La Vid Verdadera

I like this story – it’s a good one. But I anticipate it will take me more than a few paragraphs and a couple of bullet-point lists to tell it well. I want to do justice to this story.
For the nine Sundays we have been in Guatemala, we have attended four different churches and have attempted to attend five. (One of the mentioned churches doesn’t have Sunday morning services, which we didn’t find out until Sunday morning.) Here’s a run-down of the first three:
1) El Camino de Dios – Sam calls this church the “bread church” because they have a beautiful basket of sweet bread in the foyer. This church is bilingual. All the worship is done in both English and Spanish. An American pastor preaches in English and a translator relays the message in Spanish. We enjoyed this church very much, but couldn’t resist the feeling that it was a church geared more towards tourists and mission groups. We believe the church is doing great things, but weren’t so convinced it was for us.
2) Cordero de Dios – This church had a very familiar feel. This means they sang hymns we recognized, followed a familiar format, etc. There was something about this church, however, that didn’t make me feel like it was the right fit.
3) The Presbyterian mission – This particular Sunday we even had someone from the church come pick us up and welcome us very warmly. This church was very small (perhaps 20 members). This was our saddest Sunday, because Sam had a very hard time at this church. Basically, the children’s pastor didn’t take the best approach to introducing Sam. He pointed out to all the kids that “God has sheep, all sheep are different colors, and today we have a little white sheep.” Unfortunately, kids pointed…and laughed at my sweet little white sheep. (I was on the scene by this point). Sam got very upset and said that he didn’t understand why they were laughing so much when he hadn’t even told a joke. The rest of the morning progressed in a bit of an uncomfortable manner. We took Sam to McDonald’s that day for the first time. He ate chicken nuggets and felt much better.
After about a month, we really began to pray diligently about where we should worship, what would be best for our children, where we could serve and find community and have all the wonderful things we all desire in a church. We had prayed before, but perhaps not so diligently.
Around the same time, we started to consider hosting a home-church here at our house. There were several reasons we thought we were feeling lead this way and began to pray to ask God to pave the way if it was right. Here are a few reasons we thought seriously about this option:
• We are acquaintances with two missionary couples who had both expressed a similar frustration with finding a church home. We had thought perhaps a home Bible study group would minister to them. And plus, we thought it would be cool to be a missionary to the missionaries. 
• We very much desire a church home where we can invite friends. At this time, I already had a good friend in my neighborhood that was asking wonderful, spiritual questions and told us she would be very interested in attending something in our home.
• We could be flexible with the time.
• We had at least two other encounters with people that we felt like we could invite to a home Bible study.
Granted some of the reasons were a bit selfish, but I really feel like we approached the idea openly – meaning we were happy if it happened and we were happy if it wasn’t the right thing. The one thing we wanted to avoid was starting a home church just because we “didn’t like” the other options, or because we wanted to serve ourselves only. We want to serve God.
Three weeks ago Saturday I had coffee with one of the missionary wives. I told her about our idea and had honestly anticipated planning out some details with her. Surprisingly to me, she wasn’t very enthused. She felt like it wasn’t something they were interested in at the time and explained that their current schedule wouldn’t allow consistent commitment. I was bummed.
Later that same day (the same day) we were in the park. Ruthie started to play ball with another little girl about her age and so naturally, I started to talk to the little girl’s mom. The mom (a Central American woman whose name is Leslie) shared that she is a missionary and is married to an American named Seth. After a nice conversation, I asked about where she attended church and explained that we were really hoping to find a place to worship.
She shared with me the name and location of her church, but didn’t seem too enthused about inviting me. She shared that her church is very expressive and that her own husband was uncomfortable when he first started attending. She said we were welcome, but she wasn’t sure how we would like it.
That evening Stephen and I went back and forth with the idea of attending and finally decided we should. I called her at 9:00 p.m. that night to clarify directions and we were at the church the next morning.
It was amazing. It was different. It was like nothing I have ever experienced before. The church is pure Pentecostal love. The music is very loud. They prophesy. They speak in tongues. During prayer, the women cover their heads. They dance in the aisle with tambourines. It’s wild.
When we left the service that morning I could sense that Stephen and I were both even nervous to ask each other how we felt about it. Stephen finally broke the ice and admitted that he really liked it. I felt such relief because I did, too!
The congregation is about 300 members strong. The impression that we get is that the majority of the congregation is working, middle class. The pastor is very dynamic, intelligent, and educated. They have a structured children’s area that is well-staffed and loving. Sam has enjoyed himself all three weeks. Last week he cried because we didn’t stay longer.
Unless something really creeps us out, we feel pretty committed to the church even after just three weeks. Here’s a few reasons why:
• It’s different. I think God likes different, or we would all be the same. (That’s deep if you let it sink in a second.) It’s nice to experience something so different sometimes.
• I like the pastor.
• I feel God’s presence.
• I like that they have structure and freedom in their worship service, which is a hard combo to pull off.
• It’s a place I can invite others.
So, if you remember earlier in the story, I mentioned a good friend I have that has been asking wonderful, spiritual questions. I invited her to my new church. Today she came. I confess, I somehow I managed to be confident and nervous about inviting her all at the same time. You just never really know how someone who has been mostly unchurched will respond to all the Pentecostal love. I took a deep breath and trusted God. And of course God moved and worked in his amazing ways. During the worship time, the pastor came over to her, and very privately told her that God loved her, God wanted good things in her life, and that God was the source of real life. My friend started to cry. Really cry, because she was obviously touched. As the service progressed, my friend participated more and more. We debriefed a little in the car on the way home, but I can confidently say that God wants her so badly and is moving in some great ways. I am privileged to be a part of it. I’m happy my wild Pentecostal love church has something to do with it, too.

Ruth Noel

In Ruth's short 15 months of life, she has had three bouts of breathing/lung issues. We have been told by the doc that her symptoms are most likely precursers to asthma and are allergy induced.
This past Saturday Ruthie started coughing and showing signs of shortness of breath. It didn't really surprise us, considering her history, so we monitored her and pulled out the nebulizer.
On Monday, I took her to a pediatrician (Dr. Rivas) just to verify my hunch was correct. He, too, diagnosed allergies and said she had no lung infection, no ear infection, no throat infection. We went home and continued with the Zyrtec.
By Wednesday, unfortunately, Ruthie was obviously doing worse instead of better. Lots of coughing and looooottts of crying. (OK, I contributed to the looooootts of crying because I cry when I'm tired. Or nervous. Or just because sometimes.) Thursday she woke up with a fever and was very lethargic. I called Dr. Rivas back who had us come in yesterday to the office. This time he did hear infection in her lungs and was much more concerned. (So was Mommy! There's just something about having a sick child in a third world country that is unsettling. It's just my American mentality, I'm sure, but I'm a Momma and I felt nervous yesterday. I even called our pediatrician in the US because I'm such a nervous American. She assured me his treatment was good and that she was sure Ruthie would be better soon.)
So, more breathing treatments and the antibiotic started yesterday. By last night she as already markedly better! I think Ruthie and I both got our best nights sleep last night since her cough intially began. Today we go back again to Dr. Rivas so he can monitor the response to the treatment after 24 hours.
Ruthie is tough and I'm proud of her. I know what a life of allergies and asthma is like and I know she hasn't felt good all week. Thanks be to God for the 21st century, doctors, advancement in medicine, telephones, Internet and all the lovely technology that helps my Ruthis feel better. Thanks be to God for God who is truly the great physician.

A Little out of Order

Should have posted these pics with the entry about Sam's school. Better late than never. Enjoy!






Sam and Miss Andrea.
Where all the pre-school action happens.



Lining up for the morning assembly. Each morning the entire school prays
and sings songs together.
Sam's super best bud at school, Diego. I think they mostly communicate the
language of friend love. :)

And finally, props to little sister Ruthie (sitting in the common area at school). Sister helps take and pick Sam up from school everyday. So sweet and so helpful!

A Rough Go...But Not Really

The sun eventually comes out after the rains, but sometimes it's just hard to believe. The Dove family is starting to see the rays peek through the dark clouds both literally and figuratively after a (sort-of) trying week and a half. (Disclaimer: I say "sort of," "not really," "a bit," etc. because everything must be seen with perspective. What I'm about to share is really not that bad...comparatively.)
Tuesday of this week (October 5) was the first day in nine consecuetive days that it did not rain constantly. It's amazing the effect weather can have on a disposition, but the nine days of non-stop rain was rough. There was definitely a sense of feeling trapped inside our indoor-outdoor house.
During these nine days, Ruthie, sweet Ruthie, started to cut her top molar teeth. I thought this was strange since she has yet to cut her canine teeth. Then I realized she's cutting all four of them at once and the molars just happened to break through first. Poor baby still doesn't have totally sunny skies. It's been a rough go for her.
During these past nine days, Sam has been in quite the mood and it unfortunately continues. Sam's behavior is atrocious and I'm racking my brain and praying hard to figure out the best way to handle it. The behavior issues are not just as home, but at school as well. Today the teacher reports he threw crayons...at his friends...on purpose. I know something more is going on because he's also wet the bed on a few occassions this past week and a half. Sammy is in dire need of some metaphorical sunny skies. His mommy is, too.
Then there's my sweet hulsband. Stephen unfortunately was the first of the four of us to get hit with a stomach bug. I'll respect him enough to keep details at bay, but I hated seeing him sick this week. Stephen also had to endure having me as a terrible nurse because I'm too afraid of getting sick myself.
So Tuesday when the rain finally stopped, we experienced our first earthquake. The center was 8 kilometers from our house and was a 3.8 on the Richter scale. No, it wasn't that big of a deal, but the bed moved and I was scared. And then I started thinking about the danger of earthquakes...and torrential storms...and erupting volcanoes...and you get the idea. I can easily freak myself out.
So, it's been a bit of a rough go for the Doves, but not really. Because the rain eventually ends. Sometimes when the rain ends, there's a earthquake and that freaks you out, too. But then everything really does end and the sun comes out. I'm looking forward to playing in the sunshine on our beautiful terrace.

Just a Little Misunderstanding

Everyday I pick Sam up from school I ask his teacher how he did and how he behaved. For the first time, he had a negative report today! The teacher proceeded to tell me that Sam got out of his seat without permission and that when she told him to come back, he did, but slammed the door and was very angry. Yikes.
On our way home, Sam and I talked about what happened. Sam's response? "Mom, I just had to go to the bathroom and sometimes she doesn't understand me. That's why I'm frustrated."
Poor Sam is on such a big learning curve! We practiced how to raise his hand and say, "Bano, por favor" lots this afternoon. Sam's got it down, but I'm thinking I'll teach the teacher tomorrow that bathroom = bano. :)