So Long, 319-461-4346

This afternoon I'm canceling my cell phone service. This might be the hardest thing I've given up so far.  (Obviously - relationships excluded.)

Harder than my car.
Harder than my cast iron skillet.
Harder even than my favorite jeans, y'all...

It's not that I'm all that much of a techie, or anything. I didn't even have a smart phone. Maybe that's it, though - I've had the same phone for over 5 years. I've had this number even longer - probably almost a dozen years. I was kind of attached.

This was the phone that got me through the long illness and death of my mother-in-law. It's what I used to call my family and tell them about the birth of our youngest child. I spent five years lobbying using this phone. Making endless phone calls on it. Giving out this number. It represented comfort. Connection. Versatility. Safety.

I've spoken with the current governor of Iowa on this phone, folks. For real.

<sigh>

It's the phone I spent hours and hours and hours and hours and hours (you get the point) talking to my loved ones on. I'm pretty sure my children have, at various times, thought that it was semi-permanently attached to my head.

I've laughed with this phone. Cried with this phone. Fought using this phone. It's been there with me for some of my very best and very hardest moments.

Well, so long 319-461-4346. It's been good knowing you. And, though it's hard to give it (and all that it represents) up, I know that I know that I know that I can trust God and how He's leading me. He will never leave me, nor forsake me, and He'll be with me always - even to the end of the age. I guess if He doesn't need a cell phone in order to lead me, I don't really need a cell phone to do His work, either.

(And, for what it's worth - we still have Facebook [Andrea Lemke Farrier], email [farriersoffaith@yahoo.com], Skype [andrealemkefarrier], Magic Jack, etc, etc, etc, through which we can communicate. Guess I don't really have anything to feel sad about after all, do I!?) :)

Getting a Good Start

I do not know how to be a missionary.

Is that too honest?  To the ones who support us, is that too truthful?  Does that make you consider withdrawing your support?

Hopefully you knew me well enough to know that before I wrote this.  That you knew (even before I did) that this would be a process.  That this is like starting at a first job, and it would take me a while to grab on to the things that it takes to go out and share Jesus with people and help in whatever way I can.

For the last three weeks we have been traveling down to the border of Texas where will meet up with people we are working with and go into Mexico and then Guatemala.  Along the way, we’ve been visiting with family and friends before leaving the country.  It has been a very fruitful time

I have been looking for opportunities to minister to people, but it was hard. Anytime I saw someone that I thought looked good to minister to, people were around and I was not sure how they would react. I kept praying for a moment to minister, because that is my job now – right?  To minister to people’s needs?  Isn’t that why people are supporting us?  Why should I wait for Guatemala?  That is where I am called to go, but there are plenty of people to tag along the way, so to speak.

 

So, on our way down to Brownsville on Wednesday night, we had to stop to repair the Jeep again.  The seal around the windshield was coming out and we needed to stop for a potty break and to get tape to hold it together until I could get it fixed the next day.

While I was putting the tape on, a man came up and started talking to me.  He was saying how he was waiting for his job to start, and that he could wash our vehicle while we waited.  His accent was very thick and it was hard for me to catch everything he said.  I knew that the Lord has set this situation up, so I could get my start in ministering, and bless this man who was definitely on hard times.

Here is the problem - I had no idea what to do.  Do I give him money?  Offer him a Bible?  Ask if he is saved?  Pray for him?  So I did what any intelligent man would do: I waited for backup.  Luckily she came out while this man and I engaged in small talk.

See, unlike myself, Andrea has experience talking with people about these things. She has been in these situations way more often.  So as she came up I said to her quietly “help”, and then we were a team.  I told him I did not need my vehicle cleaned but could I give him some money to help him out. Andrea asked if he wanted a bible, which he took, and then we prayed for him, with Andrea leading the prayer.  We shook hands with him and left, but when we got in the car, we prayed more for him.

Thank goodness for a good wife and a good God to lead to a situation to bless someone in His name.

This may seem small, but I will not despise small beginnings (Zech. 4:10).  I have big dreams of what I want to do for Christ, but I have to start somewhere.   

I am just excited for the next opportunity to help.

 

Did We Remember The Hammer?

You know how sometimes you think you've got something figured out, only to find out later what it *really* means?

Feels like that's what we're doing right now.

We're getting close. Like, really, really close. One week from today we'll be arriving in Xela and starting our new lives, which is awesome. And exciting. And very fun. But, that also means that we're getting farther and farther from our old lives. (Which is kinda scary.)

It's been hitting us in waves the last few days - how much we're leaving behind. Galatians 5:24 tells us to crucify the desires and passions of the flesh. I used to think that only meant things like debauchery, drunkenness, gluttony, etc... (You know - the obviously fleshly stuff.) I don't really have a problem with those things. But, I'm coming to find out, more and more, that our flesh also desires stuff that looks pretty non-fleshly, and Jesus meant we're supposed to crucify those things as well.

Like, say, Mark's noble and worthwhile desire to continue advancing in his profession...

...someone hand him a nail.

Or, Rachel's desire to get a job, learn to drive, and do all the other long-dreamed-of things 14 year olds do...

...someone hand her a nail.

And let's not forget my deep, abiding passion for sleeping late in my dearly-beloved bed <sigh>...

...someone hand me a nail.

(Alright, I admit it - some of these desires may seem a bit more selfish and petty than others. 

But, they are in need of being nailed to the cross just as much as the rest.)

Something tells me that, as the days, weeks, and months pass by, I will be struck by three deep and important truths:

1.) Crucifying our desires and passions of the flesh isn't nearly as difficult in hindsight as it is in progress. 

2.) I only thought I had this process all figured out. I bet I'll continue to discover what it *really*, *really* means. 

3.) Jesus is much bigger than anything I will face, and He'll be with me through it all.

Amen.

...so someone hand me a nail.

Blessed

We are so incredibly blessed.

For the past twelve days we've been enveloped in the embrace of our beloved friends and family as we travel south to Guatemala. We've been staying with our loved ones, re-visiting our favorite locations and experiences where they live, and just spending time with these precious people we've been blessed with.

It's been good. Like, really, really, really good. The kind of good that most people can only dream of.

We haven't done anything extravagent or expensive. These locations aren't the hottest, most sought-after vacation locales. (Ok - we're staying on an island in the Gulf Coast right now, but still...)  I can't help but feel deeply, profoundly, incredibly blessed.

We took in stunning Iowa vistas - watching the wind make rippling waves in the tall grass.

We held baby bunnies, chased kittens, and got licked by long-lashed heifers.

We roasted marshmallows and made s'mores after a leisurely day of playing some of our favorite card games with some of our favorite people.

We've gathered around tables all over and eaten hot-off-the-grill burgers and brats and hot dogs with friends and family - grinning broadly and dripping ketchup all the while.

We hit a few new tourist locations in our old haunts, and revisted a few of our old favorites too. We've been everywhere from the famous to the obscure, and loved every minute of it.

We hugged people who, very likely, won't be around to hug next year when we come back to visit.

Last night we furiously kicked at waves full of biolumenescent plankton on a dark beach under the brilliant stars, watching tiny blue explosions light up in the water around our feet.

Like I said - we are so incredibly blessed.

But, it's not really the places, or even these experiences, that make it so. It's the people.

I marvel at the fact that God has granted us so many precious friendships. It has been really, really hard to go from place, to place, to place, to place, having to say goodbye. But, that's only because we love the people in each of those places so much. How did we end up so blessed to have so many precious people in so many places? (And all of them on the way to Guatemala, too!)

God is really good.

We'll spend a few more days here, enveloped in embrace of these loved ones - as we've been doing for the past 12 days. After that, we're headed off as just our family of five to do our own embracing - of the unknown. Of the new things God has put before us. And, of the precious people He loves and knows are in need of being shown that love.

Soon we will have the privilege of taking all the love and friendship that we've been practically marinating in on this trip, and lavish it on other people in the name of Jesus.

We are so incredibly blessed.

...I will bless you...so that you will be a blessing...    

                                                                     -Gen 12:2

Casualties

It was a hard thing, trying to decide what to take, and what to leave behind. I mean - imagine if everything you owned was trying out in order to 'make the cut'. Some things just couldn't come along, despite their best efforts. Some things (like my favorite jeans!!!) accidentally got lost in the shuffle. (Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!)

But, by and large, it was surprising to me how easy it was to get rid of most of our things. And, the things that were not easy to get rid of were also surprising. I polled the family, and here are the interesting items that were hardest to give up for each one:

Mark - Mark didn't want to give up his motorcycle, which is kind of strange, since he'd only had it for about four months. He didn't even necessarily want a bike, but knew it would be a really viable, cheap transportation option in Guatemala, and decided to get one to learn and practice on here. Initially, the whole endeavor was really scary, which made the bike (and all that it represented that he'd overcome) all the more special to him.  He was really sad when he had to give it up.

Andrea - The lost jeans. (Ladies - you know what it means to lose your *favorite* jeans.) But, also, it was really hard for me to leave behind my kitchen stuff. Like, my cast iron skillet. My favorite mixing bowl. My stock pot. These were like the tools of my trade. The weapons in my daily battle to feed my family. The stuff I've used almost every day of my adult, married life, and I'll never see them again. That was kind of tough.

Rachel - Rachel had a pair of worn out, glittery gold shoes that she wore in my sister's wedding, and practically every day since. They weren't in good enough shape to take along, but she also wasn't really ready to let them go. It was a hard, hard thing to drop them into the garbage. Also, the wire desk organizer that she stored her stuff in on her bedside table, and the mosquito (or princess) netting that was around her bed for the past two years caused a few moments of heartache.

Rebecca - Rebecca loves stuffed animals. During our previous moves and times of turmoil, her stuffed animals were an anchor for her - a source of security. While we were preparing for this move, she was extremely brave in parting with ('rehoming' as she called it) her beloved stuffed buddies. She says they were the hardest things to leave behind, though it was easier than she thought it would be since she's super excited about where we're going and what we'll be doing next.

Sarah - Sarah had a really hard time giving her cat up. She really wishes he could have come along with us. (Let's be honest, though - no one, cat especially, would have been happy about that decision in the long run. Fifty-eight hours is a looooooong time in a car.) She was very sad when he left, but says it made it so much easier knowing he was going to a great home of people she knew and loved.

So many things left behind... Even so - even with all of these things that were really hard to let go of - I agree 100% with the C. S. Lewis quote above: "There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind."

Strategizing

I always used to joke that our family is a force of nature. Kind of feels more true than ever these days. Every place we leave on our 'goodbye tour' to Guatemala is left in despair and ruin. Oh, yes - there is much crying, and gnashing of teeth.

(Ok - that might be a bit of an exaggeration.) Still... goodbyes are hard.

It's strange - 200 years ago families set off into the unknown, across endless oceans or prairies, likely to never see or hear from their loved ones again, and I'm not sure that they blubbered and bawled half as much I have in the past few days. And they didn't even have Facebook!

I've been working on my exit strategy (since we're going to be doing this several more times.) It goes something like this:

• Grin broadly and confidently as I announce, "Ok, everyone - it's probably time to go now." 
• Bite my lip and compel my tear ducts to contract using the sheer force of my will. (Duct tape or superglue might be required in future.) 
• Use ninja-like mind power to slow time, in order to soak up every nuance and impression of the goodbye hugs.
• Get into the car, grinning and waving wildly as I watch my loved ones get smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror.
• Break down and sob uncontrollably until I can regain my composure, and/or I run out of tissues. (Hopefully this happens before we arrive to the next location.) 
• Repeat.

It's like ripping off a band-aid over, and over, and over, and over again, only in this case it hurts the ripper and the rippee (so to speak).

<sigh> I don't know if my strategy is a good one or not. I can only pray that those we leave behind know that our stoicism is hard-fought, and not a result of indifference. (Oh, Lord - please let them know!)

And, though I'm not looking forward to any more goodbyes, I am looking forward to the work that the Lord has called us to. So, until someone invents a way to go into somewhere new without having to leave where they are, I guess I'll have to stay the course and stick to my strategy. (Now, where can I get some duct tape?)

Brain Dump

I don't really have time to write a whole bunch of blog posts about all the different stuff that's going on right now - in our lives, in our minds, and in our hearts. But, I do want to be able to share (somehow) what it's really like in the last few days before you head off for the mission field. I guess since life is so chaotic and rushed, it's only appropriate for this post to be so, as well.

Here goes:

• Our middle daughter sprained her ankle the night before last. (Jumped off the porch railing. Had an umbrella, but Mary Poppins is a liar, hence the sprain.) I'm super relieved it's not broken, but it sort of highlights the way we've had to do things lately - carefully. Trying not to break stuff at the house. Stuff on the Jeep. Stuff on our bodies. Just the need to be more thoughtful about that kind of thing is strange. Probably healthy and good for us, but strange nonetheless.
• Went to a visitation yesterday. Wasn't able to go to the funeral today because we close on our house this afternoon (yay!!) and reallyhonestlyandtruly have to have our *final* storage boxes loaded up and ready to go by 3:00 today (yikes!!). I wanted to take time to express my sorrow to myself. To my husband. To the family. WITH the family. But, there isn't time - for any of that -  and that really stinks. Like, beyond-the-stinkiest-of-stinks, stinks. We are still a part of things here, but only by the loosest of threads. Yet, we're not really sewn into the fabric of where we're going, either. Kinda feeling like we're floating a bit.
• Goodbyes are really hard. I want each and every person in our lives to feel honored and special and cared about - because they are! But, I'm ending up having to text goodbyes, or email goodbyes, or skip goodbyes altogether with people. I hope they know... I also am starting to consider the reality of our drive down. Which, essentially, is a three-week-long, non-stop goodbye fest. We just get to do this over, and over, and over, and over again. I am kinda weary just thinking of it. I pray that God will help us be a bit numb, so it doesn't hurt so much. Then again - I don't want our loved ones to think we're just going through the motions or don't care - because we do! Again - I hope they know...
• I'm tired of touching all of our stuff. We don't even have that much stuff any more, but I'm having to touch it all, all of the time. Move this here. Take that over there. Put this in that bag. Pull that out of this box. I'm kind of ready to toss it all and start entirely over when we get there. Let's be honest - I don't really know what I'm going to need. Or want to have when we get back. Or wish I'd pitched when I had the chance. More and more (especially since I'm having to touch it all so much!) I'm just really realizing that stuff is just stuff, and it's not important at all in the grand scheme of things. That being said, I know I'm still going to have to touch it allllllllllllll again before it's said and done. <sigh>
• It is impossible (for various reasons) to have an entire family's laundry ALL clean at once. That is irritating.

All that, and we're living on the last of the lasts in the cupboard! Even my kids are tired of chips, frozen dinners, and cereal. I can't say that I'm exactly looking forward to 3 weeks of fast food. (Let's face it - that's what's probably going to happen much of the time on our trip. <sigh again>) BUT, at least it won't chips, frozen dinners, or cereal. So, I guess there's always a bright side. :)

Despite the challenges we're facing (and the fact that this blog post sounds a wee bit whiny - sorry) we really are feeling truly blessed! Life isn't easy in transition, but there is nowhere else we'd rather be. Of course, the biggest part of what makes it all so hard is that we're leaving behind so many, many, many wonderful relationships. And, I'd MUCH rather have those waiting for me when we get back, than never have had them at all. 
 

Five

I think I've covered the fact that we don't have a whole lot of room in our Jeep for the drive to Guatemala. Essentially (aside from a few odds and ends), each person is allowed to take one backpack (stored under their feet), one space bag (stored in the cartop carrier), and one duffel bag (stored in the cargo area of the Jeep). 

None of these bags are very big.  

Our duffel bags, for example, will only hold five outfits each.  Five outfits!

That means we'll be living with the same five outfits for around four weeks.

Wear. Wash. Repeat... for a month.

(Don't expect to see a whole lot of variety in our trip pictures. Just sayin'.)

It's hard to decide whether I should take my favorite outfits (and risk absolutely hating them by the time we arrive), or take my least favorite outfits (and risk absolutely hating them the whole time we're on the road.)  

Decisions, decisions, decisions...

Probably, it will come down to whatever's the last thing out of the dryer before we take off. Maybe not the best way to make the choices, but it works. 

What about you - what five outfits would YOU take to wear for the next month?