Writing again

I'm back baby!!

Caption Please

Year Six In the Books

Here's a quick list of everything that's happened in this year of our marriage:

- Claire Kate was born

- Began working with e3 Partners

- Quit working at Concord

- Trey turned two

- Mr. Mugsy went to doggy heaven

These are some pretty major life altering events! Having babies, massive career changes, gains and losses. Walking through these things with Holly was a God-given blessing. No other woman would put up with me. No other woman would be so giving or understanding. No other hand would fit so perfectly in mine down this road of life. She's a terrific mother, and even better wife. My ministry would be impossible without her participation and support. Few wives would be real excited about her husband quitting a stable job with benefits to raise support and work in the most dangerous and volatile region on the planet. Mine encouraged me along the path to follow God regardless of where it lead, and consistently lifts me up on the days I want to throw in the towel. I'm grateful that when things are spinning out of control she's spinning with me. God has taught us a lot about faith and the failure of self-reliance. He's also showing us the magnitude of His Faithfulness, Protection, and Love.

Holly, you're more than I could have ever dreamed up. You inspire me to continue my pursuit of our Savior all the while forgetting my shortcomings. You amaze me with your strength, and support. I appreciate all that you do. I can't imagine a better mom, friend, helper, or lover. I'm yours! Here's to the next year and all that it might bring. I stand unafraid to face what comes knowing our Leader never fails, and our bond never falters. Baby, I love you!

My Friends The Harper's

Hey blog friends. I want to introduce you to some friends of mine. There names are Greg, Lisa, and Jackman Harper. They are awesome! Jackman is a new arrival, who showed up exactly like God planned for him to, but it caught the rest of us a little off guard. I don't want to spoil any of it, so go read it for yourself. Plan to be encouraged by the faith of a young family. You're likely gonna laugh and cry as Holly and I have, but more than anything, I think you'll see the majesty and glory of a God and King that loves us as His children. Pray for this family in the days to come, and be an encouragement to them. Here's their blog http://harpertimes.blogspot.com/.

Sister is a Copycat!

Me and Claire Kate's new game. You may have to watch it in Youtube because the size is off on the blog (sorry). Just click the video and it should take you to the site. Tomorrow I'll start posting some Israel stuff. Hope you enjoy this!!

A Few Peru pics

Kids that live on the street.

Iquitos

The only road out of the city. It's 100 km long, and this is km 56.

Houses on the Amazon.

Evening learning group.

A cool sunset and loving people.

The Catholic Church at night.

I haven't had an opportunity to do any post production on these photos. The church and the road pictures gave me an opportunity to play around with some long exposure times (shutter speed on the road was about 30 seconds). Anyway, I'd appreciate any of my photographer friends giving me some constructive criticism on these pics, so as to make me better on the next go round.

My Dad

I had a good dad growing up. He made time for us, taught us right from wrong, and loved us. He still is a great dad, and loving Grandfather to my kids.

If I could pick one attribute of my father to display to my kids, it would be the love he showed to us through the time he spent with us. It taught me a lot about the love God has for us, and I would guess that much of what I believe about my heavenly father came as a result of my relationship with my dad. 

Every now and then my pops makes his way over here to read these posts, and I want to say a public "Thank You" for the security you provided, the display of Godly manhood, and the things you continue to teach me about loving my own children. I love you Dad, you were and are a blessing from God!

What about your father do you want to mimic to your own children?

Tour Day, Part 2

In case you missed yesterday's post read it first, so that today's is in clear perspective and context. You can click here to read it...

After Monkey Island, there was a sense that things couldn't get any worse. We were wrong!

On the way into see our not-so friendly primate friends, David pointed out the Indian village we would soon visit. It appeared to be only about 10 minutes away, and would give a few of our team the opportunity to visit the facilities, so to speak. However, we quickly passed by the dock where we were supposed to stop, and a sudden sense came over me that we were going to see a different village. David mentioned that we must be going to a different Indian tribe, and we began to inquire of Freddy as the the whereabouts of our next encounter. To my great sadness, we would be returning to our original dock for more fuel, then another 15 minutes to meet the Bora Tribe. That's right, another hour and forty-five minute boat ride.

After running aground 3 times (sudden jerks are not good on loose bowels) on the way back, we finally had more fuel. The Amazon turned into a tributary, and as we continued into some smaller canals, Freddy pointed out the place where we would soon get to hold some Anacondas (that's right, Anacondas). Up ahead I could see the tops of a few thatch roofed huts, and got the affirmation that these were indeed the home to the Bora people. As we approached the dock I was enjoying the beautiful everglade-like scenery, when from the back of the boat I hear, "Are those boobies?" Now just this phrase alone has enough awkwardness to throw you into a "What is happening?" type moment. As I begin to get my bearings from being blindsided by that that word making an appearance, I look ahead in disbelief at the woman on the docks. We're still a good 75 yards away, but it's pretty apparent that this 60 something year-old lady is covering herself with only a loin cloth. In my mind I began to scramble. I had the thought, "I'm responsible for this team. I need to do something!" So, I did something... Stared... Ahead... At the lady.

Have you ever passed by a wreck on the interstate? You could tell from a distance that it was bad, and there was the possibility you would see something that would forever wreck your life, and give you bad dreams for weeks? Yeah. I stared. I would have glared longer but 15 completely naked children running around made me come out of my trance. I was in complete disbelief and shock. We were LIVING National Geographic. You can say what you want about their culture, but it ain't our culture, and as much as they are used to running around swinging in the breeze, we are not, and we are even more not used to seeing it. I could not believe this was happening. If we had been warned, it would have been one thing, but we weren't. I was just daydreaming and thinking how neat this all was when I heard the "b" word and saw it's reference point up ahead.

The village is made up of river huts. They are on the river, but exist on stilts, so to go anywhere you walk on planks. These planks were constructed with 4' 10", 145 pound Bora Indians in mind, and not 6'2", 215 pounds of pure table muscle. So, to walk across the 50 yards worth of planks was adventure enough of it's own. Little did I know the real adventure started at the entrance to the hut where we were greeted by 15 or 20 naked ladies. To be fair, they all had on loin clothes, but does that really qualify? I don't know that it would have been any more awkward if they had no covering at all. Anyway, they began to put necklaces and head dresses on us, which meant that I would have to bend way over (yes, this added to the uneasiness of it all). So in a neck turned and twisted state, as to miss facial contact with baby feeders, I received my new apparel and entered the tent to see what else might happen.

I looked at the ground a lot, but noticed Greg when he walked in. They had given him the designation of Chief, and his head dress was very ornate and big. Greg was still pretty upset about his earlier monkey attack and the ever increasing tension of this newest experience was not making him feel any better. But it got worse, quickly.

Freddy began telling us about the Bora people, how long they had lived there, how they maintained the area, what dialect they spoke, etc. Then he said these words, which I don't know if I will ever forget. He said, "They would like to show you some of their tribal dances. They will include you in the dance, and it is seen as VERY offensive if you do not participate." "Really? This is not happening," I thought. I looked at Greg, and his face went from slightly perturbed to an all out sense of helplessness, as did the rest of the team. These naked people were gonna dance, which was strange enough, but now we were gonna be involved. Seriously involved.

As they began to dance, the first person they grabbed was their chief, Greg. During his walk up to the dance area he shouted death threats at David and myself. We laughed, David filmed, it was a great time. One by one the team was personally pulled up to take part in an ancient dance of the Bora people. At one point I thought, "This is pretty neat. How many people get to experience this kind of culture, or do anything remotely like this outside of a strip joint? Nobody, that's who. But here we are, hand in hand with some naked people doing a dance to a chant I can't understand." So, I just kept glancing from the floor to Greg enjoying the moment in the only two safe places I could look without feeling dirty. David got two videos of this, and several pictures to document the occasion. I didn't load them on here, but if you want to see them they are posted to facebook.

What else needs to be said, really? I don't know many people who could honestly say, "I went on a mission trip, and while I was there we lead some people to Christ, did some discipleship, planted a few churches, oh, and I danced with some naked ladies." Never heard that at a missions conference, or during a trip report at a church. When we sat down, David asked if we would share this with the church. "Yeah, I doubt it," I said, "but you can bet your loin cloth and topless Boras it's going on the blog." You're welcome... you're welcome.

Tour Day, Part 1

This all started on Saturday. None of the team could afford a real Amazon tour, so David Chism, or fearless leader, set up a home grown tour day for us. During lunch he saw a local guy named Freddy that he had worked with before, and asked him if he could set up an excursion for us on the Amazon River. Around a half hour later Freddy returned to give us a quote for such a trip, which would take place at 8 am the following Friday. We would visit Monkey Island, an Indian Village, and get to see some real life Anacondas. The group seemed amiable to the price and attractions, with only a few unhappy mumblings over the possible snake encounter, so we decided to go for it. We had no idea what lie ahead...

Friday morning we arrived at the boat docks at 8 am, but we were in Peru, so we knew that we would likely not leave until 8:30 (This is not a knock, just a realization that there is a difference in U.S. time and Peruvian time). When 8:30 rolled around we were still boatless, and I could tell Freddy was getting a little nervous. He hinted that he didn't think his reserved captain would be able to make it, so he rented a different, less sophisticated vessel for us to tame the great Amazon beast. We rode for 30 minutes. When I inquired as to the whereabouts of this famed Monkey Island, Freddy responded that we were still a good 50 minutes away. Perhaps it would be beneficial to mention here that more than half of the people who were on the boat were severely stricken with Montezuma's revenge, present company not excluded, and were not prepared for such a long aquatic journey. Nevertheless, with beats of sweat forming rapidly on our foreheads, we pressed onward.

The next time I checked my watch I realized we had traveled about an hour and a half, ten minutes farther than the expected time to reach Monkey Island. Freddy began to inquire of the boat driver where he was going, only to find out that he wasn't entirely sure where the specific location of said primate isle might be. We spotted a young child washing clothes on the bank of the river and floated over to get some decent directions. I never heard any words exchanged, but evidently a good hand motion does the trick because we were there in about 15 minutes.

I hate to inform you that I had some horribly incorrect presuppositions about this island of monkeys. In my mind, it was a wonderfully sunny place where our primate cousins existed in cages for us to gander at and photo. Oh no, I was WAY off. This place was a dark corner of the world where these creatures were allowed to roam free like us humans. They are free to grab you, or jump on your person, or throw their little doo doo balls at you with stunning accuracy.

We had not gotten off of the boat good when a red howler monkey walked up to Holly with his manlike hands in the air. She asked what he wanted, but in the blink of an eye, he was up on her shoulders laying across her back. In a moment where I should have been thinking of all the snide remarks I could have made about getting the not-so proverbial monkey off your back, all I could say was, "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to touch them." Holly nervously begged, "Get it off me!" and being her knight in shining armor, with a touch of chivalry, I added, "Nuh uh, I ain't touching that thing, I don't like animals. Especially ones that have hands like me." Little did we know the fun was only just beginning. Seconds later Freddy, our tour guide, was attacked by two black spider monkeys. One jumped on each of his arms and began biting him. He was able to sling them to the ground, and they made their way into a nearby tree. My friend Greg happened by that tree and the two ninja-like monsters jumped down on his head. They commenced to whooping up on Greg by pulling his hair, beard, and sunglasses. They went digging in his backpack, bit his ear, and finally came to a place of rest on his arms before he slung them off while screaming, "I'm gonna punch you in the face and knock you out!" As they ran off with a monkey giggle, Greg said, "That's it! I'm ready to leave Monkey Island RIGHT NOW!"

We managed to separate Holly from her monkey, Rusa, and we made for a small building to get some cover from the little gorillas. Rusa would not be denied as he pulled apart some of the roof to get in after Holly, his new girlfriend. While we were in the building one of the team members asked me how I escaped having the monkeys get on me, and I explained that one of those spider monkeys had reached for my hand and I slapped him in his little monkey face as I explained that I wasn't playing around with him, and that I would body slam him as an example to the rest of his friends if he didn't go on. He must have spread the word because none of them tried anything else. We safely made it out to the boat, foolishly thinking that the worst part of the day was over, but we were wrong. What lie ahead would change our lives as we knew it...

Until Part 2 tomorrow, here's evidence of this small tale:

NEVER on a plane

I learned a couple of valuable lessons on this trip to Ecuador. The first was that you should never plan two trips back to back. It's too much! Another thing that I learned was far more sinister, and unforgettable. If you don't like my posts about bathroom things, now would be a good time for you to look away, and read someone else's blog. For the majority of you that find great joy and pleasure in my pain and stomach fails you may want to stick around.

I can sleep anywhere. Under any circumstances. Every trip that I ever took with students wrought a new picture with me asleep in interesting positions and places. The hum of a plane's engine might as well be Nyquil or Benadryl to me. I'm lucky if I make it off the runway awake. But on the flight home from Ecuador, I could not get comfortable. Then IT happened. Let me clarify...

Ecuador has possibly the best ice cream in the entire world. My stomach responds quite negatively to dairy products, but Ecuadorian ice cream is worth it. I had eaten massive amounts during the week with no consequence, but I couldn't let sleeping dogs lie. Saturday, late in the afternoon I made a poor decision. Someone said, "Let's go get one of those big ice cream cones one last time before we go home." At the time, this sounded like the greatest idea I had ever heard. Sure, I had a passing thought that it would be VERY bad to have an "episode" on the plane ride, but what could go wrong? I had eaten my weight in the stuff during the week, and nothing happened. This time would prove different.

At 3:30 am, 36,000 feet up, I awoke from a not-so-peaceful slumber mortified by what I knew was about to take place. There was no emergency landings, or turning the plane around. This was going to happen. My old friend, Cold Sweats was there with his good buddy Grinding Intestinal Pain. I spent a few minutes begging them to go away. I tried to rotate in my seat, sit up, lay back, lean forward, but there was no avoiding the inevitable. I was in a window seat, so I woke everyone up on my row as I scampered to the back of the plane praying for a miracle. God did NOT answer my prayer that night.

As I entered the 1 ft. x 1 ft. bathroom, I speedily made the necessary arrangements one does to be able to feel comfortable sitting in a place where others have stood, with bad aim. I quickly sat, and began to relieve pressure as quietly as possible. I thought things would be ok. I was wrong. We hit turbulence. Heavy. Turbulence. I gripped the sink and adjacent handle to try and hold myself down. Outside the lavatory I heard the Captain cut on the seat belt sign. I began to pray FERVENTLY something like this, "Dear Lord, I am begging you! Please commission an extra amount of gravity in this place right now. Let what has entered this toilet stay FIRMLY planted, never to rise! Lord, I will have a hard time giving thanks if you don't answer this prayer. Please send your angels to protect me...Amen!" Moments later things died down, but I was afraid.

As I left the tiny area, where I had confessed every sin, and made many promises and deals with God, I noticed people solemnly sleeping. They were oblivious to the danger that had existed only feet from them. They did not know of my torment and agony. They were ignorant of my groaning and near destruction. I made my way back to my seat angry with them and their peace. Soon, however, the hum of the turbine lulled me to sleep.

I record these things because in a month, I will be back in that land flowing with milk and honey almond ice cream. I will be faced with the same dilemma: To be overcome in the awesomeness of such a tasty delight, where evil is waiting, or to abstain and sleep well along with the others on my row. I want this to be here to remind me, so that I don't repeat former mistakes. But man, that cookies and cream was AMAZING...

The Dentist

Have you ever stopped and thought about the dentist? It's one of those things that if you weren't brought up in this culture you would think was extremely strange. We're conditioned to believe that it's completely normal, but it's not. 

They drill in your mouth. Every drill I've ever handled had pictures of marred stick figures that got the drill too close to their face. This tender cartoon was intended to let those who can't read know that drills should not be used too close to your face, much less in it. They stick sharp objects in your mouth. Pretty sure my mom told me never to do that. While all of those tools are in your mouth, they ask you questions, but somehow still know what you're saying when you respond. Personal space issues seem non-existent. This is all terribly strange.

To top it all off, we pay for these things. "Yeah," we think, "you deserve compensation for this." Nice. Real Nice.

Mother's Day

Every time I keep the babies by myself I have a greater respect for what Holly does day after day. Today I kept them while she went to a Peru fundraiser for our upcoming trip in June. It's one thing to watch the babies, but she watches them, cooks, cleans, maintains herself, and looks after her man. What a woman!

Baby, I love and appreciate you more than you know! You amaze me! I realize I tell you this, but I want everyone else to know how special I believe you are. I couldn't have dreamed of a better, more perfect wife, friend, or mother. Happy Mother's Day! I love you!

I'll Ask, You Answer

How do YOU deal with disappointment?

Your thoughts...

Melting Heart

Every night we go through the same routine. After bath time, Trey and I play in the floor while Holly feeds Claire Kate. At the end of our play time, kisses abound, as do "I love you" and "night, night." It is all very sweet and beautiful. I look forward to it every day. Tonight was more of the same. I carried Trey in his room and laid him in his bed. He wanted to hold Elmo and listen to his Veggie Tales cd, which was pretty normal. As I made my exit from the room, I went over, kissed him on the forehead, and told him "I love you Big Man." When I got to the door as I began to close it I heard, "Daddy?" "Yes Buddy?" "I love you."

It was so tender and sincere. My chest swelled up, and tears filled my eyes. He meant it from the bottom of his two year old heart.

Our routine is great. I love it, and the 16 times during the day when Trey tells me, "I love you" are all very special, but there was something different about tonight at that moment. Perhaps God is similar toward us as His children. No doubt He is likely pleased with our worship, and even our "I love you" routines. But there is this part of me that just realized it's those times when we break from typical, and stop normal life to say I love you that make the Heart of a Father melt.

Rats!

I have written ad nauseam about my dislike of animals here on Pertaining to all things Robertesque, but I once again feel the need to print that my least favorite of all the animal kingdom is rats. I mean, I really hate them! Not only that, if you like them, there is something wrong with you. Pet rats? Come on!

Anyway, today one was by my feet on the sidewalk outside. Holly spotted it and I shrieked like a little girl. It was tiny, but really, is there such a thing? There's no mice, only rats... and I hate all of them. So, I grabbed the shovel and in one swift move cut off it's head. I was slightly afraid that it might somehow jump on me. Not taking any chances, I left all of its body on the sidewalk in hopes that others might see it and continue past our house realizing that sure and certain demise meet all rodents in this abode. This is not true, because at the moment I see a rat in this house we are moving, plain and simple. But I want them to really wonder if coming in the Hope residence is the best choice for their little rat lives, with their crooked big teeth and beady eyes.

Gall Bladder Update

After all my tests came back, turns out there's nothing wrong with my gall bladder. It is fit as a fiddle. The doc said to watch what I eat. Haha. That's funny. I do that anyway. Not in the sense that I monitor a strict diet, I just post statuses on twitter about every meal, so I can later examine all that has been eaten. He also told me not to eat things that upset my stomach like Papa John's Pizza. That's not happening. In the future, I'll continue to decide if what I'm eating is going to be worth the pain I'll feel later.

Nice, real nice!

My First Photo Attempt

So I was commissioned to take some city photos for my first shoot. Here's the result. Some of my photog friends, begin your critique. I would like very much to improve.

Small

Last Saturday night Holly and I were hanging out with some friends of ours named Greg and Lisa. We like them. They are cool. 

It was during a very heated game of Spades (which Greg and I dominated), that the aforementioned Mr. Harper alluded to the fact that he recently began tracing his family lineage. This has always intrigued me, but I've never gotten too involved in the necessary actions to actually do a family tree. After we got finished destroying Holly and Lisa, Greg showed me ancestry.com. This was around 10 pm. At 2:30 am I had traced my Grandmother's maiden line back to 1279 in England. 1279. Unbelievable. That's like during the time of the Crusades. A contemporary of Genghis Khan (almost). It was before the Black Plague. America had not even been found, and would not be for another 220 years! I met some of my forerunners. They were an interesting bunch. The Hope family has had it's share of escaped convicts, aristocracy, and loons. 

Perhaps the thing that struck me the most while sifting through all of that history was how small I am. One in the midst of multitudes who were before me. The way that different families came together and produced offspring, that most of the time found a wife from a different family, to produce more offspring for generations and generations began to blow my mind. It is a miracle that I'm even here! I haven't been able to get over that feeling of smallness since that time. In the grand scheme of things, I'm quite insignificant. On the other hand, God is rather big... and long lasting. I wonder perchance if this is one of the reasons that lineages are mentioned in Scripture. To remind that generation in Israel that they were no big deal. God has been doing this for a while, and as much as we want to think that the world revolves around us, we are not the end all, or the pinnacle. Just another name in the line. 

Whatever Happened to Fortune Cookies?

"Leadership is an action. Not a position."

This was the "fortune" out of my fortune cookie. Dear friends this is not a fortune. It's a proverb. There's a difference. I don't want proverb cookies. I want free, stale tasting, non-sweet fortune cookies. You know, the ones with the lucky numbers on the back, and if your in real high cotton, the ones that teach you a Chinese word.

One of the previous fortune cookies I got said, "Please disregard your last fortune cookie." Seriously?!?!

Friends, it's time we take a united stand against proverb cookies! They are shameful imitations of a once treasured treat in many subpar chinese restaurants around this great land. I for one can take no more. Who's with me?

Bizarre Choices Part 4

Here's another bizarre choice from Zobmondo's Book of Bizarre Choices. Which would you pick?

Would you rather:

Always have to wear wet socks?

OR

Always have to wear wet underwear?