We recently have hosted several weeks of guests from out of country, which always reminds me how different my life is. I forget that it is different. I’m just used to it now. I forget about the things that I don’t have here, or the things that we do differently, or the ways that we do things. They are just ‘normal’ to me now, but I’m always reminded of how different they really are when we have USA guests. So, I thought I would share a few:
We don’t have an oven. That’s right. We don’t have an oven. We have a table-top toaster oven thing that sits on the counter in the corner. It’s big enough to put a 12” pizza in, or a 9x13 pan, barely. It’s kind of a glorified Easy Bake Oven. I think Barbie might have had one in her Barbie townhome (I just showed my age). It’s unpredictable and cranky. Sometimes a cake takes 1 hour to bake, and sometimes it is burned within 20 minutes. Cooking in it is something like babysitting a toddler… don’t leave it alone for a second! In reference to the above issue… anyone remember the fact that we hosted overnight guests in our home 156 nights last year? Anyone remember that I bake at least two or three cakes or sweet breads a week for bible studies and disciple meetings? Yep… yippie for the Incredible Tiny Wonder Oven! We don’t have a dryer. Nope. No dryer. We have clotheslines. That makes us dependent upon God and The Weather Channel and the Sahara winds for dry clothes. My own personal nightmare is a week of rain when I have a houseful of guests with sheets and towels and dirty clothes. We do have a washing machine. It is in the kitchen by the sink. I don’t know why that is always a funny thing to everyone who comes to visit, but it is. Where a dishwasher would be in the States, we have a washing machine. It takes at least 30 minutes to do a load, and that’s the super quicky mode for clothes that haven’t actually seen dirt in their entire lives. A real load takes 59 minutes, minimum. (Why 59 minutes? I don’t know. I would have rounded up that number, if I were a washing machine engineer.) Foods that don’t exist – at least not unless you make them from scratch: We do not have all the canned goods available to us that are in the USA. That means no cream of mushroom soup and about a gazillion other things. We don’t have a lot of processed foods or pre-mixed foods. Now, this is actually a good thing, because it means that we have little access to a lot of processed stuff and things that are not so healthy. But, it also means that all of those recipes from Mom or grandmothers that call for a can of mushroom soup… those don’t happen without a little thought and preparation. So, thank goodness for the Internet and Pinterest!!! I can usually find out how to make things from scratch without too much trouble.
Air conditioning / heat… debatable as to whether we have it or not. Yes, there is a small air unit in our living room (like those in a motel room under the window). However, it does not work near as good as those hotel ones! And there is only the one, for the whole house. It won’t even cool off the living room, much less the kitchen and bedrooms! And, electricity is really expensive, so it costs a lot to run an air unit that isn’t really doing much. Luckily, we have high ceilings and big windows and we live in the country where we can almost always catch a breeze. But, July and August and September are brutal. Over 100F every day with no air conditioning. Do you know why Spain is big on the siesta??? Because it’s too dang hot to do anything else at mid-day! You just lie real still in front of a window and pray for a slight breeze. Last year, we had some USA visitors in July. I think they thought that they might die of heat stroke. Then they went on to find out that MOST of EUROPE does not have air conditioning. (Right now, go kiss your thermostat in your central air / heat home and give God a little shout out thank you that you live in a place of luxury!!! ‘Cuz the rest of the world is NOT living life at a perfect temperature!) Heat is almost the same story. We have a cast iron wood burning fireplace in the corner of the main room. That's the heat for the house, unless you count the little brasero heater that goes under the table to heat frozen toes. In the winter, we get down to freezing every night, with frost or ice every morning. The fireplace burns pretty much non-stop in the winter months, except at night. At night, we dress in our finest polar fleece lingerie and curl up under three layers of blankets and down comforters. We never have visitors in the winter! (Again… never take your heater for granted! Send your HVAC man a card of gratitude TODAY!!!) Other things we don’t have… closets, a bathtub, a dishwasher, coconut oil, sloppy joes, cool whip, cute little craft supplies, awesome office supply stores, lovely bookstores with coffee shops and real live books, fast food, etc. I can’t lie… some of those things are just luxury items to me now. Oh, how I dream of the date nights Billy and I used to spend at Barnes & Nobel, drinking coffee and perusing the aisles of books and magazines. Oh how I have longed for a Chic-fil-a drive thru on those days when I’m dog-tired and have zero ideas for what to cook. Oh how my thoughts dance at the idea of a Michael’s or a Hobby Lobby or an Office Depot. And the thought of sitting in a real tub taking a real bath, complete with bubbles and a real book… surely that will exist in heaven! Yes, our life is different. I truly forget that it is so different. I really am just used to it, now. I don’t think about these things until visitors come – really, I don’t. But as soon as they walk in the kitchen and say, “Um, hey… is that a washing machine by your sink?”, then I remember – that’s not normal back home. Last week, some visitors brought me a book as a hostess gift… a REAL book, with paper pages, in English! Or last month when my best friend and my mom both sent me recipes for some great new dish, and I realized that half the ingredients are not available. That’s when I think about it. But I wouldn’t trade my life here. Nor would I have traded my life in rural Peru. It’s home to me now. I’m proud to know how to make so many things from scratch. I’m okay with being a little inconvenienced some times. My life here comes at a price, yes. I have fewer modern conveniences. I have fewer items available to me that are fast and easy. Yet, I also have things in my life that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I have the best farmer neighbors I could ever ask for (I had great farmer neighbors in Peru, too.) I have a pretty simple life. I have good friends who choose to sit for hours over conversation and coffee, or who will choose a long walk together over watching TV or chatting on Facebook. I live a life that is centered on relationships and ‘living life together’, not on schedules and to-do lists and efficiency. It’s beautiful, and I love it. Give me a few less modern conveniences any day! Okay… well, maybe I would really love to have a real oven. ;) Billy sings in a gospel choir in Spain! Our town has a municipal music school and offers this choir as a class and performance group. This has proven to be a fun activity for Billy (he misses the days of singing with his buddies in the choir in Navasota).
It has also proven to be a great opportunity to share about Christ. The choir sings gospel songs in English. The choir is made up of Spaniards. So, as a native English speaker, Billy helps teach pronunciation, as well as translating the lyrics so everyone can understand what they are singing. On many occasions, the gospel message has been heard and received in choir as a new word to listening ears! Most of the choir members are not believers or are unchurched. Some are Catholic by birth, but do not associate with any congregation. This has been a fun way to build relationships within the community and to share his faith in a natural and non-threatening way. atrophy verb
1. (of body tissue or an organ) waste away, especially as a result of the degeneration of cells, or injury "the calf muscles will atrophy" synonyms: waste away, waste, become emaciated, wither, shrivel, shrivel up, shrink, become shrunken, dry up, decay, wilt; 2. gradual decline in effectiveness or vigor due to underuse or neglect. synonyms: peter out, taper off, tail off, dwindle, deteriorate, decline, wane, fade, fade away, fade out, give in, give up, give way, crumble, disintegrate, collapse, slump, go downhill, draw to a close, subside noun the process of atrophying or state of having atrophied. synonyms: wasting, wasting away, emaciation, withering, shriveling, shriveling up, shrinking, drying up, wilting, decaying, decay; I remember back to several years ago. I remember the fear that I had when my leg was not responding. I had a long-troubling back issue that became a major problem when I sneezed. Okay – no jokes here… it’s true, a sneeze caused me to rupture a disc in my back and sent me in to severe pain. It was a pain like no other, like fire was searing my whole body. In the emergency room, they gave me the maximum amount of morphine they could give me, and I continued to feel like I was on fire. The problem was a nerve that had been compromised in the injury. When I was seen by my doctor and referred for surgery, my leg was already not responding. The signals to the nerve in my leg had been blocked and I could not make my calf respond. I had surgery a couple of weeks later to deal with the disc, but the damage was already done to my calf. In such a short period of time, the muscle had begun to atrophy – lack of use and lack of nerve signals had already caused it to begin the process of decline, of shutting down and giving up. It took time, many months, but once my back was repaired and I began to work on using the leg again, I slowly regained what was lost. I was reminded of this scenario recently when I heard a Spanish pastor discussing atrophy with regard to our faith... “For a while" is a phrase whose length can't be measured. At least by the person who's waiting.
― Haruki Murakami Our involvement with refugees is at a standstill right now, sadly. It is painful to be in a state of waiting. In October, we were asked by the local government - via the NGO we work with - to be on-call to work with 200 refugee families who would be resettled in our town of Antequera, Spain. In Spain, no one has access to refugees except through invitation of officials and that only occurs via an officially recognized NGO. We are fortunate that Billy sits on the board of a local NGO and, therefore, was able to be poised to help. They would be a handful of the 15,000+ who were to be resettled in Spain by the end of December. As of today, that still has not occurred. New vetting procedures were implemented which all but halted the resettlement process. The backlog of refugees and asylum seekers vying for resettlement in Europe astounding, and Spain has only agreed to take a few. In January, we were told to continue to stand on-call and we would be notified when resettlement occurred. Still... nothing today and we are well into March. “Waiting on God requires the willingness to bear uncertainty, to carry within oneself the unanswered question, lifting the heart to God about it whenever it intrudes upon one's thoughts.” ― Elisabeth Elliot The sad truth of the matter is that Spain was extremely hesitant to take refugees in the first place. The government all but refused. However, that was a very unpopular stance with the public and petitions and public uprising caused the government to change their decision and agree to accept 15,000 refugees. That being said, Amnesty International just put Spain on their list of worst countries for human rights infractions... partially because of the government's poor treatment of immigrants and refugees over the past year. Spain has seen their share of immigrants and refugees, for sure. But these do not come to us via legal channels. Not unlike our home state of Texas, Spain is the southern-most border of European nations. We are a country of first entry. Most immigrants and refugees cross the Mediterranean from Morocco, coming up to us from West African nations, or crossing to us from Syria and Middle Eastern countries by crossing North Africa and coming up across the tiny 8 mile stretch of sea at The Strait of Gibraltar. The Spanish population as a whole is very considerate of and compassionate toward the current plight of refugees. They remember that they, too, were once refugees fleeing a horrible civil war and a terrible dictator in the 1930s and 40s... a cruel dictatorship that lasted until 1978. The refugee cause is not far removed from the Spanish population. I have seen family photos of local families as they were fleeing Spain and heading for France and Morocco. We recently met a woman who was a baby when her family fled to Morocco, chased by the dictator's army. Her father had a price on his head. He was one of the original writers of the Spanish constitution in the early 1930s and this made him a dangerous political figure. They fled to Morocco, then crossed the Atlantic by ship to Mexico, where she lived most of her life. So, she has lived her entire life as a refugee from Spain. The refugee situation is close to the hearts of Spanish population, to say the least. I have talked with many who say, “We were cared for. We were taken in. We must return this kindness to humanity.” However, current Spanish government has had their own ideas. “One of the greatest strains in life is the strain of waiting for God.” ― Oswald Chambers We are sad that the current situation is that we are still in a holding pattern. There are currently talks between EU countries may change some things, but we fear not for the better. It now appears that instead of resettling refugees in Spain and other EU countries, those countries have decided to attempt to pay other countries to take their share of refugees off their hands. Sadly, the ‘least of these’ have become bargaining chips. It appears that these precious lives are worth about 3 billion Euros... that is what they want to pay Turkey in order for them to not allow refugees out of Turkey and into other EU countries. This makes me so sad. People are trying to be creative and figure out ways around the situation. Just this week, NGOs and private entities have made inroads in what appears to be a way to skip the government backlog and contract to bring numbers of refugees directly in to municipalities in Spain that wish to take refugees now and are prepared with infrastructure and resources. Tired of red tape, they are taking the situation in to their own hands. I wish I could write about how we are currently ministering to refugees in Antequera. Instead, we continue wait. We are ready to help. We pray for solutions. I'm sure that God's heart is sad, too. Scripture has so much to say about this situation. It is difficult to know that people – children of God – people whom God loves and adores - are standing at the door knocking and we cannot open the door. People are in need, people are ready to help, yet our hands are tied with red tape. Patience is power. Patience is not an absence of action; rather it is "timing" it waits on the right time to act, for the right principles and in the right way. ― Fulton J. Sheen ** Please note that this situation changes daily. Two days ago, the situation with the Spanish parliment and their vote in the EU discussions was completely 180 degree difference from what is is today in the latest news. By the time you read this, it could be different still. Antonio* was the first friend we had when we moved to Antequera. We had met a couple of other people in those first few days, but Antonio was the guy who just enveloped us in happiness and hugs. He embraced us, quite literally with his giant bear hugs, and with his easy and quick friendship. We had been told, “Spaniards are a tough lot. You’ll never get close to them. You might become friendly acquaintances, but never true friends.” But we were having a tough time believing that with Antonio in our lives.
Antonio is this big teddy bear of a guy, a walking talking Santa Claus-type. Always smiling and joking around. Best friend to the world. Billy quickly fell right in with Antonio. They met several times a week for coffee or to do things in town. Antonio invited Billy in to his home (another thing we were told would never occur in Spain) to share stories and to help each other with language. Antonio became Billy’s language helper for Spanish, and Billy helped Antonio learn some English. Antonio has been a huge help to us in cultural matters – he is a trusted friend who will always tell us the truth, always tell us when we might be stepping in too deep, or alert us to cultural landmines that we could never have known without guidance. He introduces us to people, he invites us to picnics and cookouts, and he helps us get connected to opportunities to serve in our town. In our disciple group, Antonio is very attentive to the stories about Jesus’ treatment of the marginalized. He is highly participatory in our story discussions when it comes to lepers and the unclean and the unjust treatment of others. I have always been touched by his keen sense of understanding and compassion, and I have loved him for his tender heart during these studies. One week, as we studied another story about the unclean, specifically as it pertained to death, Antonio reminded the group of the modern day treatment in Spain of undertakers. Because our class is almost exclusively native Spaniards, this story was commonplace for them. They all knowingly shook their heads like it was just another story. But for me, it was new knowledge that rocked my world. Undertakers or morticians are considered unclean, still in this day and age. Those who deal with death are marginalized. When the undertaker goes in to a restaurant or café, there is a specific place for him to sit. He has a special set of dishes that are set aside for only his use. Because this is a small town, everyone knows the undertaker. When he arrives, he knows where to sit and the staff know to go and get the dishes that are reserved for only him. Even his glass and his silverware is set apart from the general public. This is 2016! This is a European nation, a ‘first world’ country! This was a huge shock to me. I kept my ‘learner face’ on and stayed in my cultural anthropological stance, but I was just dying inside. How could this be true today, in 2016? This is the kind of treatment that I know happens in developing nations and ‘3rd world countries’… but this is SPAIN! I worried on this story for a few weeks. I just couldn’t get over it. And my heart broke for Antonio… you see, my friend Antonio is an undertaker. For years, he has been the one who arrives at the hospital or at private homes to pick up the deceased and care for the body. He has been the one who has compassion in the darkest moments. He has been the one who goes to the funeral home, who does all that needs to be done in those hours between death and burial, and who sees to the final moments before loved ones say their last goodbyes. It is a tough job on even the best of days. Sadly, Antonio has been out of work since just before we moved here - a downsizing of funeral home staff in the middle of a major economic crisis put Antonio on the unemployment rolls, where he has been for 3 years now. It seems that it’s also difficult for a former undertaker to find a new job. Antonio never talks about that. He just continues to look for work. This past week, I asked Antonio if he would revisit that story with me – the story about the dishes and the marginalization of undertakers. Although he had not told the story in first person, I wondered. I asked him if that had applied to him, if he had lived that reality. “Yes. Yes, that story is my story,” he said. “That is the reality for undertakers.” A new wave of pain and compassion came over me. This is my friend, we are talking about. This is a part of his story that had never dawned on me. I could never have known to ask about it because it is so far from my culture and understanding that I would never have thought of it. I pushed on, “Antonio, what does that do to your heart?” A deep breath, then he softened and his body changed. He smiled a little, the smile of realizing that someone just saw through to your soul. He answered, “You have to make your heart hard. Hard so it won’t hurt.” His eyes brimmed with tears. “Obviously, it hurts, Antonio. Your heart is not hard.” “Yes, sometimes it hurts. People make jokes about me, off-handed things that are funny to them. Even friends tell jokes about me. I laugh and try to let it roll off. I try. But my wife – it is terrible for her. It hurts her deeply. She has never recovered from hearing people’s jokes and how people treat me.” Antonio’s wife has suffered years of debilitating clinical depression. Many days, she cannot leave the house. Antonio, too, suffers from depression and several related health issues. I’m seeing a much bigger picture of my friend and his heart. He goes on to tell me about other indignities of being the undertaker. Gas station attendants refused to wait on him or pump the gas at the full service pumps. They wouldn’t go near the hearse. The public shunned him and turned away when he was with the car. Even the dead merit more dignity than the living, breathing man who attends to them. My heart is so heavy for my friend. Jovial, peaceful, compassionate Antonio. To know the pain that he has felt, that he still feels. To now understand, to be able to see the mask that he wears with the world. To know that this precious man has been marginalized. Now I know why he is passionate about the Jesus who reached out to the unclean, the Jesus who touched lepers and had compassion for those who were shunned and cast out. Antonio is intimately and passionately in love with the Jesus who entered in to death, who had compassion for Lazarus, who touched the dead, who Himself was dead and experienced the tomb… and is now Alive. I’m honored to call the undertaker my friend. *Antonio’s name has been changed. Tychicus. Aren’t you glad you didn’t have his name growing up?! No one would ever pronounce it correctly, nor spell it right on any Starbucks cup. Tychicus (tik-i-kus) is one of those Bible characters who isn’t well known, who most people have never paid any attention to, and who doesn’t receive the accolades or the love. There aren’t any Bible studies about him, no Beth Moore or Priscilla Shirer books or videos. Tychicus is only mentioned a handful of times in the New Testament, but the ministry he provided was enormously important.
Tychicus’ ministry included: This information has been updated. The original trip scheduled for April 2016 has been CHANGED to April 2017. Several interested people contacted us and requested a change to allow more time for planning and training. Since there were no confirmations or deposits paid for April 2016, we have agreed to run this trip in 2017. Be forewarned -- there are already SEVERAL who have verbally expressed interest in the 2017 date! If you want in, you need to contact us ASAP to reserve your spot. We’re breaking the mold for mission trips! No building projects, no vacation bible school, no feeding programs or street evangelism. No painting. No hammers. No crafts. No sleeping under a mosquito net or corralling chickens. It’s all changing and YOU can be a part of it… You’re invited! Come to Spain for a different mission experience. Come learn about Spain. Learn about her history and her culture. Learn about how that history impacts the current state of religion, beliefs, and the church. See and experience what is going on today through different ministries and outreaches. “What will we do?” Come prepared to learn. During your time in Spain, you will visit several very important historical sights. Expect to learn a lot of history and see so many historical sites that your camera card won’t hold enough images and your brain will be on overload. Visit Roman ruins, Moorish palaces, castles of kings and queens, unique historic synagogues, a famous mosque, and incredible cathedrals...all of these have a special significance in the religious history and current religious climate in Spain. We will visit Sevilla, Cordoba, and Granada, as well as many pueblos and lesser-known historical sites. We will visit local church congregations, as well. Come prepared to listen. You will also meet local believers and pastors and have special times to interact with them. You will have an opportunity to listen to their stories of what it means to be a believer in Spain, to hear about the history of the protestant church in Southern Spain - a history that is VERY young and fresh on the minds of the people who actually MADE history here (and continue to make it each day). Come prepared to encourage local pastors and ministry workers. Come prepared to pray for Spain and the local church. Come prepared to share. We will have a special time of discussion each day, with a focus and emphasis on sharing what you are learning about Spain, how you see God moving in Spain, and how we can help the Church in the USA to learn more about that Kingdom movement. Each person on this trip comes with special gifts and talents. Come prepared to share and be creative and to help us communicate what is “Spain” back to the North American church. “So, what’s the mission?” To learn, to listen, to encourage, to pray, and to share… that’s the mission while you are in Spain. But then you will go back home…then the real mission begins! The real mission is to take what you learn, take what you hear, take the stories and the history and the sights – take them back and share it with others. Share the vision of Spain. Share the struggles. Share the prayer needs and concerns of the people. Share your photos and your video and your love for Spain… because when you finish this trip, you are going to be in LOVE with Spain and have a passion to join God in His Kingdom work here!!! Help others fall in love with Spain, too. That’s your mission. To share God’s heart for His people in Spain. When: April 2017 - arrive in Spain on Monday, April 17 and depart p.m. on Sunday the 23rd or early a.m. 24th. (at this time, dates are still flexible) For more information or to sign up for this awesome opportunity, contact Laurie & Billy Drum: [email protected] or call 979-985-5238 Cost: $1000 + airfare (cost includes lodging, meals, ground transportation, and entrance fees) Trip limited to 10 participants. "So, what exactly do you do over there? I get that you are missionaries, but what does your work look like?" We get this question all the time when we are back home in the States. We serve in several roles in ministry, and each of those holds a variety of ways that we work and serve others. Our roles as Care Coordinators for Europe and the Middle East / Balkans and as local Cross-Cultural Workers to Spain include coaching and counseling, teaching and mentoring, leading and equipping—and a LOT of loving others! This column will be dedicated to sharing parts of that work with you each month. One of the ways we minister in Spain is via a ministry of hospitality. Hospitality comes from the root word ‘hospital’. But does hospital mean what you think of it in modern terms? Not really. Hospital originally meant guest house. It also meant a place of shelter or a place of care. Hospitalize meant ‘to receive, to care for, to entertain and lodge’. In many ways, that is what we try to be. We are a place of care. We receive and lodge many throughout the year… in fact, last year, we had 159 nights of overnight guests in our home (not counting my mom who stayed for 6+ weeks). That’s 159 dinners and lunches and breakfasts. But so much more than that! It’s 159 nights of caring for others, of listening and long talks, of laughing and crying with others, of hearing stories of pain and stories of success. These guests range from visitors from the USA who are here to learn about Spain and the ministry here, to leaders from our agency here to visit with us and have meetings, to people who come to serve with us for a short period, to other missionaries who come in need of a rest and a respite and to receive counseling or coaching or mentoring. All come at various stages and needs—some come just to visit and share time and encouragement, while others come in a state of brokenness or exhaustion and in need of some special love and care. These overnight guests are over and above the local work we do… this doesn’t count the every day / every week hospitality and care. I think I made at least 50 banana breads and coffee cakes, zucchini sweet breads and bread puddings last year. Actually, I know for a fact that it is more than that… all for our weekly Café Con Jesus adult bible study group, the youth group at church, and my women’s coffee group in Campillos. That doesn’t count the breakfasts that we hosted for the bible study group that meets each Thursday, or the cookouts and barbeques we hosted on our patio for the church and for friends. Most of those groups revolve around a bible study time. But is it necessary to bake and cook and host dinners? In our opinion, yes. It is part of a ministry of hospitality. It’s part of a ministry of care and loving others well, a ministry of listening and spending time with others… time that is precious and necessary to building deep relationships and truly knowing each other’s stories. So, if loving my neighbor well means whipping up a cinnamon cake and putting on another pot of coffee, then that’s what we will do. If it means sitting around the table till the wee hours of the morning listening to the tough stuff that my friend is going through, holding a hand or wiping a few tears… that’s part of hospitality. We are a place of care. We are a guest house. We are a place of shelter, a place where people feel received, where people are entertained and well fed. Mostly, we are a place where people are well loved, regardless of nationality or social status or religion. Be they Spaniard or Nicaraguan or Brazilian. Be they missionaries serving in Asia or the Middle East or Africa or Europe. Be they local pastors or farmers or students. They are welcome in our home. We’ll put on another pot of coffee and set the table and settle in for the evening, together. This has been a year of confrontation for me. Let me clarify that… I had to confront ME, and that’s never pretty. Actually, I’ve spent the past two years going down this path, I just didn’t recognize it happening until I was in the midst of The Camino de Santiago in June.
During the Camino, I started to come to grips with a big issue in my life: My expectations are out of whack. To be more exact, my expectations of myself and how I live my life are unreasonable and it’s killing me. It’s funny, because my focus words (I don’t do new year’s resolutions, I do focus words for study and reflection) my focus words for last year were Peace and Joy – both are pretty much impossible to attain if all you ever do is beat yourself up because you can’t meet expectations! Ha! And my focus for this year was Lean In… lean in to the discomfort, lean in to relationships, lean in to listen, lean in to the struggle, lean in and learn. Well, perhaps I leaned in a little too hard. It hurt. It was tough. It was, and still is, a major struggle. But what I learned in the process of trying to attain Peace and Joy, and in the process of Leaning In, I learned that I worry a lot about meeting expectations. I worry. I worry A LOT! I worry if I’m doing enough. I worry that I’m not doing what others expect of me. I worry that I’ll let someone down. I worry that I’ll fail at something hugely important. I worry about what people will think. I worry about what I write (yes, I’m worrying as I write this!). I worry that I might offend someone. There is a certain amount of fear that is embedded in worry. I recently heard that fear is an acronym for False Expectations Appearing Real. And in thinking through all of this worry and fear, I realized that the root of it is the fact that I want to meet everyone’s expectations of me. Okay… there are deeper roots than that… I’m a counselor, so I hear it and I see it as I process through this each day. It’s complex. It’s about father issues, it’s about abandonment, it’s about insecurity, it’s about wanting to be good enough, it’s about needing to achieve and earn my place… there is certainly a spiritual aspect to it too…it’s complex and messy. But I’m coming to grips with it. Just wish it hadn’t taken 49 years to get there! Life’s messy. So here we are, in the States at Christmas time. And my expectations issue is creeping up on me. I have to work hard to quiet the voices that are whispering, “What do you mean you aren’t going to buy 900 gifts for your kids? That’s just un-American!” I have to squelch my own self-judgment when I realize that everyone seems to have a whole wardrobe of Christmas attire for the litany of Christmas parties and events they are attending. I’m watching TV and seeing all the ‘perfect families’, and I’m watching my Facebook feed and seeing all the gatherings and photos and I easily slip in to worry – Will my Christmas look like the traditional Norman Rockwell pictures? Obviously not, since both my boys have voiced deep hatred for turkey or ham or any traditional foods – they have requested Dad’s chili for dinner and enchiladas for lunch. Norman Rockwell did not paint a Christmas portrait of enchiladas, but that’s what it will look like here. Will we make it through this season with smiles and laughs, or dissolve in to grumbling and old arguments? Are my days of family photos over forever since no one can ever be in the same place at the same time? What photo do I put on the Christmas card when we don’t have a photo with all of us in it? What will people think when they see that the missionaries don’t do Christmas ‘correctly’? I have one kid who doesn’t want any gifts because they make him feel guilty during this difficult life season. I have another one who wants to receive some things he needs, but I still don’t have a list from him or know how to accomplish that. And the 12 year old just wants money to put in to savings for her buy-a-horse fund. Expectations. When we were going through our initial missionary training before going overseas for service, we spent a lot of time talking about the stress and frustrations and disappointments that would eventually come. One of the biggest predictors for stress and frustration and disappoint is the gap that exists between expectation and reality. It is predictable that the bigger the gap between the reality that unfolds and expectations that we hold, the more intense the level of frustration will be. So I’m trying to examine my expectations during this season. I’m trying to examine my feelings when the worry and fear creep in. I’m trying to keep my expectations in check. I’m trying to focus on what is true and what is real and what will bring true Peace and Joy. Two-thousand years ago, some shepherds expected a normal night. They expected the sheep to lie down and sleep. They expected it to be chilly out. I can pretty much guarantee that they never expected an angel to show up! They never expected to receive the good news of a baby’s birth – how bizarre! We miss some of the Christmas story’s power if we neglect to see that the shepherds were unsuspecting, unqualified, and undeserving to be included. And God picked them anyway. (Acevedo, 2015) Two-thousand years ago, a baby was born. He wasn’t exactly what folks were expecting. They had expectations of a Savior, a Messiah, a King. They expected someone who would swoop in and save the day. They got a wiggly little baby in a stable. The gap between their expectations and their reality was WAY big! There were more than a few upset, stressed, frustrated religious folks in Jesus’ time! I’m trying to focus and remember that a lot of the things that are the root of my internal issues – my father issues and my abandonment, my insecurity and my need to be good enough – all of those things have already been redeemed! I have a Father – a father who will never abandon me. I have no need to worry about my security in Him. I am loved, no matter what. That’s my reality! It doesn’t get any better than that. Come enjoy dinner and a time of reconnecting! We will be in Texas soon and Christ UMC is hosting an evening of yummy food, dessert, and a time to hear about what's going on in Spain. We would love to see you there! You do NOT have to be a member of CUMC to join us! Just come to the fellowship hall at 5:30 with a hungry tummy and a big smile!
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Laurie DrumIn my USA life, I was a teacher in Texas for 15 years. I was also a professional photographer, a soccer mom, a horsewoman, and the neighborhood hospitality queen. I did "Joanna Gaines farmhouse style" before Chip and JoJo were even a thing - we restored an 1884 Victorian farmhouse in small town Texas and did shiplap walls until I thought I'd go crazy. I taught at NASA, scuba dived with astronauts in training, and studied animals at Sea World for educational purposes. I've tried just about everything, because I have an insatiable need to know if I can do it! Never underestimate a Texas girl in cowboy boots! In 2006, my husband Billy and I became cross-cultural workers (CCWs) with TMS Global. For five years, we served in three rural Quechua Wanca villages in the Andes of Peru. And when I say rural, I mean RURAL - like no potty! I spent my days in Peru learning to live a Quechua lifestyle in a rustic adobe house - cooking Peruvian foods, sewing with Quechua women, raising my chickens and goats and pigs, and planting my gardens. Now I live my life in small town Spain, serving other cross-cultural workers via teaching and training and care, and helping displaced people to navigate their new reality in Europe.
I'm passionate about fostering personal growth, growth in community, and growth in The Kingdom. Walking alongside others and helping them to use their unique design, their gifts and strengths and maximize their abilities to fulfill their God-given purpose - that's what makes my heart sing! Archives
March 2024
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