Relief for Hurricane Hit on Yucatan and Cuba

Received today from my friends, Harlan and Norma.


MISIÓN YUCATÁN
A.C.Colegio de las Américas Seminario Teológico Cristiano Una Institution Bautista

November 1, 2007

Greetings in Jesus Name, the Name above all names! Thank you for your faithful partnership with us in prayer and financial support of Mission Americas. We appreciate you friendship! We want to focus this letter on an act of prayer and advance praise for an area of His Ministry that we are involved. The floodwaters, generated by the recent Hurricane Noel, have devastated many Christian Families on the Island of Cuba and the States of Campeche and Tabasco in the Yucatan Peninsula. They are in need of our prayers and any financial help we can spare to send them for food and water. We have sent them all that we have available for food and water, but it will not be enough. Some homes and churches were destroyed and will need to be rebuilt. I am remaining in contact with our national leaders and I will keep you updated. I will send you some photos tomorrow. If you can help these wonderful people devastated by Noel, please send your gift to FBMI, P.O. Box 863763, Plano, Texas 75086-3763 and designate your gift Noel and we will see that it gets where it is needed the most. You can call at our international telephone number of 214-347-7843 and leave a message and I will call you back. You can also send an email to admin@fbmi.us and I will always answer you. Thank you in advance for all your help in prayers and financial aid and may our Lord bless your generosity!
Your friends and missionaries,
Harlan and Norma Capps
www.fbmi.us

Unexpected Phone Call

My son calls when I'm about a mile away from his little country school. The conversation goes something like this:

Aaron: Are you coming to get us?
Me: I'm almost there.
Aaron: You're gonna have to come in the building. We can't go outside.
Me: What are you talking about?
Aaron: There is an escaped convict and we can't leave the education building.
Me: You are pulling my leg. What are y'all up to?
Aaron: No really, we're in lock down. Mrs. Kuhnast is standing right here. And Mrs. Montgomery.
Me: You are so full of it.
Aaron: No one is walking around outside. No one can go outside. Wait til you get here, you'll see. Here ask Layne.
Me: Oh, like I'm gonna believe Layne.
Layne: He's not kidding. I don't lie. I'm a honest person. Ask Mrs. Kuhnast, she's even more honest than me.
(Mrs. K laughing in the background)
Layne: Mrs. Kuhnast, are we on lock down?
Mrs. Kuhnast: Yes we are.
Me: Okay, I'm almost there.

Sure enough. Dads are guarding the school grounds and a helicopter is flying overhead. I asked one of the "guards" to cover me as I went inside.

Read the official story.

Heard on DART

The oddest thing I heard on the train today came from a college aged white guy:
"Our government, which is Christian, gave HIV to the Black Panthers in an attempt to control what they viewed as riff-raff, not realizing that it would mutate and finally attack the rich and all levels of society."

The nicest thing I witnessed on the train today was:
A woman commented on the beauty of an other's silver necklace. The owner of the necklace said, "Thank you" and continued her conversation with her seatmate. Many stops later, as the necklace lady was getting off, she handed the necklace to the complementor and stepped of the train. The gifted lady was in shock.

The Oregon Trail

My wonderful neighbors have moved to Portland. Now, they didn't take a covered wagon, but their journey has been rough and painful. We moved in almost four years ago across the street from Al and Feta. Feta was in good shape and loved to work in their yard. I noticed something was a little off when she asked me after we had been their for three months if we had moved in yet. We had four busy children at that time and they have a lot of busy friends, so I thought it was strange that she didn't realize we were moved in. She stopped working in the yard and began looking very fragile. One day while out walking with her sister we met in the little park next to our homes. She asked me if I had any children. I knew at that point what was going on. Feta was traveling the rutty, hard, dusty, stormy road of Alzheimer's. We had to make sure that the children knew so they could help if she ever wondered off or seemed very confused. Al takes such beautiful care of her. And he still took beautiful care of the others in the cul-de-sac. Al is still extremely spry for being a man who fought in World War II for the Scandinavian Special Forces. He was at the Battle of the Bulge. Al always had a big hug for me and a kiss on the cheek. He gave my youngest son his old, beautiful drafting table, light, and boxes and boxes of markers, pastels, etc... He sent off to National Geographic for a beach ball globe for our Callie. She was thrilled. He would help with everyone's trashcans and gave me his coupons.

Al realized that he was at an age that something could happen to him and Feta might not remember how to get help. He knew it was time to move to a safer place for both of them. So, after living in the same home since 1973, Al and his daughter cleaned out and prepared for Portland. The last few days were so confusing for Feta. Why were they packing and getting rid of things, why were they staying with friends? They didn't bring her back to the house after the moving truck was loaded. It would have been too much. I can't imagine living in the same house thirty-four years and the next day be in a completely different environment. From warm to cold, from familiar to everything strange. My heart breaks for her and the confusion she must be trying to sort out right now. My heart breaks for Al as he helps her deal with it, watches her fade, and misses his home. My heart breaks for Chrystal as she gets them settled in and watches her mother fade.

Heart for the Homeless

I have a new friend. She is this little ball of energy named Susie. Her heart is bigger than Texas. Susie began a love affair with the homeless of Dallas a few years ago after the suicide of her husband. Asking God to give her a ministry in the city, He pointed out the homeless under the Canton Bridge. She was not happy about His choice. Her heart felt nothing but disdain for a population of people she felt were dirty, smelly, lazy, scary and strung out. But God knew that her heart was bigger than that and He started her on a journey that has led to the creation of Operation Care Dallas, Inc. This will be the fourth year of Christmas Gift, the largest Christmas Party for the homeless in the nation. Last year saw 6,700 guests walk through the doors of the Dallas Convention Center.

And the drive behind it all is a little Filipino lady named Susie Jennings. She works full time as a nurse at Baylor and ministers to the homeless in her spare time. And when I say she ministers, I don't mean she throws money at them and acknowledges them from time to time. She spends hours with them trying to meet their physical and spiritual needs.

I find her truly amazing.

"Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight..." James 1:27

My kiddos

I wondered why Aaron wanted to borrow my glasses. It took awhile to convince him that I needed them. I figured it out when I saw what jacket he was washing to wear to school today. Can you guess who he is?

And my Rinn makes a mean "Heroes" cheerleader. I helped burn the holes in the shirt. We had to rush it to the sink.

Restaveks

Some things make me really angry and very sad all at the same time. This is one of those things. 27 million slaves still exist in this world. Many are children. Over 17,000 are brought into the United States EVERY YEAR. It is often called different things, glossed over, excuses made. It is still slavery. I saw it first hand on a trip to Morocco. Little girls brought from villages and supposedly paid by the middle class that can't afford traditional housekeepers. No schooling, just fetching and cleaning until they are in their teens and attracting the attention of the father or teen-age boy of the family. Then the girl is put out on the streets to fend for herself. There are groups that take in these girls, train them in employable skills, love them, and give them new leases on life. There are also organizations that are calling for the practice to cease. I'm sure that this happens in many countries where life is not valued. It is happening here. We might not see it everyday, but stories like this prove that it is true. Look at organizations such as Free The Slaves and Love 146 and International Justice Mission. Will we, in this nation that is suppose to be "The Land of the Free", put up with this kind of crap?