Here is a quick low down of our co-workers' ordeal with the theft of their car.
The Wright family went to the US Fourth of July Celebration here in Costa Rica and paid a guy to watch their car. When they were ready to leave, the car was gone and the "guard" said he saw it go, but claimed that he thought it was Steve driving it away. (Yeah, right! Steve is 6'6" and has a huge beard, so it is probably a bit hard to not recognize him!)
Steve filed police reports, knowing that rarely helps. Meanwhile, many of us were praying it would be returned intact.
A few days later they got a call from a guy who asked if they wanted their car back. Steve told him of course they did! The caller offered to sell it back to them for $600. Steve told him no, and suggested that instead he should use the profit from the stolen car to start a new life, since his current lifestyle was not a good option. The guy said that maybe God was telling him to just give them back the car.
The next day another guy called about selling them back the car. Steve said he wanted to talk to the first guy, but the second said that he had just gotten out of prison for stealing cars and didn't want to be involved any longer. But, this caller told Steve to contact any one of the unmarked taxi drivers at the airport, since all of them know about all stolen cars and could vouch for the legitimacy of the caller - that he would carry through on returning the car if Steve paid him! (Make sense so far?)
Steve called the police, who told him, "We think today we will find your car!" Steve (an ex-cop) spent most of the day with the cops, and they checked out downtown parking lots and found the car in one of them! With Steve's help, they staked out the parking lot and caught one of the thieves at 3AM, trying to retrieve the car. It ends up that the guy who supposedly guarded the car in the first place is likely part of the ring of car thieves. Meanwhile, Steve has had to do extra paperwork, like applying for a new title. Now they are waiting the DA to authorize the release of the vehicle.
I didn't pray with a lot of faith, I admit, but I sure give God all the credit that it looks like that soon the Wrights will have their wheels back!
Monday, July 13, 2009
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Bittersweet Memories: The Fourth of July
For various reasons, today my mind has been full of bittersweet memories of the Fourth of July – some from 2009 and some from years back. Here are a few of those thoughts and memories…
There are two sad memories I will always associate with July 4th, 2009. The first and foremost is that one of our dear friends and close relatives, Woody’s Aunt Jeanne, left behind her temporary citizenship in the United States of America, to claim her eternal citizenship in heaven. Aunt Jeanne, we will miss you. To put it more personally, I will miss you. Often Woody’s mom has a slip of tongue and call Woody “Wilfred.” Wilfred, or Uncle Bill, is Woody’s mom’s younger brother, the husband of Aunt Jeanne. Long before we were married, I knew I was truly a part of the family when Evelyn started to accidentally call me Jeanne. The name stuck, and I’m still often called Jeanne. Again, Aunt Jeanne, I will miss you. It’s awfully hard to be so far from family at moments like these.
The second sad thing I will always associate with this date in 2009 has to do with the US 4th of July picnic in Costa Rica. Our friends and team mates, Steve and Jamie Wright, helped us out with our recent short term team. They worked long hours for those ten days and more, so they were very excited to spend the day as a family with their three kids at the expat holiday celebration. After the day’s fun activities, they returned to the “guarded” parking area to find their car stolen. I’m so, so sorry, Steve and Jamie.
One other small, bad memory of today… While mowing the lawn, I got stung by bees for the third time this year. This time I had to inject myself with a steroid shot to control my allergic reaction to bee stings. We need to figure out where those bees come from and somehow get rid of them!
There were bright moments on this red, white and blue holiday. Kari was the chief holiday planner at our house. Woody is currently in Bolivia, visiting our teams there. Phil, our house guest, didn’t even know until yesterday why we celebrate the Fourth of July (he’s Australian, so is granted a pass!). Kari opted to educate our Aussie guest and provide a bit of “home away from home” for us. She fixed chicken pasta salad and baked brownies. During dinner she played patriotic songs on “YouTube,” including The 1812 Overture, Arethra Franklin’s version of My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and the Gaithers singing the national anthem. Phil made a fire in the fireplace for a marshmallow roast and then we watched the Chicago Fireworks via YouTube on our back balcony. Good job, Kari! (Phil enjoyed it, too, and learned a lot about US culture and history.)
Let me share with you a few other interesting memories of 4th of July celebrations. Kari asked me to share one of my favorite childhood memories of this holiday. I had to laugh aloud as I told her a good story with a bad ending. One time our family had a picnic in our back yard. My mom made one of my favorite desserts, “Ber Schoeller’s Bars.” This rich dessert is comprised of buttery (very buttery) graham crackers drenched in chocolate and walnuts. I loved them so much that I just couldn’t stop eating them. I really overdid it and paid the price. We’ll leave the story at that!
Our first year living outside the USA was also a bittersweet memory with a similar, but much more painfully dramatic ending. We hadn’t lived long in Bolivia when our first Fourth of July rolled around. We were both feeling nostalgic, so we went out and bought hot dogs to be our token representation of typical US holiday fare. We listened on our shortwave radio to the Voice of America as we quietly ate our tube steaks. Before the evening was out, both of us had come down with virulent cases of acute Salmonellosis. We had a apartment with two tiny bathrooms – a small feature we greatly appreciated on July 4, 1978. We never willingly ate hot dogs again during our twelve years living in Bolivia!
The best story of the Fourth of July was well summed up by the pastor of our Illinois church, Alpine Chapel.
Freedom.
It was the last word on the lips of William Wallace in the movie Braveheart – the very thing for which he died.
It was the challenge given by many of our nation’s forefathers, including the oft-quoted statement of Patrick Henry, who was also willing to die for it.
It is the thing for which soldiers throughout our history have put their lives on the line - soldiers whose sacrifice we honor and memorialize in our nation’s capital, and at parks and monuments all across our nation.
Yet, sadly, it may very well be the last thing we focus on at the typical Fourth of July celebration.
This year, why not spend some time, either alone or at your celebration, thinking about what freedom means to you – as well as what it cost. For believers in Christ, we know the ultimate freedom that is found only in the salvation which came at the ultimate cost of Jesus’ death. Through Him, our citizenship is not just as Americans, free from political tyranny; we are citizens of a different kingdom, free from the penalty and power of sin.
Aunt Jeanne, while I watch the fireworks in the skies tonight, I promise to remember the hope of joining you in our true homeland kingdom as soon as I can!
There are two sad memories I will always associate with July 4th, 2009. The first and foremost is that one of our dear friends and close relatives, Woody’s Aunt Jeanne, left behind her temporary citizenship in the United States of America, to claim her eternal citizenship in heaven. Aunt Jeanne, we will miss you. To put it more personally, I will miss you. Often Woody’s mom has a slip of tongue and call Woody “Wilfred.” Wilfred, or Uncle Bill, is Woody’s mom’s younger brother, the husband of Aunt Jeanne. Long before we were married, I knew I was truly a part of the family when Evelyn started to accidentally call me Jeanne. The name stuck, and I’m still often called Jeanne. Again, Aunt Jeanne, I will miss you. It’s awfully hard to be so far from family at moments like these.
The second sad thing I will always associate with this date in 2009 has to do with the US 4th of July picnic in Costa Rica. Our friends and team mates, Steve and Jamie Wright, helped us out with our recent short term team. They worked long hours for those ten days and more, so they were very excited to spend the day as a family with their three kids at the expat holiday celebration. After the day’s fun activities, they returned to the “guarded” parking area to find their car stolen. I’m so, so sorry, Steve and Jamie.
One other small, bad memory of today… While mowing the lawn, I got stung by bees for the third time this year. This time I had to inject myself with a steroid shot to control my allergic reaction to bee stings. We need to figure out where those bees come from and somehow get rid of them!
There were bright moments on this red, white and blue holiday. Kari was the chief holiday planner at our house. Woody is currently in Bolivia, visiting our teams there. Phil, our house guest, didn’t even know until yesterday why we celebrate the Fourth of July (he’s Australian, so is granted a pass!). Kari opted to educate our Aussie guest and provide a bit of “home away from home” for us. She fixed chicken pasta salad and baked brownies. During dinner she played patriotic songs on “YouTube,” including The 1812 Overture, Arethra Franklin’s version of My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and the Gaithers singing the national anthem. Phil made a fire in the fireplace for a marshmallow roast and then we watched the Chicago Fireworks via YouTube on our back balcony. Good job, Kari! (Phil enjoyed it, too, and learned a lot about US culture and history.)
Let me share with you a few other interesting memories of 4th of July celebrations. Kari asked me to share one of my favorite childhood memories of this holiday. I had to laugh aloud as I told her a good story with a bad ending. One time our family had a picnic in our back yard. My mom made one of my favorite desserts, “Ber Schoeller’s Bars.” This rich dessert is comprised of buttery (very buttery) graham crackers drenched in chocolate and walnuts. I loved them so much that I just couldn’t stop eating them. I really overdid it and paid the price. We’ll leave the story at that!
Our first year living outside the USA was also a bittersweet memory with a similar, but much more painfully dramatic ending. We hadn’t lived long in Bolivia when our first Fourth of July rolled around. We were both feeling nostalgic, so we went out and bought hot dogs to be our token representation of typical US holiday fare. We listened on our shortwave radio to the Voice of America as we quietly ate our tube steaks. Before the evening was out, both of us had come down with virulent cases of acute Salmonellosis. We had a apartment with two tiny bathrooms – a small feature we greatly appreciated on July 4, 1978. We never willingly ate hot dogs again during our twelve years living in Bolivia!
The best story of the Fourth of July was well summed up by the pastor of our Illinois church, Alpine Chapel.
Freedom.
It was the last word on the lips of William Wallace in the movie Braveheart – the very thing for which he died.
It was the challenge given by many of our nation’s forefathers, including the oft-quoted statement of Patrick Henry, who was also willing to die for it.
It is the thing for which soldiers throughout our history have put their lives on the line - soldiers whose sacrifice we honor and memorialize in our nation’s capital, and at parks and monuments all across our nation.
Yet, sadly, it may very well be the last thing we focus on at the typical Fourth of July celebration.
This year, why not spend some time, either alone or at your celebration, thinking about what freedom means to you – as well as what it cost. For believers in Christ, we know the ultimate freedom that is found only in the salvation which came at the ultimate cost of Jesus’ death. Through Him, our citizenship is not just as Americans, free from political tyranny; we are citizens of a different kingdom, free from the penalty and power of sin.
Aunt Jeanne, while I watch the fireworks in the skies tonight, I promise to remember the hope of joining you in our true homeland kingdom as soon as I can!
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