So far the news on this surgery is good. I came in the hospital yesterday morning, entered the operating room at 7 AM, and came out 3 1/2 hours later. The surgeon visited a few hours after that, and immediately lifted the blanket to show me that my leg is straight. WOO HOO! I can't tell the difference because it's swollen and bandaged, but it FEELS different at the hip and at my foot. I'm not all torqued out of shape anymore, it would seem. :)

I couldn't take anything for the pain that whole day, because my blood pressure was too low. I sent the word out on facebook for prayer and ate dinner with a ton of salt on everything except the jello (gross!), and by later that night, I got my first shot of pain meds. Another time to rejoice!!!!

Yesterday, my mom and Ken's mom came with us to the hospital, and in the afternoon, Ken drove them back to Itaugua. On his way back to the hospital to spend the night with me, something went wrong with our car. He was only a few miles from the hospital, so he limped it back to the parking lot here and this morning we called a mechanic. These cars here seem to have a mind of their own! Right now Ken is out walking to a place nearby that we think has rental cars, so we'll see how that goes.

Our truck has been in the shop almost a year, awaiting a motor change, and with 4 extra people in the house, we were depending on our little VW. I'm praying it's something minor and we'll be back rolling along soon--haha. Get that? I'll be in the wheelchair, we'll all be in the VW, rolling along? Okay, blame the bad humor on the drugs. ;)

Thanks for the prayers. Keep 'em coming.

And on the 8th day, God made grandparents (abuelos).  And God saw the grandparents, that they were good.

Today we're in the capital waiting for both sets (Ken's folks AND mine) to arrive in Asuncion Airport, somewhere in the middle of the night.  We're praying for great traveling mercies.  We've spent the last while getting the house ready for visitors.  It's odd how much more compliant the girls are with household chores, with the added incentive that all this is for Meemaw, Nana, Papaw and Papa.  We'll get one day to spend with them (if they don't need to sleep really late tomorrow morning to make up for arriving in the wee hours), and then early Friday morning I'll go into the hospital for this next surgery.  This is the one that I am confidently trusting God to use to repair the whole mess and let me walk again.

So today, Ken is (if all goes as planned) donating blood for me.  Since I gave him my blood in his open-heart surgery, maybe he's just returning what he took.  :)  And one last appointment with the surgeon to get our p's and q's lined up, a visit with a new friend, then hanging out until the plane lands.  We can't wait to see the family.  It makes the surgery much less negative to know that they'll be here... something good to look forward to instead of dreading the hospital time and starting back over in rehab.  Please help us pray for safe and comfortable travels as they make their way from South Carolina to South America.

This weekend I had the privilege of hitching a ride to Brazil with some fellow missionary ladies from Asuncion.  We enjoyed the five-hour drive, sharing about life in general and getting to know each other.  Why?  Women of the Harvest, "a ministry of support and encouragement for women serving cross-culturally," invited us to a retreat they were hosting for South and Central American gals just like us.  I've been to more youth retreats, couples' retreats, and women's retreats than I can count, but this was my first time to go to a missionary retreat.  I expected that it would be a time of refreshing, rest, fellowship, and Bible study.  Kinda like a cold glass of water on a hot day.  I totally underestimated this weekend.  It was more like riding a barrel over Niagara Falls!

From the moment we arrived at the hotel in a city just over the border in Brazil, there were women waiting to greet us with hugs and help us get settled.  The hugs never stopped.  They showered us with care and love and concern, and nurtured us mentally, physically, and spiritually.

We were ushered as soon as we checked-in, to tables where we could register for pampering options, which included massage, a haircut from a makeover specialist, a color consultation to determine your best choices in clothes and makeup colors, and pedicures.  Then we were also offered the opportunity to sign up for an appointment with a counselor for a private consultation, and with prayer partners for a time of intercession.

Devotion in the hammock

There were Bible classes in the morning, devotions within small groups, and worship time as a big group.  I have to tell you that this was a time when God did great things in my spirit.  I literally felt like He opened me up, cleaned out a whole lot of junk, and then started refilling me with good stuff.  I can't say that I left full, because I feel like He began something in me that will continue--that He showed me some areas inside that were filled with the wrong stuff.  But I did feel like I weighed about 100 lbs less than when I came!  And I know that He who began a good work in me will be faithful to finish it, just like He promised.

I REALLY enjoyed the massage, the time getting to know women who "get it" because they, too, are missionary women, and finding out that I am a "spring" and should wear warm, yellow-toned shirts.  And by the time my haircut came along, I'd decided that I wanted it to reflect the change I'd gone through in my spirit, to be light and free and fun, and not so worn down by the lies I'd begun to believe about myself.


Well, you fellow curly-q's know that not just anybody can cut our hair.  So I arrived a couple of hours early to watch Shirley, the WonderGirl of makeovers, cutting the other ladies' hair.  This gal has a talent like nothing I've ever seen.  She was able to look at each lady, analyze her face shape, her body, and her hair, and determine what cuts would look best.  During this observation time, we talked about the experiences she's had as a volunteer with WOTH Retreats.  She explained that God often tells her what to pack because He wants her to give away her clothes during the retreat.  After telling several stories of giving away stuff, she said, "And this morning, God told me to bring this shirt with me while I was cutting hair because I'd need to give it to someone, and I'm sure that's you." I'm sporting that shirt in the picture below, which showed up on the WOTH blog.  Later Shirley came up to me to give me a beautiful necklace.  What a heart!  All the volunteers were like this, just full of love spilling over onto us, and sharing their warmth and care with us every minute we were there.

after my makeover, with my small group leader, Mary Ellen

And every time we got together as a group, there were little gifts waiting for us.  Food items that can't be purchased here, books, mugs, CD's, stationery--lots of things to make us feel like we are God's beloved daughters, and that we're not forgotten out here in the field.  I've tried to share with you a smidgen of what happened, but the truth is that it was a weekend like no other, and I'm sure I could never put into words how much it meant to me.  God bless the volunteers who loved on us, the sponsors who provided us with this FREE retreat, the hotel who served us really yummy buffet meals, and my fellow missionary ladies who opened their hearts this weekend and touched me deeply.

One of the special children who live here at Hogar Ganar had her 15th birthday last week, and she celebrated in grand style. We were privileged to be there for the event.  As we've talked about before, the 15th is a very special birthday here, akin to a bar mitzvah in Jewish communities or even closer to high society's debutante balls.  So kudos to Shaun and Sara, directors of Hogar Ganar, for being sure that the girls here who pass this milestone don't miss the opportunity to do something that is so culturally important to them.

This was so touching because a lot of people from the community came together to make this very special for Lysandry (affectionately known as Lisa).  Folks pitched in with donations of their time and services, not to mention STUFF, and it made a nice party into a spectacular party. The house parents that care for her escorted her in, just as her biological parents would have done under different circumstances.  Several pastors contributed to the gravity of the rite of passage by addressing the spiritual significance of her maturity.  There were special songs, a gigantic cake, refreshments, music, photos, videos, cheers, prayers, gifts, and of course, the traditional waltz.

How special it was to see her house dad step up and proudly dance the father-daughter waltz with her, officially presenting her to her friends and family as a young lady.  Then Lisa's little brothers took their turns, followed by a long line of young men who had lined up to have their pictures taken with the birthday girl (the quinceanera).  We got a kick out of the "dances," which technically only lasted long enough for someone to snap a picture.  Poor Lisa was spinning this way and that, with all the partners and flashes!  Then the floor was opened and everyone was invited to waltz in celebration of the beautiful night.  (It was one time I was thankful to be "handicapped!")

Caroline waltzing with one of our neighbors

Camille with Lysandry (can you see that CAKE?!)

Camille steals a dance with Sammy

Caroline and Dana, who surprised everyone by singing for Lisa in Spanish!

That's a political term I'm probably using wrong, but it seems to fit the tense state of affairs in Paraguay recently.
I never like to get notices from the government in my email inbox, but several have shown up lately to warn us of the happenings.  Of course, one or two of those were warnings to American citizens living abroad all over the world, alerting us to the Middle East threats.  Thankfully, Paraguay is relatively safe in that arena.  The bigger woes have come from within.

Just this past week, several major strikes and manifestations have taken place.  First of all, the teachers got together and decided not to go back to work until their salaries were raised to the national minimum wage.  They organized demonstrations at various key places around the country, most of them kinda near where we live.  This meant that all public schools were on "vacation," much to the delight of the children in Paraguay.

Well, those kids were stuck at home for the most part, because the bus drivers also organized a strike.  They want the government to subsidize fuel costs, if I'm understanding it correctly.  Often when there is a bus strike, those who choose not to drive block the roads and get ugly with those bus drivers who ARE working.  I didn't see nay of that this time, thank the Lord. This past week I had to do a lot of running around for pre-op appointments and studies and such, and the bus strike turned out to be a positive thing... less of them on the road means quicker and safer travel for me!  However, I'm guessing that those workers who depend on the bus system to get to their jobs didn't feel so good about it.

In addition to those two strikes, the campesinos were having a rally downtown.  Those are rather poor folks who live out in the rural areas, who want the government to give them land and houses.  There's a whole lot of political and social drama involved in that, which I won't even attempt to explain lest I butcher it all, but the gist of it is that these guys camp out in makeshift tents in public park, with their tiny children running around almost naked and all their camping supplies/clothing strewn about on the sidewalk or in the bushes.  Sometimes their demonstrations get violent, and some groups of squatters have been linked with violent attacks on landowners.

There have also been lots of rumors, news stories, and crimes lately related to the Paraguayan People's Army (known here as the EPP).  They are a rebel group from up north (we are much further south, Granny, but keep praying anyway) responsible for the deaths of several policemen lately, and rumored to be responsible for a few kidnappings.  Certain parts of the country are in what seems to be equivalent to martial law.  The EPP is all the rage in the current media, and we Yankees have been advised to stay away from the North.  No problem.

With the dollar falling and prices for food, gas, and whatever else on the steady rise, people are turning to desperate measures at times.  Each of these issues is, of course, very complicated, and there are people in need and people hurt on all sides.  Please pray for Paraguay, her leadership, and her people.

One of the benefits of living in a subtropical country is that the fruits and vegetables are just amazing.  Not only are there varieties that seem like something from a cartoon, but lots of times they are foods we recognize that seem to have come from Jurassic Park--supersized!

When all is well in the world, my appointments line up on Tuesdays in the busy capital, Asuncion.  Why Tuesdays?  That's the day each week that the ground floor in a busy parking garage converts into the greatest farmer's market known to man.  Well, at least it's the greatest farmer's market known to Paraguay.

purple onions

German cattle ranchers come in from the north with beef sausage, goat farmers come down from the Chaco with cheese and meat, little old ladies come in from their personal gardens with medicinal herbs and flowers, Oriental folks come over from their colonies with egg rolls and tea, and every empty space between these specialty stands is filled with those fruits and veggies I told you about. There are a few personal favorites among the sellers, namely the homemade doughnut place and the fresh fruit juice stand.  Okay, and Ken's fave is that German guy. It's an amazing event, with hard-to-find items and lots of excitement.

 In the aisles are teenagers with aprons and large baskets, standing at the ready for all the buyers who can't carry what they're purchasing.  These guys will follow you from stand to stand, collecting your goodies and then taking them to your car when you're done.  Like your own personal bag boy, following you as you walk around.  This kinda creeps me out, but thankfully, I have three personal bag people who can carry what we find.

Swing by on a Tuesday and we'll head to Mariscal Lopez Shopping Center for Agroshopping, then have a massive salad back at my place!