a special birthday girl

I don't quite understand the bond my sister and I have as there is a six-year difference between us. The only explanations I can come up with are that she was and is incredibly patient and intentional with her little sister, and that our relationship is nothing less than a gift from God. Ever since I can remember, I have wanted to do everything my big sis did out of sheer awe of her. Though we have changed, we still love a lot of the same things, are weird about the same things, and say things simaltaneously (jinx!). Our lives have taken slightly different turns, especially this past year with me moving a continent away, but I know our depth of friendship will never change. For this I am forever grateful.

These are just a few of the reasons why I love her. Kelly is one of the most sacrificial people I know--to her family, her friends, her students, and her dance girls. She is the best listener and advice-giver of anyone on the planet; she listens without condemnation, and gives advice from the wisdom that God gives her. Kelly's gift of giving--her creativity, artistic ability, and thoughtfulness--make any present she selflessly gives all the more heartfelt. She loves others not only with gifts, but with her words of affirmation (mostly well-written cards that make you cry no matter how many times you read them), and with her gift of time. Reminiscing and missing frequent qualitiy times with Kelly makes me appreciate her all the more. Who would've ever thought a 13-year-old would take the time to really invest in her 7-year-old sister? Or that a 20-year-old college student would intentionally write letters of encouragement to her preteen sibling? Or that a wife, mother, and full-time counselor would take so much time to counsel her younger sister when she's being melodramatic? Kelly is a rare gem. I know God doesn't have favorites, but he gave her something extra special, and I think anyone who knows her would agree.

So for the 30 years that you have been a bright light to Mom and Dad and the whole family, for the 24 you have poured into me, for the 7 that you have devoted to Charlie, for the 2 you've selflessly given to Maddie, and for all the years you have served, loved, taught, listened and inspired all those you have known, thank you. I celebrate you and thank God for you, Kel. I love you with all my heart! Happy birthday, from me and 10 sweet first graders.

bolivia day

Just another special thing about my school. Every year we have Bolivia Day, a day of traditional dance, games and food from the different departments (states) of the country. I was a cholita antigua from La Paz. With a couple minor changes, this is still what many women here wear...not exactly the most flattering or comfy, mind you.

Everyone dresses up, including the little ones! I wish my video of them would upload because they danced the Jal'ka, a traditional baile from Sucre. They were absolutely adorable. The teachers actually danced, too, but unfortunately I don't have footage from that.

What an honor and joy to be part of such an incredible community and living in such a beautiful country!

luciana

Meet Luciana, one of the most loveable first graders on the planet. She is a bright girl, though she can often be found daydreaming in her own little world. She says the cutest things every day. I wish I had time to write them all down. There were a couple instances this week, though, that are unforgettable.
We were brainstorming words as a class that start with "wh" and one we came up with was "which." Somehow, in one of her unfocused states, she thought we were thinking of rhyming words with those words. So, she starts saying rhyming words with "which," and of course, in total innocence comes across the one that begins with "b" and says, "Miss, is b**** a word? B**** is a word, right, Miss?" It took everything in me not to burst out with laughter. I just reminded her of the exercise and we moved on.

The following morning, Luciana was praying for a classmate's prayer request:

"Dear God, Thank you for to help othered again Joaquin's uncle for he going to have a baby. Amen." Precious, right?

Dear God, Thank you for Luciana. Please help her to realize that all good things, including her sweet spirit, come from you.

never a dull moment

Oh, the adventures of living in Bolivia. I went to Uyuni with a couple friends over Easter break. We took a 3-day tour of the Salt Flats (google "Salt Flats Bolivia" if you've never heard of them...simply amazing), the deserts and a few lagunas. It was an incredible time of gasoline-tasting bread, the bumpiest car and bus rides I've ever experienced, and the most fascinating scenery I've ever seen. My friends and I played in the salt, stayed in hostels, climbed rocky mountains and even learned how to make delicious, homemade granola from the chef of a hostel restaurant.

However, the most adventurous part of the trip would be when I got stuck in quicksand. That's right. Quicksand.

Here's how it all went down. There's a sign that read, "Toilet 5 km." And below it said, "Stop!" So I'm thinking, Wow. They really don't want people using the bathroom here, as most backpackers tend to go anywhere and everywhere outside. I proceeded to walk out toward the little salt islands on the lake to get a closer picture of the flamingos. Bad idea. Two steps and I was up to my knees in gloopy, gloppy mud. Apparently "Stop!" does not have a thing to do with the bathroom. It means "Stop! Quicksand! Do not walk! If you take a step further you might die!" They should have been clearer. But I wasn't upset. All this was pretty funny, especially since just before a friend had said, "Tell us how mushy it is!" It was very mushy, though now no verbal explanation was necessary.

I had not yet realized it was quicksand because, from the movies I'd seen, I thought quicksand was something that swallowed you in one fell swoop if you happened to fall in. So, I began attempting to get myself free. My friends tried as well. No luck. After about 10 minutes of attempting, or struggling rather, in this sulfury, stinky sand, I managed to turn around, though not without coming close to breaking my knee cap, and free one foot. But as the tourists were snapping photos and my friends and I were cracking up at the hilarity of it all, I realized I was slowly sinking on the other side. And I was bummed because my shoe on that leg was halfway off. I really didn't want to lose my favorite tennis shoes.

By now lots of tourists had gathered around to witness the illiterate girl trapped in quicksand; and by now I was feeling a little bit like a circus animal. I probably resembled one with all my grunting trying to get free. I never really was afraid, but after a couple failed attempts by my friends to pull me out, I really was curious as to how I was going to get unstuck. I was now up to my hip on one leg. Then a lady from the nearby hostel, looking very distressed, came running to tell me not to move. Golly, if I had known before that it was quicksand, I would have known that I was making it worse. Some guys with masks followed the scared woman, tying an elastic band around my waist and pulling. It snapped in half. There was talk of having to get a car to pull me out, but the guys tried pulling me (hard!) several times by the arms. After I came to grips with the fact that I would not get to keep my favorite sneakers, they yanked me out and set me free! I'm lacking the lovely photo of the aftermath and the videos that my friends captured. That's okay. I'm not likely to forget much about this incident. Afterward, I threw the other shoe in, derobed in a freezing cold pond, paid three bucks to take a freezing cold shower in the hostel and gave my smelly, quicksand-covered clothes to the people working there. Good lesson to remember about not hanging on to material things.

Now, I wonder if they don't specify what "Stop!" means so they can keep dumb tourists' clothes. Not a bad idea.

river of delights

Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy. -Psalm 98:8Every Sunday afternoon my roommates and I go what we call the river, a shanty village near a sewer-river in La Paz. In broken Spanish (well, except for my roommate Ashlyn--hers is awesome!), we have the privilege of sharing books, math flash cards, and games of soccer with these precious kids.

As I read Scripture, I find several references to the river of God's love, the river representing life in Christ, the river of justice and righteousness. I know the heart of God is near to these precious children and their families, who have little to nothing, but many of whom are eager to be spiritually rich in the Lord. May his river of love flow to these dear little ones.
They feast on the abundance of your house; you give them drink from your river of delights. -Psalm 36:8

rainy, er, haily season

Goodness gracious great balls of granizo! That's "hail" in Spanish, and it comes down quite often here in La Paz during rainy season. Pretty much with every rainstorm you can expect a good batch of hail. It's pretty interesante, so I took a little video.

happy valentine's day

My parents are too good to me. Not only did they love me, support me, and encourage me throughout my childhood and into college, but they continue to show their love for me in so many ways. I so appreciate their skype messages, their emails, their expensive-to-mail boxes of school supplies, how proud they are of me, and their prayers. They are really incredible individuals, and I respect their love for the Lord, for each other, and for others.

After a pretty stressful week last week, I got a call from the school office saying someone had sent me flowers from an international company. I picked them up and, after deciphering a sweet message gone awry by a non-English-speaking writer, I realized my mommy and daddy had flowers delivered to me for Valentine's Day! I recalled those special Valentine's Days as a child of heart-shaped biscuits for breakfast, sweet cards, and little gifts packaged in red and pink, and remembered those as small examples of how much my parents showed their love for my sister and me. Among those precious times, this special delivery will make this year's a Valentine's Day I will never forget.

Thanks, Mom and Dad, for being so thoughtful and loving. I love you. With a love that "crosses the Atlantic Ocean and scales the Andes Mountains..."