The Longest Kilometer, PART 2 (Storming the Beach)

April 4, 2008, 0801hrs Thursday

I miss my Eddy! He's gone, just yesterday, and I'm sleeping in a guest bed in his uncles house. Wow what a cool family I've woke up to. Actually, I only woke up to meet them for a moment, and retreated quickly to my room to have a quiet morning decompressing. There is so much to write about, remember, reflect, and share. I want to tell the story, but wonder if there just isn't too much. Nevertheless, where I am in the middle of now, I wish to spare no detail. Because when I left this story a week ago I was standing on the bank of a river, with the great reeds and briar forest of the Odeceixe crossing behinnd me, America and the Atlantic ocean 200 meters to my right, and the river directly ahead . It was still March 8, and there was another choice, which was to go left. Going left meant waling upstream and hoping that a bridge would eventually present itself to cross.
This seemed like the sensible thing to do. We were tired, annoyed, ready to find ourselves in Odeceixe, ready for a beer and a good meal, ready to find Saskia, ready to see our hopes fulfilled of warm dry beds, ready for showers, laughs, and good times. We were ready, but we were not there yet. We truly did not even know if that existed. We really had only one true hope on which we could rely, the provision of God.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. So what happens when the evidence becomes seen? Faith goes away. Hope is realized, The evidence that was once unseen is now seen.
At that time, standing on the river beach, what I could see was that the day was windy and still getting darker. It was not the nice sunny day on the beach good for a swim. The day had gone from hazy to grey, to dark day.
Now at dark day, Eddy did not want to take a nice walk up stream. He wanted to get to the beach on the other side and intended us to cross right through the river to do it. I again nominated Eddy who was the originator of these great ideas to lead the way and scout the river.
The current was strong but the river crossable. Crossable that is if you could manage to find the shallow way across so that the water comes up no further than the hair on your beard.
Eddy stripped himself down to his drawers and waded in. the Odeceixe beach was just ahead of him. This your already know. But what I forgot to say was that on the side of the river we now stood, there were several campers enjoying their trailers in the lot just to our backs. Our wild manner of appearance should have caught their eye promptly. Had they maintained their curious inspection, they would have chuckled their way through a 45 minute adventeure sure to break up the monotony of trailer life.
Eddy was in the water up to his ankles. From the river side I could see his back tense up, his shoulders shrug, his ribs ripple with his gasps and quick - hard breathing, and his legs tense up. His goose bumps were so big, I could even see them from where I stood ashore. Red blotches were also visible up and down his back and legs. The water must have been cold.
So I watched apprehensively as he waded on in, with his arms out as he slowly picked his balance among the sharp stones. As he made it up to his waste, there was more shivering, and I could see him wrestling the current as he looked for a way across the beach.
I'll spare you the rest, only to say the crossing was too deep. His beard got wet along with his ears and eyeballs. After making it to the otherside, he tried again, returning at a different point. that was still too deep. He retreated and looked for another place. After other tries, he finally found one a short distance up stream. He also gashed his toe on a rock as he worked his way down stream to collect his things.
After relocating our bags and gear up to the crossing, Eddy took off across the river with the first load of supplies. Meanwhile, I got undressed. It was now my turn to get cold and wet.
The first trip was the most painful. First the at the feet, then at the ankles, then I was okay till the knees. For some reason, the surface always feels the coldest... it is that first couple of centimeters meeting the body for the first time that bring your teeth to bite your tongue, and your eyes to roll into the back of your head. Actually, that wasn't my reaction at all. I wish I could say I managed with such dignity and grace. I sounded more like an out of breath cow, moaning my way in as i went deeper into the cold steady current. At my waste I began gasping, "Balls! Balls! Balls!"over and over again. (I wish I could say it wasn't true, but I'd be lying.) After finally making it to the otherside and then standig up finally on the cold windy beach of Odeceixe, with the air moving brisk beneath my arms and at my waste and legs... cooling the water clinging to them, I lost all shyness with the cold river and quickly made my way back in. Swimming now with my hands free of goods, I began to increase my speed so that by the end I actually lapped Eddy having begun last, but finishing first.
So quickly now I was working -trying to run but with no success. I wobbled unstable trying to balance my bare feet on the sharp stones beneath me. And making my way on shore for the next load of everything I own. I don't remember how many loads we had to carry, although I think it was about 5 or 6, which meant 10 or 12 trips across the river.
When it was all over, I wasted no time working to dry off without a towel... I think I used my sweater. then putting warm clothes back on over my cold wet speedos.
Once dressed, laughing we caught our breath and celebrated the storming of the beach head by exploring the beach, and watching the sunset.
I went up into the village and spoke to a local bar keeper who said that Saskia's Taska was in Odeceixe village about 3km from there. When I met up with Eddy, he had already met another local with 5 dogs who said he knew Saskia and would drive us to her Taska. By the time we got in his car the wind was blowing hard enough to stagger me side ways. The clouds were thicker and darker and thoughI had felt sprinkles from time to time throughout the afternoon, I felt the first big drops of rain just before we got in the car.
So nice to find a roof over your head, and a warm ride for tired bodies just in the nic of time... Bless God.

The Longest Kilometer, PART 1

March 27, 2008-Thursday 1054hrs.
My apologies for stopping that last cast as abruptly as I did. Eddy came in just as I was completing my description of the beautiful cliffs of Portugal´s Atlantic coast. Now is two days later, and there is even more to catch up on. It may be useful for you just to get used to this format of up to the minute reporting prose followed by flash backs. At least it may be appealing to those of you who like to be kept on your toes.

Presently I am sitting in a green forest situated on a mountainside less than 30km from Barcelona. Eddy is passed out in the back of the station wagon and probably doesnt realise I abandoned him temporarily to escape from heavy traffic and write to you. Eddy was driving all night from SanPedro to somewhere off of Spain´s East coast where he woke me up to watch the sunrise before crashing in the back.

So I have today driven my first 100km in Europe thus finally braving European rotaries. About an hour ago I found myself seeing mountain tops with trees on them. For much of the trip the mountains have been covered in sparse scrub bushes. But this a-dopt from Asheville has lush green in his heart. I found myself moving slow with a long line of traffic stacked up ahead of me, and the engine was getting hot. So when I saw the dirt road leading up into the mountain, I knew what to do.

Now, in the quiet morning, beneath the trees, I can close my eyes for a moment and remember the coast of Portugal -- The wind whistling past my ears, the sun laying warm cutting through the cool hard breeze, the bushy green vegetation at my feet, and waves crashing on jagged rocks 20 meters below.

It was March 8th on a Saturday afternoon. Eddy and I were fresh from a good mid day nap and probably had sardines with bread and cheese that day up on the rock. Perhaps not even a kilometer away from there we found ourselves looking down at Odeceixe from the cliffs above. We were excited to finally make it to Odeceixe. We did not know anyone form there, but we knew someone who knew someone from there. Our good friend Nunno said there was an old friend who had a bar there. He said that when we made it into town we should just ask around and people will know where to send us. We were tired and ready for a break from the trail. I was looking forward to a real bed at least for one night, a shower, a nice meal, possibly some internet time, and good conversation.

Something told me that the weather was changing as well, and it was time to get indoors. Though the sun was still high and bright, the wind was getting colder, and I could see patches of dark clouds above. After a long look at the beach below, we decided we were ready to be on it. But there was a problem... how were we to get down there? Not only was there a cliff we had to climb down, but Odeceixe beach was bordered by the Atlantic ocean to the East, and a 40 meter wide river to the North. We found our way, but it proved to be the toughest km of the whole trip. My tarp still has holes to sew.

The first task was to get off the cliff. There was a dirt road to follow safely somewhere that probably led 3km inland to a bridge... a nice hike through private pasture land into Odeceixe. Eddy decided quickly to abandon that idea. He wanted the beach and before too long would find himself drawing blood to get it. As we walked a little ways down the pasture land road, he kept looking toward Odeceixe, and over the ledge of the rock. He made a couple of attempts along the side of the river from where we stood 20 meters above the beach. However, the cliff face was just too steep to descend with full packs. One or two hectares up stream Eddy

<>

1154hrs
I just saw, in a window through the trees, that there is still traffic below. So I´ll just sit at the wheel and write. I really want to finish this story. So what was I saying?

Right!

Our packs wer too heavy to climb down steep cliffs to get to the river. But Eddy kept looking for a way down. About 2 or 3 hectars into the pasture, the road had taken us through a tiny forest and away from the ridge of the cliff. Eddy wanted to cross a fence and go check for a good path down. I first of all was not so crazy of taking the hard quick way to the beach. I also am very hesitant about crossing fences. Getting caught tresspassing may be one good way to be thrown out of Shenghen. I told Eddy that he could go scout out the ridge and when he walks a good way down the trail and knows it will work, I´ll risk crossing fenced pasture to suit his fancy.

Eddy crossed the barbed wire fence and returned soon reporting that he had found an old trail. So now I was obliged to keep my word. I threw our bags over and hopped the barb wire fence into lush green grass.

Even though we were far out of sight of the coast the wind was as strong as ever and the tempeature was slowly dropping. The sun was hidden now and the dark clouds were gathering thicker, and as we rounded the pasture standing now just at the trail head, I felt the first drops of rain in two weeks. Rainfall did not actually happen until later on in the evening, but it spent the rest of the afternoon telling us it was coming.

Eddy and I had not got around but the second turn in the trail when it came to an end. I rolled my eyes. We backed up and started again. Eddy leading this time we made it a little further, but only far enough that we decided we did not want to turn back. Had I knew then what I know now, we would have turned back. Soon we found ourselves trapped with thick virtually impassible brush tangled with hard large black berry thorns on all sides. I wasn't cold anymore. I was getting hot and bloodied in the thorny thicket. Occaisionally I could here my tarp snagging on bushes behind me, and I had wondered if it was alright. It is not alright, and to that end I have work ahead of me uninstalling the sprinkler system put in my house that day. Eddy heroically beat down bushes ahead as I followed behind in such an unhelpful way as to say, "Okay, you wanted to go this way, you figure out how to get us through it." I tried to limit ny level of frustration by popping off cheeky remarks concerning our predicament and Eddy did his best to ignore them.

At about half way down the face of the slope (The gradient was scalable now, just completely overgrown), Eddy pulled out his little knife (Oh what we could have done with a machetti!) and began slowly cutting through the bush. At this point our traffic had gone from a slow shuffle to a dead halt. The rest of the way down the slope Eddy and I had to cut our way through the brush. It might as well have been like boaring a path through a bowl of dry spaghetti at least two meters high and two hectars deep.

We found ourself actually crossing a stream under all the scrub, but we did not get wet for the thick vegetation holding us suspended about 20 cm above the ground. On another occaision, we did not know rather to go right or left. That was tricky, because we finally decided on straight. However not before I instructed Eddy right which plunged Eddy into a one and a half meter pit of briars.

Not long (relatively speaking) after Eddy climbed out of the pit, we reached the bottom of the slope... we thought. Now all we had to do was climb through the reeds and we were home free. Climbing through the reeds is easier said than done. I did not know this before, but what I learned that day was that climbing through reeds is not the same as running through a bamboo forest like in the movie

March 25, 2008 Tuesday, 2239hrs

The room is smoky; the beer- almost cold. The streets are quiet, but just enough cars and occasional people as to keep one from solitude, but still creepy; and I know for sure I should not be here. Eddy is across the street spending, in my opinion, too much money in an expensive internet café. What is expensive? -More than free. At least for me it is expensive, but in my opinion the internet should be free, I do not want to finance inconvenience. (Okay, not well said, but I have no interest to go deeper into that soap box here, and probably neither do you.)
Anyway it gives me some time to collect my thoughts…at least the first time perhapse since recording my last pod cast when Eddy and I were up on the cliffs of Portugal overlooking the Atlantic. That was over two weeks from now, and a lot has happened since.
Now I sit in a back street bar in Racquetas Del Mar. There is a half full beer (half of .25l) on the table, Phil Keaggy blares through my ear buds over the loud but otherwise not so unpleasant Spanish fusion in the background, but I am trying to escape for a moment.
A brief escape is good but not before I say more of this area, for it is an interesting mix of Spanish, Spanish gypsies, Africans from all over the continent coming to work in huge plastic covered fields of genetically altered produce. There are also a great many Romanians coming to work, but I’m not sure; they seem to be more in positions of skilled workers: running shops, bars, and one I know who is working in Mc Donalds. Closer to the beach are German and British tourists, and one wealthy sheik whose domed style house sticks out among the many block style hard angled houses with traditional rippling red ceramic roofs.
Tomorrow is Wednesday, and I have Wednesday in my pocket. This means financially I’m catching up to breaking even. For the last week I had Tuesday in my pocket, and I was actually able to hold that for over four days. This particular form of speech is how I am keeping up with finances these days. This summer, I am trying to live off of 10 Euro a day. To give you an idea what this is like, most things numerically cost the same here as they do in the states. 10 Euro headphones for example are $10 .00 in the states. Anyone who has been watching the Euro grow in strength can imagine the hard time that can give and American traveller. The smart thing would be to exchange my life savings for Euros as quickly as possible, but I have no where to keep this small bundle safe. Meanwhile there are ATM fees to pay for withdrawing cash. So, as it stands now, I have one hundred fifty days to live on 10 Euros a day till my money runs out… This is a rough estimate.
It is cool to take stock like this and to see God is continuing to be faithful in meeting my needs above my means. This has been a great encouragement to me.

Last week we put our thumbs away and took buses to catch us up geographically to where the calendar had dictated our positions. We had hoped to be in Racquetas del Mar by the 20th of March to celebrate Easter with friends of Eddy´s and join in the march for Jesus that Sunday. We made it, but I had to dig into my pocket for near a one week advance to pay for bus tickets to make it happen. We also found generous benefactors in Odeceixe and Malaga who helped us on our way with a little extra cash.
Tomorrow we will be on our way to Germany in a car with gas paid for by the owners.
To catch you up to tomorrow is the purpose of this blog. It may take as many as three entries or more to get it all down, but our journey begins on the coast of Portugal between Zambujera and Odeceixe, on the cliffs about 20 meters above the Atlantic. (Queue the harp music for the flashback sequence.)
It was a windy Saturday afternoon by my reckoning,it was the 8th of march, and we had been taking our time spending two days walking south over looking the most stunning pieces of the Lords creation that I may have ever seen first hand. Rifle Colorado is fabulous, and Utah is quite amazing. The Appalachian in Asheville’s backyard is wonderful. I have not yet seen Yellowstone, and okay the Grand Canyon is over the top. But it doesn’t matter. Others may have their own opinions. As for my experience, these cliffs off the Portuguese coast overlooking the Atlantic brought me further into wonder and amazement than did the cliffs of Zion National Park. The competition is not important. It is the wonder of the majesty of the creator by his created when he stands tiny; cautiously overlooking waves crashing up to meet him from the rock 20 meters below as the wind requires him much attention to stay atop the cliff without at least losing his hat. The water green, the sand tan, the sky blue with delicate wisps of cloud accompanying a brilliant yellow sun, warming black rocky faces with occasional sand rims and bright green tops adorned with various colours of flora; …Yes, now I understand the hyped up adds. This is paradise on earth.

Podcast posting with podbean

I have been receiving requests from others to tell them how to post their own podcasts. I guess the only credibility I have for this is that I am extremely amature when it comes to podcast posting, so maybe it helps making it simple.

So here goes my very nontechnical and laughable instructions.
IN order to post a podcast, you just need a way to store it for public access on the internet. There are many platforms for this. The one I use is Podbean, but I am sure there are others. So, for the sake of this excersize one can just go to Podbean and set up an account by clicking the 'sign up' link found at the top of the www.Podbean.com website. The free account allows for 100 minutes of audio storage, which should be enough for the beginner to experiment with. From there, fill in the blanks like the first time you set up your hotmail or yahoo account. The next step will give you options to design your page with profile pictures and what not.

Once you have set up your account, you are ready to post a created mp3 Podcast.
After signing in to Podbean from the www.podbean.com home page, click the green tab that says 'Publish a Podcast.' This will take you to a page called 'Dashboard' where you can click on 'Publish a new show'. Here is a screen that looks like a place to send an e-mail. Here you can enter tags that help people interested in certain things like "underwater trains" or "tattooing domesticated plantlife" find your podcast if you should tag it with such words. You also get to title the podcast here, and post a long or short blog along with the podcast. Below the box that says post is where you can add your podcast from an mp3 file that you have stored somewhere on one of your computer drives.

In order to do this you have to upload the mp3 to your account. For this you need to look near the top of the page and click on the word that says "upload." When the next page opens, click on the big upload button in the middle of the page. When that page opens, you will see a box that says "Uplaod files to your account." In the "upload files box" there is a button that in German says "Durchsuchen..." When you clike on this button, windows explorer, or Finder for mac should open. When it opens, you can select the mp3 file you want to post. After selecting the mp3, you may have to click okay or enter, or some other button (in german it is the one that says "Öffnen"... I think.) After you have found and selected the file for loading, it should appear in the talkbox in the middle of your screen just above the upload button. Press the upload button, and your mp3 will begin to upload. This should take some time. It is important to just let the uploadder do its job without any interruptions. It takes I think longer to upload a podcast than download one.

I am a little fuzzy on this part as I am not uploading a podcast for this walk through. However, I think when the upload is complete it should take you back to the screen with the big upload button on it. All that really matters is that you know that the upload was successful, which you can be sure of if you can get back to the page with the big upload button in the middle of it (that is the page you are probably already on) and there in the current media files box you should see your file listed.

If the file is listed you are ready to move on. If it is not, look to someone else to help you decifer my confusing instructions so that finally the file appears as it should.

Once you are ready to proceed, the next thing you need to do is to click on "Publish" near the top of the page. This page should be familiar to you by now. In order to publish the podcast you just uploaded, you need to look a little more than half way down the page to a box that says "Podcasting". Just below this should be a box that says "no file selected". Click on the down arrow button just to the right of the "no file selecetd box", and select the file you just uploaded. Now this file should appear in the box where it used to say "no file selected".

Now if you are finished entering all the text fields (tag, title, and post) you should be ready to publish your first podcast. So when you are ready to publish, just click the button at the bottom of the screen that says "Publish>>"

Wait now just a moment for the computer to publish the post. The next page you will be on will look a lot like the page before, however at the top you will now see a blue box saying Post saved! view site>>. Click on view site>> to see and listen to your published podcast.

Al ist klaar?

have fun.

Let me know if this has helped you.

new podcasts on podbean

Hello, everyone. Eddy and I have been in Odeceixe this week. I am posting some new podcasts of our travels we have stored up over the last couple of weeks. You can find them by checking out the leathersandal podcast link down on the right side of the screen, or going to www.leathersandal.podbean.com.

Enjoy.

Love to ya

Gonna write really quickly to say I have posted a new blog... Obviously, your are reading it. But actually, It takes to long to type and I have less computer access. So I am now doing voice blogs and posting them as podcasts on Podbean. So, click on the leathersandal podcast link on the right, or go to leathersandal.podbean.com, and listen to my latest. I am taking off with Eddy today down south and then bumming it around Europe. So that is the quickest in a sentance.

Pictures!! There are also new pictures posted on old blogs. You will have to go back to September's blogs to see them. I want to post some new ones, but my camera is left in Olieros, and I have no way to get it. So, anyone care to send me a dig cam when I get to Germany? Hope to make it there by April.

Enjoy the voice.

Happy thanksgiving and greetings to all. I know that I have not blogged in a while, but I really don't have much to say now. I am wintering... that is it. I love this little piece of land I hardly ever leave. It is like a fallen garden of Eden. There is piece, quiet, provision, and time for me to seek out the Lord. Still, I want more of this time... guess it will be granted tomorrow:).

I did get out recently to go to a Portuguese punk show with Barbara. It was pretty cool to see the local scene and it's kids. Barbara has a lot of hopes to reach out with love toward these kids and the scene. Still, we are putting most of our focus at this time on our own spiritual walk, and the daily needs of the land. (If I may speak for Barbara, that is).

I wrote a friend recently, and out of that I thought I would post the following:

How are you?

I have been slaving away here in Portugal. No, not really, but we have been on the task of picking olives for the last two weeks. We finished today. We got a lot of olives. However, Barbara estimated that with how much we got it should come out to a whopping 25 liters of olive oil. Which at 5 euro per liter comes out to about 125 euros cash for out harvest. We still have to sort the olives and pick out the bad ones. So, what do you think? Care to buy a liter of olive oil at the fare trade price? I don't know what that should be, but I am thinking I am half way done and have put in 80 dollar days for the last two weeks. It could take another two weeks to sort them, we'll see. (actually we spent a week and should be done tomorrow, Thanksgiving)

Anyway, enough about the olives. I have been spending the rest of my time poring over the pages of Knowing God by JI Packer. I think it is a lot better read the second time than the first. It is a great season of working out the stuff in my heart and seeking God's face in the quiet before the unknown summer ahead. I still look forward to a summer of bumming it through Europe. By that time I hope to have a 1 year visa secured, and so I hope to take advantage of it by really getting into the street scene. Before I do that though, I am taking advantage of the slow days here to listen and find the pulse of the Lord. I need more grace than I ever dreamed toward this end. As you pray for me, pray that all the time I spend standing in one spot watering cabbage before dinner may be used to the good end of listening for the the voice of the Lord. Also entreat him to supply my recent feelings of insecurity with a swift kick out of my psyche. Also, old sins are rearing their ugly head (though I've been 6 months free this week!), and I need the discipline to grow knowing how I should buffett my body.

As for Europe in general, now that my immediate visa needs are taken care of, I have till the end of January to get my next application into processing status. I need to apply for a 1 year residency if I am going to stay. In order to do this I need to email an American office of the Portuguese embassy. The first trick is getting in touch with that office, and it has been difficult. Pray that what ever frustrations are in this process, they will have their way in improving my character. Pray that all may be accomplished without me having to return to the states to finalize as this will be an expensive inconvenience.

Here for the Holiday season,
I will leave generous hearts with two things.
It is difficult to get almost anything in this part of Portugal. There are stores in town, but not many of the kind I would shop in. My parents are sending me a care package, and that is well anticipated with warmness of heart. For those who would though, I have a wish list registry on Amazon which I need to update, but later it will mostly be in tact as is now. Just don't buy the first item on the list. You can access the wishlist from the Amazon home page by searching 'leathersandal', and send the packages to:

Barbara Leite
Attn:Jared Dunham
A/C Presidente Junta Freguesia
Avenido 1*- Maio,74
6230-600 Povoa D'Atalaia

I am on an American keyboard, but where you see 1*-,
that should really look more like this
' o'
1-
so that you have a '1' and then a little circle like if you were writing one degree faranheit, and then under the circle there would be a hyphen or dash. Ha ha that is a lot of wierdness, isn't it. Also it is just fun to know that the post man does not come out to us. The mayor calls us when we have mail, and we go by his shop to pick it up. So um, don't send any drugs. :)

Second>
Also, I am still cushioned for money okay through the rest of winter. When I get back on the road however, I may have to find food in unsundry ways. I probably should not say that. God has been so faithful in providing everything, and he will continue even beyond my dying day. Still, I want to leave open the opportunity for those who want to participate in what I am doing.
After resting up this winter, I still intend to bum around Europe to get in touch with kids where they are at. I hope to be hitching through the mediterranean in the spring, then up through Switzerland to Germany as summer begins. I am looking forward to breaking and refreshing at Freakstock, spending some time in Berlin making some connections with a budding YWAM street ministry. There is Slotfest in Poland, which is a well known arts festival, and there will be rainbow gatherings to attend. From Poland I expect to check out Romania and get a good taste for Eastern Europe in the process. I can also see myself spending a lot of time all around Germany. I have an invitation to build a recumbent bicycle at a friends house in the south, and want to get back to Karlsruhe to regroup with friends I made on my last visit. These are just a brief of some of the things I am looking forward to next summer. Really it is a packed schedule that I have no intention on keeping so much as I have intention to meet and figure out what all the kids are up to. (more on that in a future blog). Finally, there is getting back to Amsterdam if I can manage it, and returning home to Portugal in time for the Olive Harvest. It should be a much better year for the olives next year.

All this traveling may just seem like 30 year old Huck Finn foolishness. Some of that is true, but I believe the Lord has something very meaningful in it which I am still postulating an address of in a coming blog (stay tuned, but don't expect it to be the next one). I see what is to come through the glass darkly, so even though I intend to do most of this with my thumb out, and my bed in the bush, I will still need finances to keep me going. I wanted to foot the bill like the street kids do it. But that requires panhandling and getting a monthly check from the government like in the states. I don't see such means applying for me, though this very blog seems like it is turning into a high tech transcontinental pan handle. So nothing further on that, I just wanted to let you know how this is all working itself in my head.

I'll make my exit from this post in this fashion:
If you are wondering how to enable this seeker of the Kingdom making his way through the dark places hoping to shine the light of the gospel, you can make out a check to: Life House Ministries, right my name in the designation line, and mail it to>
Life House Ministries
6209 E. 110th Street
Kansas City, MO 64134

May you have a blessed thanksgiving.