"I have long dreaded the thought of getting to the end of life and regretting that I allowed my own timidity or other people's expectations to determine the course of my life. I decided that several of my beliefs should determine the course of my life...I believe that the Creator, has an epic script into which my minute presence has been written." - Steve Saint
This year I am teaching a class in a Co-Op about the Human Body. I thought it would neat for the kids to see how the digestive system worked from beginning to end. Therefore, we built it! It was quite disgusting and I nearly "tossed my cookies" pouring the liquid out of our "stomach" but here is what we did...
1.) We started with a peanut butter sandwich. We talked about how our teeth bite it into smaller pieces. Josh tore it into bite-size pieces and placed it into our make-shift mouth - a large ziploc bag.
2.) We added our saliva (water) and then we "chewed" it up. The kids pounded the bag of sandwich with a hammer. 3.) After our sandwich turned into a thick mush, we dropped it down the esophagus (a paper towel tube) and into our stomach (our mega-power Vitamix blender.) The stomach was filled with acid to help break down the sandwich before it entered the intestines. The acid was mixed with vinegar and baking soda and was waiting in our blender before the stomach mush arrived! 4.) The stomach started churning - peanut butter, bread, saliva water, vinegar, and baking soda swirling around. If you look at the kids' faces you can tell that this part was disgusting - and it smelled horrible! 5.) We looked at the bile mixture in our stomach and prepared to feed it through the intestines. Franklin is getting his gloves on because he will be our "sphincter muscle." 6.) We started feeding the mixture from our stomach into the intestines. The intestines were made of panty-hose and the "gloved" participants squeezed out the nutrients. Yes, they had to squeeze the outside of the pantyhose while the sphincter muscle continued to hold it in until it was time to "drop it in the potty."
7.) The sphincter muscle released all of the waste that was left and "poo-pooed" in the potty! Here is a picture of me holding the remainder of the peanut butter sandwich. I guess I am holding our created "feces."
We are a family who loves Jesus. We have followed him to the faraway land of Ghana, West Africa. We know He led us here for His purpose - for His name to be great among the nations. (Psalm 46:10) We are here for His glory alone.
By sharing a glimpse into our lives through our posts we give this permanent disclaimer: Nothing written here is to exalt ourselves. We desire for everything we do, say, think, write, or share to be for God's glory alone. We know this life is not about us, and do not ever wish to make it so. We are not trying to share our "experience." We are not trying to pose for pictures. We are not trying to make you think we are doing something we are not. We are broken, imperfect people made complete through the grace of Christ. There is nothing special about us - except the Lord we follow. We want all glory, honor, and praise to go to whom it is due - Jesus.
Sometimes we may write things that are hard to read. It's not our purpose to offend anyone or impose guilt. Life in Ghana is vastly different from life in America. Sometimes when you read about the struggles of your fellow brother, we hope you are propelled to pray. This blog is our avenue to share how God is revealing more of His heart to us. In the process, God allows us to see deeper into our own. It gets ugly sometimes. We are humbled that He has allowed us to be hands and feet of His work. For this, we rejoice in God's boundless grace.
If you accept the terms of this blog - please feel free to read and enjoy. It's not about us.
"But as for me, God forbid that I should boast about anything except for the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ. The world has been crucified to me through him, and I have been crucified to the world." - Galatians 6:14
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1 comment:
I so didn't need to know that. Seriously. TMI, Mrs. Beebe, LOL.
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