Tag Archives: Oldschool

Choose Your Compass Carefully: A Reflection on Technology, Luxury and Following Christ

A few days ago our 13-year-old daughter Jackeline came home in the evening after having spent the day with her 8-year-old special needs brother Josue in a visit with their biological family members. I greeted them warmly at the door as Jackeline then plopped down on our little two-person floral print couch. I instinctively pulled up one of our old wicker stools as I then sat down on it a few feet in front of her. My eyes searched hers as wacky lil’ Josue began trying to do some kind of rear horsey-kick with his stubby hands grabbing the couch’s tired arm while pushing his legs up and back as he bounced about next to the couch.

Jackeline with her wild shoulder-length hair and beautiful round face did not look stressed out or worried, so I dared to ask: “How was the visit?”

That simple question was all it took for us to dive into an hour-plus conversation as she shared with me her many (very insightful) observations on the world outside of our family. (Some of our 8 foster children have regular monthly visits with their biological family members while others have gone years without hearing anything from their relatives.)

She began, voice accelerated as she entered her dramatic story-telling mode, “I asked my little cousin – you know him, the one who’s three years old – if he wanted to play cars.”

I nodded my head and smiled, for Darwin and I have met all of her biological relatives on several occasions and maintain a very positive relationship with them.

“Well, my little cousin said ‘yes’ to my invitation to play cars with him, and then he whipped out two cellphones out of nowhere and said, ‘Which one do you want?’” At this point her eyes are really wide open as she replays the shock she felt when the event happened. I felt like I was right there with her in live action!

I began giggling, and I glanced over and winked at Josue. He flashed me a big, toothy grin. Jackeline continued, “And I said, ‘What?! I asked you if you wanted to play cars with me, like toy cars….Sitting on the ground.’” She motioned with a hand weakened by shock the little back-and-forth movement as she rolled an imaginary toy car in the air.

By then I was really laughing, and she paused to reiterate the whole cellphone part: “I mean, he just whipped out not one, but two of those big fancy cellphones! Two! And he’s only three years old!” I nodded in agreement.

“So when I clarified that I wanted to play toy cars with him on the ground, he shrugged disinterestedly and said, ‘Boring,’ and then showed me the cellphones again, asking me which one I wanted to play on. He told me that he had some electronic app on the phone that was called ‘Cars’ that was more fun than what I had suggested.”

Her way of story-telling – hands moving about animatedly, passion displayed in her fluctuating tone of voice – was both hilarious and effective as she shed a lot of light on the utter absurdities of today’s world culture.

“And, like during the whole visit my little cousin ended up playing on both of the cellphones all by himself, and the television was on all the time! It was like…chaos. At one point he told me that he didn’t like one of the cellphones because it wasn’t as advanced as the other one, so he was going to give it to Charlie!”

I tilted my head, slightly confused because I had never heard mention of Charlie. She was quick to clarify: “That’s the cat!

She looked genuinely worried. Josue continued grinning and nodding enthusiastically as if he understood and agreed with the entire social commentary. I rejoiced in my heart that God is developing in Jackeline a very effective ‘truth filter’ – the ability to observe and even be immersed in what many people consider to be ‘normal’ while evaluating it from the perspective of God’s eternal Word. In effect, to be in the world but not of it.

I treasured this moment in my heart, for our precious – wild, at times immature, strikingly wise! – Jackeline, by God’s grace, is developing the ability to discern her surroundings. She will desperately need that ability, especially when she leaves our home and protection one day to enter the adult realm. In a wildly confused world that is quickly accepting all forms of sexual sin as ‘normal’ (in addition to  rampant materialism, a very isolated ‘individualism’, political corruption, etc), she is going to desperately need to be able to discern what is of God and what is not if she is to walk closely by His side in the world’s wild maze of infinite options and endless ‘ways.’

While I ruminated on all this, thanking God in my heart for the firm character and wise discernment He is forming in His daughter, she continued: “And then my grandma began telling me that it is really important for me to get a tablet and learn how to use it.”

I felt uneasy at the idea; she continued, laughing as she pointed at my reaction: “I told my grandma, ‘I don’t think my parents are gonna like that idea!’, but she said that it’s important because in daily life everyone uses one.”

At that we both began laughing, because although Darwin and I have never spoken openly against modern technological advancements, all of our kids can observe clearly that we are not addicted to them (nor do we own many of them). In our daily life we read books (those old kind made from trees); we enjoy the creativity God has given us to roll up our sleeves and do art projects; we teach classes and Bible studies in bare rooms on wooden benches; we use our hands (and sweat glands) to work around the house and yard; we dedicate ourselves to the ongoing task of developing the minds God has entrusted us; we spend ourselves joyfully on the task of binding up the brokenhearted and setting the captive free; we worship God through music; we care diligently for the various animals God has placed on our property. In a large sense, we are ‘unplugged.’

Jackeline continued, fully enjoying the process of story-telling, “And I said, ‘Grandma! But my parents are adults, and they don’t use a tablet in everyday life!’ And with that, my grandma was really surprised and asked how that was possible. I said, ‘Well, they only use their computers for like really extreme jobs, and they have no use for a calculator because they do the math in their heads!’” At that point I was rolling with laughter, and Josue continued glancing energetically between his older sister and I, eager to participate in the joy. “My grandma was shocked and had no reply! She had never heard of such a thing!”

You see, in our home my husband (who is Honduran) and I (who was born in America) have put a ‘stop’ to the endless advancements in technology and luxury that many in the world constantly chase after. We choose not to have hot water or air-conditioning; we all wash our clothes by hand; we have no television. Our kids do not have internet access; my cell phone is a little black apparatus with an itty bitty screen and old school keypad that probably made its world debut when your great-grandmother was in kindergarten. It doesn’t have any apps and can’t even take pictures. I’ve had my cellphone so many years that the part that sends text messages no longer even works. It’s only used for…*gasp*…making calls! People constantly ask me if I have ‘Whatsapp,’ and I finally had to confess the other day, “No; I don’t have ‘Whatsapp, and to be honest with you, I don’t even know what it is!

I lived my first two-and-a-half years in this country without a car; Darwin, the kids and I walked everywhere and took overcrowded public transportation, oftentimes waiting hours for the right bus to pass. Only now do we have our 16-year-old battered war vehicle; our Toyota pickup truck with a camper on the back. When we rumble by on the narrow gravel roads in our rural town, many of the neighborhood kids shout, “Chicken Coop! Chicken Coop!” because there are always so many little heads sticking out of it!

Probably within a few years – as the outside world continues its frenetic grasping at ‘new’ and ‘better’ while we remain joyfully content with a simple life in God’s presence – someone will probably label us as Amish.

I am currently away from home to attend a day-long conference several hours away from our little ‘home on the range.’ The majority of the other conference attendees – a mixture of local Honduran Christians and American missionaries – had their advanced cellphones with the big screens, cars that look to be in a lot better shape than ours, and their overall attitude (along with the content of their conversations) dripped with worldly enticement. I felt, as I do in many situations, out of place. Like I’m from a different tribe.

Several of the conference speakers spoke (inaccurately) of the need to correct and educate the local people in matters of technology; that we must show the poor that rather than washing their clothes in the river or in an old-fashioned washbin, they must learn to use a washing machine. (And with what money will they purchase and maintain one if they can barely put food on the table?) Rather than bathing with a bucket, they must learn to do so in a shower, with hot water if possible.

My heart grew heavy with each passing word pronounced by the well-intentioned Honduran speakers, for Christ did not come to improve the worldly conditions of the poor – to make them bilingual or grant them a college scholarship or purchase them a washing machine – but rather to preach the truth in the midst of a world drowning in lies; to pay the price none of us can pay in order to put us into right relationship with our Creator and our neighbor. Whether we claim to serve God at home or in a far-off nation, we must be very careful what ‘good news’ we are proclaiming with our words and lives: that of worldly prosperity (which, even at its best, not all can attain), or the everlasting Good News of a loving God who comes to redeem, to heal, to guide. Jesus went around proclaiming, “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is near!” I dare say that that should be our message as well.

In a video on human trafficking that we saw with our older girls in months past, there is a very sincere American missionary fighting the effects of the forced-prostitution industry in Asia, and he very accurately says, “This is not a matter of money and education. In the West there is abounding educational opportunities and plenty of money, but that has not solved the problem of evil. This (whether it is sex slavery, the problem of parentless children, the existence of violent gangs, political corruption, etc) is a spiritual problem.”

To be an overseas missionary — or to serve Christ anywhere — is not a matter of raffling off washing machines and giving college scholarships to help bump people up and out of poverty; it is of teaching others to know and follow Christ; to go to the ends of the earth making disciples, for we know that He will be with us until the end of the age.

Men like Adolf Hitler, Hugh Hefner and others – men with excessive power and know-how (men who have quite strategically gotten what they wanted out of life and whom  we can safely say probably did not bathe with a bucket) – have used their privileges, their intelligence, their money not for good but for evil. So we must be careful what we aspire for those whom we are serving. ‘Developing with the times’ and ‘learning the ways of the world’ do not in any way go hand-in-hand with the good news of Jesus Christ. They are two distinct messages with results that find themselves at opposite poles.

‘Helping the poor’ is not a question of bringing them up to the middle-class. If that is our goal and strategy, we may just be creating more ego-saturated materialism addicts whose hearts are even farther from God than they were to start with.

It is and always has been a battle deep within the human heart – whether the person is rich or poor. Light versus darkness. Truth versus lies. Live for the eternal or live for the temporal. Honor God with your life or believe the age-old lie Satan presented in the garden: “Take things into your own hands; you can be like your own gods!”

Last evening, as I stayed at a bed-and-breakfast hotel, I took a long walk. It was very serene — one of those rare moments of ‘alone time’. The cool breeze blew through my hair as I walked the sidewalks and nearly empty streets of an upper-middle-class neighborhood at dusk. Tall, impenetrable walls around each property. Two-and-three-story homes designed with breathtakingly beautiful architecture. Polished, highly protected people with polished, highly protected lives. No noise. No trash in the streets. I felt like I could have been perusing a wealthy neighborhood in any corner of the globe.

It is so easy to be drawn to what is most comfortable, and to then let our lives be dictated by our desire to protect the luxuries and comforts we have. As I walked the empty streets, the quiet breeze accompanying me as I reflected deeply upon the day’s conference, I felt both saddened at the way many in today’s world choose to live while simultaneously awed by God’s grace over our tiny lives and the way He has led us to take firm decisions, both for our own sake and for that of our children. We refuse to be guided by the world’s compass. Just because the world shouts “North!” does not mean that North is the way; it just might mean that the real way is South. At every turn, we must seriously consider whose voice we are heeding; that of the world’s or that of the quiet whisper of the only true shepherd.

(And, let us all remember that several times in Scripture it is noted that Satan is the prince of this world; the whole world is under his persuasion. Let us be careful lest we find ourselves as his unknowing accomplices. Nearly everyone takes the wide path that leads to destruction; few walk the narrow path that leads to life. If you find yourself saying, doing and thinking the same things as everyone else, stop and ask yourself what path you are on.)

My sandaled feet guided me along as my long skirt lapped at my legs in that quiet, perfectly insulated neighborhood, far from the mess of our daily life surrounded by hurting people in our simple cinderblock buildings. Surely in these nice homes bat droppings don’t constantly fall on their sofa and severely broken children don’t wipe poop on their walls!

A very dear family who visited us briefly in January later published on their prayer newsletter that we were ‘so poor’ – the guest room where they stayed was one of our classrooms with foam mattresses on the floor, and they observed that all we eat are rice and beans.

I continued walking, observing majestic homes that anybody would die to live in. Are we poor? I laughed at the question, for I believe we feel as the Apostle Paul felt: having nothing, we have everything. No, we are not poor: we are rich beyond measure, beyond cellphones and luxury bathrooms and insulated homes. We have infinite riches in Christ, for we know that this world is not our home; we are just passing through on our way to the eternal Kingdom where the true treasure is waiting.

Jesus said to be careful where your treasure is, for there your heart will be also. He said to store up treasures not here on earth – not worldly wealth, power, human comforts – but rather treasures in heaven. Lose your life for His sake in order to find it. Deny yourself, carry your cross and follow Him. We must not fall in love with the world and all that it offers; we are to be in the world but not of it. Renew your mind; allow God to transform you so that you may come to know His perfect will. In this life we will suffer, but we must take heart because He has overcome the world! He who affirms that he is united with God, must live as Jesus Christ lived.

And so, I humbly encourage you to evaluate your own life and carefully consider whether the fast-moving train of technology, luxury, over-eating, etc, is taking its many passengers toward a deeper relationship with their Creator, their Savior, or whether it intends to propel them blindly towards a darker fate. The world’s bandwagon has a megaphone that proclaims ‘Entertainment,’ ‘Ease,’ ‘Have it your way.’ Eat and drink, for tomorrow you die. Have we believed this message; have we blindly given our lives over to an untrustworthy system; have we jumped on the bandwagon that is leading many away from God’s heart and His eternal purpose?

We must all remember how Jesus lived among us and that He is calling us to live the same way –fully united with His Father’s will rather than fully rooted in the worldly system.

After all, our message is not a popular one just as Jesus’ wasn’t, but we proclaim it boldly and with great faith, for we know and love He who is guiding us.

All that is in the world will come to an end, but those who do the will of God will live forever.

Amen.

The Master of Creative Play

The other day I had off from my teaching duties, so I found myself in the nearby city of La Ceiba running errands and buying groceries during the morning hours while all of our kids were at home in classes with the rest of our teachers.

On a whim, I pulled our old white pickup truck to a stop in front of a phenomenal new two-story resale shop that is quickly becoming famous in our area for its incredible deals.

Although we do not normally purchase toys for our children for several reasons (they have not been prone to taking care of the few toys that they have received, plus we do not want them to think that they have to have some kind of advanced or electronic toy in order to be happy), on this particular occasion I bounded up the long winding ramp to the second story to investigate the toy section.

A new idea had occurred to me: get a variety of versatile, oldschool-style toys and then store them all in one or two big Tupperware bins. You take them all out to play creatively for an hour or two, and then you put it all back in the bin when you’re done. Bingo!

As the majority of the members of our household are quickly leaving behind childhood and boldly entering adolescence, I’ve recently felt it urgent and necessary to create safe moments of childlike play – to protect moments of pure fun, of boundless imagination — for our kids before all sense of childhood soon gets lost. (A very respected friend of ours also recently called me a slave driver due to the amount of responsibility we are daily inculcating in our kids through their extensive musical practices, household chore expectations, homework load, etc, so I’m trying to learn to ease off a bit on the ‘duties’ and increase the ‘fun’…)

And so I perused the long, wearhouse-like rows and dug deep through dozens of stuffed animals and old plastic and wooden toys, finding incredible bargains on puppets, silly stuffed animals, an enormous purple plastic egg, a variety of outrageous hats and costume parts, and bits and pieces of old toys that probably no one else would think to purchase. A long vacuum-cleaner tube; stacking shelves meant for kitchen use; little foam cubes. My shopping cart’s contents resembled the leaning tower of Pisa as I headed for the checkout with a big grin on my face.

That evening, as our 12-year-old daughter Gleny helped me take the price tags off everything and stuff it all in two bright green containers I had purchased, we decided to have a night of creative play as a family instead of our traditional Friday-night movie.

With each family member wearing some kind of silly hat — Darwin with a bright green baseball hat on sideways, two of our teenage girls wearing french barrettes, Gleny wearing a dog hat with long, floppy ears and Gaby sporting a tall top hat that came straight from Alice in Wonderland — we spread out in our cozy living room to play together. A couple of our kids were absorbed in an intense chess match while several of the littler ones played gleefully with the new array of secondhand toys I had brought home. Darwin and I with our older teens played Cranium on our tile floor as each person tried on several different wild hats throughout the process.

The next day our 12-year-old Gleny was prepping for her weekly tutoring session with little Gabriela. Several of our kids in addition to Darwin and our teachers are working with Gaby right now as she is in the beginning stages of learning how to read. Gleny grabbed the little syllable book to read with Gaby when a thought occurred to me: “Gleny! Better yet, instead of reading with Gaby, play with her.”

Ever since we met Gleny as an explosive, affectionate 9-year-old in 2013 she has been a master at creative play. Given very few tools she can create a very elaborate drama with this and that character, a princess to be rescued, a mansion made of legos, etc. I remember the day special-needs Josue moved in as an insecure 6-year-old in 2015, Gleny immediately had him sitting down on a small stool in our living room with a makeshift stethoscope around his neck as he tended to her daughter, a sick stuffed animal bunny. She has been known to organize an entire army out of her siblings and lead them valiantly as they all run around the yard with sticks and ‘bows and arrows,’ creating forts and shelters under different bushes. She has a beautiful imagination, and now that she is on the cusp of entering adolescence, much of that has been lost — or neglected — lately. Now that she wears a training bra and is in our advanced math class with her older sisters, I suspect she has tried to hide that very childlike aspect of her personality in order to fit in with her more mature peers. Just the night prior she had exhibited great enthusiasm with me as she discovered and helped take the price tags off of the quirky new toys, but once the chance came to play with them, she kept her distance and chose rather to join in the older kids with the chess match.

And so, when I suggested to her that her tutoring be that of play rather than one more reading session, her eyes lit up mischievously. Because, after all, she would be the ‘teacher,’ so no one could say that it wasn’t cool for her to be playing with the toys. I smiled big and said, “Gleny, you have a phenomenal imagination, and Gaby — and Josue — both need a lot of help developing their creativity. You can take the new bins out, and simply play with them. You would be great at that.”

She jumped up immediately, grabbed the two big bins and called her young students to join her on our front porch as she quickly began guiding them in the delicate art of creative play. Each person with a hat; each person with a stuffed animal. Let the creative play commence.

Peeking out through the slats in our windows as the minutes drew nearer to an hour, my heart grew with joy as I saw our future teacher Gleny exercising radiantly one of the gifts the Lord has given her. I grabbed our little digital camera and snapped a few photos while hoping not to distract from the whole play process…

The lion headdress that Josue is sporting is the one I had worn for several hours the night prior during our family game night. (When we called all of our kids in to tell them that instead of watching a movie we would be playing games, I crouched near our front door and jumped out — wearing the furry lion headdress — when our eldest daughter came casually walking through. Mission accomplished: she screamed!)

Amen! Glory to God!