The whole idea of pulling up 8-year-long roots in Shell and going to a country where we hardly knew anybody, with two children in school, was still difficult to process. There were so many things to do, so many details, even those little things that keep popping up when one least expects (or wants!) them. We had to weigh priorities and wring our brains out to coordinate everything...sort of like when you're trying a new 32-step gourmet recipe...or planning a holiday dinner for 63 people...or sorting through 27 years of loose photographs...or whatever...(not that I've ever done those things!).
One major project was filming a video for our deputation (which is what it's called when you go around speaking in churches or at homes or with friends, etc., about your ministry plans, with the purpose of allowing them the chance to commit to praying for you and/or supporting you financially). The friend that produced my music album once more came to our aid. I wrote the script, all four of us took part in the video, and our friend filmed and produced it. On it we talked of the various ministries we'd had in Shell, and the desire we now had to become career missionaries. I also sang one of my original songs.
Paperwork for getting Germán, Dan and Debbie their "green cards", to live legally in the U.S., had its rather interesting moments, like when someone interviewing us at the embassy demanded crossly, "You're an American citizen. Why aren't your children American citizens?" It seemed to her a case of gross neglect on my part! But American law wouldn't let me - it wasn't my fault! Dan was born in Australia and Debbie in Ecuador. I could only pass on my citizenship if I had been born in the U.S... which I hadn't (I was born in Mexico) OR lived a minimum of ten years in the U.S... which I hadn't - mostly I'd lived in Ecuador, with five years in Australia. By 1989, in my 35 years, I had only lived a total of around five or six years in the States, I think.
Sometimes our souls and spirits seem to be in the same kind of whirlwind activity, don't they? So much to do, think about, decide, meditate on...while trying to keep our focus on our Leader's baton.
One-Man Band
Lord, help me to coordinate
these parts of me that need to raise
great efforts to consolidate,
and so produce a pleasing praise.
When one part's independent shoot
takes itself off to sing alone,
the others promptly follow suit
and wander loudly on their own!
It must be hard upon Your ear
at times (and maybe on Your eyes!).
Sure, all the elements are here...
they just don't always harmonize!
The drumbeat of my heart should strive
to fit the tune that floods my mind,
as thoughts and words leap into life
and march to find their place in line.
My hands should add a counterpoint,
like tingling tears of tambourines.
My feet should listen close, to dance
the beat our music really means.
The same direction all my dreams
should follow -freely, not by rote -
to join each other in the streams
that flow together toward each note.
Then to my voice I'd give full rein
to weave Your music true and deep,
a music played with all I am,
that makes us laugh, that makes us weep.
Oh, to what heights this would conduce,
if all of me would understand!
What priceless songs we could produce
upon this stage within Your hand!
--Becky Rhon
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Last week I shared some stories of how God provided financially for us...and He continued even as we started out in a "foreign land"...by providing us with a car for $1. It wasn't running, but it served us well for three years! I'll tell you about it when you join me next time as we go "overseas" (to the U.S.) and begin our odyssey in a not-very-well-known-to-us land. God bless you all.
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