Fields Family Furlough 2015 - Week 2

bu·oy

ˈbo͞oē,boi/

Noun - an anchored float serving as a navigation mark, to show reefs or other hazards, or for mooring.

We are here, in Brookings OR, on the Southern Oregon coast.  And when I say on the coast, I mean it.  Some friends have given us their vacation rental for a few days overlooking a cove in the Pacific.  The views are just spectacular.  Because we are in a cove, and because we are near a reef, there is a buoy sitting, oh 500 yds offshore, swaying and ringing in the surf day and night.  It is one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve heard.  A deep ringing bass of a bell, that warns boats that they are nearing a reef.  A warning of danger.  A navigation mark to say “you are here,” as buoy is marked on the navigational charts of these waters.  The thing about it is this:  you can’t always hear the buoy, at least not where we are.  The surf and the noises of the day combine to drown out this important navigational marker and warning during the day.  At night, ah, at night, all is calm in this little cove and the buoy just sings us to sleep and continues to serenade us when we wake in the night – reassuring us that it is on watch and that all is well.  This buoy is an excellent reminder of what makes furlough a good and necessary exercise for us a family and for me personally.  You see, at the hospital, the “surf” and the “noise of the day” so often drown out God’s warnings and God’s navigational markers that I  miss them.  I don’t hear them.  And so, just like the nighttime here on the coast, being away from Balfate allows me to hear God’s warnings and see God’s navigational markers much more clearly.  “You’re getting near a reef (danger), steer away!”  “Sit down and look at the map – you are here.”  Having time to stop and consider what things I need to steer away from and where “I am” with family, my responsibilities, relationships – it is valuable beyond words.  I’m sure that we all need times like this.  Furlough allows us to build them into our life as missionaries.

And so, as we consider week two of our eleven week 2015 furlough, I thought it might be good to take some time each week and expound on why we do furlough.  The buoy isn’t necessarily the most important reason, it is just the one that came up first in my mind last night as I woke up and listened to the bell that I hadn’t heard most of the day. By the way, my final analogy on this topic is this:  I hear the bell more now, on the second day because I heard the bell last night, when it was quiet, and I know what to listen for.  I pray that as I return to Honduras and to the crazy chaotic life that we lead there, that I’ll hear God’s warnings and navigational messages better when I get back because I’ll know better what to listen for. 

I’ll end with a quick report on week 2.  We left Northern Washington and headed down to the southern end of Washington (Vancouver) near Portland.  Week 1 ended with the incredible privilege of being included in the huge Johnson family reunion at Big Lake WA and being adopted for a weekend by this wonderful family.  Week 2 began with a trip to see my mom’s oldest sister, Aunt Sarah, in La Conner Washington and my cousins Billy and his wife Norma.  We really enjoyed our brief visit with them and stories of my mom, who passed away in ’95, and my grandparents.  The majority of week 2 was spent with another amazing couple, who are the sister and brother in law of our dear friends John and Penny Alden.  We toured Portland.  I met with several contacts regarding new funding sources for the hospital.  I worked one day. We had an amazing homemade Mexican dinner one night with our sister in law Patsy’s side of the family.   We had a wonderful Argentinian supper with a family that had been down to the hospital a couple of times.  We then moved down to Jacksonville OR for some quality time with our “family” from Jacksonville Presbyterian Church.  Dr Rich Owens and his lovely wife Stacey are our hosts for the end of week two and part of week three and they have provided yet another sanctuary home for us to stay in and just relax and enjoy ourselves.   More on week three and more reasons why we do furlough in a few more days.  May God grant you the peace to hear the buoys that he has set out for you in your life!   

Fields Family Furlough 2015 - week 1

Fields Family Furlough 2015

18 July, 2015 from Big Lake in Mt Vernon (Northern) WA

There is so much background here that I don't know if I want to take the time to tell or that anyone would find it interesting.  There was the really challenging part of finding a car in Kent WA and a person (a friend of a friend) who was willing to let us send him the money and then buy it for us and then meet us at SEA-TAC when we flew in, who turned out to be pretty quirky and made for lots of (now) funny stories.  There was the crazy stress of trying to buy three round tip tickets and one one-way ticket for Mariah and keep all of us on the same departure fight and even get seat assignments next to each other. 

There was so much emotion surrounding our departure.  This was Mariah leaving her home and heading off into the brave new world of adulthood.  There were the months before leaving in which we tried to let go of Mariah more and more, encouraging her to make more of her own decisions, and sometimes really regretting some of the decision that she made.   There was the hard task of leaving well for Mariah and of reconciling with some of her friends and working through the leaving process.  We are really proud of her in the way that she left and we’re just so thankful for way that he friends said goodbye.  It was deep and real and hard and messy and good.  And hard. 

Finally, for me, there was the stress of just trying to get so much done before leaving. I had one project that I was working on that blew up on me and took 3-4 times longer than it should have.  I was closer to “losing it” then than I have been in a very long time.  I was beyond frustrated and beyond tired.  I think, in many ways, we all left tired and stressed.  That’s what makes this first week such an incredible blessing. 

We've been in the Seattle area.  Staying with friends who’ve now become good friends, amazing friends, lifelong friends, I think.  This family has opened up their home (hard) and their lives (much harder) to us in a way that has just been so humble and for which we are so grateful.  They live in a beautiful place in this beautiful northwest.  The scenery and the weather have just been so perfect!  We have eaten so many berries that I think I’m going to turn red!  We’ve roasted hot dogs on the beach at Puget Sound; we've toured downtown Seattle and the famous Pike Fish market.  We've had the best coffee in the universe - not Starbucks - we've sat quietly, with coffee and blankets, and watched pine trees and hardwoods sway in the breeze.  The peace that this week has brought has been a gift from the Lord.  Sure there have been arguments and sure there has been tension – we a family with two teenagers with four big suitcases staying with friends and traveling for eleven weeks, the difficult stuff will be there.  But that is not what you remember, you remember the pines and the hardwoods and the blankets and the coffee and more than anything you remember the sense of families and homes opening up to you because in the Kingdom there are no strangers.  There is the fellowship of the Holy Spirit and in hospitality and Christianity go hand in hand. 

We've seen old friends and been the recipients of some of the most lavish hospitality.   We've enjoyed an authentic Argentinian Carne Asada (pretty much the best beef I will ever eat in my life) and a Wonderful day with Leon and Judy Greene, former LDL missionaries and our old neighbors on the hill in Honduras.  Leon and Judy hosted an evening at their house in which church friends and neighbors came over and we showed videos from the hospital and talked about the ministry of Loma de Luz, something we want to do a lot of on this trip.  We talked about the solar project and pray that some of the connections made will result in God’s kingdom being furthered in Honduras.  And now, the family that has been hosting us this week has brought up to the family patriarch’s home on the lake and allowed us to be part of their annual family reunion and what a reunion it is.  There are over a hundred gathered here on the side of the lake, water skiing, playing baseball, eating and visiting and getting caught up with each other.  It is a blessing beyond words to get to be a part of it.  To get to see this American dream being lived out right before our eyes.  It all started when a Swedish couple had the vision and guts to immigrate to America because they knew that they could make a better life here.  They were right and now hundreds of their descendants live a life of freedom and opportunity and safety because of what they did.  I’m so thankful to see and to be reminded, today, of all that is right about the USA , and to be in a place of peace and blessings.  It is rubbing off on us and I can feel the stress of the last few months beginning to peel off of me.  It is time to move forward now, into what the Lord has for us this next 10 weeks and some 3,500 miles.  He has great things in store for us as move towards Nashville and Mariah’s new home.  I’m so thankful to be on this journey.  Thank you Lord.  

My Eulogy for my Dad's Funeral

1. Read Daddy’s history from the class reunion.  (I’m sorry I don’t have this document anymore)

Many of you here knew my daddy during the early years of his life. I bet a memory of a time you had with Artie crossed your mind as I read his biography. In the past week I’ve heard some fun memories that some of you have: our cousin Ralphie, who is one of our Pall Bearers, can remember sliding down the banister at Horton’s Corner as a little boy and my dad saved him from getting a spanking for doing it; My Aunties can remember when my mom and dad were dating and dad would announce himself by spinning the tires of his 52 Chevy on the dirt road when he’d pick my mom up for a date; My Auntie Gloria was a little girl back then and she would run around the house yelling, “El Artie esta aqui!” but it sounded like “Lardy esta aqui!”  Others know my daddy from the V, or Jordi’s, or Brighton Bar. He sat on a bar stool next to you and had a beer or two with you. And of course our family remembers Uncle Artie with a Coors Beer in his hand sitting at the kitchen table in their homes on Christmas day, at family reunions, or when we dropped by to have dinner and a cold one.

Throughout his life my daddy liked to have a good time. He loved to be the center of attention and make people laugh. He would dance, sing, tell jokes, argue, whatever it took. He was often the life of the party. I remember one time when we were at a wedding at the Dome at the Adams County Fairgrounds. He was dancing up a storm with a beer in his hand. When my daddy had had enough beers her would do this flip while he was dancing. (Note - I saw a lot of people's faces light up at the Rosary at their own memory of my dad doing this.) Sure enough he went and did the flip with the cup of beer in his hand and do you know he didn’t spill a drop of beer! Artie the Great – defies gravity! One summer, when I was a teenager, my mom and dad, and I went to The State Fair in Pueblo with Hal and Charlie from KHOW radio. It was a super hot day. We had gone to cool down in one of those tents where there is live music. This particular tent happened to have a live Mariachi band. They began playing one of my dad’s favorite songs. He had been drinking beer most of the day and so when he heard the music start he stood up and with a strut walked up onto the stage, took the sombrero off of one of the musician’s heads, walked up to the mic and began singing…Hay, hay, hay…canto y no llores. Of course everyone loved him, they sang along with him, laughed at him and gave him a standing ovation! As a teen,  I was appalled, my mom informs me that I stood outside the tent and cried from embarrassment. Now as an adult I treasure the memories of my daddy’s antics. And quite frankly wish I would have had the wisdom to join him in them. I’d get up there and sing, “I’m going to Kansas City, Kansas City Here I come!”

Since his youth Artie wanted to be the boss, weather it was at work or at home. I don’t know how many thousands of times I heard him say, “Because I’m the jefe!” This fun-loving man was not always the easiest to love. He had a hard exterior that he didn’t let down very often and he didn’t know how to show love very well. Here’s an example: Please raise your hand if my dad ever called you Ugly-Dugly or Stupey-Dupey.  It took many years for me to understand that these terrible nick-names that he would call me were his way of saying that he loved me; I want each of you who raised your hand to know that, when he called you Ugly-Dugly or Stupey-Dupey, it meant that he cared about you.

Many of us here have been raised by fathers who didn’t show that they loved us very well…and it hurt. In fact, throughout my teenage years and early adulthood I both hated and loved my dad. But, I knew about a part of my his heart that not very many were acquainted with: the soft side. At home, when a movie or story moved him, he would shed a tear or two. When we were together watching a movie or listening to a story on the radio, and I would start crying he couldn’t help himself – he would openly cry too. When I couldn’t control by tears at my cousin, Eddie Albert’s, funeral he held me and cried too.  I absolutely loved laughing with my daddy, but the times we cried together were beautiful.

As an adult I have loved my daddy more than I thought possible. It wasn’t because he changed his ways, in fact when I would ask him, “Daddy, why do you do that?” He’d tell me, “That’s the way I am, I’m not gunna change.” He didn’t apologize to me one day nor did he suddenly start saying “I love you hita,” whenever we talked.   It was nothing that he did.  I am able to love him because of what Deacon Antonio spoke of tonight, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. You see, I am just as much of a sinner as my daddy ever was. I have MY own issues that affect MY family. It was at the foot of the cross where I realized that we are all equal. All of us have sinned and none of us deserve to be forgiven. God’s amazing grace is poured out for each of us. Jesus suffered and died a horrific death so that he could bear all of our sins, including my dad’s, and wash us white as snow with his precious blood. If God loved ME so much that he would forgive ME, how could I  not forgive my daddy?  In forgiveness there is freedom to love.

Our family is so blessed to see each of you here tonight. It is a testimony to the laughter shared, the songs sung, the beers tapped and the “one-for-the road” lifestyle of Artie Sanchez. He truly did live life like one of his favorite songs speaks of: “I did it my way.”  Thank you all for being here and the love that you have given us tonight. My daughter and I would like to close this service with one of our favorite worship songs. It is a song of hope and adoration for the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The words will be displayed for you to follow along. If you know the song please worship with us. Thank you again for coming tonight.