Tuesday, July 27, 2010

We got to visit a neat farm (http://www.donkeytrail.com/) with 19 donkeys! The babies were adorable, but when I tried to get a shot of the cuties, I got nostril close-ups! Donkeys are very curious.
This one has 1 ear up and one down. His mom was a rescued donkey, and he was a little bonus surprise. I wish I could remember their funny names.

Look at the little hooves! Sweet.



Josh and Evangel got to ride the horses. We're too big for the burritos. The Calitz family has a ministry with these horses and donkeys, taking young people on 4 day ride to "The Hell". It was a treat to meet other homeschoolers as we travel.




We had a rough night here in ostrichville. Paul's got a code in his nose, and his chest and feels yucky. I gave him 3 grape children's triaminic in the night, and 3 orange vitamin C's and 3 children's orange motrin, a night-time fruit salad. It slowed his nose down enough so he could sleep.

As he was dosing off, I thought I heard him mumble, "Happy Anniversary". What? Our 18th will be in August, so I had to whisper, "What?!" sure I had heard wrong.

Now you have to know, Paul strongly resists anti-men jokes. He objects to people saying men never ask for directions. He does ask, and doesn't like these over-generalizations. He also doesn't like it when people imply that men always forget anniversaries and birthdays and such. Ever since we got married, he can, and will, tell how many days, months, years, and even hours we've been married at any given time.
But this is not our anniversary. It's his birthday--62 1/2 years, to be exact.

He was a little embarrassed at his little mistake, which gave me the giggles. That pleased him because one of my goals for marriage is to laugh a lot, so he feels he has accomplished something when he makes me laugh.

We aren't laughing this morning. He has to preach 3 times today, and it's cold out, and he feels miserable. Poor guy.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Check out my mate



I've got a happy husband today. He had 2 good school services this morning. In the first, he saw his picture of Two Ways with the narrow way to Heaven and the wide road to Hell that he drew last year, posted predominately in the back of the hall. The principal told him that sometimes when he has problem students, he brings them to that picture to talk to them and ask them which way they are on.

Before Paul preached this morning, the principal called some students to the front to tell what he had preached last year. It's not too many people who can remember a sermon they heard a year ago, but Paul's sermons are a little different. It's wonderful when leaders appreciate and reinforce the message!

The second school had a sober atmosphere as they were also having a memorial service for a 9th grade student who had died. When Paul asked about the cause of her death, it was that she had had a baby 2 months ago, and died of malnutrition and lung problems. That is sad.

Because of her passing, students were in a more receptive frame of mind then students sometimes are. The principal said that the message Paul brought was more important than any other thing the school teaches.

While he's off preaching, the kids and I are doing school back at Attakwas Budget Accommodation where we are staying. Josh is on a rollarskating binge. He's been wearing them about 6 hours per day this week, and I got that cute picture of him playing chess with Paul in the grocery store parking lot, rolling from move to move.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Our Town is today's headline in Cape Town


I was so surprised to see Muizenberg, our own suburb of Cape Town, in the headlines this morning. I had to buy the paper so Paul could see it too. It appears this huge boulder fell off Muizenberg Mountain, bounced once on a road, and crashed through a roof!
The family had just left the room where the rock landed and was spared. The insurance guy said he'd never had a case like this one.
I must admit, I've often looked at that mountain and wondered when those rocks would fall. I know about the 2nd law of Thermodynamics which basically says all rocks will fall if given enough time, or something like that. The nicest houses in Muizenberg are right there at the mountain's edge, but I'm glad we're not quite so close.
If I did live right there, I'd make sure I was right with God! Come to think of it, even where I live, it's a good idea to be right with God. We live in a flat place, only 5 blocks from the ocean. One good tsunami wave, and...it's good to be ready to meet your Maker! I'm thankful He tells us to seek, and He can be found. That is, after all, the reason we're in Africa, to help people be ready if rocks come through their roof.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Evangel's Ode to her appendix

The Part of me that Is no More.
by Evangel Young, age 14, plus she wrote the prose at the end in a letter to her grandmother to explain

I want to exchange my scar,
For my appendix - in a jar.
I wish that it was whole,
So I could keep it - in a bowl.

The organ in my stomach,
Why did it have to burst?
The little bean-shaped thing,
I wanted to see it first,

Yes, it took quite a long while,
In the process of taking it out,
But now I can look back and smile,
Cause it's really quite pointless to pout.

True, it didn't feel too pretty,
In fact it was rather a pain.
But look on the bright side,
It's now on the outside,
So now it can't pop again!

I wanted to use the word 'detonate',
Somewhere in this rhyme,
But sadly it did not affiliate,
Since I sort of ran out of time.

I was getting a little desperate,
But now I have thought of a verse!
I was free with poetic licence,
To tell of the thing that burst.

I used to have an organ,
That apparently disliked me,
We didn't quite see eye to eye:
And we certainly did not agree,

You could call it a little bomb,
With a website name to boot,
Termed, "packaged pain . com
"Which I'd agree would suit

The Thing felt under-loved,
My Idea is this,
Could not get my attention,
And so it went ballis-,

It blew it's cover, made a mess,
And sat there for a week,
Before we realized it was stressed,
And wasn't being meek

I nearly didn't make it,
Or so the surgeon said.
An intriguing thought indeed-
I was nearly dead!

But thanks to God Almighty,
And servants praying down below,
I survived my tribulation-
I'm still alive to crow!

So I refuse to whine,
For in His perfect time,
His purpose he'll reveal,
And it won't have to rhyme!

The tiny thing inside of me,
The thing by my intestine,
That felt misunderstood, you see,
Should've done more restin'

Decided it wanted a break,
But didn't ask for leave,
Didn't think of what was at stake,
And now I feel bereaved,

On to the happy hunting grounds,
Or wherever it is that organs go,
My appendix made me lose some pounds,
But why it left, I'll never know.

At first I felt abused!
Wasn't I a loyal host?
I stand un-accused -
And I'm not one to boast!

But pride remains a sin,
And so I am condemned,
Along with all my kin,
All the way back to Shem!

But God, in his great mercy,
Sent his only Son, to die,
Creator of the universe,
The Lord who lives on High!

And because He died for us,
Paid the debt on our account,
We can live forever now,
Without another doubt

So sing with me forever!
Of His mercy and his love,
Shout it from the rooftops!
Thanks be to God Above!

Another thing was gone for good,
Thanks again to God alone,
A thing of evil parenthood,
Upon its evil throne

A man-made throne,
Not carved in stone,
But one of my own making,
My sin condoned,I was owned,
I couldn't do forsaking.

Another war was waged,
This also for my life,
But this was far more vital,
Between my sin and Christ

But finally, I saw my sin,
The error of my ways,
I ran to Christ for refuge,
To stay there all my days.

I wrote this poem to explain these things,
In my own odd little way,
To tell the truth of the happenings,
Of the things that didn't stay,

The part of me that is no more,
The part of me that's gone,
The part of me that battled hard,
But in the end I won.

I say 'I' won, because it rhymes,
But it wasn't really me,
It's God who sets the pris'ners free from chains,
And that is why I'm free

So escape your evil captor,
Don't worry my troubled friend,
For I read the last chapter,
We win, in the end!

*Dedicated "To Him that love us..." and my Mom.(Revelation 1:5)

History of "The Part of me that Is no More"_______________________________________

Mom and I were driving home from my piano lesson the other day and I was in a happy, rather "rhythmic" mood. One of us, I'm not sure who, was laughing about something, and Mom, as she sometimes does, sang a little of it - something about a scar, or a car, or 'afar', or something like that. I thought it was funny, and after revising the words a little I wrote down the first 3 verses so I wouldn't forget, and could finish them when I got home for fun. It started out as purely for laughs. Rhymes and jokes that surprise me are often the funniest, and I thought it would be fun to finish it later, and then laugh over it with Mom. Next day, being Saturday, I lay around a lot (For some reason my biggest ideas usually explode directly after being 'sedentary' for a day, rejuvenating me and triggering my 'creative juices') watching the end of a Kent Hovind debate - in which he came out well on top - and against 3 evolutionists at that! - a Vision Forum filmmakers academy DVD, and another episode of Kent Hovind - which inspired the last line to this poem, "Don't worry about all this new world order stuff. I read the last chapter. We win." I finished it Saturday night, thinking to "redeem" it a little with a small message at the end, but then I got going and couldn't, or rather didn't, stop. Then, after several hours of mulling it over, added verse 3 Sunday afternoon.

I'm not too big on poems that don't make sense. Aren't they supposed to be telling you something, not flaunting the author's superior knowledge of the English language? They're supposed to make you think. I usually like one's that tell a story. This one is a true story - or rather stories. We were on a trip at the time, and I really did almost die when my appendix burst - mostly because nobody knew what it was, so it stayed there for a whole week "marinating". Consequently, when they finally did operate and discover it was my appendix, it was everywhere - a real mess. I was rather disappointed I didn't get to see it, too. As to whether it left a scar - it did. A big one. Last time I measured it was about 7 inches long, and between 1 and 2 inches wide at the bottom, thanks to the infection that caused the surgeon to reopen the "incision" at the bottom so it could heal "from the inside out". Gone was the neat little trail of silver staples that "didn't look so bad". To those who follow in my footsteps and have to have staples removed (and it terrifies them no end): please know only the last one hurts, as the skin pulls back a bit. I wanted to save a few as a souvenir, but Mom thought it was a little gross - and they weren't too clean - so I skipped it. I sort of have a 'souvenir' - or rather 3 of them - right on my stomach, anyway. Well, that's how this poem was born, and it was fun writing, so I hope you enjoyed it.
In Christ, Evangel

What a Sunday



This picture goes with the blog entry before last. It's Josh's dumpster find, and has nothing to do with our Sunday. It makes me shiver just to look at his bare toes!


I have just learned something: a mouse window does not work if you are wearing gloves. I haven't tried leather gloves, but these stretchy ones are confirmed useless on these mouse windows, touch pad thingeys.

I'm sitting here wearing my beloved hot pink bathrobe, and my hot pink stretchy gloves even though I am indoors, fully dressed. We are having a small clash of cultures here. I am American and believe in the great American way of being warm indoors. I shut doors and windows, light a fire or turn on electric heat or something, and warm the space so I can sit and work in comfort. This is not the South African way!

The South African way is to dress really, really warm and then open all the doors and windows and freeze. It is fine if you're doing a job like waxing the floor or chopping wood, but blogging is not quite strenuous enough for open doors and windows. I can see my breath. The funny thing is, the delicate little birds outside the window are not moaning about the cold. Their naked little toes look like they should be bothered.

Other then the cold, we're having a good trip. The snow on the mountains around Oudtshoorn is gorgeous!

I'll paste an account of our memorable church experience yesterday:

Paul wrote--

Greetings from The Ostrich Capital. Last time we were here Evangel and Joshua rode an ostrich. (see May 2009)

We left home Monday for Plettenbay Bay where a church there put us up in The River Club, a very nice resort. A former principal scheduled me in four schools in those two days with appreciative principals and attentive, responsive kids. Then we had some good services in George. Now we're in Oudtshoorn. We've seen a lot of snow capped mountains, and it's been cold at night. In one of the schools the doors were wide open with the kids sitting on the floor at one degree above freezing. At another school it was pretty cold and windy as the students stood outdoors for the preaching.

Today I misunderstood the schedule that was emailed to me, and we arrived at the church 30 minutes early, we thought. But the service had already started. I walked down the side to the front, and the pastor asked what I was doing there. We discussed the situation while the congregation watched and listened! He was very gracious and scheduled me on the spot. It turns out I was not really scheduled anywhere. Afterward, different people said it was of the Lord; it was not a mistake. The pastor also scheduled us again for next Sunday night. The rest of our time here I'm scheduled in about a dozen schools.

Here's Vicki's version of the episode I copied from her letter to her mom:

I have to tell you our interesting church experience this morning. We got there 1/2 hour early, we thought, but there was already singing going on...not a good sign and the parking lot was full of cars...not good. So with fear and trepidation, we went in. Paul did not stop to talk to the guy at the door, but walked down the side aisle toward the front.

The pastor was speaking in Afrikaans, and what a gracious man! He stopped and asked what we were doing there, but very nicely. He knew he had not scheduled us. Turns out the schedule said we were supposed to be in another church of the same denomination on the other side of the Outeniqua Mountains! Oops.

Though later we found out we weren't actually scheduled there either, but it was on our schedule. Evangel never did come into the church, she was mortified over the whole thing. 14 is a difficult age for parents to make huge mistakes :-) I got the giggles, so Timmy and Josh were rather jolly too, and I had to keep poking Josh as he was rather too jolly!

So the pastor, under pressure from his wife and the audience, let Paul preach and then scheduled him for next Sunday evening again! And a lot of people assured Paul afterward that the Lord was in it, it was not a mistake, etc.

Personally, I think the audience enjoyed the drama of it all. They were expecting a regular Sunday, and in we walk, disrupting everything. Then Paul and the pastor discussed it right in front of everyone. It was tense for me, but probably just intriuging for the rest of them.

Love,

Paul for all

I hope Paul doesn't mind my sticking his letter in here. I'd better check with him before I do it.

In all this coldness, visions of Maine in August keep dancing in my head. My family writes of 90 degree weather while I'm shivering, and I want to be there!

One of my traveling challenges is getting the laundry done. The boys don't normally wear socks much, as they wear Crocs most of the time, but it's been so cold, that we're insisting they wear socks more now, so both of them ran out of clean socks, and then Timmy sprang a hole big enough for a teacup to fit through so it was time to do laundry.

Saturday evening, Paul read to the family, and I started washing out the socks in the kitchen sink. The problem is, I love doing hand washing, once I'm started, and I washed everything that was dirty, which was a lot.

Next problem, where to hang it?

I went outside and found some wash lines, but they were almost full. I was using a trash bucket for a laundry basket and put about 2 bucket loads out there. Now what?

Our windows in our little appt. had wooden cases over them, and they held 2 pairs of pants, a shirt, and some socks. The kitchen had about 5 hooks, and in the bathroom I hit the jackpot! There was a fold out rack which held Paul's long pants and about 5 shirts. I used the 3 hooks over Timmy's bed (living room couch) and hoped the undies wouldn't drip on him.

I thought I had our problem solved, but in the morning, nothing felt ANY drier. The socks could still wring out a lot of water. I'm not the greatest wringer. Evangel is a good wringer, but I'm a good laundry shepherd and Evangel is not.

After our embarrassing church episode, I whipped us up some whole wheat spaghetti for lunch (that's another whole story! Paul doesn't care for white flour as it sends him into a sugar low, but I love spaghetti so we were both happy when I recently discovered whole wheat noodles!) and then went in search of sun for our clothes.

I met a helpful maid, and she showed me a clothes-tree on wheels! How cool! It means you can chase the winter sun around with your clothes. It's the first time I've seen one of those. I filled it and left it.

I had to roll the whole tree away from the house several times to keep it in the sun. Clothes take a lot longer to dry when they're only wrung out by hand.

Finally we were at the shepherding stage. I couldn't roll that thing any further, but there was still some sun left on the bushes. I put our clothes in the bushes, which I know is a tacky thing to do in town like this, so I didn't dare go off and leave them. I got a book, and soaked in the lovely afternoon sun while I shepherded the clothes through the last hour of sunlight on the bush.

At one point, Josh wanted me to go throw a rugby ball with him down in a field. I gave Evangel the choice, did she want to shepherd the clothes for me, or go throw the ball with Josh for me? She made me laugh with her answer, "How could I tell my journal I was shepherding clothes?" She went to toss the ball, and I got to continue my peaceful interlude in the sun.

Finally I had to move the last few item back inside, where they are STILL damp after hanging over the curtains all night.

Such are the thrills of doing laundry.