Archive for September, 2010

A Tale of Two Hurricanes

The city of Houston will mark the two year anniversary of Hurricane Ike this weekend. Our family chose not to ride out the storm in our suburban Houston home. I tend to be very dramatic (like physically ill and crying) during severe weather events and I wanted to get as far away as possible. I was also pregnant. Pregnancy is a wild card that you can throw out for anything, and I’m obviously doing that now.

We evacuated to my parents’ ranch two days before the storm hit. I packed our wedding album and the computer with all our pictures on it just in case our home was destroyed by the storm. That wasn’t a likely scenario, but hurricanes spawn tornadoes and you just never know. Our neighborhood has large trees and they were a real concern. Thankfully, after the storm cleared we returned to a home with absolutely no damage. Our power was restored before we even made it back home.

Friends have told us that Hurricane Ike was the scariest night of their lives and that they wished they had left. They described it as being terribly loud. They could hear things hitting their homes, but they couldn’t just look outside and see what it was. It was completely dark. Some people in the Houston city limits did lose their homes. Many people were left without power for two weeks. Gas stations ran out of fuel and grocery stores were very low on food. People were acting panicky and it was very scary to see. The damage and loss of life on the coast was shocking. Hurricane Ike is something Houstonians will talk about for years to come.

One of the few concerns I had about coming on this trip was the fact that Guatemala is so vulnerable to hurricanes at this time of year. I wondered where we would take shelter if one came and we couldn’t get home in time. It actually rained so much last week that the country had devastating mudslides. Nearly 40 people died under the mud and rubble.

Last May, Guatemala took a direct hit from Hurricane Agatha. Today we visited some families who were traumatized by the storm. They live in a neighborhood built on a hillside. They cannot afford to live anywhere else.

The first woman we met lost her home. She was very lucky to have escaped in time. Because her three little boys are enrolled in Compassion’s sponsorship program, she had a place to seek help when it was time to rebuild. Through their Partners of Compassion fund, she was provided with building materials that her father used to construct a new home for her family. Her children have suffered with post traumatic stress and now they receive counseling at the child development center once a week.

Another precious mother welcomed our whole group into her tiny home. She showed us how the back porch had collapsed down the hillside as water poured through her house.

By the grace of God, the rest of it remained standing. She wept as she told us about the night she and her family escaped. Now she can’t sleep when it rains because she is so afraid. She is oppressed by the fear that she will hear the screams of those whose homes are slipping down the hillside.

From the story she told through sobs, this is what I gathered that night to have been like. Picture it with me. It has been raining and raining and it only seems to be getting worse. You finally get word that a hurricane is coming and you need to get out of your very vulnerable neighborhood. You discover that the one and only path up the hill has already been washed out from the water careening down the hillside. It won’t be long before the water begins dragging homes down with it. Your only way to escape is to climb the steep, muddy hill in pounding rain. Imagine that the only things you have to hold onto as you climb uphill through a hurricane are unstable trees. Now consider that your three small children are with you.

I could only think of how my friends told me that riding out Hurricane Ike in their very well crafted and sturdy American homes was the scariest night of their lives. I could only consider that I hadn’t even been brave enough to try. And here I was in the most vulnerable neighborhood I’d ever seen. It was God’s grace that any of these families made it out alive.

I was listening hard to try to understand this mother’s story without the translator’s help. One thing I know for sure was that she constantly said “I’m so thankful.” She was thankful to be alive. She was thankful for the support of her children’s Compassion project. She was thankful for our prayers for her family’s continued safety. When we took a moment to pray for her, she simultaneously prayed for us, saying “Gracias, Senor.” She literally could not wait to express her thanks to God.

I’ve come to the point where I need to tie a nice bow on this story. I don’t have it. It must have been swept away in the hurricane. What I do have is this. Compassion International is helping some of the most vulnerable children and families on earth. Their intervention is not just an idea – it is concrete. I saw it today with my own eyes. If you have a heart to help these vulnerable children, I would like to invite you to join me in sponsoring a child in Guatemala for $38 a month. I promise you that his or her life will be changed. And so will yours.

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You’ll Never Guess Where I Am

Curtis and I live about 30 minutes from our church, so we have a lot of time to discuss our Sunday school lesson and sermon notes as we drive home. There is a certain point on the Katy Freeway feeder road that always reminds me to encourage my husband about the lesson he taught. Last Sunday we were rapidly approaching it and I had nothing. Stink! It wasn’t because his lesson wasn’t great. I honestly did not hear a word he said. Neither did I have any idea what our pastor’s sermon was about.

I flashed back to February 1, 2009, which was the Sunday before Annabeth was born. I remember wondering why I bothered coming to church because all I could think, talk, or pray about was giving birth. Last Sunday I was completely consumed with thinking about an upcoming trip to Guatemala and I was literally good for nothing else. I realized it had been almost exactly nine months since I had been invited to join a group of bloggers on a trip to see Compassion International at work in Guatemala. And it was finally my due date! I was not getting a baby out of this experience, but I hoped I would be born new.

Curtis and I picked up our first Compassion sponsorship packet after a By the Tree concert when we were newlyweds. We have been blessed to partner with them in serving Marlon Alexander in Honduras for about seven years. Through his letters, we have been able to see him develop into a thoughtful and faith-filled young man. We were already fans of Compassion before I was approached about this trip, but I knew from my sister’s experience with them in India that I would be blown away by how truly excellent it is.

In a nutshell, Compassion International is a child development organization that serves over one million children worldwide. Six hundred thousand sponsors are currently partnering with this organization to rescue children from poverty in Jesus’ name. Compassion’s aim is to be an advocate for children, to release them from their spiritual, economic, social and physical poverty, and enable them to become responsible and fulfilled Christian adults. This is largely achieved through monthly financial support from one sponsor to one child.

Our team arrived in Guatemala City last night. I’d never met any of the other travelers in person, but after only 36 hours, I already think the world of them. The bloggers are Lindsey Nobles, Ann Voskamp, Lisa-Jo from The Gypsy Mama, and myself. The Compassion staffers are Shaun Groves, Dustin Hardage, amazing photographer Keely Scott, and my lovely roommate, Mrs. Patricia Jones! My sister called me right before I got to the airport to tell me how much she had loved Patricia on her Compassion trip to India in April of 2009. She is a wonderful lady with an amazing family. I’m hoping some of her mothering skills will absorb into my being while I sleep six feet away from her.

Our day started off with a trip to Compassion’s office here in Guatemala City. We got to see the various departments and meet the ladies and gentlemen who run the hub of Compassion’s activity in this country. There are 142 child development centers here that serve a total of 35,000 children. One of the most striking things about the office was that many of the desks were empty. The workers were busy out in the field! They did not have time to sit at those desks. I loved that.

If you already sponsor a Compassion child, you can probably appreciate that my favorite part was meeting the correspondence staff. They were working hard at translating stacks and stacks of letters.

I took some of Mom’s Esther books in Spanish to give to the Compassion ladies.

Later, we arrived at the Dios Habla Hoy (God Speaks Today) Student Center. All of Compassion’s student centers are hosted in churches. Curtis and I are passionate about the local church and this aspect really appeals to me. More on that to come.

As we started filing into the church, the deafening cheers of one hundred and fifty kids filled the air. There was a sea of beautiful smiling faces, wide eyes and waving hands. It was very humbling to be shown such love. The children performed songs and recited memory verses they had learned. One by one, all the adult church members who volunteered in the program were introduced on stage. There were twenty of them.

The presentation ended with a rousing rendition of a song you and I know as Lord You Are Good by Israel Houghton. Oh my word, I was doing everything humanly possible notto fall in a heap on the floor in full-on ugly cry. The kids were dancing their hearts out and singing these words in Spanish: Lord you are good and your mercy endureth forever…People from every nation and tongue, from generation to generation…We worship you for who you are…And you are good! Mom, I know you are reading this and I need you to know this was possibly the highlight of my life. Aside from my wedding and the births of my children. But it was high up there.

We enjoyed getting to serve Pollo Campero to the children for lunch. It’s like the Chick-fil-a of Latin America. I finally got brave enough to try out my rusty Spanish on some of the kids while they were eating their chicken sandwiches. They just grin at you whether you say something right or not. After lunch the children went to their classrooms and we went around visiting each one. The kids seemed very happy to be there.

Soon the children went home and we gathered with the project coordinator, the pastor of the church, and all the volunteer workers. The pastor spoke of how much the children meant to the church. The program is relatively new at only 16 months old. The church has eleven new families that became members after their children entered the program. A man who I believe worked as a tutor stood up and spoke with tears in his eyes. His older children serve there with him. A precious woman who is in charge of serving the food also spoke through tears about how much the children meant to her. She, too, serves there with her older children.

I think the most profound thing I saw today was the beautiful relationship between Compassion and the local church. I expected to see the benefits the child development program on the children. I did not, however, expect to see the children having such an amazing effect on the church members. The children are served there twice a week and the volunteers admitted it was hard work. But the joy, fulfillment and energy that their presence brings to the church was palpable. It was clear that the children were highly valued. I was so moved that families were serving God there together.

We have three more days to experience the Lord’s work through Compassion here in Guatemala City. Please pray for our team to be a blessing to the children, to the workers, and to the families. Pray that we will allow God to have His way with our hearts. Pray that hope and new life will be born in the poor and the rich. Gracias, hermanas!

Con amor,
Amanda

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A Walk to Think

My man and I decided last night that we’d opt out of sleeping late like a holiday morning woos you to do and, instead, head about 30 minutes from our house to the country and watch the sun come up. Usually anything we do our dogs do with us but this time we decided to leave them at home, long-faced and dejected. Sometimes you just need to be alone and hear yourself think. Or take a long pause to see if you can remember why you liked each other. We made us some coffee on the way out the door and poured it in a small thermos. We grabbed a couple of lawn chairs and dragged them out to our favorite spot and sat without saying a single word. When you’ve been married as long as Keith and I, you come to expect that you’re going to have on seasons and off seasons and that, unless something’s going haywire, they’re neither one there to stay. My way of dealing with an off season is to talk it out and gnaw it like a bone into a toothpick till we’re back on or claim we are. Keith’s way is to run for his life and find the nearest dead zone for his cell phone. Both approaches have served us well enough. After all, we have raised two children to adulthood together and fallen head over heels in love with two grandbabies and have no plan at the present to see a lawyer. This time we just decided to do something new. Keith didn’t run and I didn’t talk.  We just sat side by side in a pair of lawn chairs and listened to the woods.

I heard a lizard scurry over some dead leaves. Birds sang morning songs. Frogs croaked. The trees creaked and stretched like we woke them out of a dead slumber. A squirrel darted from branch to branch looking for breakfast to go. It reminded me of myself after about three cups of strong coffee. Everything else was moving slow and easy. Tiptoeing really. It was so quiet that I heard an oak leaf detach from a limb way over my head and I watched it fall to the ground in no big hurry at all. The morning sun glistened on the nocturnal masterpiece of a long-legged writing spider.

Wild lemons weighed down the branches of a small tree and just looking at one made the glands in my mouth squirt. It was too early for lemons, wild or otherwise.

Keith and I go to the country sometimes just to remind ourselves of things we have in common. So many of our likes and tastes aren’t only different. They scare the other half to death. They’d never take each other to lunch and, when we go, we have to go without them. We are reminded all the time that we met accidentally, naturally speaking, and married impulsively. But we both dearly love to be outside and to take really long walks and talk about almost nothing. This is one of our favorite spots on this particular country trail. It’s a clear little lazy creek that smiles in the sunshine but grows fangs in a storm, pulling trees from their roots. Maybe that’s Keith and me, too.

But, 31 years later, I still usually follow right after him. On level ground, he always takes the lead, especially on this country trail where the person in front has to swipe one spider web after another or wear them home. On mountain hikes, I take the lead because…well, because, that’s where I’m a beast. He claims it’s the altitude and that I can breathe thin air better than he. I choose to think I’m a hiking fiend…with a bad knee and a herniated disk. Right after this picture, I heard leaves cracking right at my feet as we stepped over an old rotted log. I glanced down expecting to see a big lizard and caught a solid, eye-popping stare at what my man claims to be the biggest copperhead he’s ever seen in his life. May it rest in peace. Lord, have mercy. I do not know why Keith Moore and I can’t seem to do life apart from snakes. It took about 15 minutes for my blood pressure to go back to normal.

When we got to this spot, Keith said, “Sit down over there, Liz’beth, and I’ll take your picture.” Dutiful wife that I am, I did. He’s just learning how to take a decent pic with my I-phone. He doesn’t really have fingertips and that’s what an I-phone takes. The ends of Keith’s fingers are more like manly stumps. He’s really cute when he’s trying though. Keith looks out of place with mini things. It’s not that he’s so big. He’s about 6 feet, 210 pounds. It’s just that his outside is upsized by his insides. Anyway, here’s his wife. She really doesn’t love early morning country humid hair but blogs are for the honest. Not for the proud.

One of our favorite things on this piece of Texas countryside is this old, broken down deer blind that marks the spot where one couple years ago commemorated their heavy crush with a can of spray paint. I don’t doubt it doubled as a kissing blind about that same time. About this time on our walk, my man and I were feeling a little less off. Sometimes all it takes to find some fresh affection is a willing recollection. Like B + K.

Well, thanks for taking a stroll with me, Sister. Don’t make anything serious out of this harmless chatter. When you’ve been married as long as we have and you have Moore feelings than normal, life is one big, wonderful, gnarly twisted knot of off and on again. But make no mistake. It’s a knot.

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Biography Winners and More Books!

Hey, Sweet Things!

I have had the best time reading your three wishes! They were just as insightful or amusing as I hoped they’d be. I told Melissa that about 500 of you stirred up wishes in me that I’d overlooked. I kept going, “Me, too! That’s what I’d do, too!”  I do not know exactly what the Kingdom of Christ will be like but I do know that it will exceed our wildest expectations and be all-glorious and everything we were originally fashioned for in the image of our Creator.  Truly home for the first time, we will experience fullness of effervescent life without our frustrating restraints and we will know as we’ve been known. Best of all, we will see Jesus’ face…and in that very moment, every hardship will be worth it and Romans 8:18 will be our reality.

It’s time to announce our winners for Melissa’s biography drawing. I decided to throw in five addition spots because there were so many entries. That gives us a total of 15 prizes. Below are the blogger names and times they entered. If you see your first name with no last name, double check the comments to confirm whether or not it was you. If it was, jot an email to [email protected] with your name, mailing address and which of the two biographies (Bonhoeffer or Amy Carmichael) you choose as your prize.

Sharoni Humphreys on August 31 at 12:30 PM.

Corrie on August 31 at 1:17 PM.

Warm in Alaska on August 31 at 2:27 PM.

Karen Twombly on August 31 at 2:51 PM.

Mary Yep on August 31 at 5:24 PM

Denise on August 31 at 7:39 PM.

Ryan Zwicky on September 1 at 8:21 AM.

Suzy on September 1 at 9:14 AM.

Wonder Woman (I love that one) on September 1 at 10:00 AM.

Pamela Sheldon on September 1 at 1:51 PM.

Lisa on September 1 at 5:14 PM.

Becky on September 1 at 7:52 PM.

Kate on September 1 at 9:26 PM.

Katie Todd on September 2 at 8:48 AM.

Erika on September 2 at 10:53 AM.

Happy reading, Dear Sisters! While we’re on the wonderful subject of books, I’ll share with you a couple that I have received in the mail in the last 48 hours from their publishers or agents. One of the upsides of publishing a book is that you can end up in a loop where you receive other authors’ books automatically in the mail. It’s always a delightful surprise and often, for me, not pearls before swine. These came in the mail to me back to back and as wonderfully different as night and day.

I’m exhilarated over both of them. Mary Beth Chapman is a personal friend of mine and I am ecstatic to see God glorified and the devil mortified after all her family has been through. She is as down to earth as you can get. If you are tempted to give up or just tempted to give in, consider her story. And, as for Nancy Pearcey, she’s who I’d want to be when I grow up…if I weren’t older. (I think. Maybe I just feel older. I can’t tell how old she is from her picture. Anyway, I think it’s clear at this point that I’m probably not going to turn into her. I’d have made it one of my three wishes if I thought it would help.) Nancy’s previous book Total Truth should be required reading on every Christian university campus and in the library of every Christian home on the planet. My copy is marked up from the first page to the last. I have already skimmed through the new one and I expect it to have equal impact on my thinking and, Lord, let it be, on my faith. It has the best title ever, don’t you think? The subtitle should tell us something big is at stake: A Call to Resist the Secular Assault on Mind, Morals, and Meaning.

I am amazed by a God who raises and equips all sorts of servants across the entire spectrum of gifts, interests, and personalities in His hot pursuit of this fallen world. We are blessed beyond measure to receive from the heavy investments of these two women in the kingdom of Christ.

Speaking of books, I’ve got a stack of commentaries waiting for me. Day light’s a burnin’, as my grandmother would say. Those books are not going to study themselves.

I’ll try to touch base at some point over the holiday weekend! Have a blessed one indeed!

Much love to each of you.

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If I could, I would…

Hey, Siestas! We will do our random drawing later today as promised and, if you don’t mind a little delay, post our biography winners within the next forty-eight hours so we can leave time for you to respond to this post. I learned something new about you over the previous post: YOU ARE READERS. And I love that. Get a load of the number of comments to that post! Of course, it makes sense when you think about it. Blog readers usually are…well…readers. I have already ordered several books from your recommendations and others of you mentioned titles that stirred up great memories of biographies past.I am a dyed in the wool book nerd so this totally spoke my love language.

I’ve been thinking about something since AJ’s recent post about stepping back from her LPM job for the sake of her family. In that post and in the one that followed, we hashed over the painful truth that, actually, no one can do everything and, unless our all is Jesus, no one can have everything. We have limited resources of time, energy, and ability. But, I thought it would be fun to list a few things (dreams, if you will) that we’d each do…if only we could. If only we were not limited by time, energy, and ability, or money, for heaven’s sake. How would you complete the sentence, “If I could, I would…?” Here are the ground rules: YOU CAN ONLY NAME THREE THINGS. You have to choose. Keep in mind, these aren’t regrets. (i.e. “If I could, I would…live my whole life again without making that stupid choice.” We all have plenty of those and they’re not likely to encourage others much.) The things we’re listing on this post are wishes! Dreams can say a lot about a person and reshape how we picture one another. For instance, maybe I’ll find out today that Moose Mama secretly wishes she could sky dive, or katiegfromtennessee has a long standing dream of being a zookeeper, or Sister Lynn has always wanted to take tuba lessons. You see, this could change everything. OK, well not everything. Not even much. But, for crying out loud, wouldn’t it at least be a little fun in a grueling week? Here are three of mine:

If I could, I would…

1) Travel to every country on earth.

2) Teach elementary school Sunday School.

3) Learn sign language fluently.

OK, how about you?

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