California!

Ministry Update

The meeting here in Fundamental Baptist Church in Escondido is going very well. We enjoyed the church ever since we first came, but this time there is a wonderful spirit that seems to pervade the church. God’s people have been so sensitive and the altar has been filled every night with people making things right. The church has a new pastor, their previous pastor having retired. The man that God has brought to the church is a tremendous blessing and God has allowed us to form a real friendship with him and his family. The fellowship with all of the church has been really sweet this time and we praise the Lord for the way He is working. The meeting goes through Friday. Please continue to pray not only for this meeting, but also for next week, that the Lord would open up a place for us to minister.

Family Update

Getting back into the swing of things took a few days for our family as we adjusted to yet another time change when we entered California. We had finally adjusted to Mountain Standard Time while we were in Mexico, so we were ready to take the final step. Dark circles and all, there we were fellowshipping after the services each night. If you do the math, we start our services at 10:00 pm EST. That means if Paul gets too long-winded, which, of course, he never does(!), we get out around midnight, and then talk for another 30 – 60 minutes. Half the time, I get “the Yawns,” as we call them while people are telling me how glad they are to see us again, and what a blessing the service was. I really can’t help yawning. Have you ever tried to hold a yawn? First, your eyes begin to water, then your nose twitches, and finally, your face turns a light purple as you compress your lips to keep from exploding with a yawn in the face of the dear church member who is talking to you. If they get a concerned look on their face, take a deep breath. This will relieve them, and they will continue the conversation. If they don’t notice, and just keep talking, go ahead and yawn, but make sure to cover your mouth. Most people don’t care to see your uvula, no matter how much of a blessing they say you are!

Josiah has entered the doldrums of Kindergarten. He now realizes that school is not always fun, and that he would much rather be playing with Legos than stuck in his desk writing for endless hours. He still does well, though. The distraction level is at an all-time high, however, with two younger sisters always present. I have managed to encourage him to finish quickly with bribes of getting to play in the church nursery when he is done. I really don’t see the appeal of the nursery to a five-year-old, but I am apparently missing something. It is a real incentive.

The other day, we had gone somewhere as a family, and had to get ready quickly before the service. I called out as we headed to the trailer, “Last one there is a rotten egg!” Josiah, who arrived at the trailer first, was highly excited, and said, “I’m the rotten egg!” Then he asked what a rotten egg was. I told him it was very stinky and yucky, and he seemed satisfied with that explanation. Later, however, I realized that he hadn’t quite grasped the concept. As we headed out the door for the service, Abigail said, “I’m the leader!” Josiah followed this with “And I’m the rotten egg!” I guess he thought it was a good thing. Then he said, “Abigail is a rotten egg, too, but I’m the fastest rotten egg!” Abigail did not like to be called a rotten egg, and violently protested that she was not an egg, she was the leader. And so, we headed off to church, laughing all the way.

The kids received a new game today. Whack-a-mole. You can just about guess what that is from the name of it. A battery operated toy that plays electronic music and talks. The gist of the game is to hit the proper mole before the light goes off. It comes with four plastic hammers and when your mole makes his sound, you have to hit it with the hammer. “Duh, yeah, oops, and ruff” accompanied by goofy laughs and music are the assorted sounds of the mole population. The game starts off well enough, but soon a missed mole turns into a free-for all with the hammers, and Whack-a Mole escalates into Whack-a-Sibling. The excitement is terrific, and so is the noise. Paul and I sit back and watch, thankful that we aren’t playing, and that one day, the batteries will die.