From the cul-de-sac...

We have been home from the hospital a week and a day. I have had so much I wanted to say here...but my sleep-deprived state of mind did not allow for putting words together in a complete sentence. Or even to spell words correctly. Or even think through how to log on to the blog-site. It was bad. I mean really really bad.

But we seem to have turned a corner today -- last night as a matter of fact. Benjamin is on a much lower dose of needed medications and he slept through the night for the first time since surgery. Do you know how huge that is?? He feels so much better rested today. And so does his mom!! So. much. better.

We know we are still in the middle of a long recovery. But I can not tell you how amazed I am at this boy and the way he is rocking this recovery!!

The incision.

But just as we turned the corner....just as I slept enough to not be weepy all day and overly-critical of all around me, and overly hurt by every imagined infraction known to man (For example, WHY did the pool guy put chemicals in the pool yesterday when I wanted to swim with my girls and enjoy a lovely day?)....oh boy. Just as I felt a tad bit more normal....

I had to shoot one of my arrows this morning. I pulled back and released and sent her soaring....

To Argentina.

Can you follow that mental picture? This year, I have a picture in our "school room" of Mason practicing archery. The picture served as a visual reminder that in order for an arrow to soar, Mason must pull it back, forcing tension in the limbs as he draws the bow near to his heart. The tension is necessary if the arrow is to soar to its intended destination. Tension is necessary.

My quiver is full of the most beautiful arrows. God was so gracious when He gave me two amazing boys and two amazing girls and called me their mom. Such gifts.

But there can be tension. The push and pull of growing into men and women is not for the faint of heart. Teenagers must battle between wanting independence and wanting protection. They must fight the battle between depending on Mom and Dad and standing on their own two feet. They must pull away when some days all they want is to cuddle up in the chair with me or Dad and be little again. Oh, there are serious growing pains in the teen years and my little family is no exception.

And because I am always honest here...sometimes the tension is created by a Mom who desperately wants to keep her littles little. Sigh.

When the applications for summer missions became available this year, I was not interested. Really. We had been to Argentina last year and knew that it was not possible for Benjamin to go this year, so I assumed we would all stay home this summer. But my Claire, my precious Claire, left part of her heart in Argentina (as we all did) and she was hopeful she could return.

Oh no. I could not leave one child in the operating room one day and then two weeks and very little sleep later, leave another at the airport. Absolutely not. No way. No how. Don't even ask.

Dear Dad had other thoughts: What if God was calling her back? Would I stand in the way?

Ugh. No. Of course not. But He wouldn't do that. I needed her here. I wanted her here. She is my right hand. She gets my craziness when I am confined to the house with a healing boy and begin to doubt I have a friend in the world. She encourages. She props me up. She sews pillows with me and never questions why I feel the need to sew pillows on two hours of sleep.

She is my girl.

But, her Dad gently reminded me that I taught her to love missions. I taught her to fall in love with the people she serves. With a smile, her Dad said, "She is just being exactly like you. Will you stand in her way?"

Deep deep sigh.

Of course I will not.

So today, I took this beautiful girl of mine to the airport. I watched her check-in and proceed up the escalator. I watched her disappear from my sight knowing that I am sending her into the arms of some of the dearest friends imaginable....in Argentina. And when she was out of my sight and the tears began to flow (I didn't dare cry in front of her...she had to see how strong I am.), my other beautiful girl, looked up at me and said, "Seriously, Mom? You are crying? She'll be back in like, two weeks or something!!" And I began to laugh. Because Little Red is exactly the medicine I needed.

I sent part of my heart on that plane this morning. I know God wants her there. I know that He has a plan for her. I am eager to hear all about it. To see her photos. To hear the stories of hugs given and received and of lives transformed (her's and other's) because she was obedient to the call.

She gave me a gift this morning. My precious girl bought me a necklace with Argentina on it. She asked me to wear it while she is gone to keep her and that beloved country close to my heart. My Claire is a gift.

And when she is back home, and my quiver is again full to overflowing, I will thank God for the blessing of raising mission-minded children; for the blessing of tension that means we are all growing and learning and becoming the adults God wants us to be. And I will thank him that though I will one day watch them soar for longer than a two week period, THIS season, they are still in my quiver, close to me. Blessing my socks off.

Giving.

We had only been in Argentina for a full day when the bus dropped us off at a prison for women. The whole experience still seemed a bit surreal to me and maybe that was just jet-lag, but I really had not wrapped my mind around the fact that we were really in South America. A long long way from anything I knew. And being there with my three teenagers but without my husband and six year old was as far out of my comfort zone as I had ever been. (You probably heard me say that a few times here or maybe over here.)

So when the bus rolled through the series of gates, fences and security devices, I jolted awake. Oh. And by the time the guards, bearing arms, escorted us into the building, I was hyper-alert.

I shot some arrow prayers -- do you ever need those? "Ok, Lord, we are here to serve you. Work through this group and please, God, keep all these young people safe."

The prisoners began to file into the assembly hall. I saw faces and with that first visual, God did a wonderful thing for me -- He transformed these prisoners into women. Women who were scared, alone and in need of the Savior.

Within a few minutes, my new friend and co-director of the ministry came to me and in her limited English asked if I could minister to a woman who was battling depression on this day. I stood and spoke with "Wanda" for a long time. She was older, her children grown with their own homes and children to care for. Desperate for money she made a bad decision and landed in this Argentine prison a long way from her home in North America. She missed her children. She missed her grandchildren. She was lonely to hear her own language. She needed a friend that day. I was honored to hug her, pray for her and hold her hand as tears streamed down her face.

As I looked around the hall, I marveled at the young people giving of themselves to comfort, encourage and minister to these women. As I sat with my new friend during the worship time, I was eager for them to hear the message of the day -- oh, I was eager for them to hear MY Mason speak, share from his heart and encourage them that all the "giants" in their lives could be defeated by God!

My heart puffed up a bit with pride. I was super proud of the entire team -- look how they were giving!! When the guards -- yes, still with big guns -- motioned that our time together was over, another dear lady -- a woman serving time -- came to me with tears in her eyes. She hugged me, told me what a gift the group had been (Did you see my chest puff up with even more pride?) and then you know what she did. She took a bracelet from her arm and put it on mine. This woman who had so very little took a bracelet from her arm and placed it on mine.

"I want you to have this," she said. "I want you to have this and look at it and know God loves you and your family."

She wanted to minister to me.

She did minister to me. And I was humbled. Completely.

We were not the only ones giving. As a matter of fact, we found ourselves on the receiving end during our time in Argentina much more than we were on the giving end! When complete strangers walked up to help lift Benjamin in and out of the car each day -- we were given a huge gift! When the ladies in the rural church in Colon took the time to cook for us and then serve us all our meals during our time of service there, we were given a huge gift. When these same ladies took time from cooking and serving us to help Benjamin eat during every single meal, we received a huge gift. And on and on.....

Do you know what happens when giving is so unfettered by expectations and demands? We want to give more. We want to give so much more -- from the grateful overflow of our hearts, we just want to keep giving!

And so when Claire came in with her little host sister wearing Claire's favorite headband, I had to smile.

"I had to give it to her, Mom, she loves it."

And why we left Colon, Argentina with one less Mississippi State sweatshirt wishing we had 20 more to give!

And why we can not go shopping without seeing things we want to send south of the equator!

But most importantly, it is why we continue to pray for the friends we made, for the lives that touched us so, for God to hold them safe, help them to grow and reunite us all one day!

Giving. Deep sigh. What a blessing!

Re-locating patriotism while wanting to re-locate...

So this year, the 4th of July was different at our house. Oh, it arrived right at the beginning of July - like it always does (hence, the name, right?). And it arrived with all the pomp and circumstance -- grill lit, beef stock-piled, we even saw fireworks from our backyard. But this year, well, this year was different because the three teenagers in our home had just returned from their first time abroad.

If you want the Mason Jar filled with only red and blue M&Ms....well, you'll have to pull them out yourself! Thanks, Cate!!

Traveling to Argentina and serving alongside the people changed my kids. Traveling is fun -- but the serving, well, the serving means they gave of their hearts, they grew, they changed and they fell in love with the country and everyone they met.

So when I began decorating in red, white and blue, they were torn. The struggle of loving another place and still feeling that love for home was evident. We had a long conversation about how loving the people of Argentina while still loving America is possible.

We then dissected the American history lessons of the school year that was affecting them. And then moved on to the controversy of the current presidential election which has them disheartened (I am with them on this one, by the way.). And then we made a decision to celebrate our freedoms and the people who fought and died for those freedoms, anyway.

Cate's beautiful flag to adorn our front door.

I was proud of them for working through their feelings and then embracing their red, white, and blue. We had a wonderful 4th of July!

But man, if something didn't happen this week that undid so much that we discussed and has sent us all wanting to flee south of the equator: My girls made cookies for the new neighbors. That simple. They made cookies.

They always do. We live in a new neighborhood and so as homes get built, new people move in and my girls consider it a privilege to welcome them with cookies.

This week they made cookies for three families -- one new, and two they had visited before but felt led to give them a treat.

The first stop was to the brand new neighbor. Bless her heart, she obviously did not expect such a welcome because she barely cracked the door open wide enough to pull the cookies in. Ok. Well, she'll get to know us soon enough and perhaps be more welcoming then?? The girls were undeterred and proceeded to the home of a neighbor they had received gratitude from with their first delivery months ago and wanted to treat them again. This time a new baby had arrived and the girls were invited in. (I should interject that I have told them NOT to go into homes....but the lure of seeing the new baby over-rode their ability to obey....)

Now, you should know, Cate and I have had a little cough after changing climates between stormy rainy Florida and dry sunny Arizona. Apparently, my little Red coughed a couple of times while they were visiting the baby. So....grandma of the baby shows up at our home the next morning concerned that Cate has infected the baby with....wait for it....whooping cough. Whooping cough.

Now, please know I was very sympathetic as I assured her Cate does not have whooping cough or anything else contagious. I was sympathetic as I also assured her the excessive worry stemmed from the exhaustion a new baby brings. I didn't flinch when she told me they had washed the baby as soon as the girls left to remove all the germs. I was calm, assuring and kind.

But when she left, my heart hurt. I at once wanted to scream, cry and flee. We unwrapped the last batch of cookies -- the neighbors had not been home and we were saving them to deliver the next day -- and ate them!  And this image kept popping into my head:

These are Mate cups. I never saw more than one in the same place at a time because Mate is a drink of friendship -- a hot tea that requires the giver to carry around a thermos of hot water to refill the cup as he passes it around amongst friends. We were offered Mate repeatedly from the moment we arrived in Argentina. No one asked if we had a cough before offering from their cup. No one asked about our germs, current immunizations or anything else before reaching out, hugging us, kissing our cheek and then offering this drink from their own cup, their one straw. A drink of welcome, friendship and affection.

Goodness, I must say that I miss that. But rather than whine and moan about it -- perhaps the real lesson would be to keep baking cookies. After all, we were not sure about Mate at first. We didn't know what the cup contained or who was passing it to us. We declined the offer more than once before we finally said yes and took a sip.

So, while we will continue to love the warmth and kindness of our new friends in Argentina, perhaps living the warmth is the lesson we need to have here, at home.

And so we will keep baking cookies. We will keep welcoming our neighbors. And we'll pray that as a result, we'll make new friends who are as blessed by our welcome as we were blessed by the love found in Argentina!

At a loss.

We are home. And I desperately want to tell you about our trip. There were so many highs. A few lows. Some challenges and some amazing victories.

Claire getting kisses from her host brother, Renzo.

But words escape me. I think sometimes, we can be paralyzed by an inability to share the depths of an experience. And our time in Argentina was deep, moving, life-changing. And yes, sometimes, hard.

Sweet NEW sisters!

The people we had a privilege to encounter in Argentina were simply amazing. They were warm, loving, welcoming and have impacted our hearts forever. Honestly, my heart aches with the loss of their daily presence (and I know my kids feel the same way.).

Our family!

And because our family is crazy...we had to have a crazy picture! :)

Benjamin stepped out on faith, leaving his power wheelchair behind in the States because we feared a lack of accessibility. We were right. Buenos Aires has narrow doorways, old sidewalks, and small cars. We would not have been able to transport the chair. As it was, we had a daily challenge of fitting his manual chair in and out of cars to get back and forth to the church where we met our team. One day, the driver used a bungee cord to keep it in the trunk. I didn't take a deep breath until we unloaded it!

With our two host families...oh, how we love this crowd!

One day, we took every single piece that could be removed off and then had to re-assembly the myriad of pieces before we could unload him.

New brothers -- Jairo and Benjamin.

One day, the driver, turned the chair around and around, and finally placed it upside down in the passenger seat while the three of us (Benjamin, Mason and I) squeezed into the back.

Our host home -- sigh. Family.

It was always an adventure. And as I felt the stress during our first taxi ride, Mason looked at me and said, "Mom, God's got this." I tried to rest in the faith of my boy for the duration!

The language barrier was a hurdle we worked to overcome. We did our Spanish lessons all year. We had our handy-dandy Spanish-English dictionary and goodness, we relied on Google Translate and amazing new friends who could interpret. But man, when you want to have an in-depth conversation with someone you have grown to love, it can be so frustrating to not speak the same language.

Claire's dear host family were placed in our lives for some very specific reasons -- that only God was aware of at the time of placement. Because Claire stepped out on faith, and stayed in a home away from me and the boys, she had the opportunity to encourage and inspire this dear family in ways that would not have been possible had she been with us. I am so proud of her -- so excited to have been on the front row of watching God visibly grow her through our two weeks. And so delighted to have new life-friends in Vivi and Renaldo, her host parents.

For sure, the most stress-free part of the trip was being with our host family. They were so warm, so welcoming and took such amazing care of us. I am ever-thankful.

Mate -- the drink of friendship, exudes warmth, love and generosity!

Our times of service were exciting. Mason shared in a women's prison and the beauty of his words made an impact on the women listening. We were able to fellowship afterwards and encourage these women to seek the hope of our Savior. It was a spirit-filled day that had tremendous impact on us all.

Benjamin shared at a high school -- two young girls with Cerebral Palsy were in his audience. Again, we were struck by the sovereignty of a God who had this trip ordained for us long before we thought about it!

Work days -- construction, painting, etc -- were more of a challenge for my boys. Mason jumped in where he could but Benjamin could only watch. I want to be honest here and say that watching is hard for 15-year-old boys. I want to be honest here and say that watching your boys hurt is hard for 40-something-year-old moms. 

And while I am being honest -- sometimes I forget. I forget that we aren't what the world calls "normal." That every family doesn't have crutches and a wheelchair. That all teenage boys aren't well...like mine. And while I must say that the young men on this mission team were amazing -- simply amazing in their lifting Benjamin, carrying wheelchair parts, assembling wheelchair parts, etc -- they were teenage boys without the need of crutches and wheelchairs. And well, that was hard.

So, oh and I am loathe to say this, I am admitting here that I went to another continent, and perhaps the hardest part of that was being face-to-face with the fact that uh, we are different. There. I said it.

And yet, the best part of the trip was that we went to another continent and realized that even on the other side of the world, a hug translates as a hug. A kiss as a kiss. And really, we are all the same.

So while my words don't do it justice. And I can not possibly post the 1000 plus photos I took -- I hope you have a glimpse into the amazing journey God took us on. A glimpse into a ministry that so many of you were partners in -- and a glimpse into the blessing that was our trip to Buenos Aires, Argentina.

We will be back.

My favorite thing....

The sights are beautiful.

The food has been amazing. (Too amazing....)

And the work has been rewarding.

But I have learned an important lesson about myself:

It does not matter if I am in North America or South America....my favorite thing is the people.

In a barrio outside Colon, Argentina with my new friends, Ariel and Lorenzo.

The precious ladies who prepared all our meals in Colon -- they gave so much of themselves!

More little friends in Colon.

I made some sweet friends at our sister church in Buenos Aires -- as I served away from the rest of the Phoenix team I was the only English-speaker. This dear lady stuck to my side, translating for me when I didn't understand and loving me through it all! Thank you, Sol.

One of the young men who served with me as well -- Christian. We had a language barrier but I still understood his dear dear heart!

With Ana Clara and Sol -- Ana Clara runs the ministry to the homeless that we worked with. She came to me early in the trip dragging Sol with her to translate -- "I have fallen in love with Benjamin!" she said. And I smiled, because my boy loves people, too!

We will say many good-byes today at church and then tomorrow will have a team day to de-brief, buy some souvenirs and then board the plane to return home. (We won't arrive until Tuesday, though.)

There is much much more to tell you -- I am sorting it out in my head. We have had a wonderful time. We have had a hard, challenging time. But mainly, we have loved and been loved. And honestly, there is nothing that blesses me more.

Quick update

I have so much to type....but we are just home from high school worship and my eyes are too heavy to form the words. If you would like, you can check out my quick picture post here and trust me, I will be back with so much to say....as soon as I catch some zzzzzs.

In the meantime, we are at the point in our trip where good-byes are so hard and yet, we are also missing our loved ones at home so badly that it hurts....would you cover us in your prayers that we will finish strong? I appreciate you more than I can say!

Blessings, mi amigos.

Leaving our comfort zone.

We knew that leaving home and flying to South America was going way (way way) out of our comfort zone.

We knew that we could not even formulate expectations because life in Argentina was a complete unknown to us.

We knew that leaving Benjamin's power wheels behind was a faith step far outside what he was comfortable with.

We knew our only expectation was that we could not formulate expectations.

Ah.

But we serve an awesome God. He has not been surprised by one minute of this trip. Not only that, but He paved the way and wrote these days in our life before He even spoke us into being.

The fact that we met two girls -- from a set of triplets -- that we have been able to interact with who have Cerebral Palsy was not a coincidence. It was God-ordained. Benjamin shared his testimony to their class. Please pray it spoke truth about their worth in God's eyes to their hearts!

Benjamin playing with our new friends.

 The young Godly men from our team -- and that we have encountered all over Argentina, eager to push Benjamin's chair, load Benjamin on and off the bus, assemble his chair and do it all again multiple times a day -- NOT a happenstance. Again, God-ordained.

Making new friends. Growing in God. Having fun. All because He ordained it.

Claire staying with a family that needs her encouragement as they face possible special needs of their own -- NOT a coincidence.

Claire and her new "sisters" from her host family.

Me and my table of primary students -- they practiced their English over lunch and laughed mightily at my spoken-with-a-southern-drawl-Spanish!

Serving God in a rural barrio four hours north of Buenos Aires without modern conveniences -- oh, such a God-ordained chance for us ALL to experience life far outside our comfort zone.

Just outside Colon, Argentina.

I looked up to see my girl on the back of this moped, grinning from ear to ear!

Mason hard at work.

Sigh. I see Jesus in this open window with "rays" bursting forth...

Holding a turtle...not something this boy would normally do.

With the finished sidewalk and wall to the new clinic in Colon!

No matter how far outside our comfort zone...you can count on us to wear our maroon!

We are being stretched -- sometimes uncomfortably. We are growing -- in beautiful ways. And we are serving -- and being served.

The temperatures have dropped and I am desperately trying to keep everyone warm and free of sickness. Benjamin has reached a level of exhaustion that is hard to battle and though we are loving our new friends here, we desperately miss our family at home. Would you please cover us tonight with prayers?

No doubt God has more growth ahead for us. Your prayers surely (surely surely) are a blessing!

Chau, mi amigos!