ANGELA BLYCKER

This is the story of my husband's day yesterday and this is the story of mine: His:  Benjamin drove a team of fifteen college-aged students out to a cistern work site in a village about an hour away, stopping to pick up more supplies on the way.  He worked in cooperation with the local foreman in… Continue reading Something Beautiful: One Day in the Life of My Husband and of Me →

It was not the first time I had admired a certain vase made of burl wood sitting on table against a wall in my counselor-friend's living room.  Rounded yet uneven, it was sanded smooth to show the complexity of the grains and stood about 30 inches tall.  No human hand had carved it out from… Continue reading We Are Intended for Wholeness →

My husband came to bed quite late the other night. I was still reading, when I should have slept.  But I could hardly help myself.  The book, which I am still carefully reading with a pencil in hand, is a wondrous true tale.  It is a humble, elegantly written and engrossing work by a woman… Continue reading Be The One Who Stops By the Side of the Road →

"Mama, she is sitting alone on the floor in the corner of my room with her plate, eating her lunch there!" cried my then 7-year old son.  This was the second time we saw Tere, our once-a-week "maid" take her afternoon lunch break this way.  Not only that, but she shuffled when she walked and… Continue reading The Story of our House Helper: The Power of the Gospel is Greater than Power Distance →

In a culture where the name of Jesus is not unknown to anyone, the meaning of His death and life is strangely obscure. Which is why, in some ways, it is said that it is harder to bring others to the Gospel here than in a Muslim country. Why? Here, they are so close, yet so far away. So very far away. Here, Jesus stays on the cross. His suffering is still happening and the more one can share in that suffering the greater one can earn favor in heaven and heaven itself. Which is why, when working in many of the villages where the more "simple" dwell, there is little grumbling or complaining. They are conditioned to be content with their lot in life not out of gratitude, but more so out of the belief that if they suffer well and suffer much, divine favor will rest upon them.

Becoming a missionary in foreign soil has a way of making your roots looser—the tentacles to this world don’t attach so tenaciously. How can they when you find yourself in a place that is utterly unlike all of your cultural programing? Your anchor is no longer hooked between the rocks of familiarity, but in Who is there when all those rocks roll away -- Jesus.

After the birth of our now 14-year old Larsen, I experienced several years of secondary infertility.  Losing our first babe and then the miracle of our oldest son, we wondered if perhaps we would have only one biological child.  I remember those years.  Lars would lay his little hands on my tummy and pray, with… Continue reading A Scroll of Remembrance: Out of Secondary Infertility and Into A Gift →

When I was a girl, I often read biographies.  Helen Keller, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr. and Mother Teresa stand out the most and I can still remember the shape and smell of those library pages and where I was when the ideas shook my little spirit from side to side, waking me up… Continue reading I Have Finally Accepted That I Cannot Change the World: The Deep Work of Humbling a Missionary →

"When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.  "Where have you laid him?" He asked.  "Come and see, Lord," they replied.  Jesus wept.  Then the Jews said, "See how He loved him!"  - John 11:33-36  Like you, I live… Continue reading When It Seems Jesus Isn’t Doing Enough →

Last week while hiking, my husband and I saw a man in black speedo-like underwear and a straw hat walking through a cactus field, tapping with a slender stick the almost ripe napoles, three scraggly dogs marching in a line behind him. We hardly blinked. This morning I passed a stately white horse--the tallest horse I have… Continue reading The Strange Gift of Disillusionment →

You, my effervescent beautiful little girl, are appointed to become a woman one day.  I think on this often and there are some things I want you to know.  Really know.   They have been my revelations.  May they become your declarations.  You were first imagined in the mind of God and thrust into human… Continue reading A Letter to My Girl on Becoming a Woman →

After seven months of living here in Mexico, I finally hit culture shock.  Slammed right into it. Literally. Being a mother and a wife with the inner compulsion to tend to my family and walk them well through their phases of adjustment, I came in last place to the inevitable.  We know the textbook definition… Continue reading The Humility of Literally Hitting Culture Shock →

It is time I write down some of my observations of living in Mexico as my fresh eyes are becoming more accustomed to the culture around me.  So, this is for my own records and for many of my friends who have asked me what life is like here. For many of you with young… Continue reading Initial Descriptions of My New Country: Mexico →

The plight of women and children here in Mexico and specifically where we live in the Puebla/Cholula area breaks my heart. Yesterday alone I was approached in my vehicle by 3 women and 4 children (under about the age of 8). One woman was about 8 months pregnant with three beautiful brown snotty-nosed children trailing… Continue reading On Behalf of Women and Children, Evoke the Name of Jesus With Me! →

  Mothering is all about disciple-making.   Take that element out of the equation and what you have left is at its best is ooey-goey nurturing and perhaps the production of good citizens and a relatively healthy family environment where you've kissed boo-boos, kept them fed and clothed and ensured their academic potential and even… Continue reading Don’t Waste Your Motherhood →

Because these are the things I want to remember.  The little things that might actually be the big things... Me:  C'mon with me Doctor Anders to the hand doctor.  Brush your teeth, change the shirt you have now worn for three days in a row, tie your shoes, make sure you have underwear on and… Continue reading A Child Shall Lead Them. →

Last week, I did a bit of grocery shopping alone.   If you are/have ever been a mother of young children, you understand how delicious this is to linger in the car with your own uninterrupted thoughts and then emerge to be able to actually acknowledge the world around you.  It makes a parent feel rather… Continue reading Even In A Grocery Store: Join Me in Blessing A Dream →

On Monday I went to a local para-church ministry to meet with the special health program administer.  This is a service that helps non-insured, low income people not eligible for Medicaid (such as myself) get coverage for medical care such as surgeries.  For the several months I have had a ganglion cyst growing on my left wrist,… Continue reading Silly Little Cyst: Why Sometimes God Doesn’t Miraculously Heal →