"Home is where your story begins..."

Where do I start? We were finally able to get the Internet hooked up in our house. So, there is a lot to cover.

The title, "Home is where your story begins" is off of a card my Mom gave me. I have it framed and waiting to be hung on the wall. It's saying is appropriate from what I'm about to write. I have quite a story.

Let's see... We arrived in Homer on Thursday, September 24, after staying the night with some friends in Eagle River. Upon pulling up the driveway, we quickly realized having a 4-wheel drive will be necessary. It's steep and made of gravel. Not to mention very bumpy thanks to the ash from Mt. Redoubt earlier this year. I'm told the ash and rain messed up the gravel.

As we pulled to the top, we found two volunteer plumbers from the Soldotna church working on the new boiler system in our house. It's supposed to be the most efficient on the market today. So, hopefully it'll save our bills. Because of the complexity of the system, it has been a long process to finish. Infact, I'm typing with cold fingers because we still don't have heat in our house. We're told it'll be finished this week. There was no hot water for three days after we arrived, but were able to take hot showers just in time for Sunday. As long as the sun shines in our front windows, we really don't need heat anyway. It's only bee in the 50s outside during the day and the sun can get hot. In the mean time, we have been using an electric space heater to warm our toes.

On Saturday, September 26, I got to celebrate my first birthday back in Alaska. Mom helped unpack my kitchen and living room (so we could function) and we planned to eat a nice dinner that evening. Things never go as planned, though, do they?

Dad and Jon were moving some large items into the garage from outside in the late afternoon. The garage door at that time was broken and did not have a working motor or attached springs. So, it weighed close to 400 lbs. It was an old heavy door (notice I said "was").

Upon closing the large door, Dad and Jon were easing it down. Eventually it became too heavy and they both let it go crashing down. In the mean time, Jon's left index finger didn't escape in time and got pinched in between two of the slats. He hunched down grabbing his finger and we realized there was too much blood on the floor for just a band aid. We quickly gave him a clean rag to pinch off the blood, hopped in our mini-van, and headed for the emergency room.

The nurse wheeled him into a small room and sat him on the gurney/bed thing. It was then that we realized his finger was missing half-way down his fingernail. Soon after, the doctor on call walked out to the waiting room where my parents were sitting and handed them a baggie full of ice. "We need the rest of his finger," he told them, and handed the bag over.

So, my wonderful parents drove back to the house and retrieved a piece of fingertip. Even though Dad used to be an EMT, I think it was still gross for him, I don't know. I didn't really ask.

The doctor on call didn't feel confident enough to sew the skin back on himself, so he called the general surgeon. After waiting for an hour and a half, a thick-bearded man with suspenders over a flannel shirt and rubber boots walked into the triage room. "Welcome to Homer," I thought to myself. The surgeon had arrived.

At this point, I was getting pretty grossed out because the surgeon took the clean gauze off Jon's finger and was looking to see how he could fix the skin (by the way, for those of you who like the gory details, the bone was sticking out...or so I'm told. I didn't look). So, I went to the waiting room to "wait." Jon was in good spirits and didn't need emotional support from me. Infact, while we were waiting for the surgeon, he kept waving to people who passed our room with his gauzed-up half-missing finger. What a nut. I think adrenaline was still keeping most of the pain at bay.

So, to draw this story out even more, Jon's finger is a little shorter, but so far no amputations have been made. The surgeon sewed the skin back on and we're waiting to see if it "takes." We visited the surgeon yesterday and he said we really won't know for another 4-6 weeks whether it'll heal properly. If it doesn't, he may have to cut the bone back a little so there is more skin to cover the top. We're hoping he won't need to cut all the way back to the top knuckle. Good thing Jon is a righty. However, it's already proven to make typing on the computer a challenge.

So, happy birthday to me. :) It will go down in history. We ended up eating a nice turkey dinner at home upon returning from the hospital. Thank you Mom and Dad! They sure took care of us. I was sad when we had to take them back to the airport.

Jon preached the next day with a nice big splint on his finger and sling to hold his left arm above his heart. All I can say is I'm glad it's in the past. Let's move forward.

The following Monday, we left again for Anchorage. Mom and Dad flew out early Tuesday morning and we wanted to take time to do some souvenir shopping before they left.

The rest of that week, Jon and I attended Pastors and Spouses Retreat at Camp Maranatha, the district camp. We enjoyed meeting all the pastors and saying hello to the ones we already knew. We are thankful for the closeness of the Alaska district and the support we receive from our new friends. This is a district unlike any other. Even Dr. Oord, our NNU guest, said he was impressed with the atmosphere of the district and camaraderie between pastors.

Upon returning home, we prepared for our second Sunday in Homer. Needless to say, it went better than our first. With only 16 people in attendance, we sang songs, had fellowship, and listened to Jon preach.

I have especially felt challenged as I lead worship with a guitar player who doesn't read music and speaks moderate English. He listens to the songs on the internet and learns them by ear. So far, we've sung all 8 songs he knows. He said he's willing to learn 2 new songs per week. I need to go pick them out so he can begin learning them. I sometimes feel like I am holding my breath, but God continues to provide.

Jon and I still have a lot of boxes to unpack and drivers licences to change over. And we need to go figure out what bank we want to use as Homer doesn't have a Bank of America. Fun stuff.

Thank you for all your prayer support. Please don't stop. We pray that God's strength is made perfect in our weaknesses. Like any new job, we're still trying to learn the "ropes." We've been blessed with a flexible church board (two members at the moment) and caring laymen.

Stay tuned for our next big adventure...

P.S. We finally saw a young moose in our driveway yesterday. We're told black bear frequent our yard (and sometimes our deck) as well. Still waiting to see one of those.