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Epilogue

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If you’re reading this, thank you. The teacher in me wants to ask for a show of hands for how many actually read all of my posts and award a prize. Maybe a sticker for your sticker chart? Seriously, the love that just kept coming all year proved wrong all the warnings that said our friends back home would forget to reach out, would maybe make us feel forgotten. I disagree, thank You, Jesus! “God is just. He will not forget how  hard you have worked or the  love the you have shown for Him  by helping His people,  which you continue to do.  We don't want you to do this  just for a few years,  but as long as you live.  We want this kind of ministry  to become second nature to you  so that your hope will become  even more a reality.” (Hebrews 6:10,11;  Clear Word Paraphrase ) Hands and Feet I remember stirring fried rice on one of my last days at Familia Feliz and looking at my hands. My thumb was cut from chopping onions for suppe...
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Adiós vs. Caio

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Adiós Have you ever stopped to break the word apart? A. Dios. To God. I know, I know. It’s not the right translation. But every time I think, “Adiós,” I also think, “To God.” In Bolivia we say, “Caio,” and rarely, if ever, “Adios.” Actually, I think I’ve heard the word once all year. But “Caio” is too casual and doesn’t really seem to fit the crushing finality of today. Saying goodbye yesterday, I told the kids I was telling them, “To God. Go to God. Go with God. For the rest of your life until we meet again, live for God.” When I say adiós and mean “to God,” it guarantees that the goodbye is only temporary.  But it’s so hard to say. Caio I’ve been in the caio stage for a minute now, parceling out my clothing after I wash it, giving away random creams and gums and containers and gifts. The fun part of going is leaving material things of mine in the hands of kids who’ve admired things like those fairy lights, ukulele, and my hammock all year. The fun part is going ham with the g...
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