One Big Year!

The distance between age 20 and age 21 is bigger than the distance between most years.

Hang in there with me for a moment ... I'm not losing my mind. (Well, I might be but this still makes sense!)

A year ago we had no more teenagers in the family. I blogged about it. It seemed like a big event. But somehow age 21 seems sooooooooo much older than age 20. Joey is 21 years of age today!!! Maybe it's because he's now into his twenties a ways, or maybe it's because he's wrapping up his internship at his college, or maybe it's because we saw him in July, ... whatever the reason -- he seems much more mature than just one year older than 20!!!!

So, Happy Birthday Old Joey!!! :-) We love you!

Celebrating Jeri's Birthday Across the Miles

Jim and I are feeling so blessed to have a daughter like Jeri and today we celebrated her birthday! Well, the celebration was basically Jim and me singing a family version of a Red Robin restaurant "Happy Birthday!" Usually, to be done properly, everyone should be in a long line and the leader guides the gang through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, while everyone sings and claps:

Happy birthday, have a happy birthday
Happy birthday, have a happy day
Is there a birthday here?
Yes, there is a birthday here!
Happy
Birthday
Ha ha ha ppy!
etc.
(The photo is the only sample I have of another time and place where we sang the song!!!)

So, we sang and Jeri and her dog, Machi, marched and I'm sure the puppy will never be the same again!

We love you, Jerz! We hope you can hear our cheers and feel our bear hugs all the way to Thailand from here!

Guns and Men

We have grown quite accustomed to seeing guns, so much so that I can't count how many I see on a given day. They are everywhere! There are always an assortment of men and their guns outside our office gates. And anytime we want to go to our beach hut, the gun-toting police (MoPol for Mobile Police) must accompany us in a separate vehicle. Trucks filled with uniformed men and their guns regularly "horn" (the term used for what we would call "honk") and force others to let them pass. The roadsides have police strutting around with their guns. Sometimes they use the guns to enforce a roadblock -- sometimes it's actually a legal roadblock but usually they just want some extra money for dinner.

With so many guns about, you'd think I would have blogged about them by now.

So ... here are a couple of anecdotes.

This week, one of our drivers was sitting in his parked Zulu Control (the name for our hired patrol teams with security experts and MoPol) truck awaiting a job. The MoPol in the front passenger's seat decided to clean his gun. He removed the magazine and discovered that a bullet was lodged in the chamber. When he started poking around inside the chamber with his finger, the driver began to feel "uncomfortable" and decided to exit the vehicle. Less than one minute after shutting the door there was a loud bang. Pointing upwards and toward the area where the driver's head had been just moments before, the gun discharged. The bullet tore through the roof, demolished the red and blue lights on the top of the truck, but injured no one. They don't hand out brains when they hand out guns.

The incident led to another fascinating discussion with our own driver on our way home from work. He told us of the time when a cousin was being buried. The cousin had been a policeman so the police attended the burial in full force. When the casket was being lowered into the ground, 7 policemen encircled the hole and did a "gun salute" -- three times they ceremoniously pointed their guns in the air and, following the proper shout from the commander, they shot their guns. At the first shot, 3 guns worked. For the second shot, 4 guns worked. For the final shot, 3 guns worked.

Between inept handlers, poor equipment, and a serious lack of ammunition --- these aren't very good odds if we actually needed protection! But, we're not too concerned. Most of the time when there is a problem the police are the first to drop their guns, shed their uniforms, and run. This is why we make sure that we carry enough cash, our mobile phones, and easy-to-pull-off-but-not-very-valuable jewelry. That way, the bad guys will be satisfied and we will be safe!

Tragedy Strikes Again in This Land

When you hear a news report from this place with "official" numbers on loss of life, it's good to at least multiply the number by 5. For some reason the "officials" think that they look better if less people are thought to have died. But all of the locals know the truth so it just reinforces the untrustworthiness and complete selfishness of their leaders.

A fuel tank truck went up on a curb -- a common occurrence as the traffic jams ("go slows") cause people to drive anywhere they find an opening. The truck rolled and hit another truck. Both ignited into flames. This was shortly after 5 a.m. Workers on the mainland have to take dumpy transport buses at the wee hours of the morning in order to get to work by 8 a.m. In the area there were transport buses holding about 4 times the proper amount of passengers. (They only have to pay for the seat space so if they can arrange to sit on someone's lap they split the fare or if they stand between the person's knees and the back of the next seat, they can stand for a smaller price.) Some of those transport buses burst into flames. Overcrowded buses are impossible to evacuate.

So, the "official" numbers are that 12 died. But it sounds like there were at least 50 unidentifiable bodies at the morgue. Plus more than 12 were identifiable. Hospitals in the area have many more in critical condition.

This comes close to home for us because one of the passengers in one of the transport buses was a driver for our company. Thomas. A nice man. One wife. Five children.

The wife has tried, with the help of a couple of driver friends, to find her husband. But there was nothing recognizable about any of the bodies she viewed. Practically no one goes to a dentist. And those who have money and do go to dentists still wouldn't expect the dentist to actually have any proper records. So mysteries always remain. The children always hope that one day their father will walk through the door. There will be a mass burial.

The contract company that supplies our company all cars and drivers has done nothing to help the widow -- neither to search for the body nor to assist with expenses. The drivers are treated poorly by their company, to say the least. The widow's youngest child is 5 years old. Women and children have very little value here. Probably, she will move in with a brother or an uncle and try to earn her way. It's a rare man who would marry a woman with 5 children.

So, I'm organizing collections from the employees. Responses have been great. (Well, actually some of the locals have not liked the idea of giving the widow too much money ... like she doesn't need it or something and might waste it!!!) I get all excited when I see others step up with generosity and then I remember the situation ... it's nothing to be excited about. At least we can totally overwhelm the widow with kindness. And at least the drivers know that my driving force is Jesus.

Blessed by a short visit with Joey!

Our dear son, Joey, flew into our lives for 8 days! What a total joy to have him around for awhile. It was interesting to see our world through his eyes. So many things which we've just learned to ignore became very obvious to us once again. He confirmed that this really is a crazy place to live!

We are thrilled with what God is doing in and through Joey's life. He's definitely got strong relational gifting and is superb in his work with young teenagers! Now he's back in Australia to finish up his internship with Student Ministries at Hillsong.

We had to work around work but squeezed in a lot of good times and good visits in his few days here. Shots below include time at our beach hut, visiting our driver's family -- that's Jide's Dad with Joey, and saying our farewells. Final shot -- Joey in his own bus (as the only passenger), heading to the airport, with armed escorts following in the white truck behind the bus.

We miss you, Joez!

Happy 4th

Another 4th of July without fireworks, stars and stripes, ... It's hard to even remember what month it is -- they all look alike!
I wore blue and white clothes and a red watch to work -- that was the closest I got to celebrating America's independence.
But here's a strange twist that I didn't even catch until late last night.
Jim left for meetings in Paris yesterday. So some friends, taking pity on me, invited me to join a dinner party at their home. Lovely food, lovely time ...

When I got home, locked myself up tightly in the house, climbed into bed, and picked up the book that I had on my bedstand -- it hit me --
I had just spent the evening of July 4th with a bunch of Brits!!!

So, I read until I fell asleep
that book that I'd been slowly working through
without any previous thought of the season or approaching holiday ...
1776 by David McCullough!!!
Great book!
Great heritage!
Great independence!
Great country!

Rome, Part 2

Rome, Part 1

There was soooo much to see that was photo-worthy in Rome. I'll post photos in parts. It might take awhile. Posting photos is sometimes an ordeal around here! :-) A reminder -- you can always double click on a photo to enlarge your viewing!