Here’s a look back at March in pictures.















Beautiful reminders of God’s faithfulness and blessings.
*Photo credit: Rachel Roberts
Here’s a look back at March in pictures.















Beautiful reminders of God’s faithfulness and blessings.
*Photo credit: Rachel Roberts
Oh, Albel.
At the beginning of the school year, the mention of this kindergartner’s name brought some mild feelings of frustration rolling my direction. For me, Albel was not an easy kid to love. I didn’t feel like I had a “connection” with this lanky, big-eyed boy. He wouldn’t respond positively to me, and that bothered me. It didn’t help that he was always picking on other kids or disrespecting visitors in the classroom. I often found him getting under my skin as he talked over me during our whole group teaching times.
I can’t pinpoint any certain day or momentous event where things changed. The pace has been much more gradual with Albel. But slowly – ever so slowly – we’re seeing tiny glimpses of transformation in this little man’s behavior and in his desire for academic success. He listens more quickly when we correct him. He frequents the time-out corner less. He’s taken some serious pride in his writing notebook. Now he’s one of the first to finish copying his letters each day. While nothing will truly be changed for Albel until he’s walking with the Lord, outward signs of growth are being seen by the Freedom team.
You know, God’s been doing something in my own life as well. I’ve recently been reminded of a simple yet profound truth. God created Albel in His image. He is valued and loved. Whether or not I ever personally see Albel change, I have the opportunity to guide and direct him in my class this year. Whether or not I ever find that “connection” with Albel, I can do my part to help this boy understand how important he is in the Lord’s eyes and that He sent His own Son to rescue Albel’s little soul.



Thursday we celebrated Independence Day here in the Dominican Republic. Mery (my Dominican co-teacher) planned the activities for the kindergarten class. She’s getting ever closer to having her own group of kids next year.
The highlight of the day was the parade through Batey Lima. The kids were adorable in their little campesino and padres de la patria costumes. Several parents came out to watch as we marched through the streets of the village. It was fun learning a little more about this nation’s history and culture.







Something is missing in kindergarten – teeth! First, there was Yafreydi. (Katie wrote about the lost tooth experience here.) In January, Scarlette and Yorjeni joined the ranks of the toothless. When I came back from furlough, I noticed Beba’s big gap! The gummy grins are tiny signs that our kiddos are outwardly growing and changing. So thankful to be a part of their lives, missing teeth and all!



Sorry for the hiatus. We’ve been in the States for a short furlough. We’re enjoying our time sharing what God is doing in the Dominican, but we picked 2 crazy weeks to come back – the cold and snow have been a bit of a shock to our systems. Leyton does not enjoy putting on his coat to go outside, and his teeth start chattering after just seconds in the freezing weather.
Pray for us. We have several more meetings before flying back to the DR on February 11th. We’re looking for more people (particularly school-year interns) who are interested in being a part of God’s vision for the DR. It’s been amazing to watch Him provide in His perfect timing. The adventure continues!
This morning we said goodbye to the biggest team we’ve ever hosted here on the ground! We enjoyed doing life with 33 high schoolers and their chaperones this past week. Their days were full of leading VBS programs in Batey Piñones and Batey Cabeza de Toro, working on the land, and teaching small groups in the classrooms. Last night, the team members shared their thoughts on their time here and talked about what God’s been teaching them. The Freedom team is praying that this week wouldn’t just be a parenthesis in their lives but that they would use their time and experiences here to gain a bigger picture of the Lord.
Not only were the high school students impacted by their experience, but our students also benefited greatly. The individualized attention was huge. Sonia is so close to reading. Anllelo and Nicol and Alejandro didn’t get left in the dust – they had people by their side who desired to keep them focused and learning. Javier has been having a rough couple of weeks, but he responded positively to some guys on the team.
Overall, this week was another step toward seeing some serious change in the lives of our kiddos. Excited for the continued progress!
Today, I’m missing the beauty of the bateyes.
I could wax eloquent, but words don’t do it justice.
I could snap 100 photos, but the colors just aren’t the same.
Nature pointing to its Creator.
Beautiful. Just beautiful.
Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice; let the sea roar, and all that fills it;
let the field exult, and everything in it!
Psalm 96:11
Christmas was a little quieter this year. No big family gatherings. No giant spreads of food. No expensive gifts under the tree. It was a different kind of Christmas.
We battled with loneliness more this year than last. Thankfully, we were able to Skype with our parents and give a few virtual hugs. We loved our Christmas Eve visit from the Simos family with their scrumptious cookie delivery. (The cookies didn’t last more than 24 hours – oops.) We also spent some fun nights playing games with the Clines.
We didn’t have our typical turkey-and-potatoes Christmas dinner, but we did enjoy a yummy breakfast casserole for Christmas brunch. (New tradition in the making?)
The boys had a ton of fun opening up their little presents. Funny how the 75-cent bouncy balls and small cups of Playdough were their favorite gifts. They haven’t quit playing with them since Wednesday.
Overall, we loved the slower pace of the week – the time to breathe, love on our boys, and reflect on Christ’s great love for us.
Typical. Just typical. The power would go out on Christmas Eve. This is the one week we have to relax and just be a family.
The dangerous thoughts spread through my mind like poison as we sat there in the darkness.
So much for getting the boys to sleep. No fan to muffle the Christmas celebrations outside. And no blanket for Noah since the washer’s locked. This should be fun.
Leyton’s whimpering snapped me out of my selfish, gloomy reverie for a moment.
“Don’t cry, buddy – Daddy bought some new candles. We’ll be able to see in no time.”
Seriously. No electricity – tonight of all nights?! And right when I’m heating up dinner…
I listened as Scott fumbled in the drawer for the matches. And the guilt settled in.
C’mon, Ang. What a horrible attitude. You’re going to be mad about a simple power outage? This happens all the time. It’s Christmas Eve. Take advantage of these moments with your babies.
The match striking against the box brought me back from my raging, internal mind battle. A small light stabbed out into the night. I paused to stare at the tiny, flickering flame in front of me.
What verse have you been drilling into your kindergartners over the last month, Ang? Could you really have forgotten so quickly?
Then I almost heard the little batey voices shouting out in unison.
Luke 2:11. For unto you is born this day…
Scott lit another candle. Light radiated throughout the kitchen.
… in the city of David…
A third flame. More darkness obliterated.
… a Savior which is Christ the Lord.
Another shining candle. Each new light drowned out more of the shadows that had been lurking in the dining room – and in my heart.
The tea lights in the living room were glowing. I looked around at the bits of brightness that had collectively served to remedy my negative thoughts. My heart was humble and full. My eyes locked on my babies sitting patiently at the table.
“Wow, boys! Look at all the candles! Now we can see!”
“See!” Leyton repeated perfectly in his sweet, high-pitched voice.
“OK – sit tight! Dinner’s coming soon.”
My leftovers-in-the-microwave-for-dinner game plan changed to a new gas-stove strategy. As I continued preparing the food, I was left to my thoughts once again.
Lord, are you really trying to teach me this simple lesson? Surely I’ve learned it by now. I know Christmas isn’t about the turkey dinners and the lights and the perfectly planned parties and the presents. I know tonight isn’t about my Christmas Eve plans complete with electricity. Or… do I?
The candlelight danced across the oven backsplash as visions of a tiny Baby in a dingy, dirty manger waltzed through my mind. And I thanked my Savior anew for setting aside His throne, putting on flesh, and willingly laying down His life. For me.
There are telltale signs that come with taking on the jobs of teacher and mother simultaneously. Maybe you’ve seen some of them – the crazy eyes, the slew of half-empty coffee mugs littering the house, the cockeyed couch cushions, the trail of toys from bedroom to living room… Over the months, I’ve discovered a few more ways that you just know.
You know you’re a kindergarten teacher and mother to toddlers when…
Ground beef and gluesticks are the first two items on your shopping list. Why ground beef? Because your family’s been alternating between tacos and spaghetti for dinner the past few weeks. And the gluesticks? Because the colored Christmas trees and numbered gingerbread houses you’re using for math centers this week demand to be glued to their cardstock partners.
Your kitchen table consistently looks like it’s been hit by a paper/scissors/markers grenade and painfully sits without hope of recovery. Let’s be honest – you can’t really clean anything up. That glorious table is the only spot in the house that will hold all of the projects you’ve decided to start working on concurrently. At least the mayhem covers up your 22-month-old’s crayon art from last week. The only plausible solution to the fracas must be to buy a second kitchen table.

Your pet peeve is not being able to fill that last empty section of laminating sheet. The dilemma: laminate now, waste the space, but finish preparing for the next day? Or laminate later, risk ruining a few visual aids at school, but wait to find the piece of paper that will fit perfectly in that little area? OK, maybe this one can be filed under “You know you’re an OCD kindergarten teacher when…”
Your family Christmas tree is finally assembled several weeks late, and your new mantra to the smallest members of the household is, “DON’T TOUCH – JUST LOOK.” You’re also still deciding if the faint smell of burning electrical wires is something to be concerned about, or if you should just chalk it up to buying cheap-o Christmas lights.
Your heart swells with pride at the glimpses of learning and growth you catch in the middle of the hustle. It happens when your students get so excited about the circle they just drew that they incessantly shout your name from ALL the way across the room. And when you don’t come soon enough, they rocket out of their seats to shove their precious, dirty faces right in front of yours in their valiant attempts for a little recognition. It happens before bed when your three-year-old asks to read the Christmas story and tells you all about the baby Jesus. And it happens again when your kindergartners sit so still and hang on every word of that same, beautiful Christmas story.
You realize that life is hard as a mother-teacher. But you know that in the middle of the exhaustion and frustration, you wouldn’t give up the great privilege to care for these treasured ones. You’re still learning that it’s OK if things aren’t perfect – that you can concede the varied, aesthetically-pleasing meals and perfectly-placed Christmas ornaments if it means that God allows you to play a small part in the lives of these beloved children.