Thank you so, so much for praying for Ava. If you hadn’t heard, she had a trampoline accident Sunday night. Had a baby tooth knocked out, and two of her front teeth were pushed back and up into the roof of her mouth. Her gums were purple and bloody and mangled and swollen, and oh goodness, it was a hard night. My heart just hurt so badly for her. We were so scared that there would be no fixing her once-beautiful smile.

Long story short, I asked for prayer for a healing miracle, and we’re well on our way. Our amazing dentist, Dr. Larry Devese, who loves God and our family, had us come in right away yesterday morning and spent 90 minutes giving Ava lots of novocaine and moving her teeth back in place as best he could. We have a long way to go, but we’re filled with hope. And gratitude. (Please keep praying for her. She’s in a lot of pain.)

I’ll be honest. When we first got the call about Ava (we weren’t with her, but thankfully the rest of Gabe’s family was there to comfort her), I’ll admit that I wasn’t very happy with God’s timing. First Gabe has a heart attack, and just when we’re finally getting used to our new routine, we up and leave for 5 weeks in Cambodia. And then we’ve got jet lag times five, and just when we’re finally getting over the hump, more trauma, this time for our little girl.

And then the money. We paid off both cars this year and were excited to tackle our last debt besides our house (Gabe’s school bill), and then the heart attack bills start flooding in (our homecoming mail on January 13 was a delightful mixture of 4-week-old Christmas cards and 2nd and 3rd notices from the hospital). And now, hello orthodontist.

And then God gently reminded me that, “Hey, you know I’m with you, right? Your husband shouldn’t have survived his Widow Maker artery being 100% blocked. I saved his life. And made him whole. And you remember when Cambodia was just a dream? Remember when you had $340 in the Cambodia Fund and wondered when on earth you’d ever get there? And your baby girl? She could’ve had a brain injury or paralysis, but instead she just has a couple teeth we need to fix, and I created little mouths to heal so quickly.”

And I just cried. Because I did remember. I do remember. And I remember something that happened on December 21, something we never shared because, after seeing how Gabe’s heart attack affected his poor mama in Africa, we didn’t want to scare any of our family while we were all the way on the other side of the world.

But I can tell you now. Because there’s some glory in it for our God.

It was the morning of December 21, 2011. We were so excited (especially me), because we were heading to the Phnom Penh International Airport to meet my friend, Keri, her husband, Scot, and their boys, Garrett and Nathan. We had only ever met online (+ 1 phone chat & 1 skype chat), and now they were flying in from Singapore to spend eight days with our family in Cambodia.

We got to the airport early, and their flight was late, so we were standing up for a long, long time. We were a little restless but having fun people-watching, until Gabe told me he wasn’t feeling well. “Are you sweaty?” he asked me. “No,” I said. The weather was a gorgeous 80 degrees, and we were in the shade with a breeze.

“I’m sweaty.” And he was. Very. His head was sweaty, his feet were sweaty, his whole body was sweaty. And it was a cold, clammy sweat. Exactly the same kind of sweat he’d been sweating on the night of October 29. While he was having a heart attack.

I tried not to panic. I could tell he was worried. He put his hand on his heart (my least favorite thing that he does these days).

“I think it’s my heart.”

And mine sank.

“This is how I felt when I was having a heart attack.”

And then a fog. Scot and Keri got off the plane. We hugged. Gabe hung back. We were going to split up into guys and girls tuk-tuks, so Keri and I could get to know each other on the 30-minute ride back to the guesthouse. But Gabe wouldn’t let me leave him. I don’t blame him. A 30-minute tuk-tuk ride with complete strangers while you’re about to pass out and afraid you’re having a heart attack?

I briefly explained to Keri. She understood. It was a long, long ride. I prayed hard.

We got back, dumped Keri and her family and their luggage and our children, and pulled away in our pastor friend Narin’s van (he owns the guesthouse and was, thankfully, home when we got there). He asked us if we wanted Western care or Khmer. He told us that Western doctors could cost us hundreds, possibly thousands, of dollars but with Khmer care there was no guarantee that anything would be clean or safe or fill-in-the-blank-with-comforting-adjectives. Gabe said Western.

Then Narin said, “Or I have a Khmer friend I could call. He’s a believer, and he’s very good at what he does. Do you want me to go back and get his number?”

We said yes. While he was getting the number, Gabe said. “It’s definitely my heart. And we need to hurry. Like we need to get there NOW.”

All I could do was beg God for mercy. Visions of taking my husband’s corpse back to the States while I comforted our daughters filled my head. Cambodia has no real Western hospitals, no way at all of helping someone who is having a heart attack. We had been told he’d need to be care-flighted to Bangkok if anything happened with his heart. We did have the name of one Christian doctor who we could go to. His name was in an e-mail on Gabe’s laptop back at the guesthouse.

The storyteller in me would love to drag out the drama, but I’m going to cut to the chase. We got to the clinic, there was no wait, they took us back for Gabe to get an EKG on very antiquated equipment (that did the job). It was all so surreal. I just took deep breaths and tried to rest in knowing that God was in control, that he was with us even in Cambodia.

The EKG came back normal. His heart rate was low. The blood sugar test showed that he needed food. We had missed lunch, standing and waiting at the airport. He wasn’t having a heart attack. He just needed to eat.

I wanted to kiss the doctor’s feet. Dr. Modich. The same doctor, as we discovered a few days later, that friends had recommended to us in that e-mail.

I went up to the counter to pay the bill, still shaking from everything that had happened. When the receptionist handed me the bill, I gasped. She looked at me, concerned.

Thirty-six dollars.

THIRTY-SIX DOLLARS.

Seeing the doctor = $30. EKG = $10. Blood sugar test = $1. Missionary discount = -$5.

Thirty-six freaking dollars.

Gabe ate lunch on time the rest of our trip, threw in some regular morning exercise for good measure, and that was that.

God has our backs, friends. On these dreary Ohio winter days when I’m tired of blending milkshakes and making chicken noodle soup for my hurting little girl, and piles of stuff are glaring at me, and I have writer’s block out the ying-yang, and God is whispering, “Wait,” when I ask him for hints about our future, I’m going to remember.

To God be the glory. Great things he has done.

Ava had a trampoline accident tonight and messed up her mouth and front teeth really badly. She’s in pain physically but also really hurting emotionally. It’s painful to look at, and she’s afraid we won’t be able to get it fixed. It looks so awful. My mama heart is a mess, and I want so badly to reassure her that everything will be okay. Please pray for good news from the x-ray tomorrow and miraculous healing and perfect restoration of her beautiful smile.

Thank you so much, friends.

I must lead a pretty lazy, laid-back life in the ol’ US of A. It’s so hard to find time to blog here. Whew. We have a little bit of downtime before dinner, so I’m going to try to find some words.

We had such a wonderful time at the Boys’ Center Christmas party. What a blessing to hang out with 79 kiddos in the afternoon (plus another quite a few in the morning, including some young adult guys who come to learn English). They loved to sing and play games, and the skits were a huge hit. Here’s Yvonne pretending to try to teach English to some unruly students (played by the talented staff).

Speaking of the awesome staff, here they are under the sweet Punlok Thmey banner my sister made for them. I’m excited to give them pictures of the boys so they can put them up all around the center. I also have some canvases and paint for them, so the boys and staff can make their own artwork for some of the walls. Hooray!

Some of Keri’s friends in Singapore donated a ton of boys’ clothes for the center. That’s something they haven’t done previously–have clothes available for the boys (that I know of anyway). There were some cute, cute clothes. How exciting! Something else they’d like to do when they get the funding is provide lunch for the boys each day. They estimate that it will cost around $75, and I’d love to find a way to help make it happen. Anybody in?? If we all banded together, I bet God could take it and run with it.

We are loving having Scot and Keri and their boys here. It’s fun to actually be able to show people around “our” city. The Jenkinses aren’t your typical family though. They live in Singapore and have traveled around Asia quite a bit. This is their first time to Cambodia though.

They loved our kiddos at the orphanage. We played a fun game where Panha stood on the stair landing and counted to three (muy, pii, bey!) before launching a ton of rubber balls out at them. They linked arms with a partner and had to catch/gather as many balls as they could. After we played it several times, our five kiddos launched a secret attack of the silly string.

Keri fell in love with all the kiddos, but Srey Nut spent a good bit of time snuggled up in her lap. She begged us to stay longer (Keri, that is), but we couldn’t. We’ll be back on Saturday!

Speaking of beautiful Keri, she wrote her first post from Cambodia last night. I haven’t actually read it all (it took too long to load because of the big pics/not-so-fast internet connection), but I can guarantee it’s a good one.

Signing off for now. Let me know if there are any specific photos you’d like to see. Like of me eating a tarantula or something. Because I have one of those.

Or just plain eleven, as some (boring) people might call it. Either way, HOW ON EARTH did I get an 11-year-old?!?

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, beautiful girl!! Dad and I love you like NUTS!! Let me count the ways!

1. I love your uncanny ability (that you have had for pretty much all of your 11 years) to perk up your radar ears every single time someone is either a.) talking about you or b.) talking about something you think you might be interested in. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been in bed with the fan on for two whole hours. You’ll still know your dad and I are talking about you downstairs in the living room.

2. I love your sense of adventure. You like to do crazy things. Like ride roller coasters. And race boys. And stuff like that.

3. I love your ever-swirling, never-slowing mind. Your brain wheels are constantly churning, and you want to know as many whos/whats/whens/wheres/whys/hows as possible.

4. I love how quickly and easily you make friends (i.e., Hannah from our Zoo Trip). And you’re such a good friend too.

5. I love your sensitive spirit and your heart for others–especially those who are hurting.

6. I love the artistic talent you inherited from your daddy. You’re a wonderful artist.

7. I love how God speaks to you (maybe not audibly, but very clearly in your heart) and you listen. Don’t ever stop listening, baby girl.

8. I love watching you play soccer (another talent you inherited from Daddy-O). You’re not graceful by any stretch, but there’s no mistaking it, you’ve got a gift. And you love the game. Playing, watching, Wii-ing. I can’t wait for you to play in Cambodia.

9. I love your hugs. You’re such a good hugger. You’re so tiny (just a few inches shorter than your mama but only half as thick and wide) that I could probably wrap my arms around you twice, but you fit perfectly up against me and hug me just the right tight.

10. I love how you love your sisters. You might not always get along (oh goodness, you three can fight), but when you’re in the mood for loving, you love each other GOOD. And it warms my heart. I’m so thankful for the bond you three share. And praying we all still love each other when we get back from Cambodia.

11. I love our deep, meaningful conversations and the silly laughs and giggles. I love reading out loud together and trading backscratches. I love our shared passion for loving the poor and oppressed and seeing God’s world. I could go on and on and on. Seriously.

I love you so much, girl. I thank God for you every single day. You are an incredible young woman.

Love, Mom

Taking some time off to bask in the gift of family this weekend. Tomorrow: my mom & dad, sis, niece, nephew, & my girlies. Thursday: Gabe’s mom’s side of the family. Friday: all-day birthday date with the Birthday Boy. Praising God for letting Gabe see 35. Here’s to 45, 55, 65, 75, 85, 95, and 105! Saturday: more birthday fun. Sunday: time with our church family. See you on Monday!

Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth! Serve the Lord with gladness! Come into his presence with singing! Know that the Lord, he is God! It is he who made us, and we are his, we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise! Give thanks to him; bless his name! For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.

Psalm 100