tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87047111767977802532024-03-12T17:51:18.242-07:00He Makes Beautiful Things He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in their hearts ,yet so that man will not find out the work which God has done from the beginning even to the end. Ecclesiastes 3:11
Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.comBlogger73125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-77100870317744006322020-08-20T09:12:00.001-07:002020-08-20T09:12:59.558-07:00How Can I Pray for Bolivia & COVID-19?<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Covid 19 has affected Bolivia in many ways, but these are
three main three areas that stand out, and ways we can pray . <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Mid-March, the Bolivian government took extreme
measure to slow the spread of the virus. Mandatory curfews and consequences
were put into place. Those measure have relaxed, but movement is still
extremely limited.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">Adults are allowed to leave their homes
between 6am-4pm two days a week. (depending on your ID #) Children and Elderly
have not been allowed to leave the house legally for almost 5 months. This has
affected many families that were already living in extreme poverty.<o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">The Lord has provided funds to provide
weekly bags of food for each of the families we work with most closely. This
also allows us to visit briefly with each family, pray with them, and discuss
the week{s bible study. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have been so
encouraged by the way these new believers have shared their food with neighbors
in the hopes of being a testimony to God{s love. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>Please
pray that the physical need & hunger of the people would open doors for
sharing the gospel and discipling new believers.<o:p></o:p></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Despite these preventative measure, hospitals
are overrun. Even for those who can afford to pay, access is limited. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">Franco’s father and grandfather passed away
last month due to COVID, and his mom was just released from the hospital after
almost 4 weeks. The hospitals are not able to provide even basic needs, such as
water and toilet paper. We are thankful the Lord has provided people that were
able to help meet these needs for his mom, as we were not able to travel to be
with her, but many people do not have the same resources. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>Please
pray for health and protection, especially for Franco as he delivers food and
meets with families. Pray that many would see an urgency of their need for
Jesus. Please pray for Franco’s family as they grieve- that they would be a
light to non-believing friends and family. <o:p></o:p></u></b></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><!--[endif]-->Education has also been affected. Due to the
extreme poverty in Bolivia, most families do not have internet in their homes.
The Bolivian school year runs from February- November, and most children have
not had any instruction since March. The government decided this week to end
the school year, and pass everyone on to the next grade level. This will cause
almost all students to fall behind academically. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">Because the children have not had classes,
we have been able to provide Bible study material for the parents to work
through<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>with their children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We praise the Lord for how He in working in
the homes of our neighbors. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u>Pray
for wisdom as we seek to serve the families we work with. Pray that the Lord
would use us to equip parents to help their children academically, but more
importantly, to train them up in the way of the Lord. <o:p></o:p></u></b></p>Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-23808588068477430372020-07-16T11:54:00.000-07:002020-07-16T12:49:28.730-07:00Resources for Grief<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Several days after Ezekiel was born, I found myself scrolling
through old Facebook posts in the middle of the night. I was searching for a
post from an acquaintance who had posted several articles about grief after
losing their baby boy the year before. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Lord in his mercy brought this couple and their posts to my
mind, and He used those posts and later, that friendship to comfort me in my
grief, and point me to Jesus, the anchor of my hope. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Today, on what would have been Ezekiel’s 3<sup>rd</sup> birthday,
I wanted to share some of the resources that were instrumental in pointing me
to the hope of the gospel in my grief.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Obviously, every person experiences grief differently. These
resources are not a checklist for “overcoming” grief, and they may or may not
be helpful for everyone. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are some
of the ones that were most helpful for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The Bible is clear that Christians are NOT immune to suffering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="background: white; color: black;">John 16:33 says, “I have said these
things to you, that </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">in me you may have peace. </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">In the world you will have </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">tribulation. But </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">take heart; </span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">I have overcome the
world.”</span><span style="mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">James 1:2-4 says “Count
it all joy, my brothers,</span></span><span class="text"><sup data-fn="#fen-ESV-30252a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-ESV-30252a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 7.5pt; line-height: 115%;"> </span></sup></span><span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">when you meet trials of various kinds,</span></span></i><span style="background: white; color: black;"><i><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span><span class="text"><b><sup style="font-size: 1.2rem;"><span id="en-ESV-30253" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></sup></b>for
you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.</span>”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">We should expect
to suffer. The Lord allows suffering for those He loves, and He doesn’t waste
anything. Everything He allows is for our eternal good and His glory. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">In Matthew 7,
Jesus tells the story of the wise man who built his house upon the rock. Even
if you are not suffering now, I can’t encourage you enough to look through
these resources. Build your life on the firm foundation of Jesus now.
Understanding suffering in light of the gospel is so important. Not only will
it be helpful for you when the storm does come, it will allow you to love and
support others in their suffering.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">I pray that you
don’t find yourself searching for this post in the middle of grief. But if you
do, I pray that the Lord uses it to comfort you and turn your eyes upon Him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">If you do find
yourself searching for hope in the midst of grief, I would love to talk with
you more. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="text"><span style="background: white; color: black;">With love, <br />
Danyelle</span></span></div>
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<b style="background-color: white; text-indent: -18pt;"><span style="color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 12.0pt;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;">Video: <i>"What
Grieving People Really Wish You Knew About What Helps (and What Really
Hurts)"</i> Nancy Guthrie</span></b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br />
<a href="https://vimeo.com/167483885" target="_blank"><span style="color: #1155cc;">https://vimeo.com/167483885</span></a><br />
This was one of the original posts that was helpful to me. SO often people want
to be helpful, and they just don’t know how. This short video is helpful for
those around you, but it was also helpful to me in remembering to have grace
for others when they don’t say the “right” thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 12.0pt;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nancy Guthrie Books: Hearing
Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow </span></b><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Hearing-Jesus-Speak-into-Sorrow/dp/1414325487/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1R6IWVKI9ENCX&dchild=1&keywords=hearing+jesus+speak+into+your+sorrow+nancy+guthrie&qid=1594921726&sprefix=hearing+Jesus+speak+nancy+guthrie%2Caps%2C509&sr=8-2" style="font-size: 12pt;">https://www.amazon.com/Hearing-Jesus-Speak-into-Sorrow/dp/1414325487/ref=sr_1_2?crid=1R6IWVKI9ENCX&dchild=1&keywords=hearing+jesus+speak+into+your+sorrow+nancy+guthrie&qid=1594921726&sprefix=hearing+Jesus+speak+nancy+guthrie%2Caps%2C509&sr=8-2</a><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;">If
you read nothing else – please read this. This book addresses the hard
questions we have about a good God in the midst of suffering.</span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;">Nancy Guthrie Books: Holding
Onto Hope </span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Holding-Hope-Pathway-through-Suffering/dp/1414312962/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=holding+onto+hope+nancy+guthrie&qid=1594921675&sr=8-2">https://www.amazon.com/Holding-Hope-Pathway-through-Suffering/dp/1414312962/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=holding+onto+hope+nancy+guthrie&qid=1594921675&sr=8-2</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Nancy
Guthrie lost two babies to a rare genetic disease. This book is part of her
story, and includes a bible study on the book of Job. (I think anything by Nancy Guthrie is great,
but I will limit my suggestions to these. </span><span style="font-family: "wingdings"; font-size: 12.0pt;">J</span><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Walking
with God through Pain and Suffering, by Timothy Keller<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/Walking-God-through-Pain-Suffering/dp/1594634408/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3CBJBKP96PFNV&dchild=1&keywords=walking+with+god+through+pain+and+suffering&qid=1594923372&sprefix=walking+with+%2Caps%2C380&sr=8-2">https://www.amazon.com/Walking-God-through-Pain-Suffering/dp/1594634408/ref=sr_1_2?crid=3CBJBKP96PFNV&dchild=1&keywords=walking+with+god+through+pain+and+suffering&qid=1594923372&sprefix=walking+with+%2Caps%2C380&sr=8-2</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This
book is great if you are looking for a biblical understanding of suffering. I’ll
be honest, I haven’t actually finished reading it- it’s a hard read. What I
have read has been great. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Sermon:
A Christian’s Happiness<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4r6ueJ7xVI">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t4r6ueJ7xVI</a><br />
This is a 20+ year old sermon that a friend sent me after Ezekiel was born. I
listened to it on repeat in the months after. Based on Romans 8, it talks about
what God has actually promised us, and where our happiness as Christians comes
from. <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;">Songs: Though You Slay
Me – Shane & Shane<br />
</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyUPz6_TciY">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyUPz6_TciY</a><br />
This song was also on repeat for months. The chorus says, “Though you slay me,
yet I will praise you. Though you take from me, I will bless your name. Though
you ruin me, still I will worship, sing a song to the one who’s all I need. ”
There were many (most) days, that I could not sing this. It was my prayer. The
message from John Piper in the middle of the song was a balm to my soul. </span><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="color: #222222; font-family: "symbol"; font-size: 12.0pt;">·<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span><!--[endif]--><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;">Song: Show us Christ:
Sovereign Grace Music<br />
</span></b><span style="font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gk2Y7WoM4h4">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gk2Y7WoM4h4</a><br />
Based on the verse in John 6:68, “<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial;">Simon
Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have </span>the words of
eternal life.” Often in grief I came back to this verse. As hard as it
was to trust the Lord, only Jesus offered any real hope. </span><b><span style="color: #222222; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-14239259692994357472019-10-24T15:02:00.002-07:002019-10-24T15:02:44.296-07:00REJOICE IN THE LORD, ALWAYS<br />
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<span class="text"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><sup><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">“</span></sup></i></b></span><span class="text"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.</span></i></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">” <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Philippians
4:4<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">This week
we have rejoiced in the Lord, and the good sweet gift of our daughter Adelle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When we
found out we were expecting in March, we were incredibly thankful. A positive
pregnancy test was an answer to a year and a half of prayer. Our excitement was
real, as was our fear. We knew that a positive pregnancy test did not necessarily
equal a promise of a healthy baby, and yet our desire was to celebrate every
day of life the Lord granted us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As the
weeks passed, we began to make plans. We struggled day by day to trust in God’s
sovereignty, and were constantly reminded that “having faith” meant trusting
the Lord to be good no matter what happened, not a blind assurance that He
would do what we wanted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In June,
I traveled back to Texas in order to have access to the best medical care and
resources possible. Our son Ezekiel was born prematurely at 30 weeks (7
months), and we wanted to do whatever we could to be prepared for a similar
situation. Franco stayed in Bolivia until August to continue with ministry
responsibilities and because of his visa situation. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The two
months we were apart were hard and emotional, but we were overwhelmed with
gratitude for the generosity of those that gave of their time, finances,
prayers and generosity to make it possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">When
Franco arrived in August we breathed a collective sigh of relief. However, we
were also nearing the 30 week mark of pregnancy, and I expected to go into
labor any day. Although the doctors said Adelle was healthy and growing, I had
my hospital bag packed, and by the door. As the days passed, the idea that we
might really have a baby became more and more real. Each week I watched my
videos about baby’s development, and read about the risks of premature babies
and the odds of survival. I alternated between planning for coming home from
the hospital, and thinking about what songs I would sing at a funeral. I
praised God for the kicks inside of me, but hesitated to take the tags off of
anything, because I still wasn’t sure I would be able to use it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In
September, my sister moved to Northern Ireland to study, and my parents went
with her. While they were traveling, we went for a check-up, and the
sonogram technician suddenly got quiet. She was concerned about signs of early labor,
and my doctor agreed. Before going home, I was given my first round of steroid
shots to help mature Adelle’s lungs in case she was born early. I was also put
on bed rest, and I was sure she would be born any day. Since Franco doesn’t
drive in the USA, my mom sent out a request to her friends, and we were
immediately taken care of. Dear friends and family were so gracious in serving
us, visiting us, bringing groceries, delivering meals, taking us to doctor’s
appointments, picking up prescriptions, etc… We were reminded that even in
difficult circumstances, God shows His love for us through His people, and we
could trust Him in whatever was to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As time passed,
we were amazed that Adelle continued to grow. A sweet friend was teaching me to
knit, and I spent my days knitting this blanket, and reflecting on the fact
that as I knit this blanket, God was knitting Adelle together in the womb. As I
made mistake after mistake, I marveled at the fact that God does not. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">On Wednesday,
October 16<sup>th</sup>, two years and three months after Ezekiel was born,
Franco and I woke up about 4:30 am, anxious to get to the hospital for our
scheduled C-section at noon. I took my time getting ready, because I wanted to
make sure that I had pictures with Adelle when she was born. With Ezekiel
everything happened so fast and unexpectedly that we were only able to take a
few pictures of him in the incubator before he went to be with the Lord. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Leaving for the hospital!</div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">The drive
to the hospital seemed surreal. I couldn’t believe we had made it to term at 37
weeks of pregnancy. It was a miracle! When we got to the hospital, we walked up
to the admissions desk, and I informed them I was there for my c-section. As if
it was as normal as checking in to any other appointment I had ever had. The
sweet volunteer asked if it was our first baby, and I told her it was, because
that seemed easier. She grinned when I told her it was a girl, and she informed
me I should start saving for the wedding! Ha! We are still saving for the
birth! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">After a
few minutes, we were called back to prepare for surgery, and we spent the next
two hours being poked and prodded and monitored. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Finally,
at noon, they took me to the operating room, and Franco changed into his
scrubs. I had read online that Oct. 16<sup>th</sup> was World Anesthesia Day,
so I congratulated my anesthesiologist as he administered the anesthesia. He
didn’t know about it, but I assured him Wikepedia said it was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">As they
began the surgery, I waited for Franco to come in and listened to Gwen Stefani’s
“Hollaback Girl” on the radio in the background. Hopefully that isn’t a sign of
things to come, but it made me laugh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">A few
minutes after Franco arrived, the doctors lowered the curtain, and we heard the
first sweet cries of our daughter. We cried tears of joy and relief as she
continued to cry. Franco went to be with her, and I waited impatiently for them
to bring her back to me. As I held her, I praised God for bringing her safely
into the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Now we
are home, and we continue to praise God for every moment He gives us with her. Even
the 2:00 am diaper changes and feedings feel extra sweet, because we know what
it is to wake up at 2:00 am and NOT have a diaper to change.</span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We love
to watch her facial expressions, and imagine what her life will look like and
who she will be. But sometimes, I look at her face, and I see her brother. In
those moments the grief is fresh, and I am amazed at how similar they look. I
watch her face move, and remember the moments that I stared at her brother’s
still face thinking of Lazarus rising from the grave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCiehsTIhQ-6P8KJHj4EeT17GgxaL-KPCBBjIydHHqF9x1POyi163PqEv4xaPnApYJk-v-UFtXj4NuwLIU4QYpfwsuCl1YRz1DlF2FUBjgAQD1VUXnJ2zVRq6GWsESGdK9U3oYHAyBg-a/s1600/72570193_1026261964401990_8103703874155577344_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1064" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtCiehsTIhQ-6P8KJHj4EeT17GgxaL-KPCBBjIydHHqF9x1POyi163PqEv4xaPnApYJk-v-UFtXj4NuwLIU4QYpfwsuCl1YRz1DlF2FUBjgAQD1VUXnJ2zVRq6GWsESGdK9U3oYHAyBg-a/s640/72570193_1026261964401990_8103703874155577344_n.jpg" width="424" /></a></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">And in
those moments, I am reminded of the verse: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span class="text"><b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><sup>“</sup></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Rejoice in
the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice.</i></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; float: none; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: start; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">” <o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Philippians
4:4<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">In the
days after Ezekiel was born, I wrote in the margin in my Bible beside this
verse, “Not when you want to rejoice – rejoice always!” It has often been a
struggle since then, but I have learned that I am rejoicing in the Lord, and
His finished and saving work on the cross. I am rejoicing in my good, loving
Father, who allowed His son to take my sin and shame upon Himself. I am
rejoicing in a God that was not only with me in my suffering, but a God that
shared in my suffering Himself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Even now,
as I am grateful for, and rejoice in the good and undeserved gift of a healthy baby
girl, I am ultimately called to rejoice in the Lord and who He is, not only in
what He chooses to give. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin;">We are
IMMENSELY grateful for SO many of your prayers, your generosity, and sacrifices
you have made. We pray that today as you read this, whether you are rejoicing
in the Lord and His good gifts, or rejoicing in the Lord and His hard gifts,
you feel the joy and peace that surpass understanding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-88849700324757691112019-05-06T09:37:00.000-07:002019-05-06T09:37:20.140-07:00Picture Update<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b>CHILDREN'S DAY CELEBRATION</b></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aqJfBY0WDDAkuPxD04D9fHevN02kokbi9gxe29q0d5REs-gN_2IM3_0DCXApRrmdE6uFxqhuUSRZ_chjk0qBdzoUvfRpRM-FGrosMbAeeTKmG9bN4oSs7IpIzfiaGOAuSpW0BTkLm8kB/s1600/CHILDRENS+DAY+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_aqJfBY0WDDAkuPxD04D9fHevN02kokbi9gxe29q0d5REs-gN_2IM3_0DCXApRrmdE6uFxqhuUSRZ_chjk0qBdzoUvfRpRM-FGrosMbAeeTKmG9bN4oSs7IpIzfiaGOAuSpW0BTkLm8kB/s640/CHILDRENS+DAY+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bolivia celebrates Children's Day on April 12th each year. At Happy Hour each child got a balloon and a special snack. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTI0A1ypwH0h9pmfbpxvpF-chA53XKr6KlCq41CQjpBokiy08mFtasrMTAD7IrYpONEGtAJUSeLBhDbHaKxitVC1xLw4ypXETto6ydhlB5qI0zcAiC10TD9lop9LITZJcCeuW4cT3qw5S/s1600/CHILDRENS+DAY+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDTI0A1ypwH0h9pmfbpxvpF-chA53XKr6KlCq41CQjpBokiy08mFtasrMTAD7IrYpONEGtAJUSeLBhDbHaKxitVC1xLw4ypXETto6ydhlB5qI0zcAiC10TD9lop9LITZJcCeuW4cT3qw5S/s640/CHILDRENS+DAY+3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Halloween is heavily tied to dark spiritual traditions in Bolivia, so Children's Day is an alternative for dressing up! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihc4b5BhzeWYbfLP1C1AERRttToo2MZ0dP3cpr_ZffITu8RBMcMEdGS9_kQVglW9b705Xyf1YESn1k6y94cT08jBNAqhIHUkfHVAK1AvNXgE93Dtk1Y5VrmyygBUbaCL6ymLgLpBtCkWj/s1600/CHILDRENS+DAY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihc4b5BhzeWYbfLP1C1AERRttToo2MZ0dP3cpr_ZffITu8RBMcMEdGS9_kQVglW9b705Xyf1YESn1k6y94cT08jBNAqhIHUkfHVAK1AvNXgE93Dtk1Y5VrmyygBUbaCL6ymLgLpBtCkWj/s640/CHILDRENS+DAY.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On special occasions we always have lots of kids at Happy Hour!<br />(Pay no attention to the sleeping child in the corner... it really was a fun day!)</td></tr>
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<b>GUITAR CLASSES</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhkkgYGpk8EAAkd_YKlGYoziuLnWdZbNEBAlHQd268MiaoovR9PzX33mEgrm2pSs5zVwtIHdVExPB38HB3k7cONUI7gLkY48bECc4OAKhxU8G1lru_kmlNjV2s0hDGXvITWlef3bh6l2w/s1600/GUITAR+CLASS+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEhkkgYGpk8EAAkd_YKlGYoziuLnWdZbNEBAlHQd268MiaoovR9PzX33mEgrm2pSs5zVwtIHdVExPB38HB3k7cONUI7gLkY48bECc4OAKhxU8G1lru_kmlNjV2s0hDGXvITWlef3bh6l2w/s640/GUITAR+CLASS+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This month we have started guitar classes on Friday afternoons. The kids are learning to play guitar using the worship songs we sing at Happy Hour. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LdHlYeVVCDmJRdAaLkQHRosoWqylCQqiGojaAjU8pw6zbuu6is4rqUk0vxMpS0iEInW0kyaOGrU8ymiMCVoJu0SqzNK-mHj4_n-hOcjfMbhQPkialrGxCfHFyM_z9Bc8r0Qp5gEn2pXI/s1600/GUITAR+CLASS+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7LdHlYeVVCDmJRdAaLkQHRosoWqylCQqiGojaAjU8pw6zbuu6is4rqUk0vxMpS0iEInW0kyaOGrU8ymiMCVoJu0SqzNK-mHj4_n-hOcjfMbhQPkialrGxCfHFyM_z9Bc8r0Qp5gEn2pXI/s640/GUITAR+CLASS+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a slow process.....</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFOgiMdmzP9mi8nM2_aSFxj3hNazBEJ_gccDoTWkTl_O42X5KJbb-XXhksnM26jM903v_LwHjlNt5P5j8gkvWhOe5ii7c8LVW1T5_UcpKYS8s3FMW8N9sIBvMt59V-GB8wTwhUZaicf8e/s1600/GUITAR+CLASS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvFOgiMdmzP9mi8nM2_aSFxj3hNazBEJ_gccDoTWkTl_O42X5KJbb-XXhksnM26jM903v_LwHjlNt5P5j8gkvWhOe5ii7c8LVW1T5_UcpKYS8s3FMW8N9sIBvMt59V-GB8wTwhUZaicf8e/s640/GUITAR+CLASS.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a great opportunity to meet some of the parents that don't normally come to Happy Hour in an informal setting.<br />(Homemade pizza is always a good thing too!)</td></tr>
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<b>HOME VISITS</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucRMH_srRK2c-cFADPdB8_4Tk9ETCm10EHz1SRrhiBeo2B_x-TZi0BeMWEzDl4vk_rJNxn3ZctcOQjc1blahDCqPT-e9P2JORrpvaLj4SYxgT-mpw2jW0T25bPus-W8NULscNDo6MezFV/s1600/BREAD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjucRMH_srRK2c-cFADPdB8_4Tk9ETCm10EHz1SRrhiBeo2B_x-TZi0BeMWEzDl4vk_rJNxn3ZctcOQjc1blahDCqPT-e9P2JORrpvaLj4SYxgT-mpw2jW0T25bPus-W8NULscNDo6MezFV/s640/BREAD.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Andres & Becky are expert bread makers, and they make fresh bread each week to take on our home visits. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUxEMNb8LDx8mFe5vGM9FIh8VBPnTetTrBUCUvoeOqDcLxNl8-HGc6n5EaPfkj34mxbEZg9xJOQyUWc2ApCgKMKvbY_oWrJx4hmeSkHR9m-WPL3kJCIDeCk1XoYhf2zGPjdS7vqNLkz3j/s1600/TWINS+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtUxEMNb8LDx8mFe5vGM9FIh8VBPnTetTrBUCUvoeOqDcLxNl8-HGc6n5EaPfkj34mxbEZg9xJOQyUWc2ApCgKMKvbY_oWrJx4hmeSkHR9m-WPL3kJCIDeCk1XoYhf2zGPjdS7vqNLkz3j/s640/TWINS+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We have been working with a family this week that is struggling to provide for their grandchildren. Franco is TRYING to communicate with the great grandmother who only speaks Quechua. Needless to say, there was a lot of sign language. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KFY2XoeVLK9nO9xOJnrpIy9na2nJhMM-BuRbTe3Cd-3d4lKZV08Zmuag1sKQQ1T8gx4hal3HR0aD7RWciCCKixnbuywUymz2NYZzf_Q1aeIeQEp90TtG-NEmTZrEw3DpPwHckZJLFZuI/s1600/TWINS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2KFY2XoeVLK9nO9xOJnrpIy9na2nJhMM-BuRbTe3Cd-3d4lKZV08Zmuag1sKQQ1T8gx4hal3HR0aD7RWciCCKixnbuywUymz2NYZzf_Q1aeIeQEp90TtG-NEmTZrEw3DpPwHckZJLFZuI/s640/TWINS.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This particular family raises pigs, chicken, cows, and harvests corn, as you can see laid out in the background. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LYsUxHxBWHeZPs8A6C34g4KJEWdc1ikqsdTvVw_50teNTntbgJR8dpi4EIzEdYrT5Re0vb-eVPwaTBJOd8iXIImaKLysWSM-n2pZFebxgykU4kBINmfE2SNUWb4ysvEkK8gFSwEcDWbp/s1600/CORN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3LYsUxHxBWHeZPs8A6C34g4KJEWdc1ikqsdTvVw_50teNTntbgJR8dpi4EIzEdYrT5Re0vb-eVPwaTBJOd8iXIImaKLysWSM-n2pZFebxgykU4kBINmfE2SNUWb4ysvEkK8gFSwEcDWbp/s640/CORN.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes we get put to work cutting the corn stalks.... </td></tr>
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<b>SUNDAY AFTERNOON BIBLE STUDY </b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5khePUrDGl6KPOJczm7ljgtDtpVuCOpEBAe8uj9mv9S2rcqLvZCDV76bLOkJ8haB7YUMkTo_CWn9ILXrf_dW6nU9NO0EsSI9yaZ6UCvd4I9IXVvxt4O7h2ibG6oSFk046O5iQnxvZF21e/s1600/BIBLE+STUDY+2%255D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5khePUrDGl6KPOJczm7ljgtDtpVuCOpEBAe8uj9mv9S2rcqLvZCDV76bLOkJ8haB7YUMkTo_CWn9ILXrf_dW6nU9NO0EsSI9yaZ6UCvd4I9IXVvxt4O7h2ibG6oSFk046O5iQnxvZF21e/s640/BIBLE+STUDY+2%255D.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We don't have a picture of the adults, but this is the table in preparation... </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMrFiuR5_Ebwm0zd6VmhzgRyeo_hLBS7Fcgz-wnRlvHUk-sAnPibdwJkvu_uVTtO2pQ4WbmXAYqgHVhS6fsRxdJDD_mi-bTrIJZRreCnAvJphSygPu4njsTvMfAO62kTsWbhHRgfH71Xv-/s1600/BIBLE+STUY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMrFiuR5_Ebwm0zd6VmhzgRyeo_hLBS7Fcgz-wnRlvHUk-sAnPibdwJkvu_uVTtO2pQ4WbmXAYqgHVhS6fsRxdJDD_mi-bTrIJZRreCnAvJphSygPu4njsTvMfAO62kTsWbhHRgfH71Xv-/s640/BIBLE+STUY.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Sunday afternoons we are studying the book of Acts with a few families from Happy Hour. The kids have their own class with Becky, and they are a lot cuter than the adults!<br /></td></tr>
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<b>TRIP TO THE MOVIES</b></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEY9wVW1v0OeC5rKUYQlnYui3nJkhkGtBl7ZvLzCNA3SgP-YjUWGEr0urzCM9ScAgHG6GA0Kjk3aV1kyHX47XZ_noLktJuTcSXsPY8ghRF8dGZo2fQoHhKvmXsO7HdtYLr4MFNumAE0fm/s1600/MOVIES+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGEY9wVW1v0OeC5rKUYQlnYui3nJkhkGtBl7ZvLzCNA3SgP-YjUWGEr0urzCM9ScAgHG6GA0Kjk3aV1kyHX47XZ_noLktJuTcSXsPY8ghRF8dGZo2fQoHhKvmXsO7HdtYLr4MFNumAE0fm/s640/MOVIES+1.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As a reward for memorizing bible verses, and having perfect attendance in her class at Happy Hour, "A" won a trip to the movies. We couldn't resist the $0.15 massage chairs, and she loved it! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWuGoNBQVBudKeaR5R-EUZskinDkGJBH1EvoZ3QuhpOzcfqSaoGVoTjIBmmb5seXFUW9StBn5vrrBqgzThpCh4jayhwCr6M2tVPkWwKaiPdkxGi_oa-2rQw_eGsZPZXn6IK_EgkrEuppU/s1600/MOVIES+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtWuGoNBQVBudKeaR5R-EUZskinDkGJBH1EvoZ3QuhpOzcfqSaoGVoTjIBmmb5seXFUW9StBn5vrrBqgzThpCh4jayhwCr6M2tVPkWwKaiPdkxGi_oa-2rQw_eGsZPZXn6IK_EgkrEuppU/s640/MOVIES+2.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She's happier than she looks, I promise.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_qwtIKWVrsgCwKlzZ9ahCTH24Fa3TKSe2-qmBl92fsFQ1T3rmVu5lcpGQmGTwziw3Na7ERkF7ub7WeFK8xHJRa75LCLEbSPe1_VdXNwNgdAP-B7nQc69IPjjlnRllbvFmtXxNrDz3zS8/s1600/MOVIES+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_qwtIKWVrsgCwKlzZ9ahCTH24Fa3TKSe2-qmBl92fsFQ1T3rmVu5lcpGQmGTwziw3Na7ERkF7ub7WeFK8xHJRa75LCLEbSPe1_VdXNwNgdAP-B7nQc69IPjjlnRllbvFmtXxNrDz3zS8/s640/MOVIES+3.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Outside of the movie theater!</td></tr>
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<b>BIBLE INSTITUTE IN CAMIRI</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco spent two week in April teaching a class in his hometown in southern Bolivia.<br /><br /><b>OTHER NEWS<br /></b></td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKic_3sKGKKuPQbIqA_3pi78yRSaan5gglAZ_EzKbzwUhk2w9IzjNwxglA-_I8KtAqZNkNbslMbCfPw4l-q31qV_d7mNY3ZDK17mftuOiKh7yuclhPDOWZp7zZAGatHM0VyAaEtdYCU96/s1600/IMG_0349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="578" data-original-width="640" height="578" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKic_3sKGKKuPQbIqA_3pi78yRSaan5gglAZ_EzKbzwUhk2w9IzjNwxglA-_I8KtAqZNkNbslMbCfPw4l-q31qV_d7mNY3ZDK17mftuOiKh7yuclhPDOWZp7zZAGatHM0VyAaEtdYCU96/s640/IMG_0349.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">We are expecting another baby in late October! We are so thankful for this life, and continue to trust God daily (and hourly).<br /></td></tr>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-24686551936524969102018-10-10T09:57:00.001-07:002018-10-10T09:57:57.464-07:00Curbside Pick-up... The Bolivian Way <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Over the last few weeks, I have been thinking about how I could best share our life in Bolivia with our friends and family from far away. One of the biggest differences in daily living is grocery shopping (and prices!). It is a far cry from curbside pick-up, but I have grown to <i>mostly</i> love it. </div>
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Because Cochabamba is one of the largest cities in Bolivia, we have a variety of options when it comes to shopping. There are two big chains of supermarkets (think Target and Walmart in the early 2000's), lots of smaller mini-mart type stores, and then traditional markets. </div>
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Because we rely on public transportation, getting to the big supermarkets is usually more trouble than it's worth. We typically go when we "need" specialty items like tortillas, cream cheese, peanut butter, etc... </div>
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On a normal week, we usually go to the market closest to our house for our groceries. About two blocks from our house, there is a bus that will take us to the market. The bus costs 1 boliviano each -about 15 cents.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb6PMFEvawoKtKR-EtOF5TlwX57JEHtPNVRZ_W2H_1A9PRQQmT4uJrW1ARmlSGz-ON0bWl7Sob8Z2cIW0C3Dx2qV9R6Fx2vX32Zq2B614GXkSyqPKL8Mr_HdJFFWbxP8jrhrw1D1h0iNY/s1600/IMG_E0230.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhb6PMFEvawoKtKR-EtOF5TlwX57JEHtPNVRZ_W2H_1A9PRQQmT4uJrW1ARmlSGz-ON0bWl7Sob8Z2cIW0C3Dx2qV9R6Fx2vX32Zq2B614GXkSyqPKL8Mr_HdJFFWbxP8jrhrw1D1h0iNY/s640/IMG_E0230.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When we get to the market, our first stop is to buy chicken! The meat section would definitely not meet any FDA regulations, and I try to hold my breath as we walk in. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisoaBo-lXuMyTAl7BPNvSoevSffGeW9cA3Yg9wfsmiRcioXlB8wcdTWHTbZ8KvkPFi3TjjWEZYn6NCQgEa3YmLN0cadRAuIGvlXAq_fOftiEdsmPYdnGunBIPdT5UkXm7d0O-ECLXE0XcR/s1600/IMG_E0231.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisoaBo-lXuMyTAl7BPNvSoevSffGeW9cA3Yg9wfsmiRcioXlB8wcdTWHTbZ8KvkPFi3TjjWEZYn6NCQgEa3YmLN0cadRAuIGvlXAq_fOftiEdsmPYdnGunBIPdT5UkXm7d0O-ECLXE0XcR/s640/IMG_E0231.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each week we go to stall #15 and buy chicken breasts for us, and all the leftovers (chicken feet, head, heart, liver, intestines) for our dog. The chicken breast costs about $1.50 per pound, and the leftovers are about $0.30 per pound.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdPGM9hyphenhyphenMdg5QQ8HFwQVWzY8-SDoK85IyFdrKzzJmcbYrTTzlHNanEqZbsJabJdOAjr-9pHziDVhg3wzLBOitn5wWV25Z-XSvHPvsc8lExFeK4_ABfI_gLRxseM3XtTKxy8bGz-L3ER1V/s1600/IMG_E0232.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdPGM9hyphenhyphenMdg5QQ8HFwQVWzY8-SDoK85IyFdrKzzJmcbYrTTzlHNanEqZbsJabJdOAjr-9pHziDVhg3wzLBOitn5wWV25Z-XSvHPvsc8lExFeK4_ABfI_gLRxseM3XtTKxy8bGz-L3ER1V/s640/IMG_E0232.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This week we had a small misunderstanding where I accidentally asked for 12 pounds instead of 12 chicken breasts. OOPS! Just when I think I've mastered Spanish, something always keeps me humble. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlYUt4C1FP8SnM033OYkd92EBsTKVPxpZfbVEJsncu04OB3k7bORmSX4esajpu-WF2V5PzJcVFQTlsKYbeOogSu8E6HnQwIVHxnewISWcNFB7nHoOF5qaQLLZsBj55ukWsTGKltOZnQbh7/s1600/IMG_E0236.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlYUt4C1FP8SnM033OYkd92EBsTKVPxpZfbVEJsncu04OB3k7bORmSX4esajpu-WF2V5PzJcVFQTlsKYbeOogSu8E6HnQwIVHxnewISWcNFB7nHoOF5qaQLLZsBj55ukWsTGKltOZnQbh7/s640/IMG_E0236.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our next stop is the vegetable section! There are around 15 vendors with their individual stands, but we try to go to the same one each week. The quality of vegetables seems to be the best, and the lady is always very friendly. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WSm5XLIpjc-NnG-FOW136YLu1KDZxURFEaJJsoWGH7uxI0OjpNArBaFNi2wH9-l4eC9-PBQNVRMW8bod9o2zvx6owpEXb1McKE9KLILaBkPTk6a8oucHV-_WWaPDKIRQKoXpP_6FPXp4/s1600/IMG_E0233.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1173" data-original-width="1600" height="468" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9WSm5XLIpjc-NnG-FOW136YLu1KDZxURFEaJJsoWGH7uxI0OjpNArBaFNi2wH9-l4eC9-PBQNVRMW8bod9o2zvx6owpEXb1McKE9KLILaBkPTk6a8oucHV-_WWaPDKIRQKoXpP_6FPXp4/s640/IMG_E0233.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco was the official photographer for this blog, which is pretty risky because the vendors are very cautious about being photographed. He did a good job taking sneaky pictures, so any blurry pictures are a result of that. :)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbfk3kJ40u1Rs5TyQblGJUHur_yGudDki1MaZ-N7BPzshRX7ATG7BlFUim5JlzXfvrepPdJ1HM8JJUPTvxHk9h2aDX7WBVKLifQ-L4OQOTaQEzRkp-BUO0ogk41dYYNK93tNUCxCQqCmU/s1600/IMG_E0238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLbfk3kJ40u1Rs5TyQblGJUHur_yGudDki1MaZ-N7BPzshRX7ATG7BlFUim5JlzXfvrepPdJ1HM8JJUPTvxHk9h2aDX7WBVKLifQ-L4OQOTaQEzRkp-BUO0ogk41dYYNK93tNUCxCQqCmU/s640/IMG_E0238.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The cost of vegetables in Bolivia is MUCH lower than in the United States, and they are all locally grown and organic. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-93KlhRh4cLy78RYfIGHpSFCz3mSQqmbOFzVvB-poQ8hPK5-JjR9wKaLGLs3SY_0SOkwLiJX0w_SYu6r9TTrZ1_OE-K1QA0x2or3HKrFXhtAZmoVYJczup9E4zPnFmecY9Lh3MMG1QuG/s1600/IMG_E0241.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK-93KlhRh4cLy78RYfIGHpSFCz3mSQqmbOFzVvB-poQ8hPK5-JjR9wKaLGLs3SY_0SOkwLiJX0w_SYu6r9TTrZ1_OE-K1QA0x2or3HKrFXhtAZmoVYJczup9E4zPnFmecY9Lh3MMG1QuG/s640/IMG_E0241.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our next stop is the fruit section! </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7kofifU9acjk8Xr6sa9KT3TYY2dbSrQzugP81pxNca7_KdKn93LKB0NNBuuVvuNc7cnM_qc_5X3dv6QE1xBu5cArdczVjmotD9GBPITTp0ypAsXMuqWi65EePZZBhGdZFxN9U6Rrses5/s1600/IMG_E0243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg7kofifU9acjk8Xr6sa9KT3TYY2dbSrQzugP81pxNca7_KdKn93LKB0NNBuuVvuNc7cnM_qc_5X3dv6QE1xBu5cArdczVjmotD9GBPITTp0ypAsXMuqWi65EePZZBhGdZFxN9U6Rrses5/s640/IMG_E0243.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco thinks the Garden of Eden must have looked something like this!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKSEf9xAGn7-pnJLwQCSYw_wKZG6LjkWzb-CU4c1zplhiuhzYl6FIR_J4bewuq1hM8VTOU5RsJZW9mSKSh7ZkAuTqOVfFJoSTJGzLWn5EmqWCG5RKnVHxYB6CayRWhuEaJ-yx_PHXPPN8/s1600/IMG_0221.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjKSEf9xAGn7-pnJLwQCSYw_wKZG6LjkWzb-CU4c1zplhiuhzYl6FIR_J4bewuq1hM8VTOU5RsJZW9mSKSh7ZkAuTqOVfFJoSTJGzLWn5EmqWCG5RKnVHxYB6CayRWhuEaJ-yx_PHXPPN8/s640/IMG_0221.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After our shopping, we stop into out favorite snack place to re-new our strength and people watch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fFbEecYA3JtUHYR7cLQj6ROB1WlLKXWn0gsvo4zfTySyJnFLY1wQWulBzzGRbKgUcpocjLl6GsD5OJwIpw_SmEbHlHhyA4RexZAOCgjM9zof-z02T16uTNDOk1DnHB5mYjq5neHuLAk2/s1600/IMG_0228.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5fFbEecYA3JtUHYR7cLQj6ROB1WlLKXWn0gsvo4zfTySyJnFLY1wQWulBzzGRbKgUcpocjLl6GsD5OJwIpw_SmEbHlHhyA4RexZAOCgjM9zof-z02T16uTNDOk1DnHB5mYjq5neHuLAk2/s640/IMG_0228.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I almost always order my favorite combo: a Tucumana (fried and breaded with llama meat, onion and peas served with a spicy peanut sauce), and a mini coke. For only $1!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lNvnP-EQPQo3gn4byqb7yjI9cWOHvpgrVfyoCL3YHK93FcZQL77Bfkt5iToXEO7gae8MGXYkijVHzXfRJz-01tZ9pG6N62uiQxnBgpuCIxb4yVdSpRscvztEQvw9fNS8ErAASox5D27k/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4lNvnP-EQPQo3gn4byqb7yjI9cWOHvpgrVfyoCL3YHK93FcZQL77Bfkt5iToXEO7gae8MGXYkijVHzXfRJz-01tZ9pG6N62uiQxnBgpuCIxb4yVdSpRscvztEQvw9fNS8ErAASox5D27k/s640/IMG_0245.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With renewed strength, we make the walk to the bus. The bus leaves us about three block from our house, and poor Franco carries our groceries. (This is one of the nicest perks of marriage. When I first came to Bolivia I struggled with my groceries alone, and had more than a few embarrassing moments as my bags broke and I tried to maneuver my way in and out of crowded buses.) </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LLv2lgJ-fT7GsTwcK6xLYQRGPLetWrH4lFguud4kjp5rm8tEX2EagwqzRCETL8JhIFLoTquEm4N3pOKwsVMyg30HO5RpvKECEsUTin9yM2i8Xf5FhD5PSBdYItadPbjQYg6PU29MdULa/s1600/IMG_0246.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2LLv2lgJ-fT7GsTwcK6xLYQRGPLetWrH4lFguud4kjp5rm8tEX2EagwqzRCETL8JhIFLoTquEm4N3pOKwsVMyg30HO5RpvKECEsUTin9yM2i8Xf5FhD5PSBdYItadPbjQYg6PU29MdULa/s640/IMG_0246.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost home! We live across from the second light post.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjej31a4TH48Rhms7T4fJl4SGCVMri2msbpx64JJGEIgKXMND1QxaBv9iFo43k_TQjhtHXbMFXY9EW2AtwCryoHd7AIe7Ep0vDwTyEXUNamOXSNjYQN7knOz3P0UkOMfYdPK8dafbPCzklS/s1600/IMG_E0247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjej31a4TH48Rhms7T4fJl4SGCVMri2msbpx64JJGEIgKXMND1QxaBv9iFo43k_TQjhtHXbMFXY9EW2AtwCryoHd7AIe7Ep0vDwTyEXUNamOXSNjYQN7knOz3P0UkOMfYdPK8dafbPCzklS/s640/IMG_E0247.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I laid out the groceries so they were easier to see. As you can see, we mostly eat chicken and vegetables, accompanied by rice or noodles (we buy those in bulk). </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsPq0xSFKtICTBR2hdASEI_9iuz3IYxryDRhd8CMByapqZlB4RU5nUa0-ciZvnIPO_ZV6o6iDmuQ3tWl4f8ch7Jtc7qerVFLphkl7qWbo3M_dbXbmKKDeXaF2wLXhjduQ1qlUBZybKN7j/s1600/IMG_E0248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsPq0xSFKtICTBR2hdASEI_9iuz3IYxryDRhd8CMByapqZlB4RU5nUa0-ciZvnIPO_ZV6o6iDmuQ3tWl4f8ch7Jtc7qerVFLphkl7qWbo3M_dbXbmKKDeXaF2wLXhjduQ1qlUBZybKN7j/s640/IMG_E0248.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Milk & Coffee come in a bag! To serve, a small hole is cut in the corner of the bag, and can then be poured. (I could do a whole blog on all of the things that are sold in plastic bags here..... suffice to say that the gas station next to our house sells gasoline in plastic bags.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5pyuoSLP1EbOUHnK8538gsxFkp5qteN7vD28LLRlllfyBAbOYtzMB8PeufXfNdLHZSTuVLAjTVKoOzF5vWlXw3d2WeyUPTt0IyofAWQ0Wr410rDdRONmp6hdcL1dVpqaULyYC-dSk14E/s1600/IMG_E0249.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-5pyuoSLP1EbOUHnK8538gsxFkp5qteN7vD28LLRlllfyBAbOYtzMB8PeufXfNdLHZSTuVLAjTVKoOzF5vWlXw3d2WeyUPTt0IyofAWQ0Wr410rDdRONmp6hdcL1dVpqaULyYC-dSk14E/s640/IMG_E0249.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the last year or so I have discovered these bags or pre-cut vegetables and they make life so much easier! They come with cabbage, carrots, spinach, pumpkin, and sometimes peas. They are great to add to a soup or stir-fry! ($0.30)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNhagBdoAIIbAW5qMnY6LGqPRmimJ-ys3uDzFbDunHXo4wRSOQd79T1dAJRnrG8bzyn7a1ClSUzl_MbzBYA1qCqQaZrkOXpOQj06EbvWsmYMbXmqG6laIzFmQjdzuSvHahn-2eiiOoczM/s1600/IMG_E0251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidNhagBdoAIIbAW5qMnY6LGqPRmimJ-ys3uDzFbDunHXo4wRSOQd79T1dAJRnrG8bzyn7a1ClSUzl_MbzBYA1qCqQaZrkOXpOQj06EbvWsmYMbXmqG6laIzFmQjdzuSvHahn-2eiiOoczM/s640/IMG_E0251.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is can of pineapple chunks. It is also a part of the government subsidy of food that every pregnant and breast-feeding mother in Bolivia is entitled to. "PROHIBIDA SU VENTA" means ""PROHIBITED TO SELL". Almost every time I go shopping I end up buying something from the subsidy. I guess its a good thing only the selling is illegal, not the buying!</td></tr>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-34007542089594347092018-09-26T11:18:00.001-07:002018-09-26T11:57:51.013-07:0018,000 + WORDS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This past July, I celebrated my anniversary with Bolivia. In July of 2012 I came to Bolivia for the first time, and in July of 2014 I moved to Bolivia with exactly 99.5 lbs of luggage and a backpack that probably weighed almost as much.<br />
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As time has passed, the novelty of life here has faded. The things I once considered foreign have become [mostly] normal. I used to be afraid of getting burned when I lit a match, and now I light a match to start the stove several times a day. I used to cringe when greeting people with a cheek to cheek air kiss, and now I only cringe when the other person is especially sweaty or has prickly facial hair.<br />
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Over the last four years, Bolivia has become my second home. There are things about this country that are really beautiful, and there are also things that I am still waiting for the Lord to make beautiful.<br />
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I would love to share my second home with all of you, (please come and visit... we have a room for you!) both the beautiful things, and the not so beautiful things. But because that isn't very probable, I thought I'd share pictures from a typical week in Bolivia.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMD4rsmeGC33BfyrT9eT08mEy9xt-98ons8eDXoiEcHntWi1YaebBvnF7DFn13F8EZdI7oT4TOW6-jVcHLI68jxV-B5RlWar7bszdUTC2ULKwjV-VazVuGZBNWKdyZeCAF4G78odwyi9Cn/s1600/IMG_0180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMD4rsmeGC33BfyrT9eT08mEy9xt-98ons8eDXoiEcHntWi1YaebBvnF7DFn13F8EZdI7oT4TOW6-jVcHLI68jxV-B5RlWar7bszdUTC2ULKwjV-VazVuGZBNWKdyZeCAF4G78odwyi9Cn/s640/IMG_0180.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On Saturdays before Happy Hour starts, the kids start arriving up to two hours early to play soccer. The Happy Hour building and land is such a blessing, and our prayer is for it to be a local church in the near future!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHz3RTB3zAQbLBjvi3T1yblYyZKBSGIFizwocmU_PsnvoluQSXb8HlawNXZ07ge9iWFpTa91Uc-fG1WePnyTrKkvJeJwft3_IxMhp2tqLPQDEPN6gp0uM1aCn8Um6oPRTzr1Wihyphenhyphend67uI/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHz3RTB3zAQbLBjvi3T1yblYyZKBSGIFizwocmU_PsnvoluQSXb8HlawNXZ07ge9iWFpTa91Uc-fG1WePnyTrKkvJeJwft3_IxMhp2tqLPQDEPN6gp0uM1aCn8Um6oPRTzr1Wihyphenhyphend67uI/s640/IMG_0191.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">While the kids are playing in the park, I get to talk to the women who come with their children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews, neighbors, etc...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWozyoijghAXBvEvJYLgmvOeYU6oARnEb-zRKVorUt2ALblFTclJbxI1IthLBjQXELZfA-f7n9Lp2WdxhUG9d-qupABrGyLkRTiLyII2KReMkLnTpepC5JzsZeCtITgxfVpW7o0j93N439/s1600/IMG_0184.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWozyoijghAXBvEvJYLgmvOeYU6oARnEb-zRKVorUt2ALblFTclJbxI1IthLBjQXELZfA-f7n9Lp2WdxhUG9d-qupABrGyLkRTiLyII2KReMkLnTpepC5JzsZeCtITgxfVpW7o0j93N439/s640/IMG_0184.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This little boy is a monkey in and out of class. Last week he climbed onto a stack of tables, opened the window and jumped outside during prayer. I really should pray with my eyes open.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmoBG_J3kFpfPXr8-P7cj4VmxAvaUgFb-Mm6RjJ-yMlLthf5c_v9B3WegMszp-rAIQzt-qidFta0YIMGq2GoSIHw31gbmgaTt325qJuSGYV4rl06o9L_w_USR_60V4PwjhxMxlQqP4hpuM/s1600/IMG_0194.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmoBG_J3kFpfPXr8-P7cj4VmxAvaUgFb-Mm6RjJ-yMlLthf5c_v9B3WegMszp-rAIQzt-qidFta0YIMGq2GoSIHw31gbmgaTt325qJuSGYV4rl06o9L_w_USR_60V4PwjhxMxlQqP4hpuM/s640/IMG_0194.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worship time with the kids before going to their classes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiITO08A1Q9krl1bC3Gp3pk9cgVeCq7jB1YH6Q8SRfUBstQh4VhD1g3YoAM_g8j2gmgN-Zy-qZwwLyHjjcuONpI4MICohVpWySYN5PgNJeU34ik6CxxCc8wjB0Ti-FeH3gBBqwIzfIMN_/s1600/IMG_0193.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiITO08A1Q9krl1bC3Gp3pk9cgVeCq7jB1YH6Q8SRfUBstQh4VhD1g3YoAM_g8j2gmgN-Zy-qZwwLyHjjcuONpI4MICohVpWySYN5PgNJeU34ik6CxxCc8wjB0Ti-FeH3gBBqwIzfIMN_/s640/IMG_0193.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Each song has a visual aid for the lyrics (Forget projectors!) The kids love to be in charge of displaying the lyrics, so it is extremely ineffective, but they enjoy it. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rtSObVu5C4sdo06cCUCPvjjeUl-9RnxGRodw-1wi9wjU5xByqOtKh_Mb4sHuOnbFzbLhWPWOAX3DnP5BHSUnv4wAEKwIB41kgecAkFACej-hNhQ13FNuDTdNX51-WyTVcshaM4u0McZs/s1600/IMG_0196.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9rtSObVu5C4sdo06cCUCPvjjeUl-9RnxGRodw-1wi9wjU5xByqOtKh_Mb4sHuOnbFzbLhWPWOAX3DnP5BHSUnv4wAEKwIB41kgecAkFACej-hNhQ13FNuDTdNX51-WyTVcshaM4u0McZs/s640/IMG_0196.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Singing "I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back, no turning back". We pray that this would be more than a song, but something real.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4fdeXg0Q_GoZewoOiT0Wstb9LEQ1R3Fix-SxiVAViekaCjpnkMeG3DggBN2ujMVA7ZKCc0rzcePYjihyphenhyphenaCozvTDP0wdMtTLSIziofRVTQJx2TiC7nUt9QkPaR8gIFYbAXD0Gy5Nm_zz_/s1600/IMG_0214.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="640" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv4fdeXg0Q_GoZewoOiT0Wstb9LEQ1R3Fix-SxiVAViekaCjpnkMeG3DggBN2ujMVA7ZKCc0rzcePYjihyphenhyphenaCozvTDP0wdMtTLSIziofRVTQJx2TiC7nUt9QkPaR8gIFYbAXD0Gy5Nm_zz_/s640/IMG_0214.PNG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After worship, we have three different classes. Franco teaches the 10 years and older class.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXOIFnINqtkfbRtm94Dl3Z8tLvotYseVxHWOkeKdSN7XyOC1kgrwXuCtjt9PMD96wy_Mse1IZzF_1F0RrB2lgmqp3x0Qf7ZP1MMQfVGb2J5RS3MjScAqmrXEatL_-lFQnyqZSRGke-zgH/s1600/IMG_0197.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFXOIFnINqtkfbRtm94Dl3Z8tLvotYseVxHWOkeKdSN7XyOC1kgrwXuCtjt9PMD96wy_Mse1IZzF_1F0RrB2lgmqp3x0Qf7ZP1MMQfVGb2J5RS3MjScAqmrXEatL_-lFQnyqZSRGke-zgH/s640/IMG_0197.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have the six and under class. We are learning about the miracles of Jesus this month.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As we have tried to become more involved in our community, we have been intentional about doing everything as close to home as possible so we can meet our neighbors. As I was getting my hair trimmed across the street (risky), we ran into a guy we had met a couple of times before. He informed us that he was going to get his dentures made, and proceeded to show us the dentures in his pocket. He then insisted that Franco take a picture of this sign with a phone number so that we can refer all of our friends that need dentures. (And I just thought getting my hair cut here was risky.) We actually do know a lot of people that need dentures, but I haven't found a polite way to suggest that just yet. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">During the week, we visit the families that come to Happy Hour. Sometimes our visits are quick, and sometimes we get to stay and share a story from the Bible and pray with the families. Many of the families come from a very close knit farming community. It is easy for us to see the families freshly bathed and in their best clothes at Happy Hour and forget the hard situations they are coming from.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The family that lives here comes every week to Happy Hour. There are six siblings, and the oldest girl (11 years) bathes all of her siblings and washes their clothes so that they can come.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They raise turkeys to sell, and everytime we visit I get excited about Thanksgiving!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Speaking of food, the grill we got from the jail for our 1st anniversary continues to be well loved. A couple time a month we have families from Happy Hour or church over for a delicious barbecue.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bolivia has SO MANY holidays. Almost every week we are celebrating something. This was September 14th, Cochabamba's anniversary. We went with Franco's brother and sister-in-law to a park outside the city and enjoyed fresh air!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This couple became Christians a little over a year ago, and decided to get married! They have been sweet friends to us, and Franco was honored to get to be the master of ceremonies for their wedding. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember when I told everyone that I was going to Bolivia to be a librarian?? Well four years later, I actually am! Three days a week I am helping with the library at Carachipampa Christian School. I love getting to recommend good books, and I especially enjoy spending time with the kids I have taught over the last few years. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking out books to my first grade class of 2014! They are almost 5th graders now (because of the calendar change from American to Bolivian system) I don't know how much I taught them, but they are reading big books now, so that's a good sign!</td></tr>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-20961779489150044482018-07-18T16:21:00.001-07:002018-07-18T16:21:32.569-07:00Radical Hospitality - Sacrificing the Guinea PigFor years, I resisted the trend. I laughed in the face of Pinterest. I thought it was like a grown up version of “playing house”.<br />
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Then, overnight I became a temporary first grade teacher. And Pinterest became my best friend.<br />
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It turns out, Pinterest is actually a great resource for teachers. It is also a great resource for new recipes, cleaning tips, haircut ideas, and just about anything else you can imagine.<br />
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Just like with anything, Pinterest can be dangerous if we begin to put our hope in what it can offer us. But, it can also be a tool to serve the Lord and to serve others.<br />
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So, one day, as I was preparing the extra room for guests I thought – “Why not see what ideas Pinterest has to make our guests feel welcome?”<br />
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It turned out, there were thousands of ideas. I found out that in order to be hospitable, I should:<br />
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•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Provide water bottles in the guest room.<br />
•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Find a cute way to write the wifi password.<br />
•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Provide fluffy towels.<br />
•<span style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Light a candle.<br />
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The list could (and does) go on and on and on. And I’m sure those would all be great additions to a guest room. But then I started to think about what makes me feel welcome in other people’s houses, and although I appreciate a nice fluffy towel, the towel can’t make me feel welcome.<br />
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Last week, we went to visit a family from Happy Hour. As we walked up to the gate, their dog ran out to greet us. The kids, cats, chickens, and even the ducks made us feel welcome. They carefully set up tree trunks for us to sit on, and took clean towels off the clothes line so that we wouldn’t get dirty sitting directly on the tree trunk. We talked for about an hour, as we drank Coca-Cola out of shared glasses. Before we left, they showed us their cows, and their guinea pigs. The cow’s milk is the main source of income for the family, and the guinea pigs are sold to eat. Later that afternoon, we received a pot of rice, potatoes, and fried guinea pig as a gift.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our hospitable friends, and their cow, Juana. (Not pictured: our guinea pig lunch)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She wasn't that happy to see us.</td></tr>
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While I would never suggest serving up your guinea pigs to make guests feel welcome, I think there is something we can learn about sacrificial giving and generosity from this family. I didn’t feel welcome because of the Pinterest worthy décor or accommodations. I felt welcome because they gave sacrificially of themselves and their resources.<br />
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Hospitality is defined as: the friendly and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers<br />
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So while there is nothing wrong with fluffy towels, or a nice candle, I am challenged to let my hospitality look more like this:<br />
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“Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with brotherly affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Never flag in zeal, be aglow with the Spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in your hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints, practice hospitality.” Romans 12:9-13<br />
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So come and visit us in Bolivia, you may or may not get a fluffy towel and a guinea pig. ;)<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-40756051040679266412018-07-16T15:08:00.002-07:002018-07-16T15:09:33.456-07:00One Year - In the ValleyIn January of 2011, I went to a winter retreat with the campus ministry that I was involved in. I don’t remember most of what happened at that retreat. I can’t tell you the theme. I don’t remember the speaker’s name. I have no idea what he even spoke about. What I do remember is a verse we memorized together.<br />
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“The Lord our God is a sun and shield. The Lord gives grace and mercy. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11<br />
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I memorized this verse with the hundreds of other college students. I don’t remember why we memorized it, or how many times we must have repeated it together, but it stayed with me.<br />
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It’s a nice verse. We like to think of our God as a sun and a shield. A sun is powerful. Life-giving. A shield protects us. We like that God gives grace and mercy. We are in desperate need of both. I think we really like the last part. NO good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly. So, if I walk with the Lord, He will not withhold anything good from me? Sounds great!<br />
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But, then, a year ago today, our son was born prematurely at seven months. Seven hours later, he was with the Lord.<br />
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That day our hospital room was full of visitors. The hospital must have waived the two visitors at a time rule, because at one point I’m sure there were at least twenty. We were surrounded by people that wanted to help in whatever way they could.<br />
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A family from church offered us a spot in their family burial plot, and the next afternoon I was being carried across the cemetery in a borrowed wheelchair to my son’s burial.<br />
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The next morning I woke up with this verse on my mind.<br />
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“The Lord our God is a sun and shield. The Lord gives grace and mercy. No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.” Psalm 84:11<br />
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Suddenly it didn’t seem like such a nice verse anymore. At least, not the last part. Over and over I repeated the second sentence in my heart.<br />
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NO good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.<br />
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I wrestled with the Lord. So was my son not considered a good thing, or was I not walking uprightly? Why did it feel like God was withholding a very good thing, when I was walking with the Lord in the best way I knew how?<br />
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Over the last year, I have continued to wrestle with this question. I have come to believe that my son was absolutely a good gift from the Lord. I also don’t believe that God was in some way punishing me for not walking uprightly. (Although I often do not walk uprightly.)<br />
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Instead, I believe that God in his grace and mercy has given us other good gifts through the loss of our son.<br />
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He has allowed us to know Him more in our suffering. He has been near, and comforted us as we grieve. And in that, He has shown just how merciful He was in sending His son to die for our sins, so that we might live forever with Him.<br />
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A few weeks ago I saw a post from a grieving father that said, “Where was God when my son died? The same place He was when His son died. On His throne.” He is still good, and He is still in control.<br />
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So today we celebrate the life of our son, and we also grieve the brokenness of this world. We put our hope in the God that knows our suffering and promises to be a sun and shield. To bring grace and glory. And to withhold NO good things, even the good things that are painful.<br />
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My prayer today is that we would rejoice in the good God who has not withheld the BEST thing, His son. May this song continue to be our prayer.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-13707440497188076782018-06-04T15:55:00.000-07:002018-06-04T16:03:45.655-07:00Welcoming WinterAs I scroll through Facebook, I am reminded of summer. Teachers are finishing end of year cleaning. Parents are proud of their graduating students. Students are enjoying their new freedom at the pool/river/beach. People are traveling. Even the people that are officially adults and don’t get to do anything fun are complaining about the heat while enjoying beautiful popsicles with a summery background.<br />
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But this isn’t a blog about the danger of comparing my life to others, or the dangers of Facebook. Even without the benefit of social media to see all the best filtered moments of other people’s lives, my own heart tells me what I should expect at this time of year. Summer is typically a time of newness. Warmth. Freedom. Exciting things. Traveling. Visitors.<br />
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So as I watch others begin their summers from afar, I watch the leaves fall off the trees in my yard. I put on (another) jacket before walking to the store. I put off showering (again) because it is too cold. And I wish it could be summer in Bolivia.<br />
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But during summer in Bolivia, I wished for winter. As I put up our Christmas tree in shorts, I listened to Christmas music and dreamed of a white Christmas (as if we have white Christmas’ in Texas). I got a sunburn while I went Christmas shopping. I sweated during Christmas dinner with a scarf on in 95 degree weather because it felt more festive.<br />
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All of the seasons are reversed in Bolivia, and I often find myself wishing for the season of the Northern Hemisphere. And as a result, I don’t enjoy any of the seasons.<br />
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Rather than buying some pumpkin, lighting some candles, and enjoying the leaves in the yard, I wish for summer. Rather than enjoying summer-time at Christmas, I trick myself into believing it’s actually really cold and festive.<br />
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And in the process, I miss out on the season I am in.<br />
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How often do we do that with seasons of life as well?<br />
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We think that this time in our life should look a certain way, and then we are disappointed when it turns out differently.<br />
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We think God should have done a certain thing at a certain time, and try to make our life look the way we think it should.<br />
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And in the process, we miss out on the season that He has us in.<br />
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In Ecclesiastes 3:1, God promises that there is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.<br />
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We can trust Him to be good even in the seasons that we don’t want. We can trust that He is all-knowing and all-powerful, even when we would rather be in someone else’s season.<br />
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We can trust Him in the summer, winter, spring, and fall because of Jesus. Hebrews 4:15-16 says,<br />
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“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”<br />
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Jesus came to live among men. He knows what it is to be cold, and what it is to be hot. But more than that, He knows what it is to suffer, to be hungry, to hurt. And yet, He was without sin.<br />
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Because of Jesus, we can be joyful in the season we’re in. Not because it might be a good season disguised as a bad one. Not even necessarily because of what great things God might do because of this hard season (although He might).<br />
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We can be joyful because Jesus sympathizes with us in our weakness. And because He does, we have the promise of forgiveness of sins and eternal life with Him. We can draw near to Him in every season to receive grace and find mercy.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-37704474066406346602018-02-24T08:10:00.000-08:002018-02-24T08:16:51.205-08:00Waiting in Line.. For the Glory of GodI tapped my foot impatiently as I checked the time. Again. The line behind me was beginning to grumble impatiently as well. After waiting for two hours for the legal assessor to show up, I was all grumbled out.<br />
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I had been in this office the day before to submit my paperwork to annul my foreigner’s ID, and request a Bolivian ID. The day before, the man told me I was missing my marriage certificate, and a bank deposit of $2.50. “You can come back tomorrow.” He said. “I’ll be here from 7:00am – 3:00pm.”<br />
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So with that in mind, I had called Franco and asked him to meet me at the civil registry where we got married. I got on the bus to meet Franco, and mentally chided myself. I just requested this same form three days ago, and turned it in when I requested my Bolivian birth certificate. I should have asked for two…just in case.<br />
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When I arrived at the civil registry, I checked the time again. They should have opened at 3:00, but at 3:10 there was still a line outside of the closed door. I took my place in line, and waited. Soon, the notary arrived and warned the crowd that there were no birth certificates available today. Several people grumbled and left. I confirmed, “But there are marriage certificates?” She assured me there were.<br />
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As I waited inside, I watched as the notary ran back and forth between the internet router and her computer. After about 30 minutes she announced that there was no internet, and that we would need to return in the morning at 8:30.<br />
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A little discouraged, Franco and I got a bus back home and made a plan. We would go early in the morning to get the marriage certificate, then to the bank, and then back to Segip (the government office) to turn in all of the paperwork.<br />
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The next morning we got a bus back into the city and arrived at the civil registry at 8:28. Two minutes early! We took our place in line, and waited. And waited. At 9:05, the doors were opened, and the line became a mob. Not wanting to experience personal injury, we became the last in line. When it was finally our turn, a family rushed in needing a death certificate for their father. They needed it urgently so that they could take his body to the funeral home. How can you say no to that??<br />
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Thirty minutes later it was our turn again, and another bereaved man urgently needed a death certificate. But this time, after seeing how long it took, I became assertive. “I’m sorry, but we have been waiting since 8:30. It will only take 5 minutes.” The man was not happy, but the notary felt sorry for us at this point, and let us go.<br />
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At 11:05, we walked out of the office with our marriage certificate in hand! We rushed to the bank, and waited in line for our number to be called. When it was my turn, I told the teller that I needed to make a deposit to Segip for 17 bolivianos. ($2.50) He was very confused, because I was a foreigner, and foreigners have to pay more. I managed to convince him I knew what I was doing (kind of), and walked out with my receipts.<br />
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At this point, it was almost 11:30, and we decided to rush to Segip to make sure we had time to submit my documents and take my fingerprints before they closed. When we arrived, the legal assessor's door was closed. We asked the secretary, and she instructed us to take a seat. “He should be back in an hour… give or take.” I wanted to cry. An hour? What happened to “I’ll be here from 7:00- 3:00?!”<br />
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We decided to eat lunch and come back. When we came back, after an hour, the door was still closed. So we sat and waited. And waited. I began to think of all the things I could have done with the last two hours. I began to list all of the things wrong with the system. How unjust it was. The line began to grow behind us, and after 45 minutes the line was restless. A lady walked by with a nametag, and an older man in line asked when the legal assessor would be in. She replied, “Oh, I don’t think he’s coming back today. He had to go to court.” The line erupted in complaints. I wanted to cry again. The line continued to complain, and we walked away. With smoke coming out of my ears.<br />
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I was so angry that we had wasted so much time. Almost an entire day wasted waiting in lines. I questioned the system. Why did no one seem to be able to do their job? Was it actually their fault, or was it the way things were set up? What if people did their jobs to the best of their ability? What if people did their jobs for the glory of God?<br />
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And then I felt the conviction in my heart that comes from the Holy Spirit. What about me? Am I waiting in lines for the glory of God? Not very well. I tend to see waiting in line as a waste of my time. A distraction from things that are actually important.<br />
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How different would my waiting be if I saw it as an opportunity to talk to the people in line with me? To show meekness and humility and patience? To not grumble? How would God be glorified in that?<br />
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So although I’m hopeful that the waiting in lines and paperwork necessary to become a Bolivian citizen are almost over, I know that my days of waiting in lines are not. This is Bolivia – there will always be lines (or at least mobs of people) waiting for something. My prayer is that the Lord would teach me to glorify Him in the mundane things like waiting in lines. And may He continue to show you and I areas of our lives that He wants to work in. For His glory, and our good.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-2267555860146460852018-02-13T12:55:00.001-08:002018-02-13T13:16:17.344-08:00Have You Ever?Have you ever seen someone pour beer on their car? Sprinkle beer around their house? Shoot innocent strangers with a water gun from their car? Burn fake money and incense in charcoal on their sidewalk? Come to Cochabamba today and you can!<br />
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Today is a holiday known in Bolivia as Martes de Challa. On the Tuesday following Carnaval (Mardi Gras) weekend, each family offers “sacrifice” to the PachaMama (the god of mother earth). Franco estimates that around 80% of families participate, and judging by the smoke in the air, he must be right. A charcoal fire is lit, and incense is burned. Street vendors also sell miniature items such as money, houses, cars, etc. that can be burned in the fire. The idea is that by burning these items, the PachaMama will bless you by giving you the things you burned. Sprinkling beer on your possessions is a way of blessing the items you already have. It is a dark time in Bolivia, and is a reminder of how many people around us are living without Jesus, in fear and superstition. I don’t have any pictures I took myself, because I didn’t think that would go over very well, but I borrowed some from google to give you an idea.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blessing of the bus</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miniature items to burn as sacrifice to Mother Earth - Pachamama</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The burning of the items</td></tr>
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<br />The entire weekend is considered a holiday in Bolivia, and many celebrate by drinking heavily. It is a dangerous weekend for many. This year it is estimated that over 20 people were killed in accidents related to the celebration of Carnaval. Being out in public can be dangerous even if you are not celebrating. Today on our way to the corner store we were sprayed by a stranger passing by with a water gun. Often though, the water guns are filled with other liquids that are more harmful and or smelly.</div>
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For this reason, our church puts on a camp for young adults during this weekend every year as an alternative to celebrating in the traditional ways. This year Franco was invited to teach! The camp was located about two hours outside of the city in the mountains – and it was cold! There were about 60 people from the church in all, and it was a great weekend.<br />
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Franco taught about Ephesians 5, imitating God by walking in love, light, wisdom and purity. I was able to spend time with some of the young girls from church, and enjoyed getting to know them better. Bolivian youth camps are MUCH different than any camp I ever went to. The idea of sleep is just that – an idea. I think I was the only one who slept more than 5 hours a night… I felt old! The games are also extreme. One game included eating 20 olives in as little time as possible. Another included team work- three people worked together to eat a raw onion, bell pepper, and tomato in as little time as possible. And the worst, two volunteers from each team were required to take off their (dirty) sock, place it over a bottle of water, and drink the water through the sock. I couldn’t (and wouldn’t!) have done it, but the boys didn’t seem to mind! It was an exhausting weekend, but it was a good time to spend with the youth of our church.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco teaching about God's will</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you imagine eating these raw in under two minutes???</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvRutSgHTg78DrBPuOM44nxA55l9VxKSCYg76vWTXCxHSreUuhs-WLJ11gm5qRfq4C9zyGwoUpn2Wvs3-qM7q4827R4KUIH3QMEg5zHo_12gGyaVkkU2snzvJhK6UefZUJDAV4-ww-kh2/s1600/27798185_1620328754727977_2423808260376612303_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYvRutSgHTg78DrBPuOM44nxA55l9VxKSCYg76vWTXCxHSreUuhs-WLJ11gm5qRfq4C9zyGwoUpn2Wvs3-qM7q4827R4KUIH3QMEg5zHo_12gGyaVkkU2snzvJhK6UefZUJDAV4-ww-kh2/s400/27798185_1620328754727977_2423808260376612303_o.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Time for lunch!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5Iao79q7eb2fTN1RKzSapYtj0FLkRvyKXbAjOvpv-yBbmjNVCIWhWY9c7oRDKIcQvqkUFMS6-L4_H2hwJoHtoBBNViFy2o4t8lIHsioHbQ7DVaqjF2LPKD8gfb8IZrGJrU0d3W9m-Gdm/s1600/27992904_1620327831394736_5349236197120437231_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE5Iao79q7eb2fTN1RKzSapYtj0FLkRvyKXbAjOvpv-yBbmjNVCIWhWY9c7oRDKIcQvqkUFMS6-L4_H2hwJoHtoBBNViFy2o4t8lIHsioHbQ7DVaqjF2LPKD8gfb8IZrGJrU0d3W9m-Gdm/s400/27992904_1620327831394736_5349236197120437231_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The power went out one night, so we had a nice candle light, fire hazard dinner.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mbWuMm-a0P8mnLiiy36T3_1ndowkv26B-jc8Dmf_6Zm3WoF3YyeAcmFGD42Yy4MvazoK0NhiYgnZ8xS3f-1pDdCcFwIwMYliziHmbJbcd4XrIirY68yx-vjEyiCar7nYSqz8Ng3hIjE2/s1600/28061630_1620326948061491_3525750735704084661_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mbWuMm-a0P8mnLiiy36T3_1ndowkv26B-jc8Dmf_6Zm3WoF3YyeAcmFGD42Yy4MvazoK0NhiYgnZ8xS3f-1pDdCcFwIwMYliziHmbJbcd4XrIirY68yx-vjEyiCar7nYSqz8Ng3hIjE2/s400/28061630_1620326948061491_3525750735704084661_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Worship Time - Franco is hiding behind the guitar</td></tr>
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When we made it back to Cochabamba around 9:30 last night, we discovered that there was flooding on the road to our house. You can see a short video here: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/sallen507/videos/10155679284064079/">https://www.facebook.com/sallen507/videos/10155679284064079/</a><br />
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None of the public transportation was working, and the taxi’s didn’t want to risk it either. Thankfully, friends from church generously took us to their house and let us stay with them. This morning we were able to get home safely. The roads are still a mess, and in many places it is filled with debris. We are very grateful that there was no flooding in our house. Water did get into the living room, but the rug was the only casualty.<br />
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We will be visiting some of the families tomorrow from Happy Hour that live in the more affected areas to see how we can help. Please be praying for those whose lives have been disrupted by the flooding. Please pray that the Lord would give us opportunities to love and serve those around us that have been affected, and that people might come to know Jesus through these floods.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-64326502251615321472018-01-16T14:32:00.000-08:002018-01-16T14:32:44.106-08:00SIX MONTHSGrieving is a strange thing. In some ways, it seems like it should be a very private and personal process. In other ways, it seems like it needs to be public and shared.<br />
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Public grief is a tricky thing though. Although I want to be open about how God is working in our lives, and what He is teaching us, I want to be careful in how I portray our grief.<br />
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I don’t want to ever pretend like grieving the loss of a child is easier than it is.<br />
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God is good. He is faithful. He has walked with us, comforted us, provided for us, and continually reminds us of who He is. But that hasn’t taken away the pain and the tears.<br />
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In the last six months I have found myself crying in food courts, walking through Hobby Lobby, during Christmas toasts, and on airplanes. I have walked out of baby dedications, wedding ceremonies, and restaurants. I have been angry, impatient, and bitter with people that didn’t deserve my frustration. So when I write about what God’s teaching me, I want to avoid appearing overly spiritual or optimistic, because that isn’t realistic.<br />
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I don’t want to write about all the hard things either, begging for sympathy or for my own praise.<br />
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There are a lot of tears and fits before I get to the lesson learned in the blog. Although it is therapeutic for me to write about what God’s teaching me, my desire is for God to be glorified in my weakness.<br />
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With that in mind, today would have been Ezekiel’s six month birthday. Before I was pregnant, I made fun of the monthly pictures that new moms would post. Let’s be honest, I still do. It’s just a little more somber now. I appreciate the concept of celebrating milestones, I just think it’s a little cheesy. (Sorry to anyone who does this…) While I was pregnant with Ezekiel, I told my sister, “I will never do that.”<br />
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And, I won’t. But I do wonder. What milestones would we have had? I see babies around me growing, and wonder what our son would be doing now. Would he be teething, rolling over, sitting up on his own, eating real food, sleeping through the night?<br />
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A few months ago, I was putting some of the baby clothes and things away, when I came across a gift from a sweet friend in Denton. It was a calligraphy print I was given the week before Ezekiel was born as a decoration for the nursery. It was kindly put away in the week following his burial, but it was uncovered as I was organizing.<br />
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It says, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” 3 John 1:4<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOQTFXkO8pSBaSaotowSAdRvF_jdA3nePWk-cNTCI9aZbQ0uo764fGOO5tPc_cVTymJ4XMrISP_wflCSEa6Hchpf2XRmKy2Jus7272BFbq6G2r1zfDJ7dmQEY3QzEoiCfpW2UpKAA8hw0/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1369" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIOQTFXkO8pSBaSaotowSAdRvF_jdA3nePWk-cNTCI9aZbQ0uo764fGOO5tPc_cVTymJ4XMrISP_wflCSEa6Hchpf2XRmKy2Jus7272BFbq6G2r1zfDJ7dmQEY3QzEoiCfpW2UpKAA8hw0/s320/FullSizeRender+%25284%2529.jpg" width="273" /></a></div>
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At first it seemed like a slap in the face. I felt my stomach sink, and the familiar burn of my eyes before the tears start. But then I felt the peace of the Lord reminding me of just how true that is. And although the tears still came, I smiled too.<br />
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I don’t know what milestone Ezekiel would have reached at six months, but he certainly wouldn’t be walking, and he definitely would not have a relationship with the Lord. I don’t know how things work in heaven, so who knows if he is walking, but he is definitely in the Truth, in the presence of our God. And I couldn’t ask for a joy greater than that. A bittersweet joy – yes. But joy nonetheless.<br />
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So today, at six months, I am taking time to grieve privately, and also publicly. The state is on civil strike today, so everything is closed. It would be easier to make the day busy and distract myself, but the Lord in His goodness forced me to rest today. I am reading through prayers and journals from the last six months to remember what God has done.<br />
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I have met many women over the last six months that know what it is to burry a child. And many more that have lost babies that were too small to burry. So I think it is important to share what God is teaching me so that He might be glorified through it.<br />
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Today I am thankful for the God that knows what it is to suffer. The God that knows what it is to give His son. The God that understands our suffering because He suffered. The God that is good in all He does. The God that on my hardest days, reminds me of His promises and truth. The God that shows His love through sacrificial love.<br />
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Thank you for sharing in our grief. Our prayer is that the Lord is His goodness and mercy would comfort you today with Himself. That you would trust Him with your questions, anger, bitterness, and impatience, knowing that He is good, even when life is hard.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-1376888722599745832018-01-08T15:12:00.001-08:002018-01-08T15:14:42.240-08:00Adventures in Shoe ShoppingThis weekend we were invited to a wedding for one of Franco's friends from Camiri. We quickly realized that we were going to need something a little nicer than our "Sunday best", since that usually involves our nicest jeans. :)<br />
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As we were contemplating how expensive this was going to be, Franco got a call from one of the elders at church. They just happened to have some suits they wanted to GIVE Franco! That afternoon we went, and it was as if the suit had been made for him. God's provision is so neat sometimes.<br />
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Then I went through my dresses (all three of them) and found one that would work... except that one of the straps was broken.<br />
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I decided it would have to do and brought it anyway. When we mentioned the dress to Franco's mom she suggested we go visit her friend, the seamstress.<br />
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The seamstress fixed the strap in five minutes and wouldn't let me pay!<br />
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SO, with money ($20) still in the budget, I went shoe shopping.<br />
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As I've mentioned before, shopping in Bolivia is never a relaxing endeavor. But, flip flops and tennis shoes are not appropriate wedding attire, so I was left with no alternatives.<br />
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We set out in the 90 degree heat to the market. When I found shoes I liked at the first stand, I was ready to buy them and be done. However, there were none available in my size... according to the lady who glanced confidently back at her pile of merchandise to confirm.<br />
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So we moved on. The next stand also had shoes that were less my style, but convenient and well priced. The young girl assured me she had them in my size, and came back with a different style of shoes, that yes, were in my size.<br />
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Feeling defeated, I followed my mother-in-law across the busy street. (The government is on strike since May and there are no police in town. Franco calls Camiri the Wild Wild West of Bolivia.)<br />
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Inside the market, we found a stand with a lady that Franco's mom seemed to know. She was very patient and showed me at least ten different shoes. I liked the first pair, but couldn't convince her to let me try them on. When I did, I realized they were sized differently because they are a Brazilian brand. So she brought me the next size.<br />
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OF A DIFFERENT STYLE.<br />
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They fit, but now they were a different style that I didn't like. So she brought the same style, in a different color. That didn't go with my dress. After about ten minutes of feeling like the biggest most demanding drama queen in Bolivia, the lady brought out a different pair of shoes, in a different color, that I DID like!<br />
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So now we both have nice clothes to wear to the wedding and a fun story to tell.<br />
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The moral of this story is "Buy your shoes at Ross and save yourself the trouble of international shoe shopping".<br />
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And that God provides, even in mundane things like dress clothes for a wedding. :)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxV5N-507r9_9WtwogdsAQ40xDwMcZkeqaSycIoE0VFysOSgoF8XoF_jnGJzMpXuBP1lEBcaN_cJHAGZMPUOiUMh1h1-IbIA-f7vbtksbGc17xWx5Es7DjKv2igewMTpc7Rm5SNkMDKa9-/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="832" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxV5N-507r9_9WtwogdsAQ40xDwMcZkeqaSycIoE0VFysOSgoF8XoF_jnGJzMpXuBP1lEBcaN_cJHAGZMPUOiUMh1h1-IbIA-f7vbtksbGc17xWx5Es7DjKv2igewMTpc7Rm5SNkMDKa9-/s400/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="260" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Of course the shoes don't appear in any of the photos....</td></tr>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-18637566374517792912017-12-21T08:08:00.003-08:002017-12-21T08:17:08.158-08:00~MERRY CHRISTMAS~<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Merry Christmas from Bolivia! The temperature has been in the 90's this last week, so it feels more like the 4th of July, but our decorations are up, and activities are in full swing! Here is a picture update of our last few weeks......</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsFFw5L4eqdk3QgHJMs0iVluidBVRa0JLJ-_s8X0Xly7l_9l0jFlROUQ7x1Lv1tJFLiNO3uVRgDS0GVt7UdQC_Ot9OL9_L1NQVJi1GKo-y1vuxaCH0aSHGo6gwF0hmsIF1rz8zj5oBagP/s1600/IMG_1665.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigsFFw5L4eqdk3QgHJMs0iVluidBVRa0JLJ-_s8X0Xly7l_9l0jFlROUQ7x1Lv1tJFLiNO3uVRgDS0GVt7UdQC_Ot9OL9_L1NQVJi1GKo-y1vuxaCH0aSHGo6gwF0hmsIF1rz8zj5oBagP/s640/IMG_1665.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the boys from Happy Hour- the first time his art work was put on a refrigerator.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Election Day on December 3rd. No cars are allowed on the streets so it was a peaceful day!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2NHdwWDJSuFtWxIc0TSULHXlnKxBS8Ldr8IKEqczaQrxt-_iu0HAJZKWbg5OlS24z9pG_HjAc_3-GOT4DH1ueeYY082K59NVs-ZOvAPcFtaTN0J19lM5lefGvT7BhRvIXo9fU8OaxKnh1/s1600/IMG_1695.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2NHdwWDJSuFtWxIc0TSULHXlnKxBS8Ldr8IKEqczaQrxt-_iu0HAJZKWbg5OlS24z9pG_HjAc_3-GOT4DH1ueeYY082K59NVs-ZOvAPcFtaTN0J19lM5lefGvT7BhRvIXo9fU8OaxKnh1/s640/IMG_1695.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas Shopping in the market for Happy Hour snacks<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKP74kDdBsNCPKrVSh0GiyNUUnMuDvkBiPyxAJs7cus_In3Ju5xhBPLCgd_Q6i6PiH86mTqYdLPQKAqdRLb47_3x4BA2dBM2vSmWxJadSjmkUR-QQL6h5wWhIZYzAJGc08bFHWVc7XWLT/s1600/IMG_1684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="163" data-original-width="640" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimKP74kDdBsNCPKrVSh0GiyNUUnMuDvkBiPyxAJs7cus_In3Ju5xhBPLCgd_Q6i6PiH86mTqYdLPQKAqdRLb47_3x4BA2dBM2vSmWxJadSjmkUR-QQL6h5wWhIZYzAJGc08bFHWVc7XWLT/s640/IMG_1684.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ride back from the market....SO MANY SNACKS!<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7qFmpNfYmsGyLdAmJo7rFGHtnY8Edb_jUMG6Sblildz6ySamaYwKdfmCROChXJqHx8WXuYoeArrkzKh9DVV_29iglCJROsGzbE0r-tfLr5ixnqVTePEbFbAvm8-_Ga7YrezCDdjx7siwl/s1600/IMG_1689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7qFmpNfYmsGyLdAmJo7rFGHtnY8Edb_jUMG6Sblildz6ySamaYwKdfmCROChXJqHx8WXuYoeArrkzKh9DVV_29iglCJROsGzbE0r-tfLr5ixnqVTePEbFbAvm8-_Ga7YrezCDdjx7siwl/s640/IMG_1689.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Gifts for the mom's and children!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-LWlRKhJTEozcgwDKgNiXf3WsjcGe30Ik2s0ZDlhtArWtwnh6WW6j6jSmrhwm3QNNHJXK-OfifqAkju8IP2dgJWKXvCC00gQy9qx7Xo1aBPjL03ycgzhlEUFwATRxmBA_gizBQ4UgzBq/s1600/DSC_1087.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1072" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI-LWlRKhJTEozcgwDKgNiXf3WsjcGe30Ik2s0ZDlhtArWtwnh6WW6j6jSmrhwm3QNNHJXK-OfifqAkju8IP2dgJWKXvCC00gQy9qx7Xo1aBPjL03ycgzhlEUFwATRxmBA_gizBQ4UgzBq/s640/DSC_1087.JPG" width="427" /></a><br />
The twins that needed premature formula are growing well!</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsccxAMPWvl71e0XBlBmuqsdksCkwfZGqi8AD20g1mPWhusMLoBWlGh5fYJ-58bdYeZH1TbWz_5v1yVqhhzHkc1PXzYzE4WVZUB16oCtgeMntvWwTtH3ODKaukGyT9sdTxSp_1fdALbzaP/s1600/DSC_1125.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsccxAMPWvl71e0XBlBmuqsdksCkwfZGqi8AD20g1mPWhusMLoBWlGh5fYJ-58bdYeZH1TbWz_5v1yVqhhzHkc1PXzYzE4WVZUB16oCtgeMntvWwTtH3ODKaukGyT9sdTxSp_1fdALbzaP/s640/DSC_1125.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Evelyn, the girl in pink, with her bible! (The green bag under her arm.)</td></tr>
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</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmMG0uG2IbYkDZ1O5dDzu9Z6fsZpSVH8R04itRHDkHjLrhWl5wqFJ7p71CPVEtXGLwD_74fRzwEzNbnsHH0-mlghAMUnISk8olsca-qb4aoI_gOKch6ZMLtrJqnnMJxmfTie8YUR2db51/s1600/DSC_1128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1600" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihmMG0uG2IbYkDZ1O5dDzu9Z6fsZpSVH8R04itRHDkHjLrhWl5wqFJ7p71CPVEtXGLwD_74fRzwEzNbnsHH0-mlghAMUnISk8olsca-qb4aoI_gOKch6ZMLtrJqnnMJxmfTie8YUR2db51/s640/DSC_1128.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Our three weekly/daily visitors! (Bible is in green bag on the left.)</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQuXVkBE7fiBvcnMjg_S3O2Y73WStArQ4Ol2tYEPxZExRwJTbu7Eh-rTGeQQIjXi03Ud4w0F431TVtaMbC-LzMjD0bengSujLEzj7R6MR5cPB2pAWazEsBVOEJTGU1F1oDT49Yfi9duHf/s1600/DSC_1136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1072" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAQuXVkBE7fiBvcnMjg_S3O2Y73WStArQ4Ol2tYEPxZExRwJTbu7Eh-rTGeQQIjXi03Ud4w0F431TVtaMbC-LzMjD0bengSujLEzj7R6MR5cPB2pAWazEsBVOEJTGU1F1oDT49Yfi9duHf/s640/DSC_1136.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">Our neighbors down the street!</td></tr>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
THANK YOU -THANK YOU- THANK YOU<br />
for giving to provide bibles and Christmas gifts for the families in our community.</div>
Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-54547059665908015812017-11-27T06:35:00.002-08:002017-11-27T08:19:43.246-08:00Life's Not Fair...And Other Lessons Learned on Public TransportationFriday afternoon, Franco and I needed to go into the city for a meeting at church. It was about the time of rush hour traffic, and as we climbed onto the bus, we quickly realized there were no available seats.<br />
<br />
Although I would always prefer a seat, I am perfectly capable of standing. I might have sighed just a little though as the 8 young men close to us remained seated. Chivalry in not a common virtue here.<br />
<br />
After a few minutes, a lady sitting on the bus engine got off the bus, and I sat down with the other three women sitting there. ( I couldn't find a good picture of a bus engine, but it is a box next to the driver. Actually I did, but the pictures of women hanging in the bus were not appropriate for this blog. It can function as a seat, and also a seat warmer. Great on a cold day, not so great in 90 degree weather.) As I was enjoying my relative comfort, an elderly woman struggled to climb up the steps of the bus. She paid her fare, and looked in vain for a seat. When she realized that all the seats were full, she reached for the rail, and remained standing.<br />
<br />
I looked around, shocked, but not really, as all of the young men around us pretended they didn’t see her. Even though chivalry is not common, respect for the elderly generally is.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepGZWnC2ABbUMnOZLoPlpGluFrWDwbxha21WXqdxkHFT7rRKsYfjbtMXB_0JN_TG3e_VWpPulYuLC4PsQuCsUE0pl2rIOpOW0xVfBIHc-8Z7Ve9iVJSFxaBs9PXz392pEAWNSTmp0eCPn/s1600/meme.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="499" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepGZWnC2ABbUMnOZLoPlpGluFrWDwbxha21WXqdxkHFT7rRKsYfjbtMXB_0JN_TG3e_VWpPulYuLC4PsQuCsUE0pl2rIOpOW0xVfBIHc-8Z7Ve9iVJSFxaBs9PXz392pEAWNSTmp0eCPn/s320/meme.png" width="316" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Translation: <br />
Woman: It seems like there are no gentlemen anymore.<br />
Man: There are gentlemen, the problem is a lack of seats....</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I counted to ten, sure that one of the men around us would offer her a spot. I didn’t mind offering her mine, but it was on the bus engine, so it wasn’t ideal. Finally, when I realized that no offer was coming, I stood up and offered her my less than accommodating spot. (Not out of selfless-ness or joy, but out of frustration with the people around me.)<br />
<br />
I wedged myself into a corner holding onto the rail, and Franco told me in English, “It isn’t fair.” I agreed. But then I started to think about my mom’s response to that complaint when I was younger.<br />
<br />
“Life is not fair.”<br />
<br />
It’s so true. And I think it is a lesson that we will probably never stop learning.<br />
<br />
And for Christians, especially, I think fairness is a difficult thing to get our minds around.<br />
<br />
We believe in, and serve a just God. A God that hates evil. A God that is good. A God that is gracious. A God that is merciful. And while all of those things are true, they can be hard to squeeze into our idea of a God that we can understand.<br />
<br />
I have struggled with God’s fairness over the last few months. I have talked with women that had absolutely no prenatal care, and they have healthy babies. I have talked with women as they pour a mixture of cornstarch and water into their baby’s bottle, because they can’t afford milk. I have welcomed children into our home for lunch, because their mom left them without food for the day.<br />
<br />
And in my pride, and desire for control, I don’t like that I did everything I knew how to do and my son still didn’t live. It doesn’t seem fair.<br />
<br />
But then I think about Jesus. Jesus did everything right. He lived a perfect, sinless life, and was stilled killed. Brutally, and unfairly.<br />
<br />
Because God is just, but He is also gracious and merciful.<br />
<br />
And although I feel like my son's death is tragic, it really is not tragic that he was spared all of the pain of this world to be with Jesus. It is gracious and merciful.<br />
<br />
This morning, I read a passage in Ephesians 3:14-19. It has always been one of my favorites, but this morning as I read, the Lord showed me something different.<br />
<br />
“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be STRENGTHENED with power through HIS Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts though faith-that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have STRENGTH to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with the fullness of God.”<br />
<br />
Apart from being the longest run on sentence in the bible, the idea of being strengthened in order to know God’s love had never occurred to me before. The more I learn about God’s character and suffering, the more I am realizing that being strengthened by the Spirit is NECESSARY in order to even try to understand God’s love.<br />
<br />
It is so wide, so long, so deep, so high, that of course it doesn’t make sense to me. It often doesn’t look fair. It doesn’t look like my idea of what love should be. It doesn’t in my life, or probably your life, and definitely didn’t as Christ suffered on the cross.<br />
<br />
Because God is just, but He is also gracious and merciful.<br />
<br />
God’s love surpasses knowledge. God’s love can’t be understood apart from the strengthening of the Spirit.<br />
<br />
May our suffering and the strengthening of the Spirit allow us to be filled with the fullness of God.<br />
<br />
Because God is just, but He is also gracious and merciful. Even when life is not fair.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-66646608026102932382017-10-15T18:08:00.001-07:002017-10-15T18:15:28.898-07:00Work and Play! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The last week has been such an encouragement with my parent's visiting!<br />
<br />
We have been very productive with my citizenship papers, diagnosed/ survived a full septic tank, substituted at Carachipampa, went to an 80 year old lady's birthday party, visited a famous rich women's house, helped with Happy Hour, and much more.<br />
<br />
The kids at Happy Hour love seeing new faces, and they especially love my parent's Fitbit watches. One of the little boys asked to "borrow" my mom's watch... she politely declined.<br />
<br />
Here are a few pictures from the last few weeks:<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6y0RE61BPSmoByZ1i7HFNwrI1NN-rbwn2WnpUdfIGCIFNsZMDS9nFoZg2Gnkwx0ImqW-ZXIafFIrFCmhUQanhi-YbNZvA3_UAYGYpvaFp19sejRs04R_TkuDY0HJRWA0Rys0ACsE9TIS/s1600/IMG_3449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb6y0RE61BPSmoByZ1i7HFNwrI1NN-rbwn2WnpUdfIGCIFNsZMDS9nFoZg2Gnkwx0ImqW-ZXIafFIrFCmhUQanhi-YbNZvA3_UAYGYpvaFp19sejRs04R_TkuDY0HJRWA0Rys0ACsE9TIS/s400/IMG_3449.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting a park similar to the Arboretum</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUkA210jkHn5lsQ-fRQpWSEZA9kILCHx_RhpfrC6d6NTIqgZhyLscnT67ENkq9xRJ1kM-vGdLY4UNX_uh_H1gquvKRuoA-LYF2cSSrN1dZL3sPwnj_7edDTP2wgmhsF7ttmKNK2E2Sl2G/s1600/IMG_3463.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXUkA210jkHn5lsQ-fRQpWSEZA9kILCHx_RhpfrC6d6NTIqgZhyLscnT67ENkq9xRJ1kM-vGdLY4UNX_uh_H1gquvKRuoA-LYF2cSSrN1dZL3sPwnj_7edDTP2wgmhsF7ttmKNK2E2Sl2G/s400/IMG_3463.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The famous rich woman's house!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVf8MktCK6SQn75aFzlyauDH2coiDwbgRjikT5wt49T9y3V8jAJFHFLa-1wJS0Bybg19jTXElOI1T2l8WdFJNuYJOXxNy4kAG6w8JRr-oPg5w8p8Uyjc6LvGYmnq9hH-0FZN5zUmZctDS/s1600/IMG_3483.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGVf8MktCK6SQn75aFzlyauDH2coiDwbgRjikT5wt49T9y3V8jAJFHFLa-1wJS0Bybg19jTXElOI1T2l8WdFJNuYJOXxNy4kAG6w8JRr-oPg5w8p8Uyjc6LvGYmnq9hH-0FZN5zUmZctDS/s400/IMG_3483.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A spider in the Carachipampa science room. We have spiders ALMOST this big in our house!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuxyXpSj5ggkNHLlj5Eg8qqE2utDw3sdG1zAS_T6BjfOd230ICaxx_52wDJUe33IBxaA4ZktlcgISmIsTwsi12B0VFZsn5wUZyETe2cddgrPGX19Ds_9_YQbTo8pAe3eV2Jv0hgn6YnNY/s1600/IMG_3495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjuxyXpSj5ggkNHLlj5Eg8qqE2utDw3sdG1zAS_T6BjfOd230ICaxx_52wDJUe33IBxaA4ZktlcgISmIsTwsi12B0VFZsn5wUZyETe2cddgrPGX19Ds_9_YQbTo8pAe3eV2Jv0hgn6YnNY/s400/IMG_3495.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two sweet (my favorite) kids racing to put on their "spiritual clothes".</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyX05ehX9EaTAkbO1AEGAFbRgSiuJCIFlpGKLfSdtZPfVrHeHnUlhFUu2iwi8UEpFbPptUehwVuF51s-m_qp7lAQAxI_rAcjuWT5T8U0YzBrqYwrth0fUA5rCUtCbMO9G2knwK2R7RSwg/s1600/IMG_3489.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyX05ehX9EaTAkbO1AEGAFbRgSiuJCIFlpGKLfSdtZPfVrHeHnUlhFUu2iwi8UEpFbPptUehwVuF51s-m_qp7lAQAxI_rAcjuWT5T8U0YzBrqYwrth0fUA5rCUtCbMO9G2knwK2R7RSwg/s400/IMG_3489.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Wise Man Built His House Upon the Rock -Performed by the four rambunctious boys in the back</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmV6gAxiIE0r7G8D_jgJJYDbGhlIRzR8s7EnokuTJifjOHwMo-vrYO2spCubPjEdq7P8b6dEDzFKy_CG7Ed85MOf-evR0FfBZ7K5xKCMKKWRWN8T_bT34riZ66SZs9N0fMw6juGat5P39W/s1600/IMG_3493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmV6gAxiIE0r7G8D_jgJJYDbGhlIRzR8s7EnokuTJifjOHwMo-vrYO2spCubPjEdq7P8b6dEDzFKy_CG7Ed85MOf-evR0FfBZ7K5xKCMKKWRWN8T_bT34riZ66SZs9N0fMw6juGat5P39W/s400/IMG_3493.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We played dress up to remember the spiritual clothes from Colossians 3:12</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8saSJe5gVhkfMX8kGQsCtExuMhpXHo7HwfXtrF0RF_SmgYm05ufiWuuPbC3TV2w4IVec40gc9WJHgIauea3efRK4GiEl3SoD8qMPGunNu_RpquGSXQ_Og67ZhhDP0XOaQi2DujKwELO5U/s1600/IMG_3494.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8saSJe5gVhkfMX8kGQsCtExuMhpXHo7HwfXtrF0RF_SmgYm05ufiWuuPbC3TV2w4IVec40gc9WJHgIauea3efRK4GiEl3SoD8qMPGunNu_RpquGSXQ_Og67ZhhDP0XOaQi2DujKwELO5U/s400/IMG_3494.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All dressed up in: Patience, Kindess, Gentleness, Humility</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAMCEMio9iXN3KzewvEDl5gBX2op3GVHBXaGF0VGLhWfoziQ10T3PXtYBEE-y_Cgd624I3Fx1RrVpczF8sekaZnyl9zR6keDtIeJodZu_a2Z-ERf68GjIhZY0s7umKQpEAU8AtJvQBUIq/s1600/IMG_3441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXAMCEMio9iXN3KzewvEDl5gBX2op3GVHBXaGF0VGLhWfoziQ10T3PXtYBEE-y_Cgd624I3Fx1RrVpczF8sekaZnyl9zR6keDtIeJodZu_a2Z-ERf68GjIhZY0s7umKQpEAU8AtJvQBUIq/s400/IMG_3441.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Two weeks ago we talked about water, and how God provides.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkaogEBLIcERHpWZTwrlr3VdNQ27pJeJX5StEmyTVVLRXy82Msscs-oNcZsVP3ZaM9eQS_gKVrtw3jI6MrBukzruUrHyKqHl_BlZVT6e9ors6z8Dvu0_2YcoDy8rrALu7XR4iCr70VYMq/s1600/IMG_3440.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkaogEBLIcERHpWZTwrlr3VdNQ27pJeJX5StEmyTVVLRXy82Msscs-oNcZsVP3ZaM9eQS_gKVrtw3jI6MrBukzruUrHyKqHl_BlZVT6e9ors6z8Dvu0_2YcoDy8rrALu7XR4iCr70VYMq/s400/IMG_3440.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The oldest twins! We have four sets of twin at Happy Hour!<br />
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</tbody></table>
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<br />Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-48890294795584769202017-09-12T15:15:00.002-07:002017-09-12T15:15:27.706-07:00A Confession & RequestThis Saturday was my first Saturday to teach again at Happy Hour. I have had a hard time going back, because there are SO many moms, and SO many little babies. It can be overwhelming at times, and to be really honest, it can be tempting to allow my mind and heart to travel, and to be resentful. I think that’s normal, but I also think it can be dangerous. My prayer is that the Lord would not allow me to be bitter, but to love the children and mothers that He has put in my life. Please be praying for that if you think about it!<br />
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This Saturday, as we were waiting for children to arrive, one of the little girls proudly showed me her children’s Bible, and asked me to read the story of Adam and Eve. I started to read the story, and a small group of other children gathered around. As I read, I was shocked at how un-biblical this children’s bible was. It was a cute little story about Adam and Eve eating the forbidden fruit, but completely missed the point of the story. The fact that Adam and Eve’s disobedience caused sin to enter the world, and the need for a savior – Jesus.<br />
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When I finished the story, another girl asked me if I had a Bible she could have. I asked if she had one at home, and she said she asked for one for her birthday, but her mom couldn’t afford it.<br />
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I began to think about how spoiled we are by the resources available at good prices in the US and realized that the variety of children’s Bibles in Bolivia is scarce.<br />
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One of my favorite children’s Bibles is called the Jesus Storybook Bible. It has beautiful illustrations, but more importantly, every story points to Jesus. I have a copy that I use to teach, and I love to see how Adam and Eve, Noah’s Ark, and the Walls of Jericho falling down all point to our need for Jesus.<br />
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I have found a site online that sells this Bible in cases of 20 for $179 with FREE shipping! That comes out to $8.95 a Bible! I would love to purchase a case of Bibles for my parents to bring down in October, and give them to children that come consistently for Christmas.<br />
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Would you consider donating $10-$20 dollars (or more :) ) to provide a family with a gospel-centered children’s Bible? Many of the parents have little education, and a children’s Bible is a perfect way for them to also have a clear explication of the gospel in a way they can read and understand.<br />
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To read more about the Jesus Storybook Bible, click <a href="http://www.biblesbythecase.com/9780829763324.html" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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To make a tax-deductible donation through our mission organization, you can click <a href="http://cten.org/missionary/danyellegraves/" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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To make a non-tax deductible donation through check, you can send a check to my parent’s house – just send me a message and I will send you the address. :)<br />
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Thank you so very much!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRJflXCMBKLk1mUdxa2SuMLf8YqIXKnkjlZWzq362kZew8N4zBmhfDmVBjlCrdVhCdvMeXvSR12H4N8pIN6nAsfq1s-uBmF-pVmNZv425ETkp4sm9jIkO-pqcIC0jPkhuvPPl9ULSQA9G/s1600/IMG_0523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRJflXCMBKLk1mUdxa2SuMLf8YqIXKnkjlZWzq362kZew8N4zBmhfDmVBjlCrdVhCdvMeXvSR12H4N8pIN6nAsfq1s-uBmF-pVmNZv425ETkp4sm9jIkO-pqcIC0jPkhuvPPl9ULSQA9G/s400/IMG_0523.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teddy hard at work coloring! We learned that God is love, and that he can fix our sinful hearts. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They loved their "dolls". Thank you Susanne! None of the kids had ever seen googly eyes before.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAleg8m2c4-UOYFCENTrUL_6iuxFEe0j_ZMGPGLjt8RGfAcOBR_pCZrdMLOyuSNIcII-zJ6Avwrz6_BqdveFkAhwUEPfc_7AtMsiOQxs4i8e55tW8TO1HU0Ve6AGZEFg0P7GlrVCTNKrxS/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAleg8m2c4-UOYFCENTrUL_6iuxFEe0j_ZMGPGLjt8RGfAcOBR_pCZrdMLOyuSNIcII-zJ6Avwrz6_BqdveFkAhwUEPfc_7AtMsiOQxs4i8e55tW8TO1HU0Ve6AGZEFg0P7GlrVCTNKrxS/s400/IMG_0526.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My 2-6 year old class at Happy Hour.</td></tr>
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-8853179695323928942017-08-27T14:34:00.001-07:002017-08-30T15:31:44.976-07:00How are you doing? Many people have asked in the last few weeks how we are doing, and we are SO thankful for your prayers and your willingness to grieve with us. It is a hard question to answer, because we want to be honest, but there just isn't a good answer without writing a short novel.<br />
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So that's what I did. Just kidding, kind of. :) There are moments that are harder than I could have imagined. I heard a quote that says, "We expect faith to make it hurt less, but it doesn't. It keeps us from despair, but it doesn't take the pain away."<br />
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But, while grieving the loss of our son has been much harder than I expected, God's presence has also been much sweeter than I could have expected. He has provided through many of you, but most of all, He has provided Himself. And we are finding Him to be enough.<br />
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I wanted to share with you a little of what He has been teaching me in the last few weeks, and I hope it is encouraging to you as well.<br />
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I have been reading a book by Nancy Guthrie, called “Hearing Jesus Speak into your Sorrow”. This book (and her other books) have been so helpful to me over the last few weeks, and I highly recommend them for anyone who is wrestling with God’s goodness in the midst of hard things.<br />
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In this book, she talks about the story in Mark 1:40-42. A man with leprosy comes to Jesus, and says, “If you will, you can make me clean.” Then it says-moved with pity, Jesus touched him and said, “I will, be clean.”<br />
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As beautiful as this is for the leper in the story, it becomes problematic when I suffer. Why was Jesus not moved by pity for my son? For me? For my husband? My friends and family? I KNOW He was able. Why was He not willing?<br />
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But then Jesus in His mercy reminds me that He did not come primarily to heal our bodies, but our sinful hearts. If the question is “Jesus, if you will, you can make me clean from sin.” - His answer is always, I am willing, be clean.”<br />
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He was so willing in fact, that it says in Isaiah 53:5 that He was pierced for our transgression, crushed for our iniquities. He took the chastisement that brought us peace. By His wounds we are healed.<br />
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When I see my sin for what it is, I can rejoice in what Jesus was willing to do. But too often, I see my sin as a sniffle. A cold that will most likely go away if I wait long enough.<br />
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But my sin is leprosy. A deadly, infectious disease, that not only doesn’t go away on its own, it will kill me. It had no cure. But Jesus, because He was willing, became that cure, and died in my place to forgive my sin.<br />
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I have no problem with a good God, a loving Father, allowing Jesus to suffer on the cross. Jesus being God, did not count equality with God something to be grasped, but emptied Himself, became a servant, and was obedient to the point of death. Death on a cross. For me.<br />
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And yet, when I suffer, I have a problem with a good God, a loving Father, allowing me to suffer. I want to remind God of His promises. In Revelation 21:4 it says that He will wipe away every tear. Death shall be no more. There will be no more mourning, crying, or pain.<br />
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And these promises are true. But they are future promises. God WILL fulfill His promises. But they are for the coming age. Not for now. For now, Jesus promised that we WOULD have sorrows. That we would suffer. But He also promised to be with us through the Holy Spirit. So I can rest in the future promise, but I can’t demand those promises now.<br />
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Jesus came to destroy the root of death, sorrow, mourning, pain, and tears. He came to destroy sin. But for now, we live in the in-between. The already, but not yet.<br />
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Jesus <i><b>was</b></i> willing to heal my son from sin. He healed his little body as well. Not in a second best, or incomplete way, but entirely. He is whole and with Jesus.<br />
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Too often I want God’s promise for complete healing now. I expect what God has only promised in the coming age – right now. God’s purpose is not to rid my life of pain, but of sin.<br />
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In Luke 15:11-16, the prodigal son says to his father, “Father, give me the share of property that is coming to me.” In our impatience, we want the inheritance that God has promised for eternity - on earthly terms. We desire physical healing and the absence of sorrow, more than we desire our Father’s presence in our lives.<br />
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And sometimes the Lord, in mercy and grace, gives us healing, and keeps us from sorrow. Praise God for that. It is a good gift. But may we not squander that gift by pridefully leaving our Father.<br />
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May we instead draw near to our good Father, that longs to give us good gifts. Both in this age, and the age to come. May we rejoice in our salvation, the willingness of our Father to forgive sin, and make us clean. May we trust Him, knowing that one day, He will make all things new.<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-74187970265638300562017-05-08T19:51:00.003-07:002017-05-08T19:51:54.571-07:00It's a.......<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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In the last three years in Bolivia, I can count on one (maybe two) hands, the number of clothes I have purchased here. And 50% of these purchases were related to my brief time teaching PE. Sweatpants. Friends and family have been very generous to send/bring maternity clothes, so even that I haven’t had to buy! </div>
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However, in the last few weeks, I have started to buy baby clothes! Partly, I’m just so excited about cute baby clothes that I couldn’t wait to get started. But mostly, it is because of how time consuming clothes shopping is here. I really can’t complain, Cochabamba has SO many options. However, new baby clothes imported from the US are expensive, and the best option seems to be the used clothes section of the market!<br />
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I have posted a video <b><i><u><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjuOqCrSZto&feature=youtu.be" target="_blank">here</a> (If you're short on time skip to 1:30 to see the actual clothes shopping.)</u></i></b> from a family in Cochabamba on a clothes shopping trip, but it is generally like a big garage sale. In the market, there are several areas that have blocks of clothing. Each store has a variety of clothes set up like a garage sale in the US. Sometimes there is a great selection of good quality and good prices, and sometimes not. Most of the time, baby clothes cost around $1.50 each, but occasionally there are baskets of clothes for $0.75! Last week, I also found a tomato in this bargain basket- surprise!<br />
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Anyway, since the market requires a good 45 minutes by bus, some uphill walking, and lots of patience sorting through clothes, I am trying to finish as much as possible before it’s too late. BUT, if you happen to have extra baby boy clothes lying around, my sister is coming to visit in JUNE, and she has lots of space in her suitcase. She would love to bring baby clothes with her…right Autumn? <br />
Enjoy a virtual shopping trip through picture! ( These are other people's pictures for the most part.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First, we catch the big yellow "Q" bus to the bus terminal at the market.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The streets around the bus terminal are crowded, so we wind our way through traffic. <br />(This is why the pictures are borrowed from google, pick-pocketing is very common in the crowds.)</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A few blocks into the market, there are tons of vendors with delicious fruits and vegetables.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are also some not so nice corners...especially when the trash service is on strike....</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And finally the clothes section....let the treasure hunt begin!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The treasure washed and drying in the "dryer"!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">IT"S A BOY!</td></tr>
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-8567570819624430882017-04-17T14:50:00.000-07:002017-04-17T14:50:52.626-07:00Children's Day & Easter CelebrationsI have heard many time that Bolivia has more holidays than normal days. It seems like every week we have a reason to celebrate - partly because everyone gets their own day! Most recently we have celebrated:<br />
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-New Years<br />
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-Bolivian New Years</div>
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-Anniversary of the new name of Bolivia</div>
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- Valentines Day</div>
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-Carnival (Mardi Gras)</div>
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-Father's Day</div>
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-Day of the Sea</div>
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-Pedestrian Day #1 (of four)</div>
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-Children's Day</div>
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-Good Friday</div>
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-Easter</div>
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This might be a SLIGHT exaggeration, but by the time you throw in birthdays and protests in the road, we have a LOT of holidays. </div>
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However, Easter in Bolivia is very different from my idea of Easter. Because the catholic church in Bolivia has mixed many indigenous and superstitious customs, the evangelical church typically avoids anything related to the catholic church. Unfortunately, that means egg hunts/ baskets/ and Easter chocolates are rare. Confetti eggs are unheard of, and my Easter lunch consisted of ham and cheese sandwiches. ( We did talk about the resurrection at church though, so really I just miss the shallow parts of Easter. :) ) </div>
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Fortunately, Children's Day this year happened to fall close to Easter, so we had a good excuse to celebrate with the kids at Happy Hour and church.</div>
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On Friday the church hosted an excursion day at a local park, and we were able to spend the day with good friends. Several families gave testimony to how God is working in their lives. It is exciting to see how God is working in and through the local church.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1It70DegUGGhgX4deqY-TyLmmufOoUUrt8Y5fOS-MqPFLKv-Fs3w7pHaxXvk-HKJgl-1cGgK6zOYEJu8CiZmpvOdi3ZbtQ4EnbRL6rq1iQRqlGtp_ApYgYBQFuWUhYPktucue3AW_puRN/s1600/17991446_1326209220806600_4928807402804979680_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1It70DegUGGhgX4deqY-TyLmmufOoUUrt8Y5fOS-MqPFLKv-Fs3w7pHaxXvk-HKJgl-1cGgK6zOYEJu8CiZmpvOdi3ZbtQ4EnbRL6rq1iQRqlGtp_ApYgYBQFuWUhYPktucue3AW_puRN/s640/17991446_1326209220806600_4928807402804979680_o.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The testimony of a family that has been at the church for the last year, sharing about how God has changed their family since accepting Christ.<br /><br /></td></tr>
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On Saturday at Happy Hour, a group of teenagers from the church came and put on a puppet show about prayer and obedience. I never did get a good count, but we served about 120 pieces of cake at the end!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9u9s8tG9aAyNJ5UN7mC-G6RV0gZV0egJOVKgN6Yf19fbCe12ufjUTrdpUZHtuQXiR1SA3KmAuCBrzTLuo7yAs1QsBsNiUtaot_YkK8-lZMAe8YHxRed3ER-RPDafv10bjFgQjtB5QyqB/s1600/DSCN0921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy9u9s8tG9aAyNJ5UN7mC-G6RV0gZV0egJOVKgN6Yf19fbCe12ufjUTrdpUZHtuQXiR1SA3KmAuCBrzTLuo7yAs1QsBsNiUtaot_YkK8-lZMAe8YHxRed3ER-RPDafv10bjFgQjtB5QyqB/s640/DSCN0921.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco representing the Cowboys. :)<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nzxe2cI3xAaEeI73btZJifa3Zor-DJI5Bf4M5MVc6UQ3qwb2c-0tPZxNnNeeY8iqz2WHzauZ0r6ycaPHe169m2BCelX0sWldL5-VlBklUffzwO8eSNpX1_Aes-WhxUay5neCFLsJPdEb/s1600/DSCN0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4nzxe2cI3xAaEeI73btZJifa3Zor-DJI5Bf4M5MVc6UQ3qwb2c-0tPZxNnNeeY8iqz2WHzauZ0r6ycaPHe169m2BCelX0sWldL5-VlBklUffzwO8eSNpX1_Aes-WhxUay5neCFLsJPdEb/s640/DSCN0915.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Someone was more interested in the camera than the puppet show.....</td></tr>
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On Sunday at church, the same group of teenagers performed for all of the children in Sunday School, and we helped with crowd control and passing out the snacks. (My favorite!) We also celebrated Easter with baptisms after the service, and 16 people from the church were baptized!<br />
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Overall, it was a great Easter weekend. We are thankful for Jesus' death and resurrection, and for one more reason to celebrate! </div>
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-46960416149832147652017-03-08T17:36:00.001-08:002017-03-08T17:36:54.221-08:00Let Happy Hour Begin!Happy Hour is about to begin again! <div>
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For the last two months Happy Hour, the weekly neighborhood Bible club has been on vacation. During the Bolivian Summer break, many of the children visit family in other parts of Bolivia, and attendance decreases. Since school is now back in session, we will be starting to meet again with the children and family that live in the neighborhood.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCj08fTE_upt9ft-yZnCSlCfipgJcObaOqdK4ouJ-I85VRfckFfCJAFtBUuJqNkkpsImy6YrXD29b7TEOpg604CNTRdVCIoxrQvIA_ulmqXVuW1yVUV9654YrY3jQZI80gVEvFggkYRnU/s1600/17198443_1348375178518329_321522588_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBCj08fTE_upt9ft-yZnCSlCfipgJcObaOqdK4ouJ-I85VRfckFfCJAFtBUuJqNkkpsImy6YrXD29b7TEOpg604CNTRdVCIoxrQvIA_ulmqXVuW1yVUV9654YrY3jQZI80gVEvFggkYRnU/s400/17198443_1348375178518329_321522588_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3-5 Year Old Class</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLEGCLacnkz5SL8zwzmST7HZ0PEk55OfL08SlChVT-TZIcCCGWVZIt4NJ9pSIno9Ds-Te0mIV5-98-qeBWgwBPKRHRBoS2QX0wZPQzQHDkW_BOev8MOjnSUwX8VNkkrV4NgOYmDmQxIrB/s1600/17198239_1348375085185005_1443589060_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCLEGCLacnkz5SL8zwzmST7HZ0PEk55OfL08SlChVT-TZIcCCGWVZIt4NJ9pSIno9Ds-Te0mIV5-98-qeBWgwBPKRHRBoS2QX0wZPQzQHDkW_BOev8MOjnSUwX8VNkkrV4NgOYmDmQxIrB/s400/17198239_1348375085185005_1443589060_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Singing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5RO6QSiZZWUbx_ScprVM7p6aSdjcWCbrfSBm6VfEKz7HwaLTo60NUfa__J6ZfzFi3x2H-f0gK5dcCeejVWP-F8PHXsiGE7hB7THDf_T740MMSKQ9ZesrS6meBvUiJoIuFtmVl8uMPwFe/s1600/12821571_10206002608810520_6999539910554848265_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju5RO6QSiZZWUbx_ScprVM7p6aSdjcWCbrfSBm6VfEKz7HwaLTo60NUfa__J6ZfzFi3x2H-f0gK5dcCeejVWP-F8PHXsiGE7hB7THDf_T740MMSKQ9ZesrS6meBvUiJoIuFtmVl8uMPwFe/s400/12821571_10206002608810520_6999539910554848265_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Playing outside with the kids before classes start</td></tr>
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Often as we walk to the road to take a bus into the city, or to the store on the corner we see families that come to Happy Hour and get to visit with them. </div>
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We have also gotten to continue to studying the Bible with Jasmine (name changed for privacy). This week we will be celebrating her 16th birthday with her favorite food Pique Macho, a classic Bolivian dish. (Ill try out my new Bolivian Cookbook....) Jasmine lives with her sister down the street from us, and her parents work in a small town about 3 hours away. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKoq-9GRLUGdUiRDz2SgTuibtxc-6ykA77Qha3jU58fkM8vWq7OxckbUeiNFEH77wL2byeJ2TvW1xlWZ6sjtecK1efw6aD408aN_RbA3tN6k9jdqINC74qtfC1dkAi4Yyu1JuDoMr2aN3/s1600/pique.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIKoq-9GRLUGdUiRDz2SgTuibtxc-6ykA77Qha3jU58fkM8vWq7OxckbUeiNFEH77wL2byeJ2TvW1xlWZ6sjtecK1efw6aD408aN_RbA3tN6k9jdqINC74qtfC1dkAi4Yyu1JuDoMr2aN3/s400/pique.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Please pray for Jasmine and her family, that she would be a witness of Jesus' love to her family, and that He would work through us. Please also pray for the beginning of Happy Hour, that we would be able to connect and build relationships of trust with families in the neighborhood. </div>
Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-64457718969431602742017-01-09T06:40:00.002-08:002017-01-09T06:40:48.787-08:00Bible School Reunion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhauN7ZOtRfHEG7ajj57aD3YNA5mi6sO8BUzmuYVsLosr2RravyISKB9NWOwPKl9NE-Dq8r01-D644TrD6abAA0I7EjhQd9tULm1VH5mrd_s5pDBgwLt-uFo0KR8V-PhylhYZ2nAGxYBgi/s1600/unknown%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
This last weekend we were able to spend at a retreat for the alumni of
the Bible school Franco attended. He had been asked to be the speaker
for the retreat, and we were able to take advantage and visit his family
who live near by as well.<br />
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The Bible school is also a farm, and many of the students receive
partial to full scholarships by helping with the care of the cows and
crops. Franco went to the school on this scholarship and learned as much
about cows and crops as he did the Bible... Almost! :)<br />
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The theme of the weekend was based on 1 Peter 5:6-10. In the morning the
days started off with breakfast and a devotional, and then a time of
worship and a sermon. After the sermon was a time for sports! (My
personal favorite.) after lunch, we had smaller groups to discuss and
reflect on the messages. I had the privilege of leading the women's
discussion group, and was encouraged by the openness of the women to how
God is working in their hearts and lives.<br />
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In the evenings there was another message, and testimony of the ministry
of alumni. Students from all over Bolivia and some from Argentina
shared about how the Lord has used the Bible school in their lives and
ministries.<br />
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Below are a few pictures from the weekend:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkLciBhNNQgmp5nJnRmu2b048LDm4DUUZDVTSIFpKvi7cynLb7XNSQI7nwHtWT-JoAg5cFIEiziRdFMVQWrZo6hp9jkkGYJSJCZAvw9AcWJpffDf1brYoXKWYe-_wm8ViAnpCPtjN8kYS/s1600/image1.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibkLciBhNNQgmp5nJnRmu2b048LDm4DUUZDVTSIFpKvi7cynLb7XNSQI7nwHtWT-JoAg5cFIEiziRdFMVQWrZo6hp9jkkGYJSJCZAvw9AcWJpffDf1brYoXKWYe-_wm8ViAnpCPtjN8kYS/s400/image1.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Group Photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhauN7ZOtRfHEG7ajj57aD3YNA5mi6sO8BUzmuYVsLosr2RravyISKB9NWOwPKl9NE-Dq8r01-D644TrD6abAA0I7EjhQd9tULm1VH5mrd_s5pDBgwLt-uFo0KR8V-PhylhYZ2nAGxYBgi/s1600/unknown%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhauN7ZOtRfHEG7ajj57aD3YNA5mi6sO8BUzmuYVsLosr2RravyISKB9NWOwPKl9NE-Dq8r01-D644TrD6abAA0I7EjhQd9tULm1VH5mrd_s5pDBgwLt-uFo0KR8V-PhylhYZ2nAGxYBgi/s320/unknown%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hight-tec projector set-up</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKZi3X1GQuTEQjvDqwBaShOXjoxFKBJ9LHF9g121eyh7AufmTLMu8mrUzpSb4lAk6vsW-ZsQluKXM8f0LbpWL0sZZvyXZPVlNP0NE_0xw1DHHnfh2IrYThHl-tV83ppt6y9zW9G0sUxmbJ/s1600/unknown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKZi3X1GQuTEQjvDqwBaShOXjoxFKBJ9LHF9g121eyh7AufmTLMu8mrUzpSb4lAk6vsW-ZsQluKXM8f0LbpWL0sZZvyXZPVlNP0NE_0xw1DHHnfh2IrYThHl-tV83ppt6y9zW9G0sUxmbJ/s320/unknown.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Franco preaching and representing UNT!</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_dA5uIGSchvyJTjP2A4DhyUKLaK9VBNhCj4_yqOVUkZU0wcsWzblEzNNSp30NRYgot-VWFV9X9sJVHpCZlHEBAsoWdTYh92BgIfHnEE9KwHQEyKQSt5_euwf-kw5iQhpjShD8JSbwk01/s1600/unknown%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM_dA5uIGSchvyJTjP2A4DhyUKLaK9VBNhCj4_yqOVUkZU0wcsWzblEzNNSp30NRYgot-VWFV9X9sJVHpCZlHEBAsoWdTYh92BgIfHnEE9KwHQEyKQSt5_euwf-kw5iQhpjShD8JSbwk01/s320/unknown%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Screen printing t-shirts</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrfO2nv1lSW8z1K_LOGsHrXOjZWTJg8BmAI6No7JkP3kb0hb_bWg_LJ_mhhfcL39A1iDaXIrJuoYACjwX8iQji3lJoOkbc_vdiU6kBwE2cMT3cMRUdIyRMJLCikfNh2R8YutlgsM5c-2f/s1600/unknown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlrfO2nv1lSW8z1K_LOGsHrXOjZWTJg8BmAI6No7JkP3kb0hb_bWg_LJ_mhhfcL39A1iDaXIrJuoYACjwX8iQji3lJoOkbc_vdiU6kBwE2cMT3cMRUdIyRMJLCikfNh2R8YutlgsM5c-2f/s320/unknown.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corn fields and the coulds covering the mountains</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRQqVjzsDYCzOs-QrSB2PYHfXxKb-bCLiNicQNDEN_80OhC9aMerl_5p5hcfZN-plt3yNxyr1fjj4-81Wfpm31KRYmIrH_b4hsXRwVblPcWHEQUNVPSI7TGgsZzEmK86DLehfji9gA1oA/s1600/unknown%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqRQqVjzsDYCzOs-QrSB2PYHfXxKb-bCLiNicQNDEN_80OhC9aMerl_5p5hcfZN-plt3yNxyr1fjj4-81Wfpm31KRYmIrH_b4hsXRwVblPcWHEQUNVPSI7TGgsZzEmK86DLehfji9gA1oA/s320/unknown%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finished product</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-6661159790560533312016-09-03T07:50:00.002-07:002016-09-03T07:50:07.182-07:00Visa Trip to La Paz<br />
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In order for Franco to travel to the United States, the
first step in the process was to get a passport.
Once we had the passport, the application was done online, and the application
fee paid at one of the local banks. Finally after completing the steps, we were
given an interview date in La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. <br />
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The city of La paz is about a 7 hour bus ride from
Cochabamba where we live, so we took the bus (for $4.50 each) to one of the highest cities in
South America. At almost 12,000 feet altitude, La Paz is a beautiful city,
surrounded by mountains, and breathtaking, literally. Even with altitude
medicine, the symptoms of altitude sickness start to kick in. <br />
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Thankfully, a good friend from college, Ludi lives in La
Paz, and helped us find a place to stay, and took us to dinner!<br />
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The next morning, our sweet host guided us to the American
embassy. We avoided morning traffic by using the cities cable car system for
only 50 cents each! We finally arrived for the visa interview (4 hours early
just to be safe) and took care of some last minute details for the visa. Once
we were finished and had only 3 hours to kill, we walked around the city a little
before running out of breath.<br />
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For lunch, I was very excited to find a Subway across the street
from the embassy! Cochabamba does not have one, so it was a special treat! A
little before 1:00, we returned to the embassy to wait in line. At 1:30 Franco
went in for his interview, and I went to an internet café nearby to wait and pray.
I´m sure it was not as long as it seemed, but it was a good time to pray and
remember that God is in control, and He is good, whether the visa turns out
accroding to our plans or not. <br />
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After getting the good news!</div>
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After an hour and a half of waiting, Franco walked in with good news! He got the visa!!!!!! Although I had mentally prepared for the answer to be no, I was very relieved to hear the great news.<br />
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Since we had to be back in Cochabamba the next morning to teach at the school, we headed immediately to the bus terminal, and bought the cheapest/most reliable option back to Cochabmba. We calculated that we should be home around midnight if everything went smoothly.... HA!<br />
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About three hours outside of La Paz, we came to a stop at a small store in the middle of nowhere. Our first thought was bathroom break, but then it seemed too long to be a bathroom break. Then, one of the indigenous women in front of us gathered her stuff and climbed off of the bus. She returned shortly, clearly angry. Speaking in Quechua she announced something to the other passengers, and soon half of the upper level of the bus had gotten off. At this point, Franco and I decided to see what was going on, and were met with a crowd of angry passengers surrounding the driver of the bus.<br />
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Outside of the bus terminal in La Paz<br />
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We never did figure out exactly what went wrong, either a small crash, or mechanical problems, but whatever the issue was, the bus was not going any farther. I hadn't planned to start hitchiking on this particular trip, but unless we wanted to spend the night on the side of the road, it was our only option.<br />
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Thankfully, after about an hour (and lots of truck drivers turned down) a bus headed to Oruro (the next town with a bus terminal) picked us up, After about an hour and a half, we arrived at the next bus terminal and purchased a ticket for the 11:00 bus to Cochabamba. From there we had about 4 1/2 hours to Cochabamba, and arrived safely around 3:45am. Almost midnight!<br />
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It was an exhausting/productive trip, but we are so thankful for God's provision in the big things, and the little. Thank you for your prayers throughout the process!<br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-81531275825401771022016-03-24T13:15:00.005-07:002016-03-24T13:46:01.999-07:00Father’s Day!<br />
In Bolivia, Father’s day is celebrated each year on March 19th. In the Catholic Church this is also the day that Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus is celebrated. <br />
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At Casa de Amor, Father’s day is always a difficult day for our kids. We are blessed to have many wonderful people in our kid’s lives both near and far, but this is a day that the kids are often reminded of the absence of their biological fathers.<br />
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This year, only three of our children celebrated Father’s day at their school by preforming a special dance and sharing a meal with their “fathers” in their classroom.<br />
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AM, B, and E were all excited to participate in the festivities, and were joined by a crowd. Tio David, the administrator of Casa de Amor, three volunteers, Franco, and I, were able to there for the dances.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0qXfQo85Pc9mlqJ71JIvaAqtCmI5Wh9sr5CW1B1hroJ1EkHgdHuSn0JFREAAbFQxOyZvrbC51HYSUHiRw0eBjez0kax78d5JMdyAvMMPXZBf8bVos4nK_sxF43Hml9qcArEWdQonC_Ee/s1600/12380147_1071145382907978_1370303075_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0qXfQo85Pc9mlqJ71JIvaAqtCmI5Wh9sr5CW1B1hroJ1EkHgdHuSn0JFREAAbFQxOyZvrbC51HYSUHiRw0eBjez0kax78d5JMdyAvMMPXZBf8bVos4nK_sxF43Hml9qcArEWdQonC_Ee/s320/12380147_1071145382907978_1370303075_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">B with her classmates!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AM dancing as Celia Cruz with her class!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A.M. Front and center!</td></tr>
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After the dances, Tio David, Franco and I split up to eat lunch with each child. While I was honored to be an honorary father, I also was reminded of the difficult situation so many of our kids find themselves in. As we got to the classroom, B’s classmate was questioning her about her father. B has grown up in the home, and accepted Christ as her savior last year. When I arrived, she informed the little boy that we shared the same father. The boy looked at her questioningly, until B informed him that God was our father.<br />
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As we were waiting for our food, another classmate asked B where her mother was. She successfully ignored the question and continued talking, but it was clear she didn’t want to answer.<br />
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I left the school with a heavy heart that day, but I am thankful for the reminder that God is a good father, and that He allows His people to be a practical part of His plan on this earth. Thank you for your prayers personally and generosity in allowing me to be here in Cochabamba, and for loving the children from afar! <br />
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8704711176797780253.post-27089161078417139162016-02-18T11:39:00.000-08:002016-02-18T11:39:14.505-08:00Fresh Bread<br />At Casa de Amor, breakfast and dinner typically include some form of fresh bread. For breakfast, children normally eat a piece of bread accompanied by a warm drink. Bolivia is famous for its warm, purple drink called Api, but there are many other drinks that the kids also love!<div>
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Although bread is relatively inexpensive in Bolivia (14 pieces of bread/ $1) the staff takes time each week to make fresh bread from scratch. This is a great way to save money, but also an opportunity to teach the kids (and volunteers!) new life skills. <br /><br />Although the kids don't exactly speed up the process, they enjoy helping the tias with the dough, letting it rise in the sun, making balls of dough, and then cooking the bread in the industrial sized oven! (Don't worry, the kids don't get too close to the oven!) </div>
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Making the bread also helps the kids to appreciate the food they are eating. Often when food appears on the table the kids struggle to be grateful because they do not have a good concept of the work that has been put into providing and cooking the meal. When the kids eat bread, they are proud to offer bread to visitors, and are more appreciative! </div>
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Thank you for helping to provide our daily bread!! :)<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSO5a8Y1Bd3CO22Ocsbt_YmgAu1zUnAU7JlJ9OCiugCqUL9pCJ1eIX30nWlSkS01rgQ9jj_wEvBF25WULBzzKOYsII5-60uYGx7_xxTpKEuDTio4ytsxXlwv_otkLeKmug0UMkOEYriXrL/s640/blogger-image-536778275.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSO5a8Y1Bd3CO22Ocsbt_YmgAu1zUnAU7JlJ9OCiugCqUL9pCJ1eIX30nWlSkS01rgQ9jj_wEvBF25WULBzzKOYsII5-60uYGx7_xxTpKEuDTio4ytsxXlwv_otkLeKmug0UMkOEYriXrL/s640/blogger-image-536778275.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hard at work....<br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IrDu92nnFg71IzBGEIkMy7LWMF7KoM_O16ivlF_wiw4Erb6ycGiC9WqdOMUAKMnHZCdek-2KmLSi9OFOqg-_5SGL0h1rpxmkgpHqOqrGZ37gUNa6oi9vZvq-gsR8f6LxD6l9NNAkNIQZ/s640/blogger-image-966916495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IrDu92nnFg71IzBGEIkMy7LWMF7KoM_O16ivlF_wiw4Erb6ycGiC9WqdOMUAKMnHZCdek-2KmLSi9OFOqg-_5SGL0h1rpxmkgpHqOqrGZ37gUNa6oi9vZvq-gsR8f6LxD6l9NNAkNIQZ/s640/blogger-image-966916495.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making bread in style!<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh85vnhFybeBtqcqgtG6lFiz9uoThhaiSzaGZskpJwGC-NCZk8pvwfWP1_MS6S7SFyYSDvlQ02TSskNI4F13ynlLyX80Y65GWh-Ps6a83gZwFwS8YWdiCn48E6LovUMUq1E-0_wnOa_goc/s640/blogger-image-53306811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh85vnhFybeBtqcqgtG6lFiz9uoThhaiSzaGZskpJwGC-NCZk8pvwfWP1_MS6S7SFyYSDvlQ02TSskNI4F13ynlLyX80Y65GWh-Ps6a83gZwFwS8YWdiCn48E6LovUMUq1E-0_wnOa_goc/s640/blogger-image-53306811.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oops, I accidentally got the dough in your hair....<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisj4d33ro0ILnubUViNA1XUIen3SG0A9qCCrNtZkH5-oq-NQi0fLkIsO3tZqPNteTvRUN8ouqfJg5G_LayTZGWZ8rQ2JPfUkl6N780tNWOjoB8xV-RQ3b7jPKxEYLJ2I-VIB6R6d0prmVp/s640/blogger-image--952505728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisj4d33ro0ILnubUViNA1XUIen3SG0A9qCCrNtZkH5-oq-NQi0fLkIsO3tZqPNteTvRUN8ouqfJg5G_LayTZGWZ8rQ2JPfUkl6N780tNWOjoB8xV-RQ3b7jPKxEYLJ2I-VIB6R6d0prmVp/s640/blogger-image--952505728.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No one is too young to help! </td></tr>
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Danyelle Graveshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09028996463529961921noreply@blogger.com0