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 Timoth...

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...

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 Timo...

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...

Today, as Anahi and I drove towards my sister’s house in Bella Vista before noon, I realized again how many people grill stake for lunch. I saw smoke going up in various back yards. Families come together to grill and share. In most Paraguay's settings, life slows down on Sundays. Groceries stores are closed and people look forward to their Sunday get together. Coming together with friends and family on Sunday, is a tradition Julie and I have embraced since arriving in Paraguay. There are very few restaurants in the area. Eating out usually means a treat or is saved for special occasions. Some forty thousand people live in the area known as Colonias Unidas. There are probably no more than five decent restaurants in the area, and only three are open on weekends. Eating out is not much of an option. As I drove to Bella Vista, and spent a few hours with my sister’s family, I realized again, the gift of family.  I am blessed for having my immediate family living within minutes...

Birthday breakfast in bed When I was growing up, my family often missed birthdays, and what might have been a special occasion became just another day. But when Julie came into the family, she made sure that no one was left without a party. Depending on which side of the equator we found ourselves, my birthday was celebrated either in the midst of wonderfully sunny summer days or cold and rainy winter days. This year the forecast for my birthday here in Paraguay includes rain and freezing temperatures. But it will also be cold because Julie won’t be here. Every June 22, I can remember Julie getting up an hour earlier to make something special for me. Often a birthday breakfast would include crunchy pancakes, French toast, scrambled eggs, or fruit salad. Julie would brew special Brazilian coffee, add an extra touch to a favorite recipe, and serve it all to me while I was still in bed. Tomorrow, however, my birthday just won’t be the same. I will wake up, and, unless Anahi ...

Saying Goodbye It’s been 14 months since the tragedy. Intellectually, I know that Julie and Timothy are not with me anymore, but, emotionally, accepting this to be true has been hard. After reading an article on intentional grieving, I've realized the importance of facing my pain and the places that meant a lot to us. I am advised that one way to do this is to write a goodbye letter and to find a meaningful place to read it out loud. Another approach is to write about events, places, and things that we both enjoyed, and gradually say goodbye in that way. I've learned that facing the pain weakens the grasp it will have in my life in the future. I have not yet said goodbye to so many daily things that Julie and I shared. When I fill out forms, I still cannot mark the widowed box. I can’t accept the fact that I am a widower. I still have my ring on. I have not taken it off since 2002, when Julie and I said, "I DO." I still talk about "us" when address...