Two Capital Stories: a Headless Priest and Bubbles in Prison

We explored Cartago, the former capital of Costa Rica as well as San Jose.   The Fogg family invited us along on the adventure as we walked around fun historic sites in both cities. 

At one time, Cartago was the original capital city of Costa Rica, founded in 1563.   Nearby Volcano Irazu erupted and destroyed Cartago in 1723 and earthquakes in 1841 and 1910 left little of the original architecture intact.  Although it is no longer the capital city, (San Jose took the honor in 1823), it continues to be a prestigious Roman Catholic center for the country. 

The beautiful, bone white Basilica de Nuestra Senora de los Angeles was rebuilt and many people make a pilgrimage to see “La Negrita,”  a small black rock with an impression of the virgin Mary.  When we visited the cathedral, we saw people walking toward the rock on their knees, thus ending their journey in penitence.  We respectfully avoided getting in their way, but I wanted to stop them and tell them about Jesus, the only mediator between God and man, who finished the work on the cross.  There’s nothing left to pay! 

Another place we visited was a ruin of a shrine to St. James that remains in disrepair after the earthquakes.  Beautiful gardens surround the walls, but without the roof, it feels ghostly.  The legend that a headless priest lurks there at night adds to the ambiance.

We took a bus from Cartago to San Jose and walked through the downtown shopping area to the outskirts of town.   There, we toured a prison built in 1909 that was restored and converted to a children’s museum and theater.  We didn’t know it at the time, but the theater would be where Sabrina would perform with Ballet Magnificat, a Costa Rican dance company. 

The cost to enter was only about $3 per child and well worth the cost.  The place was like a labyrinth of rooms connected to more rooms and hallways and winding staircases.  It was like a maze with each room containing new fun stuff like a control center for a space station, a mini grocery store, or flight simulators, or magnets, or a giant sand box “archeological” site. 

Outside there was a huge bubble room where you could create a bubble around your body or simply blow giant bubbles.  There was an old helicopter to climb into, a small farm, and more that I don’t remember because I was too busy playing. 

My favorite part was the bathrooms which were former cells with the original iron bars.  I don’t know why, but I laughed with wicked delight when I discovered that we could sentence the boys to life and easily lock them up in the cell while they were still washing their hands.

We still have much more to explore in the city, but this was enough for one day.  I actually prefer walking on the wild side and head for the volcanoes and rainforest if I get a free weekend.

Christmas for Orphanage: Taste and see that the Lord is good!

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.”

James 1:27

Julia's 4th grade class purchased this gift

The box is much more fun than the truck

He kissed the soccer ball.  The ten year old boy was just busting with excitement because he opened his Christmas present, and it was just what he wanted.  I’ve never seen an expression quite like it. 

All of the children, all 133 of them, thankfully opened their gifts at the Fiesta de Navidad, a special annual party for children from a nearby orphanage.   Some of the children have parents who work long hours and need help with child care during the week.  But others are desperately in need of a place to live and have no home to return to on the weekends.

The opening of gifts was the culminating event of the night sponsored by students at the Spanish Language Institute.  But the very first event was a dramatic retelling of Christ’s birth and a proclamation of the gospel message.  Joshua was part of a bell choir that performed several Christmas songs to accompany the story.  Then groups of children rotated through carnival style games, a magic show, and face painting. 

The energy and excitement was at a fever pitch.  After they ate dinner, the popping noise of boys jumping on empty juice boxes echoed through the gymnasium, mingled with laughter and giggles.  Four piñatas filled with candy and peanuts added to the good natured exuberance.

We had already purchased gifts for some of the children, but the real fun was volunteering at the party.  Each person in our family had a different role and was generally too busy to even see what anyone else was doing.  

Sabrina and I painted lightning bolts, Jesus “fish,” gingerbread men, snowflakes, soccer balls, rainbows, and hearts on the children’s faces and hands.  Mark and Isaiah led the children in a game where each team had to lie on the floor and create shapes or letters,  Joshua set up the soda bottle bowling pins each time, and Julia pitched in when it was time to clean up and set up for the next day’s Thanksgiving Dinner.

Racing to make an "M" on the floor

Sabrina spotted the gift she had wrapped in blue Disney princess paper in the hands of a nine year old girl.  The pretty, petite girl held it close to her heart for a moment before unwrapping it.  Just as Sabrina had hoped, she was delighted each time she unzipped a glittery pink cosmetic bag and found another smaller one nestled inside.  She was still tightly clutching the lotion, body spray, and pink glittery bags as she left that evening to go sleep at the orphanage.

In the middle of the organized chaos, wrapping paper flying in every direction, a 7 year old boy opened a gift our family had chosen.  Joshua recognized the wrapping and watched from a distance as a boy his age smiled and held the boxed remote control car with both hands and raised it up in the air like a trophy. 

Many of these children are from immigrant families who have fled to Costa Rica from other parts of Central America to escape drug wars or severe poverty.   The orphanage keeps these children out of slavery or “child trafficking,” a very real problem for parents who know they don’t have food or shelter for their own children.   

I recently heard a woman in her 60’s talk of being sent away from her mother when she was 5 years old to work for the rest of her life.  That day, still vivid in her memory, was the end of her childhood and the beginning of a life of work without a chance for education or even time to play.  The orphanage near the Institute has been bringing hope for a different and better future to hundreds of children for more than 50 years.

PINATA!



It started to drizzle again as I walked home in the dark with Sabrina, Joshua, Julia and Isaiah.  I happened to look back towards the school and spotted two long dingy white buses pull out into the street.  I’m usually totally “finished” after such an event, but in that moment I wanted the buses to stop so we could love on those kids just a little bit longer.  May God bless and keep them and continue using his servants to minister the gospel to them, because I know He loves children.

School Daze Photo Collection



It's 7:15am and Isaiah is ready to walk to school!



9am  Isaiah works on a few coloring pages just for fun.



10:30am Grammar has never been this entertaining.  What a class!

 

11:30am Julia plays the recorder in a special program.



3pm  A basketball and soccer break with friends at a nearby park.

...Just chatting



5pm  Neighbors often join us after homework is finished.









Christmas Newsletter

Sabrina volunteers at a Christmas Party for 130 children from a local orphanage

Click on the link to view our Christmas Update!
https://docs.google.com/open?id=0B4IiS84juK3lY2U0NGUwZWQtM2JlZS00MDZlLThjYmMtNzIyNDg2ZWYwZDcy

Language Learning Expectations vs. Reality

Our first trimester classmates chat before class

While I was in our pre field training, I wrote a reflection paper on language learning and my plans to implement certain techniques. How does the reality of language school measure up with my idealistic goals?

July 2011, Pre field training at MTI:  I’ve always longed to learn a second language and hope that my passionate desire will propel me through hours of memorization, complicated grammar lessons, and lots of classroom training.  In PILAT I have learned that although dedication is essential, language is a human capability, and I should approach it as an obtainable experience, not an endless math drill. 

November 2011, Costa Rica: After 3.5 months here, I still have a strong sense of purpose propelling me through the memorization and grammar lessons.  I love my teachers and classes.  I believe it is possible to achieve a level of fluency in Spanish, not just one of basic survival.  Thank you, Lord, for perseverance!

July 2011: Like a child, I need to let my curiosity and need drive my language acquisition.  I’ll be “slow to speak and quick to listen.”  I’ll observe and listen at the same time, experiencing the entire context of conversations by jumping in with both feet.   I’ll struggle to communicate with others when trying to get on the right train, checking to make sure I’m getting off the bus at the right street, or finding out when the farmer’s market opens.  I will need to live as a curious, humble, and, at times, helpless child as I discover a new place on the planet, phrase by phrase.

November 2011:  My curiosity is still moving me to ask questions and initiate conversation.  When I need to ask permission for Sabrina to miss a ballet class, or when I want a teacher to repeat an explanation in class, and when I want the taxi driver to get us home, the Spanish emerges by necessity.  I also listen carefully to needed information.  Phrase by phrase, the language is becoming a part of my thinking and speaking. And people understand what I’m trying to communicate!  It’s exciting.

July 2011: I hope that people in this new culture will also love me, because I will make many mistakes.  There will be so much that I just don’t know yet.  I already fail to communicate clearly in English and often say things that could be understood in two different ways.  From my perspective, I am perfectly clear, but the other person’s assumptions have led him to a different meaning than I intended.  If the actual spoken word is only a small percentage of what happens in communication, then I will also need to understand tone, facial expressions, body language, unique personalities, and cultural context.  These will likely be very different than the cues I’m subconsciously familiar with in English.  Communication is so much more than words, and I will learn the non verbal cues and historical context faster in the cultural setting.

November 2011:  I’m finding that much of the nonverbal communication transcends culture.  But I would need to live here for many more years before picking up the more subtle nuances.  When a tico is polite, I look for cues to see if he is sincere or not, but I don’t see anything to help me!  People here have been gracious as I have made mistakes (as far as I can tell).

July 2011: The biggest obstacle to learning a second language is within me.  I like to get things done efficiently, and yet I will have to choose to take the longer road at first.  Instead of hiding at home, keeping everything neat and tidy the way I like things done, I will have to live life at the park or market, spending time with people who do things differently than I.  I’ll have to choose to try to understand the perspective of my Costa Rican friends, laughing at all the wrong times, instead of spending the bulk of my time sharing stories with fellow missionaries.  I believe the key to learning Spanish will be living in the middle of Costa Rica and Uruguay in a manner that is deliberately uncomfortable and inefficient, but exceedingly rewarding.  

November 2011:  I am truly living in a way that is uncomfortable, but not deliberately.  I’m not looking for shortcuts to avoid Spanish speaking opportunities, but I’m not exactly going out of my way.  For example, I’ve had meaningful conversations in a hair salon, in the dance studio, and with tico friends.   So, language learning is progressing but still feels somewhat mechanical.  We are learning the difference between “perfecto” and “imperfecto” past tense verbs.  Even when I thoughtfully write a paper, I make mistakes.  I can’t imagine what I must sound like when I’m speaking.   By God’s grace I will keep learning and progressing, poco a poco.

Audrey!!!

Audrey was a special guest in our home who soon became a sister.   She lived here with us for two and a half weeks while she transitioned from missionary (In Argentina & Costa Rica) to grad student in Texas.  But we became friends long before that.  What a blessing she was to our family!  Her cheerfulness, servant’s heart, and volunteer work at an orphanage made lasting impressions on all of us.  I still remember when she walked into our house for the first time and started washing dishes so I could finish up in the kitchen and go to volleyball with her. 

Pizza nights were so much fun!  And I loved hearing her mom’s voice over Skype in the evenings.  She’s quite a story teller.

Within a week of her departure, Julia gave half of her allowance to buy a gift for child in need, washed dishes although it wasn’t an assigned chore, and let her brother choose the game he wanted to play.  “Mom, I just did it!”  What?  “I let Isaiah choose the game even though I wanted to.”  Julia’s new self awareness of sacrificial, Christ-like love was a clearly a blessing from having Audrey as a big sister. 

Weary

To be honest, I've been posting pics of the kids and cute animals instead of Mark and me in language school because I think that's what readers prefer.  But, we really are hard at work each week in twenty hours of class and even more hours studying and practicing.  We both have a heart to share the wonderful news of Jesus with the people of Uruguay and this is where we must begin.

We just had very encouraging mid term reviews with our teachers.  Mark and I are in the same classes and our grades in each class vary by only one point!  We are getting comfortable with the new routine, but the classes, especially grammar, are intensifying.  The test we took on Friday was 2 hours long.

Just living here, which is more time consuming and more physically demanding than our life in California, takes up the rest of the the time.  The greatest challenges are: living w/o a vehicle, leaks in the ceiling that lead to mold growing on the walls, carrying groceries home, keeping tile floors clean when it rains every day, staying positive despite the ever incessant rain, and helping four kids study for tests when we also have tests.

But we are also relishing the blessings: swapping kids with other families that live close by, new friends, a spanish church family, new foods, a variety of birds, fresh pineapple every week, walking and talking with our children.

Thanks so much for your love and support!  We need it!

Rainforest Green and Ocean Blue

Manuel Antonio

City living in the capital of a country makes me green anemic.  And because the buildings tightly line the sidewalk, the best view of the mountains is most often found when standing in the middle of the street.  And that's not the place to stop and gaze since cars have the right of way.  The park is just a short walk away, but the afternoon rain keeps us inside on most days.  There's only one cure.

Escaping to one of the most beautiful places on earth was well worth the long, hot, twisty turny bus ride and hostel simplicity.  Strange, different, exciting, it felt like something I'd do in college, but here we were with the kids hanging out on the patio of Manuel Antonio Backpacker's Hostel with the rain coming down in torrents and the dark rainforest just feet away.  

At times, the deafening roar of rain on the tin roof made conversation impossible.  So we sat together at the picnic tables, recently covered with wood colored contact paper, or wandered over to sit on the damp, musty sofas.  Several languages floated past our ears since all of us backpackers preferred mixing in the common area over squatting on metal bunkbeds in the semi private rooms.

I recharge when alone.  And I found that time by waking at 5am, after the rain had finally ceased, and walking into the rainforest to listen to the wildlife wake.  But I also enjoyed the bond of mutual trust necessary to share our 4 bunkbed room with others and make pancakes with strangers in the common kitchen.

When we arrived at Manuel Antonio National Park, I was breathless at the sheer height of the dense, tangled jungle wall rising on either side of the path.  Tarzan tendrils hung from the trees, and giant royal palms took center stage.  The magnitude of the plant life made the giant spider on the information sign look tiny.  We opted out of a tour and soaked in the experience at our own pace. 

We took note of the places the other guides stopped, to see if we could see what they were observing through their special equipment.  After one small group moved on with their guide, I stood still for another 20 minutes, watching and photographing a sloth as it emmerged from behind the leaves and slowly made its way from one tree limb to another. 

Isaiah and Julia seemed to spot the greatest number of creatures and pointed out the red crabs before they disappeared, scuttling into their holes.  The monkeys on the white, sandy beach were the most entertaining.  One of them stole a shirt left on a beach blanket, ran up high into the trees, and then tried to put it on.  He didn't make much progress and left it hanging on a branch.  Observing all of these creatures in their natural habitat was better than any trip to the zoo. 

The water turns silver in the afternoon sun

The water was a perfect temperature, with different sized waves depending on the beach.  We explored another private cove in the afternoon, but the sun was starting to set, turning the blue water to silver, and we needed to head back to the hostel.

After just one full day of green, blue, and white, I was ready to ride the public bus back into downtown San Jose.  In four or five weeks, I'll be due for another dose.


Julia swings on the hostel's tarzan rope



Joshua's First Communion, Twice

After missionary training in Colorado, Mark stepped back into his "pastor" shoes and led Joshua through his membership vows on August 7, 2011.  On that same day, Joshua took his first communion with the friends and families he'd grown up with.  Ironically, it was his last Sunday morning with them before our family left for the mission field.

Sovereign Grace has been Joshua's home church since the day he was born.  In fact, he came into the world just hours after Mark was ordained as the pastor.  Everyone at the service knew I was in labor, thanks to a well intentioned announcement, and I pasted on a smile for most of the evening.  Early the next morning, Joshua was born into a quiet, semi-lit hospital room to the sound of Mark lovingly singing my favorite hymns.  At one point during labor, a nurse came in to check on us and said she felt like she was interupting something sacred. 

Eleven years later, Joshua professed his faith and joined the church on our last day of worship at SGCC.   Just a few weeks ago, he participated in his second communion, "La Santa Cena," this time in a Spanish speaking church here in Costa Rica.  The glass cups filled with grape juice (vino) and sweet flat bread (pan) was different and yet the same.  On the cement wall, the pastor projected the Scripture, illustrated with photos, so we could all easily follow along in the service.

One in English, one in Espanol, a first communion, twice.

Playa Hermosa

After we were properly oriented, we took a day trip to Jaco and Playa Hermosa.  This is what I was looking forward to!  It was everything I hoped for:  Crocodiles, Scarlet Macaws, Iguanas…. Black sand, churning waves, scattered coconuts... a slushie made with fresh pineapple, passion fruit and mango...

It all Fit...



We packed the Souza's van the night before we left. 

 Jammed tightly in the crates and carry ons

Loaded in the back of the Souza’s van

Piled high onto a rolling luggage cart

Onto the first and second planes, even though the luggage scanner was broken

Onto another huge luggage cart in the San Jose, Costa Rica airport

Through the scanners at Customs

Into another van, for a big tip,

Into our new living room.

I’m so glad we brought the legos, the phone, good pots, the electric skillet, my garlic press, favorite teas, canisters to keep out the ants, favorite pillows and blankets, clothes for school, umbrellas, school supplies, shoes, tech stuff, backpacks.  It was worth it!  Everything here is twice as expensive and difficult to shop for since we walk or take a taxi everywhere.  We had everything we needed to start living when we landed.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for taking such good care of us and the Laymans during our final week.  Thanks to Rose, Bailey, Desi, Ken and Jesarah for helping us clean up the house.  Thanks to the Souzas for feeding us, packing us, and getting us to the airport.  That drive to San Francisco was a nail biter!  Thanks to the Foggs for greeting us in Costa Rica and getting us everything we needed.  Having food in the fridge for our first morning was lovely.   We are blessed.

Isaiah found a place to sleep while we moved the luggage into our new apartment.

A Teen Between

Samantha, Samantha, and Sabrina get pedicures

   Sabrina became a teenager in the air, high above the Carribean, between the U.S. and Costa Rica.  She had a party at the Tucker’s house before we left, a party at our house with the Laymans (who drove out from Ohio!!!) and Grandparents, and then enjoyed a nice meal on the plane.  The airline attendant announced her birthday and everyone clapped for her, although their joy seemed centered on safely landing at their destination.  When we walked out of the airport, our friend Eric Fogg was easy to spot because he was wearing a red balloon crown, intended for the birthday girl to wear (which she eventually did as we headed to the van – what a good sport!)  We also found our apartment in Costa Rica decorated with balloons, card, and a birthday greeting.  So many people made her special day memorable.

Turning 13 in the Air Between 2 Worlds

A Birthday Welcome when we walk into our new place.

Hello and Goodbye in a Blink

     My mom and dad, Jon and Marian Stevenson, came out to visit us at MTI and bid us farewell.  We visited the Flying W Ranch, The Air Force Academy, and Focus on the Family.  And they took the kids for a day at the park to give me and Mark some time together at Garden of the Gods.  They were a tremendous encouragement to us, especially since they know what it’s like to pack up and head out to the unknown.  Dad remembers leaving California to go to Guam when he was Sabrina’s age, and both of them worked together in Vieques, Puerto Rico where I was born.  I’m looking forward to finally learning my first language.


Waving after a successful summit to the top of the Flying W Ranch Mountain



Amazed at the architectural beauty of the Air Force Academy Chapel

Missionary Training for all of us

Missionary Training International in Palmer Lake, Colorado

Our first three weeks of classes felt like spiritual open heart surgery.  It was necessary, though, and bonded us with our friends as we walked through the valley of the shadow of death and then recovered together in green pastures. Our teachers forced us to count the cost by naming our losses, and not just recent ones.  “List every loss you’ve ever had.”  “Loss,” a word for the people and places we were about to leave behind, and a word for all the people and treasured things we’ve ever had to say goodbye to. 

“Paradox” was another word we were given to describe the dual feelings of grieving what's left behind and anticipating future opportunities.  It’s possible to feel both at the same time, and I felt relieved to know I wasn't the only one going through those tumultuous emotions. 

A session on Sabbath rest was one of my favorites.  I was reminded that it’s actually healthy and spiritually refreshing to invest time and energy in non-productive play.  Another green pasture was our worship time in the morning.  Thanks to all of you on the worship team!  After hours of prayer and meditation on God’s Word, we all felt spiritually armed to face the upcoming challenges of cross cultural living.

We spent another two weeks loosening up our tongues and warming up our brains to learn a second language.   We especially looked forward to times when our instructors shared personal stories of life on the field.

In reflection on our time at MTI, I was most amazed by the talented people we met.  They came from many different backgrounds - engineering, marine biology, music ministry, business, pediatrics, the army, education - and they were all ready to use their gifts on the mission field.  I was honored to be among them and inspired by their dedication and love. 

After Photo of Garage

The pile covered with a red sheet went to Goodwill.  The pile behind Mark's mom was packed up for Costa Rica.

Missionary Training Started Early

View of Grand Canyon - From top of the Flatbed Tow Truck

  

Missionary training started a few days early for our family!  



Title of Course: Grace under Fire

Course Length: the last 3 grueling days of our road trip to MTI in Colorado 

Objective: The missionary will prayerfully make good decisions under stress while maintaining unity among all group members and fostering a positive, optimistic attitude that rests in God’s sovereignty. 

Aside from a few problems like an elk snoozing where we wanted to set up our tent, the camp stove breaking, the screen tent flying apart in a gust of wind, the propane lantern catching on fire, and the boys’ tent zipper failing, we enjoyed a brief stop at the Grand Canyon.  We felt pretty confident that we could handle these minor issues and lump them together as one big trial that wasn’t too awful.  Josh had a great time flipping pancakes on an iron skillet over the fire pit! Who needs a silly camp stove? 

Our second trial was bigger.  The car’s transmission failed along the Grand Canyon rim.  We drove in 2^nd gear to the nearest gas station and waited a few hours for a tow truck.  The nearest mechanic was 80 miles south in Flagstaff, Az.   We prayed and discussed our options, realizing that I might have to camp with the kids by myself on the rim while Mark rode back with the Ford and tow truck.  The several hours of waiting were tense, but we stuck together and God provided a solution we never even considered.

We all ended up going to Flagstaff together.  We sat, buckled in our seats, windows cracked, enjoying the views of the Painted Desert from atop a flatbed tow truck.  A feeling of utter helplessness ripped through me as I sat in the passenger’s seat of my Ford Expedition while it was pulled up onto the flatbed.  Mark commented later that the ride felt like the hand of God carrying us to a safe place.   As our SUV swayed in the wind, the cab of the truck out of view, I thought it seemed more like a helicopter ride.  The kids waved to everyone passing by, and I made several videos of Mark falling asleep at the wheel, recreating a scene from Knight and Day.  Mark was a good sport considering the situation.

In Flagstaff, we hopped out of the car, quickly grabbed enough gear and food for a night, and walked to the nearest hotel, leaving the Ford at the mechanic’s.  It was too windy to use the hotel grill or our camp stove, so I got creative: instant mashed potatoes in the coffee pot and sausage and green beans in the mike.   It sounds gross, but since I had the food, I didn’t even think about ordering take out.

The third trial of this impromptu training (ie God lovingly disciplining us through hardship) was the hardest, yet.  This time Mark and I struggled to push through the situation, fighting weariness.

After considering whether to trade the Ford, sell it, or rent a van, we prayerfully made the tough decision to spend mucho money on a car we only need for 6 more weeks.  The day looked promising when the mechanic loaned us a white Ford Windstar for free!  We drove 4 miles down Rt 66 to the nearest Target to pick up some needed supplies for an unexpected hotel stay over the weekend.   For those interested in the details, here they are:

8:30pm Target parking lot. The mechanic’s loaner van wouldn’t start.  It actually shook every time Mark turned the key in the ignition.

9:00 pm We picked up our Target bags, asked a few Target employees about local busses, and walked up and down the busy street looking for a bus stop. 

9:30pm We find out from nice person #6 that the busses stop running at 7pm on the weekends and we need to call a taxi. 

10:00pm  We sit outside a Carl’s Jr. waiting for a cab, and Isaiah falls asleep.  We create and play a city astronomer game and locate a happy star, three different clusters of 50 stars, a half sun, and a wealthy star.   

10:30 pm  We move inside the Carl’s Jr. and order fries.  Isaiah continues to sleep, not minding the new location.  The girls set up drums with a salt shaker, booth seat, and napkin holders, rocking to the 90’s metal music on the radio. 

11:00pm  Exhaustion sets in and we stare at each other.  Julia falls asleep.  Mark continues to call taxi numbers, but the Beer Fest in town seems to be keeping them too busy to care about a family of six that needs to go 4 miles down the road.   The hotel won’t send a shuttle.  They just gave us another taxi number.  All I could say was, “Should we start walking?”  And we would both agree that walking 4 miles in the dark, in the cold desert wind, along Rt 66, carrying Isaiah, while wearing flip flops, this late at night was crazy.



Our transmission blew out here, on the rim of the Grand Canyon
Above Photo: An Elk beat us to our campsite



11:30pm  Mark leaves the Carl’s Jr. to look for a gas station or tow truck business – anything!  He comes back, still on the phone.  I notice a man, hesitating to get into the car with his family because he’s watching Mark talk on the phone.  He looks like he might want to help.  I motion to Mark – ask that guy if he’ll give us a ride!  Mark was on the phone with a tow truck driver, but an actual person with a vehicle looked more promising at that point.  The man said he would drop off his family at their hotel and then come back for us.

11:45 pm.  After waiting some more, hoping the Carl’s Jr. wouldn’t close, we gladly piled into the back of the nice person from New Jersey’s car.  Thank you, sir!  I’m sorry we forgot your name, but we’ll never forget your rescue.

I’m not sure what grade we got, but we understand that this is all part of God’s life training to make us holier.  I hope we apply the lessons we learned about trusting God to work out everything for his glory and waiting for him to provide what we need, when we need it.





New Friends bring us pizza while we wait in Flagstaff, Az