Another Thursday's thoughts

Apparently I only blog on Thursday's now. :~)

On Monday my friend Chloe came to stay at our home for eight days before she returns back to her home in England. We are having a great time together doing life. She is helping me with my French and teaching me little sayings here and there, as her mother is French so she is fluent. We have had wonderful talks about Jesus, went back to the orphanage together one last time before she leaves, and have just been having a splendid time together.

Today we cooked a turkey.

I have never ever ever cooked a turkey before. With the horror I've had in cooking chickens here I wasn't super eager about having to cook it, but after I got the wrapper off and forced myself to put down the wooden paddles and actually touch the thing, it was smooth sailing. Well, smooth sailing after I called my mom and she walked me through what to do.

I love that even at 31 years old I can still call my mom and she can teach me stuff. I don't think it will matter how old I get....she'll always know more than me. Well, that's what she tells me anyways. :~)

I may or may not have broken two of my toes this morning. What can I say....ya know, it always seems to come down to my stinkin' toes.

Unfortunately after I damaged them I had to go cook a turkey and get ready to go out of town tomorrow, so all I could do was slap a cooling gel pad on them, hobble away, and pray that they are just badly bruised and not badly bruised and broken.

We are going out of town tomorrow! Yay for a little break! We are heading to Nazinga which is right near the Ghana border with ten other dear friends to spend the weekend watching elephants and safarin' it up! You'd think, based on how much we are packing that we were going out of town for two weeks, as opposed to two days. But, you have to pack differently here. The hotel we are staying at does not come with bedding. :~) Plus gallons and gallons and gallons of water as it is going to be 105 all weekend.

This is Africa......  !!!!!!!!!

Thursday's thoughts.....Christmas Eve 2012

I wish I could have taken a picture for the whole world to see. Except the only camera I had on me was in my head. So I took a mental snap shot of her face, praying that what I saw would stay with me forever.

It was the morning of Christmas Eve. I forgot to tell Odette on the Friday last that she didn't need to come to work today, wanting to gift her with the day off. So I waited on the patio for her to arrive, so that I could tell her to go back home and enjoy Christmas eve with her family.

Except, this morning when she arrived I noticed she didn't have her moto with her. 

I greeted her outside and asked where her moto was, and she told me that her husband dropped her off and took her bike for the day.

I was still in my pj's. My hair was in a ragged pony tail. I had my glasses on. I looked like I just rolled out of bed, because I did. I wasn't expecting to be going anywhere at 7am on Christmas eve. I had gotten up briefly just to tell Odette she could go home, and then I planned on crawling back to bed.

Except Odette couldn't go back home. She had no bike. If I was going to gift her with the day off I would have to drive her home so she could have it. But I had no idea where she lived, what part of town,  how long it would take to get there. It was one of those moments where I could feel like God was up to something. Like He had intentionally planned this morning to play out the way it was.

I just remember having this quiet rumbling in my spirit to go with it, to be flexible. The Lord encouraging me to be willing to be inconvenienced.

So I told Odette she had the day off, and asked if I could drive her home, ran back in the house real quick to ask Isaak the words in French for the directions I would need, and as I was heading back outside....Sydaleigh woke up and asked if she could come along to.

We quickly threw on some shoes, grabbed the gifts we had bought and wrapped up for Odette's kids, loaded everything in the car, I swallowed down the little bit of nerves that were rising up at the idea of having to navigate to her house in a language I barely speak....and we were off.

It turned out that she lived very close to our church, so driving her home turned out to be quite easy. On the drive there I wondered what to expect. Odette had brought some pictures with her to work one day to show me her husband and kids, her sister and parents, and some pictures of the kids she used to take care of. In the pictures of her family they were all in a nice home. I was very little compared to our western standard of living, but certainly nicer than the basic brick homes here. So I thought that perhaps she lived a bit more well off than most.

When I arrived at her home, it was clear that the house in the picture was not her own.

She got out of the car, much to the surprise of her husband and kids who came out when they heard us pull up. She explained to them who I was and we were greeted with the warmest of welcomes. Odette took the gifts we had brought and gave them to her kids, who smiled and thanked me. Their thanks welled up from the deepest level of sincerity and appreciation. You see, Burkinabé do not exchange gifts to each other on Christmas. For the few here who are Christian, they attend church service on Christmas. Christmas is about church. That's it. There are no gifts.

I had simply planned on giving the gifts to Odette to bring home with her today. I put them in a bag so she could drape them on her moto's handle bars. I had not expected to be present when she gave them to her boys. But I loved that moment the Lord unexpectantly gave us to see the delight they had in the simple joy of receiving but one gift. It was a sweet moment.

After we had stood outside for a few minutes Odette invited me into her house. She stood in the threshold, waving me in.....grinning from ear to ear. Despite the joy it was to be present when her boys received their gifts....I knew that's not why I was there this morning. The Lord called me there so that I might follow Odette over the threshold of her home....

When I stepped through the door I entered a very small living room. It held a small oven situated behind me with a bowl on top holding two green peppers. No refrigerator. There was a small television in front of me, turned on, with rabbit ears on top to pick up any signal available to receive the news. There was a plastic lawn chair. No other furniture. To my left was a pile of random stuff. I have no idea what it was but it took up the entire wall. To my right, Odette was turning on a small light and waving me into the only other room, their chambre, or bedroom. I stood in the doorway and looked at where her family sleeps each night. Her family of five, which consists of her husband and three sons, one of whom is 17, all sleep in that room together. Not in beds like I sleep on. But on the floor. With mosquito nets draped over their sleeping area.

There was no heat in the house. Her family was all wearing winter style jackets as in December the temperatures can dip into the 50's at night. The 50's is chilly no matter where you live. But it is even chillier when you are sleeping on a mat on the ground with no heat.

There was one thing, however; that I saw, that I will never forget, I pray no matter how long I live....and that was Odette's face as she gave me the tour of her home. This is where I wish I had a camera. I wish I had that picture of her to stick on my fridge to look at as a daily reminder. I wish I had that picture to show the world....

....because her face beamed with absolute pride. Pride! Oh the pride that I saw! It was oozing from her! She could not contain it! I had never seen her so happy!

And it was the pride that she had in her home and her life that cut me to the core.

Oh how many times since moving here have I been swept away in pity for the people that I see. How many times have I drove by their brick homes and pitied them because they have "so little".

How often do we think we have the right to try to change those who live differently than us?!?! Of course there are living conditions around the world that aren't even fit for rats. But I'm not talking about that right now. I'm referring to the times that we see something that is different, as opposed to a situation that desperately needs help, and we scratch our heads and wonder how in the world they could ever live like that? How do you not have a bathroom? You mean your bathroom is outside?! You have a pit latrine for a toilet?! You live in a hut made out of straw!?!? You sleep on the ground?! You eat with your hands?!

We look at people who live differently than us and judge their conditions thinking unrightly that they need to live like us in order to be truly happy.

Odette lives in a two bedroom brick home with her family of five. They sleep together on the floor in a home with no heat. There is no room for personal space. There is no den. There is no formal living room. Her living room is also her kitchen. Which is also her dining room. And her closet. She doesn't have a guest bedroom. There is no office with a desk for a computer that she does not own. There is no basement or playroom. There is no two car garage. There are no stainless steel appliances. She doesn't even own a refrigerator. She doesn't have bunk beds for her boys or 400 thread count sheets. They sleep on mats with worn out blankets.

But it is her home.

And she takes great pride in where she lives.

That is the place in which her family gathers. That is where she laughs. That is where she cooks. That is where she sits to watch her husband slowly build for them a new house right next store. A home that is but slightly bigger than what they have now. That is where she dreams. That is where she finds rest. That is where she does life.

That is her home. And she is happy.

And she stood before me with dignity. There was no inadequacy. There was not a hint of embarrassment. She was proud of her house and it was with great honor that I stood with her in it.

We are so quick to want to teach others a better way to live, a more western way of living...but it would do us well to let them teach us sometimes. To strip off our "know it all" mentality and recognize that we don't actually know it all just because we live in a 3000 sq. foot house with running water and A.C. There is a great deal that we can learn from people who live differently than us. And it is oh so humbling, the learning that I have had to do since moving here. The stripping away of my preconceived notions, accepting what I can not change, and recognizing what I have no right to try to change.

I am very grateful for following the Lord in obedience that day to be inconvenienced. It was a Christmas Eve that I won't soon forget. And I love that Sydaleigh was there too. I love that my girls are getting a front row seat to see the differences in culture. I walked away from Odette that morning having learned a great deal more. Aside from the joy of getting to walk with her for a moment in her world and way of living....it was thrilling to see that the little that it appeared she lived with, was actually busting at the seems...but with things better than "things". To be able to take great pride in a home with so little speaks volumes more of a person's character than being able to take pride and boast in a home with so much.

We are blessed. Of this I have no doubt. But Odette is equally blessed as well. Her home may be humble in it's appearance....but she is not blessed less than me because of it. In my opinion...she actually has a great deal more.

Sofanwet

This last weekend gone by was the big Sofanwet tournament held at Sydaleigh's school, ISO, each year. Both competitive and social softball teams travel from around Burkina and from Niger to gather here in Ouagadougou and play for a trophy and bragging rights.

We spent most of the weekend watching softball, under awnings, trying to stay out of the sun, though even in the shade you can't escape the heat.

It was hot. And fun. With ice cream and sodas. And cheering. And laughing. And despite the fact that Isaak's social team never made it to the finals, we still had fun.

Introducing Speedy

We got a turtle. She is an African spurred tortoise.

Her name is Speedy and she can actually book it pretty fast. The girls think she is way cool and love to pick her up like she's a cat.

First a kitten and now a turtle...this "no more pets" business isn't working out too well for me. I'm not gonna lie,  I don't mind her so much because she's about as low a maintenance as you could ask for in a "pet". All we have to do is let her roam the yard and throw her some lettuce every now and then. Not too hard.

And I gotta admit, I kinda like just saying that we have an African Spurred Tortoise. From Africa. Where we live.

Yup. Still hasn't gotten old yet. :~) 

People.com-Keeping Things In Perspecitve

It's no secret that I have this guilty pleasure of reading celebrity gossip.  Aside from the fact that it is just sheer entertaining...I also find it to be oh so therapeutic. There's nothing like turning to People.com when I'm having a bad day to read about the even more ridiculously worst days of celebrities.

Take, for example, my appearance as of late. Since moving here I have started losing my hair again. At first I thought it was my thyroid...but no, I couldn't even blame it on my health this time. As it turns out, moving to a desert climate has a way of making your hair fall out, I have come to learn. That is one of the number one complaints from Caucasian and Asian women when they move to the Middle East or Africa...they lose their hair due to the extreme conditions. The excessive heat, sun, and dust is wicked bad for your hair, so they say, and my increasing baldness can prove.

Swell. Just when I thought I was starting to grow some back after my thyroid went all lazy on me...I'm losing it again.

So I have the hair loss, the fact that my body and clothes are in a constant state of dirty, oh and my pores bein' grossly clogged from all the dust so I look like a thirteen year old being introduced to the joys of adolescent acne, my skin bein' so dry my heels are cracking, oh, and did I mention my arm dandruff? I totally have arm dandruff.

It's okay though.

When I'm feeling bad about my looks I just have to turn to People and take one look at Miley Cyrus in her midriff barring barely boob covering strip of fabric she calls a shirt paired with her high waist wearing acid washed jeans and her Sinead O' Conner wannabe hair...and I'm all like, whoa girl...that look ain't working for ya. It's a good thing you got Liam to put a ring on it before you buzzed it all off and got all butch because no dude wants to think he's kissing another fella. Well, except for the gay ones.

Really, it helps me feel loads better knowing I have more hair than Miley Cyrus. And the fact that I'm not going through some weird identity crisis. Granted, I am going through an identity crisis...but mine ain't weird like hers. Flakey and smelly maybe, but not weird. I mean, for real girl, you be rollin' in the dough...go get yourself a stylist. (*Anne, your boy hair cut is way chic...I'm only talking about Miley here, so you keep on rockin' that killer cut)

And LiLo....time to take out those extensions. They be lookin' bad....

I can't begin to tell you what comfort I have in knowing that while my hair may be falling out I haven't yet had to stoop to wearing extensions, which is just fancy talk for filler hair plugs, to help fill in the gaps. I'd rather be bald. (*I hereby reserve the right to back peddle and not be called a hypocrite in the event that I do start going more noticeably bald and resort to wearing extensions. However, I pray that I will be raptured up to heaven before I ever see that day.)

And when I start to feel bad about my relationship with Jesus because Satan be throwing darts...I think, hey! at least I'm not a Scientologist....those people are total whack jobs. (Hey Travolta, newsflash, your body is not inhabited by an alien. Call it a thetan all you want but in normal people talk...that's an alien. )

When I'm feeling bad about myself in the ole mom department...ya know, the same old tired song...not feeling valued, under appreciated, going stir crazy because I haven't left the house in two days, having to defend myself (in my head) to working moms that I do in fact work too....

I just have to read about Leanne I Used To Be A Respected Country Singer But Now I Just Walk Around in Bikinis All The Time...um, honey walking around in string bikinis all the time is not a job nor does it add to your credibility as once being a good singer. Please put on some clothes. I'm tired of seeing your ta-tas all the time barely being held up by a cut-out piece of triangle.

And I'm like BAM...instant pick me up!

Also speaking on the subject of jobs, of which I do have but am just not paid for in anything besides giggles and kisses...being a reality t.v. star does not equate to real work....sorry Snookie. Please do us all a favor and leave the airwaves to the real actors....of which you are not.

Speaking of mommyhood....when I'm blowing steam because I haven't had a lick of privacy or alone time in seven years and I can't even pee without someone yelling for me....

dude....there's always Prince Harry to make me feel better. I mean, I may not have privacy...but that dude has like, NO privacy. When I think of him being photographed buck naked because he stupidly stripped down in a vegas hotel with a bunch of herpes infested strangers and had his naked self plastered all over the news....I don't feel so bad about Marvelly ripping back the curtain while I'm taking a shower.

And when me and Isaak have been arguing and not getting along...I just turn my eyes to Kimmy and K-Humph and relish in the fact that my marriage has lasted for more than 72 hours...er, I mean days. Who are we kidding, that's hardly any better.

Seriously, watching that train wreck makes me want to high five myself. And Isaak. Go us! Not nearly as bad as her.

I love People. Truly. There dedication to highlight and exploit the ridiculous lives of celebrities so that the rest of us can feel better about ourselves is priceless. So thank you People.com, for helping me to keep things in perspective for over a decade.

Blessed

It has not always been easy these past 6 months living so far away from family and friends back in the States. I go back and forth feeling fine, telling myself this is no different than any other time we lived away from loved ones thanks to moving so frequently with the Air Force...and then feeling very far away and unreachable.

But the truth of the matter is that this is different from other assignments we've had these past twelve years in the military. Telling myself otherwise is a lie. This is different from anything we've ever experienced. Of course there are many things that are the same...things that happen every time we move and start over....such as the process of finding a new church home, making new friends, settling into a new house, having to learn our way around our new town.

But most of everything else is drastically different. Unlike anything we've encountered before. And from the moment we stepped foot on African soil...without fail...the Lord has never failed to provide for us. I'm not just talking about meeting our physical needs, though He certainly has done that as well. It's in the less obvious. The subtle ways. It's in those quiet moments when I am feeling far away and isolated, longing for the comforting words of a familiar friend that I wake up to find an email in my inbox. Or receive a surprise phone call. Or a care package arrives unexpectedly. When I am feeling forgotten, and beat down, discouraged and empty, the Lord lovingly reminds me that I am being lifted up from afar.

We have not fallen through the cracks of the earth. We have not slipped off the side of the planet. We are seen, and remembered, and prayed over...and it makes me crazy kinds of proud to know that our life is filled with the greatest of people.

It makes me burst with joy knowing that God has blessed our life abundantly with people to love us and encourage us from afar.....

People like my mom who goes to the Goodwill and scours the aisles for capris to send me because I told her I'm burning through my clothes at an alarming rate thanks to the extreme conditions of our new country. I once got a box stuffed to the seams with her glorious thrift store finds! Not to mention the coloring books and crayons and bags of M&M's she sends for the girls, which we have been eating ever so slowly!

People like Bekah who sends me a new apron made by Cambodian women rescued out of the slavery of human trafficking. And coloring books for the girls. And sprinkles which we used today when we made Valentine's Day cupcakes.

People like Sophie, Nora, Samantha and Lydia..the girls greatest of friends who lovingly leave a box open to fill as they find things to mail. The girls have gotten sea shells from their vacation to the beach, cards, and favorite stuffed animals.

People like Aunt Lisa who sends us coloring books and crayons because the girls also burn through those at an alarming rate....new books for the girls to read including the classic "Little Pilgrim's Progress" which we just finished reading and the girls absolutely loved! Not to mention the bags of marshmallows, books, candy canes at Christmas, extra gifts for the girls, and coffee for Isaak.

People like Holly....who purposefully left the tag on a piece of jewelry she scored for me at Target for my birthday because she got it on clearance and she knew how proud I'd be of her incredible clearance find! True that!! Also all the Trader's Joe Taco Seasoning, hot chocolate mix, books, and notes of encouragement.

People like Kristine who, out of the greatest gesture of love I may have ever been the recipient of...went to Walmart to look for instant pudding mixes and paint samples! Kristine doesn't do Walmart. Not ever. She broke her self pledge to never set foot inside one our their stores for the rest of her life and had successfully managed to stay out of one for many years...until her labor of love on my behalf sent her back into the dungeons layer. I almost died when I opened the box to see that she apparently had taken every last one of those paint samples....a very subtle way of stickin' it to the man...the man that is Walmart. :~)

These gifts are great. They are. But it's not about the gifts. It's not. We don't need them. I don't need paint samples for crafts or taco seasoning, marshmallows, new books or sprinkles. But that is one of the things that is so great about gifts...people give you them whether you need them or not. This is about our people. Our people who want to bless us...simply for the sake of blessing.

And it is with overwhelming gratitude that I say thank you. Thank you for all the ways that you have blessed us. Thank you for those who sent Christmas cards. Thank you to those who keep us in your prayers. There are not enough words to express my sincerest thanks.

Thank you for loving us.
It has been life to us out here.

A winner's welcome...Burkina's futball team returns home.

Our house is located downtown. We live just a couple miles from the airport....

So I can hear it all.....

I sit hear listening to whistles being blown, horns honking, trumpets blaring...it is 8:26pm...and the Burkina Faso soccer team has just arrived back in country and is now leaving the airport and making their way to a nearby hotel. The entire city was  released from work early today so that they might be able to stand in wait and proudly welcome their team home tonight.

I step outside for a moment.

On the patio you can hear the crowds cheering. You can hear the drums beating.

I stand there a moment longer. I listen to it all. I can hear the pride.

Despite the fact that Burkina lost last night in the African Cup Finals to Nigeria, the first time they have ever made it to the championship game.....you'd never know it listening to this crowd.

You'd never know they lost.

These people are so proud of their countrymen. Even in defeat they stand proud.

They line the streets and embrace their team home with a victorious welcome. They may not have won the game...but they will receive a winners welcome.

I have no doubt that the celebration will go on for many hours. For a country that is so very poor in more ways than I can describe...they are certainly not poor in spirit. They take hold of what is good and are able to find hope and joy even in loss. They are a noble people.

And it is with great pride of my own that I listen to the revelry outside....it is the sweetest sound.

Djembé

The girls started taking djembé for an after school activity once a week about two weeks ago. I love that Sydaleigh's school offers so many daily after school activities. I wanted to get them involved in something sooner, but since we didn't have a vehicle for the first four months we lived here...we had to wait until the second half of the school year when I could actually drive them.

So, they are both taking Djembé. They have a hilarious instructor who dances around like a ballerina for the little kids. And despite the fact that this is an International School with English as the primary language...people rarely speak in English at the school. With the exception of their daily studies...everything else is pretty much French. So the instructor speaks to them in French which I really like, especially for Marvelly since she's homeschoolin' it with me this year, she doesn't get french lessons everyday like Sydaleigh...so it gives her an opportunity to be exposed to it more.

And I figure this is a good way to not only get the girls involved in some music lessons and teach them rhythm and counting, but teach them a traditional way that people make music here in Africa.

 They dig it.
After thirty minutes of drumming the class does some exercises while the instructor plays.

Here's some video of the girls drummin' African style.

Five minutes. Writer's block. And Iseal leaving Burkina.

I feel like I have writer's block. Well, I would think that if I were in fact a writer. I'm just a person who sits down and types out my life. But lately sitting down and typing out my life is getting increasingly difficult.

I sit down, I have a million thoughts that need to be laid to rest, spoken, to be remembered, but I can not find the words or the focus to bring them out. I feel like I am withholding so much of our daily life here and I will look back and not have a stinkin' clue what we did or how we really felt, or how life was really like day in and day out.

I need words. But they fail me.

So I have decided to make every Thursday, one day a week, a time that I force myself to sit down and type for five minutes flat. Not getting hung up in what I say...but just as an exercise to at least say something.

Except right now I'm using my time to not really say anything. :~)

With three minutes left...

...I am getting ready this morning to go say goodbye to Iseal. I'm not sure exactly how to spell his name, but it's pronounced like it reads...like "Isreal" without the 'r'. 

He is a boy about six years old at the orphanage I visit. When I was there yesterday I asked where he was because he didn't arrive at noon with the other older kids coming back from school. I received the news that his new family had arrived...to bring him home. Finally. Finally. They are together. I can't even begin to imagine what this day must mean to all of them.

His new mommy and daddy are bringing him back by the orphanage this morning to say goodbye to everyone one last time before they return home to France, and Iseal begins his new life in his new country. I have so many mixed emotions and thoughts. The first is absolute thankfulness and joy. That sweet boy is going home to his family. Praise Jesus. The other is a bit of saddness. I will miss seeing his face. I will miss him, as big as that boy is, crawling up into my lap just to be close to me.

So me and Marvi go back today to send him off. To hug him one last time. To wish him well. To pray momma prayers over him even though I am not his momma. Well, at least not anymore. I like to think that for a few months I had the privileged of loving him like a mother while his own waited to bring him home.

I will post a picture later today.

And now I must go...

Shapes and angles.

“Art arises when the secret vision of the artist and the manifestation of nature agree to find new shapes.”  

-Kahlil Gibran