Godwins In Media

Not Home for Christmas

2011-12-03T15:10:00.000Z

started decorating for Christmas today. Took my time and enjoyed the part I did instead of making it into a marathon that I'm eventually tired of and just want to be over. I was digging in my giant red and green Rubbermaid bin and asked myself the question, "Why?"

I thought of some people I'd like to have come over in a couple weeks. So one answer is I want it to be all Christmas-y and cozy. I probably deep down in my heart want someone to say, "Oh this is nice." But is this why?

I'm looking harder at Christmas as a way of easing my angst over not being home for Christmas. When we do go, it's action and stress packed, so one good thing is a more leisurely Christmas this year.

Madrid has lots of light displays in shopping districts and some kind of nativity scene tour, so there are some delightful things I'm looking forward to in Spain. So none of my reflection is really negative but it is a different year this time. I want to find ways to embrace what it will be and not give too much attention to what I'm missing to the point of not enjoying what I've got.

In my unpacking of Christmas memories in the form of cards, ornaments, and garland, I realized too there's the God side of the season. It's easy to get caught up in the commercial side, decorating, shopping and forget the reason we do it all is that we are precious to God and he sent Christ as a way of showing us.

Learning to communicate

2011-10-28T09:54:00.003+01:00

In September we did a one month intensive Spanish language school. It was meant to be a refresher course and hopefully an advancement. The refresher aspect of it ended after about a week when it went into full speed ahead new information -- for us. On the other hand, we were in class with 20 year olds from China, South Korea, Japan and the USA who had been having whole semesters of this same information in universities around the world. Review for them - brand new cram in your head over night and be ready to move on tomorrow for us!

Part of the class too was an introduction to Spanish culture which for us was more often review but for some of the foreign students was very strange and new indeed. Our Asian friends had generally not heard of Jesus, Mary and Joseph and the whole Christian thing confused to them. The Spanish seem to take a certain level of Catholic Christianity for granted and don't even see it as religious. For instance, they say, "Jesus" when you sneeze here instead of bless you. We answered some interesting and basic questions for our new young friends.

It's interesting what is normal and what isn't and what it costs to get it in your head. As we added new Spanish information into our brains, we felt our old ways of communicating actually breaking down rather than advancing. It seems that in the scope of language you have to damage it and rebuild it to progress. We are still putting the pieces back together and plan to take some additional conversational classes to do that.

It makes me wonder when we introduce new ideas of the Gospel into cultures via our videos if there is first a disconnect to the old ways of thinking before the process of acceptance of the new ideas. Are we stretching them as hard as we've been stretched lately? It challenges me to make sure the message we send is presenting Christ and his love clearly.

You can Never Go Home

2011-08-21T15:34:00.003+01:00

When we became missionaries in 2003, we made the decision to rent out our home. It was the first home we'd owned as a married couple and it was tiny. But we'd made it our own. When we were advised to keep it as rental property, I made my peace with the fact that 1. I may never live there again and 2. if I do, it won't be the same. Renters won't care for it the way we did and even if they were careful it will have years more of daily wear and tear on it.

When we came back to Spain this time, we were thinking we'd go into the same house we lived in last term but at the last minute the landlord backed out. So now we are adjusting to a new place to call home. We still have one light fixture to install but other than that it's done. It's feeling like home little by little with all that we've done.

When you grow up and move away from your parent's home, you can go back and visit or even stay for an extended time, but it doesn't feel the same. The thing is you have changed in your absence at college, or with roommates, or getting married. Mom and Dad have moved on in their habits too. It's just not the blissfully ignorant home of childhood when you aren't even aware of the sensation.

On arriving at our Spanish "home" church, we discovered many things had moved on and changed in our absence. Different people on the worship team, a new team of lead pastors -2 we hadn't met previously, and of course a bunch of new people. Nothing bad, but not exactly the same. It's up to us to adapt to our new home again and some days that's just pure work.

We heard recently that our home church in the USA is also going through change. They got a new pastor a few months before we left -- after 29 years of the same one. New people want to do new stuff and often we need to be pried out of old ruts we're in but that doesn't make change any easier. I remember when I was in the 4th grade this same church presented a master plan of expansion. The proposal at that moment in time was just to add a gym, kitchen, and fellowship space, but the master plan included turning the sanctuary to a kids area and tearing down the parsonage to build a bigger sanctuary. I remember being disturbed by that idea in 4th grade and thinking I didn't want them to tear things up. I was a big benefactor of that gym they built through my high school years and even as recently as a Christmas party last year. Now, the sanctuary my parents were married in, my grandpa helped build, I was married in, is giving way, being torn up for a new children's wing. It won't be the same when I go back -- they are moving on and I will have to adapt. My quiet place in a pew on a quiet Sunday night will be no more. You can't go home, but that's part of learning as believers that our permanent home is with Christ in heaven. I've had to learn that as an adult, as a missionary, and now as fellow believer. My comfort and security isn't dependent on a place, it's dependent on Christ.

Late Night Party at the Neighbors - Spain Normal!

2011-07-04T08:33:00.002+01:00

Community

2011-06-29T09:11:00.002+01:00

Over the last year, I've heard a lot about community. The church has to exist in community - we support one another in crisis, at least we mean to, and we sharpen one another in conflict, the old iron sharpens iron thing. I heard of a group that are trying to take that further and live in the same neighborhood with their small group and share living in a more daily way. Even in the secular world you hear a lot about community service or doing work for charitable and rescue operations.

Well, we have been in our town home in a three street development on the edge of a village near our office for almost four weeks now. The "backyards" all are postage stamp terraces that touch one another and the windows of our homes look out over all the yards and directly to the other houses across the yard. When you sit on the patio, you can hear conversation going on all around. Yesterday when I was upstairs I could hear a child playing a flute or recorder somewhere. All the sounds and noises seem to carry through the homes and the, currently, open windows.

So far the neighbors have been very stand offish which is very different from our last experience here in Spain. They seem to have some strong reservations about us, the new neighbors, but when I see how overlapped they are in their living I can understand that it will take some proving ourselves to be accepted into the "community." It will be interesting to see if we can earn our place on the block.

Day 2 Term 2 House Hunters International

2011-05-05T17:14:00.002+01:00

Didn't sleep well from jetlag last night which made the morning's news harder to take in. The house we had arranged to live in, the same one from our last 4 years in Spain, is gone. Well, not gone. Unavailable to us.

Our former landlord had emailed IMM a few weeks ago offering us the house again for a much reduced price. Silvia our legal representative for all things in Spain and an extrordinarily hard worker, negotiated the price even lower. It was all so easy. We wouldn't have to imagine where things went or if they would fit. Just slip everything back in place and ba-da-boom we are back in business. We were to give him the deposit money this afternoon.

This morning Senor Landlord called Silvia and said he and his wife have been fighting with his mother in law who lives with them and is aged and needs nursing care. So they are going to move into the rental house and let mama have the apartment.

So we spent a few hours looking at housing options online and made a couple appointments to view houses/duplexes/townhomes. I'm not really worried. With the economic crisis in Spain, the area near the offices of IMM has decreased in price and it will work out fine. It's the oddity of going from a done deal that did not require thought to suddenly having to figure out what you want, need, can afford, what's practical and how far away should we go before it's impractical.

House one, strike one.

No pressure but we are having that training event in about 15 days and the bed we are sleeping in now is needed for others coming in for the event! It will all work out. It's a good example of the need for flexibility when living in a foreign environment.

Good things that have happened

2011-04-26T18:06:00.002+01:00

Nos vamos. We're going! Leaving KC this weekend for a new adventure of 4 years in Spain.
While it has been one of our hardest years doing fund raising, some really nice things have happened.

Last we knew our budget was at 99.7% Yippee. Yeah God!

Out of 63 weeks of traveling, mostly on the weekends, I think we only had to pay for four hotels. Churches and individuals have taken wonderful care of us.

It is so interesting to go all over the country and meet believers in every walk of life. We have friends everywhere now, it seems.

We had a free car from family and it only broke down a couple times in all the thousands of miles traveled and only a minor accident.

We had lots of free furniture, accessories, etc. that we were able to give away and bless others in the end.

Many people have pledged funds the coming four years to help us spread the Gospel. Amazing!

I bet we've had 100 meals on someone else's dime. Who are we to receive sooo much? (Who are we to EAT so much!?)

It has been a blessing to be home for 16 months.

2011-04-16T02:11:00.002+01:00

We are headed back to Spain on May 2. Everyone keeps saying, "Are you excited?" I don't have a good answer for that. I have flashes of excitement when I think of working on a script for the Women of the Bible project or helping with another project. Excitement at the prospect of doing what it is I'm training in and skilled at doing.

On the other hand, it is excruciating to say goodbye to friends and family who have gotten accustomed to having us around again after 16 months in the USA. It's hard to rip out those roots again and yet I feel no hesitation about the calling -- that it IS from God, and it is worth the effort to let people know they are loved by God. To share that wonderful news in 27 languages has value well beyond me.

I keep saying if I could wave a magic wand and just be in a house in Spain with all my things put away, that would be wonderful. Instead I'm giving away furniture that was given to me 16 months ago. I'm packing up the few things to keep here in storage and deciding what needs to go back to Spain in shipping. After months of travel and speaking, we are exhausted and it's hard to summon the energy for all these decisions and tasks.

While we work on all these mundain tasks, we have the hovering cloud of an incomplete budget. We know that God is our provider andd He has absolutely done amazing things in providing for us. We are so thankful for the wonderful generous people who are on our team of support already -- it's so humbling. We still have the awareness of what is still required of us and no idea how to finish it.

These are the days we count the cost and even though it is hard we see the value in going. Who are we to get to be part of God's plan to share His love with millions of people in countries all around the world. Incredible and maybe sometimes, I do get excited.

Battle ship vs cruise ship

2010-12-16T19:45:00.001Z

I heard someone use the phrase this year about the church universal - do you treat it as a cruise ship or a battle ship? Are you a visitor who wants to be entertained and catered to? Or do you see us in a battle together and we all have a role to fulfill to survive?

After circulating in a variety of churches all over the country throughout 2010, we've made some interesting speculations. We had a sense and were told by many that the church had changed during our almost 5 year absence. That was definitely true. We also talk to pastors all over who are searching right now. It's like something is off keel but no one is quite sure what.

One observation we feel is confirmed by pastors is that the church in general has become even more of a spectator event than it was before we left. I'd always heard the statistic that it is 20 percent, or pick a number but a small one, of church goers that do the work (teach, clean, nursery etc). It seems there is much more of a sense of: what can you (the church) do for me?

In one sense, church does do something for us. Hopefully, we learn more and are fed more about God and grow closer to him. The church needs to be directing the traffic in our lives toward more of Christ and not less. But in the same measure while works do not save us or get us into heaven, I wonder if we are participants or merely spectators.

God does not require any sort of list of fulfillments to accept us or validate our Christianity. I'm thinking of this more from the angle of a community of Christ perspective. We are called to be the "body of Christ" that is what the church is. We all have different roles and abilities and we use them uniquely to help propel ourselves and others toward Christ and introduce Christ to those who don't know him. At least in theory.

So is our cultures' new slow leaning toward entertainment driven lives harming our perspective of the church? Or harming the way church functions? If the staff members of the church, use all their energy just barely keeping the normal functionality going, when will they be able to dream to take the church deeper, or expand the church through outreach?

I don't have any answers, nor do I believe my opinions here are definitive. I know I've been guilty of being a spectator from time to time, but I want who I am and how my church is to be drawing people to Christ, not simply entertainment that releases some measure of guilt in my week.

What's a missionary?

2010-11-05T01:04:00.001Z

When I was a kid, in the (ahem) 70s, it was getting to the end of a legalistic battle of generations. The culture of rules defining the evidence of your faith was struggling. Even though my family wasn't big on the rule scene, it permeated the landscape and my grandparents were definitely in the old school camp.

So slacks or jeans at church were bad for women. Missing church was bad. The judge was still out on pierced ears. Movie theaters could keep you from the rapture (not in my family but in my friend's). Rock music was blasted by many as of the devil though some would tolerate "Christian" rock. Drinking and smoking were straight tracks to...well you get the idea.

So somewhere in all of that without really meaning for it to happen a subliminal idea of "holiness" lodged in my mind. So as a (ahem) 30 something person God started dealing with to become a missionary, I felt at a distinct disadvantage. I am not all these "holiness" things that my mind would tell me I must be to fit the "missionary" mold.

I mean "real" missionaries would never watch movies or listen to *gulp* rock music. Right? Or prefer jeans over skirts and high heels? Or like reading secular novels?

It seems the deeper I go with God, the more I realize that by some remarkable miracle God uses damaged people. Even more amazing, He redeems us bit by bit from our brokenness and occasionally we do something good for his kingdom with a vast amount of His mercy and help. But that's the point, He did the miracle and we are evidence of His love.

When? American Culture Shock

2010-10-12T20:31:00.000+01:00

I've never been a morning person. That is my first confession. I have a good time if I get up and join along a party going somewhere early on a Saturday (a trip to the lake), but there is usually a soul searching moment before I agree wondering if I really want to or if it is worth it. In Spain, we meet at 8:30am for a trip to the mountains. Still feels early.

In Spain, things usually start later. Our church started at 11:30 (out at 2pm). The church we went to in language school only had evening church at 6pm. No one ever wants to meet for breakfast because they don't do that and there's no where to go eat breakfast. Events in general don't start exactly on time.

On the other hand, they think nothing of meeting at 9 or 10pm for dinner and then going out after that. I did go to hear my brother play in a band recently leaving the house at 9pm and that didn't cross my mind at all as unusual at all.

I was recently at an American event that started at 8:30am. Someone made the comment about starting on time and getting "up and running" in the morning and how satisfying those two things are.

I recognized that my own personality of late rising and the combo of being in Spain where things aren't started on time generally makes me less and less comfortable with strong punctuality and early meetings. It was a very North American moment. On the other hand, I'm a grown up and know when I'm home I need to get with the US system. It's just funny to find yourself outside your cultural norm.

Itinerating Introvert

2010-09-22T00:19:00.002+01:00

I got tagged as “special” in 6th grade by the school psychologist for being able to put together a puzzle faster than any student in the district (16 seconds!) But my mother revealed to me later in life that she had asked that same psychologist why I was so quiet and “unexpressive”. Thankfully, She was told that I had “love bubbling up all inside me.”

You see, I was born with a gifting of spatial skills and a love of discovering new colors and patterns, but had the social skills of a marsupial.

As an itinerating missionary with the Assemblies of God, I have taken my inner-marsupial on the road. What better way to stretch my shy, introverted self, than to pour out my inner passions and convictions to a hundred strangers once or twice a week? That “bubbling fountain” has indeed continued to grow under God’s nurturing hand, but getting that fountain to spill out of my big shy eyes and sensitive ears is kinda’ tough some days. I’ve been known to wave my long-fingered, big-knuckled hands to express myself instead of my squeaky mouth.

My wife and I even have a private hand signal that I flash at her when we’re alone, in order for her to know if I heard what she just said, or if I’m in a bad mood, or if I’m in a good mood. (She once thought I was in a bad mood for six months, but I was only trying to see out from under the long hair I had at that time.)

In fact, there have been many times when Denise (a beautiful and amazing social butterfly) has carried the conversations with Pastors after we’ve sit down for a cup of coffee post-service. Many times I have unknowingly participated in the conversation only behind my eyes, and have suddenly realized that that awkward silence at our table was a group signal that I could contribute by adding something verbally to the mix. So I keep a mental list of short, interesting stories, or funny occurrences about life on the mission field. But there are still many moments when I’ve lost even these simple social skills and my smile seems made of plaster.

In the middle of this second cycle of itineration, I’m beginning to feel that all-familiar emotional exhaustion. My heart and my desire to reach people with the love of Jesus grows at an amazing rate as I share the vision with many dear souls. My passion grows deep and the call I feel becomes stronger and more awesome in its single-mindedness. But my restful days are more of an “unraveling” than an “unwinding.” I tend to run for the dark and emerge many hours later as one of them silent big-eyed, massive-eared marsupials that slowly munch June bugs under the quiet stars.

I was born into a Pentecostal Holiness tradition. My grandmother frequently burst out of her pew and started shouting a song during the Pastor’s preaching, while the men would start running up and down the aisles, and the drummer would start pounding a rousing beat loud enough to bring the roof down. Being a quiet kid, I was either sitting on the back pew drawing crude depictions of World War Two with a stubby pencil, or I was flipping through the hymnal trying to find the song with the earliest composition date (usually in Bold next to the title, or in the tiny text beneath the song itself.) So I coped in my own way.

As an adult, I have since become accustomed to holding hands with strangers while the pastor “does something a little different” to close a service, or breaking up into a prayer circle and hurriedly trying to put into a few brief words my latest and greatest emotional battle so we can take turns praying out loud with our heads close together. (I like your cologne!)

I’ve also learned that I can quietly feel God’s peaceful restoring hand when I become confused as to why I can’t engage or keep up with the fervent worship around me.

But somehow, when I step to the pulpit in big churches or small churches (in as many states and districts that I can sneak into) the missionary message we strive to share is understood. My heart is heard because I’m weak and incapable. My vulnerability empowers those who share my weakness to step up with courage, and calls others to join our media missions team in proclaiming with a steadfast and mighty voice the Love of the risen Savior all over the globe.

And that weakness that haunts our emotions and leaves us feeling incapable and poured-out on Monday mornings... that just keeps us from relying on our own power. Which, my timid marsupial brothers and sisters, is Biblical.

A day in the life

2010-08-17T04:05:00.000+01:00

Backstory: For six months, I worked on contacting our broadcast partners and others who had been interested in doing one of our Bible stories video projects in another language to arrange a foreign language shoot for the Go Borderless event. After many disappointments and what seemed to be spiritual opposition, I discovered that two guys were coming from Bangladesh to the Go Borderless 10 day training event. We exchanged the script and started planning for them to stay an extra week for the editing process etc. I was so relieved to finally have something locked down and something that would touch so many lives. I was to direct the shoot so I had been out scouting locations, the direction of the sun at various times of day, etc. We would take half the team and shoot half of the man on cameras segments one day and the following day finish them with the other half of the team. Everyone would experience a field shoot and at the same time we'd have another product done in another language. So finally it was all coming together.

Then two weeks before the shoot, we got word that the Spanish embassy had denied the Bengali men's visas to attend Go Borderless. We sent appeals called, faxed. The embassy wouldn't budget. Now with only two weeks to go I was starting over.

The first thing I was sure about was it had to be someone local - we couldn't ask anyone to fly in at the last minute. So I called one of the Christian production houses that also does a drug rehab ministry that is based in Spain. In my unpretty Spanish and his bumpy English, Dani and I talked. He did have someone who could do the man on camera parts. He was busy that day and said send him an email. I had our resident organizer, Spanish speaker, and lawyer - Silvia verify with him. Yes, yes, everything was fine, but he was always too busy to talk it through.

The day of the shoot: I'm organizing the team of Go Borderless volunteers, the equipment is getting loaded in the Speed the Light van for transport to an old village nearby. A man named Javi shows up dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. I start putting make up on him in preparation to go to our location. We are talking, in Spanish, I'm explaining what the day will involve. He thinks it's weird I'm putting make up on him. I try to say we always do this for talent. After we get him done, he is on the phone. I thought he was dressed casually but Dani would be using this for broadcast so I assumed he sent Javi with the casual look on purpose. Javi has told me he is usually a camera man.

We load up and get ready to leave and Javi is still on the phone. We get there and start setting up the equipment on our first of four locations for the day. We are ready to start shooting and I finally understand Javi. He is not a talent/on camera person. He has been on the phone trying to get his boss to send out David who usually does this kind of thing. No wonder Javi thought it was weird I was putting makeup on a camera man.

But we need to start shooting. We are all set up, on location, ready. So I make Javi do the first take. I don't know if David is going to show up ever much less now. After one take, we have to reset some lights and teleprompter things and a car screeches up near us. A man, David, in a suit jumps out. This is the guy. Somewhere we miscommunicated with Dani or he did with someone else. So I'm in the middle of the street in this village putting make up on David (Thankfully, we'd brought it with us!)

David was very good at the man on camera talent and the shoot went really well. Until location #3. A week previously I'd checked this location. Silvia had filed a permit with the town to shoot. Suddenly, the day we need to shoot, they are loudly putting metal scaffolding up in front of the old cathedral. I adjust the shoot plan and we squeeze a shot in that doesn't include scaffolding. AND we do it while the scaffolding men are at lunch - or we would have had no audio whatsoever.

It was a crazy day. I've never had talent change midstream like this. The Spanish version of Path of Jesus was completed and used by the local broadcaster here in Spain who also has stations in South America. In addition, it is being shared with Assemblies of God churches in Spain and that is just the beginning.

Fads or Phases?

2010-05-26T23:28:00.003+01:00

As many of you know, I am deeply moved by the suffering of women caught in human trafficking or living in societies that marginalize women. We are beginning to see a lot on news casts, from non-profits, and religious organizations with these themes. CNN Video and article Iranian women in jeopardy

I am moved to the point of it impacting my life and what I strive to do, but I remember other times when the church or society has gotten behind things and then, well, lost interest. It's not that the issue goes away or is miraculously cured, but I wonder if it is that we wear out our collective consciousness on a certain theme or subject. Am I wrong? Can you see this?

In the 1980s, as a teenager the issue was abortion. Obviously a painful topic for those who have experienced and a sensitive one for those against it. There were conferences and marches and legislation limiting who could get what, where, and where the protesters could stand and so on.

AIDS also arose a bit later in the 80s and through the 90s we heard much about it. Movie stars took up the cause and did fund raisers and raised awareness. Africa has suffered hugely under this burdensome disease. Still no cure, medications to help things, but are we still deeply embedded with the message?

I am not saying, please don't get me wrong, that these example issues are not still important they are. But that's my point, we don't shout as loud as we once did. I'm already concerned about the day we move on from the victims of trafficking. Not that they will all be freed but our consciousness will be called away.

Am I imagining these "fads" of interest or is this real?

Ring of Fire

2010-05-12T16:43:00.001+01:00

A couple weeks ago, I got to witness the spectacular prairie fires of the Flint Hills. During the day, these were marked by giant plumes of smoke billowing in the distance and then as we drew nearer we would see pockets of fire gnawing it's way across cattle country in thin lines. But then we saw them at night. Incredible - one of the new wonders of the world in my opinion. I'm so glad we saw them.

It was other worldly and surreal. Rings of orange fire burning on a totally black background and gray smoke differentiating the sky. The fire burns in small lines and uses up the dried winter wisps of prairie grass. It isn't a raging fire but pockets, lines, and rings. When it meets a damp spot or a gulley, it just dies out.

We read at the truck stop that the fires are set and also occur naturally as lightening strikes with the spring storms. Also the Native American's used to set the fires to have better grazing lands that would attract buffalo herds.

It also said that the fires are good for the vegatation. Apparently a variety of grasses and wildflowers are rooted 10-15 feet deep in the rolling hills and without the fires, the full scope of vegatation won't happen. A couple weeks later driving through the same section, it was already getting green and the parts that had not burned were still a tangle of brown winter grass.

I was thinking how as people it is so hard to change. We don't want the challenges and the suffering that life brings. I was thinking about the economic fire that is burning in the world today. What if we need the surface scorched off in a brief prairie fire in order to let the good, deeper things emerge? Will we know what is important and what our priorities are because we've had to go through this economic fire? God can use the scorched earth of these hard times to bring out the better and deeper things in us. Something beautiful, full, rich and green. If only I can see past the fire, to the wildflowers and bounty beyond.

Peek a boo

2010-03-05T21:02:00.001Z

A large part of our fundraising endeavor means going to different locations to speak several times a week. Most of these so far have been small town churches. I've been thinking about that network program where they pick a place on the map and randomly choose some one and tell their story. We get to peek inside the lives of small town churches, pastors, and individuals all the time. It could totally be a documentary or a sociology project to go to so many different places and experience so many micro-cultures.

I love the chatting that goes on in the backrooms and entries of the churches. It's amazing to hear stories from World War II vets who have never been back to Europe. To look at pictures of daughters away at college studying media. To hear of a small church of older ladies that bakes cookies so the community will know they care. I enjoy the after glows and the kind heartedness of people who tell me about somewhere they've been or always wanted to go. Watching little kids fascinated by the Chinese speaking puppets on our table dvd presentation. I love the guys wearing western wear or old tattoos that obviously hold a story that's not going to be told.

I hope I am not just a voyer on these people's lives but also a sharerer in the experiment by letting them glimpse inside my life of living in Spain, and the oddity of our fund raising life. Obviously I can't totally whine and complain to these dear people about my every frustration, but hopefully as I peek in their worlds' I give a glimpse into mine as well.

I'm damaging my calm

2010-02-17T22:58:00.000Z

I read once in a secular self help book that even if you were a complete invalid, unable to move in your bed that you would have value. I thought that was a beautiful thought and expanded the idea to realize that we don't have to do or be doing for God to love and value us. While I believe absolutely in my mind that this is true, I can't seem to translate that down into my behavior.

Right now we are in a painful process trying to raise funds for our missionary endeavors. It's not a good economy. Churches aren't exactly having an easy time. People have cut back on giving as something they can cut. It's just a fact right now. We leave messages for 20-30 pastors a week and hear back from only a few. I understand, I wouldn't want to have to keep telling people, "No, I can't help you." It's hard for them and for us.

So what's this got to do with my value? You see I believe what I wrote in the first paragraph, but there's a voice or maybe just an emotion inside me that says..."maybe if you'd called 50 pastors, you would have a result." In my emotions that translates like this, "If you did, enough, you'd have results, and you'd be a valid human being." Now I don't actually say those words to myself, but when I boil down the emotions that's what's going on in me.

I want to know God so deeply and so well that I can accept his love that isn't based on my actions, on my earning that merit, that love, that acceptance. I want to knead the bread of my soul with God's loving me. Full stop. End of Sentence. God loves even a whiny missionary like me.

I feel ignorant

2010-01-16T05:55:00.000Z

I did this for my personal blog but thought it might be fun here too.
D.

I had a moment this week that I used the word ignorant in the literal sense of the word. I was on a tech support call if that helps any. I couldn't get the new website to load and I knew that I was simply ignorant of some step in the process. (I must be missing a similar step for the printer, but I digress).

We are about to start doing public speaking each week about our lives in Spain making videos. I realized after living in Madrid the last four years people expect me to be an authority on Spanish culture, but I feel ignorant. In four years, it seems I've barely scratched the surface and now I must speak for an entire country.

It's not that I didn't gain a lot of knowledge in Spain, I did. It's just that I really only know about my own experiences. I had one culture class from a real Spaniard but that was 3 days about five years ago. I knew and interacted with a few Spaniards but my daily life was with missionaries and other immigrants.

My only real Spanish friends were from church and there again most of the people sustaining the churches we attended were not from Spain. Romanians and South Americans seem to keep the church alive. I know compared to the random person on the street I do know a lot about Spain, but I don't feel an authority on a country so diverse. Each region has its quirks and laws and in some cases language.

Now don't get me wrong, it's a blast to get to talk about it, but I feel sheepish speaking for an entire people group with my limited experiences. Most people are only interested in about 15 minutes worth of conversation about my life in Spain, sometimes only five minutes. So traveling around and visiting to do our fund raising is a fun opportunity to blabber on and on about what I do THINK about Spain or tell my personal experiences. Hopefully a year from now I haven't left a lot of people thinking the wrong things about my other home.

Ready or not here I come.

Fall 2009

2010-01-08T21:08:00.010Z

We are busy in the throws of trying to edit the Ruth pilot project of Women of the Bible, do special effects on the Four Gospels, ship our dog to the US before temperatures get too cold, pack our house, schedule church services for 2010. Just a tad bit busy these days! Here are some more pictures of what has been going on with the Ruth project.

Kerry takes a break on the Boaz' house set which he designed and created.

Denise getting the wigs together for the shoot.

Doing make up and hair.

Behind the scenes on the Boaz set.

Actresses Betsaida and Irene played Naomi and Ruth.

Clarisse our intern from France has been a huge help on the project.

The vegetable stand for the Bethlehem market.

We aged our new boss already. Thanks for being in costume, Jerry!

Crystal - one of our editors, put into costume too.

Denise consults with audio.

Practicing the shot.

Allergies! We encouraged masks for the scenes where we filled the studio with real barley hay.

Harvesting scene with real barley cuttings and hay.

Go Borderless

2009-05-21T12:22:00.002+01:00

At IMM, we invited students to come participate in a week of media training, creating videos, and exploring the idea of media missions. We invited them to Go Borderless - as media knows no boundaries in reaching the world. It can go where we cannot.

Much to our surprise and not our own planning, we've ended up with people from 5 countries. God has moved and shown us the desire and need for young people to engage the world using media and their desire to be part of the Kingdom of God.

It's very exciting to see the enthusiasm and intensity of our visitors. We can learn from one another and expand the reach of God's love with media.

We will shoot a scene for the book of Mark which is part of our current project of the Four Gospels. We will shoot a Spanish version of The Path of Jesus and of course try to share the media knowledge we have in house here at IMM.

Pray for us to be clear communicators and to sustain our energy for a really full and busy week. Pray that God speaks to our Go Borderless attendees about what He wants to do with them.

Fall of 2008

2009-02-19T17:26:00.004Z

On set with Rahab volunteers and producers.

On location in a barley field, doing a scene of Ruth and Boaz.

Buddy Barrel shoot.

Stories from Communism

2008-10-10T11:14:00.001+01:00

We went to Romania for a Christian Visual Media conference along with about 90 people from around Europe. I knew that there was persecution under communism but we saw some videos and heard some first hand stories that were amazing.

Several of the media people shared documentaries about persecution under communism that were really severe. They took believers and intellectuals and tortured them in an experiment to turn them into the perfect communists. It was psychological as well as physical. Part way through the experiment they told people if they would administer the torture to fellow prisoners they would be released, so some turned on the others in desperation.

While the videos were shocking, touring a local Timisoara Revolution museum we discovered some information that I found a total surprise. They feel like they have had a 20 year revolution that is still continuing because in 1989 they over thru Chachesku, the brutal communist dictator, but they were not able to get rid of all his croneys and they are still in power in various parties today. In the chaos at the time, the Chacheskus were killed with a perfunctory trial. No one argues they weren't guilty but they weren't allowed to live and point out their cohorts. The corruption continues deeply and the people are hoping that the attempt to join the EU helps. They have more physical freedom but still feel they are taken advantage of by the government authorities. (In a way, aren't we all?)

The most interesting testimony I heard was from a woman who is now a Christian. She was not a believer before the revolution and had no idea of God. She said it was depressing because in the communist system your life was spelled out for you. Where you lived or were born dictated what school you went to. Your marks dictated whether you would go to a trade or to a university. Your job was given to you and that was it until you died. They weren't allowed to travel; they could have no aspirations of a different job or a business of their own. Food was rationed tightly and there was no variation. You had children and they did the same thing.

After the revolution, her husband met a missionary and was saved. For one year she resisted as her children accepted the Lord and her husband kept trying to convince her. She finally said in her heart not outloud, God if you are real and want me to believe all this send someone to me. That night two missionaries who did not know them stopped by because someone from another country had asked them to drop off a package. It was dark and the streets weren't marked and it was a miracle that the men had found their home. The one man spoke French which she knew from school and spoke to her. She just started crying because she knew God had sent this man and that God was real.

Today she and her husband are running a 24 hour television station reaching Romania and southeastern Europe for Christ and (!) using our videos!

Worldview Devo

2008-09-01T21:00:00.002+01:00

This is an email devotional I get and this one seemed to really fit for us. Hope you like it too.
D.

http://www.aonotes.com/2008/09/01/world-view/
The Korean man and his wife had studied in America. They were young, bright
and energetic. They could be climbing the ladder of professional advancement
and "the good life".

Instead, they had made the conscious choice to live and work in a developing
country in west-central Asia. Why would they do that?

The man explained to me that they chose that career so they could take the good
news of Christ's love to people who have not had much opportunity to hear it.

Over breakfast that morning we talked about the interrelated traps of busyness
and focus on wealth accumulation that choke spiritual growth. (Note: These
issues face followers of Jesus in both develop_ing_ and develop_ed_
countries.)

I asked him how people -- especially in the west where I live -- could avoid
these temptations. His answer was simple, yet profound:

"Study the Bible to get a Christian world view. Learn what
God's purpose is in the world, and become a part of it."

Coffee/tea thought:
"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of those who
bring good news, who proclaim peace, who bring good tidings,
who proclaim salvation." Isaiah 52.7 NIV
John

Chinese Version: World View

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Huh?

2008-08-08T21:02:00.001+01:00

A couple weeks ago I was going down our front stairs toward our gate and the neighbor's dog went zooming past. Luna is a chocolate lab and every night they let her out of the yard and she shoots like a bullet down the street and out into the wilderness behind our homes. Dogs are always so delighted with things in life and I wanted to express this to my neighbor who was following Luna at a more leisurely pace.

So I open my gate and say, "Oh dogs, they have so much..." here I want to use the word joy and I know this word because we seem to use it most weeks at church but there's a glitch in my mental chip as I search for the word.... "they have so much jewelry!" The buy gets a really odd look on his face and I say, "no, not jewelry, what's the word?" Awkward pause as I do my usual sounding out a syllable I can't find in my head. That's it, maybe. "They have so much Goya." The guy smiles. I think he gets what I"m saying and we go our separate ways on our separate walks.

About a half block later, I realize I've said the name of a famous Spanish artist - Goya. Nice. Dogs have so much Goya. What art? Paintings?

What I meant to say...was gozo -- joy! Sigh. I just keep sowing seeds of the strange American neighbors but I keep trying.

20 years

2008-05-15T21:06:00.002+01:00

Yesterday we celebrated 20 years of marriage - zoink! How is that possible? Now I have been married half my life! We have a big trip planned that we leave for next week. We tried to go this week but the office didn't want us to be gone before the dedication of the new building which is next Tuesday.

So on our anniversary - we went to work where they prayed over us since it was our anniversary. We came home and took our traditional photos on our day - we do that every year and have 20 now - except for the 13th year when the lab lost our film. It was quite chilly here yesterday. In fact this may be the first anniversary that I wore slacks for our photos usually I dress up more.

We went to a restaurant with a wood oven and a charcoal type grill. We arrived at the very Spanish time of 8:30pm. It was VERY Spanish but good quality of what we are used to here. We ordered artichokes with ham (more like prosciutto) roasted together, a salad, and cod stuffed red peppers to share. This was the appetizer and veggie courses and then Kerry got lamb chops and I got a steak both grilled. We shared a sort of cheese cake with carmel sauce. We were stuffed.

Here's what we look like after 20 years. I'm too lazy to go upstairs and scan our one year anniversary picture for you to compare!

Resurfacing

2008-01-28T15:53:00.000Z

Wow - the holidays passed and things are settling back to normal. November-December passed with 10 flights for me from Madrid, to KC and Arizona, Florida. It was good to see the grandparents after so long - 3 years. It took all my "birthday" money to do the flights but it was a good decision. Then finally back in KC with snow every 3 or 4 days and lots of fun and food with friends adn family. We felt like we had a real winter with all the winter weather. Thanks to many of you for feeding us or hanging out with us. And to family and the tax returns for funds to visit at home.

The moment I got to Spain I got sick with the flu/cold thing and only went back to work finally two weeks ago. I guess I just needed a rest and there wasn't anything pressing at work so I took the sick days without remorse. Hit the ground running with a new project, well two actually. 1. promote the Bible School here. 2. Revisit their 40 years of history. We have until the 15th to get it done so it will be really, really hectic. It's my first go as a director as well as producer for IMM, I've done it on my own but it is a good project to sink my teeth into. Kerry is doing camera and learning a new special effects program for this project and those coming down the pipe. Last week it required a quick trip (4.5 hours away) to Cordoba and Bible School.

Last week I also saw a motorcycle wreck into a car in Spanish traffic. A little scary as people were trying to put the guy in their car and drive off, but ultimately an ambulance came and the police which I was glad to see. The same night I double parked which people do here all the time but I found it nerve wracking to listen for honking in case I needed to move my car. Life is interesting -- even when you don't expect it!
D

Fall 07

2007-12-01T15:22:00.000Z

The Path of Jesus is done!

Buy it from the US distributor.

Images of Spain lately --

a bull billboard

yes, that's octopus ready to be eaten!

Our Spanish Dog - Dulcinea!

Potluck at our Church here - El Hogar Christiano.

In October a Team came from our Church in Kansas City!
Thanks Overland Park First Assembly!

The team took time out from working to watch a local bull run.

Thanksgiving en España

2007-11-22T15:18:00.000Z

It hasn't been a festive day. It started yesterday with a miscalculation, misunderstanding on the time of the driving test. The official test is Friday, not today. Thus we could not take it and then scoot on up to the Thanksgiving dinner and the required attendance retreat of missionaries. I made a bunch a phone calls and we were told rather than lose the money and opportunity of the test. So we were excused to arrive at the retreat on Friday afternoon.

This morning we woke up, greeted our house guests who were on their way to the retreat. We said our good byes and headed off to driving lesson number two. (Number one was rough.)

Outside we had a flat tire. Lovely. Oh happy day. Kerry changed it in 10 minutes flat. He was aggravated with me for not driving fast enough to get to driving school, which is ironic since he is the slower driver of the two of us. We made it on time and had driving lesson number 2. Kerry got better but somehow I can't shake my bad driving habits, especially when a Spanish man is in the passenger seat hollering at me. Sigh.

Everything was open of course and so Dar got the tire fixed, we bought a new toilet seat for the broken one in the spare batheroom. Our poor guests, we think we heard it break out from under someone. Hopefully they didn't end up in the tub or with bruises!

Since we weren't going to get Thanksgiving dinner with the missionaries, Dar was thinking an American meal like Burger King. I was thinking but hadn't yet said I was thinking nice dinner/restaurant somewhere. Fortunately we were spared that decision by our Spanish pastor's family inviting us to their house for a Spanish Thanksgiving. No, it's not a holiday here but they have an American daughter-in-law and so celebrate it. We'll be leaving in a while for the 8pm dinner.

Not the normal thanksgiving day. In spite of all of the oddity of the day, I am aware I have many blessings to count. Let's hope and pray that one of them will be passing the driving half of the drivers test tomorrow. Honestly based on the practice runs with the teacher I am not hopeful for myself. It's a combination of nerves and someone giving orders and crazy traffic all around you at the same time. I can handle just driving here; I can't handle the instructor. Vamos a ver.

Spanish Driving School

2007-11-15T15:13:00.000Z

Spanish Driving School
For about 10 days, we've been cramming for a driving test that is long over due considering we have been driving illegally for about a year or more. We took the test today and it seemed to go okay and we expect/hope to pass. We will know for sure tomorrow. Big kudos to España for letting us take it in our native language, sort of. The English translation was a little odd like maybe they used too much babelfish translating. Here's a sample of some of the questions we've been studying.

The vehicle referred to as a private car is destined...b. for services or exclusively for transport of merchandise. (not a. for the transport of people or c. both answers.)

best way to combat road hypnosis? Answer: concentrate on your driving.

Except in special situations, all road users are obliged to obey the traffic signs...c. even when they appear to contradict the rules. uh, huh.

When two signs of the same type appear to contradict each other, drivers must obey...c. the most restrictive sign. (Shouldn't you only post signs that make sense?)

A continuous white line on the road which is considerably wider than normal...a. indicates the existence of a special lane. What kind of special I ask myself? Apparently I only need to know it IS special.

Which vehicles may use a lane provided for use in the opposite direction to that which is normal in order to improve the traffic flow? Answer: Huh? What lane are we talking about????

If an unconscious person is vomiting, how should you place them? b. in the defense position.

My personal favorite: What should you do if a person is bleeding from the nose and ears after an accident? c. never tampon

What happened this Spring? (2007)

2007-11-08T14:48:00.000Z

It's been crazy the last few months. Now the shoots are over the crunch of special effects, editing, and graphics are on - with the push for a finish of The Path of Jesus this summer.

We did take time out to celebrate our 19th anniversary in May!

We can be handy to have around on a shoot day! Grip, direct, camera, costume, etc.

For Memorial day weekend, we drove north and enjoyed the rainy, foggy part of Spain - Asturias.

I forget

2007-08-14T14:06:00.000+01:00

Sometimes I forget that I’m not in Kansas anymore.

I try to normalize my life here in Spain, but an unusual event or overlooked occurrence startles me awake. I then see my grave mistake. The issue is safety – physical, emotional and spiritual. These states of being cannot be “normalized” in the world I am living in.

Here are some things that have awakened me from my slumber:

Monday I was hauling heavy cabinets up slippery marble stairs in the new building. I am wearing flip-flops and a new shirt I bought with some Christmas money. Since there is no railing yet in the stairwell, the illegal Romanian workers are smarter than me and stick to the wall as I pass on the outside. One slip and I break myself. I’m wearing nice clothes because I just came from the police station to help fill-out a robbery report for a young Maps worker who had her house broken into. She has trouble leaving the house now because she wants to protect it.

Monday night there was an attempted break-in at our office. The garage alarm went off and the garage door was jammed closed with the light on inside. Young Maps couple that lived on the top floor watched a Spanish cop chamber a round in his pistol before going in. No one was in there.

Came home after a three-hour drive on the Spanish Autopista and watched the news. Saw a story about a young lady named Monica who had been murdered while walking her two dogs in a barrio near here. She was killed by a member of another family that had been feuding with her family. The police had to beat the families off of each other with billy-clubs. Women on both sides were hysterical. Men were pounding the windows of the police vans.

Another story involved a kidnapped 13-year-old girl from a squalid gypsy camp near here. She had been taken to another gypsy shantytown and was to be married to a 15-year-old boy. The gypsies from all areas kept the news crews out but admitted that they had all gotten married when they were 14 and 15 – so "what is the big deal?" One of them had a little girl about 10 or 11 who was only wearing underpants. She started dancing a flamenco for the camera and the older ladies started clapping a beat while shouting “olay!” Great fun! The news crews are here!

I’m holding my breath at police check-points because I’m no longer a legal driver. We spent $1,200 and six weeks trying to set-up a “required” class and exam in English. The school kept changing the dates and the price and then finally cancelled because the English-speaking instructor was in the hospital. This school has a good reputation. Tell this to a cop at a road-block who can impound your car and take you to jail if he wants to.

I heard that Mother Theresa had a long “crisis of faith.” Spain is Disneyland compared to India. Many people have begun to ask questions about her. One missionary I greatly respect opined that she "was never a Christian because she could not feel the presence of God."

I remember a story recently about a young marine who won the Congressional Medal of Honor (if you win this even Generals are required to salute YOU! cool!) But he won it posthumously by doing-the-dive on a grenade and saving his buddies. I think Mother Theresa dived on a spiritual grenade from hell and the explosive burst lasted 50 years. Eventually the emotional shrapnel ripped into her spirit and she suffered a mortal wound in her soul. Who can follow the call without cost?

Maybe this is a secret, but we have an Iranian connection that is waiting to translate the videos we produced of the Path of Jesus into Farsi – to be broadcast into Iranian living-rooms. This is not the dross. This is the gold.
K.

Surviving the battle

2007-07-05T17:01:00.000+01:00

What I am learning... I'm tired. It's like putting up with 97 percent torture for 3 percent of pure gold that will go beyond anything I could create without God's help. It's funny. I remember a lot about the Army. Drill sergeants who were younger than I am now used to say things like "if you want to protect your buddy - sometimes you're gonna' pay." Wisdom. I think in this world that we have raised the bar for normal life. If it doesn't work we start looking for the coping skills to make it work...
Let's see: Maybe I can change the circumstances, but probably not... just do your best and survive. Your mission depends upon your survival.
Why do we think that Spiritual Warfare is any different? Sure, we can point at some teenager wearing a pentegram necklace and think that somehow reflects the world of spiritual warfare. I don't think so. That teenager may be hovering around our base camp but he's far away from No Man's Land. Many times a spiritual attack may feel like a sledgehammer blow from a comrade on our right. Whoa - that's not fair! Ha.
I also think it is dangerous to think that warfare does not involve sacrifice. What do you say to a missionary who retires with nothing but cancer and a few weeks to live? Not much. You just look to the fight and keep going. Run the Race! Wow, I'm borrowing Paul's words so I think I'm done for today.
Real life is hard for all of us, and I think of you when you are down and I am up. Pray for me when I am down and you think of it! That's part of how we fight this battle.
K.

3 shoots, 3 weeks

2007-03-23T18:26:00.000Z

March has been hectic. What do you say if the entire month is a lion? There is a chance it will go out in a lamb like manner. The first 11 days of the month we had house guests. They were nice and are likely coming back soon as coworkers. It just changes the rythem of your days and your habits.

While they were here we had a video shoot. This was the one indoor shoot. I arranged for the location (our church), and the 10 actors, well, volunteers, and a bunch of other details. One of my big jobs is to sort of run interferance between the techincal crew and the director/producer as well as to channel his energies where they need to be focused at a given moment. I also watch the video carefully as it records trying to catch mistakes, errors, or mismatches between shots. This has been harder for me than it used to be and I'm not sure why. Kerry had to do basically three sets for these scenes plus a fourth sudden blue screen set up outside.

Last Saturday we had the second shoot. I had scouted a location, 2 hours away. The director had never had time to see it and was going strictly on my pictures. I had coordinated with two men to use them and their horses for this scene. I was filled with nerves taking our small convoy across the highway to the countryside. The shoot turned out well, but it was hard getting everything set up for the crew with the director not having seen things before. It was a bigger challenge than some of our shoots are at the set up point. We got the shots needed though. Kerry was in costume and on horseback. His horse liked girls better than boys, so at one point I was sweet talking Morro, the horse, down the road to where we needed him to be.

One more shoot this Saturday. I've been working very hard for a couple weeks to come up with 20 fit, male volunteers to be Herodian soldiers. With about 36 hours to go I've got 17 and about 8 more possibles hanging out there still. Not to mention all the details of getting them rides and coordinated with costumes and make up. The makeup person fell and was injured after the first shoot, so we've also had to operate short handed. It's amazing what gets done when it has to and how God manages to help us through the chaos. Kerry was busy doing a gold finish on 20 sets of grieves (Herodian chin guards) today, and shields the last couple weeks, besides the special effects graphics for completed segments.

I'm exhausted and ready for this third shoot to be past. We have about a five week break then two shoots in a week, large ones. Then all the scenes for this series of video will be in the can as they say. After that it's just post production. I'll be ready for a slower pace next week that's for sure.

Spring is in the air

2007-02-28T20:45:00.000Z

Spring is popping up here - and it's just February 28. I have lived many, many years in a climate that has a much longer winter and this is a really wild sensation.

I still have all my sweaters out. Our winter was so mild there are two heavy ones I never wore. I think the winter here has the potential to be colder than it happened to be this year, but it ends much earlier that's for certain.

We get most of our rain through the winter, so the usually brown hills around us are greening up. The pansies in our yard never died during the winter so they are popping up with flowers. The early blooming trees are sprouting white and pink petals. It's hard to believe it's so early.

I feel a little guilty about enjoying this since everyone has had such a hard winter. I have to remind myself to get out and enjoy it now because it will get really, really hot later.

Another sign of spring is strawberries. My favorite fruit. Last year I missed them because I thought it was some weird hot house aberration last year when they came in February. I'm learning that things disappear after they go out of season, so you have to enjoy them while they last.

Not sure if this will show up very well, but tonight we had a brief shower and a very strong rainbow with the beginning of a double. The end of the rainbow was out in the wild lands behind our house. First on a power line poll which is kind of funny because that is a pot of gold for someone. Then the end of the rainbow moved to the rabbit warren we can see, hmmm.

The Building - Oct. 16, 2006

2007-01-25T09:45:00.000Z

As a ministry, what do you do if you were kicked out of Belgium, are renting a house for an office in Madrid, and the lease on the house is running out? You build a new building.

I spend a couple of hours everyday on this construction project. I photograph details for the overseers in the U.S., and videotape daily for use in promotional materials and historical documentation. This also involves alot of computer time manipulating images. Although this task is not one of my opportunities for stretching my creative skills, it has become an important part of my daily routine. And as a consequence, I have gotten to know the Spanish-speaking workers quite well. That is good, because this building project will continue for a year or more.

The guy drilling into the wall is George (hor-hay) who is from Ecuador. He is the yard boss and he does it all, always wearing his baseball cap backwards. He is proud to tell me that he knows people in Chicago (shee-koggo).

The materials and procedures are very unique. There is already enough concrete in the building to require a bunker-buster bomb to penetrate the foundation. I have not seen any wood. Here is a brick block with 82 holes. Copious amounts of cement bind these holes to the next block. Trapped air is further insulation against the Spanish heat.

Here is a wall. The pipes seem random. They are.

This is Eduardo drilling a meter-square hole into the floor of the old swimming pool on the property. He is very young and has a child. Eduardo and I always wave to each other in the morning.

Very often, specialilized craftsmen come in. These past two weeks have seen steelworkers preparing the skeleton of the building. They laughed when I showed up on the jobsite a week ago using a Roman helmet for a hard-hat.

Thankful days

2006-11-27T16:05:00.000Z

Thanksgiving was a big potluck affair with about 40 or so missionaries and their families. It was held at the international school lunchroom. Some people went to a lot of effort to decorate the tables in Thanksgiving festiveness. The food was traditional thanksgiving and very tasty. Much of it is hard to find here. Hard to find: sweet potatoes, whole turkey, crunchy onions for the top of green bean casserole. Non existent: cranberries, canned pumpkin, marshmellows. So a lot of imported food got eaten!

The most homesick I have ever felt was my first Thanksgiving away...in Belgium when I was 25 years old. That was a hard one. I'm glad I tried to get excited about what IS happening here rather than simply longing for what I cannot have.

Friday we had a All Spain meeting. A bit like a church board meeting but some details actually affect us personally. It was our first and interesting though lengthy. The group seems pretty amenable to one another and kept things positive. I felt good to be a part of it.

Things I'm thankful for at this season:
That we are more stable in life than a year ago.
That I didn't suffer from homesickness this holiday.
That I have ways, like this, that are affordable to keep up with friends.
That we got a dog this year.
That we have a really nice home here and our comfortable things around us.
That I can make myself understood here and generally I can understand the answers. This makes life so much less scary.
That we have a Spanish "church home" and a US one too.
That I have people in my life who sincerely care about me.
That our budget has held up and we're making it despite the dollar.
That we're coming home to visit for Christmas.

I could go on....Give me one thing you're thankful for in comments!

Normal things

2006-10-28T16:04:00.000+01:00

Yesterday I was pushing my cart through the men's silk tie section and I got tickled. I went on through shoes and out of the store realizing that it has become normal to push a grocery cart through the equivalent of Macy's or through a mall. It's normal and most the time I don't think about it.

Today it got really warm, 82 in fact and the rest the week is suppose to be in the 70s, after two weeks of cold rain. So of course we have the windows open again. I don't know if it's the rain or what, but the bugs are out in force. We have no screens on our windows. I guess you can have them custom built and a few homes do that, but most places don't have them. So bugs flying in and out of the windows is pretty normal. When it gets to dusk, we plug in these little things that look like air fresheners, they repel mosquitoes and don't smell like anything. I don't like bugs being in and out of the house but I'm used to it. This is a likely cause for why we had a bat in our bedroom one night. We forgot to plug in the bug repellent and I think he probably followed something in the window. We won't make that mistake again, hopefully.

Hola. Everyone says it. When you're out walking or a neighbor is in their yard or in stores, it's very normal to say hola and have it said to you very often. So without thinking now, I say hola when I'm out walking and I pass someone. I wonder does my hola sound normal or is it a little off, and they thing, "where is she from?"

All the tourist shops sell them, but then so do all kinds of shops. Abanicos are the pretty fans that are often a souvenir from Spain. The thing is the abanico is alive and well. In the summer, nearly every woman has one in her purse. I in fact carried one this summer. Without air conditioning, you are often in places that are stifling hot. When you hit that maximum capacity on heat, out come the fans. It's amazing the relief a little stirring of the air can bring. Lots of people use them in church too. You can spend a lot of money on hand painted ones, more suited to hanging on the wall or you can drop a Euro and have one that you don't care if you lose. It's interesting what has become normal.

Worried, Happy

2006-10-22T16:03:00.000+01:00

I've noticed the use of a couple Spanish words that are near synonyms for English words but they are used differently here. One is preocupada (preocupado if you're a boy). It looks and sounds a bit like preoccupied. This is the word for worry. I know this because I worry and I was trying to say something I was concerned about. Estoy preocupada de...whatever. I like this word for worry, because really when I'm "worried" I'm allowing myself to be preoccupied with something that most likely I cannot control or change.

Another word that I find interesting is contenta (again change the end to and o if you're male). While if you look it up you will find it is a synonym for English's content, however, the use of it here is wider than that. It is used for content, but it's also used for sort of glad or happy. This situation was good, or I got this new scarf and -- estoy contenta. I'm happy, I'm content. I like the two ideas rolled together. Paul (as in the apostle) wrote the famous line about being content in whatever state you find yourself. In English, the idea of content, which could connote just dealing with something without complaining, all the way to pleasantly at ease with the situation, with happy, I don't associate it with happy.

So "contenta" inspires me to ask what in my life can I be content with (meaning my old perception of content) and which of those things in my life could I move into the Spanish idea of being pleased or happy with it. I am absolutely not saying we have to be happy with everything in life, but maybe we just squeeze our emotions around something that we could open up and be more content and happy with if we would stretch ourselves.

Things are not perfect. But, preoccupation may be robbing me of being contenta with more aspects of my life. What about you?

No do overs

2006-09-13T21:28:00.000+01:00

In July, we were here a year. After three moves in a foreign country in different cities in just a year, we are beginning to feel settled. It's strange now, because language school seems many, many moons ago. A totally different world. The Spanish is functional now but a long ways from smooth. It's hard to move forward with it since our work environment is in English. All our outside activities involve Spanish though, that's for sure.

The move to Madrid area in February took a lot more adjusting than I expected. I figured it would just be a matter of unpacking, but we had to learn new stores, new roads, new schedules, new work world. I think now after seven months here, I can begin to feel that this is home. I'm developing an affection for our new city and learning my way around. Again, a long ways to go still.

While this has been one of the most challenging years we've experienced, we both have a certainty that this is where we are suppose to be. It's the right time and the right place. While it is good to feel that way, I don't think I'd do this year over if I was offered the chance. Too many mountains to climb. I'll just wait for the mountains that next year will bring.

Paper weights

2006-09-12T16:01:00.000+01:00

I thought paper weights were sort of goofy. You know at Christmas you see them in catalogs. Who's going to be excited about getting a big chunk of glass to sit around? I mean some of them are interesting to look at, but it's just something that sits there...until now.

Because we live and work in an environment with the windows wide open, I have come to appreciate heavy objects which can keep my papers from blowing all over the place. I never realized the practical applications paper weights could have. I suppose it comes from not having to live with the windows wide open in the office before now. On days the wind picks up, I'm scrambling for books and glasses and whatever to hold my stuff in place. Today I used a book, an actual paper weight, a pen made from silverware, a scotch tape dispenser, and a thick file folder.

I tend to work in stacks: these are done, these I'm working on, these need to go to a coworker, etc. Also at home I keep to-do things on the desk, like papers from ATMs that remind me to check the online banking. So I need lots of paperweights for summer. What an odd discovery, but please, no paperweights as gifts. I'll make do.

Our new friend

2006-08-28T20:32:00.000+01:00

We got a new dog from the Spanish Doggy Prison. There was quite a variety of dogs there. I picked the one that seemed most out of place in prison, was the youngest, and had a healthy innocence. I also opted for a female. Dulcinea fit the profile.

"Dulcinea" is a name borrowed from Don Quixote. The author of Don Quixote, Cervantes, lived in our town here 500 years ago. The name translates as "sweetness" it works with her doggy prison name "Trufa" which means chocolate truffle. HA! I like her paw coloring. I was also drawn to her hair. It is not "fur" because it feels like an old black wig that was found under an old box, or perhaps a sorority girl's "poof-doo" after too much hairspray. Endearing - what can I say?

She is a lot of fun. I look forward to seeing her and playing with her in the back yard. Plainly speaking, I need a little creature to hug and harrass. Dulcinea also growls at strangers that come to the door. Even if they are Romanian kidnappers!

K.

Sand storms and kidnappings?!

2006-07-21T14:28:00.000+01:00

Monday afternoon walking home from work, I walked through a sand storm. I didn't know there was one when I set out from the office. When I turned the corner to our neighborhood where it is open out to the fields, I was hit by a blast. A literal blast of sand and dirt. It turned dark and swirls of sand like little tornados were in the air (not strong like that but twirly shaped). I had to stop and turn my back to it for a minute. I finally put on my sunglasses, so I could see through the dust particles to walk the last two blocks home. Really weird. Apparently some climates have these regularly. We've had to dust and vacuum and mop really thoroughly.

Wednesday, we went to the mall and looked at the portable one room air conditioners - THANKS TO LIFE FUNDS! When we left, I had one of those amazed moments of realizing we'd conducted all our business in Spanish. It's a challenge mind you, but still surprising when it works.

Thursdays I work at home, usually on the website since I have the right tools at home. The last few weeks of 90s + temps I've taken advantage of Thursday mornings to get a walk in before the hot temperatures hit. This morning I did this too. I was in the neighborhood just below ours and saw a construction worker guy (they all wear blue work pants here) go calling to his girlfriend (or some girl) up the street near our neighborhood. At first I thought she forgot her keys or something. She didn't get in the car she was about to take a ride from (like a car pool pick up). They started fighting audibly.

By now, they were standing on the corner I had to walk on to get home. It was escalating and I thought I'd have to walk through some domestic violence and was wondering what to do. They were yelling in Romanian. (I know you're saying how does she know, there are a lot of Romanians here.) So I couldn't understand them.

As I approached another guy appeared and they grabbed the girl. A car pulled up and they covered her mouth and grabbed her by the arms and started dragging her, kicking, fighting and screaming to the car. By this time, I was on the same corner and only a few feet away from all of this. Standing and staring, probably with my mouth open. I was thinking I had to do something, and how on earth would I be able to explain this in Spanish because I would have to call the police if they drove off with her.

The driver of the car started saying, "No, no, no" when she started screaming. They were covering her mouth. The driver began to drive off without letting them put her in the car, at which point they let her go. She walked over to me and I said in Spanish. Come to my house. As we walked, she was visibly shaken. I asked did she know the men and she said yes. I think we were both a bit shaken, and I couldn't really make my Spanish work. She thanked me for staying and explained that she worked for a neighbor of ours whose husband is with the police. So, she rang their bell and went in their house. I went home.

Kerry and I were speculating about human trafficing, white slavery, and illegal immigration scams. They obviously thought she owed them something.

Then, we had to take back the fan we bought Wednesday because it had one wrong leg. Our Spanish wasn't up to explaining, "I will just exchange it if you can prove to me the other one has all the right parts." Finally we left with a new fan that we opened up to check parts. The clerk said to the security guard (in order for us to get out of the store), the other one had the wrong "paw", not foot. No wonder they didn't understand me. I was using the wrong word. Such is life on foreign soil - last week anyway.

D.

3700 Kilometers to Nijmegen and back

2006-06-16T16:23:00.000+01:00

The IMM crew just returned from a major shoot up in Holland. We drove 24 hours in two days to get there in a four-vehicle caravan through the worst of traffic that included Paris in rush-hour. It helped to listen to the Pirates of the Carribean soundtrack. We got to the Open-Air Bible Museum in Nijmegan (Ninja-man as our audio guy calls it) and shot segments of the Parables of Jesus project for a week. As always, there are too many tales to relate and far too many images for me to sort through in my brain. But here are a handfull of fotos!

We took all of the Speed the Light video/audio equipment that we had in Madrid and packed into a Silver STL VW Cargo van. The fan is a 6-speed shift on the dash. We also had a large Toyota Hiace passenger van, a Seat minivan and our STL VW Bora. We had walkie-talkies so we could tell if anyone got battered on the road.

First day the entire crew went through a walk-through to the scene locations. The museum (www.bijbelsopenluchtmuseum.nl) is set in a large park complete with camels, donkeys, Arab coffee and even a Mithritic temple hidden along a main street. It was cold and rainy that day. We were afraid of the rain. It had been raining for a week, but it held off for the entire time we were shooting but oddly enough dumped hard on us when we got back to Spain. Maybe a Cosmic balance thingy as we strive to tell God's stories?!? hmmmmm....

There was at least a hundred costumes including armor, functioning swords, amphora, hide-bound shields, plenty of beards, tubs of sandals and homespun.

Many of us had to be extras for background shots as well as continue with our technical tasks. Here's Mark Williams tracing power for a light before a scene.

Denise was the Sergeant Major of the production. She was the final authority before Christopher the Director. Christopher has always said that Denise is the best Producer's Assistant that he has ever worked with. As one scene was being shot, the next location was being set-up, lighted etc... It was fast-moving and tense. We made sure everything was cleaner than when we left it. IMM has an open invitation at the museum that not even Dutch National Television has anymore.

A Roman Reenactment group from Holland joined us for the shoot. None of them nor their wives were believers, but were eager to assist because of the video project's reputation for historical accuracy. Here is Tibs, a giant of a man being put into make-up. His demeanor and stature are such that I would not be surprised if he executed dutch criminals with a sledge-hammer to earn a little beer money. Dutch people also don't mind stripping down to nothing and changing costumes in front of American women.

Wim (Vim) helped us grab a shot that might be used in an upcoming scene. He blew his Roman horn while wearing scale-armor that weighed at least 50 lbs. I don't know if he was joking or not but one tune he belted out sounded suspiciously like the Bridal March. These guys craft all of their own gear. True artists. I was told by Wim that Nijmegen was an actual Roman camp way back in the day. Some days walking through the woods between locations in costume I felt like the original soldiers were still watching for intruders.

We shot all scenes in standard video format and high-definition for future use. No one in history has attempted a video representation of the Parables. This stuff will have long-shelf life as educational material long after Gladiator is on sale at WalMart.

I had to play one of the servants. Being a Ham for the camera, I was thrilled to put on a costume, but hated the make-up driven all the way into my ears and under my armpits. We were given no dialogue as there would be voice-over for various languages. When the lights were on and the cameras rolling it was like high-anxiety bible-ad lib. Here's your costume, you're buying spices, now ACTION!!! whew...

Loading up was a relief. The week flew by. We were tired. There were no major snafus during production and we were still all friends. Some of the crew put Denise on the camera jib and had a little game of Teeter-Totter. If you know Denise, you know she enjoyed it.

The distance back was just 20 miles short of travelling from Washington D.C. to K.C. Hard to be alert in a fast-moving convoy on European highways for that long. But God was with us and we got back in one piece.

I've slept hard lately. Now starts the long editing process and the orchestration. Got word early this week that the Parables will be translated for Iranians living abroad among other languages. This was a good investment and a worthy expenditure of emotional energy...

Romans from Remar

2006-04-24T21:02:00.000+01:00

This past week was why I am in Spain. We shot a parable of Jesus in the Remar TV facilities. A handful of missionaries, all of our video/audio equipment, and the strong-hearted outcasts at Remar conspired to create a weapon of mass instruction that will be broadcast in many languages in many lands, including all of North Africa, The Gulf States, Turkey, and Mongolia of all places.

Remar is like a Teen Challenge facility but bigger and messier. Their huge facility out near the town of Daganzo serves as a halfway house for the addicted, dispossesed, ignored and outcast people who happen to find themselves in Spain. Think Good Will dropped onto a dusty rock quarry. It is a dystopian, post-modern Christian sanctuary - a refuge for old criminals and reformed gamblers, young girls involved in destructive life-styles etc... Not all are Spaniards.

There are many Croats, Portuguese, Morrocans and just about every color and stripe among them. They put their hearts into playing soldiers, servants and senators because it would help spread the Gospel. We now have an excellent working relationship with the reclusive Pentecostals of Remar.

Hardly anyone spoke the same language on the shoot. We used hand-signals, adjusted each other's costumes, took turns yelling "Silencio" when we needed quiet on the set, and even laughed at each other's funny faces between scenes. It was a long, hard day. Film crews earn their money. Remar took no pay, just the rights to broadcast the Parables series over their Christian TV channel that reaches all across Spain.

The IMM crew ran into problems with head-room during camera shots because my chicken farm-made palace sets where just a bit short due to transportation requirements (We used an old white VW diesel van) but most of us were short so we did not have to use "force perspective" like LOTR.

The Remar studio is big and well-used. Residents there who have chosen to turn their lives in another direction run a 24-hour a day broadcast operation, by contrast, another Christian studio we considered renting two hours away is clean and pristine. Not much work goes on at the there. They require a $1,000 a day "offering" to use it.

Denise applied make-up and even played an extra in the shoot. She is the Parables director's favorite Producer's Assistant, kind of like the Managing Editor of a newspaper. I had a chance to put on all the sandals of the Roman soldier extras when not otherwise occupied. Roman sandals are leathery spaghetti like things that are difficult to lace-up, especially on big Portuguese guys wearing little red tunics. But after the week was over, everyone was worn-out but we had all crossed many language barriers for the Kingdom!

This week its back to the Chicken Farm for me. I have to repaint the entire Herodian set to look like a Roman political Forum for the next shoot scheduled for the middle of May. I'm tired - but this time it's a "good" tired. It's what I'm here for.

Easter Past

2006-04-19T21:12:00.000+01:00

I went to one of the Easter Procesiones. Parade is too strong a word. Each church has "imagenes" - yes that's images. The penitents carry the images on great gold platforms through the streets. Some of them wear no shoes, others have on slippers. The platforms sometimes weigh in the tons. The penitents walk maybe 200 yards, then rest. Other people who are also pentitents wear pointy hats with faces covered and proceed before and behind the imagenes with candles (yes, think KKK type get ups). A couple of church "bands" go along with each imagene and play a tune. The one I saw was mournful music for Jesus. Slightly more upbeat for the procesion of Mary.

The 7pm procesion didn't actually arrive in the Plaza Mayor until 10pm. Me and a few thousand of my closest Spanish friends had been lined up creating an aisle through the plaza since 8:30. My legs hurt from standing still so long. A sudden vacuum occured around 9 or 9:30 creating an open space in front of me. Suddenly all these thousands of people rushed forward to reposition to the new aisle. It was a scary moment.

Other than that moment it was an orderly crowd in general. Lots of families. One woman waiting by herself was very nice and answered my questions. She decided I should have her spot so I could see better because she had seen the imagenes before, so she shoe horned me into a nonexistent space between her ample tummy and the man in front of her. You can see from the photos I didn't have a great view.

Four older ladies settled in behind me and narrated the event for me. They were very impressed with the decoration on the, for lack of a better word, floats. The Mary float did a little dance. It was much lighter so the guys carrying it could move backwards and forwards to the music. There was a delighted ahhh from the crowd. Applause errupted for those carrying the imagene or the imagene itself when it arrived in front of people. It was a reverent or maybe awe struck moment which I found a little freaky. An odd plaster Jesus manikan and a ornate pile of gold, candles and flowers. Just stuff and symbols, not the substance of relationship. Very interesting.

my view of the pointy hats

Jesus enters to a gasp from the crowd. The odd thing about people carrying the float on their shoulder is that it looks as if the statue is walking at a distance.

If you look close you can see the faces of the pentitents carrying the float.

That's a lot of gold and silver.

That's the back of Jesus and he had long hair. (Plaza Mayor)

Mary & pointy hat penitents

Saturday I ran across a float being removed from a CITY building. It was funny watching the guy holding onto the imagene in a tight embrace to keep it from falling. Though it was covered with a cloth so it wasn't irreverent, I suppose.

Industrial Light and Magic Chicken Farm

2006-04-10T21:23:00.000+01:00

I've been away from the digital world for the past week. We are producing a new series about the parables of Jesus. Our facilities in the next town over are small, so any construction of sets has to be done at the "Nave" (nah-vay). Oddly enough, every storage area in Spain is called a nave. This particular space we use is located on a huge chicken farm that fell out of use long ago.

The place is a huge compound of buildings that can only be reached by passing through the green gate with the holy saint of agriculture on one of the tiled posts. The saint is wearing a brown robe and has a bald spot on top of his head and looks very sad that many chickens died here. Or maybe he is mournfully happy that many Spaniards ate their fill of poultry.

Immediatly on the left is the home of the compound's caretaker. Sometimes he shouts happy things at me when I drive by. I don't understand everything he says. As well as the tiny dog that you can see in the dirt, he has alot of animals, including sheep with big bells that wander around the whole place. Sheep like to stare.

After driving about half a kilometer around the plowed fields and many whitewashed structures you pass the guard dog nearest our building. He is always tied-up. I think he gets off the leash at night and has the run of the place with the other 15 dogs. I make kissy sounds at him when I drive by and I don't think he believes that Volkswagens should be able to make kissy sounds so he dismisses me.

This is the front of our nave. The green door is the only door and it is nearly impossible to open the bolts because they are made of rusty iron and have been repainted too many times. I always bust a knuckle trying to lean and pull on the thing while turning the iron ring that serves as a handle. The floor of the nave is tiled and there are many vents in back. We think this was a chicken-processing area.

This is my work space when I'm constructing sets "old style" with hammers and paint. I've had to paint pillars and columns to look heavy, wall "flats" to look worthy of a palace and wooden boxes to give the illusion of marble slabs. These slabs are the base-pieces for the throne that one of Herod's next-of-kin uses to give orders to his servants. This Parables of Jesus program deserves more than a chicken-farm and me with a bucket of paint. The first series is already being broadcast in at least 11 countries and beamed into Muslim areas via satellite. However, I am very grateful for the quiet times I've had at the chicken farm this week. Imagining and creating marbled patterns, resting a short bit while the first coats of paint dry, eating room-temperature spaghetti out of my plastic dish and listening to the birds exclaim that the green door is open!

Catching up

2006-02-01T10:56:00.000Z

Time has past so quickly. Language school is done. We now hablo the espanol and can make ourselves understood even if all the words aren't in the right order or perhaps not the right tense of verb. It has been rewarding, challenging and stretching to exercise our brains so intensely in such a short time.

The ministry center where we went to school is awakening with new life. It was very quiet when the caretakers were gone dealing with things in New Orleans, their home, and only 3 or 4 of us were around the ministry center. Now, a big group of students (missionaries) have arrived for language school, a series of monastery-type retreats are planned for the Spring, and a team laid a new tile floor in what will be an auxiliary classroom for doing DVDs, computer work, and other workstations. We cheered them on even as it was time for us to go.

Amazing what you can accumulate in just six months. Our Speed-the-Light car was loaded to the gills and even some luggage was on top as we drove to Madrid last weekend.(Can you say Beverly Hillbillies?) We are finally here after the years of itineration, and the months of study, we are ready for the work that God has called us to at International Media Ministries.

The offices here are abuzz with completing music videos in Urdu (spoken in Pakistan) for a Spring/Easter broadcast, and planning for a very large shoot in June for the Parables of Jesus which will occur in Holland. This is a companion piece to The People Who Met Jesus series that we had worked on previously and that we showed you in services where we shared. It's exciting to see so much happening.

This week we are trying to wade through some more bureaucratic processes to get the keys to half of a duplex where we plan to live. The moving and unpacking and adjusting to a new work environment and city lie ahead. Thanks for remembering us in your prayers. We wouldn't be here without you.

Speed The Light!

2006-01-14T21:20:00.000Z

viernes, diciembre 02, 2005 (This post is from December)

We have our STL vehicle now. It is a 5-speed diesel graphite blue 4-door Volkswagen Bora (think "official looking" Jetta). And it was last year's floor model, so we got it for an Excellent price. We'll be able to return about $8,000 back to STL. This car likes me. It is my new friend. But we had many problems getting it. I will try to make the description of the process we encountered very brief, but it lasted about 2 months:

People in Spain want to make money. Sometimes because of various laws, you cannot see a process through to the end like in the States. It is a problem of "navigation" until you find the hole in the fence to crawl through to the next yard of difficulties. We bought the car in one evening. This was easy, because I wanted an excellent, enduring, STL vehicle for the field to perhaps share with other missionaries.

Volkswagen had a STL vehicle that they wanted to sell to me. We signed the papers for it and my name "Darwin K. Godwin" was on the paperwork. Putting my name on the paperwork was a new process for missionaries here, because most STL cars are titled in the name of a previous missionary to avoid legal troubles for newcomers, but that meant that "Joe" missionary was accumulating speeding tickets on his co-worker for Christ's insurance. Bad. So my name was on this STL vehicle to avoid this problem.

We should not have been able to buy the car. This came as a "surprise" to me and to Volkswagen. But they had the money and I had the STL Bora. Did I mention that Springfield transferred an extra few thousand bucks directly into the VW bank in Madrid? The dealership thought we were trying to launder money or they at least respected our attempt at fraud. After trying to get the correct paperwork, the VW bank transferred the difference back to GCCU in Springfield, which bounced it back because they did not know what it was. So the VW Bank here got nervous and cut me a check for the difference, which is taking an interesting route back to Springfield. I do not want STL money hangin over me!!!! Yikes - anyone know a good millstone tailor?

The next day we discovered that I could not get it insured. Because it was in my name, and I did not have a Spanish Driver's License. So, I had to park it deep in a dark garage like it was stolen and it never existed. We had the matriculation (car-tags) on it in my name from Madrid, and to have it changed over to another missionary's name would have been another $1,000 and more legal scrutiny. Best to park it deep in the Batcave and set about getting a Spanish Driver's License.

If you are Moroccan or from the EU or from a South or Central American country (did you know that Mexico is a North American country! I did not...) you can trade you license in for a Spanish license in one day. Or if you do not have one but are from these countries, you can buy one for as much money as you have on you. But, Canadians and us "EstadosUnidenses" but pay the $1,500 for driving school and the exam, which takes about 4 months and involves a possible 40,000 questions. The purpose of the test is to generate money for the government. So it is very common to fail the first three times because of the tangled nature of the questions.

Did I mention that in order for an us to start the process of getting the license we have to have a residency card? We have been trying to get that for about 2 years now. Lots of paperwork in the U.S., and week after next we go to Madrid to get finger-printed as a final step. So, the possibilities of driving the STL car seemed to be pushed back even further. BUT.....
My good friend of my good friend Albert has a "clause" in his insurance contract which allows him to sell me excellent insurance that is fully legal and even covers fire damage by upset young Muslim immigrants. So, this answer to prayer allows me to drive the STL vehicle with folders full of papers with my name on it in the glovebox. So, at random stops I am safe... for three months, until I start the process of getting the license, and then I have a few more months grace period.

The best description I have heard of Spain is that it is run according to the moods of the people behind that certain window in that certain office in that certain department at that certain time of day. If you ask the wrong question you will get the wrong answer and earn yourself more official paperwork. If you ask the "right" question with a smile, you might get some helpful advice, depending on the mood of the room. If I was a conspiracy theorist, I would say that the laws are designed to keep people in a "catch-22" so you can be picked up for anything at anytime and deported. But We have overcome this phase and continue to be one step ahead in the game - with the help of God. (There's a fine theological argument involving the law etc...!) Some days I feel comforted that I can drive the car out of the country at the drop of a hat for just a full tank of diesel - should the need arise.

But for now, I have that ominous EU symbol stamped all over my name and attached to a STL vehicle that the youth of Kansas purchased to combat the dark side.

Lifes details....

2005-10-14T17:09:00.000+01:00

What a whirlwind life is. Everyday it seems some new event occurs that requires adjustment on our part. Eventually we will be settled in this country but for now we walk through the challenges of bureaucracy in a foreign land.

After waiting for a month and opening a bank account so we could be direct billed for phone services we found out this week that we will not be able to get service while we are at language school. We're not totally sure why, but something to do with the lines and the timing in the little community where we live. We are disappointed to say the least as we were counting on a computer connection (via the phone company) to stay connected to people. In Madrid where we will be more permanent we will eventually be able to get a phone and get hooked up. That will be after the first of the year. For now we beg and borrow computer time where we can find it. Nothing regular though.

We are on our 7th unit for language school and it is going well. We are able to participate in conversations and make ourselves understood in many rudimentary ways. Not always in the correct verb tense but people seem to get the idea of what we want, usually. : ) We are enjoying it overall and glad to feel ourselves absorbing some of the culture where we will live.

In our apartment in a town called La Mora we only get Spanish news channels, a German sports channel, and a pbs type channel in the Catalan language. We watched the Spanish news mesmorized by the images of distruction in the US as the Hurricane Katrina hit. We saw much less coverage of Rita.

Our missionary friends here and the caretakers/administrators of the ministry center here where we go to school had a house and kids in New Orleans, so it was very intense around here as everything unfolded. Bob and Denise eventually had to go to the United States to sort out everything with their family and to try to raise some support - many of their support churches disappeared under the water.
In their absence we are helping with the ministry center while we continue to go to school. We and another woman clean the facilities and get it ready for retreats or small groups who come here from around Spain. Sometimes a missionary comes for a retreat or for research purposes. We are glad to help out and feel like we are contributing to this ministry while we are here.

We are in the process of getting a Speed the Light car. Big time THANKS to the youth in Kansas!!!! There has been a law change that none of the current missionaries knew about so we are having to jump through some strange bureaucratic hoops. All is not resolved as I write this, but somehow it will be eventually.

Thanks to everyone back home for their prayers. We appreciate you!

D.

Missing people and places

2005-10-09T17:03:00.000+01:00

Sights and sounds of this place are more numerous than I will ever be able to fully describe. If living in another culture is like swimming in an ocean, I can say that the novelty of floating in the sea has given way to riptides and I have drowned.

Driving to language school from La Mora to Mas Blanc each morning, a typically mundane event in the states, is punctuated by 89 curves on a narrow road past olive groves, vindyards, almond and carob trees, crumbling towns, political graffiti, dusty sidestreets and high stone walls. Every task is burdened with beauty. I could charge people $50 bucks in the states for this drive if I served them chocolate pastries and coffee in the back seat. But for every amber ray of sun on on dusty ancient walls, there is a longing for the life with compatriots I left in Kansas.

But I can feel myself embedding deep in this place, and the words to describe the stretching deep in my spirit are not sufficient to the task. All that remains is wonder and longing. I would pay fifty euros for a Thursday night at men's group, or a game night with friends.

I've made friends with a rooster. I stand by a fence and throw old pieces of baguette at him while he crows into my face for not being more forthcoming. There are tiny lizards that could make nests in bottle caps along the walls, and I chase them with my finger. The storms, called tormentas here, remind me of Kansas as wall clouds move in from the sea and blow the rain in wet rages against the glass.

Friday night I helped prepare for the men's church dinner (fiesta de hombres) that was to begin at 10pm. That evening I was the only EstadoUnidense at the long table. I sat between pastor Juan Antonio (who is always good for a hug without a kiss) and George (horhay) from La Paz, Bolivia. Across from me was Santiago. He asked me (in Castillian) if I liked the driving here. I said (in Castillian) that I did because of the curves. Everyone laughed when I explained that Kansas was flat and straight the further oeste you went. When the 20 or so guys sang the worship songs (that I'd never heard before) I felt that I was witness to a night far back in history before a major battle or extended exploration.

Well, this is probably enough dramatics for one morning, and I will wrap it up. Hasta pronto mis amigos...

The Big Yellow Container Arrived!

2005-08-26T18:22:00.000+01:00

I got an urgent phonecall about our container and had to high-tail it to Madrid because they were delivering it there. Before we could leave, I had to change the battery in a hail storm on the Speed-The-Light Van we were taking. One of the bolts droppped down into a grate and was washed away by the water, so I had to get a new one of those. When I went into the Spanish hardware store, I didn't count on translating into metric bolt sizes. But I completed the task without getting hit by lightning!

We finally left Thursday night for the 5 hour drive up and over mountains and through the desert from Tarragona to Madrid. The last half of our drive was in the dark. I put cruise control on 120K as speeding tickets via camera are very popular. Didn't seem to matter to other drivers. I was always the slowest, with many cars passing me at twice my speed.

The next morning we raced out to our new storage area that was an old chicken farm. Tried to talk to the little old lady in the farm house that lives just inside the entrance. She kept throwing up her hands and shaking her head. We finally saw the container that was loaded in Kansas City. It was way down at the other end of the old chicken processing plant. The semi-truck hauling it drove under an electric power line that hung too low, but the power line bounced across the top after nearling being pulled out of the transformer.

We had been expecting just to sign a paper in person in Madrid this day that would free-up the container to be delivered sometime in the future. But the big yellow container came anyway! A/G hands unloaded it like it about one hour. In Kansas City I loaded all of their items for the mission field in the very back, so they would unload all of my stuff to get to it. All of our "stuff" is now in a tidy corner on wooden palets in the old chicken processing building. Only one coffee table leg was damaged. Everything else seems to be okay... but we didn't have time to check each box because the delivery driver was charging us by the hour.

Today we took what boxes we needed and drove 5 hours back to Tarragona. It was about 1200 kilometers in the end. I've been home for about an hour. I'm tired, but it feels like quite an accomplishment. This is something I could not have done on my own. Many thanks to all who made it possible!

A month

2005-08-11T19:02:00.000+01:00

At first you measure in days...we've been here six days and still have jet lag. Then you measure in weeks..two weeks today, can't believe we finally finished itineration and here we are in Spain.

Now we will begin to measure in months. We have been here a month this week and can't describe how many things in our lives have changed this month. Everything we eat, everywhere we drive, what we do everyday, it's all new. We've driven two different cars already, and will be moving to a different apartment by the time another month has passed.

We are involved in an English outreach in Torredembarra, the next town north of us. So far there have been lots of hand outs but not really anyone except those of us from one of the Spanish churches. It's a first try at reaching the English speakers who are here for the summer.

The majority of our day is spent at language school cramming Spanish into our heads. It's a wonderful priveledge and we are enjoying the Spanish church services more and more.

So much can change in a month. A dear friend, Ruth, at home has been diagnosed with a stage 4 cancerous brain tumor and is in the hospital weak right now. She was at a fourth of July party we were at right before we left. We don't know what a month will hold, but we do know that we do not go alone. God is on the journey with us. I'm so thankful.

D.

First Sunday

2005-07-10T12:54:00.000+01:00

Church in Tarragona is only on Sunday night, so we got dressed and were picked up about 6:30, still very sunny. Drove to an industrial park where one of the warehouses has been converted into the Iglesia...I've forgotten the other words in the church name. I'll be back so I will learn it. They sang several songs that I recognized - Holy is the Lord God Almighty, the whole earth is filled with his glory...another: I want to see you Lord, and maybe one other I knew. It's weird even though I knew them I couldn't think of the English words; I guess because my brain was trying so hard on the Spanish overhead. Santo, Santo, Santo was the Holy, Holy, Holy part of one song I figured out. It was contemporary, loud, not dressed up though no shorts.

Mostly young people only maybe 5 or 6 older people - 2 were a pastor's parents visiting from Argentina and the other 2 were the senior pastor and his wife (he's Spanish, she's from Sweden). I liked the idea that the young people here are hungry for a new taste of God, not settling for what was in the past, but I'm so used to the mix of generations at our home church that I missed it.

The people were friendly - you haven't been to church if you leave after service the missionary told us. It's expected that you stay and visit. It's always cool to be with a new body of believers somewhere, but here we couldn't understand the words much. The heart was evident and ernest. I did feel like I'd been to church though the sermon went completely over my head. Don't even know the topic. At the end, everyone stood in prayer and cried out for the city and for more people to come to know Christ (I know this because a missionary friend translated the instructions for me). It was a powerful moment - loud prayer I couldn't understand with my brain, but that I could join in wholeheartedly. Cool.

Our current hosting missionaries have asked us to participate in an English speaking outreach two weeks from now. We'll see what happens.

D.

Descriptive Update

2005-07-08T17:14:00.000+01:00

The sun is already high here in Spain. This morning I spent ironing a green T-shirt in a marble-floored kitchen. We will be in this ground-floor apartment until Sept. 6. There are huge sliding doors in each room that walk out onto the patio. The patio is about 20 feet from the pool. A little further out from the pool is a set of double-train tracks. All manner of freaky-lookin trains rumble through at all hours - including a high-speed passenger train that travels about 160mph and looks like a bullet.

The Spanish people are very friendly and not intimidating. Even the "big tough" guys are all about my size with dark short hair and maybe a beard. I am anxious to make friends. This apartment is a blessing. I don't want to brag too much about it - because entering a new culture for a long stay with jet-lag is actually pretty terrifying - even if it is Spain. If it was just a 3-month term I would be more relaxed. A 3-year term after saying goodbye to everyone can be very claustrophobic. I even have to relearn how to find a light-switch - nevermind making a simple left-hand turn. This is a long ways from being confident in any situation anywhere in the USA. But I can cope, and am looking forward to normalization.

As for the London bombings. We get about 8 channels here on TV. There are about 4 Spanish channels including Dubbed over American Sitcoms (Everybody Loves Raymonde! and Full Casa!) The other English channel is British CNN. As you can imagine - we are watching non-stop coverage. Interesting that the Spanish News channel had a special on Global Terrorism that included many shots of the Twin Towers, their own Madrid train bombings, and the latest British catastrophe. They feel a common bond, and have very strong reactive emotions.

Although it sounds like we're living the high-life right now, my impression of Spain is a combination of things. Think: New Mexico meets Italy meets Legoland meets Wyandotte Co. and you have a basic foundation. Funny - I feel very at home here, although the uniforms of the police are a bit intimidating. I believe that the law is less about function and more about a show of strength. This maybe left over from the dictatorship of General Franco which only ended about the same time the very first StarWars movie came out in the USA in 1977.

Most of my impressions will change as I learn more. It hasn't even been 24 hours yet. In a few months we will move to the interior of the country near Madrid - where the temperature was 104F today. Yes - things will change.

As for our schedule. We will be the first of 4 couples to go start this rotation of language school. We will drive a few kliks over the hill to a small compound of sorts that overlooks a large (beautiful!) chicken farm. Our first vehicle is a van. Around Sept. we will driving a bigger white van nicknamed the "bus" because it is so huge. Should be fun driving it on the extremely twisty roads. It is probably a stick-shift.

We will be "driven" hard in language school by an older lady from Argentina who we must call Professora. Her nickname is "Franca" after the previously mentioned Dictator Franco. Fair warning! The reason I call the ministry center a compound is because it has an iron gate and low walls and sits on a slope. It is not very big and has about three connected buildings all in various states of repair. It was bought from a bankrupt business man for a song. The goal is to create a "Celtic model" monastary for Christians there. The hope is to draw mature Christians as well as desperate "pagans" to the place for a monastic time of quiet, work, study, and reflection. This model worked well in Ireland with St. Patrick. Instead of planting churches, you also bring in the oppressed who are looking for peace and let them see the benfits of Christian living. This type of model is an experiment by A/G missionaries who hope to spread the paradigm into the rest of Europe. Interesting that here in Tarragona, the locals strongly believe that Paul was the first Christian to land here.

K.

First Impressions

2005-07-07T19:10:00.000+01:00

Today I first saw Spain from an airplane. A bird's eye view of the Pyranees mountains with snow bits still on the top dividing France from Spain. The valleys were filled with tan and green patches of rural agriculture. As we neared the city tile roofs came into view and the Mediterranean sea.

Barcelona was only an airport and a freeway. It was good to get here finally. We were delayed three hours in Atlanta by Tropical Storm Cindy.

We came right back to Tarragona where the Language school and ministry center are located. It's wonderful coming to an already established missionary community. The veterans pick you up and hand carry you every where. It gives the attled, jet lagged brain a break.

We've been in two homes - impressions - marble floors, metal slide down shutters, more contemporary furnishings, small rooms but more rooms than I expected. Square toilets, a variety of flushing methods.

A trip to the grocery store - a big super Walmart type of place called Carrefour. People dress up more here and seem friendly. We bumped into someone from church that the lady taking us knew and they all introduced themselves and their kids. (in Spanish of course). There was a whole isle for yogurt and one whole side of an aisle for varieties of sausage including big legs of hams (including the hoof). We didn't study this because we were just too tired. I couldn't make a decision about how many paper towel rolls to buy, fortunately the woman with us made it for me.

All the traffic signs and brands of groceries remind me a lot of the things we dealt with in Belgium, so it is bringing back lots of memories.

So far a good thing. Looking forward to sleeping in a real bed tonight.

D.

Life Changes

2005-06-27T02:04:00.000+01:00

We have been packing and planning like crazy. With the visas, everything is falling into place quickly. Sadly, our dog passed away after we returned from Chicago. We had planned to take him with us and have shed many tears over losing our furry companion. This is just one of the life changes hitting us right now.

This weekend, we packed all our belongings into a 20 foot metal container. Tomorrow it will be towed away to be put on a boat and shipped to Spain. We won't see it for 30 days and then it will be to move everything into storage while we are in language school.

It has been a hectic week. Good friends came and helped us load. Major kudos to Kerry's dad and brother, and friends - Roger, Mark, and Drew. Kerry and company spent many calories moving in the heat. Major thanks!

We will wrap up lots of details this week, changing mail addresses, turning off utilities, clean our house up for the renters who are moving in soon. Details! God has brought so much together all at once. We knew God had everything taken care of but still it is amazing to see it all.

We don't know what all awaits us in the coming weeks, but the time has come to launch into this next phase of life. Ready for take off!

Thankfulness runs deep

2005-06-13T05:45:00.000+01:00

We have passed an incredible week. We met new friends -- some of the IMM crew -- at a meeting in Texas. It was so good to see the projects that are on going and to begin to see how we will blend in with the team. It got us excited to leave. Wednesday night special prayer asked for visas to be released.

The next morning we got word that our visas were approved and ready for pick up in Chicago at the consulate! It was a miracle -- my visa was not expected to come in for some time! So we are rejoicing that God worked around/through/or in spite of bureaucracy. Finally the flood gates have opened and everything is falling into place.

Tonight, our home church said good-bye to us. It was great to be able to share our vision with dear friends from church and the special friends who came just for the occasion. A very moving evening. It was wonderful to feel the love, prayers and support of people who know us so well. They know our warts and love us anyway!

We have incredible friendships and they were demonstrated tonight. We have so much to be thankful for in our lives.

It's a count the cost kind of day. It's the people that make the leaving hard. The work is getting us excited; it's time to go. None of that is in question but leaving our people - that's hard especially when they are so terrific. I know we'll still have the friends, we just won't get to hang out eating cake and popcorn like we did tonight.

4am is perfect.

2005-04-30T16:37:00.000+01:00

It has begun and I have been here before. Waking up from a slumbering world and having life crash down into my bed before I open my eyes. It usually happens towards morning the month before a major departure. It is a moment of true clarity - a perfect time to realize that a leaving is actually going to take place. Then comes the icy slide as logistics and time-tables battle with emotions - when the next step of the looming departure leaves no room for breath, and I see the faces of those I care for, and the room is silent, and my thoughts are shrieking. I can see a little too clearly at 4am. My vision is 20/20 and life is too bright to stare at. So I breathe deep and sink back into dreams, hiding behind the sunglasses of the Almighty. Thank God the world is imperfect. Do you ever wonder why we feel no compassion for the perfection of a super-model, yet a struggling stranger can evoke our compassion? The perfection of 4am is a lie. the imperfect world of 4pm is more to my liking.

K.

Roller Coaster

2005-04-29T03:52:00.000+01:00

On Monday, we visited the Spanish Consulate for several hours. In Chicago, the consulate said Kerry's papers were in order, but since I didn't have one thing (which they told our bosses in Spain I didn't need) my visa would not allow me to do missions work OR I had to get two more papers from Spain because I'm now under the new rules and Kerry is under the old rules. And by the way, my visa was going to take 6 weeks to 3 months and his would only take 2-3 weeks.

It looked like Kerry was going to have to go to Spain without me, since he will only have a certain number of days to enter the country when he gets his visa. We were having headquarters call our boss in Spain and him call our cell phone as we're standing on a street corner in Chicago. We weren't in tears or anything, but it felt almost like starting over on the paperwork since it takes so long to get stuff from Spain. It was looking like we wouldn't leave for months. Really paralyzing. While we don't want to say goodbye to everyone, it's simply time to get going.

We spent two very shocked and shaken days. Then yesterday we got another call from Spain. Our area director (the next boss up in line) said we were to have me enter as a resident -- that is technically unable to do missions work. We'll sort out the kind of work I can do on that side of the big pond. Also we are to go to Spain when Kerry gets his visa. I will return to Chicago when my visa is ready and pick it up. So time wise we are back on track for a departure sometime in June. Suddenly everything is on and urgent, but this feels better than a quagmire. Jetting back and forth between Madrid and Chicago sounds insane, but our boss said "welcome to missions." My friend L said it might be good because I will know of things I really can't get and really want after a couple months in Spain, so I can do a Walmart run in Chicago.

Crazy.

D.

Goodbyes begin

2005-04-19T06:56:00.000+01:00

When are you leaving? That's the way many conversations begin lately. It's a theme. The date of departure has been a vague undefinable point in an unknown future for many months. When it is nebulous, it's less threatening, less real. But that's changing.

Tonight was the second of the goodbyes. I've been avoiding them. I keep telling people, "Oh, we'll see you before we leave, don't worry."

I do mean it, but I'm also trying to avoid the unpleasantness of saying farewell to people that have significance and value to me. It's easier to just fade away, but that's not the way it will happen. The significance has gone both ways and so my friends and comrades won't allow me to quietly disappear. I love the time with the people, so it isn't the goodbyeing that is the problem. The departure is the problem.

Like a potted plant, I have grown happily in my snug corner of Kansas. Now as I prepare to leave and cross the ocean, my roots that have intertwined with many people here are being pulled and torn. I have to be separated from these dear people. While there is some tearing, I get to take pieces of them with me and I hope I am leaving some of myself behind too.

So I begin this blogging in order to sustain and nurture what is here. Yet I recognize that all our relationships will change and mutate into something different as the distance changes our circumstances.

Vive la difference.
(hmmm, I think that's French and I'm suppose to be learning Spanish....)

D.

itineration

2005-03-12T20:57:00.000Z

Morning Everyone!

The image of a huge ship sailing out of a safe harbor to undertake a major journey was the best way I could describe the process of itineration. I don't know why I thought a couple of boat rides made me a sailor, but I was soon to find out the truth. Reality hit when it took multiple tugs and massive shoves just to move this new ship a few feet from the dock. After busting the links on a few chains, there was a point when I felt the ship's huge mass gliding across the port and heading steadily across open water. The props began to churn and momentum built into a steady pace that was a testament to the sweat it took to get underway - I began to suspect that even if I had the capacity to slow the ship down, I could not. Days passed. Weeks passed. Eerily quiet afternoons and soul-numbing stormy nights would pass on the open sea, with no where to drop anchor during moments of weariness and frustration. Neece and I would spend many mornings trying to hog-tie and wrestle the other overboard, only making peace a few moments later until mutiny became an option once again. Many times I longed for land and fantasized about a small island with just me, a hammock and a moment of shade with a baptist beer (Dr. Pepper) to cool my sunburnt face. Many days I stared over the side of the ship not knowing if the waves were actually passing beneath our ship, or if it was just the wind blowing around us and we were standing still (even though I could feel the engine thrumming deep in the hull.) At times I was seasick and desperate for a point of reference. I would see vessels on the horizon and would try to contact them. Some of these vessels were Carnival Cruisers headed the other direction, who couldn't take the time to acknowledge my call. Other vessels were tired trawlers that would put alongside and offer to share what provisions they had while comforting one another with tales of the mysterious deep. Looking up to the stars later in the evening, I would see by the Southern Cross that progress was indeed being made, and the silent beauty would nourish my spirit. And then one morning the horizon changed in a small way - a gray strip on the horizon turned into land, and we both dared not hope that we had actually crossed such a vast distance. But it was true. Now the momentum is reversing. Comfortable with the physics of the ship, we are patiently riding its mass into the middle of a large peaceful bay that we do not recognize - and there are many questions to be answered. "When can we get off the boat? What will the land be like? Who will meet us? Can they warn us of the new dangers?" But other questions from the journey will never be answered. Someday the wounds will heal into scars and the many crossings of the future will waste our fat into wiry muscle. But I know this - I'll never listen to the Beach Boys' "Sloop John B" without staring out at the ocean like a buggy pirate with an itchy peg-leg...
It is just beginning

K.