Passion for Paraguay

I have been going back to my journals and blogs to feel what life was before the accident. Connecting to Julies last sermon has helped me think what she was wrestling with, and some of the discussions we had over dinner conversations.  Julie had increasingly began preaching in our local church and other locations when she was invited. During our first years as missionaries, she resisted the idea of public speaking, blaming language and other responsibilities.  Her last sermon, about three weeks before the accident was on "The Vine", based on John 15. She spoke with eloquence and determination. She loved grapes and was always in touch with nature. Our plan was to plant grapes in May-June of 2012. We had designated a section on our property for this purpose.  People in church still remember Julie's power point illustrations and her way of presenting a profound truth about the Christian walk. Guess what I will do this coming May and ...

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 ...

10 months of grieving and healing All to You, I give it all to You. I lay my life before You. Lord, I surrender all. All that I have been through, I give it to You now. And though I have some questions, things I'll never understand, I come into Your presence, and I place them in Your hands. I know that You are faithful. Your mercy will sustain me, and Your grace will see me through. I cast my cares upon You, and I come to You in faith . (From the album, Thank You Lord, by Don Moen) Ten months ago, my life changed forever. I still wish so badly that I could go back to my former life, connected to Julie and Timothy. I struggle, I wrestle, but at the same time I am aware that I have to embrace and accept the new life God is giving me. It’s so easy to think that we are in control, and that life as we know it will last forever. Nobody lives expecting tragedy. We avoid it. But there is an appointed time. This alone should give us purpose and direction. I want to make mine ...

Encouraged by today's daily devotional We are all on a journey that leads us to live beyond this world. We have all faced or will face affliction as we live out the life God has entrusted us. Rejoicing is definitely my favorite part of the journey. Weeping is usually the hard side, the one we would like to avoid. This morning I read these thoughts in, Streams in the Desert, daily devotional. There is a limit to our affliction. God sends it and then removes it. . . After a long ordeal, the threshing tool is on its hook, and the wheat has been gathered into the barn. Before much time has passed, we may be just as happy as we are sorrowful now (Feb 16th, page 77). This is very promising and should be an encouragement  but not always easy to practice. When live gets tough, it seems that it will always be that way, and thinking beyond the momentary pain is definitely an act of surrender and commitment to a larger p...

My beloved son, Timothy: From the time you were very small, I called you different nicknames: Choclo, Campeón, Héroe, Ganador, Chupi, Boppi, Biscocho, Flecha, Luchador, Corredor, Botón, and more. Campeón (Champion) was one of my favorites because you had already overcome a number of hurdles. Although the odds of pregnancy were not in our favor, you came anyway after your mommy underwent surgery for endometriosis. Then, at birth, your umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck three times. I was so, so glad when you actually arrived, healthy and beautiful. With your birth behind us, we were a family of three. Your first summer welcomed you with 35 days of 100-plus-degree temperatures. We had just purchased a new air conditioner for your room, and we would wake up at night to make sure that you were okay. Fortunately, the nature of our work allowed for one of us to be with you at all times. This helped your mommy to make sure that you got breast milk for as long and as much ...

My beloved son, Timothy: Long before you came along, your mother and I wanted children. We believed in the promises of God and considered it an honor to be parents, if that was God’s plan for us. You were to be our firstborn, after a long wait. Once we found out that you were on the way, those first nine months seemed to pass so slowly. We talked to you, played music, and sang to you with the knowledge that you were developing. Julie tried to eat the right stuff, sleep, read, and tell me all about what she was learning. We had lively discussions on parenting styles. On August 31, our doctor said that we were expecting a boy. We were eager to meet you. Just over a month later, on October 1, we purchased a lot in town, where we wanted to one day, God willing, build our home. On the evening of October 14, we went to hear the UniNorte symphony orchestra. I remember that Julie smiled as you kicked her when the drums were played. It was as if you were saying, "Let m...

Anahi’s Second Birthday Anahi turned two on September 21. To celebrate, my sister Nila helped me organize a little party at our house. Anahi and I had a great time with all of our friends. We had a cake, finger food, candy, and a piñata. The kids also got to play for a while in the Globo Loco (bouncy house), and my sisters put on a puppet show. After a time of singing with the kids, I tried to share a few words, but I soon realized that I can’t say too much without breaking down. Anahi is my connection to Julie and Timi. Since I lost them, she has become my sunshine and a ray of hope in my life. But even as she has given me a reason to keep going forward, when I start to reflect I can't help but think about what she meant to my two loves. I know that Julie would have written so much more about Anahi by now. About how she likes to entertain and interact, and about how easily she smiles when someone asks her to pose for a picture. About how she loves her clothing...