The Moberg Family

Category: YWAM

  • It Could Be a lot Worse…

    Preface: This post is not for the faint of heart.
    ***

    Thank you for joining me for today’s episode of “It Could Be a Lot Worse.”

    Whenever I’m miserable, I always try to think of a way I could be more miserable, and it usually helps me take off my grumpy pants pretty quickly and move into gratitude. (As evidenced in a post I wrote over a year ago: The Journey to Mazatlan.)

    My mosquito bites are making me miserable*.

    If you’re ever in the mood to practice self control, fly yourself on over to the DR and shake hands with a few mosquitoes. And then after they have venomously sucked your blood and left dozen of marks on their new-found territory (aka, your epidermis), try not to scratch the bites. In fact, cut your fingernails so you can’t scratch the bites. So there you have it–the world’s most challenging lesson in self control.

    I know you’re going to think this must be an exaggeration, but I literally have WELL over 100 mosquito bites. I counted about a two weeks ago and I was at 79. By mid-morning of the next day I had at least 30 more. I’m sure I’m nearing 200, but I figured I’d estimate low for my sanity (and yours).

    So as miserable as I’ve been having all of these mosquitoes CONSTANTLY swarming around my body, the moment I start to get so annoyed that I’m tempted to cuss, (yes, I am actually that aggravated with them) I just think to myself, “This could be a lot worse. I could be warding off poisonous spiders at every turn…ugh….now that would be a lot worse.”

    And suddenly the sting of the mosquito itch bothers me a lot less. The buzzing of the mosquito wings makes me much less batty. And…here it comes: the the nuisance of my mosquito companions actually drives me toward gratitude. I mean, if I have to pick a battle, I would pick it with almost anything that has any number of legs OTHER than 8.

    So that brings us to the other night when we were all sitting around in the common area and Joe looks at me and says, “So have you seen a tarantula yet?”

    I’m pretty sure time came to a screeching halt, the earth quit rotating, and the moon quit illuminating light. I stared back at Joe blankly, “Excuse me?”

    “Have you seen a tarantula yet?”

    “I’m sorry…WHAT? You’re kidding me, right?”

    “No, not at all.” Joe says quite bluntly with his usual matter-of-fact way of communicating.

    I glanced at Adrienne, Joe’s girlfriend, to confirm whether or not he was pulling one of my mosquito-laden legs. “He’s right…” she said with an apologetic smile.

    “You only see them every once in a while,” he calmly explained.

    “How big are they?” I probed.

    With that, Joe kind of smiled and held his hands together to form a circle with about a 7” diameter.

    “You’re kidding me.”

    “Not at all,” Joe laughed.

    And that brings us to the next evening. It was a cool night (and what I mean by that is, I only had a thin layer of sweat covering me rather than beads of sweat dripping from every square inch of my body) so Brian decided to take a swim and I dangled my feet in the water beneath the moonlight to try and cool off my itchy legs that were burning as if they had literally been set on fire.

    The security guard was walking his normal rounds when suddenly he picked up his speed and was clearly concerned about something. With alarm, he started rushing toward something. His eyes were focused on the ground in an open grassy area so I was never concerned for a moment that there was an intruder or anything like that. I followed his gaze to the ground which is when I saw this large shadow scurrying across the grass. I would recognize that eight-legged trot if I were blind-folded in a dark room–it was totally a spider.

    No, wait. It wasn’t “a spider”.

    IT WAS THE WORLD’S LARGEST 8-LEGGED CREATURE THAT I HAD EVER SET MY EYES UPON.

    It was a mammoth. And my conversation with Joe came flooding back to my mind as I realized I was face-to-face with a tarantula.

    Well…when I say “face-to-face,” I mean from 50 feet away. But do you realize how BIG a spider would have to be for me to see it in the DARK from 50 feet away? So though we were 50 feet away, I was practically face-to-face with him. And it was positively the most disgusting face I have ever seen.

    I bet you want to know what happens next, don’t you? Well the security guard takes the stock of his gun, lifts it high above his head, and starts slamming it against the monster over and over and over again until he was satisfied that it was dead. I was laughing and cringing with every blow. He then scooped it onto the barrel of the gun and again, from 50 feet away in the dark I could see the silhouette of its EIGHT, GIANT, FURRY, THICK legs dangling over his gun as he carried it off the property.

    Whelp, I suppose it’s time to play another round of, “It could be a lot worse…” 

    * “Miserable” is defined as: “We are loving our time here in the Dominican Republic, but are hating the mosquitoes that pervade every aspect of our lives!” But it was much more satisfying and took up a lot less space to just write, “miserable.” 🙂

  • Home is Where You Hang Your Mosquito Net

    Home is Where You Hang Your Mosquito Net

    Estamos aqui, afuera de Santo Domingo, La Republica Dominicana!

    For all you English speakers, I just said: Here we are, just outside of Santo Domingo, the Dominican Republic!

    This is the sign that welcomed us just after we got through customs…Ahhh, we’re finally here!!!! 



    Still can’t picture where we are? Let me help you.

    Here is the bottom half of the good ol’ US of A and Central America.

    Can you see Haiti and the Dominican Republic over there on the right? Just north of Venezuela, and just southeast of Florida?

    Here is a close-up of the island. Haiti on the left, the Dominican Republic (or, “the DR”) on the right:

    Here is a close-up of the DR):

    Do you see just east of Santo Domingo, it says, “San Pedro”? Well, that’s where we are!!
    So…yes, here we are. And WHO are WE, you might ask? We are the Mexican Mobergs. We are the Mexican-two adults, one baby, six bags, one car seat, 50 lbs of baby food, and over 200 mosquito bites between the two of us-Mobergs. 
    This is our home for a total of 6 weeks. 
    The property is beautiful.
    I took this right after a storm…cool, eh?
    The people are lovely, the weather is HOT and HUMID, the sky is crystal clear (except when it’s not…like in all these photos…haha).
    And the mosquitoes are the most awful creatures in the existence of existing. They are the bane of my existence.
    How disgusting is this? You can count 13 mosquito bites on my leg and foot JUST from this one view. (It’s kind of hard to see but there are 5 on the right side of my foot alone.) Everyone says there’s an “initiation” week, and then your blood adjusts or something and it gets better. However, we’re on day 11 and they are FO’ SURE still biting the heck out of me. All I do all day long is put on mosquito repellent, but still they find me… :/
    And now for a little tour. The property is one big rectangle.
    Here is the first half of the rectangle, looking at the front gate from our balcony:
    The villa to the left of the gate has the office, community room, and kitchen on the first floor, and then it has two bedrooms upstairs. 
    Here is a view of the second half, looking at it from the gate:
    The Villa on the left is where our room is. The single guys stay in the villa to the right.
    A close-up of our villa! Our room is in the upper left part. So the window that’s open on the far upper left is our window.  And the balcony that’s to the right of the window is our balcony. We share our villa with Danae & Danny and Adrienne. We share a bathroom with Danae & Danny.
    Here is a picture of our room, mosquito net and all…
    Elliott’s pack ‘n play is equipped with his very own mosquito net! YEAH!

    The only problem with sleeping in the same room as Elliott is that now I want to take pictures of him even when he’s sleeping!! So here are a couple of my favorite sleeping shots, through his mosquito net:
    Elliott rarely falls asleep on his back, so when he does I just think it’s the cutest! And, seriously now–could his outfit possibly be any cuter?!
    Stay tuned for a “Meet the Staff” post!!

  • Dreams

    “Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.” Proverbs 13:12

     

    I grew up with dreams.

    And I am convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that my dreams are from God. That He, the Author and Perfecter of my faith, planted these dreams in my heart long before I knew what the word “dream” meant, and He–and only He–is the One in charge of fulfilling them.

    There are so many “itty bitty” dreams that my Creator has knowingly crafted and accomplished in my life, but here I want to reflect on four of the “big” ones. (Note: I must put the size of these dreams in quotes because really, is anything “big” or “small” for our God?! With a spoken word, every part of creation was crafted into being…I can’t think of a more simple “act” on God’s part and yet with that, he created the greatest of all complexities!)

    Ever since I can remember remembering, I’ve always dreamed of being a teacher. Not sure where that came from…neither of my parents were teachers by trade, although they are both quite gifted in teaching. I remember sitting in school (as early as first grade) thinking, “Wow, my teacher is doing a great job of teaching me…I should write down everything she is doing so I can teach this well when I grow up.” Every grade I attended became my new favorite and thus the grade that I wanted to teach when I grew up.

    Somewhere along the line, I became passionate about Mexico. And little Mexican children. Definitely not sure where that came from… But I knew I had to learn Spanish, and it wasn’t until my freshmen year of high school that I was finally able to take a course. And I immediately fell in love with the language that I apparently had a natural knack for. And meanwhile I dreamed of living in Mexico one day, doing mission work and teaching little kids how to speak English.

    I went to college to pursue my teaching degree and finished with a bachelors in Education, endorsements in Spanish and Elementary Education and a minor in Teaching English as a Second Language. Perfect set up to pursue my dream. Not long after graduating, I was offered a job teaching at a Language Immersion School in Tacoma…and I remember blinking several times as the job fell into my lap…Really? Really? Could this really be happening? So many parts of my dream are coming true…

    Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of marrying a prince who would adore me and cherish me and love me forever. I remember when Brian led me by my hand to the boat that was supposed to take us to a job site he was called to in the middle of a date we were on, and saw the gorgeous pink flowers and the perfectly wrapped presents inside and suddenly there I was again…in my dream. I was floating through a dream, watching Brian lead me across the dock and down the steps into the boat. And I heard myself say, “Wait, was is this?” And I saw my brain ticking…It’s not quite my birthday yet, so this can’t be a birthday surprise…and we haven’t picked out a ring yet, so he can’t be proposing…and wait a minute, we’re supposed to be heading to his job site…What is this? And I watched the tender and knowing smile spread across Brian’s face as he told me to sit down while he started the engine… And the dream went on, as a ring was slipped on my finger, as my brother and sister-in-law (who live thousands of miles away) suddenly appeared on the dock of the restaurant where we were to eat lunch, as the woman gave me a beautiful french manicure, as we ate dinner with both sets of our parents, as we drove to Brian’s home where our closest friends were waiting for us and as every day after that passed and my ring was in constant view, secured in a permanent place on my left hand. Really? Really? Could this really be happening? My dream, my prince has finally come? The reality of this dream becoming a reality was almost too much for me to handle…I couldn’t even filter and sort the gazillion thoughts flooding through my head during our engagement season, the night before our wedding day, and as I walked down that aisle towards my prince.

    Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of being a mom. I have just loved “little ones” ever since as I realized that there were “little ones” littler than me. I volunteered in our church’s nursery, read every book in The Babysitter’s Club series, and enrolled in courses to be a certified baby sitter while still in elementary school. I ordered books on fun craft projects with kids and I’d bring them with me when I landed babysitting jobs. About 5 seconds into my teaching career I was ready to apply for my foster care license because I just couldn’t handle the injustice that so many of my students lived under. I wanted to be their mom. I knew I could do a good job, by the grace of God, and I wanted to take them home with me… When Elliott was, after a long hard labor, placed in my arms that Sunday evening, I just wept and couldn’t believe this dream was being realized. Really? Really? Could this really be happening? I have a son…a most perfect son… And not a day has gone by since that I have not been overwhelmed by the goodness of the Lord to give us this perfect baby boy.

    Ever since about 2001, I have dreamed of being called and sent out by God. I have dreamed of being a missionary. I have dreamed of working in an orphanage or working with children and families who are in need. I would read about times when the Lord would call his people in Scripture, and I would beg Him to call me. “The Lord spoke to Joshua…saying, ‘…Now therefore, arise, go over this Jordan, you and all this people, to the land which I am giving to them–the children of Israel. Every place that the sole of your foot will tread upon I have given you…No man shall be able to stand before you all the days of your lives; as I was with Moses, so I will be with you. I will not leave you nor forsake you. Be strong and of good courage, for to this people you shall divide as an inheritance the land which I swore to their fathers to give them…” (Joshua 1). I would read things like that and pray, “Oh God! Would you call me in the same way? Would you give me the land for your Name? Would you be with me, not leave me, not forsake me?” I would read about the destitute in Scripture and the ways that the Lord asks us to take care of them. “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Proverbs 31:8-9). And I would long to defend the rights of those who cannot speak up for themselves. I longed to be with the broken and the hurting. I longed to bring the love of Jesus to those who were suffering. The words in Isaiah 6 were the cry of my heart: “Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?’ And I said, ‘Here am I. Send me!’” I told the Lord over and over that I promised I would go if He would call. And He has called me various places over the last 10 years. I have been called to my students, I have been called to my colleagues, I have been called to my friends, I have been called “to the least of these,” I have been called to Africa, I have been called to the Eastside of Tacoma, I have been called to my husband, and I have been called to my son.

    And then the Lord called us to Mexico. To do all of the above. All my dreams, colliding into one.

    As is the reality of dreaming–dreams feel so surreal. So real, yet so unreal at the same time. You pinch yourself over and over, blink until there are tears streaming down your face, but again and again you wake up and realize that the dream is, indeed, reality. And so here we are, selling most everything that we own, because we’ve heard him say, “Whom shall I send? Who will go?”

    And we, two children of God on our knees, have blinked and pinched ourselves to the point of realizing that yes, He is asking us to go. And though I think we’ve known in our hearts that this was our call since the moment we heard of the opportunity, we are finally able to audibly say, “Us, Lord! Yes, send us! We will go!”

    And so we strap our little one our back, and we go…We go with the faith that “He who’s promised is faithful,” with the faith that “a longing fulfilled will bring life,” with the faith that, “God reigns over the nations; God sits on His holy throne.”

    Here am I, Lord. Awake, alert, and ready to be sent out into this dream that You have fostered in my heart. Send me, God!

  • Tacos, Faith and a Step Into The Unknown!

    Tacos, Faith and a Step Into The Unknown!

    We have some news.

    And every time I’ve mentioned to someone that we have some news, the response has–almost 100% of the time–always been, “Oh my goodness, you’re either pregnant or you’re moving.”

    Well, we’re not pregnant, so….

    You guessed it!

    We’re moving.

    Yes, yes. You read that right.

    Now you must wondering, “To where?”

    Well, my friends, blink your eyes a few times and read on…

    We’re moving to Mexico.
    Yes, thee Mexico.
    Little did we know that my “Mexican Mobergs” blog post was soon to be more of a reality than anyone could have ever expected. Because now we are moving there. To become Mexicans.
    But seriously…anyone who knows me well knows I have spent long nights dreaming about becoming a Mexican. Now that we’re moving there, I FULLY plan on accepting the complete identity of an honest-to-goodness Senora.
    Just call me “Senora Moberg.” (Ahem, “Moberg” needs to be said with a Spanish accent…i.e., “Moh-bare-guh”)
    What are we going to do there (besides becoming Mexicans) you may ask? Well, let me tell you mis amigos. Grab a taco and listen up.
    We have decided to become missionaries. 
    We are joining Youth With A Mission (YWAM). There are opportunities with YWAM all over the world, but we are beginning our journey in Tijuana, Mexico. This may sound crazy to you, but our lives the past year have been pretty crazy too, so we’re just trying to keep it consistent :).
    But really, we believe God is calling us there. And so we are stepping out in faith. Big time faith. It’s not easy thinking about leaving friends and family, but we believe God is guiding us there and we know that the most joy-filled place is in His will. So, with our shields of faith we step out into the land of the green, white and red. The land of quesadillas and sombreros. The land of the brown-skinned, brown-eyed people whom I adore.
    We hope you will follow us there (through our blog!) and continue to journey with us as we take this step of faith.
    Hasta luego, amigos!

    Love,
    The REAL DEAL Mexican Mobergs