Jodi's Journal

"I Am Giving You Courageness In Your Heart"

2012-01-27T23:34:00.000-08:00

the first of what I'm sure will be many medical teams

And he's off to Haiti again... My husband Curt just texted me from a plane bound for Port au Prince, Haiti, via JFK airport in New York. He's leading Solid Rock and Forward Edge's first medical team to Haiti. It's so exciting.

When he came back from Haiti in June 2010, Curt told me, "I really wish I could use my medical skills to serve the people in Haiti. A little over a year later, he's doing just that. It's so cool how God breathed life into this vision.

On Tuesday night the team had their packing party. When Curt dropped his 50-pound bag on the garage floor, I was surprised at the amount of emotion and memories it stirred in me. When I went to Haiti, we stuffed those big red bags full of dresses and shoes for the Haitian women. This time, they're filled with medical supplies.

look who's going back to Haiti!

Tonight we crammed around our kitchen table and ate dinner as a family - all seven of us. After dinner, we dropped Katie off at a birthday party and headed to the airport. We arrived way too early - but that's how Curt likes it - and the kids ran around while we waited for Curt's team to arrive. One by one, they trickled through the airport doors armed with expectant smiles and lugging huge red duffle bags. Alli and Paige made friends with all the girls. Grant did man stuff, schlepped bags and bonded with a young guy on Curt's team. When all twenty-five team members had arrived and checked in, we gathered in a huge circle, held hands and prayed.

quick family picture in the scenic garage before we left for the airport

Alli wept when she said goodbye to her Daddy. He's off to change the world and she's gonna miss him. We all will. But we know God has called Curt to this mission. We know He has great plans in store. It's oh-so-exciting.

it was a tough goodbye this time

I asked the kids to write cards for Curt and then we made packets for him to open each day while he's away. I read Alli's (7 1/2 years) note through tears - it's so precious. She wrote:

"Dear Dad,

I have a prayer for you. - Dear God - I hope your son Curt will have a good time in Haiti. God, I know you can help Curt in Haiti because you have mighty hands. God, I put your blessing on Curt in Haiti. God, I give Curt braveness in Haiti. I love you soooo much. Amen.

Dad - I will miss you a lot. You are a very loving, kind, funny man. I love you sooooo much. I am giving you courageness in your heart. Always remember that God is with you and is on your side. Love- Alli"

one last squeeze before we left

Jesus - will you bless this team and give them all "courageness in their hearts" to do the work You have prepared for them? And bring them home safely we pray. Amen.

Jeanne Modesda - Guest Post by Grant Stilp

2012-01-26T09:41:00.000-08:00

one of my favorite picts of G and I

Our son Grant (10 years) is in 5th grade this year. Each week he has a creative writing assignment called a PAW (it stands for something but I can't remember what). He needs to have it drafted by Wednesday to present to his parents for editing purposes. Once we edit the PAW, we sign off on the bottom and he has one day to make the revisions and present a final copy to his teacher.

Grant hates it when I edit his PAW because I "always tear it apart and make too many edits." He's a gifted writer with a knack for procrastinating and throwing things together at the last minute. I love writing, editing and seeing my kids give their best effort. What else can I say? Last night he snuck his PAW to Curt and said, "Whew. I'm glad Mom's busy. She rips my PAW apart every time but you never make any edits." Curt replied, "That's cause she's a writer and I don't know how to spell." But I digress...

Last week's PAW was to choose someone you viewed as heroic and write a letter to the Postmaster General making an argument for why that person should be featured on a postage stamp. Grant's original effort was lack luster, but his second attempt was stellar. He gave me permission to share it on the blog (as they get older you have to ask permission).

Grant with aforementioned rug burn

I would love to post a picture of him holding his report, but three things prevent that.

There's no way he would pose for me holding a picture of his report. He's much too cool for that.
He has a huge rug burn on his chin from practicing The Worm (a breakdancing move) at church. (Don't ask. I don't even understand).
He refuses to stop picking at the rug burn so what could have been gone two weeks ago is becoming a permanent fixture on his adorable little face. I've repeated more than once, "This is one of those cases where I will be REALLY mad if you continue to pick at that and end up with a huge scar on your chin for the rest of your life because you can't practice self control."

I do have to state the obvious here - I love my boy! He's about the goofiest, most-fun, adorable, loving boy on the planet. He brought this picture of Jeanne to school with him to show his class and was genuinely moved by her story.

Jeanne (middle) was in the small group that Beth and I led

Without further ado, here's Grant's post. Nice work Sweet Boy!

Jeanne Modesda

By Grant Stilp

5th Grade

Mabel Rush Elementary School

"Dear Postmaster General,

I believe that Jeanne Modesda should have her face on a postage stamp. She has persevered through many things. When the earthquake hit Haiti two years ago she lost her house - every last possession. She said, "There was not even a cup left for us to take." Her daughter died at the university. Yet, Jeanne still goes into the mountains to schedule weddings for the women that live in the brush.

Jeanne was standing on the roof of the second story of her house. She was planning the construction of the third story when the earth started to shake. Then her house collapsed, with 13 of her 14 children in it. There was nothing left! She knew her kids couldn't have survived. But then she heard her 21-year-old son speak, and within an hour all her kids were out! Her house was gone, but all her kids were alive.

Next she rushed to the university to find her daughter, Aelbellona, who was a teacher there. What she found was devastating. Aelbellona had died in her classroom. She dug Aelbellona out of the rubble. It was a long walk back to Carrefour to bury her.

Even though Jeanne has nothing, she is still giving. She goes with her daughters into the mountains to marry the women that live there. She provides everything needed for a wedding because these women have nothing. Jeanne spends her days rebuilding her house and collecting the dresses and rings for the weddings.

Jeanne Modesda should have her face on a postage stamp because she persevered through many things and yet she still gives."

Little by Little

2012-01-25T13:31:00.000-08:00

A rare snow storm before it switched to non-stop rain

December in Oregon was full of at least three weeks of beautiful winter-like weather. Crisp, clear and cold days were filled with blue skies and bright sunshine. January roared in with a vengance though, bringing with it all the rain we didn't get in December and some extra just for good measure. My training runs the past two weeks have been mostly wet and rainy, but I don't mind running in the rain as long as my visor keeps it out of my eyes.

I want to encourage all my friends tackling fitness goals in the new year to keep pushing forward. This is about the time the excitement wears off and it's oh-so-tempting to look for excuses not to exercise. The gray and the rain alone can suck the life out us, but don't quit. I know it's tough. But you can do it. Here are a few things I've found helpful while I train.

GO ON A TREASURE HUNT. When possible, run outside. Make your run a treasure hunt for beauty. You don't have to look far to find beauty in the ordinary. I've already experienced several miserable training runs. They felt never-ending and horrendously difficult. I decided to switch into treasure hunt mode just to survive the run. When I saw something beautiful, I stopped (it gave me time to catch my breath) and took a picture. Something about stopping to refocus improved my mood and my stamina.

rain can even be beautiful

FIND A TRAINING SCHEDULE. As of today, I have successfully completed three weeks and four days of marathon training, but who's counting? I never knew I could follow the rules so well AND be consistent. There is definitely validity in following a training schedule. I'm glad to finally be practicing what I preach.

checking off those boxes...

FIND A RUNNING PARTNER. I've loved having a running partner following the same training plan. Knowing Carissa is crazy enough to make time to run each day or do speed drills is motivation for me to make sure I keep up with her stride for stride. Since we live forty minutes away from each other, we started meeting in the middle to run together every Monday morning. It's worth the effort and the drive time to start the week off with some encouragement, girlfriend time, and the extra push to tackle that dreaded Monday morning run.

after the Eugene half-marathon last year.

STICK TO THE SCHEDULE. I've been running for five years, but I've never followed a training schedule. I've been tempted to skip or modify the scheduled workouts that are unfamiliar, but I decided I'm going to try them all. The speed work provides diversity and has even been fun. I surprised myself on today's tempo run by logging two miles in a row with the exact same pace - something I don't think I've ever done before. Following the plan has also made the long, weekend runs less daunting and more doable. So far I've felt equipped to tackle each long run, but I may change my tune after Carissa runs me through 14 miles of hilly Forest Park this weekend.

first time doing speed work on the track - so fun!

CHECK YOUR GEAR. When I started this training plan, both my trail shoes and my street shoes still had some life in them. But I've been running so much that now they're miled out. I can feel the effects of shoes that are breaking down in my muscle soreness. Good gear is crucial to not getting injured while you train. A trip to the running store is on the agenda for me tomorrow.

LITTLE BY LITTLE - Carissa texted me this week and said, "Three weeks down. Only 14 more to go." Conquering three weeks of intense training felt great. Seeing 14 more on the chart feels overwhelming. I was tempted to be discouraged. But I was reminded to tackle it little by little. One box at a time on the chart. One foot in front of the other. Won't it feel great when that text reads, "14 weeks down. Only three to go!" Even better, when we have a finish time (hopefully Boston qualifying) after the marathon?

You can do it. Put one foot in front of the other and watch yourself achieve that goal - little by little.

Hanukkah - Guest Post by Alli Stilp

2012-01-24T10:09:00.000-08:00

putting the finishing touches on the poster

Alli's monthly project for December/January was to pick a holiday she doesn't celebrate, research it, and write a report. She also has to give an oral presentation to her class on what she studied. She chose to study Hanukkah and I was excited to study with her.

We checked out books from the library and read them together. We exclaimed over the incredible historical story of how the holiday got it's start and laughed as we tried to pronounce long and unfamiliar Hebrew words. I emailed my friend and former colleague who is Jewish and she gave us a wealth of information about Hanukkah, including adorable pictures of her children and family members lighting the Hannukiah and playing dreidel. If only she lived closer I'd bribe her to make me some latkes and sufganiyots.

After Alli gathered her research, she wrote her report then dictated it to me for typing. She also created a poster to use a visual aid when she gives her presentation to her class. I hope you enjoying learning about Hanukkah (did you know there are three different, correct ways to spell it?) as much as we did.

Without further ado, here's Alli's report.

"History of Hanukkah

There oncewas a person named Antiochus the Fourth who ruled over Israel. He made it a crime to practiceJudaism. Antiochus the Fourth grewangry because the Jews kept worshipping their god instead of Antiochus’s god.Antiochus sent out his army to destroy the Jewish temple. The Syrian Greeksoldiers took over the Jewish temple. The soldiers knocked over the menorah andthe temple light went out.

TheMaccabees which were Mattathias and his son Judah and the little army thatJudah owned fought back. Afterseven long years of fighting, the Maccabees won. But the point of why the Maccabees won was because the realGod was on their side.

When theJewish people got their temple back, they cleaned it up. Judah got some olive oil to light themenorah. They thought it was goingto light for only one night, but God provided it to burn for eight nights. It was a miracle that God provided theextra olive oil.

Celebrating Hanukkah

Hanukkah isa time when Jewish families get together and remember their past. They also exchange gifts and eat food,like potato pancakes (latkes) and jelly-filled doughnuts (sufganiyots). They eat this food because jelly-filleddoughnuts and potato pancakes are fried in olive oil, just like Judah usedolive oil to light the menorah.

Some of thegifts the children receive are pieces of chocolate wrapped in gold foil andother toys. Families get togetherand play a game with a dreidel. Adreidel has four Hebrew symbols on it. It is a wooden top. Thesymbols make a sentence that says, “A great miracle happened there.”

Hanukkahmeans “dedication” in Hebrew. Itis a once a year holiday. It isalso called the Festival of Lights.

The reasonJewish people celebrate Hanukkah is to remember the miracle which was the oliveoil burned for eight nights instead of one. The lights burn on a Menorah, which is a candle holder thathas eight candle spots with an extra helper spot. As they light the candles, they pray.

Hanukkiah

Familiestell a story from long, long ago like about one thousand years ago. All Jewish people have a hanukkiah thatthey light for eight days. Theylight one candle for each night. By the eighth night, all nine candles are lit. They put the hanukkiah in the window sill so people can seeand remember the miracle of the light."

Warm Chocolatey Memories

2012-01-22T00:48:00.000-08:00

Curt and BJ

This post is WAY over-due. In early October, Curt's BFF (best friend forever) - BJ Burns - came to visit us. It was his first trip to Oregon and we were all giddy with excitement that he was coming. The only thing that would have made his visit more fun is if his wife and four awesome kids could have come too.

BJ used to be the high school youth pastor at the church we attended in Illinois. Newly married to Pattie, we could tell even from a distance that the two of them were tons of fun. We made a point to run into them in the church lobby, say hi, and try to act cool and fun even though we were sleep deprived and schlepping around multiple toddlers and babies. Apparently our farce worked enough that Curt and BJ started talking a bit.

One winter night after mid-week small groups, we pulled into the driveway and Curt flipped out. "My Bible!" he cried. "I left it on the roof of the car." He quickly retraced his steps while I put crabby babies to bed. An hour later he came home dejected. He found Bible "barf" along the side of road by the church - notes from me, sermon notes, and bookmarks - but no Bible. With a huge snow storm moving in, he was terrified that his well-worn Bible of 15 years would be lost forever.

I took a turn searching - driving slowly down the country roads in the pitch black looking for a black Bible in the middle of the road. I saw a police man killing time at the nature preserve so I flagged him down and said, "You don't look too busy. Can I borrow your mega spotlight to search for my husband's Bible?" He gave me a "you-want-me-to-do-what?" look, but agreed to one pass-through. We came up empty-handed.

The next morning, with snow dumping inches and hope dead that we'd ever recover Curt's Bible, the doorbell rang. I opened it to BJ, standing on my front step holding Curt's Bible. I forgot that we barely knew him and practically tackled him. The kids and I started jumping up and down, screaming and celebrating. Poor BJ just stood in the doorway, mystified and slightly scared of us. Once we stopped shouting, he told us that he was locking up the church the night before. As he was driving away, he saw Curt's Bible in the parking lot. Knowing that Curt doesn't go a day without reading it, he rescued it and hand-delivered it that morning. And with that Bible rescue, Curt and BJ became BFF's.

fire, TV, playoff baseball, kids, friends

BJ and Pattie started having babies - one right after the other like we did. We realized we lived within a few miles of each other and started having Friday night pizza dinners. Pattie made the best pizza dough and we'd put the kids to bed early, eat pizza, and laugh. Then laugh some more. We joined the same small group at church. Curt and BJ started meeting at the forest preserve half-way between their jobs to eat lunch together and throw the football around. (We all made fun of them.) During playoff baseball, BJ and Curt would drag the TV and antenna from the house into the backyard, build a bonfire, and watch baseball by the fire. They both idolized the David Crowder Band and twice went to concerts even though neither could really afford the tickets or the midnight Taco Bell run on the way home. Our kids thought we were their aunts and uncles. We just did life together. It was a really special friendship.

making memories running chains

In the winter of 2008, things changed. BJ took a job in Appleton, Wisconsin. With great sadness, we packed up our best friends and waved goodbye as they started a new life three hours away. A few months later we packed up our stuff and with great sadness, waved goodbye to all our friends as we started a new life in Oregon 2,000 miles away. The fact that BJ and Pattie were already in Appleton eased the pain of leaving Illinois.

In spite of the distance, BJ and Curt have remained BFF's. They talk on the phone. They text and email. When Curt travels to the mid-west, they grab face time together. When they're together, they act like junior high boys, laughing about potty humor and stalking their favorite band's every move. They pray together for each other and for their marriages. Their friendship is unique - one of those once-in-a-lifetime friendships.

Needless to say, it was a BIG deal when BJ came out to visit in early October. The four days he was here were filled with laughter, laughter, immaturity, and more laughter. All he wanted was to make it into a blog post and it's embarrassing that it's taken me so long to write this. Please forgive me BJ?

"warm Chocolatey memories"

While BJ was here, our son Grant had an away football game in a stadium with real turf. Curt volunteered to run the chains and managed to finagle a spot for BJ to run chains with him. The two of them joked and screwed around on the football field the entire game, having way too much fun and making everyone smile. At one point, they hollered up to me, "We're making memories."

Later that night the kids wanted hot chocolate. We got down the basket of hot chocolate packs and almost fell over when we saw the slogan on the packet. It said, "Making Warm Chocolatey Memories." It became the theme for BJ's time at our house and a mantra that got repeated multiple times throughout each day.

We took BJ for a hike in the Columbia River Gorge. The skies opened the second we stepped out of the car and it poured the entire five miles that we hiked. It was an all day soaking rain with no sign of letting up and Curt was miserable. He whined and complained (some of it serious - some of it to get us to laugh). The few hikers we passed on the trail looked as miserable as we felt so we made it our standard operating procedure for me to say, "Great day for a hike, eh?" When they wouldn't answer or laugh Curt would deadpan, "It looks like it's going to blow over." No one thought it was funny except the three of us and we'd die laughing EVERY time. It never got old.

this was our miserable face

We brought hot chocolate with us in a thermos and drank it in the pouring rain at the top of Larch Mountain. Our fingers were so numb that we spilled it all over while we took pictures and noted aloud that we were "making warm chocolatey memories."

drinking hot chocolate in the rain

The boys ran the cable line down the side of the house, drug the TV outside, built a bonfire, and watched playoff baseball in the backyard. They wrestled with the kids. Watched football and threw the football around in the backyard. We made Friday night pizza only my dough isn't as good as Pattie's. It was just like old times.

ready for the big concert

Their favorite band was in town on their final tour. Of course the boys had tickets to the 9 p.m. show. They started getting ready right after breakfast, and then left at noon to head downtown. As they drove, they asked themselves, "If I was David Crowder visiting Portland, where would I spend an afternoon before a concert?" Curt's guess was (and I quote) - "He'll be at Powell's book store and he'll be in disguise with a hat on to cover his crazy hair."

BJ and his new BFF - David Crowder

They went to Powell's first, walked in the front door, and ran right into David Crowder wearing a hat to disguise his crazy hair. While BJ got his picture with Crowder, Curt texted me blow-by-blow details. I texted back, "Don't embarrass yourselves." They were more excited than 11-year-old girls running into Justin Beiber.

concert vantage point

Curt and BJ stood in line for hours to get front-row "seats" (only it was a standing-room only venue) and BJ texted me pictures of the concert from their up-close vantage point. They stayed out late and stopped at Taco Bell on the way home.

Across the board, BJ's visit was memory making (warm chocolatey ones) and oh-so-fun. I only wish I'd written about it sooner.

What I'm Learning About Forgiveness

2012-01-18T22:52:00.000-08:00

Much of my Bible reading today was about forgiveness. Jesus spends the last part of Matthew chapter 18 teaching on forgiveness. He tells a story of a man (lets call him Fred) who owed billions to a king. His debt was so great that in a lifetime, he could never pay back what he owed. The king calls Fred in and asks him to pay up. Of course Fred can't pay so he falls on his knees and begs for mercy. Miraculously, the king has a change of heart and decides to not kill Fred but to instead forgive his entire debt. Fred leaves the palace completely forgiven and debt free!

You'd think Fred would go home and write the king a thank you note. Maybe even send him a Starbucks gift card or a box of chocolates. But no. On his way home, Fred runs into a buddy (lets call him Tom) who owes him a pittance - maybe ten bucks. He asks Tom for the money, but Tom doesn't have his wallet. He tells Fred, "Sorry man. I don't have it today, but I'll catch you the next time I see you." In that moment, Fred does the unthinkable. He grabs Tom, starts choking him, and demands payment on the spot. Tom falls to his knees and begs for mercy, but heartless Fred refuses and instead has Tom thrown into prison until he can pay the debt.

Word gets back to the king who is livid. He brings Fred back to the palace, rakes him over the coals verbally, and in his anger throws into prison to be tortured until he can pay back the debt (which is never). Jesus concludes the story by saying, "This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother from your heart."

It's easy to read this story and think, "What an idiot. Who behaves like that?" But it doesn't take much reflection to realize that we all behave like this. The parallel Jesus makes to real life is the debt we owe for our sin. There is no way to ever repay the billions of ways we sin against a holy and just God. Without Jesus, we are destined for death. But Jesus takes on human flesh and willingly dies in our place - paying our debt with his blood. If we choose to receive the salvation Jesus offers, we walk out of God's court room completely forgiven and debt free.

You'd think we'd go home, write Jesus a thank you note and spend the rest of our lives serving Him. But in our humanness, we so quickly forget. We run into our nemesis on our way home to write that thank-you. We forget all we've been redeemed from and instead, remember only what they owe us. An apology. Money. Another chance. The pain blurs our ability to think clearly and we find ourselves refusing to extend forgiveness. Forgiveness is a choice. We either choose to forgive. Or we refuse. There is no "I'm going to think about it." We forgive. Or we don't.

Forgiveness is also a command. Jesus makes it clear as he concludes his story that if we want to call ourselves Followers of Jesus, forgiving others is part of the game plan. Jesus empowers you to forgive the person who is supposed to love you unconditionally, but all they give is pain. Jesus empowers you to forgive the person who cheated you. To forgive the person who owes you money. To forgive the person who betrayed you. To forgive the person who abandoned you. Choosing to forgive is one of those "deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow" moments. Obeying is painful, but it's part of following Jesus.

My assigned reading in Genesis continued the theme of forgiveness. It just happened to be the end of the story of Jacob and Esau, two brothers who spent their entire lives fighting and deceiving one another. Their rivalry and bitterness got so bad that Jacob ended up running for his life. Years later (and where I picked up the story today), the two brothers cross paths. Jacob is terrified for his life so he sends his servants ahead of him with loads of gifts to pacify Esau. With his family divided into groups, Jacob fearfully and timidly approaches Esau. But Esau "ran to meet Jacob and embraced him; he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. And they wept." What a beautiful story.

Esau chose to forgive Jacob and his warm reception thawed Jacob's fearful heart. The brothers shared an intimate afternoon reconnecting, but then they went their separate ways. They opted not to travel together or live by each other. The pain from years of dysfunction was too great to allow for frequent interaction. Sometimes forgiving requires distance. Jacob and Esau chose boundaries and put physical distance between them to enable their relationship to function well. They were smart about the way they reconstructed their relationship and they didn't allow a history of pain to be an excuse not to extend forgiveness.

I'm going to bed mulling this over and asking God to examine my heart. I want to proudly bear the name "Follower of Jesus" even if it means taking the hard road. What about you? Is there anyone you need to forgive?

Treasures From the Word Stilp-Kid Style

2012-01-13T14:55:00.000-08:00

It's been so fun for our family to be reading through the Bible together. We get bragging rights for being the first ones done reading that day, hold each other accountable, and talk about what we're learning. Here are some of my favorites so far.

Katie Joy

Katie (9 years old) is tackling the entire Bible this year. She's reading five chapters a day on top of going to school, doing homework, and playing. It's a big time commitment. She has been frustrated a few times already about the necessity of fulfilling the reading assignment each day so it doesn't pile up and become a hopeless task. (This is actually something we're all struggling with - it's hard to find a new rhythm.)

Last Friday we had a pizza and movie night. All the kids invited a friend and it was a full-on party at the Stilp house. Shortly after we started the movie, Katie singled Curt out to talk to him. "Dad I feel torn. I want to watch the movie but I haven't read my Bible yet. I really don't want to have to read ten chapters tomorrow and I know if I watch the movie, it will be time for bed when it's done. I don't want to be rude to my friend, but can I go read my Bible instead?" Seriously? We were blown away.

She came back downstairs 30 minutes later with a huge smile on her face to tell me about her "good choice." Putting God first filled her with obvious joy, left her feeling capable of tackling the challenge the following day, and enabled her to enjoy the rest of the movie night with her friend. Way to go Katie! She's also been highlighting verses she likes and sharing them with me. I'm always surprised at how much the kids actually grasp from what they're reading.

Grant Andrew

Grant (10 1/2 years) is tackling the Bible for a second go-round this year. Last year he jumped around a bit and the lack of structure wasn't very fulfilling. Always the logical one, Grant looked at me last year and said, "Mom. I just don't get it. I already read the entire Bible. Every word. Why do I have to read it again?" It prompted good discussion about how the Word of God is living and active and never returns void. He could read it a million times and learn something new every time. Now that Grant is starting to understand this concept, he's committed to the Bible reading plan for this year. He's been getting up 30 minutes early every school day to read, but hasn't had a lot to say yet about what he's learning. I know he looks forward to the battle scenes and all the detailed architectural plans.

Paige Elizabeth

Paige (5 years) is begging off this year since she only learned to read a few months ago. At the rate her reading is progressing, she'll be joining us next year in the New Testament though. She brings her Bible to church every week though and tries to follow along. She loves memorizing the Bible verses and is starting read her picture Bible more and more. It's pretty cute how even as a five-year-old, she still follows Jesus.

Alli (7 1/2 years) is reading the New Testament. She refused to start reading until she had a paper chart to cross off the chapters on each day. The only problem with this idea was that she didn't get a chart until January 7th, meaning she started the year with a seven chapter deficit. She sat down on Sunday afternoon with her Bible and an audience of baby dolls and read out-loud the first seven chapters of Matthew using drama and character voices. It was the full shabang and it was really cute.

Alli Claire

The next day, Sarah overhead Alli and Grant talking. He was about to ask me what was for dinner. Alli, armed with her new knowledge of the sermon on the mount - particularly the part where Jesus reminds his followers to not worry about what to eat or wear - confidently instructed Grant. "We are not supposed to worry about what to eat or drink, so don't ask mom what we're having for dinner."

How about you? What is God teaching you through His Word? Happy reading.

Psalm 10:14

2012-01-12T14:51:00.000-08:00

My friend and former across-the-street-neighbor, Pete, lost his battle with cancer yesterday. He left behind a wife, two sons in late elementary school/early junior high, and nephews and nieces that he played a big part in raising. His absence leaves a huge hole.

Shortly after I found out about Pete I sat down to read my Bible. Numb emotionally, I pushed through the assigned reading even though I was comprehending little. When I got to Psalm 10 I started paying attention.

David was clearly in a bad mood when he wrote it. My heart resonated with him as he complained about how tough his life was and how it always seems like the good guys lose and the bad guys win. It's how I felt about losing Pete and Krista within two months of each other. NOT FAIR. It would be easy to make the assumption that God doesn't care.

But verse 14 says, "But you, O God, do see trouble and grief; you consider it to take it in hand. The victim commits himself to you; you are the helper of the fatherless." And with that promise, my mood lightened if only a little bit. I can't think of a better helper for Mason and Kyle, now fatherless, than God Himself.

Is Fear Stealing From You?

2012-01-11T14:47:00.000-08:00

I had to weight my gloves down to keep them from
blowing off the track...

Today's required marathon training said "4 x 800." I added "whatever that means" to my calendar when I entered it in. A little research revealed I was supposed to find a track and run four 800's, alternating a lap of walking to cool down in between. I'm supposed to run each 800 in 3 minutes and 30 seconds if I want a chance at achieving my marathon time goal.

The idea of trying something new both fascinated and terrified me. Can I really just walk onto the high school track and start running? What if the school administration kicks me off? What if my kids see me out their school window (it borders the track) and get embarrassed? What if some of the parents see me huffing and puffing and I get embarrassed? What if I'm really slow? What if, what if, what if...

Before I took my first sip of coffee I'd talked myself out of trying. I texted Carissa, "Thinking about subbing out speed work for the bike at the gym. Do you really just go to a school track and start running? Don't they kick you off?" Smart girl that she is, she called me back and gave me a pep talk. She offered the option of doing the speed work on the treadmill - an option she KNEW I wouldn't take since I abhor the treadmill - and then told me she really wanted me to at least try it to see how it felt.

After we talked I decided I would indeed try this thing called speed work. I want to cross off all those little boxes on the marathon training chart and I don't want to cheat. Every mile counts, right?

This morning was uncharacteristically cold and sunny. Vibrant blue skies, bright sunshine, and blow-you-over wind gusts greeted me as I got out of my van. I had full on butterflies-in-my-stomach as I tried to saunter onto the track and act like I knew what I was doing. Timidly, I ran a 1/2 mile warm up then set myself up at an imaginary starting line.

Memories of competing on the 7th grade track team washed over me. I could almost hear my Dad yelling, "Run Tweedle Dee. They're closing on you!" Just like that, I was reminded all over again of why I love running. The cold air turning your nose and cheeks red. The wind blowing you sideways (okay - that part I didn't like but it sounds good). The mental and physical challenge to beat yourself at your own game. The adrenaline that surges as you wait for the gun to go off. The explosive push for the finish that defies explanation but just happens. I could live off that rush all day. It was awesome!

This morning I almost let fear of the unknown rob me of a special treat. What a waste that would have been. Is fear stealing something special from you? Why not get out there and try something new today. You can do it. Happy adventuring!

Headed for the Eugene Marathon

2012-01-07T17:02:00.000-08:00

I just signed up to run the Eugene marathon on April 29th. I've only run two marathons and both times, after I finished, I swore I would never run another one again. A marathon is too far. Too draining. Too challenging.

Last summer my running partner-in-crime, Carissa, asked me if I wanted to train with her to run the Portland marathon in the fall. My quick response was, "No way." On race day I showed up at the 20 mile marker and screamed my head off as Carissa ran past.

waiting at the 20 mile marker for Carissa to appear

I screamed my head off again at mile 26.1. By that point, she looked totally and completely miserable but she was on pace to reach her goal of qualifying to run the Boston marathon. I could hardly stand the suspense and the excitement. As she ran past on sheer determination alone, I found myself thinking, "Why am I standing on the sidelines? I want to be running this with her."

Carissa and I after the finish

I gave Carissa a few weeks to recover from her epically fast race and then I broached the subject of running the Eugene marathon together. We schemed up some grand plans and then left to ask our husbands to endorse them since they both know how to ground us in reality. Curt and I ran through the list of spring events and what my training schedule would look like, and then he wholeheartedly gave me his blessing. Tass and Carissa did the same and we high-fived each other when we knew it was definite yes.

Carissa followed a horrid training program for Portland. She was so successful following this plan that she is strongly recommending we follow this program together. It requires running six days a week with the mileage building each week. The runs are broken down into speed work, hill work, tempo runs, long runs, and pace runs. It also has three training weeks where 50 miles of running is required! If I actually stick to this program, I'll be in the best shape of my life by the time all is said and done.

I have never followed a training program for a race. The closest I've come is researching the suggested distances for the long runs on the weekends, putting those on the calendar as a non-negotiable and making sure I run two more times at some point during the week. I kind of like being a running rebel.

Keeping track of pace, running hills, doing speed work, and "tempo runs" give me a headache. It took me an hour just to enter the schedule into my calendar. I wrote on many occasions "whatever that means" as I copied in the training program, but Carissa assures me that if I just read the directions, I'll understand what to do.

Call me crazy but I am stoked to train for this race. I figure if Carissa can run six days a week, so can I. And maybe if I match her stride for stride in training, I'll actually be able to keep up with her on race day. Maybe that's why I'm saying it out loud - so you guys can hold me accountable to not quit in two weeks when I'm sick of running so much.

sun breaking through the morning fog

My first long run was today. I couldn't help but think as I begrudgingly shoved off to run for an hour and a half, "It's only going to get worse." Surprisingly I felt completely equipped for the required mileage. There just might be value in following the coach's instructions...

country road on my run today

Newberg is so beautiful, especially as seen from the side of the road on a run. I got a new phone for Christmas and have thoroughly enjoyed taking pictures of the beauty that God sends my way when I run. I decided to post these photos on my blog so you can see a huge part of the reason why I run. It will be like bringing you with me on a run. I know I'll need the company.

A Big Day

2012-01-06T21:35:00.000-08:00

Paige on Christmas morning

My daughter Paige has long, golden-blonde hair. Shiny, thick, fast-growing, and tangle resistant, she gets frequent compliments on how beautiful it is. A few months ago when my friend paid Paige a compliment about her hair, she flipped it over her shoulder and confidently declared, "I know. Dunna never tut it." Her hair has become one of the things that defines who Paige is. I truly thought she'd be one of those little girls who just always had long hair.

Krista and her family

But something changed when my friend Krista lost her battle with cancer two months ago. Our entire family was impacted by her death. Concern for Krista's little girls and her husband has laced bedtime prayers. Multiple questions about cancer, treatment, and death have been addressed. Somewhere in the middle of all this, I mentioned Locks of Love to Paige. A non--profit organization, Locks of Love makes wigs for children suffering from cancer and other diseases that cause hair loss. Donations start at a minimum of ten inches of hair.

Paige's hair was flirting with the waist of her jeans, but she's only five years old. Ten inches on a five-year-old body is pretty much her entire back. To cut it would be a huge sacrifice. Her initial response was no way. I think she even repeated, "Dunna never tut it."

that's some long hair

But over time Paige's heart changed. What better way to share than to give your most valued possession? Paige told me a few weeks ago that she wanted to cut her hair - at least ten inches - and give it to Locks of Love. "I know it will make some little girl really happy," she said.

I made the appointment two weeks ago. It gave me time to silently grieve the loss of her beautiful hair and Paige time to make sure she really wanted to go through with it. Yesterday she told several people, "Today is my last day with long hair. I'm donating it tomorrow to give to a child with cancer who needs a wig." This morning at breakfast she said, "I have three big things today: library, donating my hair, and a play date with Paige O." Her enthusiasm enabled me to join in her excitement.

Paige got off the kindergarten bus and we headed out to see Miss Gabby at Down to Details. She pranced into the salon so excited that she could barely stand still. I took a video of her before she got it cut. Her voice is barely audible, but she makes it known just exactly why she's cutting her hair. Gabby measured out Paige's hair and put a ponytail holder at the ten inch mark. I took a video as Gabby chopped and chopped and chopped with her sharp scissors to get through the mass of thick hair. I thought I might cry when Paigey turned around, short hair all choppy, and held up the ponytail of what used to be her long hair with a huge smile on her face.

What a sweet girl

Gabby shaped what was left of Paigey's hair into the most adorable A-line bob. We left the salon and walked down the street to the post office where Paige helped me carefully package up her hair and ship it off to Locks of Love. The library was on the next block so we walked there and Paige picked out five books. We ended our afternoon of fun at Jem 100 - a 1960's ice cream shop. Paige chose a cotton candy ice cream cone to celebrate her generosity.

finished product - pretty cute!

We sat in the red plastic booths and chatted. Paige did another video interview for me (this one you can hear her a little better) and flipped her new hair around proudly. She beamed at me across the table and said, "This has been a big day for me. I shared my hair, I got to go to the library, and I got ice cream as a special treat!"

so proud of you Paigey!

I couldn't help but agree. It was a big day. I'm so proud of you Paigey!

Thoughts on Proverbs 2 - Guest Post by Curt Stilp

2012-01-03T15:19:00.000-08:00

celebrating fourteen years of marriage

My very studly, funny and Godly husband, Curt, is the guest author for today's post. We decided to read the Bible through again this year using Solid Rock's Bible reading plan. This plan is set up to read two chapters from the Old Testament, one chapter from the New Testament, a Psalm and a Proverb each day. By the end of the year, we'll have read the book of Proverbs 12 times, but it's so rich - it never gets old. Wanna join us?

Grant (10 years) and Katie (9 years) are joining us on the journey. Alli (7 years) is tackling the New Testament. It's so fun to read as a family because we can hold each other accountable. An added benefit is the table talk reading together produces. Since we're all reading the same stuff, we dialog about what God is teaching us. Today's post came from Curt's quiet time this morning. It totally blessed me. I know it will bless you too. Happy reading!

Thoughts on Proverbs 2 From Curt Stilp

Honestly, I think Proverbs chapter 2 is my favorite chapter in all the Bible. Serious statement, I know but I just love how it clearly lays out the results of not striving after God and the benefits of a life that searches, looks for and seeks out the God who made us. Below is a little break-down of what this chapter says:

Results of not striving after God: (notice this does not say the results of those who don’t know God or haven’t professed faith in him, it just means that your walk is in-active. Look at the action words in v2-4)

· Lack of understanding and knowledge of who God is and what He is up to in your life

· Lack of wisdom in making decisions

· Lack of protection and guidance

· Confusion

· Perverse ways, crooked paths, dark ways, evil and devious ways

· Easily falling into traps and giving into temptation

· Breaking of your covenants (your word means nothing)

· Death

· Cut off from God’s blessing, gift, provision and promise (The land represents God’s promise to Israel, his gift, provision and blessing to them)

Benefits or by-products of following God whole-heartedly, looking, searching and seeking him out: (this requires daily action)

· Understanding and knowledge of who God is, knowing his heart for you and your life

· Wisdom, success, protection and safety

· Guidance away from decisions that will harm you

· Understanding of the right path to take

· Protection from friendships with people who will lead you in the wrong direction (so important for our kids)

· Protection from an immoral life that leads to death

· The continual gift of God’s promise, provision and blessing in your life (remain in the land)

I just love that chapter. It is so clear that we have a daily choice to be active in our faith or apathetic.

I Thought I Loved Him Then

2011-12-27T17:17:00.000-08:00

Wedding Day with all our Little People

Fourteen years ago today, I married my best friend. I thought I loved him then. If I had only known how our love would change.

Fourteen years of doing life together - day in and day out - has a way of exposing every weakness and highlighting every flaw. There is no "putting your best foot forward" because your spouse sees your best foot, your worst foot, your swollen pregnancy foot, your runner's calloused foot, and everything in between. When you realize there is no place to hide you are forced into intimacy - like it or not.

It took us a while to find our rhythm. Putting two independent minded people together and saying, "submit to each other, love each other and respect each other" can be a recipe for disaster. We fought. We cried. We got flustered. We threw our hands up in the air and said, "I don't know how to do this!" For us, marriage was a big learning curve.

coming out of the water of my first triathlon ALIVE!
July 2010

But God is faithful. Through thick and thin, He patiently led us, guiding our steps and teaching us how to interact in ways that honored Him and each other. The more we practiced loving and respecting each other, the easier it got. Things that would have sent us into a full-on fight in the early years barely raise an eyebrow now.

We sure do laugh a lot - October 2010

Through it all, we've been able to laugh. At our circumstances. Sometimes at each other. Definitely with each other. Laughter is truly medicine for the soul.

There's something about walking through trials with someone that strengthens your bond. The times on the mountaintop when life is easy and good are memorable and fun. But the times we've spent in the valleys - relational conflict, sleepless nights, years of changing diapers, financial stress - are the times that draw us closer together. When we come out the other side, our dependence on each other and our faith in God is greater, deeper and stronger.

backpacking the Mt. Jefferson wilderness
Carl Lake - July 2011

My man has seen me at my prettiest. My most successful. My strongest. And he loves me still. My man has also seen me at my most vulnerable. My weakest. My ugliest. And he loves me still.

Ten year anniversary

We're fourteen years into this thing called marriage. Our marriage has outlived our mattress. Our four kiddos are growing up to follow Jesus. They bring huge doses of humility to us and life, volume and joy to our family. Our love grows deeper, thicker, stronger, and more resilient every day.

Thank you Jesus for fourteen years of marriage and the gift of a husband perfectly suited for me. I'm confident that fourteen years from now, I'll look back on this post and think, "I thought I loved him then..."

October 2011

What Do You Have to Be Afraid Of?

2011-12-26T14:50:00.000-08:00

I've been studying the book of Isaiah over the past few months. It's rich with the depth of God's love for His people and His passion for justice. God will establish justice - holding the wicked accountable and bringing salvation to the righteous - yet He always adds that His desire is to extend mercy and forgive. Isaiah 55:6-7 sum this idea up - "Seek the LORD while He may be found; call on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon." Isn't that encouraging?

Isaiah chapter 51 talks about how the story ends - when God brings everlasting salvation to His people and makes everything new. It offers hope both for this life and for the future. Listen to what God has to say. These are excerpts from the first sixteen verses that really spoke to me.

“Listen to me, you who pursue righteousness and who seek the LORD: ⁴ “Listen to me, my people; hear me, my nation: Instruction will go out from me; my justice will become a light to the nations. ⁵ My righteousness draws near speedily, my salvation is on the way, and my arm will bring justice to the nations. The islands will look to me and wait in hope for my arm. ⁶ Lift up your eyes to the heavens, look at the earth beneath; the heavens will vanish like smoke, the earth will wear out like a garment and its inhabitants die like flies. But my salvation will last forever, my righteousness will never fail.

⁷ “Hear me, you who know what is right, you people who have taken my instruction to heart: Do not fear the reproach of mere mortals or be terrified by their insults. ⁸ For the moth will eat them up like a garment; the worm will devour them like wool. But my righteousness will last forever, my salvation through all generations.”

¹² “I, even I, am he who comforts you. Who are you that you fear mere mortals, human beings who are but grass, ¹³ that you forget the LORD your Maker, who stretches out the heavens and who lays the foundations of the earth, that you live in constant terror every day because of the wrath of the oppressor, who is bent on destruction?

¹⁴ The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread. ¹⁵ For I am the LORD your God, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— the LORD Almighty is his name. ¹⁶ I have put my words in your mouth and covered you with the shadow of my hand— I who set the heavens in place, who laid the foundations of the earth, and who say to Zion, ‘You are my people.’”

It's so easy to forget God when we're going through a trial or difficult times. Sometimes we try to push through it on our own strength and then are surprised when we fall short. Other times we curl up in a ball and give up. But God says, "HELLO? Remember me? I am YHWH. The I AM. Everything that I AM, I will be to you. Comforter. Protector. Creator. Almighty. Rescuer. Provider. Abba- Daddy. What do you have to be afraid of?"

Psalm 27:12 says, The LORD is my light and salvation - whom shall I fear? The LORD is the stronghold of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?"

God says to you, "I've got it covered. I've got your problems, your fears, your pain. I cover you with the shadow of my hand. What do you have to be afraid of?"

Christmas Fun 2011

2011-12-22T22:49:00.000-08:00

Christmas break so far has been stellar. (I almost hesitate to say that out loud.) When the kids were little I couldn't fathom the idea of a two-week school break, let alone kids that stayed up late or slept in. But alas - time moves faster than we think it will and we've arrived at that sweet place of trading the rigorous, structured daily routine of school days for two whole weeks of unstructured play.

The kids have been staying up late and (GASP!) sleeping in until 8 a.m.! We've tried to do something fun each day. There has been a good representation of kids monitoring everyone's behavior except their own and we've all had moments of having to choose a good attitude, but overall the Christmas spirit has descended on our house. My overwhelming feeling the past few days has been, "It's loud, chaotic, and at times frustrating, but I am one blessed mama. I wouldn't have it any other way."Here's a glimpse of some of the fun things we've been up to.

Katie dancing at half time

Friday, December 16th - School's out! Paige and I attended an hour long sing-a-long to finish the school day. Grant and Alli rode the bus home because the bus driver was passing out candy and they didn't want to miss out. Paige and I dropped Katie off at Holiday Dance camp - a 5 hour camp where hundreds of little girls learned a choreographed dance routine to the song All I Want for Christmas is You and then performed it at half-time of the high school basketball game.

An hour later, Paige and Alli left for a Polar Express party. Jammy-clad and holding their golden ticket, they excitedly knocked on their friend's door and waved goodbye as they headed in for a night of movie watching, popcorn eating, and Christmas celebrating.

Don't feel bad for Grant. He thoroughly enjoyed having Mom and Dad all to himself!

Saturday, December 17th - I went for an 11 mile run with my two running buddies, Carissa and Tanya, to start the day. It was crisp and cold and we managed to bang out a great pace too. Merry Christmas to us! Curt was on call. It was also his company Christmas party but we all were so busy relaxing and enjoying a quiet day at home that we completely spaced the party. When we remembered two hours before, it was too late to pull it together. We opted instead for a quiet family night at home that ended up being very enjoyable.

Girls at the Nutcracker Ballet

Sunday, December 18th - We've been married long enough to outlive our mattress. How cool is that? When we went to buy a new one, we spotted a cute bunk bed. Paige (who is quickly approaching 6 years old) was still sleeping in a toddler bed so buying bunk beds was long overdue. We left the store with a delivery date for a new mattress AND a new bunk bed. I don't know who was more excited - Alli and Paige, or Curt and I.

Later that afternoon, the girls winterized their flower girl dresses from this summer and we headed to the Nutcracker Ballet. A Christmas gift from my sweet friend Kelly, we were blown away that Newberg could put on such a classy production. The sets were beautiful, the dancing elegant and advanced, and the baby fairy dancers adorable. The girls were on the edge of their seat the entire time and danced their way through the lobby during intermissions.

New bunk beds

Monday, December 19th - the kids played with their friends from church that they don't see very often. I unexpectedly had two hours to myself so I went for a run and ended up getting a personal best for time. Super fun! The kids had a group sleep over in the toy room, stayed up late, and slept in the next morning.

Tuesday, December 20th - we played with more friends from church that live in Tigard. While they were here, the bunk beds were delivered and set up. Who knew you could play so much on a bed?!?! Todd, one of our college "kids," came over for dinner which is always a treat. That night Alli and Paige slept in their new beds while Grant and Katie built and slept in a fort in Grant's room.

Paige scootering

Wednesday, December 21st - The weather has been amazing this month! Colder than usual (but still not really cold) and dry (very unusual for Oregon), it's been great playing outside weather. The kids rode their bikes to the park (I ran) and then we played at the park. Grant and I ran football drills and then we got all the neighborhood kids together to play Sharks and Minnows. It was loads of fun to do that in the middle of what should have been a school day.

Grant scootering

The evening was filled with a church Christmas party just for kidsin kindergarten through fifth grade. Three hours of unlimited candy andsweets, gingerbread house making, games, and a Solid Rock style Price is Rightgame show made 200 kids VERY happy. Grant's name got called toparticipate in the game show and he did the worm across the stage before takinghis place. When asked WHY, he said, "Because I had everyone'sattention and it's funny."

Thursday, December 22nd - Today I woke up (late) to the kids arguingover whether they should play Wii or watch a movie. AWESOME choices(although I would have preferred no arguing) given that a few days ago we wererushing to the bus stop at that exact time.

me baking, only that's a gingerbread house the
kids made and not what I was baking.

While I baked Christmas goodies to deliver to the neighbors, thekids played together. ALL day. They rode bikes and scootersoutside. Delivered plates of goodies to the neighbors and practicedcaroling. At one point they were playing church. Grant was thekid's worship leading and was practicing his guitar to an audience of babydolls that the girls lined up. The girls were putting on an adult churchservice in the play room, complete with mood lighting during worship. Myheart was so full. I knew the harmony wouldn't last forever (I keptwaiting for them to start arguing over who would be the preacher), but I sureenjoyed eavesdropping on their play.

Alli riding her bike

Katie bike riding

Good friends joined us for dinner and their son is sleeping over ina fort he and Grant built. Life isfull and life is good.

Thank you Jesus for coming to earth so many years ago. Yourbirth changed everything and I am so grateful!

Book Review of "Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania" by Melanie Dobson

2011-12-20T08:47:00.000-08:00

Jodi and Melanie arriving in Haiti

It’s hard for me to write objectively about Melanie’s worksince she’s one of my best friends. I’d be her biggest fan even if her writing stunk. Fortunately, she’s really talented so Idon’t have to lie about her work. WHEW! This book inparticular will always be a favorite because I started it on a plane headed toHaiti for a mission’s trip. I readit laying in the hot sun by the Caribbean Sea with Melanie sun bathing next tome at the end of a life-changing week in Haiti. I finished it on the planesitting next to Melanie as we returned home to our families. Who gets to do that?

Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania is one of those stories that makes you scratch yourhead and ask, “People really lived like that?” Melanie’s meticulous researchlaid the groundwork for a fascinating history lesson. I couldn’t believe the customs that dictated the way theMoravian people lived. Spouseswere chosen by lot, forcing members of the society to at times marry someonethey’d never even spoken to. Oncemarried, they lived their lives out in separated quarters. I definitely wouldnot have lasted long as a Moravian!

I’m not a huge fan of pie-in-the-sky romance novels, whichis one reason I love Melanie’s stories. In Love Finds You in Nazareth,Pennsylvania, Melanie tells an authentic and poignant love story of acouple tackling big marital issues. She doesn’t gloss over real-life issues like lust, vulnerability, andcommitment. Christian and Susanna,the main characters, battle for their love to survive. Their love grows through the action, not romantic feelings, ofconsciously choosing to honor their marriage vows.

Love Finds You inNazareth, Pennsylvania also has an underlying story of faith tested throughtrials. Melanie writes eloquentlyabout the tension that exists in deep faith. How do we balance waiting for God to speak directly withmoving forward on our own based on common sense and the Holy Spirit’s leading? I found my faith challenged as Ireflected on the different ways that God speaks and directs our steps.

now you know what the cover looks like

You may not have the chance to turn the last page of Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvaniaand have the author ask, “Well, did you like it?” But I can guarantee that you won’t regret reading this storyof love, history, and faith. Happyreading.

Merry Christmas 2011

2011-12-19T00:32:00.000-08:00

All professional photos courtesy of Photography by Elise

It's hard to summarize a year to fit on one page, but this is what I came up with for our annual Christmas letter. Merry Christmas to you and yours! Love- Jodi

~~~~~ ****** ~~~~~

December2011

MerryChristmas! 2011 has been a busy and fun year. We hope this letter gives you a glimpse into what we’ve beenup to. Feel free to track ourfamily more specifically at www.jodistilp.blogspot.com, and send us your updatestoo!

Sarah - 22 years

Sarah - We thought we were done having children, but we’re pleased to introduce our new addition – Sarah Lynn Wilmot. Sarah (22 years) teaches 5^th grade math and is pursuing her Masters in Education. She moved in with us in May and immediately became part of the family. We are blessed to have her for as long as she decides to stay.

Grant - 10 1/2 years old

Grant (10 years, 5^thgrade) is in his final year at Mabel Rush Elementary. According to Alli, “Grant is hilarious and will eatanything.” He wants to be aprofessional skateboarder, rock star, wildlife biologist or rocket scientistwhen he grow up. He samples eachcareer through his favorite activities – skateboarding, leading 2^nd/3^rdgrade worship with his guitar, backpacking, and building Legos. Grant’s football team went undefeatedthis year, winning the championship game on my birthday. Go Tigers! Grant saved $100 of his own money to help pay his way to hisfirst week of overnight camp. While there, he reaffirmed his decision to follow Jesus and said it was“definitely worth every penny.”

Kaitlin - 9 years

Katie (9 years, 4^thgrade) is gaining confidence as a student and leader. Creativity flows through her veins and she has composed manyshort stories, won a coloring contest, and drawn some awesome pictures. I keepasking her, “Did you trace that?” Inline with her creativity, her current career aspirations are “a game boardinventor or a shampoo model.” Aquiet but fierce competitor, Katie embraced softball with gusto, earning thenickname Wheels for her speed running bases. She started dancing again this fall and was so graceful andelegant in her winter performance. Kaitlin diligently read the entire New Testament this year and willoften share with us what God is teaching her.

Alli - 7 1/2 years

Alli wants you to know “I’vegrown up. I’m seven. I’m pretty sure you can’t believe it.My behavior has changed a lot. I’m so happy I’ve had a great year in secondgrade.” (We’re so happy too!) Alli’s writing has taken off and she hasproduced some hilarious and touching work. Softball didn’t move fast enough for Alli. She picked a lot of outfield grass andmade a lot of infield mud pies, but she loved talking to the other team whileshe ran the bases. This fall Allitried and loved choir, especially the performances where she really hammed itup. Alli’s heart-felt prayers arepure, raw and intimate. Her greatestChristmas wish is “a Haitian baby doll so I can tell people I adopted her.”

Paige - 5 3/4 years old

Paige (5 years) startedKindergarten this year. She has aquiet confidence in herself and loves everything about school. She is already reading fluently, somethingI still can’t wrap my brain around. Paige kept us laughing with her quick wit and her five-year-old phrasing. In the past year, she’s declaredherself “an owl expert,” worn “the only pair of jeans available,” and declared,“Mom – I’m going healthy” after studying the food pyramid. She has definite opinions about randomthings like clothes (we see her favorites over and over) and her hair (“dunnanever tut it”). Paige loves dancingand abandoned all inhibitions during her first showcase. Way to shake it Paigey!

Curt on his first trip to Haiti

HAITI – In April, Curt led a teamto Haiti building several homes for displaced Haitian families. He plans to return in January, thistime leading a medical team. InOctober, I joined a team of women from our church in leading a conference forHaitian pastor’s wives. Our kidsare learning Creole and begging for their turn to visit Haiti. We know God will continue to intertwineour family’s hearts with the Haitians’.

Me with one of the kids in Grace Village

Curt and Jodi - about to celebrate 14 years of marriage

Carl Lake - where we backpacked

Curt has worked harder this yearthan ever before. He has handledthe pressures of two jobs, house church leader, mentoring, fatherhood, husbandduties, and multiple mission trips with finesse and grace. He even made time to train for yetanother Olympic-distance triathlon. It makes me tired just writing all he’s done. I (Jodi) spent alot of time writing, including weekly fitness posts for our church. It was my first time writing for aspecific audience on a deadline and it married several of my passions –encouraging women, running, and Jesus. I ran three half marathons and was also able to run Hood to Coast forthe first time. Dubbed the Motherof All Relays, this 200 mile, 12-person relay race starts at Mt. Hood andfinishes on the Pacific Ocean. Itwas epic!

Thissummer Curt and I took a four-day backpacking trip in the Mt. Jeffersonwilderness. We fell in love allover again with each other and with our Mighty Creator. Our trip was NOTHING that we planned and EVERYTHINGthat we needed. A verse God hasbeen teaching Curt and I this year (and particularly on this trip) is Proverbs16:9. It says, “In his heart a man plans his course but theLord determines his steps.” It’s our prayer that your upcoming year will beeverything you need, even if it’s nothing like you planned.

With All Our Love,

Curt, Jodi, Grant, Katie, Alli, Paige and now Sarah

I Am Thankful - Guest Post by Alli Stilp

2011-12-09T15:19:00.001-08:00

photo courtesy of Photography by Elise

Alli (2^nd grade – 7 years old) had to write areport for school titled I Am Thankful. She actually took her time and used herbest handwriting. It looked soun-sloppy that I honestly thought she brought home the wrong paper. But no. It was really hers. Here’s what she wrote without corrections for spelling or word choices. Shemelts me.

“I am thankful for family mebers that I can love on. I’m also thankful for friends to haveplaydates with. I am reallythankful for food to fill up my belly. I’m also thankful for school to fill my brain up with good stuff likewriting & math & reading. I’m thankful for toys to have fun with & play with. I love giving thanks to God & to myparents.

Sincerely,

Alli”

What are you thankful for today? Why not write it down?

Lavish Love

2011-12-08T13:36:00.001-08:00

Thoughts from Isaiah55

I was reading Isaiah 55 this morning and found myselfhighlighting large portions of the chapter. As I went back over these rich verses a theme jumped out atme that I missed the first time through.

God offers so much to me – none of it deserved. But much of what He offers hinges on myaction or inaction. Read theseverses (2-3, 6-7) and look for action words.

“Listen, listen to me, andeat what is good, and your soul will delightin the richest of fare. Giveear and come to me; hear me that your soul may live. I will make an everlasting covenantwith you, my faithful love promised to David. Seek the LORDwhile he may be found; call on himwhile he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man histhoughts. Let him turn to the LORD and he will have mercyon him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon.”

Listen. Delight. Give ear. Come. Hear. Seek. Call. Forsake evil. Turn to the LORD. All of those are actions that depend on me. And why would I put forth all that effort?

Because by doing this my soul will live. Almighty God promises an everlastingcovenant with me. He offers Hisfaithful love. He extendsundeserved mercy. He pardons mefrom the death penalty I earned and sends His Son to be executed in myplace. Now that is lavish love.

She's a Real Beaut Clark!

2011-12-05T21:49:00.001-08:00

This weekend the Stilp Family determined to get theirChristmas Spirit on in full force. Curt’s favorite Christmas movie is National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. While I can’t fully endorse it because it’s crass in a fewspots (our kids aren’t allowed to watch it yet), I can say that it’s hilariousand it gets funnier the more you watch it. Curt quotes it all year round, but during Christmas themovie quotes never stop.

We live in a neighborhood that would make Clark W. Griswold(the main character) proud to be a part of. For the second year in a row, the neighbors have planned andhosted a Lighting Ceremony where they close the two cul-de-sacs and have a bigparty complete with hot cocoa, Santa, and carolers. The big lighting reveal wasSaturday night and neighbors have been preparing for weeks.

the kids by the tree - aren't they cute?

The exterior of the Stilp house is consistently subpar by ahuge ratio. We had a few strandsof outdoor lights when we moved in but they kept dying and we didn’t botherreplacing them. Two weeks ago Curttook advantage a non-rainy day and hung up the remaining strands. We stood in the street andlaughed. To say it was patheticwould be an understatement. Ourneighbors good-naturedly ridiculed our Charlie Brown attempt at Christmas cheerand even offered to loan us lights from their excess supply.

We decided, in the words of George Castanza from Seinfeld, it was “time to take it up anotch!” Friday night we made a late-in-the-game 4^th quarter surgeand furiously began hanging the new lights we purchased and the charitablecontribution lights from the neighbors. We worked until after dark and came up with a plan to finish the outsidedecorating on Saturday morning AFTER we got the family Christmas tree.

family photo

We woke to a crisp, cold and foggy morning. I put on my “Griswold Family Christmas”t-shirt in honor of going to get the tree. Over breakfast we entertained Sarah with stories of visitsto the Christmas Tree Farm gone awry and laughed about how in spite of hiccupsevery time, it still is an annual tradition we would never dream of giving up. The day looked promising.

However the problems started early. Our kids dressed themselves like it wassummer and then protested when we asked them to wear actual coats andboots. We spent twenty minutes dealingwith bad behavior and pulled out of the driveway with smoke coming from our earsand mumbling empty threats under our breath.

Just before we arrived at Jorgensen’s Tree Farm we drove out of the fog and into bright sunlight. The normally muddy ground was still frozen and unsloppy. Curtverified the price was really $20 for any tree on the lot – no matter the size– and we set off to find THE perfect tree. It looked like the day was about to redeem itself.

She looked smaller in the field

Early into our search the light from heaven shone on amonster tree. Perfectlysymmetrical and round, Curt fell instantly in love. I mentioned that it looked a little large, but Curt reassuredme that she was perfect and that every tall tree comes with some girth.

He and Grant all but disappeared as they shimmied under thetree to find the stump and start sawing. Grant was bored within sixty seconds and left to find a fort, leavingCurt by himself to cut her down. Minutes passed. The onlysound coming from under the tree was labored breathing, the scrape of the sawagainst the trunk, and frequently increasing mumbling.

The girls started bickering and complaining. Curt hollered from under the tree,“It’s all part of the experience Honey” and went back to sawing. We took anadventure walk to pass the time and give Curt some space. When we circled back he was still sweating under the tree. I heardhim mumble on more than one occasion, “This is the LAST time we’re doingthis. Next year I’m buying a treeoff a lot.”

never so grateful to see a chainsaw!

We were there so long the ground thawed out and it gotmuddy. My offers of help were metwith disapproving grunts. FinallyI whispered to Sarah, “Why don’t you go back down to the barn and ask the guysif they have another saw? We couldbe here all day.” A few minuteslater our Knight in Shining Armor arrived to save the day. He rode a four-wheeler with a trailer,carried a chain saw, and laughed when he saw the tree. “Wow! That’s a big one!”

Once the tree was down, we assessed her in all herglory. She was 17 years old,measured 12 feet tall, and had a stump diameter of 8 ½ inches! Curt, in a muchbetter mood now that he was off the ground and out of the mud, admired his treeand declared, “She’s a real beaut Clark!”

The hired help snickered and gasped when we pulled into thebaling area. There was no hope ofgetting this gal through the baler! They looked around for a pickup truck to load her into and then laughedout loud when we pointed to the van. Those boys – all six of them – muscled our tree that weighed at least200 pounds on top of the van. Shedwarfed the van with multiple feet of tree hanging off both the front andback. Everyone was laughing.

who knew the shirt would be so prophetic?

front windshield view

I posed for pictures in front of the van with my GriswoldFamily Christmas t-shirt and paid our $20 for the tree. We corralled our kids into the vanthrough the only door that we could close without also capturing part of the tree. The view out the front windshield washilariously obstructed. Curt sliddown in his seat so he could see out the window and slowly pulled out onto thehighway. We considered turning onthe hazards and driving SLOWLY home, but the old gal seemed to be holdingsteady, tree needles flying off as we picked up speed. Who needs a baler?

side mirror view, and yes that's part of the
tree stuck in the door

People in cars coming the opposite direction laughed andhonked, thoroughly enjoying a movie being re-enacted before their eyes. Just as one driver gave us a big thumbs-up,the twine securing the tree to the van loosened. We all watched in comic horror as our tree slid off the topof our van, bounced down the highway and rolled into the ditch. Curt pulled into the nearest driveway(about an eight of a mile down the road) and we sat in disbelief. Did that really just happen? Youcouldn’t write a movie script like this!

Curt took the kids to go home and get the trailer. Sarah and I stayed with the tree. Our job was to somehow get the treefrom the highway ditch to the driveway for safe loading into the trailer whenCurt arrived. We couldn’t stoplaughing which complicated our attempt to coordinate our push-pullefforts. I ended up on my booty onthe side of the road before we figured out a system that worked.

why didn't we think of the trailer in the first place?

Our neighbors were out putting the finishing touches ontheir decorations as we rolled into our driveway. They all took turns gawkingand laughing. “She’s a real beautClark” was heard often throughout the afternoon.

The fun didn’t stop once we got home. Our existing tree stand was way toosmall, so I had to go buy a new one. Curt was 90% finished hammering the new stand into the baseof the trunk when he realized it was missing a piece. Back to the store I went.

Getting the tree in the house was another adventure. Our front door was much too small soCurt and I had to drag her up our side yard, wedge her through the gate in ourfence, and carry her across the back yard. We pushed, pulled, tugged, prayed, wedged, and wiggled herthrough the sliding glass door, lugged her down the hall, and unceremoniouslydumped her in the living room. Hertip scraped the top of the ceiling and her girth soaked up the majority ofspace. It took Sarah, Curt, and Iworking together as a team to shimmy her back into the corner.

She's a real beaut Clark!

Somehow Curt managed to finish our exterior lighting systemin time for the big party. At the partya friend of mine overheard the story of our day and laughed. She went on to tell me that her family hadbeen to Jorgensen’s Tree Farm an hour after we left and chosen a largetree. The owner commented, “That’sa big tree but not as big as the one that just left with another family. It was one of the biggest we’ve soldthis year and they put it on top of their van. I sure hope they made it home safely.”

Curt is putting the finishing touches on our tree as I writethis. (Come over if you want to see her in real life). It smells and looks like aforest in our home. No squirrelsor chipmunks have emerged from the branches (thank God) but three very lethargicbees have flown out from the depths. We are praying there isn’t an entire nest waiting to wake up, but onlytime will tell. We may haveoverdone it this year, but “she’s a real beaut Clark!”

I Need Your Help

2011-11-30T08:24:00.001-08:00

Hello Friends and Readers. I was invited to attend a writers meeting last night. When I got the invite, I thought it was a mistake. But no - it was addressed to me. We went around the room sharing what we write, why we write, and our journey to being "A Writer."

I felt so out of place and inexperienced. I have never taken a writing class. I never wanted to be a writer growing up. The thought of researching a book terrifies me. I really don't even read that much, even though I like it, and I can't remember the last time I've been to the library. I didn't even realize I knew how to write until you all started saying, "Hey, I actually like your Christmas letter. You're a good writer."

It's about time I took my writing seriously. I'm in the process of revamping my blog and trying to make it more professional and easier to use. What you're looking at is a pre-designed Blogger template that I don't love but I like better than the last format. I want a simpler, more stream-lined blog with less craziness and more calm.

Will you do me a favor and comment (yes - comment even if you have to create a gmail account to sign in) on why you read my blog? What do you like? What keeps you coming back? What don't you like? What could change? I'd love your feedback on formatting, frustrations with how the site works, and stuff you'd like to see changed. What do you want more of? Less of?

Oh and I need some help with a title. When I started this blog, it was on a whim with very little thought put into a purpose or a title. I'm not emotionally attached to "JoJo's Journal" so I'd love some input on a title too. Maybe something that more clearly captures the essence of this blog, but what exactly is that?

This is obviously a work in progress, so please help me. I value your feedback! Love- Jodi

I Will Not Forget

2011-11-26T15:53:00.001-08:00

HappyThanksgiving. The Holiday Seasonis officially upon us. Our familywas talking last night about how fun this time is. Grant (10 years) said, “My favorite thing about theChristmas season is the spirit in the air. People are just in a good and joyful mood and it’s so muchfun.” We celebrate family,friendships, togetherness, tradition, giving. What’s not to love?

But as Ireflected on all I am thankful for, it dawned on me that not everyone loves theHoliday Season. For those who haveno family or who have strained relationships with their family, this season candredge up bad memories or wishful thinking of what should be. For my friend who just lost his wife tocancer, this season magnifies the depth and breadth of his loss and hisgrief. For my single friends wholong to have a spouse to share this time with, it can bring up discontentmentand feelings of isolation. To myfriends struggling to pay their bills and losing their homes, this seasonmagnifies their helplessness. Orwhat of my Haitian friends who live every day without electricity, runningwater and permanent homes?

It’s easyto feel alone, isolated, and abandoned by people and by God. I read Isaiah 49 yesterday and wastouched again by God’s intense love, protection, and possessiveness of His mosttreasured creation – us.

If you areone of those people who dread the Holiday Season, be encouraged. This is what the LORD says... (Isaiah49:13, 15-16, 23, and 26)

“For the Lord comforts His peopleand will have compassion on his afflicted ones…. Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have nocompassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;Then you will know that I am the LORD; those who hope in me will not bedisappointed. Then all mankind will know that I, the LORD, am your Savior, your Redeemer, the Mighty One ofJacob.”

You are notalone. Your family may forget you,but God says, “I will not forget you!” May you feel His personal love and protection over your life thisHoliday Season.

Lovely - Guest Post by Amanda Jones

2011-11-23T15:16:00.001-08:00

Today’s post iswritten by my sweet friend Amanda Jones. We met during all the training meetings for our trip to Haiti. After one summer meeting, we stood inthe parking lot and talked for an hour. It felt we were immediate kindred spirits. Amanda is LOVELY. She is flawed. She, likeall of us, bears scars from her past. She is redeemed. Forgiven. Beautiful. Talented. Smart. Kind. Loving. Sweet. Amanda is a passionate Jesus-follower. Amanda became mysister over the past few months. Iknow you’ll love her too! Learn more about Amanda at her new blog www.ajfallingintograce.blogspot.com

Lovely

By Amanda Jones

A fewweeks ago as a team of ladies and I jetted from airport to airport onour way to Haiti I poured through the pages of a book loved by Christian womeneverywhere, Captivating. For years I have listened to ladies justcherish the sweet secrets of every women's heart that unfold in the pages ofthat book. But to be honest, I had never really read it. I mean I had flippedthrough the pages here and there. I had from time to time grabbed a verse orread a chapter that seemed needed at the time. I figured that a long dayor two of journeying to a foreign country where our mission was to love andteach women was a great chance to see what I had been missing. What atimely opportunity. If you have read the book you know that more than a fewtimes the author highlights the desire of every woman's heart tobe seen as LOVELY.

When I was graciously broughtback to the Lord five years ago and began going to church again, I remember lookingaround and thinking, “Wow these women are so beautiful.” At the time I believed it was because they had done things right -not at all like me. Ihad stumbled so many times. The idea that I could even begin to buildrelationships with these women seemed impossible. I remember one night going home and weeping to my mother,"I will never be like these girls. They never laugh too loud or cry too hard, they never say thewrong thing. Surely they have never fallen away or made mistakes that seemed toswallow them up." I thought they were perfect and I wasn't blind tothe fact that I was far from that. But what I didn't know is these womenI looked up to, revered, and admired, were not perfect. They were Lovely.

Theyears progressed and the Lord blessed me with friendships, sisters, and womenin my life that would open up their lives with vulnerable courage and begin toshow me their hearts. I began to see the truth. These were not women that hadsomehow evaded the trials of life. They had stories. They hadhurts and wounds, pains and failures just like me. These women were not perfectat all.

The most beautiful women I have been blessedto come to know over the years are not the ones that always have the rightanswer, dress size, or eloquent speech. Don't get me wrong, they work hard, they seek the Lord to becomemore like Him, and take care of their bodies and blessings they have beengiven. But, the most beautiful women I know are the ones who like Esther, wentinto the palace of the King and were washed clean.

Beauty shines throughtheir love, healing, and surrendered lives. The image of God is what makestheir eyes sparkle. Their smiles drawyou to them. They are strong and vulnerable, courageous and dependent onthe Father, beautiful and unashamed. This loveliness does not only shinethrough women in my town, my church, or my family. This is a loveliness I havebeen blessed to see in some of the ugliest situations and horrificcircumstances. In far-off countries like Haiti where the world has literallycrumbled around them.

They reflect the Lord’s…

Wisdom and Kindness

Tenderness and Innocence

Heart For the Broken

Surrender

Life!

Joy!

Love.

Thank you Lord for allthe women who have opened up their lives to share their loveliness with me.

With all my heart,

Amanda

Family Tree Report - Guest Post by Alli Stilp

2011-11-22T17:01:00.001-08:00

Alli (7 years - 2nd grade) had a Family Tree monthly report to write and create this month. I loved her written report and asked if I could share it with you. She said, "Sure. It's not like it's private information. Everyone in my class gets to hear it." I typed up what she wrote, so spelling is corrected, but grammar is exactly as she said.

Family TreeReport

By Alli Stilp

Seven Years Old

2^nd Grade– Mrs. Fox

November 22, 2011

My Mom (Jodi Stilp)

I love my Mom so much. She is awesome. She hasdone a very good job on raising me to be a good kid. I will love her forever. I will never stop loving her. My Mom is so special to me. She gives me food and water. She puts me to bed and says, “Good Night!” She lets me go to birthdayparties. She also loves God andreads her Bible and goes to church. My Mom’s name is Jodi. Sheis 37 years old.

My Dad (Curt Stilp)

I love my Dad. He is so funny. He sometimes makes me my dinner and sometimes doesn’t. My Dad works. He is a PA (Physician’s Assistant). He works from 7 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. My Dad loves the Lord and goes to church and reads his Bible every morning. He is so loving and kind. My Dad’s name is Curt. He is 36 years old.

My Brother (Grant Stilp)

My brother’s name is Grant. He is hilarious. I love him. He will eatanything. He loves the Lord andgoes to church and really reads his Bible. He lets me come in his room. He makes up songs and sings all the time. My brother says I’m cool. I love my brother. He is 10 years old.

My Sister (Katie Stilp)

My sister’s name is Katie. She is 9 years old. She is awesome. I loveher. I like that she plays churchwith me. She loves Jesus and goesto church and reads her Bible. Sheis funny and sweet and nice. Weplay coffee together.

My Sister (Paige Stilp)

My sister’s name is Paige. She is 5 years old. She is cool and funny. I loveher. She is in Kindergarten. She plays baby dolls with me. I think that it is fabulous. She loves Jesus and doesn’t reallyunderstand reading her Bible. Shegoes to church too. I share a roomwith her. I like sharing a roomwith her so I don’t get scared at night.

My Sister (Sarah Wilmot)

I love my big sister Sarah. She is really not my sister, but we kind of adoptedher. She lives with us. She lives in the guest room now. She doesn’t have dinner with us mostlybecause she sometimes has it with her friends, but sometimes she has dinnerwith us. I like it when Sarahtakes me to the George Fox Library. I also think that when Sarah brings her friends over from a long timeago, it is fun. Sarah loves Jesusand goes to the same church my family does. She used to be my sister Katie’s student teacher. We met her at house church.

My Grandparents (Terry andRu Hadlock)

I love my Grandma Ru and Grandpa Terry. I like that my Grandpa Terry takes meplaces. I like that my Grandma Rugives me candy bars almost every time I see her. My Grandma’sreal name is Rhonda, but nobody calls her that. They just got a new house. They live in Woodburn. They love Jesus. My GrandmaRu is my Mom’s mom. My GrandpaTerry is my Mom’s step-dad.

My Grandparents (Mo andCarole Stilp)

I love my Grandpa Mo and Grandma Carole. I think that my Grandpa Mo issilly. I like when they come andvisit and take my family to the pool. I like that my Grandma Carole is so beautiful. They live in Minnesota. They love Jesus. They are my Dad’s parents.

My Grandparents (Don andMarcy Klippenes)

I love my Grandma Marcy and Grandpa Don. I like when my Grandpa Don kissesme. I enjoy celebratingThanksgiving with them and seeing them in Sun River every summer. They live in Bend. I like when my Grandma Marcy laughs withme. They love Jesus. My Grandpa Don is my Mom’s Dad and myGrandma Marcy is my Mom’s step-mom.

A Walk Through Grace Village

2011-11-18T14:29:00.001-08:00

On January 12^th, 2010, a 7.0 magnitude earthquakeshook Haiti. Almost 300,000 peopledied. Millions were displaced,losing everything. Bishop andMadam Jeune own a ministry compound in the middle of a busy neighborhood inCarrefour, a suburb of Port au Prince. When the earthquake struck one of the exterior walls of the compoundfell down. Haitians, knowing Bishopand Madam’s reputation of kindness, flooded the property. Within days, 25,000 people weresquatting on 12 acres and Grace Village was formed.

Grace Village

Bishop and Madam rose to the challenge of making even theseprimitive conditions feel structured and welcoming. They brought in water and basic sanitation. They arranged the tents and tarp structuresinto twelve city blocks and appointed Haitian leaders over each block. With the help of Solid Rock, theylaunched the Lord’s Kitchen and started providing a daily meal for theresidents. It’s amazing what Godhas done with their willingness to serve and love their afflicted countrymen.

I stood on the roof of the hospital where we stayed and took these pictures

Two years ago I watched the devastation unfold on TV in thecomfort of my warm home. Monthslater, I listened to my husband recount stories of the oppressive heat, theprimitive living conditions, the constant noise, and the delightfulpeople. I lingered over thepictures his team photographer took.

His teammate was so moved by these people's plight, that he dropped to his knees in prayer.

Curt when he went to Haiti in June 2010

But the reality of life for thousands of Haitians didn’t sink in until Isaw it with my own eyes.

Doing laundry by hand outside their home

Families live in camping tents or homes constructed of donatedtarps and scraps of woods. Theysleep on the rocky, hard, dusty earth. The camp is on a slope. When it rains, the dirt transforms into a muddy river that flows throughthe camp. Mothers sit awake allnight, holding sleeping children in their arms so they won’t drown in the muddywaters. Can you even imagine?

This precious baby, playing with a box, was one of three kids we saw who lived in this home.

When we toured the village, children sat outside their homesin the dirt playing with garbage as toys.

These guys were playing with sticks

These boys were playing with trash

A few lucky kids had real, well-worn toys.

This guy had a soccer ball

Most of the younger children wore only tops with nothing onthe bottom.

the kids loved the bubbles

The atmosphere in the camp has changed over time. The “US AID – a gift from the American people” logo isstamped on tarps draping buildings and homes all over Haiti. I found it ironic that we live inextreme wealth every day, but proudly stamp tarps to give to Haitians living inabject poverty. The irony isn’tlost on the Haitians either.

They are beginning to feel exploited and on display. Wealthy Americans tour theirneighborhoods and their homes, taking video and photos of their destituteliving conditions, and offer help in small waves. But the reality remains that each night as Haitian mommieskiss their babies and sing them to sleep on their bed of dusty earth, they prayit doesn’t rain.

This little one, Isabella, is youngest of six in her family

God has a special place in His heart for the poor andafflicted. I read Psalm 72yesterday and was touched by God’s fierce protection of His most vulnerableloved ones.

“He will defend the afflicted among the people and save the children ofthe needy; …He will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have noone to help. He will take pity onthe weak and the needy and save the needy from death. He will rescue them from oppression and violence, forprecious is their blood in his sight.”

The first night I was home, I relished putting my four kidsto bed. We prayed, sang, talked,cuddled. As I kissed them andtucked them into their warm, soft, cozy beds, I thanked God for His manyblessings.

Clearly this is not at bedtime, but it's recent of me with the kids

The next morning, my girls – who know better – were having alittle gymnastics party on their beds. It sounded like a herd of elephants was about to come busting throughthe ceiling, something they didn’t consider as a dead giveaway when they choseto disobey.

I marched up the stairs, stormed their bedroom, and said,“Raise your hand if you were jumping on your bed.” Two timid hands drifted slowly above two very guiltyfaces. I lectured,“If you can’t take care of your things, you won’t have the privilege of usingthem. I’m taking your beds.”

They stared in disbelief, jaws on the floor, as I grabbedbedding, pillows, and mattresses and drug it out the door of their room anddumped it unceremoniously on the loft. One daughter sassed, “I’ll just sleep on this thing than” and sat downon her box spring. I took it too,leaving only her metal bed frame. It was so satisfying!

They questioned, “What are we supposed to sleep on?” Towhich I replied, “You figure it out. The Haitian kids sleep on the rocky ground with no blankets. I bet they wouldn’t jump on their bedsif they had one.”

My girls rummaged through the house and made beds out ofsleeping bags and pillows inside the metal frame where their bed was supposedto be. They thought they wereroughing it. But I knew better.

I invite you to take a walk through Grace Village.

And tonight, when you tuck your children or yourself intobed, thank God for His many blessings. Sweet dreams.

My Haiti Experience - Guest Post by Melanie Dobson

2011-11-16T22:54:00.001-08:00

Here we are arriving in Haiti!

Today's post is written by award winning novelist, Melanie Dobson. I was so excited to share with you her thoughts on our trip to Haiti that I forgot to write an introduction. DOH! Melanie and I met and became friends shortly after we moved to Oregon. She and her husband Jon were the first people to invite us and all four of our kids to their house for dinner. I remember asking, "Are you sure? We have four kids." Melanie loves Jesus and pursue Him passionately. She's a dedicate wife to Jon and mother to two awesome adopted daughters. She is so humble about her writing talent and all the awards she's won. Melanie is an example to me of how to be a good friend - she asks questions, she prays, she follows up, she checks in, she loves, and she supports. Without further ado, here's my friend Melanie Dobson.

My Haiti Experience (there was no title so I made one up and I admit it's lame)

by Melanie Dobson

Two weeks ago, I arrived home in Portland along withnineteen incredible women and four heroic men who sacrificed their week toprotect and care for us in Haiti. Together we went on one of the hardestjourneys of our lives…and one of the most amazing. Instead of journeying alone,we did it arm-in-arm as sisters (and brothers) in Christ.

Our team leaving Portland

Diane worshipping with a lovely
Haitian woman

For eight months our team had been praying and preparingto join several hundred pastor's wives and other female leaders from churchesacross Haiti at the first conference planned specifically for them. Our desirewas to encourage these women by sharing God's many names. Immanuel. AbbaFather. Light of the World. Mighty Creator. El Roi—the God who sees me. As wespoke about God's names, we hugged these women and prayed with them. And theAmerican missionaries (as the ladies called us) all came home blessed farbeyond words.

It's taken me these two weeks to begin to process a small part of what Isaw during my week. The people that I met; the stories I heard. The women whoshared the anguish of their heartaches after the earthquake and the beauty ofredemption, about tragedy and miracles and hearing the voice of God.

A glimpse of their stories:

Awoman whose house pancaked under her feet as she stood on the roof. Her twelvechildren were below. Even as her neighbors mourned the loss of this woman'sfamily, she continued to pray until she heard a voice in the rubble. And thenshe heard another voice. It seemed impossible, but every one of her childrencrawled out of their collapsed home.
Ayoung son who was led out of the ruins of his house after the earthquake,holding the hand of a man in "bright white." Once the boy gotoutside, the man disappeared.
Awoman who heard God's clear voice telling her on that fateful Tuesday to"put down her ironing and go to church." She argued with God in herbusyness, but His voice persisted. So she obeyed even though she felt silly,sweeping the church while there was so much for her to do at home, but sheremained until the church began to shake. Her house collapsed, but she and herfamily survived and praised the Lord in the streets.
Afather who risked his life to run back into his collapsed house and save hisdaughter.
Awoman who dug her deceased daughter out of a university building and carriedher back to the ruins of Carrafour to bury her.
Mydear new sister, Pastor Elizabeth, who was trapped under the rubble for far toolong. Her head and chest were exposed to the street, her legs buried under awall. When the Americans arrived, she was their first amputee and spent ninemonths in a hospital, teetering between life and death. She promised God, if Helet her live, she would go to Bible school and spend her life telling othersabout Him. In June, Pastor Elizabeth beamed as she told me, she graduated fromBible school.

Melanie with one of the ladies she interviewed

On the last day of theconference, Pastor Elizabeth pulled me aside and opened her Bible. Inside was acolor picture of her on graduation day. She smiled as she pointed out herprosthetic leg in the photo, a testament to her of God's grace, and then shehanded the picture to me. At first, I said "no." I couldn't possiblytake what might be the only picture of her graduation. But she insisted, so Itook her beautiful gift. I took it and I will treasure it--for the rest of mylife. I rushed to my seat after receiving her gift and returned with a pictureof me and my family for her. We're sisters, you see, now and for eternity.

These women lost so muchfrom the earthquake. Many of them lost everything. "We couldn't findanything, not even a cup," one of them told me. "But I didn't lose myfaith. I didn't lose my Savior."

Beautiful Haitian women

Now I'm crying as I write this post, thinking of thesebeautiful women and their stories. This is the reason it's taking me so long toprocess. It's too much. I felt so inadequate to be on this trip, very smallamong a group of godly missionaries, and yet, I discovered that what some ofthese Haitian sisters needed most was not for me to bless them with eloquentwords or (thankfully) immaculate attire. In fact, they didn't need me to talkmuch at all. They needed me to "see" them as God sees them. El Roi.They needed me to listen, and as I did, I promised them I would treasure thestories they shared. Then I promised them I would share their stories with you.

I fell in love with the Haitian women. God clearlyspeaks to them and through them. When they pray, they gather around you, all ofthem laying hands on you and speaking at once. I didn't need to understandCreole to feel the power of their words or the power in their worship.

One of my favorite moments was standing with all myAmerican sisters in front of the room, praising Jesus in English as our Haitiansisters sang in Creole. One of the Haitian ladies grabbed me and began to whirlme around as they worshiped God in their dance. Out of my comfort zone? Verymuch. Did I love every moment of it? Absolutely!! Together we danced before theLord.

Other Haiti moments I'llnever forget:

Thetoddler who clung to me as I walked through Grace Village…or was that me,clinging to her?

Ann and Melanie with kids from Grace Village

Sleepingon the roof of the hospital where we stayed—a grand, giggly slumber party withmy sistas. Stars above us, soft breezes blowing around us, the many sounds ofHaiti below us, lush mountains beside us. Then waking to the spectacularsunrise over the sea as God painted the devastation of Haiti with His glory.The rubble faded away in the beauty of His light.

Kay working to the light of a Haitian sunrise

Chewingand spitting out wads of fibery sugar cane, much like chewing on the bubble gumI love at home.

Celebratingour dear brother David Hames who died during the earthquake with prayer for hisfamily and his favorite treat—gummy bears--on his birthday. I was able to sharethe redemptive story of his life and death with a group of women whounderstood. Then seeing the site of the Hotel Montana from a rooftop with myfaithful friend Jodi Stilp who journeyed through this loss alongside ourfamily.

celebrating David's life with gummy bears

Jodi and Melanie on rooftop with Hotel Montana in the background

Liningup to "jump by generation" into the Caribbean Sea and then eating myfirst goat kebab.

Our team of sisters

Riding back through Port-au-Prince at night—burning trash alongthe sides of the windy roads, candles in the alleyways, protester roadblocks onthe main roads, turning our bus around multiple times with traffic on everyside, people staring at our light-skinned faces in the windows. I was doublythankful that night—for our heroic bus driver who seemed to smile through itall in his "Burger Thing" T-shirt and for the traffic laws in theU.S. that keep cars (for the most part) on opposite sides of the road.
Watching the palm trees sway in the breeze with the backdrop ofmountains and clear blue sea, for above the rubble there is beauty in theirdance just as there is beauty in the eyes of the Haitian women as they dancedbefore the Lord.

Taking a "two cup" shower on our last morning becausesomeone had cut our water line. And being very thankful for my two cups!
Being reminded constantly that what Satanmeans for evil, God can use for incredible good.

After travelingall day on Monday, I ran down the hall of the Portland airport to hug my sweethusband and girls. I missed them more than I can say and their notes, flowers,and love that night made me cry once again. Hours later, my life returned toits steady busyness—editing my manuscript, taking my kids to school, loading upmy blessed laundry machine with dirty clothes.

Even now, my small suitcase is still notunpacked. Every item I take out has a wonderful memory attached to it. Everyscribbled note from a Haitian sister or drawing from a child is something Iwant to cherish. I'm just not quite ready to put it all away.

And so I will linger on my time in Haiti,maybe for months or even years to come. Remembering, reflecting, and prayingfor those women who don't want to leave Haiti because they love their countryand their people.

Melanie's Family

Next time I visitHaiti—and if God allows it, I'm certain there will be a next time—I hope that Iwon't be running back through the airport to see my family at the end. Nexttime, I hope my family is deplaning along with me, long after I've introducedthem to my beautiful Haitian friends.

With much joy,

~Melanie

P.S. Much thanks to one amazing photographer(Jodi Stilp) for taking the above pictures and more than a thousand beautifulphotos for our team and to Mike Varadi (one of our heroes) for capturing ourweek on video.

Potential - Guest Post by Allie Rice

2011-11-16T08:55:00.001-08:00

Allie and I on the bus when we first arrived in Haiti

Today’s post is written by my new friend Allie Rice. I met Allie when our Haiti team wasforming. Each month I’d see her atour planning meetings, but we didn’t really bond until we spent a week togetherin Haiti.

Intelligent, entrepreneurial, and insightful, Allie runs herown (very successful!) web design business. She is well-spoken and her melodic voice is mesmerizing. I could listen to her talk all day. Allie is an eloquent and very talentedwriter. Learn more about her at www.delighteveryday.com

She summarized our last day in Haiti so well that I asked ifI could repost her thoughts on my blog. Enjoy!

Potential - by Allie Rice

The last day we were in Haiti, we took a trip to thebeach. I don’t know about you, but when I’m in a developing country, I’mskeptical about the beach. I pictured a beach-ified version of what we’dbeen looking at for the last week: rubble, trash, deforestation, devastation.Just add some ocean waves and maybe a little sand.

They told us it would take about an hour and a half toget there from Carrefour, but that was no surprise. The traffic in Carrefourand Port-au-Prince is completely insane. Buses weaving through traffic as ifthey were sports coupes, passing with the narrowest of opportunities, vans andtrucks with 30 people piled into them, bus-sized holes in the road, no trafficsigns or road markings, throngs of people walking every which way. It couldeasily take an hour just to get all the way across town.

And that’s how it started, with a trip through thecrowded streets, navigating the infrastructure that can’t possibly support thepopulation of residents and vehicles. On the other side of Port-au-Prince, weturned onto a wide dirt road. Immediately, things started to change. There werefewer vehicles, less rubble, only a few pockets of potholes here and there.Then we reached the end of the dirt road and took a left.

Suddenly we were on a smooth, paved road. A road with adouble yellow line down the middle. A few minutes later, we came into a smalltown, and there were beautiful homes with ornamental archways surrounded bylush vegetation. Some of the homes had clearly sustained some damage in theearthquake, but nearly all of them had cleared the rubble and already startedrebuilding. There were only a few tents scattered here and there; even thesimplest homes had basic walls and tin roofs. And then we saw the ocean.

From that moment on, we were in the Caribbean. Ofcourse, we were in Caribbean all along, but we were in the Caribbean that youpicture in your mind. It was suddenly so easy to understand why France sold theLouisiana Purchase to the United States to fund their fight to keep Haiti fromrevolting.

We spent our afternoon at a Haitian beach club, sittingon chaise lounges, picking up seashells, jumping off the pier into the warmocean. It was surreal. We were all asking the same question: How can Ireconcile this with what I’ve seen for the past seven days?

Only one word seemed applicable: potential.

As we drove around this part of the island, we had aglimpse into what pre-earthquake Haiti might’ve been like. Obviously,Port-au-Prince and Carrefour are more populous than other parts of the island,and that’s a factor; the deforestation in particular is a longstanding problemin much of Haiti. But Carrefour is only a few miles from the epicenter of theearthquake. One has to wonder what it was like before January 12, 2010.

One has to wonder what it could be again.

Our translator — who grew up in Oakland, California andmoved to Haiti six years ago — told us that, in America, we only hear about thebad in Haiti when, in truth, there’s so much good there. Thepeople I met in Haiti — the women leaders I spent three days with — were atestament to the good: they have incredible hope, resilient faith, and anunshakable commitment to their communities. These are women who are changinglives, every single day. I hope I have the opportunity to go back to Haitiin 10, 20, 30 years and see the evidence of those lives changed. Of lifechanged.

“The Lord has anointed me to bring good news to thepoor; to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, theoil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faintspirit.” (Isaiah 61)

Sisters

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I always wanted a sister, but all I got was one brother. I married Curt and he had two brothers. Then my mom remarried and I inherited three more step-brothers. Thankfully all my brothers chose their significant others well so I do get some sister love. I'm challenged to do a much better job connecting with these girls and letting them know how much I love them.

My Mom, me, and my girls. I don't have a picture of me with all my sister-in-laws.

I loved that God gave me a first-born son and then not one, not two, but three daughters. And in April, he gave me one more daughter when Sarah moved in with us. What I lacked in sisters growing up, I've been given in abundance now.

Me and my girls - Paige, Katie, Sarah and Alli

And then, there are my "sisters." We are not united by blood or marriage, but we are united in spirit. Sisters through friendship. My circle of sisters grew by 19 the week I was in Haiti. Each of the ladies I traveled with was wonderfully gifted, kind, and altogether lovely. I am a very blessed woman indeed.

My new "sisters" and the "brothers" that watched over us. Aren't they lovely?

My prayer for my girls is that they will love each other and be each others' best friends. There is no doubt they love each other but sometimes when they bicker and argue, it's easy to lose sight of the big picture. There are days I wonder if they even like each other, let alone would call each other friend. I was so touched by Alli's (age 7) writing assignment for school. It made me realize that my girls do really appreciate the privilege of having sisters. Here's what she wrote (clearly we need to work on spelling):

sisters

"Katie is a very special relative of mine. One reason she speacil is beause she is my sister and she has the same last name is Stilp. Another reason she is cute and I like her clhoths. Another reason she says good moning to me every day. I think she is awsome! She is also very loving."

that share a last name.

Thank you Jesus for all my precious girls! And thank you Jesus for all my sisters. I love each one of you!

25 Things I Learned in Haiti

2011-11-13T12:58:00.001-08:00

I learned several things about myself and life while I was in Haiti. In no particular order, here are some of my thoughts.

1. I CAN get up early. I have 20-some witnesses that I was up every day for eight days either before the sun or with the sun rise. This is most definitely a record-breaking event for me and I think it deserves a medal of some kind.

Haitian Sunrise

2. Ice is a beautiful thing. I know I drink more water than a camel. But drinking camel-like quantities of water served room-temperature in Haiti made me realize the great value in ice. Ice water is one of my new favorite things.

3. Haitians know how to do coffee. YUMMY! I looked forward to my multiple cups of coffee each morning at 5 a.m. It was rich and delicious straight-up black without any cream or sugar.

This lady was roasting coffee and it smelled so good!

4. I have bad eating habits. Haitians don't do dessert. I do cookies/brownies/chocolate at lunch, dinner and sometimes breakfast. Who knew going a week without baked goods and chocolate would be so rough? I'm SO glad I threw a pack of Famous Amos cookies for each day in my suitcase. I need them.

5. Sweating perpetually 24 hours a day, even in your sleep, makes for some really raunchy body odor. I had no idea I could smell so bad.

I loved this lady - nice pit stains on me though.

6. Too much noise overwhelms me. I thought I had a high tolerance for noise and chaos. I have four of the loudest, most fun kids on the planet. But the first 24 hours in Haiti, I was totally overwhelmed. It is NEVER quiet. My friend Ashley describes it as the "Haitian hum." A cacophony of continual noise - roosters crowing, chickens cawing, packs of dogs barking at each other and anything that moves at all hours of the day and night, horns honking, people partying... I remember laying on my cot on the roof of the hospital under the brightest stars imaginable listening to a Haitian house church party well into the night. I was tempted to be irritated that sleep was evading me when I felt God whisper, "Soak it in. Soak in the sights. The smells. The sounds. THIS is Haiti. These are my people. Embrace this experience." So I spent that night (and many others) drifting in and out of sleep. Waking to roosters and dogs and people singing, soaking it in and falling back to sleep. I love the Haitian hum, but I also love silence.

one of my favorite photos of street life in Haiti

7. Only Haitians drive in Haiti. I never understood why foreigners had drivers when they visited Haiti. Within two seconds on a Haitian road, I understood. There are no traffic signs or lights, no marked lanes of traffic, no rules of the road. Buses play chicken with mac trucks, mopeds weave in and out of vehicle and human traffic, and all vehicles avoid the car-swallowing-sized holes in the middle of the roads. Drivers communicate through an unwritten language of honking. Our bus driver deserved a medal of honor maneuvering a full sized school bus down roads the width of a driveway. I will never complain about parallel parking again (or at least not until I have to do it again).

road construction, and yes that's our bus on the far right driving past it.

8. Sugar cane is not all it's cracked up to be. Something about the spitting it out was a little underwhelming for me. Watching Diane Comer launch a piece of sugar cane across the hospital meeting room was however very rewarding. Way to come over to the dark side Diane!

I don't have a picture of Diane trying sugar cane, but this is me with it.

9. The fried bread/chicken/spices treat we saw in the village looked amazing. I'm jealous that Jeff Hartley gets to eat those every day.

YUM!

10. I'm not the only one who thinks Curt (my husband) is hilarious. The Haitians all knew exactly who he was and remembered what a riot he is.

11. My husband and kids (Sarah, Grant, Katie, Alli and Paige) are God's greatest gifts to me (aside from my salvation of course). Spending 8 days apart from them made me fall in love with them all over again.

I LOVE my family.

12. Bugs of all kinds don't like me. Not that I'm complaining. My poor teammates slathered themselves in bug cream and still got eaten alive, while I used bug cream once on the first day and never even saw a bug the entire time. Maybe it was my body odor that was a deterrent.

13. Working out in Haiti makes you feel like one Tough Cookie. The rivers of sweat give you the appearance of working REALLY hard. I recommend it.

14. If I tried to carry stuff on my head like the Haitian woman, it would end up on the sidewalk. You Haitian ladies rock!

my attempt to be Haitian. It didn't work.

15. I don't buy Jeff Hartley's philosophy of keeping cool in Haiti. His theory? "Endure the first 20 minutes of vicious sweating and once you sweat through your entire shirt the dampness keeps you cool." I was just wet, hot, smelly and still sweating. Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough?

16. My washing machine is my new favorite appliance. Seeing these women and children sitting in the dirt with a bucket of water scrubbing their clothes by hand made me realize just how good I have it.

laundry waiting to be cleaned

17. Did I mention how much I love ice?

18. The Haitians are even more beautiful than I imagined. In body and spirit, they are exquisite.

some of the village residents

Isn't she beautiful?

19. I would not like being famous. Our team was surrounded by a security team at all times. While I always felt safe, I also felt really exposed. I value privacy and not having my every move be known. Can you imagine being the President? UGH.

20. We need each other. We saw this on our team and with the women we ministered to. When one of us was weak, the others were strong. There is power in unity and community. I saw this over and over and over again. This is a discipline I will be more intentional about practicing now that I'm home.

our team celebrate Melanie's friend, David, who lost his life in the earthquake.

21. Sharing one toilet and shower - both with no curtain or door - with eight women makes you cross friendship boundaries REALLY fast.

22. God doesn't need me. The first day we were in Haiti was the toughest for me. I was exhausted physically. My senses - all five of them - were completely overloaded. It was like my body and brain were locked up from overload. I need to "force quit" and take a time out. I told God, "I can't do this. This is too much for me." In that moment I felt God remind me that I don't have to do anything. He is already at work. He is already advancing His kingdom. He will continue to do this with or without my help. But in His great love, God invites me to join Him in His work. How generous. On my own, I offer nothing. But in my inadequacies and weakness, God is my strength. He alone is enough and He chooses to use me. He takes the little I can offer and multiplies it because He loves me.

more art work on the wall at the boys home

23. I love me a good nickname. Everyone in my family has a nickname. It's how we show affection. The Haitians love names/titles too.

They called us missionaries.
The conference was seminary.
Diane was Pastor Diane Carol Comer.
To the Haitians I was Madam Curt and to Ann I was Jodiata.
Kathleen became my Getter Doner-er.
Kay is hands down the best Clothes Nazi ever.

24. God loves names too. It's this concept that we brought to the conference - His Name in Haiti.

El Roi - the God who sees - called Whitney a Worshipper before she knew she was one.
Light of the World led me through dark times, out of darkness and into abundant life in the light.
Emmanuel - God with us to the mother in my small group. When the earth shook, she was standing on the roof of her house as it pancaked onto 12 of her 13 children, burying them alive. As she screamed, "Jesus - Jesus - save my children" they cried out from the rubble, "Mommy, Mommy. Jesus saved us. It's okay. We will live and see what God will do for us."
Physician to the woman whose young daughter had just been miraculously healed. Doctors told her, "She will die from this hole in her heart. We can't close it up," and at the next appointment, the hole was sealed up.
Prince of Peace to the weeping woman finally grieving her son's death after two years of holding it in. I watched her sorrow turn to peace as we prayed this name of God over her.
Solid Rock to the women who felt the earth crumble below them. Many of them lost loved ones and all their earthly possessions yet they sang with passion, "On Christ the Solid Rock I stand. All other ground is sinking sand."
Provider to the thousands of displaced families receiving daily meals from the Lord's Kitchen.
Abba - Daddy to a crowd of women desperate to raise godly children who will lead Haitians to follow and trust Jesus.

On the wall at the boys home

25. Pray. Pray first. Pray often. It moves the hands of God. We have not because we ask not. Pray, pray, pray.

26. I understand why Survivor contestants love their buffs. You can do a lot of things with a Buff, or "boof" as the Clothes Nazi called it. The primary function in Haiti was a sweat rag, but I also demonstrated how it could be a mini-skirt.

Demonstrating the mini-skirt capability of the Buff

27. Laugher is medicine for the soul. We sure laughed a lot.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Stay tuned for more of His Name in Haiti.

Celebrating Krista

2011-11-12T01:27:00.001-08:00

Today, I (along with hundreds of others) celebrate the lifeof Krista Jean Maffia.

I met Krista two years ago after a baby shower. Young, vibrant, beautiful with thickcurly hair bouncing, she rushed into the restaurant and joined our group. The first thing I noticed was hersmile. It lit up her face and theroom. She oozed zest. Even in her sleep-deprived delirium, shewas awash in the glow of newborn baby love – her third daughter’s birth still afresh and beautiful memory.

I don’t remember the specific timeline, but I know it wasshortly after that lunch date that Krista found out she was sick. Her friends grieved. I grieved and I didn’t even know her. I did the only thing I could – pray. My kids addedKrista to their prayer list and every night they prayed for Krista’shealing. Each time I ran, I prayedfor Krista’s healing. When I sawher curly-topped, innocent daughter’s face peering at me from the bus, I prayedfor Krista’s healing. We prayedand prayed and prayed some more.

Six months later I ran into Krista at a craft fair. I didn’t recognize her, but sherecognized me. She greeted mewarmly – like an old friend – and graciously reintroduced herself when I stoodthere with an empty stare on my face. As soon as she said her name I blurted out, “Oh Krista. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve been praying for you.” She smiled that smile – the one thatlights up a room – and said, “I know you have.” We talked about how she was feeling and what her needswere. She offered to let me startbringing meals.

For a period of time, I became the Monday Meal Lady. I looked forward to my interactionswith Krista, brief as they were. Sometimes she was at appointments and I’d leave my meal on the frontstep in the cooler. Sometimes shewas resting and I’d check in with her mom on how she was feeling and how wecould pray. But sometimes she wasup for visiting and I loved those days. She’d tell me her daughters’ latest accomplishments and always apologizefor a “messy house.” I loved thather home was lived-in – signs of life and love everywhere. Sometimes we’d pray together,especially before big doctor appointments.

Krista was generous. I had a friend about to deliver twins as a single mom. She needed baby supplies so I put arequest out on Facebook. Kristawas one of the first to respond and she gave generously all of the thingsMicaela had just outgrown. Inspite of her own pain and her own battle against cancer, Krista wanted to giveback to someone else in need. Iwas so touched by that.

Intensely private, I got the impression that Kristastruggled with living out such a personal pain on a public platform. Who can blame her? We all resonated with her story. We all wanted to do something –ANYTHING- to help. So we cooked. Cleaned. Played with her kids. Garage saled. Car washed. Some of it was helpful. Some of it was fuss, but it kept ourhands busy and hearts feeling purposeful. Krista sacrificed her privacy so we could join with her as she bravelybattled this relentless cancer. Thank you Krista for that.

This spring, we braved the wet weather to watch our girlslearn how to play softball. Even when she felt terrible, Krista was quick toflash that beautiful smile. She didn’t seem to mind the cold or the boredom of watching 6 year olds “play”softball. She was just happy tosee her girl out on the field. Krista and I both grew up playing softball andwe vowed to play together when she got better.

The rain and cold came early this fall. With it came a big health scare. Krista was admitted to the hospital andwe wondered if she’d come home. Miraculously, she defied the odds and came home a few days later. She was determined to beat her cancerin spite of what the doctors said.

The rain continued. I broke down and bought rain boots. They were so cute I thought they were status-worthy onFacebook. I knew Krista wasfeeling better when she made this comment, “I’ve lived in Oregon 35 years andI’ve never owned a pair of rain boots.” After a little bit of playful banter, we both decided she needed her ownpair. So we went shoppingtogether. I’d text her a pictureof each possible option. She’dtext back her opinion. We bothknew the winner when we saw them.

She wasn’t feeling up for company when I dropped them off,so I didn’t get to give her one last hug, but she got to wear her new rainboots to her doctor appointment the next day. And after that, the rain stopped. We all enjoyed a few weeks of beautiful, dry, warm fallweather. I shelved my rainboots. I think Krista did too.

I was at the Dallas/Ft. Worth airport on October 31^streturning from a week in Haiti when I found out Krista was no longersuffering. Curt gingerly asked,“Have you been on Facebook? Did you hear about Krista?” My stomach lurched and I almost dropped my frozen yogurt. How could it be? It didn’t seem possible. Krista wanted so badly to beat theodds. We all wanted so badly forher to beat the odds. I couldn’tprocess the emotion.

The next morning, I ran to clear my head. I prayed but this time I didn’t prayfor Krista’s healing. Her battlewith cancer is done. I prayedinstead for her husband. Herdaughters. Her family and herclose friends. As soon as I sawKrista’s house, the tears flowed freely. It’s such a loss. Such ahuge void. I miss you Krista.

Today is my 37^th birthday. It’s also the day of Krista’s memorial– the day when we all corporately celebrate her life and her legacy. I’ll start my day by going for a longrun with my running buddy. Asalways, I will pray for Krista’s family as we run. My son’s 5^th grade football team had anundefeated season. Today, theyplay in the championship game in a stadium with a turf field. It’s the real deal. Of course his game falls at the sametime of Krista’s memorial service. I debated for a long time which event I should go to. Ultimately, I chose Grant’s game. I know Krista would make the samechoice too. Her kids and herhusband were her light and her life.

So my friend, Krista, I celebrate your life today byembracing what today offers. Health. Family. Sports. Competition. Grit. Life. Laughter. Potential Heartbreak. Love. I celebrate who you were and are. You will never be forgotten. We will rally together to take care of Cassio and yourgirls. They will never forget youeither. Thank you for thefriendship you offered and for the life you lived. You were an inspiration to hundreds. I miss you.

Photo by J. Carmon Photography

My Mom's Trip to Haiti - Guest Post by Katie Stilp (9 years)

2011-11-11T08:00:00.001-08:00

My sweet girl Katie is creatively intelligent. She's always been expressive but in the past few months, her talents have really started coming out. She's artistic and can draw beautiful things (I have no idea where she gets this). She writes songs with no effort and has started writing tons of short stories and creative writing pieces. She continues to amaze me with the way creativity just flows effortlessly from her.

She wrote this story for school and read it to us at conferences this week. I loved it so much that I wanted to share it with you. Here's what she wrote, exactly as she wrote it.

My Mom's Trip to Haiti

by Katie Stilp

4th Grade - 9 years old

Getting love from the girls standing in line for food.

"One morning I went downstairs and my mom was gone! Then I remembered she was on a mission trip to Haiti. I got relaxed and moved on with my regular school routine. And I didn't notice that 8 days without my mom would go pretty well.

It seemed weird without my mom but I started to figure it out. My family and I came and went to school off and on. On Tuesday we went to a friends houses and on Wensday we didn't ride the bus we went to dance or the pick up line. I had thought we were doing well and we were. My dad asked me if I missed her and I said, "Do you know how when something is gone and you are doing fine without it but you want it to come back' and he said, "Yeah. I have felt like that."

This Haitian beauty - Marie France - was 8 yrs old and she
gave me lots of love when I really needed it.

Finally the day came and I walked downstairs and suprise my mom was there! I said, "I thought you wouldn't be up this early to see me." I started watching cartoons and then everyone was crowding around my mom. What is going on I thought? Then I noticed my mom had presents for us.

The morning I came home

Presents? I thought. Wow. we are really getting spoiled. Then my mom said this is for you. I looked up and there were three beautiful things in front of me. The first one was a pretty box to put things in. It had carveings in it and a cool lid. The other things were some shells that would fit in my box and a clip that said HAITI on it. I was so releved about the presents and that my mom was home. I gave her a huge hug. And I noticed that my mom makes such a big impact on my life and how much I need her."

Isaiah 43

2011-11-10T16:41:00.001-08:00

Feeling fearful? All alone? Unloved? Need some encouragement? Listen to what the LORD says to you in Isaiah 43. (BOLD emphasis and words in parens are mine).

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you; you are mine. (Do you hear the fierce possessiveness?)
When (not if) you pass through the waters, I will be with you; (You are not alone.)
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. (You will get through this.)
When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the fames will not set you ablaze. (You have God's protection.)

For I am the Lord, your God, (He is personal to you.)
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; (He wants to rescue you.)
I give Egypt for your ransom, Cush and Seba in your stead. (He loves you so much, he gives up entire nations to save you).
Since you are precious and honored in my sight, (Remember who is talking here? This is God saying this about you!)
and because I love you. (You are loved.)
I will give men in exchange for your life. (You are that valuable.)
Do not be afraid, for I am with you."

Can I get an amen?

On Being a Hair Stylist - Guest Post by Alli Stilp

2011-11-08T16:59:00.000-08:00

Alli’s Hair Stylist Report

7 ½ years old – 2^nd grade – Mabel Rush ElementarySchool

October 2011

Here's the front cover

Alli had to write a report on what she wanted to be when shegrew up. She had to answer a bunchof questions in the report. To getthe answers, she interviewed our friend Gabby who is a hair stylist. Here’s what she wrote (as she typed it)and pictures of her carefully constructed report.

“When I grow up I want to be a hair stylist. Will I be providing a product or aservice. I provide haircuts,colors, up-dos, extensions, full waves, custom clip-ins. The place I will be working at is Down2 Details. (Store). What I will have to wear. I get to choose but when my customerscome I have to put on a apron so the hair doesn’t get on my clothes. Subjects I will need to study in schoolare Cometologe, school.

creating the masterpiece

pictures of Alli doing hair

I willalso have the study hair nails and skin. It will take me 13 months to learn all of it. Someone I know who does this job are Gabby, and Danny. For this job I will need to be good atcutting hair and painting nails. Iwant to do this job because I like to feel smooth things like hair. The responsibilities I will have in myjob are be nice to my customers and not cut the hair diagonal. I interviewed a friend named Gabby andshe said that you can’t cut a person’s hair till you are old enough. I think that you can’t cut a sisters orbrothers hair till 18. I get topick how long I get to work. Gabbysays that she loves her job. Whatshe likes the best is she always gets to do different haircuts once in awhile. What Gabby does not likeabout it is she has to be talking to the customer and also thinking of how shehas to cut the hair and still be focused. I love thinking about being a hair stylist. Why because I’m going to be a hair stylist when I grow up.”

Midnight Party

2011-10-25T03:23:00.000-07:00

We arrived at our hotel in Ft. Lauderdale around 9 p.m.Eastern time. Our team gathered in thelobby for a pizza party and team meeting. I almost fell off my chair when Kay, our team lead, announced that wewere to all meet back in the lobby at 4 a.m. today. Ummm? Really?

My roommate assignments were Ann, Orlena and Whitney. We promised to try to be good and not causetrouble so we turned out the light at 10:30 p.m. and laid in the dark silentlyfor almost an hour. Orlena was my bedbuddy and I was inwardly giggling as she tried to lay still and not squirm nextto me. Finally I whispered, “I’m notsleeping either.” She giggled and thenAnn, who we thought was sleeping soundly in the next bed got up. Orlena whispered, “She’s not sleeping either.” We started snickering and Whitney poppedup. Within seconds, we were having aparty.

We giggled and laughed for way too long. We watched videos on our phones. We listened to music. Talked about our families. And laughed a lot. Everything is funny when you’re supposed tobe quiet. We finally forced ourselves toturn out the lights and try to fall asleep, but to no avail. We’d all start falling asleep and then theair conditioner would clunk off and wake us all up. We tossed and turned and were just fallingasleep when the alarm went off at 3:15 a.m.

Breakfast at 4 a.m.

We felt better when we met our team for breakfast and foundmost of the women’s stories to match our own. Our team is at the Ft. Lauderdale airport, waiting to board the plane toPort au Prince. We’re sleep deprived andswollen eyed, but the laughter is constant and the excitement is mounting. Haiti – here we come!

Getting Packed and On the Plane

2011-10-24T18:21:00.000-07:00

Curt and I at the airport

I was pretty sure going into yesterday afternoon that Imight be showing up at the airport with a pile of clothes in my hands beggingfor some sort of containing device. Mybedroom looked like my closet vomited all over the floor, but something aboutnarrowing a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries down into one carry on bagparalyzed me. As Curt would say, I had“paralysis by analysis.” Each itempacked needed to be intentional and serve a dual purpose. Forgetting my passport (that I’m using forthe first time) would be detrimental. Ohthe pressure…

I spent the afternoon packing and managed to fit everythingI need into a rolling carry-on and a second huge bag that holds the team cameraand laptop. I’m praying for grace fromthe flight attendants and maybe some bigger muscles by the time I get to Haiti.

Phil introducing our guy chaperones to our group

My Mom and Terry came over for dinner that Curt, Terry andSarah all made together while I finished packing. We ate as an extended family and then circledup around the kitchen counter, held hands, and prayed. It was such a sweet, emotional and intimatetime. I cried silently as I listened tomy precious kids come boldly to the throne of grace and petition God for safetravels, a “fun time holding orphan babies,” and protection over them as Ileave. Is there anything more beautifulthan when a child talks to Jesus?

I put each of my precious lovelies to bed last night. We prayed, talked, snuggled, hugged andcried. I’ve never been gone longer thantwo days without seeing my babies. Eightdays feels like an eternity! Alli, whodoesn’t handle change well, was up twice in the middle of the night. The second time she was an emotional wreckand plopped down on the stairs crying loud. Curt told her they’d need to move since she was being so loud. She interrupted her loud tears to tell him,“I’m trying to compose myself” before she started crying again. Oh Alli…

This morning wake up was at 5 a.m.! Curt and I ate breakfast together, I kissedall my sleeping kids one more time, squeezed Sarah who got up early to saygoodbye, and we headed out the door. Wepicked up Jenna, one of my teammates, along the way and got to the airport by 7a.m.

Praying for the Lord to send us.

Our team is all wearing matching Forward Edge t-shirts. Originally most of us grimaced inwardly overthe dictated travel outfit, but it was really cool to be at the airport as ateam, unified by our t-shirts that say “ordinary people – extraordinarypurpose.” We checked our huge red dufflebags and then our team, along with our family members made a huge circle. We held hands - young and old, friends andfamily - and prayed. We asked God to gobefore us. We asked for protection overour families and over our team as we traveled. We asked for moldable hearts and spirits ready to embrace the Haitianwomen anxiously awaiting our arrival. Itwas beautiful. After prayer, we saidgoodbye to our loved ones and headed off into the great unknown.

Our first flight is about to land. The closer we get to Haiti, the faster myheart beats. I can not wait to see whatGod does in the next eight days. Isaiah6:8 says, “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for me?’ And I said, ‘Hear I am. Send me.’” After months of planning, dreaming and praying, we are finallygoing. Thank you Jesus!

Our team

P.S. Made it to Ft.Lauderdale and are checked in at the hotel. Big pizza party in the lobby in twenty minutes and we head to Haitifirst thing in the morning. Got to talkto my people at home. Katie’s team madethe championship game of intramural kickball and she’s so excited. The kids made packets ofnotes/cards/scrapbooks for me to open each day I’m gone. It brought me to tears! Thanks for your prayers for my sweet family!

Grant and Peter's Rap about Noah

2011-10-21T20:33:00.000-07:00

Yet another reason why the kids ministry at Solid Rock is about the best there ever was...

Peter, one of our children's youth pastors, happens to be a good friend of Grant's. Peter wrote a rap about Noah to sing at church one week. Grant loved it but thought it needed more depth so the two of them worked on the rap and came up with this finished product. The girls are very happy to beat box and dance every time Grant performs it. Hope you enjoy it!

Hello. My name is Noah and I'm building an ark.

I'm doing it cause I'm scared of sharks.

The clouds are coming and it's gonna get dark,

It's gonna rain. It's gonna be insane.

The earth is gonna flood and it's gonna be lame,

but me and my family, we're gonna float.

Cause I built myself a really big boat.

And on my boat I got a goat, a hippo, some froggies, a rhino, a tiger, and some really cute doggies. Porcupine, a rat, triceritops too.

It's like I got my very own zoo.

On the boat, the boat that I built.

I feel some guilt because everybody else is gonna drown.

They're gonna go down, down.

On the Flip Side

2011-10-15T09:23:00.000-07:00

Cheerleaders

Sunday was the Portland Marathon. I spent all day Saturday a ball of nervous energy, pacing around trying to keep my hands and mind busy. Saturday night I laid out my clothes for the morning, thought through my breakfast and snack plans, set my alarm for o-dark thirty, and went to bed hoping I could turn my mind off and sleep. Sunday morning I woke to my alarm and bounded out of bed instantly awake and excited. It was marathon day! But instead of donning my running clothes and grabbing my bib number, I donned warm clothes to stay dry in and grabbed an extra cup of coffee for the road. This year I was running the Portland Marathon on the flip side – as a fan, not a runner. It’s been a week and I still can’t tell which was more fun.

our spot on the bluff

My quiet, reserved best friend Kelly volunteered to come with me so I wouldn’t have to run around the race course chasing friends by myself. Sarah’s sister-in-law Mandee was also running so Sarah joined us at the last minute and we all set out early, but not nearly as early as the runners. (BONUS for being a fan). We staked out a perfect cheering spot on the bluff above the Willamette River just past the twenty-mile mark then took a quick detour to Heavenly Donuts. We picked up a dozen donuts to eat while we waited (talk about an oxymoron) and giggled when the old guys in front of us line didn’t laugh at my joke about the donuts being heavenly.

my cheesy sign

Some of the big marathons, Portland included, print your name in big bold letters on your marathon bib so spectators can cheer for you by name. I abandoned my chair and my donut, stood right on the edge of the road, and cheered loudly for each runner by name. Sarah joined me. Kelly stood back clapping quietly and inwardly giggling and our running monologue. “Go Ben! You’re doing great! Nice pace Travis! Don’t quit Theo. Hey a girl – you’re awesome Megan. Look at you hanging with the boys!” Some racers got huge smiles and gave thumbs up or high fives. Others appeared to be in great pain and just grimaced in our direction. Some runners didn’t indicate they heard us at all, but it didn’t stop our enthusiasm. At one point Kelly said, “They should pay you guys to do this. You’re awesome!”

Six of my friends were running the marathon:

• My neighbor Jon who runs marathons so often he could probably run one in his sleep. He was shooting for a personal best time and we knew if we saw him he’d be in the early pack of racers.

• Carissa, my running partner in crime, who committed to training for this race with the intention of trying to qualify for Boston. She trained relentlessly – miles and miles and miles – and went into the race in tip-top shape and running faster than she ever has in her life.

• Tanya, my other running partner in crime, who entered the race attempting to run her first marathon on a bum knee that kept her out of weeks of training. Fast and determined, I had no doubt she’d make it across the finish line in spite of her injury.

• Sisters and friends of mine – Ally and Mandee – both running their first marathon and committed to running the entire race together from start to finish.

• Kathleen – a new friend that I’m going to Haiti with – also running her first marathon after months of committed training.

Carissa looking great at mile 20

I hoped to see all my friends on the course but HAD to see Carissa finish this race. It felt almost sinful to let her run a big race without me. The closer Carissa’s pace group got to our cheering spot, the more nervous I got. When she came into view I momentarily lost my ability to breathe. It was so exciting and so emotional.

Weeks and weeks of getting up before her husband left for work to run, logging miles on the weekends, adjusting her schedule to be a wife, mom, friend and marathon runner culminated on this day, in this race. Not surprisingly, she was running strong with the 3:30 pace group - still running an eight-minute mile pace at mile 20.5!

I took off down the street with her, clunking away in my rain boots and talking non-stop. I don’t remember much of our conversation, but I do remember praying with her and swallowing a lot over the lump of tears in my throat. Do all spectators feel this proud of their loved ones who run? Sheez!

Carissa and Tass at the finish

After Carissa passed, Kelly and I packed up and headed to the finish line to cheer Carissa (and hopefully my other friends) in to the finish. Sarah stayed behind at mile 20 to wait for Mandee and Ally and ended up having her own Swallow Back the Emotions moment with them. We found Carissa’s husband about three tenths of a mile from the finish line. Shortly after we arrived, the 3:30 pace group ran by. Carissa wasn’t with them.

My heart sank and I started pacing and praying. I think I may have actually been muttering under my breath, “C’mon Carissa. C’mon Carissa.” Time stood still as we waited and prayed. Waited and prayed. Finally, after what seemed like forever but was really only 60 seconds, she appeared. Clearly tired but still running strong, she was seconds away from finishing her second marathon and potentially doing it in a Boston-qualifying time!

We chased her around the corner to the reunion area and I re-loaded the “Track Your Runner” web page. We held our breath while it loaded and I lost it when it showed her finish time as 3 hours 32 minutes 47 seconds - a Boston qualifying time and good enough for 25th place in her entire division! I must have looked like a crazy fool jumping up and down in the reunion area shouting, “She did it! She did it!” but it was too exciting to be mature.

Carissa and I - Boston Qualifiers!

When Carissa emerged we hugged and celebrated and I cried for both of us. It was really special and I know I wouldn’t have appreciated how fast and smooth her race was if I would have been running next to her struggling to keep up and berating myself for thinking it was a good idea to try to run 26.2 miles.

We saw Tanya finish her race – just over four hours for her first marathon and with an injury to boot – before we had to leave the race to rejoin our families. I stalked my remaining friends through the website and caught up with them after the race.

Tanya, me and Carissa

The runner’s high lasted all afternoon. My brain was spinning and excitement ran high. I couldn’t sit still even though I was tired and had to upload pictures immediately. Running the race as a spectator felt eerily similar to actually running. The only difference was that my body wasn’t sore and exhausted. Bonus. I loved running the marathon on the flip side as a spectator so much that I just might actually literally run it next year. Thanks a lot Carissa!