What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing could possibly go wrong here.

The last two weeks have been fraught with technical challenges for TMFKATB and our email exchanges. One, they are not turning up until later in the afternoon and two, it looks like he is not going some of our responses to his letters, nor us his. So that's not been cool. As a result, I was on a train into the City this past Monday by the time his email started rolling in. As I've noted before, the Blogger app and I are not friends so I wasn't going to try and post while I was in the City. Hence, the delay in getting this week's letter posted.

His letter was short on detail, which was kind of frustrating, given the current technical brouhaha we're encountering. That said, it was evident that he's really enjoying the leadership opportunity he's been given. He and his companion are working hard and he's positive in his attitude. They had to give a family they'd just started teaching to another set of missionaries when they discovered that the family lived outside their assigned teaching area. That can be a real drag but rules are rules. His take on it was this: 'Sometimes we reap and sometimes we sow!'

One of the pictures he included, which is the one that leads this post, made me laugh. What could possibly go wrong here? I think it's safe to say that neither is a skilled barber and yet here is TMFKATB getting a free haircut. From the sequence of the other pictures, it's really hard to tell if there was a before and after. But again, what could go wrong?

I know what could go wrong. I lived it. When a Peruvian lady tells you she went to finest school of barbering in all of Lima and she can cut your hair, just say no. Learn from my mistakes. Because I said yes to that offer thirty years ago when I was a missionary. Red Flag #1 - the fact that she cut my hair in the courtyard of her apartment complex on Miami Beach. Red Flag #2 - the fact that she didn't use a single mirror. Red Flag #3 - the fact that she uttered a Spanish curse word that I couldn't understand about midway through the hack cut. Red Flag #4 - the fact that she left the top completely untouched, leaving me with a modified 'Flock of Seagulls Go On A Mission' (it was 1986, people) look. Upon return to our apartment, I went to wash my hair and discovered why she'd left it long. It was to cover the multiple bald spots she'd left on the side of my head. Seriously. Um...thanks. My only recourse was to shave my head (professionally!) into a crew cut. No good came from it. None. You've seen how I look with a hat on. It's exponentially worse with a crew cut.

Let's not speak of it again.

A late start

An effective reminder that it's colder for
him in the Zion Curtain than here in the 'Stan

TMFKATB has been really good about his weekly letters being sent at the same time every week. It's rare that he deviates and when he does, it's weird and it seems to send our schedules into disarray. Today's letter was one of those that arrived quite a bit later than normal. Fortunately, the reason for his tardiness was simple (in his own words, 'lazy') and not concerning, like being hospitalized when he was in Mexico.

Not only was his letter a little later than normal, it was pretty brief. He'd had a busy week and saw blessings come into the lives of some of the people they've been working with, so that made a busy week even better. There's some buzz in his mission about a worldwide meeting for all missionaries on the 20th of this month as everyone is trying to figure what it might be about.

He's managing the cold and snow. Funny that our climates have switched completely. We have yet to experience any real snow to speak of and he's seen more in the last month than he'd like to see in a year's time. Through it all, though, he's got a positive attitude, still happy to be learning and growing. It's a good perspective to have as the new year dawns.

Of Colonoscopies a la Mexicana

Reunited with some of his favorites

Not sure where to start with what TMFKATB had to say to do. His letter arrived earlier than last week, closer to what it's normally been. He sent a note to me first though and it was a bit of a butt barn burner since it contained a delightful, and by that I mean gross, description of his Mexican colonoscopy. He was keen to know if I'd had one yet and I think he walked away more than a little proud that he got the First Timer's Trophy on that one. I've had other medical indignities thrust upon me, so I'm not worried about losing out to him too much. Without disclosing too much that would get me a HIPPA violation, it looks like he'll be having some more 'fun' within the confines of the Mexican medical system.

The good news is that he's been reassigned to a new area with a missionary who's been out a little longer than him. His companion is Mexican national, so once again TMFKATB will have a tremendous opportunity to enhance his language skills and learn more about the culture of this people that he has come to love so much. They are working hard and seem to be having a good time together. TMFKATB's attitude continues to blow me away. He's finding the positive in everything, even his jacked up intestinal fiesta.

As I read his letter, I wished he'd gotten a bit more of my cast-iron stomach. Why I can essentially eat roadkill in the streets of Kolkata or some unknown 'meat' out of a burning oil drum in Shanghai and not bat an eye and he's struggling in southern Mexico is beyond me. I'd trade places with him in a second if I could though. That said, as we read his letters, his sense of humor radiates and his positive attitude brings us a sense of peace. We were promised he would be watched over as he served. It's a promise in which we have enormous faith. Sometimes this feels like a bigger challenge for us than him. In some ways, it probably is. This mission experience is a tremendous time of learning for the young man or woman who chooses to serve. Turns out, the parents learn a whole lot as well. I need to be a better student and trust a bit more in the Teacher right now. I'm just glad that kid of mine in southern Mexico is such a great example.

It's good to be reminded that a Dad can always be learning from his children.

Learning so much

In spite of apparently hosting 'Alien' in his gut, he's still eating well

This week's letter from TMFKATB was a bit of a breathtaker for the stunningly patient and mighty fine SML and me. He got online much later than has been his pattern, which was a bit of a clue for us. While on our respective devices, we read the letter together and we both drew in a couple of deep breaths as we got into the meat of his weekly missive.

In short, his new companion who had only been in the mission field less than two weeks, opted, quite abruptly, to go home. It was a bit of a punch in the gut as TMFKATB felt like things were going quite well. Suffice to say, it made for a crazy week and our boy is now in the mission office for a few days, awaiting a new assignment. Not only was there this challenging situation, apparently 'Alien' which is uncomfortably ensconced somewhere in his gut, is making life unpleasant. All this served to take our breath away.

The part that is simply incredible is the wisdom he is showing as a nineteen year old. It is far beyond his years. He is looking at these up-and-down moments as learning experiences. He said, "I have seen so many trials with companions, health and a whole bunch of stuff but it has made me grow so much. All is well. I'm learning so much." He talked openly about placing his trust in God and how, in spite of it all, happy he is. That happy came through and gave us a great deal of comfort as we read his letter time and again.

It's not an easy thing to find the happy, or the good, in challenging situations. My boy reminded me today how soothing the balm of goodness is when you find it. He has found it in dedicating himself to the service of others right now and is willing to look beyond some really tough things to find the good. It seems to me that the lesson is that there is always something good to be had, or learned, in even the most challenging of situations. He says he's learning so much. He's teaching too. I'm glad I learned something today too.

Still a player

Still a player (mural on the wall of a local gym)

Since I'm back home and not holed up in a conference room, I'm back on schedule, posting updates from TMFKATB in a more timely manner. Today's letter was what has become typical of our missionary son - positive attitude and some slyly funny stuff.

He was most excited to report that he's got a "super humble" and "super happy" new companion. For a brand-new missionary, he's older (24, which is halfway to dead by 19 year old standards). He wants to work and it looks like they are getting along well. He lamented some of the challenges of constantly being rejected by the people and figuring out how to grow from the rejection. In the middle of that, he tossed in a non-sequitir about how he had recently cut his own hair. For a split second, I couldn't help but wonder if that wasn't the source of some of the rejection. He talked about some difficulties with a Blister sister missionary. It's challenges like that that are helping him to grow and how to try and get people to make the best of trying circumstances.

He mentioned that the pills he got from the doctor to quell his gastrointestinal drama may not be doing the trick. He deftly avoided any further questions about that but we're not freaking out. He's never been one to not let us know when he's really sick. Once again, we were at peace as we went back and forth with him too. He's got this.

Like the insane mural of NBA players on the side of a gym in southernmost Mexico, he's still a player.

"Take it easy!"

This wasn't too far off the mark

When CAL and I were in Dallas on our own version of a BYU-I Parents Weekend reboot last week, I posted the following brief screed on the Twitters and the Facebooks:

Ill-fitting tuxes and gowns. Overpowering stench of Axe in the air. Vocal warmups in the hallway. Glee club coach/prison matron with typical big Texas hair raking the kids over the coals for being late. Love it when the hotel you are in is taken over...

Indeed, our hotel had been taken over by a very large high school choir/glee club that was participating in some kind of vocal choral deathmatch. We'd gotten to the hotel the night before quite late and I was crestfallen when I saw the two large buses in front of the hotel. I've traveled far too long to know that buses at a hotel are never a good thing. It's either a group of elderly tourists who will make eating in the hotel an unmitigated nightmare or it's some kind of high school group and no good has ever come of that. Ever. My fears were confirmed when we entered the lobby to the last dregs of the kids checking in. They all carried the enormous pillows that are now the calling card of the traveling American teen and there was all manner of yelling about who had the keys. As we checked in, I gave the somewhat beleagured agent a look that simply pled, 'By all that's holy, do no put us on their floors.' My request was mercifully heeded.

The following morning, as we went down to breakfast, we met the full brunt of the choral bruhaha. Hence the tweet and Facebook page that you saw above. We did not meet the Matron until after breakfast. I'm telling you right now, had I been able to get a picture of her, what you see above would have been her, except she was sporting a bad spiky haircut instead of the "Alice the Brady Maid" wash and set you see above. As we walked into the elevator landing to go back to our room, there she was. The Glee Club Coach/Prison Matron. Shrouded from head to toe in black, she was facing the elevator doors. The toe of her shoe tapped furiously to the beat of the unheard death march that was playing in her head. In her left hand, she held her Smartphone up, time displayed, also facing the elevator doors. You knew this was going to be ugly. As I watched the elevator descend, ticking off the floors to the lobby, I couldn't help but feel badly for the unsuspecting teen songsters. They were about to feel the brunt of a clearly insufficiently caffeinated glee club harridan.

The doors opened and so did her tightly wound fury. Four kids walked off into an onslaught more appropriate for the battlefield in Fallujah than a hotel lobby in Las Colinas, Texas. "Do you know what time it is?" she bellowed. I think one of the boys cowered so hard that I think he went from an alto to a soprano right then and there. "We are late. L-A-T-E! Now get on that BUS!" she hissed. Suffice to say, she was displeased. Glancing over my shoulder into the lobby, which through the haze of the Axe stench, I could see there were still a slew of kids not on that bus, and I thought to myself, 'Lady, take it easy.'

I get it. There are schedules to be kept. There are people to be seen and places to go. Any one who has worked with teen-agers, especially those who teach them (and they deserve to be sainted), knows it can be a bit like herding cats. Sure, some times you need to throw down the hammer. That said, the Matron needed to just take it easy. If only The Boy, or TMFKATB, had been there to say that to her in his obscure accent that he would use on me when saying it. You'll be shocked to know that from time to time, I would allegedly get a little high-strung with my children. Leave it to The Boy to would diffuse it by saying, in that stupid accent, 'Hey, take it easy.' Those little words rattle around in my head even today and I find myself hearing it when I'm in a stressful situation. It's one of those gut checks on how I should react.

'Take it easy.' Try it. It changes things for the better.

Drive By Communication

Yep, this pretty much sums it up

TMFKATB surprised us by checking in about an hour earlier than normal today. I got a quick head's up email first, saying things were crazy this week with people celebrating Semana Santa (Holy Week) and that he'd have more to tell in his big letter. He then quickly added that he was on his way to Tuxtla to see a gastroenterologist because his, and there is no delicate way to put this, runs are working his last nerve. Lovely.

So in spite of that, his weekly letter was upbeat. His attitude gives me hope. Anyway, he continues to see the value of hard work and the rewards it brings. He was amazed by all the shenanigans in the street related to Holy Week, including some cross dressing and folks dolled up as Satan. Now to me, that was, and is, pretty much any given day of the week on South Beach, but it was a little jarring in his Mexican town. It's all a part of his learning and experience. He then briefly detailed the gastrointestinal fiesta that's led him see a doctor in Tuxtla Gutierrez, but I'll spare you all of that. He wrapped it up saying he had time for questions before he caught his bus and that he had a slew of pictures to send. And we heard no more. Like that, he was gone.

No more responses. No more pics. Nada. It dawned on me that we had just gotten a drive by communication from him. So now we wait. Here's hoping we have a more robust exchange next week.