An Odyssey of Two Soul Mates

A little over sixty years ago, a bold young man named Paul wrote a letter to a beautiful young woman named Dorothy. They had recently met at a Wycliffe Bible conference. Both loved the Lord dearly. Both had intentions of going to the mission field. Paul to Mexico. Dorothy to Peru. They only had a few conversations during that conference, but Paul was smitten. He wanted someone to do ministry with him in Mexico. He wanted a wife. And he wanted Dorthy to be that wife. So after leaving the conference and praying about it, he made a bold move. He wrote a letter and attached a six-cent airmail stamp...

Dear Dorothy,

When I learned the other day that you would not be returning to the conference, I wanted to ask if I might write to you. Realizing the seriousness of the implications of such an act, under the present circumstances, I decided not to say anything. After Sunday night, however, I was sure that I wanted to become better acquainted with you. I have been thinking and praying about it, and I am now ready to take the responsibility for the commitment that this letter involves.

I said to myself, "You must not think of Dorothy; she is going to Peru and you are going to Mexico." But what I have observed seems to indicate that you are not certain that Peru is the Lord's place for you. I remember your speaking of "confusion about the future..." (I know that you are trusting Him to guide, and He is faithful.) I think that you are a rare jewel of a girl, Dorothy. I've not know you for long, but I've seen your love for Christ, your sweet personality and your family and church background.

Doubtless my letter has broken the ice. Perhaps I'm presumptuous and impetuous. (But "faint heart never won fair lady...") The thing that makes me happy about this matter is that it is done before the Lord, and he knows my heart -- every desire, every purpose, every motive. "I delight to do they will, O my God." I recall again His faithfulness to perfect that which concerneth us, His own. May I have the great privilege of receiving a letter from you soon? (If I am out of order, please tell me frankly. Perhaps it would be good for me to be told. (But I am hoping for better than that...)

Yours for Mexico's Indians,

Paul

About three months later, they were married. Almost immediately, they left for Mexico and began living among an Indian tribe known as the Chinantects. Their job: translate the New Testament into the Chinantec language. This is one of my favorite pictures of them during those early years:

Notice the dirt floor. Paul and Dorothy and their kids born in Mexico recall that dirt floor...and the mosquito nets...and the many other "complications" of missionary life. Only, not surprisingly, they didn't call them "complications."

Paul's job was translation. Later, he also worked for Wycliffe as a photographer. He had an artistic eye and captured numerous photos from around the globe. Gorgeous photos. Some of my favorite photos, however, are the ones he took of his own family. Like this one, of Dorothy taking care of their daughter, Marlene.

Yes, Marlene. The same Marlene who would grow up and marry Travis and eventually have a daughter named Kelly. Kelly would grow up to marry Joey and have two kids - Jonah and Hannah. Jonah and Hannah don't know much right now about all the stories of their great-grandparents, Paul and Dorothy Smith. I hope someday they remember traveling down to visit them and celebrate their 60th wedding anniversary last weekend.

And someday when Jonah and Hannah are a little older, I will have the privilege of reading to them a wonderful book called One More Mountain to Climb.

It's a thrilling missionary adventure written by... Paul and Dorothy Smith.

To them, it's their story of serving in obedience to our heavenly Father. To me, it's my heritage. (And let me tell you, my heritage blows me away!) I get choked up re-reading so many of the pages even as I write this post. My grandparents make me proud. They inspire me. They bring me joy. Someday it will be an honor and privilege to read their story to Jonah and Hannah. Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa! And...

Happy 60th Wedding Anniversary! We love you!

My Super Sweet Five

There is or used to be a show on MTV called "My Super Sweet Sixteen" in which spoiled-rotten teeny-bopper divas are followed by camera crews who document the planning and execution of an extravagant birthday party, replete with gold-platted Hummer limos and private performances by a popular vocalist (provided their spoken name consists of a least one or more individual letters). In true reality TV-fashion, what keeps you watching is not the ostentatious bling, but rather the drama created by the ridiculous manner in which these doting parents indulge their little Verucas, which fuels the little Verucas' ungrateful and entitled attitudes. Most sane people watch that and, after quickly turning the channel and taking something for nausea, resolve that they would never allow their daughters to drift so far into that egocentric, don't-care-how-I-want-it-now-mindset. At least, that was my response the one time I watched the show.

Before I go further, I should clarify that our birthday party for Hannah's fifth last weekend was not anywhere close to the excess displayed on TV (except for the gold limo). It was, in all fairness, a birthday party for Hannah, and so we had all the trappings: the song, presents, and cake, but nothing deserving a camera crew. It did however, smack of girly-diva-rockstar-princess-ocity, the likes of which I'm still coming to grips with, and so in my own attempt at recovery, I'm recounting it in blog form.

I also need to point out that my wife is awesome.

Friday, I got home from work to find my backyard full of children: four whole children were skittering around, seeming to defy the second law of thermodynamics. The more they expelled energy, the more energy was created. The cast consisted of Jonah, Hannah, and nieces Anna and Abigail (the latter two on a rent-to-own program). We hopped in the car and began driving to Branson, MO, the Christian Las Vegas. Kelly immediately loaded her specially made "Hannah's B-Day Party Mix" CD, cranked up the base, and we all got our hawk in the sky with Hannah Montana as she told us how to do the Hoedown Throwdown. Next, we were all nodding our heads like "yeah" with Miley Cyrus. (btw- has anyone ever seen Hannah Montana and Clark Kent at the same time? Makes you think.)

Before the Missouri state line all four (yes, four) children had applied their strawberry-flavored lip gloss and strawberry perfume provided them in their personalized Travel Party Packs, and Hannah had already changed into her brand new birthday jammies. Other girlyish- type items distributed included Strawberry Shortcake pencils, markers, notepads, slap bracelets, necklaces, place settings, blue-ray players, Lear Jets, and the like.

The next 38 hours on the road seemed to just fly by as the party mix cd had a staggering 9 whole songs on it, most of which were performed by the latest genetically-engineered Disney child stars. Turns out a dream is a wish your heart makes. It was also during this car trip that I learned that Hannah has learned (from her cousins) how to talxt: the time-saving and ubercool text lingo for tweens and Paris Hilton. When we arrived at the hotel, the kids donned their swimsuits and paddled around at the Lawrence Welk Memorial Indoor Splashatorium. The next morning, we had custom-made birthday doughnuts

along with a manicure and pedicure for those not shaking too badly. (Jonah and I watched the Clone Wars while this was going on.)

After a brief run through an outlet mall, the rest of the day was spent at Silver Dollar City where this was the highlight, as you've already seen.

The following day was Hannah's traditional birthday party at Grammy and Papa's where everyone in the tri-state area attended (thanks again, everyone!). Several weeks ago, Hannah had colored a picture of a birthday cake and told Kelly that it was exactly what she wanted for her own cake. So, naturally, Kelly did her darndest to create that cake for her and I thought it turned out really good.

The problem was gravity, and inertia, and a poor economy. It was, however, delicious, as everyone agreed, and most importantly, Hannah thought it was perfect. She pointed out that it looked a lot like the building we had just seen the day before in Branson.

After cake, we circled around Hannah and watched while she opened her presents. I think she did a fairly good job of taking the time to thank her courtiers. Later however, we learned from a sniveling Hannah that she was kindly reminded by a well-meaning cousin that, quote: "It's not all about you!". Judging from her manner, I think that this had struck a chord in Hannah as she realized the truth in it. After a weekend of indulgence, Hannah was reminded to put things into perspective. Since that time, I have noticed a few glimpses of some truly other-focused behaviors, which although not altogether absent, have previously been few and far-between.

I can say with confidence that this admonition was the best, and hopefully longest-lasting present she (or any of us) could receive.

(For you hardcore Teach and Tickle junkies, I couldn't post this without a link to this.)

Chore Helpers

When do you do chores?

I do most my chores (cleaning, grocery shopping, etc.) while the kids are away at school. There are a number of reasons why, but mostly for my own sanity. I like things done right. I like to start and finish without interruptions. I like shopping without kids. Those are just a few.

Both kids are away at school on Wednesdays, so I was able to get quite a lot done around the house today. However, as I was cleaning, it occurred to me that I might be doing a disservice to my kids by not allowing them to see me do most our housework. I worried that since the kids don't see me cleaning house very often, they might grow up thinking that I never cleaned. (Heaven forbid!) Then they might not learn to clean house themselves someday. Eeek!

Those thoughts were running through my head today when I went to pick up Hannah from preschool. That is when she handed me her craft for the day and said,

"Mom, you will never have to set the table again! I will do it from now on. Just tell me when it's dinnertime and I will set the table!"

SCORE! The kids usually help set the table at dinnertime, but usually under my close supervision. (i.e. - "Jonah you put the plates on the table, Hannah take the water glasses to the table...") Hannah pretty much offered to do it all from now on.

Then I looked at her craft.

It tells the story of the "Kingdom of Dinnertime." It is a cute little story of Princess Spoon and Prince Knife and the Evil Mr. Fork. It is an adorable story that helps kids remember how to set a proper table. I remember when Jonah learned about this a few years ago and he talked about it for weeks.

But look closely at the craft.

Oh snap! Do you notice something wrong? The knife, spoon and glass are supposed to be on the right and the fork on the left. At first, I worried that all my life I had been setting a table wrong. Nope. Not the case. Rather, this is a classic case of a little girl so excited about her "Kingdom of Dinnertime" that she failed to remember which side is right and which side is left. Classic. I might keep this craft forever.

Oh well. At least I'll never have to set another table at our house. But if you ever come over for dinner and notice table is set backwards, just smile and go with it.

If you have kids, when do you do chores? While the kids are away? While they nap? Once they go to bed? With your kids watching? Helping? If they help, do you follow behind them and re-do everything so it gets done right?

And while I am asking, do you have any tips teaching kids how to remember which is right and which is left? I might need that one soon.

FYI: 5 + idk = lol

Hannah turned five this weekend. FIVE! You go girl!

Turning five means a number of things to her:

1) She can do the Hoedown Throwdown. (Because, "if you're 5 or 82, this is something you can do..") There must be an exception for 30 somethings, because I seriously can't move that fast with any form of coordination. (Don't tell Hannah, but she can't either! lol)

2) She starts school. A while back, Jonah informed her that she would not get to start going to his school until she turned five. She thought she would start the day after she turned five. Not quite.

3) She can speak in text lingo. Her girl cousins went with us on a little birthday getaway and taught her how to speak text lingo. "idk" is her favorite right now. (fyi - "idk" stands for "I don't know" - who knew that?) I had a little sit down lesson with Hannah this morning to explain to her how "idk" could mean "I don't know." (Just a little teach moment, you might say.) She might be the only 5 year old around that understands how the "kn" can make the "n" sound. I have decided that a 5 year old speaking text lingo is cute, like, once. And then it is not.

4) Strawberry Shortcake - she is obsessed right now. I totally don't mind because I LOVE the smell of strawberry shortcake toys - totally takes me back to my childhood. Our house is a very happy smelling house right now thanks to some sweet gifts from family members at her party last night.

5) I just asked Hannah what being five means to her. I'll give you one guess what her answer was. Yep. "idk"

Joey is going to do a re-cap of our weekend birthday getaway with the cousins, but until he posts something, I'll share this little photo of the girls living it up as southern belles at Silver Dollar City:

ttfn

our maple leaf fell...

Dr. Ray "Grandpa" Jones

passed into eternity on Saturday, October 31st at 6 p.m.

He will be missed more than words can express.

We'll celebrate his life and home going in a service later this week.

Our Maple Leaf written by Joey Oct 21, 2009

Dear Grandpa Jones written by Kelly August 30, 2009

Pony World Song

Joey has a new auto-tune app on his iPhone. Hannah made up a song and recorded it using the auto-tune app. This was the adorable result:

(I haven't figured out how to share audio files on the blog, so I had to create a movie with the audio as background. The picture is one I took of her this afternoon when she dressed herself.)

The End.

UPDATE:

Just for kicks, I sent this audio to My Little Pony (since she was singing about her pony she got in a McDonalds Happy Meal). I got an email back the next morning that said they were "thrilled" that I took the time to send them the clip and they were forwarding it on the the marketing department AND... sending Hannah a free My Little Pony in the mail! How cool is that? Sounds like they got a "tickle" out of it just as much as we did. :)

Our Maple Leaf

As many of you know, every year for all of Kelly's life and the past thirteen-ish years of my life, on the third full weekend of October, our family has makes a pilgrimage to the tiny college town of Baldwin City, Kansas. For a quick recap, click here. Now that you're up to speed...

I'm not sure why, and I don't remember when, but at some point, I instituted a personal ritual of hunting a single maple leaf - the brightest and the most beautiful I could find - the one leaf that shone out among thousands as the quintessence of the Maple Leaf Festival - the "One Leaf to Rule Them All" - from Granny and Grandpa's driveway, and then take it home, and proudly nail it to my garage wall.

Hey, you have your traditions and I have mine.

Anyway, this year's Leaf is not like years' past. It didn't feel right picking a traditional leaf this year as there was a striking difference this Maple Leaf Festival: Grandpa.

So, this year's Leaf is very beautiful in a very different way.

Please don't be mislead, we had a wonderful time, as usual. We got to see lots of family, had front-row seats for the parade, had a turkey leg and funnel cake, perused kitsch and art alike, and attended the service at the Baldwin Gospel Chapel.

Besides those staples, this year was unique in that our family and Travis were the only delegation from Tulsa, as there was a mission conference and illness that kept the rest of the clan at home. As Granny has moved into her new diggs, the ol' homestead is steadily being renovated and rejuvenated under the tireless efforts of Aunt Ruthie, et al. Uncle Paul and his family were busy all weekend painting several rooms and shampooing carpets, which was quite an accomplishment, considering the constant oblivious juvenile traffic through the home, not to mention the 42 foot-tall Great Dane that Caleb and Sabrina brought with them (which incidentally, is now my favorite dog of all time).

But the elephant that was not in the room was Grandpa. Though he is still with us at the time of this posting, our visit to him in the nursing home was difficult to say the least. He could meet your eyes and smile and sort of wink at you, and then you would begin to wonder if he was still looking at your eyes and smiling at you, as if his thoughts had suddenly been put on pause. He couldn't speak, nor could he mouth words, though it looked sometimes as if he were trying. Frankly, I felt awkward speaking to the other family in the room without feeling like I was excluding or ignoring him. Leaving was the worst part in that we had to tell him we were going but having to simply hope that he would understand, or could understand, while not receiving any feedback.

Before, from the moment we walked in the door at Granny and Grandpa's house, to watching him wave goodbye in our rear view mirror, Grandpa's warm presence was consistent throughout any visit to Baldwin. His speech (which was plentiful) was always full of grace and seasoned with salt. I never remember a single conversation with him where he did not turn it back to the Lord and people's need of Him. But this year, his state caused a vacuum that was palpable to everyone. That void caused me to think of what a great heritage we have and what great big black, shiny shoes we have to fill.

The maple leaf I chose this year at first glance is not very attractive - especially when surrounded by so many other bright and colorful leaves. But more careful examination reveals a leaf once green and full of life, strong, and vibrant. A leaf that thrived on the end of a branch that fed it life-giving nutrients while it stood up to strong winds and storms. A leaf that slowly but gloriously aged to reveal its true colors of bright yellow, red and orange. A leaf that remained firmly anchored to that branch long after others blew away in the wind.

And in fact, that is where this leaf remains.

Money and the Mouth

Jonah's teacher informed me last night at parent teacher conferences that we may want to work with him at home a little more in the area of money. He knows his coins and what they mean, but when he is challenged to add different combinations of coins, he gets all goofed up. Since Jonah had a fever and threw up yesterday, I kept him home from school today. When lunchtime came, I had this grand idea of making the kids use coins to "pay" for their lunches. This is what I did:

Hannah is still learning coin values, so her side (the left) was a bit simple, but Jonah's required him to mix and add different coins. He LOVED it. Both Jonah and Hannah ATE IT UP. Success!

Anybody have any other good ideas for teaching kids how to add different combinations of coins?

Stay tuned people...Joey is working on another blog post and it is a good one. One of those sentimental tear-jerkers. Of course, I am a bit of a sap. Anyway, I'll try to get him to post it tonight or tomorrow.

Tickle Me Tuesday

A random assortment of "tickle" moments from our household on this Tuesday...

Mimi gave Jonah and Hannah some card games. They love playing them. Right now the favorite is "Old Maid," but they always forget and call it "Old Fashion." I keep hearing Jonah say, "Hey Hannah, you want to play 'Old Fashion?" I don't know why, but that tickles.

Cousins Micah and Ezra spent the night at our house this past Friday. They complained that they were hot when we put them to bed. I think they stripped down to keep from being too hot. But apparently, it got really cold overnight. At 6:30 am I woke up to Ezra shouting "I'm going downstairs, I'm cold." Joey went to check on him and he was buck naked and it was 62 degrees upstairs. Poor guy.

Joey gave Hannah a piece of candy and I mentioned to Hannah that she has the best daddy in the world. She responded to me (not him), "Yes, mommy. You did a good job picking out a daddy. Good job!" Then she gave me a big thumbs up. I think Joey took it as a thank you.

Joey took the plunge and bought Crossway's ESV Study Bible. It's rockin' awesome. We might be on our way to becoming an ESV household. On his way out of the store, he picked up a mini ESV Bible too. I laughed and called it his "impulse Bible."

Jonah often starts sentences with this phrase "Mom, I didn't want to tell you this, but..." Usually this beginning means 1) he has done something wrong or 2) he and I are about to have a really cool mother-son conversation about something deep like God, sin or...farts. It's one of those total open door kind of conversations, you know. This time, he started with "Mom, I didn't want to tell you this, but..." and finished with "...I hate K-I-S-S" (he spelled out kiss because he didn't want to say it). Then he kind of half-grinned. Apparently there is a group of third grade girls who are stalking him at recess and talking about the "kiss." (Come any closer girls and you are going to encounter one Jonah momma going postal.) Seriously though, it tickled me that he "hates K-I-S-S" and feels the freedom to share that with me. It led to a good conversation.

Speaking of recess, Jonah also told me that he spent one entire recess crying but trying not to let anyone see. Apparently one of his best buddies didn't want to play with him that day. BROKE MY HEART. That, my friends, did NOT tickle.

Hannah is on a blue kick. I offered to help her pick out something to wear yesterday and her response was, "okay, as long as it is blue or beautiful."

Our toilet started leaking so Joey had to figure out the problem. He took the entire toilet out and carried it to the backyard. I wanted nothing to do with any of that. Turns out it just needed a new wax seal. Joey had it all fixed and put back together within a few hours. I am tickled pink to have a husband who can handle all those icky jobs around the house. Thanks honey! Good job. ;)

I slept in this morning because we don't have Bible Study due to fall break. I woke up at 7:00 and found both kids UNDER my bed. I must have been really tired. Totally didn't hear them come downstairs OR crawl under the bed. They thought it was hilarious. Little boogers. I love them though.

Stinky Feet

Hannah is all girl. Everything about Hannah screams G-I-R-L from head to toe. And it's that toe part that I want to talk about today. Oh, the toes! Here we go...

Toes go inside shoes. And shoes are an important part of being a girl. I've never been amazing at the whole shoe thing, but I like to pretend that I at least know a little bit about the topic.

I know I am opinionated about ridiculous things, but I can't think of many more times when we women need to wear big white tennis shoes unless we are doing one of two things: 1) exercising or 2) cleaning house. Hannah doesn't understand this yet, of course. So when her dad gave her some tennis shoes, she didn't have a clue why I didn't want her to wear them with (for example) this:

(Excuse the poor picture quality, she wouldn't stop moving - another unfortunate side effect of the tennis shoes) Case and point. Four year-olds cannot be trusted to make good fashion judgements when it comes to shoes, so my motto has always been to NOT buy tennis shoes for my girl. My husband missed this memo, unfortunately. I might forgive him when she outgrows those shoes. (Love ya, honey. You know I'm kidding. But next time, let me do the shoe shopping.)

So. We have Hannah's first pair of tennis shoes out of the way. Now we move on to her first pair of heels. A sweet lady from Joey's work gave these shoes to Hannah:

Like a true girly-girl, Hannah LOVES her "heels." She wants to wear them all the time nowadays. She even dealt with blisters the first two days that she wore them, but she persevered and now wears her "heels" like a pro. (In fact, she is better than me. I never learned how to properly wear or walk in heels, so kudos to Hannah for being so awesome at it at such an early age.)

Now to the old standby shoes. Simple brown flats have been a standby for Hannah since she was old enough to wear shoes. Brown goes with most anything in her closet, so these shoes get a lot of use right now:

Cute, yet simple. Nothing much. But here is the horrible catch: these shoes make Hannah's feet stink. And I'm not talking about any kind of cute little girly stink. I'm talking STINK. Seriously. Because she sits behind me in the car and she has this wonderful habit of taking her shoes off the moment we get in the car, I have to smell these stinky feet. Stink City! There was one day I even had to drive home with my head out of the window so I could breath. (Joey tells me that I have the most sensitive nose on the planet and I am a bit of a drama queen, but whatever.) Stinky feet make me want to gag.

Then I smelled a TEACH moment approaching.

People, I have stinky feet too. I'm not talking literally anymore. My stinky feet might be my anger, my apathy, my laziness, my selfishness, my bad habits, my attitude, my tongue, whatever. I can keep my "shoes" on most the time and keep these stinks hidden. But no doubt, my heavenly father smells my "stink" as we ride along in the car of life sometimes. Sometimes the shoes come off. Sometimes I smell it too. Sometimes it makes me want to gag. I'm sure it makes God want to gag too.

But you know what? God doesn't drive home with the window rolled down as if he is about to gag at my "stink." Nope. He takes me home. He graciously offers to wash my feet. To wash the stink away. I let him. And it humbles me. Every time.

Thank you, Lord, for washing my stinky feet.