Poopin' in a pit.

I had a very proud mommy moment. Just the fact that I found myself taking pride in what occurred, left me even prouder of how far we've come and how vastly different our lives look now from what they used to to.

I am proud of my girls for all sorts of things. I freaked out on all kinds of crazy levels when my girls went to the bathroom in the potty for the first time. I celebrate when Sydaleigh loses a tooth. I scream and shout when Marvelly learns to snap. I go all kinds of bonkers when both girls do something new and cool in the pool. Hearing Sydaleigh read fills me with overwhelming joy. Watching Marvelly conquer riding a scooter makes my heart dance.

I celebrate all their accomplishments. I take pride in all the areas of their life that they are learning and growing. I love that about being a mom. The part where you get to watch your kids navigate through life and encourage and celebrate with them along their way.

And last month was no exception. I celebrated a new first like we had just won the lottery. Except what happened was better than any boat load of money could bring....

...for I witnessed Marvelly poop in a pit latrine (that's fancy talk for hole in the ground).

It was a big moment.

Truly. That's why I'm documenting it.

I still get a little teary. For reals.

I mean, when you decide to up and move your family from a developed country that is a world leader in medicine, political democracy, religious freedom, and has every comfort imaginable (we're talkin' a place where ice cream comes out of walls, walls, at the push of a button).....and move them to a third world nation where there is no electricity and running water (or walls filled with ice cream) for 99% of the population and is ranked the 3rd most miserable country in the world to live in.....

...well, lets just say you pray your kids can learn to adjust.

And when last month we were out in the middle of nowhere delivering shoeboxes with Samaritan's Purse, and Marvelly had to go, well, I had my doubts that she actually would when she saw where she had to go.

Because there ain't no toilets out here. There's not too many in the city, but there definitely isn't any out here.

Of course I told her to go before we left the house, and of course she told me she didn't have to. And of course the second we arrived and it is inconvenient now for her to go...is when her body decides she has to. 

Fantastic.

Well, no time like the present to start working on your squatting skills I always say. Actually, no, I don't. I don't say that. I should probably start though.

I realize that there are places in the U.S., like icky public restrooms in gas stations, where hovering or delicately placing strips of paper on the toilet seat is preferable to touching any part of your skin on that toilet bowl because you don't know what's living there. And squatting over a pit latrine is kinda the same. Except there is like, no toilet bowl. Or toilet paper. There is just a crude hole in the ground. And you gotta hover there with perfect balance because there is nothing to sit on or prop up against, not even a rail to brace yourself with, and you don't want to fall and get your back side stuck in that nasty feces filled hole.

So when Marvelly had to poop, I figured she'd rather hold it than go behind half a wall and poop in a hole. But when we walked over that girl of mine did not even hesitate. Not only did she not even hesitate, she didn't complain, she didn't gag about the pile of poo smeared next to the hole where clearly someone missed, she didn't say it stunk even though it did. She just looked around for a quick sec, took in her surroundings, and that was it. I helped hold her arms because she wouldn't have just gotten stuck had she fallen, that pit woulda swallowed her whole. And when she was done we went on our merry way!

And welcome to how the rest of the world poops. 

I. WAS. SO. PROUD!!

It did not even phase her! She didn't think anything of it! It's like, that was a perfectly normal way to go to the bathroom, even though it was so different from what she was used to.

It was a big moment. I coulda cried. Because my baby pooped in a pit for the very first time like a total champ.

I think it's safe to say that they are adjusting. And if they can adjust to this, they can do anything. :)

My kids are awesome.

I surprised him for his 31st!

Isaak likes parties. A lot. So this year for his birthday me and Nathanja planned a double birthday surprise celebration for him and Nicole who happened to be turning 30 the week after Isaak turned 31. Not that we all ever need a reason to get together, but at least this time we had a reason to dress up.

It turned out to be one of the funnest and silliest parties e-ver.

Because the theme of the birthday was "Over the Hill" and everyone invited was encouraged to dress up as old geezers. And our friends did not disappoint!

Somehow me and Nathanja managed to secretly plan, covertly invite people, make all kinds of arrangements without either Isaak or Nicole being the wiser. They were absolutely stunned, I mean Isaak was just blown away, when we showed up at the restaurant to all their friends dressed as old people to wish them a happy birthday!

Nathanja even managed to dig up a wheel chair and walker!

I'm the only lame one who didn't dress up. There was no way I could dress up as an old lady and drive with Isaak to the party and not have him wondering what the heck I was up to. So I brought along a scarf and wrapped it round my head like my grandma used to do, except in the end I really just look like I was wearing a scarf on my head. :)

Rhyan, Nicole's husband, was smart and brought clothes along with him to dress into once he got to the restaurant with Nicole. Even more hilarious than his killer denim vest and high water pleated khakis was that he brought along a hair trimmer to buzz off the whole middle of his head! Even more hilarious is that the bathroom where he hoped to buzz is hair had no outlets...so he came out front, where we were all pictured and asked the gal behind the bar if there was an outlet close by he could use. She motioned over to a wall near some tables where people were eating. He told her it was to shave his head, and she just waved him away like it was no big deal. So there he was, in the corner of a really nice restaurant, shaving his head while people were eating! A waiter came up to him as he was doing it and stopped to stare and as Nathanja bent down to pick up the hair in her hands because there was no broom and dustpan, the waiter, looking somewhat horrified, just told her to leave the hair on the floor! So they did! He shaved his head and left all his hair in a big old pile on the floor in the restaurant! Bah ha ha! I love Burkina! It's so weird! You can do the craziest stuff and nobody cares because everyone has seen crazier!

So awesome and ridiculous! Oh my gosh, I just die laughing when I look at this picture! My friends here are so cool even when they look so old and dorky!

After dinner we headed back to Fred and Nathanja's for dessert and further celebration. And now I must give a shout out to Nathanja, because her and Fred were sick for the party and the days leading up to it. With Typhoid. And they still got dressed up and came to the party. I seriously have the most awesome friends. Friends who will decorate their homes and make cakes and dress up and go out to dinner all to celebrate friendships while they are feverishly sick with typhoid. Unfortunately, she did end up in the hospital two days later, which sucked, but she'll still tell you it was worth it! Now that is hard core!

(Nathanja, Nicole, me)

My not so over the hill husband and my lovely friend! To an incredibly hilarious memory filled celebration in their honor! Happy birthday!

The African rains have returned

It's as if, the skies have been locked up for the past seven months. As if someone took away the key to clouds and rain. From October through May the sky has been blue and hot and dusty. The heat growing in intensity. You step outside and feel the sizzling hot dry air swirl up around you, pressing in on you from every side, as if it's threatening to suffocate all who dares breathe of it.

Each day bleeds into the next. The cracks grow wider. The air growing thicker and thicker with dust. The sun scorches down mercilessly. 

And then slowly you begin to feel the humidity creeping back into the air.

You look around and everything looks the same....but you know....you know....it won't be much longer. Because you can feel the change a comin'.

And then one day you are standing outside and you look around and everything doesn't look the same anymore.

You see clouds converging from all corners of the sky. The blueness has been swallowed up. The sun has been concealed. There are suddenly swirls of greys and blacks dancing over the land. The humidity is rising. It's a balloon. It's expanding and expanding and expanding until suddenly it explodes. The sky explodes. The sky has taken back the key that held the rain prisoner for the past seven months. It can not, and will not, be contained another day. It unleashes like a furry. It pours down from the heavens up above onto a dry and thirsty land far below. It rains down and doesn't stop, making up for all the days it was caged up high inside itself too far away for us to reach in and drizzle out relief.

But alas there is relief. Alas, the land is thirsty no more....

...for the African rains have returned. 

Swimming in the rain.

I believe that life is filled with subtle moments, moments that seem small all by themselves, but added up over a lifetime equate to the most beloved and beautiful memories. 

These moments come by quietly. It is easy to overlook them because they carry the appearance of ordinary. But they hold magic. A spark of something greater.

If you can learn to look and see what could be.

When the quiet whisperings of that subtle moment present themselves...you must be willing to drop everything. To run away from the dinner you were cooking. The clothes you were folding. The crafts you were making. The bathtub you were filling. The bedtime story you were reading. The school work you were studying.

You must be willing to let it all go. To stop. To turn. To run. To leave it all behind and jump into that moment head on. And live in it until it passes.

Last evening a seemingly ordinary moment presented itself unexpectedly. All of a sudden it started to rain. I was in the kitchen making dinner. Isaak had just come home from work. And from the living room I hear the girls start whooping and hollering that it is raining outside. I leave the kitchen and see them huddled up to the big windows, pressed between the curtains, faces pushed up against the glass...admiring the rain.

There's the moment. We could have stayed inside, huddled against the windows and watched the rain beat down. We could have lived in the ordinariness and splintered off to go back to what we were doing.

But I saw the spark of something greater. I chose to see what could be. And I decided to jump into that moment head on, dropping everything, to live in this moment....

All at once I start shouting and swinging my arms in excitement and I hollered to the girls to follow me outside into the rain. Their little feet came stammering after me, racing to catch up. We fly over the patio and burst through the screen door. As we move over the steps and the side walk I tell them they can jump into the pool and go swimming in the rain if they want. Of course they want. They shed their clothes by the pool without a second thought and leap into the water with the rain crashing down.

Letting it all go. Leaping into that moment arms stretched wide.

They jumped and played  and splashed and giggled and stuck their tongues high to the sky to catch the water. And they stayed in that pool until every last drop of rain had been poured out over them.

These are the moments. The spontaneous moments that will add up over the course of their childhood and create the most beloved and beautiful memories. The moments that I look for. The moments that I am willing to drop everything to live in. The moments that carry the spark of something greater. The moments that whisper to me they carry something more....

Bringin' my flare to Africa

Fedora. Shades. Ariel Disney tee. Wrap skirt. Leather fanny pack from Liz that she scored for me at a thrift store. Big Burkina basket....oh yeah....that's how I rolled up to the market this morning to buy me some veggies. Yup. I left the house like this...it looked better in my head. :)

Burkina has changed a lot, but at least I'm still marchin' to the beat of my own style drum.

Even if it did march me to this very eclectic and oh so special styling job I did on myself this morning.

Bringing my flare to Africa! For shore!  :) 

Today I am thankful....

-that I made it through my first April in Burkina! Holla! April is considered the hottest month of the year here, with temperatures reaching past 110 degrees almost daily. And now it is officially half way through May! The temps are still over 100 degrees but Friday is suppose to be only 97 degrees, and then back to the 100's. But I will gladly welcome the "cooler" temp this week.

-that I can have a sense of humor about 97 degrees being "cooler" temperature.

-for A.C. and a pool. Huge blessings. Words can not express my thankfulness.

-that there are only 16 school days left! Yes, we are counting!

-that my daughter can attend a private international school....free. of. charge.

-for French lessons this afternoon. I seriously love french lessons.

-for small strides in understanding and having childlike conversations in french. I'm not as far as I'd like, but I know a whole lot more than before I moved here.

-for our little cat Amira who is thankfully not so little and evil anymore.

-that I only get viciously attacked by her a few days a week. My skin is happy.

-for my morning at the orphanage today and getting to partner with God in a teeny tiny way to bring joy to children in need.

-for our three mango trees in the backyard that our overflowing presently with ripe mangos!

-for the fresh mango and pineapple smoothie I had for lunch this afternoon. Oh my gosh, happiness in my mouth. So good.

-that I have learned to like new foods since moving here! Mangos and avocados!

-that I was brave enough to eat the raw salmon that I accidentally ordered on Friday because I thought it was smoked, which it said it was, but I interpreted it as smoked meaning fully cooked. It was not. The joy of not having menu's in english and thinking you understand french well enough to make an informed decision on your dinner choice.

-that there were potatoes on my plate to sandwich between the raw salmon. I could still taste the wet cold slime, but it was doable. Go me.

-that Marvelly only threw up once yesterday.

-for being spoiled on Mother's day! Still so thankful for Sunday!

-that my girls have friends coming over to play this afternoon. Thankful for community!

-that ALL our adoption paperwork is in the mail as of yesterday on it's way to Burkina! Once it arrives we will only have to have it translated...and then it's off to the government. Not. much. longer!!

And more. So much more. That's it for today! Off to go swim with the girls and their friends!

He has taken up her cause.

The first day I saw her, I gasped. 

When she arrived at the orphanage over a month ago she was just skin covering bones. Painfully skinny.

She was the first child I had been in such close personal contact with that was so horribly malnourished. Yes I have seen it before. I pass adults and children on the streets everyday begging to survive, walking on feeble legs, reaching out for help with rail thin arms.

But she was the first that I had sat in such close proximity to. No barrier between us. 

I sat down beside her and reached my hand out to rest on her back. I gasped again. I shook my head. Silently whispering to myself the only word I could say, "oh Jesus, Jesus, Jesus...."

You can't imagine what it feels like to not only see a person in that physical condition, but then to lay your hands on them and feel....it took great effort not to pull my hand away from her back for fear that my touch alone would hurt her.

Every bone lay pressed up against my hand under her thin shirt.

She kept her eyes on me, watching, and began to cry when my hand came to rest on her.

I retracted. Not knowing if she cried from pain of my touch, or fear of my touch.

I reached my hand out again, she watched me, but before it came to rest on her she cried again.

I retracted once more. She was indeed afraid of me....

That first day I saw her at the orphanage I was told that she had arrived just two days prior. Her mother was suffering from extreme mental illness. Someone saw them on the streets and reported her to Social Action. Social Action came and found the mother and child and took her away due to her complete inability to care for her daughter. The girl is now living at the orphanage and will be placed for adoption.

That is all I was told.

But living here and spending so many months observing and watching and absorbing this life....I can picture without difficulty what her life was like prior to her arrival.

There is no form of help here for people suffering from mental disorders. There is no treatment. There is nothing. Those deemed crazy and mentally unfit are literally left to wander the streets. Once a year or so some form of the government will try to "round up" the obvious ones they see, particularly the naked ones, and they drive them far outside the city limits and dump them off in the middle of no where to get rid of them. They are outcasts of society. 

So her mother was likely left to scrounge around and find food where she could. To survive in deplorable conditions. With a child. A child that was present but horribly neglected. It had to have been quite bad. Which is why I believe God had His eye on this precious girl. Because in a country so crippled by poverty where suffering is ever present, for this mother and child to cause someone to take notice of their situation and feel so compelled to report it to Social Action...it had to have been Jesus directing their eyes to see. 

The little girl looks to be close to two if not yet two years old. I have no way of really knowing. I have learned that when so severely malnourished it can cripple a child's physical growth in astonishing ways. 

I am no doctor. But I am a mother. And based off her length compared to the younger babies, and the size of her head and the amount of teeth present....I would say she's around two. I'm certain of it. Which made her physical condition even more hard. And as I sat next to her and watched her that first day in the orphanage I began to feel the Holy Spirit talk to me. Encouraging me to watch, observe, and listen carefully to His words..."Why would she cry at your touch? Look closely at her. What do you see?"......

"I see a little girl hunched over. Rail thin. She is sitting cross legged. She makes no attempt to move. She cries when I get close to her but she makes no effort to get away."

I heard the Lord whisper, "She's never seen a white person before, and she has no idea where she is or why she's been brought here.....she is scared and confused of everything right now." 

I knew I needed to proceed slowly with her. I knew I couldn't approach her with the same familiarity I shared with the rest of the children. So I settled for simply sitting next to her. Or I would observe her behavior from across the room. I would give her toys and then walk away and play with the other children and let her see that I can be trusted. I would feed her. Always watching. Always observing her progress.

I feel like one thing I have learned to do with great patience and steadfastness since moving here is observe. That was some of the single greatest advice I received before moving here, from a missionary at a women's conference that I will never forget. And I do not underestimate the absolute importance of observation. It is key to learning here.

After my first meeting with this little girl, she plagued my thoughts. I would think about her all the time, praying for her, and her condition. Isaak would come home after work and ask how my day went and I would share with him about her progress.

Everyday for the weeks following that I would go and visit she would just sit, and stare. Never making an effort to move. Never making an effort to play. She neither walked nor crawled. She just sat on the floor, hunched over and cross legged. No expressions. Unless it was to cry. No noises or babbling. Unless it was to cry.

She didn't walk or crawl because she was likely dumped on the ground and expected to sit in the same spot for hours and hours while her mother begged on the street corners or scrounged for food elsewhere. She likely didn't walk or crawl because there was nothing in her life worth moving towards. She didn't play with the toys in front of her because she didn't know how. She didn't make any noise because there was nothing worth saying.

I was looking at a child who existed but had no will to live.

It is heartbreaking to behold what a life of neglect can do to a human soul. A life void of love and purpose will cease to live even if alive.

And that is what I witnessed in this sweet girl.

But as the weeks progressed I started noticing very small changes. She still made no effort to move or babble or make facial expressions but she was beginning to slowly interact with toys around her. And she stopped crying when I touched her and eventually let me hold her without fear.

One day as they were tiling the floor on the patio outside they brought indoors a beat up couch to move it out of the way of the workers. I carried her over to the couch and stood her up in front of it and placed her hands on the cushions. To my delight, she stood. By the mercy of God her legs were strong though they were bone thin and hand never been used! She supported herself next to the couch for several minutes before settle back down cross legged. I wanted to cry! She was standing and supporting herself, even if it was with assistance! To look at her in the condition she was in when she arrived it was so clear that the Lord was beginning to usher in healing to all the seen and unseen wounds caused by her life before.

Then two weeks ago on our way to the orphanage a thought came to me as I approached my turn off the road. The Lord just blindsided me with this...."this life will not be her fate."

And I just thought on that for a while.

And the more I thought on those words, the more confident I became of them. I knew it was true. Deep down....I knew that this life will not be her fate. God is the author of this child's life and He's got a plan for this girl. This girl that I see each week, the life she's living...no will, no emotions, simply existing and seemingly defeated. Never moving. Never smiling.

That is not her fate.

God's got a plan for her. He's got something better than what she's known in store for her. 

As I entered into the orphanage moments later I immediately noticed that she was sick. They had wheeled her crib out into the main room and wrapped her in a wet cloth to keep her skin cool from the fever she had. She had bumps all over her face and was crying.

I went over to her crib with Marvelly, I held her hand, and right then and there we prayed over her. Praying that the Lord would relieve her suffering. Praising Him and pouring truth over her that there is a better life in store for her. She is not resigned to this fate. God will not hear of it! He plucked her out of a hopeless situation that would surely have led to her death and He refuses to leave her in the condition He found her in.

"He will take pity on the weak and the needy and save the needy from death. He will rescue them from oppression and violence, for precious is their blood in his sight." Psalm 72:13-14

The following week I returned, six days having passed. And as I sat down next to her that morning it took a mighty effort not to cry.....

for that sweet girl crawled over into my lap.
and then she smiled.
and then she started babbling in her sweet little voice that I had never heard before.

"this life will not be her fate." 

No it will not! Hal-le-lujah! Because He doesn't leave us as He found us. He will not leave her as he found her.

My God has got a plan for her life and it doesn't involve her wasting away in a life of despair and neglect! I serve a God who heals. Who rescues and saves. He transforms. He brings joy where hope was once lost. He is the giver of peace and purpose. And His love for us has no equal.

There is nothing, nothing, that can compete with my God. 

Prayerfully, one day, Rosalee will testify to that and proclaim His goodness for all to hear.

"You, Lord, took up my case; you redeemed my life." Lamentations 3:58

Bible study ladies night

I got together last night with my bible study group for one last group time before summer break!

The ladies in this picture represent about 1/3 (there's about 50 of us total) of the gals who participate in our Ouaga bible study. There are three groups that meet bi-monthly, two on Tuesday afternoons, and one on Thursday night which is the one I attend. Together we journey through a study in our respective groups and then get everyone together once complete for a big group night.

There are some seriously inspiring ladies up in this group. Women who I want to just sit at their feet and soak up every word of wisdom they have garnered over the years. Women so mature in their faith, so steadfast, so full of knowledge...it is an honor to be in their company and learn from them, dig into scripture with them, pray with them, and learn how to love Jesus better along side them.

There are a lot of nationalities represented in our group. We have women from Ireland, Poland, Belgium, Switzerland, England, Togo, Canada, Australia, Indonesia, Nigeria, Burkina Faso, and the U.S. There are missionaries, teachers, military spouses (actually that's just me), women with NGO's...women here for all kinds of reasons. There are women who have lived in Burkina for over 20 years. There are women new to overseas life. There are spouses, singles and married with no kids. We have a mishmash of accents and there are too many cultural differences to name. But despite all our differences, one common factor we all share is our love for Christ. And that is more substantial than anything else.

These ladies have taught me a lot this past year. And I am blessed for the Lord's grace to let me grow deeper in my walk with Him alongside such a diverse and inspiring group of ladies!

Life from an emails perspective

It always happens on the days that I most need it. And usually, I don't even know that I need it, until I receive it and am left with tears threatening to spill over my eyes from words of truth so precisely and perfectly timed.

Such was the case yesterday when I received an email from Bekah. Words of love and encouragement poured out over me. A deep pleading prayer to the Lord on my behalf. A dear friend lifting me high  which left me humbled so low for the Lord's provision over me and my heart.

Truly, He cares for us like no other. Truly, He uses others to minister to our hearts and speak His truth and promises to restore us for another day. I am so thankful for His body.

In the email last night, I wrote to Bekah about a specific area of life here that is hard and well, just different...in response to her prayer over me. I am sharing it here because it occurred to me last night that I often times find it easier to open up about the realities of daily life here when I am just conversing directly between friends, without the burden of having to write something coherent and smart on this blog.

So, here is a glimpse of life here, from an emails perspective.....

"I can't even tell you how much I needed these words. Especially for health, and "what ifs". It is so hard living in a country where the health concerns are so much different than the US. 

Living in a country where diseases that we don't even have to think about...are not eradicated here...like polio, and leprosy, and small pox. We don't have to worry about those in the States. 

NO BODY even thinks about them back home! 

And yet here....here.....they still very much afflict people!

Today at the orphanage I noticed that there was some kind of outbreak among the children. Many of the kids had developed large raised bumps on their skin. I thought maybe it might be chicken pox, but they weren't red (though that's kinda hard to tell on brown people) and not scabby. And then I came home and told Isaak and he told me not to go back tomorrow because there has been a recent outbreak of small pox in the city. When he was visiting a hospital this week he saw a pretty bad case of a man with small pox...and he wasn't hardly isolated. 

Not like you should be with a disease so contagious.

I have no clue if what the children had was small pox. One of the girls had a fever and was pretty sick and had the worst amount of bumps on her face and head. It could have been any number of things. 

It sucks not being a doctor and not knowing. :)

And seriously....to have to stand in the kitchen and pray and plead that the Lord would cover my ignorance and protect us from whatever was afflicting those children. That whatever we, because of course I was there with Marvelly, walked in on today would not manifest itself in our bodies. My gosh....to have to even pray that now. To have to even think, and wonder about the "maybes" because the "maybes" are so real here.

It's just, such a different life now. So different.

Thank you for the prayers. please tell your mom thank you for me. I think about the time in her home so much and all the words of truth and life she poured into us. I can not even believe that you are really trying to come out here. Leaves me speechless and humbled.

And that little girl so sick today....her name is Rosalee. That is the name we were going to name our other daughter if we ever had one. :)  Had to keep with the whole "lee" ending in the names. 

She has to be around 2 years old. Has to be. No way to really know for sure though. The girl is not even crawling. She was brought to the orphanage last month because her mother is mentally ill, quite severely, and did not have the ability to care for her. She was taken out of the home. Well, off the street. She just sits cross legged all the time. When she first arrived she was just skin on bones. Horribly malnourished. She cried whenever I got close to her. She wouldn't even reach for toys. She'd just sit there, and stare. As if she had no reason to live. Over the past month or so she's gotten a little bigger. But still doesn't make much of an effort to move. I look at her and think...that I would totally adopt her too. Not in a dreamy, "oh I'd adopt them all!" kind of way. But, really, I would take her in a heartbeat. I thought about that on the way to the orphanage today......"

Integrity vs. reputation

Came across this quote today...good words.....
 

 "Integrity is what you do when no one is watching; 

it’s doing the right thing all the time,

 even when it may work to your disadvantage. 

Integrity is keeping your word. 

Integrity is that internal compass and rudder that directs you to where you know you should go when everything around you is pulling you in a different direction. 

Some people think reputation is the same thing as integrity,

 but they are different. 

Your reputation is the public perception of your integrity. 

Because it’s other people’s opinions of you, 

it may or may not be accurate. 

Others determine your reputation, but only you determine your integrity."
"Integrity does not come in degrees—low, medium, or high. 
You either have integrity or you do not” 

-Tony Dungy