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I am a firm believer in immersing yourself as a missionary into your host country. I believe you should learn the language, learn and adapt to local customs, etc. I don't believe in forming and living within an American "bubble" here in the Philippines. However, there are times when you need a little taste of your home country. Our Thanksgiving party this year was more than just a little taste, it was a feast of Americana. Inviting missionary friends and family, we had the traditional dinner complete with turkey and all the trimmings. We watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and A Charlie Brown Christmas, and we also watched some football. We all ate too much. We also kicked off the Christmas season with a white elephant gift exchange. We even enjoyed the glow of a "fire." I truly love living here in the Philippines. Iloilo is my home. America is also my home, so when I can feast on American culture for one evening, it is a blessing.

Whereas it is the duty of all nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey His will, to be grateful for His benefits, and humbly to implore His protection and favor; and Whereas both Houses of Congress have, by their joint committee, requested me to "recommend to the people of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer, to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many and signal favors of Almighty God, especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness:" Now, therefore, I do recommend and assign Thursday, the 26th day of November next, to be devoted by the people of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being who is the beneficent author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be; that we may then all unite in rendering unto Him our sincere and humble thanks for His kind care and protection of the people of this country previous to their b

a repost of something I wrote about five years ago: "On the way to church there was a funeral procession. The person who passed away was not very rich since there was no car or hearse carrying the coffin. The simple wooden coffin was being carried by the mourners, being followed by some carrying flowers. What is striking about this is that the coffin was very small. A child had passed away. The most striking thing about this funeral procession, however, was that children were carrying the coffin. Children were carrying the flowers. The mourners were all children, no adults. No mother or father to grieve this child's passing. Not even an uncle or auntie to assist in the burial. Just children. In a country were over half of the population is under the age of 18, there are so many who are fatherless and motherless. One such child was buried last Sunday."

This is a repost of something I posted nearly five years ago when I first started this blog. The other day I saw a little girl sleeping. She was curled up in a ball, sucking her thumb, fast asleep. She looked so calm and peaceful, the way kids do when they are sleeping, in spite of the fact that she was sleeping on the ground on a sidewalk on a corner of a busy intersection. What appeared to be her family was a few feet away. They were filthy and looked desperately poor. They had a younger child with them, happily playing in the dirt. he was naked as the day he was born. My heart is broken for such as these. A part of me wanted to jump off the jeepney I was riding and offer some kind of help. A part of me still wants to scoop up the little girl and take her home. The image of her still haunts my thoughts. I can still picture her family sitting on the sidewalk. I can still see her sleeping, her face like an angel. This motivates me to strive and work even harder for the kids at the Son

Eric, Faithy, and Danny have all used this high chair--yes it's lasted that long. It's Gabi's turn now.