To the Moon and Back

Have you ever wondered why some of Gods creatures are, for lack of a better word, ugly? Worms, and caterpillars that slither and slide, or beetles and ants that lumber and creep. We have many different insects here, in our home and out. The ones that irritate me the most are the ones that fly. As the rains start to come, at nowhere near the ideal frequency, the insects, plants, and animals start to grow and thrive again. As the sun goes down on our little sliver of Guatemala, the bugs start to come alive. In-between dinner preparations, baths and refereeing, I will squish and swat with a vengeance, and without mercy, except for when it comes to moths. They strike me as such unfortunate creatures.

Most children, as do mine, often confuse moths for butterflies. The easiest way to tell the two apart is by the way they rest. While moths rest with the wings open, butterflies rest with their wings closed together, hiding their beauty.  I sometimes wonder to which I bare more resemblance of in my life, either through my domestic capabilities and shortcomings, or character traits and flaws.

These past few weeks have been good for us with company from all over the country, and progress on the new facility. The fourth cargo container headed for Canilla has arrived in the Northern port of Guatemala. We will likely dance around requirements and paperwork for the next 4 weeks, until we are able to travel to Quiche, the closest town to us with paved roads, and receive the contents. This shipment contains the normal assortment of seemingly random, unrelated items for construction, but also includes a large portion of the medical equipment and supplies,  necessary for opening the doors of the new facility, and caring for the patients.

Ryan has begun hanging the doors we built for the clinic and outpatient services portion of the facility. It has been encouraging to see the rooms take shape and resemble something more than Lincoln-Log style structures.
The water system is now in place for the new well.  The system will provide clean, high pressure water to the entire facility, and surrounding dwellings.
The roofing progress has moved to the back portion of the facility as we install the 40 foot sections of steel roofing over the rooms for admitted patients and delivery related care. This is the last portion of roofing on the ground level, and it will likely move slower than the previous sections due to the length of the sheets and the intensity of the sun and its reflecting heat. Roofing has proven to be an exhausting task for the crew on the roof, mostly comprised of family, as they push to cover all the exposed walls and rooms before the rains pick back up.

Our little family farm is growing with the addition of chickens, both meat birds and egg layers. The kids are all pitching in with the animals.  Watching them learn to appreciate their food is encouraging.
The kids continue to grow and embrace this lifestyle. I had someone ask me if this was a good place for them to grow up. I enjoy raising them here, and I think, for the most part the benefits outweigh the disadvantages. I think our children have some of the best of both cultures, but they definitely have access to resources that most children their age, living nearby, do not.


Just last week, we were surprised with a spur of the moment trip into Guatemala City.
We made record time, reaching the outskirt of the capital, in just under 3.5 hours.  Though I wish it was for a break from the normal for a little R&R, we were rushing our middle child, Joshua, to a private hospital for medical attention. After a rather minor fall, Joshua fractured both bones in his left forearm. Despite having a reliable vehicle and finances to afford private care in Guatemala, I was still terrified at the thought of the unknown. During the 3 and a half hours it took to get to the city, as I held Josh, trying to buffer each and every bump, my mind would wander back to that scary 'what if' place.
We were escorted back for an X-ray, minutes after arrival. Within an hour we were discharged, payed our bill and left with a happy camper in a green cast.

As grateful as I am to all who helped with taking care of Josh, and with watching our other children, I feel obligated to return the favor.
If a neighbor would have a similar incident requiring medical care, he would likely drive to Quiche, and receive free, but typically less than good treatment. This doesn't seem acceptable to me. In a matter of months, the facility in our front yard will be equipped to handle cases identical to Joshua's, at little or no cost to the patient,  in a safe and comfortable environment, close to home, handled with love and care.  This is no small feat, and is actually near impossible without your support, prayers and encouragement and Gods favor.
As we work together each day, watching the swirl of responsibility pass over the ministry as a whole, we continue to push on. This is where I wonder if my work is that of a moth or butterfly. Typically, I feel like I can take some of the strain of daily life in stride, and flutter gracefully throughout the day from one task to the next. Unfortunately, when circumstances get the best of me, I sense I take on the traits of a less than glamorous moth. I will fight my way from one minute to the next, struggling to simply stay a flight. At the end of the day, I fall to the ground and rest, with all I have left in me, open, exposed and visible.
It is after those days of feeble flight and performance when I am more receptive to the gentle admiration of a loving creator.
Some day, I hope I can grow, and learn to float through the ripples and challenges, and maybe even soar through this trial of missional life. Thank you for all you do to make this possible, and your role in keeping our boots on the ground. If you are touched or encouraged by our story, trials or transparency, we ask you to consider standing with us int his journey, either through prayer or financial support.
And of course for putting up with me and suffering through my ranting.
Katie Ann Ficker

The construction zone outside my home

A rumble in the distance.

Here I sit, on the eve of a seeminly regular day to all, but I can't help but wonder, if the rumbling I hear is a sign of things to come or simply the side effect of a much needed rain for a nearby village.

We have had a calm Sunday here in Canilla. We enjoyed having some time to be lazy, but after those 5 minutes, we were able to catch up on a few chores and hobbies.

Ryan was able to fire up the engine in the old ford truck today. It is the first time in the last few (5 maybe?) years that the truck has ran. We started converting the truck about 5 months ago. It now has a Dodge engine and a Ford, well, everything else.  I could show you a picture, but it would look like something out of a scrap yard.  Maybe when it looks like a truck again.

We were able to make a few laps around the hospital on wheels today. This has been a fun family activity for us since the completion of the concrete around the courtyard. It was nice to coast around and around in circles. It is such a refreshing time for me. My most complicated decission is whether to turn right or left, and then, I just....coast.

This is it.... the eve of the day I have been dreading for over a year now... I am turning 30 tomorrow. I know, I know... in 20 years I will wish I could be 30 again. For me it is intimidating, and threatening.  I have to act like an adult now. All responsible and propper. Ehhhh, maybe I will get better at pretending.

I guess it is all what we make of it.  Either I am just getting older, or I am living to celebrate another year of life lived, life survived, and lessons learned.

I sure hope it rains tonight, but I wouldn't mind a quiet tansition into 30-hood tomorrow, maybe even a graceful one.

In Between

Here I am. Saturday morning. I don't typically write about nothing, but that is exactly what I am going to do today. 

I am not sad today,  I am not struggling, I am not angry, and I am amazingly normal.... your right it's all relative.

We finished off the morning of chores with a little cold cereal and fresh milk, thanks to my brother-in-law's Jersey cows. Then the boys started in on their laps around the construction site, and will intermittently trade off throughout the day. Audrey is out riding a scooter with our dog, Boone, on her heels. I hear laughter echoing off of the bare walls as she rides away from Boone, giggling. 

The background noises trade off from the air-compressor, which seemingly runs continuously, and the impact drivers the guys are using on the roof. Bilingual chatter is also a frequent, as we continue to talk to each other in English, while communicating with the crew in Spanish.  

There is a constant flow of motorcycle, bicycle and foot traffic, as today is the local produce market in town. The ministry holds one of its weekly, general medical clinic today, about 1/4 mile up the road, so I will see a steady flow of families walking back toeards town after they have been seen. Mostly, we are greeted with curious eyes, but we are always observed. Who can blame them. We are, well... different. 

Looking to the North

The sky is cloudy and the air is filled with a remarkably familiar sent. I swear it is Skunk, but I cant say I have ever seen one here before. When I first smelled the pungent odor floating thru the air yesterday evening, I was almost shocked.  This was a common occurrence for us around the house in Illinois, and I was surprised at how reminiscent that reminder made me. Your right, I am always on the verge of busting out some over romanticized version of life back home. Leave it to me to throw skunks into the mix!!!!  

Looking to the South

I feel like we are living in an eternal summer this year. It has been hot, dry, and brutal for about the last month, but we have had a few days of 80's, and we are all feeling like civilized creatures again, having dry clothes from not sweating and not having to avoiding the sun like vampires. Word on the street is two weeks till the 'rains' come. I will look forward to the rain, but this also means we have to keep pushing on rain preparation. Roofing, gutters, drains, and runoff will become priority once the rains start, especially if they don't fizzle out like last year. Maybe the rains will be consistent enough that we will have a normal growing season this year for all the farmers and livestock. I will appreciate our yard turning from straw and thorns back into grass, and the dramatic decrease in dirt in the house each day. We are accustomed to sand and dirt on our clothes as they dry on the line, and I don't think I will miss it.

Life definitely gets more complicated after the rains start, but it is almost like snow was back home. Production typically slows down, due to weather, and I enjoy the added family time and hoodies. I do love hoodies.

I hope I have not bored you, but I thought we could all use a little good, old-fashioned, normality, at least as I have come to know it. 

Happy Saturday.  Miss you all.

Katie Ann 

One of Those Days

Here I sit.

It is about quarter after nine, on a quiet Wednesday evening.  I sit awake in the living room, sweating. No, not from a late night aerobics binge.
It is just plain H O T, hot!

Yes, I am a Midwesterner, born and raised.  I should be able to take the heat, for I have suffered through 115 degree days with 90% humidity, and no AC.  I will not, however, tell you how many times we drove to the mailbox on those days, just to enjoy the luxuries of Air Conditioning in the car.

There is something about the sun here that makes you feel like one of those poor bugs, being fried under a microscope by an enthralled adolescent. It is unrelenting. It's got to rain at some point, though..... right?

I am having one of those days. And when I say days, what I really mean is years. At least I hope it is only one.

I have not written since last December, almost four months. I am amazed that I was able to squeeze something even slightly intellectually viable out then.   To anyone who subjected themselves to my recent writings, thank you for your unbiased support. And for those of you who haven't, lets just leave it there, in the past. Shall we?  Well, than don't say I didn't warn you!

Some of my close friends and family saw something coming. Whether they saw the writing on the wall, or had personal experience I should have learned from, I was clueless.

 What started out as occasional panic attacks during the night last June, somehow fully transformed into chronic anxiety. I began being relentlessly subjected to fear every moment of my day. When I was not panic stricken, I would live on edge, anticipating the next 'wave' of fear or the next 'attack' that was always lurking around the corner.

It could and did come-on at any moment, without warning. Because of this, I was no longer fit to be alone, or care for my children or our many, MANY ministry responsibilities. We went on in a state of shock for about two months.

At some point along the way, we learned that I was suffering from Anxiety and Depression.

I cant tell you I know when it started, but I think maybe when I was 8?  Or possibly after my oldest son was born, with postpartum depression? Or maybe after I turned 29, last April, and was stricken with homesickness?
You know what, maybe all of the above.
( Psst: That is a hard thing to write)

Maybe I have always struggled with anxiety. Maybe I have always struggled with depression.

Why in the WORLD am I here?  Why did I look like a good candidate for this lifestyle? I mean, really? ME?????
My credentials for the job are something like this:
Adaptability: I cringe at the sight of any bug.
Pacivity: Dirt in my hair or in my food freaks me out.
Tranparency/Communication: I am completely fine with remaining that face in the room, that will always smile, but never wants to talk, especially about myself!

I don't know if a less qualified missionary ever existed! And you want me to raise my family here? And you want me to help build a 20,000 sq/ft structure complete with O.R. suites?  And you want me to live off of 'good will'????

I wish I had another punctuation mark that was more dramatic than an exclamation point,
             !  is just not cutting it!

My Aunt Marilyn learning to make Dobladas

( Deep breath............ ahhhhhh)


Here we are. March, 2016.
 I am almost 7 months into my treatment plan, and I am again beginning to feel normal.
Maybe sadness and worry were my normal? So, I guess I am feeling better than normal.
(Psst: another hard thing to write)

If you are wondering if I have been avoiding another journal entry, or possibly dropped off the face of the Earth?  That is because I was and I did.

A bedtime story by flashlight

Yet here we are. 18 months in Guatemala.
In many ways we are still going strong, and in other ways we are not.
No sugar coating here. You have got the wrong girl for that!

We continue to push forward on the construction. Many days I grow weary. We have had extra hands on deck though, to lend a helping hand or a hug. Since the first of the year hands from all over have come to get involved: Oklahoma, Iowa, Arizona, Illinois, Texas, Kansas, Michigan, Nebraska, Spain, Argentina, and even from our Home Church, in Highland, IL.  The first of my family from back home came to visit and we had a blast! Thanks again for coming Aunt Marilyn!

We are encouraged by each face that steps foot into the construction, and offers gratitude for all the blood sweat and tears that have gone into it. I secretly enjoy watching as first-timers  must tilt their heads back to grasp the enormity of the full structure.

This is how we floor!

Today was one of those days. We started out early, ready to cover about 2,000 sq/ft of cement floors with sealer. We were greeted by our old friends, fatigue and discouragement. We eventually finished what we started.


 It makes me wonder if I have bitten off more than I can chew. Will I be able to see this project through? Will I remain mentally healthy enough to be a blessing and not a burden? Will I be able to protect my family from the sun, the bugs, the food and the motorcycles?  Will we continue to scrape by on what God has provided?

There are so many unknowns for us in each and every day.  Maybe that how it is supposed to work?

If I had all I needed to execute my plan, what use would I have for waiting on His?

Hmmmm???



Thank you for all your love and grace during this time of growth, for myself, our family, and this ministry.

I cherish each person who is limping along on this journey with us, and loving us along the way.
Thanks for your encouragement, patience, understanding and support.

        Katie Ann Ficker

One rare occasion, being allowed out of the
 house to help the guys with a wild fire, and loving it.

A Foreign Land

Today is December 7th, I know, same as there.

I was unaware of the importance of this date until about three hours ago. Shortly after the sun began to set, around 6 pm, the kids and I noticed, actually it was near impossible to ignore, the multitude of fireworks and loud, loud music.  The annual town wide party/fair/carnival will begin tomorrow, I think.

I have since learned that today is "Burn the Devil" day.   I don't know if this limited to Guatemala or is a Latin holiday.  I am sure this is highly unimportant to most of,  if not all of the 15 or so people reading this (I cherish you all).  I only mention this because I was reminded today of a time about 6 month ago, when I was struggling to feel as though my feet had landed in a place where they would ever settle.  This 'holiday' with a festive yet slightly unsettling purpose, reminds me that no matter how comfortable we may become here, whether thru adjusting or compromising to the point where we don't leave the confines of or homes to avoid the surroundings of the day,  that I will always be living in a foreign land. I pray I will never loose the memory of walking into Grandmas house for Christmas, or enjoying a warm summer night with fireworks and hot dogs, and what it felt like to feel a scene of normalcy.

I pray I am not only able to recall those memories for myself, but so that I can remember the importance of each day with my own children. For them, this is home now. They cant remember 10 years ago, much less the good ol' days, back in the 90's, when I remember life being simple and easy. This is their time of building memories and creating traditions. I don't want them to remember all the days we spend in the car, but the way we stuck together on those long days. I don't want them to think of the battle we chose to fight as parents raising our children by faith each day, but of the way we had food on our table and warm beds to sleep in, even on the not-so-quiet nights, like tonight.

Construction is moving along on the new facility. We have completed all concrete work for the interior of the building, and we can shift focus to the roof, water, electrical and septic. Plenty to do for now.

I thank you for reading, loving on us, and praying for all of us here in Guatemala.

Jacob 

Joshua helping out with floating the concrete

A months worth of supplies.

Enjoying the journey

The most active volcano in Guatemala, erupting a little.

Sharing the Vision

We are back! Enjoying all the Dr.Pepper humanly possible, spending time with family and friends and daily trips to Walmart. You know, the simple pleasures of a developed country.

This last week has been a strange transition back into life, as we once knew it.  I know we have a different life in Guatemala, but it feels like a world, or sometimes two, away from the lives we once lived.  Trying to bridge the gap between our new lives and here seems impossible. I find myself stretching to find the words to explain what we do, or where we come from. Trying to explain why we have left everything behind and followed this path is more difficult still. 

If you have a moment, I encourage you to enjoy this short, though informative, video. My friend Caleb Allison put this together, and I feel it conveys more than I can express with words on a page. 

https://m.youtube.com/watch?sns=fb&v=JIpFkPHyLkE

Thank you for your interest in the work of God's hand through our otherwise incapable hands. 

Please feel free to share with a friend or your entire state!  

Big Hugs, 

   KatieAnn Ficker 

Stop, Drop.... and GO!

It is a hot, autumn day here in Canilla, and in less than a week, I will find myself basking in the cool crisp air of a Midwestern fall day. If everything goes as planned... and the weather cooperates.

We survived our first year back down in Canilla. We rolled through our one year anniversary of living without a paycheck, leaving US soil, and walking away from our friends and family that we left behind, with a little reflection.

Courtyard of the new facility

For over a year now, we have been plugging away on the construction of the new building, and the clinics will begin the transition into the new facility early next year.

We will take one step at a time in expanding into the rest of the building.

                We are looking forward to our time back in the states, but in preparation of our absence, I can’t help but feel a sense of abandonment for all we will leave behind. Don’t get me wrong, I am looking forward to many things...  Milk-shakes, Target,   falling Leaves, hugs from family and friends, and going to a live church service, among other things!  I roll through my mind what it will be like and the conversations I may have, the questions I may get asked, and of the possible scenarios, the one that haunts me the most is, “How is Guatemala?”

Sure, the short answer is easy. As ‘fine’  or even ‘good’ will suffice for most people, but my concern does not come from saying something good enough or pleasing enough, but rather from not speaking the truth.

How is Guatemala? Well it is good, it really is. The weather has been mostly predictable in the fact the rains only came for a fraction of the rainy season. The rain ravaged the roads for about a week, compared to months of rain in the past years. The lack of rain left many crops dry, short, or just plain dead.  We are still hopeful for a few more weeks of moisture, but we sense a change in the seasons, unfortunately. Despite the lack of precipitation, Guatemala is still plugging away with its usual fall activities.

The medical clinics continue to serve 500 pregnant women per month, and hundreds of general patients needing anything from antibiotics to insulin. While we are ecstatic to have the most skilled clinic staff in the history of the ministry, we continue to see patients with needs we cannot meet with the resources we have to work with.

Angelina

Last week, I was able to help with a young mother of two, who was going into early labor (Pictured Here). We did all we could to slow her contractions, ease her mind, and get her to the regions nearest medical facility. Upon finally making contact with a physician at the Government Hospital, we learned that despite our ability to fly her in, and get her to the hospital in less than 20 minutes, the answer was simply ‘no’. They were out of space. They had told us not to send her, as she would be turned away. We were faced with multiple options, but each on was worse than the last. If we send her to the hospital, and they deny her care, she will end up birthing a 29 week old baby in the middle of another town, on her own and away from all friends and family that could possibly help her.





It makes me want to scream!

How can I fix this?

How can we fix this?

Well, we just need to get the hospital up and running! 

But, will that solve all the problems this community, our local community, is facing?

Once again, I am glad you asked!  

NO.

We see need everywhere.

In every face of content, we can find need. In every home made of mud, we can find need.  In every life that grows inside a mothers womb, we see need in the future.

Yet the spirit of the people as a whole continues to baffle me. They continue to push forward, despite surmountable odds.

Yolanda

We are surrounded by such a culture of resilience. Yet, there are families ravaged by generational alcoholism. Children deserted by their fathers as they pursue possible work in the US.  Single mothers struggling to change the earthly fate of their daughters. Breaking the cycle seems impossible, and yet we press in, we all press in, in the hope that we can make a difference for this life, and for eternity with as many people as possible.

Little by little, we see hearts soften to the truths of a God who loves them. We see eyes, that were once blinded, opened to see the grace of His forgiveness. We watch a mother, whose hope rests in faith alone, continue to spend every waking moment to improve her children’s future. We see children, having walked for hours, alongside their mothers, come to the clinics to receive milk powder or food to supplement their meals, walking away with the joy of a child, even if only for a moment.

Installing windows in the prayer room of the new facility

I wonder if while I am ‘back home’ I will miss those little eyes that stare at me from the safety of their mothers legs, while I buy my tomatoes off the street? Will I miss the sound of the backhoe in my front yard?  Luckily it is only three weeks…. Right????    

I am so glad to be going back up to visit. I am also looking forward to coming home again. Back to where my kids can find their way through the house when it is dark. Where I have many different creatures (some human) running wild, tracking dirt and sand through the house constantly.  You know.... Home. Where you can put your feet up, sit back and stare at the wall over a hot cup of tea and just be… home.

I pray you are all enjoying your fall weather, and thank you for sharing a little time with me. We look forward to seeing everyone we can, and can’t wait to share with you the awesome things God is doing here in Guatemala!

If you feel connected to our ministry and want to share in this craziness, please consider supporting us on a monthly or completely random basis. 
You can Donate through PayPal, or the mailing address:

                                                                Ryan and KatieAnn Ficker
                                                                PO Box 263
                                                                Marine, IL 62061

Thank you for the love!

The Letter I Will Never Write:

Sorry for the delay, yikes, it has been 2+ months since I wrote last.
Here we are, nearing our 12 month mark in Guatemala. Has it really been that long? That's it? No longer?   Or: Has it really been that long? You mean I have survived a year of this?

Yup, that’s right! We have gone nearly 12 months without working out in a real gym, having a night out alone as parents, or getting the kids to their Pediatrician for a check-up. Your right, my track record was less than glorious for all of those before we moved here.

Looking to the south

It is August now, and we find ourselves nearing completion on the Hospital, no silly not all of it. We have almost all of the drain lines in the ground. One room left, and all the patient rooms will be completed. All except for beds, lights, a roof, bathrooms, and ceiling we are practically home free!!! Okay, okay, enough sarcasm! 

 
 
 

Looking to the North

The floors are all poured, except for two, in all the rooms. We have raised all the block walls but a few, and the roof is starting to take shape. The steel trusses are being placed, and welded, and welded, and welded, and (the lights dim) cut to size. The roofing is all on site, and once we find insulation to lay onto the roofing panels, we will be able to begin covering the portions that have the trusses in place.

Roof Trusses inside the Chapel

The well is at a depth of 600 feet. We are expecting the tubes to arrive, well last week, in order to case the well with perforated tubes. After this, we will be able to lower the pump, attached to the water line, and hook up the power. Oh, but then then fun begins... but in the end we will have clean, pressurized water.



My sunflower patch (Don't worry, not my house on the right)



We had about 50 people come through our little community, either visiting for a few days, or pitching in to help for a week. The dynamic is ever changing for us here, but to think that we have survived it, gives me hope that maybe, just maybe we will be able to manage all that is in store with the completion of the hospital/clinic.



My House (Go ahead and worry)



I find myself daydreaming more lately, thinking of strolling through Walmart, walking into my Grandma’s house, wondering what my garden looks like this year, without me? The places my mind will go untempered. I often think about writing home, like in the olden days, you know, in the 90’s, years ago! Writing a letter once a month, once a year to family or friends, just an update or a little sliver of love, wrapped in paper, penned with care. I don’t write letters often, practically never, at least ones that don’t come over the internet. .

What would I write if I did, who knows, but I can tell you what I will never write….

I will never write that I have it all completely figured out.

I will never write that I am thoroughly enjoying my international tour through Europe. I will never write that I am lounging on my yacht, drinking champagne. I will never write that I am a cat person. I will never write how thankful I am that Dr.Pepper is not distributed in Central American markets. I will never write that I am torn between spending the summer at my vacation home in The Hamptons or my cabana in Cancun. I will never write to my Mom, or tell her I don’t miss her. I will never write my family back home, and tell them I am glad I can’t see them and that I am relieved to be missing all our family gatherings. I will never write that I think my ‘teaching’ skills are heightened BECAUSE I AM THE MOM, and that I was born to homeschool. I will never write that I have never been burnt out as a missionary, as a mother, or as a spouse. I will never write a letter to God and tell him I completely understand what he has planned, for me, my family, the nation.

How could I? How could I describe the way He continually baffles me. The way that I can feel His encouragement in the breeze as it rolls through the window, stirring the curtains, and flaunting the mountains.

How could I deny the passion He has for His People here? Oh, the ends that He has gone too, to provide for and fund the construction thus far. To supply for me to feed my children and work for nothing! Only to receive everything I could never earn, in due time? A gentle strength that causes the Earth to quake, and can humble us all in the blink of an eye.

All this and more is at the Heart of questions I will never ask, only to be answered with a word that will never be written loud enough, or bold enough or big enough...

Love

Just four little letters that carry the hope of the world! If they are enough to cover me and my sins, than they are enough to cover yours, and anyone you know, will meet or overlook. 

Now, if we can just get ourselves out of the way, enough to make room for them…

that is the challenge we all face, together.

The Calm After the Storm

It never ceases to amaze me, the resilience that we have as humans against the most debilitating circumstances, only to be completely leveled by a few words carried on a harsh tone, or an un-ideal scenario in the midst of a bad day.

Yes, we are still manually loading the rock crusher.

In the days following my last post, which felt more like a one sided confession, I received an outpouring of responses. Some of them simple and sweet, other responses were encouraging from readers who interpreted my feelings as homesickness, and in them all, I felt an undeniable confirmation that I, as a missionary-blogging-momma, am responsible for sharing the honest truth, deep and real, of our lives here. So, Thank You, to every one who is out there reading faithfully, and a great big hug to those of you who took the time to respond or share our blog with someone.

We are continuing to forge ahead on all fronts. The chaos surrounding our home has been steady, and often it seems as though it is invading our living room.




Working into the dark to get the cement pad just right!

I know it can be challenging to comprehend the way in which we live here and the vastness of the project we have taken on. There are days I would like to understand less or just forget about the work that needs to be done or the supplies that we don't have, much less cant find. Those are not the days I appreciate the weight of what is continuing in my yard. Fortunately, those are also the days that growth as a Christian painfully pushes its way to the surface.

There are so many differences from the culture we knew back home, to the culture we try to adapt into here in Guatemala. The sub-culture of we have created seems normal to us now, and I am sure most of what makes traveling back to American soil so challenging, and sometime traumatic. The amount of time and energy to we see being poured into temporary happiness is usually the most drastic change we see.

I wonder if I am happy here, or should I say happier here in Canilla, El Quiche, Guatemala? (google it)  I think back to the times in my life where I was 'happy', to the point of feeling almost ecstatic constantly. I can't say there were times that I never felt sadness or disappointment, but I can remember eras of joy. Like high school marching band during senior year, I remember feeling like I was on top of the world. Then when I was dating then engaged and married to Ryan. Those first few years were irreplaceable, and yet I can still recall some very hard days, and hefty disappointments.

And then fast forward to now.... Are there days when I would rather just keep the curtains pulled, and doors closed, and pretend to have a normal life. Sure. Do I have times of homesickness? You bet! Does that change the gravity of the situation here in Canilla?  Certainly not.

I am afraid that if after the move to Guatemala I did not experience any sense of loss or longing for the people or things we miss, than what quality of life did we live before? I am reminded by the widow in the Bible who gave all she could. (Mark 12:41-44, Luke 21:1-4)  The power of her two coins was in the weight of her sacrifice. Had she given less, a more 'comfortable' donation, would she have received the same blessing? Would Jesus have taken note of her generosity had she been wealthy or middle-class? Did those two mites cost her something more than two mites? I know typically, in our American culture, giving of what we have, when we don't have 'enough' or extra is not considered logical. It seems a little crazy to give past comfortable. I wonder if He would want us live within our comfort zone, not only with our finances, but all elements of our lives. I guess you could say that this is where I feel we moved to. There should be a sign somewhere at our gate, "Welcome to Beautiful Canilla! 1,656 miles past comfortable!!!" 



Ryan enjoying his 32nd birthday gift from his family!

Those days I want to lock ourselves away, drown out all the noises, and dust and mud, and bugs! Those are the days of stretching and growth. Like I shared last time, those are usually the times when our natural, logical thinking of 'pain is bad and happiness is good', end up pushing to the surface and make it more challenging than normal to hear that still, small voice that can only come when we are listening and willing.



Meet, Fudge!!!!

Oh, I pray I am able to life my eyes beyond the dust, (and beyond the rock, the rock crusher, the skid loader, the block and cement)  and all the challenges that come from the continual cycle of progress and preparation. And when I finally am able to pry my focus off of myself, if only I can see the beauty in the storm, and the power of the sacrifice that we all make here, as missionaries, to the great commission, and to this great cause that we are so fortunate to be a part of.

My prayer is that you will find the strength to do the same in your life, whether on a small scale or a large one, and never  look back on your decision with regrets, but feel encouraged by the prospect of the future and the opportunities it may hold.

Thank you for reading, sharing in this journey with us, and your unrelenting support of the work we share here in Guatemala.

When is it OK to fail?

Shew,
I am glad that is over....

I waited and waited for an instant yesterday,when my life, as I know it, would change. I am now 29. I am glad to have survived yet another year, and hope that I have leaned something in the process.


The container I mentioned has been emptied, and sits at rest in Quiche, the last town with paved roads on the way to Canilla (where we live/work).  The day the guys shuffled all the contents into smaller trucks and trailers was sprinkled with blocked roads, directing traffic and lots of driving.

We have not unloaded any of the supplies yet, but I think we will begin the tedious process of unpacking and organizing all the contents so we can find it when we need it tomorrow... oh you know what? I think I am 'busy'. Bummer!!!!



L to R: Duane*,Dave, Leland, Joe, Brian, Aaron*, Ryan*
*Not from Iowa

The group from Iowa was a good change of pace, and a reminder of the wealth of knowledge that comes from experience. After they left us here in Canilla, our family took the opportunity to return to Guatemala city for a few days. We were able to take the kids bowling one night near the hotel. The swimming was the highlight, and we have had our fill of fast food and French fries for al least a months. It is always funny to me that we never ate at McDonalds or Burgerking back home, but as soon as we can, we end up at one of these 'fine' establishments during any trip to the city.
For the children, of course!

 In the days after we got home last week, I was kind of mopey. We had once again, been left behind. The McQuillen family had left us, the group from Iowa had left us.   I wanted to run away, run back home to what I know as familiar. I wanted to be able to go to church again, I wanted to be able to drive to a store, or drive to a restaurant, and just work for a living, work for ourselves like everyone else.  I kept reminding myself, and God, that this, here in Canilla, is not where I 'belong'. This is not my 'home'. I deserve to be 'home'. I belong around old barns, and John Deere tractors, and BBQ restaurants. I wondered if He was understanding, did He get it? Why couldn't He have compassion on me and let me be 'home'? Where I was comfortable, where I had all the access to things I wanted and the resources to get them, sometimes.

I went on like this for a few days. You can imagine that I really just made it worse with all my self pity. You may be thinking "How could she want to be anywhere but in the midst of what God is doing in Canilla?" Well, that is one of the things about honesty, it is not usually very flattering. I am sory if this is too honest, but I guess most people know that I have a hard time keeping anything to myself. Someone told me last week, "We don't ever have to wonder what you are thinking".... Oh well...... after a period of self loathing, my middle son was asking me a series of questions about God, and Jesus. He wanted to know what God looked like, when He was born and other typical questions you would expect from a 5 year old.  I was thinking of Jesus, and His life here, on earth, and it occurred to me, that not only did Jesus 'get it' but he lived it. He was away from home, he was about as far away from where he felt he belonged as one can get. Not only did he experience what I had been feeling, but he was not only unappreciated by the people around Him that He worked for, but was persecuted and killed by them.  

 Ouch.

So have I learned anything in the last year? Have I gotten any smarter? I hope so, at least I can now openly acknowledge that I am stubborn, hard-headed, and sometimes very self centered. I guess we know that honesty comes with age, or for me it just comes. 

We have a lot of work to do here, and as determined as I am to see the task completed, I am not so sure I am capable of all the skills one would need to do all that is required. I am not a plumber, I am not a Doctor, I am not a writer, I am not a.... well, I am actually not an anything. I never graduated college, I never had a career outside other than, actually I never held a job for more than 6 months.  I don't think anyone could be less qualified for this project than I.

I don't know who God had in mind for this task, but he got me.


       ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.   - 2 Corinthians 12:9-10



And all the more proof that He is at the helm, and I am simply along for the ride.
I only hope I can hold on.
You know what, I think he is probably holding onto me.



Inside Chapel/Prayer Room

The Chapel/Prayer Room



The ER



The ER