When The Orange Flower Blooms

Seventy years ago, the village I am currently living in and the surrounding villages would watch for a certain tree to blossom.  Rainy season would creep toward its slow end and then, sprinkled like bright beacons over the low ridges, little orange flowers exploded into color.  When this happened, they knew head-hunting season had begun.

I'm told it was a rite of passage into manhood.  When a boy brought back his first head from a warring village, he returned a man in the eyes of his people.  Today, no signs of their violent past remain.  The people don't speak of it.  "We are ashamed of what we were," they say.  "Why would we talk about it?"  The old ways seem especially forgotten when, despite the orange flowers staring down from the treetops, we hike freely from one village to the next.  We hike through corn ready for harvest and green rice fields, past flowering bananas and loaded coconut trees.  Every now and then, we catch sight of another tree with orange blooms.  It is a great reminder of where God finds each of us, especially as the missionaries here prepare to share the full gospel with this people for the first time.

God has also been reminding me of His great love through a seemingly endless stream of blessings:

1) Just as I was hitting a slump of "Yeah, I'm ready for a spinach salad, a Chipotle burrito, and a nice HOT bath," I received a package from home.  Of course, the package didn't bring a spinach salad or a burrito or a bath, but it DID have lots of love and cream of wheat inside. 

2)  Then, I received and account statement from the office and discovered a very generous monetary gift.  I inquired after who sent it, but no one seems to know!  My hope is that, whoever you are, you read this and know I am extremely thankful!  God bless you and yours! 

3)  Yet another blessing came my way just yesterday.  When I packed up and moved to the Philippines, I had a pipe dream of learning the local language.  As of yesterday, I am officially in part-time language study!  Realistically, I know that I won't become anywhere near fluent in the seven months I have left, but I'm stoked to learn what I can.  It is a humongous blessing to have the people helping me take time out of their busy schedules to learn a language I may never use again, just because I want to learn.

All in all, I'm a slightly snuffly, yet very happy camper!

TTFN (Ta-Ta For Now!)

Another One Bites the Dust

It's been another full week here in Northern Luzon.  A week full of sickness, that is.  S and J have been passing different head colds back and forth since Christmas, so it's no surprise that they are still hacking and coughing like champs.  In the village around us, chicken pox is still making its rounds.  Most recently, a charming little stomach virus has started blossoming in the pits of unfortunate stomachs. 

I fell victim to the stomach bug Tuesday evening.  Never before have I experienced an illness quite like it, so I naturally held the vomit back long enough to Google my symptoms.  About ten minutes before the diarrhea or vomit, my stomach would boil with a tangible heat.  It felt like a flesh eating slug was trolling the inside of my stomach.  Only when the heat became unbearable, my stomach would unleash a watery Armageddon.  Google, of course, told me that my stomach lining was being destroyed and, in any case, I was experiencing a severe allergic reaction.  Truth be told, unless I'm allergic to Filipino potatoes, it really was just a bug and I was fine by Wednesday night.

Whether it is due to sickness or prepubescent mood swings, S seems to love me one moment and hate me the next.  She has adopted a charming mute condition whenever I ask her questions about what she is working on.  Fortunately, she miraculously regains her power of speech whenever throwing her pencil does not properly communicate her frustration.  Of course, there are just as many moments when she is practically an angel.  Go figure.

J has a thousand questions lately.  Most recently, there have been lots of questions about "the good H" and "the bad H."  She also wants to know "Why do we call it saved?"  It has been an honor to be able to experience this part of her growth.  Her head cold has also made her slightly more emotional.  When she discovered that the multiple illnesses would prevent a "real party" for B's birthday, she burst into tears because "it isn't a real birthday without a party."

Which brings us to B turning four.  It seems like she has transformed over night.  Now all she wants to say is, "I CAN DO IT MYSELF!"

In the village, it is almost time to harvest corn again.  This is causes mild concern because the constant rain has prevented the previous harvest from being sold as of yet, so the price for that corn is dropping tremendously.  Prayer that both harvests will make it to town and be sold would be greatly appreciated! 

TTFN (Ta-ta for now!)

Teaching Pop Art

Just a quick photo update with a little blurb because I have some time AND internet this morning.

In honor of Valentine's Day, I taught a lesson on Jim Dine's heart art.  The girls got to experiment with pop art and repeating patterns.  We liked the results so much that we decided they needed to be shared!

 

(J's masterpiece and the artist at work) 

 

 

(S and her finished product)

 

(My example piece)