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Home Sweet Trailer in Baja: Abraham’s Forever Faith in My Face
I am no longer a journaler. Journaler? That’s a weird word. I engaged my pens decades ago, especially when the subject matter revolved around boys, but then I tapered. Since then I’ve started and stopped more than start-stop technology in city traffic, but I just can’t get into it. So now I use them as notebooks, and I’m totally fine with that. No more guilt. For years I couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to journal anymore until I realized the list involved reasons I didn’t want to admit. Mix together slight perfectionism and the constant inner critic of an Enneagram one, with a full schedule and a woman…
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Kicked Out of the Bank: When Rejection Suddenly Strikes You and Your Family
A few years into Baja living, my husband learned to roll with the inconvenient punches, knew exactly how to pay all the bills in person, and understood the cultural norms. But of all the places we visited in the city, going to a Mexican bank never felt fun. Between 230 cars jockeying for 13 parking spaces, sketchy holes in the sidewalks and a general feeling of being a tad nervous carrying too much cash, I preferred to stay in the car. Or at home. At least their banks had real police officers packin’ heat at the front door. None of this rent-a-cop packin’ snacks nonsense you find in the States. …
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Mexican Manna: Do You Know What You Need?
In case you’re considering launching a cross-cultural ministry, organic enterprise or local venture, here are two things I wish someone would have told me before our family took off for the great unknown. Buckle up—they’re both extremely complex and ridiculously basic: On some level, I already knew about these two things because, well… life. But wow. I had no idea how scary true they would prove to be. From the beginning, through the middle, and after the end, my husband and I felt the effects of every emotion that came from human disappointment. Friend/family, old/young, poor/rich… didn’t matter. But right on the heels of every one of our bugged eyes…
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Praying for Closed Doors
“I don’t know which college to pick. I got into these two schools and I like them equally, but I’m afraid to pick the wrong one.” When we ran a GAP-year program in Baja, MX, each class of students lived with us from August to June. They were all recent high school graduates and no one had lived away from home yet. Tied in knots between quality universities, we watched them makes lists of pros and cons and worry for weeks, sometimes months. Cal Baptist or Moody? Point Loma or Liberty? Baylor or Westmont? Azusa or Biola? If you attended one of those schools, you most likely have a gut…
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Trust, but Verify
Dude #1: “I am so glad I checked.” Dude #2: “I would do anything to be able to go back and check.” Where do you fall when it comes to verifying information that could tip the scales toward relief or disaster? As a mom, it’s my job, my right, and my responsibility to ask my kids questions about their outings, friends, whereabouts, etc. Sometimes (ahem—like this morning) I get major pushback, but I press on. Why? Because regrets carry weight and guilt, and teens actually want boundaries. Prudence: Careful, wise discernment; the good management of talents and resources and the showing of tact and wisdom in relationships with other…
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A Loss, a Baby & Secondary Infertility: What I Learned While Waiting to Get Pregnant
After five years of marriage, my husband and I decided we wanted a baby. Sad to say, I don’t recall checking with God much about this, but He didn’t send a concerned email so I laid my clothes on the bed next to Doug’s and bam—prego. Phone calls, nursery plans and a roomy pair of overalls became the norm. Until I went in for my first ultrasound at twelve weeks and the technician looked strange. Nice lady, but I could tell she couldn’t tell, so I studied her face. “Everything okay?” “The doctor will go over everything with you.” “I thought there would be a heartbeat by now.” “He’ll…
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Finishing Well. Sort Of: Moving to Another Country When You’d Rather Not
Did you know you’re never supposed to start a sentence with a number in the shape of a number? 11 years ago we had recently moved to Porvenir. We felt rather pale. And tall. 9 months ago we thought we might move back to the States. I didn’t want to. 7 weeks ago I stopped packing for our move and celebrated my last Mother’s Day in Mexico. 5 days ago Doug moved our fridge and beds into our new rental. Weird. 3 hours ago our real estate agent moved through our home with his tripod, clickety-clicking his way from the calle to the bodega to the baño. 1 minute ago…
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Your Grass Looks Greener: Stay at Home Moms vs Working Moms
Two Moms, Two Letters, Two Countries Dear Missionary Mom, I see you down here, with your hair pulled up and your patience falling down. Doin’ that missionary thing can drain, I know. It all looked so quaint from a distance, didn’t it? Needy people, corner sweet bread shops, hammocks in palms. Did you move for the life the promo video promised? I’m glad I’ve been your neighbor. Living in Baja has felt attractive, mostly. It’s been a place where those old roots I planted could get some fresh air and be replanted. Our kids probably won’t be graduating with yours though. We’re all scattered around and therefore…
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Double Border, Side of Stress, Hold the Sunset
Crossing the Mexican border solo is not my favorite. But living in Baja for ten years makes me prepared, mostly confident and ready. Until that one time. After a lousy weekend back home for a funeral, I board some 737, block my row with stuff and close my eyes. Guilt tells me to open them and welcome any passerby, but the plane is virtually empty and I am spent. After touching down in San Diego, all that stands between me and getting home before dark is shifting my weight for 30 minutes at carousel #1, finding my shuttle, retrieving my vehicle, grabbing a fully-leaded liquid treat and heading for stores.…
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Cross-Cultural Patience: People Wait for God in Hamburg, Germany Too
I made a new friend! She’s on the other side of the Atlantic, but technology doesn’t discriminate when an American writer in Germany and an American writer in Mexico bond over the not-so-popular W-word. We both love Jesus and we both wrestle with waiting. Works for me! Please give a big “Welcome/Bienvenida/Willkommen” to Caitlin Lieder. Moving to Germany meant stepping out in faith in a big way. It was a new level of trusting Jesus; we moved internationally a few times but never with four kids under five years old, and we did not make the decision lightly. We talked and prayed with our small group, pastor, and trusted family members for over a year…
