Our stuff arrived last night.

Our stuff has arrived. It actually arrived in Ouaga nine days ago, but it has been sitting at the airport waiting for arrangements to be made to deliver it.

We were allowed to pack so little. So what I packed, I packed with intention, thinking it would be only stuff we would truly want and need while in country.

And I thought that once it arrived I would be happy to see it.

But something happened to us these three, four weeks that our household goods have been gone......

....we learned to be content on less.

Less toys.
Less clothes.
Less shoes.
Less snacks.
Less movies.
Less decorations.
Less games.

Less of everything.

And we were perfectly happy.
We were perfectly content with less.

And then all these boxes started showing up. All our boxes of stuff. I sat in the living room reading to the girls as the men unloaded everything. I was fine at first. And then......a gentleman carried in a box of Doritos from our consumables. The packers in DC didn't wrap it, or put it in another box as it is already packaged and sealed up already. So there it was, plain as day, fifty little bags of Doritos.

And that's all it took.

Seeing that man carry in our Doritos; I was assaulted with a wave of shame.

Shame like I had never felt before.

I started looking around at everything they were bringing in, and I was embarrassed. Embarrassed because in my living room, no, not even my living room, in my hallway, was more food than most people here would see all year. Fifty pound bags of flour, thirty pound bags of rice, chips, pudding cups, cereal, peanut butter. Not to mention all of the toys and clothes and shoes. The heaping piles of dishes and mixing bowls. School supplies.Soap.

We have so much.

We have so much, and most here have so little in comparison.

I felt like I should be happy and grateful to the Lord for helping our stuff get here so quickly. But, I couldn't feel grateful. Which then made me feel even worse. Because all I could feel was shame. And disgust. And embarrassment. And I just wanted the workers to leave. I wanted them to be gone, to not look and see what we had. I wanted it all to disappear.

I wanted to go back to less.

Earlier in the day me and Isaak sat on the couches reading, and we looked at each other and mentioned, that if this is as much as we ever had here....that would be okay. If our stuff never arrived, it wouldn't be missed. The girls, having brought just two small toys with them in their backpacks here, have played with them contentedly. I packed a small portable DVD player and ten movies for the girls to watch. Out of those ten they have watched two. They've watched two movies. That's it. And now we have fifty more in a box somewhere. Fifty more movies that they were just as happy not to have because they were happy to not have even the ten that we packed.

The thing Sydaleigh told me she most wanted to play with when our goods arrived.....her "Whiz Gizmo". A "robot" she made out of shoe boxes before we left. Not her Barbies, not her Littlest Pet Shops, not her Polly Pockets. But a piece of cardboard.

And ten minutes after opening a box of forgotten toys the girls were already fighting over them.

Fighting over stuff. Stuff that ten minutes ago they didn't have and could of cared less about.

And now we have boxes upon boxes of it.

Every time I opened a box a wave of emotion would hit me and I'd want to cry. There was no sense of delight in getting to hang up pictures, or decorate, or put things away to make it feel more "homey."

It was already homey without all of it.

Finally I just gave up and went to bed. I couldn't look at any of it anymore. I talked to Jesus as I got ready for bed. Rambling, stringing words together, praying in broken sentences, telling Him I wanted to be grateful but didn't know how, I couldn't figure out how I should be feeling right now...praying for help to figure it out.

And then He helped me remember the boxes that were sitting in our house, early, because of Him, boxes filled with stuff we brought to give away....Disney toys, soccer balls, kites, baseball bats, clothes, shoes, gum, bracelets, jump ropes.....

....that helped. A little. :~)

I woke up this morning still feeling overwhelmed. I have not yet reconciled the war inside of feeling shame for all that we have, discontent for having more than we really need....but, in time I pray Jesus will help me work through that. And who knows? Maybe I won't. I don't really know.

But, regardless of how I am feeling right now and everything that I don't know....I do know that God is good. He has blessed us with all that we have. It is from His generous hands that we have it to begin with. It is for a purpose. And I will keep scaling and climbing and breathing and taking one step at a time. I will keep moving, determined to reach new heights in my walk with Jesus. No matter how many mountains I climb up and fall back down, no matter how many rocks I trip on, no matter how bruised and banged up I may get, no matter how many days I feel overwhelmed and stuck...I am determined to not leave here the same. I am determined to be changed by Him, for His glory.

Whatever that may look like......
However long it takes.....

Monday musings

-A gal I met at Sydaleigh's open house told me about a church they go to yesterday. It was too late to get a ride to attend when she called, but next week we hope to be able to check it out. Excited to get connected in a church here.

-Last Wednesday some missionaries came over to our house. They serve at an orphanage/school/clinic in Yako, which is about an hour and a half Northwest of here, in the direction of Mali. Kelly met them when they were visiting/speaking at her parent's church in S. Florida and after the service she stalked them down and got their contact info to give to me. Gotta love friends!

We chatted via email back and forth before we moved, and before we left the states we offered to ship with our luggage some totes they needed to get to Burkina. So while they were in Ouaga last week they came by the house to pick up their totes and stayed to visit for a bit. They are wonderful. Truly. It was such a joy to sit in their company and listen to their hearts and hear about what God is doing up in Yako through their lives. As soon as we get our car that is the first place we are going. We hope to be able to drive up there once a month and serve along side them. We were told they have about 50 babies in the orphanage right now, and they need 24 hour supervision. I wouldn't mind holding me a baby or two. I'm sure my baby crazed girls wouldn't mind either..... :~)

-Baking here has been...interesting. I don't have a mixer, or a whisk, I have yet to see baking soda in any store I've been to, I haven't been able to find cocoa, the butter here is not labeled by tablespoons (or, at all) so you just have to kind of guesstimate how much you are using, the granulated sugar is the size of coarse kosher salt, there is no powdered sugar....so you just have to make do with what you have to work with. Which, undoubtedly has led to some failures in the baking department...the cookies I baked for Friday night's dinner date with friends was one of them. Fortunately our host also baked dessert so we were saved from my tiny cookie failure. I have been baking bread, and that on the other hand has been turning out quite good.

-I think I have come to terms with the fact that we live with bats. I have accepted seeing them fly in the sky over our backyard (and everywhere else for that matter) and hearing them squeak at night. I have even come to be grateful for their existence seen as how they eat their weight in bugs each night.

All of that being said.....it still freaks the crap out of me to be out in the backyard, look up and see those freaky little buggers hanging upside down from our trees! Watching me....with their little tiny black "take another step and I'm gonna swoop down and bite ya" kind of eyes.
(The girls can never know of their existence. They would never step foot in our back yard again if they knew they were there.)

-The mosquitoes here are eating us alive. My attempts at saturating us in Deet are proving unsuccessful. I currently have fifteen bites on just my left arm (six of which are on my fingers! What kind of pathetically needy creature is so desperate it would resort to biting me on my fingers?!) My left arm looks like I have the chicken pocks...or some other weird red bumpy illness. Those bats are slackin'. They are not meeting their mosquito quota each night! Isaak brought his bb gun and if those squatters don't start paying up in the form of dead mosquitoes I'm gonna shoot 'em outta the trees.

-Freddy Kruger was inside my stomach most of last week. He finally clawed his way out, to which I am grateful. I'm sure that won't be the last I will see of him.....

okay, more musings later.....

Open House

Sydaleigh's school had their open house two nights ago. We got to tour the campus and talk with her 1st grade teacher and her various special teachers (her PE, Art, French and IT teachers).

There are over 30 different nationalities represented in this school and Sydaleigh has kids from all over the world in her class. She absolutely.loves.it.

She loves to be in a classroom. She has missed school so much these past five months while living in DC, and is thrilled to be back. My girl really likes school. She thrives in this setting so much.

She has French lessons every day and other "specials" each day as well. And I think that after only seven days of French lessons Sydaleigh already knows French better than me and Isaak. In the van last night on the way to a friends house she started singing, "If You're Happy and You Know It Clap Your Hands".... in French. The driver was looking back at her from the rear view mirror just smiling and laughing, so tickled that she was singing so enthusiastically in his language! It shouldn't be too long before I can use her to translate for me! Score!

Can't wait to see how far she comes this year!

(and yes, that would be Marvelly wearing tights. The fact that it is 90 degrees is not a good enough reason for her to not wear tights like a princess :~) )

Serving the one.

Giselle Timbie, the missionary who spoke at the women's retreat I went to in PA in March had a saying, "It's not wrong, it's just different." She was a missionary in Africa for 8 years with her family and lived by this motto.

After living here, in Burkina Faso, for merely ten days, I have thought much about that saying. So much of everything here is different. And many of these difference are not wrong...they are simply just different. 

But some of the things I've observed....are wrong, in the worst kinds of ways.

It is wrong for men, women and children to find their home in a pile of dirt on the side of the road.
It is wrong for people who are crippled with polo to be outcast from society and have to beg to survive.
It is wrong for hospitals to leave people bleeding out and dying in the hallways because they can't afford to pay medical costs upfront.

There is nothing right about that.

This country, in the limited time I've had to view it...is exceedingly poor. Most people live in extreme poverty here. The majority of the population are subsistence farmers. But the climate is so challenging here it makes farming extremely difficult. Which can often times lead to starvation. Because of this, people will often leave the villages and come to the city in hopes of making a living. But there is not enough work. Not nearly enough work for the people who live here. So, now they find themselves homeless and starving to death in the city.


I see them.

They are everywhere...so it's kind of hard to miss them.
They are on every street...even my own.
You'd have to be blind not to witness the extreme need here.
You can not escape it.

I see them.

I see them staring, to weak to move.
I see them begging, not too proud to ask.
I see them watching, waiting to see if I will see.

I see.

It can be quite overwhelming....the need. If I stop and look at the big picture...I wonder....how? How can I ever make a difference here?

And then the Lord whispers....."start with one."

"Start with one. Be obedient to serve the one. Not the whole. Just the one that I put in your path that day."

"One."

So that is what I'm going to try to do.

That is what we're going to do.

On the way home from a family walk on Sunday a little girl all alone intercepted us on the side of the road. We stopped and asked her name and how she was doing and she quickly motioned to her mouth wanting food. All we had was gum. Isaak gave her a piece of bubblegum that she happily accepted and she ran back off. It wasn't much. It won't nourish her in any way, but thank goodness we had something to offer her. Better a piece of gum then sending her off with nothing.

The next day, on Monday, we all walked down our street to the Rec Center to have lunch. Across the narrow road was a man crippled with polio sitting in his rusty wheel chair. I thought about him while we ate wondering if he would still be there when we got done. After lunch I asked the waiter to bag our leftovers and when we walked outside, he was still there. So I walked with Marvelly across the street and gave him my food and water.

I can serve the one. 

I may not be able to serve them all...but I can serve the one. Whether it be Isaak, my girls, our housekeeper, our gardener, a friend, the permanent missionaries working here....or a stranger on the street.....I pray I will not overlook or walk over the one....to get to the whole.

Right now, He is asking me to be obedient to serve the one, so I am going to do my best to try.

I can serve the one.

And may Jesus' great name be glorified when I do.

African rain

We have wonderful rains here in Burkina Faso this time of year. This is their rainy season so nearly everyday we get a thunderstorm of varying degrees. Two days ago we had a lovely rain. It was warm and still sunny in many parts of the sky, which made it quite picturesque.

(photo credit: Isaak :~) )

We have a lot of trees on our property and they spread their arms and cover of yard with their different kinds of leaves. We don't always know when the rain is coming because the trees block our view of the sky. Sometimes it takes a while for the rain to make it through their thick blanket of foliage. But then we hear the sound of the droplets banging down on our tin car port and I rush to the patio to watch it rain down.

This day we let the girls loose outside to let them play in it. And then we joined them.

In the backyard they found some puddles...which I think was all we needed to finish breaking in our new house. No place is quite home until my girls have splashed in the yards puddles. :~)

We we utterly soaked by the time it stopped.

Soon these rains will stop and make way for the dry season when the Harmattan (the dusty hot Saharan wind) will come through and leave everything dry and begging for water. So, for now we are soaking up every African rain we get...and enjoying every minute of it.

Sydaleigh's first day of 1st Grade!!

I had arranged to ride on the shuttle with Sydaleigh for her first day of school-to make sure she was comfortable and found her way to her new teacher. But on Wednesday evening over dinner Sydaleigh asked if she could ride the bus by herself. I could see this twinkle in her eye. She was excited to do something on her own without me.

She is brave, that girl. Being in a new country so unlike the United States has not phased her at all. She is not tense or unsure. She is steady. She is adventurous. And I did not want to give her a reason to be anxious when she wasn't....so I agreed to stay behind and let her ride to school alone.

So, I woke up at 5:30am on Thursday, took a shower and allowed myself the opportunity to cry and cover her in prayers. I woke her up at 6am and she ate her breakfast and got dressed in an outfit she picked out for this day while we were living in DC.

We went over the safety rules with her again. Isaak gave her some money and when we were heading out the door, Sydaleigh asked for our phone numbers. Right! Phone numbers would be good! With everything happening that morning, I completely forgot to put our numbers in her bag...just in case. Love that the Holy Spirit prompted her to ask. Now, I could send her off in peace knowing she was equipped with everything she needed in case of a problem.

And she got on the bus promptly at 6:30am...without hesitation. Without worry or anxiety. The Lord had given her a spirit of peace and excitement for her new life and she waved to us from that window with pride and eager anticipation. How proud I was of her.

And then she was gone. I committed her to the Lord's care and let her go. I let her ride off in a foreign country we've only lived in for four days by herself....and trust that the Lord would care for her, counsel her and protect her in my absence.

And He did. He loves her more than I do. He desires her well being even more than us. And it was with the sweetest joy that I welcomed her smiling face home that afternoon. She had a fantastic day. She sat on the bus next to a boy in her class that we had met already this week. She made many new friends...even African ones she told me! :~) She loved her new teacher the most and spent the day making a book.

Praying that every day is as joy filled as her first was. Praying that the Lord uses her to shine His light and carry His love and hope into the lives of all she touches.

Here's to a great year!

Seeking solitude.

Burkinabe's are not private in the way we are in America. American's are quite private. We are solitary creatures. We seek aloneness. We value personal space. And I didn't realize how much I lived like this...until I stopped living in our culture.

There are always people in my home. Always. Since the moment we arrived our house has had someone in it. I didn't realize just how private I was, until I no longer felt like I had any. It's very different having people in your home every day. Especially people that you don't know, nor can communicate with. Odette, our housekeeper works here from early in the day until mid afternoon. We have a gardener who is always on the property. There have been numerous random workers who have been showing up to fix this and that. Security guards are always coming in and out. Local Burkinabe Embassy employees are always stopping by for different things.

There is no phone call like in the states to let you know they are on their way. And when people arrive at your residence they do not come to the front door. They can't. They ring the bell at your front gate. That is really your front door. So you have to go outside down to the gate and open it every time someone shows up.

And I am finding all of that somewhat frustrating.

In America, we don't live like this. We are a very private people. Whether we think so or not, we are. The majority of American's don't have multiple generations of family living in their home. We don't have internet workers and plumbers showing up unannounced. They call first. They give your a three hour window to when they will arrive so that you can be home. So that you can have clothes on, and your hair brushed, and a bra on, or not be dripping wet because you just stepped out of the shower.

It's been hard this past week waking up and not feeling alone. Waking up and feeling like I can't just "be" and live and adjust in private. Like I can't just walk through my own home in my pj's or listen to music and dance spontaneously or go swimming in our back yard because there are so many extra eyes around.

I find myself retreating to our patio at times. Sitting outside to escape the constant awareness I have that others are watching and working and aware of all that is happening in my private life. This is particularly bothersome to Marvelly as well. She is not used to having strangers in her home all the time and keeps asking when everyone is going to leave.

I pray in time we will come to adjust and accept this difference. But right now it is hard. Probably the most unexpected difficulty I am struggling through at the moment. Change isn't easy and it comes slowly. But the Lord is faithful and has given me some peaceful solitary moments to draw close to Him, and breathe, and for that I am thankful.

I Lost My Tooth in Africa

Wednesday night Sydaleigh lost her first tooth in Africa. Yippee!! It reminded me of the book, appropriately titled, "I Lost My Tooth In Africa," that my sis-in-law Becca got the girls for Christmas. The book is somewhere crossing the Atlantic, but when it arrives we will read it!

speaking in French, Bingo Market, and visiting Syd's school

I was so nervous for this morning.

Me and Isaak were up till about 1am last night writing down and looking up phrases to speak to Odette, our housekeeper today. We had to start negotiating a contract with her for her employment with us. We had to talk about the days she could work, the times, her wage, what she will do...all that jazz.

Right. Let me just go climb flippin' Mt. Everest right quick. That seems a bit easier to conquer at the moment than discussing all of this in a language I don't speak.

Oh yeah, and I was especially nervous after Isaak told me that cat in french is "gateau". So yesterday while "talking" to Odette I kept calling Anna, "gateau" "gateau" "gateau"....which turns out means cake. Not cat. Cat is "chat". So when Isaak was tired and ready to sleep last night he said, "eh, what does it matter? These words are close enough, the difference is insignificant."

Um, I beg to differ! The differences are not insignificant! You had me runnin' around calling our cat a cake! That is a big difference. I don't want people thinking our cat is dessert!

Hence, the slight nervousness this morning.

But somehow me and Isaak both managed to stumble our way through the conversation. And when my sponsor Ima came by this afternoon she smoothed out the rest. Thank goodness for friends who speak french. :~) And then me and Odette worked side by side folding and putting away most of the clothes in our suitcases. I spoke to her as best I could asking about her kids, and names and ages, and where she's from...and, we talked. In a very broken way we talked. And I felt proud at the very small steps we are taking towards each other.

Late morning we had orientation at Sydaleigh's school. She met two other kids in her class, her teacher and the elementary principal gave us a tour and answered a lot of my questions.

After school we dropped the girls off at Ima's house to play with her daughter while we went to Bingo Market with another new gal who's only been here a week. It's not a market like I was thinking. It's actually a Lebanese grocery store. It's quite small, compared to "grocery" stores in the states. It's about the size of a gas station. But, umm, it had carts, and baskets, and there was even a box of Golden Grahams, holla!, on the top of one of the shelves....it was WAY more than I was expecting! But, it is still Burkina Faso, so most of what I saw I was told may not be available next time. The owner stocks whatever he can get his hands on, so the products change pretty regularly.

This is what I got for 50,000 cfa which is about $100.
Doesn't seem like a lot. But there was doubt that I would even be able to buy all of this for the 50,000. So the ladies that went with me had a bet that it would cost more...um, well, they don't know that I am like, the clearance queen. And okay, you may not necessarily have "clearance" here but shopping thrifty can be done from anywhere, and when that register totaled up for....wait for it...

49,450 cfa!!

I started breakin' it down and busted out my "whoo hoos!" and "what up's!!" along with my fist pumps right there at the register! I turned and looked behind me at the rest of the customers in line...but I just got a lot of blank "who let this crazy American into our country" kind of stares.

*Note to self...people here will not share your enthusiasm for shopping cheap. Refrain from breaking it down at the grocery store you moron!

And that's a wrap for today.

Our first day in Ouagadougou

"There is a lady sleeping on our patio."

That is the first words I heard from Isaak when I woke up this morning! I'm sorry, say what?! Ha ha! Oh, that must be the housekeeper. Wonder how long she was ringing the bell before she gave up and took a nap?! Ahh, welcome to Africa. :~)

We've met lots of new people these past 24 hours. We met our housekeeper today. She was indeed the lady sleeping on our patio. Her name is Odette and she speaks all of three words in English. Which will be interesting because I speak all of three words in French! Oh my. What a team I pray we will make some day. :~) Isaak had to go into work this morning so it was just me to navigate communicating with her. I did lots of hand gestures but what I did say in French she managed to understand. Whoo hoo! I even learned a new word..."la douche" which means shower, which I only know thanks to my trusty French books. But I communicated it!

We met our security guard last night. So friendly and he does speak a little english. We exchanged hugs and then Isaak took him out some banana bread that the ambassadors wife baked us. When Isaak went out last night he was huddled up in the guard house with his coat and hat pulled tight, cold. It was still about 80 degrees outside. :~)

We briefly met the US ambassador at the embassy when we were there for a re-enlistment ceremony performed by a four star general who is visiting. I was told we have lunch at his house on Friday.

Our drivers name was Barry. But because of his think french accent I kept thinking he was saying "Balli". He wasn't. Eish. My bad. Glad to be corrected by Isaak when I saw him. Barry is cool. During our drive to the embassy I learned he is 48, Muslim, lived in Nigeria for twenty five years, born in Ghana, lived in Liberia, his dad died in 2001 and he has five kids (two boys and three girls).

I met our gardener when I went outside "talking" to Odette.

Met lots of people at the embassy, Americans and non.

Today was a busy day. Lots of introductions and "firsts." We got lots of sleep last night but there was very little "rest". Sydaleigh got sick this morning, throwing up from who knows what. Probably a combination of jet lag, hunger and dehydration. Thankfully she perked back up in time to get picked up by Barry. I cooked in the kitchen for the first time. The girls and Isaak swam in the pool for the first time. Visited an embassy for the first time. And wow. I thought an air force base was tightly secured. Holy smokes. This place was tighter than Fort Knox! Marvelly rode without a seatbelt for the first time. I think I'm going to have to brainwash the girls to get them back into US car riding requirements when we leave here. :~)

Tomorrow is busy still. Sydaleigh has orientation for school in the morning followed by my first trip to the market. Oh, and I somehow have to communicate with Odette again about rearranging the terms of her employment. Should be an interesting day. :~)

I am off to write down what I need to say in French.

Getting to Africa-the past 48 and some odd hours

After 24 hours of traveling....we have arrived in Burkina Faso. It is so wonderful to be home. Mere minutes after stepping foot into our new house Isaak says, "I think we're gonna need to stay here three years." And I think he is right. Though I haven't seen much yet, just the mere hellish struggle in actually getting here makes me want to stay as long as possible! Ha ha!

The travel getting here was grueling. It had some absolute beautiful moments but it was still painfully long.

We were suppose to leave Friday night at 11pm from Dulles International in D.C., but a few hours after we checked out of our hotel and were killing our remaining time at Holly's, Isaak got an email saying that our flights had changed. They had pushed our arrival time in Paris back by two hours....giving us a total of 15 minutes till our next connector flight.

Yeah. That wasn't happening. It would take us more than fifteen minutes just to get off the airplane! So, they gave us another flight leaving Saturday.

We got one last unexpected night in the states with our favorite people. The girls had one last sleep over with the Panter ladies which made for some big smiles.

And me and Isaak went on one last date with Jake and Holly. We had Thai food and saw The Bourne Legacy (which was so completely AWESOME!!! In my top ten favorite movies ever!)

It was a gift. Holly held my hand and prayed over me when the frustration of not leaving threatened to wash over me. So grateful she was there. Love this lady so much.
So thankful for the gift of that one extra day. The right attitude and perspective is so powerful.

When Saturday came we were refreshed and filled up so much.

We said our goodbyes and cried a little and then Jake brought us to the airport. We arrived and had everything unloaded by around 2pm. (There was a third cart behind that carrying the rest of our suitcases.)

Our plane wasn't scheduled to leave until 4:40. We thought that gave us plenty of time. Until we got there, and saw the Air France check-in line went all the way back to security. Gah. We waited in line for two hours and fifteen minutes just to check in our baggage. We checked in four extra bags past the limit and every bag was over the weight limit. We were expecting to have to pay close to $600 for our luggage...and they didn't charge us a single penny. Hallelujah. Huge blessing.

It was 4:20pm by the time we got done. They told us to wait because another family was almost done checking in and needed to make that flight as well and they would walk us to the gate together. So we waited another five minutes.

The plane was already boarding and leaving in fifteen minutes. Our chances of making it in time were dwindling. I was just praying so much. I was like, "Lord, stall that plane and help us to get there in time because we are leaving today!" Just standing in faith that Jesus would provide. And get us where we needed to be.

Finally, after five more minutes the other family was ready and an Air France attendant walked us to the the gate.

But we all still had to go through security. And to get to security you have to go downstairs and this way and that. Ah, nightmare!

The other family was returning to the Ivory Coast and they were carrying some of our stuff, the attendant was carrying some of our stuff, we looked...well, like a bunch of crazy people about to miss their flight.

Lets just say, we were the family in Home Alone. By the time we all passed security, took the train to our terminal, we were RUNNING to the gate.

RUN.NING! With the cat and both girls. The other family. The attendant. All through the airport.

When we saw our gate it was exactly 4:40 and they were making the final call to board and we were waving our hands screaming, "we're here! Wait!"

It was then that I started to cry.The frustration and sheer craziness of the past two hours and the absolute thrill and delight of making it....I just couldn't keep it in. There was hardly time to say goodbye and thank the A.F. attendant, but with eyes filled with tears Jesus gave me one final moment to look back and thank her. As we ran through the airport together I found our that she lived in Niger for fifteen years as a child because her parents are missionaries and were there translating bibles. With a face bright and sincere she told me how much she loved it. Niger was her home, her life. And she encouraged me saying she hoped we enjoyed our time in Africa as much as she did.

So, I needed that moment to look back and thank her. She will never know what that small exchange did to my heart as we were running, literally, towards our new life in Africa. But Jesus did. Of all the people in the airport employed by Air France, for the Lord to have this young gal run us to our gate...this young gal who lived in our neighboring Niger for most of her young life, her face just testified to the joy she had in living there. And it was with an overwhelming heart of thankfulness that I looked back and thanked her for so many things I wouldn't have time to tell her.

Then we had to get on the plane. Were were the last passengers to board. As we moved through the very narrow aisles to our seat in what seemed like the back of the plane I just kept saying to people, "I'm sorry if you get injured as a result of a car seat." "Sorry, watch out, careful, I may bump you with a over sized book bag." "I apologize in advance if your head gets knocked by my cat carrier."

Those poor people. I think I only managed to hit one or two people. Most everyone took cover when they saw us coming.

When we finally got seated they announced to the passengers that there would be a delay in leaving because they had to load an additional piece of baggage.

Whoops. Our bad again. When we were about to load the crew said we had too much stuff and took one of our carry one bags. As if we didn't annoy enough people getting on the plane, now we had to delay the flight! Thirty minutes went by and I thought, "okay, we had one small bag, it couldn't possibly be taking this long to find a place to put it! What gives?!

Turns out, there was also a problem with an engine so we had to sit for two hours on the plane waiting for it to get fixed before we could leave.

As were we waiting though we discovered that the lady sitting across the aisle next to us was also on her way to Ouagadougou. She works for an NGO organization and will be in town for three weeks working. So we talked about the country and she shared with us some insight as she previously visited Burkina a few months ago. Of all the five hundred some odd passengers on the Airbus we just so happen to be sitting next to a gal also going to Burkina Faso. Again, just another cool God orchestrated moment that we wouldn't of had if the engine hadn't of broke and we were left sitting there with nothing to do but small talk.

Finally the engine was fixed and we were on our way to Paris. Sydaleigh and Marvelly were bouncing off the seats excited that they each got there own tv screen to watch movies on during the flight. Free movies I might add. They even had Hunger Games on there. I didn't watch it again, though I was tempted. :~)

Seven and a half hours passed and we eventually arrived in Paris. This is as much as we saw. :~) But I can still say I was in France! Score!

Everybody we talked to who's been there told us what a dirty stinky airport it is, but I disagree. We found it to be really really nice. Like, really nice. In the area where our gate was they had a little Disney play area set up which the girls took full advantage of. Thank you Jesus for a world that appreciates Disney!

Before we could leave for Burkina we first had to again, sit for another hour on the plane while they tweaked who knows what. And then we had a layover in Niger. And that's when it hit me. Descending down to Niger, the airport is literally in the middle of what looks like no where. As far as the eye can see it is this beautiful red dirt with little sporadic trees. It is what you envision when you think of African landscape. The tears would not stop. I buried my face in the side of my headrest and cried, and stared out the window of a continent I never thought I'd see.

After an hour layover we took our final forty minute flight to Burkina. When we landed on the ground some people in the back started clapping. I started crying again. Just to hear the sound of their hands spontaneously celebrating our arrival was overwhelmingly sweet. We had arrived. By the grace, mercy and hand of God himself our family had arrived.

We were home.

In the airport the US Embassy had a gentleman waiting for our arrival. Out of the scores of people rushing in and scurrying to get in line, he spotted us immediately and said, "Mr. Brooks? Come with me!"
Isaak looked back at me and said, "I guess we stand out." We gave him our passports and we walked right past customs. After an hour of waiting for our luggage the airline managed to only lose one. At that point I was like, "One out of thirteen ain't bad. I'll take it!"

Two guys from the embassy who will be working with Isaak were waiting outside to drive us to our home. They had a huge van for us and we all piled in to drive the mile or so to our house.

On the way I just stared out the window and took in the scene. It was, very different from D.C.

After what was now 24 hours of being in an airport or an airplane....we finally made it home. It was such, sweet relief to cross that thresh hold. Well, there are multiple thresh holds but with each one I walked through it felt great.

Our sponsors were waiting at our house as well and they talked us through some "need to know" things and then they drove us twenty seconds down the road to the US Rec Center where we had dinner. There was not enough seats in the car for us all, so the girls, including their three year old daughter piled into the back of their SUV and we drove like that. I'm quickly learning that you don't get hung up on little things like car seats and seat belts around here. :~)

After dinner we came home and got acquainted with our house. Anna was already making herself right at home. Poor cat. She was stuck inside her carrier for 24 hours and absolutely miserable the entire trip. None of the "medicine" we gave her worked. She meowed almost the whole time, and then pooped and it got all over her fur and she stunk so so so bad the rest of the trip. I still look at her and can't believer we succeeded in bringing her to Africa. That's my girl right there. That cat is hard core.

We are here. We are here, we are here, we are here. Praising Jesus we are all here. He is so faithful. My heart rejoices in His care of us.

Now to get all our suitcases unpacked. Happy day. :~)

My walk with the Lord these past five months

Not really sure where to start.

I had one last girls night with Holly and Liza on Wednesday night and while we sat eating frozen yogurt Liza asked, "so how are you doing spiritually right now?"

Shoot. That question.

How am I doing spiritually?

"well," I started responding, "it feels like God is trying to poison me."

This whole time I've been in DC I have known that I have known this is a specific period of preparation. God has made it perfectly clear that these months are to be spent in preparation for Africa. And not preparing as in purchasing our consumables and buying bug repellant, though that has been part of it. But the preparation He had in store for me was emotionally and spiritually. Preparing myself in Him. That's what He's been trying to do in me these past five and a half months.

And looking back on my time here...all I can think of is, is that I have failed. I have massively failed. In one area in particular....

Back in March I went to a women's conference and the guest speaker spoke with me privately and what she said came straight from the Lord's mouth. She said, "it is going to be up to you to set the emotional tone for your household. Your family, knowingly or not, is going to be looking to you for emotional stability. Like it or not, that burden rests with you."

It was like a punch to the gut. I wanted to shout at her, "No! Not that, anything but that!"

As soon as she said it I could feel the Holy Spirit convicting me. Driving that point home deep into my heart. Like salt on an open wound. Ouch. Crap. This? Come on! You know how bad I suck at this!

I don't want to have the responsibility of maintaining the emotional stability within our household...somedays I can barely hold myself together!

Being a mature grown up is rough. Dying to self is even harder. A lesson I don't feel I learned with grace these past few months. These past five months have been an absolute roller coaster of crazy. I'm talking'...everything that could go wrong, did. Everything unexpected that could happen, also did. Lots of opportunities for God to get in there and teach me and stretch me. And I just don't feel like I've made any progress.

Instead of handling the unexpected with grace and flexibility...I'd fall to pieces. More times than not I would let my circumstances get the best of me. I would respond MY way, instead of God's way. And each time I did that, God would show me how my reactions were/would affect the girls and Isaak. Every time I would start to unravel over something else that went wrong, He would show me how my behavior and attitude was affecting the family. 

He'd whisper, "Melissa, I have equipped you to respond differently than this." 

And a couple days ago as I was walking the girls to the nearby park by our hotel He brought a vision to my mind. I am an incredibly visual person, it's how God made me, and knowing this most times the Lord will speak, teach, drive home points, encourage, and convict me through something visual. I was walking through the grass and all of a sudden I was just assaulted with this vision of a person in a mental hospital being fed their pills. The patient was so agitated and fighting to not take her meds. She was clenching her mouth together to keep the doctor from putting the pills in. She was wiggling her head from side to side in her desperate attempt to not take them. Because she didn't want them, she didn't think she needed them. They were as good as poison to her. But there is the doctor not giving up. He has his hands on her cheeks squeezing her mouth together to try to open her lips to get the pills down and when he finally gets one in she just spits it back out. 

I also thought of the scene from Steel Magnolias where Julia Roberts character was being force fed juice because her sugar was low as she was a diabetic. But even though she needed the juice, it was good for her, it was LIFE for her, she fought drinking it. She shook her head and kept her mouth shut tight and when Sally Field finally got a little bit in she would spit it back out. 

"That is what you're doing to me," the Lord would whisper. "You are spitting back out at me the very life that you need."

"that's because it feels like poison". 

Dying to self ain't easy. Choosing Jesus' life giving ways instead of living for myself is hard. I hear Christians prattle on about how good it feels when they finally give Jesus the reigns of their life and let go of control and all that super spiritual jazz. But really, sometimes, a lot of the times, it feels like poison. It feels like death. All the times that I've let Jesus in to clean out some junky areas of my heart, it doesn't feel good. It hurts. And it's painful. And messy. And I have to grit my teeth to tolerate the pain. Because, again, dying to self ain't easy. And yeah it feels good later on down the road, but in the moment, even though I admitted myself to the hospital and I asked for treatment, being giving God's life sustaining pills feels like poison. And I choke on them and try to spit them out because changing is hard. 

But there He is, encouraging me and reminding me saying, "I have equipped you to respond differently. I have equipped you to live differently. Everything you need you already have....in Me." 

So, here I am, five and a half months already come and gone, Africa is just a day away. I can either beat myself up for failing or I can take hold of His life and try again. And while I am not as far along in my walk with the Lord as I hoped to be right now...I'm still walking. By golly it may not be pretty or graceful at times, and each step might feel like torture, but by His grace (cause it certainly isn't by my own) I will never stop walking. I will never stop walking with my Lord.

Hair cuts all around!

We've got short hair! (well ya know, short for us!)

Me and Syd got a bunch of hairs chopped off just in time for Africa! And Marvelly got some hairs cut too, but just a trim, the dearie likes her longer hair.

After Syd got hers cut Marvelly came up to her and said, "Oh.my.gaw-sha. Your.hair.is.SO.short Sydaleigh!" Tee hee! I love Sydaleigh's shorter "do". I think it suits her so nicely. And Marvelly's too. She's keeping it long because that's what she says princesses do. :~) Funny girl. Love these ladies. Love how they have such individual personalities that even come out in their hair choices.

Well, now that our hair is ready to go, I just need to finish everything else! Three days to go!

Packed to the max

Inside this lovely floral $6 thrift store find basic suitcase....

 there is....

1 queen coverlet
1 queen duvet cover
1 queen bed skirt
1 queen fitted sheet
1 queen flat sheet
2 queen shams
2 twin coverlets
2 twin sheets
2 twin shams
1 twin fitted sheet
2 twin flat sheet
2 full size blankets
5 pillow cases
2 shower curtains
2 window panels
3 wash cloths
3 hand towels
1 decor pillow
2 twin mattress protectors
1 queen mattress protector
4 pillow protective covers
2 large bath towels

Vacuum seal bags are awesome. One should never travel overseas without them.

A last visit with my mom

My mom came to visit last week one more time before we move. It was a wonderful time spent together. She drove up on Thursday night (and of course got lost, again! Ha ha!) and stayed till Monday afternoon. Her trip had no grand DC highlights but rather was filled with wonderful everyday ordinariness.

Gosh we love the Mimi around here.

We filled her time here with a trip to the pool. We hit up the bowling alley where me and my mom got a very respectable five gutter balls in a row. We do not have good bowling genes.

 

 Isaak creamed us all, of course.

-We had dinner at Moe's one last time,


-there we many late night sewing projects,

(With my mom's awesome help I made a Syd a pair of shorts, Marvi a skirt and my mom made her a matching top, I made each girl a pair of pj bottoms and they both got a cape for their favorite doll. Go me. :~) )

-we walked on the Potomac collecting snail shells and dipping our feet in the water,

-We baked a totally ridiculous cake which turned out way ugly, but an ugly cake is still a yummy cake. So it sure didn't stop us from eating it!

-my mom introduced us to frappes.

-We made the yummiest grilled veggie subs and she took the girls to watch Isaak graduate from his training while the "Africa" movers were here on Friday.

I don't have pics of the graduation but I do have pics of a before and after pic of the boxes! This room is finally empty, hooray!

-She cheered Sydaleigh and Marvelly on in their attempts to stand on their heads and taught them some Tae Kwan Do moves.
 
(at 32 years old my mom started taking Tae Kwan Do lessons and after many many years eventually worked her way up to become a second degree black belt. My mom is hard core. Not only can she can break through a stack of wood boards with her fist, but she is proof that it's never too late to learn something new.)

She helped diffuse arguments. We went for our traditional walks together with the girls and just me and my mom where one evening we saw a double rainbow; it was magical. A thunderstorm happily graced her visit for a shirt time and we walked to the shoppette and looked for movies. We had long talks about everything from vaccines to politics to Downton Abby to the legal way to transport alcohol.

I love these kinds of trips. The kinds where we are simply busy spending time together doing regular things. I love taking walks with my mom. I love sitting on the couch eating strawberry Twizzlers and watching the Olympics with her.

As she was leaving on Monday afternoon the girls ran on the side walk chasing her car as she drove away. It is their very special way of showing love right now, running feverishly after the car waving their little hands in the air and screaming "goodbye!".

After we couldn't see her car anymore we came in the house and I got the girls set up in the living room for a bit, and I gave myself permission to cry. I haven't been able to cry much lately. Sounds weird, but crying can be so healing and needed, and well, I just haven't had the time to do that. I kept thinking how nice it would be if my mom could come to Africa with us...the idea of her being with me and just her presence is such a calming force in my life. Whenever I know that she is going to be close soon, I breathe deep peaceful sighs of happiness. And as I stood in the kitchen crying thinking about these things...I thought too...I hope that is how I am with my girls. That my presence is calming for them. That me being close fills them with security and peace just like my mom does for me.

It was a great trip. Love my mom. I am going to miss this silly lady overseas. But, God willing she will be able to join us at some point while we are out there.