December Newspaper Article

This was published today in The Republic under the headline "Push Pause on Video Game Obsession":

The young man sat at a desk in my classroom with his head lowered, avoiding the eyes of five teachers and his own mother.  As his English teacher, I was a part of this intervention-style parent/teacher conference in an attempt to halt the downward trend of his GPA.  Mom already knew what the problem was: his homework was not being turned in because he was obsessed with playing video games after school.  “And there’s nothing I can say,” she explained, “because he bought the game console with his own money.”  (Several teachers quickly pointed out that he owned the game, yes, but she owned the TV and the electricity.)

I understand there are numerous arguments in favor of video games: the development of hand-eye coordination and problem solving skills, for instance, and the premise that kids in front of an Xbox are at least “staying out of trouble”.  And advances in motion sensing technology mean kids can even now claim games like “Let’s Dance” as legitimate forms of exercise.

Still, I am not a fan of video games.  And it really has nothing to do with the most common objection: the violent, gory and raunchy content of so many of the games which are rated (ironically) as “mature”.  I do find those games reprehensible, but my concern isn’t so much over what the games put into young people’s minds, it is what the games steal from young people’s lives.  The Lego Harry Potter my own kids got for Christmas doesn’t contain any foul language and the “violence” is strictly cartoonish, but even relatively small doses of the game can be insidious, stealing away my kids’ interest in school work, their creativity, and opportunities for meaningful social interaction.

It’s a growing problem nationwide; the popularity and proliferation of gaming shows no signs of stopping.  Video game sales are one of the few bright spots in the largely gloomy U.S. economy.  According to the Entertainment Software Association, 257.2 million games were sold in 2010.  (That means they flew off the shelf at the rate of 8 per second.)  That’s a three and a half fold increase since the 1996 total of 74.1 million.  And the industry is predicting annual sales growth rates of at least 5% into the foreseeable future.

Those numbers might make investors and retailers happy, but what does it say about this generation’s growing appetite for escapist entertainment?  I wonder if anyone has attempted to calculate the number of man hours American teens and tweens spend waving a game controller at TVs each year.  I’m sure the number would be staggering. 

An experience this past summer really drove home the point to me.  I hadn’t truly noted video games’ subtle drain on our family life until my wife and I removed them from our children’s lives for two weeks.  Two blessed weeks.

That is how long we were in Haiti.  For the sake of our four kids, the trip was intended as a preview of the fulltime missionary service we hope to begin there as a family in August of 2012.  Our three oldest children (ages 10, 9 and 7) were allowed to bring their hand held Nintendos for the van ride to Miami, but the games were all left behind when we boarded the airplane. 

The results were nearly miraculous.  The kids spent hours upon hours outdoors, even as mosquitoes swarmed and temps hit the 90s.  They joined neighborhood kids in soccer games, although it meant struggling with the language barrier.  They discovered board games and an enjoyment of each other’s company.  They kept journals and actually protested if my wife and I did not budget enough minutes for writing before bedtime.  Furthermore, arguments and whining were noticeably reduced. 

One afternoon I stumbled upon a friendly sibling chat session to find my 10 year old son affectionately rubbing the back of his 9 year old sister as they talked.  He was not punching her in the back – he was rubbing it.  I thought I was in an alternate universe. 

I know our circumstances were unusual and certainly other factors were at play, beyond the lack of video games, but there is no doubt in my mind that my kids’ experiences those two weeks would have been greatly impoverished if the easy Nintendo escapism had been available to them.

And I can’t help but wonder how much life they have missed since we returned to “normal”.

If It's Not a Miracle, It's Awfully Close...

When we started in earnest on this journey towards full time missionary service in Haiti, it was November of 2010.  I "knew" what the basic steps would be:  apply to a mission organization, downsize, put the house up for sale, take the kids to Haiti for a preview, and start fundraising.  It was that last step that held the most anxiety for me.  I am basically a quiet, keep-to-myself kind of guy.  I don't like putting people on the spot.  I don't like asking others for help.  I would rather be on the fringe of most conversations, rather than at the center.

After being accepted as missionaries by One Mission Society at the end of summer, we went through orientation and then funding training.  I was secretly relieved when our trainers kept telling us that we should wait until training was complete before we actually started in earnest to solicit financial support.  NO PROBLEM!!  I was more than willing to wait as long as I could. 

As part of the training, OMS gave us a book to read. On page 22, the author presented a "Fundraising Acceptance Barometer" and challenged me to find position on the spectrum:

Resist <------------------------------------------------------> Accept

The four categories went like this (from left to right):

"Try to get out of it."
"Resignation, sense of duty."
"Embrace it reluctantly."
"Embrace it joyfully."

I knew I couldn't ever "get out of it" if we were to fulfill our call to Haiti, so I figured the best I would ever manage was "resignation".  (I must confess, though, that I answered a Publisher's Clearing House email in a blatant attempt to "get out of it", but God did not answer that prayer.  Nobody ever showed up at our door with an oversized check for 10 million dollars. All I got was a whole lot of extra spam in my email.)

Well, after the last two weeks, I have moved across the barometer.  And not just to "resignation" or even "embrace reluctantly" but to full on "embrace joyfully"!  Praise God!  Honestly, I am enjoying the process:  We are meeting up with some of the most fantastic people around and having serious, deep conversations about things that truly matter.  Melissa and I have already been blessed so much in these meetings and we are just getting started.

In the last two weeks or so, we have met with folks we know through:  a shared mission trip, Melissa's work, small group and my high school days!  I also met briefly with our pastor and he said the church would offer substantial support which will start in June. 

Yesterday we went to worship and then headed to Shelbyville to see my brother and his kids in a community theater production of "The Best Christmas Pageant Ever".  (Not having seen every Christmas pageant, I can't vouch for the "best ever" part, but they did a great job.)  Then we headed over to the home of my old high school friend, Scott, and his wife and kids.  Great family.  We caught up, talked Haiti, and then they treated our whole family to dinner at Cracker Barrel.  A truly great day.

Today (Monday, December 12) we met with the mission board of a church in Seymour, just down the road.  Last week an electrician had been working in Melissa's classroom and they got to talking about Haiti.  He's going there in January to work on wiring a hospital.  He told Melissa that he was on his church's mission board and she should make a presentation some time.  A couple of phone calls later and we were on the schedule for today at 4:30!  What an impressive church it was, too.  The board was so gracious and accommodating and they ultimately gave us an hour of their time.  In the end, they all gathered around Melissa and me and prayed for us and for our kids, thanking God for His call on our lives and asking for protection and perseverance.  As we left their parking lot a few minutes later, I noticed their exit sign, which reads, "You are now entering the mission field". 

This coming Sunday we will have a chance to speak briefly at our former church in Indy and I'm already on the schedule to preach there on January 22!  The funding process is turning out to be a great excuse to catch up with old friends and get to know their hearts in a deeper way.  Plus, we're meeting with some folks that I don't know too well yet, but I'm looking forward to getting more acquainted as they possibly partner with us over the next few years. 

At one time I was dreading the next few months because of the fundraising.  Now I am looking forward to them.  It's going to be a blast.  God is so good!

Black Friday

A week ago I found myself at the local Walmart.  It was Thanksgiving night - almost 10:00 PM when I drove into the parking lot to find that every single spot was filled.  The Menards lot next door was rapidly filling as well.  I parked in the lot of a distant restaurant and walked.  I had a few things on my list - a present for Dats that was going on sale at ten and a GPS for the car, a new printer, and a digital camera. 

My list was rather practical.  I wasn't after the season's hottest toy or some fancy electronic gizmo.  Even Dats' present is an "educational" one which requires no electricity.  Nobody fought me for Dats' item.

The printer was going for $69 and usually retails for $200.  Not only that, but it is a Kodak printer and Kodak produces the cheapest ink cartridges.  Plus, it scans and copies and faxes - all functions which might come in handy in Haiti. Surprisingly, nobody fought me for this item either.

The GPS was a Magellan, selling also for $69. ($110 on Amazon.)  We figured this thing would be helpful over the next few months as we make home and church visits to share about Haiti.  Nobody fought for this thing at all - in fact, there were still quite a few on the shelf the next day. 

The Kodak Easyshare camera was where the line formed.  For those of you too smart to ever go to Walmart at 10 PM on a Thanksgiving night, let me describe the scene for you.  In the center aisles are boxed displays of all sorts of cheap "treasures".  Black cellophane plastic is wrapped tightly around each display - and is not to be tampered with until midnight.  Any movement in the crowd of shoppers is slow and shoulder to shoulder.  Some of the big ticket items form actual lines that wind up and down particular aisles - further restricting the movement of crowds within the store.  Other items, like the Kodak camera, draw people who stand close by the display for two hours in order to get first grab. 

I was one of those idiots standing beside the camera display for nearly two hours.  I was idiot #5 and was joined ultimately by about 35 other idiots.  We passed the time mainly by avoiding looking into each other's eyes.  When patience began to run out (around 11:30 PM), some of the idiots started picking holes in the plastic and formulating guesses as to how many cameras the display box actually held.  Eventually, idiots #1, #2 and #3 started sneaking cameras into their shopping carts even though we were still 20 minutes from the official  unwrapping. 

In the final 15 minutes, standing with Dats' gift on the floor between my feet, my legs went numb because people were pushing in so tight against me, I couldn't even shift my weight from side to side.  When the signal came to unwrap, I was crushed up against the display box by the dozen people behind me, their arms reaching over and around me on all sides.  It was a frenzy that strangely reminded me of starving people in some drought-stricken village swamping aid workers who are distributing bags of rice. 

Honestly, it was a bit scary and a whole lot depressing.  As I was getting pushed and elbowed, I started yelling, "IT'S JUST A CAMERA, PEOPLE!"  I felt embarrassed and silly to be a part of it, and I fought my way out of the crowd as quickly as I could.  (Oh, I grabbed my camera first ... I wasn't about to go home without a camera after wasting two hours of my life for it.)

I was in a shop today (a much quieter and calmer shopping experience) and overheard two women having this conversation:

Woman #1:  Are you going to get anything?
Woman #2:  I don't know.  Probably not.
#1: Really?  It's all 50% off.
#2:  Well, I've hit the point where there's not anything that I really need. In fact, I've even hit the point where there's not anything I even WANT any more.

This is our reality and yet across this planet, 26,000 children under the age of 5 died today from malnutrition and preventable disease.  Tomorrow, another 26,000 will die.  So between now and Christmas morning, another 572,000 children under 5 will die tragic, preventable deaths. 

Melissa gets on me about being a bit of a party pooper this time of year, and I try not to be.  (Sometimes I try harder than others.)  I do love seeing the kids get excited about presents under the tree and their reactions when they unwrap toys on Christmas morning are priceless.  Still, I can't shake contrasting (in the back of my mind) the joy I feel in those moments with the absolute despair those 26,000 fathers must feel in watching their precious little ones suffer and die.

 Jesus said, "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."

From Isaiah 58:
 ⁶ “Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
   and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
   and break every yoke?
⁷ Is it not to share your food with the hungry
   and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
   and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
⁸ Then your light will break forth like the dawn,
   and your healing will quickly appear;
then your righteousness will go before you,
   and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard.
⁹ Then you will call, and the LORD will answer;
   you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.


P.S.  All of us idiots stood around for two hours for a $50 digital camera which we assumed was a great bargain, but not one of us researched the model on line to see if it really was a good deal.   If we had, we would have discovered (as I did just tonight) that it was impossible to compare sale price to regular retail price since this model has not been sold previously in the U.S.  You can't even find it on the Kodak website.  You can, however, find it available in the Czech Republic!  Apparently, it retails there for 1,438.50 Celkems ... sooooo, still not sure if I got a good deal or not.  Definitely not worth beating each other up over.

November Newspaper Article - On Directing the School Play Recently

I am not even sure what headline the editor at "The Republic" ended up giving this article because I haven't seen the paper yet today, but here is the article itself:

Last weekend I concluded two months of directing our school’s fall play, a Woody Allen comedy called "Don't Drink the Water".  It's about an American family on vacation behind the Iron Curtain (it was written in 1967) which, being falsely accused of spying, ends up seeking asylum in an American embassy.  We had only two performances but I still haven’t caught up on my sleep.

This marks my third production as a director and I learn more (about teenagers) with each passing year.  Here is what I learned, or relearned, this year:

Lesson One.  There seems to be no way to convince a teenager that lines should be memorized long before the final week.  I set deadlines.  I shame them when they use scripts in the latter practices.  I threaten bodily harm.  But the problem is that I have absolutely no leverage.  What can I do:  kick them off the cast two weeks before show time?  When a live audience is just a week away and an actor is still saying to me, “Don’t worry, I’ll have my lines down by dress rehearsal”, it produces heart palpitations.

Lesson Two.  My threats don’t work anyway; no teenager takes me seriously when I yell.  Last year it was the cell phone use during rehearsals that put me over the edge.  Time and again an actor would miss his or her cue while absorbed in texting a friend. This year it was absenteeism during practice.  We had a large cast - about 15 students - and I didn't realistically expect everyone to be there for every practice, but the final week's practice times were on the calendar two months in advance. 

That is why I blew up one evening with less than a week to go when one of my key actresses sent word she would be late.  I pounded on a table.  I started throwing costumes back into the storage box.  And I threatened to call the newspaper to run an announcement about how the play was being canceled due to lack of commitment. 

Within a few minutes practice started, my face returned to a normal color, my missing actress showed up just before her first cue, and the show went on.  By the end of that evening, the students were mocking my temper tantrum, taking turns doing their best impressions of Angry Mr. Gross.

Lesson Three.  Dress rehearsal always leaves me depressed and anxious.  This year the cast started out strong but crashed and burned by the end of dress rehearsal.  I believe the final scene’s dialogue was only 10% Woody Allen.  One of our actresses ended a scene by yelling at the tech crew, "Black out, people, black out!”  I lost count of how many times the actors froze and stared at each other, waiting for someone to dig the next line out of his or her memory.  And nobody seemed to enter the stage on cue.

Lesson Four.  Having an audience makes all the difference in the world.  Only five people showed up as our dress rehearsal audience.  They laughed out loud at maybe three or four lines in the play.  Other than that, they smiled a lot.  But the actors couldn't hear the smiling.  So when the curtains parted opening night and the audience was laughing loudly and wholeheartedly within the first two minutes, some of the teens looked at me with wide eyes as we stood back stage and they said, "They are actually laughing!"  And those teens nailed that performance like I had not seen in eight weeks.

Lesson Five. Organizing an extracurricular activity like a student play is worth the time and effort.  It’s good for me as a teacher to spend time with students outside of the classroom.  I need to be reminded that there is more to life than literary analysis and sentence structure.  The final bow and drawing of the curtain leaves me conflicted and exhausted.  On the up side, I will get to see my wife and kids more often now.  On the down side, a unique group of incredible teens – a group which has grown close through laughs and stress for two months - is disbanded, never again to be reconstituted in quite the same way.

I am glad I didn’t miss it.

****************
Maybe next month I can find a way to work in some information about us going to Haiti.  My contact at "The Republic" said I could write about it, but I haven't found my entry point yet.  The timing just hasn't been right.

Opening Night

I hope you don't expect to read anything too coherent here at the moment.  As I write this, it is just after midnight and I am still wound up from a successful opening night for the school play which I had the privilege of directing.

I am trying to kill three birds with one stone in writing here tonight:
1)  I don't think I could fall asleep yet, so maybe this writing will wind me down.
2)  I haven't written anything here for a couple of weeks and I need to get back in the habit, now that my schedule will be getting a bit normalized.
3)  I have a newspaper article due by Tuesday and I need to get some ideas written down ASAP, so that it doesn't become a last minute task a few days from now.

After going round and round in my mind about topics for the next article, I decided tonight as I drove home from school that I can't pass up the opportunity to write about the experience of directing a school play.  So what I am about to write will be pre-writing for that article.  (You should feel honored - I don't usually let people read my pre-writing ... just ask my wife.)

Random Thoughts on Directing a Play:

- Out of respect for their privacy, I won't use any names.

-First, I should explain that we are doing a Woody Allen comedy called "Don't Drink the Water".  It's about an American family on vacation behind the Iron Curtain (it was written in 1967) who end up seeking asylum in an American embassy because they are falsely accused of being spies.  Our first performance was tonight (Saturday, Nov 19) and we have one more tomorrow at 2:00 in the afternoon.  And I should be sleeping right now.

My invaluable right hand man.  The Radar OReilly to my Colonel Henry Blake.

- Time Consumption.  Especially now that we are living with my Mother-in-Law and I have to commute a good 30 minutes to school, this play has made my schedule crazy.  We've had two or three 2-hour practices each week for 7 or 8 weeks now and most of those were in the evenings, not right after school.  I would drive the kids home, have a quick dinner and head back to school.  On those days I spent two hours (of the 24 given to me) in the van.  This week was especially brutal - with dress rehearsal and some extra last minute practice this morning.

Our leading couple:  my niece "Susan" and a fine young man, "Axel Magee".

- Dress Rehearsal.  Holy cow.  This is my third play and dress rehearsal always leaves me depressed and anxious.  This cast started out strong but crashed and burned by the end of the play Thursday night.  I believe the final scene was only 10% Woody Allen.  One of our actresses ended a scene by yelling at the tech crew, "Black out, people, black out!)  Our lead actor called another actor by his first name, rather than his character's name. I lost count of how many times the actors froze and stared at each other, waiting for someone to dig the next line out of his memory.  And nobody seemed to enter the stage at the right time.

- Blowing Up.  I didn't have to yell at this cast like I did at last year's cast - but I did a bit of yelling still.  If you know me, you can imagine that I'm not very comfortable yelling at a group of teenagers, but sometimes it seems like the only way to get their attention.  Last year it was the cell phone use during rehearsals that put me over the edge.  Time and again an actor would miss his or her cue while absorbed in texting a friend. This year it was missing practice.  We had a large cast - about 15 students - and I didn't realistically expect everyone to be there for every practice, but the final week's practice times were on the calendar for two months.  So I blew up this past Monday when a key actress was missing due to cheerleading (my niece of all people!) and THEN another actress started explaining how the next evening a basketball game was going to take out 4 or 5 actors.  I pounded on the table.  I started throwing costumes back into the storage box.  And I threatened to call the newspaper to run an announcement about how the play was being canceled due to lack of commitment.  Within a few minutes we started practice, my face returned to a normal color, my niece showed up just before her first cue, and the show went on.  By the end of the evening, the students were mocking my temper tantrum, taking turns doing their best impressions of Angry Mr. Gross.

"Chef" reviewing his lines back stage tonight.

-Having an Audience.  Only five people showed up as our dress rehearsal audience.  They laughed out loud at maybe three or four lines in the play.  Other than that, they smiled a lot.  But the actors couldn't hear the smiling.  So tonight when the curtains opened and the audience was laughing within the first two minutes, some of the teens looked at me with wide eyes as we stood back stage and they said, "They are actually laughing!"  When you go over lines day after day and you're focused on getting them out of your mouth and getting them right, you tend to forget they are quite funny.

The view from back stage as "Ms. Burns" carries a cot off.

-Bitter.  Ending a play is always bitter-sweet.  The bitter part will be that I won't get to spend time with these guys outside of normal school hours anymore.  That's sad.  You get close during two months of play practice.  Even though I was the one tasked with keeping things on track and cracking the whip, I got a lot of laughs out of these past few weeks.  I wish I had video of "Father Drobney" when he forgot that the coffee table was rigged to break and he leaned on it.  He crushed the table and fell flat on his face.  Or the night when "The Sultan's Wife" - who had a non-speaking role in the play - stood in for an actress who was absent.  She butchered a number of lines:  instead of yelling "Tunisia!", she exclaimed "Tsunami!" and instead of "We dress up like peasants ..." we got "We dress up like peanuts..."  Or our actress from Belgium who delivered her lines sweetly but largely unintelligibly to an American audience.  (We love you, "Ms. Burns"!)  Anyway, this cast was a group of top-notch individuals and it was a pleasure to work with them.  Great actors, too.  So it's sad to see it end.

After the audience cleared out tonight, our sound guys cranked up the music and busted some moves. 

-Sweet.  I get to spend time with my wife and children again.  And just in time for the holidays.  Also, Melissa and I just ended our funding training a couple of weeks ago, but we haven't really been able to get going in earnest on raising our financial support to get our family to Haiti because of the time commitment to this play on my part.  I left Melissa home too many evenings to deal with dinners and showers and homework by herself.  We are planning on sending out a letter with our prayer cards to family and friends who are too far away for us to visit.  The letter is written, we just need to figure out exactly who to send it to.  Those who are closer, we hope to visit in person to invite them to financially partner with us in this endeavor.  We've had ONE appointment so far, so our feet are wet, but there are (hopefully) many more to come.  The play was fun - especially tonight, when all the actors' hard work came together and they earned a lot of sincere praise from the audience.  And I felt good each time someone suggested tonight that I needed to direct another play in the spring.  But it's not going to happen.  We've got serious business to attend to.  Melissa and I are more and more deeply convinced that our future lies in Haiti - that there are "good works that God has prepared in advance for us" there (Ephesians 2:10).  We need to get moving forward.

A Year of Blogging

Today, November 6, 2011, concludes my first year of blogging. 

My daily reality has changed radically over the last 365 days as we work towards moving our family to Haiti: (In no particular order.)

Then, I could see Target from my back yard.  Now, I can see a cornfield.
Then, I slept in a king size bed.  Now, a full size.  (I don't mean to sound whiny, but this has been one of the biggest adjustments.  I have to remind myself how many Haitians sleep on concrete or dirt.)
Then, we lived in our house.  Now, we rent it out.
Then, we were on our own.  Now, we live with my mother-in-law.
Then, we had two bathrooms.  Now, we have one. (Second biggest adjustment!)
Then, the kids slept in three bedrooms.  Now, they all sleep in one.  (Third!)
Then, Melissa and the kids could turn on their own showers.  Now, my mother-in-law and I are the only ones strong enough to turn a stubborn handle.
Then, we hadn't yet applied to One Mission Society.  Now, we are official OMS missionaries.
Then, we had "stuff" everywhere.  Now, much of it (but not all!) is gone.
Then, we were managing our debts.  Now, we are actively paying them off.
Then, we weren't sure how the kids would feel about moving to Haiti.  Now, they have seen Haiti firsthand and they loved it.
Then, God was reminding me about the centrality of the Great Commission.  Now, I'm ready to go "all in".

I started blogging on November 7th right after we got back from a missions conference at the OMS headquarters.  Originally, I was blogging almost daily and I was keeping track of belongings which I was seeking to give away, throw away or sell.  Now I'm documenting our progress towards moving the family to Haiti.  We still hope to be there August of 2012.  We are currently in the fundraising stage - and there's a lot to learn and do over the next few months. 

But the blogging itself has been a good exercise for me.  I don't want these weeks and months to pass in a blur - and without reflection, that's just what will happen.  And I'm much more motivated to journal about life experiences, when I know there's a real, live audience - even if it was just my wife.

But it's not ... here are some weird stats for my first year at this:

I have written 231 posts.
There have been 6,711 page views. (So, the good news is you're not the only one who reads this!)
Blogspot keeps track of where the page views originate.  Here are some of the countries represented:  Canada, Germany, United Kingdom, Iran, Australia, Spain, Denmark, Singapore, Russia, Belgim, Lithuania, Switzerland, France, Brazil and Haiti.  Weird, huh?

I look forward to the day when this blog's primary purpose will be to keep friends and family informed of our day to day life on the mission field and the ways we see God at work there - firsthand!

Late October Updates

A few quick updates.  Some with pictures!  Sorry this post is so long, but I'm trying to make up for lost time.

* We could use some prayers for health if you're so inclined!  The Princess has been battling a barking cough which may be turning into an ear infection.  Melissa's taking tomorrow off from school to take her to the doctor.  Melissa and I are both dealing with head colds, too.

*  Melissa turned 40 about a week ago.  I feel guilty that I didn't have the time or funds to make her day more special.  She planned a big surprise party when I turned 40 a few years ago - and actually surprised me.  I am promising to take her to Indy soon for a getaway, though.

*  At school, I am directing the fall play - a Woody Allen comedy called "Don't Drink the Water".  It's been a fun cast to work with, but we are in the final three weeks before production, so things are bound to get more stressful from here on out.  Come and see the performance if you get the chance - November 19 and 20.

*  Finished our funding training with OMS yesterday, so we are now ready to officially begin sharing our call to ministry in Haiti with folks and inviting them to partner with us both financially and in prayer.  We are still hoping to get our family to Haiti in August of next year.  We're also looking for some dedicated pray-ers who will commit to lift us up in prayer on a regular basis.  If that is something you would be interested in, please email me at steve_gross@juno.com!

* Speaking of prayer, over Fall Break, we slipped up to Greenwood to get our pictures taken for our prayer card.  The ladies in the communication department at OMS were super helpful and patient and went out of their way to help us get our picture and information formatted in time for a deadline  - even though we were still in the office after 5:00 on a Friday afternoon!

*  Afterwards, we stopped by the portrait place in the Greenwood Mall since we were all dressed up to see if we could get a good family shot and some individuals of the kids.  Melissa was excited because we left with 100 Christmas cards all ready to go.  Now I'll really be in trouble this year if I'm late in writing our Christmas letter.

Here are a couple of the shots:

*  Yesterday evening our small group hosted a fall carnival at the church for the bus ministry kids.  These are kids who ride the bus to church every Sunday - mostly without their parents.  They had a great time and it was more fun than I anticipated.  My brother donated the use of his jump castle, so I spent part of the evening supervising the kids inside it - until I was about deaf.  At one point, one little guy - about 7 years old - poked his head out of the castle and yelled, "This is the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!"  They all went home with tummy aches and little plastic toys...

Some pics:



Getting some hotdogs ready.




The kids line up to eat.




Melissa manned the cotton candy machine.




Grandma Trudy even came along to help out.




The jump castle was busy the entire time.

*  Earlier that afternoon, the kids helped with raking Grandma Trudy's leaves...

Dats used the leafblower for the first time.

Grandma buried Ida.

The Princess buried herself.

And, of course, a leaf fight eventually broke out.  Miraculously, nobody ended up crying!

* This evening, a nearby church was hosting a "Trunk or Treat" event and so we took our kids over for an hour.  That way we get a little more use out of the costumes.  This year we have a Princess (of course) and 3 Star Wars characters:  Obi Wan, General Grievous, and Padme Amidala.  And so begins the candy season, which lasts until early summer:  first the Halloween candy which stretches until Christmas, then the Christmas candy that stretches to Easter, then Easter carries us until early summer when any leftovers get tossed out of disgust.

The Princess

The whole gang.

Trunk or Treat

Carving the pumpkins.  Since Dats is now 10 years old, I am trying to allow him to do more on his own.  So I stood back and let him carve his own pumpkin while I prayed that we would not be making a trip to the emergency room tonight.

The most disturbing Halloween costume I've seen in a long while.

Newspaper Articles

This is the longest I've gone without writing since I started here about a year ago.  Life is hectic and I am tired... blah, blah, blah.

Anyway, I don't think I've mentioned this here yet, but the local newspaper is actually paying me to write a monthly article for the "Classrooms" page.  I have a spot the 4th Monday of each month.  They are paying me all of $40 per article.  That's cool, but when I do the math, figuring in the number of hours per article, it's probably around minimum wage.

I would appreciate your prayers for wisdom, though, because the coolest thing about it is the fact that my editor at the newspaper said I could write some about our transition to Haiti.  I haven't done that yet ... still trying to figure out how to make that move.  For now, my articles (this is my third) have been observations on matters relating to education. 

This month's was about grading student papers and I reprint it here to help fill the gap left by my recent busy-ness:

STUDENT WRITING NEVER CEASES TO ENTERTAIN, OR AMAZE

For this English teacher, the job’s greatest joy and its greatest frustration are one in the same: grading student writing.  This paradox resolves itself this way:  Grading student writing is frustrating because it takes so much time, but the main reason it takes so much time is because I find it utterly fascinating. 

I seem to be incapable of skimming writing assignments.  At times I will tell myself, “Let’s save a few minutes by glancing over these paragraphs and giving only a completion grade,” and within sixty seconds I will be deeply engrossed in some student’s description of how spoiled little sisters are or how frustrating math class can be.

I’m sure some readers will doubt me when I say student writing is fascinating.  Maybe you recall your own school day compositions, and you know they were mostly a series of mind-numbing generalities strung together to fulfill an assignment with as little effort as possible.  Some of that writing crosses my desk too.  I didn’t say student writing was 100% fascinating, just that it is interesting to me as a whole. 

Sometimes student writing makes me laugh until I have tears streaming down my face.  And the unintentional humor is almost always the best kind.

Like the 7^th grader who I asked to write a description of the launch of a rocket heading to the moon.  The objective was to employ plenty of relevant detail.  This young lady wrote of being strapped into the chair and wearing her space helmet and how, as the rocket gained altitude, “my ears popped inside my helmet.”  A great detail to include, but her intent was derailed by an egregious spelling error:  instead of doubling the P in “popped”, she had doubled the O.  I had trouble breathing.

And then there was the 10^th grader who wrote a short story entitled “Day with Mom and Grandma!”

“I woke up to the alarm going off, telling me to get up and get ready for my day.  It was a Friday morning and I was oh so warm in my bed.  Nevertheless, I got up and went downstairs for breakfast. “

She was off to a fairly dull and unoriginal start.  But the next sentence grabbed my attention and had me anticipating a rather macabre turn to her tale:  “There, cooking over a hot stove, was grandma.”  

Unfortunately, it turned out to be nothing more than a preposition problem. 

(Even the mistakes students make while writing leave me intrigued by language and communication.  Isn’t it curious that in this sentence structure, either “cooking at” or “leaning over” will work just fine, but “cooking over” conjures up a fundamentally different image?)

The other fascinating aspect of student writing, which stretches out grading time, is that it is a window into the student’s mind.  This, more than anything else, keeps me engrossed in student writing.  It doesn’t take more than a twenty minute journaling exercise to reveal waves of teenage angst, family dysfunction, hopes, future plans, sports, questions about God, and tales of dust-ups with the local police.  The act of grading these papers can drag me from heartache to great joy and then back again.

Of course the absolute best part of grading student writing, the aspect that truly rewards the time and effort spent in reading, is the discovery of a diamond in the rough.  These are bits of writing so good they beg for a much wider audience.

During a recent journaling exercise, where the topic was open to the students, a handful of my eighth graders spent twenty minutes writing variations of “This assignment is stupid” over and over.   Meanwhile, one young man poured out a couple of poems.  I only have space here for one and I reprint it with his permission:

“Grassy Plains” by Logan B.

Hindering winds echo

Upon the grassy plain,

No caverns in sight

But hither,

As it wails into your ear.

What it has sought long since faded,

Only a memory is it now.

Anger arises, in the plain,

The wind

Now it bares fangs,

Having lost all hope

As to what it wished to gain.

Tread lightly upon

That desolate grassy plain.

To my way of thinking, reading through stacks of paper is worth it to find a single heartfelt poem written by an 8^th grader in under twenty minutes.

Missionaries-in-Waiting

My primary objective in writing on this blog is to sort through my own thoughts - especially relating to the experience of being a missionary-in-waiting, which is what Melissa and I have been, to one degree or another, for almost an entire year now.  What I am finding lately is, that at this point in the process, EVERYTHING in my life seems to be related to that experience. 

In other words, the reality of being a missionary-in-waiting is the backdrop for nearly all else in my life:  the joys and the stresses, how I spend my time and money, and definitely my prayers and devotional life. 

The Princess (age 4) has taken up a new habit in the last two months or so:  when she sees a commercial on TV for the latest plastic toy from China, she blurts out, "I WANT that!"  Each time I hear it, I think A) She sure says that in the cutest way and B)  I personally DON'T want that ... because we don't have the money or space for it ... because we're trying to get the family to Haiti. 

Even our morning schedule is a reminder that I am an M-in-W, since the whole point of us moving in with my mother-in-law is to pay off debt before entering the mission field fulltime, and this move, in turn, has had very prominent repercussions on our daily schedule.  I've been thinking of capturing the routine in photos to post here, because I know "this too shall pass", and someday it will be just a vague memory unless I've written it down.

The simple act of checking email also reminds me of where we're going.  I get regular emails from folks at OMS now, especially as we anticipate a web-based training on fundraising that starts this Saturday morning and runs for three weeks.  There's homework for this class.  I actually have it done early for this first session because I know how a week can get away from you.

Morning devotions are also performed with our mission in the back of my mind.  I am currently reading through II Corinthians.  And when I came across 1:16 yesterday, Paul's appeal for financial help (which I wouldn't have even noticed a year ago) now jumped out at me:  Paul writes that he hopes to come to Corinth from Macedonia in order to "come to you, and by you to be helped on my journey to Judea."  So I make a mental note that Paul did not hesitate to give advanced notice to some brothers and sisters in Christ that he was needing financial support to continue the plans God had called him to. 

Another reminder of our plans to move to Haiti:  watching our kids.  They continue to amaze me and make me proud when I observe how flexible they are.  The four of them - ranging in age from 4 to 10 - are sleeping in two bunk beds in a tiny bedroom, but I haven't heard any complaints from them. (Arguments?  yes... a few.  But no general complaints.) 

Even their willingness to clean their plates or try new food reminds me that we are all missionaries-in-waiting.  They showed a real willingness to try novel foods while we were in Haiti in July - especially when it came to fruit.  The other night, after a cool autumn day, Melissa served a soup we hadn't had for some time:  Italian sausage with zucchini and yellow squash.  The Princess picked at some of the yellow squash and announced, "I don't want the LEMONS!" 

We laughed and Melissa replied, "Those aren't lemons." 

"Then what are they?"

"Squash."

"Squashed WHAT?"

So every day is filled from beginning to end with reminders that we are missionaries-in-waiting.  It's not a bad thing at all, but as Tom Petty once stated, "The waiting is the hardest part."

The Return from Miami - Final pics from our July Trip to Haiti

I must force myself to finish posting the remaining pictures of our Haiti Adventure.  It is tough to do because it provides a sense of closure to me that I'd rather not have!  But the record would not be complete without documenting our return to Indiana from Miami - mainly because our friends Twila and Gonzo provided such great hospitality. 

We stayed with them the night before we left for Haiti, early in July.  They found a safe place to park our van for the two weeks and then picked us up at the airport upon our return.  It was in the afternoon and I knew I wouldn't be in the mood to drive, so we were so glad that Twila and Gonzo were willing to put us up for the night in the condo where they live in downtown Miami.  The kids were excited to get their hands back on their video games and to spend some time in the condo's pool.  It was beautiful.

The condo had valet parking!

Gonzo.  He and Twila used to live in Indianapolis and Gonzo helped with the youth group quite a bit while I was youth pastor at the Free Methodist Church.  I was surprised to see all these years later that Gonzo still keeps a group picture on his night stand from our youth mission trip to Mexico.

The Drama Queen checks out the view of the pool from the condo balcony.  The pool was on the 12th floor.  Very cool.

Downtown Miami in the background.

The Princess plays with Gonzo's toy - "Sharkie".



Ida rubs his mom's shoulders after a day of travel.  Speaking of back rubs ... I have never seen our kids closer to each other than they were on this trip.  It was a beautiful thing.  Don't get me wrong; it's not like they are usually at each other's throats.  But I was shocked once to walk into one of the bedrooms in the Bundy house in Haiti to find Dats rubbing The Drama Queen's shoulders as they sat and talked!  Another time I walked in and found DQ rubbing Dats' shoulders.  It freaked me out a bit.



It's a rough life.

Twila came down to swim with us for a while.  She was an incredible hostess.  She had packed their fridge with about every type of snack food imaginable. 

There was just enough floor space for three queen-sized air matresses.

Ida bonded quickly with Gonzo and showed his affection as he always does ... by treating him like a jungle gym.

The kids survived for two full weeks without access to their DSs, but the addiction immediately returned.  Unfortunately.

We spent one night in a small town south of Atlanta and then continued home.  Oreo was mobbed once we got back to our house.

She was so excited.

And Amber, who house-sat for us, was there when we arrived.  We were so grateful to her for watching over the dog, the house and the pool while we were gone.

The Last Haiti Pics ... for Now.

OK... this is it.  The last pics from our family's trip to Haiti in July.  (Technically speaking, anyway.  Because I still have some pics from our return to Indiana via Miami that I want to post since our hosts there, Twila and Gonzo, were so awesome.)  (And I still have some videos I'd like to post... those aren't pics.)
These days, I sometimes feel optomistic that we'll be able to raise support and get ourselves to Haiti next August and sometimes it seems thoroughly impossible.  Now I know that, ultimately, the timing is in God's hands and He'll put us there when He desires it.  I really do KNOW that, so I don't stress too much.  I just wish He'd give me a short peek at the official calendar.

Encouragement comes out of the blue at various times ... often, "coincidentally", when I need it most.  I got onto Facebook this evening and saw a posting by a dear long-time friend (notice I didn't say "old friend"!) from my days in Iowa - Connie.  She was encouraging mutual friends from Lake Okoboji United Methodist Camp to check out this blog.  AND she told me to put her on my support list!  Don't worry, Connie... I will!  You won't have to tell me twice.



Although some of the food served at mealtimes was not to every kid's liking, they all were more than willing to try various types of fruit from various trees around the grounds.  Here, Ida gets ready to sample a starfruit.  If I get the time, I should post some video of Ida and Dats sampling a quite odd substance given to them by some local Haitian kids that I dubbed "snot-fruit".  Around the compound we found bananas, grapefruit, lemons, and plenty of mangoes.



Dats up a tree house in front of one of the mission houses.

For two weeks, the kids were desperate to get their hands on a coconut, but the trees are quite tall and only the yellow coconuts are rip enough to eat.  On our last day, Jane arranged for a local man to climb the tree in the center of this picture and throw down a few coconuts...

Here the man shows the traditional Haitian method for getting into a coconut:  nut in one hand, machete in the other, and cell phone between the teeth...

Jane passes around a coconut so the kids can sample the milk.

The verdict?

Not so great!  (It's better cold...)

Dats taking one last turn at the rope swing.

One last dose of anti-itch cream for The Drama Queen.



Maury and David, out to say goodbye to us on Saturday, July 16.  They aren't really soccer players ... we brought the two balls with us - along with various other items - and we had never gotten around to finding them a proper home, so David said he would get them into the hands of some local kids.



Bud and Jane ready to drive us to the airport in Cap Haitien.

The Princess wasn't just tired ... she was quite attached to Jane and not ready to say goodbye.

On the road.





Looking stylish in her pink sunglasses.

Looking not-so-stylish in the pink sunglasses.

When we arrived at the airport, check-in went smoothly, except that one of Melissa's soapstone dishes was broken during the ride.  We were all sad to say goodbye to Bud and Jane, but at least we had "home" to look forward to.  The Princess (age 4.5) hugged Jane several times, then sprawled out on the seats in the waiting area.  When I walked up to her a few minutes later, she whimpered a bit and said, "I just love Haiti."  At that point, I was pretty sure our trip had been a "success".

One last thing.  As we were waiting to leave the Cap Haitien airport, a family was just arriving - a family we were really hoping to meet.  Jane managed to make it happen, even though we had already passed through security before they unloaded.  Matt and Stacey Ayars work down the road from the main OMS compound at the Emmaus Biblical Seminary (also an OMS ministry).  Melissa had met them briefly on her trip in June of 2010 and it was at EBS that she had first discerned God calling our family to Haiti. 

I am hoping to be of use at EBS once God gets us to Haiti.  I'm not exactly sure in what capacity, but I am open.  I mention the Ayars because chatting with them for a few minutes was our last experience in Haiti before boarding the plane and it gives me an excuse to point out Stacey's blog which is so well-written and entertaining and devotional.  You never know what you'll find there ... today she told about reaching for what she thought was a hot pad on her kitchen counter only to discover it was a tarantula!