Uganda.

Dear Mom & Dad, 

I'm not sure where to start really.  I'm 36 years old and not in my wildest dreams would I have ever thought that you two would travel to Africa.  Never.  And definitely not Uganda, but ... God's funny like that.  He usually makes things happen and has people go where they don't picture themselves going.  Ever.  I guess I should know by now that really nothing is impossible with Him.

You were gone for 2 weeks - experiencing an abundant amount of love, humbleness, quiet strength, and so much joy.  Traveling to minister to others - returning having been ministered to, you came back the same, but changed in so many ways as well.  Humbled & thankful, and in awe of how big our God really is.

Who would have guessed last September that you would be without a house of your own, all your belongings in storage, and on a flight across the world?!  Not me. (grin)

I've always admired your "togetherness."  You each have your own strengths and passions, but rarely are you doing something alone.  You're a team - and this decision to go to Otino Waa and be a part of PATH Ministries for a portion of your trip around the sun in 2012, was definitely one you made together.  Together with Christ.

Thank you - for showing my family and I what it means to act in faith, trust in the unknown, and believe that 

 God can use even the least of us to do good for His glory, for going when He said go!, and for being His hands and feet in a poverty stricken land.

Your stories, the relationships you built, and the memories you made will be treasures for years to come - not only in the lives of you, but in the lives of us as well.  Those who are a part of your story have benefited from your journey more than you'll ever know. 

Thank you for living 40 years together - with God as your leader.  This adventure you just took is living proof that He's not through with you yet.

In admiration of all that live, say, and do to honor Him,

Lindsay

tomatoes, peppers, & some target practice too.

Dear boys, 

There are so many things to love about where we live.  So, so many.  I don't know if you really understand or not how much space you have to play in comparison to most everyone else in your world, but it's a lot.

You can run, you can jump, you can play, you can throw ... you can do just about anything and everything where we live, and there isn't anyone to tell you to stop being so loud or to quit having so much fun.  There are no cars to watch out for, and no rules to obey (well, maybe there are a few).  One thing you'll find for certain as you step out of our house is a whole lot of life waiting to be lived.

Recently we were given a large box of tomatoes.  Tomatoes are not your favorite things to eat, but you do enjoy the salsa that I've learned to make and can.  Anyway, sometimes too much of a good thing can be more work than it's worth, and while we strive to teach you not to be wasteful, some things just need to be thrown out.  The box of tomatoes that I didn't get to fast enough is one of them.

I've never signed you up for baseball, and only just this past summer and the one before, did you really get the whole concept of catching and throwing anything.

Our life is full.  Full of opportunities for you to explore, and work, and use your imaginations.  The box of almost-rotten tomatoes gave you something that no boys in the city would ever experience.

Target practice - tomato style.

No matter what you do, or what you play - while you strive to be better at who you are and what you do - remember that target practice with tomatoes is what life is about - taking that which you have an abundance of and making the most of it.

This life you live with wide-open-spaces isn't something everyone experiences.  In fact, many wish they could be you - even just for a day.  The good news is, you know you're blessed ... and that's worth everything.

With thanks for all you are and all you are becoming, 

Mom

somethin' 'bout a rodeo.

**  in our world, the Pendleton Round-Up has a lot to do with  friends, laughter, and love. go figure. **

the dentist.

Dear Mack,

You have the most precious personality and charm right now at the age of 5.  Your freckles are multiplying, your eyes sparkle when you smile, and your hair is this beautiful color that catches the rays of sunlight perfectly.

You have also had some interesting dental issues lately too.  I use the word interesting because I really can't think of a better word to explain it.  It's not a bad thing, but it does make it difficult to convince you that dentists really are good people.

Your tooth was cracked recently and when I took you to get the filling today, they found that your tooth was actually fractured.  The nerve was exposed and it may be that they have to pull it.  The only two words that come to mind are NOT and FUN.

Mor-Mor and I sat in the waiting room, school work piled on my lap, and a magazine across hers.  About 20 minutes into the procedure I recognized the wimper coming through the hallway.  And then the wimper turned to sobbing.  It was torture.  Pure torture.  I think everyone in the office wanted to cry with you, and if it makes you feel better, Mor-Mor actually did.

The good news is, our dentist did a fantastic job getting a filling in that little tooth of yours.  He came out and visited with me to explain what he had done, and also to forewarn me that we might have to come back for some more "pain" if you continue to have trouble with that tooth.  I'm hoping that we've seen the last of him for the next few months, but I'm also going to try to prepare you for the fact this will not be your last encounter with pain at the dentist.  Reality isn't always what it's cracked up to be.  The dentist office usually = pain.

..................

Tonight as I rocked you back to sleep, I realized that I have learned something about myself through this whole experience.  As much as I "preach" the following slogans:  ... be brave, just do it, I'm cheering you on, trust God, look for joy, be happy, don't complain, walk humbly ... the list goes on and on ...the truth of the matter is, I'm not always "practicing" my own words.  Funny how a trip to the dentist for you brought me face to face with my own reality.

The reality that I need live and believe everything I so easily insist others do.

I need to quit expecting greatness and bravery and courage from others when I'm not even close to being there myself.

I have told you for the past 2 years how wonderful the dentist is.  I've insisted that it won't hurt - when I know it will, and I've even tried to make you believe that only good things happen when you have an appointment there.

The reality is, life isn't all about sticker and lollipops.

There is pain.

And no matter how hard we try to avoid that which is uncomfortable, it may be just what we need - to push us one step closer to being "that person" we're meant to be.

* That person who faces their fears with the hope and faith that Jesus is right beside them.

* That person who looks anxiety right in the eye and wins the staring contest they've found themselves in - hands-down.

* That person who believes without a doubt that God is for them, not against them.

* That person who practices what they preach ... and preaches only what they practice.

............................

You just cried yourself to sleep about an hour ago.  I tried to console you, but you wanted to be by yourself.

The good news is, you weren't by yourself  ... and you know what Mack, you're turning into "that person."

And "that person" is amazing.

I love you with my whole entire heart ... and then some!

And I think our dentist office has a fond appreciation and love for you too ~ especially after today.

Your biggest fan,

Mommy

the neighbor's pool.

Dear Bob & Nancy,

This letter is a bit late, but one of the many sayings I catch myself saying is: 'better late than never.'  As I was saving images to my external hard drive last night, I came across these from an afternoon in your pool.  A pool that offered just the right amount of 'coolness' on those hottest days of August.  The days that seemed to go on, and on, and on.  Somehow, I missed posting these, but again, better late than never.
This summer brought opportunity to drive a different direction for me than usual because although our land neighbors yours, you & I really don't see each other that often.  Funny how hundreds of acres but only a few miles can keep people distant. I guess it is simply because you live one direction, and I'm usually headed in the other.  I truly enjoyed heading east, especially when the destination was your pool, and on this day in particular.

Life is busy.  There is always something to do, places to go, people to call, cookies to bake, and well, I was so very thankful to add 'a pool to jump into' to the list. We didn't find out until later that you don't like kids to 'jump' into your pool.  My apologies.  Next time I'll make sure you're there to referee or should I say 'lifeguard.'  My boys have never been good at NOT jumping.

All I can say is, this mama needed a place to cool off (literally) several days in a row, and your willingness to let us spend time adding a whole lot of 'noise' to your 'quiet' was a gift.

I don't know if we'll always be neighbors or if we'll always be leasing land from you, but I do hope that you know what a treasure the summer of 2012 was for my boys and I.  There were so many 'good' things, and your pool was definitely near the top of the list.

The downside is that a new season is upon us and we're once again faced with the phrase:  all good things must come to an end.

Mack's still crying about it.  And after scrolling back through these again, I think I might be wiping a tear or two away as well.

May the next three seasons bring opportunities for more fun, more smiles, and places to warm up rather than cool off.

With thanks for the goodness you've let us claim ~   Lindsay