Episode 10: Out of the Overflow

It's been a remarkably dry 'rainy season' this year, as
evidenced by this dusty road near our house.

Speaking of roads, these cars were getting a layer of mud applied so as to
prepare for the carnage of Carnaval (they spray paint at you here). A not
uncommon sight.

Sam in silly-selfie mode. There's definitely a west-of-Scotland thing going on here.

Remember Mariana from Trinidad? She graduated from Etnos last week! This
is a seminary with a particular focus on tribal missions and unreached peoples.
Here she is with husband  Nathan (they married just a couple of months ago).
Craig has known her since she was just eight years old and, of course, we served
alongside her at Fundación Totaí for many years. What a joy to see her graduate!

Sam with his friend Zoe, at church.

More of the same. I think that's quite enough for now.

Prayer Points

• We are busy, but very much serving from 'the overflow of the abundance' of God's grace. It's an exciting place to be. Give thanks.
• Give thanks for the progress we are seeing in Sam.
• Give thanks for the opportunity to come alongside other church and ministry leaders in Santa Cruz in the last month.
• Pray for our upcoming travels: Amanda to Cochabamba and Oruro (11th-14th), Craig to Scotland (17th-26th).
• Pray for the Langham event taking place today (Saturday 7th) and for preparations for the Level 1/2 event in June.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Episode 3: The Zombie Apodcalypse

La Paz: Latin Link Retreat

Prayer walk with the team.

Token team photo.

La Paz: Community Church & The Hunt Family

Up a big hill with Mark (you're always up a hill in La Paz).

Sam with Rebecca.

The ever-developing La Paz cable-car system never ceases to enthral us. This
new blue line takes you literally to the centre of town (think Buchanan Street
subway station, but for cable-cars).

Ben on the left, Meghan on the right, Sam too tired to pose.

The following images are taken from a walk up the Muela del Diablo, the
spectacular rock formation you can see on the right-hand side here.
Disclaimer no.1: this is not my photo.

Disclaimer no.2: we drove most of the way in a mighty Lada.

Sam's ubiquitous goldfish crackers. They taste even better
at altitude.

La Paz Community Church.

One of LPCC's attendees is our old friend Dave McColl, now working as
the Samaritan's Purse chief in Bolivia. Mark called this a Scottish sandwich,
so I suppose that makes him a lorne sausage.

The Hunts' dog, Chumita, more than made up for Napoleon's absence in Sam's eyes.

The Band

The poster.

All set!

Some footage from our sound-check:

And here's our playlist. All covers, of course! The U2 and Ben E. King numbers were 'mashed-up'. Craig sang lead on Change The World, These Days and I'm On My Way, which doubled both as our encore and as an excuse to change into a 1978 Scotland shirt.

There are plenty more photos and videos from the concert. Send us an email if you'd like to see more.

Prayer Points

• Give thanks for a great time in La Paz, both at the Latin Link retreat and with friends old and new.
• Give thanks for a terrific gig on Tuesday and the opportunity to bless the Novo rehabilitation programme in this way.
• Pray for Sam at school; his behaviour has taken a bit of a nosedive recently.
• Pray for Bolivia as the country goes to the polls for the presidential elections on the 20th.
• Pray for Joe Stoneham, a new Latin Link worker who will be staying with us for a few days next week.
• Pray for the first meeting of Craig's Langham escuelita, on the 23rd.
• Pray for the launch of the church's new midweek meeting, next Thursday (17th).
• Pray for our time with our house-guest this week, Yoselín.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig, Amanda & Sam

Are you listening?

I was going to start this post with an apology for not having posted very much recently. Then I realised I’d be sounding like the proverbial broken record.

When first we came out to Bolivia nearly a decade ago, we were on the lookout for an easy way to keep our friends and supporters appraised as to our news. And so, we surfed the blogging wave, very much in vogue at that time. It was fresh. It was instant. And we had the self-discipline to ensure that it was regular.

That was certainly the case for the first five years or so. However, parenthood, as it is in the habit of doing, altered things somewhat. Looking at the blog archive (on the right-hand side here), I’m somewhat amazed to note that we managed 44 posts with a baby in tow in 2016: not far off a post per week. But that was to plummet to 18 in 2017, a mere ten last year (we had our reasons, mind) and an as-it-stands total for 2019 of…six!

Now given our experiences in recent years, we probably have a healthier outlook on time-management and supporter accountability; we know that supporters can cope if they don’t hear from us every week, and to be honest, if you look back at some of those earlier posts, they barely get beyond a functional list of accomplishments for the week. We can certainly live without that, and doubtless so can you.

Nevertheless, even given the new and more balanced status quo, our friends and supporters ought to be able to hear more from us than just the occasional email news update. And wasn’t this whole blogging thing supposed to be fun too?

Well, we think we might have just come upon a solution. And we’re not too proud to admit that it’s a total rip-off!

Something I (Craig) enjoy doing in my spare time, particularly in the car or when exercising, is listening to podcasts. For all my interest in these, it had never crossed my mind to start one myself; I assumed you needed a significant investment in gear, for one thing, and what on earth did I have to say anyway?

That was till a couple of months ago, when some missionary friends of ours launched their own podcast, primarily as a method to update their friends and supporters – just as we had set out to do with the blog all those years ago. They did so with the most basic of equipment and with minimal preparation and recording time – unlike those blog-posts, which were sometimes taking us up to half a day to produce.

Moreover, it was conversational in tone, as close to being ‘in the room’ with them as it was possible to be; hearing their voices rather than seeing their written words made a huge difference. And, yes, on occasion, it was fun too!

And so, for better or worse, we have decided to go down a similar path. We hope to upload new episodes about once every couple of weeks at least, at an appropriate length to give you a decent update without overstaying our welcome. At the same time, we’d like to use the new format to maintain something we always wished to achieve with the blog: namely, give people something of a backstage pass to the world of missions and its assorted quirks. 

We hope to keep the format of each episode fairly simple. We will open with a little bit of our personal and ministry news, and we will close with some relevant prayer points. 

In between these bookends, we hope in the longer-term to bring something different to the table each week; for example, something of our personal testimony, or an interview with some fellow worker, or a conversation about a particular aspect of missionary life (e.g., what is Christmas like when you’re so far from home all the time?). The possibilities seem endless, and we’d be particularly keen to receive any suggestions or questions for possible conversation topics.

So is this the end of the blog then? No way! We aim to use the blog to complement the content generated by the podcast, and vice-versa. We would still hope to post about once a month to that end.

Furthermore, we will upload each new podcast episode to this very website. And on that note, if you still want to get our news but have no interest in listening to yet another podcast, we will post a written bullet-pointed summary of our prayer points with each episode uploaded here.

And so, without further ado, please give the ‘Los Cunningham’ podcast a listen whether here or through your usual podcast provider. And if you can’t quite manage that right now, please keep in mind the points listed below for prayer in the coming days and weeks.

Here goes nothing! 

Prayer Points

• Give thanks for our three weeks in Canada. It was a little crazy, but we were encouraged to see friends and family, to visit churches, and that we didn't collapse in the process!
• Give thanks for how well Sam is doing at his new school, which is an English-language Christian school.
• Please pray for Sam (and by extension, for the two of us) on Sunday mornings at church, which he is finding challenging just now.
• Pray for the preparations for the Langham Preaching Level 1 workshop in Santa Cruz, which is taking place from the 21st till the 24th of September. Pray for Craig as he leads this effort.
• Pray for us as a family as we adjust to a slightly busier pace of life.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Cunningham

Are You Washed?

"Well, I bet they don't mention that in their prayer letters!"

Such was my internal reaction a few years ago upon first visiting the home of a missionary family here in Bolivia. Over the years, we'd learned of overseas Christian workers occasionally abusing the long leash they have been granted -- in some cases we'd experienced this at first hand. For many it was a case of destructive behaviour towards colleagues and even family members; for others, the relative cheapness of the developing world had afforded a lifestyle of opulence well beyond their reach in the west -- and one that, alas, doubled as a fortress to put them well beyond the reach of the locals they were supposed to be helping.

So when I walked through the door that day and the first thing that jumped out to me was the swimming pool, an eyebrow involuntarily raised itself. (As it happened, this family had very wisely -- and cost-effectively -- simply dug a big hole in the garden while building their house, tiled it, and filled it with water.)

My inverse-pool-snobbery, however, has long since died a death. For it was in the September heat of last year that I practically crawled into a local toy shop, pointed gaspingly to the biggest inflatable paddling pool they had, handed over the dosh, motored home with a newly-acquired pump, let the hose run for about an hour, and without further ado, gleefully fully-immersed myself ("once a baptist...") in an extra-large DIY bath. I did it for Sam, of course.

It's spring here again and the Trinidad mercury is rising; 35 Celsius with humidity. The rainy-season levees are yet to break. And all the while, Sam's paddling-pool is fast becoming a permanent fixture of our front garden; in many ways, simply a damper, cooler extension of our front living room. Wonderfully, it's a place where the three of us can be in close proximity and not in any way irritate each another. And it's a place that's hosted a fair few children and their parents just in the last two or three weeks. While Sam and friends have beavered away to recover the Lego city of Atlantis (that's when he's not chucking the pieces), we've had several great conversations with friends and neighbours. 

Look! People coming to our house again! Our very willingness to open our doors as before is another sure sign of God's healing work in our hearts of late. What joy to break bread with friends, waist-deep in mud-tinged water in the company of inflatable superheroes. Now just watch for those Lego pieces where you sit, mind.

Prayer Points

• Last week, I (Craig) neglected to mention that at the Latin Link retreat, I was elected to serve on Latin Link Bolivia's executive committee. In a nutshell, this will require me to meet with my fellow committee members four times a year in order to oversee the general direction of the Latin Link Bolivia team: planning events, making sure everyone is being well looked after, and ensuring Bolivia is playing its part in meeting Latin Link's strategic objectives. I appreciate your prayers for myself, Julie Noble (left) and Graham Frith (far right). Louis Woodley, second-from-right, is the outgoing (in more than one sense!) team leader. We give thanks for his wise and humble leadership of the team in our first two years.

• Here are some other recent 'poolside' guests: José and Katyana, a young couple who have recently started coming along to the church and helping in various areas. Give thanks for a nice afternoon with them last Sunday.
• Sam's behaviour has largely improved this week; he has been a lot more cooperative as he has become more settled here. Give thanks.
• Please also pray for a couple in our church who are having some marriage difficulties just now. Amanda was able to spend time with the wife in the last week, and it was a great example of God using our somewhat traumatic recent experiences to indirectly help others. Still, please keep that couple -- who we will not name here -- in your prayers.
• Though we have only been back for a month now, we feel we have a much more sustainable pattern of life and ministry in place. Give thanks.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig, Amanda & Sam

MAINT REQD

Pedro wasn't exactly a rock. In the quest to get from Point A to Point B, he certainly didn't lack for willingness or ingenuity; you could certainly say he was driven. But last year, after several years of radiators leaking, windows jamming, and exhaust pipes clunking to the ground in the middle of town, we regretfully agreed to go our separate ways. Like Pedro, our current car is a Toyota RAV4. Unlike Pedro, said replacement remains nameless; perhaps experience has taught us to be doubly wary about getting too personal.

We like our car. It is bigger, it has a decent sound-system, and when encouraged, it will go some. Moreover, if you want a little fresh air in the searing Trinidad heat, you don't always have to attempt to open the door mid-drive (seriously, Pedro!). 

But something I noted early on, and of which I've been reminded upon our return, is a display on the dashboard that, given its content, can only be described as disconcertingly perennial: 'MAINT REQD'.

In a cultural context where people can be somewhat lax about keeping appointments, MAINT REQD will never let you down. It is the light that never fades; the HAL 9000 on our Discovery One; the meat in the Point-A-to-Point-B sandwich. It is never knowingly underilluminated. 

It soon became clear to me that we had something of a thorn in the flesh. Why this was, I couldn't quite decipher. At first, I surmised that, given that our new car was of a younger generation, perhaps it was of a more sensitive disposition. More likely, it's a light that alerts us not so much to issues with the car as its context: many a reliable vehicle has met its fate in the dusty, pot-hole-ridden streets of Trinidad. You could practically assign a mechanic to a single car in Trinidad and he would have a job for life; but of course, our financial support only gets us so far.

Rather than let the omnipresent MAINT REQD get me down, in recent weeks I've come to see it as something of a grace; indeed, a reminder of lessons lately learned: that at every point in our lives, no matter how well-oiled the machine would appear to be, MAINT is always REQD.

And because of this, we are thankful to be part of the Latin Link Bolivia team, which has made care for its members a high priority. In addition to the annual team conference, each member of the team is assigned a pastoral care partner, with both parties required to check in with each other regularly. Furthermore, an annual retreat is organised. Last week, we attended the 2018 edition, in Santa Cruz.

A few months ago, when we realised the retreat would take place so soon after our return to Bolivia, it seemed something of an inconvenience. As usual, we entered the country in Santa Cruz, and so unless we stayed in the city for two weeks (at no small expense), our best course of action was to get up to Trinidad for a mere ten days to get Sam into school and the house in order...all before coming back to Santa Cruz again. Furthermore, what with all the counselling and enforced rest in Scotland, weren't we, of all team members, in least need of yet more introspective R&R? 

However, if I may paraphrase Simon Peter, it was good for us to be there. Indeed, the timing couldn't have been better. We had used our first week in Trinidad to attend largely to practical matters; by the time we arrived back in Santa Cruz, I hadn't yet got back to my 'desk'. For all the progress made in Scotland, some false expectations as to our abilities and limitations still lingered. This was a timely intervention and my first 'proper' week back in Trinidad has been all the better for it.

"If your output exceeds your input, your shortfall will be your downfall." These wise words enabled me to see more clearly the danger of ignoring the daily MAINT REQD light. 

And so, I resolved to get up at 5:30 each day to enshrine my daily time with God, well before Sam and Amanda surface. This is no burden: I am a morning person by nature, and I find in creation's sunrise doxologies no end of inspiration.

I resolved to contact my mentors and accountability partners around the world and get our next dates for chatting in place.

I resolved to forget about any significant new ministries, such as that temptation I'd felt to get involved again in our struggling youth group after hearing about its recent struggles -- as if anyone would really be helped by the missionary with the messiah complex riding in to save the day.

Perhaps most crucially of all, I accepted that the time I spent looking after an all-action three-year-old son -- and the great physical exertions this demanded of me -- was part of my calling in this moment in time, and so I needed to keep most evenings clear in order to build up my reserves again, and get to bed at a decent time. Where evening ministry commitments could not be cancelled, I resolved to balance those with a rest period of the same duration on that day.

The MAINT REQD light takes many forms, but take it from an expert: when it appears on your own dashboard, don't ignore it, even if it never goes away. Especially if it never goes away! Do not despise the Lord's MAINT in your life. He knows what he's doing.

Token Group Photo Alert!

Prayer Points

• Give thanks for another special few days with the Latin Link Bolivia team (pictured, above), and for the great help we all received from our time at the retreat.
• Give thanks for a lot of new faces around the church; we've been enjoying getting to meet some of them in recent weeks. We will be having a young, gifted couple called José and Katyana round for lunch this Sunday.
• Keep Sam in your prayers; we're still experiencing some difficult behaviour as he continues to adjust to Trinidad (we are thankful that the Santa Cruz visit will be our last time out of Trinidad as a family for some time).
• Pray for preparation for the Langham Level 4 training weekend, which takes place at the end of this month. It will be the last such training opportunity for our group here in Trinidad, well over three years since the group was established. The goal after Level 4 is that the members of the group will then go on and establish new preaching groups throughout the city. 

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Tenemos Esperanza

The view from our bedroom of a typically beniano sunset last night. Welcome home.

Last Tuesday morning, it came to me again. It came to me, as it so often does, in a moment of tedium, as I was hoovering a patch of the carpet in Sam's bedroom, in preparation for leaving our rented flat just a few hours later. It came to me without warning, and without my realising it. And only a few minutes later did I realise I was once again whistling the melody of 'Tenemos Esperanza'. 

Since I learned this amazing modern hymn back in February in Guatemala, I very much doubt a day has gone by that this veritable earworm, with its incessant tango rhythm, hasn't passed my lips, so to speak (you can read more about the hymn's story and composition here). It is a hymn that reminds us of Christ's incarnation and all that entailed, and therefore as Christians, 'hoy tenemos esperanza' ('we have hope today'), even in the midst of dire circumstances such as those witnessed by its author, and many others in Latin America in recent decades. 

And as I turned off the hoover for a moment and thought for the first time in a months about what I was whistling, mere hours before we were to begin that long journey back to Bolivia and the place where all hope had previously seemed lost, the song took on greater significance. Yes, indeed: we all, as believers, have hope, a hope that can enable us to press on in all circumstances. And that truth is as valid for Amanda, Sam and me as a family, in the particular circumstances we face, as it is for the entire family of God worldwide. Nosotros tenemos esperanza!

It was at this point that I then remembered another hymn we had learned that wonderful week in Guatemala, a hymn that back then had found me in something of a 'valley' and had moved me to tears. Indeed, only the hardest of hearts could have remained unmoved as the song built to a momentous climax and a united people from many tribes and nations in that hall proclaimed,

You will restore the earth, and forever you will reign

and from the face of your people, you will wipe every tear.

To you be all glory, all honour and majesty,

Hope of the nations, our Prince of Peace.

Our hope is, indeed, in the Esperanza de los Pueblos, and all the greater for it. 

In all of this, our gracious God was simply trying to drive home a point previously made. In the previous few weeks, two separate parties, unknown to one another, had commended to us Romans 15:13, which says

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

"You are finally getting this, aren't you?" I could almost hear him whisper in my ear in that empty flat.

The six months in Scotland were merely the start of a long journey. A highly positive start, indeed, but burnout can take up to two years to recover from, and we are seeing that in action. In fact, in many ways -- many positive ways -- we will never quite shake the impact of this past year for the rest of our lives. Back in Bolivia, as we unpack our cases, re-establish old connections, and take steps back in to ministry, we find ourselves in a new crucible in which the Master Smelter can continue his refining work; all of it necessary, much of it very painful. 

But for the first time in a long, long time, we can declare these two precious words with confidence: Tenemos esperanza. And for that, we are excited and grateful.

Prayer Points

• Give thanks for a safe arrival in Trinidad on Saturday, at the end of a pretty exhausting few days! Our route was Edinburgh-Frankfurt-Sao Paulo with Lufthansa (with a separate onward flight to Santa Cruz), and our connection time in Frankfurt was already fairly tight. This was only exacerbated by our delay in leaving Edinburgh last Tuesday evening. We pretty much ran the length of the terminal at Frankfurt...only to arrive literally a couple of minutes after the doors had been closed! And mindful of the airport's late-night curfew, the airline were not for letting us on. This meant we couldn't fly till the same time (10pm) the next day, and we knew the airline would look after us during that time. However, a complication for us was that Sam, as a Bolivian, is only permitted up to twelve hours of transit time, and he is also required to stay in the airport. Mercifully, the transport police were sympathetic to us, and allowed us to stay overnight in the hotel Lufthansa had arranged for us. Having already booked a night in a hotel in Sao Paulo, we simply cancelled that reservation and were able to make the Thursday morning flight to Santa Cruz a few hours after arriving in Brazil. We stayed in Santa Cruz with friends while attending to one or two administrative matters, and set off on Saturday morning for the day-long drive back to Trinidad (our car had been in Santa Cruz since March).
• Give thanks for a really lovely day on Sunday, when we were able to spend a lot of time catching up with people here, thanks to a church lunch and a little birthday celebration for a friend in the evening.
• If we're honest, we're still a little exhausted after last week's exertions. Pray for energy as we re-establish ourselves here this week.
• Please pray particularly for Sam. As far as we can tell, the language adjustment hasn't been an issue, and he's enjoying his daycare. However, there has been a little naughtiness as he's clearly still working things out here again. Pray for patience for us both in dealing with this.
• Finally for now, pray for preparations for the Latin Link Bolivia retreat, which will be taking place next week back in Santa Cruz (mercifully we're flying!).

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig, Amanda & Sam

Saturday Post -- 17/02/18

Missionaries, eh?

We are now back, safely ensconced in Trinidad, but when we last wrote, our Guatemalan experience was only just beginning. So allow me to fill you in.

We made the most of our remaining time by Lake Atitlán, mostly slumming it by the pool, but also taking a boat ride one day for a little tour of the surrounding villages and towns, where Mayan culture continues to live large. 

Antigua, Guatemala's former capital city (helpfully,
'Antigua' means former).

However, our main reason for being in the Central American republic was, of course, Latin Link's International Assembly, back in Guatemala City, a four-hour drive from the lake on the morning of the 1st. The IA is a gathering of most of Latin Link's missionaries and support workers and takes place every four years. We have only been members of Latin Link for around 18 months and have just about got the hang of the Bolivia team, so while we knew it was probably the right thing to attend, we weren't exactly jumping for joy at the prospect of seeing old friends. So it was perhaps inevitable that the whole shebang surpassed our expectations, but it did so to an extent we had not anticipated; indeed, if you'll permit me a hackneyed cliché, I'd go so far as to call it a 'game-changer' (that hurt!).

La-la-la-la-la-la banda.

If you know my family, you may not be entirely surprised to know that the music at the IA was particularly special for me, though again, this in fact all rather snuck up on me. A few months ago, when the appeal went out for Latin Linkers to sign up to play in the band, I threw my hat in the ring with all the inevitability of an Olympic doping controversy. Because Cunninghams 'n' that. But as the IA approached, and with our family circumstances becoming increasingly challenging, I wondered if it might be best for me to sit this one out. As ever, Amanda knew best, encouraging me to go for it, knowing what a lift it would give me.

The joys were threefold. Firstly, I got to connect with a bunch of similarly somewhat-limited-but-willing people who loved the Lord and wanted to use such gifts to honour him; as a group, we gelled remarkably quickly. Secondly, we were led by the one person who was anything but limited: Santiago Benavides; missionary, musician, poet, artist to his fingernails. And, above all, a great disciple of the Lord, whose every utterance seemed bathed in thankfulness, and who, unlike the vast majority of Latin American Christian recording artists (whose output is largely driven by the immigrant market in the USA) espouses a most grounded, Latin American theology. 'Santi', from Colombia, was as patient and humble as he was professional. It was a privilege for all of us to serve with him (more here). 

A kids' programme was laid on for the likes of Sam.

Thirdly, and probably most crucially, for the first time in years I went back to my bass-twangin' roots, without the bothersome distraction of a microphone in my face. 'Twas very heaven.

With over 150 present from all over the western hemisphere in the morning sessions, the music inevitably had to cater to a range of cultures, and while Spanish was the main sung language, French, Portuguese, German and English songs also made occasional appearances. In the end, not a voice was muted and what could have been awkward became, under Santi's able direction, a spine-tingling foretaste of the new creation.

Mike Fernández, Cornhill cohort.

While I made lots of new friends in the music group, there were a few more of our old acquaintances in attendance outside of our Bolivia team. Peruvian Mike Fernández is now Latin Link's Scottish coordinator, a fair compensation having had the 'pleasure' of my company at Cornhill Scotland four years ago. A fair few missionaries from LAM Canada (which remains our main sending agency) were also present; with the Colombians LAM-ers, we staged a Super Bowl Sunday mid-conference caper (alas, Amanda and I had a long-standing engagement to attend to during the second-half). 

Our fellow Canadians.

Aside from the social stuff, the IA provided a daily diet of plenary sessions covering big, important themes for the world of missions (such as mobilisation, the changing nature of missions), and workshops dealing with more day-to-day practical issues (such as self-care, leadership and working with Millennials). We both gleaned great practical insight from these sessions.

An afternoon workshop.

The main order of business at the IA was welcoming Latin Link's new International Team Leader, Paul Turner, who assumes the role from Alan Tower (a great, warm guy, who served for many years in Bolivia, and who is moving on to Friends International). Amanda and I are really excited to be working under Paul, who, along with his wife, Ruth, we got to know well last year when they attended our Bolivia team meeting. They are a couple with a great interest in people and were a great encouragement to us. We are looking forward to seeing them again later this year, God-willing, at the Scottish conference.

Latin Link's World Cup winners, needless to say. A celtic conglomerate.

All said and done, the International Assembly proved well worth the airfare. What an encouragement to see what God is doing in Latin America; in particular, the increasing numbers of Latin Americans who are themselves bringing the good news to neighbouring countries, to Spain, or, indeed, to the Middle East (where they are, inevitably, much more welcome than the pastier-faced of this world). We are thrilled that Latin Link is actively facilitating such developments. And what a privilege to spend a week in the company of so many others with a love for God and for this corner of the globe. We're not alone, after all!

I'll close with a confession. As effusive as we try to be on this here blog, for the past few years we have often wondered if the time has come to pack up and head back to some kind of ministry back in Scotland; if anything, this has probably been driven by a combination of the relative isolation of Trinidad and the desire simply to be back among friends and family, more so than any real 'calling'. The International Assembly, for us, was confirmation that the Latin missions world is where we still belong. Whether that still means Trinidad, Bolivia, is a question for another day. For the moment, we're just thankful for the opportunity that Guatemala provided -- both for rest and for support -- and excited to see what our great God has in store. All glory, praise and thanks be to the 'Esperanza de las naciones'.

Prayer

• We arrived back in La Paz last Saturday, which was convenient, as our first big job after the IA was getting Sam's UK visa paperwork submitted (if you aren't aware, we're hoping to travel in late March for a six-month stay). However, being Carnaval weekend, we weren't able to hand over the documents till Wednesday morning, which required us to stay in La Paz a few more days; we were well looked after by a friend who lives in a quiet spot outside the city. Anyway, we appreciate your prayers that this application will be granted (what could possibly go wrong?).
• Sam starts his day-care again next week. You can pray for that.
• Assuming the visa gets the green light, we have just three-and-a-half weeks to finalise things here in Trinidad. Pray for focus, energy and patience.

Praise

• Our stay in Guatemala was also prolonged as the Latin Link Bolivia team opted to have our own two-day annual business meeting straight after the IA. Anyway, it was a good meeting and we had a particularly encouraging afternoon praying for one another.
• Guatemala also saw Amanda's mother, Selene, head back to Canada at the end of two months with us. She was a huge help during a challenging time for us, particularly in taking care of Sam. Give thanks for family.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 16/12/17

Mother and conjunctivitis-riddled son, washing dishes
together, Wednesday morning. With hindsight, maybe
not the brightest of ideas.

Freak. Demon-eyes. Pinko. Alien spawn. Watermelon woman.

At this time of year, with its great emphasis upon giving and receiving among loved ones, the above is a mere sampling of the good-natured insults that Amanda and I have exchanged. Yep, you've probably already guessed it. This week, we were given the gift of conjunctivitis.

Trinidad has been in the midst of something of an epidemic these past weeks. For most of the last month, a good number of our friends in the community have been struck down by the highly contagious pink fiend; albeit, to varying degrees. By last weekend, we had somehow managed to steer clear of it, and assumed we were home and dry.

That was until Sunday night, when I felt some low-level itching and throbbing in the middle of the night, and struggled to get back to sleep. Sure enough, the mirror confirmed the worst, and Sam was next in the firing line. Still, for us lads, said mirror and Amanda's barbs were the only reminders of our ocular abnormality; the pain and irritation were minimal. Any pink remaining was of a decidedly Financial Times hue.

So we were glad that the worst seemed to have passed, and especially that Amanda had somehow kept out of its path of destruction.

That was until I woke up on Thursday morning next to an extra from a Star Trek episode set on Planet Zug-Zug. Overnight, Amanda's eyes had swollen to the size of small rugby balls (and more league than union, I might add). Not that I could see them, as it took vast quantities of chamomile tea (supposedly the best solution) just to be able to open the eyelids, stuck together with no end of gunge and gloop. Dynamite wouldn't have gone amiss. The eyes themselves were blood-red and highly painful. A few hours later, she was gripped by a fever. 

Sam shows off a little stable decoration he made at the club
this week.

All this, and Sam's tearing around the house like Hurricane Humphrey. Did this have to happen during the school holidays?

Anyway, with a little help from good friends, we were able to subcontract Sam's care, and I was freed up a little to attend to Amanda, whose eyes haven't shaken off that redness, but the pain is significantly reduced and they have reverted to their normal, beautiful, shape.

Working, as we do, in a health institute, meant we were necessarily based at home for the whole week, and that enabled me to work on end-of-year updates for FT sponsors and our own supporters, as well as starting to prepare for next weekend's Christmas Eve service, where I'll be giving a short evangelistic talk.

On that note, Sam's been able to get along to holiday club again this week, where much of the activity is building towards that same Christmas Eve service. And on Monday, he had his little end-of-year show with his class from school, in which he more than held his own in the much sought-after part of Bunny Rabbit #3. 

Sam with one of his teachers, Valeria,
on Monday evening.

Oh, and Amanda's Mum is arriving on Tuesday for an extended visit. I do hope she packs her goggles. 

Prayer

• That Amanda recovers soon from her conjunctivitis.
• For Amanda's mother's (Selene) travels over the next few days.

Praise

• For Sam's largely cooperative behaviour during these difficult days.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda

Saturday Post -- 09/12/17

Daddy & Sam on chairlift, Cochabamba.

We have had an unintended blogpost holiday, and it wasn’t until we got  message from someone mentioning how they missed our updates that we noticed. Oops. Sorry. The truth is that last weekend we were in Cochabamba for our 18-month Latin Link review and the weekend before that, well, I have no idea. It was too long ago, but apparently, we were busy. 

I (Amanda) can’t report on our activities from two weeks ago (as I can’t remember), but I can tell you that Cochabamba was fun. It involved good food, Man U football (for Craig) and late-night chats with friends (and a soft play adventure for Sam). We stayed with Jimmy and Brigitte Fernandez, fellow Latin Linkers, and Brigitte completed our review with us on the Friday. For those of you who don’t know, to fully join Latin Link you have to complete their two-year Stride program first. Essentially, it’s a two-year short-term program where you are supervised by the in-country Latin Link short term coordinator (Brigitte). So even though Craig and I have been in Bolivia for almost eight years now, we are technically short-termers with Latin Link. Once we complete our two years (next September), we will then be classed as full-term. One of the responsibilities of the short-term coordinator is to do six-monthly reviews with those under their care, hence our 18-month review. The review was intensive, and it was refreshing to go over all the good and bad of the last six months with someone who understands. 

We have horses in the streets in Trinidad, too; they can
usually be found rummaging around the garbage
at the end of our street.

The truth is that we have so many filters that we consciously or subconsciously apply to ourselves when we have conversations with anyone. The filters can be multi-layered with some people, or completely different with others. I guess as Christians, we sometimes use the phrase ‘the Sunday mask’ to kind of start talking about the topic of authenticity, but I think ‘filters’ goes further than that, and I think we do it with everyone. I choose to deepen conversations or not depending on who I am talking to and my past experiences with this person. I choose to share things or not with people depending on the person’s background and personal experiences. I choose to be vulnerable or not with friends and family based on how I think they are going to react. I filter. The person that anybody is the most unfiltered with is usually the person they are closest to, but even then, there are filters. I am definitely the most unfiltered with Craig, but I still have to filter. Maybe I present information or a scenario to him in a considered way that will most appeal to him, or I choose a moment to share bad news that I know would be better than another. This is still filtering. 

Why am I talking about filtering? Because missionaries to have filter a lot. I don’t know if we have to filter more than other people, as I have not been a lawyer, doctor, investment banker, teacher, etc. However, I definitely feel like I have to filter more than I did before I became a missionary and its exhausting. We filter what we say and how we say it to the people we are working with here in Bolivia. We have to constantly be aware of being culturally sensitive, and yet be assertive and authoritative in what we say. We have to know when to show vulnerability to build relationships, but when to hold back so as to not negatively affect the ministry. We have to live a Christian life that reflects what we’re teaching and yet show that it’s OK to struggle in this life sometimes (but not too much, because certain sins get higher eyebrow-lifts than others, which would affect our credibility, which in itself is filtering). We have to constantly give advice, care, affection, time etc, and filter out our needs for advice, care, affection, time etc if we feel that the other person is unreceptive to this (which happens a lot). Our job is filtering. 

Cochabamba's Cristo de la Concordia towers over Sam.

Then we have to filter how we interact with our supporters and prayer partners. I think as far as accountability goes, Craig and I try to be as open as we can and limit the number of filters we put into place. We want people to have a genuine idea of our life, which includes struggles. We don’t want to hide the bad. However, that doesn’t mean that our blog posts and emails are not carefully considered, with wording changed, paragraphs deleted and sometimes heated discussions as to content. Sometimes I just want to post a GIF of someone banging their head against a wall, but I choose to apply a filter to that decision (mainly because I don’t know how to post GIFs). And the filters that we need to consider and apply when the ‘M’ word is involved?!?! Money is a touchy subject. And there is no manual written for missionaries that works for everyone on how to deal with fundraising. The way someone can address funding needs in one place is completely different to someone in another place. Sometimes Craig and I have to send separate emails to our North American supporters and our UK supporters because the issue is dealt with in such varied ways. All of this is filtering. 

Then there are the ways that we filter with friends and family. We all do this, but maybe some more than others. What and how I share something with Craig is different than what and how I share something with my Mom, based on how important the information is and how I think the information is going to be received. 

We're not in Cochabamba any more: the scene we woke up to on Tuesday
morning. Rainy season has started here in earnest.

I think the art of filtering is something the majority of us learn to do from an early age and we generally do it subconsciously. However, recently it has started to be something I am noticing more and more and it has begun to be a bit of a strain. I don’t think it is something we can just stop doing, but sometimes I want to rip the filters off and spout off verbal musings to the world and say, “Hah, take that!” So, (going all the way back to the beginning) it was really refreshing to talk to Brigitte about life in general and current struggles because I could remove a lot of the filters. She understands our context, understands the culture, has been to see us in Trinidad and knows our surroundings, and she is our friend. I ripped off a whole pile of the filters that I feel have been constraining me for a while and it felt good. I think we apply a lot of filters to escape judgment from others, and it was so liberating to be listened to and not judged. 

Sam. You'll find him in the club.

Since coming back from Cochabamba, the school holidays have started. For the first time in our lives the school holidays are not quite as exciting as they have been. Sam’s home for two months!!! The church has a kids’ club three days a week for two hours and Craig is helping with that and takes Sam along. He’s also going to a friend’s house one morning a week so he has time with friends. Now we get to participate in the age-old problem: how do we entertain our child for two months without going crazy? It is going to be good times! 

Oh, Christmas decorations went up this week as well!

Sam makes a (sadly inedible) candy cane at said club.

Prayer

• Preparation for Christmas programmes both in the Foundation and in the church.
• The local kids’ time in the Kid’s Program, that they would respond to the gospel message.
• Sam’s time at home with us for the next two months; that we would be blessed by it and not find it stressful.

Praise

• Time with friends in Cochabamba last weekend.
• The end of many of FT’s yearly programs and the blessing they have been to people.
• A visit from Latin Link’s Bolivia Director Louis Woodley Friday evening.

¡Que Dios les bendiga!

Craig & Amanda