Love, Laughter, and Life

Adventures With a Book Lover


by 1 Comment

Allo!

Ooh la la! I travelled into the world of French dialogue this week! And it was very scary. Oui, I mean non. It was humiliating. Oui, that is the correct word. Humbling.

Imagine this. In our Yakima Valley, we have many languages, from Spanish (predominant) to different Native American dialects to Philippino to Japanese, and increasing Russian sounding and Asian. But not often is there French. I don’t believe any of our high schools even teach it anymore. But the biggest language we see is Spanish.

A few days ago, I was headed into Top Foods, the grocery store we frequent (especially since our daughter works at the connected Starbucks, which is one of the 2 in WA state to be closed – not a good move, but that is another story and I’ve already been in contact with headquarters). I walked past two women. My ears perked up as it sounded like they were speaking French. Cool. I thought, oh, I should stop and say bonjour. Mais, non, I continued out the exit. Non, I thought, this is unique for us. So I waited for the doors to open (I was on the wrong side), and went back in. Alas, they were gone.

I figured I had missed the opportunity, so I walked to the car and put my groceries away. Glancing back, I saw the same 2 ladies sitting down in front of Starbucks in the outside cafe chairs. Try number 2. Hmmm, another free observation. Moi, I seem to need at least 2 chances to get things together. Maybe that’s why it’s taking Kevin and I about 6 years to pursue this call to France.

Girding myself with at least a cheery “Bonjour” I timidly waltzed across the parking lot and went up to them. Yes, you can timidly waltz. As I approached, they immediately got up and started announcing they were just waiting…(In France, at least Paris, one must buy food or drink at a cafe before acquiring the right to sit in a chair and use a table – they thought I was going to run them off). No, no, I said. You are fine! Then I commenced with my one word of Bonjour, Allo(2 ways to say hi). They were so friendly and glad that I had stopped to massacre the French language with them – I mean they were very gracious and spoke with me. Their English was wonderful. My French, all 3-4 words, were atrocious.

Fast forward, the two amis were a part of a 10-person tour led by a French professor who had taught one year in Montana and was now leading this group for 24 days throughout our beautiful northwest. Voila! The rest of the group came out of Top Foods, and I helped them gather enough chairs and tables to sit together. I’m sure the newcomers were wondering about me. But I soon enough enhanced their ears with my preschool sentences of wrong tense French. I know this because they very nicely were happy to help me correct what I was saying. Humbling. Yes, humbling.

Let me tell you how friendly and polite they were. If I could have dug up some more rudimentary French, I’m sure I could’ve stayed. But my nerves frazzled out. Sigh. I did manage to share that Kevin and I are moving to Paris next April, to which they all responded excitedly, and wanted to know details and whys and where would we live and study (I told them, in French, that I had already studied French there…which they corrected for me, as obviously, I hadn’t studied yet!). They were from southern France, Toulouse, but who knows? We may meet somewhere in France!

My newest observation and fact about Angie – I have a basic working understanding of some French, more in writing than hearing or speaking. But confront me with a French speaking person, and voila, it’s all a big fat ZERO of blathering idiot (say that in French ee-dee-ote). Tant pis, too bad. The great news? I was excited to talk with these new friends. God filled me with love and a desire to get to know them and spend time with them.

Merci beaucoup, mon Dieu, for the opportunity and the encouragement to visit, however humiliating, with the people of my heart.

PS A funny sidenote – I was sharing (dans english) that after culture shock and a few months of French school, I would be able to speak much better when if I met them. The professor said that I must drink MUCH WINE. Does much wine make the culture shock go away? Or just make one not care how bad her French is? I didn’t tell them I wouldn’t be sampling their fruit of the wine, I mean vine, at least not until the great heavenly feast. 🙂


by 2 Comments

Boise State

 

Kev & Ang pose for lovely publicity photo!

Kev & Ang pose for lovely publicity photo!

On the road again…We used to sing that to a college friend, who was ALWAYS on the phone. We just switched the words. “On the phone again, she just can’t wait to get on the phone again…”

But seriously, we are now off the road. Again. Just home from Boise State, where we realized we never told anyone except our two young’ins that we were going. Oops. Our brain slots were full.

We enjoyed a whirlwind trip to Boise State where the Utah/Idaho Baptist Convention had a huge gathering called Equip. Twelve missionaries participated in an opening night commissioning service. It was fantastic! Now, if one were to attend the rehearsal, one would not even dare to think the real thing would work. We chased lizards, as our leader told us, to tame them and remove them before the big night. Let me tell you, we had a whole zoo full of lizards (sound problems, equipment problems, equipment everywhere, people setting up, forgotten testibytes, confused wandering m’s…). They say that if rehearsal goes poorly (and we were not in line for any oscar’s, that’s for sure) then the BIG one will go great.

And it did! Not without lots of prayer, perspiration, and focus. The room was set up for at least 650, and I guess there were people lining the back wall. I was too ancy and focused to see them. We did perspire. The more crowded, the hotter it got. The worship music was contemporary and awesome. All of the m’s calmly (on the outside) gave beautiful and varied testibytes, Dr. Rankin gave a great charge, and the invitation had at least 11 responses of individuals and couples feeling the call to serve somehow. Neat-o bandito!

Kevin was really into his sharing, and almost teared up enough to stop him from talking. Now, if you know Kevin, that’s amazing…anything that’s gets him to pause from speaking…hmmmm. Which in turn, caused many of the other m’s to tear up (fortunately for them, we were again, almost LAST, so it was ok). We had a total of 250 words this time. I didn’t quite have time to get into the throw-up story (makes you wonder, doesn’t it?), but I gave some glimpses into it. Afterwards, we were put into our corners by region, and people came by and visited with us. Wow! Lot’s of interest in France and Paris. I was trying to recruit future mission team members. Hint hint.

All in all, it was a great time. Flew over Tuesday, worked all day Wednesday (walked about 4 miles, got lost), had the service Wednesday night, and flew home early Thursday. It was such a blessing to meet so many people and connect with them.

What’s next? Kev-ster and I are going to do something similar in Alaska at the end of September. I think we will actually visit some churches and see some of the beauty of the people and the state.

Sad part? Took my camera. Number of photos? 0. Imagine me looking slimmer and fine in my flouncy polka dot skirt and black tank and sweater-let. Slimmer, I said. Oh, and younger, younger… 🙂 With a nice suntan.


by Leave a comment

Oklahoma City

Testibyte Time

Testibyte Time

We did it! Last Friday, one week ago, Kevin and I were appointed as missionaries in Oklahoma City with 32 of our friends. The service was held at Southern Hills Baptist Church (as Sebastian, my nephew used to say, a Big, Big, huuge, church). The choir was about 75. They had rockin’ worship music and vibe. It was a blessed time for us, one we will always remember.

One portion of the service was when each of the candidates gave his or her, in our case ‘our’ testibyte. We were limited to 155 words, together! Kevin and I both totally messed up during rehearsal…so you can imagine the stress and nerves while waiting to see if it would happen again. Only three units (yes, we are a unit) were after us…so the wait was long. Oh, and after rehearsal, complete with walk-throughs and microphones and seating arrangements, one of the men in charge said, “Oh, and tonight they will have a closeup of your faces on the two big screens that you face (in the rafters). So just don’t look at yourself, and you’ll be fine.” Yikes! Nothing worse than myself magnified by 50% (math people could help with that estimate) and shining off of 3 screens in the auditorium.

We made it! I still blanked out on 2 words, but filled them in with something suitable (I hope). We found that we were able to listen and concentrate more on the entire event AFTER we were done sharing. Fortunately, they video taped (CD’D) the service, and we will receive a copy in about a month. So we can go back and listen and watch it again, without the sound of adrenaline rushing through our ears.

The blessings of our great God, fantabulous friends, adopted family, cool music, good charge to the candidates, chocolate at the reception, … A great time was had by all.

And Tiny Tim said, “God bless us, every one.”


by Leave a comment

Uhhhh…

We think we\'re going to France! (official RLM\'s!)

Look-out!

Being eloquent and totally bilingual in French (I hope you recognize sacasm when you read it), I impressed someone who will probably never respect me…

As a part of our journey to live and work in France, we must secure a Visa (not the kind with variable interest rates and bonus points). I wasn’t worried, as we have a French consulate in Seattle, a mere 2 1/2 – 3 hour drive, depending on traffic. I hunted down the phone number and called the consulate, never considering that the people working there could possibly be French citizens (or at least totally bilingual). When the receptionist answered the phone, it was in total and speedy French! I was not prepared. Let me give you a direct quote on of my witty comeback.

“Uuhhhh,” I said.

Quite clever, non? I may as well have handed over my certificate of future French dork. Let’s see, au francais, ‘Je suis une idiot americain.’

I could hear her rolling her eyes (do they do that in France?) and mentally switching gears to help the pathetic petitioner on the line.

Nevertheless, she was quite helpful, and informed me that we had to travel in person to San Francisco to procure our Visa. I’m sure I detected a faint smile when she told me this. After 9-11, the French consulates were reduced to 6 worldwide, and they require in person visits for a biometric (is that the right word????) Visa. Meaning, we will have a microchip on our Visa that includes fingerprints and photo. Ahhhh, technology.

My honey and I are off to San Francisco, probably in August. We will entertain ideas of favorite tourist destinations and/or restaurants. No idea how long we will have to stay, or if we must just buzz back home. Buzz in this case means a day and a half drive one way.

Send us your ideas, s’il vous plait!


by Leave a comment

Appointment Week

Wow! We are here, and things are moving along quite nicely. Very, very busy…except this morning when I have time to borrow a lap top and blog and add some photos. I could blog in the library, but those are secure computers and they won’t recognize my camera. Oh well. Jerod and Rebekah were nice (or gullible enough) to lend me their technology.

Where to begin? So far, the biggest thing we’ve done is to have dinner with and meet with our regional trustees. They are/were the ones that approve or deny our application. It was a great time where we shared our testimonies and call to France. They asked a few questions, prayed for us, and affirmed our call. It was very encouraging. There are only 4 of us headed to Western Europe at this appointment week – Jared and Rebekah Motley, from Okra-homa, and us, the Q’s from the beautiful and not humid northwest. (As a side note, in February, when we were here for candidate conference, this was not an issue. My hair is at least 6″ wider in Virginia in the summer humidity! I am NOT joking. I have mucho product on my hair to keep it to a width appropriate to fitting through doors!) The formal approval will be Friday night during the commissioning service in Oklahoma City.

The rest of our time has been full, I mean really full. Meetings, meals, planning, paperwork…friends, new and old. The great news is being able to see how much God is working among our lives and the lives of the ones we are meeting and talking to. We are blessed to be here when the emeritus (retiring) missionaries had their services. Kevin and I carried flags for the flag ceremony portion of the service. We enjoyed worship services together, and then the emeritus laid hands on and prayed for us. We’ve spoken with many who used to work and live in France, and they were very encouraging and said how much they loved the people and their jobs. 🙂 Good to hear!

This fountain was one of the coolest (as in neat and temperature) places at the International Learning Center. Here we are at the International Learning Center. It’s been pretty warm and humid. At least for this NW girl. There are several from the NW here, including Chad and Miriam, right from the Yakima Valley. We’re pretty sure they will be here with us in January, after their baby is born. 🙂

The greatest thing is hanging with all of our friends who are going through the same thing (like learning how to share 2 minutes modules, or 155 word count testimonies, or how to crate belongings and figure out how to get the crate -about 8′ tall- out of a house). The sad part is missing friends like Tess and Chris, who we LOVE and want to have here with us. They will have their turn! Sell house sell.

Miriam, Chad, Angie, Kevin at ILC We, the northwest, have a couple here from the Gresham area, two couples from the Yakima Valley, and another young lady from our area. So there are 5 new m’s at ILC from the northwest! Wow! That is great news…

Oh, you should see the lighting bugs! Like little floating Christmas lights. It’s so neat. And the blue birds, red birds, long tailed robins, some other kind of bird like a miniature magpie, squirrels,…and deer. I just know there are deer. We have a river/lake right near us, with open fields and trees all around. Just haven’t seen the deer yet, but I know they are there.

On to the next meeting. Love ya!


by 1 Comment

Did you know?

Did you know they have band-aids for eyeballs? I found out today. It’s not even an exciting story or anything! I was putting away my clothes in the dresser. Yes, that’s it. I wasn’t climbing a mountain, walking in the wind, chopping wood, or riding my bike on the Greenway.

As I was deeply involved in this exciting adventure of laundry, I puffed ???? some air and something else up beneath my glasses and into my eyeball. Ouch. It felt immediately like a pokey and sharp prize in my eye. I have an older dresser, which always has splinters and little bits of wood in the bottom. So it was that – or lint. I really wanted to stay in this mode of most exciting day, but my eye hurt. I rinsed, rubbed (gently), put in drops, cried, flushed…nothing changed except it got worse.

All good things have to come to an end, so I stopped putting away clothes and cleaning out the closet. I had to break down and call for a ride to the eye doctor. [Sidenote: Dr. LaBissoniere. I chose him in high school because his last name is French.]  The receptionist, of course, asked what was wrong. I gave a blow by blow account of the fantastic details of my movie-like life event…I was worked into the schedule.

After I explained my weird, let’s just say it, it’s too weird, not even spectacular, accident for the 3rd time in the office (not counting on the phone), the doctor came in. She got those giant insect lens looking things out and peered into my eye. “There it is. A piece of wood. Sticking straight into your cornea. It never would’ve come out by itself.”

Whew. I’m glad I wasn’t over-reacting. But my mind had already thought ahead to HOW it was coming un-stuck from my eyeball. And could I please be put out for that. “Oh, we will numb your eye.” Is that by shot, because if it is, I’m outta here, sliver or not in my eyeball.

“We have eyedrops.” Ok then, praise the Lord for eyedrops! Now that’s a weird feeling. Numb eyeball. I could just barely see her stick the tweezer-thingy’s in and grab out the wood.

Now, there were scratches, but they are off center of my field of vision, so if there is scarring (I hadn’t even thought of that yet!), it wouldn’t really affect my main vision. “I’m going to give you a band-aid (thinking eye patch here) so the scratches will be protected while they heal. And some antibiotic eye drops.”

Band-aid for eyeballs = contact band-aid! How cool is that! She popped it into my eye, and I wear it until I see her in 2 days. Luckily, I already wear contacts, so I’m used to things being in my eye (but not pieces of wood). No makeup, no contacts, no rubbing…Just eye drops and a contact band-aid. The marvels of modern medicine and technology.

It was exciting until my sister, who I love dearly, said, “Oooh, how will they take it out?” Good question. Surely contact band-aids don’t rip off your skin like normal ones, do they?

You learn something new every day. And any typos are a direct result of a contact band-aid and blurry vision.


by Leave a comment

Way Back When

My bad! I haven’t blogged for quite awhile…but who’s counting? Kevin and I are getting ready to head to Richmond, Virginia, and Oklahoma City for our appointment week! Yeah! That means one more step in the process to serve the Lord overseas in east Paris. 🙂

I was reminiscing recently, thinking back to when our 2, Bub and Bubbette (thanks Grandpa) were preschoolers. My journey through missions began then. But my love of all things French started much earlier, high school, or maybe middle school. I was fascinated with the French people and culture. I dreamed of visiting or studying in France. (visited – yes; studied there – no). My mom likes to say I was born French, just in the wrong country.

Fast forward to Kevin and I having 2 little Q’s. I needed something to do with them on Wednesday nights, while Kevin was working with the youth. Nothing was offered for preschoolers or children. Our pastor suggested we try Mission Friends. Wow! What a great and life changing choice for us. The curriculum is great. We had a ball learning about people groups, countries, cultures, customs, foods, languages…and missionaries that lived and worked in different places around the world to tell others about the love of Jesus. With each lesson and unit, I became more and more involved and in love with missions (living with the love, heart, and eyes of Jesus).

Skip forward many years. I was blessed to write curriculum for Mission Friends (another love of mine is preschoolers) and articles for Mosaic. With each assignment, I became thirstier to join the team of those serving the Lord in other lands. My call to missions didn’t happen immediately, but God used numerous layers of experiences to point out and confirm His will for me. Another layer was the mission trips I took. Kevin went with me to Paris to work alongside believers in the city. That trip confirmed our call to serve overseas. It also gave us our destination – Paris.

Leap ahead again! (God knew we would take awhile to be really ready!) We are poised on the edge of leaping totally into His arms of care and into a different culture. Our little Mission Friends are grown up and ready to live independently of mom and pop (ouch! it went so fast). So instead of them leaving home, well, they really have already, mom and dad are moving away!

On Friday, June 27 in Oklahoma City, we will be appointed as missionaries. (Please pray for our commissioning service and the weather! As true northwesterners, we are used to volcanoes, rain, wind, snow, dust, sun, snakes, scorpions…not tornadoes!). Upon our return home, we will prepare in earnest to transfer residence to France. The house is gone, but too much stuff is still hanging around. You know what that means ~ yard sale, storage unit, giving away, selling, packing, loaning…the paperwork alone is daunting. Kevin will still be PK (Pastor Kevin) until December 28. In January, we travel to Richmond for orientation and training. We anticipate being in Paris and attending language school in early April. Tres bien, oui?

Good news – we have YEARS of experience. Bad news – it is harder to learn a foreign language as an older (not ancient) adult. We were even advised of this tidbit at a previous meeting. Sigh. But I do believe these 2 old dogs can learn new tricks – and vocabulary. So, woof woof, I mean au revoir, mes amis.


by Leave a comment

Scrappin’ Stuff

Do you know how much stuff it takes to scrap? Too much! I’ve never scrapped (as in, with actual photos and putting them cutely into an album). I am such a photo taker, that I have thousands of pictures…and no way do I want to tackle that chore. Over the many years of scrapping getting popular (yes, I’m that old), I have firmly refused to scrap with my friends. Sure, I’ll meet you and I’ll stamp cards. That’s my fun way to relax. And then I can use the cards in ministry, for correspondence, and for gifts. I have a very realistic view of how much stuff it takes to rubber stamp at someone else’s place for a few days. A car load. But it’s worth the fun and being able to use the things you need, WHEN you can find them in the mess from the car.

Fast forward to now. As of today, we are only about 7 months from leaving for orientation in Richmond, VA (8 weeks) and then moving to France. Well, I certainly can’t take all of the thousands of photos with me, can I? Ok, let’s put it this way, I can’t afford to take them, and then the apartment we will be in may be the size of a large closet…I’d rather have a bed than photos.

As I emailed my friend, don’t pass out! Now I am actually scrapping some photos – all with the intent of having ONE album to take with us. That means ONLY one album – for our 23 years of marriage, 20 years of children, countless family trips and vacations and events…sigh. Scrapping is getting me to sort pictures and toss the ones of people/places/things I can no longer identify. At this point I have 6 pages neatly scrapped and in place…that’s it. The pictures look great though. Fabulous, dahling, fabulous.

Back to the original question. Do you know how much stuff it takes to scrap? I am finding out. So far, I don’t think as much as stamping. But I haven’t gone to my friends’ house for scrapping and found out what I forgot to bring. Tomorrow, I’m flying the coop with my car full of papers, pictures, and etc. That will be me, hair and papers flapping in the breeze, oozing dreams of a completed album. Come on over, and bring your photos, ya’ hear?


by 1 Comment

It Never Rains, But it Pours

Whew. I must confess to a previously envied and believed fallacy…I used to think that the older we got, the more free time we had. Part 2 of that is, when the kids are grown up, life slows down and you have more free time. NOT.

I think God is getting us ready for being not-settled in any one place for very long. In the last week, we have been to Vancouver (WA), White Pass, Snoqualmie Pass, Seattle, Sea-Tac, Yakima, home (the very least time spent is here)…Miners, Powerhouse Grill, church, McGraphs, Applebees, Starbucks, and the list goes on. We put close to 1000 miles on the car this week in our various and sundry travels.

But mostly we have been on the phone.  For instance, today, I thought I may even get a good start or finish a writing assignment I have (due, uhm, let’s just say, soon!). Instead, I dug out the laundry room, unpacked various totes and bags from the above mentioned mileage and meetings, answered some of my email, wrote some get well notes, played with the cat (that always creeps in somewhere), watered the outside plants (the inside ones are still begging) and connected with people on the phone. Occasionally both phones at the same time. I would say I spent the most of my day talking on the phone.

The good news is that Tay-man, the army dude, located on the east coast, loves to talk to his mom. Even if there is not much to say (but we still take lots of time doing it). The daughter will talk to mom, even if I have to repeatedly call her until she stops texting long enough to pick up. The husband calls regularly to check in and update me on daily news. Occasionally a parent will give me a ring. And if it’s a red star day (like today), the seester in Denver calls and we catch up. To make the day even better, a friend calls. 🙂

So, the the older you get and the kids grow up and leave home you will have more time is not true. What is true, is that priorities change, and people become more important than clean houses. (clean laundry is still vaguely important) Seeing friends and family and making new friends takes precedence over, gasp, even my writing deadline (although I can feel the pressure building to get it done).

I should rename this blog, It Rings, And it Pours, or It Never Stops Ringing…What did we do without landlines (or landmines, as one of my parents calls them) or cell-u-lite phones? Ring, ring, I’m off to answer again. And then work on the writing deadline!


by Leave a comment

Hold on Tight

Have you ever had a song stuck in your brain? I had that song “Hold on tight to your dreams” running through my brain (and out my mouth at weird moments) all day. I had no idea where it came from, but I just kept singing it.

It’s been one of those over busy days. In fact, the next 3 days are like that. I’m looking forward to Monday already! But tonight, I was finishing up some gifts for our Women’s tea, and making homemade chocolates (Grandma Hill’s recipe, yummers, sugar free NOT, maybe I’ll share it later). I decided to call our youngest to check on her. Well, if you know teenagers, they have other things to do besides talk to mom. She barely had time to talk with me – maybe 2 minutes max. Then she had to go and continue with her previous pursuits.

That was a signed, sealed, and delivered invitation to my own personal pity party. Put on the hat and get out the party horn. I had a little whine fest (notice I spelled WHINE, not WINE), thinking of my empty nest, and how the kids have grown up and don’t need me anymore. They are ready for their own life, sans maman (without mom). So what about poor old mom, who is on her way to white hair and dentures, if you ask Peeps. Ok, I confess, I even shed some woe-is-me tears. Just a few. Sheesh. Only the cat seems to need me these days. And the husband.

Then I heard that song. For real, not just in my head. “Hold on tight to your dreams, hold on tight to your dreams, yeah.” You know, it’s a car commercial for a popular brand that is stolen and stripped quite often in our valley. Smell the tires burning and hear the screeching brakes. It was like God put the brakes on my pity party and slapped me back to reality.

“Hello? Are you down there? You need to hold tight to your dreams. Hold tight to my dreams, the ones that I have for you, remember? It’s not over for you. It’s just going to be different. I have some great plans for you, exciting and new adventures. So put away the pity party hat and horn. And hold on tight to my dreams. It’s gonna be fantastic.”

I was reminded of something I recently heard at a Women of Faith conference. When God says Behold, He means be there (be present) and hold on tight, I’m gonna do something great! Hmmmm, behold is used a lot in the Big Book. I better pay attention to that one, be present (it’s way too easy to be somewhere but not be present) and hold on tight, ready for the ride.

So, party is over. Even though I could still sing “It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to…” I won’t (at least for now). I’ll just keep that car commercial song playing instead. “Hold on tight to His dreams, yeah!”

I still have a cat on my lap and a sleeping, snoring, drooling (oops, that’s me) husband. Ain’t life grand?