Enough

On By MitchenersIn Angela8 Comments

A dead soul coming to life after an encounter with a risen Savior. A Dominican and American finding a connection despite the language barrier. A child choosing to control his frustration instead of physically lashing out at a classmate.  How I love seeing God’s hand at work in the Dominican. Living here has given me more joy than I can express…

Today, however, is different. Today, I don’t have a cutesy story about a pre-schooler sharing a crayon or a miraculous example of a young boy accepting Christ. In reality, the past couple of weeks have brought some very real struggles for our family. I can’t point to one big moment where everything “fell apart.” Instead, we’ve been experiencing a thousand tiny frustrations that have slowly crawled under our skin. And we’ve been left scratching at those annoyances until the blood has started to flow.

I’d venture to say that the last 10ish days have been some of the hardest that Scott and I have endured since moving to the DR. We’ve dealt with feelings of failure, moments of miscommunication, battles with bitterness, and heaviness of heart. Some may call it homesickness. Others say it’s culture shock. Whatever the name, Satan has been using every strategy in his playbook to skew our perspectives, to keep us discouraged, to tempt us to listen to his lies. Talk about wrestling “against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” (Eph. 6:12, KJV)

A few nights ago, I felt like I had come to the end of myself. I didn’t know how to be there for my husband anymore. I didn’t know how to respond to some dashed plans we had made. I didn’t know how to take care of my babies who need me every waking hour.

But then I heard Him. Not so much audibly. Instead, God just whispered to my heart several times over a truth so simple – that He is enough.

Reminder #1 came resounding through Yuleisy’s computer speakers in the form of this song as we sat working in the office. Look at Me, He said. Quit focusing on these circumstances and worship Me for who I am. I am enough.

Reminder #2 came through an email from my dad: “This has been the strangest year of my life. But in all of the anxiety and doubts, I’ve learned things in ways I never had before. Over and over God keeps driving home this lesson: just place the little insufficient resources you have in His hands, and He will do His part. He has reasons. Always. Now is when faith is so important.” And so I heard Him again. I am enough.

Reminder #3 flooded over me as we traveled the bumpy, dusty roads in the early morning for another pre-school day. The landscape changes dramatically from our house to the bateyes – we roll through flat fields full of sugar cane, ride up and down a curvy mountain of sorts, drive over a calm yet dirty river, and cruise through a somewhat tropical, jungle area abounding with vines and forest trees. I heard the Voice again – the same Voice that spoke those words in Matthew 6 so many years ago: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them… See the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these…” Remember, child. I. am. enough.

I have to ask myself: do I really believe it? Do I really believe that God is big enough and good enough and loving enough to meet me where I’m at right now? In my head, I know that He is. He says so and proves so. But living that out in faith – that’s what I want.

A Shoe Shine

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“Shine ’em up real nice and I’ll pay you good.”

Scrawny, 9-year-old Moises reached into his backpack and slowly pulled out a rusty paint can, his brown and black shoe polishes, and some old buffing rags. I can’t imagine what was running through his little mind as Neal sat down on the stone bench and plopped a heavy boot up on the bucket for Moises to begin his work.

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“How long have you been at this today?” Neal curiously asked. “Since 7 o’clock,” Moises replied matter-of-factly.

It was late into the afternoon. People walked by, staring, smiling, even begging.

“How many customers have you had?” Without making eye contact, Moises answered quietly, “You’re my first one today.” He silently began cleaning Neal’s boots.

“Do you live with your parents?” was the next question. “No. With my grandma.”

Moises gingerly retied the shoe strings, added some polish, rubbed the color in with his index finger, and then buffed it all out.

Neal leaned forward. “You’re a hard worker, you know. I like that in a man. It’s important to work hard. You’re making a difference for your family in the right way. You’re not begging. And you’re not sitting back and just hoping things will work out.”

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Moises looked up. He gave the tiniest head nod in acknowledgement as he soaked in Neal’s words. Then he started working on the second boot.

Conversation drifted in and out. Neal told Moises about a work accident he’d endured years before. He’d cut off the tip of his thumb working hard on a job. Moises grimaced and shook his head. “You know what I’ve learned over the years, Moises? Never give up. Don’t ever quit doing the right thing, even if it’s hard to continue.”

A few minutes later, Moises gave Neal’s foot a pat as if to say he was finished. Neal inspected the boots. With a smile and a nod, he handed Moises his pesos and told him to keep up the good work. That little boy watched us as we walked back to our car, pulled away, and blended into the evening traffic.

What a small intersection in time. The gospel wasn’t given. Not in so many words. But a message full of wisdom and encouragement and love was passed from man to boy on the park sidewalk in the middle of San Pedro.

Maybe I’m being too optimistic or hopeful when I witness these simple moments. Maybe I romanticize the little things in life too often. But I can’t help but dream of the miraculous change that could take place in the life of Moises if God becomes the master of his ways.

Right now, Moises’s easel is his old, dented paint bucket. His paints are some cheap, colored shoe polishes. And his brushes are those old, cut-up rags he keeps in his little red bookbag.

Maybe one day, Moises will paint more than shoes.  Maybe someday, he’ll create gorgeous pictures for his customers – word pictures of God’s great love and mercy and grace and provision in his life. Maybe his conversation with Neal was a starting point. Or maybe some other Christ-follower will cross his path and show him the height and depth and richness of a Savior’s love.

I think that’s what I love so much about working with our little pre-schoolers. We don’t have to hope and pray for God to send us “shoe-shine” moments – although He still does. The amazing part is that we get to witness God transforming lives right before our very eyes. Every single day.

Click here to get involved!

January 2013

On By MitchenersIn Dominican Republic, FamilyLeave a comment

The first whirlwind month of 2013 has come and gone. We made a quick trip back to the States for a family wedding. It was so (cold but) wonderful to see our parents and siblings for a few short days, yet we are excited to be back on the ground gearing up for a busy year.

Tomorrow, Ang starts subbing for the 3’s in our pre-school while the Simos family is back on furlough. You can pray for her as she has the opportunity to interact on a deeper level with these impressionable little guys and gals for a couple of weeks.

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Tomorrow is also Scott’s last day of his very first VBS teaching in Batey Piñones. You can pray for him as he finishes up his sessions on Elijah and gets ready to start the same VBS in Batey Lima in a few weeks.

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In February, we’re continuing on with our building project – hoping to raise $20,000 this month alone! It seems like such a daunting task, but God is able. Pray with us as we construct a permanent place for our teachers to “set up shop” and for our students to continue learning and growing. Visit our website to learn more about owning a “share” in the education of one of our kiddos!

What’s Your Name?

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¿Cómo te llamas?  What’s your name?

I’ve probably asked kids that question the most since moving to the Dominican. When my Spanish vocabulary was minimal, it was an easy conversation starter. I’ve provided many a child with a case of the giggles while trying to pronounce the different-sounding syllables that make up their names.

After six months, my ear has become more accustomed to Spanish sounds and intonations. I still ask children about their names, and I’ve noticed something interesting – not every kid is called by his given name. It’s common for a child here to have an apodo, or nickname. For some parents living in the bateyes, a nickname is the difference between a normal life and a disastrous life for their kid. Some people believe that a child’s first name should be kept secret – apodos will hold witches and evil spirits at bay, hindering them from casting spells on the child. A nickname is chosen, often based on a person’s appearance or other identifying characteristic.

Simona and Chiqui

Several kids attending our pre-school are known by their nicknames. Not all of our students have apodos for superstitious or religious reasons, but we’ve had various instances where figuring out their real names has been an issue. One mother refused to tell Jason her son’s full name and birth date because she didn’t want anyone to hear her passing along the information.

It’s hard to imagine believing that the public announcement of one’s name could result in being cursed. I wonder if any of these kids grow up with the fear of speaking their real names aloud. I’m eager to see what a Christ-centered, bilingual education will do to change these kids’ view of themselves, their world, and the Creator who knew them before they ever had a name.

Asking these boys and girls about their names holds more weight for me now. I have a new goal when uttering my “¿Cómo te llamas?” question – to follow it with a prayer that God show these kiddos the identity that they can have in Him.

Faithful

On By MitchenersIn Angela, Dominican Republic3 Comments

The aguacatero still walks through our neighborhood every morning pushing his ramshackle cart of fresh produce and announcing, “Aguacates! Mandarinas! Manzanas de oro!” He has no idea that he’s calling out to one less person on our street.  He has no inkling that Federico passed from this world to another just 14 days ago.

It’s been two weeks. Two weeks filled with long and lonely hours for the family to process. To grieve. To figure out what “normal” looks like. To try to make sense of it all.  It’s been two weeks since a wife and a daughter and a sister had their entire world turned upside down in a moment.

It all happened so fast. Scott and I were working in the house, and Noah was playing in his room. Our neighbor called; she asked Scott to come quickly because Federico wasn’t doing well. Scott jogged across the street and into a small room to find a few people crowded around an unresponsive Federico. When Scott came back, he calmly and quickly pulled the car out into the street. They wanted to take Federico to the hospital – he’d possibly suffered a heart attack. I called for Pamela (our resident CPR/medical queen) and briefly explained what little we knew.  While she sprinted down the four flights of stairs and two blocks over to our house, I sat with Federico’s sister as she cried out for her brother. The men in the house carried him out to the street. Pam arrived and instructed them to get him flat so she could begin CPR. The men laid Federico in the back of our jeep, and Scott tried to wait for Pam to stabilize him. As Scott stepped out of the car to see if there was anything more he could do, a friend of the family jumped in the driver’s seat and zoomed down the street with the back door wide open, risking both Federico and Pam falling out! Kurt drove Scott to the hospital to find our vehicle.

Time slowed to a crawl. We brought Federico’s great-niece and nephew to our house to play with Noah while his sister rocked in the chair on her porch, crying and hoping for some good news. I watched as she received the phone call that he had passed. I could almost see the weight that she felt as she nearly fell to the ground in heartbreak. I went to her and held her hands as she repeated, “Angela, mi único hermanito! My only brother! My little brother!”

In that moment, I felt nothing but inadequacy. I wanted to do something to help. Say something to make it better. Carry some of the pain for her. Instead, all of the Spanish that I’ve learned over the last five months left me. As she cried in my arms, all I could say was “I know, I know.” At one point, I think I told her that we should pray, but no audible words ever left my lips.

Eventually, Federico’s wife and 16-year-old daughter returned from the hospital. My feelings of helplessness did nothing but grow. But I sat there with the daughter and hugged her and stroked her hair as she wept. As more family and friends arrived, I slipped out the gate and walked back to our house, praying silently that I hadn’t overstepped boundaries by being there – praying that God would bring them the peace and the strength and the comfort that no one on this earth can give.

Here we are, two weeks later. I don’t hear the crying as often. Friends and neighbors are gradually moving back to their normal routines.

The street vendor still petitions for people to buy the avocados and oranges he has to sell each morning. Life continues on.

I’ve been thinking recently about that bittersweet yet beautiful section in Ecclesiastes 3 that is often read at funerals.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die…

What a reminder that we are often subject to changes in life over which we have no control. I began flipping through the rest of Ecclesiastes, and I was struck once again by the simplicity and truth of Solomon’s closing words:

Now all has been heard; here is the conclusion of the matter: Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.

Revere God and remain faithful. That’s Solomon’s conclusion. The entirety of humanity – the whole duty of man – is centered on an unchanging and faithful God.

Federico’s wife and daughter came to see us last night. They tried to talk about normal, everyday things. And they tried to talk about Federico and their family. They tried to thank us – for what, I’m not sure. It didn’t matter what they said. I could see the sorrow that filled their faces as tears slowly spilled. They turned to leave, and we told them that Noah was praying for them every night before bed. We asked them to have dinner with us when they were ready.

What a testament these two ladies are to their Savior. In spite of the pain and the numbness and the questions, they are choosing to remain faithful to the Faithful One who is the constant in the midst of chaos.

Mud and a Sticker

On By MitchenersIn Angela1 Comment

I love being able to take part in our pre-school days – no matter if it’s helping a student with work, subbing for a teacher, or riding on the safari truck to and from Lima. Yesterday, our whole family made the trek out to the bateys. We didn’t help much in the classroom since we had our boys with us, but I had the opportunity to just “be”.

I exchanged a few words with wide-eyed Scarlette as she greeted me from across the room. I got my bear hug from smiling Reynabel as she waited patiently for the trash bag to come around during clean-up time. I snapped a picture of Alejandro meticulously drawing his trees and gluing his sun onto the craft page. I listened to the kids’ bubbly laughter as they watched Pam brushing Sammy’s teeth to show proper dental hygiene techniques.

But there was one moment that especially touched me yesterday morning. It was an exchange between two 4-year-olds that I don’t yet know well – Yefry and Yislena.

Since it had rained on Thursday, there were quite a few mud puddles and “dirt mines” around Lima come Friday. Each time the kids transitioned to another activity, the church had to be swept due to the mud deposits on the floor. During circle time, the children moved to their usual spot on the letter mat to listen to some stories featuring some angry ants and adorable puppies. The kids stared in amazement at the colorful pictures and listened in wonder to the strange-sounding English words streaming from Pam’s mouth. I was sitting near the back, helping students who got off-task; I’d quietly try to move their attention back to the story.

That’s when I saw Yefry and Yislena. They were hunched over, apparently talking or messing with something on the floor. I was getting ready to “shush” them and point them up to the ant army that was marching across apples and around aardvarks.  But instead, I paused and watched as a beautiful picture of friendship played out in front of me. Yislena had some mud caked on her ankle from the messiness of the day. And Yefry was leaned over, wiping it off with his bony little hand. After his attempt to clean off the mud, he saw that her leg was still dirty. He licked his skinny, muddy fingers so he could rub off the rest of the dirt. And then it was over. They both moved their attention back to the story and continued with the daily routine.

It was a simple thing. A moment that came and went quickly. Yislena didn’t hug Yefry or verbally thank him for his help. And Yefry didn’t seem to expect that from her. He saw a need and quietly took care of it.

As I was going through my photos later, I found one of Yefry and Yislena. Again, my heart was touched. I noticed something on Yislena’s shirt: a sticker! At first I was confused. She hadn’t answered a question in class in order to receive a prize. I looked more closely and realized that Yefry had again shown love to Yislena. The sticker that he had been given for answering a question correctly was ripped in half, one part on his shirt and the other half placed on hers.

Our pre-schoolers are slowly discovering what it looks like to learn, obey, and love others. What a joy to see love in action in the heart of a child.  A little mud and a ripped sticker were the mediums this time.  So excited to see the continued growth in these precious little boys and girls.

Hurricane Sandy

On By MitchenersIn Angela6 Comments

Hurricane Sandy left us a couple of presents today – a power outage and an almost flooded house.  Instead of completing the 50-million-bajillion tasks we were hoping to accomplish, Scott (and Kurt and Jason and Josh) spent the afternoon getting all of our furniture, electric wires, and whatnot off the floors.

Talk about a close call.  We were up to our shins in water in the carport and had centimeters to spare before water entered the house.  I took the boys over to the Hilgeman’s fourth floor apartment while the guys sawed up some boards to put in our doorways.  And then it stopped raining.  A little anti-climactic after all the hard work, but thankful that nothing crazy happened!  We spent the rest of the day mopping and cleaning and reorganizing the house.

Our carport and “front yard” underwater

End of our street

San Pedro after Hurricane Sandy’s rain

Noah doesn’t have a room to sleep in since his ceiling is leaking.  Seriously leaking.  We have no hot water and no washer/dryer since our breaker box exploded last night – half of the rooms don’t have electricity.  The growing pile of laundry, the giant stack of dishes, and the haphazardly-placed furniture in the middle of the floor will probably just have to stay until tomorrow.

In spite of the crazy day, we’re blessed.  Neighbors across the street were bailing water out of their house all day.  I’m so very thankful for my beautiful family and helpful missionary friends and kind neighbors.

Until the next “adventure”!

Fall in the Dominican

On By MitchenersIn Dominican Republic2 Comments

Here we are.  Experiencing our first autumn in our new home.  It’s hard to think about fall without apple cider and pumpkin carvings and laughter with extended family.

We’ve exchanged the rich hues of autumn leaves for miles of sugar cane. We’ve replaced cooler temperatures for muggy weather and power outages. We’ve traded time with friends for conversations with neighbors who don’t always understand our American way of life.

While there is nothing quite as exciting and satisfying as living where God has called us, we still miss the people and relationships (and even the changing of the seasons) that we’ve left behind.  But one thing that has eased this transition for us has been the kids.

The precious kids.  We have loved getting to know the little boys and girls in our pre-school along with their families who live in the four bateyes we are currently working in.

Case in point – Reina Belle.  When Ang first met her, Reina Belle could only be described as “feisty” and “strong-willed”.  She was openly defiant when asked to do something.  After some tough love and a few times in the Silla de Desobediencia (time-out chair), there has already been an amazing change in her attitude.  Every morning, she climbs up on the truck with a big, ornery smile to find “her” seat near the truck cab where the wind whips around in her face.  When Angela or Katie kneel down to talk to her, she generously lavishes them with kisses or tickles. She raises her hand often to be called on as the ayudante in class. Reina Belle loves to have help writing her name at the top of papers.  She does not want us to write her name for her – instead she makes Ang wrap a big hand around her little one, guiding her pencil as they say each letter together. While she is still the “feisty” Reina Belle, we have come to love the “smart” and “fun-loving” and “teachable” parts of Reina Belle too!

Then there is adorable Yohan.  This three-year-old’s squishy, dimpled smile is completely contagious. His laughter can be heard across the truck as we travel to Lima for fun-filled days of learning – sounds that are far cries from his first week of school. At the beginning of the year, Josh spent a good deal of time outside the classroom with Yohan as he struggled to “learn the ropes” of Toni’s class. Now he is mastering his reds and blues and 123’s, all from some teachers who understand the life-change a quality education can bring. Even more importantly, he’s already learning about the God who created his beautiful little smile and infectious laugh. It is exciting to think about the opportunities Yohan could have after twelve (plus) years in our school.

Chiquito is another new four-year-old who is still getting used to the classroom setting.  While he is slowly coming out of his shell, he doesn’t smile often or raise his hand to be called on.  One day when Angela asked for an ayudante, she decided to look past the sea of waving hands and picked Chiquito to be her helper.  There are no words to describe the joy that filled Chiquito’s countenance as he realized it was “his turn”.  A giant, sheepish smile enveloped his entire face as he slowly walked to the front of the room.  (Ironically, he missed the answer to the question because he was so excited to be the ayudante.)  Now, he yearns for his teachers’ approval on his worksheets as he practices his letters and numbers. What a difference a bit of love and recognition brings into the life of a boy like Chiquito!

There are more stories, more kids, and more families.  And here we are on this tiny tropical island, overlapping a bit of our lives with theirs.

It is absolutely breathtaking to watch the seasons slowly change from one to another, and we miss seeing those transformations take place.  But we are relishing in the fact that God is gently changing little lives from the inside-out. We love seeing these miracles in action!

P.S.  The three children above (as well as several others) are not yet sponsored financially.  With a $50 monthly gift, the lives of these boys and girls can continue to be changed!

Proud to be an American?

On By MitchenersIn AngelaLeave a comment

I consider myself a fairly patriotic person.  I love my home country – really.  I like celebrating the 4th with friends and family. I vote.  I enjoy traveling to Washington, D.C., to learn about our nation’s history.  I am grateful for the men and women who lay down their lives for their fellow countrymen.  You could say that I’m proud to be an American.

For the most part.

Since moving to the Dominican, I have realized there are some American characteristics I possess that I’m not so proud of.

My sense of entitlement.  My desire for more material things.  My tendency toward selfishness.

Looking back over the few years that I’ve been an independent, self-functioning human being, I see how I’ve tried to jam-pack my life with “stuff”.  I remember growing up, never being satisfied with what I had.  All I needed was a little bit more.

I bought clothes.  Lots of clothes.  If I didn’t eat out a couple times a week, I thought I was missing out.  I drank $4 frappuccinos on a weekly basis. Having a new pair of $75 tennis shoes each fall for high school, whether or not my last pair was still wearable, was an obvious “must.”  I needed my expensive shampoos and purses and perfumes.  I even pouted if I couldn’t buy certain brands of school supplies!

I know that drinking coffee or buying a new shirt or eating at McDonald’s is not wrong.  But when the pursuit of those things takes precedence in my life above all else, that’s when it gets a little dicey.

Obviously, Americans are not the only materialistic ones on the planet.  I can’t blame my selfish desires solely on living in “the land of the free and the home of the brave.”  But I will say this.  My culture’s tendency to want more, to live the American dream, to keep up with the Joneses… that surely hasn’t helped me to look outside myself for ways to make God famous.

I don’t really have a grand conclusion here.  Renouncing my American roots won’t cause me to struggle less with feelings of deservedness. I still hear lies like, “You’ve given up so much to move to the DR.  You’re really suffering for Jesus down there.  You deserve this or that.”  I don’t think moving to a foreign country has made me any less susceptible to these feelings of entitlement – I just recognize them more.  When we’re back in the States on furloughs, I’ll probably struggle with feelings of “what could’ve been”.  I know Christ is all I need, and truly living that out is my goal.

I’ll end with this – whether American, Dominican, African, or Asian…

“God is most glorified in me when I am most satisfied in Him.”
(John Piper)

Perspective: “Looking unto Jesus…”

On By MitchenersIn Angela5 Comments

Wow.  Today marks one whole month of living in the Dominican Republic.  That went quickly.

Most people who know us would agree that Scott and I are fairly laid-back individuals.  But even with our happy-go-lucky personalities, the last few weeks of moving in and setting up and getting accustomed to the culture have not been all fun and games.  There have been enjoyable and exciting moments (like getting to know our neighbors and turning our house into a home).  But unfortunately, it has been easy for me to focus on little things to the point of frustration (like not being able to ask for something at the store or having to change my clothes multiple times a day because of my propensity to sweat buckets in the heat/humidity).  If I’m not careful, I find myself selfishly dwelling on the comforts and ease of living that I’ve left behind.  Then feelings of guilt creep in… and then depression… and a not-very-good cycle begins.

When I find that I’m getting frustrated with these little things, I ask myself some questions.  Why are we here?  Why are we living in a foreign culture, giving up the things and people and places that are familiar?  You know, it’s funny – when I honestly answer these questions, my perspective changes almost immediately and the frustrations of the moment seem to melt away.  There are many reasons we’ve decided to do life here, but the big (and simple) answer is this – we just want to make our Jesus famous.  I know I don’t have much to give Him, but what I do have is available for Him to use whenever and however He wants.  If that means a few adjustments to my lifestyle, then by His strength I’ll make those adaptations wholeheartedly.

“Looking UP.”  That’s how my college class advisor always signed off on his e-mails.  I remember the day I internalized that phrase. I was sitting in my dorm room at Cedarville, staring at those two words on my computer screen.  What would my life be if I were “looking up” at every moment?  My answer not only caused me to change some of my attitudes and actions in college, but it also played a role in why I am here in the DR.  This past month, I have been learning more fully what it means to change my perspective from me to Him.

Whew.  All of that to say this: running my race is so much easier when I’m looking up (Hebrews 12:1-2).