Romeo.  30 years old.  Made a mess of his life.  Has two sons by two different gals.  Never married.  But he came to God in his mess, and  God has gloriously saved him.  He's in the process of transforming Romeo into the image of His Son.  It's quite something to behold.

Romeo and I have been studying together for some time now.  Once a week we get together.  Tonight we were studying in the book of Leviticus.  It's petty staggering really.  That I should be the one to lead him in this study.  The whole time I'm crying out to God to give me the right words to say.  I can think of a gazillion others who are far better equipped to be having this study.  But here I am.  Little old me.  Available.  That's my only edge.

Romeo is full of questions.  He has an amazing mind. I asked him if this was practical, useful.  He assured me it was.  Said he's learned so much and it's helping him in various areas of his life.  We talked about how the goal of this life isn't God's blessing.  The goal of this life is getting to know Him.  

Looking forward to introducing you to Romeo someday when we get Home.  You will love him.  And together we will spend eternity worshiping the One Who alone is able to transform the Romeos of this world. To Him be all the glory and the honor and the praise.

Many, many year ago, back before emails, Skype, Google, the internet, texting, cell phones, yes, even before TVs, and walking on the moon, and all sorts of other commonplace things, I had a dream. And in my dream, I was going to grow up and be a writer. Well, not just a writer, exactly. I was going to write poems. And get them published. I would become well known and travel around the nation, speaking. I had this glorious life all mapped out. I didn’t just dream, I wrote. Poems that is. And sent them to publishers so they could send me back rejection slips. I had quite a collection of them as a matter of fact. I don’t remember when, and I don’t remember how, and I certainly don’t remember why, but I stopped writing poems, stopped dreaming about becoming published. Got a firm grip on reality and grew up.

Fast forward a few years and we became foreign missionaries. I’ll never forget the very first prayer letter that I wrote. I made sure it had the requisite number of verses sprinkled liberally through it. After all, as new missionaries, people needed to see how spiritual we were. Someone who knew me well sat me down and had a long talk with me. Don’t remember much of what they said, but do remember that they expressed shock that our new mission board hadn’t given us any training on how to write a missionary letter. I had this other friend whose husband had to write news letters each month. They were in full time Christian work. He would write these masterpieces and she would toss them in the wastebasket without even reading them. He was crushed! She became my model. Every letter I wrote, I wrote to her. If I could just get her to read my prayer letter, the rest of the world would be easy.

The years rolled by and one day my dear uncle told me how much he appreciated getting those prayer letters that my husband wrote. How could he say that? How could he think that? Did he think so little of me that I was incapable of writing anything good?

Between the age of 35 and 40 I went to school. Got my degree. Somewhere in there I took a class on major American authors. Very interesting. Near the end of the semester we were assigned a paper. We had to write one more (final) chapter on any of the books we had read for the class. I mulled it over and over in my mind. Knew right away which book I wanted to “complete” as it were. But just how to say it was a challenge. Then when I got everything all lined up just right in my head, I sat down and wrote the whole thing out in one setting. Turned it in and got an A. In fact, the teacher chose to read my chapter to the class. She said the author would have really liked what I did. Felt pretty good about that.

Took another class.  This one was a poetry writing class.  At the end of the semester the teacher challenged me to write a Christmas carol.  Yeah, right!  But I did, and my husband helped me set it to music.  And I blew the teacher away.  Got an A of course.

Slowly one and then another began suggesting that I write a book. Me? Write a book? Don’t be silly. “We’re so busy living this life, we don’t have time to write about it!” became my pat answer.

Many years later I decided to start writing a blog. Not a book exactly, but maybe it would suffice. And so I blog. Mostly for me. I do let others listen in to my one-sided conversation. My blog is a couple of light years short of going viral. No worries there.

So that’s what happens to dreams. They get pushed aside by life, and then they may come back in another form. It’s funny how that works.

Have you ever noticed that life does not turn out the way it is supposed to?  Sometimes life has more twists and turns than a pretzel.  And you just wish someone would take a big bight out of it and be done with it.  

It's those dark times, those difficult times, that show what we are made of.  Those times when Heaven's silence is deafening.  Those times when nothing makes sense and there is no where to go.  And finally, finally, we come running back to God.  Only to discover that He has been there all the time.  It is He Who has been carrying us through the rough places.  

We come to know Him better.  We come to trust Him more fully.  We come to see glimpses of His greatness in the midst of the blackest darkness.  And we are changed.

We come through the other side and listen to ourselves relating how we would not have wished that experience on to our worst enemy, but how we would not change any part of it for the world.  It was there that we saw facets of God we never knew existed.  

Been thinking a lot about that these last couple of days.  We've had more times of darkness and confusion and pain and suffering (emotional and physical) than you could shake a stick at.  And every one of them have become treasured high points in our journey towards Heaven and home.  

We want to know Him in the fellowship of His suffering.  Bring it on!  We have more growing to do.  We're not ready yet to stand in the brilliance of His Glory.

We sat down this evening and re-watched the team's report on their time here in Cameroon.  We still tear up as we listen to them.  Our throats get tight as we are reminded of all the many ways God used them out here in the village.  And we still want to tell them to hop the next plane back out here.  They were such a vital part of birthing a new church which has every prospect of turning into churches in three villages.

Honestly, if you ever have an opportunity to go on a short-term mission trip, you would be crazy to pass it up.  You never know what God is going to do next.  He is amazing!

Do you ever feel like you don't fit in?  Life isn't working out the way you thought it would or should?  You're having problems at work with your boss, or maybe with someone you supervise.  Your marriage isn't all you were dreaming about.  In-law troubles.  Don't get along with your siblings.  Had a falling out with a good friend.  No matter what you try, it just isn't working.

I counsel a lot of people that feel that way.  I have the same problem.  Finally came to realize that I don't fit in around here cuz I wasn't made for this earth.  I'm a pilgrim.  A stranger.  Just passing through.  I "fit in" in Glory.  That's my Home.  When I get my eyes back on Him, none of the problems of this life matter anymore.  They fall into perspective.  I'm Heaven bound.  I was created for that life, not for this one.  

Even so, come quickly Lord Jesus.

Today I'm taking full advantage of all my bragging rights.  And rightly so.  It's not often that a mother can brag about something like this.

Our Navy son (24 years of faithful service) has just been promoted to Master Chief.  Now, if you're like me, you don't know much about all these things.  So I went to the internet to learn some things.  Now I can talk with authority.  Here's the deal.  For an enlisted man there are nine ranks.  Master Chief is the 9th and final rank.  Only 1% ever achieve this rank.  It's a very big deal.  

We are incredibly proud of our son.  Jim's practically stopping strangers on the street to tell them about this!   But far more important for us is the fact that Tim, his wife Carmen, and their children walk well with God.  His light shines brightly wherever he goes.

How well we remember the times we have been on base with Tim down through the years.  So often we meet his commanding officer.  And always we hear what a fine man Tim is.  He's bright, honest, moral, friendly, hard working, always looking out for others, helpful, kind, and on and on the list goes.  They thank us for raising such a fine man.  We swell with pride and say "thank you Lord" cuz we know that it isn't us.  We made more than our fair share of mistakes.  God is very gracious, loving and kind.

Congratulations Tim.  Keep on keeping on until Jesus comes.  That's all we ask of you.  That's all we've ever wanted.

Her mother is a very good friend of mine.  The daughter asked for a summer job.  We've considered doing this in the past, but this is the first time we have actually brought someone here to Shiloh for the summer.  Summer is actually July, August, and September cuz that's when school is out.  She's learning all sorts of things, working hard, and is making a good contribution to our ministry.  A quiet girl, we often hear her humming as she works.  She loves the Lord with all of her heart.  Her light shines brightly for Him.

We have a lovely man here with us now.  Strong Christian.  He's an auditor.  His company sends him all over the place.  When he comes to Yaounde, he comes to Shiloh.  We love having him.  All sorts of people use Shiloh for all sorts of reasons.  And we do it all for the Glory of God.

Would it be cheating to post part of an email we received today?  Sure hope now.  It arrived at a moment when we really needed it.  Life can be overwhelming at times.  We need each other.

[We] continue to hold you and Jim in the highest regard; we see you as spiritual giants, people who have obeyed God to the farthest reaches of their souls, and when you've given all you've got, God has said to you time and time again, "Give Me more."  Then you do, you serve beyond your limits and you are stretched beyond what you thought you could stand and then you see God's glory- I can see your radiant face through your emails- radiant because God is shining so much of Himself through your heart and fingertips (so much of your serving is ACTUAL hard work, laundry and repairs and mopping and such, all done for Jesus' people) and it's bouncing off of the people and circumstances around you and reflecting back to you and you pause in it, you soak it in.  It grows you and changes you, and the cycle begins again, often before you've had a chance to catch your breath from the last one.

He told me that he brought his wife here to Shiloh for a five day retreat just to let her know how much he loves her.  And that he will always be by her side.

Kinda made me think of another man who told how he loves his wife so much.  She's his completer.  The areas he is weak in, she is strong.  And the areas she needs help, well, he can help her.  

 We've said it many times.  It remains as true today as it was the first time we voiced this opinion.  A Cameroonian sold out to God is something to behold.  They just take our breath away.  Put us to shame.  We thought we were coming out here because we had something to offer them.  Ha!  They teach us so much.  We are humbled in their presence.  What an honor to get to live out here on the Dark Side of the Moon.  Wouldn't trade places with anyone, even for all the tea in China.

Guy and Romeo are at a men's retreat at church today and tomorrow.  Francis and his little sister held down the fort today.  Making granola, cleaning the newly vacated room, washing windows.  You know, the normal stuff.  Jim and I took off for a nearby store to do some shopping.  It's rare to get Jim out of the house so we made it special.  They are selling school supplies right now.  It's the only time of the year you can buy them.  A box of chalk for our blackboard in the village house.  A new calculator for Jim.  Some coloring books, crayons, and paints for three little girls at Christmas.  Black felt tip markers.  And look at this...post-its!  Amazing!  Every year they bring in more and more stuff.  Soon we won't ever need to go back to the states! 

Today was National Bathroom Cleaning Day.  Not what you think of when you hear the word "missionary work" but it's all part of the larger whole.  Everything we do, we do for the Glory of God.  That includes cleaning bathrooms.  We've gone for several days not having city water, so haven't been able to do a good cleaning.  Yet we've had lots of men in the house.  So cleaning bathrooms became our priority this day, now that the water is back on.  All five of them.  And now they all sparkle and shine like they haven't in a long time.  For the Glory of God.

Spent the last two days sleeping a lot, reading books, and in general, being as lazy as possible.  Realizing that I can no longer go like "a house a fire" at my age.  Got to learn to slow down.  Not an easy lesson to learn.

Things are calm here at Shiloh.  There are several guests in the house, but not doing any meals.  Francis has had the last two days off, too.  Guy is taking two days off at the end of the week.  We all need to recover.

So not much to report, except that God is good.

It's funny how life can change with a phone call.  Our friend phoned to tell us that she had talked with the surgeon about Nadine's badly burned back.  He told us not to come at this time.  He wanted us to take pictures instead and send them up to him.  After studying the pictures, he would know what he was facing.  Then he will schedule an appointment for the surgery.  This will save us time and money.  I was in the midst of packing my suitcase.  In addition to hanging cloths back in the closet, I began phoning people.  There was Eric who will drive us.  Then there was my good friend Dorothy whom we were going to visit.  She lives not too far from the hospital.  And last, our pastor friend Eugene.  I was planning to delivering to him all the oil paints and the scissors that the team brought out from America for he and his wife.  We will still visit these people, just later.  So we are waiting for detailed instructions on how to take these pictures.  God's timing is perfect.  We rest in Him.

It's been a long day.  A long week.  And it all ends tomorrow.  But we have greatly enjoyed this group of men from various African countries.  We've joked with them.  Had serious conversations.  Served them.  And soon we will miss them.  

Before there is time to rest up from this week, I will be packing my bags and heading up to Mbingo with Nadine.  Praying, praying, praying that the doctor will be able to schedule surgery immediately.  Hate to think of having to come all that way back down here only to turn around in a few days or a week or two and do it all over again.

5:45 a.m. - alarm jolts us awake

6 a.m. - let the guard go home, then shower and get the day started

7:30 a.m. - serve breakfast to around ten people (it varies)

10 a.m. - serve morning coffee break 

12 noon - serve lunch to thirteen people

 2 p.m. - serve afternoon coffee break

6 p.m. - serve dinner to ten plus 

7:30 p.m. - show movies to our guests

10 p.m. - hope to be heading for bed

In between all of that:

   *cook food

    *set the table

   *clear the table off

   *put the leftovers away

   *wash dishes

   *put dishes away

   *sweep and mop dining room floor

   *open and shut the gate all day long, letting people in and out

   *make photocopies for the leaders of the conference going on at Shiloh

   *do laundry

   *hang laundry on the lines outside

   *take laundry down, fold and put away

Otherwise we're just sipping coffee and watching soap operas.

 

 

He's been a friend for many years.  In fact we became close when we were going through a very difficult time in our lives.  He and I became prayer partners.  We prayed together regularly.  And now he is the one going through a very difficult time.  Has been for the last few years.  And I have been holding him up in prayer.  

Today he came to Shiloh to visit one of the missionaries who is here putting on the conference.  When he saw me he let me know that it is over now.  They fired him.  And he is free!  We talked for awhile about the goodness of the Lord.  Even in the difficult times He is with us.  He is in the business of fashioning us ever more into the image of His dear Son.  I reminded him that he has become very valuable for the Master's use.  All that he has suffered will be used to help others who are coming after him.

The missionary just sat and listened.  Finally I went back in the house.  I could hear the missionary say "She knows."  My Cameroonian friend said "Oh my yes!  She knows."  When it came time for him to leave, he found me and thanked my for the things I shared with him.  He said that he came to Shiloh today hoping to receive a blessing.  He believes that God used me to deliver that blessing to him.  And the missionary agreed.  He, too was blessed.  Well we all were.  Every time we take our eyes off our circumstances and look up to the Altogether Lovely One, blessings flow all over the place.

Two whole days ago our children celebrated ten years of wedded bliss.  And we let the day slip by unnoticed.  So to make up for it, we sent them this email.  (Just count your blessing that you don't have us for parents!)

Dearest Timothy A. and Carmen,

We bow before you on bended knee and beg your forgiveness for overlooking your anniversary.  It's not just any anniversary of course, but your 10th.  Double digits.  How the years fly by.

We are forever and always humbly grateful to the lovely Carmen for removing the stigma of an unmarried son from our family.  And to have put up with him for all these years.  Truly, you deserve a purple heart. 

Thank you for being our favorite middle and our favorite middle's wife.  Thank you for walking in truth before our Lord.  Thank you for letting your light shine all the way to Cameroon and to the moon and beyond.  Thank you for being an example to us and to so many others.  Thank you for giving us two precious children who bring smiles to our faces.  Thank you for continuing to graciously tolerate us.  (I see another purple heart coming your way.)

I just looked up "purple heart".  This is a complete misuse of the term.  But surely you get my meaning.

Keep loving each other.  Keep racing to be the first to ask forgiveness.  Keep modeling godliness to your world.  And don't stop tolerating us.  We will try to keep out of your way out here in Darkest Africa for as long as we can.

We love you first, we love you most, we love you always,

The Elderly Tuckers

He hasn't told any of his family.  Nor the in-laws.  And he won't let our team come over yet.  He wanted to have Papa Jim first.  Just wanted to honor him and bless him and thank him for the great gift he gave.  You see, it was Papa Jim that gave all the money for the land.  And it was Papa Jim that gave all the money to build the house.  And even though the house isn't finished, it's livable.  In fact, he told his wife that they should keep on working on the  house and not move in for another month.  She told him that he could keep on renting if he wanted to, but she was moving into the new house!  So that was that!

It's much bigger than we expected.  All 1,900 square feet of it.  They have a glass front door.  Very nice.  And the bedrooms are large.  All four of them.  They have two bathrooms inside and one more outside.  He has a small office.  She has a large walk-in pantry and a lovely kitchen.  Plus an outdoor kitchen.  Very necessary for Cameroonian cooking. The girls are so excited.  While they could each have their own room, they have opted to continue sharing a room.

We brought them a house warming gift.  Two young hens just ready to start laying.  One young rooster. They were very excited.  The girls each claimed a hen and quickly came up with names.

Can't think of a better use for our small retirement fund than to help Guy and Marie, little Marie and Persil have a home of their own.  Now they need a dog.  We're keeping our eyes open for one.  So if you hear of anything, let us know.

God is forever astounding me.  Have you ever noticed that He never does things the same way twice?  He's the God of endless variety.  He continually takes my breath away.  

They were traveling up from Daoula, going through Yaounde, on their way to Nkolinga for an evangelistic campaign.  They do this about once a month.  Then on their way home, they usually spend the night at Shiloh.  We've become friends over the years.  But this time she wasn't feeling well.  By the time they reached Yaounde she told her husband she just couldn't make it.  He pulled the car over and said he would get a taxi to take her to Shiloh.  She could spend two days there sleeping and getting better.  So he jumped out of the car and began flagging down the first taxi that came along.

Meanwhile our dear friend and favorite taxi driver Eric had put in a hard morning.  He had gone home and laid down to take a nap, thinking he was through for the day.  Suddenly the Holy Spirit began speaking to his heart, nudging him off the bed and out the door.  "Get back out there and drive taxi for awhile" He seemed to say.  Having walked with God for many years, he knew his Master's voice and had no trouble obeying.  No sooner did Eric get out to the main road than he saw a man waving his taxi down.  His was the first taxi to come along.

This is where the story gets really amazing.  The man asked him if he could take his wife somewhere between Mvan and Tropicana.  "Sure", he could do that. 

"Had he ever heard of a place called College Yondo?"  

"Of course!" 

As the man was tucking his wife into the taxi he told her "Now when you get to College Yondo, you are going to have to guide him to Shiloh."

Eric said "Shiloh?!"

The man asked if he knew Shiloh.  "Sure!" replied Eric.  

"How do you know Shiloh?  Do you know Guy?"

"Yes, I know Guy.  He's my brother."

"He's my nephew!"

As they drove off towards Shiloh, the wife explained that her husband was a pastor in Daoula.   

You have to understand that not every taxi driver in the city has heard of College Yondo.  Only God could bring along the right person at the right time.

I watched their service and the tears started streaming down my face.  I wanted them to come back.  Just get on a plane and come back!  

Is it called live streaming?  Who knows.  Whatever they call it, I got to see the part of their church service that was put on line.  And there they all were, telling what impressed them the most about their time in Cameroon.  And there I was, bawling my eyes out.

The  church in Arizona let the team they sent out to help us have the entire church service on Sunday.  They showed a video which I didn't get to see.  But then they started talking and at one point, all the lights went off as they turned on their little lanterns.  They wanted everyone to get a feel for what it was like to be at the community center in the village.  What a great idea!

I'm sure hearts were blessed.  How could they help but be?  I was deeply moved.  And I've had front row seats to what God is doing in Eyene for many, many years.  All the attacks from the evil one.  All the persecution.  All the death threats.  All the mocking.  The good times and the bad.  And to see what the team saw...well, words fail.

To God be the glory.  Great things He has done.

 

What a wild day!  Francis left shortly after feeding our guests their breakfast.  He just went up to the grocery store at the corner.  Soon he phoned to say they were out of what he was looking for.  He needed to buy oatmeal so he could come back and make granola for tomorrow's breakfast.  We told him to go on into town and find it there.  Long about 11:45 a.m. he was in a taxi coming back and not far from Shiloh.  Suddenly the police stopped the taxi and made all the occupants go to the police station.  There was a complaint against the taxi and they supposed everyone inside was guilty of something.

Francis was really scared when they arrived at the police station and started taking their phones and bags away from them.  He had just gotten paid and was afraid they would find his money.  By God's grace they never saw it.

They were tied up for hours at the police station.  They had to phone the man who had registered the complaint against the car. When he finally showed up, it turned out to be the wrong car, the wrong driver.  At the end of the day they were all allowed to go home.  We had showed up by then and took Francis off in our taxi.  He was never so glad to see us in his whole life.  He said you loose all your rights when you are in a situation like that.  

The granola?  Well I'm going to make cooked oatmeal for breakfast and not worry about it!