Childhood memories.

I am a fairly inquisitive person. In order to get to know someone I like to ask a lot of questions. When I was with Youth With a Mission, I met many people. One of my favorite things to do at dinner time was ask people about themselves. Such as; What's your favorite color? What's your middle name? I like to know other people's middle names but hate to tell them my own. If you know me well enough you know why.


One day, sometime in spring, after a very trying and emotional day of classes, I came up with my favorite question. What is your favorite childhood memory? That day I got to hear many warm memories and you wouldn't believe how that question lightened the mood and lifted spirits.


It was my dad's birthday about a week ago, and in honor of his birthday, I thought I'd share one of my favorite childhood memories.

I can't remember where we were or even how old I was, but sometime, long ago, when I was munchkin I had breakfast for dinner. Back when I looked like this --->
I moved around a lot and at that time we were staying at a hotel. I was hungry and my dad and I walked to Denny's. We ate our dinner--or breakfast-- my guess is I probably had pancakes. They're still on my top ten list of favorite foods. After we had finished eating we walked back to the hotel. It had begun snowing and my dad taught me how to catch snowflakes on my tongue. We stood in the parking lot, in the snow, and waited for snowflakes to land on our tongues. After all these years, I still remember that.


Try asking people what their favorite childhood memories are. You'll get some great answers and I would love to hear all about your favorite childhood memories.

Block.

I spent Thanksgiving in Ohio with my aunt, uncle, cousins, and grandma. I had a really nice time, ate a lot of food, and got to to see some of my family that I hadn't seen in awhile. Pretty much a successful holiday. Also as an added bonus, I got to share a room with my little cousin. Being an only child I never got to do that as a kid. Now I refer to her as little, because she is four years younger than me (and she is one out of only two cousins who is actually younger than I am.) However without much exaggeration, if any, she is probably about a foot taller than me. So one night, my "little cousin," Annelise, and I are writing in our journals and she asks me what I'm writing about.

A few blog posts back, I asked people how they pray. I'm curious, you see, because I'm convinced that we all pray in a unique way. About a year or so ago I started praying via my journal. I am very easily distracted. In fact, as a small child one of my teachers had me tested for Attention Deficit Disorder. I don't have ADD but I often tell that story to prove my point about not being able to keep focus very long. I struggled for a long time in my prayer life because I could never seem to communicate with God effectively because I would get so distracted after about a minute of prayer. And so, I began journaling. I've always enjoyed writing, some people even dare to say I'm pretty good at it (including myself)-- and ever since I began writing my prayers, my spiritual life has improved. I still pray, even when I'm not writing, but I've found that writing to God is how I best communicate with Him. And so, when my cousin asked me what I was writing, I was praying.

Annelise and I had a nice long talk about, well, talking to God. I told her that I was writing my thoughts and prayers to God and how I had found that journaling my prayers was a perfect match for my personality. We also talked about being in a spiritual rut--or having a "block" when talking to God. You know that feeling when you just feel so spiritually low and you can't figure out why God's not talking back. Why He doesn't seem present. I said that I have found that even in those times when we feel that God is absent we just kind of have to keep showing up to pray and commune with Him and trust that He'll show up. And even though there might be a "block," He always wants to talk to us and that block won't be there forever. And then my not so little cousin said something that I would not have had the wisdom to say when I was in high school. She said, "Unless you let that block be there forever."

As of late I've been pretty discouraged. It's made it hard to talk to God. I told Him this morning that sure I trusted in Him no problem when the going got rough, but it's been a real struggle since the going stayed rough. After all nothing's been going my way... shouldn't I pout? But you see, just as my cousin pointed out, when we get stuck--really stuck, is when we refuse to move on. When we let our "block," our rut, win. When we give into discouragement or whatever it is. And so I ask you. What is your rut? Your block? And what are you going to do about it?

Zaccheus was too small.

Pay it Forward.

I remember one time when I was a kiddo, on the way home from the doctor, my mom and I stopped for lunch. Belly filled with chicken fingers, I napped the rest of the way home. When I awoke, my to-go box filled with my left over lunch was nowhere in sight. I asked my mom where my lunch went and she told me she had given it to someone in need. I was very upset about the whole ordeal, down right mad and grumpy. I had wanted to eat those chicken fingers-- what a way to wake up from a nap I thought. But my mom taught me a very important lesson that day-- I probably didn't learn it until years later but she planted a seed in me that helped shape me into who I am today. 


I think giving food to people in need is an excellent testimony of kindness and the love of Christ. I almost never give people money-- I try to give them something to eat or something hot to drink. My mom taught me that kind of generosity by showing me through her actions-- it's something I hope my kids pick up on too. 


So in the spirit of the holidays, and more importantly in the memory of what Christ has done for us, I encourage you to pay it forward. Do something nice for someone else, someone in need. Be a living testimony of Christ's love. 

...and I'm a Mormon.

As of late, I've been going to the dentist a lot. Not that I needed a reminder why no one likes going to the dentist. But as it is, I've been there twice already this week. My aunt works in a dentist's office and was kind enough to get me an appointment while I was visiting during the Thanksgiving holiday. And hopefully by Thanksgiving the numbing medicine will have worn off. 

My aunt introduced me to most of the people who worked in the office and it spread pretty quickly that I had done missions work in Latin America. My dental hygienist was very friendly and talked a lot. Have you ever tried to have a conversation with a dental hygienist, dentist, or orthodontist? Do they actually expect you to talk back with cotton and their fingers in your mouth? Silly notion if you ask me. But I do appreciate a friendly demeanor just as much as I appreciate sunshine and good dental hygiene. So my dental hygienist asked me about my mission work, turns out her son is in the Peace Corp in Mongolia. She then proceeded to tell me how much it costs to send a care package to Mongolia. If you can't think of anything to be thankful for on Thursday, be thankful you don't have to shell out enough dough to pay for a package to Mongolia. She then asked me a question that took me aback. Because of the missionary work I had done, she asked, "So are you a Mormon?" I was shocked and maybe even a bit offended for some reason or other. Like something I had done inspired her question-- like I was guilty or something and that's why she asked if I was a Mormon. I'm sure my facial expression changed as I shot back a quick no and told her quite firmly that I was Christian. Truth is that her question got me thinking. It makes sense-- her assumption was logical. Why is it that we as Christians are so slow on the uptake?


I really respect Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses. I don't agree with them--  but I respect them. They've got at least one thing right. They tell others about their faith. They tell everyone! They go on missions trips and spread their faith openly and boldly. What if we were like that? What if we were more like Mormons? What if we actually believed what we say we do-- wouldn't that mean that we would tell others about it? About the inexplicable joy and freedom of salvation? What if we went out into the world and made disciples like we were commanded in Matthew 28? What if we one-upped the Mormons and Jehovah's Witnesses? Why not? After all we do have truth on our side. 


So I will ask again, Why are we as Christians so slow on the uptake? Even if you could think of an excuse--it wouldn't be good enough. I say that we shake things up a bit. When people think missions let's make them think Christianity. 

Missing Costa Rica.

Incurable Fanatic.

"If to be feeling alive to the sufferings of my fellow-creatures is to be a fanatic, I am one of the most incurable fanatics ever permitted to be at large."- William Wilberforce


Recently I heard Human Trafficking defined as "the exploitation of vulnerability." Here are some statistics about Human Trafficking and modern day slavery.

• A child is trafficked every 30 seconds. – UNICEF
• The average age of entry into commercial sex slavery in the United States is 13 years old. – United States Department of Justice
• Human Trafficking occurs in 161 out of 192 countries. – The United Nations
• Pornography is a 96 billion dollar per year industry. – The Internet Filter Review
• Up to 96% of women in prostitution want to escape but feel they can’t. – United Labor Organization
• Human Trafficking is a 32 billion dollar per year industry. – The United Nations
• In some countries it is estimated that 70% of men purchase sex. – Victor Malarek; The Johns
• Over 27 million people are enslaved around the world. This is more than double the number of Africans enslaved during the Trans-Atlantic slave trade. – Kevin Bales; Free the Slaves
• There are nearlly two million children involved in the international commercial sex trade.-UNICEF

Sunday night I went to a free screening of the documentary Nefarious: Merchant of Souls. If it's coming to a city near you I impede you to go see it. As a small(er) child I never pictured myself becoming a documentary lover-- but I am and I hope you will get a chance to see this film. I think we can read these facts and feel sad. Maybe even cry. But I feel like these statistics, these people deserve more than our pity and compassion. They need our help. You can start helping by spreading the news-- tell others what you know about human trafficking. Repost these statistics on your Facebook and on your blog if you have one. Heck make an Anti-Human Trafficking Blog. Whatever you can do to spread the word do it. Secondly you can pray. Prayer is powerful. I was inspired by the Nefarious film to pray every time I'm stuck at a red light. As soon as I'm done writing this blog I'm going to make a sticky to put in my car to remind me to pray for the end of human trafficking. Every time I'm stopped at a red light I'll pray for the girls who are held in captivity in the red light districts around the world. I hope you'll join me. 

Sucker.

Frugality is not one of my strong suits. I give you all full permission to begin praying for my future husband and his pocketbook. 

I offered my friend Jessica a mint today. I told her they were those "hunger mints." You know what I'm talking about. You see them every time you check out at Walmart, they're the ones in the test tube containers. I confessed to her what a sucker I am. I couldn't pass up buying those mints--because they advertised that buying said mints help feed the hungry. I then went on to tell her how a few weeks ago I bought a calendar. I was waiting in line at Whole Foods. I causally picked up a calendar and perused through it with absolutely no intention to actual purchase it. The cashier began to tell me that 100% of the calendar's profits went to charity and I knew that I was done for.
 After all, the nice cashier lady reassured me that it was going to a really good cause. You want to know a little secret? I never use calendars and much to my chagrin I told Jessica that I was a first class, bona fide sucker. You know what she said? "I think that probably just means you have compassion and a big heart." So what if I wasted three dollars on a calendar I probably won't ever really use? It's full of beautiful pictures AND coupons. Plus, I just invested in people all over the world. I'm glad I didn't go to Trader Joe's that day. Good thing I went to Whole Foods instead. 
What I think I'd like to communicate is that being a sucker isn't such a bad thing. I bet this world might look better if there were more suckers in the world. Compassionate and goodhearted suckers. 

And guess what else, tonight I bought two bumper stickers that support an Anti-Human Trafficking movement. Guess how many bumpers I have. Yup, I got sucked into spending two dollars to help diminish sex trafficking if the world. Ok, I spent six dollars, I also put four dollars in an offering plate. I think generosity comes in different forms. For me I guess it comes in the manner of buying one too many bumper stickers and having minty fresh breath from my hunger mints. That's a sacrifice I think I can handle. So I want to encourage you, challenge you to be a sucker. Go ahead give it a try.

Let us pray.

As of late I've been attending a little shindig at Oakland University on Fridays. It's a a Christian campus group and we've been watching Louie Gigglio's series on prayer. Louie makes some very interesting points about how our culture affects our style of prayer. The series is very challenging and it got me thinking a lot about how it is that we talk to God. God created us all to be different and unique. So it stands to reason that our relationships with Him are just as unique as we are. I believe our personalities, habits, and quirks influence our prayer style. For example, I usually start off a prayer with "Dear God." I know other people who always begin with "Heavenly Father" or "Dear Jesus." Often in my blog I ask rhetorical questions, but within the last few days I had the bright idea to just ask questions--and expect (or hope for) answers. Maybe a little confirmation that I'm not just talk to myself on here. So I want to know, how is it that you pray? How do you as an individual communicate with God?

 For example, one of the primary ways I talk to God is through a journal I keep. I pour a large cup of coffee and write prayers in my journal. I usually do this at my kitchen table or sitting on my bed with my journal propped up against my knees. I pray when I drive--unfortunately my "driving prayer" is often a prayer of repentance because I let a word a little stronger that "whoops" slip out of my mouth. (Still working on that.) I think most people have some sort of routine when they pray-- a certain time of day, during certain activities, and in specific places. I had a Bible teacher who would go to her closet to pray. So I want to know, How do you pray?? 

Stranger Danger.

I spent all day today shopping for wedding gowns with bride-to-be and my long-time-friend Alyssa. As a hopeless romantic and the uber sap that I am, I had a wonderful day. The only thing that could have possibly made the day better would have been caffeine in larger doses and more frequent intervals. We went to six bridal stores and shopped from 10am-7pm. At the end of the day Alyssa narrowed her pick down to two choices--pretty successful trip if you ask me. We finished the day in high spirits, giddy, and exhausted. Upon leaving our final stop at a mall we encountered quite a bit of traffic. Turns out a young girl's car had stalled right in the middle of the turning lane and all she needed was a jump. My best friend Aimee stopped to ask the young woman if she needed some help, and of course she did. You see that poor girl had been stuck there with a dead battery for FOUR hours. Can you imagine? Four hours? Teary eyed and grateful, the young woman finally got a jump because Aimee made the simple gesture to stop a minute and see if the poor girl needed any help. This really struck me, because you see, if I had been driving, I would have been just like all the other drivers who went about their way without giving this girl a second thought. I saw that she was on her cell phone and would have just kept driving. Stranger Danger, am I right? I would have behaved just like everyone else. It was growing darker, I was hungry, and the situation was none of my concern. Right? But what an opportunity that gave my friend Aimee to help that woman and share a little bit of God's heart... just like the Good Samaritan did so many years ago. It makes me wonder how many times we pass up simple opportunities to share God's love. A challenge presents itself. As Christians we know that Jesus lives inside of us and we are in turn called to live in accordance with His example.... but how often do we let ourselves and our desires get in the way of living out His love? And how do we make it stop? How do we reprogram our selfishness and begin to live and act as if we were children of the most high God? And when will we begin to treat others as if they  were also His children?

Instant pick-me-up.

Need a laugh? Watch this video :)

Michigan.

Rain Boots.

My friend Somer asked me this week to update my blog on what God's been doing in my life lately. I told her that was a good idea.... and then proceeded to blankly stare at my computer screen. Because I couldn't think of anything to write. I tried to dig really deep and think of something super profound.... something spiritual. Wise. Something worth writing about. You know what I came up with? Not much. The only thing I found was honesty--- because, in all honesty, I have no idea what God is doing in my life. Now I am not saying that God is not doing anything--- I just said I don't know what it is He is doing in my life--or why. I feel like I've been under a little rain cloud lately-- and not the fun, puddle jumping kind of rain cloud. It's been a cloud of sad, lonely, and ill-adjustment. Now I'm not asking for recruits for my pity-party... I just thought maybe I'd share what I'm struggling with. I share this because life is not perfect, it's hard-- and I've done a lot of overcoming and maybe by sharing our struggles we grow. I've been asking God a lot what am I doing here--this place/stage of life that I'm in-- and why? I have yet to find my niche, my joy, my peace. Somewhere, deep down, I bet God is stretching me and preparing me for something. But I have not found it easy. Maybe God is calling me to go find and don my rain boots and face my puddles and look forward to the metaphorical rainbows that lie ahead--while looking adorable and very stylish in my robot/alien wellies.

The big questions in life.

Adorable.

From "My Friend Is Sad" by Mo Willems.

Ant hill.

I was at a tattoo parlor on Tuesday. No need to trip out... it wasn't for me, I was there for moral support and to give a free ride. My friend was getting a tattoo in Hebrew on her wrist that says "pray." It's absolutely beautiful and very inspiring. Her tattoo artist asked her about it, why she chose Hebrew, and why she chose the word pray. She told him that she is a Christian, and what a great reminder it will be to always pray. Her tattoo artist began to comment on his observation of the Hebrew God and how different the "Old Testament God" is from the "New Testament God." I chimed in that we serve the same God... our God never changes. He is and was and always will be the same. I think people can get so caught up in the misconception of an angry bitter Old Testament God.  In Bruce Almighty, Jim Carey describes God as "a mean kid sitting on an ant hill with a magnifying glass" waiting to burn off our "feelers" and watch us "squirm." I believe this is more or less how that tattoo artist sees God. I talked to him a little bit during the ink session. I understand where he was coming from. I understand that God's ways don't make sense in our minds but in the end, what it comes down to is that God is love. He is not mean, He is good and has always been that way. And here's a little reminder (in song form.)

And remember how Bruce all Mighty ends? Bruce completely changes his view of God after relationship with Him (and of course acquiring all of His powers. A little unorthodox, I know.) Bruce's life is forever changed, he is a happier man in the end and he even gets the girl.

Faultless.

On Sunday morning I went to church. On Monday morning I went to the dentist.


The service Sunday morning was on James 1:19-27. I enjoyed the service and the preacher gave a "good" sermon. In theory all sermons are "good"-- a sermon would only be deemed "bad" if the pastor were spitting blatant lies or the church goer was being convicted in an area they did not feel like being convicted in. No, I think it comes to is this: we call church services "good" IF we were actually paying attention. Allow me to share with you what stood out to me in the service that morning. The pastor reminded us that we are called to "live the Word." He quoted, "Many people mark their Bibles-- but don't let their Bibles mark them." Wow. So how do we "live the Word" and how do allow the Bible to "mark" us? Although there are probably a variety of ways, we can begin with our service. The Bible reminds us in James 1:27, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." The preacher edified and thanked the congregation for all they had done and all the ways that they had served in order to fulfill this mandate. He congratulated them on their many missions trips and successful ministries in Africa and all over the world. It made me cry. Just a little bit. This is where my heart is. I want to help kids for the rest of my life-- I want my life to be a ministry. I'm not exactly sure what it will look like-- but I know I want to look after those in distress and those in need.


Flash forward to Monday morning-- Dentist office
I was in the waiting room-- waiting-- and talking to the receptionist at the desk. She asked me if I was in college, a fair assumption given my age and culture. I told her what I had been doing and where, and she asked me about the conditions of where I had been working. She told me that she lacked any real desire to travel (and do missions) because she didn't want to see. She said she didn't think she could handle seeing people in dire need. I understand that it can be hard to face something so trying as poverty or starvation-- I've never seen starving babies face to face before. There's a lot out there that has yet to break my heart. But her comment made me sad. Because I realized that it is that mentality that prevents so many people from doing something. Ignorance is not bliss. Ignorance is what prevents us from practicing that true and holy, faultless religion that calls us to help those in need. I don't believe that everyone is called to be a missionary in a foreign country-- but I do believe that we are called to open our eyes and take our fingers out of our ears and listen and see the opportunities God has given us to help the less fortunate. And it starts with you.

Fashion.

.Since returning to Michigan, I have been very cold. Today it is 54°F in Petoskey, MI. In Costa Rica it's 80 degrees plus 84% relative humidity. Perhaps you can sympathize with my struggle to adjust. So I've walking around dressed a little something like this....

Who knows. Maybe I'll avoid frostbite and even make  fashion statement.

Culture shock.

I've been in the United States since Tuesday. It's been really hard to adjust so far. I'm having what is called "culture shock." Here is a list of a few things that have been making me trip out.
11. Cold weather-- very very cold weather
10. I can use my cell phone again-- and text.
9. How awesome Starbucks is.
8. When placing an order at a restaurant or coffee shop.... what language do I order in?
7. Multicolored Autumn leaves.
6. Country Music--yuck.
5. Hunting season is coming?
4. Liquid laundry detergent
3. Cable television.
2. Pumping gas at the station.
1. Remind me again where I'm supposed to put the toilet paper? 

Slideshow.

Part of my "homework" for my debrief time in Mexico was to make a slideshow of my time spent in Costa Rica. Enjoy!

Leaving.

I haven't updated my blog in quite sometime. I haven't felt like writing much lately. You see, I leave Costa Rica on Saturday and I'm not sure if I can think of much more than that. And I'd rather not think about it. But the approach of my departure is immanent and I regret to say that I started packing tonight. The only consolation I can find at the moment in jamming out to The Beatles on Youtube. Although I feel incapable of expressing my feelings-- the "bitter-sweetness" of leaving (oh how I hate that cliche)-- I will tell you the "plan" so you know what to expect and when. I will refer to it as "the plan" because I'm not sure if I'm ready to accept it. Saturday morning I leave Costa Rica-- the place that's been my home for the last several months. I will have to leave Jaco in the middle of the night Saturday in order to make it to San Jose for my 6:55 am flight. I will be traveling with Lisa who has been my side kick and friend since January. We arrive in San Diego, CA at 8:32 pm. We will be picked up and then drive across the border into Mexico. Did I mention I hate traveling? I will be spending ten days in Mexico visiting my friends, debriefing my time in Costa Rica with my school, picking up my things that I left there, and saying goodbye. On September 20th, I fly from San Diego to Detroit, Michigan. A few days later I plan on returning to my home town Petoskey. And that my friends is the plan for my departure from Costa Rica and my return to the Great Lake State. This is going to be a super hard time for me and please continue to pray for me. See you all soon.

Wash your mouth out with soap.

Every afternoon when I work at the ramp, a child always comes to me telling me all about a crisis that they are in. "He's not sharing." "He hit me." "He called me a ........"
When it comes to the "not sharing" crisis, I usually start by asking, "Did you ask him for it?" A lot of the times the crisis is resolved by just reminding the kids to ask each other to share and say "Por favor."
"He hit me," can usually be resolved by reassuring the kids that it was probably and accident or telling the offender that fighting and hitting is not allowed. At the ramp we have fun and play... we don't fight.
"He called me a....." is usually where I run into problems. Part of the problem is that I have only learned so many curse words in Spanish. They don't teach you those words in high school. Sometimes the problem is that I don't actually know when a child is using a "bad word." I can usually pick up on a verbal fight when I hear the phrase, "Your grandma!" Insulting someone's grandma is a pretty big offense. I have found that solving this crisis is a little more difficult for me. I often don't actually hear the insult and have to go of the word off the offended. And what do you say to that anyway? It stumps me a lot of the time. It's not like I can just haul them into the bathroom and wash their mouth out with soap. I hardly think that would solve the problem. I tell them that here, at the ramp, we don't talk like that. So I tell them that saying bad words is sin and that this place is a place where we glorify the name of the Lord. We glorify Him with our actions and words. If they can't do that, they cannot play at the ramp. 
A few weeks ago, a little boy says, "LIZZZZZZZZZZ! That girl gave me the finger!!!" I did not actually see this happen so I told him to calm down and remember that he was responsible for himself and his actions and to pay her no mind. I told him that he is not to give her the finger back because that's sin. He turned to me and asked, "So you never say bad words?" I told him that I honestly try not to. But in all honesty this morning I hit my elbow really hard and I said a bad word. I don't normally curse. Like I said, I honestly try not to. But it makes me think, I tell kids almost everyday to glorify the Lord in all their actions. But I think what it really comes down to in the end is this: Do I glorify the Lord in everything that I do? 

The Finger.

Today Yalixa, one of the little girls at the kindergarten I work at, did something kind of funny. She said, "Excuse me teacher. This weekend I hit one of my friends." The teacher responded with a look of disappointment and told her that we don't hit other people. Yalixa said, "But teacher she gave me the finger." The teacher said, "Oh that's just terrible! You should have told her mother instead of hitting her." Yalixa said, "Her mother doesn't care." Her teacher replied, "Well then you just tell her you don't play with mean children." At this point classmate Britanie decided to chime in. She put her hand like this

motioning to the pinky and index finger and asked, "Which finger did she give you?" Yalixa responded and said, "No, no. It was THIS one....." and showed poor little Britanie which one it was.......

Monopoly.

I took a video of this little boy and I playing Monopoly. I think it pretty much sums up my relationship with him. And it made me realize just how often I say the word 'verdad.' Oops. Guess I need to expand my vocabulary. :)

Ps. If you would like to receive a newsletter to read about what else I'm doing (other than playing Monopoly) please send your email adress to lizm_10@hotmail.com. God bless :)

My life goal...

Food.

Last week I made salsa. In San Jose I struck lucky and had the good fortune of meeting a Mexican who was more than willing to share a salsa recipe with me. I have been missing spicy Mexican food ever since I left Mexico (way back in April.) And so I found myself bitten by the "cooking-bug." In Costa Rica, the typical food has more of a sweet taste and I was appalled to find out that for the most part, they don't like spicy food! Blasphemy to my ears! So Liz took a trip to the local grocer and paid far to much for a pack of Jalapeños in order to appease her jonesing for a little kick in her "comida." In the United States we are blessed with the option to buy one Jalapeño at a time (usually the proper amount for any enjoyable food) if we so desire. This is not so in Costa Rica. For a salsa that called for one Jalapeño, I found myself buying ten. Well worth it. Off to the kitchen I went, not exactly sure of what I was up to. I pulled out a frying pan and plopped in a Jalapeño and a half. Although the recipe only called for one Jalapeño, I had used part of one the day before in my cooking and decided, "Why not add in an extra half? It needs to be used up anyway.... What can it hurt?" Perhaps too much spice is the reason people say "everything in moderation." But I proceeded to fry up my peppers. I was told to fry them up until blackened along with a tomato. I put a tomato in the pan and immediately thought to myself, "What on earth are you doing?" It did not put my mind at ease when the tomato started to hiss. Frying tomatoes is not necessarily a normal custom back home in the U.S. and for that reason I began to doubt my super chef skills. Plus, it's very difficult to blacken a tomato that only wants to roll around the pan. But carry on I did, ever wondering if the tomato would stop hissing or if it would blow up in my face. It did. (Just kidding.) I began to think what other fruits do you fry? Isn't that just a bit odd? I realized that I eat fried fruit almost every week. Make that deep fried fruit. Rice and beans are the staple diet here in Costa Rica (probably in every other Latin American country as well.) And with those rice and beans deep fried plantains are the norm. I'm not sure if I had ever really eaten a plantain prior to living here, and now I eat them regularly. And though it may seem a bit strange to you that we deep fry our plantains, it's actually quite tasty and helps keep the rice and beans from getting too boring. And so I fried up the tomato and Jalapeño and a half until I could stand it no more and put them onto a plate for a bit of dissection. You see that even though I was supposed to blacken my ingredients, the next step of the recipe called that I peel off the blacked areas. Interesting. I attempted to do so with burning myself although my lack of patience would not hear of it. After this was said and done... into the blender they went with a bit of onion and a clove of garlic. I pushed blend until my creation had turned into a hideous shade of dark olive green. I thought, "Oh dear, what have I done?!" I opened the lid and decided to take a whiff to see if it would be any good. My sinuses have never been so clear in my life. With one little sniff I was sent into a coughing spree. I could tell that it was going to be good salsa. I dipped a finger in just to try a little bit. Daring of me I know. With one little taste my tongue was sent into a full on blaze and I could hear myself screaming in my head, "WHY did you add that EXTRA half a Jalapeño?!?!!" I had done it. I had succeeded making a very spicy salsa. My craving for spicy food? Satisfied. And the salsa? After sharing it and giving much of it away.... there is still some left in my fridge being slowing eaten up one teaspoon at a time because that's about as much as I can stand.

Using your gifts.

I think it was last Friday. It was about two o’clock and we had just opened the ramp. I was in my house taking my last few swallows of very old coffee before I ventured out to brave the jungle of wild children that I knew awaited me. I was chit chatting with Leslie and Lisa when the sound of a very loud, “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO,” came ringing through the air. And whose voice might it be you ask? It was little David and he knew that he was not supposed to be that far back in the rancho. Lisa jumped up to see what exactly it was that he was up to when he shouted up to her, “NO! The OTHER one!” You see, I am often referred to as “the other one.” These days, Lisa and I are fairly interchangeable and our names are very similar (especially with Spanish pronunciation.)  And so I took a step outside to see what he wanted. Wide-eyed and grinning ear to ear he told me, “I brought you a gift!” "You brought me a gift?” I asked. “Yes! Come see!” he said and in his hand was a bag. Are you familiar with those “go green” bags? You know the recyclable grocery bags with witty sayings? He had one of those and waited as I discovered what was inside. He had brought me a little white teddy bear about the size of my palm. As if that wasn’t sweet enough, the recycle bag was also part of my gift. He pointed to each word on the bag and read to me what was printed on it, “I want a better world."I gave him a BIG hug and we walked around the ramp showing some people my new gift before I went inside to put my bear on display.

Let me tell you a little bit about David. Although he is only nine, his feet are bigger than mine. And although his feet are bigger than mine, his shoes are smaller than mine. When I asked him about it he told me that he has to walk with his toes bent and that it hurts his feet. That's probably why he always walks around the rancho barefoot. He wears the same short almost every day. They are full of holes. When he is not spending time at the ramp, he sits outside one of the super markets begging people for money or food. Although David is nine he has a very difficult time controlling his emotions and relating to other children.  He is often on the brink of crisis. He would fight and cry and throw inconsolable fits when he first started coming to the ramp. Turns out though, it got better. It gets better. For the most part, these days, David behaves himself pretty well. We have discovered that David can control himself and have be and be fun IF he has a “buddy.” What this means is that between the three workers at the ramp one of them commits to being David’s buddy for the day. If David has someone to watch him, play with him, and encourage him, he behaves and enjoys himself. And so David has become my little friend. I’m not always his “buddy.” Sometimes we switch on and off on buddy-patrol. But either way, David loves me and brought me a little bear and a bag. You ought to see this sad little bear. It's a little white puff ball clutching little white and red flowers between it's paws. There's a stain right between it's beady little eyes. The best part is, there's glue marks on it's back and bottom. He clearly pulled it off a greeting card or a bouquet of flowers. I have no idea where he got it, or how, but I love it. What a blessing and encouragement it was for me to receive that bear. It's reassurance that me being here is actually doing some good and an inspiration to be a better buddy. 

The Karate Kid in all of us.

When I was a kid one of my favorite things to do was wrestle with my dad. I always won too. I remember one time in elementary school I was telling my friend Josh how strong I was because I always won when I wrestled with my dad. I didn't believe him when he told me that my dad was probably just letting me win. We are blessed to have fond childhood memories. We are entitled to them. Childhood should be filled with loving memories of times spent with our parents. But for some kids it isn't. Some kids don't get to pretend they're the Karate Kid and try out their new moves on their poor defenseless dad. But fortunately for the children at risk in Jaco, Costa Rica, there's a Scott Freeman to be a surrogate punching bag (and I mean that in the best way possible.) This afternoon I had the priveledge to watch four kids beat up my "boss" Scott Freeman. Usually I freak out when there's fighting at the ramp, but for today, it was okay. I'm not sure how it started, but it was a lot of fun to watch. I watched four young boys gang up and take on Scott. You should have seen their faces light up with every swing and kick. What a blessing it was for those four little boys to be able to play and goof off with a male role model. I was blessed by just watching this scene. I wish that every kid had that kind of opportunity. Can you imagine the world if every child had a dad or a Scott in their lives?

Shortly after the sparring session, a water fight broke out. Hoses, plastic cups, pans, and buckets were involved. I had so much fun. The kids had so much fun. By the end of the battle, it looked like a thunder storm had decided only to visit our little property. Water was everywhere and everyone was soaked. You cannot schedule that kind of joy. You cannot plan for that kind of spontaneous, crazy joy. It comes naturally from relationship. It comes from playing monopoly and coloring with kids for hours on end until they trust you and love you enough to dump a bucket of water all over your head. They can splash and soak you and know that they are loved. They know that they are loved and they expect to be splashed right back. So we finished off our day wet and happy with our love tanks filled to the brim, and it looked a little something like this.

Shall we color?

Coloring with a new friend!

She even drew a picture of me! Crown and all!

Super duper.

I once read an article by Steve Bartel about motivations for working with children. I feel almost haunted by that article sometimes. It asks the reader to thoroughly examine their motives for wanting to do ministry. Basically (if I remember correctly) there are several motives for working with children, ranging from the good, the bad, and the ugly. For example some people are motivated by pity, for a need for redemption, compassion, and even pedophilia. The point of the article was what is your motivation for working with kids? What makes you tick? What makes me tick? Once we have drawn a conclusion or come up with some sort if answer…. We have to ask ourselves, "Is that a good answer??" Right now I work with kids. I’m at that awkward age/stage when I’m still trying to decide what to do with my life and wondering if I’ll ever figure it out. Do I want to work with young children for the rest of my life? And where?? I ask myself this question every day. In the morning I’ll have one answer and by lunch time I’m already imaging my life going in a completely different direction. And so I ask myself, “Why are you here? And is this something you want  to do forever?” I think to myself… Well I like it here. I’m learning a lot and having a lot of fun. I can’t really see myself anywhere else so why not? But that’s not such a good answer now is it? I think I got started doing this whole missions thing with this “out-to-save-the-world” complex. I see all of the injustice and sadness in the world and I feel compelled to do something. I feel compelled to don a red cape and fly off and fix the world. Rock my super hero hair and go do justice. But that’s not really realistic is it? And that feeling fades. See the thing is sometimes you don’t feel much like saving the world when your exhausted and your throat hurts from telling kids not to fight and all you want is a cup of joe, a little peace, and a really good book. And so I thought, “Why am I here? What should my motivation really be?”

I was reading Proverbs this morning and on a whim decided to flip to the book of Acts. In Acts chapter three, Peter heals a cripple beggar. As the story goes on in chapter four, the Sadducees are at it again trying to convict Peter and John of doing something bad. Just like how Clark Kent never gets Lois Lane, so it seems to go with all super heroes. Whenever you do good, something always comes about to bite you in the butt. And so for Peter, it was the Sadducees. The Sadducees finally agree to let Peter and John go on the account that they stop proclaiming the name of Jesus Christ. This is what they said, “Judge for yourselves whether it is right in God’s sight to obey you rather than God. For we cannot help speaking about what we have seen and heard (Acts 4:19-20.)” That really struck me. That is why I should do missions. Because I “cannot help speaking about what [I] have seen and heard.” Because Jesus loves me and I love Jesus who loves children and so I love children. Make sense? And Jesus makes a way better super hero than I do. I’ll let Him be super and be available for Him to work through me. That's motivation enough for me.

"Be the change you wish to see in the world." -Mahatma Ghandi

Book....

Have you ever really been wrapped up in a good book? When I get really into a good book, I spend all my time reading. If I really truly love the book I will postpone doing homework, daily tasks, chores, and even going to bed at a decent hour all in the name of finishing my book. Lately I feel like my life has been like a really good book. I’ve been really wrapped up in what I’m doing here in Jaco. I’ve postponed writing my blog, responding to emails, and plucking my eyebrows because I’ve been really wrapped up in my life here in Jaco. And this post is my attempt to get back into the swing of things. (And don’t worry, I plucked my eyebrows yesterday.)

Do you ever feel yourself changing? Maybe it’s a part of what they call “growing up.” I love working with kids. I love playing house, coloring, and laughing with little children. I pictured spending my life working with young children. But over the last couple months I began to feel God tug on my heart and speak to me about teenagers. Did not see that one coming but I thought, “Well okay God. I can do that. That will be something nice to do when I’m thirty. When I’m wise and experienced, married with a ‘mom hair cut,’ and where sun dresses everyday no matter the weather.” I can manage that when I’m thirty. About a month or so ago, I shared this vision with my good friend Robbie. I told her how that one day when I’m ready I’d like to work with adolescent girls through relationship and maybe even art. I also told her that day that I was not ready for that kind of thing. She looked at me and said, “Actually I think you are.” I flatly rejected that idea and immediately shot her down. I did not like being a teenager and have just nearly escaped teenager-dom. I’d much rather work with teenagers when I have something worth sharing--- life experience so to speak. But nonetheless Robbie told me again that she really did think I was “ready” and should give it a try. Only over the last two weeks have I really taken her seriously. From only being in Jaco for two months I have seen a lot of the crap that goes on here. And as much as I’d like to don a cape, fly off, and save the whole world, I know that I can’t. And although this makes me sad I don’t want to let it discourage me. I want to help as best as I can. There is a really cool church here that is super involved in the community. They have a youth group full of some really awesome teenagers.  I would really like to get to know them. To be able to just hang out and make friendships and most of all encourage them in their walks with the Lord. And so at the whopping age of nineteen, I’m going to help out in a youth group. Even with my lack of life experience and even though my hair and my Spanish are far from perfect. 

Lisa and I are going to try to get more involved in this youth group. We’re going to plan the weekly games for the youth group and even lead a small group. I’m excited. Nervous but excited. Leading a small group in Spanish is going to be quite a challenge for me. It’s much easier just to color with kindergartners. But I think this will be good. I’m going to learn a lot and I hope that I will be able to share as much as a possibly can. I hope that God will be able to use me to help out in this youth group. If you’d like to help me help out this youth group that is helping out this church that is helping out Jaco, I’d love to hear any suggestions that anyone has for fun games to do with teens! Any ideas or suggestions are super appreciated. Please continue to pray for me and my Spanish as I carry on living out this exciting story that God has written for me. 

The Dentist.

No one likes going to the dentist. At least when you go to the doctor, they give you a lollipop if you behave yourself. Not so at the dentist. Candy rots your teeth. If you behave yourself at the dentist, you get a toothbrush. Whooped-dee-doo. It occurred to me that if you want to go to the dentist, something must be wrong. I want to go to the dentist. You see the problem is that on Tuesday night I chipped my tooth. One of my front teeth. As I’m sure you can imagine, I’d love to get this fixed. Getting this fixed will cost about $44 , which is not very expensive compared to the United States however on account of I have no income whatsoever, a problem arises. The problem is I have a chipped tooth and not a lot of money. It occurred to me that a lot of things are like going to the dentist when you have a chipped tooth. Like paying bills. There is nothing good about a chipped tooth or paying bills. And yet in life, the dentist and bills are inevitable. Paying rent and bills without any income is a lot like going to the dentist to get a tooth fixed without any money… it just doesn’t happen. However this is how I see my life here in Costa Rica. I am only here by the grace of God and the generous donations of my supporters. And I have a lot to be thankful for. For example, on the property where I live there is now a washer and dryer. This is a huge blessing and an obvious convenience. And on top of that, the price per wash and dry was lowered from five dollars to three dollars. This is a super reasonable price compared to the cost of going to a laundry mat, which would cost about eight dollars per load. Also, an even bigger blessing is that the cost of my rent has been lowered. Originally we had been planning to pay $550 a month and very graciously our rent has been lowered to $425 a month. Praise God. That is a big difference. However with this good news comes some sad news. Sad news for me at least. My roommate Roberta has decided that God is calling her in another direction and she will be living about an hour away in San Jose. She left Wednesday morning at six o’clock. She will be working with the Youth with a Mission base there and helping staff the upcoming Children at Risk School. And although I am excited for this opportunity she has, I am sad that she is gone and will miss seeing my roommate and very close friend. Logistically speaking, this also means for my roommate Lisa and I our cost of rent has gone up. Per person our rent has gone up about thirty dollars, which would have otherwise been able to cover about the cost of a food for a week. I am no number cruncher. Numbers stress me out. So do things like figuring out cost and expenses. I hate to say (and am afraid to say) that I can feel myself growing up. It’s pretty scary. Per week, I spend about $30-40 on groceries. My rent contribution per month will be $212.50. The electricity bill will be around $60 a month. In my possession, I have your donations and a chipped tooth. I’m not sure how you fit into all of this. If you would like to pay to fix my tooth that would be wonderful and a huge blessing. But more importantly I need prayer. God is bigger than all of my numbers. Isn’t that wonderful? I sure think so. So I ask you, would you please keep me in your prayers? I sure do need them. Pray that I can see past all these numbers and bills. Pray that I remain encouraged. Pray that the money I need comes. Pray that I am frugal with what I have! Or whatever the Lord brings to heart to pray. Maybe after all my expenses won’t be like going to the dentist. Maybe, hopefully, it won’t be something I’ll have to worry about. Maybe, just maybe it will be something I can be joyful about because paying my bills means that I can stay in Jaco as long as God has me here. 

If you’d like to pay for me to go to the dentist or help me out financially:

Donations can be send to: 

YWAM San Diego/Baja

Liz Moss-CRS Tijuana

100 W 35th Street Suite C

National City, CA 91950

(checks must be made out to Liz Moss)

And send me an email, prayer, and/or encouragement at: lizm_10@hotmail.com

Love,

liz :)

Honestly blessed.

There are so many things here in Jaco that warm my heart. Sometimes I wonder why God chose to bless me so much. I am blessed every morning when I see the many smiles of the students I work with. I am so blessed by their imagination, creativity, and play. There is a little boy named Delvin who makes me laugh so hard I want to fall out of my chair. Last week he was drawing and coloring with my friend Lisa. The theme was animals and natural resources. Lisa soon discovered that helping a small Costa Rican boy draw animals is difficult if you don’t actually understand him or the language. Delvin, being a bright young boy, decided to translate himself for Lisa as best as he could. He said the name of the animal, acted it out, and mimicked the noise of that animal. This was especially humorous for me because I understood which animal he said before he made the noise. He pretended to be a “pajaro” (by flapping his arms like he was flying,) oinked like a “cerdo", and quacked like a “pato.” You should have seen his face when I asked him what sound a giraffe makes. Every day Delvin makes me laugh and I am so blessed by the laughs we share. Every morning I ride my bike past the most beautiful valley. Sometimes I like to think God made it just for me. It’s so green and in the morning the sun hits it just right and it is simply breathtaking. I love seeing it every day and am reminded of just how much God loves me. A few days ago one of my students Debony asked the teacher if we could have “good morning hugs.” We were sitting in a circle and each child was supposed to take a turn hugging the child on their left. When my turn came to be hugged ALL of the children jumped out of their seats to hug me and tell me good morning. I was so filled with joy. What a wonderful start to my morning. Very few times has my heart felt so warm or loved. This morning we made horse masks. We colored them, cut them out, and tied string to the sides so they would stay in place. Most of the children galloped when they put their masks on. Some just made funny faces. But not Brandon. Brandon put on his mask and proceeded to moo. He wore his horse mask and mooed all morning. It was hysterical. I was enjoying it far too much to teach him how to neigh. It is things like these short stories that reassures just how blessed I really am. There is so much joy around me. There are so many things that truly warm my heart.

But of course, not everything here warms my heart. The fact that I spent Sunday afternoon cleaning with my roommates because our house was INFESTED with maggots did not warm my heart. The heat and constant uncomfortable sweating does not warm my heart. I find my mind full of nagging thought and doubts about my finances or lack thereof. Always wondering if I can really afford to do this. My fatigue, tiredness, and discouragement do not warm my heart. The sheer quantity of all the messed up stuff here in Jaco is so overwhelming. What can I even do? Where could I even start? The dissatisfaction and frustration I feel with myself because I find myself feeling frustrated and discouraged does not warm my heart. I get so down on myself so much for getting frustrated. Why can’t I speak the language? Why can’t I understand them? Why can’t I be more patient? Why am I so tired and discouraged? Why am I not better? A better Christian? A better missionary? A better person? These thoughts do not warm my heart. In fact sometimes, some days, I feel like they’re all I see. And I am no pessimist. I love joy and I love being joyful. And I think is why I am so blessed. Not because I deserve it, but just because God loves me. And my heart is warm. And although I struggle and get frustrated, I am reminded of why I’m here every time I hear a silly boy in a horse mask moo. I am reminded of the joy Lord. This is not a “poor me”or a “Debbie-downer” blog entry. This is a real blog entry. This is an honest blog entry. Because this is my life. And sometimes I need a written reminder that my blessings exceed my struggles.  Maybe you needed a written reminder too. And I hope this helps.

Philippians 4:4-7 "Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice! Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do. Remember, the Lord is coming soon.Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus."

Thoughts on being bad.

“As a technique in therapy, I once looked down a little girl’s throat and declared that there was really a good kid inside. I saw that she had a good heart. ‘Are you sure?’ She asked. ‘Look again!’” – Attaching in Adoption by Deborah D. Gray

I read this passage in a book yesterday and I couldn’t help but be touched by it. “…..there was really a good kid inside.” I work with kids at risk. It’s difficult and even after only a month, I find myself getting discouraged at times. I’m only just getting started and I see challenges everywhere. Rowdy and poorly-behaved children. Mean children. Children who have been told all their lives the same thing: That they are bad. When I look at the children that I have been working with, I begin to ask myself some difficult questions. What do these children think of themselves? What have they been told? How do people treat them? What does God think of them? And how will I choose to think of them? I’d like to think that I will be the kind of person who will see the good kid inside. I will tell them to open up and say, “Ahhh,” as I search for the hope and kindness inside of them. That I will look past the shame and the hurt and search for that light and glimmer of the good kid inside. That I will love them as best as I can and choose everyday to be a tangible example of God’s love.

Jose. I met a little boy in a blue striped shirt on Saturday at kid’s club. His name was Jose. He is temperamental, easily frustrated, angry, and most of all violent. I didn’t need much warning that he was “difficult.” Just before craft time he and a boy began fighting and I saw how quickly it would escalate. I ran over, pulled the boys apart, put myself in between them, and grabbed Jose as the other boy ran off. How was I to handle this? It occurred to me that probably every time Jose  made a mistake, he was probably hit or probably even beaten. My guess is that was probably where he learned to fight. He is probably yelled at and told just how bad he really is. Is he ever shown love? How would God want me to handle this situation? I wrapped my arm around him and held him as he pulled away and threw punches. I held  him and said, “Shh…. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.” I held him until the punches stopped and his breathing slowed. When I felt that he had calmed himself down and told him that he had done a good job. I let him run off back towards the crafts without saying a word to me. How often do you think a boy like that gets hugged? Is he less worthy of a hug because the world has deemed him bad? I think not. I made and extra special effort to tell Jose what an artist he was and what an excellent job he was doing on his craft. I hope that my encouragement will stay with him. May I always see that good kid inside. You can pray for Jose. Pray that he will see the good kid inside himself. I honestly believe that it would change his life.

Working with Jose at kid’s club on Saturday is not the only ministry I do. Monday-Friday I work in a kindergarten with ten kids. I love it. The kids are so adorable and so funny. I can’t wait to write all about them. I can’t wait to have time to write all about them. Tuesday through Friday we open up the skate ramp in the afternoons and hang out with the guys who come. Friday night I went out and helped feed some homeless people during the pouring rain. On Saturday I helped out kid’s club (and Jose) and went to youth group. At midnight my friends and I got up and went out to pray for the prostitutes. In my spare time I read books about children at risk and more importantly I read my Bible and relax and spend time with God. It makes all the difference in whether or not I’m able to see the good kid inside like God does. God is good. I hope that my life will be a reflection of that.

First day on the Job.

Imagine a school house. It might look like something you’d see in a picture book.  It’s painted green, not unlike the grass and trees that surround it. There are flowers in planters surrounding the walk ways that lead to the other school rooms that have been happily painted orange. The green school room  for kindergartners is not much more that a rectangular building that stands by itself in the front corner of a very small school yard. The inside is painted blue as if to match the pale blue uniforms worn by the children who learn in this classroom. There are six desks in the three primary colors: red, blue, and yellow, that join together to make a hexagon. There are two little seats at each table. Toys, play dough, paints, and a play house surround the walls of this little one room classroom. There are ten little students with combed hair who great the morning by singing a song saying, “Good morning teacher, good morning teacher, How are you, How are you?” They then continue on to sing the days of the week and months of the year. This week is National Nutrition and Health week in Costa Rica and these four boys and six girls will be spending the rest of the week learning about how and why to eat healthy. When their teacher asked them this morning what is their favorite food, all but one said rice. That little boy told us his favorite food was mango. I am truly in Costa Rica.  I will be spending the next five months with these kids. I am excited for when they learn to love us and tug on our shirts and ask us to play. Most of them seem uneasy at our pale faces. They don’t know us and I honestly cannot remember most of their names. Most seem shy. There’s a boy who just likes to play and have fun. There’s a small boy who yells—for no apparent reason. And there’s a little girl who is fun, and extraverted, and a little bit bossy. She tells the boy who yells what to do and to stop yelling. I imagine she’s something like I would have been at her age. I am excited for what is to come and when I know them all. When the shy child is no longer just a shy child—but a unique and lovable creation of God. I am excited for the funny stories that are to come and for the happy memories that are to come. I am so happy to have this experience although I imagine that it will be hard. There will be days when I am tired and frustrated, but I know this will be one of the most cherished times in my life. How many other people are blessed with this kind of opportunity? 

What's Next. And I'm Stoked!

I've never been to Disney Land. I imagine it is wonderful and something like a wish coming true for any child. You know that feeling you get when you are really excited? I am not a person to hide excitement. I dance, I jump, I shout, I sing. This is the kind of excitement I imagine that children who are fortunate enough to go to Disney Land experience. This is the kind of excitement that I experienced when Leslie told us our next step in Jaco....


I have spent the last two weeks in San Jose, Costa Rica. It's about an hour and a half from where we live in Jaco. We came here for two reasons: Learn Spanish and help out with Metro Ministries. In the morning I would wake up to my Ipod quacking at me and wonder why I ever set my alarm to be the sound of a duck. I would then spend several minutes debating on whether or not I actually wanted breakfast and why breakfast at the San Jose base is served at 6:30 in the morning. The rest of the morning consisted of Spanish class until noon and several cups of coffee. Robbie, Lisa, and I hired a tutor to help us learn Spanish. I learned all of my Spanish in Mexico. I thought I was getting pretty good, and then, I switched countries. For those of you English speakers, the accents are different somewhat like the accents between the USA and the UK are different. If you are from Michigan, the best anology I can give is comparing the accent of someone from the Mitten and a Yooper. Perhaps you can now better indentify with my struggle to adjust. And so I used this time to cram a little more Spanish into my head and try to acclimate best I could to Central American Spanish.


Do you ever meet people who make you say, "Wow,"? Picture Renate Fast. Renate is wow. Renate is a German missionary in Costa Rica. She speaks German, English, and Spanish and almost single handedly runs a children's ministry in three locations throughout San Jose. Not to mention, she's got a pretty cool name (it means 'Born Again" in Latin.) Renate is in charge of Metro Ministries and the Youth With a Mission base here in the capital. Metro Ministries started in the Bronx and our dear Renate has continued it here. I could not tell you the number of kids she works with. Take the number of your fingers and your toes and multiply it by a lot. She works with about that many kids. And so we tried to help her and the ministry out in any way we could. We made animal masks for a drama, pin the tail on the donkey cut-out, and helped put on the program. I think that my favorite aspect of this ministry is that Renate does a thing called visitations. On the days that she is not putting on a program for the kids, she drives out to their neighborhoods to spend time with the kids. She stops by their homes and talks with their mothers. She makes a real effort. You can tell that she cares and through these visitations she really gets to know the kids and what life is like for them outside of the weekly program she puts on. This is the kind of thing I want to do in Jaco.


And so you ask, "What is it that you will be doing in Jaco? What is it you are all excited about?" Let me enlighten you. Robbie and Lisa are my roomies, my friends, encouragers, and my team mates. We will be working along side YWAMers Scott and Leslie Freeman and their ministry in Jaco. And so when Leslie began telling us earlier this week what exactly that means, I'm sure you can imagine how excited I was. Leslie began like this, "Last week I went to go check out a school, that I thought you might be able to help out with. The kids from the poorer community go there and I was thinking you could work at the preschool. But when I arrived I just got a funny feeling, like something wasn't right." At this point, my heart sank. I had just been thinking how great it would be to work with preschoolers! "And sure enough, the people weren't super friendly at the school and they already had enough volunteers," Leslie said and I tried to hide my frown. "But I started praying and asking God what He wanted for you girls! And I remembered another school I had visited about two years ago but I couldn't remember for the life of me where it was!" To make a long story short, Leslie kept praying and God showed her exactly where the school is and they were more than excited to hear about the prospect of three volunteers. And so I start Monday! My team and I will be working in a preschool with ten students. How cool is that? Aren't you excited for me?! It sounds like my kind of kids ministry! I can't wait to tell you all about it. And I really hope to take what I learned these last two weeks in San Jose. I can't wait to get back to Jaco and meet these kids. I feel like a kid headed for adventure at Disney Land. ;)