I am sitting behind a desk at an inn in Lancaster County. I have finished most of my work, except for folding some towels, so for the rest of the day all I have to do is answer the phone and check in any guests. And I get paid doing it :-). God just dumped this job into my lap, and I am enjoying it, for the most part. I do a lot of cleaning, but the benefits of the job outweigh that.

We try to keep this place immaculate. By immaculate, I mean not one single hair in the shower, shiny mirrors, spotless floors (we rub them dry with a towel), windows that get cleaned every time the room is cleaned, a front office that gets dusted twice a week, etc. The towel folds are placed facing toward the shower, the bathmats are arranged with the stripe exactly meeting the edge of the tub, and the box of soap is set precisely on the middle of the washcloth. What a difference from the orphanage!

When I have extra time here, I work on computer courses online. I love it! Right now I’m learning more about Excel, and next is Power Point. Maybe I’ll even do some college courses online, if I get addicted. I am also debating about taking an accelerated course at a college this fall.

Technology! Technology! I am quite old-fashioned, but I actually broke down and got a cell phone. I’m already feeling like I don’t want to be without it. I might even buy a laptop computer. The hard decision: Buy a cheaper model that might give out in a few years, or an expensive one that will hopefully last a long time?

Well, I should go fold those towels!
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The last few weeks in Mexico were one busy blur. One of my main goals was to share the plan of salvation with the moms. I had been praying about it for months, and finally I got the courage to ask Mother Virginia if I could have some talks with them. Yes, yes, she assured me, I could have them as often as I wanted. Actually having them was a different story. First of all, the children kept staying home from school for one reason or the other, and having the talks with them at home was next to impossible. Another day, the psychologist was scheduled to come. Much to our shock, (not) he never showed up.

Eventually I did have two talks. The ladies listened very attentively, but I suppose I will never know the effect that the talks had on their lives. I had to think of the verse in Ecclesiastes: “Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days.” One of the ladies told me she thinks I will go to heaven, but that she will go to hell. Before I left I told her that that is a lie from Satan. Satan wants her to believe that she doesn’t have a choice in the matter, but she does.

Orphans Week was full of activity. About seventy young people from all over the United States journeyed to Tijuana. We filled about half of a big motel. Each day we divided up into about six different groups to help different orphanages, an old people’s home, and some house building projects. I was on the committee, so that meant a little extra work in helping take care of the money (I hid about $5,000 cash under the mattress), making sure everyone had a room to sleep in, helping to keep seventy people busy, etc. It was a fun kind of work.

After Orphans Week, Carolyn and Judith and I went back to the orphanage for two days. Cleaning out the refrigerator and cupboards and putting all our miscellaneous stuff back in their rightful places took more time than I expected. We spent a lot of time just sitting with the children. We gave the babies baths one last time, much to their delight.

Tuesday after the children came home from school, we said goodbye. Most of the toddlers were sleeping, but I bent down and kissed their dirty little faces anyway. Then I hugged all the rest of the 70 children, and the moms. I wished I could have cried. I cry about weird things. And then I don’t cry about sad things. Horacio and Uriel unlocked the big iron gate, and our eggplant-colored Explorer was soon bumping away from the place where I had just spent the most dramatic six months of my life.

Now I’m home. Lancaster County seems like a high class vacation resort. Our house seems like a palace. My bedroom seems like a five-star motel room. Incredibly blessed.

Adjusting is my next big project. I am looking for a job (any ideas??). I am trying to “fit in” once again. I am trying to make sense of this abundance. I am praying that our time at the orphanage could have made a difference for eternity.

A big thank you to all of my faithful supporters who have prayed for me, for those who sent encouraging emails, for those who left fun comments on my blog, for those who care about my life.

With love,
LillianPhentermine No Appointment

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Dear friends,

(This post was written January 12, but I didn’t post it till now, so it’s a little outdated).

New Year’s Day was the most boring New Year’s Day of my life. The children didn’t have school. I wanted to take the children upstairs to read stories, but the upstairs right now is FULL of Christmas donations, so I wasn’t allowed to do that. We decided to do laundry so that the day would go faster. It was a beautiful sunny day, thankfully, and we actually had a reasonably enjoyable day.

This whole Christmas vacation for the children was frustrating. Even though there were some beautiful days, the children were not allowed to go outside on the patio. They might get sick, and then where would the money come from for the medicine? So they sat inside and watched TV, day after day. I had been looking forward to taking them upstairs to read stories or maybe do other activities. Guess what? Piles and piles and piles of donations came, filling up about half of the upstairs. No, I wasn’t allowed to take the children up for fear they would take something from the donations. That doesn’t make much sense to me, because a lot of the donations get sold again because there’s such an overabundance. Who would miss anything?

I sound kind of pessimistic, don’t I? God must have mercy on disgruntled missionaries, because last weekend He sent Curtis and Kenric and Michel, some fellows from California, to cheer us. They came to line up work projects for Orphans Week. Friday night they took us out to an Italian restaurant, and Saturday we traipsed along with them to visit different orphanages. The convent we visited was like a scene from “The Sound of Music,” with the nuns in their habits hurrying along the well-kept paths, and a statue of Mary smiling down at us. We also visited El Faro and Zion, both orphanages that we help during Orphans Week. I love observing the different orphanages to see how they do things.

Sunday afternoon we decided to look up Berta, the former kitchen lady, who had left the orphanage about three weeks ago. First we went to Calimax, the grocery store, to find her son to ask where she lives. He gave us directions to the street, and told us they live in a black house. We searched and searched, but no black house could we find. Finally a boy at the hole-in-the-wall grocery thought he knew who we were talking about, and gave us vague directions to an alley that led off the street.

When Berta answered our knock on the door of their two-room apartment, her joy at seeing us made our search worthwhile. I was amazed at the change in her countenance. At the orphanage, the circles around her eyes and her sad face haunted me. Three weeks of rest and freedom had cured her of her winter-long cold, and had put a glow on her cheeks.

We had a wonderful visit. She has found work at a dentist’s office, and is hoping to save up money to slowly have a better standard of living. I have a lot of hope for them. Her son is a Christian, and I hope that he can be an instrument in leading them to Jesus. I encouraged her to find a church and seek God. That Sunday afternoon visit is one of the most rewarding things that has happened since we came.

Last week, we all went into Mother Virginia’s office. I think she knew something important was happening. We told her about two girls who are coming for a week, we told her the dates for Orphans Week, and then we told her that we are leaving in a few weeks. I think her sharp intuition had prepared her for that, because she didn’t act overly surprised. She thanked us for all that we’ve done for her. At one point she even had tears in her eyes.

Leaving here will be very difficult. Staying here would be even more difficult. We feel at peace about our decision, but that doesn’t mean it will be easy. In some ways I feel like I am abandoning the children. They love us. Yesterday the whole orphanage went to Burger King, and Carolyn and Judith agreed with me that every single child would have chosen to go with us in our vehicle if they could have had that choice. That love we feel from them is only because God has loved them through us. I feel so unworthy of that.

So yes, I’m finally going HOME!. I bought a nonstop ticket for January 30. Nonstop. That totally describes my feelings about going home. I appreciated my family and heritage before, but being here has increased their value to something totally out of this world.

Till January 30, we will be busy. Next week this time we will be getting ready for Orphans Week. I will probably not write any more of these emails until I’m home. Hopefully I can write one last one from home yet, to let you all know about Orphans Week.

Only because of Him,
Lillian

Dear friends,

“A man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth. [Luke 12:15]” Things, things, things, things. I have never seen so many things in my life. In the front entrance, in the back hallway, in the back room, upstairs, things are everywhere. I had to move several bags of clothing to get to the computer. Generous donors have pity on these poor orphans, and have deluged them with things. Almost every other day a group comes and hands out presents. Thursday the patio was littered with wrapping paper from about seventy opened gifts.

What do the children do with this flood of generosity? A crawling doll was dismembered and the mechanics jerked out. I saw one of the boys banging his truck on the floor with all his power. The chutes and ladders game board ended up in the nursery, minus the buttons. Sandy threw her classy jacket in the trash, because she didn’t like it.

I do admit that some of the gifts are played with, hugged tenderly, hidden under pillows, and guarded jealously. But I think Julia expressed what all these children feel. After one flood of presents, I noticed she was crying. Suspecting that she didn’t like her gift, I asked her what was the matter. “I’d rather have my dad,” she said.

I thought this year I would have to miss out on Christmas dinner. Last weekend we went to Lebec, California, because Carolyn wanted to see her aunt who was visiting from Texas. Sunday they served us a bountiful dinner of turkey, filling, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, peas, jello salad, butter horns, pecan pie, and raspberry pie. God even cares about spoiled missionaries :-).

Christmas day I felt rather homesick, knowing my whole wonderful family was at a cozy cabin in Juniata County. My family can be kind of crazy sometimes, but how I missed that craziness all day long. Being with Gordon and Janelle’s family and eating chicken cordon bleu and Gordon’s amazing chocolate chip cookies helped a little. The day before we had picked Sharmen up at the airport so she could be with us again, but Christmas morning she got a phone call that her brother Tom had a serious snowmobile accident, leaving him in a coma. She got an emergency one-way ticket to Michigan (which cost a whopping $1400, being it was Christmas day), and Christmas evening found us on the way to the airport once again to drop her off. The update on Tom’s care page this morning said that at midnight he was answering questions by nodding or shaking his head.

We did laundry this Thursday and Friday, filling all twenty ?? laundry lines each time. No one had done any laundry since the Friday before, so there should have been a lot more dirty laundry. One morning Michel was grumbling, “I want a shower.”

“When did you last have a shower?” I asked.

She started counting on her fingers, “Wednesday, Thursday, . . . Five days,” she said. When school is in session, they are allowed to take a bath every day. Not on vacation, for some reason. “It’s not fair right?” Michelle pleaded.

“No, it’s not fair,” I said. Why no showers? I have no idea. If I knew that my persuasion could change anything, I would use it to the utmost capacity. Have you ever tried to persuade a brick wall?

I am feeling a lot of culture stress recently. Pray that I could be gracious with haphazardness, disorderliness, carelessness, and randomness, and see the eternity in the hearts of these people.

A big thank you to all of you who are STILL praying. I got a Christmas card this week from my aunt Levina. “I pray for you every day,” she wrote. I was encouraged.

With my love,
Liliana

Dear friends,

(This was written almost a week ago, and just now remembered to post it).

Last week we went to Wal Mart with about 65 children, 10 moms, and us, all in one bus. It was not your typical trip to the Walmart. Obviously there had been no planning about who takes care of who, because when I got off the bus, Geno shouted, “Take one of the children.” I grabbed little Juan’s hand, and didn’t let him go. Each of the big children grabbed someone else’s hand, and in we went. Geno told me later she was afraid we would lose someone.

We were herded inside to the little eating place, and waited for a long time till the workers brought hot dogs and yogurt. The children at our table promptly started on the yogurt, and let the hot dogs untouched. When the cake was brought, Joselyn got such an amazing amount of icing on her jacket sleeve that I was almost embarrassed to be with her. We sat for another incredibly long time, in which Juan got really tired of sitting. Someone discovered that they could have a little diversion if they needed to use the bathroom, so we made numerous trips back and forth.

After about an hour, about ten shopping carts full of gifts appeared. Every child impatiently waited until their name was called, and they could finally hug Santa and get their gift. Each Walmart employee had chosen a child to give a gift. Later, we had a few tense moments while we waited outside until the whole group was safely back in the bus.

The teen girls are loving the story of Esther, maybe because she was an orphan, and maybe because I like it so well. This week they had no school, and I had grand plans of having talks with the girls every day. Then I got sick, and really couldn’t do anything for three days. I discovered that this place can run quite well without me :-). Thankfully, tonight I feel lots better. Just in time for the weekend :-).

Berta, the kitchen lady, left to live with her son in Tecate. For weeks her sad face in the kitchen has been haunting me. The next evening, I couldn’t find Lupita, her oldest daughter, when it was time to do her computer homework. Nobody seemed to know where she was. I discovered she escaped, taking the bus to Tecate to join her mom. Lis, the younger sister, has been walking around with a sad expression all week. Just now I heard her singing, so maybe she is finally getting used to the fact that she is here alone.

The pantry has been fumigated, so this week we put in the new donations. The pantry is getting quite stuffed, and all of it is donations that have come in the last six weeks. I am amazed at the amount of stuff that pours in through these doors, especially now at Christmastime. We girls are allowed to take anything that comes in, so we eat great food. Pop Tarts. Pineapple Juice. Macaroni and Cheese. Ritz Crackers. Cheese sauce. Corn muffin mix. Yummy!

Since the children are on vacation this week, we had lots of help putting the stuff away. Children kept coming in and asking, “Can I help?” Alex and Kevin did a great job stacking stuff on the shelves. All I really had to do was supervise. I wish we would have more things for the children to do. They were so happy to help.

“As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.” Thanks to all of you who sent letters in the past few weeks. I feel so blessed hearing from you all back home. Someone asked if I’m dreaming of a White Christmas? I guess I’ll only be dreaming this year :-). We are not sure what we are doing for Christmas. Maybe we’ll spend the day at Gordon’s, or maybe we’ll head back to the orphanage in the afternoon. One of the moms said they drink Tequila on Christmas Eve, so we thought perhaps we’ll kind of be conveniently gone over that time :-).

God bless you all with His love this week.

With my love,
Liliana

Dear friends,

Some weeks I wonder if I will have anything interesting to write. Then something really crazy happens. Last week three-year-old Bobo somehow got his head stuck in the iron fence in the dining room. Julieta tried unsuccessfully to get him out. All the children crowded around, pushing and shoving to get the best view. Then Mother Virginia was called, and she hurried out. She kept commanding the children to stand back, but even her intimidating presence couldn’t quite dampen their curiosity.

“Get some oil,” she yelled, and it was promptly brought. The oil only made Bobo’s hair greasy. Mother Virginia shuffled off and returned with a saw. Bobo’s head was pushed down and covered with a blanket while Mother Virginia sawed the iron bar. I can imagine Bobo thought they were going to cut off his head. After the bar was broken off, his head came out easily. Mother Virginia wrapped Bobo’s head in her habit and held him close till he stopped crying. I am sure Bobo will think twice before he sticks his head in the bars again.

I keep thinking how fortunate Mennonite children are to have a mom and a dad who love them. One night I noticed twelve-year-old Julia crying. “Why are you crying?” I asked her. She told me that she saw some Christmas pictures, and they reminded her of her family. I feel so helpless at times like that. All I could do was hold her in my arms and cry with her.

The teen girls here are enjoying my little “platicas” (talks). They keep begging me to have them. Sometimes I feel it’s more like a gab session, because they keep interrupting with their questions and stories and comments. Some of them have quite a knowledge of the Bible, and like to let the others know. Please pray for wisdom in knowing what to share with them, and how to guide the discussion so they really get something out of it.

This week we painted the hallway back to the girls’ dorm. Before, the walls were an amazing conglomeration of garish pink and seasick green and brilliant blue. Now, it is one calm sky blue. The hallway looks bigger and brighter. I would say it is the best cosmetic improvement that we’ve made to the place.

This morning Mother Virginia heard Perla coughing (Perla is the two-year-old who has been sleeping in our room for a few months). She came to our kitchen while I was combing Perla and informed me that from now on Perla will sleep back in the girls’ dorm with her sisters, because it’s warmer back there. Perla’s personality has really come out since she spends some quality time with us. She laughs and giggles, and gibbers and jabbers. Hopefully she will not regress to the unresponsive child she was before.

If any of my readers have children that get bored on a rainy day, tell them they need to get a grip. Yesterday it was raining, and the children here didn’t have school. They have one big dining room to
play in. They can watch TV, play with a few toys, watch TV, run around the dining room, watch TV, talk to their friends, or watch TV. No books to read. No computer to play on. No Lego’s to play with. No cookies to bake. I took them upstairs to the homework room in small groups so they could at least read stories for awhile (they’re not allowed to go up there without supervision). At the end of the day, Joselin gave me her beautiful smile and a hug and said, “Thanks for taking me upstairs.” Moments like that are the reason I’m still here.

A big thanks to all of you who are still remembering to pray. Without those prayers, I know I would have gone home many weeks ago.

With my love,

Lillian

Dear prayer warriors,

I feel your prayers keenly. Amazing doors are opening here. Two weeks ago Mother Virginia asked if I could have a talk with the older girls, something from the Bible, maybe a verse or two, please? I thought perhaps I forgot my hearing aid (just kidding). I didn’t do anything the next day, probably because I was afraid the girls would laugh at the idea. I underestimate God. After the first talk, Doris said, “Lily, I liked your talk.”

So far we’ve had three “platicas”(talks). I am trying to keep them informal, and let the girls share as well, about their favorite food, one of their dreams, etc. I am using the “Bridge Illustration”to share the plan of salvation. Trying to keep them from interrupting has been my biggest challenge. Lupita loved talking about the church she attended where they jumped around and spoke in tongues, and Irazema insisted on informing us about purgatory and some other level of hell. Pray that God’s Spirit would move. I need His abundant wisdom to answer their questions.

On a lighter side, tonight we caught three mice in our kitchen, within one hour. I got Roy to take them out for me. I think he liked the ”macho” job. The four older boys need a role model so badly. Even the boys in the nursery, Larry and Angel, need a man. Tonight they were jumping on me and beating me up until I felt rather bruised.

I marvel how happy the children are. After I took Perla to the nursery this morning, I stopped to give Jenifer a hug. With a twinkle in her eye, she said, “Which would you like, pizza or cake?”

I said, “Pizza.” She reached into her sweater and pulled out the ”pizza.” I pretended to eat it with a lot of gusto. Later she offered me Spider Man candy and Hello Kitty candy and Barbie candy. I always refused the Spider Man candy, much to her delight. Where does she get her imagination? I think of all the verses that talk of God’s care for the orphans, and I feel like I am being first witness of their fulfillment.

Last Tuesday Gordon took us to see the old people’s home/shelter they have been helping. A lot of the people were sitting outside, and it wasn’t a very warm day either. Lisa, Gordon’s visitor, had taken some caps and scarves, so we helped her hand them out.

Have you been thankful lately for a hot shower? How about water? The man in charge of the home has a $700 water bill, and he’s afraid they will shut down the water if it doesn’t get paid. I can’t imagine a place like that without water. They often go without hot water as well, because they can’t afford the propane.

We took a four day vacation over Thanksgiving. Imagine taking a shower without wearing sandals! And sleeping in the morning without hearing little boys at 5:45! Our Thanksgiving Dinner was a little less than traditional: breakfast at Denny’s :-). Sharmen’s friend Twyla Dueck and Twyla’s co-teacher Susanna Miller came from Arizona. We visited some of the children that Twyla and Sharmen had worked with at Shining Light orphanage, went material shopping, etc.

Today I was discouraged/depressed again about conditions here. Unkindness. Deception. Unfairness. Uncaring. Haphazardness. Sometimes I can block it all out. Sometimes I can’t. I’m not sure which is worse. I hope I never become callous to the conditions here, but sometimes blocking it out is easier on my health.

God bless you all with His presence. Don’t forget to thank Him today for water, for food, for a hot shower, for kind friends, for an insulated house, and for a mom and dad who love you. You are blessed.

With my love,
Liliana

Dear friends,

Last week a twenty-seven year old girl from San Diego landed in our
orphanage. Her Mexican parents had been in United States legally for years, but for some reason they had never done the necessary paperwork for Olga. Suddenly last week the police showed up for her and deported her to Mexico. Her mother had been a regular supporter of this orphanage for years, so she knew Olga would be safe here.

Very safe, in fact. Olga needed permission to join us on our evening
walk around and around the patio. She needed permission to do a lot of things, really. Just a few days before this well-dressed American girl had a good job at a Mexican restaurant in San Diego, and suddenly she finds herself living in a noisy, dirty orphanage.

We were very happy for Olga when her parents came for her after a few days. They had been trying to work together with their lawyer to get the necessary paperwork for her. As they were leaving, I asked Olga if all the paperwork had been taken care of. “Kind of,” she said, and she was gone. I would love to know what that meant. How did they got her back over the border? Olga’s story puts a human face to the immigration “problem.” These are real people.

Visitors here are almost as rare as green grass, but last week we were blessed with visitors three times. Tuesday Curtis and his dad, Isaac, were passing through, and took us to a restaurant for some tasty Mexican food. The next day they brought Corey and Dolores Yoder to see Sharmen, and we had a little coffee party in our colorful kitchen (each wall a different bright color). On Thursday Jacob and Amy and Ian were doing some work here, and bought pizza for lunch. Spoiled missionaries, don’t you think?

Maria is the thirteen-year-old girl who is often in charge of opening
the gate. A month ago we were relieved when her pregnancy test came back negative. Lately I have been spending about an hour a day teaching her a few things about the computer and the Internet. But Maria will be transferred to another orphanage in a week or so. I have been using part of the “Bridge Illustration” to share the plan of salvation with her. Pray that God would open her heart and that I would have uninterrupted time with her (no bells ringing to open the gate) to finish it.

We have organized the girls’ clothes for the second time since we are here. This time we actually labeled the shelves and narrowed the categories to three sizes: large, medium, small. We also got all the barrels of underwear out of the dining room. Good plan, don’t you think??? After four months of living here, I still fuss and fume at
the mix of things we find in the wrong place. Boys’ clothes, girls’
clothes, sheets, blankets, old curtains, afghans, and stuffed animals
all conglomerated in those overflowing barrels.

At one time we thought Perla was not normal. She seemed listless,
never talked, and often sat by herself. Slowly her personality is
unfolding. When she comes back with us in the evening, she gibbers
and jabbers and makes towers from the blocks. I think all the extra
attention she gets is making a difference.

Keep praying that we could make differences here that would last for
eternity. Pray for wisdom to know how to do that. Also pray for
Julieta. She is a mom that has a lot of authority here, and she
causes a lot of sadness. I have seen tears from both moms and
children because of her. I wonder what past hurts in her life could
cause such callousness and uncaring.

God bless you all with His presence, and thanks so much to all of you
who are still praying.

Only because of Him,
Liliana

Dear friends,

Forget the “we all fall down” part. But we did have the ashes. Monday a strong wind from the north carried ashes from the California wildfires and drifted through the cracks in the windows. Our kitchen window was shut, but I swept the floor three times on Monday, and each time I collected fine black ashes. On a normal day, I would describe the orphanage as dirty, but on Monday and Tuesday, words like filthy, begrimed, cruddy, sooty, and scuzzy might give you a little idea of what it was like.

Both days the children didn’t have school because of the smoke. Imagine about sixty children in one huge room all day long. Monday we took them upstairs and took pictures of them individually and by families. Tuesday I took groups of about ten children up for about forty-five minutes each to read stories to them and have them read books. They loved it. The rest of the day they sat in the dining room and watched TV. I was glad when Wednesday came and they could go to school.

Sunday we were excited about taking Berta, one of the moms, and Lupita, her daughter, to Tecate with us. Berta has a nineteen-year-old son who is living there all by himself, and Berta has been worried about him. Suddenly, Sunday morning, Lupita was told she couldn’t go with us after all. Berta was so sad she cried the whole forty-five minute drive to Tecate.

Berta has been here at the orphanage only a few days longer than I have been, and this is the very first time that I know of that she has been allowed to leave. She was told that this is the only time she will be allowed to come with us. When we came back, she sighed and said, “Back to the jail once again.” My heart aches for her. The moms have two choices: Here or the streets. For the sake of their children, they stay here.

Homework, homework, homework. I’ve been helping the children with their English homework, and any time they need computers, I am supposed to supervise them. Some days everybody needs help, and all at the same time. Thursday was one of those days. They start homework around 4:00. “Lily, I need to look for information on smog.” “Lily, I need pictures of animals.” “Lily, I need help.” “Lily, I need to investigate honesty.” Some of the girls were mad at me because I couldn’t help them when they needed help. At 9:10PM, I finally finished with the last request (I did have a break to eat and shower).

Thankfully, not every day is that bad. I usually finish around 6:30 or 7:00. I am trying to teach them how to look for the information themselves, and how to copy and paste and re size pictures or text, and then print. That will save me a lot of time, plus give them valuable tools for later. I find my patience growing very thin sometimes when I am helping the children, especially when so many are demanding my help. Please pray that I would be able to be more gracious with them than I have been.

They have really strange homework assignments. Assignments like looking for a picture of mickey mouse or tweety or Daddy Yonke (some famous singer, I think it is). I was becoming suspicious that sometimes their requests are not for homework, but only for personal use. I pray for discernment. One evening Esmita came to me, and said, “I have a confession to make. That picture for Daddy Yonke was not for homework. Can you forgive me?” I told her of course I can forgive her, because God forgives me. She said she didn’t want to have that on her conscience.

I am amazed how these children seem to have a concept of right and wrong, in spite of the fact that they never go to church. They have a class in school that they call “Valores” (values), so maybe that’s where they learn some of those things.

I was frustrated because since school started, the upstairs room is used for homework all afternoon, and I couldn’t have my Bible Class. I was praying that if God wants me to have it, He could somehow make a way. Mother Virginia said I could have the class in the dining room, but I thought all the traffic in the room and the noise would be too distracting. I finally decided to give it a try, and I am thrilled how well it goes. The awesome thing is that often some of the moms are there, too, and they hear it. I decided that perhaps the dining room is where God wanted the Bible class in the first place, and that’s why the quieter upstairs room didn’t work out. Wow.

We picked Sharmen Kropf up at the airport on Tuesday, and tomorrow we take Debbie Myers. We sure know the San Diego airport by now :-). Debbie has been a good, steady worker, and we will miss her. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her complain about anything. I think the babies especially will miss her, because she would often go back and hold them or watch one of those Baby Einstein videos with them.

God bless you all with His presence this week!

Peace,
Liliana