Tea and Prayer Time with a Friend

Last week the Lord looked down from His window in the sky

and saw a very lonely little wife whose husband was thousands of miles away and who desperately needed a friend of her same beliefs and someone who could understand her as an easterner...

and He gave that lonely little wife a big, sweet surprise--

a text with an invitation to tea and a time of prayer and fellowship Thursday afternoon with Tammy Hallam up in Elizabeth, CO, about 35 minutes away!

I have a few home school mother friends, but  none of my same beliefs exactly, which is not a HUGE deal to me, because, contrary to what some teach, I believe my Baptist home school friend is going to heaven, and so is my Apostolic Christian Church friend, and so are my Presbyterian and Mennonite friends, 

just as much as my Wesleyan Methodist doctrine friends--

as long as their hearts are pure in God's sight. 

I have my own set of beliefs in the Arminian doctrines, but I refuse to be more closed hearted than John Wesley himself who, when asked timidly by a lady after rank Calvanist George Whitfield's death
as to whether he expected to see George Whitfield in heaven, responded,

"George Whitefield was so bright a star in the firmament of God's glory, and will stand so near the throne, that one like me, who am less than the least, will never catch a glimpse of him."

http://www.sermonindex.net/modules/newbb/viewtopic.php?topic_id=29733&forum=45

This is the attitude of John Wesley, the humble founder of Methodism.

Much as he disagreed with Whitfield in doctrine, he refused to judge Whitfield's heart,

and in fact expressed complete and sincere confidence that Whitfield would be in heaven far ahead of himself. 

What an example John Wesley gave, rather than making absurdly unScriptural statements I have heard, such as, 

"If you are saved you can't go to hell,

but if you aren't sanctified, you can't go to heaven."

But for my own personal needs right now, I needed a Wesleyan Methodist background friend 

with a big open heart toward others

who understands an easterner, and

that would understand me somewhat, in general--

a really tall order!

I've known Tammy Hallam for a few years now, only from their rare visits to our home church at revival times, or at the Bible Missionary Campmeeting which we attended a few times in the last couple years. Hallams were two of the few people who would reach out to us as outsiders and greet us and be friends. But only in the last few months have we gotten more acquainted.

Stuart and Tammy [Smith] Hallam are superintendent over the western district of Bible Missionary churches out here. Tammy attended a year at Penn View Bible Institute and then went back to teach there a few years, leaving shortly before my family moved to Penn View for Dorcas and me to attend. Tammy and Stuart were married in the same church in PA where Jonathan and I were--

the Millmont God's Missionary Church, and were married by the same preacher who prayed at our wedding!

 The Hallams are different than some in the church they are with, in that they have an open enough heart to actually enter the doors of a church of another denomination!

Anyway, their church is without a pastor temporarily, so Bro. Stuart is filling in when he's not elsewhere. We attended a couple revival services there recently, and also prayer meeting last week.

Then Thursday I accepted Tammy's invitation and drove up to tea and prayer time. The Hallams were part of a prayer chain and were committed to pray at 2:30 that day. 

Would I like to pray with them? I could tell Tammy was a bit hesitant when she suggested that sometimes they pray up to an hour.

Would I be turned off?

I was only too glad for a chance to join others in an hour of coming before God to intercede for all that were on our hearts.

I loved it! Bro. Stuart was walking in the dining area and praying, and Tammy and I were kneeling in her livingroom, I at a rocking chair stuffed with fragrant pillows.

Her home is decorated with white barn board type decor.
I prayed for everyone I could think of.

I have longed for something like this for years!

After the prayer time, Bro. Stuart headed off to his office in the basement and Tammy and I could have tea and visit together.

One of my siblings gave me this bag of delicious "Dandy Blend" coffee substitute made of rye, chicory root, barley, and beet. It is delicious with a little cream and stevia mixed in, 

much better tasting than some cocao-based coffee substitute I've tried. It wasn't what we had there, as I didn't take any pictures there, but I had mint tea and we talked and shared ideas. Tammy was supposed to speak this week to a group of pastors' wives, and she and I were going through a couple books for quotes and other ideas for her talk.

I was able to share with them a book we'd gotten by Rollin Mitchell, What Pastors Wish Their Laymen Knew.

Bro. Hallam liked what he saw in it so well, he came back upstairs to tell us that he had ordered all of Bro. Mitchell's books except one which was no longer available!

It was soo fun to be there that day, to contribute books and quotes for their speaking needs, and have time to talk with another middle-aged,Wesleyan Methodist mother with some eastern roots.

Birds of a Feather--My Favorite Photo of Jonathan

This was my favorite photo of Jonathan while he was gone to Guatemala. The pastor of the church the crew roofed accompanied the crew back across the border to Mexico yesterday, along with another brother who is over the HIM churches in Guatemala, and here is my dear husband with arms around these dear brothers. 

You can see how much shorter the Guatemalan men are than an American like Jonathan, who isn't really all that tall!

But no matter! These dear short brothers are giants!

And the above picture and the picture below are just two examples of how

"Birds of a feather flock together."

Although Jonathan is no preacher, his heart is set to help missions and the spread of the gospel, and he and the Mission Helps crew came alongside a pastor who had been stoned nearly to death for trying to start a church in this village. The pastor's wife was in tears yesterday morning when she said goodbye to Jonathan and the crew.

It is a blessing to sacrifice for people like this.

Meanwhile, up in Colorado, Timmy had ordered in a batch of chicks, and he called me out to look at how the chicks had gathered to sleep under the warm light.

The yellow ones were together, the black ones were together, and the rusty ones were together.  

It was like they had found each other by color! 

All during this long, cold, snowy winter, we've been visited over and over by a downy woodpecker.

The starlings' feet must have been cold, for they landed on the horse's back!

Here they are, huddled to keep warm one very cold day.

Gagging Down Beef Liver in Guatemala

Today Jonathan called and had a funny story that had us all laughing.

Here is a picture of the crew that roofed this church as well as built and roofed the porch, made the rails and church doors and other things. Of course, I am always looking to see where my man is!

Last night, the crew went to a restaurant a couple miles away that ended up being closed. So they retraced their steps to another one which had only about two items on the menu: some kind of soup and some kind of beef. Nobody knew what the Spanish word was that came after beef, but the men assumed they would get a nice beef dish.

Well, imagine how aghast some of them were when their plates finally arrived back with servings of beef liver upon them!

Jonathan probably didn't have nearly as much trouble eating this as did some others, because we often have beef or elk liver for dinner, and we've learned a really tasty way to serve it, slicing the liver into strips and sauteeing it with onions, oil, and salt and pepper.

Well, little did the men know that this meal was not to be the end of their liver problems!

The Guatemalan pastor, who was with the crew at the restaurant, had noticed how so many of the men had ordered beef liver, so he must have thought they liked it! At least this is all Jonathan could figure when this morning the pastor's wife fixed beef liver special for all the guys along with the one other item she served on their plates! 

The guys had enough beef liver to last them a long, long time!

Here is the pastor and his family. He is the one who was stoned twice when first endeavoring to start a church. 

 But this, folks, was not the end of trying to gag down unusual food.

No sooner did the guys get down the liver, but the pastor was mixing up more of the aloe vera and what-not concoction that he had been mixing for the one guy who had been having kidney stone pain. The concoction did work, because whereas the first two mornings the man had been rolling on the floor in pain after breakfasts, he was no longer on the floor after breakfast. 

It was decided that all the guys should try some of this concoction.

Jonathan told me on the phone that, seeing the concoction would soon be coming their way, Forrest Wheeler looked at Jonathan and suddenly remembered that they needed to put a few more screws in some door over at the church, 

to which Forrest and Jonathan quickly and gratefully disappeared!

(This is a picture of church people on the porch.)

When the two came back, they hid out behind somewhere so they wouldn't have to drink this concoction which might have been very healthy, but which Jonathan was afraid of upchucking on the winding and bumpy way down the mountain. He had already been very sick in the back of the truck on the way back from hiking the volcano.

By this time this evening, the crew has safely arrived back in Mexico, and will be visiting the ocean before heading toward the airport they fly out of in the wee hours of Thursday morning. 

I am going to be soooo glad to have my hubby back!

Jonathan, Live Wires, and Overlooking Offenses

Jonathan called me later in the day after he had been working on the electrical wiring down there in Guatemala. He told me he purposely didn't tell me ahead of time what he was going to be doing that day.

Thank you, Sweetheart!

At Jonathan's parents' home this evening where we took a birthday supper in to his mother,

his dad let me know that Jonathan did NOT learn stunts like this from him!

That is good to know someone that I should not blame! :)
Jonathan had told me that the dear old Norm Uber who had gone along on this trip at 83 years old

had prayer with him before he went to work on the electric wires--LIVE!

All I know is that I am very thankful to have my husband still in one piece after he was asked to do the electrical work at this place. This doesn't look quite so dangerous!

It's all done now.  Now I can breathe easier.

The guys just hiked up the volcano this morning, that's all. 

Here they are enjoying the top of the volcano.

A couple more pictures from the work days. Here a little cart and ice cream vendor came by.

I hope to post a few pictures of the roofed church soon.

****

This topic is unrelated,  but I read these thoughts recently, and they meant so much to me,

“Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense” (Prov. 19:11). In moments of calm, the wise man’s counsel sounds so right, so sane. Overlooking offenses is our glory.
Then the offenses actually come, and we often find them too large to look over. The actual size of the offense often matters little. A spouse’s consistent faultfinding, a boss’s unfair criticism, a stranger’s unaccountable rudeness — given the right circumstances, any of these may rise up in front of us like a son of Anak, its shoulders stretching to heaven (Numbers 13:33). Peripherals blur, tunnel vision ensues, and we have eyes only for The Offense.


"...Peter, writing to Christians familiar with offense, comes alongside Proverbs to show us a different way: “This is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly” (1 Peter 2:19). In three little words, Peter shares one of the keys to overlooking offenses great and small: we become mindful of God.
In other words, we don’t focus on the offense itself. We don’t stare at something that merely distracts us from what’s really important. We certainly don’t look within ourselves. Rather, we overlook offenses by looking up to God, by becoming mindful of who he is for us in this very moment — in the office, at the dinner table, on the phone call, during the meeting.

"To be sure, Peter’s readers were dealing with offenses more severe than the kind Westerners typically face: physical abuse (1 Peter 2:20), ridicule (1 Peter 4:4), fiery trials (1 Peter 4:12). But learning to overlook the biggest offenses usually begins with learning to overlook the smallest. Enduring slander begins with enduring a sarcastic remark. Enduring a beating begins with enduring a cold shoulder. Being mindful of God in everyday offenses trains us to be mindful of him when the worst comes."

from https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/how-to-overlook-an-offense

Attitude is Everything--Pick a Good One

At the used car dealer where we bought our van, this sign was hanging behind the office desks.

 So while Jonathan is gone for ten days to Guatemala, after the first rather awful day of waking up and finding him gone, and everything seeming so awfully silent and stark--

no morning snuggles in bed, 

no whir of the coffee grinder,

no voice on the phone supervising what happens today at the job,

no hubby wandering around the kitchen with a cup of coffee and his phone to read his Bible on and follow prayer requests,

no lunch box to pack or mug to fill,

no clunking of firewood into the woodstove till Sam gets up, 

no kind voice talking to the children and me...

I have to make some decisions about attitude.
Thankfully, we were able to get through that first difficult day and then start a new sort of normal while Daddy is gone. 

Here is a sweet, cute, humorous article I read one of these days when I just kind of needed to check out of the day for a while.

http://dorcassmucker.blogspot.com/2018/02/the-happy-pursuit-of-staying-at-home.html

I've had some quotes about suffering waiting to be posted.

(Not saying I'm suffering, just haven't had a chance to post these yet!!! :)  from Desiring God.

"Suffering is undeniably bitter.

Sometimes God’s people, with good intentions to promote piety, can undersell the heartache of suffering. Instead they look disapprovingly at any believer who would question the necessity of God’s difficult providences. To groan under the pains of life in a fallen world can be seen as the pitiable reflex of the spiritually immature. This view is difficult to square with our Savior’s own passionate, sweat-soaked, sleepless plea on the eve of his crucifixion, “If it is possible, let this cup pass from me” (Matthew 26:39)."

"Notice the word “endure.” It combats our well-meaning Christian impulse to minimize the struggle we (or others) face in the midst of suffering. Endurance assumes difficulty. One does not have to endure that which is not bitter. No one asks others how they are “enduring” their favorite bowl of ice cream. No one asks the radiant, newly engaged couple how they are “enduring” their betrothal. To endure a thing is to live in spite of its difficulty, not to live in denial of it.

Thankfully, Paul writes in such a way as to highlight the fact that the process of suffering which leads to hope is not instantaneous. Endurance denotes time. In order to endure a thing, one must make it through its entire duration. That means there will be seasons, no matter how long or short, where we cannot see or feel the hope which we have been promised. These are dark and difficult times. We grieve while we grope our way through the valley. It’s in the wrestling with it, while strengthening ourselves with the promises of God, that we build endurance. In those seasons, we not only pray for hope; we pray for endurance."

From the following link was the following inspiring story about endurance--

and living "from tree to tree."

from https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/lord-help-me-endure-one-more-day

"I once watched a documentary about the toughest school in all the military (or so the film claimed). It was the winter session of the Army Mountain Warfare School which contained unbelievable trials — physical and emotional — that seemed to assail the students from the time they arrived. But the event with the highest dropout rate was a multi-day hike up a snow packed mountain. It required traversing the whole mountain, from bottom to top, through over ten feet of snow drifts with a large, heavy ruck sack slung to their back and no special equipment. They had their feet and sheer determination.

On the morning of the infamous march, a drill instructor spoke to the soldiers. I expected it to be something full of bombast and bluster, urging the group to complete the task at hand or face swift retribution! Instead, the wise soldier simply said, “If you want to quit, look at the top of the mountain.” He went on, “But if you want to make it through, then just find the closest tree and tell yourself, ‘I’m going to make it to that next tree and then reevaluate.’ And then when you get to that tree, do the same thing again, finding the next closest tree. If you’ll do that, tree by tree, soon enough you’ll find yourself at the top of the mountain.” 

For those in the midst of terrible suffering, looking for hope can be like looking at the top of the mountain, staring at it from the bottom. The thought is nice, but the climb seems impossible. In those moments, the next tree is simply praying for endurance: “Lord, get me through this season, this day, this hour, even this prayer..."
           “Suffering that yields bitterness, cynicism, and alienation is suffering gone awry.”

 And today I read this sweet story shared by Avis Blowers:

                                          Music in the Dark...   Joni Erickson Tada

By day the Lord directs His love, at night His song is with me. --Psalm 42:8

"I was sitting on the stage at a large pastors' conference in the Philippines. Outside a heavy monsoon rain fell while the crowd, inside, was being entertained by a small band of blind musicians. Their music was intricate and lively and the audience was enthralled with their performance. Suddenly there was a rumble and a loud crash of lightning. In the next instant, the entire conference hall went dark. The powerful storm caused the lights to go out. Unfazed, the musicians hardly skipped a beat, even though it was pitch-black. When their song was over, the audience burst into thunderous applause -- the darkness gave us all a unique and amazing appreciation for the extraordinary talent God had given these blind musicians.

What really turned up the wattage on the praise that night was the fact that they played through the dark. The same is true when we live for God. Sure, our lives resound with praise when he lights our path and we follow him -a disciple should follow his master. But when there's no light for your path and you follow him through dark times, the volume and the intensity of praise to God goes up many more decibels.

Do we know the Savior by heart? Have we practiced the presence of God to the point where, if times went dark, if we couldn't see the conductor, we would still make His music?"

Jonathan's Brake-Burning Stories from Guatemala!

Late this morning I was getting a bit anxious about whether my sweetheart had arrived safely in Guatemala. The last I'd heard was last evening about 8:30 our time, when Jonathan and the crew had arrived at Tapachula, Mexico, near the border, and had picked up some things at Home Depot and were then waiting on pizzas.

They had several hours of travel yet ahead of them. Jonathan texted me this picture of the van loaded with luggage!

I was so thankful for the ding of a text coming in late this morning, and it was this picture from Jonathan he had taken outside their motel room this morning. So I knew he'd arrived safely!

You can see how rough and rocky the narrow road is.

He also texted that there was a BIG story to tell later.

We waited all day to hear the story, and finally after the work day was over, Jonathan was back at the motel to clean up before heading to supper, and he had time to call me. 

Of all things, the owner of the motel they are staying in only arrived there recently, 

after working here in Colorado Springs as a chef!!!!
Now he owns this new motel.

Jonathan wants to get more acquainted with this owner. The motel is so new that it doesn't even have beds yet, or tables or chairs, just mattresses on the floor, but the guys are doing fine with that.

Jonathan told me about the trip last night. He said there were nine American guys and I don't think that included the Guatemalan driver, who had borrowed a van from a friend. It was a new van, 2018, but with 10 guys in it weighing an average of 200 lbs. each, it had a ton in it just with the guys, not counting all the luggage tied on top of the van, probably half a ton more.

Jonathan said to think of the road up Pikes Peak, only make it two or three times steeper and also narrower. All along the way, they would be going through village after village, 

every one of which had speed bumps.

The driver had to crawl over those bumps to keep from bottoming out with all the weight.

And then after climbing up to nearly 10,000 above sea level, they had to start going back down the mountain to their destination village which was about 8,500 feet.

Before long, despite driving in the lowest gear, the driver was having to ride the brakes, and the brake pedal was going nearly to the floor. The brakes were heating up and everyone could smell them. 

The driver pulled over at one spot and everyone climbed out while they waited half an hour for the brakes to cool. After 30 minutes, the brakes were still too hot, but the men got the bright idea

(must have been from the moonlight)

of just going ahead and walking down the road ahead of the van so there would not be so much weight inside.

That would have been okay if Jonathan had been wearing his work boots, but he was wearing his good Sunday cowboy boots, and he said the road was so steep that his feet kept sliding down into the toes of his boots, and he ended up with blisters, which is a big problem because he was really wanting to hike the volcano with the guys after their work project is finished.

You should have heard the children praying this evening after supper for God to heal their daddy's blisters in time to hike the volcano!

Once Jonathan placed his phone on the road to check his altimeter and see what the altitude was, and the road was so steep, his phone went sliding down!

Anyway, the guys were hiking down this steep and rocky road in the moonlight, setting off all the dogs to barking everywhere they went!

By the time the van caught up, they had walked nearly 30 minutes and when they arrived at the motel, the roosters were crowing!

It was probably 3:30 before they got to bed.

 Today, as the picture above shows, Jonathan was framing the steps to the church, ready for pouring concrete later. You can see his yellow measuring tape. Well, it was one he had to buy at Home Depot because his tape that he took along in his carry-on got taken away at the Mexican airport.  A measuring tape is considered a tool, and you aren't allowed tools in carryons.
So Jonathan had to purchase a new one at the Mexican Home Depot. The crew also had to purchase a ladder they needed.

Thanks to John Dykes for these last three pictures.

Below Dave Holderbaum is welding trusses. They got two whole trusses welded today and all the parts ready for the rest of the trusses as well. 

Jonathan said that HIM is helping this church with the foundation, concrete, walls, and roof, but the church will be on its own after that. 

One man who attends church does stucco, hard labor 8 hours a day, and earns $10 a day,

six days a week. 

That's only $60 a week, and Jonathan said that building materials down there cost more than here.

So you can imagine how hard life is down there. 

Prayers for the pastor, people, and Mission Helps crew are much appreciated. 

One of the men was on the floor in pain this morning from what everyone assumed was a kidney stone. That is not fun. 

I myself was hit with a UTI as soon as I got up this morning, and I've been doctoring myself all day with quarts of lemon water, tea and other liquids, and pain meds, and thankfully am doing okay by now. I wasn't drinking enough water, ate too many chocolates (I ate three Salted Caramel Chocolates yesterday) and was pretty stressed with withdrawal symptoms from my favorite man in the whole world.

Saying Goodbye to Jonathan

Last night we had to say goodbye to Jonathan for ten whole days, going on eleven, for his Mission Helps trip to Guatemala, but let's round it down to ten so it doesn't sound so long!

Our whole family went to Denver together with Jonathan to the hotel he had reserved Saturday on Priceline. He had to catch the airport shuttle by 4 a.m. this morning to catch his flight, so decided to reserve a hotel near the airport. I had planned to stay overnight with him but the snow changed that plan. We drove up to beat the snow, but it was already coming down as

we all went up with him to his room and admired how he had two whole queen beds to choose from just for himself!

I noticed his three sons milling around and asked for a picture of my man with his boys.

Specially that one that is taller than he is, and the one who is almost as tall, but not quite yet.

Then had to get a picture of him with his girls!

I had to say no to a myriad of thoughts about the dangers we'd heard and just enjoy the moments.

This is not the last goodbye (I hope.)

It's just the last one for ten days. (The Lord willing.)

"I will be back in a few days!" he whispered to me, knowing how my heart had been aching.

The pastor down there had been stoned twice and left for dead the last time it happened. 

The church is on the side of a volcano.

They said the road was four hours of very rough travel, and the town was up in the clouds, where little sun had shone through the trip Dave Holderbaum told us about.

There weren't really accommodations for a wife along, and the women were shy about American women invading their kitchens. 

I had decided I better stay home and finish raising our kids!!!

The crew has four hours of night travel from the airport at the border of Mexico to the town in Guatemala where the church is.  

But Saturday and Sunday Jonathan spent with his family.

Saturday he asked if I'd like to go with him on a few errands, and I did, driving home afterward so he could take care of business on his screen. It was a cherished time, just being with my husband for a few hours, having him reach across for my hand, trying not to think about the long ten days ahead without him.

Later that afternoon Jonathan had the boys help him collect tools that he needed to take along,

while I had Hannah help me collect hankies and socks and clothing articles.

 We try to intentionally include our children in our activities, because it's so easy to just want to shoo them out of the way, but if we shoo them, then down the road, they will not want to be around us.

We are busy, but that is all the more reason to include our children. 

One day one of them may want to walk in their father's shoes on Mission Helps trips if he includes and values them now and they remember Mission Helps trips as a project we do as a family.

Plus they really are a big help!

Sam was gone Friday night and Saturday morning, taking IV classes at the fire station.

 He came home with four red pokes in different spots on his arms. Each of the students had to practice on each other, poking the IV needles in! At home, Sam practiced taking blood pressure on one sibling or parent after another.

Then we had a lovely supper of enchiladas.

 Someone teased about it being the "Last Supper," and I had to tell my heart not to miss a beat.

In times like these, I struggle between whether to just keep extra busy and not think too many worried thoughts, or spend extra time on my knees surrendering my husband to God--whatever happens.

I did keep extra busy. Saturday and Sunday afternoon I finished putting together a notebook full of Spanish Sunday School choruses for children.

 I had bought two Spanish CD's at Mardels, and discovered that the words for the choruses on them were printed inside the cover!

But the print was so tiny, I thought I'd print them in large print on stiff colored paper, add pictures and put them inside plastic sleeves that would fit into a notebook,
 
and send the CD's and visuals down with Jonathan to hopefully help out some Sunday School teacher. I hope to expand on this idea down the road since we've traveled to many different Spanish missions, and take along other Spanish visuals, stories, songs, object lessons, or whatever
to help provide ideas and inspiration to Spanish children's workers.

The choruses were traditional ones like "The B-I-B-L-E," and "I Have the Joy, Joy, Joy."

or "Whisper a Prayer." Of course, sometimes the words are different in the Spanish translation. If anyone who reads this knows of where I could purchase Spanish materials such as song visuals or Spanish stories for Sunday School, let me know. Otherwise, I may set to work finding a few good stories that will work cross-culturally, and find someone to translate them for me so I can print them off and share them with Spanish Sunday School teachers.

This one was "I've Got a Home in Gloryland."

 The  many hours spent working on this project many afternoons or evenings helped me forget about  the long ten days ahead,

and made me feel like I could be part of this trip.

It's been a few years since Jonathan went alone on a trip. I've been blessed to be able to go with him several times, or even the whole family. Somehow those trips are the highlight of our lives.
Both Jonathan and I were called to missions and this is how we meet that call--
despite the roadblocks and the Satanic attacks.

 After Sunday dinner, we all played Bible Taboo before heading for a short rest.

Taboo is one of our favorite games.

And I will write more again later, but on our way to the hotel last night, I read aloud from my old diary I kept in Ukraine before I met Jonathan. I read from the wonderful days when, after four months of waiting, I finally received a letter back from the young man Jonathan who wrote to ask if we could write each other before meeting in the spring when he would be coming to Ukraine.

My diary was full of the loneliness and heartaches of those crazy days and months, with my coworkers courting happily right under my nose.

I spent many times going to my friends the Durfees where I could get away from the bleak  loneliness for a few hours and did not have to hide my feelings. My feelings were safe with them, and they loved me for who I was and included me in a lot of their activities. I felt like a different person with the Durfees. They are the ones who urged me to go ahead and give Jonathan a chance rather than waiting till we met like I thought we should. 

Because of their urging, I gave Jonathan a chance, and he reminded me on Valentines Day, that it was 25 years ago on Valentines Day that he called me for the very first time!

I opened my diary to that day and read it to the family, how after the phone call my coworker threw open her door and opened her arms and we hugged and laughed and hugged and laughed.

"Did I do okay?" I asked anxiously.

"You did great!" she said. 

And the sun started to rise in my dark world.

Even Carrie noticed as I read through the pages of my diary, how often I was crying. I was crying and crying and crying. Those were very, very difficult days, but day after day God gave me strength to do my studying and teach  my classes, and day after day someone was coming to me and hugging me and one little girl would come and say, "Are you sad? Don't be sad!" and give me a hug. My English students loved me, and the mothers loved me, and Tatyana, the lady who we lived with the first month loved  me. She would invite us to her place often and would ask me to play "Shepherd of Love" on the piano.

Or on my way to teach class, I would meet a friend and churchman on the sidewalk, father of two of my students, and he would reach out to shake my hand, and then, did he see the dark circles around my eyes?

Did he know I had been crying?
Arms in their furry coat would suddenly reach out with a wordless hug before he went on his way.I had just prayed for God's arms, and He sent them!

Or there would be a flock of sparrows. Or someone in need, and I could sort boxes of clothes for them. I was constantly making meals for my coworkers and sharing extra with friends and others even though it was all I could do to make myself want to eat.

I was constantly exhausted and crying.

Then Jonathan came finally to Kiev!

"Well, Anna," he told me after spending our second evening together running errands, taking a tool to a friend and then coming home to  my apartment where we visited a while,

"I just want to tell you that you are wonderful!"

And my lonely and dark world began to change. 

Me, the one with the haywire emotions, the exhausted body, the one with red spots all over my face at the time (I didn't know I was allergic to sunflower oil which was the oil we used there) the one who knew I wasn't very pretty,

and this handsome young man thought I was wonderful! 

He won my heart that first night, and he still has it.

Maybe this is why I have such a rough time when he goes on a Mission Helps trip and I have to stay home.

Subconsciously all of this is beneath the surface, and consciously, I don't know what I would ever do if something happened to my husband and friend, the one person in the whole world who continues to accept me just as I am, and who still holds out his arms to me.