The biggest adventure yet: living in a house 100% unfinished. There are no rooms that are done. The floors are still being laid, the carpenters are building a closet in my bedroom, and all of the walls need to be repainted (for a slim few examples). If you ask me, it doesn't look all the different than it did in December. I've found a room that won't be touched for a while (low priority) and put up my tent. The dogs and I are holed away trying to maintain a sense of humor and a touch of sanity. We are glad to be here I think, but I can't and wouldn't want to go into the details of what a disaster and a challenge this is. What do I do with all my complaints and frustrations?

A few days ago a Peruvian airplane had to make an emergency landing in Lima because a passenger was trying to force his way into the pilot's cabin. Turns out all he was going to do was read his manifesto over the sound system. I think I could write a manifesto myself, and I can empathize with his crazed obsession to have it heard and understood. I want to tell someone how totally ridiculous and horrible this is, but at the same time, I know complaining won't solve the problem. Deep down, I think I'm entitled to having things done the way I want (I'm tempted to say “in a reasonable way”), but the truth is that entitlement is a farce. If anything, all I'm really entitled to today is a little oxygen in my lungs.

When things are going this way at home (well I wouldn't quite say they were ever going exactly “this way,” but you know...) I used to treat myself to something special-- a long bath, a movie, baking a rich dessert. Where can I find a little space of enjoyment this afternoon? Beth Moore. My puppies, I suppose. Maybe we ought to take them down to the beach this afternoon.

Pray for us. This week won't be easy.

Cesar just called to let us know that the truck that was coming to move all of our stuff to Puerto this morning is now coming Monday morning. Oh dear. I guess I'd better put the sheets back on the bed.

There's a little part in me that's tempted to throw a fit at this system that feels completely nuts to me, but after 5 months that part is (fortunately) shrinking day by day. My first thought was "WHAT?!?!?" My second thought, the one I vocalized, was "Yes, Lord." We'll take this as a blessing. There were a few little problems with moving in today after all, like the fact that they hadn't finished laying the parquet flooring, the closet system wasn't installed, we don't have a fridge yet, etc.

I think the housekeeper here at the SAM Guest House is a little miffed at the idea of having the yard overtaken with furniture for two more days. She has Tim on the phone right now calling other moving people. So maybe we'll have another update soon.

PS- That didn't take long. Tim found someone willing to come at 2 today. I'm not 100% certain this is actually going to happen, but I'm chuckling anyway. Another facet of the Peruvian "system": you can hire a moving van the day you want to move.

It's 8:09 and a powerful, beautiful morning already. We are moving today, and I woke up jittery with anxiety and excitement. After a nice hot shower, I went and sat outside on the pink velvet couch to do my Bible study. Mom and I are working our way through Beth Moore's Beloved Disciple. More on that later I bet. The puppies snuggled up beside me- one on each side- and I dove in.

This morning I studied Acts 3, where Peter and John heal a crippled man at the gate called Beautiful. Beth brought out some very meaningful observations that pierced me this morning.

1. Peter and John were on their way to the Temple that morning. Despite the fact that they were fresh followers of Jesus, it wouldn't have crossed their minds to drop their precious Jewish heritage. So often I want to "move past" my past, but while many things have changed (glory to God!), He gave me each one of those experiences for a reason. I want to be willing to embrace the experiences and lessons of my past as I move to minister in Puerto Supe.
2. Peter and John were not so busy getting to the Temple that they missed the beggar at the gate. There are so many beggars here, and pretty much everyone in Puerto Supe is in need. I want to be the kind of woman who sees each one and knows that her agenda is loving people, not advancing on the to-do list.
3. Peter and John gave what they had. I love the power in Acts 3:6-- "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk!" There are a lot of things I'm not and many more things I don't have to give. It's about time I give up trying to be other people and minister in the gifts the Holy Spirit is manifesting in me.

After I finished my reading, all I could do was sit on that sofa and sing, eyes wide open looking up at a yucky cloudy sky. I know that the Lord was pleased with my song, even if no one else would have liked it very much.

When I came back inside, Tim was looking up Hillsong in Spanish on the computer. Last year, our friend Sarah D came back from Australia with this CD in English and we fell in love with it. We found out a few days ago that the same songs were released in Spanish, I think with the same singers actually. Tim found on YouTube a video of "Mighty to Save" in concert dubbed with the Spanish track. Before long, I was in tears. I can't really explain what happened, but somehow, I saw all these people genuinely (it seemed) happy in Jesus, offering Him their all, and I was touched. Beyond that, I was moved to hear that worship in Spanish. It evoked in me such desire to see that kind of worship break free in Puerto Supe, in Peru, in Latin America, all over the globe. What could be more precious than people caught up in powerful worship of God?

It brings me back to the breathtaking picture of heaven in Revelation 7:9-10-- "After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice: 'Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.'"

Oh Lord, you are worth every bit of our praise, our possessions, our lives. I can't wait to see that one day- people of all colors and cultures and languages captured by your beauty and telling you so. Would you show me here on earth a little glimpse of what that might look like? Would you use our offering to bring a few more people into that picture? Would you touch Puerto Supe and send an earthquake of life through it? Would you pour out living water on a dry desert? Show off your power and love, Lord, and let me be there to see it! You're all I want and need, my breath, my food, my life. Thank you for your great love and how it has taken my breath away.

• 1 beautiful pink velvet couch
• 1 dining room table and its 12 chairs
• 1 matching buffet
• 2 kitchen pieces (top/bottom cabinets with tile surface between)
• 1 sofa for the patio (no rain means you can put upholstered furniture outside)
• 2 armchairs
• 1 small patio table
• 2 bedside tables
• 2 end tables
• 1 coffee table
• 1 trunk
• 2 desks
• 1 extra wide bookshelf

In the process of unloading all this stuff from 4 trucks into the yard, Ellie almost died. We couldn't find her anywhere until she started whimpering and we noticed a little tail sticking out from under the new couch. Apparently she slipped under there when we lifted it up to take off the plastic. Good thing it had some space underneath. Oops.

We are still down a bed (queens are virtually impossible to find), which we hope to have commissioned in Puerto Supe. Until then, we'll be sleeping on our mattress on a rug. The only new thing we have so far (wrapped in the photo) is a couch and two big square footrest things that go with it. Tim is out right now picking up a refrigerator, stove, boxes for the loads of non-furniture stuff we have bought, and three more rugs.

It's been a busy day but a good one. Our home is paramount in our eyes, both for our own sanity and for the kind of ministry God has put on our hearts, a ministry of hospitality and invitation. We're so happy with the things we were able to buy and really believe that they will be a blessing to us and to others. Today I feel deeply grateful for all the people sacrificing financially so that we can have these things and be here to use them. I hope you know how dear you are to our hearts.

Have you ever seen something so pituca (posh) as a toy poodle on a pink velvet couch? Plus she got a new haircut by accident at the groomers and she looks far more poodle-y than we ever intended. Oh well. It's hair; it grows.
Ellie is growing very quickly, although she is still smaller than Taza. She loves to sleep, particularly in our arms. She is adjusting far more quickly than we ever hoped. After 1 week, she seems happy to sleep and play outside, rough it up with Taza, explore the garden, etc. We had about 1 day of whining.
Here is Taza's portrait with her look.

We estimate we have no more than two weeks of photos with Ellie being smaller than Taza.

The construction people are working overtime at our house and we hope it will be more or less done this weekend. Regardless, we are moving in Saturday morning!

I realized this morning that I never wrote about our visit a week and a half ago. Besides being short (24 hrs or so), it was fairly intense. Ten minutes into one conversation with a girl I have met once before, Vanessa started asking me for money for physical therapy. She is in a wheel chair and proceeded to explain to me a little of her history. I didn't understand all of what she said (loud music, soft voice, 2nd language) but picked up that she walked until she was 14 (now 19) and that her disability had something to do with hemorraging and TB at that age.

Round two was the next morning when Bea, another woman I know, asked if she could be my housekeeper. She was respectful and gentle in asking, but I know that she is desperate for some way to support her family. There will be many others interested in the job, in any job really, anything for a consistent paycheck. That paycheck will make a tremendous difference for one family over the next two years. I hope also that our relationship with that family will make a difference for them. How do I even begin to consider which person is the most needy or deserving or qualified or what the criteria would be? And what does that mean for the people I don't choose, who really have no local possibilities for a steady job?

What will my relationships look like in Puerto Supe if they are all based around people hoping I'll give them money? How will I ever have a friend? I guess it is obvious by now that I'm interested in helping in Puerto Supe, but I'd like to help in ways that stretch further than hand outs. I realized that evening that I need to come up with an answer to the money question pronto. As it turns out, there is one. A group from the Puerto Supe Christian Community (our churchish thing) meets weekly to choose individuals or families to support in specific ways. We intend to donate a monthly sum for them to distribute as they see fit. Is it a cop out? I'm not sure. Right now it feels like the right way to help.

Issue #2: health concerns. We found out the next morning that in addition to her TB, Vanessa has brain damage from a prolonged high fever when she was 6. All of the sudden her demeanor and personality made a lot more sense. The same night, Bea told me that her 2 year old was in the hospital and was very sick. He had a fever of 103.5 F for several days, but the hospital didn't really do anything about it. It seems like there is potential for another brain damage case here. The doctors told Bea that Jose had a virus in his blood. Is that even possible? Grace says the doctors don't think that people will understand, so they make things up to give as explanations. Furthermore, they gave her an expired antibiotic for him, and when she brought it back the next day, told her it was her fault for not checking when she got it.

The whole thing makes me angry in a way that I think could be just. The world should not be like this. Children shouldn't be getting brain damage from fevers, because people should be educated and willing to care for them. Doctors shouldn't be lying to patients and parents. The next question, of course, is what can I do about it? I don't have a clue. For now, I'll do what I know to do, love and pray for people one at a time.

It's been a little over a year now since I started "blogging" and four and a half months since I started updating on a mostly daily basis. I don't remember anymore why I started doing this, but it has in that time become a gift to me, a way to record, digest, ask questions, celebrate, mourn. I don't think I will ever write for a purpose beyond my own pleasure, but what pleasure I have found here....

• This morning (in Spanish) I met this guy at the SAM Guest House where we are staying. When I returned this afternoon, he asked me, "Are you Hannah?" (remember that since I met him in Spanish, I was Ani in the morning). He was looking up something on the internet during the day and came across the blog.

• A Peruvian (I think) stranger commented on a recent post about Lima, telling me to be very cautious here since it's so dangerous and that Miraflores is a nice safe part of town. Those things are probably both true, but they are also total proof in a hilarious way of everything I've been saying about how cautious (paranoid?) Peruvians are. I love it!

• I recently got an email from an Australian stranger with some good reading suggestions.

• People from over 72 countries and every state but Rhode Island have visited this blog. I say "over 72" because there are quite a few countries in the "neocounter" on the right side of the blog that aren't mentioned in the Google Analytics list. So I'm guessing Google isn't counting quite right. I pasted the map above from Google. Green and darker means someone from that country has landed on the blog at least once.

• People get here the strangest ways. I have found links to my own blog on websites of people I don't know (and people I do know). 8 times people have gotten to my blog by searching "hannah murray naked." You will not find any nude photos on here, and I am not a British actress. Sorry. 3 people have gotten here looking for the Anne of Green Gables quote, "My life is a perfect graveyard of burried hopes...."

• All said and done, there have been 9,071 hits since July 9, 2007 (and some more between March and July). Although I bet at least half have been me, my parents, and a handful of my closest friends.

Let me just say for the record that if I singled you out, I didn't mean it to embarrass you. Beyond loving writing for my own sake, I want to write as a means to encourage others to live and live to the full. I'd like to think that my "international fame" is touching that goal, so I'm glad for all my readers who happen to be strangers!

Today I had the lovely opportunity of traveling to Puerto Supe solo to see how our house is coming along, buy paint and make sure the basics would be ready by the time we arrive (hopefully Saturday). This was my first time going to and from Puerto in one day and it was a bit exhausting. I had an hour cab ride to the terminal and then a 4 hour bus ride to Puerto only to return a few hours later.

One tough aspect in Peru is being certain that you're being understood. It seems people love to use the word claro (of course) even when they have no clue what you said. You also find your self asking the same questions and getting responses such as of course and don't worry (no te preocupes) Example: question - Which color of paint would be better? answer - Of course, don't worry)

I was able to experience the result of such communication today. Last time Hannah and I were in Puerto, we asked the workers to remove the broken tile in a patio/hallway/kitchen area and to replace it with colored cement. When I arrived today I found that there was some obvious misconfusion. When Hannah told them to pull up all of the tile and put the concrete on top; they interpretted it not as pull up all of the tile, but rather the entire slab as well. So the workers spent the last week tearing apart about 150 sqft of concrete (about a fourth of which they had replaced recently) with chisels and sledgehammers only to pour new concrete slab. Lesson learned. NEVER leave any point of confusion when explaining home repairs.

Although I ran into many similar issues and points of confusion. I even made sure to write the names of the paint colors on the walls to help eliminate confusion there. Hopefully everything is arranged so that at the bare minimum, our main living space will be ready for us, but hey you never know.

The Bible says that God is "the one who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will" (Ephesians 1:11). It says also that his will is "good, pleasing and perfect" (Romans 12:2). Since I believe the Bible is true, those are important facts for me. Especially today.

Could it be true that he works everything out? Not necessarily in the way I expect or hope for, but in a way that is good, even perfect? Today I had a ridiculously over-the-top reaction to something that happened to me, and since Tim was in Puerto Supe all day, he wasn't here to take care of me. I remembered those verses and all of the sudden it didn't seem like an unfair coincidence that Tim was gone. I felt a peace that God knew and planned those events to coincide. And I knew that he would work it out the way he wanted, which isn't necessarily the easy way but must be the best way.

I know I often use Tim (and other things) as anethetics to my pain. I don't want to confront the way I'm feeling so I run from my emotions to something else. Today I didn't really have that option- no home to hide in, no husband to hide behind, no friends in this city of 10 million to go to for a hug or distraction. So I'm left feeling the hurt and searching my heart with the Lord. Surely he doesn't want me to stay forever with all these insecurities and twisted ways of understanding the world around me. He wants to draw out my impurities and wipe them away. I think he did a little of that today, and I'm grateful.

Last night around 7 we headed out to Sodimac (Home Depot) to pick up another slew of necessities. We filled up two carts with cheap ugly light fixtures, 25 light bulbs, an ironing board, blinds, etc. As we headed out the door at 9:20, we realized we were ferociously hungry from all our shopping (and because we hadn't eaten dinner yet). Tim suggested we roll our carts right into the TGI Friday's next door, so we gave it a shot. Success. The hostess guarded our things as we ate our first American meal since arriving in Peru November 1. The highlight was onion rings.

We spent most of the evening laughing, a common theme in the last week in particular and the last 5 months in general. We rolled out of Friday's with our two shopping carts and a balloon and patted ourselves on the back for making it through another of these brutal shopping trips. It's either laugh or cry. I feel like we've come to that point so many times since we've been here. We keep coming back to two reminders. One is Kyle Y's advice that the most essential ingredient to missionary success is a sense of humor. The other is the example of Buddy the Elf (played by Will Ferrell in Tim's favorite movie Elf). If you set out to enjoy everything and everyone you encounter in a big new foreign city, life is a lot more interesting and most situations bearable.

We visited a great vet today who gave us good news about both dogs. She thinks Taza is not anemic and that Ellie will be just fine despite the fact that she was ripped from her mother's breast at 3 weeks. Ellie did get a foam bath and some deworming medication, which is good since we saw some pretty gross creatures in her equally gross diarrhea today.

Ellie is spending much of her day whining, sometimes just because she is tired but can't go to sleep on her own very well. She needs a good armpit to snuggle up under. She is now 2 kilos (and a little underweight), which Taza just reached a week or two ago. She's not nearly as cute or sweet as Taza, but we'll give her the benefit of the doubt that she'll grow on us. In the meantime, Taza has not been dethroned.

We also bought a couch today and have a plan to get out of here on Saturday if our house is ready. We're pretty sure we don't want to move until then. As you can imagine, this transition will be stressful enough without sharing it with a construction crew for a few days (or a week? you never know). Our friend David is coming back into town (Lima) tomorrow, and we're looking forward to having him around in the evenings.

PS The 1 yr old Great Dane at the vet was scared of Ellie/Gollum.