Water prefers to run downhill.  It's a well known fact.  The small walled in yard surrounding Shiloh slopes gently down hill from front to back. These facts combine to create an interesting phenomenon here.  When the rains come, which, living in a tropical rain forest as we do, they come in torrential sheets, a small river flows under the car gate.  It travels down the driveway and on into the carport.  Eventually the low point of the carport fills and water then spills into the draining ditch running along the back of the property, ending up at an exit hole in the far back corner of our yard.  From there it flows onto the neighbors large garden, providing more than enough water for all his plants.   But flowing water has a tendency to pick up things and carry them along in the flow.  And so the neighbor's dirt from the property up the hill from us is steadily but surely relocating itself into the neighbor below's garden.  You would think that eventually the upper property would be completely void of soil, and that the property below would be rising to new heights, but that's not what's happening.  To the naked eye, everything seems to be exactly as it was when we moved in here the better part of ten years ago.  

So why are we talking about this phenomenon, you ask?  Good question.  Today we cleaned out the lower corner of the drainage ditch.  Lots of mud and gunk accumulates there until water can no longer flow on out to the lower neighbor's garden.  It's a several times a year project.  

Thought you should know that life at Shiloh is not all glitz and glamor.  Some days are full of the mundane.  And it does not get more mundane than shoveling mud.  But whatever we do, we do it all for the Glory of God. 

They're all  gone now.  The last two left at 6:30 this morning.  Shiloh is completely empty.  For the first time all month long.  Nobody in the house.  Nobody coming to Shiloh.  Our next reservation is for Friday.  With more coming on Saturday.  And on and on it will go.  Of course there are always those surprises.  Anybody could phone at any time.  Or send an email requesting a room.  Or just show up at the gate hoping against hope that there is a room just waiting for them.  

But this moment, this quiet moment, is a gift from God.  Back in the early years I used to be troubled by quiet days.  What are we doing wrong?  Why isn't anybody here?  Should we change this?  Or maybe we should change that?  I would look back in the reservation book to see what it was like this day one year ago.  And if I found that we were crazy busy back then, I'd be all worried.  Wondering what we had changed.  What we're doing to drive people away.  Slowly I figured it out.  Those down times, those quiet days, those are rare gifts from God.  He knows when we need to be quiet.  He knows when we need to re-group.  He knows when we need to recover.  He knows that it is OK to just be Papa Jim and Mama Alice without any guests at all.  And He does all things well.

So we've been enjoying a whole day of solitude.  Hours and hours of quiet.  Peace.  No pressure.  No keeping an eye on the time.  No last minute preparations.   Nobody knocking on our bedroom door.  Nobody ringing the bell at the gate.  It's been fantastic.  What a great gift.  

Tonight we are going to do something we do on rare occasions.  We're going to check out the bed in one of our guest bedrooms.  Several guests back we had a complaint from someone.  Said the bed was too soft.  When we quarried him, he allowed as how he has a bad back.  But  bad back or bad bed, we need to find out.  And so we will spend the night in that room and judge for ourselves.  We rarely get complaints about anything, but when we do, we always check it out.  Over the years we've spent the night in every single bed in the house, tried out every single bathroom, experienced Shiloh from every angle through the eyes of our guests.  And we've learned a lot.  Made a few tweaks here and there.  So if you hear our snores coming from a strange corner of Shiloh, you'll understand why.

Things are hopping at Shiloh.  Eight Cameroonians have come in from five countries for a four day conference.  They are sleeping at Shiloh.  Eating three meals per day in our dining room.  Conducting their meetings on the balcony.  And having coffee breaks both morning and afternoon.  

This is not the first time they have been to Shiloh.  In fact we've known the leader of this group since he was in his early twenties, back when he was just starting out in full time Christian work.  We've watched him grow up in the Lord over these past twenty some odd years.  We are always blessed when he comes to Shiloh, whether he's here individually or with his group.

Yesterday while setting the table for their first breakfast at Shiloh, one of the men stopped by to talk with me.  As we introduced ourselves he suddenly said "I know you.  We met at Dorothy Ngo's wedding in Belo."  Wow!  That was over ten years ago, up in the mountains above Bamenda in the North West Region.  And he remembers me?  

It's an honor having this group here at Shiloh.  It's one of the many fringe benefits  of this ministry.  It's true that they are keeping us busy, but it's a good kind of busy.  Serving ones who are impacting their world for our Lord is what we are all about.

 

We have banded together to pray for Marie.  Individually.  In our families.  As a team.  She's on our hearts continuously.  

What a shock it was for her to be with her father yesterday when he died so suddenly and unexpectedly.  And to have to sit there by his body while waiting for Guy to come.  

Guy who was called out of school.  Guy who scrambled to make emergency arrangements.  Informing his seminary professors that he would be missing classes for the time being.  Making arrangements for someone to pick the girls up after school and care for them until whatever time he and Marie would return home.  Phoning ones who could help him financially in this crisis moment.  And finally finding a bush taxi that would take him the hours drive to Marie.  

What must she have gone through.  The numbness that comes with shock.  All alone with death.  Not permitted to run away.  Chained there by cultural constraints.  

When it was all over, when Guy had finally arrived (just as quickly as humanly possible), when the hospital had been paid so the body could be released, when the body had been transported to the closest morgue and the required deposit paid, when they returned to the village to meet with a stunned and shocked family, when they were finally able to return to Yaounde and to their girls, when Marie lowered her exhausted body onto their bed, sleep evaded her.  She tossed and turned through what was left of the night.  Thoughts tumbling around in her head.  Emotions rising and falling.  Memories crowding on top of each other. 

We are committed to praying for her.  Often.  Continuously. Unfailingly.  We are united.  We are family.  We stand together. How grateful we are that she knows the God of all peace.  The Great I Am.  The One Who alone is able to carry her through this difficult time. 

She died on January 11th after a brief illness.  Since Marie, Guy's wife, had been named for this aunt, they had heavy responsibilities to bear.  The burial  was on Saturday, January 20th, out in the village.  Aunt Marie was Marie's father's sister, and the two of them were the last remaining ones in their family of origin.  And now she was gone.  The entire clan gathered together to lay her body to rest.  Shortly before the casket was closed, Marie's father began talking to his deceased sister.  He told her that she went away first.  And then he said that she should wait for him, he would be coming soon.  Guy overheard his father-in-law's words and was troubled by them.  

And then this morning Marie's mother phoned to tell her to get to the village quick.  Her father was in very bad shape.   She caught a bush taxi to the village and walked in the front door of the house within the hour.  Marie took one look at her father and immediately went in search of a taxi.  She accompanied him to the closest hospital, some distance away.  No sooner had she helped her father into his hospital bed, than he died.  Just like that.  No advance warning.  He was in good health when the family was altogether for the burial of his sister on Saturday.  Had remained in good health on Sunday and on Monday.  And now he was gone.  

We knew this man.  He stayed here at Shiloh on two occasions surrounding the marriage of Guy and Marie.  Since his youngest daughter married our son, he was part of our extended family.  We have visited him in his home in the village at least twice.  We established a audio Bible listening group in his home.  We will certainly be at his burial.  We have family obligations.

The saddest part of this death is that the father was not the least bit interested in our Lord.  Guy and Marie faithfully witnessed to him for more than ten years.  He didn't want anything to do with God.  And now it's forever too late.  

Papa Jim answered the phone shortly after noon.  Was he home?  Could the two pastors come over for a visit?  They would be "right there".  Since they were operating on Cameroonian time, their "right there" turned out to be three hours later.  

Papa Jim was home alone when they arrived.  He sat them down in the living room.  Gave them soft drinks.  Politely chatted away with them on whatever topic they chose.  Knew that sooner or later they would get to the real reason for the visit.  Sure enough, more than an hour after they arrived, they began explaining how God was leading their church to move to a new location.  (God gets blamed for an awful lot of things.)  

Bit by bit the real story began coming into focus.  The owner of the property they had been using wanted his land back.  They were given a deadline for getting off his property, which had come and gone.  They managed to find another place where they could temporarily relocate the church.  But they were fearful of having the same thing happen to them there in the near future.  So the best solution would be to buy land and build their own building.  

Amazingly, a search for vacant land in that part of town turned up a wonderful opportunity.  The parcel of land was way bigger than their little group of 20 would ever need.  But just think what they could do!  Once the land was bought and paid for, and a lovely, modern church building was built, they would have plenty of room left over for a school and even a hospital.  

At this point in the conversation the senior pastor pulled out a rather elaborate letter that they had had printed up.  It talked about all these wonderful, visionary plans.  And Jim Tucker's name was printed on the letter!  Would you look at that!  They had even selected how much money Papa Jim would of course be willing to contribute to the initial land purchase and how much he would then give for the church building.  It seems that Jim Tucker was to be the main benefactor for their elaborate vision.  The implication was clear.  Once the church was built, said Jim Tucker would continue producing money from his bottomless supply of funds to build the school and then the hospital.

Sadly, the two pastors left Shiloh empty handed.  But they will be back.  They simply have to come again and see if they can find Mama Alice at home.  Surely they will be able to convince her to convince her husband to get on board with this vision that is straight from God.  

I DON'T THINK SO!  But nice try guys!!!  Life is seldom dull at Shiloh.  (Did we mention that before?)

We were already in bed.  Grateful to have been able to get an early start on the night.  Our guests had been invited out for dinner which is why we had such luxury.  I was pulled back to semi-consciousness by the doorbell.  Reminding myself that the guard was on duty and would let the guys back in the house, I rolled over and settled in for more badly needed sleep.  (We've been meeting ourselves coming and going for endless busy days...loving every minute of interaction with this great group of helicopter mechanics, but wearing down to a frazzle.)  

Just as sleep was claiming me, the doorbell rang again.  Now who could that be??  Before long there was a knock on our door.  Stifling a groan, I rolled out of bed and threw on some cloths.  

"Mama Alice, there is a man at the gate who is looking for a room for the night," Joseph reported.

"Tell him it's late.  He can come back tomorrow at 8 a.m.  No, wait...there is someone else coming in tomorrow.  Tell him the house is full," I replied.

"But Mama Alice, there is a white man with him."

"A white man?? At this time of night??  OK.  I'll come down with you."

Taking Joseph's flashlight out of his hand, I began shining it in the crack between the metal gate and the cement block wall.  That crack has saved our bacon more times than we can count.  We conduct all kinds of business with people who are trying  to  seduce us into letting them inside Shiloh through that crack.  We love it!

OK, there are his eyes.  That's what I've been searching for.  The strategy  is to blind him with the flashlight.  Actually I only saw one eye, and I kept the light aimed on it the whole time.  

"Good evening.  I'm Reverend (whatever) and I need a room for the night.  I'm sorry to be arriving so late, but I've been walking around for a very long time, looking for a room for the night.  I've been going all through the neighborhood searching and searching.  Finally I found someone who talked about Shiloh.  But they didn't know where Shiloh was.  So I began asking everywhere if someone could direct me to Shiloh.  Finally I met the Koreans.  The Koreans told me they know where Shiloh is.  The Pastor (you know...M.E.C.K) tried to direct me to Shiloh, but I couldn't figure out where it was.  So he sent his son to guide me here.  I'm here with his son.  So please open the gate and let me have a room for the night."

This may not seem like a flaky story to the uninformed, but I could drive a Mac truck through the holes in his tale! At that point I needed to be extremely careful how I responded.  Any information a thief can inadvertently collect will be most useful for him next time around.  And the eye I was blinding clearly belong to a bad guy.  No question about it.  Won't bore you with the list of indicators in his narrative that screamed he was up to no good.  Suffice it to say, we've been around the block a time or two and can't be so easily taken in anymore.

I simply let him know that it was very late and we don't open our gate to anyone at this time of night.  It is dangerous for him (well, not HIM in particular...HE'S the dangerous one!) and it is dangerous for us, too.  

Once inside the house, Joseph told me that he had already told the man that it was too late, but the man insisted that he had to talk to the person in charge.  And that is what confirmed that our suspicions were correct.  Only a "bad guy" would act like that.  If he was on the up and up, he would have politely apologized for disturbing us and gone on his way. 

And the white person Joseph saw??  We have no idea who that was, or what that was all about.  I only saw the eye of a non-white person.  We're just grateful that God once again protected us from what would surely have been a theft, or worse. 

I told him not to do it.  "Don't do."  (That's a direct quote.)  Said it in English.  No chance for confusion.  I went on to remind him that they would be coming here to Shiloh NOT to help us out with our projects, but to work on a helicopter.  And they would be BUSY, BUSY, BUSY.  It wouldn't be right for him to try to get them to work on a project for him while they were here.  And he agreed with me.  Or so I thought.  At least until they arrived.  Somehow or another, behind my back, he managed to talk to them about his broken generator.  And they were eager to help him work on it.  What do I know about anything???

So there they were, five technicians, (three helicopter mechanics, Papa Jim, and Joseph our night guard) all crowded around the generator.  Turns out they were sick to death of doing nothing and most eager to tackle a project.  Any project.  Bring it on!  They had flown on one plane and then another and another for two days.  Now they had been resting up, relaxing, getting acclimated to this time zone for two days.  And they were sick to death with doing nothing.  Taking a motor apart, looking at all those interesting screws and wires and what all else was just what they wanted to do.  They were excitedly all talking at once.  "Oh look at this!  Have you ever seen anything like this before?"  I slipped away to our room to read a book.   Left them to their fun.  

Several hours later they had officially diagnosed the problem, gone on line and found the replacement part, and collectively fainted on the floor!  Turns out it's not worth it.  You can buy a new generator for less than that.  But everybody had had fun, and that's what counts.

They arrived last night and will spend the better part of two weeks here at Shiloh.  They're here to work on a mission helicopter.  

While eating ham sandwiches when they arrived, we discovered that one of the guys is from a church in CA that Jim sang at fifty years ago.  His parents and grandparents are active in that church, too.  While we've never heard of his particular clan, we have many church friends in common.  Amazing!

Over breakfast we discovered that another one of the group was born and raised in Phoenix AZ.  He actually knows where Catalina AZ is.  And we discovered that we have various and sundry missionary friends in common.  Astounding!

Lingering over the lunch table we unearthed the fact that the reaming man had actually maintained the mission plane some years ago that flew my cousin and family out to a remote village where they were translating God's Word.  Imagine that!  To have someone staying here at Shiloh who actually knows my cousin!  Unbelievable!

We never know whom God will send to Shiloh next.  The world is a very small place.  

We're too  busy at Shiloh to think right now.  Preparations are in full swing for the next group.  They arrive tomorrow night from the U.S.  Three helicopter pilot/mechanics.  They're coming to work on a new helicopter that has recently arrived in country.  Belongs to another mission.  They will be sleeping at Shiloh for the better part of two weeks.  Eating an early breakfast every morning.  Eggs, toast, cereal, yogurt, fruit, coffee, the works.  A hearty meal will be waiting for them each evening when they return from a long days work at the hanger.

In and around ministering to other Shiloh guests, we have been working on menus, doing a big shopping, cooking and freezing anything and everything that can be made ahead, figuring out schedules as we will all be working longer hours, plus all the normal stuff.   Things like washing and ironing, sweeping, mopping, and dusting.  And turning right around and sweeping, mopping, and dusting all over again.  Harmattan dirt is never conquered.

The day, the very day the pilots leave us, a group of eight Cameroonians will be arriving.  They will be sleeping here at Shiloh, conducting their planning meetings in our library, and eating meals in the dining room.  We'll be spending that day cleaning rooms and preparing yummy Cameroonian food. 

A lady phoned yesterday afternoon wanting to come right over for a three day spiritual retreat.  Had to tell her we are full up until January 29th.  She was shocked to put it mildly.  No self respecting Cameroonian plans that far ahead! 

Ants.  

Ubiquitous.  

Universal.

Unavoidable. 

Hard working.  

Invasive.  

Irritating.  

Various varieties.  

Pesky.  

Persistent.  

Difficult to eradicate.  

Have conquered the globe.  

Love 'em...hate 'em...they're here to stay.

In 47 years of glob trotting missionary living we've known leaf cutter ants, fire ants, large ants, small ants, indoor ants, outdoor ants, ants, ants, ants.   

Have been obliged to share space with small sugar ants these past twenty six years.  As ants go, they're not so bad.  In the early years we fought a fierce and ultimately loosing battle with them.  Eventually learned they serve an important function in our lives.  These miniature scavengers will devour dead insects in short order.  And any food that is accidentally dropped.    They are serious house cleaners.  We've learned to live in harmony with our ants.

Even though sugar ants have been known to bite, several times each and every day, they do no real harm.  They continually scamper over our cloths and exposed body parts on little ant legs.  Lightweight, we hardly know they are there.  That is, until they decide it's time to take a bite out of us.   While we almost never feel their feet, we always feel their bite.  Just a little sting.  Nothing serious.  No welts left behind.  No itching, scratching aftermath.  The tiny sting directs us to their precise location, where we quickly snuff out their life.  And return to living in harmony with their multitudinous relations.

It was a day of investing in the lives of people.  Of all the many and varied things we do here at Shiloh, this is my favorite.

It started at breakfast with a young Cameroonian guest.  Some of our best teaching times happens around the table.  Conversation ebbs and flows and before long we are sharing deep truths about our Lord.  This particular discussion centered on the importance of investing our lives for the Kingdom.  We pass this way but once.  There are no make-overs in life.  The sins of yesterday can only be admitted to, confessed, and forsaken.  There is no going back and getting it right.  Even if we live to be 100, life passes very quickly.  Only what's done for eternity will last.   Each day and in every way, we need to live with  eternity in mind.  And we do it all so imperfectly.  But we keep coming back to the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  In His strength alone we move forward.  It's all about Him.  It has exactly nothing to do with me and mine and look how wonderful I am.  We each left the table challenged to make our brief remaining time count for eternity.

Mid afternoon a missionary lady, who has been out here for three years, finally found the time to come and visit us.  She has heard all about us from her employee.  He and his family used to live in one of the small studio apartments right next door to us.  In fact his wife used to sell tomatoes and other vegetables.  It was so utterly convenient to walk to her little stand when we were running low on things.   We knew the husband worked for a mission organization, but we didn't know exactly who, or what he did.  And then two weeks ago Jim had an opportunity to help a lady in distress.  You may recall she was the one who lost the key to her safe.  Now Jim Tucker has added "safe cracking" to his long list of useful skills.  (Which proves that one is never too old to learn new things!)  

We gave her a tour of Shiloh.  She was very curious to learn more about our spiritual retreat center and see it for herself.  And then we settled down in the living room for a good long visit.  Turns out she was born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area.  Owns a house not far from one of Jim's brothers.  Has a brother living in close proximity to one of Jim's sisters. Have you ever noticed how, the older we get, the more the world shrinks?    Amazing!  Before long she was sharing some of the ways God had led in her life.  We were inspired by her story, and we were drawn deeper into the wonder of our Lord and Master.  Her brief stint in missions is coming to a close.  She has one last project to tackle before retiring back to her beloved Bay Area.  She's raised two children, buried two husbands, is two years older than me, is involved in the lives of four adult step-children, has multiple grandchildren and step-grands, and her life is all about God.  Here is a woman who is living out all the things we talked about around the breakfast table.  And we were challenged to invest our remaining time in the kingdom.  "Only one life, 'twill soon be past.  Only what's done for Christ will last."

As the day was winding down, a wonderful Cameroonian brother wanted to visit with us.  He was just finishing up a spiritual retreat here at Shiloh.  He does not come very often, but each time he does, we love being around him.  He is such a blessing and an encouragement to us.  Our relationship with him goes way back.  More than twenty years ago when we first met, he was a young many just starting out in life.  Now he is the father of teenagers, he's a pastor, and his life is being lived 100% for the glory of God.   A Cameroonian on fire for the Lord is something to behold.  It's breathtaking.  We learn so much from them.  And from this brother in particular.  He has been under constant, unending attack from the enemy of our souls for the last five years.  Many times we have had the privilege of encouraging him to keep on keeping on 'till Jesus comes.  And many times he has blessed us beyond measure as we watch his steadfast determination to follow the Altogether Lovely One, no matter what.  Our visit ended in a time of prayer for each other.  And we parted ways more determined than ever to make our remaining days count for eternity.  

What a high honor it is to be salt and light out here in this corner of the world.  We wouldn't trade what we do for all the tea in China.  Nothing this world has to offer would ever entice us to do something else.  You can keep the world, just give me Jesus.

She went into labor around nine p.m.  A phone call to the doctor sent them off to the hospital to be checked out.  It was decided they would admit her in order to monitor things.  Our cook Francis came to work the following morning, and we joined him in prayer for a safe delivery of baby number three.  

Just five brief months ago a local pastor lost both his young wife and their baby during delivery.  This grief stricken young many is learning how to go on without the love of his life.  It's not easy.

And then last year there was another case where a woman was giving birth to their fourth child.  The baby arrived safely, but the mother died in childbirth.  And the father is left trying to figure out how to raise his newborn and the three other little kids all by himself.  It's not easy.

True stories all, it happens every day out here in Cameroon.  We never take life and health for granted.  

And so we prayed for a safe delivery with a healthy baby at the other end, along with a mother who  would survive the rigors of childbirth.  The hours dragged on.  He was in constant communication with his wife and his mother-in-law who was with her.  He also spent the day checking up on his five year old daughter and his turning three year old son back at the house.  An older cousin was looking after them.  And somehow he managed to get all his work done in a timely way here at Shiloh.  

By early afternoon there was no longer a response to his phone calls.  Not his wife's phone.  Not his mother-in-law's phone.  An hour later he tried phoning again to no avail.  This time he quietly told me what was happening. All we could do was lean on the Great I Am.  "Let her live.  Let the baby life." was the cry of my heart. 

He no sooner arrived back home at day's end than his phone rang.  It was the hospital.   "Come quick!" they said.  There were complications.  They were going to have to take the baby by cesarean section. The next hour passed in a blur.  He remembers being directed to a small waiting room outside a delivery room and being told that his wife was inside.  In agony of soul he kept crying out to God.  After what seemed like the better part of forever, the door opened and a nurse came rushing out.  She was sweaty and disheveled.  He  tried to ask her about his wife, but the nurse just rushed on past him.  Soon another nurse left the room.  She was very somber looking, and she too just ignored his questions.  Finally a third nurse opened the door with a big smile on her face.  He quickly accosted her, determined to get some information.  To his overwhelming relief, he learned that he was the proud father of another baby girl.  The crisis was past.  Baby and mother were both doing fine.

When he was finally reunited with his wife, he learned her side of the story.  After twenty long hours of labor, the doctor determined that this baby was simply too big. They began prepping for surgery.  And that is when they phoned the father, telling him to come quick.  But the baby had other plans.  She decided to come naturally before the operation could get underway.  And everyone lived happily ever after. 

Beyond all doubt the happiest of all is the baby's maternal grandmother.  The following morning, while looking after her daughter and newborn granddaughter in the hospital here in Yaounde, she received a call from her son in Daoula.  His wife had just delivered a healthy baby boy!  This is their third, also.  And Grandma now  has bragging rights about her eight grandchildren!  To say the least, she is one happy lady.

It all started about eleven months ago, give or take.  I began noticing that there was some kind of a hole on the back side of one of my teeth, right up by the gum line.  Coluldn't tell what it was.  But there was no pain and there was nothing to worry about.  Didn't even tell my favorite husband about it.  

The hole, space, opening, whatever it was just kept on being there.  And then one day, more than a month ago, I was eating something soft when something landed "clunk" on my tongue.  Thankfully I didn't swallow it, so was able to take it out of my mouth and get a good look at what was going on.  To my complete surprise, there was a forty some odd year old gold crown looking back at me.  Now it was time to talk to Jim!  

Since I still wasn't experiencing any discomfort of any kind, and since we had more month left than money, we figured it wouldn't hurt a thing to just live with things the way they were until later.  And today "later" finally rolled around.

We figured the best solution (i.e. the most economical) was to go to a nearby dental clinic.  After all, I only needed to have a tooth pulled.  No big deal.  Nothing to go to the really good, albeit high priced, dentist for.  

We were invited into a small, crowded room and asked to sit on a couple of stools.  A young lady in a white lab coat started asking why I was there.  I explained about the tooth that needed to be pulled.  She had me tilt my head back and open my mouth,  She began "discovering" one cavity after the other in my mouth until she reached the number ten.  She began writing up an order for all this dental work and noting the price of each thing.  Then she wrote out a prescription for two kinds of medication and wrote down the total for that.  Several times Jim tried to ask her what was going on, but she faithfully hushed him up.  She ended by giving us the grand total for all the dental work and the medication that I needed and told us to go pay at the finance window.  She told us to come back at 10:30 a.m. on Friday and she would begin by pulling the tooth.  Very late in the game it dawned on us that she might be the dentist.  We decided to only pay for the antibiotic she had ordered, and skip the other medication, since it was Tylenol which we have at home.  When we went to pick up the medication at the pharmacy window, the pharmacist was quite disturbed at how strong a dose of antibiotic the dentist had ordered.  He asked us to wait for him while he went to talk with her.  After some time he came back and reported that she was very upset with him for questioning her judgment.  She would not give him the time of day.  So he went over her head to the big boss of the place.  We continued waiting, feeling less and less confident in this "dentist" as the seconds dragged by.  In the end, the pharmacist said that the dentist produced a paper that supported the "protocol" she was using for the massive dose of medication for a tooth extraction.  We took the medication and went back home to Shiloh.

Remember that really good, albeit high priced dentist we talked about?  By now she was looking very good.  And who cares how much she charges to pull a tooth!  We gave her a call.  She prescribed the same antibiotic, but a more reasonable dose, and set up an appointment for the extraction for Thursday at noon.   And we will listen carefully to what she says if she starts talking about a mouthful of cavities.  After all she will take ex-rays to back up her  assertions.  

That 10:30 a.m. Friday appointment, we've cancelled it.

Twenty-nine children came to Shiloh today.  The first two rang the bell at 8:15 this morning.  The last four came just after noon.  They came bearing flowers (some of which had been stolen from off our wall, of course!) and wishing us "Happy New Year!"  It's their annual tradition.  They have high hopes of receiving something to eat.  Candy will do.  It's our custom to give them homemade cookies.  And we always give them a gospel tract.  First and foremost we want these precious children to come to know our Lord and Savior.  Been doing this for ten years now.  We've watched these kids grow up.  Some of them have grown too old to participate in this event anymore.  One girl who used to come in the early years got married a couple of months ago.  Time marches on.