Lesson from Lance: Grace

Today I learned a lot...from Lance...about God, grace, and forgetting what you need to forget...

You ever have one of those days, that while it was slightly scary, it made you thankful for a few not-so-great things that happened earlier that month? Not to mention, make you realize just how God really does work in mysterious ways and work everything together for good?

Back story: earlier this month Lance was stung by a bee (or so we think) and the resulting little welt was starting to heal when he got to playing rough with Caito and tore it wide open about a week later. So to start this month off I had a vet bill, salve to put on Lance's open sore, and antibiotics he had to take every day. Oh, and we were recommended that Lance wear a T-shirt to keep his wound clean/covered/protected (FYI, for now, he wears the same size I do, apparently).

So today I took Lance for his almost-daily walk, and at the last minute I forgot to take Lance's T-shirt off before we left (his wound is healing fine so he probably doesn't need the T-shirt anymore). It turns out it was for the best that I forgot, despite the fact it had a couple little holes in it and didn't look all that great. It was a pleasant enough walk and we got to meet a very nice older couple during it. And then as we were coming around the last corner and headed home, one of the neighborhoods' pitbulls broke free from it's line and came right at us. Right at Lance...

Did I mention it was a scary day?

Immediately a few friendly neighbors went into action and as Lance sought refuge on another neighbor's porch, someone rounded up the pitbull and led it home, and another brought Lance back down the steps to me.

The good news is that in only a couple minutes Lance was back to his slobbering-greeting self and saying 'hi' (albeit a little more subdued then I know he can be) to everyone involved and aside from keeping his tail between his legs a few more minutes, he seemed fine. Even acting his normal self as we made our way home, waiting patiently by the door until I unlocked it so we could both go in (I was shaking more then him, apparently)!

The good thing about a Newfie is that they are called "goofy newfies" and the warning/caution signs you can get for them all say something like "Caution: Newfoundland may slobber you to death". As in, while Lance may have an incredible memory (a blessing and a downside; I have to make sure he never sees where I hide treats because he'll never forget to check there later) he has no concept of evil. If he had been a person and the pitbull had turned to apologize on it's way home, Lance would have probably given it a huge hug (albeit, hesitantly?), probably exchanged names, and maybe even made a new best friend, I'm sure.

*shakes head*
That's just who he is. There's no evil in anyone/anything, in his opinion.

Did I mention that the wound from earlier this month was a blessing too? Because one of the neighbors who helped us out today couldn't stop raving about how it was such a good thing Lance was wearing a T-shirt. It kept the pitbull from getting a good bite on Lance as it just got a mouthful of T-shirt instead. Not to mention, it allowed Lance to escape the pitbull and no blood (or fur) was spilled over the incident before everyone could intervene.

So yeah, Lance may never be very protective of me (Service Dogs aren't allowed to be), but as another blessing he might not have some of those other issues that SD's (or leashed dogs) do after they have been attacked by other (loose) dogs. He may never need all that therapy and such to recover. All he needs is a few minutes of extra petting from random people he just met, (a few treats from me?), maybe a little bit of licking/love from Caito, and all is as it was...

"There's evil in the world? Since when?"

(Perhaps if we summarized all harm/evil with a Newfie's mindset it would read like: if evil presents itself, there's grace/forgiveness for it. And how can it survive after that? It dies, of course. Much faster then the second it presented...)

Once Upon A Time…

There was an old man of a priestly lineage in the family. While a son was what any father would be proud to have, to hold, to raise in their heritage, teach the history of their people, confide in as a friend as the child aged, and eventually pass on the family business, of course. This man only had one child, a daughter.

At first, any man of their people would have seen it as a curse, but as any good father is prone to do, eventually even this old man grew to dote on his beautiful daughter. After all, it was his only child.

When she was very young, he would tuck her into bed at night, telling her tales of their forefathers. Of the great men, and sometimes women, of their history. He would watch her eyes sparkle and light up on certain tales, and grow sad with his as he spoke of others. He told her of their lives, their deaths, their heritage. And sometimes, too, of their failures…These great men and women of their faith.

As she grew older, however, even her mother began to notice how knowledgeable their daughter was for "just a girl" and so the father began to sneak home the pieces of their stories for the daughter to read. Telling her it was their little secret. Even some of the men of their tribe had began to notice and shake their heads as he walked by, speaking among themselves about how he was raising his daughter "too smart for just a girl!" After all, what man could ever appreciate her when she became of age if she knew more then they?

As a girl, she could not attend school. As girl she was only told of a couple select prayers to prayer, by rote or memory, passed down from mother to daughter through the generations. As a girl, she learned all that she would need to learn to eventually make a good wife and mother, from her mother, from hands-on experience. What else could a girl possible want?

But she was his daughter, and having no one else to pass on the joys that a man often might share with a son in their tribe, this old man passed on everything he could to his often-fascinated young daughter.

And as she grew, so did her memory. And her intellect  She strove to memorize those pieces of their history that her father sneaked home for her to read. And in the evenings, once he got home, they could often be found huddled in a corner of their living-room, knees to knees and forehead to forehead as they puzzled over something she had read earlier.

Boys were taught to argue out their views, not to win over another's viewpoints to their own, but simple to argue until they felt it had been exhausted. And that was how they learned. Sometimes one came to agree with another, and sometimes they did not. They agreed to disagree. But learning was just as much about puzzling and seeing the different angles to a story as it was just reading and memorizing that same story.

As the daughter grew into her teen years, if a person were to pass by their house in the late evenings and this father and daughter were not as careful as they often tried to be, you could hear their voices raise above the whisper as they, too, argued out a puzzlement in one story or another. Or a prophecy. Or which sin was worst then another. Or any other number of things about their life, their history, or their government and laws.

Despite all the things, though, that this young woman—for that is what she was quickly becoming—could learn, there was one story she especially loved. While there were so many men—great royalty, even—in their history, there were very few women in it. But one woman, especially, stood out to this daughter.

The story of a woman, a wife, who could not have a child. The other wife had already given the husband a couple children, and especially the most sought after of children: sons. Yet still this woman remained barren. And even with the preferred love of the husband, this certain woman in history was still saddened that she could not even give her husband one child. So she sought out their god in earnest prayer. And their god answered and gave her a son. A son she gave back to god to serve as a priest. A son who became a great man of their god in their history, who played a part in many of their history's stories. A prophet, even.

But it was the story of this wife and mother that the daughter loved the most, even though this mother was only mentioned in a couple chapters in a book. The daughter memorized each word of those chapters, and held them all in her heart as she grew. Often begging her father to tell her that story again and again, or to sneak it home to be read over and over in the privacy of their garden.

Then as the daughter grew and became of age, with the secret of her occasionally fierce attitude and smart mind safely tucked away between the two of them, the father was able to find and arrange a smart marriage for his precious daughter. He could not have been more proud of the choice! This man had proved to be smart and sure, and had a steady job, and a good livelihood. One night, even, when they had this man over for dinner, and the man had dared to ask the daughter's opinion on a subject in their history, the man had not been upset to find the daughter not only willing to answer, but smart enough to answer well! The man could not have been more proud to find such a voice in a young woman, and the father could not have been more proud to know he found such a match for his precious daughter; a rarity: a man who did not mind a smart woman who could handle her mind as well as a household, and a man that would truly treat his daughter as the princess the father felt in his heart that she was!

One day, during their year-long engagement, the daughter's life was forever changed…

The daughter was sitting out back in the privacy of their small garden, a small piece of history held tightly in her hand as she read a paragraph from it. She was preparing herself for another 'argument' with her father later that evening. So happy and joyful at the thoughts coursing through her mind that she was giving them voice as she hummed. When suddenly she felt as though a shadow fell across her lap, and fear filled her. Had she been discovered? She tucked the book quickly under her skirt and looked up with a smile, hoping her ability to read—let alone understand—had not been discovered.

But the man standing over her was not like any person she had ever met. And as she felt a new reason to fear rise in her throat, she lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the bright light as the being before her continued to speak: "Fear not, Mary…"

><>†<><

I was asked the other day what was my favorite Christmas song. My answer has always been "anything related to Mary." Mary Did You Know? is probably top of that list.

For some reason I have always been fascinated by the story of Mary the mother of Jesus.

While in college I was asked by a teacher if I would take my Holiday and do a research paper on Mary that the teacher then wanted to utilize somehow as a class project later that year. Of course, even though it was not part of the class requirements, I said "yes". Why wouldn't I? I had already been trying to find an excuse to do the research on one of the people in the Bible that has always fascinated me!

While not a lot is mentioned about her in the Bible, there are several books in any given library that mention her…Perhaps one of those genealogies of Jesus mentioned in the New Testament is of Mary and her lineage? Perhaps she was of a priestly line? Did Mary's song during her pregnancy with Jesus come from her knowledge of the Scriptures? Was she quoting Hannah's song in several lines of it, because she knew Hannah's story well? And so on…The various books and their author's perspectives of Mary vary, but the image I like the most is the one I painted above.

Of an only daughter, well versed in Scripture because her father doted on her despite the fact she was just a girl.

What most men would have seen as a curse—not having a son—he saw as a blessing: he still had a daughter. Someone to pass on his knowledge, his heart, his passion, his prayers, his dreams, and his god.

And the awesome part about that story is that by this father's preparation, by his upbringing, he turned that curse into a blessing…for the world.

I like to think that God did not just want any woman—any typical/usual-for-that-time woman—to raise his Son, but He chose Mary…because she knew the Scriptures. She knew the promises of God, the words of the prophets. She knew the stories of old. The plans He had for their nation. And by knowing so much, by knowing His words, personally, I would like to think Mary knew God, too!

I know we think of Christmas as being about Christ. About Jesus. But I'm always reminded of the people and the stories that brought about Jesus' birth. The prefect time, the prefect place, the perfect setting…When was the last time you thought about Mary and what she went through to stand on faith alone in the word of an angel of God in a culture where she should be stoned to death for her pregnancy outside of marriage? And what about all the others in history who brought Christ into our world—like, perhaps, Mary's father—not by giving birth to Him literally, but by—unknowingly—arranging all those "perfects" to fall into place? The men and woman of the Old Testament who's lives, in one way or another, were instrumental in His history? And the many people who carried the Gospel to the nations after Christ's death and resurrection?

This Christmas, are you truly being a "mass" (i.e. a large group of people thinking/acting as one) for Christ? Are you carrying Him, in one way or another? In your smile? To your neighbors? To the cashier at Wal-mart? To the soup kitchen? To the ends of the earth?

In my opinion, Christmas not only shouldn't be stressful, it doesn't have to be either. It's a choice. And if it is stressful, obviously, our focus is on the wrong thing. Look at the blessings and not the curses, choose to see even that which could be perceived as a curse as a blessing, and do not forget to pass on that blessing…to the world.

If "Christian" is the word for "little Christ" then "Christmas" is the word for all of us, coming together as one, for the same cause. No longer individuals, standing alone, but a mass…a Christ-mass.

Will you join me this Christmas?

In re-prioritizing our focus? It's not about getting. It's not about finances or sharing stress like that never-ending sinus-cold we can not seem to get ride of during the winter. It's about giving…as little-Christs…en masse.

Christmas day, I'll be there…

…will you?

A Day of Errands

Well I had a productive day.

Yesterday, between the txt-ing and the phone calls, my video editing got delayed rather late and for a bit I was beginning to wonder if I was going to get everything done! I even managed to eat dinner in the middle of my editing; thats how late one video was running! And I did most of my laundry in the middle of all that too! In the end, thought, I did managed to get everything done I wanted to! But when I finally crawled into bed after packing the last of my one suitcase, I looked at the clock and groaned: 3am! An hour past my bed time! So much for making it all fit!

Today, I got up (running a bit late, although early in the morning, after only a few hours of sleep--which is not me!) but managed to get everything figured out and done before Mom showed up for our date. We hit Green Acres and had French Toast under long conversations! In fact, we were there chatting for so long that when the place started to fill up, I glanced at the clock and realized it was Noon and we should probably clear out so they can have our spot! Then we ran to Big Lots to see if there was anything there I needed to grab (but for a better deal) before we ran to Walmart; I found a small thing of Rice Milk that would do for the next couple days, but a better price, for instance. Then at Walmart, I ended up txt-ing back and forth with Deb-in-Africa quit a bit before we finally figured out and grabbed that thing she wanted me to grab for a friend over there (which I'll fit in one of the suitcases later). Then we hit the drive-through for a quick lunch snack at Taco Bell, which I ate while Mom made some phone calls from the house phone. Then she drove me to the Library quick and dropped me off, so I could run a couple more errands...and we parted. So sad! But it was such a great day! (it was about 3pm then and she had to head back up to Buffalo to meet some people for dinner)...I managed to get my errands done, make a couple phone calls too, and then I found myself falling asleep back at my laptop, so a quick late-afternoon nap.

Sometime tonight or tomorrow night I need to finish up the near-last (separate from my very last)of my packing. Otherwise, I think I had a rather productive couple of days...Oh, I have a date with a fantastic friend tomorrow morning, so it'll probably be another few-hour-night of sleep, but I don't have much left to do before leaving so between the evenings and Saturday, anything left should be easy to finish up...with time to twiddle my thumbs inbetween as well!

Oh, but what I have really been dying to sit down and say all day is this: IT'S BEAUTIFUL OUT! I'm so happy! To wake up this morning and hear something that sounded like a faint version of our doorbell and then to realize it was the birds outside, was just too awesome! It might be a bit muddy, but who cares about that? SPRING IS HERE! Mom and I both ended up taking off our jackets and leaving them in the car after our brunch-date while we did our running around, and then I left it at home when I did my Library and bank errands later! I love birds. Sunshine. Warm weather! Who could complain about a day like this? (aside from Deb, who likes things freezing?!) IT'S BEAUTIFUL OUT!

My next trip

For those who do not know by now, I'm heading on another missions trip. This time to Africa. I leave this Sunday, March 20th, and arrive the next day.

It's been over a year since I've left North America, so I'm very excited! A little sad that it means my chance of getting a car are pretty much gone, now, though since I've used the little bit of money I had tried to save up for the car for this trip. I still owe a bit for the trip, too, however, so any prayer and financial support would be greatly appreciated!

This is a trip of many firsts, too. First time in Burkina Faso. First time in the Brussels airport. First time to fly internationally by myself. First time in the Burkina Faso airport, too, of course. Although, technically, almost every trip I go on has "firsts", I guess what makes this one special is that I know the "firsts" before they come! LOL! That and I love adding more countries to my passport, so I get to mark off one more country on my list. As well as a new airport experience to my memory.

Originally I was going to to try and fly with Deb last Sunday, and fly into Accra (where we usually fly into West Africa). However, I could not get on her flight. Then it looked like I could not get the two required visa's back in enough time to leave even close to the beginning of this week (I needed Ghana and Burkina Faso). Then the idea came to us. They're over there, making their way up to Burkina Faso this week, traveling with a few meetings; what if I missed the traveling part? If flew in to meet them in Burkina Faso, instead, I would miss the long road trip and acquire another week to get my visa's. Since that seemed the only option, really, I booked my flight for next Sunday heading to Burkina Faso and then sent my passport off to the DC embassy for my first visa. Thankfully, I got my first visa (Burkina Faso) back on a Saturday and could have sent it off for the next one. But then it occurred to us of one more thing (and one less worry for me: will my passport get back in time to fly out next Sunday?) when I googled embassy's and found that there is an embassy over in Burkina Faso! And since we'll be there about a week, it'll be plenty of time to take it by hand and pick it up by hand a couple days later, all before heading to the next country! So I'm all ready to go now, just waiting till Sunday comes!

Does that mean I'm packed? Ha! Are you joking? I've got the suitcases, the carry-on, and my little backpack sitting in the middle of my floor. A pile of possibilities in the clothing department on my African hope-chest. A pile of bags with random objects of things I have to take for Deb & Fred (a couple Deb couldn't fit in her suitcases) sitting around the suitcases on the floor...but packed? NO! Just thinking. Mostly I've been doing work on my laptop, making sure everything I like or can't live without it backed up on my external hard-drive I'll leave at home. And everything I might need while I'm gone (like at some point I've got to work on PSE and make our usually mailing and other items for our Women's Conference coming up in May) is on my laptop, with room to create or do whatever on my laptop (since the hard-drive is apparently too small for everything!)...

My schedule...for this week:
Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll finish editing the last video of the Twelve Tribes. Pack. And fit church meeting in there somewhere...Thursday my Mom comes to hang out for a date, as she'll be in Buffalo for a few days, so that day is mostly taken up with that and seeing if I can employ her as a chauffeur to make a quick run to Walmart as well...Friday will be laundry and finish packing, as much as possible (there's always a few essentials that a person doesn't pack until just before they head out the door--like a toothbrush--unless they happen to own doubles of the items)

LOL! I know, y'all are probably wondering what my AFRICA schedule is, not this week...well, I'll be...so picky!

Anywhooos...give me a couple minutes to find what little bit of the Africa schedule I know...I wrote it down somewhere...la, la, la...Ok, can't find it. What's more, I haven't got Fred's Google Calendar yet, so I can't see the schedule again to remind me. So sorry, for building up all our hopes. Hopefully I'll get access to the Calendar later and have time to post the schedule then. Although, if I remember right, there should be a schedule for Fred's whole three-month trip on Davismission, which includes when I'll be there. For those who are wondering, I'll be flying to come home from Accra, Ghana, April 13th (on a different flight then Deb, again, though our planes will know of each other since it's all about the same time and places) and arrive a couple hours earlier then Deb in the Buffalo Airport that Thursday, April 14th, morning.

I also hope that my access to the Internet won't be to shaky during the whole trip so I might post occasional updates, but sometimes even just connecting long enough to send an e-mail gets interesting. So we'll just have to see what happens!

Keep me in your prayers throughout, and may God bless y'all abundantly!
<>< Hannah Joy