we are gearing up for a ministry trip to malaysia, complete with little daughter emma in tow.

exciting! and we will reconnect with two of our most special spiritual children...and their little ones whom we haven't met yet! YAY!!!

physical challenges these past few weeks have made going an uncertainty, but everything seems to have settled down (thank you SO much, dear old bodies...) and i think we're green light.

as we say here in the philippines.

so i will probably be off line for 6-7 days...a nice break from the discipline of blogging, and a time to reflect, share, and enjoy the wonders of a place i've never been.

see you all when we get back!

my budding little photographer!

emma loves taking pictures, being in pictures, and looking at pictures.

she's a 'face' person.

when we're going to sleep, i can't turn on my side away from her; "mommy, i need to see your face" says she plaintively, her little hand tugging till i turn over.

we have quite a few photographers in our family; i think another one is coming up right here!

and i think she'll focus on faces.

there's a lesson here somewhere.

perhaps we all need to remember to not turn our backs on each other, to look each other in the face and commune, and above all-

to seek HIS FACE.

look at his face.

the man, not the dog.

:)

genetics.

an amazing thing.

is it possible that these two noses are related? regardless of the skin tone, the different nostrils, and centuries of breeding innumerable features unique to each of us, how did we end up with that same curve of the nose?

they call it a roman nose.

luis is a spanish/mexican/filipino aristocrat.

i am an irish/english/scottish commoner.

yet...somewhere in our past genetic history, lurks a common ancestor who had THIS NOSE.

i love it.

and....since it is highly possible/probable that my father is a "black irish" (black hair and blue eyes), that COULD mean that somewhere in my past is a dark-haired, dark-eyed Spaniard who swam ashore from the sinking armada and intermarried with a white-skinned irish lassie with blue eyes and red hair.

luis...denie...related? just for fun, i believe so.

i have a traveling husband.

for the past 40 years of marriage, there have been many separations due to his work. he's jaunted all over the world, starting shortly after we were married. he's been to many exotic places, where he's preached and had adventures.

i have mostly stayed home with the kids. my choice, and my preference. i'm a homebody. i have no need to go to exotic places- i'm blessed enough to live in one.

thinking over this lifestyle, i've come up with a slightly silly list of some good things and some bad things about having a traveling man.

GOOD THINGS:

-i don't have to cook
-no dirty clothes on the bathroom floor (ALMOST in the hamper)
-quiet evenings when i can stay up as late as i want
-time to do crafts/writing/shopping without thinking of when he'll be home and wanting to see me
-long bubblebaths uninterrupted, except for emma...
-nobody walking around behind me shutting off lights and aircons
-i can jump in the van and take off at a moment's notice to pretty much anywhere i want


BAD THINGS:

-nobody to make my evening cup of tea
-having to pay bills/deal with business things all alone
-no muscle around to open jars and pry things loose
-nobody to talk to except emma- and she's just 3
-i have to be responsible for vehicle situations that sometimes arise (scary)
-answering dumb phone calls for him from telemarketers
-wondering what he's doing at any given moment
-worrying about his safety/health when i don't hear from him for days at a time

i see there is one more negative than positive. that's interesting. perhaps i should go over it and make it even...no, i'll leave it the way it is. stream of consciousness and all that.

well...this is our life. we are happy with our choice, and we roll with what God has given us. no point in complaining...no point in whining.

even emma is used to it now...she ordered "chocolate and cookies" when he left tonight for india- again. and once she told a nice fellow we met that "my daddy is india". hmmm. he was at the time, but she made it sound like that's where he lived!

so i guess what i'm trying to say is: there are some good things and some bad things about him being gone a lot...but the best is that he always comes back home. and that's so nice.

the end.

elijah and emma dancing to weird al.

what can i say.

this is the kind of house we have.

and we love it.

emma and her "pig dog" grumpy. he's a sweetie. she adores him. and- i must confess- so do we.

MEET GRUMPY. ;)

the things we do for love...

this is one of them.

our election is over.

sigh.

have we been condemned to another twelve years of corruption?

the hearts of men are not right. few in government have a strong conscience.

many of the candidates are excellent in speech, but inferior in behavior according to the standards of christian ethics.

too much "give" in their backbones.

i'm proud of the way Pinoys went to the polls and stood for hours in the heat and voted.

i am not proud to hear of ballots with money stapled to them, handed out at the doors of the precincts.

however.

progress comes slowly. let's try to look at the bright side.

and let's pray pray pray that Noynoy has enough guts to stand up to Binay.

^=^

WINGS healing notes continued...


Tools for the Healing Process

The power of His written Word

Jeremiah 15:16 “Your words came to me, and I listened carefully to them. Your words made me very happy, because I am called by your name, Lord God All-Powerful.”

1 Peter 2:2 “As newborn babies want milk, you should want the pure and simple teaching (of the word). By it you can grow up and be saved…” (italics mine)

His healing presence

Luke 4:18 “The Lord has put His Spirit in me, because he appointed me to tell the Good News to the poor. He has sent me to tell the captives they are free and to tell the blind that they can see again. God sent me to free those who have been treated unfairly and to announce the time when the Lord will show his kindness.”

Isaiah 53:5 …He was wounded for the wrong we did; he was crushed for the evil we did. The punishment which made us well was given to him, and we are healed because of his wounds.”

Isaiah 43:1-3 “Now this is what the Lord says, He created you, people of Jacob, he formed you, people of Israel. He says, “Don’t be afraid, because I have saved you. I have called you by name, and you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. When you cross rivers, you will not drown. When you walk through fire, you will not be burned, nor will the flames hurt you.

(V. 4) Because you are precious to me, because I give you honor and love you, I will give other people in your place, I will give other nations to save your life…”

God loves you so much! He just wants your healing and your freedom….more than you do!

Rejoice that He is on your side!

He cares about you!

He knows your past, and your hurts, and He is here to heal and deliver you!

Rejoice!!!!


The help of godly counselors:

Proverbs 11:13 “Gossips can’t keep secrets, but a trustworthy person can.”

Proverbs 12:18 “Careless word stab like a sword, but wise words bring healing.”


The hugs and listening ears of compassionate friends. (support group included)

Proverbs 17:17 “A friend loves you all the time, and a brother helps in time of trouble.”

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10 “Two people are better than one, because they get more done by working together. If one falls down, the other can help him up. But it is bad for the person who is alone and falls, because no one is there to help.”

Renewing Your Mind with the Word of God

Romans 12:2b…”be transformed (changed from the inside out) by the renewing of your mind…” ...to be continued...

Mother Knows

Another morning flushes into dawn,
In fiery heat-waves climbs the sun on high,
The dew begins to sparkle on the lawn,
A feathered chorus twitters from nearby.

Within the house, the early morning bustle
Of children washing, rushing, finding clothes,
Creates a loud and cheerful-sounding hustle,
That can be quite exhausting, Mother knows!

There are the many lunches to be made,
The porridge to be dished out, Baby fed,
The squabbles of the little boys delay
The action, and the time has onward sped-

But finally, all six are off to school.
The housework can be tackled, dishes done,
The morning flies by being worked to death
As Mother tries to keep up with the sun.

And so the day speeds by, how fast it goes!
Yet each small deed, each smile, each task well done
Is laid for heaven’s foundations, Mother knows,
And will be counted when the earth is gone.

Yes, Mother knows…

She knows the thrill of each wee baby clasp,
The joy of eyes that glow with childish glee;
The sweetness of a unity in work-
And yet…

She also knows heartaches and pain,
The weary oppression of each day in a messy house
Full of sick and whining babies;
The fears that crowd her mind and tears that fall,
The worn spot on the floor where she has knelt
When the burden became too heavy.

But some day, as she stands before the throne
Of One who judges all, both quick and dead,
He’ll say, “Here is your crown”,
And Mother will take it, shining with eight glorious stars.
For she has led her eight children safe into the fold
Of God’s great love.

She has guided the souls entrusted to her care
Into the harbor, where they will be
Safe home at last.

written by Denie, age 13.

skin
turning slowly to
parchment

gentle wrinkles
creeping creeping

vision narrowing
on the peripheral

stomach choosing
circumspectly

clandestine marking
of stations of comfort
chair
rest room
eating places

the familiar safe things
more necessary

welcome the enclosing
of life

"O God of the impossible!
Since all things are to Thee
But soil in which Omnipotence
Can work almightily,

Each trial may to us become
The means that will display
How o'er what seems impossible
Our God hath perfect sway!

The very storms that beat upon
Our little barque so frail,
But manifest Thy power to quell
All forces that assail.

The things that are to us too hard,
The foes that are too strong,
Are just the very ones that may
Awake a triumph song.

O God of the impossible,
When we no hope can see,
Grant us the faith that still believes
ALL possible to Thee!

J.H.S. (Springs in the Valley)

Mother's Day is coming.

I miss my mother.

She's been gone almost 20 years, and I miss her every single day.

She died too early...she never saw the things I wanted to show her.

She's never seen my baby girl.

She's never seen where I live, here across the world...

I want her in my kitchen, sipping tea at the table and us talking about nothing and everything.

I want to see her at the stove, cooking...in the garden, weeding on her knees as she loved to do...

So many experiences we'll never share again.

Mother's Day is coming, and my heart longs for a mother.

But there is still joy- because she loved me.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom...I miss you...


As the hand is made for holding
and the eye for seeing
You have fashioned me for joy.

Share with me the vision
that shall find it everywhere

in the wild violet's beauty
in the lark's melody
in the face of a steadfast man
in a child's smile
in a mother's love
in the purity of Jesus.

(Gaelic prayer)

i know it looks like i'm wearing NOTHING, but i did have a wrap on.

:)

oh emma.

my precious little girl.

my heart broke for you today.

you are brown, beautiful, and so sweet...and you ran into your classroom shouting gleefully to your classmates, "can i play? can i play?"

and a harsh little voice snapped, "no. we don't want brown kids. only white girls can play with us."

and your little feet slowed, your head hung down, and you quietly went to the corner and played alone in the kitchen center.

my heart cracked.

the child who spoke this racist statement is the teacher's little girl. the teacher is a lovely woman, a good teacher and a wonderful missionary. i'm sure she never, ever told her child to say this.

i spend a few minutes explaining to the child, as she sat on her mom's lap being chastened quietly, that she had hurt emma's feelings, and that we are all the same even if our skin is different. i asked her, "how would you feel if a group of brown kids said you couldn't play with them because you're white?"

here's what my husband thinks happened:

he thinks, probably correctly, that this family, and for sure this little girl, HAS NO BROWN FRIENDS.

the world is a harsh place for minorities...and my sweet emma is already learning that in certain settings she is different, she is a minority.

when my older kids were small, they were a minority- white faces and blond hair in a sea of brown and black.

they learned.

but oh, that first wounding. the first time to realize you are not wanted because of what you look like.

people, we need to be-friend each other. we need to move past acquaintance and into love.

we need to fall in love with the human race in all it's glorious differences. i do not see my child as brown- i forget it sometimes.

would that we all could do that. not color blind, but color aware, and in love with each other.

sigh.

gentle days

peaceful nights

the easy rhythm of time
in my small world

so small it is...

waking
sleeping
eating
walking
reading

growing up a child

her little world is mine
and joyful it is

the miracle of the alphabet
the wonder of numbers
each step of growth
wondrous and astonishing

it's a small world, after all
a small, good world

some days i wonder about this.

i am almost 60, after all.

a very young 60, but nevertheless.

raising a child is not for the faint of heart, although when i was young and much, much smarter, i knew exactly what i was up against.

there is nothing i have not seen an almost 4-year-old do. and on a scale of 1 to ten, 1 being the easiest child in the world, emma is about a 4. she is sweet, intelligent, pliable for the most part, and came with no major problems other than dental issues.

but....

some days i am just tired.

i love my little girl. i would die for her. but oh man, is she a talking machine and a drama queen, and just getting into the stage where mommy has to "play-play-play with me?"

so i do.

i spend hours playing dress-up as a princess, conducting weddings, taking care of our dollies, interacting with our dogs (no easy task- an ADHD beagle and a ODD mutt), reading books...

hours and hours. every moment precious.

and sometimes, at the end of the day, i just want to sit down and have a cup of tea and forget that Winnie the Pooh or Sleeping Beauty ever existed. i want to talk to daddy without a very newly discovered LOUD VOICE interrupting every 5 seconds.

but i seldom get to do that, because by the time little girl is ready for bed, i am too.

this is the price i pay for being almost 60.

my bedtime is 8 pm.

oh well.

life goes on.