A small hiatus

Hey guys!

So as most of you know, we have made it back to America for a few months of rest. We had a team come in January to help us pack up the house and to help do some survey work out on Dinagat Island. Then they were nice enough to let us travel back to LA with them before they went to Dallas and we went to Memphis. We have seen family and friends and have had the opportunity to tell others about what God is doing in the Philippines while trying to adjust back to winterish weather.

Being back Stateside for a while we may not write as much as we have been. After talking through some of our communications (blog and newsletter), I have decided to trim back how often I post articles here, I'm thinking twice a month for a while.  That being said, I do still want to blog about what is happening in our lives, as often as I get a chance to.

For those of you who we have seen already, hello again! For those of you we will see in the next few months, we are looking forward to it! For those of you we may not have the chance to see, we will still miss you!

Have a good rest of the week.

Christmas in the Philippines

Caroling is popular here. Small mobs of kids walk around singing bad renditions of English Christmas songs.  Most of the time we hear 'We Wish You A Merry Christmas'. They will stand outside of our gate for about twenty minutes singing "we wish you a merry chis-mas, we will you a merry chis-mas, we wish you a merry chis-mas, and a happy new year! Advance merry chis-mas! Advance happy New Year!". This happens every night. Sometimes twice a night, with the same mob. They are begging for money or food. Sometimes they even come up and just say, "Hey, merry Christmas, give me money!".
One night we decided that we would tell kids to come back on Christmas Eve and we would hand out something then. While I was talking with these kids, I asked them what they were wanting. "Bisan unsa" (whatever). What were they going to do with it? "Magdala ko ani sa simbahan" (I'll take it to the church) Wait, the catholic church? Quick nod. Are you catholic? Violent head shake and a loud "dili!" (no). Something tells me they weren't really going to the church....

With that little story we are ushered into the Christmas season in the Philippines. Lights were going up way back in October (no respect for Thanksgiving here either!) and around the middle of November is when the caroling started. As far as we have learned, Christmas may be celebrated by families here, but unless you are Catholic, Christmas is more or less off limits in the church. So there are no decorations or Christmas trees up. No Christmas Eve service is planned, and no Christmas hymns will be sung, for the most part. With our church back in Texas being such a HUGE part of our lives, and with all the Christmas and Advent stuff they have going on even now, it is another big glaring reminder of the cultural differences between the US and the PH.

Another big holiday deal for us is the familial aspect. Even while living in Texas we would be back in Arkansas for Christmas Eve with one grandparent, Christmas morning with another, and Christmas dinner with yet another. The whole two days was spent with family and just hanging out with each other. But now we are here without our families and that is going to be difficult on us this year. I'm sure we will try to video chat with everyone, but it won't be the same.

Now, before anybody reading this thinks we're moping around here, just hold on a moment! We were in a tight spot emotionally a little while ago, but now we are getting back out and about, back on our feet, and everyone is feeling much better. But we still have to be able to make Christmas traditions anew in the face of our new cultural living situation. There are things that we just won't be able to do, like any sort of Christmas light house hunting via car, or eggnog, or ugly Christmas sweaters(we could but we would dehydrate very quickly)!
But we have to, in my mind, do two things with regards to Christmas: the first is make sure that the reason we are wanting to celebrate is more than just cultural or familial tradition and the second is that we need to be able to adapt to what we can do and make family traditions of our own that are not necessarily rooted in all of the American cultural Christmas trappings.

If we are only wanting to celebrate Christmas is because that's what we have done in the past, a tradition, like the Fourth of July, then we have a problem. If it is because we are wanting to praise God for the gift of His Son who came to earth so that He could die for us, then that is something different all together right?

And the traditions that go along with the holiday are important too. Is what we are doing merely an American holiday tradition? Or is it something that is rooted in the biblical story of redemption and the Gospel?

This past week we had a time of worship and fellowship with some other missionaries here and Hollie led a discussion about the theology of the song 'O Come O Come Emanuel' and how it really points to the reality of Christ and the Incarnation and how through Him alone we have the hope that defeats the tyranny of Satan and his dominion of death and hell. Something we need to do as Christians is take our own holiday stuff and check it against the Bible, to see if what we are doing is merely culturally Christian or if it is rooted in the Gospel. If it's not, do we really need it to be an essential part of our Christmas celebration (nice addition maybe but that's about it right?)?
Anyway, Hollie talking about this song reminded me that even an amazing song like that need to be grounded in the biblical story and point us to our hope in Christ.

Isn't that the real reason for the season?

What Makes the Heart Grow Fonder?

We live here in the Philippines. Since you are reading this post, there is a good chance you already knew that. We have been here since the middle of January of this year, and at times it feels like we are just screaming so fast (pas-pas kaayo) through the year. Other times it feels like a single day takes about a month. It's now the middle of August, and we have celebrated all of the girls birthdays, and we are looking forward to being done with our formal language study and moving on to (possibly) moving closer to where we will be working. We are hoping to really focus our energies on training and helping local pastors equip their churches to go and do the work, as the gospel moves, we move with it, helping to train and lead and guide new churches as the Holy Spirit directs us.

Tons of stuff has happened to us, but all of it seems small sometimes. I've shared my fair share of events and adventures here, and Hollie has through the Newsletter and we've both shared on facebook. Here's the thing that everyone knows about moving to a new place: you actually move on. People drift apart, you send fewer and fewer messages to each other, friends that you would have given your left kidney for are harder to get in contact with. It happens. People get busy, they meet new friends, they get wrapped up in the day to day and their life in a new local. The people you leave behind press in to the remaining people surrounding them and they too meet new friends and get pulled into their lives. Family and friends both suffer from the long distance relationship that you have been put in. And while everyone says they will keep in touch, that we will call and talk every weekend, that is almost a nicety, something that sounds hollow because we almost all know that in reality, it's not going to happen.

We've tried to keep in touch, we really have. I (Jeff) have tried to message at least three people from Solid Rock a week, though more often than not it tends to be forgotten. Some of them have been happy accidents, like when Craig Moss's finger fumbled and he video called me. We had a really good talk for like an hour and a half! Hollie has tried to keep in contact as well, and she too has had varying success. Good video calls. Good chats with friends, but no matter how much we talk on facebook messenger or whatsapp, it just doesn't feel like enough.
And we know that it won't be enough, it can't be enough. We (all of us) have invested time into the relationships that we have and wrenching people apart for any reason, much less ministry, makes it difficult and painful to maintain those relationships.

For us though there seems to be an added measure. Since we are missionaries, we are viewed as odd, no odd isn't the right word is it? Outsiders? Super-Christians? Hmm...well, regardless of what the word actually is, feeling we get is that we are different. In some ways we are. Most American families live in America, they have "normal" jobs and their kids don't have to learn another language just so they can play with the neighborhood kids. But we are still very similar in quite a few crucial ways. We still have problems, we still have struggles, we still have trials and temptations. We have the responsibilities to help care for our brothers and sisters in Christ. We also have a normal life here: We get up and have breakfast, do our work, hang out with our kids, go shopping, run errands, deal with jerks in traffic. We still need Christian community. We still need encouragement and prayer, and we need to be able to encourage and pray for our church family back home. While I know for a fact that we do indeed get that support from our church, it is hard to give that support back. When we message people asking about how they are doing and what things they need prayer for they seem confused. 'Why would I need prayer compared to you?' We had quite a few people who actually said things like "Me? Shouldn't I be praying for you?" Of course! But we are still family, still people who were created for community. And foreign missions is sometimes very lonely. For as much as I want to think that I can go alone with just my family, I know it's not true. I need community, I need to not only get support from brothers and sisters, I need to be able to give it.

I'm not trying to shame anyone with this. I'm not trying to make anyone upset. All I am saying is we miss you guys. We want to know what's going on in your lives, even if it is all happening half a world away. We want to be able to pray for you here, and tell our Local Family ways they can pray for our Stateside Family, ways they can lift you guys up with us. Trust me, we want to help you carry your burdens just as much as we want to share our own with you. We want that communication, we want the late night video calls or the early morning message marathons. So don't feel like you don't want to burden us with your problems, go ahead and write those long emails, snail mail, carrier pigeon, bisan unsa (what ever)!

Cebuano or Bust!

So this week we had a conversation with our fantastic language teacher, Ate Mimi. We spoke about how much of the program we had left and how we can try to ramp up the intensity to really drive home the learning and acquisition of the language that will be so important to our later ministry here. It's hard to believe that we've been here for six months! But with that comes the official end of our language learning. Mimi would like us to have been going out after class to practice what we learned and to ask cultural questions. This would have been great, but with the kids and the exhausting nature of trying to think in another language for three+ hours a day, we simply couldn't do it often enough.

We are keeping a tally of who speaks more English for "fun"

Into the fracas of the final month of language steps Hollie. She has a brilliant idea to force us to speak Cebuano in class, and if we use English, we pay a peso into a jar (this money will be used for an ice cream party...eventually), if we try to "Cebuanoize" English (perfectly valid use of language skills) but we were supposed to know the actual word in Cebuano, peso in the jar.
In just one week we have put almost twenty pesos away, but we have had good experience forcing us to think and speak and explain ourselves, all in Cebuano.
Our typical class has been transformed into a coffee-shop of Cebuano speakers, and it is fantastic. Normally we would have to listen and try to explain what we heard in English, but now we have to explain in Cebuano, stretching our vocabulary and our comprehension skills in delightful ways. Our grammar (read Jeff"s) is improving, and overall, I think this final section of study will be really productive!

A Walk On The Sun

Last Wednesday I was informed that someone we've worked with here was making a trip out to Dinagat for a quick visit to look at some options for our upcoming summer team and talk with our connection out there about the work.
Quick questions were asked quickly:
"When are you going?"
"Tomorrow, we going to stay in the port city before heading out"
To Hollie, "What do you think about me taking Sophia?"
"Don't you think it would be good for her?"
"Why can't we all go together?"
To Sophia, "Would you like to go tomorrow?"
"Why can't we all go together?"
"Can Aaryn come with us?"
"Do we even have enough money for this trip?"
You get the point.
We decided that Sophia would go with me, so we quickly packed a bag for her and with a lot of questions (and worries) on our minds, we went to sleep so that right after language class we could book it to the bus terminal.
We made it to Surigao a few hours later and after resting in our hotel room for a bit Sophia and I went out to get some pizza at a well worn spot to SRC teams.
That next morning after breakfast Sophia got to board her very first ferry for her very first boat ride out to Dinagat.
She had some snacks, took a nap, walked around outside seeing the water and smaller islands before we made it to Tubajon. We unloaded our bags and went right away to looking at the housing options we had before us for our team this summer. After a good bit of walking and looking we went back to where we were staying and had dinner.
Since Sophia is a puting babae (white girl) she drew a crowd of other kids quick. Anybody who knows Sophia knows that she is extremely social. So when a huge group of kids are around basically just to see her, she is lit up and going. She pulls out her books to share with everyone, tries to play Go Fish with a few of them, all the while conscious that she doesn't have enough to share with everyone. It was really awesome to see how she wanted to interact with the kids, even with some shyness and hesitation because of the language barrier.
Right before dinner we were told that we would be having a cottage prayer and that I, the illustrious and wise missionary (funny right?) would be giving the devotional. Panicking I did what most people try to do in that situation: just use what God has been teaching them recently from their devotional time. So real quick devotional was written off of Romans 3 and then dinner and then boom! off to the cottage prayer meeting. It was a good time for Sophia to see a tiny bit of village worship, in a small house, with people who spoke almost no English. She fell asleep at least once during the prayer!
Good times.
The next day was the big day. Dagat nga adlaw. Beach day. We got ready and I made sure that she brought her hat, water and that I had the little tube of sunscreen for her.
We got onto a large fishing boat and traveled about an hour to a rocky beach. While the other adults were snorkeling I was hanging out with Sophia and two village kids that came with us.
Never in my life have I seen that little girl have so much fun! She was jumping and yelling at the crabs and climbing rocks and looking for new pet snails.
We splashed around for about an hour before getting back on the boat to go to another beach for lunch. I noticed that she was a little sunburned from the morning so I reapplied sunscreen and then we had lunch and played in the ocean for about another two hours or so.
I noticed that she was starting to turn pink, then red, so I had her come out of the sun and try to rest. She did for a bit but was back out in the water not long after sitting down.

After I finally got her to sit down for a good bit of time, Pastor Arnel had gone spearfishing and caught a clown fish, which every Filipino calls nimo (ha!) and showed it to Sophia. She was thrilled to be seeing and handling wildlife and demanded that her new fish be put into a bowl so it wouldn't die (even though it had a hole sticking straight through it) and asked for Arnel to capture some friends for the fish. So he speared two more clown fish to be friends that would sadly, all die together. She was able to take the fish back to where we were staying and while I was helping her to get her stuff ready to change her clothes I noticed that her sunburn was really deep red and that man, she was not going to be comfortable, so I made sure that she was in just an undershirt and shorts while hanging out. 

As the fish finally started to die from their wounds some of the kids went back to the ocean and caught other friends for Sophia. She got to see a baby sea turtle (that's right, a flippin' BABY SEA TURTLE!!) and a seahorse. She wisely had the kids put them back into the ocean. 

I needed to walk to a tindahan (small storefront) put some money on my phone and I wanted her to go with me, and as soon as we started walking then she started talking about how she felt nauseas and turned pale, all the red draining from her face. 

She sat down on the side of the street saying that she needed to sit down and then just bent over and threw up everywhere. I quickly took her back to where we were staying and had her drink some water and lay down, finally able to get all the kids out of there so that she could rest. And rest she did, she slept from that moment (about 4.30 or so) until 6 that next morning. As I sat there with her I went back over the day and realized that every time I had asked her to take a drink of water is was a quick sip and she was back into the sun. The sun. That big ball of burning gas, which gets closer to the earth the closer one gets to the equator. The equator, basically where she played in the ocean. The ocean, one giant mirror, reflecting the burning rays of the giant burning ball of gas. All of that, mixed with her playing for hours on end with little rest and very little water meant that she dehydrated herself and (unknown fully to me then) got one of the worst sunburns I have ever seen. She was weak and tired when she finally woke up the next morning. Knowing she was dehydrated I made her drink water, not too fast, not too slow, to try to replace the fluids she lost the previous day.

Then it was about time for us to go back and get on the boat back home. Unfortunately, we had to go to another village, Tubajon doesn't run ferry service on Sundays. Which meant that we were taking a motorcycle. So, with no helmets, we mounted the iron horse and rode the thirty minutes or so to the next village where we were able to get on the ferry an hour before it left port. 

She seriously slept three and a half hours getting back to Surigao. Then once on the bus, she slept more. All the while horrible blisters were forming under her clothes, and her second degree burn on her shoulders worsened. When we finally made it home, she had blisters on her face that had burst, three huge ones on her shoulders and probably 75-100 little ones spread out on her shoulders and back. 

Her shirt had to get cut off of her, no way of getting that off without ripping and tearing skin. When all of what happened to our little girl was visible to us both, anger and tears and shame started. 

Hollie and Ate Mimi took her to the doctor where she got a prescription for antihistamine, burn ointment, and an antibiotic to help with itching, the burn and squash any infection. Her shoulders still look bad, really bad. But in just one day of wearing the medication and gauze we can see how her small body is healing.*

With all the pain that she is in, with the very visible suffering that she is going through and the circumstances around it, we started to doubt, started to question. The Philippines is not America guys. Its not a different part of America that's further south and out in the ocean like Hawaii. In many ways I felt just how different the Philippines is from America over the weekend. I felt hindered by local transportation, local medicine, local thoughts on sunburn (a lot of villagers acted as if it was something they rarely saw for some reason), and over all, the language barrier that kept me from being able to try to help her, to express frustrations to certain people, to communicate basic needs adequately.

What were we doing here? Why did this happen? Why did I even make that stupid trip out there to Tubajon? If this amount of damage can be done in one day, should we be here, risking the safety of our kids? Is this, what we are doing or attempting to do, something that the wellbeing of our kids is worth jeopardizing? Honestly, they didn't even sign up to go with us! They had no say in us packing up everything and leaving their friends and their family to move to a place that is hot and uncomfortable, to have their little lives turned upside down! And for what exactly? What were we doing here that made all of this so important that even though it sucks and is painful to watch our daughter go through this, knowing that it is partly my fault, for not putting adequate sunscreen on her, to even moving here in the first place? 

The Gospel. 

It's just that simple.

Being able to see the Gospel shine forth in the darkest part of the Philippines, to see people's eternal destiny secured in God's Hand, to see the Gospel of grace and forgiveness pour out from strengthened local churches to areas where they have literally never heard that it is by faith alone, through grace alone, for the sake of Christ alone that we can even be saved. That is why we are here. So we take that risk. We put everything that we have, including our children, into the Hands of God and say "I know that only you can keep all this safe, you take it!" 

So right now sucks. Right now we can't even hug Sophia without fear of ripping skin off of her body. We have to watch as the girl who normally is so active just sit there, calmly, watching the t.v. not even trying to be....Sophia! 

So please pray for us, pray that Sophia's body would heal quickly so she can get back to being herself again. Pray also for strength for Hollie and I as we face the devil and his schemes as we press in to the work that we are called to do. Pray for our marriage, because we can feel the strain of living here and working here, and we want your support in that, we earnestly desire that. But also pray for those Filipinos we will be working with more intently over the next few years, pray that hearts are softened and the churches are strengthened and the Gospel is preached and that we will find our proper place within God's work here in the Philippines.

*That was at the first time of writing this, almost a full week ago now. Her skin is devoid of any blister and she has mostly finished peeling. She has quite a bit of bright red new skin that we have dubbed her dragon skin, which will probably peel too. Her energy and same crazy-outgoing-driving you-up-the-wall personality is back full swing. Thank you all so much for your continued prayers!

Visas,Flights, and Mice (Oh my!)

This has been a pretty busy week for us. Being that we have been here almost exactly one month that means one thing: our tourist visas are expiring. When we where flying out of LAX we found out that we had to have a residency visa already since we had one way tickets, this meant that we needed flights booked so we could leave the Philippines , just to enable us to enter it to begin with! Brian Lamb and Jordan Martin got us set up (thanks again guys!), and so we had tickets booked for when our tourist visas expired going to Hong Kong and back, which is something a lot of missionaries do here to avoid the expense of a long term visa. So this week I had the responsibility of getting our tourist visas extended while we start working on getting our long term visas done and rebooking our flights. Monday morning I went early(ish) to the airport so that I could get to the airline counter and change the flights, all going like clockwork until he needed the passports to make photocopies of them. Oops, left them at home because (for some stupid reason) I figured that they would have all our passport numbers and info right in front of them when they pulled up our flight. They did have that, but the guy wanted copies of them for some reason or another. So get on a taxi back home, get all five of the buggers and get a taxi back to the airport. Get the process going again and....that counter doesn't take cards, cash only. The rebooking of the flights was about 35 thousand pesos (about $700), and we were just not able to get that much cash on hand quickly. So I had to get on another taxi and go back into town to another airline office. This time no taxis were there, except one guy who knew he had me. I was flustered, getting tired, and just trying to not have to get on a plane on Thursday, and somehow, he saw pesos signs over my eyes because dude got me for a "special trip" into town for 200 pesos, should have been at most, 20 and man I knew that but I just didn't care at that point.

So I finally get to the other office, and there is this older British fellow yelling at the ladies behind the counter about a flight that he had booked that was canceled without him knowing or being told about it a week before the flight was scheduled to happen and he and his brother showed up at the airport to find out that they should have been notified by someone about the cancellation. He was understandably upset about the whole thing, and taking it out on the girls behind the counter about people lying to him. Half an hour later, when he had finally left, I got up there, tried to be as nice and polite as I could, got the flight set up, and when the lady looked at our passports she added some special Philippine something or other blah blah tax (200 bucks). Why? Because our visas were expiring, so we needed to assure the government that we would not be illegal immigrants when we returned to the country. Fine. Whatever. I will trudge over to the Immigration office and see if I can get that taken care of quickly. Luckily the office was not very far. I got there and the lady behind that counter, well her eyes got very big when she saw how many passports I had (obviously not just one, but five) and told me that she needed applications filled out, pictures of all of us and almost 16 thousand pesos. Defeated, I walked out with the feeling that I did not have a whole lot of time to get all this done. So I got on a taxi and on my way home the taxi stopped right in front of a computer store that I needed to go into to see if they could take a look at our computer real quick.

Our teacher Mimi let us out of class early that day so we could go to one of the malls here and get some pictures made. With the cash in hand, the applications more or less filled out, and the pictures we all went over to the Immigration office and it was closed for the day. So we walked on down the street a bit and tried a Chinese chain restaurant here (spoiler: it was delicious).

I was up and out by 8.30 that next morning with Sophia and Rosie with all of the aforementioned paraphernalia in the last ditch attempt to get our visas extended and our flights rebooked. 20 minutes after getting there BOOM all five of us had extended visas! Out on the street and a few minutes later we were back in the airline office trying to get that done. It was a slow process, and Sophia (of course) was best friends with the other lady behind the counter before we were done. Because of when our extended visas expired we could not book the flight for when we wanted unless we payed that blah blah tax, which I had no plans of doing. Ok, so the middle of March? Fine. 3.5% for card use? Fine. BOOM! REBOOKED! Oh what's that a recap? Sure. Then the bomb drops, after being led to believe that we would fly from Butuan to Manila and Manila to Hong Kong all in one day (total I think its like 4 hours in the air) I'm told that oh no, we have a 22 hour layover in Manila.....and oh yeah, it would cost roughly $200 more to move it one day, even though I would never have paid for that otherwise. no refunds, no rebooking "I'm sorry I messed up" coupon, accept it or pay.

We are going to try to use that day in Manila to get our residency visas done...maybe.
But I was able to get it all done. Barely.

Wondering about the "mice" from the title? The other night one of the girls new friends rolled up to our house holding something and it turned out she was holding a little baby mouse. It was so new it's eyes were still closed. Sophia and Aaryn got to hold the mouse, and it was duly passed around to all the kids, multiple times, and it died that night, in front of everyone (the nerve of some mice) and the kids simply through it in the field across the street.

Oh my.

And the ants go marching on

So, as many of you who are following our little adventure know, we have ants here. They are in our house. They are pretty much wherever they want to be in our house, whenever they want to be there. We will be walking through the house, or the girls will be going up stairs, or we will be sitting down to eat, or going to the bathroom, or sitting and watching Hi-5 (Australian Disney show) and we will look up and see a red line of terror winding it's way down the wall, to the floor, to wherever there is any small crumb that was missed sweeping or recently dropped by a two year old. Gang, these little dudes are hard to kill. Not only will they scoot their line a few inches from where we just sprayed and continue their march of perpetuity, they are like Texas fire ants, but without the long burn. We have been told by another missionary family here that the battle against this foe is never won, never finished.
Now hear me: I do not mean to complain, God has blessed our family with an awesome house, and the insect issue could be worse (much, much worse; think flying two inch roaches worse). This is just part of being here in the Philippines. In a way, it could be viewed as a sort of odd bonding experience that God is using to show our family that we fight whatever biting, stinging issues that trail into our family, and we do so together, warning each other and helping each other out. Maybe this is a team building exercise for us. Maybe this is a metaphor for spiritual warfare. Maybe God will use the ants to push us to make connections to find out local ways of dealing with them (we've been told pouring gasoline around the outside of your house daily is effective)Or maybe it's just ants 😁. Any way we slice it, God is good, and even if the flying roaches decide to invade our house, we will *try* to praise God, even when they decide to bite.

Hello Humility

Pride. It's sneaky and sly and sneaks up behind you waiting to snare you when, and where, you least expect it.

This isn't the first time that I've lived overseas, away from all things familiar. This isn't the first time that I've lived in a developing country. This isn't the first time that I've been emersed in a different language and culture. And because this isn't my first time, I thought that I was prepared and knew what to expect. I thought that I would settle in without the slightest bit of culture shock and just adapt to the new way of life that I was anticipating. Little did I know, but that I've-got-this mentality was Pride, slowly tightening it's grip.

And then it happened. I was asked to cook a meal and host people in my new home. Any one who knows me, knows that I like to cook for people. And those who REALLY know me, know that I act like I don't like hosting, but deep down, I love it. The pressure (that I put on myself) to make things perfect for our guests, the fast pace in the kitchen and calculated timing to make sure each dish is hot and ready at the appropriate time, and of course the suspense, waiting to see if I get the house clean on time (of if I'll be throwing things in the the closet at the last minute to get them out of sight)...in a way hosting is like an action packed thriller. Not only do I secretly enjoy it, but if I were being really and truly honest, I'd say it is something that it is one of the few things that I think that I am good at.

So we've been in our new home in the Philippines all of two and a half weeks, and I'm trying to host new friends, and apparently Humility would be joining us for dinner.

I started with my usual routine, exactly like I would have done it in America. Step 1: Plan the meal. I chose one of our favorites. It is something I used to make all the time in the States, one of the girls favorites, and super easy, because why stress myself out with something complicated, right?! Crock-Pot Chicken Tacos.
Step 2: Grocery shop. I made my list for things and was pretty sure we'd be able to find everything. Chicken, check. Seasoning, check. Onions and bell peppers, check and check. Cheese? Um, well, you don't technically need that. Tomatoes? Really? No tomatoes? Okay...get canned ones at the import store. Tortillas? I was pretty sure I could make those. I mean, its basically just flour and water, right?
Step 3: Cook and clean simultaneously. What's that horribly shrill sound? Oh, that's just Rosie demanding to be held...every. single. second. Long story short, we were going with the 'lived in' look for the kitchen and living room. And as for cooking, I don't know if you've ever made homemade tortillas, on a gas burner with basically only one heat setting, while trying to also feed a screaming baby. Maybe you have and you rocked it. I rocked it also...if rocking it means making tortillas that are as hard as rocks. Ok, so tortillas were off the menu. It was ok though, because chicken tacos without tortillas is still Mexican chicken, and Jeff found canned black beans at the import store! But it didn't take long to realize that for canned black beans, I would need a can opener, which I did not. So it was time for another menu change, but too late to go to the store or market for more food.

It was about that time that panic set in. What would these new friends think of me? A wife that couldn't keep the house clean. A mother of 3 children that looked like they were being raised in the Philippine jungle by bearcats...dirty faces, wild hair, no pants, and uncontrollable crying. A hostess that couldn't prep a decent meal for her guests. That's when Humility came knocking at the door.

I'm not sure who invited Humility to my own personal pity party, but (as painful as it was) I sure am glad. Humility came with a reminder. 'Remember when you were sitting with Jeff, across from Nic Hill, at your kitchen table in Fort Worth and he said, "it doesn't matter what I think or what anyone else thinks." Remember that you aren't here so that people can think well of and make much of you. You are here to make much of God."

Pride is an ugly beast waiting around to snare us, but it's like the monster in Frankenstein. It is a monster that I created, when I started trying to make much of myself instead of trying to make much of God, and it has come back to destroy me. Thankfully though, Humility came as a messenger to remind me of my place, and that I have a Savior who will and has rescued me.

That Savior is Jesus Christ. All my failures and weaknesses are made so completely obvious in light of His perfection and strength. He is why I am here.

Lately when Sophia and I are doing homeschool, I've been telling her to do her best work, not to make herself look good, but to glorify the Lord. It's a lesson that I need to remember. In all things, in the States and overseas, my goal needs to be to glorify the Lord.

"So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all for the glory of God." 1 Corinthians 10:31 ESV

I bought a fan!

We have been here in the Philippines for almost two weeks, and during that time we have had to make a few big purchases, like Hollie buying a couch/chair set, and us buying a washer the day we landed. We have, for the most part, set up our house how we need it. One thing to know about the Philippines is that it is hot and humid here. Being close to the equator, that makes sense, but when you come from a temperate climate with central AC and it's winter when you are moving to a tropical island when it's the rainy season and you only have two little aircons in the entire house....you notice the change in the heat and you feel that humidity.
So I did something about it. I bought a fan. That simple sentence might not seem like much, but for anyone who has experienced this kind of humidity, that oscillating cool breeze is like a godsend.

2017: The Year of F.O.A.M.

So it is officially the first of January. A New Year. People are making their resolutions and trying to improve themselves and "turn over a new leaf" and all of that. But for us, we are not really worried about our leaves or what side is facing up. We are more concerned with what will be taking place within the next few weeks.........
In a week, on January 8, I (Jeff) will be getting ordained by our sending church, SRC. Our entire family is also being commissioned, so the entire day is going to be HUGE in terms of the spiritual encouragement that we will be getting before we fly out, which is the next thing. Our flight leaves on January 17. That is sixteen days from when I am writing this. In sixteen days my wife and I will be taking our three small children on a plane for the very first time, with (almost) all our worldly possessions in about five checked bags to fly across the ocean, around the world, leaving the U.S. and moving our entire lives to the Philippines. So prayer is needed. For sanity, for our kids, who have been having a hard time with this whole transition. We have moved out of our apartment, about two weeks ago, and have been staying with family until we fly out. Our poor girls have had to say goodbye to friends, watch the house they have been living in for the past three years empty out, not have any stability or know where they will sleep next (we do, so don't worry) so they have all made themselves sick with the moving, constant travel, and all the business of the holidays on top of it! Whew! Ok, I think that is enough of the freak out.
So this is the year that we finally go overseas. This is the year that we finally see the hard work put in by everyone at our church who has been working on this with us to see what God is going to do with us in the Philippines. This is the year of our Family On A Mission, living out the work that God has given us and our church to take His Gospel to the ends of the earth, may God give us His grace and mercy and strength as we transition from what we have known and been comfortable with to the unknown and putting more and more trust and faith in Him, our God, who deserves all praise and glory. Happy New Year.

Summertime

It is Memorial Day, the first day of summer, and one of the first hot days here in Texas. It reminds me that I am not in school. I now do not have to be in class at 7 in the morning, I no longer have tests to study for, I no longer have homework to be busy about, seemingly ignoring my family.
But the summer reminds me that fall is soon approaching, October/November feels like it`s right around the corner. I do not feel ready for the fall! There is training to complete, passports to purchase, still more stuff to sell, pack, and ship, language still needs to be learned. Decisions about where to live, what to take for the new house, what to get rid of, what to keep for when we return, and so much more! Not only that, there is still money to raise, still more connections within our church we need to make, still more books to read, and of course, still another Rathbun baby to be born!
Needless to say, God has a lot in store for us this summer, and while it is going to be exhausting, and very very time consuming, I know that it is going to be a fantastic adventure that God is preparing to send us on and I know that i speak for all the Rathbuns when I ask for your prayers as the summer gets going. That we will make sure to work hard to get ready, but that we would not forget to take the time to maintain our times with God in the Bible and prayer.

Me and my Bike

I ride a bicycle to work. Nothing fancy, just an older Specialized Allez that desperately needs some love and attention. I have been commuting for about five years, ever since we found out that Hollie had a Bun in her oven. I started out on a borrowed mongoose mountain bike of sorts and that was painful and slow and so very heavy. After doing some research I found out that on a part-time retail salary with a baby on the way, good bikes were not cheap. So instead of doing the sensible thing and save up some money while suffering on the 'goose, I jumped the gun and purchased a heinous hybrid from Walmart that was very unfortunate in every. single. aspect. of. bike-ness. As soon as I was able to return that to the store I was on my way to our lbs to see their selection of used  bikes. And there it was. A used, dull grey Specialized Allez. A real road bike, even with the fancy break/gear shifting setup, not like a mountain bike at all (nothing against mountain bikes, fyi)! So I started riding that bike. I named it "Theodore" after one of my favorite historical people: TR. I rode TR through the rain, snow, humid Arkansas summer, all the time. I love this bike. I used to get up early on Saturday mornings and ride for 25 miles early enough where if I had to work I would have enough time to get ready.

 

This....is not my bike

When we moved to Texas it was summer, and that means one thing: triple-digit heat. No shade. No breeze. Nothing except the gigantic ball of fire roasting everything. So I did not ride that summer. Theodore was neglected and alone in a closet. I had an on-campus job and so I did not ride much to work, every once and a while I did but a short five minute ride was not that exciting.
That all changed when I changed jobs. My current place of employment is almost five miles from our house, so I ride all the time to work now, well, at least I try to. About a month after I started there I had a pretty bad bike wreck. A car almost hit me and as I tried to take more of the lane (after they passed of course) my front wheel caught in a crack and I flew over the handlebars. Bending some stuff on the bike, my head bouncing on the pavement, I (think) tore a ligament in my hand, giving me "hammer finger". Bleeding profusely from my knees, realizing that I could have been ran over while lying in a normally busy street during morning rush hour, I picked up my battered bike, slung my bag over my shoulder and hobbled the rest of the way to work. Two months later I was able to ride again, my hand was mostly healed and my knees now have this weird calcified pointy parts that I'm told will go away eventually.
Despite the fact that I have been almost hit more times than I can count, and actually been in two bike accidents (both while commuting to work) I love riding my bike. When we move to the Philippines, I will hand Theodore over to my parents to keep him until we come back (thanks mom and dad!), this makes me sad, but knowing that the Gospel is worth giving things up for, and knowing that God and His Church need to be built up and His fame and glory spread, and that He has called us to be apart of His mission, I would drop Theodore in a dump and never look back if it would help bring others to know of the immeasurable love and grace that our God has lavished upon us through the Cross.

I have no idea what I'm doing...

As the title suggests, I have no idea what I'm doing. Right now I should be studying. I am in seminary (for those who may not know, that's theological grad school) and this semester I am taking only six hours, just two classes. But oh those classes! 7 AM Systematic Theology and 8.30 AM Philosophy of Religion, brain-stretchingly brutal classes compounded that they are so early in the morning....so I have homework. I should be reading right now about the Kalam cosmological model, but I am not. Why?
For multiple reasons, thank you for asking.
1. While I like William Lane Craig as a philosopher, he is pretty wordy and (hrmm hrrm) long winded.
2. My wife and I started this blog and I have not really been contributing to it.
3. Ok, so there are really just two.
So I am taking classes (did I already say that? ok, moving on...) and I work full-time. This means that I am busy and rarely home. This makes me sad, but in a way, it is almost bitter sweet. How, you ask? You are full of good questions today! Today when I got home from work my girls were all outside and when they saw me ride up they literally shrieked for joy. That was nice. But because they hardly get to see me, I miss out on some pretty important things.
Proverbs 22:6 says "Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it." And Ephesians 6:4 says "Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord."
Now regardless of how one interprets the second part of the verse from Proverbs on a child not turning from the way they were brought up, the point is clear from both verses: parents (fathers, more specifically) need to be about the business of training their children.
But training in what? How?
This is the part where the title of the post starts ringing true. I have no idea what I'm doing as a dad. I suspect that nobody else does, or if they do, they are hiding it really well.
We as dads tend to have these lofty ideas about what family discipleship looks like. It probably takes place after dinner or early in the morning. Children are summoned and they come running down the stairs like it's Christmas morning because they know that Dad is about to impart some wicked awesome biblical knowledge and wisdom. The entire family gathers round to hear Dad reading a passage from the Bible (somehow like James Earl Jones) and everyone is alert and attentive, even the 18 month old. The Mom sings a hymn and the Dad breaks down the passage, just like your favorite preacher, wise commentary from the children surprises everyone, then Dad leads in solemn and respectful prayer, and then everyone hugs and someone busts out a game of jacks or a guitar or something.
This is some horrible lie out of the Christian Leave it to Beaver.
I have a four year old and an 18 month old, both girls. They fight and squabble over toys, or personal space, or breathing air. This happens. Constantly. That mixed with what little time I have to give them, it just feels easier sometimes to not have a family Bible study time.
But all that is just excuses isn't it? I still have an obligation, biblically mandated, to lead my family, to train my children to love and serve God.
Psalm 127:3-5 says "Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are the sons born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them. They will not be put to shame when they contend with their enemies in the gate."
Obviously I don't have sons. But I think the passage is still pretty powerful as a picture of how children are important, especially for the Gospel, nevermind the so-called "culture-wars". Children, like arrows, need to be made, crafted, carefully and purposefully tuned and turned and made to fly straight so that when loosed, the arrow/child reaches it's desired target. I need to be making my arrows sharp and ready to contend in the gates of life with the Enemy. This is important not just for me, but for them and the future of the Church and the spread of the Gospel.
But how in the world do I go about doing this?
Deuteronomy 6:7 says "Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up." This seems pretty straight-forward: talk about the Bible, all. the. time. Whenever you are with your kids, whether going on a trip to the grocery store, hanging out at home, before you go to bed, after you get up in the morning. Colossians 4:6 says "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone." This general admonition is perfect when thinking about how to approach teaching the Bible to children. It needs to be the flavoring of our conversations, so that what we say will not be flat, bland, and worthless. But since the law of the Lord is like honey (Psalm 18:10), it needs to be the sweetener to our speech.
Moreover, we simply need to make the time for this if we deem it to be important. That is probably my biggest hang up right there. Do I really believe all of this? Do I really feel the importance of the Gospel, salvation and training for my girls? Do I really feel the urgency? (honest time) More often than not, no. But we still need to set aside the time, as we read and think and discuss, even for a brief few minutes the Bible with our family, our minds will be transformed and conformed to the mind of Christ, God willing. For this transformation to take place, we need to be in the Word.
So how do we go about having a family devotional time? I don't remember where (or else I would cite the source, it was good!) but I read an article about family devotions and it went something like this: set aside time, which ever works best for your family's schedule, then pray, read a few verses from the Bible, and make some comments, ask some questions, answer questions, pray again. Done! It does not have to be perfect or "churchly". It needs to be done. Yes, your kids will want to be doing something else. Yes, you may not "have the time" to do them daily. Yes, you will miss days. Yes, you will have fighting kids, screaming and possibly crying. That is life. We cannot let those be setbacks to training our children in the ways of righteousness. To make those inevitable events in the course of everyday life an excuse to not do something vitally important to the spiritual health of your family is cowardly and shows that we are weak and do not really want to lead our families.

So I want to issue a challenge to the (few) dads who may read this. If you have the Youversion Bible app on your phone (tablet, computer, smart phone, whatever), pick a devotion that is just reading the Bible, nothing fancy, it can be as long or as short as you want. I don't think devotional content is needed, but whatever, your choice. But pick one that has the readings in short(ish) passages, depending on the ages and attention span of your kids, and simply go through it. It can take five minutes, it can take fifteen. But make a commitment to sit down with your family and try to read the Bible together and talk about it.