For the Joy

We just did another round of hard goodbyes to family, friends, food, and normalcy.  They say it never gets easier, no matter how many times you do it. 

When these pictures came into our inbox, I knew why I was here.

In the center of the first photo you see our very first foster mama, who is caring for baby Sarah.  On baby Sarah's first birthday, these foster parents took Sarah to visit her village.  We did not plant the seed for this beautiful idea.  They didn't ask our permission.  After the fact, we were sent the pictures.  

Can I be dreaming?  

Somehow our work here prepares the way for the church to do what the church does: Love BIG.  All we did was create the space, provide a way, really a small part in this labor of love.

Here is baby Sarah all smiles visiting with her biological father.  

The goodbyes are temporary, the joy is eternal.

Looking back: On the Homefront

The first six weeks of Philip's time in Africa passed remarkably easily for the kids and me. Sure, I had to pick up the tasks usually reserved for Daddy: removing ticks, killing spiders, unclogging toilets, and the whole of bedtime, but that is to be expected.  Even though I was managing our household of four children alone, it seemed like a vacation largely due to the availability of the grocery store.

Easy peasy.

Week seven changed the game.  In week seven the quirky unreliability of our van spiraled down into leaving me stranded.  With four kids.  Repeatedly. At this point all the little stresses that had been manageable piled up and I was left in tears crying, "I cannot do this any more." 

Then I got up off the floor, and kept on doing it.

The glorious freedom in those tears was learning I can be strong or I can be weak, and it doesn't matter either way.  He continues to do His work through me regardless.

Even though we are together again, the lesson remains.  Some days feel strong and some feel weak, but it doesn't matter because he continues to do His work either way.

Our Little Travel Story

"I want to scream and cry and throw up," I whispered to Philip as we awaited the shuttle to the airport.

"Go for it," he replied.  "No one knows us here."

Our travels included the usual fun like Emily and Titus unknowingly delighting onlookers as they slid across the tile floor trying to remove heavy baggage from the moving carousel.  Our ten checked bags and six carryons topped three luggage carts.  You can imagine the scene with Philip and Daniel taking the lead with one loaded down cart, Emily and Titus pushing the second (one child pushing and one directing since the luggage pile was too high for them to see over) and me, wearing Anne, pushing the final cart.  As our parade made its way through the airport I thought, "Yep, no doubt about it, we will cease to blend in from here on out."

All our plans had been made with the purpose of minimizing our time outside the secured area of the airport.  Approaching the terminal we needed, we noticed armed guards blocking the way.  Without missing a beat, we started inching our way back out of the crowd gathering at the blocked entrance. With heightened security awareness we changed our location several times over the next three hours to minimize risks, all the while unsure of the situation and aware of the ever increasing police presence.  Occasionally Philip and the boys would go inside the building to check the situation.  On one such venture they heard lots of whistling, followed by an explosion.  We later learned the trouble was an unidentified bag, which the authorities detonated.  Minutes later, the terminal reopened.

That was the worst part of the travel and it was immediately followed by the best part.  Unfathomable to us, the luggage guy at the airport remembered our family from way back in September-even remembering where we work!  He has literally seen thousands of travelers since then, but he remembered us (and gave us a discount!).

Through the highs and the lows we made it to our final destination full of thankfulness for those who serve everyday to protect the safety of travelers like us.

Photo Fun

Pull up a chair and enjoy this glimpse into our lives through an assortment of recent photos.

Received a gift of two gourd bowls with woven covers from this beautiful woman.....

 A storm blowing in, thankful for the end of hot season.....

 Honored to watch this family grow, he is the first friend I made in 2013.....

 Our church added ceiling fans!  Of course, at 80 degrees it's too cold to run them....

 Some of the best of the best.....

 The kids at the orphanage surprised us by loving our dog!  Usually Burkinabe are scared of her and refer to her as a lion.

 About to hit the road with my faithful assistant......

 Things that make you go, "Hmmmmm....."

Mindboggling Little Stories

Recently a friend asked about the daily life differences between living in our two countries.  These two short stories illustrate it pretty well, I think.

First is about our neighbor and her refrigerator.  She ran it for one month, got the electric bill, and decided it wasn't worth it.  Think about the implications on daily life of not having a refrigerator.  Food is bought and prepared daily, only as needed.  Tomato paste is sold by the spoonful.  Little kids are sent to the shop for a needed ingredient as the mom is cooking.  Milk is sold in little bags of about one cup.  I say this to emphasize the Burkinabe values of economizing and living in the present without storing for the future, as well as the soaring cost of electricity in a developing country.  The latter is highlighted by a friend who likes to stay at our house because we let him use a fan.  He doesn't turn on his fan at his own home because of the increase of his electric bill.

This next story occurred in our absence when our night guard arrived for work and Toto (our dog) was not herself.  She was barking and growling at him for no apparent reason.  As he worked through the potential causes of this change in character, he realized he didn't know what had been in the meal he ate for dinner since it had been prepared by someone else.  He called her up and, sure enough, it had been dog meat in his dinner.  And our dog knew it!  Isn't that crazy on so many levels? 

These are simple stories, but it seems there is some sort of cultural "Ah!" moment like this every day. 

My Why on Mother's Day

Surprising me with this batik from Burkina in January, Philip gave me more than a pretty picture for my kitchen.  In this image is the "why" of our lives in Burkina Faso.

It represents baby Sarah on the back of her mama on their way to fetch water at the well.

It represents all being right with the world.  A mama.  A baby.  Together.  I'd really like to believe the world works like this.

As you know, tragedy struck at the well and this idyllic scene was disrupted.  As much as we'd like to, for all of us, "we cannot read Satan out of the story and have it make any sense." (Walking with the Poor)

And that's why we're there.  To be on the ground, readying the counter attack of love.

When Satan hits the vulnerable among us - a mother, a baby, in a place with little reserves - we want to be ready.  Until his kingdom comes, until it is on earth as it is in heaven - where moms don't die from snake bites, malaria, or childbirth, until that day we do what the Church does best, we love.  This picture says all of that and much more without saying a word.

Formula Distribution

We recently heard a report of a mama who died from bleeding several days after giving birth to twin boys.  My heart was especially tugged by this story because I gave birth to our sweet baby around the same time.  Never once did I have to wonder if I would survive the recovery.  Never once did I have to wonder what would happen to my baby if I didn't. 

Do you ever hear these stories and wish there was something you could do?

Well, this time you did do something!

Even though we were not in the country at the time, our formula distribution program was ready for such a time as this.  By the time the government agency heard about the babies, they were sure they would die.  Our ministry leader stepped in with formula and bottles, making several trips to their home to explain the hows and why of formula preparation and bottle sanitation.  By all reports, the twin boys are thriving today in the loving care of their extended family.  The paradox is that every success story like this, saving this family pain upon pain, is marred by the tragedy of great loss in losing the mama.

Hugging my baby a little closer tonight.

the twins with their grandmother, uncles, and aunt who care for them