April

On a perfect spring day with birds singing, flowers blooming, and leaves peeking out for the first time - our brand new friend was set free. The victim of human trafficking in basically a hostage and stravation situation, here she is ready to go home. There are many heroes in this story - some who risked their jobs to help, maids who snuck her food, and others who gave her little handfulls of cash, shoes, and clothing. The weeping, broken woman we met at the beginning of the week changed into the beautiful joyful one who threw her little arms around everyone who helped leaving not a dry eye in her wake. She had also been starved spiritually and it was amazing to watch her revive just by being able to pray with someone and holding a Bible. "I am happy now, because I have my guardian!" she told me, referring to her new Bible. I think nothing of having my Bible close to me - several in fact - that sometimes go unread. In the short time I knew her, she taught me so many lessons that I will never forget. And to see the parade of Moroccans who showed her kindness upon kindness was pure beauty after the difficult spring we've had.

In spite of a huge play area, playground, and green soft grass everywhere - where do the children like to play best? In the wild, untamed, rocky, trashy, 'back-40' behind the main residential area. Here they can make infinite messes, build clubhouses out of trash, dig in the dirt, hide from the little kids, and plant seeds of whatever they've eaten that day!

Our living room transformed into a jungle for Katrina's birthday party. Easy to set up but two days to clean up! I'm all for outdoor parties from now on! We had a pre-party (waiting for kids to come) outside with whoever was around which ended up being about 30 kids. Then we kicked out all the boys and had the birthday party inside. Later the boys came back and completed the trashing of our house. What a day! But what fun!

What do you do with a gaping hole in a cake? Make it into a dangerous volcano threatening the very lives of the unsuspecting jungle animals nearby of course...

Slight Misunderstanding

Last week I asked a storeowner if he had any music I could play at kid birthday-parties so that the Moroccan kids can sing along. I had happy Moroccan or French children's music in mind. The next time I went in, he excitedly showed me his find - a Nirvana CD with a picture of a baby swimming on the cover. I stifled a laugh, imagining playing the screaming heavy-metal band at a birthday party. Just because there's a baby on the cover doesn't mean it's appropriate for babies! I politely told him that wasn't quite what I was looking for, but he helpfully offered to play it just so I could be sure. Moments later, the music was blaring through the entire (three blocks) of the downtown. Shouting and laughing over the music, Karen 'thanked' me for treating a whole section of Ifrane to American heavy metal!

visitors

UPDATE: While waiting at the airline desk with a crowd of people, the Royal Air Maroc desk completely shut down, closed shop, and walked away. So that's it. How depressing for people who really need to go somewhere! Thankfully Natalia and her friend can still retrieve some of their spring break and have a good time somewhere else - as long as they don't have to go by plane!!!

(Previous post)

For you Cornerstone/TMBC folks, you'll remember the Schwiens. Their daughter, Natalia, is visiting with a friend this week. She is studying in Paris this spring and is trying to get out of Europe which is CRAZY right now with the ash cloud. They couldn't get out yesterday, so we hope they are able to get out today! I'll 'talk' to you all again in a week!

Mother Bear

Last Thursday, a neighbor called me saying that her son had told her that a teacher had spanked him. She was irate saying she never spanks her kids because she herself is a product of the ‘abusive Moroccan system’ which beats, hits, and screams at kids their whole education. I went over to see her just as she was walking towards the school saying she was going to beat the teacher up. I pulled her back to the apartment and made her promise that she would only talk to the director and not beat up the teacher. She agreed and we headed back toward the school.

Waiting for the director in a large, public room, said teacher walked in. My neighbor went completely crazy mad - Screaming and springing to her feet, she slapped the teacher across the face. I pulled her back on the couch and restrained her on the couch for several minutes until someone finally removed the teacher (thank goodness for mandt training). Then she proceeded to scream at the director for probably half an hour. The director stayed amazingly calm, and later I realized something funny actually happened during that time. As they were having this HEATED discussion, they were polite enough to switch every now and then into English for my benefit! Finally I got my neighbor out of the building where I promptly semi-yelled at her - “What do you think you are doing??? This is how wars start!” “I don’t care!” she yelled back, “If she treats my child like a savage, I’ll treat her like a savage!” We went back to our house where another neighbor and I talked to her for over an hour trying to calm her down.

The next day, the teachers went on strike against ‘parental aggression.’ I was amazed at how calm the Moroccan parents were about it all. They are obviously used to strikes! We Americans, meanwhile, were freaking out! The kids are expelled from school and the mother is not allowed on site.

Yesterday school was back in session and I had a very good talk with Kendra’s teacher. This community is already so split apart by all the conflicts we’ve had this year, it will take a lot of work to get through this.

So much for a boring day!

Good News!

(Picture from last summer)

We are happy to tell you that Gerald's mom came through eye surgery just fine and it looks like it was a success! Gerald's dad is also feeling much better and may not even have to have a heart cath. Sigh of relief! Their pastor was kind enough to come all the way to Wichita (3 hours) for the surgery and stay overnight in the same hotel afterward. He's like a third son to them and we are so thankful that they have 'adopted' each other! Troy 'just happened' to be in KS for meetings and was also able to be with his folks during this time.

Never Boring

The much lesser-known not-so-triumphal-entry

Churning butter at Tarmelot - they say one cow gives milk that becomes butter much faster than the other cow!

Buttermilk poured out then butter scraped off top - over an hour of work just to give us butter with our snack!

Have you ever had a time you dreamed of a boring week?

Here’s a run-down of what’s been happening here and afar -

- Gerald’s Mom had eye surgery yesterday and we are awaiting the results
- Gerald’s Dad has developed some heart issues which are being checked out
- The large, Christian-run school in Casa has had a month of lawsuits, threats, 5 deportations, and a defamation website
- The Children’s Home near us had almost daily visits and questionings from police for several weeks. Things have calmed down now.
- The handicap center near us which employs a friend has been shut down because the boss was not allowed in the country a few weeks ago. Plans for a future center near us have been stopped.
- We estimate about 70 Ch. expats have either been deported or denied entry into the country since March 6 - none with any charges being pressed - the actual number of people affected is far greater because this does not include families or businesses shut down as a result.

- We receive discouraging news almost daily.
- The press has mostly been full of lies, but several articles critical of what is going on written by brave journalists have come out as well.
- Moroccan Christians have released a statement asking for rights to meet and be officially recognized - and saying they were never coerced or paid to believe what they do (contrary to popular opinion). Think Civil Rights movement.
- The Children’s home whose parents were deported continues to be treated as a crime scene and we are not allowed to visit. The first week the kids were sick and crying all the time and had to be given tranquilizers to sleep, the next week came the rebellion. Our little friend 'Abby' was moved back to the orphanage where she came from and we are waiting to get permission to see her. I can’t really say more than that, but we are in tears over the condition of those on site.
- The same neighbor who had basically imprisoned a maid in the fall did it again just now to a Pilipino woman. To understand the process the university officials had to go through to get the starved, locked-up woman out of there, think "James Bond" crossed with "Days of our Lives" as one friend suggested. The dear woman is now in a safe place and I actually got to meet her last night. When I asked to pray with her, she burst into tears, threw her arms around me, and said, “You are a Christian? I am not alone! I am not alone - thank God, I am not alone!” It was one of those moments when I realized again that our Family is so wonderful - so close - even never having met before - and so beautiful. When we gave her a Bible (hers was taken away), she kissed it and wept. We are so thankful for amazing Moroccan friends who made her freedom possible.

So, do you think it’s OK to pray for a boring week?

Celebrating Life!

Celebrating Easter at a lake with family & friends - note the trumpet guy :)

Our newly-nine-year-old!

Good Friday ten years ago was full of darkness. Only a few short days before, we had lost our first baby in a miscarriage. Walking into the candlelit sanctuary, I saw our pregnant teenage friend out of the corner of my eye. Full of emotion, I dragged myself up to the foot of the cross and knelt. After a few moments, the girl knelt beside me and wrapped her arms around me. Her act touched me deeply and jealousy melted into tears as we wept in front of the cross together – Both of us wondering what the future held.

One of the worst things about a miscarriage is that you have no promise of new life. You cannot see the future. Your little angel has died – and with it, a dream. You cannot see the end of the story.

Never before had Good Friday looked so utterly hopeless. For the first time I understood a tiny bit of what the disciples had felt so many years before. Their Messiah had died – and with him, a dream. They did not know the end of the story.

Almost exactly a year later on April 6, our precious Katrina Ruth was born with the first blossoms of spring. She was barely a week old when we dedicated her on Easter Sunday. “Isn’t that too early?” our concerned mothers asked. But our decision was final. For this Easter we held hope in our arms and for the first time, we really understood what it means to go from despair to hope, from darkness to light, and from death to life.

From Katrina’s birth announcement:
(Based on Song of Solomon 2:10-11)

Arise, my love, my lovely one come,
Winter is past and the rains are gone
Flowers appear, it’s the season of song,
My beautiful one, arise and come with me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Joyous Easter Season to all!!!

Good Friday

This was done by my brother, Stan, on a 15-foot canvas in 15 minutes for part of their Good Friday service a few years ago. I love it because in this picture, Jesus does not look like an emaciated Caucasian like most portraits of him. He looks Middle Eastern. And those eyes....

On my walk this morning I began crying - “Lord, I don’t want to go through Good Friday. I want to skip to Easter. I don’t want to think about your suffering or the suffering of those parentless kids at Village of Hope. Can’t we just fast-forward?”

Just as I took care not to get pricked by the crown of thorns I sewed on the church banner, I carefully avoid pain and suffering each and every day.
It has struck me this year that Jesus set his face towards Jerusalem…towards pain…towards events that are sure to come…towards political schemes that manipulate the weak, towards powerful men who are threatened by the meek.

I find that I run away from all these things. I want to hide my head in the sand or hop on a plane to get away. I can’t even handle getting pricked by a thorn.

But not Jesus. He faced it.

Amazing love
How can it be -
That you, my God
Would die for me?