Homeless

Well, we did it. We finally left Wichita. It was hard. I mean, we've met some very dear friends during our time in Wichita. We sold our house, moved into the top floor of a day care, and really have been privileged to see this "IFMF" training program get up and running. We learned how to pull teeth, graft skin, manage trauma patients, and do spinal anesthesia, among other nifty new skills. The best part of all, I think, as I sit here late Christmas night is the tremendous fellowship and bonding I experienced just living and working with John and Logan (two of the other fellows) and their families. Rarely do we get a chance to live so deeply and get to know another person so intimately as during our time in Wichita in the old aparments above the daycare. It was close-quarters living- like being in college- just with a little more sense about us. Not much, just a little.

I am thankful for that. Now I sit in Kansas City, snowed in and ready for bed. Having put all of our stuff in storage, we're just spending our days hopping back and forth between April's parents and mine, towing our (now 20 month) toddler and our remaining possessions between the to loci. We're pretty well packed up and just biding our time until we leave for Zimbabwe. It really is great to see family, and bittersweet to watch the joy that our daughter brings to our families, knowing that we will take her away from them for a few months very soon. It hurts to know that our decision to go will cause those we love pain. It was a white Christmas today, as you can see in the pics. Zim will be a switch, for sure.

Thanks to everyone who is following our story and praying for us. We truly appreciate it. We'll keep you updated. Merry Christmas everybody!

wonderment

won⋅der⋅ment

  [wuhn-der-muhnt]

–noun

1.	wondering or wonder.

2.	a cause or occasion of wonder.

First, a bit about our family and then some more professional notes:

Remember Christmas when you were a year and half old? Neither do I. I can't help but smile, though, as I watch the Christmas season come to life in the eyes of our little girl. She's really a gem. Check out the photo of her first interaction with Santa Claus at the Christmas tree farm in Kansas City. She was terrified. She has however since that time been humoring us with her own shortened version of "Santa Clauz is coming to town." Which is pretty much those six words over and over and over. She becomes quite frightened if we continue onto the next verse about "he sees you when you're sleeping." She gets a nervous look on her face and repeatedly asks "Santa, night night?" "Abbi, night night?" in anxious tones. So, we leave that part out now.

Last week she hauled off and smacked April and immediately reprimanded herself "Don't Hit Mama." It was pretty funny. She also recently memorized her first bible verse. "The Lord is my shepherd." As the girls were reading through the same children's bible, Abbi suddenly looked at April and exclaimed "Jesus hit mama." Hmmmm - not sure where we went wrong in that story, but we'll keep trying. She's a talker. We get lots of "I love you" these days.
In other Abigail News, she has recently developed an addiction to chocolate milk. I gave it to her for a treat and she just hasn't been able to quit. We'll have to work on that.

As we wrap up our time in Wichita, we are continuously thankful for all the life experience we've had here and for all the wonderful relationships we've developed. Our apartment continues to look more like a living space and less like a home as all of our personal effects take up their new residence in our storage space for a while. The other International Fellows, some of our best friends, find themselves in the same situation - that of change. Change is in the air. It's uncomfortable and promises to leave us changed on the other side of this discomfort. Much like a child maturing, the growing pains ache, but in the end the child becomes the physical and (hopefully) spiritual adult that he was meant to be.

Our Christmas letter spoke a little bit of the above. I figure many of you who read this probably won't get a physical Christmas letter from us. Those of you who will (mom and dad) can just read it twice, or just gawk at the picture of Abbi that you'll get with it. reads like this:

December 2009

The relentless wind blows, as usual, against the building that the McQuillen family now calls home. I've often wondered why they don't call Wichita "the windy city." Change in our life this year seems to come like the wind, ever changing direction and propelled by an unseen force. We've called the hospital campus "home" this fall after our graduation from Family Medicine residency last June. We moved into our apartment, nestled in the top floor of the hospital day care building, after having spent the summer studying at West Virginia University. All this moving around is part of an extra year of medical training to learn how to function better in a mission hospital. If last year was a "year of firsts" for us, this year could easily be called "a year of change." The toddler-handprint art has come down from the walls of our home just as quickly as it went up several months ago. Most of our earthly possessions now rest in caddy wompus stacks in a small storage space. As I write, our suitcases lay open on the floor, ready to be strategically crammed with enough stuff to get us through the upcoming 5 months our family will be spending at Karanda mission hospital in Zimbabwe. Following our tenure in Zimbabwe, we will be moving to the great state of Iowa in order to join several dear friends. We look forward to our start date at Mercy Medical Center in New Hampton, Iowa on July 12, 2010.

Again, things have been pretty wild around here. Abigail, at 19 months of age, has developed an impressive vocabulary and manages to keep April and I busily entertained. Spending time with her brings us joy that is only rivaled by watching our parents with her and seeing the joy that she brings them. All curly hair and smiles, she is the cutest thing I've ever seen. She and April are my treasures.

Many people have funny reactions when I tell them about this year of international medicine training, about working in an unstable country, and about our goal of lifelong involvement in mission work. Indeed, we are very blessed to have many friends and family in our lives who care very much about us and our well being. We would like to wish every one of them a Merry Christmas in this letter. Yet, we know that even as you read this, you may wonder why we are choosing to go to Zimbabwe. The answer to this question fits in very well with the Spirit of Christmas! Indeed, the "Reason for the season" and the Reason for our trip is one and the same.

In the Bible, the book of Ecclesiastes follows Solomon's search for significance and meaning in his life. Solomon really lived it up. He was smarter, richer, better looking, and more powerful than any of us will ever be. He made Bill Gates look like a pauper and made Hugh Hefner look like a dweeb. The man had more than 1,000 women around the house. Despite all of his wealth, pleasure, and comfort he was never satisfied. I think at a deep level, we can all relate to this longing for significance, meaning, and security in our lives. If this wasn't the case, we (as a society) wouldn't be buying armloads of self help books with our maxed out credit cards. Though we try to fill our lives up with newer gadgets, more entertainment and louder distractions, the need in our hearts is never satisfied. This is clearly not a new problem for the human race. Solomon concludes that everything we try to fill this eternal need with is meaningless. In the end, He tells the reader (you and I) to "Remember your Creator" because He's going to judge us in the end.

This isn't just an idle threat, meant to inspire good behavior and social order. It's just the way it is. There is a God in heaven who made the entire world. We were made to "remember" Him, to truly know him, to have those seemingly unsatisfiable needs in our heart met by Him. We were meant to have peace with God. But this harmony escapes us. This is evident in our attempts to escape reality, in the secret shame that haunts us, and in the heavy burdens of guilt each of us carries. And in the end, our relationship with God is a broken one and we are guilty. We know this in our hearts. The Jews knew it. Check the history books. For thousands of years, Jews tried to follow the religious rigor of the day. Even a good shot at following God's law fell so short of perfection. Day after day, those who knew God's law absorbed themselves in sacrifice and ritual, never able to escape the heaviness of sin. They, like us, found themselves in need of a Savior.

Suddenly, in a remote corner of the world, a star shines brightly. Lowly farmhands are greeted by Angels announcing truly remarkable news. A baby is born in a stable in Bethlehem. He is the Messiah, the Son of God coming to fix our broken relationship with Him. Hope bursts onto the scene. The Bible tells us that this child, this Jesus, did not come to condemn the world but to save the world. At the end of his years on the this earth, this perfect Christ paid the price for my disobedience to God with his very life. The anger of God towards my sin was fully absorbed in his death. My sin was completely defeated when he rose up again from the grave! He took my shame. He took my guilt. He has filled our deepest needs and given us great purpose and meaning in our lives. The Bible says in Romans: "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." God looks at me, sees only Jesus, and He is pleased. I am humbled and amazed that this is true.

People all over the world are stuck, drowning in a sea of guilt and shame, trying desperately to satisfy a need that can never be fulfilled by anyone or anything apart from their Creator. So many years ago God provided a way, in that special little baby from Bethlehem, to be saved from the tyranny of sin. Jesus offers peace, hope, joy, and meaning for all who receive him by faith. He longs to fill people's deepest needs, but how can that happen if people do no not hear that terrific news? And how will people hear if no one goes to them? That is why we are joyful this Christmas. That is why we are going to Zimbabwe. Jesus.

You'll find enclosed a picture of our family. If you're inclined to do so, we ask for your prayers while we're overseas. While we celebrate the birth of Jesus, it is our hope that you will find your deepest needs met in Him this holiday season.

Wishing You and Your Family a Very Merry Christmas!

Love, Paul, April and Abigail McQuillen

paulandaprilmcquillen@gmail.com

Follow our story at: mcquilleninternational.blogspot.com

International Phone Number: (816) 368-1120

Our "prayer card" looks like this: