Costs

She's wondering how friend-love can stretch across distance, how long she can go without connecting. Her tears are real. So is her pain.


What can I do?


We're here because of a calling, a calling we believe is her calling, too. But there are costs involved in answering a calling. When those costs are mine, it's one thing. When the costs are borne by My Girl, it's another.


I turn her to the only true and lasting Comfort that she has. And I leave her with a Book and a pen. And I pray.

Preparing for Christmas without Sensory Cues

Christmas comes where there is no snow. Truly. 


I have to wrap my mind around that and work to begin preparing for Christ's arrival. 


That's what Advent is for, and here I'm finding that observing Advent is ever so much more personally necessary than it was in North America. Somehow the snow, dark evenings, cozy indoor times wearing sweaters, and snow gear all through the front hall became huge cues for me that Christmas was on its way. 


Not so here. There is no snow. The sun is still up at 9pm. Shorts and t-shirts are what we're wearing. And all the windows get opened once the air cools off in the evening (at least the ones with screens). None of those sensory cues are here for me to prepare my heart for Christmas. 


So we've started our annual Advent readings a couple of days late, but with much more longing than usual. Something has to remind us that we're about to celebrate the greatest gift of love!

What's in a Name?

For years I've wanted to be able to name our home. But it just isn't something that's commonly done in Canada. So, even if I did name it, the likelihood of the name ever coming into common use was pretty slim.

Then I moved to Uruguay.

People in Uruguay name their houses! Practically every home you see has the house name posted on the gate or on the lawn. In fact, the houses don't have numbers in most neighbourhoods of our city, just names. So when you get an address it sounds something like:

     Bay Street

     between Brunswick and Douro

     House: Talsma

     City

     Postal Code

(makes me a bit curious about mail delivery, but it seems to work)

The home we have rented already had a name: Yuchan. Yuchan is a variety of tree here that is growing in the front yard. But there was no sign, and we thought this might be my chance to name a house. 

Before long we had chosen a name.

When my Dear Man and our colleague went to work out the final rental agreement with the owner and the lawyer, they asked if we could choose our own name. The owner balked.

"You can't change a house's name! It's bad luck! It would be like changing the name of a ship or boat; it just isn't done!"

We thought that was the end of it, and I resigned myself to living in a place called "Yuchan".

And I tried not to be too disappointed.

Later that same day the two men met again with the owner about something else, and he brought up the naming question. "You go ahead and give it a name if you'd like," he said. "In all the years we've lived there we never even made a sign for it. It will be fine."

So, here we are, in a home we love, quirks and all, AND I was allowed to give it a name!

A couple of days later we realized that we needed to work fast: the telephone company was sending their workers to install our phone line and the address we'd given included the new name.

One of the teen-aged boys on our team got out his sautering iron and burned the name into a leftover piece of lumber that was in their yard. On our next trip to our house we set up the new house sign.

It is my prayer that everyone who enters our door will find refuge: a place of sanctuary and peace, welcome and safety:

Bienvenido a El Refugio

Welcome to The Refuge

50(5x2 + 6) + 5x17 + 5x5 = stress

The morning began the night before.


I stood in the living room, tears in my eyes, and sobbed to my Dear Man "It's not going to work!"


The reply came with a gentle hug. "You go to sleep. And imagine that while you're sleeping the packing elves will be hard at work."


So I did go to sleep, lying beside a tearful daughter, praying silent prayers of peace and comfort for a girl who is aching.


Wakefulness came early, just as sleep came late. The autumn sun wasn't yet risen when I returned to the living room.


Sure enough, the packing elves had been busy through the night. There were more bins sitting ready to go on the airplane with us. Unfortunately, the little piles of personal belongings seemed to be just as plentiful as they were the night before. And so the tears returned.


Another trip to the hardware store to purchase two more bins.


Another period of rearranging the binned items to keep the weights below the magical 50 pounds.


Loved Ones came to give last minute assistance and to give good-bye hugs; their help was like gold.


And by the time our scheduled departure came we were ready with our 10 allotted bags (2 each at 50 pounds) plus 6 extras (50 pounds each) and carry-ons (one carry-on of 17 pounds plus one personal item each - we quickly learned not to call those 'purses' for the sakes of our little boys!).


Let the travelling begin!

Temporary Lodgings

It was late August and we had nowhere to go. All we knew was that we had to be out of our home on the 15th of September and that there was no way we'd actually be leaving Canada until at least the end of that month. We had no place to live once we left Bay Street, and our home in Maldonado wasn't going to be ours until our support was at 100%. 

And it wasn't.

In the last week of August we put a note in our church's bulletin making people aware that we needed a temporary home for our family, that it would be at least for two weeks (probably more, but indefinite), and that we were willing to consider anything from a camper parked in someone's driveway to house-sitting for someone.

By the end of the afternoon we had received three offers of places to live, and a week later we knew where we would be.

Our temporary home has been provided by families from our church who have a large home with 3 apartments. Each apartment is fully equipped for a family, but the three units are joined by an additional kitchen: the Big Kitchen. Our apartment is the upper level of the original farmhouse on this 60 acre property, and, we are overwhelmed with the way God provided for us in this time of transition.

Our front door

We were originally told that our apartment wouldn't have appliances in the kitchen, and we were prepared to go downstairs and do our cooking in the Big Kitchen. But on the day my Dear Man began to move our belongings into the apartment, the owners told him that they had just arranged for a fridge, stove, and dishwasher to be installed before we moved in! 

Once again we were flooded with thankfulness. We had been ready to 'make do' camping in a driveway, and here we were going to be living in an apartment larger than the home we'd moved out of, with space for the kids to play, and fully equipped with all we could want - including living-room furniture brought in from the family room of one of the other homes.  

(And again we cry out a mighty thank you to the fellows who brought all those items up: the furniture from two floors below, and the appliances, including two trips for the fridge!)

The upper floor is ours - the first three windows on the left are the living room,  the next two are from our bedroom, and the last two are My Girl's room. The kitchen, bathrooms, sun room, and two more bedrooms are at the back of the house.

For five weeks now we have lived in this gift of a home. Little Man and Brown Eyed Boy have revelled in the spacious property: woods with a tree-fort, fields to play baseball in, and a ditch explore! 

A glimpse into the forest from the 'baseball field' that's next to the barn where The Ones I Love keep their bikes.

My Girl has also enjoyed the outdoors: soaring in the tire-swing that hangs from a large tree just across the driveway from out door, space in her bedroom (the room she chose because the colours were exactly the same as those in her old room and matched her hand-made quilt) to do her school work in peace, and a place to entertain friends.

It has truly been home, which is so much more than 'temporary lodgings' could ever be.

Last looks over our shoulders at a home that echoes with empty silence:

50 Bay St.

Home for nine years.

The home where we went from being a family of three to a family of five.

The home which saw hours of effort to make it all we wanted it to be.

The home whose colours were chosen with care.

The home that shows the mark of each occupant.

The home that saw love and laughter, tears and pain, joy and sorrow, prayer and rejoicing.

One chapter closes.

Another begins.

Listen Earlier

I ask a question of my Lord and wait for His answer.  

Nothing.  Silence.

But I continue, pressing on with the guidance of others who are more experienced listeners. 

And then the sky opens over me as I realize that while the question is still in my mind and the words are still on my tongue, the answer is being given!

The blessing of His answer is ready for me even before I speak the question!  I don't need to listen more closely.  I don't need to listen longer.

I need to listen earlier.

I have a God who wants to speak to me, is longing to hear my heart, and to pour His words into my heart!

He waits for me to be ready to listen, but He knows the question before it is formed and His answer comes.  His answer comes.

"Before they call I will answer, while they are yet speaking I will hear."  Isaiah 65:24