Passion for Paraguay

Today was hard. I was invited to share at a funeral in town. I was not sure if I could even be there, or even say something without loosing my voice.  People of all ages were crying, struggling, quiet and starring in the distance. Esmelda, a 64 year old mother had a stroke yesterday and went to be with the Lord within a few hours. As I finished sharing by the grave side of Esmelda, and they had lowered the body, a man came up to me and suggested we clap for her and say goodbye this way. I had never even thought about clapping at a funeral. I asked my friend Hugo if he thought this to be OK. He said, sure, why not. People clapped for a long time. As they were clapping I thought of Esmeldas arrival and the angels welcoming her with beautiful music saying you have made, you are home. Another image that came to me was from the foot races I have been on. There is nothing like having family waiting for you a the end of your race and people cheering for you. I also thought of Timothy an

Hi Julie Today  we would party because its your birthday. You always made sure we had fun on family birthdays. You started the tradition of making breakfast in bed for the birthday person in our family. You made sure there was a present and a moment to celebrate. Today was quiet. I was on the road traveling. Life has changed dramatically since you went to be with Jesus last year in April. Its been actually hard to celebrate. I have been looking at pictures this evening, hoping to savior some of those birthday occasions. I treasure the wonderful moments I had with you. There were so many. You had party written all over you. You are turning 37 in heaven. You actually have stepped into timelessness. You are no longer aging. I know deep inside my heart that you are more alive now than ever. I am a little jealous. I send you my love and hugs. My prayer is that today you and Timothy had a moment together with probably angels and a great choir. Your legacy on this earth continues to

Thomas the Train Opening the Chama Valley Times, a paper from a small town in the mountains of New Mexico, I saw on the first page a picture of Thomas the train. The caption read: “ The little blue engine so beloved by children everywhere, once again made a stop in Chama for two weekends. ” Immediately my thoughts went to my son Timothy. One of Timothy’s favorite toys was Thomas the train. He had Thomas trains in all sizes, as well as a series of Thomas videos.  For about a year, Thomas the train was the focus of his playing attention. The pinnacle experience with Thomas the train took place in July 2009 when, during our furlough, we spent a full day with Thomas the train in southern Indiana. Timothy was four years old at the time. He had been looking forward to this experience. I remember distinctly how Timothy was afraid when he finally met Sir Toppam Hatt in person. We ate, got on Thomas the train, and rode the train as a family, shouting, talking, and making Timothy&

Family Portraits Over the last months I have been enjoying looking at my family pictures. Each has a story and is connected to emotions we experienced as a family. I especially love looking at the last pictures we took as a family between January and April of 2012. Julie and I had been married for almost 12 years, and we were enjoying life as a family of four. Both of our children, Timothy and Anahi, had come as a result of much prayer and years of waiting. Each of them, before even arriving into our home, had a powerful story. At the time of the accident, Julie was pregnant again. I remember during one of our breakfast conversations not long before the accident, Julie said, "If it’s a girl, let's name her Lilian, and if it’s a boy, let’s call him Caleb." She was due in December 2012. If the pregnancy would have come to a full term, today I would be the proud father of three children and the husband of an incredible woman. I consider myself a famil