Somewhere Over the Rainbow

             What do you think when you see a rainbow? Do you imagine a pot of gold at the other end? Ponies, cotton candy clouds, and princesses? A fulfilled promise that has lasted for centuries? A continual reminder of the love God has for such a sinful race?

            Earlier this week, I saw a rainbow. It was not one like I have ever seen before. It seemed to be giving off its own light, as if it had some sort of internal light source. However, from what little I have heard about rainbows, I have never learned about self-sufficient rainbows. They always have to gain light from another source in order to be visible. I can imagine that the first rainbow that Noah saw was more than bright; perhaps more brilliant and spectacular than anything that we see today.

            I saw a children’s video today about Noah. He looked like Santa who was riding in a boat full of smiling, talking animals that could not have been happier to ride on Clause Cruise Lines. The reality is that no one was smiling at that time: not a single animal was sitting on Mrs. Noahs’ lap purring. For 120 years Noah had been preaching the absurd truth that an unheard of natural disaster was going to strike. One hundred and twenty years is a long time to ponder on something and wonder if you are crazy like everyone says. To put the icing on the pickle, he went into the crazy house that he had been building and was closed in with no way out. That was just the beginning of the nightmare.

                        As the violence of the storm increased, trees, buildings, rocks, and earth were hurled in every direction. The terror of man and beast was beyond description. Above the roar of the tempest was heard the wailing of a people that had despised the authority of God. Satan himself, who was compelled to remain in the midst of the warring elements, feared or his own existence. (Patriarchs and Prophets p. 99)

            The ruler of the world feared for his life. He was the one who supposedly had control over it all, yet this was far beyond his power. After the wild tempests roared, the trial continued. Noah was forced to stay in that ark for a long time with all those stinky, cramped, noisy animals. Even when he was able to get out of the ark onto land, imagine what it would have looked like. All had undergone a dramatic change. The gems that once decorated the surface of the earth had disappeared. The beautiful trees and forests that covered the land were torn down. Nothing would have looked similar to what they knew. But, all of the people in the world were present for that first rainbow in the sky. How majestic it would have seemed in comparison to the destruction that abounded. Almost like a peace that transcends all understanding.   

            What do you think crossed Noah’s mind the second time he saw a rainbow? Perhaps there was a sudden fear that rose up within him followed by a supernatural calming. Maybe he had flashbacks of all the animals screaming out in terror while he feared for his life. Yet, even though he may have felt these emotions, I am sure he was reminded of the promise that God had made when the first appeared. An overwhelming sense of relief that never again would they encounter a disaster like that.; the promise that God made to all generations to come.

            Now I want to change from Noah to you. Do thick, dark clouds seem to be surrounding you right now? A storm so ferocious that it feels like it is about to take over your life? That no matter how strong you may be, you will never last to see the sunlight of day again? Perhaps no one on earth will understand the trial you are facing. There is no place to turn for a mighty arm to pull you through the obscurity. Yet the promise of God was not only for Noah, but also for you. God made the covenant with you, but it is not until after the gloomy skies come that we will see the rainbow in the sky.

            “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6,7

I’m learning to look beyond the dark storm that I’m in and Belize that I will see the rainbow on the other side because God has promised.

Rain, Rocks, Royalty

          One Miracle After Another, a book about one man’s struggles living as an Adventist in Communist times, was quite inspirational. It recounted the times that Pavel Goia refused to go to school on Sabbath, yet every Saturday school was cancelled due to severe weather conditions or other abnormal circumstances causing his absence to be unnoticed. I was so awestruck to see how God worked all things according to His good for this man that put all his trust in God. However, I never felt that would be a reality for me: only a good story that I once read in a fascinating book. I have been amazed to see how God has answered my unspoken prayer week after week.

            As missionaries, we are supposed to be reaching those around us to help them find the way to Jesus. Santa Marta, a small village about 10 miles North of our project, has become one of the main focuses for our outreach. Every Sunday, a group of us make the 35-minute drive to go study with some of our new friends. Two weeks ago, there was a hurricane along the eastern side of Mexico that traveled south. There was severe flooding in Mexico and parts of Belize. Although our houses were not underwater, we experienced rain for about a week and a half. The rain fell from the heavens all day, every day. Mud half way to my knees, damp clothes that never smelled good, halted work for all, gloomy spirits wondering if sun would ever be seen again. However, when Sunday arrived, there was no rain. We traveled to Santa Marta, enjoyed fellowship with others, witnessed, and returned home safely. The next week could only promise better. Sun shining every day, work continued as normal. The heat was exhaustive, but what a blessing to be able to walk on solid ground once again. The week passed by and Sunday arrived once again. As irony would have it, the black clouds gathered right before we left for our outreach. The drive along the bumpy pathway was slow and slippery. The clouds opened up and poured down upon us. With dashed hopes and no remembrance of God’s providing in the past, we trudged along. The sun began to peak through the parting clouds driving the rain away. Once again, we had a day of outreach without any rain. As I recalled these last two weeks, I was reminded how every Sunday that we have gone to Santa Marta, we have always had pleasant weather without any rain. Even when I was not praying for God to hold the rain back, He knew what was best for us and provided accordingly.

            Some may consider moving rocks a form of punishment. I actually enjoy it most days! After mowing the fields with the tractor, I try and remove as many boulders as possible so that the following cutting does not dig up so many buried treasures. Although the work is tiring, sweaty, and mundane, I have been able to learn valuable lessons. The saying, “ It’s just the tip of the iceberg” has not meant so much as in the last few days. Even though the temperature would never allow for a frozen mountain, the concept still applies. When I find a rock, I first try to pick it up. If it is stuck, I try to hit it with a large iron rod to loosen it. If that fails, I start prying with the bar. Occasionally the picking, hitting, and prying all fail. In these severe circumstances, drastic measures are called for. I get the shovel, pry bar, and water bottle then start working. Yesterday I had a monster just barely poking its head out of the ground. What looked like a five-minute job lasted for forty-five minutes. I was just about to give up on its removal when I decided to give one last effort. Much to my dismay, it budged ever so slightly. Oh bother! I knew that I could not give up then. Despite my lack of strength or energy, I pressed on in the work that lay ahead. With every ounce of effort that I had left, I finally managed to remove the beast that was giving me such grief. The only task that loomed was getting it into the one-wheeled chariot to take it to its destiny, the rock pile. I tipped the wheelbarrow on its side and heaved with all my might. Victory at last! An enormous feeling of success swept over me as I finally dumped it out. It reminded me that in my times of distress, Christ gives me the strength I need to accomplish the task He gives me.             

            This last Sabbath, I had the opportunity to read a chapter out of Ellen White’s compilation entitled Prayer. A thought hit me like a ton of bricks (or maybe rocks may be more apropos): What a privilege prayer is for humans. In the story of Esther, one can read how perilous it was to come before the king without being summoned. People risked life simply to be in the presence of another mortal. Simply by the king’s word could a person’s fate be determined. Can you imagine the terror that must have plagued Esther as she walked through the corridor of the palace on her way to face life or death? Every day, I come into the presence of the King. But unlike the kings of old, my King has given me an open invitation to come visit Him. I never have to travel for miles or days to come into His presence. He will never reject me or sentence me to death, regardless of what baggage I bring along with me. And the best part is that He is pleading for me to come into His presence every day. He delights when you choose to visit Him in the morning and talk with Him throughout the day. I beckon you to take advantage of this superior opportunity that has been granted to each one of us. I guarantee that if you trust Him with all of you life’s work, you will not be disappointed. Results may not be expected, so make sure you are holding on tight to His hand.

I once Belized that I like to do manual labor… now I’m positive (as a proton!).

Being Heard

            I wrote this blog about 2 months ago, at the beginning of my trip to Asia. Just remembered that I had not yet posted it. Hope you enjoy it even though it is a bit delayed...

            “And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.” –Isaiah 65:24

            I don’t particularly care to talk non-stop, but I do get a warm feeling inside when someone wants to listen when I do talk. There is something about the undivided attention of another that gives us a sense of satisfaction. Often times, we may feel dejected because we think that no one hears our voice or cares about us. But the great promise that God has given us in Isaiah should give us an overwhelming sensation of worth. The King of the entire universe wants to listen to me in all my unintelligent, selfish, and sinful times. Not only does He listen, but He also answers before I even start calling on Him. He definitely answered my petition today before I was even aware of the situation.

            The countdown was quickly nearing zero; it was happening and I could not truly believe it. I was going to be leaving for the United States to see my family, but it all seemed so surreal. All us missionaries packed into the truck and headed to the bus station. The anticipation was starting to grow, but lack of sleep was making me want to go to bed more than the bus station. After a hug from every “family member” in our group, I boarded the bus looking forward to the time when I would be reunited with my Belize family.

            Getting across the boarder from Belize to Mexico is a long process. Whenever I travel, I ask God to help me meet any divine appointments with a willingness to speak whatever He needs the other person to hear. I need His strength because I grew up knowing Stranger Danger: Don’t talk to strangers and definitely don’t take candy from them! I have no natural inclination to speak to strangers. The girl who was sitting behind me on the bus struck up a conversation with me while we waited in line at the boarder. She asked what I was doing in Orangewalk because she noticed that I was hugging all my “family” before I left. I started telling her about our project and other projects around the world. She seemed interested in what I had to say, so I kept talking. I was telling how different projects have need of different skills. I mentioned teachers, health care, and off handedly mentioned people who were involved in the arts. She seemed to take special interest in this one so I continued to talk more about the opportunities available in other parts of the world. Turns out she is an artist, among many other things, in Toronto. I do not know what impact I had on her, but I know that God was using me to say something to her. All I can do is pray that God will continue to put opportunities before her to learn more about Him.

            I woke up to the bus driver shining a flashlight in my face calling for all those going to Tulum, La Playa, and other places besides the airport. Our bus was broken down on the side of the road and we were going nowhere. After about an hour, we were on our way to the airport again. When we arrived, I knew I had missed my flight. Not only had I lost an hour on the roadside, but I had also forgot about the hour I lost when I crossed the boarder. Though I walked into the airport with little confidence in the situation, I decided that I would trust that God had a plan to get me home.

            The Delta ticket counter was very intimidating, but I had to face it. I explained the situation to them and asked about the possibilities available to me. The whole time I prayed that God’s will would be done, even if that meant me having to purchase a new ticket. They said I could get on another flight, but I was going to be charged $200 USD in addition to the difference in the cost of the tickets. I dreaded the thought of spending that much money, but it was the only option available. I handed them my debit card so they could take out the amount I owed. My card was denied, and although I had four currencies in my purse, I did not have enough of any to pay for the ticket in cash. The attendant pointed me to the nearest ATM where I waited for the machine to become available. Moments later, the same attendant came running over to me. My situation had been explained to the supervisor and had been allowed the change free of charge! An immense relief swept over me as I realized that although it seemed like everything was going wrong, God just wanted me to trust His leading.

I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I do know that I am in the airport, I have a ticket to the States, and I have the promises of God always with me.

Dear God,

            I’m learning to Belize in Your promises more and more everyday. Thanks for Your strength this morning and everyday. 

My Hurting Waffle and Other Happenings

     Have you ever had a serious conversation with someone who didn't speak English as a first language? Was there ever a moment where the language barrier made it difficult to communicate an idea? I was talking to a friend who was talking about her "eggo." I immediately thought about those tasty waffles I used to eat with peanut butter, applesauce, and strawberries on top. I started laughing. She was so confused because she knew what she meant, but I was dreaming of breakfast. After the laughing ceased, I told her we pronounce it with a hard "e" to make it ego not eggo. We both giggled about it again. Now, we talk about our hurt "waffles" if something of that nature happens. Today was one of those days that I happen to injure my waffle:

     It was another normal day in the life of a missionary: going to town, becoming legal in the country, getting called to be a secretary, driving a monster sized truck so we could pick up a fridge from town. I parked the truck in a lot then went about my business in town. The reason that I park the truck and walk everywhere is because the streets are often narrowed by all the cars parked along the one way streets. It is not practical to try and find a place to park at every stop. After running through town doing all the errands, the girls asked me to go get the truck so we could load up what we purchased at the store. I walked down the block to the parking lot and got turned around, ready to head back to the store. As I came down the driveway and turned the sharp corner, I heard a loud noise coming from the back right side of the truck.  OH NO! I had checked my mirror as I came out to make sure that I was clear of the little red truck on the corner, but had failed to recheck as I was finally pulling out. I was too focused on the sidewalk that was quickly approaching in front of me. I backed up in horror as the trucks noisily exchanged paint. Immediately, I realized that I was in the dually. There was no way I could have made that tight pinch without something scraping. I was stuck in a predicament: only one person had seen me, but he simply told me I could go out the other way and leave the scene. The little red truck was already beat up pretty bad; I had just added a little character to it. I struggled for a moment, but decided that I needed to do the right thing. I prayed the whole time as I waited for the owner to come out of the store. There he was, standing at the rear corner of the vehicle to examine his new paint job. Oh great! The fact that I am a gringa is going to make this even more difficult. I timidly got out of the truck and walked to the doom I had to face. As he looked up at me, a smile started to form across my lips. A feeling of relief swept over me as the pastor looked up from his truck at me. I apologized for the mishap and explained the situation to him. He energetically replied, "Oh, I thought I had already tied that back on!"We had a good laugh about it, then drove our separate ways. When we were driving away, I told the girls that I was glad only my waffle got injured.
I guess it pays to be honest. I could have driven off and escaped a potentially ugly situation, but then what would my conscience have been going through? Instead, I decided to trust God. He sometimes has funny ways to bring our confidence back in check.

Other happenings since my last entry:

• We got ELECTRICITY! Not that much has changed except the temperature of the fridge, but the possibilities are much more exciting.
• Three who were missing from our family have now returned from the States.
• I went to Mexico for two and a half weeks.
• Planted 55 plantains that will hopefully be producing within the next year.
• Learned how to drive the skid steer.
• Painted the kitchen and living room in our new house.
• My work permit was approved! Praise the Lord!

I Belize I had a mountain of red strawberries on my waffle after I drove away.

My Field of Prayer

          Sometimes God calls you to do something that is beyond anything you have ever completed by yourself. It is in that time that He longs for you to depend on His power.

I arrived in Belize about four months ago. At that time,I was introduced to my new job: 1.21 acres of sprouting green onions. They had been planted in November and were struggling in the first moments of life. They stared into the face of death by fungus with little hope of survival. The question faced me, what next?

What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right? Well, those onions bore the scars of that near death experience, but lived on to sing another verse. The next trial soon arrived. February marked the beginning of dry season in Belize. The ground would go for weeks without a drop of liquid life. There is no human replacement for God's gift of rain. The irrigation system was constantly supplying, but never enough. Daily prayers were sent up to the Master Farmer pleading for the survival of the crop.

In the critical moments, God supplied the rain and brought the onions through another trial. But, He continued to test our reliance on Him. What first seemed like a little problem soon turned into a nightmare. Grotesque, rotund worms infested the tips of the plants. Days of worm executions followed. They fell by the thousands at the hands of helpers sent by God. The victory of life for the onions was once again won.

A proud parent looks upon a child with great joy when that offspring moves into a new chapter of life. Likewise, we waited with great joy as the onions triumphed over many trials. However, one predicament still loomed: drying the onions before rainy season arrived. Once again, prayers were sent up for the rain, but instead of the gift of precipitation, we were praying for the drought to continue while we frantically worked.  By God's amazing grace, we have sold all the onions. In our greatest expectations, we hoped for 6,000 lbs of onions. God yielded His crop of approximately 7,500 lbs!

Last thoughts:
When God calls you, He expects great things for you. You should expect that He will fulfill His expectations through you.

Even if we had lost the entire crop, I know God would have had a success. He taught me so much about prayer, reliance on Him, and His unfailing love for me. It is impossible for God to fail. It may not be the results we hoped for, but it was His plan.

~"Therefore I say unto you, what things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.~      Mark 11:24

I'm still in a state of disBelize. God can make a farmer out of me yet.

Potluck Epiphany

           This last week I had an epiphany! It all started around Tuesday morning when I was cooking breakfast. There often times will be a little bit of leftover oatmeal, which consequently gets added to the next morning’s fresh oatmeal. It seemed like the oatmeal was becoming a sourdough starter: no matter how many times you use it, you always still have a little bit of the original. This particular morning, we really seemed to overdo the amount needed for breakfast. With thoughts of the next breakfast, Phoebe put the remains in the fridge.

Lunches tend to have a similar outlook. If there are leftovers that need to be used, use them however seems fit. The split peas from the previous day were not enough alone, but the black beans were almost enough. We mixed those and threw in some two-day-old rice for good measure. (Now you need to understand that the guys here at the property are not very picky eaters. My menu options are “take it or leave it.” I cannot recollect a time when they chose the latter.) I thought we could finally finish that bean concoction and clear out the fridge a bit. However, much to my dismay, there was excess at the end of the meal. So once again, I put it in a container and threw it into the fridge.

By suppertime, I was getting tired of seeing those same old beans. That was when I had one of my first great ideas: Why not make black bean burgers! It was a great way to get rid of the beans and still follow the menu of hamburgers. DOUBLE BONUS! I could use the beans and the leftover oatmeal to make the patties. I started mixing and flavoring and frying all proud of what I was doing with the survivors. We all enjoyed a supper of something that seemed brand new. But once again, the terror hit when I found that there were a plethora of burgers after all had consumed to satisfaction. AYE AYE AYE! Back to the cold casket they went.

Oatmeal breakfast was no longer making the cut. Us girls had a wild spell by cooking biscuits and gravy without any oatmeal in the mix! Preparing food for fourteen people is much different than preparing for six. Since we recently had a significant drop in the number of herbivorous homo sapiens, we have been making a bit too much at mealtimes. The gravy was good, but there was too much goodness for breakfast. So (you guessed it) it became leftovers.

The culmination of the hodgepodge of scraps was about to go down. This was when I had my potluck epiphany! We used the gravy from breakfast to smother the burgers from two nights previous which were compiled of day old oatmeal mixed with reused rice and recycled beans leaving me with leftovers to the eighth power, plus or minus two days. This was an exact replica of the mystery gravy and patties dishes that so often plague the potluck table. The only thing Ray could say was, “You girls are creative!”

Are you stuck in a spiritual slough? Do you find yourself eating “plain oatmeal” everyday without any satisfaction? Ever thought about trying it out for more than just a breakfast. What about letting Jesus be your oatmeal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Just because you read your Bible for one hour every morning does not mean that you are tight with Jesus. Try and make Him real in your life today. Spice things up a bit by trying new ideas in your devotions. Share your ideas with a friend, because by sharing you will gain another blessing.

I can’t Belize how creative my cooking has become since I left the United States.