a bit more...cheery

After my last post I feel like I need to write something else. Something a bit more, I don't know, cheery? A bit of an upper? A bit of a "life's not really that bad" and happier note to read?

I've been looking for this opportunity for several days now. I have nothing greatly adventurous or profound to write. I'm at the computer, as usual, while Nede's finally fast asleep. The electricity just returned after a few hour outage. I'm sipping my tea and ready to crash into bed.

The last post I sort of slipped back into my "this is really hard here, why don't we care more" mode and now I'm trying to get back to the "praising Him in everything mode".

All I have to share today is a sweet moment I had. As usual on Monday evenings Rebecca and I had our prayer time. Nede wanted to join tonight. After talking to her that this is our special time of prayer, our time with God, she can't wiggle, giggle or make ANY noise, she agreed to sit quietly on my lap on my bed. As many know, Nede's got A LOT of energy. Her only "sometimes" on her last school report card was in regards to the category that said, "Can concentrate on one thing for 15 minutes...." Sometimes.

So to get the chance to convince her that she needs to just snuggle with me and sit and pray with me was a gift in itself. She did wiggle a bit as she tried to tie my Piggy Piggy up in knots (oops, I shared it, I made him public!:) With a gentle touch of my hands she settled and sat. Sat listening to the prayers of her Yaya (sister in Shona) and the long winded prayers of her mom. We then concluded with our Amen's and I asked, "Nede, do you want to pray?"
YES!
I was then not just thankful for the time of snuggling but also for the prayers of this child.

"Lord please touch Yaya so that she feels better. Be with Mommy. Thank you for everyone that we know. Be with everyone. Be with everyone we don't know too..." and it goes on in child-like-faith and I learn. And I love. And I praise HIM in...

Thankfulness 

XOXO

the stench of death

(WARNING: This is not a feel good message)

Today after I dropped Nede off at school I was driving home and there was a dead dog right in the middle of the road. It was as stiff as a board, rigamortis full blown. I felt annoyed that whoever had hit the poor thing had just left it right there. My next thought was, "the stench of death is just everywhere."

It's true. Yesterday I was in Macadeira visiting the pastors and caregivers that we're working with. I was speaking to one faithful woman who has corrdially welcomed me on every visit over the last 1 year +. I have a special liking of this lady because she some how reminds me of my aunt. I started talking to her yesterday about her life. Where do you live? Who do you live with?

Alone.
No husband.
No children. All 4 of her children have died.
ALL 4 OF HER CHILDREN HAVE DIED BEFORE HER.
She's not that old. No one really is here. With a life expectancy of 38, 42 years at best, I can't imagine watching ALL YOUR CHILDREN die.

My guard told me about someone in his family who had a sick child. This child was a twin and was admitted to the hospital. A few days later-- dead. Not unusual that just one twin survives.

The stench is everywhere.

"It's just a part of life." I've heard it hundreds of times. Yes, death is part of life. But I don't think it means we're not supposed to fight for life.


Jesus says in John 10:10 The thief comes only to steal and KILL and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. 


This stench of death unsettles me. It wears on me. I never want to get used to it because it comes directly from the "thief" and I walk with the one who has promised life, and not just life but life to the FULL.

I've seen more than dead dogs on the road. I quiver as I write just because of how wrong it is. How not "just a part of life" it should be. I can't even let my mind go back there. I heave.

I hope this never stops upsetting me. Until we live and believe that He has come that we may have "life and have it to the full" we better keep fighting because THIS should NOT just be a part of life. Not here, not anywhere. It's not okay.

It stinks here. The smell lingers.

We best get fighting.

the list

Thanksgiving. Praising God when it's not easy. Always being grateful. Through EVERYTHING.
These have never been my first nature reactions to difficult times. Even to mediocre times I would have to say.
Over the last 2 years, or should I say 4? I feel as if I'm to the point that I've got nothing left to try than to develop this habit of thanksgiving. To be fully alive, praising God and being grateful for every good thing in my life. "Every good and perfect gift comes from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17 As I've shared several times recently the book "One Thousand Gifts" and the authors blog aholyexperience.com have become pivotal in this new "discovery".

Counting my gifts, up to 1000, never stopping.
Praying for my eyes to be opened to see them.
To feel them.
To let them be enough for me to be happy.
For them to bring me to a deeper joy and contentment in this place that I find myself.

Nothing else has worked.
I've cried my ocean of tears.
I've written my pages of struggles.
I've begged and pleaded with the Lord.
I've tried to sleep it off.
It's not working. Nothing is working.

Today started differently. Now, I'll warn you (again), I'm no mega-spiritual person who has grandiose dreams and visions. This is me being simple and child-like, again.

155. My house has an open/revolving door.

- One of the things I love being here is that we're able to open our house up to almost any and everyone that passes through. Several times I've heard of people coming through town and I've been able to offer them a bed. In doing so, I've gained some really excellent friends and great support. When I came home from Zambia I returned to a house full of 5 women (days later it was 6) and 3 year old twins + Nede = chaos
Now, this is just background info to help you understand this morning.

156. Special surprises where you least expect them.

- Some weeks before I went to Zambia I took off one of the 2 rings that I always wear. And, underneath it I was having some weird fungal infection/eczema/skin breakdown, that I'd never had before. So, I took the ring off and put it on the window sill in the kitchen. Just before going to Zambia I wanted to wear it and I couldn't find it. I left without it. Upon my return, I thought I had remembered putting it "somewhere safe". For 3 weeks now I've been searching everywhere I could think of for this ring. Well...this morning I was making Nede's lunch for school and I found a half eaten bag of chips in the cupboard (remember I had 7 extra people in my house, I don't always know what I do and don't have), I had never eaten from this bag of chips, or seen it for that matter. As I open it up to empty the contents into a bag for Nede's lunch, there was my RING! I'll never know how that happened. I will always be thankful for:

157. "Mom, why did you put your ring inside there?"

158. Badly translated t-shirts from the market (see photo below)

159. Making construction paper chains to count down the arrival of visitors (my mom on June 15th)

160. Nede insisting on hanging things in the middle of the walkway.

(My shirt that makes me happy says: 

Happily

Camp in Summer

GREEN

it flies about

It Promises

Indefinitely)

This is it. This is my current approach. Writing my list and enjoying each little blessing that's writing this big story. And tonight I'm laughing and I haven't cried in days. Thank you Lord! Please keep teaching me to be thankful.

161. My favorite ring

zambia celebration

Here's another short video of the Hands at Work celebration that we attended in Zambia. Watching this reminds me what a privileged it is to be a part of something bigger-- for more children!

grace and mothers day

This week I read my favorite blog aholyexperience.com. O how I wish I could write like Ann Voskamp. I was deeply touched about her story of becoming a mom. I was moved at how her "normal" story of motherhood wasn't easy. Of course it wasn't. Being a mom must be one of, if not THE hardest job in the whole world. Yes, it's great but a lot of times it's hard! Really, really hard.

Waking up every morning to your daughter flipping on the light switch and announcing, "Mom! I have to go poo." This gets on my nerves.

Rushing her out the door, late for school again, I get annoyed when she says "let's race to see who gets their seat belt on first. NO, WAIT, WAIT..." as she get's her silver clip into it's notch and just before it makes the, latched "click", sound she says "GO! IT'S ME, IT'S ME!"

The same thing EVERY-single-DAY!

Answering, or trying to, 27 questions on the 10 minute drive to school
Talking to her about her behavior at school.
Talking to her about the behavior of others at school.
Playing games with her.
Disciplining her.
Cooking for her.
Cleaning for her.
Bathing her.
Driving her.
Paying for her.
Living here for her.
Being her friend.
Being her sibling.
Being her mom.
Being her dad.
The list could go on and on....you know.

You're never ready are you? Never in a million years did I plan to become a mom in the fashion I did. My experience isn't exactly a situation I played pretend about with my sister.

Today I worked at the clinic and sat with nearly 50 mothers and grandmothers. I looked them in the eye and asked how their baby's been in the last 2 weeks. I got frustrated when they couldn't explain their child's weight loss and I rejoiced when they said their child had had a negative HIV test.

I don't claim to know what it's like to be a mom in a village in Mozambique.

I also don't claim to know what it's like to be a soccer mom in the suburbs of America.

What I know first hand is that it's not easy. It's not easy anywhere.

Everyday I think about how my mom raised me-- with so much love, so much patience, so much grace. Everyday I know I'm not doing as good of a job as my mom did. EVERYDAY. Because this is just-not-easy. No where, for anyone. I don't think it gets easier when your children have grown either. I remember my mom telling me 2 years ago that she was having her most difficult year of being a mom. My sister and I were 30 and 34!

Tonight I just sit here in awe of the grace that's been bestowed upon me in having the mother I have. Grace. I can't explain it in any other way. I praise the Lord for His Amazing Grace in the gift of my mom. I ask for more Amazing Grace as I continue to learn how to be a mom and I ask for the MOST Amazing Grace for the mothers that I see every day in clinic as they watch their children suffer and they themselves suffer. They weren't ready for this either.

...this most important job in the whole world.

Being a mom and having a mom is an amazing gift covered with this AMAZING GRACE.

Mom, I hope I've made your life of being a mom as worth it as Nede has already made mine. I can't wait to hug you on June 15th. I can't wait for you to hug my daughter on June 15th. Please keep teaching me how to be a mom. Thanks for coming here on June 15th.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY

(the most current picture of my mom and sister and me-- my sister awaiting the quads in March of 2010)

a journey

I think I'll always remember the hike I was on with a friend in Arizona when I discovered something significant about my outlook on life. Sarah was 100% content and satisfied with wondering around and discovering the beautiful Sedona mountainside and I was frustrated we weren't finding the trail to the summit! She then commented something like "Is that what you're all about?  The destination? Not enjoying the journey?" I didn't have to think long when I realized that yes, I am always thinking about the destination. I rarely cherish the journey.
A short time later I was in my favorite coffee shop and there was a mug for sale with some profound words about life being about the journey, not the destination.
I still struggle with this. I'm always look for what's next, not seizing the moment.
Our recent trip to Zambia once again reminded me about the value of enjoying the journey. Our 8 days away were full of "firsts" for Nede. I again realized how important all of these "firsts" are for us. I know, in theory, life is about the journey. I continue to try to embrace it.

1. We journeyed for about 1200 km (745 miles) cramped in a van like this: 

2. At the border post between Zimbabwe and Zambia we saw this: 

3. Then, we couldn't cross the border because there was going to be an explosion at the dam, where we had to cross:

4. Nede ate her first milk shake. She chose bubble gum:

5. Rode on her first "alligator": 

6. Saw her first zebra:

7. Saw her first elephant: 

8. Went to her first real store with a moderately sized display of toys: 

9. And we traveled for the first time out of Mozambique. We made new memories as a family: 

The one thing that wasn't a first is how Nede captured at least another 50 peoples hearts who have now hugged and heard the giggle from this treasure of a kid. 

And, I continue to learn how to walk the journey...

i loved the love and worship

Nede and I just spent the last week away in Zambia at a Hands at Work Celebration. It was really special for us to be able to go there together. I was quite emotional throughout the week because it felt like such a milestone for us. We were able to be with many of the people that have been praying for Nede and me for years now. I can't dream of being able to express what it meant for me. I decided to just make a little video to share...if you can, take a few minutes to watch this and reflect with me all that we've been through over the last few years. I hope you can feel how special it was for us. My favorite parts are shared here-- the worship and the love...you'll see: 

And we were all together, from 13 different countries, because we believe seriously in the words of James 1:27:

  Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.