You Should Have Bought a Squrill/Part II

As we navagaited our way through the crowd who had assembled with their luggage outside the door we saw Nick looking like a caged animal on the other side of the fence. Well really..I guess we were the ones in the cage.He indicated to us that there was a long walk down to the parking lot. Israel and I turn to the right with him pushing the cart with about 180 pounds of luggage. We get no more than 10 feet when a Haitian man nealy pulls the cart from Israel's hands and insists on pushing it for him even though I am infatic that it is not necessary. I finally give in rememering Gwenn saying "If you get someone to help with your bags do not give them more than $1.00/bag. We get half way down the path and the man says "$10.00" I say "No, I will give you five." He says "No! $5.00 from you and $5.00 from him." I say "No." but Israel pulls $2.00 from his pocket and the man settles for $7.00.
Finally at the end of the walk that Gwenn calls the "walk of shame" past the many people who are calling out "God Bless you mame' I am hungry. Give to me money."
Our flight being delayed for an hour was not really a problem because Gwenn and Nick had to wait for someone else's flight a few hours later. We went on a diet coke search and finally returned for Jen. She did not have the good fourtune of sittingo next to a woman with a tiny teenly infant whom she could help out so it took her more than an hour to arrive at the end of the walk of shame. By this time is was raining HARD and it was getting dark.We traveled though Port Au Prince with bags piled on our laps and Gwenn at the wheel.
In about an hours time the rain was washing over the road and the traffic starting to back up.In Haiti traffic is well...a bit outside of my comfort zone. With puddles and pot holes threating to swallow us alive Gwenn manuvered the pick up past motos and cars and through small rivers that had appeared from no where. At one point in this a man in a yellow rain slicker knocked on Gwenn's window and demanded to see her driver's licencse. She questioned his authority and he lifted the jacket to reveal his badge and she produced the license..after we dug down through all the bags that were piled on our laps. The police officer took her license and walked away in the pouring rain. Nick realizing this jumps out of the crew cab and sprits down to road to confront the officer and comes back empty handed.

To be contuined....falling asleep again...

"You should have bought a squrill"

You know sometimes when people exagerate in their story telling in order to make a story more entertaining? Well this story isn't like that kind of story. In fact, I may even water it down a bit just so you will believe me!
Our trip to the airport in Raleigh was cake. Esay 15 minute drive from Nick's partents house. ( I won't tell the story about the night before when we got almost hopelessly lost when returning from our trip out to find the long term parking lot.Tom Tom apparently only works if you program the right address into it.)
Our two hour flight to Maimi was easy. We were engaged in deep conversations with a woman who told us how to treat ourselves if we should happen upon and infestion of botflys. She only discovered the remedy after the lavra was removed from under her skin.(Yet another use for duct tape!!) On the same flight was one of Isreal's high school teachers who was headed to Balieze for a jaugar show. It took me quite some time to realize that she was going to see animals and not cars.
Once on the ground in Miami we were glad we had packed sweat shirts after rememhering Nick say that Miami was the coldest airport in the world. If we did not have our above mentioned selection of outer garments we may have been tempeted to ask American Airlines for a blanket.If we had we may have ended up in a really ugly, loud arguement with an airlines employee over the $8.00 fee that would be charged to our credit card. However we would not have had a baby to carry around by the wrist as we argued (loudly) with the said airline employee as did this young mother who was being chared for the blanket. It made the time pass so it was all good. Except that we had more time to pass due to a one hour delay so the plane could get a new air filter.
We were seated next to a woman with a 20 day old baby. The Haitian woman left shortly after the quake and was happily headed home to see her husband, six year old daughter and her extended family.When we arrived at PAP everyting was different than last year. We had waited to leave the plane until everyone else was off in order to help our new friend carry her baby gear into the airport. NOW..you may think this was a cleverly designed scheme to find favor with Haitians and get us to the front of the line. I assure you that that was not my plan. However, that was the result! I felt a bit embarrassed to be brought to the head of the line but not so embarrassed that I didn't do it. At customs I walked through in front of Isreal who was pushing our bags behind me. The customes man asked me something and I said "excuse me" To which he rudly replied "Al'e, Al'e!" Indicatating he had no paitence for my lack of language skills and that I needed to just move on. Great! Only Israel had the bags and when he said to Isreal " What is in the bags?" "Excuse me" Isreal replied. I tured back and said to man "He's with me." and again his reply was "Al'i, Al'i! ( Get out, move on, hit the road Jack) so we did....
My head is nodding as I write this..look for chapter 2 soon when I may or may not get to the "You should have bought a squrill part." Which of course is a quote from a movie. There really is no squrill in this story just in case you are a squrill lover and were hoping for a cute little bushy tale essay on why I don't even like sqruills.
to be continured... btw.. no spell check in haiti

A room.. by any other name.

When we first set foot in our home in 1996 the feeling was instant. We were home. Fifteen minutes later we were signing papers. The house had the "home" feel and just about everything we could want. It did however lack one thing. We wanted one more room so that all of our children had a place to call their own. When we bought our first home up north we had the same problem so we brought in the expert. Digger. My older brother really is amazing in designing and creating spaces. Unlike other contractors Digger did not work 9-5. He just moved in and worked on the job until it was finished. Bathrooms, kitchens, additions..he does it all. So when we desired a new room we knew just who to call.
When Digger arrived I told him I thought a dormer off the back of the house would be the best way to get the desired extra space. He said "Well you could do that but you have an extra room right here." He was looking at my vaulted living room ceiling. He explained how it was just wasted space and he could drop in a floor a lot easier than pushing up the roof and for a lot less money. With that I was sold and the extra room was born.
The room first was Gretchen's. It was not long before she was married and then..I think maybe it was a TV room. After that it was "The children's room" where we stashed the toys and the grandchildren. Then I think it was a guest room. Then Jenny a then 19 yr. old moved in and stayed for ...a few years I think. When she got married I took possession of the room as my "office" but added a daybed for overflow guests.
Recently I have found a new passion for making seaglass jewerly and art. Today I had a new revelation about this room. This "extra room" is my studio. What I realized was the difference between an "office" and a "studio". An office you do work and want to get out of. In a studio you create and can't wait to go back to it. You are allowed in my studio but only if I invite you. I make no apology for the wire or papers or beads or whatever laying around because it is my space and if I want to clean it I will and if I don't want to I wont.
I know everyone is not in the position like me to have an 'extra room' but I hope that everyone can find their little space that is can call to them from their busy life and can absorb them and give them a passion to create.
I am so thankful for my big brother and the extra room he created. I am thankful for all the purposes it has been used for and I am so thankful for this my studio.

Ghost of a Dog

Disclaimer: What you about to read has no foundation in biblical truth. It is just a way to work through a hard day. I am writing for me.

When I stepped out of the tunnel that pulled me dancing toward the light it was not as I expected it to be.I knew I would not see Saint Peter. There was nothing in the Bible that suggested that, just an opener for the jokes I often had heard on earth. I had thought that I would first see Jesus and I would place my crown at His feet, He would put His hand under my downcast chin and bring my face up to meet His gaze and then He would say "Well done my good and faithful servant. Enter into my rest." At least that is what I hoped He would say. I also thought that my mother and grandmother and all those who had gone on before me would be there for my homecoming. But that is not how it was.
What really surprised me was not what I saw but what I heard. It was faint at first and coming from a distance. But as the sound grew closer I knew what it was and who was about to greet me. I opened my eyes and there she was! No longer gaunt and weary but strong and joyous like I remembered her in her earlier days. Not so long ago. She yelped that special bark that said "I am so happy that you are home! I have been waiting all day to see you!" Her tail that had been permanently bent in the closing of the car door was once again straight as it now thumped loudly as her whole being joined in her welcome song. Just as she had done on earth. No matter how bad an earth day had been when I came in the door she was there to make me feel loved and important. Never one time did she raise a snarled lip or offer a low growl. She was always kind hearted...even on earth. She thought the grandchildren were her puppies and protected them. One time putting herself between a one year old toddler and the earthly fish pond to prevent her from falling in. Other times lying directly beside whatever sleeping baby was in the house knowing it was her job to protect and defend. My husband taking her on her evening walks would marvel at the way the old dog would grab his sleve and gently tug on it to say "I'm ready! Let's go!" I would marvel how she could hear his truck from a long way off and come and find me where ever I was in the house and like the famous Lassie dog of yesteryear she would "yip!yip!" and turn and run to the front door.She would continue her request to be let out so that she could greet her master. In the weeks before she left she faded a lot.We knew it was getting closer to her time. My husband made an appointment to have her checked out. I was in the garden with her and she paused to drink from the fish pond. I once again marvelled how the gold fish came right up to her and thought "I need to get a picture of this." An hour later my husband came home. I called down the stairs "What did he say?" He replied "She's gone." "Gone?Where?" I replied. He looked up to me on the stairs where I was waiting and not understanding what he had just said. "Gone!She's gone???!!! What do you mean???" and I sat right there on the steps and cried like child.
She ran in a large circle needing to release some of her pent up excitement then paused by a pond to lap it's cool water as the goldfish rose to her mouth and puckered up as she licked their heads. It was only right that she would be the first to greet me. She was always the first to greet me. Memories of the hard day I had and the long journey I just taken faded as she tugged on my sleeve and pulled me on."Yip, Yip" she barked. It was her special bark. The one that says "Hurry! It's time to go see the Master!" It's good to be home.

What is real? ( A blog that somehow never posted last year)

I am finding that some things are just more 'real' than other things. It is in those real places that I find a deep peace and satisfaction. It is real to pull up raishes in the garden, rinse it off an take a bite. It is real to hold my newest grandchild in my arms and pray over her and then pass her to the next person in the family circle as we all bless her and speak her name and join with her father as he prays for her life. It is real to put out oranges and nuts in the bird feeder and watch them disappear over night. It is real to have goldfish nibble on your fingers in the garden pond.It is even real to watch the egrat circle my home knowing that one of my goldfish may soon be lunch for the hungry bird. It is real to turn over the compost pile and see life squiggle and squirm and retreat from the sunlight.
It is real to feel the smooth seaglass in my hands as I twist the wire and create something that people desire from something that others discarded. It is real to have dirt under my finger nails as afternoon becomes twilight. It is real to go to Target and purchase 900 diapers with money collected in one night and it is real to push into duffle bags. It is real knowing that next week I will see on Face Book these same diapers in the hands of many who have been displaced by the very real earthquake.
I have finally leared, for real, that so much of what we consider important is just not real. In America the complaint "We have nothing to eat." is not real.. Or when we say "I have nothing to wear." or "I have nothing to do."
I don't believe God ever intended for us to be so far removed from reality. Movies and magazines. Over eatting. The pursuit of endless entertainment. In loosing touch with what is real we have lost our ability to understand the world around us.

Just Do It

If you have been reading my blog for any time now you may have noticed that Haiti and her people have been a common topic for me. I know that it is because there is a supernatural calling on my life to "do something". So I am. Where I can, when I can and what I can. This in not to say that other areas of my life are not important but in this season I feel led to speak out often. This is the thing that I know to do.
The other day I was talking to my daughter Gwenn in Haiti about the canister drive that my friend Dennis and I are doing in our area. She said Mom you know what your doing is "guerrilla aid" I knew at once what she was talking about and it felt good. We don't have committees or officers, we don't have bylaws or rules. We know what needs to get done and we do it. As much as I would like to be on the ground in Haiti I know that my work for Haiti is far more important right here, right now. James 4:17 says: "Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn't do it, sins."
It is interesting that "Guerrilla Aid" is a humanitarian aid program. Really the concept puts us the Body of Christ to shame. It seems like the (American) church makes doing good things hard. We beat things to death with our committee meetings and our care to do everything the way it has always been done that we sometimes fail to do the good we know to do. We are always looking for approval and support and we sometimes fail to seize the moment to do what is right.
I am beginning to see how we live in this bubble that keeps us clean. And safe. Who ever said that we would be safe? Being a follower of Jesus is not safe. If it is maybe we need to reconsider how we are living. It is not always safe, or comfortable or pretty.In fact, the opposite is often true.
How is it that I can see the work of Jesus in Barton Brooks, a man who does not publicly claim to be a Christ follower? Why is it that I identify so closely with the work of a secular humanitarian? It is because the word of God is somehow written on his heart. He is doing the things that Jesus has commanded us to do. He is caring for the widows and the orphans in their distress. He sees a need and he goes to meet it. This is what the church should look like. We need to get dirty.
I don't want to step on toes unless of course they need it. The Bible tells us about what the last days will be like. Earthquakes, war, famine, signs in the heavens. (Matt 24:6 You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come. 7Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be famines and earthquakes in various places. 8All these are the beginning of birth pains.) The point of this scripture is not to alarm us but to comfort us and to tell us to be ready. God wants to find us doing the things that He told us to do. And what did He tell us? To care for the widows and the orphans. I think each of us is being called to 'do something'. James 2:14 summed up says "faith without works is dead". Simply to believe is not enough. The evil one, the father of lies, Satan himself is a believer. But he is not a follower of Jesus.
For those of you who remember the 1970s their was a slogan that said "Just do it!" I think it was a Nike ad. Well, I believe today that we could all borrow that slogan. Do the good you know to do. Don't know what you should be doing? The bible tells us to ask for wisdom. That does not mean we have to go off in some room for 40 days with a gathering of counselors to help you decide what 'good' to do. Just a simple "Jesus show me." He will. Then "Just do it."

James 1:27 Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.
James 1:26-27 (in Context) James 1 (Whole Chapter)
Romans 2:12 All who sin apart from the law will also perish apart from the law, and all who sin under the law will be judged by the law. 13For it is not those who hear the law who are righteous in God's sight, but it is those who obey the law who will be declared righteous. 14(Indeed, when Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though they do not have the law, 15since they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them.) 16This will take place on the day when God will judge men's secrets through Jesus Christ, as my gospel declares.
James 2:18 (New International Version)

Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.
James 2:14-18 What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? 15Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. 16If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? 17In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.
18But someone will say, "You have faith; I have deeds."
Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.

Seaglass Christmas

Last week I took a seaglass workshop which was taught by Fran Peel in Manteo the the Dare County Arts Counsel offered. I was excited to get off work on time and didn't miss any of it. My thoughts about working with this art were how much blessing could pour back into Haiti.
The glass was all picked up by my grandchildren (which included the orphaned and abandoned children in my daughter and son in law's home) along a dirty strip of beach in Jacmel, Haiti. I thought that if I could learn this craft then I could go back to Haiti and teach it there allowing for a way for income to be generated in this area. What I didn't know that day was the passion that would be born in me to learn and create and learn and create some more. I have spent countless hours at night sitting at my craft table picking out matching earrings and wrapping wire around glass.
Tonight I decided to try something new. Fran had showed us briefly how to create seaglass nativities. I tried it tonight and was really blessed to see the results. Fran said that the glass selected determines the value of the piece. Well, I really don't know much about what is more valuable. Or really exactly what valuable means.Because really, value is determined but what someone is willing to pay.The value to me is that God can and will take our garbage and make something worthwhile and maybe even pretty from it. But I know that this piece tugs on my heart and I will hate to see it go...but really, it's just a thing. A thing that blessed me to create, will bless someone to buy and give, and will bless the people in a little coastal town in the poorest nation in our hemisphere.