Passion for Paraguay

I began to occasionally journal in my last year in high school. One of my professors challenged us to keep a log of lessons we learned as we took his, bible and ethics class. Although not very regularly, I kept a journal to this day. Here is an entry from last week: It's 9:45 p.m. We are moving into spring in only one week. Today temperatures reached 95 degrees. Forecast tells us it will be a hot summer. Farmers are worried; prices are at a two-year low. “I finish my day tired. I was very busy today. I just helped Nancy put Anahi and Nicole down to bed. We packed Mark's bag for a weekend camp. After getting the kids out the door to school this morning, I spent about 3 hours networking on Skype, and 4 hours with unscheduled guests, attending the cable repair man, crawling into my ceiling to connect some cables. I worked on some papers and forms on the computer, and studied some for my exegesis course, which I teach in two days.  The internet went out two times for ...

I can’t say enough how Julie's words in her journals have blessed me. Over the 12 years of our marriage, we occasionally read to each other entries from our journals. But only occasionally. Why read each other’s journals when we had each other in person? In person, we could talk and share insights, struggles, and dreams. We met every morning for Paraguayan tea time. It was a ritual, a sacred date that we considered one of our daily highlights. Missing the 6am tea time was almost a transgression of a family tradition. Today during my early tea time, I opened a journal from six years ago. Julie was sharing her struggles as a mother, wife, and daughter of the king. A few months after Timmy’s birth, she wrote: "It’s my first Mother’s day ever. Thank you God for the privilege of being a mom. What a life change I have had in the last six months. Timmy has consumed so much of my time and energy but it is all worth it. Timmy is sitting up unassisted and soon, will ...