Two years ago today, my wife, our youngest daughter, and I were in the middle of a two week mission trip to Paraguay, South America.  The intent of our trip was to share the Gospel through juggling and illusions.  In the end, though, the real result was that our hearts were stolen.  Stolen by the people, not the place:  Juan Carlos, the street kid who brought an injured baby bird to youth group hoping someone could help the bird.  Enzo, the 14 year old who, in spite of not being able to speak each others' languages, was clearly flirting with Rose.  Teresa, another 14 year old who became Rose's friend for the time we were in Asuncion.  Pastor Carlos and his wife, Chilean missionaries who welcomed us into their home while we were in Ciudad del Este.  And so many others.

In addition to the relationships, our eyes were opened to a need that we felt able to help meet.  Education is terrible in Paraguay, and English as a second language is a huge need that is not being met.  So we began the process of applying to teach there.  There were many twists and turns just to get to the point of application, but our missionary friends, the Broughers, were confident we would get positions if we applied.

We applied to Asuncion Christian Academy, which is an English speaking school in the capital city.  We knew that, just like here in Maine, if we got teaching positions, we would soon find many opportunities to minister in the community in  other ways as well.  Rose, foreseeing that she and her best friend would only be in the same school one more year, was eager to start a new adventure, as long as we found a dance studio for her to take classes in.  Through the magic that is the internet, we were able to check out dance studios in Paraguay from the comfort of our living room couch in Maine.

In short order, the administration from ACA contacted us and we set up a Skype interview.  Before we were finished, Sue was offered a position teaching fifth grade -as well as being elementary head teacher - and I was offered the position of head of spiritual development, essentially the school chaplain.  "You know, I'm not ordained," I pointed out.  "No problem.  We like all your experience."  this was my dream job that I never knew I dreamed of holding.  I'd be responsible for three chapel services a week, retreats, hosting missions groups who served at the school, some counseling, and, best of all, no papers to correct!

We wanted this to happen so badly.  We pictured ourselves there serving in these roles already.  Certainly we prayed, but in our minds' eyes we were in our campus apartment, with like minded neighbors to socialize with on the weekends.  So we met with a realtor who, it turned out,  had a lot of good news for us.  Houses were moving again in Bridgton, Maine.  We might not make a big profit, but we could certainly get what we still owed in mortgage plus more to help with the transition.  She just had to check some records at town hall.

Then she called us back.  Our house, originally a two bedroom mobile, has a septic tank for a two bedroom house.  Since it was placed on this lot, there have been two additions and we now have a total of five, albeit small, bedrooms.  We cannot sell the house this way.  It would cost 8 to 10 thousand dollars to update the septic, but once that was done, there was no way we could expect to get for our house what we would then need to ask to cover this additional investment.  We were caught in a financial catch-22 with no immediate way out. 

So now we wait.  We take comfort in the fact that the fastest growing segment of our culture going on the mission field are retirees.  Today's grandparents, it seems,  are no longer Zeb and Grandma Walton.  We prepare to go back to our teaching jobs that we've enjoyed for many years, and we watch our maple tree add one or two more red leaves each day as fall steadily approaches.  Yes, we're sad and disappointed, but the truth is not many people get to live in a place where the trees do this annual fireworks show, there's a sandy pond a mile away to pass hot summer days, deer stroll unafraid into our year to eat our crab apples, and we are an hours drive away from mountains to our west and the ocean to our east.  If we can't live in Paraguay, paradise will have to do.