My Big Adventure!

Here is a blog that I wrote a few weeks back. It has recently come to mind as we have a foot in two different worlds.

This is a picture of my neighbor’s house. It is a humble house with a large mango tree in the back yard. The living spaces consist of a room about the size of our living room and dining room and another small living space out past the mango trees. Typically in Nicaragua yards are living spaces, too.

It appears that in the house there are at least 4 adults, one teenager, a 10 year old and a baby. They make furniture, and more than once I have been so frustrated with listening to the table saw while I am trying to Skype, that I have yelled out in anger.

But today I think I saw Jesus at their house.

Every few days in the afternoon, a woman who looks old beyond her years stops at the house with three kids with uncombed hair, dirty faces, and the appearance of not having bathed in weeks. The woman has the same disheveled appearance, but I admire her. She drives a one horse cart that is loaded down with gnarled, roughly cut wood, and she sells it presumably to make money for the family. Each morning our house is filled with the smell of a campfire, so I believe our neighbors cook over an open fire. This woman and her children stop to sell what is needed and what they have to offer.

Today though, I heard, in a small, little girl voice, “Hola…..Hola…….HOLA”. It was only the girls on the cart, with the overburdened horse and a pile of wood. Our neighbor came to the door- the patriarch who I have seen sitting in the doorway reading his Bible. The three young girls, maybe 12, 8, and 6, unloaded the wood, made the monetary exchange, and then the older one was asked to come further into the house.

Because of the world situation, I am afraid to say that there is a fear in me when I see a young girl lead out of view of other; we are all too familiar with the abuse that happens behind closed doors. But what happened next delighted me. The girl walked out with her arms loaded with mangoes. My neighbor with the large mango tree gave from what he had.

From the response of the girls, you would have thought it was Christmas! They were acknowledged for something other than just being wood suppliers. They were recognized for being real girls with real needs.

As the 12 year old steered the horse in the other direction, she caught me looking at her through my open door. She smiled and waved as I smiled and waved back. This usually timid and withdrawn girl had something to smile about today.

 

Those of you who have walked this journey with us over the past few years know that we arrived in Masatepe without a vehicle. We had a costly and challenging problem with our previous car, and we were glad to finally be rid of it before we returned to the U.S. in November.

Since we have been in Masatepe we have not been without the need for a car, so God’s provision during this time has been very interesting.

When we arrived we lived on a farm outside of town. A local pastor was kind enough to loan us his extra car (a Mitsubishi Montero), which was amazing to arrive on the scene and be provided a house and a quality vehicle- it rode great over the bumpy roads, the AC was wonderful, and until the alarm would not stop going off, everything was great!

Then when we got to the place of moving, we were able to borrow the team truck- this is your ultimate Nica driving experience. The steering was loose, the AC was the four windows, and you did not have to worry about scratches because it was one big scratch. The wonderful thing though is that it took us through moving and all of our trips back and forth to Immigration.

Another vehicle we were able to rent was a Taxi. It was low to the ground and sporty (not necessarily a good traits here), had great AC, hugged the road, and we always had people waving at us- probably hoping for a ride. Unfortunately the other car of the owner had a problem and now the taxi has become their main vehicle.

The next car in the line-up and probably the most impressive was a 1988 Mercedes full size sedan. There were a few things that made this amazing: It came out the year I graduated from high school, I think we were the only ones in Nicaragua who were driving a car like that that day (We seemed to get special attention like a presidential motorcade), and it took us the who trip into Managua in the middle of a hot summer day to figure out the air conditioning. We were beyond wilted when we arrived at our friends surprise party!

A wonderful pastor friend of ours has a car that he is not able to drive because he can’t afford the gas to drive it, so he has rented his car to us several times. We are glad to be able to help in out in this way, and it has helped us make some appointments that we never thought we would make it to. The air conditioning is the four windows that are all controlled on the driver side and it does not have working seat belts, but it got us where we needed to go. I pray for safety a lot when we rent that car!

Our most recent rental experience was a 1989 Toyota van. In 1989 I tried to talk my aunt and uncle out of buying one just like it because I thought it was ugly- now I was thankful for it because it allowed us to get to the graduation of a friend. It was a bit of a challenge because the door locks would randomly lock, the side door had no handle, making it not very useful as a van, but it got us where we wanted to go.

All of the above is very normal around here. This is a place where if you have a car, it is often like the “college car” of Americans.

It has become very clear that we need a car for our own work inside and outside Masatepe as well as for our team. More and more we are asked to do things that require a four wheel-drive, higher clearance vehicle.

We have had several generous donations toward a car, and we have been praying daily since April for this provision. In the mean time we wait, we listen, and we continue to see how God is going to provide!

Teaching in Nicaragua has not been like teaching in Oregon! I have never felt like such a bad teacher in all my life. My classes in the U.S. were always structured, I did my best to communicate well, and I held fast to the rule that no one talked while someone else was talking.

A few weeks before I arrived back into Nicaragua, I was asked if I would be willing to fill in for a teacher who had changed her mind about teaching. The need was for 7^th, 8^th, and 9^th grade English classes, and since I had nothing in my schedule other than Spanish and I have experience with those grades, I had no reason to say no to the request. I had been in classrooms in Nicaragua before and this is a Christian school after all.

I have now been teaching for almost five months, and I still come away from every Tuesday feeling a mix of dismay, discouragement, amazement and exhaustion. Every Tuesday, I teach 1 ½ hours in each grade; starting at 7:45 AM and ending at 1 PM. Instead of classes with Jack, Katelyn, and Megan, I have classes of Maria Fernanda, Guillermo, Luis Antonio, and Adolfo. Sad, but true, it has taken me almost all of these five months to learn everyone’s name. Many of them do not know my name either, though, so we are learning together! (See picture of student work)

Let me just say up front that the staff has been very kind to me, although I don’t think they know quite how to respond to me. I do not always have the words to communicate with the administration or the staff what I would like, and since I value communication it has left me feeling frustrated and stuck!

Individually the students have been respectful and responsive, but when you get groups of young people together who do not understand what their teacher is saying, and they know that their teacher doesn’t understand them, most kids take advantage of that (Both sides know more than we are letting on J)- these kids are no exception. I usually come away from each class feeling taken advantaged of and I really do not like that feeling!

Also Nicaraguan schools in general have looser expectations of quiet. They live in a country that is rarely quiet; there are loud announcements in the street, loud music in church, and loud noises around in the home. I feel like I have spent the majority of my Tuesday saying various forms of “Be quiet”, “Listen” “Stop Talking”, “Be Respectful”, etc…. It gets very wearing after the first few minutes let alone five hours!

Anyone who has been around kids, knows that the last thing you want to deal with with challenging students is anything that will distract them. In the course of the last few months, we have had an earthquake during the 9^th grade class, a bird fly in one window and fly full speed into a closed window on the other side of the room in 7^th grade, a six inch moth fluttering around in 8^th grade, the city fumigators coming through in 7^th grade, and intense humid heat and no fan in all the classes. To state the obvious, the distraction level is very high!

Another issue is numbers; the 7^th grade is 36 students, 8^th grade is 42 students, and 9^th grade is 25. The rooms are less than half the size of the classrooms I taught in both the US and Germany. Distraction is high, and trying to keep students from looking on each other’s papers has seemed nearly impossible.

My biggest frustration has been the limited communication that I am able to have. I know enough to know when something has been said inappropriately but not enough to call them on it. I get a lot of “innocent” looks after the fact!

The good news is that my Spanish is improving, but I have definitely been dumped in the deep end of the pool. Successes have been few and frustrations have been many. This past week, in 7^th grade, I dropped my whiteboard pen and walked out of the classroom- I needed a time out!

School here in Nicaragua runs from February through November, putting us very near the end of the semester. My commitment was for one semester, so now that I am seeing the end in sight the good things are coming in view- improved Spanish, when I walk around town I see more people that I recognize, I have received apologizes (prompted by strong Latino moms) for behavior and poor work, the 9^th grade boys can be very charming when they want something, I really do love saying the different names, I think they have all learned something, and honestly I think I really will miss many of these kids!

It is funny how even the rascals can be endearing when you know the time is short!

The good news is that there is not a lot to tell at this point in regards to our team. The bad news is that our team has been affected by this virus, and many people around us continue to be.

In the middle of May, Claire, one of our teammates, came to work with a rash on her face. She had been eating a lot of mangoes and her house had been fumigated, so she assumed that it was connected with either one of those. Over the next few days the rash got worse so she decided to go to the doctor, who took a blood test and confirmed with 75% assuredness that it was the Zika. The other options were chikungunya or dengue. He said that although the local government was not making it public, many people in the town were experiencing the same symptoms and they all lined up with Zika.

About a week later I got a headache, fever, and then a day later the rash- red, hot, raised bumps that start on the face and move south. This was followed by swollen, painful joints. This whole process took about five days and then it appeared that I was in the clear.

During this time Brandon, a fellow team member, came down with the virus, also. I did not know about his experience because I had been at home, and he was just returning from a short trip to the US. He had been infected here in Nicaragua but has started the symptoms in the U.S.

The morning that I thought the virus was behind me, I went to Spanish class and started to feel a weird feeling in my thumb joint. In the course of an hour it spread through my hand and wrist- a numb and tingling feeling. By the end of class, it had moved into my other hand.

Stephen had been talking to Brandon who had heard about the connection with Zika and Guillain-Barre syndrome; a syndrome where paralysis can be localized or spread throughout your body. The worst case is not being able to breath due to paralysis. Brandon was experiencing this numbing in his hands and feet.

I called Stephen on my way home from Spanish, and he told me about Brandon. I told him that I was experiencing that, too. The fear here is no 911 type services, being an hour from the first capable hospital, and not having a vehicle. Things that might feel minor in some cases become a little more serious. That is when Stephen contacted you all to pray for Brandon and me.

I headed home and throughout that day the numbing moved up my arms. We had read that if it starts in your feet then it is more likely to move throughout more of your body, so the plan of attack was to head to the hospital if that started. Brandon has a car, so we all stayed in touch in case we things changed.

Over the next few days my numbness subsided, and Brandon’s numbness took a few more days. Thank you so much for your prayers! I credit the quick turn around and encouragement during that time to so many people around the world lifting us up in prayer!

The after effect has been a lot of tiredness, still some random pain, and a lack of focus at times.

As many of you know, I was scheduled to leave for the U.S. on May 26^th for my niece’s graduation. I was able to go, and got to recover with my family and the comforts of America- air conditioning, cars, comfortable chairs, and good food!

The bad news was that the day after I arrived, I got a call from Stephen saying that he was starting the symptoms, and he was on his own! He slept through as much as possible. Thankfully, he did not get the numbing since he was by himself.

So the fall out for us here in Masatepe has been increased numbers of people getting the Zika virus in town and now it is spreading to other communities, I-Teams chose to cancel our five interns for the summer to keep them from getting the virus, and our two short-term teams that were coming in October have postponed until the dry season. These were disappointing results since I was really looking forward to connecting with these people.

The biggest change though is in regards to Hannah, Brandon’s wife, who is pregnant and was visiting her family in the US when Claire came down with the virus. She was due to return in the end of May. She will now be staying in the U.S. and will be able to deliver her baby there. It is hard to not have her here as part of our team, but it is a blessing that she has not had the risks that can come with pregnancy and Zika.

“We make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps” (Proverbs 16:9). Sometimes there are things about that I do not like, but it is good to know that Someone Else sees the big picture and knows what is best.

Hipicas is the roving horse show that comes to most of the major and minor cities throughout the year in Nicaragua. It is a reason for a town to have a big party, and although it comes with pickpockets and thieves from the big cities and plenty of beer, it is also a great time to watch people, get dressed up, and see some amazing animals!

Today was Hipica in Masatepe and it did not disappoint! The idea is to watch a parade of big, beautiful, well-groomed horses sidestep and dance their way through the city. You could feel the anticipation in the town on the days leading up- whitewashing of the curbs of the parade route, stores closing early, and the Tona (local beer) entourage coming down our street last night complete with a large mechanical bull and scantily clad dancing women.

The rumor was that it started at two, so at three we went to find our place on the curb a few blocks down. We waited about another hour before we saw the beginnings of the parade. During that time we were entertained by people dressed up in their best western clothes, many of them strutting through the parade route hoping that others would see them in their finest.

At the same time that we were watching, we were definitely also being watched. We tend to stand out and this was no exception. At one point a rather gregarious drunk man was about to walk past us, then caught Stephen out of the corner of his eye and yelled, “Chele!” (This is the polite way to say “white boy”.) He welcomed us to his country, and spent the next few minutes talking very loudly at us.

The noise is a main part of every Nicaraguan celebration we have been a part of; at one end of the block are six speakers playing music, and in intervening locations there were two mariachi bands playing at full volume, horses are coming through, and people are talking loudly. I usually come away from any event- church or party with a bit of a void in my ears.

These horses really are amazing! They are huge Clydesdale types (different Spanish breeds), and they are such a contrast to the boney work horses that we see daily pass in front of our window. And in a celebration of the well-dressed and beautiful horses, you also see the poor old woman collecting empty beer cans in order to make a little money.

As the parade continued, storm clouds were building in the East. It went from a few big drops, to a total downpour in a few minutes. The rain equals the playing field between the wealthy and the poor. We grabbed our plastic chairs, put them on our heads and made our way back to our house, glad we had experienced a bit more of Masatepe!

 

 

Our House

When we arrived in the beginning of February, we thought that we would look around Masatepe for a few days, find a house and settle in. We were wrong. Many of you remember that we were “on the farm” for the first month and a half before we settled into our present home.

We are very thankful for this house, which is just 4 blocks down the road from the café and office that we work in. It is spacious, has a garage, and the front room is a great shade of blue.

I think the quirks of the house, though, are a lot more interesting.

We have a white, shiney, tile floor. This would be a wonderful thing if I lived by myself, in an air conditioned house with a maid, but the reality is that we have a neighbor who makes sawdust which waffs into our house on a daily basis. I also have a husband and two cats leaving tracks in the dust, until this week when the rainy season started; now they are tracks of mud!

The back wall of our bedroom and the side wall of our kitchen are actually the retaining wall of our neighbor. This house was built to exactly fit into the space that was left. Our kitchen has one wall that slants out by three feet, making the kitchen kind of an optical illusion!

Before Stephen added another breaker, we had lights that would flick on and off throughout the night, and we could not run the fan, the widow maker in the shower and the electric frying pan at the same time. Now we are down to just not being able to shower and cook at the same time!

Stephen describes our back patio as the outside facility for solitary confinement. It is a 20 by 10 foot space with 12 foot high walls and barbed wire. It is the laundry facility, workshop, plant growing, cat box, and water tank location.

Our water tank is a wonderful blessing because when the city turns the water off daily, this is our backup water. If we forget to close the tank, it will run over causing what sounds like torrential downpour in our back patio.

A few other tidbits: Our bedroom has no window making it about 5 degrees warmer than the rest of the house, we rarely flush toilet paper (L), we have a sink with running water that does not have a drain, we have one bathroom where the bats hang out (we don’t use that one!), our front door has six ways to secure/lock it, our windows are barred but they are also always open, an orange cat can fit through the glass slates just perfectly, allowing him to bring birds into the house, and a grey cat enjoys taking the metal drains out if the showers at night for entertainment!

In closing, just one more thing: The other day, I called a local business to have them deliver three large bottles of water. I had not given my name, but was starting to give them directions. I was interrupted with the question (in Spanish of course), “Are you the teacher of Iris?”

I said, “Yes”, and they replied that they knew where to deliver it. Now that is service (and small town living)!

One More Year of Residency

On March 25^th our residency card expired. At the time we were two weeks into our new house with boxes all around, it was Holy Week, so many government offices were closed, Stephen’s parents had just left, and we had a short-term team here from Ohio. It did not even seem possible for us to make this happen, so we called our residency friend and she told us that it was no problem- we would only need to pay $1 a day and we could renew it later. That was partly true!

The following Monday we knew it was time to tackle it, so we rented the Ministry truck- a true Nica truck with more dents than flat surfaces, windows for air conditioning , and plumes of black smoke when you go uphill.

Our first stop was Granada for our police reports. Our friend Roger came to help, and after an hour of waiting in line at the bank to pay for the report and another hour at the police station, we found out that we could not get the police report to renew our residency because our residency had expired. We would have to drive to Immigration in Managua to pay and get a form so that we could come back and get our police report.

An hour and a half later we arrived in Managua to Immigration to find that in order to get this paper we needed to visit a lawyer to write a letter, copy our document, and make this process official. Conveniently there are about 25 lawyers with computers and photocopiers under tents outside of Immigrations- 30 minutes later and $8 poorer we have what we need. We went back into Immigration, paid our late fee, found out that the paper we needed would not be available until tomorrow, and joined the rush hour traffic heading out of the city- STRIKE 1.

Due to our schedule we did not get back to our residency issues until Friday. We had an ambition goal- all five documents we needed for our residency in one day!

We hit the road early- 7 AM. Our first stop was Immigration in Managua to get the paper to take to Granada Police Department. At 8:30 AM we arrived at Immigration, and we walked out with what we needed at 8:35 AM (Amazing!).

Now back to Granada! When we arrived at the Police Department, we were greeted by a young woman who was in one of our first Bible Studies- what a great thing to get to reconnect with her! Somehow we were fast-tracked through, and we left with our reports in 30 minutes (Amazing!) Two things accomplished by a little after 10:30!

The next stop was Masaya Social Security office to buy the National Health Insurance. By 11 AM we were sitting in the air- conditioned office behind a man with a shaved head and tattoos, and hoping for the best. The man spoke English, helped with the whole process, and the woman at the desk who was wonderfully helpful, was able to practice her English with us. We were on the road in 45 minutes.

I cannot tell you how amazing this is to deal with three government agencies successfully in only the first half of the day!

The next stop was pictures, and then on to the school in Managua to get the final document. We made it there by a little before 2, and we were out the door by 2:45- another amazing turn around. By now I was calling these miracles, because really it is only by the work of God that this is all coming together!

The last part was the dash to Immigration across town. We made it there just after closing, but thanks to a friend with connections we were able to get in the gate to hand in our paperwork.

At the desk she looks through our documents and said we were missing one document, something we were not aware of- I felt like people must feel when they missed a step in the Amazing Race and have to go back and start over. Actually, at this point I was angry and was vowing to leave the country and never come back! STRIKE 2

The truth is though that it was an AMAZING day of seeing God work on our behalf- I really needed that encouragement!

This past Monday was our third attempt at the residency renewal. We got up early again, made a quick stop at the Social Security office to find out that Stephen’s insurance could only go through if he is signed on as my domestic help for the next two months- I LOVE THIS! The next step was Managua for the final paper we had missed earlier.

We had it by 10 AM and were at Immigration 30 minutes later. When we got to the front of the line we found out we were missing one more thing, but we could not understand what they were saying. Amazingly enough, our residency friend was standing in the next line over. She was able to help us; we needed to write a letter saying that we really do want to renew our residency (seems like a strange request since we had done so much to prove that already).

By 11:15 AM, the paperwork was in, and we were walking out the door- What a wonderful feeling!

On the way home we stopped at PriceSmart (Costco) to get kitty litter, and we ran into our friend Regina who has helped us and been a wonderful encouragement in this process. It was great to get to talk with her and express our appreciation!

Now we wait for the April 27^th when we go in to receive our actual residency cards, but we wait seeing God’s provision in the process.

When we arrived back into Nicaragua, we came to a new town with new dreams, new connections, part of a new ministry, and I was looking forward to the abundance of the change. The reality was actually quite different.

I have found frustration and anger to be near the surface often, and this transition to Masatepe was a continuation of that. We arrived here not funded enough to get a full paycheck, I started teaching English at a Nicaragua Christian school and was VERY frustrated with the experience, we did not move into a permanent (at least one year) house until a month after arriving, we had no internet at the house, so communication with those who know me was severely restricted, and the internet that we could get was public, which those of you who me, know that is very challenging.

This anger I have seems to be based in disappointment, and quite honestly a feeling that, “God can do better than this for me so why isn’t he doing it!” I am a missionary, working for him, so aren’t I entitled to some good stuff? Instead he has put me in a city with no house, a frustrating job, no way to communicate with the outside world, and all the normal issues of transition. Why does everything have to be so difficult?

I would love to say that I am past all this, but I think it is more of a process for me than an instant change. Some truth has come to me in some specific ways, though.

One has been a Bible Study that I have been able to hang on to with several women from Granada. Somehow it has worked most weeks for me to join them and has given me an outlet to be honest, be prayed for, and cared about.

The other way that God has spoken to me was through a lady who came to the door. She persistently said, “Buenos Dia” until I came. On arriving she told me that she needed money. I told her that we do not give out money but if she would like something to eat then I can make something for her. She insisted again that it was money she needed. When I told her again that I do not give money, she told me that Stephen had given her money, which I was sure he had not. I offered food again, and she got VERY angry and stomped off yelling that we are bad people for not helping her.

I did not feel bad not giving her money but as she walked about I saw myself in her. The role I was playing with God was the demanding lady who wanted what I wanted and not what he was offering me. Yikes! That’s pretty ugly.

The irony is that the days following this experience, we have seen some specific answers to these stresses. We do have a house, and it has become a place of rest at the end of the day.

Just yesterday we reached the 100% mark for our support, so starting May 1^st we will have a full paycheck!

Also yesterday I got an assistant for my English classes- what a difference it makes having someone to work with and help manage the classes.

And finally this past Monday we were able to get internet in the house- now we can skype and email and be connected once again.

God has provided in His way and His time!

It is different, just different. That is what I can say about traditions and activities around holidays here. This past week we experienced some of that “different” as we became more familiar with Semana Santa (Holy Week) in Masatepe. We had become familiar with the parades and fireworks in Granada, and here it is substituted with chains, professions of faith and pork rinds.

The original tradition has to do with Judas and Jesus being taken through the city in chains in order to remember the events of the Passion Week. Currently the celebration consists of youth- mostly boys, dressed in skirts and shirts, wearing masks and bright, crepe paper hats, and dragging chains. Men dressed in raincoats are caught in the chains as they processed from the church to the cemetery. Few people could say how this originated, but it seemed to be some rite of passage in the community.

Friday afternoon, about 200 people walked somberly through the streets, with a loud brass band playing, carrying a large float of Jesus on the cross, a statute of the pope, a statute of Mary, and a statute of who I think was another saint. We live on a main road, so we get to see the many processions.

That evening we thought we were going to a Good Friday Service at the church where I teach during the week. When we arrived we found out that it was actually a “welcome home” for young people who had been on a retreat for the week. We find ourselves in this situation often- only getting part of the story. Some of it is what is lost in translation, and some of it is that rarely are all the details shared. It is not like the US where we get and give “who, what, when, where, and how?” as part of an invitation. We go with the flow much more here.

Despite the evening being unexpected, we enjoyed being a part of their celebration. We were able to see them dance, sing, do drama, skits, and finally see 10 young people give their lives to Christ! It truly made it a good Friday!

Sunday they had a special service in the morning including lunch and baptism. Normally church is in the evening here; either Saturday or Sunday. We came on time, 9AM, which is really early because people continue to show up for the next several hours. The preaching rarely starts before 10:30.

This morning the music was extremely loud. I thought that maybe the feeling of my ears vibrating was due to the place I was sitting in the sanctuary. But the reality was that Hannah, who lives five blocks away could hear the music clearly when she walked out the door of her house. I don’t think I will ever get use to this.

Stephen had gone out in search of water and when he returned we went outside until music was finished. This was not out of place at all since roaming around during the service in normal.

The preacher was equally loud, and I kept wishing he would take a breath so my ears could have a rest. He spoke so fast that I could not pick up very much Spanish. I was thankful when I was asked to help with the meal that was being prepared for after the service. Listen to loud, rapid Spanish, not easy. Help prepare a meal, I can do that!

So the main thing about the meal is that it centered around a very large pig that had been killed for the occasion. He showed up in many different forms, but what I got to help with was truly unique to me.

Dressed in my Sunday best, and alongside the pastor’s wife and Hannah, we got to break large pieces of fried pork skin into smaller pieces so that they could go with the bean soup. The rinds filled the 18 liter plastic container; the kind we use to ship things down to Nicaragua. Other women who were helping would come by to steal a piece now and then. Both of my helper had to eventually bow out because of cuts from the fried skins.

This was not my usual Easter event, but it was fun to be a part of the festivities. We watched the baptisms and then headed home to enjoyed our traditional American Easter dinner. We watched a video about Israel and relived our tour last summer, and enjoyed a cake that a friend made for us. Sometimes it is nice to be a part of familiar traditions.

PS: Friends, we have been very disconnected because of our unsettledness over the past two months. We did move into a house a few weeks ago, and we should have internet this weekend in our house. We have been using it at work since we arrived but it has not consistently reliable. We hope things settle out soon so we can be in better contact.

Take another step, and another step…

Yesterday, I was unpacking clothes and bathroom stuffing, getting settled into our home, and listening to music. A mood of heaviness had come over the house, and I was trying to combat it.

Take another step, and another step. When the road ahead is hard and you don’t know what to do. Take another step and another step, trust God and take another step.

We have spent the last 4 months living out of suitcases. We are happy to have a place to call home. I was thrilled when I realized that for the first time in over 4 months that I could cook a meal for Stephen with all of the kitchen supplies I needed and in my own kitchen.

We are excited to see the formation of a team here in Masatepe and to be a part of the bigger picture of God’s work. I am starting to enjoy my 7^th, 8^th and 9^th grade students whom I teach English (105 kids), and we feel blessed to be connecting with friends in Granada as opportunity and transportation allows.

Stephen’s parents were here for 3 weeks and they greatly blessed us with furniture, meals out, transportation, several games of Wizard, and a LOT of help moving.

There is a team from Ohio that has arrived yesterday who we will be working with this week; an opportunity to enjoy their company and learn more about the ministry here in Masatepe.

We have many things that we are thankful for, and if you read between the lines, you might pick up that we have a lot of “almosts”- we are almost unpacked, we are working to set up our home, we are in the process of getting to know our team, students, and this short-term team, and if you read Stephen’s message the other day, you know that we are almost fully supported.

It has been quite the ride over the past several months. It was wonderful to spend time with family and friends for the holidays, it was amazing to get together with people to share our new vision and see people respond, we have really enjoyed our beginnings here in Masatepe, and we are excited for what is to come.

Right now though, we are in a place of wondering; wondering how God’s will work in some specific areas and wondering how everything is going to unfold.

I feel the distance of contact with people this month due to lack of internet and time, and tired from the last few months of uncertainty. I am wishing that the next few months will be filled with some ease. I know I do not get chose but this is what I am asking of God; that those “almosts” would become certainties, that those certainties would become boxes of faith that we will look back to and point to His faithfulness.

So we, Take another step and another step, trust God and take another step*

Love, Natalie

PS: If you want to see the adventures of the last month and a half check out Stephen’s Facebook page-

*Stephen Curtis Chapman, Take Another Step, CD Glorious Unfolding https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6E0F2s_3I78