I don’t drink coffee.

I mean, I’m not supposed to.

What kind of mother lets their kids drink coffee, you ask?

Ahem. Mine.

But only sometimes. I am not a coffee-maniac. Yet.

Note: Blame McDonald’s for the $1 coffee they had right before we came to Ecuador.

I don’t care if it’s hot or cold- anything from a steaming mocha to an iced latte is great.

Instant is fine, but if you want to smash those little coffee beans up, I’m cool with that too.

I am not picky when it comes to my parents’ coffee breaks.

There’s just one thing: It can’t be decaf or half-caf. Especially not half-caf.

Who wants to be able to sleep at night when you have books to read? Go caffeine! Unless, of course, you actually like caffeine-free coffee and soda. Hey, I won’t judge you. But that’s a whole other blog.

Doesn’t half-caf coffee scream: “Halfway! Lukewarm!” (I mean besides screaming: “Not the real deal! Go caffeine!”)

Lukewarm? It means moderately warm; tepid. Having or showing little ardor, zeal, or enthusiasm; indifferent.

There’s a Bible verse about that halfway stuff:

“So then, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of My mouth. -Revelation 3:16

My Dad’s Bible is pretty cool- in the margins it says spew is the same as spit or vomit.

Doesn’t it sound like God’s hammering them for not being totally for Him?

“No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. -Matthew 6:24

How about this? Doesn’t it sound like God’s hammering US for not being totally for Him?

Next time you get a coffee somewhere- whether it’s at McDonald’s or Starbucks- think about if you’re really completely and totally 100% for God.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

10:00 am

Abigail and Daddy are with the team in Puca-Chicta today.

I thought I was going to get to lay in bed all day, but then I remembered that I had to watch Elijah because Mom would be teaching Dad’s classes.

“Ha, ha Muggy! You are sleeping I am awake! Hahaha,” Elijah screamed directly into my ear canal.

“Uuuugghhh.” was all I could manage. See, it takes me a while to wake up.

So after Abigail and Daddy left, Mom went to the school.

And she came right back.

“Madeline,” she said, “You know how Ms. Cecelia has a little boy Elijah’s age?”

I rolled over to face her. “Mmmm…”

“Well, she thought I would be able to watch him today,”

“Yohastagoaschoo,” I mumbled. Takes my mouth a while to wake up, too.

“Yeah, okay, so I want you to keep an eye on him, for a little while, until her husband can pick him up,” she said.

I was now fully awake. “What?”

But she was already at school.

Ms. Cecelia was really nice, she said Andy had juice and cookies, and thank you for watching him.

So, here I am.

We played with toy cars, little Buzz Lightyears, our cow doll Moo-chella, puppets, blocks, magnets… in short, all of the toys.

We tried to communicate.

Then we ate Doritos.

We drank juice.

We read Brown Bear, Brown Bear. Twice.

We cried because we got in trouble for spitting juice out.

We are currently watching Chicken Little on a disc with 5 animated films in Spanish.

Still tying to communicate….

Blessings,

Madeline

I mean, if I wasn’t already over the whole “moving trauma”, I would be homesick anywhere, and all the time, not just after a week in Quito.

Right?

I stand totally corrected.

Yes, I still think about Ga, and Fl too, even though most of my time in the States was spent in the Georgia mountains.

But I mean where I belong.

And it’s scary, I know, I’m a little freaked out just thinking about it:

Misahualli is starting to be home for me.

‘Cause I was thinking about it, and I guess home is made up of familiar places, people, and culture… language is a big one that is kinda overlooked.

Don’t get me wrong, I have a long way to go until I am completely comfortable with the ways of Ecuador’s peoples, but I am much more at ease with the people in the jungle than the people in the USA.

Walking down the street and seeing your friends from school waving at you.

Going to the local store and being able to buy something while you talk to the owner’s daughter.

Having a ball kicked at your head because the kids in the street want you to join the soccer game.

Running through my yard/the jungle, and knowing which plants’ sharp thorns would rip my jeans in half.

So All May Know HIM,

Madeline Studebaker

We are in Quito for Christmas Break! Yay! House/pet sitting for the Coyle’s while they are in the States.

Had to get some food and groceries, so we went to the San Luis Shopping mall.

After dinner at the KFC in the food court, Abigail and I asked if we could go up the escalator.

The descending one.

And Mom said yes.

Didn’t expect her to let us, but I figured she thought it was safe enough for a 12 and 10 year old. It didn’t click that she doesn’t really let us do anything that we won’t learn from.

Let’s just say my shins are pretty banged up, and my face made contact with the ‘moving stairs’ more than once. Way more than once.

And afterward, we ran in to a security guard upstairs.

I started to freak out. I couldn’t breathe, my throat was swelling up, and my converses seemed to get smaller. I looked for a girl with brownish/reddish/blondish hair like mine so I could say “Look! The culprit who climbed up the down escalators!” if things got bad.

I smiled and tried to look smaller, tried to disappear. But all the officer said was something about the Play Zone at the other end of the mall.

That was probably the longest time I’ve ever held my breath. EVER.

Then we went to Crepes and Waffles, the ice cream parlor that we went to on my birthday.

After our banana splits (with little paper umbrellas stuck in them), tiramisu, toffee brownie, and clown-shaped ice cream, we headed outside.

It was pouring rain, and there was lightning and thunder.

“Put the umbrellas in your pocket,” Dad told Abigail. But the thunder was louder, and it almost deafened us.

“Huh?” Abigail asked.

“PUT THE UMBRELLAS IN YOUR POCKET!” he repeated.

A man with a (real) black umbrella was standing near us while my dad said this both times.

“I would if I could,” he said, shaking the umbrella off with aggravation.

And Dad didn’t realize until we told him, an hour later.

-Madeline Studebaker