The Widow Maker

There are an infinite number of things--diseases, natural disasters, gang related issues, and on and on the list goes-- that could aptly be named "widow makers" in this country.  For that matter, the Pan-American highway could be called a widow maker.  It's so much better than it used to be, but there are still lots of places where you could find yourself face to face with Jesus if you weren't paying attention to the fact that the lane you're in has fallen off the mountain, or that the pothole you're about to hit is big enough to swallow your whole car, or that there's a sinkhole that's taken a chunk of median out, or that you are now sharing a lane with oncoming traffic,....but today's post is about none of those things.  Today I'm writing to you about the bane of my existence--our shower.

Why in the world is our shower called a widow maker, you ask?  Well, it's simple, really.  With the exception of rich people and fancy hotels, no one here has a hot water heater.  Since I am not rich, this includes our house.  As a matter of fact, as you can see in the picture, there is only one knob in the shower.  It's for cold water. Now see that green contraption with all the live wires hanging out of it?  There's a close-up below. That's the widow maker.  As the water comes into the bathroom, it goes through that green canister where there is a live wire that heats the water just before it falls out of the showerhead. Sound dangerous?  It is.  Hence it's name. So what keeps us from electrocuting ourselves every time we bathe?  The fact that the water does not fall in a steady stream, but rather in drops that break up the electrical current.  So if you're tall (which thankfully Jessie and I are not) you have to be super careful not to actually touch the showerhead while water is coming out, because if you do, you're going to get zapped.  (In all honestly, I've only ever heard of one person who died here using this contraption, and I think he was single...no widow left behind.) 

Now add to that the fact that we sometimes have running water and sometimes not, that we sometimes have electricity and sometimes not, and that when we DO have elecricity, it's terrible because it's only 110, (and sometimes I question that) and you might begin to understand why I have such a love/hate relationship with our shower.  If our water pressure is too low, the widow maker will not switch on and we get a cold shower.  If it is too forceful, it will switch on but not heat the water enough, and we get a cold shower.  Sometimes we get hot water just until I have put conditioner in my hair, and then for some ridiculous reason it switches itself off. The little dance that ensues is always fun, especially when it's 50 degrees inside the house because we have no indoor heat either.

So why am I telling you all this? Partly to give you a little taste of what life can be like here, and partly to vent, I suppose.  I truly shouldn't complain.  Most of my friends  get to bathe in the dirty river or with a bucket of cold water.  Our frigid, potentially lethal shower is definitely a cut above that. But since we have electricity, running water, and a widow maker, I expect that I should get to take a hot shower.  Then when I can't, I find myself getting pretty frustrated.  Ok, mad. So mad I could spit nails. But I have visited places where a hot shower is not even an option, and it didn't frustrate or anger me because I had no expectation of a hot shower.    So this shower situation got me to analyzing the role that expectations play in our attitude.  Could it be that the majority of our frustration stems from unmet expectations? And if that's true, how do we then adjust our expectations?  If I had the answer to that, I suppose I'd be rich enough to get a hot water heater--HAHA!  So far as I can figure, the thing is to recognize that all this real-life craziness that we all live in is temporary. Only eternity matters.  Psalm 62:5 "My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from Him."  I have a funny feeling it won't be long before I have the opportunity to practice that in our freezing cold shower.

Dios Es Amor

Rebeca, my newest addition to LI,  looks up
 to smile at me while her buddy, Hilda, focuses 
on her writing. That's Imelda seated in the
 back on the left.  Check out that smile--
that's what hope looks like!

Today was a big day for Loving InDeed--I started our new literacy program!  Of the 23 widows enrolled in LI, only 3 of them can read, write, or do basic math.  I felt like it was time to tackle that issue.  I can't tell you how much we all loved it!  I really miss being in the classroom sometimes, so this just thrills me to the core! And there wasn't one single woman who didn't have a huge smile on her face when I passed out their notebooks and we got started. I know this process scares most of them.  We are starting from scratch--how to hold a pen--and that can be pretty intimidating  for women in their 30's and 40's who've never had the opportunity to go to school.

The thing I love best about the program is that I am using scripture to teach reading.  Each week we'll do a different letter and memorize a new verse or piece of one.  Today was the letter Aa using  I John 4:8 "Dios es amor." We talked about how having love and being love are two different things.  My hope is that they'll not only get better nutrition, medical care, an education, and a marketable skill, but that they'll also learn more about their Heavenly Father who has promised to be a father to orphans and a defender of widows.

Aura's son, Daddy, looks over his mom's shoulder to
make sure she's doing a good job.

The warehouse that I purchase food from gives me bonuses because of the quantity that I buy, so I used those extra goodies as prizes for the ladies who were willing to come up and practice writing our letter of the day on the whiteboard.  Others won prizes for finding all the a's in a given sentence, even though they could not read the sentence.  I also gave prizes to women who could think of other words that started with that same sound.  Even with rewards, it was hard to get volunteers at first, but they quickly warmed up to the idea when they realized that they were ALL in the same boat, and there was no need to be embarrassed. They have promised to practice writing the letter and to memorize the verse so that they have it down by next week.  Nearly every woman in LI has children who are not yet school age, but are close.  The kids were all ears this morning and learning right along with their moms.  I'm sitting here grinning from ear to ear just remembering how it all happened. Imagine all these little ones entering school already ahead of their peers!

Marta was so anxious about her work, but I
think she did a fabulous job.  I'm so proud of
these ladies for even being willing to try!

When I was finished with the lesson, I dismissed them all, but no one left.  One by one, they trickled up to see me, hug me good-bye, and show me their notebooks even though I'd not asked to see them.  Twenty-three times I heard, "I can't do this very well, but here it is.  Is it ok?" And twenty-three times I got to respond with a smile, a hug, and "These look wonderful!  You did a great job. I think this one here is your best one. I knew you could do it!" Their genuine smiles made my whole day! They are so very eager to please and so vulnerable. It was absolutely precious...one of my most memorable LI days ever.  I can't wait to see what they can do as their confidence grows!