The Mountain Man

   In early 1989 the Boado Family had a reunion in the mountains. They invited Pastor Cleveland to join them.   Pastor Cleveland then invited Pastor Nordlander to join him.   Pastor Nordlander then invited his son Johnny to join him.   Johnny then invited me to join them all.   I gladly accepted the indirect invitation.  I was looking forward to the cultural experience and was excited for the journey.   

   The four of us took off one morning for the hike up the mountain.   It took us nearly 1 and 1/2 hours to make the nearly 5 km walk from the town of Pugo up to the Boado Family home, Ayosep.   It was a beautiful walk.  Most of it was up a winding dirt road.  The final kilometer was off onto a weed and vine covered pathway.  As we came up over the last small rise and rounded the last vine covered tree, we looked across a rice paddy and saw the small family house about 100m away.   I could hear voices and see people standing around.   I was thrilled to be in this beautiful and remote place.   It reminded me of growing up in the mountains of Colorado.   

   As we approached the house, I saw a young man outside helping cook the food at the fire.   I found out later that he was Pastor Andrew's brother, Mike.   I remember being impressed that he was cooking.   (And that wasn't even on my list!!)  

  All four of us hikers were welcomed into the Boado home as if each of us had been given personal invitations.   I was amazed at their hospitality and kindness.   We were given cold water from the flowing well and a place to sit down.  We sat on a bench made out of a log.  All of this next to a small pond surrounded by coconut trees. 

   What really stands out in my mind is the evening meal.   I was given a plate with a frog on it.   Yes, a frog.   Not just frog legs either.   The entire green frog with legs and skin and head and ... well, a frog.  It had simply been boiled.   As I stood there with the frog on my plate, I wondered what I was supposed to do.   My mind was going 100mph -- Do I eat the whole thing?   Do I eat the head?   Where do I start?   Do I use my fingers? -- So many questions were rambling around inside my brain.   I just stood there wondering and waiting.   

   As I waited, Pastor Andrew came up to me and challenged me to eat the frog.   I looked at him and without blinking said:  "Ok, but you go first."   I figured I would allow him to eat ahead of me so I could watch and learn exactly what I was supposed to do.   

    He said:  "Ok." I watched wide eyed as he first picked up the frog by the head with his fingers. Next, he stuck both of the legs completely inside his mouth.   After that, he clamped his teeth down on the legs right before the body of the frog.   Then, he simply pulled the frog legs out of his mouth.   As he pulled the frog legs out of his mouth, only the meat stayed inside. I watched as he ate the meat with a smile on his face.  

  I too had a smile on my face.   If you could have heard my thoughts it would have been something like this:  "That is all?   I only have to eat the legs?   I don't have to eat the entire frog? God is so good to me.   I can do that."    

   Pastor Andrew looked at me and said:  "It's your turn."   I then took the frog and did exactly what he had done with a huge smile on my face.   Everyone watched,  laughing and clapping for the Americana who had just eaten a frog.   

   After dinner I remember going outside to be alone.   I was fascinated by the brightness of the stars.   At that time in the mountains, there were no electric wires and so no electric lights. The lack of electricity made for brilliant stars in the night sky.   I was mesmerized.   

   Pastor Andrew's brother, Mike, found me outside enjoying the sky.   He said:  "I can take you up higher and you can see the stars even better."   So, the two of us walked up and away from the house about 30 meters.  We sat in the tall grass and looked at the lights.   Two hours later we were friends.   I had heard all about his life in Manila and Baguio and his quest to become a Catholic priest. I had heard about his girlfriend, a nurse in the USA.   I had also heard about his love for the mountains and his desire to have a coffee plantation.   Wow, a mountain man who spoke beautiful English and was easy to talk to.  (I do believe those things were on my list.)

   That night, along with many of the others at the reunion, I slept on the open back porch of the Boado Family home.  It was a bamboo floor elevated above the ground.   The space under the porch was a useful storage facility and also home to several animals.   

   As I fell asleep, I remember thinking to myself:  "Mike Boado has knowledge of God but no relationship with Him.   When Mike Boado opens his heart to Jesus, he will be a powerful man of God."   I began to pray that God would become real to Mike Boado.   

  I also remember waking up several times in the dark of the night -- What was that sound?  Where am I?  Why is it so dark? -- I glanced about the porch and saw the silhouettes of the other people still sound asleep around me.   Ahhh -- they were all used to the fact that a rooster crowing right underneath their bed was a normal everyday occurrence.   I, on the other hand, had never slept with a rooster before.   Needless to say, I was not bright eyed and bushy tailed the next morning.    

   As I walked down the mountain after the reunion, I knew that I had learned some more valuable lessons.   I also knew that I had found a place that would always be special to me -- Ayosep, the mountain home of the Boado Family.   I knew in my heart that I would return.   I didn't know when, but I knew that I had fallen in love with the beautiful mountain place.   What I didn't know was that I was also falling in love with the mountain man -- Pastor Andrew's brother.      

Val's Top Ten List

   The story of Pastor Andrew's Brother reminded me of the summer of 1986.  It was early June and I was at the Child Evangelism Fellowship (CEF) headquarters in Warrenton, Missouri. I was attending a two-week training course before I flew off to the island of Cyprus in the Mediterranean Sea to teach Bible classes all summer as a CEF missionary.   

  I will never forget one of the instructors challenging us to make a list.   I do not remember the instructor's name or face.   I only remember his challenge -- make a list of at least ten things you need/desire in your spouse.   And then, pray over that list and pray for your spouse.   Wow!!!   A wonderful challenge that I accepted fully.   

   I remember sitting down that evening and praying.  I prayed: "Lord, I want You to help me make a list of ten things that I need in my spouse.   I also want to commit to NOT dating anyone until I get the list completed.  Lead me and guide me in this quest.   Thank you."

   I remember that it took me about one full year to get my list completed.   The Lord slowly revealed the list to me in my Bible readings, in my other readings, in conversations with people, and in my prayer times.   I also remember that I didn't have an invitation for a date until after my list was completed. God was so good to me.   

   I honestly don't know what happened to my list.  Maybe some day I will find the original list stuck in one of my journals somewhere.   But for now, let me see if I can recreate the list from memory.  The list is in no certain order.   

Val's Top Ten List: 

   1.  A growing Christian

   2.  A man who loves his family

   3.  A man who can work with me in the ministry

   4.  A man who likes to exercise/athletics

   5.  A man who is respected 

   6.  A man with a sense of humor

   7.  A man who will be the spiritual leader in our family

   8.  A man who is educated 

   9.  A man who is hospitable 

  10. A man who is easy to talk to

Others that I would joke about with people: 

   1.  I am going to marry a man whose last name is near the beginning of the alphabet. 

   2.  I am only going to marry someone who is an American.  

   3.  I am going to marry a mountain man.

  As I got to know Mike Boado, I began to see that he fit every single one of the things on my list except for the fact that he was NOT an American.   For some reason this was very important to me.   So, I worked to keep Mike Boado at arms length.  I really tried to not let him crawl into my heart.   It worked only for a short time.    

Pastor Andrew's Brother

   The first time I saw my (future) husband, I thought he was cute.   But, that was the end of it.   He was a Filipino and so being cute was as far as I would allow my heart to go.   Why?   As a young gal I had gone on several mission trips.   I had seen cross cultural couples.   I had heard about the troubles they had with in-laws and naming their children and making everyone happy on both sides of the ocean.   So, I had made an internal vow -- I would only marry an American. Why?   I knew that marriage was hard.  I knew that marriage was hard when both partners were Americans.   I could only imagine how hard it would be if each partner was from a different culture.   I did not want to find out.   So, I told everyone that I would only marry an American.      

   Mike Boado was standing on the landing in Pastor Andrew's house the first time I saw him.   Julie had called out to me at my house to walk over and meet someone who had come from Manila to visit them.   I had just arrived home from school so I put my bike away and then quickly maneuvered the few steps over to Julie's back entryway.   

                   Mike Boado and son, Steven, in 2007.  

   As I walked in, Julie pointed up towards the landing and said, "Val, this is Pastor Andrew's brother."   I don't remember hearing her say his name so I looked up at him and in my most chipper and happy voice said,   "Hi, Pastor Andrew's brother."    

   I don't remember anything after that.   I am sure they told me his name was Mike and they told him my name was Val.   I am sure they told me that he came to visit from Manila and was on his way home to the small town of Pugo.   I just don't remember.   All we both remember about that first meeting was he looking down at me and me looking up at him.     

   I never in a million years thought that I should burn that meeting into my heart and mind.   I never in a million years thought that this man would wrap himself around my heart and then climb inside.   I never in a million years thought that this man, this Filipino man, would be a part of God's plan to change me forever.   

   But God knew.   God always knows.   He also knew that in His time I would come to realize that my vow to never marry a man who was not an American was a senseless vow.   He also knew that being released from that vow would not be an easy thing for me to do.   I am so glad that God was with me to walk the way that I take.  I don't know what I would have done without His wisdom and grace.   

   

God's Word is Gold -- Nugget #2

Romans 6:18  You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.   

   Dirty laundry is never ending.   It never goes away.   Even after all the clothes are clean, dry, and folded, the clothes you have on are always dirty at the end of the day.   

   When I began to do my laundry by hand in Agoo, this truth became very real to me.   When I used the washing machine in the USA, laundry was not a difficult chore.   Throwing my dirty clothes into the laundry basket was no big deal.   But, once I started doing my laundry by hand with my fingers raw and bleeding, the work of dirty laundry became a whole new story.   I became a slave to my laundry.   It became a thorn in my side.   No matter what I did, I could not get rid of my dirty laundry.   The only way to get rid of the problem of my dirty laundry was to find someone to do my laundry for me -- a labandera/laundry woman.   

   God taught me that sin is like dirty laundry.   We can never get rid of it.   We can never get to the bottom of it.   At the end of every day, there is some sin looking me in the face.   I had to learn to give my sin to Jesus in the same way I had to learn to give my dirty laundry to the labandera/laundry woman.    When I give my sin to Jesus, I am no longer a slave to my sin. Jesus takes it from me and so I become a slave to righteousness and not sin.    

   Being a slave to righteousness means that doing the right thing becomes second nature.   You don't have to pray about it, it just comes natural.   You know right away what is right and what is wrong.   I do believe that after 20 years in the Philippines, I can truly say that I am a slave to righteousness.   Am I perfect?   NO. But, doing the right thing comes naturally now.   And, when I make a mistake, that is exactly what it is -- a mistake.   Not a deliberate act of sin.  

   I still have a lot left to learn.  I still have a long way to go in my life and spiritual walk.   But, I am grateful to God for all that I have learned these past 20 years.   One of them is that a slave to righteousness is a person who has given his sin to Jesus and does not dwell on it.  Jesus takes it and deals with it.   I don't have to think about my dirty laundry at the end of the day because Jesus is with me to help me get rid of it.   Oh what a comfort.   

   God is like that.   He knows that sin is never ending.   He knows that I can't do it alone.   My job is to give it to Him.  My job is to understand that He knows the way that I take.   

Lessons from Olga

   As I look back on my time with Olga, I think of all the wonderful things that she taught me. They are valuable lessons that I still use today.   She is the one who taught me to go to the market.   She and I would sit and make our market list and then we would get up early the next morning and go together.   She taught me how to barter with the tindera/sales girl.   She taught me how to choose the best vegetables and fruits.   She even ate fresh pineapple until she was sick of it because she knew how much I loved this new and available fruit.   

   Olga taught me how to do my own laundry by hand.   At one point the gal that did my laundry stopped doing it and so I decided I would do it on my own.  " 'How hard can it be?'  I asked myself."   Well, I would stand at the kitchen sink and wash until my fingers were raw and bleeding.   Olga would watch me scrub my clothes and would say to me:  "Val, don't work so hard.   Just run them through the water."  I learned quickly to scrub them gently and then run them through the water.   

   I would get all finished and my laundry basket would be empty. I would hang the clothes up to dry and I would smile with satisfaction.   Then, as I went to bed that night, I would throw the clothes I had on into my laundry basket.   I learned quickly that there is never an end to dirty clothes.  

  I think the greatest lesson that I learned from Olga was the importance of visitation.   Later, when I arrived in Tagum City, it was the skill of visitation that I had learned from Olga that helped our NEOS ministry to grow.   Olga would talk to me during breakfast and say:  "What are you doing after school today?Would you like to go visiting with me?"   So, we would make a schedule and I would meet her for visitation.   

   Day after day we would go around Agoo simply visiting people; people from the church, people who were college friends, people who had visited the church, and more.   I mostly watched as I didn't know the language.   But, as I watched I would ask myself: What is she doing?   Why does she do this day after day?   What is the reason for all of this visitation?  Is it not a waste of time?     But, as I watched the joy on the faces of the people when Olga would -- hold their newborn baby, or hold the hand of an old lady and listen to the story of when she got married, or cry with a mother whose child was in the hospital, or take water to someone in the hospital, and then pray with each family before she left their home -- I knew that it was not a waste of time.   Olga was making an investment into eternity.   Olga was reaching out and touching lives.    Olga was teaching me a very important skill -- the skill of visitation.    

   To this day, I make a point, no matter where I am in the world, to spend time talking to people in order to get to know them.   I pray for opportunities to turn the conversation around to godly things.   I even work hard to make a point to pray with people.   I have prayed with people in their kitchens, living rooms, on airplanes, in hospitals, on buses, in airports, in doctor's offices, in hotels, . . . . and over the phone.   The simple skill of visitation and making conversation with people can turn someone's bad day into a good one.    

   I am grateful for the time I had in Agoo with Olga.   I am grateful that she taught me the important skills of going to the market, doing laundry by hand, and visitation.   I am mostly grateful that God used her to help change my personality into one that would be an encouragement to others and not a discouragement.   

   God knew I needed Olga because God knew the way that I would take.   

The Nipa Hut Academy

   Oh how I wish I had a photo of the little nipa hut that we used as our schoolhouse in Agoo.   It was right next to the Cleveland's home.   There were some desks and chairs inside.   That was pretty much it.   

   We started school around 8am each day.   I would leave my house by 7:45am and ride my bike the one-half mile to school.   Some days I would meet Johnny and Christine coming out of their gate and we would ride the rest of the way together.   

   We did school only in the mornings.   We started each morning with prayer and a short Bible time.   We actually memorized Luke 2:1-20 together that year.  

   I sat alone in the schoolhouse in the afternoons and did lesson plans.   I had 5 sets of plans to do and so it took me quite a while each day.    Even though Johnny and Jobie were in the same grade, they were from two different families and so were using two different curriculums.    

  I guess the most that I remember about teaching that year was teaching Julie kindergarten.   I absolutely love kindergarten and so Julie was my joy as I taught her to read and write.   I would have school with the other four kids first and then Julie and I would have our time together one-on-one.   She was a quick student. 

        Julie with her mom, Helen, and Jobie's children in 2007.   

   My reason for being in the Philippines was to teach school to these 5 wonderful kids.   And, teach them I did.   But, honestly, I don't remember much of the day to day business that went on with school.   I mostly remember the things that went on outside of school.   Things like going visiting with Olga, going to Bible studies with Olga, going to the province of Abra with Olga and Loida, teaching Good News Classes in my home with Olga, .... my year in Agoo was full and wonderful.   I am soooo thankful for the time.   Yet, it was probably the hardest year of my life.    A year that taught me to put my trust completely in God and not in man.   

     More of the story is yet to come.   

      

Rice is Like Water

   I remember a couple of stories from when I lived with Pastor Andrew and Julie.  The first one happened one evening while we were eating dinner.   After being in the Philippines for several weeks and seeing rice on the table for every meal, I began to wonder.   So, I asked Pastor Andrew one of my famous questions:   "Do you ever get tired of rice?"   

   He was quick to respond:  "Val, rice is like water.   We never get tired of it."   

   

  Another cute story was one day I was at the house by myself.   There came a knock on the door.  I opened the door and a gal was wondering where Julie was.   I didn't not know the answer and so I did the best I could to communicate with her.   Later, when Julie came home, I told her that she had had a visitor.   Julie's first question was this:   "What did she look like?"   

   Oh my -- What did she look like?   How do I answer that question?   Well, she was short, dark hair, dark eyes, ....   Oh my -- how do I set her apart from the other Filipinos I have seen?  

   I was learning more and more each day about the culture and the people.   I needed to open my eyes and be more observant.   I needed to open my ears and learn the language.   I needed to open my heart and be more accepting.   I was learning so much.   

   I was slowly beginning to understand the Filipino culture and the Filipino people.   What I didn't know was that the culture and the people were slowly crawling into my heart and I would never be able to get them out.   Never.   

God's Word is Gold -- Nugget #1

  Proverbs 27:17 

       As Iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.   

   Iron tools are only fit for using if they have been sharpened by rubbing against another piece of iron.   I have discovered in my own life that a person's countenance/personality is only fit for God to use when it has been sharpened by rubbing against another person's countenance/personality.      

   My roommate, Olga, was the iron in my life.  Our personalities were very similar and yet very different.   She was completely Filipino.   I was completely American.   She was small, petite, quiet spoken, and acted like a lady.   I was medium sized, not quiet spoken, and rode my bike all over Agoo wearing my walking shorts.   I could be a lady when I needed to.   But not all the time.   She knew the importance of being a lady all the time -- even when riding a bike with walking shorts on.   I still had to learn that.   

   God put the two of us together for a purpose.   God used our friendship and personalities to sharpen us for the plans He had for the way that each of us was going to take.   If we had not lived together for those 8 months and had not had the struggles that we did together, our lives after Agoo would have been more difficult.   

   God was preparing me to live in the Philippines for the rest of my life.   God was preparing her to live with people from all nations of the world for the rest of her life.   It was important that we lived together.   It was a very difficult and yet very important time for both of us.                 

   We are both better women because of our friendship.   She is one of my dearest friends on earth.   We are good to keep in touch.   We email and we even call each other to pray together no matter where we are in the world. And she is always off somewhere telling someone about Jesus.  I am sure that she even tells them how He changed her and prepared her for the way that she would take.   

   God is like that.   He knows just what I need even when I don't know it. What a comfort.   

A New Culture is Shocking

   Wikipedia states that culture shock is the feeling a person gets after a certain length of time in a new and different culture.   Culture shock causes a person to feel uncertain about which actions are appropriate and which actions are inappropriate.  It can cause frustrations and even anger in certain individuals.   (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Culture_shock)

   I definitely went through culture shock.   I don't remember exactly when it started but it began slowly and I learned the hard way that a new culture is shocking.   

   I lived with a Filipina, Olga.   She was a Bible woman for the church.   I had a talk with her when we first moved in together.   I said: "Please tell me when I make mistakes.   I am new to this culture and I have a lot to learn.   I need your help."   

   I am a person who asks a lot of questions.   I always have.   I ask questions so that I can learn and know and understand.   So, since Olga was my roommate, and she was the one I had asked to help me, I began to ask her questions.  Questions like:   Why do you wash the dishes that way?   Why do you do your laundry that way?  Why is the wet market set up the way it is set up?   What is the difference between going to the market and going to the grocery?   How do you flush the toilet if there is no handle to push so that it will flush?   Why do you cook rice that way?  Why do they say the meeting starts at 3pm when really it starts at 5pm?  When a visitor comes to my house and I ask him if he wants something to drink and he says no, why am I a bad hostess since I didn't give him anything to drink?   .....   I remember asking question after question.  I was a sponge who wanted to learn everything I could about life in the Philippines.   

   I had no idea the trouble that my questions were brewing.  One day Olga stopped talking to me.   I couldn't figure out what was going on.   I asked her over and over what the matter was.   I was totally baffled.   So, I asked her the big question: "Is it me?   Have I done something to upset you?"   When she wouldn't look at me or answer my question, I knew I had done something.   

    I left the house to go on a walk.   I walked all over Agoo for a couple of hours talking to the Lord in prayer.   "Lord, what have I done?   What did I do to make her so angry with me?  I am trying so hard to do the right thing.   I am trying so hard to ask before I do anything so that I will know what is appropriate and what is inappropriate.   I am really sincerely trying Lord.   What have I done?"   

   I arrived back home to both Pastor Cleveland and Olga sitting in our sala/living room.     While I had been away, she had gone to Pastor Cleveland to ask for help in talking to me. She had asked him to join us so she could bear her heart to me. She had written me a letter.  As I sat and listened to the words that she had written in her letter, I began to wrestle with what she was trying to say to me.   

   All of the questions I had asked her were in the letter.   All of the help I had wanted from her was hitting me in the face.   She had taken each question personally.   She had taken each question as a slap to the culture of the Filipino people -- her people.   All I could do was listen.   As I listened, my tears began to flow slowly.   As the letter got longer and longer as to the hurt I had caused her, my tears turned to weeping.   I had never cried so hard in my life.   I had to put my head down between my knees to keep from passing out.   I was crying because I had hurt my new friend.   I was crying because everything she was saying was not what I had intended.   What I had intended for good and learning had become a thorn in her side.   I was totally devastated by the hurt I had caused.   I was totally shocked that no one had said a word to me until now.   

   When the letter was finally over.   I was asked to respond.   I got down on my knees in front of Olga and I apologized for hurting her.   I explained that I had not meant to hurt her.   I explained that my questions were sincere and had nothing to do with her culture but with my own stupidity and wanting to learn.      Pastor Cleveland was able to help us come to forgiveness and healing.   He prayed with us and left us alone after it was over.   We went to our separate rooms to absorb what had just happened.    

   I honestly do not remember the next morning or the days that immediately followed.   I do remember that we continued to live together.   I continued to learn from Olga and go visiting with her. I continued to be her friend.   But, my questions stopped.   The excitement that I had had before was no longer there.   I was different.   I was learning a great lesson.   I was learning to think and pray carefully before speaking.   I was learning that my personality needed to change.   It was a hard lesson and one that has taken me years upon years in the Philippines to learn.   

   Twenty years after this incident, Olga is still my friend.   We are both strong personalities and I believe that was part of the problem.   Some people are better friends than roommates.   It was a lesson we both had to learn.   And we both had to learn it the hard way.   But, God's grace is beautiful and forgiveness is awesome.   

   I also remember that God knows the way that I take and when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold.   I was being tested. I was on my way to coming forth as gold.   How many more tests would come, I didn't know.   It was good that I didn't know or I would have left the Philippines and missed all that God wanted for me in the way that I take. 

Stay with me ....  more testing ahead.   

     

   

God's Word is Gold

   The Billy Graham Evangelistic Association has a booklet written by Charlie Rigg titled Practicing His Presence.  On page 24 of the 2005 edition, Mr. Rigg compares the Bible to a gold mine:          "The Bible is a gold mine to be explored and claimed.   Put on your miner's cap, take up your pick and shovel and begin to dig.   As you find a nugget, file a claim -- claim the promise.   You will soon realize how rich you are in Jesus Christ." 

   I want to borrow from Mr. Rigg and compare the Bible to a gold mine.   Every few posts, I will insert a nugget/promise that God has given me during my travels and years in the Philippines.   

Talented Americana

   My first few days in the Philippines - Agoo, LaUnion to be exact- I lived with the Clevelands.   Then, I moved in and boarded with the pastor and his wife -- Pastor Andrew and Julie.   

Pastor Andrew and Julie with their children in 2007.   

   I was given my own room and my own mosquito net.   I became an expert at climbing into bed under the mosquito net and then tucking it carefully under the mattress so the mosquitoes wouldn't sneak inside.   Then, I had to be very careful to stay away from the edge of the mosquito net or they would eat me through the netting.   Such talents I acquired my first week in the country.   

   I also learned how to take a bath without a bathtub.   I had a water pump, a bucket, and a dipper.   No instructions.   I was simply shown to the bathroom -- or should I say, to the CR (comfort room) -- and given a bucket and a dipper.   I soon acquired the additional talent of taking a pour bath.   This means I simply scooped up the water with the dipper and poured it over my head.   That is after I filled the bucket by pumping it full from the water pump.   It was like this -- pump to fill the bucket, scoop water with the dipper until the water was gone from the bucket, pump to fill the bucket, scoop water with the dipper until the water was gone from the bucket, pump to fill the bucket, ..... until I was finished.   It was quite the workout.   (To this day I call getting clean with water taking a 'bath'.   I have been fussed at that a shower and a bath are two different things.   Well, to me getting clean with water is simply taking a 'bath'.)

   I also learned how to wash the dishes without running water.   I was becoming quite talented. It was like this -- Enter the CR and fill a bucket with water from the water pump.   Carry the bucket to the sink.  Wash all the dishes.   Return to the CR and fill the bucket again with water. Carry the bucket to the sink.   Rinse all the dishes.   Return to the CR and fill the bucket with water.   Carry the bucket to the sink.   Rinse all the dishes again.   Stack the dishes carefully so they will air dry.   I learned that rinsing the dishes twice made sure there was no soap left on them.   Ahhhh!!!   I bet you didn't know that.   

   I figure I was the most talented Americana living in the Philippines at that time.  

   I lived with Pastor Andrew and Julie for about six weeks.   Then, I discovered that the house next door to them was vacant.   So, I signed a contract with the owner of the house and moved in with my new friend, Olga.   Now, we had an upscale home compared to Pastor Andrew.  Our little house had running water and a shower.   Ahhhh!!!   I never did find the hot water heater.     Now, if I remember correctly, I was in the Philippines to be a teacher -- a talented teacher at that.   I guess I had better get started on my assignment now that I have a place to live.   

On Assignment with National Geographic

   I wish I had actual photos of my first few days in the Philippines.   I just remember seeing everything as if I were flipping through the pages of a National Geographic magazine.     I felt like I was on assignment.   Water buffalo wallowing in the mud, chickens scurrying to get across the street, motorcycles with 5 or more people on them, banana plants ripe for harvest, coconut palms silhouetted against the sunset, rice fields glistening in the afternoon sun, ....  It was all magical.  I remember thinking how glad I was that I had lived in Indiana for a few years.   The heat was amazing.   If I had gone from Colorado to the Philippines without the detour through Indiana, I think I would have actually melted.   

   Reality set in, this means that the magical National Geographic assignment abruptly ended, when I went to the bank and opened my bank account.  I was in the Philippines to stay.   I swallowed hard and faced my new assignment -- teacher to 5 missionary kids -- head on.   

   I discovered a small nipa hut (small house made of nipa grass) next to the Cleveland's home and started cleaning it out.   It became our schoolroom. We named ourselves the Nipa Hut Academy.   I had 5 students:  Julie in kindergarten, Jennifer in grade 4, Christine in grade 5, and Jobie and Johnny in grade 6.     I was working with two different missionary families.   Three students from one family and two from the other family.  I was excited to get started on this new assignment.   I was excited to see where this road would take me.   I was excited about the way that I was taking.  

   But first, I had to find a place to live.   

My Testimony

    Let me start at the beginning.   I am the eldest of three girls.   My dad was a wrestling coach; a man with the gift of helps.   My mom was a homemaker and had Good News Clubs in our home.   She instilled in me a love of teaching.   It was from her that I first learned how to be a teacher.   Dad and Mom taught the three of us to have faith in Jesus.   

     I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior as a child in a Good News Club in Boulder, Colorado. It was good that I came to Jesus at an early age.   My personality was so strong that if I had come to Him later in life, it might have been too late.   I am so thankful that God got a hold of me when I was still young.   I will always be grateful for that.  

   When Mom started having Good News Clubs in our home, she slowly began helping me learn how to teach.   I first taught the songs.   Then the Bible verse.   Then the missionary story.  One step at a time.   I then began helping at our church with the summer Bible clubs and other outreaches into the neighborhoods. I even began teaching at Vacation Bible School.   I began to see that I loved teaching and being with kids.   

   When I was 15 years old, after saving my money for three years, I flew to Germany and spent 9 weeks with a missionary family.   It was a wonderful time for me.   I saw Europe, learned how to speak German, learned how to hang clothes on a clothesline, washed a lot of dishes, and saw missions first hand.   It was an important time for me.  I began wondering what God wanted me to do with my life.    

   After high school our family moved to Bloomington, Indiana.   I went to Taylor University in Upland, Indiana.   I majored in elementary education with a minor in early childhood.   I also participated in cross country and track.   I ran all of the long distance races: the 3000m, 5000m, and the 10,000m.   But, my love was cross country.   I loved running through the woods, jumping over ditches, getting muddy, smelling the dirt, and just being with the other gals on the team.   Being on those teams was important for me.   It taught me about working together to accomplish a common goal.   

   During college I was a summer missionary with Child Evangelism Fellowship.   One summer I taught 5-Day classes in Colorado and another summer I taught on the island of Cyprus in the Mediterranean Sea.   It was during the summer in Cyprus when I realized that God wanted me to work on the mission field. God wanted me to teach the children of the world about Him.   

   While I was in Cyprus a missionary family, the Clevelands, visited my parents at their home in Indiana.   The wife, Helen, asked my mother, "Do you think Valerie would be interested in coming to the Philippines to homeschool our children?"   Mom said she would mention it to me.   Well, to make a long story short, after one year of teaching kindergarten in Indiana, I flew to the Philippines in September of 1988 to homeschool missionary kids.  

   I have now been in the Philippines from 1988 to 2008.   It has been a twenty-year journey that has changed my life.   I am not the same Valerie that left Indianapolis in 1988.   I am a new Valerie; a woman who is no longer completely in control and in charge of her life.   I am a woman who has learned to let God have complete control.  I am a woman who understands that God knows the way that I take each day.   That one small bit of information has helped me through each minute of each day.   

   Now, I will try to take you through what I can remember of the past twenty years.  I will try to share with you as many amazing stories as I can.   I will try to share with you what God has done to mold me into the woman that I am today.   I hope you will enjoy walking with me -- the way that I take.   

Until we meet again .....