Dropbox Tutorial (for sharing photos)

I think I can speak for a number of us when I say that our day to day life 

is an interesting adventure from the kitchen to the computer.

One day I'm fine tuning the basics of making Perishky or pinching Zwieback

and the next I'm trying to figure out how to upload a video  to share

or how to send a whack of photos to someone.

One moment we may be planning a menu on a group email

and the next moment the plan is put in place on a shared google document.

Like I said in my last post . . . installing a new gadget on my computer can be 

time consuming when I do not understand the way the steps are explained online. 

It's very much like learning another language and, unless I have need of it, I will not learn it. 

Dropbox has been one of those things I had to learn recently and,

  although the process, first time around, took me a few hours, 

in the end . . . once I knew what to look for and when to right click

 it only took a few minutes.

So, no more flash drives and trying to figure out how to get that to the right person.

First off, you need to install Dropbox by following the prompts.  This is a free service. Once that is done you will find the Dropbox icon on your taskbar for quick access.  Here you see it on the left sidebar in my Pictures.

The idea is that you can send a file via drop box by sharing the link with whomever you wish. Only the ones you share the link with will be able to access it.

So, first you need to create the folder. I like to choose my photos from my Picasa and then export them to a folder in my Pictures. You can also go straight to Pictures and open a new folder,  copying and pasting the photos you want to share into that folder.

Once you have chosen the photos in Picasa and clicked Export, you will get this pop up. You can rename the folder or just leave it and then click on Export.

It will take you to your Pictures where your exported/new folder will be highlit. Right click on this folder and you will get a pop up with a number of options. Click on Move to Dropbox.

Okay... now check the taskbar at the bottom of your screen and you will see Dropbox  . . .Click on it.

It will take you back to the Dropbox library/folder. Look for your new folder, right click on it and open it. You will see the photos uploading. Once they have uploaded they will have a checkmark on them.

When they are all uploaded go back (to Dropbox) and right click on the folder name. Then click to Share Dropbox link.

Now you have to look quick or you miss it . . . a bubble will show up (highlit) above the bottom bar for just a second . . . Click on the bubble. If you missed it or wish to send it later, go to the dropbox icon on the taskbar (dropbox.com), click on your file and right click option to share link.

You will see the link with the photos. 

Click the Share button on the top right.

The pop up will give you the link. You do not need to worry about that. Just put in the email of the person you wish to share with and send. That's it. At least that is how I got it . . . possibly coming in the back door.

PS I did only a few photos for the example, but the idea here is that you can easily share way more photos than you'd send in an email. Great for sharing with family and friends who live out of town. To save free space, you can delete the link after the time you choose. To learn more about dropbox in general, check out this video with Anson Alexander, but don't forget to let me know if this was helpful. 

When It's All Greek

I've been getting an error sign on my Picasa, the program I use to store and edit my photos. When a good friend, who is smarter than I am, suggested I google it or look up Picasa help line, I thought I'd be brave enough to try it, despite knowing that usually those explanations end up being all Greek to me. As per my experience, I understood just enough to come to the conclusion that I need someone with a whole lot more know how than I have. Strong indications about my files having been compromised and downloading another program is beyond my sphere of trying to fix problems. I balk at the word "download" in general, be it an app on my phone or whatever. Does this fear show my age or what?

Somehow, before anything gets fixed, I have a strange feeling that all I know is about to change as a newer version will most likely come into play . . . and I don't like it. I just want everything back to how it was and stay the same. I guess that would be a general feeling when anything that we really like or love breaks.

Yet, with technology, it seems there is only one thing that is certain. One thing that does not change . . . and that is that change is imminent.  In the end the new thing is the thing we do not want to change. But it will.

Defining Evangelism

image library-trek-papua

In search of some kind of photo to put the reader into this tribal setting, I came across images of tribal Papuans just too disturbing to post, so I chose this simple hut. In Lords of the Earth, the author describes Yali huts (homias) like this one with a wooden spike sticking up out of the roof to keep the sky from falling directly on the roof. Now I'm not sure if that was just a response to a child's question, but ancient tribal superstitions and fetishes do run deep in the stories that unfold in the book.

There have been those who may have some trouble with missionaries trying to bring a different belief system to people in order to change the way they live. Hundreds of years ago Pope Gregory III declared that those of other religions are, after all, seeking God and that we should accommodate their beliefs. Maybe this sounds good in theory but missionaries who had to deal with the sinister side of paganism found the problems not so easily resolved in their conscience. In contrast, others have found the chasm between paganism and Christianity so wide that it looked to be  an unbridgeable abyss. 

When Stan Dale lived among to the Yali people with a message that left little room for cultural accommodation, it hit many of them hard, and yet to those who accepted the message of forgiveness and left a life bound up in fear it was freeing indeed. To put it harshly, Yali religion was a system based upon evil and harmful beliefs simply held to for fear of losing one's life, especially for women and children.

As a reader I did appreciate the instances where Stan and his wife found illustrations from the culture to help toward understanding of the Christian faith, few as they found. The Yali used to look up at a rainbow and, seeing the red band, would say, 'See! There is blood! Who has died?" This gave Stan the opportunity to tell them of God's own Son who died and shed His blood for our sins, and how God put His bow in the sky - a bow with no string - as a sign of His mercy.

As for reaching women who had never been allowed to hear of anything spiritual, it took a long time to build a bridge of trust. When they were invited to hear the words of God (in their minds, another kembu), they were horrified, yet intrigued by this smiling, vivacious woman named Pat. I enjoyed how she found a way to apply  the story of Mary and Martha to their culture by telling them of how the Son of the greatest Spirit of all visited a homia where two sisters lived. One was busy preparing the food and complained while the other sat at the Son's feet and questioned Him about sacred things. The women listening thought that the sister's rebuke was earned, yet Pat continued to tell them that the Son defended Mary in her desire to know Him better. She told the women that it was their privilege to chose to hear the words of God and it should not be taken away. In the same way she explained how Jesus welcomed children to come to Him. Another foreign concept, as children in their culture could be drowned for even innocently stepping on holy ground. I could see how wonder of wonders was born in their hearts as Pat taught and modeled truth before their eyes.

I've heard it said that "he who does not know another language, does not truly  know his own." The story of how the Yali religion compares to my personal faith, helps me to see once again the freedom God has called us to. A love where perfect love casts out fear. What more can I say? I've now written a book.

From Peace Child to Lords of the Earth

It was in the decade that I graduated from high school that the book Peace Child by missionary author Don Richardson was published. I'm not even sure anymore if my memories of the story come from reading the book or seeing the movie. It could be I held our firstborn babe in my arms as I read about this tribe and place that told an amazing story but held no personal meaning. All of it was pushed way back in my memory until recently when I put it all together. Our daughter now lives where that book was born.

I mentioned this to the friend I walk with recently and she lent me a subsequent book written by the same author, Lords of the Earth. To be honest, by the looks of it, I would not have picked it up to read had it not been for the connection I now have to this place.

Above you see New Guinea in relation to Australia

The island is divided into two parts (countries): 

the western half consists of the most eastern provinces of Indonesia,

now known as West Papua and Papua, (formerly Irian Jaya)

bordering the country of  Papua New Guinea

Chris and Julene live near the arrow . . .

a little closer to the border.

Lords of the Earth is a story of missionary Stan Dale who ventured deep into the Heluk Valley in Irian Jaya's interior mountains to live with the Yali tribe, the customs and beliefs of which I found very disturbing to read, never mind to even write about.The cover of the book describes them as "naked cannibals who call themselves lords of the earth -  yet in terror and bondage serve women-hating, child despising gods."  If the weather caused crop failure or sickness came into a family, these gods, kembu spirits, had to be appeased at any cost. "The protection money these spirits exacted was often grievous  . . . (so much so that) Yali men eons earlier found it necessary to exclude women from all matters of religion."

There was enough to make me realize the need for these people to know about the freedom found in the gospel of Jesus Christ. But how?  Against overwhelming odds, Stan and his wife, worked on learning the language and zealously prayed and labored to bring understanding, if possible, through redemptive analogies found in their culture; their sacrifice not without terrifyingly agonizing experiences of being misunderstood. Yet, at the end of the story a grieving Yali father confided in his wife, saying, "If this message had come earlier, our little girl . . . need not have died."

This book has allowed me to see more clearly how our family, living there, follows on the heels of many missionaries who have gone before them and opened the way by building airstrips and making communication and help possible to many tribes. It is their greatest joy to continue to bring help to unreached people, be it through practical help, involving flights or through illustrations done for children's Sunday School curriculum, still in the process of being translated into tribal languages.

On our Anniversary

                                                                                                                    beatrizphotography

With gratefulness on this special day, 
I'll copy the words of Diane Warren

made famous by Canadian artist, Celine Dion . . .

For all those times you stood by me
 For all the truth that you made me see
 For all the joy you brought to my life 

For all the wrong that you made right 

For every dream you made come true 

For all the love I found in you 

I'll be forever thankful baby 

You're the one who held me up 
Never let me fall
You're the one who saw me through it all

You were my strength when I was weak
You were my voice when I couldn't speak
You were my eyes when I couldn't see
You saw the best there was in me
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach
You gave me faith 'cause you believed
I'm everything I am
Because you loved me.

The words that especially stand out are "you gave me faith 'cause you believed" . . .

yes . . . so much of what I am, is what you saw in me.

I love you . . . forever my H

Lakehouse Gathering

The cabin at the lake became "the lakehouse" after a major renovation a few years ago, but whatever we each may call it, it has been a gathering place. To the first and second generation a place to gather the autumn harvest and to the third and fourth a place to gather as family.

When we arrived on Monday right after lunch, Bob was already there with his grandsons 

. . . cleaning up and enjoying the ride.

I'm thankful for this place . . .

for cousins to meet up

and second cousins to make connections.

I'm thankful for Abe, who used to be a special family friend and neighbor  . . .

now part of the family.

And for my mom who now has the joy of holding her great-grandchildren in her arms.

By late afternoon the outside did not look so inviting any more

but inside the lakehouse it was warm and friendly.