Fresh Perspective

A few Saturday’s ago we all gathered in front of the new hanger by 7:45 a.m..  The plane was out and ready for flight.  Quite a few church members were “coming along” with Gary and Darron on this mission flight.  This was the first “mission” flight since the weekend before Bob’s fatal crash.   Why did this “feel” different?  The plane has been flying for over a month now.  Hartley, our Indonesian pilot, has been faithfully flying about 2 flights a day.  We all still “listen” differently to the plane landing and taking off.  We have all been changed, forever.   This flight, felt different because this wasn’t a flight for money.  Not for keeping aviation operating in the black verses the red.  Not for moving goods.  No.  This flight was for mission work.  To encourage people in a remote place.  To bring them hope and light.  To let them know they have not been forgotten.  This is what Bob would have wanted.  And this was his son, Gary, carrying on this mission flight.  First solo, pass

This blog post was written by Jacob, my 3rd son.  He is 11 1/2 years old and has dyslexia.  Dyslexia is a diagnosis given to people who have great difficulty learning to read.  Jacob is brilliant (as most dyslexic people are) and has been blessed to have a phenomenal dedicated teacher who works with him for one hour, 5 days a week.  He is making great strides in reading, though it has taken much persistence and great effort on his part.  One of the tools that Jacob’s teacher has given me this year, is allowing Jacob the freedom to write, using me as his transcriber.  This has been such a fun, growing, freeing journey.  Rather then grueling over sentence after painstaking sentence, Jacob just tells me story after story.  The creativity, imagination,  and learning (of structure, storytelling, editing, word usage, and so much more), is all fully engaged.  I would have doubted the power of this type of writing 6 months ago, but now I am a believer.  The following story, Jacob “wrote” just

*This is not written from an interview.  It is written from my imagined perspective of what it must be like to work for me.  Some of it, I am quite confident is accurate…..but some of it, if I could hear the heart language, I would be way of base.  Since I cant HEAR the heart language this is my best guess at what it must be like.  Bless all the ladies who work for those of us, living in the midst of their culture.  They have helped us to survive and even thrive.*   I have now worked for Nunia (a title of respect such as madam) for over two years.  I am very proud of my job.  After all I am taking care of the Pastor’s family.  It’s not easy.  They are a large family with four boys.  Poor Nunia, she does not have any girls to help her.  They have a big house.  I often tell Nunia that she should hire 2 house helpers to do all this work, that one is not enough.  I am not the fastest worker, but no one can clean a floor like me and run the washing machine the way I can.  If anything hit