Homemade Bread in North Caicos--And What if We Became Bread for Others?

So here is my hubby [far right] and the other Mission Helps crew members starting on the back side of the school/multipurpose building roof.

The days were terribly hot, and it was the winter cool season down there!

It's a good thing we hadn't gone down in September when they first wanted us to come.

That was the hottest month of the year.

The ladies brought in homemade bread, some of the best we've ever eaten, easy to slice and delicious.

Food is often twice as expensive down there.

I cooked from scratch most meals.

I had such a wonderful time, just cooking for a crew of seven, setting table and then clearing it,  washing dishes and doing laundry and sweeping and mopping in this lovely, spacious kitchen of the mission house where we stayed.

I didn't have to multi-task or be interupted all the time [just some of the time]

or try to figure out how to do  so many things that I don't know how to do. 

I just had to sweep and mop up thousands of ants, slap off mosquitos and no-see-ims,

endure some heat.

And I got to be with my dear husband--something I treasure a lot. 

He would sometimes have to come get a recharged battery or some tool and we could sneak a kiss and a hug, and remember to care about each other's hearts. 

And here is what I could see from the back yard.

Several mornings or afternoons I made slushies for the hard-working guys who were suffering with the heat across the road. 

They were so appreciative.

I made enough for the pastor, any visitor at the moment, and the ladies and children at the schoolroom in the church one time.

The folk here had never made a slushy, so I taught the assistant pastor's wife how to do it--even though I'm not sure I had made many myself!

I just put 10 ice cubes in a blender, scooped out the pulp from an orange, added 3 tbsp. sugar and a capful of lime juice, and blended it up into a slushy.

I did two batches to make 6 or 8 little glasses, and made a serving tray out of a muffin tin!

[Forget class on mission projects! You make do with what you have!]

Once a relative of the pastor brought us ready-made restaurant meals from where she worked with yummy lobster! That was so special!

Another time, the pastor's wife, I believe it was, brought a dish of conch fritters and dip.

Those were fabulous.

How fun to savor seafood!

Here is what it looked like where I hung laundry by the house.

I would almost always get bit up my bugs pretty badly while hanging.

All day the guys would work on the roof or indoors on ceilings, 

and then several days they took off down the hill to disappear into the bay swimming to cool off.

They even managed to get Jonathan to go with them once!

He learned to float--almost!

I would stay up at the house seeing that supper would be ready when they got back, 

and we'd eat supper after they all hosed off their salt-water-laden clothes in the back yard,

and then track in one at a time to shower.

It's a good thing I grew up with four brothers and am raising three boys, too,

because I managed to put up with wet clothes lying around the back yard 

and dirt being tracked into the house!

But really, the team was great to cook for and clean up behind, 

always respectful and kind and appreciative

and when I let them they even did the dishes a few times.

The rest of the time I shooed them off since they'd worked so hard all day.

Saturday and early Sunday morning I prepared a few visuals to tell a story to the children's Sunday School class.
I had talked to the pastor's wife, asking if she'd like me to share a story because I  know what it is like to be a burned out Sunday School teacher and the blessing it is to have someone actually be willing to take a turn or help out in class.

And because I believe that we need to be broken bread and poured out wine.
 I didn't have to offer.
I could have sat and warmed a pew.
Instead I shared a story (asking Jonathan to help me with the visuals)--my never-fail story about Amy Carmichael and how God always answers prayer, and two new songs that the pastor's wife and the children seemed eager to learn.

We learned a verse.

And then the pastor's wife wanted us to go ahead and finish the class,

so on the spur of the moment I had to come up with something to fill in the last 20 minutes!

I suggested Jonathan and I take turns telling about some exciting things that have happened on our Mission Helps trips, so Jonathan told about nearly getting mugged in Honduras, and I told about our trip to New Guinea.
Jonathan also told about God sparing his life before we got married
when he fell asleep at the wheel and nearly got mashed by a semi.

He told the children that just like he realized after that happened,

that God had a plan for his life,

God also has a plan for their lives!

As the children filed by us on their way out, one of the pastor's grandsons said to us,

"I wish you would be here forever!"

Here is the boy's father and mother, the assistant pastor.
I like to have Jonathan help me in class, because I think it is good for boys in the class to have a father figure up front. There were several big boys in the class, and I believe they really enjoyed hearing stories from a real live man whom God had used and protected and had a plan for.
The best compliment we can ever receive does not come from a grown-up or a pastor
or a big-wig, or someone important.
It comes from a child's heart--"I wish you could be here forever."

And so just when we feel most broken,

and most crushed and ground up and torn apart and unsure of life's next step,

we surrender to being broken bread

and poured out wine

and just doing the next thing.