A Newfound Hero

I (Angie) was given the opportunity to pray with an amazing young woman recently. After hearing bits of her life story, she has become a hero in my eyes. For the sake of privacy, we'll call her Josephine.

Her family sold her as a child and she was brought up by traders until she was 13. She was then sold again, but this time to a brothel.

The madam she was working for has a reckless son who is involved in gangs. The son fell in love with Josephine, and though she still had to work for his mother, he married her.

They soon had a child, and a few years later, another. Josephine was given an opportunity to be freed from her enslavement and she jumped at it. What she didn't know was that she was jumping right into the waiting arms of God the Father.

She became a Christian and overcame personal obstacles to quickly grow in her faith. Her husband has not yet turned to Christ, but has expressed an interest. The fear of his mother holds him back.

So what is it that makes this precious girl so heroic? She is pregnant again, with a son, and she has chosen to name him Joseph.

She explains that Joseph was a man in the Bible who forgave his brothers for selling him into slavery.

Like Joseph, she too, has forgiven her family for selling her into slavery. This is why she is my newfound hero.

It’s All a Matter of Perspective

Today brought with it one of those moments that I like to affectionately call "Pandelirium!". Yes, I know that's not a real word, but it's one that Jason and I often borrow from the American comedian, Jeff Foxworthy. He uses it in one of his stand-up routines when describing a tornado; we use it to describe what happens in our house on occasion. It's one of those moments when everything seems to happen all at once.

Take today, for example. I was in the middle of a conversation via text with my mom, while my oldest son, Caleb, was wishing the rain would go away, and my two youngest children, Justus & Emma, were thoroughly enjoying themselves splashing in the puddles. That was all fine, but then…Emma decided to come in and was instantly STARVING. Justus decided he had had enough and was sent to the bathroom to dry off, but while trying to pull the towel off the rack, he accidentally pulled the rack off the wall! At the same time, Jason sent me a text telling me he was braving the monsoon, was on his way home from work (on his motorbike), and to please have a towel ready and waiting for him. I had puddles on my tile floor (which as you know can be a health hazard and has been the cause of more than one bruised head in my household), and was noticing the rain was now blowing into the house through the various open windows. And that, friends, is "Pandelirium!"

When I sent the above tale to my mom, however, her description of Justus was different than mine would've been in that moment. She said he was such an "exuberant helper", and she could just picture his sweet little face. Wow.

Quite often as a mom, I see the need for a change of perspective when it comes to my kids. I see the day-to-day, the telling and re-telling, the training and re-training. But what hits me like a blast of fresh air is a grandparent's perspective, and better yet, God's perspective. My kids are, after all, mighty little leaders that I have the privilege of bringing up.

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Timeout

Whew! Finally a chance to stop and catch my breath. I really do enjoy my very full and busy life, but I thank God for the chances He gives us to pause for a moment.

 

That reminds me of something my Dad once said. He had preached on a Sunday morning at City Bible Church, so Jason downloaded the message for me. I love it when Dad preaches. Not only because I get to hear the sound of his voice for a prolonged period of time, but also because the sermons he delivers are "meaty". Anyway, what I remember from the sermon was his stated dislike for some terminology that I use on a regular basis. He doesn't like it when parents use the word "timeout", for sending unruly children to the corner, etc. Having been both an athlete and a coach, he explained that the real definition of the word is actually a good thing and shouldn't carry the negative connotation that we parents give to it. In essence, we all need "timeouts", but not because we're doing something wrong…because we're doing something right!

 

The last few weeks have had their highs and lows, but not many chances to call a timeout.

 

Since my last blog on Mother's Day, there have been weddings, funerals, a graduation, and even a surprise visit from a cousin! Casi Tuttle (technically my cousin's cousin) came to Cambodia to help Cambodian Children's Fund for a couple weeks. She is a very fun and easy person to talk to. I got to show her around town a little, and even got to demonstrate what to do when the police pull you over and demand a bribe (not my favorite moment)! Casi also came laden with gifts—sunscreen and Craisins--things that are either too expensive or impossible to find over here. I think we're set for a year! She also provided me with a good reason to get out of the house for some "girl time". It was refreshing and just what I needed. Thanks again Casi! J

 

On May 20, my grandma, Leona Malmin, passed from this life to the next. Even though it was heart-wrenching not getting to be with her, God did a very special thing for me. He gave me a beautiful arrangement of the song my grandmother had written decades ago when she fell ill with polio and lost the baby girl that she was carrying in her womb. I was able to record her song and send it to her the day before she died. Dad said they had set it on repeat when they realized she was drawing her last breaths. So, even though I wasn't there, I feel like I was. I am fully aware of the prayers that others have prayed for me over the last few weeks. They've been much-needed, and deeply appreciated.

 

God is so gracious to carry us through life's seasons, if we let Him.  I can honestly say this one has been beautiful. I would rather go thru it with Him than with anyone else in the world. I would rather be in His will, and feel close to Him, than be anywhere else in the world. Nothing compares.

 

 

 

My Tribute to Moms

Aahh, it's Mother's Day. I slept in, got to have my devotions without interruption and even enjoyed a cup of my favorite tea.

Justus and Emma (my 4 and 2 year olds) greeted me with "Happy Birthday Mommy!" as soon as I emerged from my bedroom. It's the exuberance that counts…who cares that the words were wrong.

My tired but thoughtful husband then reminded the kids that they had something for me and a minute later I was presented with three handmade cards. My 8-year-old wrote "Dear Mom, have a good Mother's Day. I hope you enjoy your present. Love, Caleb", but he signed his name in cursive which made me smile. A couple of months ago, cursive had been the bane of my homeschooler's existence, but I can tell that he's proud of himself for having nearly mastered it.

Their gift to me was a beautiful imitation Pandora bracelet—you can almost always count on Cambodia to have an imitation version of everything that's trendy in the West. The kids each have a charm on it that represents them…I love it!!

I got to thinking this morning about all the women in my life who have either mothered or mentored me in some way or another. Each one has made impressions and helped to shape the woman I am today. I thought of Clarene Bottler, my kindergarten teacher, and a host of other amazing ladies that worked at Temple Christian School through my gradeschool and highschool years, ending with Carolyn Wade, our Senior home room teacher. I'm convinced that several of us wouldn't have made it through that last year of high school if not for Carolyn's steady hand comforting and guiding us.

I also thought of the ladies that worked at Portland Bible College, some while I was a kid and others while I was a student and then a staff member. I remembered how, as a child, I would go to Arlene Sanders' office for gum, and then would pop into Barbara Wright's office to cluck "This is the Day" together…yes, I said cluck, as in clucking like a chicken. We all need people in our lives who remind us not to take life too seriously.

I thought about my grandmas for a long time. One taught me to crochet and the other taught me to play the piano. Both have deeply impacted my faith in God.

Then there was Donna Lasit who fine-tuned my piano skills, and mentored me in worship. Her mother, Sharon Wagar, also took me under her wing and mentored me in ministry and missions.

Wendy Prosser, my mother-in-law, welcomed me with open arms from day one. What a generous, thoughtful and beautiful woman she is!

As you can imagine, there was one woman that my mind and memories wandered to for the entire day. My mom, Glenda Malmin.

Mom, you are the most amazing woman I know…I think of you daily and am so blessed by our regular Skype chats. Your words and the memories that we've made are constantly with me. Even though we've been separated by miles for over six years now, we are still so connected in our spirits.

Remember when we read the Amelia Bedelia books together? Now I think of you when I read books to my kids.

I remember when your grandma passed away and you couldn't go to her funeral because it was too far away. You let me sit on your lap and hug you while you cried. It meant a lot to me as a child to be allowed to comfort my mommy, who I loved so much. So now, I don't hide all my tears from my kids. I let their little arms comfort my soul.

Then there was the day in grade school when I came home with both knees scraped up and bandaged. I had fallen three times on the playground that day, and was beginning to wonder if I was the clumsiest person in the world! But, instead of scolding me for not being careful, you comforted me and told me it would be alright.

Every day, as soon as I got home from school, you would ask me how my day went. I got so in the habit of telling you everything as a child, that as a teen, I couldn't help but tell you everything…even when I didn't want to. You never forced me, but just patiently waited to lend your understanding ear. I can't thank you enough for being such a good listener.

Remember searching high and low for a decent formal dress to wear to my graduation banquet? Instead of giving up and settling for something less special, we finally found a perfect pattern and fabric, and nearly cried tears of joy. J Thanks for teaching me to rejoice over both big and little things.

Remember laughing our heads off for no reason? Even now when we get started, Dad and Jason just say, "Here they go again", and then leave us to ourselves. J Thanks for passing on your merry heart…it's good medicine.

Then came college and missions trips and the call of God began to take shape. You continually reminded me to seek God and hear His voice for myself. You believed in me and entrusted me to His care. Now that I have my own kids, I am wondering how on earth you did it! How is a mother supposed to go about releasing the precious babies who have consumed her heart and life for 20+ years? I hope I can follow your example in 10 short years when my oldest takes his first steps into adulthood.

Just the other day I reminded my little Emma that her third birthday is coming. She's been growing out of her clothes so I mentioned with a twinkle in my eye that we'll need to go shopping. She immediately brightened up and started dancing around the room saying, "Shopping spree for my birthday!". My idea of a perfect birthday, still to this day, includes lunch, pedicures, and shopping with you Mom. J

There's so much about you that I want to emulate. Your self-sacrifice, self-discipline, and selfless love. Your consistent relationship with the Father and your ear that's tuned to His voice. Your ability to laugh and let go when life hands you lemons. Your ability to cry and move on when the lemons are particularly sour. You are an amazing wife, mom, grammy, daughter, sister, pastor, mentor, teacher, and friend. Not only do your children rise and call you blessed, but so does everyone whose life you've touched.

Happy Mother's Day!

I love you so much!