"The good news is..."

Sometimes I like to start my sentences with this statement: "The good news is..." even when there is seemingly no good news at all. It forces positive thought and thanksgiving.

Last night we had a "PJ party" or "una piajama" as the Peruvians call it. GIRLS ONLY party: we sang karaoke and danced the night away. Singing and dancing interwoven with laughter, I saw the beautiful family of God in the wee hours of the morning as I listened to the voices of my sisters in Christ. Those of you who know me might know that singing is not exactly my forté...I get shy to open my mouth in a song. The good news is: my sisters in Christ could care less about my pitch or tone: forgetting talent level and language barriers, we are in sweet harmony because of our King.

This morning myself and my co-interns went sight seeing with one of our good Peruvian friends Emilia. We saw views that would prove my camera to be a fool in any attempt to capture them: volcanoes, rivers, skies, natives, clear springs, airs, heights, depths, distances. While my camera would never do these sights justice, today it didn't even have a chance...yep, I brought my camera case on our journey. CASE haha, void of any camera, however. The good news is: now I must go back to all these places to be reminded like I was today - how great is our God?

After our exciting travels this morning, we attended house church at Alfredo's house. Alfredo is a member of the church, and he is also my language teacher. We had never been to his house before, but when his dog, "Nacho" came running out the door, I knew we had found our meeting place today (he told me about Nacho in class previously). As Gerina and I left Alfredo's house, we began to make plans to get back to our house. We waited for a "combi," which is like a public bus, but then we started walking toward our house because it was getting dark. With the help of Parker's directions, we found ourselves in a part of town where we had never been. Not only were we lost, but when I asked for directions to la Calle San Juan de la Luna, none of the natives recognized this location??? We both began to get frustrated...eventually we found a taxi who thought he (might) know where our house was, and we got in. One of the richest parts of this experience so far has been adjusting to everything new. Seriously, nothing about life here is the same as my life I lived in the States just a few weeks ago. The good news is: my God is still the same. Pastures will change, but your Shepherd remains the same.

I could probably think of 1,000 pieces of good news...Can you think of any?

In our culture classes, Greg McKinzie has been walking us through figuring out what our gospel is. Is this gospel universal or does it change between cultures? Should the gospel change or only its presentation? It has been so interesting to dive into these concepts: not only foreign mission work, but even more so, the purpose of a believer: to share the good news!