More than all we ask or imagine...

Back in 2001, the vision for Come before Winter hardly exceeded the completion of our first event: an equipping and spiritual renewal for women in ministry serving in Brazil. The team of eight agreed to raise the money and serve based on little more than the calling in each woman's heart. We planned carefully, but when we arrived, we had to admit to the 26 women attending that we hardly knew why we had come. Our own anticipation of witnessing what God would do overshadowed any hope that our own plans would succeed. "Thus," we said, "if at any time we discover that the ministry plan we have brought will not provide what is needed, we promise to toss it out and begin anew!"


For the most part, Come before Winter's business plan has been one of planning, preparation and service, then watching and listening to discover what God has in mind. In response, He has regularly unfolded a ministry that delivers more than we ever asked or imagined. We began, hoping not only to renew hearts, but to infect women in minstry everywhere with a love and commitment to serious Bible study. However, because of our limited language abilities, we knew our first obligation would be to English-speaking women.


As years have passed, God has shown us His amazing penchant for creation, offering us opportunities to serve women who do speak "foreign" languages--even English. Since 2003, I have been blessed to study with groups of women in Russia, Brazil, and Albania, helping nationals to practice the art of biblical study. In 2007, after four years of dedicated study, one such group of Russian women hosted the first Come before Winter renewal in a language other than English. Still, every training event was taught in English.


Germana Downing of Recife, Brazil, attended the first CbW renewal in 2001. She remains one of the ministry's most ardent disciples, having studied with me as she taught Mark, Matthew, Philippians, 2 Corinthians, and 1 John to her own small groups. Married to American-born missionary Dennis Downing, Germana's grasp of the English language, her continual commitment to teaching small groups, and her experience with our approach to the exegetical process inspired my pursuit to teach a four-day study in Mark to a group of Brazilians, half of whom did not speak English.

We met together outside Recife at a small but lovely hotel in the country: ten of us--eight Brazilians, CbW board member Linda Forrister, and myself. As I looked around the group, I could hardly believe what God had done. Of the eight Brazilians, He had given me a personal history with half. Besides Germana, Marisa Signoretti and Marta Braga serve our home congregation as missionaries from Southern Brazil to Natal (in the north). Westover's work in Natal dates back over a decade, and Barry and I have visited Natal multiple times, even hosting the Signorettis in our home while they visited Texas. I know only a few whose gifts for teaching, pastoring, and service equal those of Marisa and Marta. I was even more amazed by the presence of Cida Amazon, a native of Recife who received the gospel while living in Austin, TX, and later attended a small group study in my home before moving back to Brazil. She and her husband Giacamo and their three children now attend church with the Downings, and Cida attends Germana's small group weekly.


I did not know what to expect; I had never taught for four days, stopping after each phrase to wait for translation. Once again, I had to go on faith, admitting (again) that if God failed to show up, the entire effort would fail. I have taught women biblical exegesis for over a decade now, and the process never fails to challenge. I often hear student complaints. "Who cares?" they ask. "Need Bible study be so challenging?"


What an amazing experience we had in Brazil! Despite hearing everything twice due to translation, these women literally ate the Word and the concept. They engaged the book and the process with questions that revealed sincere commitments to hear, understand and see Mark's Jesus. By the morning of the fourth day, they sat around a table together, sharing in tears what they had learned and how these lessons would be put to work at specific points in their lives the next week. They also committed to complete their study of Mark by early next year and to host a study for women, sharing what they learned. Since our departure, they have already met twice to begin working toward these goals. If all goes well, and I have every confidence it will, Linda and I plan to return next fall to continue our study in another book.

Wow, God! Wow!

Winging our way home on the winds of prayer

One week ago today, I was on an airplane, returning from Brazil on one of the most convoluted journeys to date. The trip itself (time spent in Brazil with Germana Downing of Recife and seven other Brazilian women sandwiched between short visits with Germana's family) had been a total delight. God blessed the four-day seminar, engaging the book of Mark in ways I could never have planned. Traveling buddy Linda Forrister and I agreed that our time in Brazil had been time well spent.



The trip home was something else. We began our day in Germana and Dennis's kitchen, praying for her family, particularly her two beautiful daughters Paulina and Victoria who faced a round of significant tests later in the week. I remembered off and on all day and night that Dennis prayed for us and our trip, as well--a trip that would be riddled with mechanical difficulties.



Within 30 minutes of our prayer, the transmission in Dennis's car gave way in the middle of a six-lane divided thoroughfare on the way to the airport--but praise the Lord! The car immediately following proved to be an empty taxi; we were able to offload our luggage (in the middle of the street!) from the Downing's trunk to the taxi and continue on!



Since we were trying to check in two hours before takeoff, we thought time was tight. But no, the plane from Salvador, Brazil, was delayed for undisclosed reasons. I am guessing that delay was rooted in mechanical issues, as well. I say this because of the announcement that greeted the passengers on AA 980 about two hours before our anticipated arrival in Miami: the deicer on one of the wings was not working. "Though it is nothing to worry about, federal law requires that we set down at the next nearest airport--San Juan, Puerto Rico." So, we did.



Instead of arriving in Miami at 5:55 p.m., per our original itinerary, we arrived at 2 a.m.--only a slight variation in plans. The bad news: the AA attendant in San Juan had scheduled us for a 7:30 a.m. departure the next morning. Including travel time to and from the Doubletree (where American was picking up the bill) and an hour lead time for check-in, we could sleep about three and a half hours after our 20-hour travel day--maybe. Thankfully, the representative at the end of yet another line in Miami found us a later departure, affording us six hours of sleep. More lines for flight changes in Dallas, and we arrived in Austin early afternoon, thankful for a safe, if unbelievably difficult, journey.



In spite of it all, we were remarkably blessed. We did land safely! We never waited hours in line, though some did. The shuttles were waiting, both to and from the Miami hotel (which had wonderful soft linens on luxurious queen beds!). AA picked up the tabs for all our meals. Even elevator doors opened on our approach. I am not sure I ever remember so many little things going absolutely perfect! Blind luck? Blessing?



Thank you, God! And thank you, Dennis (and everyone else!), for your prayers.

Three-Year-Old Angel, Bearbarry's Swingin', Dancin' Delight

I never thought I’d understand when my husband “fell in love” with another woman, but I do.

In truth, he’s “in love” with two (to date)—our granddaughters Eleanor Abigail and Elizabeth Lenna. This post is in honor of Eleanor, our second oldest grandchild who turned three on September 24. The flu, a bad back, and preparations for a trip to Brazil have delayed this post.

Still, NO ONE makes you feel more special than this little lady—Bearbarry’s (her rendition of “Granbarry”) and Dranna’s (same story for “Granna”) precious princess. She has a laugh that can supply enough energy to light up the world and a spirit that calls for everyone to step in line.

Eleanor entered our lives softly. She was born four weeks early—tiny and beautiful. Her mom said that from the beginning she held her hands around her face in the traditional “princess pose” (see picture at right), and we thought that was appropriate. She was a perfect lady, after all—easily pacified in daylight hours, at least. She slept and ate and smiled and cooed at all the appropriate times. Her gentle spirit drew us in as she claimed her space in our hearts.

She has the prettiest red lips any of us had ever seen. Jo's mom accused her of putting lipstick on her to take her picture...but no! It's all natural.
I want to share a few meories:

First Chrstmas in New Mexico: A little bewildered, but all bundled up for a sleigh ride in the snow.

Granna's model: Is there anything better than taking pictures of your grandkids? And look, what great material!

Daddy's girl: This little one has melted and molded her Daddy's heart. One of my all-time favorite "store-it-away-in-my-heart" memories is of Brent, looking at his daughter and sitting by Jo at the hospital on the day Eleanor was born. The look on his face said it all. The lights had come on, and this man was just beginning to envision the delights life would hold as a father.

Second birthday: Since we couldn't be there on her special day (we went a few days after), we sent balloons! I didn't know if she would be old enough to enjoy! But oh my, she LOVED IT! It made my day!

Granbarry's girl: On the weekend of the Bosnia team's training retreat, we thought Jo had gone into labor. Since I was at the pretreat, as we call it, Barry went alone to DFW. The house was a hive of activity, and he spent the weekend crawling on the floor with Eleanor. From that day forward, no one, and I mean no one, has held a candle to "Bearbarry." Eleanor's love for her Granbarry (who I also called "Bear" while we were dating) has delighted her grandfather's heart like nothing I have ever seen. My eyes get misty just typing the words. While I may gain some ground occasionally (coloring, baking cookies, playing in the playhouse under the stairs), Granbarry is not to be displaced. She loves him so well! Hats off to you, Eleanor! Happy third birthday (a couple weeks late)! I love you so much!

Preparing for Brazilian Study Seminar

The emails keep coming: translation, "more" translation, translation "again," and "still more" translation. I open each one, read the sweet note from my Brazilian partner, then crack open the attachment and start copying and pasting.

I'm publishing--in Portuguese. Technology is amazing! Using the latest version of two English Come before Winter notebooks, I managed to pull together the text for a new 23-page study guide on the exegesis of Mark.

My precious Brazilian friend and study buddy (turned Portuguese translator) Germana Downing translated every word and continues to send it back as she finishes specific pages. I only need copy paragraphs of Portuguese over the corresponding English in the publishing file's various text boxes--and voila! I (who can read not one word of Portuguese) am publishing in an unknown tongue! Move over, Pentecost! (Okay, so that's tongue in cheek.)

Having taught journalism for ten years while sponsoring literally hundreds of student newspapers and too many yearbooks, I am keenly aware that it shouldn't be so easy. There are issues in dealing with type! A story rewrite will rarely fit into the same template box as the first draft--even when they are both in English! I don't know why that is true, but it's a rule--similar in nature to trying to put a man's dress shirt back into the wrapper once it has been unpinned and unfolded. Good luck!

Yet these 23 pages have almost fallen into place, and I am so thankful. Thank you, God! I'm a believer in current day miracles!

I think it's a good sign: God is already blessing the four-day seminar we will host in Brazil week after next. Linda Forrister (CbW board member, friend, and traveling/ministry buddy) and I will join Germana to host a teaching seminar on the book of Mark in Portuguese.

Germana, who attended the first-ever Come before Winter renewal (Brazil, 2001), was one of the first to fall in love with the ministry's approach to study. Since that time, she and a group of women in and around Recife have studied with me the books of Mark, Matthew, 2 Corinthians, Philippians, and 1 John. Our goal in Recife later this month will be to further enhance this group's exegetical skills to the point that they soon will be able to teach the approach to others. We have hosted similar seminars in Russia and Albania. The Russians (after three consecutive years of study seminars) hosted their own renewal in Russian in October, 2007. May the Brazilians be so blessed!

Linda and I will depart (Lord willing) Sunday, October 11. Please join us as we pray for God to allow for the presence of each woman who has planned to attend. Pray that the translation/teaching will be rich, despite the language differences. Pray for hearts to open to one another in prayer and encouragement and pray for each woman to be blessed and renewed.

Fall: Preparing to Claim the Growth of Another Year

I continue to marvel at the order of this world. September rolled around, and automatically the days became cooler, the air a bit clearer, and my energy levels began to rebound. Amazing!

I once read that everyone has a cycle of energy and efficiency, a time when the stars align (not literally), resulting in greater productivity, more emotional stability, even happiness. Somewhere back in the day, I discovered that my clock reads “fall.” I am unsure whether I developed this rhythm from so many years returning to school--as a child, in college, then as a mother and a teacher--or whether I liked school because it rolled around every year at the time when I felt the best, but I love it. I love the colors, the air, the temperatures, Longhorn football,--and seeing my boys (all four) love Longhorn football--sweaters, boots, and fires in the fireplaces. Okay, so now I am into a Texas winter, but I like it all.

Come before Winter has blessed my fall several times. We were in Italy and Germany and Russia in the falls of 02, 05, and 07; last fall we hosted our first stateside renewal in Texas. Three October trips to Siberia rank high on my list, not to mention my favorite fall experiences—three fall vacations with my hubby.

A part of me thinks that's odd—rather out-of-sync, likely fall, that is. I mean, really, things begin to die in fall, don’t they? Or is it just shedding the past year’s growth in preparation for the promise of what’s to come? Isn't it all part of renewal?

I get excited when I think about what God might have in mind for 2010. My calendar is already marked with things I am praying occur: My youngest will leave (Lord willing) for a six-month mission to Swaziland in January. Shane and Kara will be revving up their ministries in Mexia, and Brent just might put the entirety of the CPA exam behind him in 2010—hope, hope! Come before Winter will be traveling to Paraguay in March and to Thailand in June. Our younger protégé teachers, Brooke Hollingsworth and Arlene Kasselman will take over all the lead teaching in Thailand, and Jeanene and I will turn our sights toward developing what we hope becomes an advanced seminar—a pilgrimage, of sorts.

As last year’s growth prepares to drop off, I am hopeful that something about it looks half as beautiful to others as the fall leaves look to me. I am feeling a sense of fulfillment, a testimony from within that declares that God has not only carried me through another year but that somehow, He has allowed me to participate with Him in His Work. And I am looking forward to 2010 and what will surely emerge, clearly autographed as the sanctified art of YHWH.

Chinese Excursion

We returned home from Beijing Tuesday morning--early; we were in bed and turning out the lights just as the Lord was raising one very large one to begin a clear blue central Texas day outside our bedroom window: 5 a.m. Today is Saturday, my birthday, actually, and I was hoping that tonight might be the night I went to sleep before midnight and didn't awaken until the next morning--not just a couple hours later. It is now after midnight! I am not so good at uploading these pictures!

China was full of surprises. One minor surprise was the fact that Facebook and all blogs are blocked in the People's Republic. Thus, it was impossible to post. I hope to write more about various thoughts and impressions, but tonight I want to post a few of the surprises that awaited us on the other side of the globe:

We rarely saw the sun--and NOT because it rained every day. The air was extraordinarily polluted. We were blessed with one day (in 14) when we could see blue sky through the haze. Thankfully, it was the day we went to the Great Wall (an amazing sight!). On another day, we could "see" the sun. Check out the picture at the right. We are told that once upon a time residents of Beijing could see that the city lay at the foot of mountains. No longer. The view from our 18th floor hotel room did not always allow a view more than 5-6 blocks away.

• We worshiped in a government building on our last Sunday. I had to pinch myself throughout the days of the Asian Missions Forum to remind myself that I was in Communist China.
  

The food:

We ate Tex-Mex twice! Maybe it wasn't the best, but I have had MUCH worse in the Lone Star State! And, oh, what a treat in China!

We learned we could eat with chopsticks. Barry thought that if we stayed long enough, we would have definitely lost weight, though. Check out the size of his bite in this picture!

Additionally, KFC appeared to be a Chinese staple--every 100-200 yards in some places and always crowded.

Unless I have missed something, today's Chinese architecture is far more advanced than in the U.S. This building was built for the Olympics, representing the "flame." Barry and I wondered whether the lack of such diversity in the U.S. was strictly due to the artistic passions in China or whether labor costs here might prohibit such daring design? Whatever it is, I loved it, and I have heard that Shanghai is even more amazing.

No gray hair! Well, almost none. I was told by someone that gray hair is disgraceful. (Is that true?) We did see this older, and I think rather distinguished looking gentleman, on the street, but otherwise among hundreds, even thousands of heads of all ages--almost everyone had dark black hair.

Many love their pet birds, taking them out for walks, carrying them along the street, and to outings in the park. (It is a bird in the older gentleman's cage on the left).

My experience at the Asian Missions Forum was a total blessing--one of the most positive teaching experiences to date and a spiritually uplifting time personally. Thanks to Gary and Danita Jackson, Beijing missionaries, and the other teams of missionaries in Beijing who played host to all of us, and thanks to Monte Cox and Dan Rodriguez for inspiring and challenging messages and to everyone who attended from various areas of China, Japan, the Philippines, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Russia, New Zealand, Papua New Guinea, the United States and I know others I am forgetting--only because of my feeble mind.
A special thanks, to Timur and Irena Rahimov from Tomsk, Russia, who met Barry and I at AMF (and to everyone who helped make that possible); you are (all) a blessing to my life.

Since I lost the camera I had taken before the conference began), I am greatly indebted to Timur Rahimov for most of these photos. Longtime friend Ron Green took the one of us on the Wall.

Happy Birthday, Princess!

Elizabeth turned four on July 12. That is, four YEARS old. I can hardly believe we have had her for so long; only one short year and she begins school! Can that be? I already grieve the disappearance of that little baby that could laugh out loud with me for five minutes at a time from the age of 6 months—no kidding. I never knew what could be so funny to her; she was the item that kept me laughing. She had/has the most contagious laugh I have ever heard. We were (I was, definitely) silly, maybe because our emotional ages seemed to be perfectly aligned!

My mother died when I was 21. As a young girl, she had told me over and over that she wanted more than to be my mother; she wanted to be my best friend. She didn’t mean that she wanted to act juvenile or that she refused to be a disciplinarian—she was never the former and always the latter. She meant that she wanted to be close; she wanted me to want to spend time with her. She wanted to matter in my life, and she did. I married at age 19 (I can hardly believe it myself by now), and though I dearly loved my husband and believed then and until this day that he was the best choice I ever made, I missed my mom. We had just gotten to know one another again—after the requisite years of tension known as my teens (and even then we never had the kind of volatile relationships some of my friends had with their moms). So, when Mother died only two years after I married, I was devastated; truly I had lost my best friend. One of the things that sustained me through those months was my hope that one day I would have a daughter with whom I might rekindle the deep, emotional fellowship I shared with my mom.

Well, I didn’t have a daughter. God blessed my life with three sons, three marvelously diverse, incredibly handsome young men. I honestly believe that from the moment of their births, I celebrated each of them with as much vigor as any mother could, and I worked hard to build a personal relationship with each one. I tried with a good measure of success to reserve time every week to be alone with each one—until they outgrew the experience…and, of course, they did. When they became men, their dad began receiving more phone calls (as well should be); watching their relationships with him blossom blessed me, too. I could see some of my relationship with my mom in their interaction with him. As a mom, my children have blessed me extraordinarily. They have treated me far better than any daughter ever treated her mom; mothers of sons get the kind of honor every woman craves, and I love every minute of it! But I always wondered what God had in mind when I didn’t have a daughter. Well, I think I have an idea, but this is not the place for that topic.

When our eldest Shane and his beautiful wife Kara announced they were expecting, we all anticipated a boy. Why not? The Alexanders have boys! But God had unfinished business.

Elizabeth Lenna Alexander (My mother’s first name was Lenna) was born July 12, 2005. She has blessed us all with more joy than we could ever anticipate. A friend of mine told me before she was born: “You will be totally unprepared for how totally overwhelmingly wonderful it is to be a grandmother.” She was so right! I have never been the same since.

I now have two granddaughters (delights in every way) and two grandsons (also delightful, these guys bring home such amazing memories). Elizabeth and Eleanor. Peyton and Asa. Thank you, God.









On Sunday, July 12, we worshiped on the ranch—at its highest peek. Some of the time, I held Elizabeth in my lap (when she wasn’t loitering far too near the edge of the cliff). As I held her, my mind retraced some the journey of these past four years:

• Her first birthday party (thrown by Granna): she was two weeks old (isn’t that crazy?)

• Our first “giggle fit,” reading the little book, “Here we go round the mulberry bush,” and all those that followed. –six months

• Listening as she argued with herself about whether she really needed the milk she so badly wanted: “I want miiiiilk…. No, no, I don’t-want miiilk…. “I WANT MIIILK!”

• Hearing her call up from the bottom of the stairs when she thought it was time for me to get out of bed and join her and her Granbarry downstairs—“Gran-aaaahhh!”—18 months


• Her first Easter dress after she could walk…sliding out like a princess to show off for Daddy. 20 months

• Waiting (impatiently) on Peyton, then being totally surprised and infatuated when he arrived!—2 years

• Playing “I ‘py” (I spy) with Granna all the way home from Colorado—three years

• A never-ending cue for laughter and silliness: “Granna, let’s just talk about puppy dogs and kitty cats, okay? –three years

• Loving (and, well hating is far too strong a word) Shiloh, her puppy.—3.5 years

• Loving the repetition: “Granna,” she has often said, “You’re my best friend.”

Happy birthday, Princess! You make my life so rich!