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Season Of Funk
A season of funk has besieged the Pettengill home. A cloud of gloom has settled over our charmed lives. Don’t worry our trusty prayer partners. This malaise should NOT be interpreted as a “throwing in the towel” moment. Far from it. It’s just hard.
Here is a recap:
- In late July we had a very difficult week. In less then seven-days our home was violently burglarized and Mike was forced to fire a dozen Honduran employees because of a lack of finances.
- Also in July Mike began to experience an odd illness that caused constant numbness in his left arm and a massive reduction of strength. The illness continues to this day.
- At the end of August one of our favorite Honduran teens, George, quit high school and walked away from the scholarship we were providing for him.
- In the middle of November Erin’s 69-year-old mother died. This caused many emotions in our family, not the least of which was guilt…how could we be so far away while our family suffers?
- Throughout November Mike’s arm problem got worse and turned into a daily battle with constant pain that deprives him of mobility and sleep.
This has been a hard season for us. One might even go as far as saying it has been the most challenging period in the 19-year history of our family. We’d love to say that through the grace of God, the love of friends and our strength of character we just picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off and we wake up every morning with an old timey hymn on our lips. But, sorry, that’s just not true. It’s not all unicorns and rainbows.
We have cried. We have prayed. We have hugged. And, we have struggled. Don’t worry. This post is NOT a precursor to us being placed on suicide watch or the first sign of us coming off the mission field. However, it IS the truth.
Satan has attacked our family, our team and our ministry. To God’s glory we will emerge from this. By God’s mercy we will heal. Through God’s grace we will again fall in love with each day He gives us.
But, right now we humbly come before our friends, family and prayer warriors. Our hats are in our hands and our tear streamed faces ask for help. Will you please spend time on your knees and ask our perfect Father to heal our hearts and help us again enjoy the great privilege He has given us to be His servants.
