Purchased, Not Sold

I've spent a lot of time pondering and written many a blog post in the past about how I kept waiting to feel like a "real" grownup. A "real" teacher. A "real" professional. A "real" mature Christian. Now, I sometimes find myself waiting to feel like a "real" missionary. Hmmm... amazing how that works.

Here's the problem with that - there's no such thing as An Idiot's Guide to Becoming a Missionary or  How to Be a Missionary for Dummies. Trust me - we looked! Though there are several books that have been written about becoming a missionary, there is no one, single, definitive guide except for the Bible. (Then again, what more could you need than that!?) What's conflicting, though, is that many of the human resources that have been written don't necessarily line up with the original mandates and instructions given in Matthew 28:19, Mark 16:15, Luke 9:30, Acts 13, etc.

To be honest, much of what we read about becoming missionaries (aside from the Bible) before we moved down here had to do with fundraising. With quantifying what your work is worth. With selling yourself and what you do. <sigh> Seriously, people!? This is what's available out there? This is what people are going to come across in their search for answers? This is the advice you have to give people going into the mission field? If that view of mission work is true, and success is only about what's the most exciting or interesting in people's minds, then we will never, ever measure up.We will never be "real" missionaries.

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of another friend, who was gifted by God through a series of dreams, with an invention that makes dirty water safe to drink, works in even the most remote location, and lasts longer and costs only a fraction of what most water purification systems cost? How can we say that what we're doing is as important or more important than what he does, when he has literally saved hundreds of eternities and lives (mostly the lives of children and babies) who didn't have to face the threat of water-borne illness because of his faithful dedication?

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of our friend, a single woman living in the middle east? One of only a handful of Americans still in her war-torn, dangerous nation? A woman who bought back three children whose mother had sold them for their organs (yes - you just read that correctly), and now struggles to keep them fed? Struggles to keep them educated? Struggles to keep them safe? Struggles to stay safe herself because she refuses to leave the country (no matter the danger) if it means leaving them behind?

If they're right, how can we possibly say to anyone that our work here is as important as the work of yet another friend who lives in Northern Iraq with his wife and six children, and helps refugees who have lost everything (often, including loved ones) in the ever-advancing onslaught of radical Islam? Whose very life is in danger each day because of his insistence on sharing more than just food or supplies, but in sharing the gospel of Jesus along with them? Who helps support, equip, train, and pray with military forces who have bravely volunteered to try to stop the advance of ISIS and take back cities which had been strongholds of Christianity for almost 2,000 years and have now been emptied of every living soul?

According to the books (well-intentioned though they were), our family must now consider itself somehow in competition with these other missionaries - our brothers and sisters in Christ - so that we can win the precious and limited prize of financial support that (let's face it...) we all need in order to complete our ministry. The message is that we have to sell ourselves well if we want to do our work well.

Here's the problem with that: 

We were already purchased by Jesus Christ, so we don't need to sell ourselves any more to anyone, and neither do our friends (Gal. 3:13).

It's not our job to convince people that they should believe in what we're doing and support our work. That's God's job. He's the one who sent us (Rom. 10:14-15). He's the one who owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Ps. 50:10). The whole Earth is His, and all that it contains (1 Cor. 10:26). When He (through his son Jesus) told the first missionaries to not even worry about taking an extra bag, or shirt, or pair of shoes because the worker is worth his keep (Mt. 10:10), I believe He meant it for now, just as much as He meant it then.

I guess since the Bible is always right (hallelujah!), and all those books are wrong, it's really not our job to convince other people that we're "real" missionaries. That means I don't have to try to convince myself of it anymore, either. Hmmm... amazing how that works. :)

I sincerely appreciate the intentions of the people who wrote those books about how to enter the mission field. But, dear friend, take some advice from a REAL missionary (yes, that's me!) - you will never have to compete with anyone for what the Lord wants to give you for His work (resources, love, approval, etc.), because in Him there is ALWAYS more than enough (2 Cor. 9:8).

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!?) :)

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?

The Question of Stuff

It's funny what questions people have about our move.

Most ask the same types of things I think I would if I were in their shoes:

"Wait... where is Guatemala?"

"You're driving there!?

"How long will you be gone?"

But, there are also some questions we've gotten (from a surprisingly high percentage of people) that kind of make us wonder. And giggle. Just a little.

For example, I can't tell you how many times people have looked at us and said, "Are you taking your kids?"

Mind you, this is after they know we're planning more than just a brief trip - we're going to be moving there! And, while I understand that their kinda-goofy external expression is merely an indication of some serious internal reflection and processing, it's still hard for me not to quip back, "No, we thought we'd just put them into storage until we returned..."

The question of storage (for stuff - not kids) does come up a lot, though, and I think it's a great question. People are curious (just like I would be) about what we're taking with us, and what we're putting into storage here.

Many of our decisions about our 'stuff' have been based, out of necesity, on the space we have avaialable. But, I guess that's true for everyone. If you have a mansion, you have a mansion's worth of stuff. If you have a tin shack (like many in Xela do), you have a tin shack's worth of stuff. We have a Jeep Liberty (which is not very big), so very soon we will have only a Jeep Liberty's worth of stuff.

Plus a little in storage.

I'm sure there will be more blogs to come in the future about exactly what we're taking with us. For now, I thought I might share about what we're putting into storage, and why.

We decided early on not to put furniture or other big stuff into storage, because we don't really own anything of tremendous value (monetary, historical, sentimental, or otherwise) when it comes to furniture. We've usually purchased things second-hand, which was easy to do once, and will be easy to do again.

Ditto kitchen items. Ditto bedding. Ditto, well, almost everything else.

So, this is it. This is what 5 people's worth of stored stuff looks like for us:

We kept old home movies and family photos. (There were a LOT of those!) We kept our two old computer towers for practical purposes, in case we end up needing something off of them that we somehow didn't get transfered to our new external hard drive. We kept yearbooks, newspaper clippings, baby books, and a few other things to prove to our kids that they did have a life before we moved. We kept a couple of sentimental items each, that had come from family or friends and evoked warm memories. The girls each kept a small tub or two of their favorite toys, and we kept many of our family's favorite books.

I can already tell that the next time we come back for a visit we will ask ourselves why on earth we kept so much. Moving to Xela, I guess you could say, is a little like practicing up for moving to Heaven. Now, we can't take much with us, which helps us recognize that 'stuff' just isn't all that important. After all, we're not going to get to taking anything with us when our time on earth is done. And, since our citizenship is really in heaven, and not on earth (Phil. 3:20), I'm pretty happy that we're learning to pack accordingly..

What about you - what would YOU put into storage if you were in our shoes???

Details, Details, Details...

Various famous thinkers and writers have been credited for coining the phrase, "Only two things are inevitable - death and taxes."

While the expression itself is true enough (even if we don't know who said it first), I think it's important to point out that at least the redemptive work of Jesus overcame the sting of death for all believers.

Taxes - not so much. :)

I'm thinking we're going to have to rely on His plan for tax payment, and start looking for coins in the mouths of fish next April.

It's not that I am not willing to pay, or even that we won't be able to do so. I just don't have a clue what to expect that we'll owe when April 15th rolls around next year. Even after enlisting help from the best-trained professionals, it's still  really quite a mystery.

Ditto about how to handle vehicle registration.

Driver's License Renewal.

Health Insurance.

Car Insurance.

Etc, etc, etc.

We are finding a whole lot of 'detail' things that are kind of up in the air, even though we're only 10 days from leaving.  The problem, of course, is that what we're doing is just a wee, tiny bit outside of the  norm, and people don't always know how to answer the questions we're finding ourselves asking. As a result, we end up getting mixed messages depending on which question we ask, to whom, on which day.

To be honest, though - I'm ok with that. We will keep doing due dilligence on our end, and sift through all the answers we get as best we can in order to make our decisions. The rest is up to God. And, I can't think of any better place to put my trust than Him!

Waiting Games

I have a new game I've started playing in this funny, interim time frame while we're waiting to leave. I call it, "Will It Last?" It goes like this...

I like to have a glass of iced green tea most days. This is what the box has left. Will it last!?

This is the toilet paper left in the downstairs bathroom. Will it last?

This is how much coffee I have left in the cannister. Will it last?

It's a fun game, and I'm finding more and more opportunities to play it with each passing day. :)

Trial Run

We did a trial run on packing the Jeep up today. It was good - better than I expected, even. Between the cargo area in the back and our car-top carrier, we have plenty of room for each of us to take a duffel bag and a Space Bag (medium for the girls, large for Mark and for me).

Funny how in this process that has come to sound like a perfectly ample amount of packing space to move to a foreign nation. Just goes to prove God really can change hearts and minds.

Besides those things, we also made sure there was room for 2 boxes of Spanish New Testaments, a cooler, a few (very few) household items, and our electronics.

To be honest, the latter takes up a pretty significant precentage of the available space, considering that we have a TV, XBox, and all all of our CDs and DVDs. Deep down, I think we all feel a little conflicted about this. (First-world guilt, you might call it.)

But, after talking with several people who've done mission work, we found out that it's pretty important to have something familiar, something in English, and something a little mindless we can all do together during the transition period when we first get there.  We really debated about whether or not to take these things, but I think we made the right decision.

Plus, now that we know for sure that it's all going to fit, we only have to deal with the occasional twinge of first-world guilt, instead of weeks and weeks of transition trauma. So, yay Jeep and car top carrrier! Thanks for helping us out with that. :)

Taking Stock

So, here's something I hadn't thought about before - the freezer in our basement. You know, it's just been down there quietly humming away since we moved it in two years ago, keeping all of our 'extra' stuff nice and cold for us. 

The problem is, we don't need any 'extra' stuff anymore. In fact, soon we're not going to need any stuff at all. At least, not any food.

That's a strange feeling. 

Usually when you move you just unload the cupboards, fridge and freezer into boxes, take them to the new place, and put them away there. (Ditto laundray stuff, cleaners, the things in your medicine cabinet, etc.. But, I digress.) 

Just to be sure that I wasn't going to be wasting food and/or wasting money, I decided to take an inventory of what we have left for food in the house, and do menus to ensure that we use it all up.

Turns out, I've got all of my suppers planned from now until the day we leave. (I guess I had more food on hand than I realized!) 

Don't get me wrong - we'll still have to do some shopping for side dishes, snacks, and perishables. But, we're bound to save a lot of money on groceries (especially since I won't be stocking up on the things on sale, like I usually do). And - we're going to eat like kings! That turkey I was saving for a special occasion? It's supper next Tuesday night. The giant pork roast I figured I'd use for a family dinner? It'll taste great the Monday after next, and the leftovers will be the perfect pairing for that bag of dried black beans I found in the back of the cupboard. 

Oh, and did I mention that I had lots of steaks left that I intended to last us a whole grilling season? Yummm!

The only things I wasn't able to figure out how to use up were a whole bottle of Karo syrup (?), the dill and mustard seed I'd bought to make pickles this summer, and a couple of boxes of hot cocoa mix. Wonder how they'd all taste together as a barbeque sauce to go on all that delicious meat. Hmm.... 

Six Weeks

Exactly six weeks from today we will close the door on this house for the last time, and venture off into the unknown.

(Ok technically we'll venture off in a Jeep Liberty on a three-week journey to familiar places visiting family and friends. But, THEN we'll be in the unknown.)

Some days it feels like six weeks is forever, and it's hard not to wish the time away since we're so excited to get to Guatemala. Some days, though, six weeks feels like no time at all, and I can hardly stand how quickly it's all happening. 

This in-between time is strange. And, honestly, a little hard. 

I mean - I know I need to clean out my kitchen cupboards and get rid of, well, everything. But, when should I do that? Ditto the bathroom vanity. And the blanket chest in the living room. And, and, and...

We've done a ton of sorting in the past six months, and really have narrowed things down significantly. Our motto during that time was, "If I won't use it between now and when we leave, and/or I'm not taking taking it with me, I'm getting rid of it."

The trouble is, I don't really have a sense of what we'll use in the next six weeks. (Or even exactly what we'll have room to take with us.) Yes, technically we can go without most of the things now. But, do we want to feel like we're camping in our own home for the next 42 days when we don't have to?

Of course, I also don't want to wait until the last  minute and be scrambling to re-home a whole bunch of stuff on the last day that we're here, when we're packing up and dealing with the dozens of last-minute things that are sure to pop up.

<sigh> It's a bit of a circular problem, I guess, but I know God will continue to guide us day by day and help us make these decisions wisely. 

So, here's to six weeks left - a strange milestone, but a good one nonetheless.

Thinking Some More...

Mark has been doing a lot of thinking lately about what he'll miss when we leave for Guatemala. I guess it's gotten me thinking, too. It really is a challenge to predict what you might miss once you don't have it anymore. But, here are my best guesses at the top 15 things that will be hardest for me to be without:

1.) Family and friends (obviously) -I have been blessed beyond what anyone deserves when it comes to friends and family. It will be really, really, really, really hard to not be able to pick up the phone or hop in the car whenever I want to connect with my favorite people.

2.) Home schooling - I am thrilled that I'm going to get to work at a Christian school, and that my children will be able to attend there, as well. But, home schooling has a been a part of my identity personally, professionally, politically, socially, and academically for more than a dozen years now. In many ways, it has shaped who I am, who my children are, and how we are known by others. It will be VERY strange to not be involved with home schooling for this season of our lives.

3.) Sleeping in - I cringe to admit that I almost put this as number 2 (or 1), but it is kind of a big deal to me. I like sleep. A lot. I've never been a good early riser, and I'm going to have to be up, dressed, fed, and AT WORK by 7:30. In the morning!!! I know God will help me with this, but it is going to be a big adjustment. Prayers are appreciated.

4.) Our church - It kind of makes me cry a little on the inside everytime I think about having to leave our church. It's really wonderful. We've grown and learned so much there, and have been so welcomed and embraced by its members. Our children, especially, have loved their precious time here. I know we will find a new church, but I have a feeling that FFCC will always be home.

5.) A flexible schedule - I've never worked a full-time job. Ever. I mean, I've ended up working part time jobs that were really more than 40 hours a week, but I've always been able to set my own hours and be flexible, which I've loved. It's allowed me to help out, volunteer, tackle projects, etc... I am really going to miss that.

6.) HyVee - For real. I love my local grocery store. They're the best chain foodstore in the world, in my opinion. I love their reliability, their quality, their friendliness, and their prices. (Oh, and the coupons!) As a frugal home maker with a family who loves to eat, they're kind of like a second home to me. Rarely a week goes by that I don't visit at least once. I know I'll come to love the market place, but I will seriously miss my HyVee.

7.) Solitude - What can I say? I like to be alone. I don't think I'll have a lot of alone time in Xela. For one thing, we will be so much busier, and there are so many more people in the town. But, I also won't be able to send my kids to the park alone, or leave them at home to go do a bit of shopping or take a walk.

8.) Things being easy - I am anticipating that stuff (mostly everything) will be harder in Guatemala. You know, like having to wash fruits and veggies in bleach water and then rinse them in bottled water before you eat them. Or not being able to just run down to the local store and know for sure that you'll be able to find what you're looking for. Or driving with the expectation that people around you are going to follow the laws and stay in their own lanes and off your bumper. Stuff like that.

9.) Government that works (mostly) - I can certainly understand why people are up in arms about our governments (local all the way up to federal) being bloated, top-heavy, out of touch, ineffective, wasteful, unconstitutional, etc... But, they're still waaaaaaaaaaaaay better than what they've got in Guatemala. I'm not looking forward to having police officers looking for bribes, and having to negotiate my way around a very corrupt system.

10.) Fall and Spring - I do love the changing of the seasons. At least, these seasons. I'm still pretty sure I'm not going to miss winter. At all. Ever.

11.) Being an expert at the local language - I take a lot of pride (more than I should, I know) in being able to use the English language correctly. It is really, really going to be hard to butcher the local language, and to have to be on the receiving end of correction about grammar, pronunciation, etc... <sigh>

12.) Wide, open spaces - I love the mountains, but I think I will end up longing for the flat, expansive cornfields of Iowa, where the only thing bigger than the vista ahead of you is the blue sky above.

13.) The familiar - You know, like intersections that remind me that I'm close to home. My favorite blanket when we're watching TV. My 'go-to' knife and cutting board in the kitchen. All those thousands of little things that make daily life so comfortable, even if you don't think about them... I know we'll eventually become familiar with our new surroundings, but the transition will be challenging.

14.) Pulling our own weight financially - Words can't express how grateful we are for our financial supporters. And, I know it's absolutely Biblical and appropriate to be supported by others while sharing the gospel, and that our supporters will be immeasurably blessed becuase of their giving. Still, it's a hard thing to accept sometimes.

15.) The life we might have had - I don't think I'll ever regret doing mission work, but the fact that we have opted out of so much - including the 'normal' American life - will forever alter our future. I don't grieve over who we'll never end up being, or what we'll never end up doing or achieving because we're moving to Guatemala. But, I do have to take a moment to acknowledge that our future is going to be different because of this choice.  It's at least worth pondering...

This Stinks

I know we've done a lot of sunshine-and-roses-type posts, where we've shared some challenges, but ended with an overwhelming dose of optimism and faith.

That stuff is true. And, it's totally how we feel.

But, sometimes things are also downright hard, and it's a real struggle to find the sunshine or optimism for a little bit.

Tonight is the first night in over 14 years that I've slept in my own house, but my cat wasn't there with me.

I'm not gonna lie - it's really hard.

We got him as an eight-week-old kitten when we'd been married less than four months. He's been through the addition of five pets to our family, four moves, three kids, two life-threatening accidents, and a whole lot more.

He was family, you know?

Now I find myself shedding some tears about the situation, and he's not here to comfort me (like he's always been there before). I'm struggling to not second guess whether we made the right choice about where he should go, and who he should go with, and when he should go.

BUT...

We prayed about it, and really felt a strong witness and confirmation that we made the right choice.  Still, sometimes even right choices can be awfully hard to make and follow through with.

I am holding on to the promise that God sees and cares for even the sparrows of the field, so I know He's watching out for my buddy Charles, too.

FSBO : Everything

Before we decided for sure that we were really going to commit to this crazy notion of leaving everything behind to become missionaries in some far-flung, Central American country (who does that!!??) we did a lot of research on the internet.


Ok, I did a lot of research.
(Which, in reality, meant that I spent a lot of late nights trolling on all of the missionary blogs I could find.)

The ones I discovered mostly fell into two categories:

1.) Well-established missionaries who joyfully retold the breakthroughs, high points, and victories they were having in sharing the gospel with the people of  ___<insert name of distant land>____. (Oh yeah, they sometimes mentioned that it was kind of hard once in a while, too.) 

2.) Intrepid new missionaries who did a handful of posts about their assignment, and then seemingly disappeared from the internet. Possibly the face of the planet. (It really started to make me wonder how frequently people get martyred these days.)

What I didn't see were very many (any) blogs about the preparation process. I wanted to be able to see that some other family had felt the call, and struggled with the same things we were struggling with. That's what we're trying to do here - show the ins and outs, the goods and bads, the high points and the low points of preparing for mission work.

Like, for example, having to get rid of stuff.

             Like, a lot of stuff. 

As in, basically all of our stuff.

I have mixed feelings about this. I've really struggled in the past with my relationship with my "stuff." I'm not one to sentimentalize items anymore, so it's not all that hard for me to get rid of things. (FYI - that's not true for everyone in our family, which causes some challenges.) What I am finding difficult is knowing when to get rid of what, and which things I should save.

Are we walking in faith (that we're really going to get all of our funding and be able to move in July) when we get rid of everything we don't actually, 100%  NEED between now and then? Or, are we being foolish?

Should I take my crockpot with me, or hope I can find a good deal on one once we get down there? Ditto the TV. Ditto, well, a whoooooooole bunch of other things.

Is it better to re-home our cats early (so we'll have an easier time selling our home and have that big adjustment out of the way before we face all the other 'goodbyes' ahead)? Or, should we hold on to them until the last minute, so that we don't have to miss out on a single extra minute of time with our beloved pets?

When should we put our house on the market so that we'll have enough time to get it sold, but so we won't end up living out of boxes in some hotel for the last ___ weeks we're in the U.S? 

How much stuff should we put into storage? We're committing to a minimum of 2 years in Guatemala. What if we come back, absolutely destitute, after those 2 years and regret not having kept more? What if we end up saving too much - crowding our friends' basements with junk we will someday wonder why we ever kept in the first place?

And so many more questions...

(This is where I usually try to tie things up with some profound statement that is both poignant and encouraging. Sorry folks, I got nothin' this time, except to say that we're doing the best we can to struggle with these issues, like I'm sure that everyone else in our position does. But, I don't know for sure, since no one seems to blog about this part of the journey. <sigh> All I can say is that I'm grateful that God's grace is sufficient.)

We'd love to hear your ideas and suggestions, though! What advice would you have for us? 

(Like what you've read? Want to learn more? Check out our website, or go here to make a tax-deductible contribution to our ministry. (Select 'Farrier' from the pulldown menu.)

Things Just Got Real...

These are the moments when things feel really, really real.

That's right - we are a family of five, and we now have five passports!

(Granted - our passport photos bear enough of a resemblance to mugshots that we are unlikely to actually show them off unless it is absolutely necessary, but still...)

Guatemala, here we come - and we'll even be legal when we get there!

Visitors From Guatemala!!

This has been a really good month for the Farriers of Faith (that's us).

Some days it's hard to feel connected to this place, since we're so excited to get to Guatemala and do all the great things that God has planned for us.

More often, though, it's hard to feel connected to Guatemala, since it's so far away, and there is so much 'unknown' there.

One of the things that has really encouraged us and helped us feel plugged in with both places at the same time (a challenging feat, let me assure you!) is that we got to visit with three of the people with whom Mark will be working closely once we get there.

A few weeks ago, we got to have French Silk Pie (a blessing straight from heaven) with Dick and Sharon Mueller (ditto) at our house. These guys are incredible! They've been in Guatemala 30 years now, and started a Bible college that recently graduated almost 100 students from its degree program. They are as rock-solid as can be when it comes to walking by faith, and we are incredibly blessed to be able to intern with them. (Better than winning a big lottery any day. Seriously - we're that excited.)

Sharon and Dick Mueller with our Pastor, Michael Kalstrup

 Just yesterday, we had David Mann over for chili, homemade bread, cobbler, and some excellent conversation. (Doctrine, church history, parenting, American politics... all the good stuff.) He also works with Dick at the college, and we spent the most time with him when we were in Guatemala in February. It was so much fun to be around him for those 5 days, and we were relieved to find out that his easy-going manner and sense of humor weren't just part of his 'tour guide' persona. As far as we can tell, he's really, truly that cool all the time!  (I bet his wife and kids would even say the same thing.)

David Mann bringing the message at our church

Between those two visits, we feel like a lot of our practical questions have been answered (yes, you can flush the toilet paper [sometimes]), our fears allayed (we won't just disappear, never to be heard from again, once we drive into Mexico), and our excitement level has been boosted even higher (I honestly burst into spontaneous, exuberant song sometimes).

So, besides just raising the roof in singing the praises of our amazing God, we're also still looking to raise some support. (See what I did there?)

Seriously, though - God has put it on my hear to be bold and seek out 10 people/groups to commit to supporting us at $50 (or more) each month, beginning in January. 

We know our partners are out there. Are you one of them? Something to pray about...

If you want to know more, check out our website. If you'd like to donate, it's easy and safe to do online, or by mail. (Plus, it's tax deductible!) Just head over to our servicing agency's website for instructions.

If you have questions, fundraising ideas, would like to know more about how to host a missionary reception, want us to come speak to your group/church, or anything else, you can always email us at farriersoffaith@yahoo.com.

We truly would love to hear from you! Thanks for joining us on our journey thus far. We can't wait to see where we'll all end up together tomorrow!

akf

A Missionary Whozawhatsa?

Raise your hand if you've ever hosted a Tupperware / Mary Kay / 31 Bags -style party before.

              Or if you've ever been to one.

                          Or if you've ever heard of one.

(Since I can't actually see whether or not you raised your hand, I'm going to assume that you did.) 

Congratulations! You are fully equipped to host a Missionary Reception!

A Missionary Reception is an awesome support-raising idea for the missionaries in your life. (hint hint) We do our best to be bold and send letters to all of our friends, family, neighbors, co-workers, people we meet at the grocery store, and everyone else we can think of. The problem is, we can't think of everyone. But, you can! (At least, you can connect us with some new people, which is close enough.)

Think of it this way - a Missionary Reception is like a Tupperware party, only instead of giving your friends a chance to buy plasticware that will save their sandwiches, you're giving them a chance to support a missionary who will help save souls for Jesus. Kind of cool, huh?

The best part is that it's super easy to do.

1.) Come up with a list of people who you think are interested in mission work. Or who want to make more of a difference in the world. Or who are looking for a place to donate money in order to get a tax deduction. Or who you know will show up to your house if you promise them snacks. Any of these criteria are fine.

2.) Invite those people to your house on a night when your favorite missionaries are also going to come over.

3.) Serve snacks. (Nothing fancy required. Pretzels and soda will do nicely. Or, for a south-of-the-border theme, serve chips and salsa. Whatever suits your fancy.)

4.) Let your favorite missionaries give a 20 to 30 minute presentation to your friends. Allow mingling to happen afterwards. (It's amazing how many friendships can be made over pretzels.)

5.) (This is the really important part!) Let God do the rest.

Seriously. It's that easy. Missionaries aren't trying to talk anyone into giving money. They're just trying to connect with the people that God has already planned to support their work. For all you know, that could be your next door neighbor, the lady in the office down the hall, or your best friend. You'll never know unless you host a Mission Reception. Neither will your favorite missionaries. Neither will your neighbor/co-worker/friend.

See why these things are such a win-win-win-win situation?

Yes, that's four wins. You win. Your favorite missionaries win. The people who support the missionaries win. And, best of all, Jesus wins. I don't know how it could get much better than that!

So - how 'bout it? Are you interested in hosting a Missionary Reception for the Farriers? Let us know! Shoot an email to farriersoffaith@yahoo.com and we can chat about details or answer any questions you might have.

Like what you've read? Want to learn more? Check out our website, or go here to make a tax-deductible contribution to our ministry. (Select 'Farrier' from the pulldown menu.)

Double Lives

Photo Credit:
 http://knicknacker.com/
alter-ego-superhero-posters
-danny-haas/

Sometimes it feels like we're living double lives right now.

By day, we're the happy, successful, all-American family next door - going to work, doing our schooling, and keeping up on our favorite shows on TV. By night, we're missionaries trying hard to raise enough funds to get our boots on the ground in a poverty-stricken, dirty, second-world country.

It can be a challenge. Especially since we don't have the option of being only one or the other at a time.

The emotional realities of these two lives are very different. Here, we are allowed (even encouraged) by society to take advantage of the luxuries that are available to us as a reward for our hard work. Even with a very modest lifestyle and budget, we have access to all the food, clothing, entertainment, and comforts that anyone could ever wish for. But, we're also missionaries, preparing to live with less, and on less. We have seen the other side of the coin, and will soon have to stop catering to our mere 'wants' and be grateful to simply be able to meet our true 'needs.' We often find ourselves wondering, 'should we be starting that now?'

I also have a hard time not letting the emotions I feel from one life spill into the way I think about the other.

When I've had a frustrating or discouraging day as American homeschooling wife and mom, it's hard not to also feel frustrated or discouraged about our progress and preparation for our mission work.

Literally, I've had times when I've been bummed about burning dinner, and let that make me doubt (just for a second) the calling to missions God put on our lives.

It's silly, I know, but that's how the fiery darts of the enemy work. And, while our situation is different from most, I bet you can relate. We're all, in one way or another, leading double lives.

Father and breadwinner.
Wife and daughter.
In the world, but not of it.

That's why I'm so glad I have Jesus. He knows what I'm going through. He was both beloved, and despised. He was needed, but rejected. He was God, but He was man.

He gets it.

He knows my struggles and challenges. He rejoices with me and because of me. He will never leave me, nor forsake me... neither the happy, successful, all-American me, nor the missionary me raising funds and preparing to move to Guatemala.

And if that's not enough to make a person double happy, then nothing is.

Like what you've read? Want to learn more? Check out our website, or go here to contribute to our ministry. (Select 'Farrier' from the pulldown menu.)