Visiting Our Sponsor Child in El Salvador

adventure, Beautiful, Christian, Christian womanhood, marriage

 

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For seven years we’ve sponsored a (now) young woman named Briseida in El Salvador through Compassion International. If you’re not familiar with Compassion, it’s an organization that partners with local churches and families in communities all over the world, fighting poverty and equipping children with an education, skills, and savings accounts (to name a few things!), as well as giving them access to doctors and dentists. Most importantly, the mission is to offer the hope of a brighter future in the name of Jesus.

All these years Briseida has been writing us long letters and sending us drawings. A few years ago she asked us to come visit. I was pregnant at the time and the Zika virus was a threat, so we couldn’t go, but a few weeks ago, we did it! We went to see “our” sweet girl. Mountains of paperwork, along with much thought and financial resources went into this trip–from setting up our will to travel release forms for my parents to the U.S. Embassy website advising us to change our plans due to the general violence in the country. Yikes! We belabored, asked advice, prayed, and went.

Leaving Talitha was so hard, but the time Eric and I spent together (even the stressful and chaotic) was so beautiful and growth-filled for our marriage. I’ll save the touristy days for another post, but I’m so excited to share about our final day in the country, the day we met Brieseida, her mom, her brother, and all the lovely people at her “project” (the Compassion center).

For those wondering, the project is not an orphanage, it’s a huge facility where children come to learn the Bible, music, English, and various other skills like using the computer, cosmetology, chocolate-making, shoe-making, etc. From what I understood, there is a public education system in El Salvador, but it’s half-day, and the project allows the children to receive extra coaching, teaching, and preparation to succeed (along with medical aid).

We both had butterflies as we rode the bumpy and wild ride to get to the project. Such anticipation! Upon our arrival, we were met with children holding signs and waving flags, a few little girls dressed in traditional dresses. They cheered and I tried to take in this moment while somehow not wanting so much focus on us. Simultaneously looking for Briseida and trying to enjoy each of the children was a sweet little challenge. The host told us to follow her up a flight of stairs. Then we heard someone call out and turned around to see Briseida standing in front of us.

There she was, a good four inches taller than me, long dark hair and a bit shy. She grabbed my hand as I said, “Mucho gusto” and she repeated the sentiment then began whispering to me in Spanish. In that moment I so regretted how years ago I’d stopped practicing. I had to tell her (irony of ironies) in Spanish that I didn’t speak much Spanish. After a little welcome program and tour of her amazing project (which also employs Briseida’s mom!), we went to her home.

Walking into her home, we saw our framed picture, and my hands flew to my mouth. What a precious sight to see–so humbling and sweet. Sitting with the translator we talked and shared beautiful moments that will stay deep in my heart for as long as I live.

We later went out for pizza and Facetimed with Talitha (Briseida was sad she wasn’t there, since she considers Talitha her little sister). After lunch Briseida’s tutor showed us her file–so impressive the amount of detailed records they keep. Our girl is a star performer! After lunch it was back to the project for prayer and final hugs. Also tears–so many tears.

I think Eric would agree that besides days like our wedding day or Talitha’s birth, this day was one of the best days ever. Praise God for this good gift. We are just one small part of Briseida’s success. So many love her and we are humbled to parter alongside them. If you’re interested in sponsoring a child yourself, go here. Do you already sponsor one or a few? Be sure to write them! According to the tutors, it means a lot. Enjoy a few snapshots from this special day.

Keep the Faith,

Audrey Ann

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Fields of Salt Water and Oceans of Corn

adventure, Christian, Christian womanhood, Culture, family, Heritage, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Island life

An ocean of prairie grass billows and the wagon sways like a ship, heavy with hope. Those brave pioneers crossed miles and miles to claim a new land as their own, as their home. Ever since I was a little girl, their stories have drawn me in, but little did I know how they would define me. 
It is going on five years since I boarded that United plane bound for the Pacific island of Guam. I was a little girl, really, en route to my destiny, an adventure I could not resist. I did some teaching and some falling in love. Now I am married and this is my home. 
It hit me the day I got my driver’s license, the day my husband first teased me about my local accent, and the day I felt more comfortable chatting with local firefighter’s wives than military wives who were pining for Starbucks and Target. This, this quirky place infused with island, Asian, and military culture was home.
If you search for “Guam Scenery” on Pinterest, your eyes will feast on striking beaches, the bluest waves, and breathtaking cliff lines. And they are real! However, those, lovely as they are, do not make this place my home. I would bet that Pinterest will not show you my humble studio apt in the jungle. Yes, the jungle. It will not show you the crazy roosters and my neighbor shouting at the other neighbors who have an all-out rock concert at 1am.

 On vacation. Did I cry when I saw the cornfields? Yes. Yes, I did.

I have struggled with how to make this place my home. A lot of my prized possessions are in the States–in plastic totes my parents are gracious enough to keep. I have thrown away a lot of things along the way, just like my pioneers who braved the west. They threw over heavy chests and other heirlooms that carried too much weight. So have I. But they clutched the lighter items, the quilts, the china, and stored them in their homes of sod and timber. A semblance of their past married the reality of their future. And it was home.
The days I have compared Guam to the Mainland and all that I miss and what I want at my disposal, those have been miserable days. And the days I have pretended to not miss Indiana and just embrace island life with no looking back, those have been dishonest days.
Truth is, I have made this place my home because this place has changed me. The people changed me. I let them change me. In order for a place to be home, you must embrace both your past, your present, and the juxtaposition that it brings. Yes, I now have a twinge of an accent, I kiss those I meet (save military) on the cheek, and I love red rice. But I also still love my blue and white china I brought in my carry on, and anything else antique and English. Every Christmas I make my aunt’s cinnamon rolls. My bookshelf boasts some old Shakespeare books from my great grandpa. 
It is possible to have the ocean and miss cornfields. I know. But it is also possible to be thankful for both. I am a heartland girl turned island girl. And because I am choosing to embrace my past and my now, I can always be at home. For in the end, Jesus is with me, and He is my home.

Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann


All photo credits (besides #1 already noted) belong to Eric and Audrey Ann Masur. Please do not copy unless given permission.

Liberation of the Soul

Captivity, Christian, Culture, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Island life, Jesus, Liberation, Liberation Day, Liberty
Today is the 71st Liberation Day on Guam. We celebrate the freedom of our island and honor the sacrifices made. Copious amounts of red rice, ribs, and finadene will be consumed. Fireworks will blast all night, and my dogs will go crazy. It will be a loud and lovely day as we remember.  Liberation is beautiful, because captivity is ugly.
He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins” 
(Colossians 1:13-14)

And I think about my soul and every soul, bound, captive before Jesus Christ. The liberation He offers is perfect and beautiful, because our captivity to sin is horrific. But sometimes I forget that He is our only hope. Sometimes I think that people earn their favor with God by being nice and obeying all the rules.

The lie about soul liberation is that we can earn it.

We churched ones can grow up wearing the idea, wearing it like clothing against our chests, that people can attain perfection in and of themselves. Every day we have donned these rags. Others earn our respect based on how well they obey all the rules–or how much it looks like they are, and we earn theirs the same way.

This garment is tight and restricting; we are suffocated, our breath of joy restrained. Too distracted by these binding clothes to understand true love, we are robbed of knowing who Jesus is.

Legalism can be accidental, but it is still deadly.

We believe there is a formula, a checklist, that if followed, will constitute success, respect, forgiveness. The formula becomes our god, the checklist our security blanket.

Bowing to the religion of us, we forget.

“For it is by grace…” Grace, this warrior word that defies our human prejudices and presuppositions. Grace that crashes us to our knees in relief. On our knees has always been our strongest place, because it is the place where His hand extends.

But sometimes I avoid it, because I prefer to make it about me. Grace is always about Jesus.

The joy of Jesus’ death and resurrection is that we needed it. If we could earn our way there, what does the rest even mean?

Does His grace demand our love and, in turn, obedience? Of course. But the fight for the liberation of our souls has already been fought on the cross (Romans 10:9-10, Philippians 3:4-11). And that is a reason to surrender and celebrate!

Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann

Photo credit: http://www.nps.gov

This Fraud: Some Thoughts on Sex [Appeal]

Christian, love, marriage, Sex

It is the beat of every drum, the rhythm of every song, and the butt of every joke–sex. We can’t even sell a hamburger without giving a little peek-show. Men and women struggle to see themselves beyond how appealing they are–for sex. Cosmo offers up hundreds of new ways to be satisfied–in sex.
And while we swallow it up, it is we who are consumed. 
The Tempter has taken this precious, valid, and fun gift of God and twisted it into something the very opposite of God’s plan. Our Father gave us bread, but the Prince of the Earth gave us rocks. And we keep  gnawing on them–choking them down like we are dogs. Growing up in a Christian home and church, I knew sex in marriage was okay, but it still seemed like a dirty word–it seemed more like a Satan-word than a God-word. 
The innuendo of movies and TV shows is rarely of married sex, but rather forbidden sex–glorified affairs, uncontrolled passions, and people taking their clothes off in a way that they must have practiced a hundred times, seriously. It is ridiculous.
Bachelor and bachelorette parties become a “last hurrah” a.k.a orgy, because apparently sex inside the confines of marriage is never going to be as fun as sex outside of it.
And we believe. 
The intensity of these lies has continued to build, social norms have shifted, and nothing is off-limits.
Under the guise of liberation, women have succumbed to objectification. Confusing fiction with reality, we flaunt our bodies and say we have every right–men should get over it. What we forget is that we do not get to define what it means to be dignified, what it means to be human. God already did that.
What a dichotomy it is–we say we want to be appreciated for our minds, but we make the focus of our persona bulging breasts or a swaying booty. And yes, a man’s mind is his business, not ours, but we are fools if we think we can will his brain to work differently when he see us scantily clad. Susan Fiske, professor of psychology at Princeton University, presented some some fascinating/horrifying research on the subject. Look it up.
Girls, if we want men to see us as more than our anatomy, then we must first believe that, indeed, we are. True beauty is that of an honest smile and the light in joyful eyes. It is found in the love of Jesus Christ revealed through our everyday lives. 
Perhaps you have killer legs and perfect hair. Good for you! But this is not who you are. We berate men for objectifying us, but the truth is, we have also objectified ourselves. Placing our value in ten pounds lost or gained, in the size of our bra, or a new outfit, we are left hollow. 
Satan lures us all to a harem–to sell ourselves, telling us this is all we have to offer, our bodies as instruments of sensuality. But we know there is more; there has to be more. 
In the Christian circle we have hammered the “modesty” topic into the ground. But whether we wear full-length skirts or cut-off jean shorts, we must always check ourselves to examine if we are believing the lie. Dear girl, your body (and the way you present it) is important, but it is not who you are. 
So scoff at Satan’s version of sex and what he says about your worth. It is a bunch of malarky. Embrace the truth of what God has said.
Go ahead, reread Song of Songs, and enjoy good, married sex.
Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann
“Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own” (1 Corinthians 6:19, ESV).
Photo credit: Google Images/pccwired.org

The Wonder and Antics of Advent

Advent, children, Christian, Christmas, encouragement, eternal perspective, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jesus

It is that beautiful waiting–that stomach-fluttering sensation with eyes wide open in bed. Christmas is coming. The house feels stuck in time with a soft glow as Mama and Dad shuffle around downstairs. I can hear Mama say, “Jon, where’s that other roll of tape?” Christmas is tomorrow. Breathing deeply I can still smell the candle-blown-out smell from my Christmas Eve candle I got to carry to bed all by myself.  
About once a week leading up to Christmas, our family would do Advent devotionals. Sometimes we missed a week, and sometimes we forgot and only did it Christmas Eve, but it was always so special and so important. There was the gold wreath, holding four candles and one in the middle– one for each of us to light. Dad would read scripture verses about Jesus in Isaiah and Luke, and one of my brothers would attempt to blow out the candles with puffs of breath, pretending to hide his antics from Dad. We snickered and shifted, trying to find a comfy position on the floor.  There was a warmth and anticipation that enveloped us in our flannel pajamas and slippers we had outgrown years ago. My family has this thing with traditions.
Those advent devotionals taught me about living in remembrance of the Gospel and never forgetting the holiness and specialness of our Lord, our continual inadequacy, and His continual love. Now I realize that those nights were a picture of our lives.  Even though we can sit still better than when we were young, we never truly grow out of our antics. We recognize the glory of God, but still seem to fidget with the cares of this world, both the things we love and the things we fear. 
In Christ’s holiness and in the expectancy of His second coming, we are less than we should be. We wiggle and squirm, our mannerisms often irreverent. But He came all the same. He came to glorify the Father and save us. So recognize the beauty of this moment and take a few to remember and wait, remember how He came and wait with joy for His return. Maybe you’re worried that you did not get so-and-so a good present, or maybe you can’t find the other roll of tape. It’s okay. Light a few candles for Advent, read some scriptures, and let the flame remind you of the Light of the World who came to rescue you and will descend again. Christmas is coming.

Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann
P.S. Interested in trying an Advent devotional (in addition to scripture reading)? It’s not too late! Here are a few ideas:
Image Credit: Google Images/mattressessale.eu

Charlie Brown and Christianese

authenticity, bilingual, Charlie Brown, Christian, Christianese, church, language

In high school and college I took Spanish as part of my foreign language requirement. However, there is no way on earth I would dub myself “bilingual.” Yes, I am one of those sad people who only really knows English and was nerdy enough to make it my major. Living on Guam makes me painfully aware of how many people typically have a few languages they can whip out, if needed. But lately I have come to realize that I am, indeed, bilingual and my second language is “Christianese.” 
There is nothing intrinsically wrong with using “Chrisianese” terms, so long as they are theologically correct (“saved by the blood,” “repented of sins,” etc). However, sometimes the language can become one of hindrance, but not just to those who are not Christians, but to those who are. For those of you who have been or are church-goers, let’s be honest, when you go to church you want to present you best self, your best smile, your best outfit. And that is fine. You want to contribute something deep and say all the right things in your Sunday school class or a leadership training session. 
The trouble is that sometimes when we want a good reputation or a good slur of Christianese phrases more than we really want Jesus. Some of the most prideful people I have ever met have been regular church attenders, and I am one of the offenders. What if a person can spout all the right things and does love Jesus, but has a hidden struggle, sin, or addiction? Where is he or she to go? Who will speak hope?
A favorite Christmas movie of my family’s is A Charlie Brown Christmas. I love the part where Charlie Brown is trying to earn the approval of his peers by directing the Christmas play and picking out the best Christmas tree. But he just can’t. Their approval is elusive, and he cracks. “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?!” he cries. “Sure, Charlie Brown” his trusty friend Linus says, after he takes his thumb out of his mouth. And he precedes to quote Luke 2:8-14. Charlie Brown was honest and humble enough to ask, and Linus was compassionate enough to answer. He loved his friend, and he wanted to offer him hope–not the hope of his perfection or having the perfect words, but the hope of Jesus come to earth.
I’m preaching to myself on this one. Goodness, how I have always desired for others to think well of me. Due to attending church since I was a baby and always being educated under a Christian institution, I am inevitably fluent in Christianese. And that’s okay, as long as I remember to also be fluent in humility and remember that there is not a single person whose hope rests in my ability to always look put together or say the right thing. Hope always rests in the God Man Jesus Christ. He adorned humility in the womb of a young girl, in the manger of a cave, and on the cross of Calvary, and He spoke the language of hope. 
Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann

Image credit: Charles M. Schulz/Free Google Images/blog.chateaugranville.com

Multicultural Manners: The Art of Kindness on Guam

Christian, Christian womanhood, etiquette, Guam, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, island, kindness, manners

When I was a teenager, I came across a 1st edition of Emily Post’s Etiquette. Being a lover of old books, I glanced through it and was overwhelmed with all the details and rules about how to conduct oneself in society, how to set a table, how to do nearly everything, it seemed. 


Several years later my interest in the subject grew, and I was encouraged by a dear friend who is a certified Protocol and Etiquette consultant (you should visit her fabulous blog). I bought books and did research on all things “Protocol and Etiquette.” To my delight, I learned that etiquette is not merely about how to set a gorgeous table, but how to respect others and offer them kindness with everyday interactions.


On Guam there are many cultural differences, but kindness is universal. We all desire it, and we all have the potential to give it, if we make some effort. When I first came to Guam (about four years ago), I was excited to learn about new people and customs, but I was also afraid. 


It seemed so easy to offend others, if I did not know their traditions. However, since I was a teacher, I was reminded through the interaction with my students that we all desire the same thing, no matter our culture or ethnicity: we all desire kindness.

Friends need not share the same culture, as long as they share a similar kindness.



Sometimes we read the news and feel baffled by all the negative events that are taking place in the world right now. But we should not forget that we, too, influence this world. Let’s influence it for good. Whether it’s holding the door, putting down your cellphone for a conversation, or smiling at a passing stranger, we can all help our island (and our world) be a kinder, well-mannered place.


However, how can you do this is in a multicultural setting? How do you have “good manners” when different social norms dictate different practices? While it would take many years to grasp all the nuances of the various cultures on Guam, there are certain manners than can transcend cultural boundaries, and help our island be an even lovelier place than it already is. It’s a fun challenge! The love of God extends throughout culture and color. Therefore, so should our kindness and awareness.


Manners matter because people matter. Although I have made (and will continue to make) mistakes with regard to manners, the goal is to keep learning and spreading kindness along the way. Emily Post said, “Manners are a sensitive awareness to the feelings of others. If you have that awareness, you have good manners, no matter what fork you use.”

Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann

image credit: retroette.com


Planning on Porn and Planning to Die: Lies We Believe

Brittany Maynard, Christian, Hope, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jennifer Lawrence, Jesus

“Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? 
You are not your own…”
1 Corinthians 6:19


Besides the horrors of ISIS, Ebola, and the constant turmoil that is Washington D.C., two other stories have shoved to the front of the line. The first is about a young woman, Brittany Maynard, who is planning to legally take her life in a few weeks, and the other is about Jennifer Lawrence and how she addressed the nude pictures of herself that were shared against her will, saying that in a long distance relationship, either your boyfriend will view you or pornography.


First of all, let me be clear that I have NO IDEA what it must feel like to have terminal brain cancer, facing fears for your family and loved ones, and living with a body that is very much not under your control. And I am very sorry for Laurence and the embarrassment and pain this crime against her has caused. Both of these women seem to be seeking dignity with their lives, and seeking to help others who are having similar struggles. I commend them for that.


In certain articles, both of the stories included the word “Beautiful” in the titles. However, there is an underlying, sad kind of ugliness to them that cannot be masked with the false veil of heroism. The wrapping may be pretty, but the gift is a nightmare. 


These stories have a common denominator: they both attempt to answer the question, “What does it mean to be human?” This is one of the BIG questions of life, a catch phrase in my Worldview class, and generally something I tend to throw into conversations only to hear a very loud lull. 

But what does it mean to be human? If human life is all about what we want and how we choose to make ourselves happy, then why not end your life early, and why not send nude pictures across your phone or even share those photos with others? And as in the case of Maynard, you might financially help out your family. This could appear like a good choice, the right choice. 


We as Americans are people of choice. Don’t you dare take away my choices, fool! This is ‘MURICA. I deserve my “me” time, my Starbucks, and my organic-super-expensive skincare. This is my body, and I can do what I want with it AND with any other life inside of it. So there. 


But it doesn’t work that way. It just doesn’t. The truth is that our bodies are not our own. And this makes them infinitely more special than if they were just ours, mere accidents having evolved from oozing muck. Instead, we were purposely formed from the mire, each one of us known by the Creator. Our days are numbered by Him, and our bodies are supposed to be for His glory, not meat for men. God gave us a purpose and a role as unique, choice-making beings. This is what it means to be human.

“Planned dying” could lead the way for other horrors to be legalized or even mandated. These kind of stories tend to have a ripple effect. And you don’t have to show your boyfriend pornography of yourself to keep him. In fact, if he asks, you should certainly lose him…and fast.


Again, my heart goes out to both women. I wish I could tell them that Jesus Christ loves them, and and that there is another way, a better way. His always is.


Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann

Photo Credit: Marvelous Things Photography by Tori Watson

Hosting Is Scary

Christian, hosting, Jesus

“Nobody cares!” I told her. “The house looks fine.”  I huffed and puffed, while my mom continually cleaned the house before guests would arrive. Back then I prided myself on my “chill” attitude about people coming to visit. And then I got married and had my own place. 
I have been married just over a year, and due to our home being a studio apartment, there was a time I felt we could not truly host like I wanted. Instead of seeing the potential, I saw the inadequacies. I saw the tiny indoors, instead of the plentiful yard. But once I was able to see the potential, my husband and I dubbed ourselves the “Bonfire People.” He dug a fire pit, we bought a few chairs, a fold-up table, and some pretty, twinkly lights. And before long, we had a cute little outdoor setting.
Besides, we all know that true hospitality has little to do with the house, and more to do with the heart of the home–what you feel as you walk in, the way you are greeted, and invited to relax. The most beautiful thing about your home cannot be purchased. 
I have been able to experience true hospitality from several families. They had very different houses, but they all made me feel like I was both a special visitor and that I was one of the family. 
In particular, I had just flown from Guam to Texas for my friend’s wedding. We all stayed at her future in-laws. The large, country home was bursting at the seams with wedding paraphernalia and people. And even in the clamor, their home was so very welcoming, and I felt so very comfortable.
About the second day, I was delirious from the 13 hour time difference, and stayed back one afternoon to nap, while everyone else ran around finishing wedding details. Shuffling downstairs to the kitchen, I found myself opening the pantry door to rummage around for a snack. I thought to myself, “Audrey Ann! What are you doing? You don’t even know these people! Your mother would be ashamed!”
But the beauty of their home was the way I felt free to find a snack in their pantry, and they way they invited me for morning coffee on their porch, the day before their son’s wedding. In essence, the beauty of their home was that they cared; they cared about me.
If the goal of hosting is to show off your home or your cooking skills or even (in our case) your bonfire-making skills, you have missed the point. It is always about showing people the love and care of Jesus. As my pastor said, “Make your home an embassy for Christ.” I would also add, make it a haven. There is so much craziness in this world, and so many people need a place where they are safe, cared for, and can even rummage through your pantry (on rare occasions like jet lag).
Keep the Faith,
Audrey Ann

Photo 1: Google Images/dwnloadwallpapers.com
Photo 2: Norman Rockwell/Google Images/mosbybuildingarts.com

What My Puppy’s Death Taught Me

Christian, Death, http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post, Jesus, thanksgiving

Remember my first installment of “Weekend Wonders” where I talked about the puppies? Since then I have come to recognize, even more, the importance of always thanking God in the moment and loving those around us, taking no gift for granted.
Within a period of four days, my husband and I lost two of “our” puppies to Parvo (it seems). The dogs technically belonged to a neighbor, but we trained them, loved on them, and helped take care of them. They shared our front porch and greeted us at the gate. But they were not ours, and so we did not decide whether or not they went to the vet for their shots. And perhaps they would have become sick, regardless.
Staying up late into the night with the little puppy as she suffered, wheezed, and bled, I realized that my precious little Beanie was a picture of this world. She was a picture of our lives. An adorable, sweet, baby puppy was dying a painful death. In our world there is fleeting beauty and innocence, but it is vulnerable to sickness and will never survive on this side of heaven. 
In Keep a Quiet Heart, Elisabeth Elliot said, “…God has allowed in the lives of each of us some sort of loss, the withdrawal of something we valued, in order that we may learn to offer ourselves a little more willingly, to allow the touch of death on one more thing we clutched so tightly, and to know fullness and freedom and joy that much sooner. We’re not naturally inclined to love God and seek His Kingdom. Trouble may help to incline us–that is, it may tip us over, put some pressure on us, lean us in the right direction.”
On Sunday we said goodbye to some dear friends who are leaving the island–their kids are bundles of joy, and the husband and wife are good friends and examples to us. We really love them. 
Today I broke one of my favorite tea cups. It shattered all over the floor with the sharpest crash.

These are small losses. Believe me, I know. I have watched people bury their little children. I have watched people die of cancer. I have watched mothers become widows. 
But I have also watched God give new life and love to those who knew such grief.
There are bleak days and there are sunny days, but certain losses will always, in our hearts, penetrate both. Just remember that Jesus is with His children. And He is coming back. Let that hope and this world’s pain lean you closer to Him. Of all the beauties in this life, He is the most beautiful.
Keep the Faith, 
Audrey Ann