October 28, 2017 § Leave a comment
An imagined but quite possible day in a life overseas . . .
This morning I woke up with my to-do list waiting for me on the nightstand. Item number one was Get out of bed (I’d written that one down so I could start the day by crossing it off). Number two said Copy document. That’s because yesterday at the county government office, when I went to get my resident permit renewed, the lady behind the desk told me I needed to bring a copy of my registration letter to leave with them.
I was more than ready to get that taken care of and move on to the other, bigger, better, more important things on my list. It was an impressive list. I had quite the day planned.
After a quick shower and a slice of toast for breakfast, I grabbed my permit documents and walked the four blocks to the bus stop and took the bus to the copy shop, about 15 minutes away. But when I stepped off the bus I saw that the copy shop wasn’t a copy shop anymore. Instead, sometime over the weekend, it had been turned into a KFG Chicken restaurant. (That’s right, a KFG not a KFC. This one had a big green smiling rooster on its sign.) I called my teammate to get her advice, and she said I could get a copy at a bank. There was a bank down the street, and after going there and standing in line, I asked the teller if she could help me make a copy. She said that was impossible.
On the way back to the bus stop, I called another teammate, and he told me to try the photo shop next to the new high school. I decided to take a taxi there to save time, but the only cash I had was a large bill and I figured the driver wouldn’t have change for it, so I walked back to the bank to withdraw some money from the ATM. But then the ATM ate my card and wouldn’t spit it out no matter how many buttons I pushed. I went back into the bank to retrieve it, but they said that was impossible—at least until after two business days.
You can read the rest at A Life Overseas. . . .
July 24, 2015 § 2 Comments
[In honor of Parents’ Day, July 26, I am reposting an open letter from my wife and me to all parents of missionaries. We wrote it during our time serving in Taiwan.]
Thank you for raising us to know about God and his love for the world.
Thank you for letting us go without letting go of us.
Thank you for forgiving late birthday cards.
Thank you for praying for us.
Thank you for giving up time with your grandchildren.
Thank you for your e-mails and letters and calls.
Thank you for sending Barbie Dolls, Tic Tacs, Koolaid, socks, Reader’s Digests, and Lucky Charms cereal.
Thank you for your questions about our new home and work.
Thank you for being patient and understanding when we tell you how exciting it is to live in another part of the world.
Thank you for being patient and understanding when, two days later, we complain about living in that same place.
Thank you for not making us feel selfish for wanting to go. Sometimes we feel that way on our own.
Thank you for listening to our stories about people you’ll never meet with names you can’t pronounce.
Thank you for being our ambassadors.
Thank you for sending clippings from our hometown newspaper.
Thank you for telling us about our neighbors, classmates, and cousins—all the stories that don’t make the news.
Thank you for letting our brothers and sisters stand in for us when we’re too far away to do our part in the family. (They really should get their own letter.)
Thank you for loving us.
Thank you for trusting Jesus to take care of us when you can’t.
Thank you for being proud of us. We are proud of you.
We chose to be a missionary family, not you, and we understand that our move has meant many sacrifices for you. You are not only a part of our family but an invaluable part of our team.
With all our love,