. Then when I stand on the ocean’s rocky shore and watch the sea spray reach for the sky, see the cormorants dive for their food and hear the seals bark, I wonder why God made such an incredibly beautiful earth for us to enjoy. When I have stood on the sandy beaches of tropical isles and seen the last glow of the sun paint a path across the calm seas, I have dreamed of being able to walk that path and arrive at the other end in heaven.

I think I have always longed for heaven. When I was eight years old, I dreamed of it. I saw the radiant glow of the golden city and wanted to go there, but it was blocked from me. In my dream, a glass dome covered the city and I could not go inside. But oh, how I longed to be there. After that, I prayed every night for a long time that Jesus would come back before morning. When I awoke in the morning, I was so disappointed to awake in my bed in my own room. But I bounded happily out of bed saying to myself, Maybe tonight He will come and this will be my last day to enjoy.

God had spread so much beauty around for us to enjoy. The star-filled nights and trembling thunderstorms, the whispering fall of white snow, the frozen rivers that crack and break under spring’s thaw, the eagles, seagulls, and hawks that fly past my windows, and the first shoots of spring flowers pushing up through the mud. I could go on and on. Our world is so beautiful.
God has also filled my life with many good things. I have a husband I love and family and friends who are precious to me. I have a roof over my head and clothes to wear. I do not lack for food. Yet I long for heaven.

Almost every day something beckons my heart toward that place where Jesus will reign supreme. It will be so much better to be with Him. I long for the day when I will be able to bow at the feet of the Savior of my soul and thank Him face to face for His saving grace. I look forward to the day when I will stand with myriads of people raising our voices with one loud voice, singing "Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb!"