They Matter

It has been two weeks since the news broke of George Floyd’s tragic, painful, extremely sad death. I’ve wanted to write, to not be a silent bystander, but didn’t know the right words. My words will not be perfect, but they are mine. Everyone has their own words, backgrounds, life experiences that breathe into their viewpoints, beliefs, and passions. These are mine.

I grew up as a stereotypical white American does- like the kids in the movies. I lived in a suburb. I went to good public schools. I was in after school (and before school) extracurricular activities. I went to church. I played with my friends in the neighborhood. And I can honestly say that the first time I recollect REALLY noticing a race difference in my friends wasn’t until college. Crazy, right? Not for lack of diverse friends. I grew up in a suburb of Dallas, where I went to school with white people, Hispanics, black people, Indians, Asians, etc, etc, etc. Looking back now, my school was diverse. But I never thought of those peers as their race. I thought of them by who they were, what they excelled at. I never thought of them as “my black friend” or “my Indian friend.”

Then, I went off to college. I chose to go to a private university that happened to be very expensive. It was also extremely undiversified. It was very, very white. Yes, there were non-white students, but as I’m thinking back, I could probably count on one hand the number of minorities that were in my program of 80ish students. That’s not a high percentage. My university is known for educating students well and sending out people who achieve great success. To state where I earned my degree from is an honor, and people who know the school usually think highly of it and its alumni. My senior year of college, as I was completing my undergraduate degree in Elementary Education with an emphasis in English as a Second Language, I was also working a few hours a day as a nanny to two children who lived in a very posh neighborhood and went to a very posh public school. Usually posh and public school don’t go together, but this school was crazy. The moms wore couture track suits and full hair and makeup to pick their children up. The moms volunteered to do anything the teacher needed. The parents gave teachers lavish gifts for every major holiday. The funding for school events was astronomical. Houses zoned to go to this school sold in hours, not days or months, because of the school itself. And, everyone was white. There was no diversity, just fairly fake, cookie cutter lives. Well, as I was putting my resume out to look for a job for the following school year, it was recommended by some of this school’s faculty and by the mom of the children I nannied for that I should apply to work there. And it was the easiest ‘no’ I was ever offered.

At the time, I was finishing up my student teaching at a school nearby that was just about the opposite of the ‘posh school.’ The school I was student teaching at was full of students from low socioeconomic backgrounds. There were students who spoke multiple languages. There were even refugee students. It was a very diverse school. In fact, my school was 50% black, 40% Hispanic, and 10% “other,” which included white, Asian, etc. White was the minority at my school. And I LOVED that school. I loved my students, I loved their families, I loved that I got to share my life with them for the 5 years I taught before moving overseas. Some of their lives were messy, but so is mine, and it was one of the most rewarding and meaningful things I have ever had the privilege of doing just to impact the people in that community in the little ways that I did. I loved my students (and their families), black, Hispanic, and “other.”

Then, after several years of teaching, my husband and I took our 10 month old baby and moved to the opposite side of the world- to India. And now, this white suburban girl (woman) is a minority. I have been a minority now for 7+ years. I know what it feels like to be the one that people look at when you walk in a room. I know what it feels like to walk down the street and have people stare at you from one end all the way to the other. I know what it’s like to know that people are talking about you but don’t want you to know (which, by the way, gets really interesting when they don’t know that you speak and understand the language they are “discretely” speaking in to talk about you), and I know what it’s like for people to make assumptions about you as soon as you walk in the door, without knowing a single thing about you except the color of your skin. I get that.

But I would be a fool to say that I get what it is like to live as a black man or woman in America right now, or any point in our nation’s history leading up to right now. There is no way for me to comprehend all that entails. The fear, the pain, the strife, and the weariness that come with black skin in America for no good reason. I will never get that. It isn’t fair. It is tragic. It is painful. It is extremely sad. Sad that men and women, and even boys and girls, treat others with such selfishness and anger and contempt and hatred because they have made assumptions about them based on their skin color. What a shame. Shame on you, America. Shame on us, for not loving our brother and our sister well. Shame on us for being bystanders instead of upstanders. Shame on us for not granting every person the love that God so richly, generously, and freely pours out on us by the blood of Jesus. God created every life for a purpose- a good purpose. He created blacks to glorify Him. He created immigrants to glorify Him. He created police officers to glorify Him. He created babies in their mothers' wombs to glorify Him. (Yeah, I went there.) He created every single life to glorify Him. We should encourage one another to walk in His ways and we should support one another however we can. Right now, I want those who feel unsupported to know that I’m here. This is me saying that I care about you, no matter who you are and no matter what the color of your skin is. You are loved. You are important. Your life does matter. So much.

It isn’t too late. You don’t have to choose a side. There don’t have to be sides.

 

1 Corinthians 1:10 I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another in what you say and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be perfectly united in mind and thought.

2 Corinthians 13:11 Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice! Strive for full restoration, encourage one another, be of one mind, live in peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you.

Galatians 3:28 There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.

The 2010's

I've been thinking a lot this month about all that has happened to me in the past decade, and what a jam-packed 10 years I've had.

I began the decade as a young, single teacher who loved teaching, running, and sharing Jesus with people. I loved driving to work before most people were on the road, and I loved getting off of work and going to the gym before most people also. I enjoyed my students, had the best teaching team EVER, loved my church, and loved running long, long distances many days every week.

In 2010, on February 27, I ran another half-marathon. On February 28, I was studying in Panera Bread with my best friend and fellow seminarian. Normally, I would always look "presentable," especially since I was single and mingling, but I was sore from the previous day, so I was in a hoodie and sweatpants. And that's the outfit I was in when I met Kyle. We met on the last day of February, started dating in early April, and were engaged at the end of July. We were young(ish), but we had been around long enough to know what we wanted and didn't want, and we both knew we wanted each other.

On March 19, 2011, we were married. Our wedding was, in my opinion, a lovely, God-focused celebration. It was so fun to see our worlds colliding, our 'people' meeting, and our new life together beginning. And, the candy bar at the reception was wicked awesome. We set off the next day for our honeymoon to Riviera, Mexico. It was fun, adventuresome, and relaxing, but intermittent with petty fights. We learned a lot about each other that week!

A little over a year after that, we were blessed with our newest bundle of joy, Corinth Sophia, who was born 6 weeks early! The plan was that I would finish out teaching my last year of school, as we were planning to move overseas the following year. Corinth's due date was June 11, which gave me a couple of weeks after school finished before her scheduled arrival. But she couldn't wait! She was born on May 7, 2012, spent 4 days in the NICU, and was home and in my arms. We were SO. IN. LOVE. She was precious and perfect and absolutely wonderful! One of our first outings was to our school's field day. Field day was my JAM, and I loved racing my students (and winning) every year! I couldn't miss it, so little Miss and I strolled up to the school for field day and had a blast! The rest of the summer, we were inseparable, going everywhere together- the pool, daddy's work (a homeless shelter!), grandparents' houses, and even a mission trip to Mississippi with a Jesus biker gang.

That Fall, we prepared ourselves to move overseas, moving out of our 1 bedroom apartment and into both sets of grandparents for Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. In early January 2013, we moved to Richmond, VA for training before we headed overseas. We left on Easter Sunday and arrived in India on April 1. We only lasted about 6 weeks before Kyle got so sick that we came back to America. After 3 surgeries, a PICC line, and 6 months of medical nightmares, Kyle was healthy and we made our way back to India, our second landing date being October 3, 2013. This time we came back expecting our second child!

Shortly after 2014 began, we headed to a month-long language intensive in a lovely city with much more delightful weather. Following that, we spent 3 months in the capital waiting for our sweet Noah Coleman to arrive. He was born on May 2, 2014. He was a sweet addition to our family, and always slept! I remember bringing him to the pool in the crazy Indian summer heat and him sleeping through the entire thing. He was the peace and pause that we needed. The rest of 2014 was (sadly) filled with a lot of heartache and familial hardship. It was definitely the work of Satan, fought against by the grace of God.

2015 was a relatively calm year. We both passed our language requirements and were able to do more full-time work! We also felt like we were really enjoying "settling in" to our life in India. Don't read this wrong- we had plenty of "I hate India" days, but we were finally feeling like we were at home and had friends and could do life here.

2016, we welcomed our 3rd blessing! Our darling Ruthie Grace was born on September 28, 2016. She was a ended up baby- happy, smiley, and social, just like her big sister! 6 weeks after she was born, we headed back from our home in India to our Stateside Assignment. It was a fun 6 months because 2 of our children had never been to America and Corinth was too young to remember it. We try not to always make America sound so amazing, but before we went back, Kyle and I were feeling very ready to get out of India, and in our heads America was the promised-land. Everything about America was wonderful, and we made sure our kids knew it! I remember telling them, "you can go into the grocery store and there is a whole aisle as long as our house just filled with different kinds of cereal!" And you better believe that the first day we were back we went to that magical cereal aisle and let them pick out any cereal they wanted. It was amazing!

In 2017, we headed back to India. While on stateside, we prayed for 2 hopeful things- a home with a yard for our young kids to play in, and Indian friends for our kids. We ended up moving into a ground floor single-standing home with both a front and back yard. It was absolutely an answer to prayer that we still continually thank God for. It totally changed how we live in India.

In 2018, my kids made those friends. Well, God gave those friends to my kids, actually. It took a while for me to get used to, but my kids' friends, a sister and 2 brothers, come over to our house every day to play with our kids. They speak no English, so my kids' Hindi is SO much better than before. And the best part is that my kids have friends that aren't going to move away. We have a great, wonderful community of ex-pats, many of whom have kids that are friends with my children. But we have seen many friends come and go, and it is always very difficult. This year, our best friends moved to another city in India, and our hearts were crushed. They were more like family than just friends, and it was a very hard season for us to let them go. We are still great friends with them, but it definitely changed our lives. I know that God provided our Indian friends because He knew we would need them when our ex-pat "family" moved away. This year we also all (except Noah) got Dengue at the same time. That was TERRIBLE. One person getting dengue is terrible, but an entire family getting it at the same time is... well, I would never wish that on anyone. It was rough. A few months later, the year ended with me getting to tell Kyle on Christmas Day that we were expecting another (our last!) bundle of joy!

2019 has come and gone quickly! It started well, but in March, at 20 weeks into my pregnancy, I found out that I had complete placenta previa. I went from no physical activity to partial bedrest, to a fairly abrupt, emotional move to the capital by myself, followed by complete bedrest and finally a traumatic, emergency delivery. Praise God, I was healthy, as was our new sweet baby girl (that I really thought was going to be a boy!). Tiny Annabeth Joy Ferguson was born on July 21, 2019, one month early. We are LOVING her, and she has definitely completed our family. Well, as far as people go. We just got our first pet, a bunny named Rosie, as a family Christmas present.

It seems that every couple of years I've been having babies. Now, that stage is over. My baby decade is done. I'd say the next decade will slow down a bit, but I know that isn't true. The 2010's were awesome. They brought me most of the greatest joys of my life (but not all!). I can't wait to see what the 2020's hold!

Annabeth Joy's Birth Story

 

 

This pregnancy was without a doubt the worst of my four pregnancies. I’ve had issues with each one, but nothing like this one. I made a list shortly before she was born of everything that was terrible about this pregnancy, partially because I was feeling sorry for myself, and partially because I knew that IF I shared the list, it’d be nice for other moms (who aren’t loving being pregnant) to know that they aren’t alone! Here’s the list:

 Nausea

 Vomiting

 Heartburn

Placenta previa

No exercise allowed

No sex allowed

MRI

Panic attack during the MRI

Alone/away from my family for over a month

Possible hysterectomy

Contractions

 Infections

 Bedrest

Bleeding leading to a hospital stay

Pelvic pain

Bruised ribs

My first stretch marks ever

Lots of bloodwork and ultrasounds

 Varicose veins

 Vertical c-section

Melasma

Constipation

Hemorrhoids

 Anxiety

Worry

Fear

Panic

Loneliness

And that was just before the traumatic birth! Needless to say, I did not enjoy this pregnancy in the least. I loved feeling my baby move around, and knowing that she had hiccups a lot, but that was pretty much the only fun part! Now, for the birth story…
I found out when I was just 20 weeks pregnant that I had placenta previa, which basically means that your placenta is blocking the way for your baby to be delivered naturally. The placenta is also fairly delicate if it is complete previa (which mine was), and bleeding (due to pressure put on the placenta) can occur at any time. I was told to take it easy and that I should be very limited in what I do. No more exercise, no more physical intimacy, no more lifting children up, just rest.

At 26 weeks, I got a very bad double infection, which, when paired with the heat of Varanasi in the summer (110-115*) resulted in very painful, very real contractions. We had already been told by our medical personnel that it was advisable to go to Delhi early, so when that happened, we knew it would be better for me to be close to good medical care. I came to Delhi when I was just 27 weeks along. That meant me being away from my family for over a month. The doctor told me to be resting, and that I wasn’t to do any work at all. Some days were great-sleeping in, eating whatever I wanted (because there is so much more variety here than in our city!), watching Netflix, and reading. But some days were super lonely. Also, I had another ultrasound done, hoping the placenta had shifted, but finding out that it hadn’t. That mean that a c-section was inevitable. Also, because of how big my placenta was, they would have to do a vertical incision instead of the more-appealing horizontal incision. ALSO, they were concerned that it had imbedded itself into my uterus, which could cause heavy bleeding and need for a hysterectomy. I heard all of these things while I was away from my family, and it was one of the more difficult days of my life. I’m so thankful that a friend of mine, also staying in Delhi to birth a baby, was with me and able to encourage and support me. I went to get an MRI done to confirm whether or not the placenta had imbedded itself, and while I was in the MRI machine I had a panic attack because of all of the stress and emotions I was dealing with. The MRI results showed that my placenta had not imbedded (praise God!), but I was still a wreck.

After my family arrived in Delhi (at 31 weeks), it was great to have everyone back together again, but so exhausting. Kyle did most of the work, and the kids helped A LOT, but it was still so draining for me. It was also a worrisome time, because I feared that something would happen to me before my mother-in-law arrived, and I didn’t know what I would do with my kids. Sure enough, it did. I started bleeding, which I had been warned may happen, and headed straight to the hospital with my husband and kids. The same friend who went with me to my MRI ended up watching my kids (along with her own 5, including a 1-week old baby) for that day, and then another friend who was 37 weeks pregnant watched them the next day. I felt so terrible that my friends were taking on so much, but thankful they were there. I was in the hospital for 3 days, and the doctor said that this episode was the warning, and that next time would be much more bleeding. I was put on strict bedrest (and was bored out of my mind!).

2 weeks later, my mother-in-law arrived, and I praised God! At least that fear of what to do with kids was no longer a stressor. Annabeth’s C-section was scheduled for 5 days later, at 36 weeks gestation. At that point, the dangers of a placental abruption outweigh the dangers of the 36 week preemie, so the doctor said that is as far as we should take our pregnancy. After asking several doctors and medical professionals in the States, they agreed with this ‘course of action’ and we were at peace with the plan.

Unfortunately, things didn’t go according to that plan. On July 21, just 2 days before our scheduled C-section, we were all sitting doing our nightly Bible time. I felt 2 gushes, and didn’t know whether it was fluid or blood. I slipped away to the bathroom to find that I was gushing blood profusely. I yelled at Kyle, who came in and saw blood all over me, told Mimi to put the kids to bed, grabbed my hospital bag, and escorted me downstairs to the car. Kyle drove like a madman, driving through every red light and laying on his horn the entire time we were in the car (10-15 minutes). I called my doctor, who I’ve called many times before with no issue or delay, only to have a 4 year old answer the phone over and over. I tried to tell him to give the phone to his mom or grandma, but he just kept hanging up on me. “You’ve got to be kidding me! This can’t be happening right now!” were the only words I could find! I called the hospital and told them I was coming and bleeding a lot. The doctor called me back about 2 minutes before I reached the hospital and I filled her in. The hospital was ready for me when I got there and I went straight up to L&D. Thankfully, it was Sunday night, so there weren’t any patients in the lobby.

As soon as I got upstairs, I started bleeding even more heavily, with large pieces of placenta flowing out. I told Kyle and the nurses that I was blacking out and closed my eyes. I was also having a hard time breathing, but I think that was just from the shock of what was actually happening. A few minutes later, the anesthesiologist came in and took me to the OT for the epidural. She was so calm and kind. I am so thankful she was there. Honestly, the nurses’ faces all looked afraid, and hers was the only face that was telling me I was going to be okay.

As soon as my doctor arrived (just a few minutes later), she looked at Kyle and said, “we need to do this very quickly.” Suddenly, I was being strapped to the operating table, the curtain was pulled up so I couldn’t see, and there were 10-15 people in the room: 4 doctors, a handful of nurses, the anesthesiologist, and a man who we were told may or may not ‘get on top of me to push the baby out.’ What?!? Whatever, I totally did not care at that point. My doctor was amazing, safely delivering my sweet baby and my horrendous (and ginormous) placenta in just a few minutes. And yes, the man did get over me and push the baby out! The entire thing was totally painless, which I’m very thankful for. I even told my doctor while she was delivering that she was “doing such a good job.” The epidural brought out the cheerleader in me!

I heard my sweet baby cry, and asked Kyle what it was. He inquired of the pediatrician, who said it was a girl. They brought her over to us and I got to cuddle her next to my face for just about 30 seconds. It was so wonderful! She was okay! I was okay! Then, she was whisked away to evaluate. I didn’t see her again for 12 hours. That’s a terrible, terrible experience as a mother- to have a child taken from your womb and not have access to them for so long.

 

 

As this story is long enough already, I’ll cut down our week in the NICU to just a few sentences. Annabeth had difficulty breathing on her own, so she was put onto the CPAP for breathing assistance. She was much stronger about 3 days later, but because they had to wean her off of the CPAP and tube-feedings and make sure she successfully breathed and breastfed on her own, we ended up being in the NICU for 7 days total. It was not a great NICU experience, as we continued to have to battle nurses and security guards to spend time with our own child even when policies dictated time allowed that the nurses and guards were not allowing us to have. The upside, however, was that we made several friends with moms and dads of other preemies in the NICU. We were able to share the Hope that we have because of Christ and be an encouragement to them as they walk through their journeys in the NICU. We are still praying for some of them and their little ones, as many of them have a much longer stay than we had.

We are home now and doing so well! Annabeth loves to sleep, has hiccups often, and her siblings LOVE her! Kisses, hugs, and lots of baby-holding! She’s a wonderful addition to our family, and we are so thankful to God for her!

 

When trying to decide on names, Kyle and I had a hard time agreeing! The criterion were: a Bible name that wasn’t easily shortened that didn’t start with C, N, or R. While our family was split between Nepal and India (just before I came to Delhi), I read the story of Mary and Joseph bringing Jesus to the temple to dedicate Him. In the story, 2 older people are there waiting for the promised Savior to come. They had hope in knowing from God that the Savior would come soon. Anna had lived at the temple most of her life, and Simeon had waited eagerly for quite some time. As soon as Jesus arrived, they were both filled with joy at the sight of their Savior. I LOVE THAT! They were filled with joy because of Jesus and the hope that they had in Him. For that reason and this story, our girl name was Annabeth Joy and our boy name was Simeon Jehoshua. Annabeth means “full of grace” and Joy is self-explanatory! We added the Beth because it’s pretty, but it’s in the Bible also (part of Elizabeth, and beth means “place of,” so we could say that her name means a place full of grace.)

Thanks for reading, for praying for us during this long and difficult pregnancy, and for sharing in our happiness as we welcome Annabeth to our family! Praise be to God!

 

 

Perceptions Can Be Deceiving

Meet Pregnant Peggy. She's (mostly) happily pregnant with her 4th kid and comfortable with her growing belly.

Now meet Suck-It-In Sally. She's pregnant, but sucking in her belly, either because she doesn't like it, or because she wants people to say things like, "Oh, my goodness, you look so tiny! You'd never know you were pregnant!"

And here is Stick-It-Out Sandy. She chose to stick her belly out as far as she could so that she would look as pregnant as she possibly could. 

Okay, those of you who are thinking I've gone crazy, I'm not quite there yet... bear with me!

Looks- and perceptions- can be deceiving. I took all 3 of these pictures in the same minute of one another, because I have seen people do all of these things. And we, as observers, think differently when we see differently. "That woman must be so fit and athletic." "That woman must be really tired." "That woman must be carrying twins." 

Oftentimes, this can be just as true for our spiritual lives as it is for our physical bodies. I recently returned from a time with other like-minded believers who also live overseas. In the last 6 years of living overseas, I have developed friendships with many of these people, and I enjoy catching up with them at meetings like this one. So many times throughout the week, one is asked, "how are you doing?" or "how have things been going?" and this year, I could honestly answer that I am happy, at a good place in life, and things are going well. But, it is really easy to put on a mask and give an easy, albeit untruthful, answer. I've done it! I've gone to similar meetings when was in a TERRIBLE place. Hating marriage. Hating India. Hating feeling unsuccessful. Hating... well, let's just say that not all of my days here have been peachy! 

What I'm getting at is this. We can look at someone and think something about them. "She's doing such great work where she is at." "Her kids are so calmed and well-behaved." "She's so pretty." "Her house is always clean." But my challenge to you is to get real with her- really get in her life. My most valued friendships are with those few friends who, instead of saying "how are you?", ask me things like, "how's marriage?", "how have your quiet times been?", "how are you doing with trusting others?" They have invested enough time to know what to ask me, and they aren't afraid to do so. I LOVE IT! I had a sweet friend ask me recently what Kyle and I do together for fun, and I told her I couldn't really think of anything. Then, she told me I needed to talk to him about that, and I did because she encouraged me to! That's a true friend! I'm thankful for friends who have dug deep in my messiness to love me and help me grow closer to Jesus.

Don't assume someone is okay, even if they say there are. Get to know where they are really at, probing if needed, love them where they are, and encourage them in their walk with God. And be thankful to God when He puts others in your life who will do the same to you!

Guest Blogger: Ezekiel and the Dry Bones

I was sitting with my friend, Heather, sipping coffee in her home while my kids played in her backyard. We caught up for several hours, and during that time, she shared this story with me. I asked her if she would share it, and she was happy to oblige. Thanks, Heather!

Our church was struggling.  Leaders and members were disgruntled and leaving.  Our elders were aware of tough issues and hurt feelings, and were making long-term plans.  But long-term plans take a long time to plan and carry out.  My heart ached Sunday after Sunday, weekday after weekday, at the unmet possibilities of all the Godly people who were in our church, and of how difficult it had become to go there to worship our Lord.

One option the elders worked towards was a merge with a young, growing church which had been started a few years past out of a Bible study from our church.  Familial and spiritual relationships thrived between members of the two churches.  Reading Ezekiel 36:36-38, I began praying these verses for our church, as the verses themselves seemed to invite:

“Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the LORD; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate.  I am the LORD: I have spoken, and I will do it.  Thus says the LORD GOD; this also I will let the house of Israel ask me to do for them:  to increase their people like a flock.  Like the flock for sacrifices, like the flock at Jerusalem during her appointed feasts, so shall the waste cities be filled with flocks of people.  Then they will know that I am the LORD.”

The verses following this passage tell an amazing story of Ezekiel being taken to a burial valley, full of dry, human bones.  But God asked Him “Can these bones live?”  Unlike mine might, Ezekiel’s answer didn’t include a plan for God of HOW to raise them!  He simply answered “O Lord GOD, you know.”  Then God raised the bones and gave them life!

This seemed perfect to me!  I felt as if we were a nearly dead church, and I wanted God to bring us instantly to life as He did with the dry bones!  All He had to do was bring the other church into our midst!  Just as Jerusalem would be normal nearly all year, the three annual feasts would bring men, women, children and animals from all around the country to worship God.  The city went from normal to overflowing in only a few days!  The flocks greatly multiplied because people would bring their animals to sacrifice to God.  This is what I wanted for our church—from normal to bustling and overflowing with only a vote from the churches!  

But God had other plans.  The vote did not pass, and our churches did not merge.  Bitterness deepened.  Hopelessness appeared.  God had to remind me many, many times that He is sovereign, and in control even of church votes.  

And He continued to speak to me through Ezekiel.  I admit, it did take me a few months to return to praying from this passage.  He reminded me that when I first read the words, “This also I will let the house of Israel ask me to do for them:  to increase their people like a flock,” He had allowed me to pray for Him to increase our people like a flock.  But He hadn’t told me He’d let me choose HOW.  So I continue to pray.

Two years later, the children’s Sunday morning lesson was Ezekiel 37.  Reading and meditating on the passage for the lesson, the Holy Spirit showed me important details I had missed:  the bones revived, and came to life, but in steps!  First, Ezekiel prophesied, then the bones came together, then sinews came over the bones, then skins covered the insides.  But they were not breathing.  God and Ezekiel both spoke again before God’s breath came into the bodies and “they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.”

Amazed, I could only kneel down, cry and worship God, because I easily could see steps He had taken in our church family.  We are now united, as if the bones have come together.  He is healing our minds and hearts and spirits like the sinews.  He is setting up new church structure and methods.  He has shifted authorities in the body.  And He is even adding young, new life to our fellowship!  I look forward to worshipping Him with others again!  

Ezekiel and the skeletons continue to remind me tangibly of what God is doing spiritually and physically in our church body.  Praise to God, who continues to work in our church body, and who does not give up His work in me, either.  I hope and pray to trust Him more tomorrow and each day after, because He and His plans are trustworthy.

~Heather Neumann 

Corinth's Surgery

Of course I am biased. I am her mother. She is my first-born. But I really do think she is adorable. She is quirky, friendly, super-smart, and beautiful. Where we live, she's like a little 4-year-old movie star. People always want photos with her! I suppose a bit of my pride of being her mother came from the fact that I really thought she was a gorgeous tiny girl. Then, 1 week before her third birthday, her eyes suddenly and drastically crossed. On Monday, her eyes were normal. On Wednesday, I mentioned to my husband that something didn't look right with her eyes. And on Friday, her eyes were completely crossed. She and her dad travelled to the capital to get an evaluation of what was going on. She came home 5 days later wearing glasses. 

1 1/2 years later was last week. My sweet 4 1/2 year old had surgery on both of her eyes to correct the lazy eye. The doctor is great and the surgery went well. What I didn't know is that her lazy eye is caused by two things. First, the muscles in both eyes were too tight. The doctor loosened them and fixed that issue. The second issue is that she is extremely farsighted. A normal farsightedness (is that a word?!) for her age is up to a 3. She is a 5 on one side and a 5.5 on the other. For that reason, her eyes work so hard to compensate for the farsightedness that they cross. With glasses, this issue will also be fixed.

Please pray for Corinth. She's a super awesome girl. She doesn't think anything of wearing glasses. However, people are sometimes very unkind. Especially where we live, people often ask why she has glasses, what's wrong with her eyes, what happened, etc. I know they don't mean any harm, but I never want Corinth to feel sad. I still think she is absolutely beautiful! God is good. He makes different people in different ways, and I want to value and celebrate the ways God has made Corinth unique. Love on her, pray for her, and say hi next time you see her!

 

The 50 States of 'Murica

Well, my goal was to do a blog a week. So, now that it's February, I guess I should get started with the year! 😛

 

Before we headed back to America, I wrote the tourism office of all of the 50 states of America, explaining that we live abroad and I was hoping to teach my kids a bit about America while we were stateside, and would love any fun stuff they could send us. We got lots of great responses. I also let them know that I'd write about what they sent, so here we go!

 

P.S. Get excited about a guest blogger coming soon! (I'm excited!)

 

All of these states sent us maps, magazines of tourist destinations, and/or brochures about state parks:

 

• Arkansas
• California
• Colorado
• Delaware
• Kansas
• Kentucky
• Maine
• Maryland
• Mississippi
• Missouri
• Nebraska
• Nevada
• New York
• North Dakota
• Oklahoma
• Pennsylvania
• South Dakota
• Utah
• Virginia
• Wisconsin
• Wyoming

On top of that, these awesome states went above and beyond with some extra goodies! (Starting top left in the picture)

 

• Kansas- Good job Sunflower state! Fun things for my kiddos, including a series of 'Fun Facts' pamphlets, Fun Folder, 2 coloring books with crayons, and a package of sunflower seeds.
• Delaware- Someone put extra effort into printing out the kid-friendly info for their state and put it into a fun packet for easy-reading.
• New York- Activity Book, Trivia Book, bumper sticker, and 2 I<3NY buttons. Score!!!
• North Dakota- Fun poster that looks like a license plate.
• Mississippi- Postcards. Corinth and Noah will love sending these to friends!
• Wyoming- Bookmarks from a bookmark program their state did- cute!
• Maryland- A series of pamphlets on major historical events that happened in Maryland. Nicely done.
• Missouri- More postcards they'll enjoy sending!
• Wyoming- Fun, retro-style bumper stickers (one of which my husband claimed and put on his journal before the kids even got to see the goods).
• Nebraska- Another fun postcard!

Last, but opposite of least, is the great state of my birthplace. And not just because it is my birthplace, but because they are genuinely awesome people (every citizen, actually!). Way to go

 

OKLAHOMA!!!

 

(Boomer!) Not only does Oklahoma obviously have awesome graphic designers, but they sent a bajillion pamphlets for fun stuff to do in Oklahoma! You should go, and say hi to all of my extended family while you're there!

 

 

Thank you to all of the states who participated. Go do fun things wherever you live- there is LOTS of world to see! Enjoy!