Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts. Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar: And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.  Also I heard the voice of the Lord, saying, Whom shall I send, and who will go for us? Then said I, Here am I; send me.      Isaiah 6:5-8

I’ve been meaning to get this entry out for days, but time has simply flown.

What happened to our family, at least the superhero and the oldest, while away in Belize?   Well, one of the signs of a move of God was when we sat down to prepare a Bible study for our 13-14 year old Sunday school class this past week.   As I’ve mentioned before, we often use our homeschool science projects to teach scriptural truths.   Perhaps the biggest hit yet was the 20-foot geyser out of Mentos and diet Coke, which we used to kick off our Power Lab-themed VBS session.   Because of the average kid in our class, our goals have been about both spiritual and academic enrichment.   My husband wanted to share the pictures of Belize with the kids as a part of this month’s lesson.   I had my worries regarding how long that would hold their attention without a verbal scrimmage, but okay, it’s a start.   We were continuing to toss around ideas about how to expand the pictures into an hour-long lesson that would hold the kids’ interest, what experiments to consider, how to involve the kids, etc., when the oldest walked up and laid out the entire Bible study for us.      “Dad, talk about apprehension,” she said.   “Start with Moses, then talk about Gideon, and tell them about our fears.”    The kids loved it, and I had to laugh at my superhero, who kept referring to himself as a missionary (another move of God).   As a bit of background, he didn’t even want to go! (You can find that story here).    His presence was solely because of our daughter, and the fact that the Children’s Pastor was thrilled with the idea of a man tagging along.  

Here was a summary, in photo form, of what he was able to share:

Safe and On the Ground

With the rest of the Team

In the living quarters

 (So that this entry actually becomes more than a draft at some point, I did not go back and upload the outdoor shower that was originally a part of the living quarters until the indoor one was installed, nor did I post the photos of crabs and iguana--all-too-regular visitors to the kitchen and bedroom areas).

As a brief Belizean history moment, this country is immediately south of Mexico and just Northwest of Guatemala.   It is one of the few that the Spanish abandoned, perceiving that there was no gold in the area.   The British then claimed it as a part of their empire.  Consequently, unlike most of the countries in this area, English is the primary language.   The people are an eclectic and beautiful mix of a variety of cultures:   there are Mestizos, descendants of the Mayan Indians and the Spanish setters.   There are Kriols, descendants of African slaves and British settlers.   There are Garifunas, also descendants of African slaves and Amer-Indian descendants who've escaped from Honduras.   There is a significant population of German Mennonites and Chinese in the area (I'll have to study more on that part of the country's history), as well as smaller constituencies of various ethnicities.   I thought that lesson in culture might make the following pictures even more meaningful.

Time to Worship

Time to Teach

The neighborhood Wal-Mart

...and the Neighborhood

My husband says that an average of 20 kids per day came to give their lives to the Lord.    This was our heart's greatest joy, and the shot below became my husband's laptop screensaver.

So, now home again, we didn’t all get to share in the experience, but I think I can safely say that all of our lives were changed forever.  Incidentally, this was my favorite picture.   The oldest, a decidedly picky eater, made the most of the peanut butter and crackers, cereal, Nutrigrain bars, etc., packed in her suitcase in case she couldn't stomach the Belizean cuisine.   During one night of the trip, she and the rest of the team visited a resort hotel before a day off, and this was the sole picture she took of the resort:

 ROFLOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you're a regular reader of this blog, this article might seem somewhat redundant.   But, the sea turtles are too cute to miss!   Enjoy them, and my words of encouragement, here. 

Today has been totally lazy, although there is much to do.  We have our “official” start of school on tomorrow, and I have all the excitement and trepidation of a new year.   I think my energy level has been reflective of the weather outside—dreary and wet.    Given that our electric bill was a whopping $400 on last month, I’ve been trying to conserve by using the oven once with as much packed in as I can rather than lighting it each time the children want to bake, each time I cook a meal, etc.   Blueberries have been on sale for the last few weeks here, so we started with blueberry muffins and turkey sausage, and a blueberry cobbler for dessert this evening.

 The last few weeks have been a blur.   My superhero and the oldest arrived safely from their missions trip to Belize on last Saturday evening, with bites from mosquitos, biting flies, rashes, and all.   For a while, the house had this outrageous buzz: everyone wanted to tell everyone else about what transpired “while you were gone.”   I think our two missionaries were just happy to be indoors with all the comforts of home.   I’ll post separately about their trip, as I couldn’t get my daughter to post to her blog about her week.   As an aside, she gave up her blog, which bothered me more than it bothered her.   However, she did it in the name of managing her time better, and I have to learn to back off and let her learn certain life skills her way.   Blogging can take up a tremendous amount of time if you’re not careful, especially if you’re still mastering typing skills.   Anyway, everyone is all settled in now, except I notice that the two missionaries are constantly cold—I think their bodies made an adjustment to having no air conditioning, even if their minds struggled with it.

Last Wednesday through Sunday was the first conference of Heart of the Matter, hosted entirely online.    This was such a treat, and I believe Heart of the Matter is so cutting edge with this technology.   No parking fiascos or ridiculous gas tank prices in traveling, no outrageous hotel fees under the guise of a “homeschool package,” no rules and regulations about how to, when to, and no need to find activities for the children.   Just a computer and a listening ear, so I could attend even while going about my day.    I have so much information to collect and store somewhere, and to marinate upon for years to come.    I was to speak on Sunday afternoon and struggled with my initial time slot due to technical problems on my end.    I was so very disappointed that I couldn’t speak, and then, at the last minute, a window opened for me.  Another speaker couldn’t show (and I certainly don’t wish her harm), but the Lord had laid on my heart something that I really wanted to share and that I hope ministered to the ladies.  I had a ball, and I can’t wait to do it again.   I’m also praying for extra cash so that I can pay for someone else to go who could benefit from such an opportunity.

Well, I’d better get up from here.   Thank God I’d cooked dinner on yesterday (spaghetti) in case this storm turned out to be more than the weatherman expected.   There’s still salad to prepare, notes to my “big kid” students, clothes to fold and put away, and I still need to review—again—for tomorrow.   My 5-year-old was so excited about her birthday and being a kindergartner until she wanted to start school right away.  So three weeks ago, in spite of all my planning and preparation, we started K-5, with me fumbling each day.   Spontaneity is definitely not my strength.   So I’m going to take a deep breath and review what I thought we would do.   The beauty of school at that age is that you look competent even when you’re feeling totally inept.   I think I’m also still deciding, a few weeks into it, whether Bob Jones was a good decision for us.   Most of all, I want to pray and get up early enough to spend a little quiet time with the Lord.   During the conference, Kendra Fletcher of Preschoolers and Peace  spoke on finding quiet time with the Lord, something that I know is missing on a consistent basis in our homeschooling day.   I tend to say prayers as I’m getting cleaned up, getting breakfast together, etc., and there’s nothing wrong with that, but I’m looking for a new level.   I’m believing God for new wine in this place; dare I show up to our homeschool table with an old wineskin.

UPDATED on 8/6:

I wanted to post this on yesterday but couldn’t get my camera, my post, and the USB cord to link the camera to the computer in one place at one time.   Our first school day was good, not great.   We were all a bit sleepy, including me, though I did get up early enough for prayer.   I think the biggest delight for all the kids is that this guy is now back inside after years of becoming an outside dog.   When the youngest was small, we feared any potential injuries to either, so he had to move.   Now he’s relocated, and even the oldest, who’d like to pretend she doesn’t care, will ask about him if he’s not immediately visible.

  I could have probably included more details in those pep rallies I held a couple of weeks ago—less ‘you can lead the horse to water, but…’ and more ‘this is the book for this subject, here’s what we’ll do here, and this is how…,’ especially with the oldest.   We’ve made some significant changes to books, approach, etc., as she takes on more college-prep skills.   Yet, God is faithful and all is well.   As if that weren’t enough, it’s finally NFL season again!!! YAAAAAYY!!

After the three of us who’re here got up (for me a second time) and got going, the 5-year-old wanted to visit her best friend next door.   I had other plans and spent most of the morning telling her to wait, while she spent most of her morning trying to persuade me to speed it up for the sake of her plans.   Before she could go, I needed to meet a couple of deadlines.   I needed to clean.  I wanted to work out, continuing my newest effort to fight the good fight against that first early 40’s metabolic change.   Mainly, I wanted to do all of this without the pressure to hurry before the neighbor’s kids inevitably wound up back at our house.   The ensuing back and forth exchange (Mom says, “I need to _____________”, child says, “And then you’ll let me go to __________ house?”, Mom says, “We’ll see.” ) made me think so much about me, my mom, and the reality of so many moms I meet.

In one of the many “pass this on to __ people”-type emails that flood my inbox, I once marinated over one entitled, “The Make-Do Woman.”   The moral of this particular story was that, as women, we should never put ourselves last, stating that we’ll “make do” until this or that happens, because there is always something that will get in the way of us taking care of ourselves.   I never bought into this concept; I love preferring others over myself, especially when it comes to family.   Without a doubt, it is better to give than receive.   I guess over the years, I’ve become a “make-do” woman, and on most days, I’m happy with that decision.

My mom was a “make-do” woman.   But there was at least one area where she put herself first.   She worked nights, and so I could never have company or go outside before a certain time of day.   Though I didn’t understand it as a child, she needed her rest, and that was her way of securing it.  That was a personal boundary of hers, established so that she could sleep and do all that she needed to do as a wife, mom, employee, church worker, and so on, and so on.   Over the years I’ve had other seasoned mothers come into my life and speak of personal boundaries.   Recalling another instance, I can remember being so frustrated when we moved into this house, which is double the size of our first home.   I thought surely we had enough space to not be cluttered, but the kids, then 4 and 1 (the youngest hadn’t come yet), left stuff everywhere, and now everywhere meant 2x the space that I had to clean.  One fountain of wisdom told me to confine the children’s play area to certain spaces, and those spaces needed to be upstairs.   I struggled with her suggestion, and didn’t implement it until several weeks, maybe even months, later.    My thinking at that time was that I didn’t want to be the type of mom that made the kids feel as if they always had to walk on eggshells.  This house was our home, I thought, not a museum.   Once I reluctantly followed her advice, I found that the kids couldn’t care less where they played, as long as they could play, and I was at peace that the primary entertaining areas, for the most part, were neat enough for me to relax and receive an unexpected visitor without being too embarrassed.

Before the flashback, I felt pretty bad about making the kids stay here until I finished my list, but then I remembered my mom, and it occurred to me that there is nothing wrong with personal boundaries.    The “make-do” woman needs occasional peace and comfort, too, even if the kids don’t understand it until they become parents.   As the day went on, they actually worked out with me (and pooped out before I did—thank God for that bit of encouragement), they visited the neighbors, and yes, the neighbors wound up back at our house—our clean house (well, at least as clean as it will get today).   Later I ordered pizza, and the kids took advantage of the oldest not being around to get exactly what each wanted— 1 pizza with 1/2 pepperoni, 1/2 cheese (normally we buy pepperoni, and my son, the vegetarian, has to pick it off in order to enjoy his cheese pizza).  In the end, we all got what we wanted, and making do, as usual, was far more pleasant than that pesky e-mail made it out to be.