<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575</id><updated>2011-04-21T12:12:47.278-07:00</updated><title type='text'>About a Journey...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>36</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-4914145196762277835</id><published>2008-08-22T12:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T12:17:20.872-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Content Where You Are</title><content type='html'>I think I’ve finally reached a point where I’m ok with being here… I’ve been home for nearly two months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It partially feels like I’ve never left and it partially feels like I’m still a world away. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But regardless, I’m in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;California&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:State&gt; for now.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’ve told some stories and shared some photos but it’s impossible to encapsulate such an experience into a couple of hours over coffee.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s not logical to sit down with someone and pour out everything that has happened.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As I go about my daily life, I am always digging a bit deeper back into &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Fresno&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have a job.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m getting involved with a church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have my own apartment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m getting ready to start my last year at FPU.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A lot has changed but it’s time to jump back in, even though most days I’d like to be back in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Before I left &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;North America&lt;/st1:place&gt;, I was told that when God captures your heart for a country you will be able to weep for the nation and weep for its people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are some moments when a Spanish song comes up when my ipod is on shuffle, or when a Peruvian photo scrolls across as my screensaver, or even just a memory that seemed to be forgotten comes back that I can’t help myself but cry.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Especially now the concept of life seasons becomes important.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know that the journey I just walked was not a simple one and I have seen the hand of God in the midst of everything.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I pray that this journey isn’t finished.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But right now I just need the patience and the contentedness to accept where I am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-4914145196762277835?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/4914145196762277835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=4914145196762277835' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4914145196762277835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4914145196762277835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/08/be-content-where-you-are.html' title='Be Content Where You Are'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-9063406330862811629</id><published>2008-06-22T14:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-22T14:59:24.640-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything is in English.</title><content type='html'>I'm in North America.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm processing a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be home in less than a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything is in English here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-9063406330862811629?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/9063406330862811629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=9063406330862811629' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/9063406330862811629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/9063406330862811629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/06/everything-is-in-english.html' title='Everything is in English.'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-4426480753953442754</id><published>2008-06-14T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T21:46:24.522-07:00</updated><title type='text'>T Minues Two</title><content type='html'>48 more hours… Two more days.  We’ve had our last English class.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ve had our last night with the youth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We have one more church service.Tonight with the youth we got to celebrate: celebrate our time in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and the wonderful friends whom we have made.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We sang, heard Jano speak, Lisa and I got to thank everyone for playing an amazing role in our lives, and then the pastoral staff called us all up and handed us each a bag to open.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Inside we found a t-shirt that had our photo, a map of &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and the words “Kutimnukichu?”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In that moment, I lost it… I started crying.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But I had the opportunity to pray with some of my friends whom I’ve gotten to share life with over these past three and a half months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We celebrated, ate cake, watched soccer, and took pictures.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;I have so many emotions going through my head and my heart, I’m not certain how to decipher them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m overwhelmed by the love and the warmth that we’ve been showed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were all surprised that people brought us small gifts.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know I was surprised how many people showed p for our last night of youth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t think that God ever ceases to surprise us with joyful things.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When it was my turn to thank everyone I read Romans 1:8-13.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s Paul’s prayer for the Romans, how he’s longing to see them so that they may encourage one another.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I feel like that is my prayer for my team and for &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“I long to see you so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to make you strong— &lt;span id="en-NIV-27928"&gt;that is, that you and I may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;“Kutimnukichu?” means “will you come back?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And the big problem of my heart is that my world is now in two places.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have two sets of family and two sets of friends who are both asking “Kutimnukichu?”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want the answer to be yes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I want the answer to be “Yes, I’m coming back to &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;California&lt;/st1:State&gt;” and “Yes, I’m coming back to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And simply the answer can be “yes” on both accounts but the more important question is “Will you stay?”… Unfortunately a tree doesn’t grow roots in two places.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-4426480753953442754?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/4426480753953442754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=4426480753953442754' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4426480753953442754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4426480753953442754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/06/t-minues-two.html' title='T Minues Two'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1614354866315370396</id><published>2008-06-01T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T14:10:20.146-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's the End of the World As We Know It</title><content type='html'>This week we said the first of our good-byes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After English class, one of our good friends comes up and says, “I need to say good-bye” and since it was time for everyone to be on their way, I didn’t think much of it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I said bye and before I went back to the conversation that I was immersed in, Martin said, “No… I need to say good-bye; I’m going to the highlands for two months.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We talked for a while and I know that God gave me the peace for the first of what will be many good-byes.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I leave &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; two weeks from tomorrow and my heart is in a bit of turmoil.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How do I leave all of these people whom I have grown to love and who loved me from the day I got here?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have family here… I have a younger brother and an aunt and uncle among other “relatives”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was thinking about how I wish I could stay longer… and I was thinking about how desperately I miss people from home… and I decided that it would be much easier if I didn’t love people so much in one of these places.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The world that has formed around my team and I for the past three months will soon be changing… dramatically.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As we prepare to head back to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;North America&lt;/st1:place&gt; and as we prepare to part ways from one another, we are being forced to take only lessons and memories as we leave this season behind.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think REM said it best, “It’s the end of the world as we know it”… but I’m not so sure that I feel fine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1614354866315370396?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1614354866315370396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1614354866315370396' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1614354866315370396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1614354866315370396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/06/its-end-of-world-as-we-know-it.html' title='It&apos;s the End of the World As We Know It'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-3911424164144653968</id><published>2008-05-28T11:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:44:23.435-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Insecto!</title><content type='html'>On our trip up north I became more than acquainted with too many six legged friends.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My first encounter was at about 4:30 in the morning after getting off an overnight bus ride to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Piura&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We piled too many people into taxies and were getting all of our luggage situated as we were getting ready to head to the church that was hosting us and fall back asleep.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While the taxi was still parked at the curb and my purse was in my lap I felt a slight tickle on my arm, only to look down in the faint light to see a very large bug wandering around.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sarah and I fling the taxi door open and while she it swatting the bug off my purse and amongst our shrieks I’m shouting “INSECTO!” hoping to ease the confusion of the taxi driver.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After removing the bug from the car we return to our 4:30am half-awake state as we drive to the church.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;During out time in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Piura&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; we visited other churches in neighboring cities.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have never seen so many crickets as I have in Sullana.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During our two days in that church we attended their prayer meeting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were asked to introduce ourselves and when I sat back down in my chair Dave turns to me and says, “you just sat on a cricket.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I continually and adamantly tell him that I most certainly did not as I was terribly grossed out by the idea.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I got up for a second time a cricket fell on the floor and I was faced with the reality that I had really sat on the six legged critter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Not knowing what the next step of action should be I asked Dave to just kick the cricket away so I didn’t have to look at this seemingly dead insect for the rest of the service.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He kicked it and it slid smoothly across the floor and stayed there until about half way through the meeting where it began to wiggle and then walk away as if nothing had happened.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After we had returned to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Piura&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and the church that was hosting us there, we decided that we should go out for dinner.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We found a quaint little open-air BBQ place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After we had been served and were enjoying a meal that looked a little more like home than some of the other foods we had been served, I look down and see something large and black on my pants.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A two inch cockroach had landed on my pants.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Trying my hardest not to make a scene in the restaurant I calmly stand up and in between repeating “insecto, insecto” I’m begging Otto to knock it off my pants because I’m too afraid to touch it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The bug fell from my thigh and the servers just watched as I’m trying to stay calm.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-3911424164144653968?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/3911424164144653968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=3911424164144653968' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3911424164144653968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3911424164144653968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/05/insecto.html' title='Insecto!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-6506002879095803850</id><published>2008-05-24T13:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T14:01:34.747-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have a Dream</title><content type='html'>About a week ago we returned home to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; after adventuring in the North of Peru.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We stayed in two main cities and then worked with smaller churches in surrounding villages.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We played with children, preformed our drama, shoveled sand, painted, carried bricks and prayed.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The first church that we stayed at was in the city of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Trujillo&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The city is about the size of &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Fresno&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; and seemed fairly similar except for the mass amounts of speed bumps.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were welcomed with the normal Peruvian warmth and hospitality.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This church is going through change… both positive and negative.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As the North American missionaries are preparing to return to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Canada&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, a lot has taken place to place the church entirely into the hands of the Peruvians.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They have recently hired their senior pastor and the Sunday that we were there we witnessed the installation of their very first deacons, ushers, and associate pastor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are also in the midst of building and expanding their beautiful facility.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But during this building process someone broke in and stole all of their instruments.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For a while they felt as though music had been taken away from them but they are plowing ahead with an acoustic guitar, tambourine, and voices.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;But the part of this visit that really touched me was getting to know the pastor, Sergio.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He spent our entire visit with us… everything from cleaning to hanging out at the beach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One afternoon we helped him put together bookshelves in what will soon be a seminary in his backyard.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is a beautiful three story building that will soon be an institute of higher learning.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He gave us the grand tour of this empty building but as we walked from room to room I saw the light of God in his eyes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I couldn’t help but be reminded what it looks like to dream huge dreams with God.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He has a vision of everything that will fill his seminary… as we were about to finish the tour I realized there was one more door that we had not entered, and I figured someone was behind it because most rooms just have doorframes and northing else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I asked where the door lead, his eyes light up just a little bit brighter as he proceeded to tell me this was his favorite part: the prayer chapel on the room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I walked up another flight of stairs only to see a flat cement roof, but Sergio saw so much more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He described in great detail what everything would be, what it would look like and I couldn’t help but be captured in the beauty of his dream.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;This was also the day that, as Sarah says, my Spanish blossomed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All of the conversations that I was having with Sergio were entirely in Spanish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Commonly I didn’t have the words that I wanted but he was patient with my need to play charades for some words and even affirmed me and said that my words were very clear and he could easily understand me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As Sergio and I talked more and more about the seminary and my own schooling, he mentioned that someday I should come back and teach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The idea of moving to another continent and teaching is something that seems beyond me… but most God dreams are.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Not to say that I’m ready and willing to completely plant myself in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for an extended period of time, but I’m definitely not afraid to dream.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes it’s so easy to accept the status quo and forget what it looks like to dream like God dreams for us and I’m glad I got the reminder to constantly seek out dreams that seems bigger than I am.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-6506002879095803850?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/6506002879095803850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=6506002879095803850' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6506002879095803850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6506002879095803850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-have-dream.html' title='I Have a Dream'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-8647649564226323879</id><published>2008-05-09T14:28:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-09T14:32:41.497-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Culturally Unsensitive</title><content type='html'>The  other day I had quite possibly my most culturally unsensitive moment.  We were getting ready to get on a bus to visit the church in Sullana and when the bus driver opens the bottom luggage compartment so that people could get their stuff off a man walks up and grabs four live turkeys off the bottom of the bus...  he holds two in each hand, by the feet and carries them off like it´s no big deal.  I could help but laugh out loud and openly stare at this spectical... that would never happen at home.  But to make matters even funnier this man then proceeded to catch a small motor taxi and shove all four wing flapping birds inside.  Honestly, if my camera had been handy, I would have taken a picture.  I love Peru.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-8647649564226323879?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/8647649564226323879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=8647649564226323879' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8647649564226323879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8647649564226323879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/05/culturally-unsensitive.html' title='Culturally Unsensitive'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-6296198241355331340</id><published>2008-04-20T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-20T18:13:36.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bon Appetite!</title><content type='html'>It seems like so much of culture is tied to food.  Since we've gotten here everyone keeps asking us, "have you tried ceviche?"  We kept saying no, mostly because we were warned to wait until our stomaches were a bit stronger until we tried it.  Ceviche is raw, well sort of raw, fish.  It's "cooked" by the acid of lime juice.  Last week was the first time all of the girls tried this dish, Dave tried it one time at the beach with some friends.  We purposefully found a clean restaurant and gave it a shot.  I put a piece on my plate and I had such a huge mental block... I don't eat fish, much less raw fish.  My team kept encouraging me but I just needed a moment to think it through.  Roxy and I shared a small bite since neither of us were too sure that this would turn out to be an enjoyable experience.  We counted to three and stuck the forks in out mouthes, chewed, and swallowed.  I'm glad that I tried it but there is definitely something to be said for the texture of raw fish... excuse me, fish cooked by citrus acid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But there are quite a few "national" foods and drinks and they all seem to come in large portions.  Arroz con pollo, ceviche, papas a la huancaina, Inca Kola, Pisco Sours... and the list goes on.  People are so proud to feed you the food of their nation.  This has really made us all think: what foods are we proud of?  What do we prepare when international guests come to visit?  We all got stuck on that.  When we get homesick we go out for things like pizza and hamburgers but those are just things that we eat at home and not foods from our home.  North America is such a conglomeration of ethnicities that we don't have a "national dish".  Even when we think of what we cook at home... lasagna is Italian, tacos are Mexican, and chicken is pretty universal.  Food is such a big part of culture, even if North America, eating is a social event but we just don't have a national food.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-6296198241355331340?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/6296198241355331340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=6296198241355331340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6296198241355331340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6296198241355331340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/04/bon-appetite_6877.html' title='Bon Appetite!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-3198892686478156179</id><published>2008-04-01T14:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T14:20:01.026-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet...</title><content type='html'>Question:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What is the quickest way to get five North Americans out of bed in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;?      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Answer:&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;An earthquake.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Saturday morning at ten minutes before 8 we were all rattled out of bed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was the first earthquake that most of us have felt so we were all a bit startled… especially because that’s what woke us up.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a low rumbling and our beds were shaking as all five of us are reaching to find our glasses so we can see what is going on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It wasn’t too bad but it was enough to rattle the pots in the kitchen, make the animals go crazy, and get us girls out of bed in record time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When we were trying to figure out what to do, one suggestion was “stand in the doorway”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Now it’s good that we listened to earthquake safety in elementary school but with five girls and one doorway, it just wasn’t going to work.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By the time that we fully comprehended what was going on the earthquake had stopped but we still ran into the hallway calling for Jackie, she is the lady on pastoral staff who’s room is right across from ours.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She had just gotten out of the shower and was in her towel but she explained to five spooked North American girls that this wasn't bad.  She explained that when things shake side to side (like they did) doesn't really cause much, if any damage but it's when it's a rolling earthquake (like last August, up North) is when things get scary.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After all this had happened I couldn’t help but think about Acts 4:25-31, which has been my prayer for this church, lately.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We have neighbors who aren’t thrilled that there is a church below them and they are trying to force the church to move.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We don’t know what is going to happen yet but in Acts, after Peter and John were released, the believers came together in a time of prayer asking God to consider the threats that were against the early church and bring healing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The passage ends by saying, “After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-3198892686478156179?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/3198892686478156179/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=3198892686478156179' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3198892686478156179'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3198892686478156179'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-feel-earth-move-under-my-feet.html' title='I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet...'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-3000215117484041254</id><published>2008-03-24T12:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-24T12:49:30.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids Will Be Kids</title><content type='html'>We were walking down a street that I had never been down before… now that’s no feat since we’ve only been here three weeks and &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; is a city of 9 million people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m looking for the amazing pink house that Sarah told me to look for on the way and I don’t see it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The neighborhood is a little more run down than ours, but not by much.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s a little bit busier too: there are more cars and more people walking.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Just as I’m wondering how much longer we’ll be walking, we pass a half open garage door and inside are some women shuffling through what looks like empty soda bottles and other recyclables.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Lidia rings the doorbell, we’re here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Bre, Lisa, and I are all trailing behind Lidia and Lucha because we have no idea what to expect.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We walk into the courtyard and there is a handful of little boys playing what looked like a Peruvian game of cowboys and Indians: their hands make pretend guns and they shout “pew, pew” as the pretend bullets fly and children duck behind furniture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then the question is whispered, “do all these kids have AIDS too?”&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last Wednesday some of us went with Lidia and Lucha to a home for women and children with AIDS.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were definitely points where it was hard to wrap my mind around the fact that these women and children were sick.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A lot of them just had tons of life in them.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These women were such proud mothers and wanted us to know which beautiful child was theirs… some of these women didn’t look any older than I am.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some of the kids were more timid and stuck near their moms in the knitting room and others were in and out dragging in all sorts of toys.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was one little boy who’s mom died of AIDS a couple years ago and now his aunt and grandma take turns living with him at this home because if they don’t he will be taken to an orphanage.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This little boy stuck close to his grandma while we were there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;His legs were so tiny and his ribcage stuck out, Lidia later told me that he is commonly in and out of the hospital… he couldn’t have been older than six.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are a couple ladies who are pregnant and a couple newborn infants at the home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the ladies explained to us that they’re planning to so a c-section, that way there is a chance that her baby won’t contract HIV.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After singing, knitting, and doing a devotional, it was time to go.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Lidia pulls candy out of her pockets and offers it to the children who were still in the room on our way out the door.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel like my head is still spinning a bit from that visit.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have so many questions and I can’t find anyone with the answers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How big is the AIDS problem in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do all the children there have HIV?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What kind of social assistance is in place for these people?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How do they pay their medical bills?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do the older kids go to school and will the younger ones go eventually?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I kept asking questions and all I got was, “that would be an interesting thing to research.” &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-3000215117484041254?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/3000215117484041254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=3000215117484041254' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3000215117484041254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/3000215117484041254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/kids-will-be-kids.html' title='Kids Will Be Kids'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-765504905907386301</id><published>2008-03-21T18:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-21T18:12:50.157-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Retreat!</title><content type='html'>The past 48 hours was a youth retreat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since this is a small church without a youth budget (like so many of the churches that we’re used to at home) the youth retreat was at the church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was like a big sleep over, girls in one room and boys in the courtyard.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Pretty much the only thing that was asked of my team was that we build relationships with the youth.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most of the youth here (and youth is a loose term, ranging from 16 to however old) are pretty leary of taking a major step in their faith.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They don’t want to be baptized, they don’t want to join a discipleship class, and they don’t want to be viewed differently than their peers.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We were all a bit skeptical about how much fun this youth retreat was going to be, but it was great.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yesterday Bre and I had a full conversation without using any English.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some of our Spanish was pretty broken but we got our point across.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ate together, sang together, prayed together, and played together the whole two days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Dancing is a big part of the culture here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Last night some of the girls put on some salsa and were dancing before we started watching a movie.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Jano, the pastor, lined us the girls on my team and some girls from the church and we mimicked their dancing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a lot of laughter and I’m not always sure if it was at us or with us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the girls could really move her hips so I asked her if she would teach me and she did.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I apparently caught on decently well because Jano gave me a high five and then Italo did too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so embarrassed when I realized that everyone was watching me that I blushed and dashed into the kitchen.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Italo told me that I danced like a Peruvian girl, I’ll take that as a compliment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But all through the evening I was told that I could dance well and that I had rhythm, who knew?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today we spent the day at the beach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had to leave &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; so we could get to a beach where it was clean enough to swim.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am proud to announce that I am, once again, the least sunburnt of all the girls!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But as soon as we were laying our towel down we noticed some people our age that were also speaking English.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve heard an American accent that isn’t on our team.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think they noticed us right away, too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We got to talking and they were from all over the states and studying abroad in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Ecuador&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was pretty refreshing to be able to explain who I am and not have to ask “&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;como&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; se dice se?”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-765504905907386301?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/765504905907386301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=765504905907386301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/765504905907386301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/765504905907386301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/retreat.html' title='Retreat!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7588718945053738847</id><published>2008-03-12T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-12T17:32:28.582-07:00</updated><title type='text'>These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things</title><content type='html'>I think that it’s time that I explain some of the quirky things about this beautiful country.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Sometimes we run out of water.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We only get the amount of water that is in the cistern every day so hopefully you’re not in the shower when the water stops.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There aren’t hot water heaters here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At least not like we think of them… there is a small device that plugs into the wall and attaches to the shower head: it sends an electrical current that heats the water.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Don’t touch the shower head or you’ll get shocked.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our toilet is a bit funny.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re not allowed to put toilet paper in the toilets and sometimes when you flush it you can hear a gurgle come from the bathtub.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But if for any reason the toilet doesn’t flush you have to walk up to the third floor, fill up a bucket of water, walk back down the stairs, and pour the bucket quickly into the toilet to “flush” it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We learned the hard way that you’re supposed to pour the bucket quickly but not turn the bucket completely upside down… that gets water everywhere.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;You can’t find a carton of milk if you tried.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Milk is always in a bag.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Also, yogurt comes in a jug and you drink it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When you buy eggs at the store or corner market they’re just sitting out on the shelf as if they were any other dried good.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You also buy them buy the kilo, if you ask for a dozen eggs you will either be laughed at or not understood.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Seatbelts really aren’t much of an issue.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One day the cab driver said we could put four people in the back… it saved us fare for another cab.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Honking your car horn is a necessary part of driving.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When someone is driving too slow, if a bus stops in front of you with no notice, if there’s a j-walker, if you just feel like it… lay on the horn!&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Instead of having a dog that barks when the doorbell rings, we have parrots who squak.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well Panco is quite boisterous Pepita is a lot quieter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re really trying to teach Pancho to say “party on” before we leave.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s apparently culturally appropriate for men to whistle at women when they’re walking down the street, no woman ever turns her head to it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We get whistled at a few times whenever we go out.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ve also heard many variations on the whistle, everything from “my precious”, “you are pretty buy a map”, “oh my goodness…”, and one time a bus even whistled at us, we’re not sure how that worked.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We also kiss numerous people every day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When ever you greet someone to say good bye you place your right cheek against theirs and kiss the air… except some of the older men who kiss you right on the cheek, watch out for them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7588718945053738847?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7588718945053738847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7588718945053738847' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7588718945053738847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7588718945053738847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-5361214331983749050</id><published>2008-03-11T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-11T16:16:02.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hips Don't Lie?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night was a fun adventure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of our new friends, Alysia, came over to show us some traditional Peruvian dances.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She brought cd’s of the music and pictures in her traditional dress.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The music was wonderful and the dresses were bright, like it seems everything is in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When she showed us the steps, we watched and tried and laughed as we realized just how white we are.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After that Jano, the pastor, and his wife and daughter stared dancing with us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They showed us Salsa and the Merange.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I could help but chuckle to myself and think “this would never fly in a Mennonite church in the states!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was just so funny to be dancing in the church courtyard with the pastor and his family.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s always so interesting to see the cultural differences of what’s appropriate and what’s not.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a good time with a lot of laughter but none of us girls quite figured out how to move our hips.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-5361214331983749050?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/5361214331983749050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=5361214331983749050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/5361214331983749050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/5361214331983749050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/hips-dont-lie.html' title='Hips Don&apos;t Lie?'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-6912825891367132790</id><published>2008-03-08T11:38:00.002-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-08T11:39:05.424-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Miscommunication</title><content type='html'>Today is really where the rubber has met the road… last week everything was simple and now, let the chaos begin!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once a month, the whole church comes together for a Saturday morning breakfast and devotions.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was supposed to be last Saturday but they pushed it back a week so we could be here too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We met everyone and greeted them with the tradition Peruvian cheek to cheek and kiss the air.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then we ate breakfast together.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;People asked me what my name was and if I spoke Spanish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I replied “me llamo Laura… un poco espanol”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Simple enough.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Where things got a bit trickier was when we split off to have a devotional time with the women.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I figured out that we were in Ephesians 6 and thanks to a bilingual bible I followed along while Jackie read but then I got lost.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She spoke for a solid amount of time and all I could pick out was a word or two from each sentence.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt really confused but little did I know that the confusion was only beginning.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After that a woman from the church was going to teach everyone how to make jewelry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She explained everything in Spanish so I just watched her movements.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I counted out the beads but there weren’t enough to mine got passed to someone else and I had no idea what was happening.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No one around me could really help so I just sat there, confused.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Otto walked by and commented that there weren’t beads in front of me and I tried to explain that I had no idea what was going on.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I eventually finished my bracelet but the lady spoke in incredibly fast Spanish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was time for the worship team to practice and &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lydia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; said it would be fine for us to make our lunch then.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Somehow there was a miscommunication and we thought that we were supposed to eat then to… but we weren’t.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ate our lunch after we finished cooking it and then people tried to feed us more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We decided that it would be best if we made ourselves scarce while the rest of the church ate so not to be rude.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think it’s about time for me to head outside and be social…&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It's really hard not understanding anything that is going on.  I’m so glad we start Spanish classes on Monday… I hope I learn quickly. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-6912825891367132790?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/6912825891367132790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=6912825891367132790' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6912825891367132790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6912825891367132790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/miscommunication.html' title='Miscommunication'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-158729434342957213</id><published>2008-03-06T11:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T11:21:54.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Touristas!</title><content type='html'>On Tuesday we got to be Touristas!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We took a cab and got downtown.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There aren’t any seatbelt laws or rules about how many people can go in one cab.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We piled 10 people into 2 cabs and were off.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We made it to a city square where the president lives and where there are other government buildings.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BITIvTpSI/AAAAAAAAAA8/aDY9G7rWo88/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BITIvTpSI/AAAAAAAAAA8/aDY9G7rWo88/s320/trekking+it%21+077.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174715465449317666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BHX4vTpRI/AAAAAAAAAA0/FwZjBYZrRIs/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+029.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BHX4vTpRI/AAAAAAAAAA0/FwZjBYZrRIs/s320/trekking+it%21+029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174714447542068498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We also went to the museum of congress and the inquisition&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BI3ovTpTI/AAAAAAAAABE/bq9BJqZD0UQ/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BI3ovTpTI/AAAAAAAAABE/bq9BJqZD0UQ/s320/trekking+it%21+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174716092514542898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then we went to the Catacombs that are under a huge catholic church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Back in the day, people who died in Lime and were Catholic were buried here.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They excavated the first level of the catacombs in the 1940’s and 50’s and arranged the boned in neat orders.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are also two more levels of catacombs below but they are afraid to dig them up for fear that the church will collapse.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BwXIvTpVI/AAAAAAAAABU/wh-GoIVNaew/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+070.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BwXIvTpVI/AAAAAAAAABU/wh-GoIVNaew/s320/trekking+it%21+070.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174759514633905490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We also went and saw what used to be the wall that protected the city from pirates&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BxE4vTpWI/AAAAAAAAABc/4EYfo4X_CTw/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BxE4vTpWI/AAAAAAAAABc/4EYfo4X_CTw/s320/trekking+it%21+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174760300612920674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was a good day and we got to relax, enjoy ourselves, get to know some of the girls that go to the church, and explore a new part of the city.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Below is a picture of the whole crew that was with us (minus Otto and &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lydia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;).&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BxoIvTpXI/AAAAAAAAABk/uEPkpVmOwAE/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BxoIvTpXI/AAAAAAAAABk/uEPkpVmOwAE/s320/trekking+it%21+038.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174760906203309426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yesterday we walked to the beach.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a little more than the ten minute walk that we were told about.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some other people from the church came with us and the whole way there people would teach me new vocabulary and then point at thing and I would say it in Spanish.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m getting to the point that I can make some really simply sentences.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t wait to start Spanish classes next week!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But here’s some of us at the beach, it’s quite rocky.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BzBYvTpYI/AAAAAAAAABs/N_sM6QOo-FY/s1600-h/trekking+it%21+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BzBYvTpYI/AAAAAAAAABs/N_sM6QOo-FY/s320/trekking+it%21+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174762439506634114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It was really neat to think that this is the same Pacific Ocean that I play in at Pismo or &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Santa   Cruz&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After we left the beach we walked to a park to have a picnic lunch.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We sat in the shade for a while and then walked until we caught a bus to take us home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All five of us girls are varying shades of red and pink.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Surprisingly enough, I’m one of the least burnt!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The sun here is quite intense because it’s a tropical sun so I even burned through my SPF 50 sunscreen a bit.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-158729434342957213?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/158729434342957213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=158729434342957213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/158729434342957213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/158729434342957213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/touristas.html' title='Touristas!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R9BITIvTpSI/AAAAAAAAAA8/aDY9G7rWo88/s72-c/trekking+it%21+077.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7712318724615023564</id><published>2008-03-03T18:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-03T18:26:54.386-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We Made It!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After a 26 hour travel day we have finally made it to our new home for the next three and a half months.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had an extra hour and a half delay in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Houston&lt;/st1:City&gt; and I think I accidentally left my cell phone in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Seattle&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; but other than that, it was an uneventful trip.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We all made it through customs and immigration without being asked a single question.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;No one asked us why we were here, how long we were staying or what we were planning on doing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That was a huge answer to prayer because some of the girls were a little nervous with the idea of going through customs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We regrouped after getting a bit separated going through the customs lines and then we saw Otto.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Another answer to prayer!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We realized in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Dallas&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; that we hadn’t sent him our travel itinerary and when we tried to call to tell him we were delayed, the phone wasn’t working.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But he was there, he greeted each of us girls in the Peruvian way (right cheek to right cheek and kiss the air) and shook Dave’s hand.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We saw Otto’s son and an entire entourage of people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We met and spoke with what little language skills we shared between us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the first thing some of the people said was, “You know Jesse?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I smiled and said yes and explained that we go to university together.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We fell into bed at about 3am with five girls and five beds in one room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We don’t have much floor space and we’re trying to figure out what to do with our suitcases and clothes but we decided that we’ll deal with it later.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our room is right off the courtyard between the church and the house and directly outside of our window are two large parrots that whistle and say “hola” and “Otto”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In fact we woke up to those parrots this morning.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They’re sort of like a “guard dog” in the sense that they go crazy with some screeching noises whenever someone rings the doorbell.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This morning we all got to sleep in, all the way until about 10am… and that was only 7am according to the time our bodies are used to.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We took our time getting ready and spent some time up on the roof.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The weather here is amazingly beautiful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The sun is shining and there are flowers blooming everywhere.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some of the flowers are just like at home and some are very tropical, it’s wonderful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But we spent some time talking, singing, and praying as a team before we had lunch.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Lydia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; made us a fantastic meal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, the biggest meal of the day is in the afternoon and not in the evening, I think I’ll like that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After lunch Otto took us to the market so we could exchange some of our money and we could generally get acquainted with things.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We walked for a while and it got a little warm, but what a fantastic feeling to finally be warm again!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is a lot of fruit grown around here so there were things I had never seen before like starfruit and even the things I have seen before were a little different, here the mangos and avocados are almost the size of your head!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This evening we had a meeting with the pastoral staff.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We went over everything and hopefully I even picked up a bit of Spanish vocabulary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were given all the information we should know about living here but we’re still praying for an easy transition.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ll be cooking three times a week with the pastor’s wife.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When we’re cooking with her she will also help us to learn Spanish and common recipes.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She is wonderfully sweet and told us that we could call her “mommy” if we wanted to.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everyone here just wants us to feel comfortable so that we can feel at home here.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This week they’re going easy on us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They’re going to show us around the city and next week we’ll start teaching English and learning Spanish and doing everything else that is on the schedule.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s a chance that we might go to the catacombs tomorrow so that should be really interesting… Sarah told us all about them and all the bones that are in them.&lt;/p&gt;In a little while we might go down to the park and just spend some time there with the guitar and sing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Otto was saying that it is a dream of the church that we may be able to be more of a presence in the neighborhood.    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;My letter was just pleasantly interrupted by the pastor’s youngest daughter coming to play with me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ran around and I said “commo se dise?” and she would tell me what things were.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ran around the house with me pointing at thing and her telling me answers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that Annie and I will become good friends, she’s been helping me a lot with learning vocabulary.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Well it’s getting late and I’m going to investigate what’s going on down in the court yard before I head off to sleep.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7712318724615023564?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7712318724615023564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7712318724615023564' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7712318724615023564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7712318724615023564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-made-it.html' title='We Made It!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-4691554022715815250</id><published>2008-03-01T15:37:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-03-01T15:37:44.682-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrate!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Yesterday one of the girls on my team, Breanne, was baptized!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was wonderful that we, as a trek community, were able to come around her and celebrate with her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Her sister as well as a member of the Trek staff baptized her in the hot tub, here at the mark Centre.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Joanna, one of Breanne’s roommates here, led us in some songs and John gave a mini sermon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After she was baptized we all went into the Great Room and had the opportunity to pray over Breanne and just read scripture over her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Such a blessing!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a way to start our trek assignment.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-4691554022715815250?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/4691554022715815250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=4691554022715815250' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4691554022715815250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4691554022715815250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/03/celebrate.html' title='Celebrate!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-5749512147904073611</id><published>2008-02-28T22:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-28T22:42:43.618-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Authority</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t fully understand spiritual warfare and I think that’s ok.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;About a week ago I started having some pretty awful dreams and I couldn’t make it through the night without waking up a couple times.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I always sleep through the night and I haven’t had nightmares since I was a child so I was pretty reluctant to speak about anything out loud.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was even a little apprehensive to call my dreams nightmares since I so closely linked that with childhood and I did not see that as something that happens to adults.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Two nights ago I had a morbid dream that just weighed me down… I woke up at 3am and just started praying, “God take these images away and like this have no place here”… and then doubt crept in… “this isn’t from you, right?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I slept very little the rest of the night and found myself completely exhausted.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I dismissed a lot and figured I was just catching the cold that was going around; I thought my physical exhaustion was just the beginning of getting ill.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had become so worn down that I made the decision to skip dinner and just sleep but when I crawled in bed I found myself near tears because I was half afraid to close my eyes and fall asleep again.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When I woke up from my nap I was talking with Luke and I mentioned not sleeping well and my bad dreams.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He suggested that I ask my roommates to pray: there it was… the answer I was overlooking.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I asked Sarah to pray for me and then before we fell asleep both Bri and Lisa prayed over our room too.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am happy to announce that I slept the whole night through.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Tonight during team time, I think Bri shared a bit about what I was going through with my sleep with the &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; team.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They decided as a team that we should do something about the oppression that many of us are feeling the weight of so both teams came together and just declared the power of Jesus over the Mark Centre and in our lives.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t think of time in prayer that was more God soaked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It seemed that every word that was said was covered with the authority of Jesus Christ.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wish there were adequate words to express the beauty of this evening but you’ll just have to take my word that it was wonderfully indescribable… What a way to begin the end of our time together during training.&lt;/p&gt;  I have given you authority to trample on snakes and scorpions and to overcome all the power of the enemy; nothing will harm you.&lt;br /&gt;Luke 10:19&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-5749512147904073611?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/5749512147904073611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=5749512147904073611' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/5749512147904073611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/5749512147904073611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-have-authority.html' title='I Have Authority'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-2818237704480571566</id><published>2008-02-25T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-25T21:49:38.493-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The People Continue to Pray</title><content type='html'>Tonight a group from &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Clearbrook&lt;/st1:City&gt;  &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;MB&lt;/st1:State&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; invited us to their monthly prayer meeting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They meet at their church and they pray through the prayer guide that MBMSI puts out and they were also praying for us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Luke gave an overview on Trek and then a couple girls nervously gave their testimonies.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One lady asked if we could say where we are all from so we stood up, one by one, and ran through what has become a normal routine for us… “My name is Laura Adams, I’m from &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;California&lt;/st1:State&gt;, and I’m going to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But in the middle of my introduction I see a familiar face, a friendly smile, and a beautiful woman waving at me: it was &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dear sweet woman who is praying for me was at the prayer meeting tonight!&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We split into groups and divided up the prayer guide but I didn’t get to be in the same group as &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I did, however, get to be in the same group as a neighbor of hers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When it was my turn to introduce myself to the small group a woman named Margaret said, “Oh!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You’re the one that my neighbor, Elizabeth, is praying for.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She has told me so much about you and she is so excited to be praying for you.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Wow… I’m incredibly blessed by a sweet woman who I hardly know.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After the formal prayer time ended I went straight over to talk with &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We chatted for a while and I wrote down her address and phone number so that I will be able to keep in touch with her while I’m gone.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She is the most marvelous 87 year old woman I have ever met.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She loves and trusts Jesus, she has faith for every day and is quick to pray for everything.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m so blessed to have such a prayer warrior on my side.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She told me that she was praying about which trekker to adopt and when she saw me after the service last night she knew I was the one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She has a deep love for me that I don’t really understand.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She shared with me how her family came over from &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Russia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; when she was quite young and also that she doesn’t have much family around her but she feels so close to me like I could be her daughter.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m excited to have such a saint praying for me and I’m even more excited to be praying for her. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-2818237704480571566?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/2818237704480571566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=2818237704480571566' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2818237704480571566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2818237704480571566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/people-continue-to-pray.html' title='The People Continue to Pray'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-8443618390794890776</id><published>2008-02-24T21:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-24T21:35:49.543-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The People Are Praying</title><content type='html'>Tonight we spent the evening at &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Clearbrook&lt;/st1:City&gt; &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;MB&lt;/st1:State&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; for a commissioning service.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is a church of the elderly and those who are persistent in prayer.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We sang some hymns, Luke explained Trek, we introduced ourselves, and John gave a sermon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Near the end of the service the congregation was given an opportunity to give us scripture and words of wisdom.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were given:&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. &lt;span id="en-NIV-29434"&gt;And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Phil 4:6-7&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A woman who served in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Mexico&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; for 25 years and then short term in &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; gave us, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”&lt;br /&gt;Prov 3:5-6&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;A man named William Thiessen told us that “Your faith will be tried, that is sure but God will be with you.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He also left us with “I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you.”&lt;br /&gt;Ps 32:8&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;William has committed to praying for me while I am away on Trek and so has another woman named &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Let me tell you, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Elizabeth&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; is quite the character.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She is 87 years old and more in love with Jesus than just about anyone that I’ve ever met.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She proudly proclaimed Jesus has always been her teacher because her formal education ended at grade 6.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She went on to bible school and had the opportunity to memorize a lot of scripture that she still keeps with her to this day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She also told me that she would be praying for me to find a husband because she thinks that is really important.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tonight was such a testament to how the people of God pray.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tomorrow night we’re going to their prayer meeting and we get to be blessed more by their ministry.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-8443618390794890776?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/8443618390794890776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=8443618390794890776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8443618390794890776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8443618390794890776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/people-are-praying.html' title='The People Are Praying'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-6263105994867177673</id><published>2008-02-18T22:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-18T22:04:49.689-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When Worlds Come Together</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Beautiful faces, a fantastic poster, wonderful hugs and great conversations.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tonight we got to connect with this year’s Ministry Quest group.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So many charming young men and women from all over the place who I haven’t seen since I was with them back in August and all the marvelous staff who I haven’t seen since before I left.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I often forget the power of people in my life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They so often speak God to me through their words, hugs, prayers, and just simply standing by my side.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t even express how fantastic it was to see so many people that I love all in one room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I feel so refreshed after feeling so alive.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tonight was like a little taste of home and a huge taste of so much more.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Seeing people from home has really set my heart at a whole new level of peace.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Seeing someone and being able to give and receive hugs is so incredibly valuable when you’re far from home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are definitely days when I miss home and days that I wonder what I’m doing here but there are so many more that I’m here and loving where I am and learning so much about community, my world and my God.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-6263105994867177673?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/6263105994867177673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=6263105994867177673' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6263105994867177673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6263105994867177673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/when-worlds-come-together.html' title='When Worlds Come Together'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7354364061586862845</id><published>2008-02-14T22:48:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T22:48:50.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>LOVE!</title><content type='html'>Life is so much bigger than we could ever imagine.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I never fail to marvel at how big life is.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today on what could be a totally self-indulgent and inwardly focused day we got to do a lot of serving.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This morning we went to a place called Gleaners.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This ministry is partnering with grocery stores and farmers all over Abbotsford and the surrounding areas to reduce food waste and feed the hungry around the world.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a marvelous concept!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Since we, as consumers, are really picky the food that is slightly blemished doesn’t even make it to market and just gets dumped in a land fill, Gleaners is trying to make use of what used to be waste.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They dry the vegetables to make bags of dried soup and then partner with other ministries in distributing the soup all around the world. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We had a huge production line: there were thirteen people doing a job that they commonly have more than thirty people doing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We added scoops of barley, carrots, onions, tomoatos, peppers, lentils, green beans and numerous other ingredients to help create a healthy meal for people who may only have one meal the whole day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each bag of soup is 100 servings and we put together 56 bags of soup in about an hour.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Later in the afternoon we came down to the great room and Amy was set with ribbon, cards, candy, and roses.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had hundreds of boxes of candy hearts and dozens of roses.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We laughed and joked while we tied ribbons and cards around these gifts… and even told our first kiss stories, it is after all, Valentines Day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But after we finished we piled into vehichicles and headed to an area of town called Five Corners (it’s called this because five streets all come together at one intersection, so confusing!).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But this is an area of town that has higher rates of poverty, drug use, and homelessness than we have previously seen in this beautiful town.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We made our “home base” at a place called &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Jubilee&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Park&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, grabbed handfuls of roses and candy and spread out to bless people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ran across people who shouted out of their car windows asking us to be their valentine, people turning us away, and people accepting us warmly.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is something so beautiful about giving a woman a rose, there is something inside of her that just lights up: my marvelous roommate Jenn suggested that it’s the idea of giving life.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What a beautiful image!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had quite a few women say that the rose we gave them was more than they would get from their husbands.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had other people ask us if we were selling them and we got to gladly hand one over for free.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was interesting to watch people’s reactions when they weren’t so open to receiving a free gift.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our society doesn’t do anything with “no strings attached” and we’ve been taught not to even make eye contact with people we cross on the streets… what a shame.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One man that I got to talk to seemed quite skeptical of us at first when we offered him a box of candy hearts and asked us something about a funeral since we were carrying so many flowers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We assured him that we were not taking part in a funeral and so he asked what we were doing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I got to tell him that we were just showing God’s love in a very practical way and with that I got the first of many hugs I would receive from strangers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We got to tell him about Trek and where we were from (when I told him I’m from &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;California&lt;/st1:State&gt; and I’m going to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; he laughed, put his hand on my forehead and said, “you’re going north to go south!”).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He told us a little bit about the neighborhood we were in since we didn’t know much about it and really affirmed what we were doing saying that the neighborhood needed more things like this.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We got to bless people in a rather silly way, share the love of my Lord in a rather unobtrusive way, and see people smile as a result.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some of the girls got talking to a homeless man in the park and he shared with them his life story and also his insight that Jubilee park is usually teeming with people but when we came people scattered because the darkness hides from the light.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. &lt;span id="en-NIV-23250"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. &lt;span id="en-NIV-23251"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Matthew 5:14-16&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7354364061586862845?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7354364061586862845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7354364061586862845' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7354364061586862845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7354364061586862845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/love.html' title='LOVE!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-8272972148569182706</id><published>2008-02-12T10:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-12T10:14:50.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Incredible Trek</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Have you ever had one of those days where you look back on it and think, “what on earth just happened?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;When midnight came and Saturday started, my roommates and I were eagerly scheming how we could prank the interns when they came to wake us up at an atrocious hour… We unscrewed the light bulbs outside of our door to ensure some darkness, taped the light switches down so you couldn’t turn them on, put squares of tin foil covered in honey just inside of our door, and then strung yarn from Lisa’s bunk-bed to a towel rack.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We knew we were going to get woken up so we thought we’d make things a little more interesting.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Darlene, one of the girls next door, also joined us for this adventure.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We pushed the two twin beds together and all four of us slept there hoping that when one of interns came to wake us up they wouldn’t be able to get the lights on, step in honey and then clothesline herself instead of jumping on our bed… we purposefully left our door unlocked.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;After less than four hours of sleep I heard a car door in the parking lot and I knew everything was about to start.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;5am strikes and Amy is pounding on our door telling us that it was time to rise and shine.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When no one moved from our room she came in and firmly announced “Girls, it is 5am, The Fest has started!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You have 7 minutes to be dressed and downstairs!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Of course she said this between chuckles as she was trying not to laugh out loud at our creativity.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I end up downstairs with my teeth hardly brushed, shoes and sweatshirt still in my hands and of course, it’s raining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We did a memory game, &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; team won and got a ten minute head start.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our first challenge was to find six bandanas (in the dark and rain) that had been placed around mark Centre property.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Peru team came back to win this one, then we blasted through the 6am brain-teasers only to be told that we needed to count the number of squares in a roll of toilet paper and then tear each square in half.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When we realized that we somehow had too many triangles, Breanne took one for the team and ate a couple. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;We later found out that our toilet paper challenge was only because we were so quick on everything and our van drivers hadn’t arrived yet.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We were sent to places to get a cup a chai, and then to the airport for our next clue and then it was breakfast time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We followed the clue to the apartment of someone on Trek staff.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For breakfast they served us white rice, a can of sardines, and a two-liter of coke.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had to eat everything before we could go on and if anyone threw up there would be time penalty.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our team choked it all down and before we left we were told this had been an actual breakfast that a Trek team had been served.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We got more clues that led us to find a needle in a hay stack (literally), go on a photo scavenger hunt, find a car in the mall parking lot (all we were given was the license plate number) and at this point our driver left us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had no warning that we were going to be on foot from here so when we had found our next clue some of us were frantically looking for the van.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A man who say us running around started lecturing Sarah on needing to remember where she had parked.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ran and walked through the rain until we got to the fire station and from there we played a game of bocce ball (Lisa and I dominated).&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our next clue was a string of numbers.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We tried calling it but it didn’t work. Then Roxy figured out that the phone number was backwards.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We called it and got a recording that said something to the effect of “Mathew, Mark, Luke, or John, go to Rotary Stadium and go fishing for something other than men”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We take off running because at this point we’re about 15 minutes behind the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We get there, we find Mark, a bowl of pudding and a bowl of rice krispys.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had to fish in the bowl of pudding for a gummy worm and then fish in the rice krispy bowl.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My team looked lovely!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was exempt because of the chocolate.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;From there we sprinted to Luke and Greg’s apartment so we could wait.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We got there, changed into dry clothes and waited.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had somehow gotten almost 45 minutes ahead of the other team so we waited for them before we got the next clue.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When they got there we still waited some more until Luke pulls dried squids from his oven… gross!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;None of us wanted to eat anything we still weren’t feeling well from breakfast.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We all downed the squid and the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team ended up 5 minutes behind the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We sprint into the college library and find the book we need only to be lectured by the librarian about being quiet.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had been quiet but the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team had already ticked her off.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We talked about the librarian during debrief and realized she was probably the only Christian woman we met all day and she was also the rudest person that we had encountered.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the clue we found in the library was in a foreign language that none of us regognized.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After feeling stuck and hopeless we were told it was &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Punjab&lt;/st1:place&gt; and we asked someone at an Indian market if they would translate for us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The clue sent us to the Seik temple for lunch… great, more food.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So we covered our heads and took off our shoes and ate the Indian food, some people slower than others.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;After our meal our next clue led us to break a block of ice, then play skee ball to get tickets to by candy for our driver, then we had to make up a love song and sing it to a “mysterious woman on a balcony”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She turned out to be a he who did Trek last year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When he handed us the next clue, none of us were exactly excited.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were told we had to go to a town called &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Surrey&lt;/st1:place&gt; (it’s about half an hour away) and catch the Sky Train (it’s an above ground subway kind of thing).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Our hearts sank when we saw this because we knew the day was far from over because if they were sending us to Surrey they were going to send us to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Vancouver&lt;/st1:City&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We hop on the train and Breanne navigates like a pro!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The only thing was that both teams went to the wrong station.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If we had made it to the right station a lady would have asked for our help and if we helped her we would have gotten a “good Samaritan clue” that would have fast tracked us to the end.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But we made it to &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Vancouver&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;, met Luke at a gelato shop, and then sprinted back to the station to get on a Sea Bus.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team had made the boat right before us so we knew they had made it first but we thought we still had the advantage from waiting at Luke and Greg’s.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We decided that we were going to finish strong and hard.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So we all sprinted to our final destination and the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team and all the staff were cheering the entire time.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We felt like we were ending a marathon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We finished but we didn’t win.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Apparently the game started over at the squid and the &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; team crossed the finish line about ten minutes before us.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;The entire game took about 15 hours and we were beat.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everyone was sore, exhausted and a bit queasy from the amount of unfamiliar food in our stomachs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We did it, as a team.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had no tears, no arguments, and we got to see everyone rise up and lead out of their giftings.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-8272972148569182706?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/8272972148569182706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=8272972148569182706' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8272972148569182706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/8272972148569182706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/incredible-trek.html' title='The Incredible Trek'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-2653452329452922968</id><published>2008-02-09T00:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T00:23:30.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence is Golden</title><content type='html'>Today we ended out 48 hours of silence; I feel refreshed, to say the least.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we were first “released” into our silence, I made myself a nest of blankets and pillows, figuring that I would spend most of my time in my room since it’s so cold and there was rain forecasted for days on end.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We were told not to fight being tired… so I didn’t.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The first thing I did was take a nap.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I slept comfortably for a couple hours and woke up just in time for dinner.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the marvelous part was that I woke up humming a line from a song, “you’re my safe place” and the truth of the matter is that God is my safe place!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I got a ton of sleep the past two days.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After about ten hours of sleep I woke up right in time for breakfast (are you noticing a theme of waking up right in time for meals?).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But Thankfully, it was sunny!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;God does hear the cry of my heart!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I went for a walk down at the park wondering what God had for me there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was wondering and I took a couple little trails that I had always overlooked on my other visits.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was wonderful to see what was off the beaten path and see all the hidden benches and charming resting places.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I stopped and watched a pair of ducks for a while.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I named them Mr. and Mrs. Duck (real original… I know).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I watched them swim and dive under water and one would always follow the other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They would swim until they bumped into a piece of ice that was floating and then they would hop up on top and walk on the water, I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself and think “Jesus ducks”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Backtracking a couple of weeks to another walk down at &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Fishtrap&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Park&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;, the other girls showed me how much fun it was to throw rocks through the frozen lake.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;During my silent walk I could feel that God was tugging on my heart to symbolically give something back to him by throwing a rock through the ice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wandered until I found a good, solid, frozen spot and a spot that had rocks near it (it’s been above freezing the past couple days so most if the ice was pretty thin).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I found the biggest rock I could (granted it was only about half the size of my fist) and I chucked that sucker at the ice as hard as I could.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But to my surprise the rock didn’t break through the ice but it just skidded to a stop on the other side of the lake.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I stood there completely dumbfounded.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then I realized that it was a melting process.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I had expected to watch the rock disappear but instead I just watched it sit there.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I know that in the spring the ice will melt and my rock will sink to the bottom but as long as that rock is no longer in my reach then everything will be ok.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My spring may come sooner or later than actual spring, or it may never come at all but the fact of the matter is that the rock is no longer mine to hold.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had come into this retreat hoping that God would just break my heart and that I would be able to cry for some things that I have never really mourned.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I spent the evening in the tree house with candles lit just thinking about things and looking through my bible.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was overcome by the word “Hosanna”: it’s the Hebrew word of praise meaning “save”. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I was overcome by the feeling that I had come to God in a spirit that was longing to mourn and cry but God wanted a time of peace and celebration with me.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;God wanted me to sing praise songs and talk walks in the sunshine.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He gave me the sunshine so that I could rejoice and be glad, He heard even the trivial cry of my heart.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;“Your father knows what you need before you ask him” Matthew 6:8b. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-2653452329452922968?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/2653452329452922968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=2653452329452922968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2653452329452922968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2653452329452922968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/silence-is-golden.html' title='Silence is Golden'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-2662764457250908695</id><published>2008-02-03T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-03T23:32:14.708-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jazz is Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This weekend has been blissfully restful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Friday was a sleep in day, Saturday was completely free, and today we had minimal events.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The weather was beautiful yesterday so we took a long walk down to the MCC Thrift Store and I picked up a couple Spanish books so that I could start working language skills.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The other treasure that I found was Scattergories… it had all of the pieces and I got it for a dollar!&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Tonight has been one of my favorite evenings in quite a while.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We basically had live jazz in our living room.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Steve Klassen, who runs the Mark Centre, plays in a marvelous jazz band called the Mennonite Jazz Committee.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was wonderful to turn the great room into a coffee shop atmosphere, drinking chai, eating hazelnut cake, and hearing live jazz.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is nothing quite like a candle lit room, live music, a warm drink and being surrounded by friends.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When the band took a break I spent quite a while talking with the bassist about how he began playing, about his double bass, and playing in a community orchestra.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He told me that he had been playing the bass for over thirty year… I hope I still want to be playing my viola in thirty years.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was also just wonderful to have other people around.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a bit like having guests in our home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We decorated, set out desserts and even rearranged the furniture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tonight was a beautiful way to end the weekend and start a new week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;People are blessings, music is a blessing, jazz is love.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&amp;amp;friendid=262543427"&gt;Mennonite Jazz Committee's Myspace&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-2662764457250908695?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/2662764457250908695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=2662764457250908695' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2662764457250908695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/2662764457250908695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/02/jazz-is-love.html' title='Jazz is Love'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1706529447410470577</id><published>2008-01-31T18:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T18:46:19.938-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sensory Overload</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I have to admit that part of me is glad that ethnic food week is coming to an end.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Last night was Thai food and I do it wasn’t quite like Thai food at home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wasn’t a fan.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I couldn’t quite clear my plate but I’m not revealing my secret of how I got around that rule.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Tonight we had East Indian food, which was spicy and fantastic!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I think that is enough food talk for now.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This week has been incredibly busy.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Yesterday’s sessions stretched from 9am until after 10pm.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had a lot of really intense time with our teams but some of the bonding feels a little bit forced.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In our second session yesterday we were asked to take time to identify the masks that we commonly wear.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After those were identified, we broke into our teams and then confessed those… I’m glad they know what I hide behind, but do they know my favorite color?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Team dynamics are coming together but I wonder what things will look like when we’re actually out and about in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We ended our long day with a foot washing and nothing quite fosters intimacy like that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There’s something incredibly special about picking up the servant’s towel for someone, looking them in the eye, and praying for them.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today wasn’t quite as intense as yesterday but still quite full.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The man came back who spoke on evangelism.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We learned that his wife is a soul saver!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We had time to ask him questions and I feel like he still danced around answering things; he always had a kitschy little story or rhyme as an example of what to tell people to bring them to Christ.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He also taught us how to explain the gospel to other people and we got to practice on each other.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Unfortunately, neither Brianna nor I could save each other so we may be doomed…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At the end we still weren’t sold on his opinion of evangelism but neither was he sold on our side of the story.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe none of us were being as mutual and open as we’re claiming Christians should be?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1706529447410470577?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1706529447410470577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1706529447410470577' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1706529447410470577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1706529447410470577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/sensory-overload.html' title='Sensory Overload'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7588117608372869797</id><published>2008-01-29T22:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-29T22:24:37.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>When It Rains... It Snows</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think I’m finally beginning to acclimate to the weather here (but that doesn’t make me any less excited to move to a warmer climate).&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today was quite the snow, at least according to the Californian.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I opened our door this morning and was shocked to see a couple inches of snow on the ground and it was still falling.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The snow continued through the morning and some more fell this afternoon.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As cold as it was, I have to admit that it was beautiful.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s just such a testament of God’s love to see such beauty like that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There was a perfect white blanket covering everything… definitely not something I’m used to experiencing.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All in all we got about 4 or 5 inches of snow and I managed to escape the day without a snowball fight.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R6AX8nkmwJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/vZPf9_rsStQ/s1600-h/snow%21+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R6AX8nkmwJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/vZPf9_rsStQ/s320/snow%21+011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161151503148695698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;On an entirely different note, tonight was day 2 of our ethnic meals.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the girls is from &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;South Texas&lt;/st1:place&gt; so she made tostadas for dinner tonight.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a lot like home, so not much to write home about on that.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7588117608372869797?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7588117608372869797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7588117608372869797' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7588117608372869797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7588117608372869797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/when-it-rains-it-snows.html' title='When It Rains... It Snows'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R6AX8nkmwJI/AAAAAAAAAAU/vZPf9_rsStQ/s72-c/snow%21+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-6359717116707781599</id><published>2008-01-28T22:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-28T22:33:38.832-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ethnic Food Day 1—Egyptian</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This week we’re doing something pretty fun.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Each night for dinner we’re eating foods from other cultures and there are a few rules:&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;ol style="margin-top: 0in;" start="1" type="1"&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;You      must put some of everything on your plate (No “no thank you helpings” are      allowed)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;You      must eat everything that’s on your plate&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So far, so good.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of our Trek interns went to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Egypt&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; last year so for tonight she made us a dish that had rice, lentils, and pasta in it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The we added garbanzo beans, sweet onions, and then a tomato sauce.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everything is mixed together ad we dug in.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We also had tomoatos and cucumbers, SonJa said those were served with every meal.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Over dinner SonJa gave us a lecture on how important food is in other cultures.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She kept telling us stories about how people would just continually feed them even if they were stuffed.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Luke, the Trek director, was telling us about how when he was in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; when they would refuse second helpings people would ask if they didn’t like &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;India&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s crazy to see what a role food plays in different cultures.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-6359717116707781599?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/6359717116707781599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=6359717116707781599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6359717116707781599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/6359717116707781599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/ethnic-food-day-1egyptian.html' title='Ethnic Food Day 1—Egyptian'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1696861789473666912</id><published>2008-01-27T17:14:00.003-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T17:14:59.053-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Wait to Be Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;A frail lady comes up to Darlene and in a German accent says, “Are you smiling at me?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Because when I see someone smiling at me I just have to hug them!”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And without waiting for a reply she wraps her arms around Darlene’s waist in a long embrace.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When she sees me smiling at the situation she says, “You too?” I can’t help but grin and say “Yes, me too” as we hug.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She looks over at Brianna, who is a little less sure of the situation and says, “You too?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;She timidly says “sure” and receives a hug from the lady who didn’t even tell us her name.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This was my second Sunday going to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Clearbrook&lt;/st1:City&gt; &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;MB&lt;/st1:State&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; for church.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I can’t say that I’ve ever attended a drier church… but they’re doing something so right there, I am blown away by how loving the people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is a bit of a bizarre place.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When you walk in people are staring, mostly because your hair still has natural color and you don’t need assistance to get to a pew.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At the same time you feel a little bit like you stepped back in time, there are a few other young people around but they all look like they walked out of another decade.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They’re all in suits and long dresses, women have their hair tied back in buns and the men have some pretty sweet side parts (they must be practicing for their future come over)… but all in all, welcome to the 1960’s.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The preaching is a bit everywhere… I wonder if the congregation was tracking with the pastor?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The dear man who preached this morning, I was seriously worried that he might fall over in the middle of his sermon: he was just so frail.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There are hymnals and an organ, the church choir is pretty cool and every week there are numerous prayer requests for those who are ill and have passed away.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This church has a unique ministry when it comes to funerals and grieving. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;But after the service ends, everyone files into the foyer to hug, shake hands, and talk.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everyone knows who we are as soon as we say we’re part of the trek program.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One woman told us about how her and her husband started the MBMSI ministry in &lt;st1:state st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Berlin&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:State&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Another woman who is 86 years old told me about how she came over after the war with no English but a lot of faith; she spent many years praying and finally got her family over to &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Canada&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; with her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everyone asks where we’re going and tells us that they are praying for us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They love us and don’t know us… They pray for us constantly… They are Church in the best sense of the word. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1696861789473666912?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1696861789473666912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1696861789473666912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1696861789473666912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1696861789473666912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-cant-wait-to-be-old.html' title='I Can&apos;t Wait to Be Old'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-4341244788155730951</id><published>2008-01-24T21:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-24T21:32:40.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evange- Uh Oh</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This morning we had a session on evangelism… what a way to start a day.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was a bit skeptical going into the session and as it turned out I had to bite my tongue quite a few times because I didn’t feel like my thoughts were well thought through enough to not sound rude.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I understand that I don’t know the exact context that this man was coming from and I understand that he’s from a different generation than I am but I really didn’t agree with a lot of what he had to say.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He told us that he learned evangelism from a man who used the four spiritual laws.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That immediately sent up some red flags in my mind.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Also, he didn’t seem to imply that a technique like that was out dated.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He talked a lot about talking to people on the street and “winning souls”, he kept mentioning how he wished we could go out into the highways and byways and try it ourselves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The whole group pushed back against a lot of what he was saying but it didn’t seem to slow him down any.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He told us story after story about how people brought others to the Lord through tracts and conversations… Sally May has saved eight million people that way.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anytime someone is keeping count of how many people they’ve “saved” is a huge problem.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s reducing a person’s identity to another notch on a spiritual belt.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He didn’t say anything about mutuality and when I brought up the word it seemed like something foreign to him.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Personally, I don’t see where people get the audacity to knock on someone’s door and tell them that they’re not living well.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It takes a relationship, it takes trust… you can’t just get someone to say a sinner’s prayer and then walk away without the intent to disciple them.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;The best part about this is that he’s coming back next week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If he wants us to knock on doors, I may come down with a headache.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That’s something that I just can’t do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-4341244788155730951?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/4341244788155730951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=4341244788155730951' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4341244788155730951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4341244788155730951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/evange-uh-oh.html' title='Evange- Uh Oh'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7764253152207435268</id><published>2008-01-23T22:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T22:45:16.734-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Morning of Decisions</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel like I hardly slept at all last night.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I tossed and turned and had wild dreams about being sent to crazy locations.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This morning was &lt;i style=""&gt;the mornin&lt;/i&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;g&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Everyone was a little on edge and it’s safe to say that all of us had blood pressure that was a bit higher than normal.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We didn’t know how John was going to do it, but one way or another we were going to find out our teams.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We filed into the Great Room at a few minutes before nine and just sat down on the couch waiting to hear what the verdict was.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As far as any of us were concerned it was a 50% chance either way.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;John joked about not telling us teams until tomorrow, we all threaten him, the he flips a page on a large pad of paper and there it was… the list we had been waiting for.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m going to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;… &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:city&gt;, &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;!&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m incredibly excited because I know that this decision was not mine to make but God’s hand was in the middle of the process.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To be entirely honest, I was trying to prepare myself for &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Japan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For some reason I thought that I wasn’t going to get one of the spots on the team and that I had to come to peace with going somewhere else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s wonderful to see how God both calls and answers.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m really excited about my whole team.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are all marvelous people and all seeking after God.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;None of us have great Spanish skills but hopefully God will provide.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once we get there, part of our weekly routine will be studying with a Spanish tutor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re also hoping that we will be placed with host families so that our language skills will improve faster and we will get a better taste of Peruvian culture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re going to be teaching ESL, helping with youth and children’s ministry, helping with Sunday morning services, and serving at a home for women and children who are affected by HIV.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This was really a moment for me to feel affirmed in hearing God speak through other people in sometimes really unexpected ways.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s so easy to justify things according to our own desires and not take into account how God is truly moving.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It seemed that every time I would go into Galen’s office he would tell me how much I would love &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;Lima&lt;/st1:city&gt; and talking with Mike and having him call out my desire to go to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Peru&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; before I mentioned it.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was a good reminder that I don’t serve a logical God, at least not logical like I feel He should be, but I am sure blessed by Him.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R5gyi3kmwII/AAAAAAAAAAM/6GHJotbAjiQ/s1600-h/2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R5gyi3kmwII/AAAAAAAAAAM/6GHJotbAjiQ/s320/2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158928947767328898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;From top to bottom:  me; Lisa from Cannelburg, Indiana; Sarah from Williams Lake, BC; Roxy from Chilliwack, BC; Dave from St. Catherines, Ontario; and Breanne from Surey, BC... this is my team!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7764253152207435268?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7764253152207435268/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7764253152207435268' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7764253152207435268'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7764253152207435268'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/morning-of-decisions.html' title='The Morning of Decisions'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_x2VfwpJgcQQ/R5gyi3kmwII/AAAAAAAAAAM/6GHJotbAjiQ/s72-c/2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1067890232705931193</id><published>2008-01-21T23:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T23:07:16.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance Isn't Bliss... But Neither Is Being Informed.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I just got back from an Amnesty International Film Festival that was being held at a local university.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was a last minute and rushed decision to go but I’m glad Amy, Darlene, and I got the opportunity.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Darlene and I watched three films, Amy missed the second one.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The first was about &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Afghanistan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; and it was told from the perspective of three women.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It spoke a lot to the oppression of women, the American bombings, and the need to flee to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Pakistan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One of the women was a doctor and she wasn’t married… I can’t imagine what it would be like to be her.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We saw the refugee camps that are in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Pakistan&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; because of the unjust leaders that are in power.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The second was about women in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Saudi Arabia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, their oppression and the leaps that they are making to reach equality.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;A lot of the documentary was about women who are working.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is a very small percentage or women who have jobs and the ones who do get paid about half as much as men.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Even when the women are working, they’re forced to be covered and they cannot work in the same room as men.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It seems that women are slowly gaining equality but they are still not allowed to vote or drive a car.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Prince of Saudi Arabia employs a women but he does not require them to be covered, as women are required to be outside of the house or in front of men who are not immediate family according to the laws.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There seems to be something off about the prince, he only hires beautiful women among other things.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The third film we watched was on the war in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Burma&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;, how the military has taken over the country, imprisoned their elected leader, and the military troops are destroying entire villages of people.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were points made like &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Britain&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is one of the largest financial contributors to the situation in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Burma&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Another factor is the French and the Americans who are getting natural gas from &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Burma&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; and the military uses forced labor to build, guard, and maintain the pipelines.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The film on &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Burma&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; predated the protests of the monks.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s so hard to swallow so much of this.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sometimes it makes me feel a bit ill to be a North American knowing that my country has been, at the very least, financially responsible for so much mass injustice.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As a North American, How do I deal with this?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As a Christian, how do I deal with these issues.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What needs to take place for people to become aware of what is actually going on in the world?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today one of our sessions was on bearing burdens.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In light of what I heard today, how are we as Christians called to bear the burdens of injustice in our world?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do we just hand them over to God and go about our merry way?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Do we hold on to them as a way of remembering bringing forth change?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Is there a happy medium, can we both hand things over to God and still feel the same importance or searching after justice and shalom?&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;If you want the names of the films, I can get them, the paper is currently downstairs.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1067890232705931193?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1067890232705931193/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1067890232705931193' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1067890232705931193'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1067890232705931193'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/ignorance-isnt-bliss-but-neither-is.html' title='Ignorance Isn&apos;t Bliss... But Neither Is Being Informed.'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-7175218022468946177</id><published>2008-01-19T22:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T22:11:53.950-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ikea Run!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today we spent the afternoon at Ikea.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We all fell in love with the cute dishes and the beautiful living room set-ups and the general coziness of a home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It made me so excited to have my own place to live next year.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’m so stoked to live in Tower with Jenn and the other wonderful girls who will live with us.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I wonder if I’ll feel like a real adult then… when I’m renting a house.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m among the oldest in the Trek group and sometimes it makes for an interesting dynamic.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For a lot of the girls this is the first time they’ve moved out of their parents’ home.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Part of me can’t imagine this being the first step into the “real world” but at the same time this really isn’t the “real world” at all…&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is such a safe and open environment.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’re constantly together: learning, eating, cleaning, working, and sometimes even sleeping.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s really a cool way to be experiencing community; I hope this provides a good growing up and a good transition point for a lot of these girls.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-7175218022468946177?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/7175218022468946177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=7175218022468946177' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7175218022468946177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/7175218022468946177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/ikea-run.html' title='Ikea Run!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1743064740576960145</id><published>2008-01-14T21:54:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-14T21:54:49.006-08:00</updated><title type='text'>God Give Me Joy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today on our schedule it was marked, “Day Trip… Caving?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hiking?”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today in the weather forecast was a large storm.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Great…&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This morning at about 10am, through the doors of The Mark Centre came the man who was leading our excursion and some interns in a program that he runs.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We chat for a while, we sing together, we pack our lunches, and we hit the road… while it’s raining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We drive a little over an hour in some direction and get out of the cars into the snow and begin hiking… while it’s raining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We explore some old tunnels that have previously been used for railroads but are currently abandoned... while it’s raining.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Needless to say I was cold, wet, and not the most cheerful person in this group.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I kept stepping in puddles that soaked through my shoes, the tunnels kept dripping on me, and my hood was not very functional.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It sure doesn’t rain like that in the central valley and if it does outdoor plans get canceled.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I kept repeating to myself “God give me joy”.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once I finally embraced my surroundings I was able to take in the beauty of the nature I was being surrounded by regardless of the rain.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were running streams, beautiful tall trees, and mossy rocks everywhere and everything had a dusting of snow left on it.&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shortly after I embraced where I was, we piled back into the vans because now we were going to explore some caves.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have to admit my attitude was quite a bit better.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My friend Sarah and I laughed and joked as we followed the trail and then we entered the mouth of the cave.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There were about twenty people and two flashlights.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Regardless of your division skills, you should realize that the ratio of people to flashlights was certainly not in our favor.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But we trudged on anyhow and I quite enjoyed my brief stint as a spelunker&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The rest of my evening was spent reading.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We’ve been assigned to read &lt;i style=""&gt;The Life You’ve Always Wanted&lt;/i&gt; by John Ortberg.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s a book on spiritual disciples that we have to finished in a little less than a week.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I started the book today and I got through all the chapters or introduction and the first chapter that was about a specific discipline was all about joy and celebration.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I loved the quote from Lewis Smedes that says, “To miss out on joy is to miss out on the reason for your existence.”&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love seeing God move so clearly and seeing how my entire day is tied together and not by accident. &lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1743064740576960145?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1743064740576960145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1743064740576960145' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1743064740576960145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1743064740576960145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/god-give-me-joy.html' title='God Give Me Joy!'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-1871830590630262736</id><published>2008-01-08T23:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-01-08T23:08:33.614-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reclaiming God's Word As a Narrative</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Last night we sat around as a group (twelve trekers and the Mark Centre Intern, Elli) and we read the entire book of Mark.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;One person would read a chapter and then another… what a beautiful way to dive deep into scripture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So often we forget that the Bible is meant to be a story, a letter, a whole piece of literature rather that something to be dissected chapter by chapter and verse by verse.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;There is something so beautiful about looking at scripture the way it was meant to be read.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s funny that we think we can just pick a chapter or a section, read that, and then go on to something else.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I don’t know anyone who starts a book in the middle and then doesn’t read more than a page or two before skipping to another section.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I suppose if we all made it a habit to read more books in such a confusing way then we would all be finishing a lot fewer books.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Maybe there’s a correlation to why I know I don’t pick up my bible enough.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If I’m not looking at is as a whole piece of literature then I’m not seeing it for what it is.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If I’m dissecting something with a pseudo regard to context then I’m clearly doing a great injustice to something that is intended to be part of a greater picture.&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-1871830590630262736?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/1871830590630262736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=1871830590630262736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1871830590630262736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/1871830590630262736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2008/01/reclaiming-gods-word-as-narrative.html' title='Reclaiming God&apos;s Word As a Narrative'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7480948180063616575.post-4706136362326808435</id><published>2007-12-16T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-12-16T18:27:24.758-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Three Weeks and Counting...</title><content type='html'>I leave in a little less than three weeks and I really need to figure out how this thing works before I go.  Currently my biggest apprehensions are how cold it will be in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Abbotsford&lt;/span&gt; and figuring out how to pack for six months.  I'm just banking on the fact that if those are my biggest worries then I'm doing alright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7480948180063616575-4706136362326808435?l=laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/feeds/4706136362326808435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7480948180063616575&amp;postID=4706136362326808435' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4706136362326808435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7480948180063616575/posts/default/4706136362326808435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://laurasuzanneadams.blogspot.com/2007/12/three-weeks-and-counting.html' title='Three Weeks and Counting...'/><author><name>Laura Adams</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17850327123810059621</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
