being left at the piano

i've been thinking a lot the past weekend about this one night last year. it was september or october.

i was alone and vulnerable and exposed.
and in a way, thats sorta how i feel now.

last year before the time Manassah entered my life i was rather stuck on the farm. i would have to hitch a ride into town or beg one of my friends from town to drive out to the farm to get me. i didn't really like doing that because its 30 minutes to the farm, then 30 minutes back to civilization, then 30 minutes to the farm to drop me off, then 30 minutes home for whichever friend it was. but i was desperate to get into town and get to church.

so i called a friend of mine to come and get me. i don't even remember everything from that day. we got to church and there was no church. so we played a bit of poker with friends. i was demolished. i can't fake or lie or anything, my face gives me away. but i love playing. really, i just love playing any game. but soon i realized after losing again, that the church was empty and so i asked and meandered my way into the sanctuary.

and there she sat. quiet and still and beckoning.

since i wasn't on my own schedule i remember whispering to shawn where i would be and that i wouldn't be leaving the piano, so he would have to come and get me when he was ready to go and take me home.

and so freely i sat and played. it was the first time i had really played since i moved here to south africa. and i was alone. something about the night quiet, and the stillness of a house of worship makes my heart sigh and relax and my fingers move and find the melody that lays buried.

i didn't realize it at first but shawn had come in and was laying down listening to me sing and worship. he said he was there awhile before i realized it. i always get embarrassed when i notice someone listening. i stopped playing, made to move away, and he gently coaxed me back to my seat. it took a few songs but i forget he was there again. the piano is my place. my happy secret place.

i heard richard come in before i saw him. he too sat and listened. i had an audience. a bit later i glanced up and realized shawn had left. he wasn't there. i asked richard what happened and he said shawn slipped out and had to leave. some phone call.

i remember the panic, the frozen paralyzing fear that gripped me. i remember not being able to think. and praying, pleading that no tears would escape. i would not cry in front of richard over something i knew was so small. i was abandoned. alone. my ride had to leave. i didn't know who to call to come get me. i was afraid. i felt so betrayed. shawn said he'd take me home, and here he had left without a word. richard could tell i was antsy and apparently the whole time he was smiling and apparently shawn's car keys were right on the floor.

but for those moments, who i was, and where i was, was enough to send me into a near tailspin.

a few more minutes passed. i had walked back to the piano. i had lifted my fingers but i couldn't play. i was alone. left. maybe it was not even a minute, i don't know. more time passed. then the familiar face reappeared. i stood. tentative. fearful. i struggled to come up with words saying i was ready to go home. but my movement was enough.

soon we were in the car. and on the way home and we didn't reach the edge of town before the tears came.

i wasn't ready to cry in front of richard (that would take about another month till we'd get to that point), but in front of shawn silent shame-filled & hot tears poured down my cheeks. it took almost the entire drive home for me to put to words the lunacy in my tears and why i had gone from so normal to so afraid. and i knew shawn wouldn't leave me but i felt he did, and it was more richards words than the absence of shawn, but i couldn't shake the anger over what i thought happened. and i couldn't stop feeling so ashamed to have doubted one man off of another man. (and isn't that so like us? constantly comparing and judging from what we know. glory, glory He doesn't do that!)

i was vulnerable. and exposed. and there wasn't much i knew here yet, or understood, and what i thought i understood in having a friend to depend on, and then having that friend go against everything (so i thought) and leave, and being abandoned...it was too soon to feel that.

i cried because i thought it had happened again. someone i trusted left me. and i cried because i didn't know how to be fixed. and i cried because i'd just have called my parents in america and at least they could tell me who to call and how to get home and i was all alone in a strange place.

all alone in a strange place.

i've been thinking about that night a lot lately. wondering how i'd react now? would it be the same? would i laugh at the teasing? would i look and notice the keys before i felt it was true? i don't know. i don't know.

but i do know that i see growth in my life in simple things. in small things. today i see growth in that i have a host of people i would call if i was really abandoned somewhere. in the fact that i wasn't abandoned that day, nor since and that He will never ever leave me.
growth is often painful and confusing.
and thats the point, right? so we don't stay confined to the shell we're living in. so we branch out and spread wide wings and go soar.
higher than the last time.
with stronger wings, and more gumption in our tail feathers.

when i can figure out why i keep replaying that story i will be sure to share....i feel like there are nuggets there from Jesus for me, and i think i have an idea of where and why its heavy but He does tend to move in mysterious ways and so i wait. i am waiting....

while i wait, let me count up more endless gifts...35-53

• for good friends who i can cry in front of
• growing up in Jesus and growing stronger
• parents who made me diligently practice piano every day even when i was grumbly and complaining
• a sister who showed me how to write music and create
• truth, good, painful, real truth spoken over me
• a marvelous weekend away
• new favorite drink: red cappuccino
• new favorite fruit: persimmons
• someone gifting the Brits family with real maple syrup from america. oooooo SO, so good to me!
• not having to drive to jozi this weekend
• falling asleep to the sound of the wind whipping in the car.
• in fact, car naps in general
• sleepy boys who love to snuggle when they wake up from their naps
• sleepy little boys who smile when i smile at them
• potato soup on cold winter days
• LOST. wow. tonight was so intense!!
• the bulls won the championship on saturday night. its so superficial but it seriously made me so delighted
• little amelie and i playing make believing all day sunday.

a mindless normal day

i have deadlines to meet.
places to go.
people to see.

i have homies to my right.
homies on my left.
not really, that last part at least.
no homies for me.

i have little jacques directly in front of me drawing and writing. he's abnormally subdued since i made him do wall sits for disobeying. they worked for me in basketball practice to get better at making my free throws, and they worked marvelously for him just now. kid is stone faced repentant and scared and its almost freaking me out. nicole is just to my right finishing up her homework. we're waiting on her to finish so we can make our cookies. i felt like it was a goodnight for cookie baking.

but, uh...isn't any night a good night to bake cookies? YES! yes. of course, yes.

i'm off to jozi for the weekend to stay with lelane and her family. my family, or at least my parents in the states, are off to the cabin.

i'd rather be at Little Beaver with them and the deer and bears and the linx. but jozi is a very good second option. and i hear lelane lives on a hill. and it overlooks the city and i think i could be quite happy if that is true. we'll have to see.

i'm leaving at mid-day. and i can not wait. like i could barely sleep last night i was so excited and i have such nervous excitement butterflies in my belly even now!! geez, calm down, rebekah! you'd think i never did anything off this farm, or for fun, or anything for how giddy i am feeling.

i can't wait because as much as i enjoy the farm and love being outdoors in nature and passing sable and a million other critters on my way to work each morning i love cities. lancaster ruined me for them. and more than loving city life, i really think so much more freely and quickly in a new place. i guess i'm a gypsy at heart because i like the constant coming and going and change. and i'm so looking for Jesus to speak into some very specific areas of my life for guidance and next steps and just to hear Him. i'm achy to be still and listen.

before lunch today i felt like laughing and i truly have the most perfect job for quick pick-me-ups. so i sat on the floor and snatched up the nearest wee one and we tickled and giggled and i blew on bellys and we laughed and we laughed and like always happens the crowd arrived quickly. and so soon we were all rolling on ground and laughing and i lost calories and more than that, i let in Holy Spirit air and it filled and flowed out and it was marvelous.

i've become quite amazing at convincing the boys they must take an afternoon nap.
(side note: o dear, just realized its Thursday and this is already over three minutes. o well...)
so they are all laying down. all of a sudden matthew sorta wakes up. enough that he was able to stand, not enough that he was thinking. and in typical boy form, he pulls his pants down and uses the pillow as a toilet. no joke. i'm hearing this pee hit the pillow and looking over and seeing splashing and my mouth hangs open and i stare in shock and hilarity and what can i do? its already over and i just laugh. and shake my head. and grab him.

i have never heard of a girl forgetting something is in fact NOT a toilet and using it as such, only boys, and i've heard stories like that so often...what is it with you, men?!?!

its not at all surprising to me that it was matthew either. he is the one that quite regularly puked and peed on me all of last fall till he learned to adjust to being in a school and not at home and till he learned me and i learned him. yup. it was that matthew. gotta love him. at least he doesn't' pee on me anymore and its just the pillow. which can be washed. and at least he pulled his pants down so i dont have to wash those...

let me tell you what. if this job hasn't given me a more humble, servanthood, and patient heart nothing will. and i bet i'll be a much better mother some day for how much its calmed me this constant chaos and figuring out how to work in that and how to thrive in that...yes, yes, its possible. i tell you. these boys teach me more than i teach them.
every time.
every day.

simba's blood, and how it dripped on me

little crimson drops spread on the white shirt i wore today.

i wear clothes to cover up my skin, my heart, my thoughts. i wear them because society tells me too. though strangarity genes scream "freedom!" i whisper "no, no, no" and gather something semi-matchy matchy, thats presentable and waltz out the door.

little Simba dog was shot this morning at a neighboring farm. its all still a bit surreal. he is a much loved dog on this farm. two holes. in and out. shaved skin, droopy eyes, and heart cringing yelps of pain escape his little mouth. he whimpers with each movement. no side is good to lay to find comfort because the evidence of pain and opening is there, is everywhere. each turn, its there. i shudder to think how i would feel with the marks of what happened...*

i walked home from school today and met my family on the drive. i sat in the back with jacquie and nicole. simba was crying from the pain of the bumps. these farm roads do not soften bullet wounds. i climbed in, i didn't think. i reacted. i reached and held and gave stability as much as possible to brace and take the bumps myself. only minutes later realizing that i was wearing white.

white to cover my white.
cloth to cover my skin.

and simba had dripped and his red blood poured on me.
and i was marred.

we got home and i gathered pillows and blankets and cleaned and scrubbed blood, and then i saw myself. i paused in the mirror upstairs. i saw me. i paused and i saw me still. i lingered. and as much as i am ever able to see what lies in the deep, i lay uncovered.

the red spotting my white.

and i undressed slowly. whispering prayers for simba, and myself as i did so.

i like wearing white. its so clean and fresh and i think better when i have white on. and my skin isn't so nice and creamy milk white like some of my friends, but i am, by far, the whitest in the family, and i tan a nice shade of white and you'd never know the sun and i met. and still i wear white. because i like it.

and i put on cloth to cover and i haven't really thought before of wearing white to enact and hope it changes me and purifies me, but i do like the light more than the dark. and perhaps maybe subconsciously i have put on white to make me feel more clean. make me feel more alive and just fresh.

and i wear clothes to cover up what i don't want you to see. and i wear little masks to cover what i don't want to see or show. and i'll paint my nails and wear mascara and twirl and swirl and pitter patter on and wonder if its working or not. do i cover up half as well as i think? and do i want to?

its awfully amazing the thoughts that are conjured up when your beloved dog has been shot.

simba's blood stained me. and i watched the droplets spread over my clothes. and strangely all i wished was for it to cover and coat more.

somehow, red blood always makes me think of the cross. and how i wish to be coated full so it stays. how easily i forget that the once dripping was enough for ever. for all. how silly i am. how often i forget.

i don't need more of the crimson to come today. enough was spilled that day. enough for today.
and i don't need to find and search and hope for something to cover me and what i wish no one will know, and that not even myself, sees.

his blood is altogether enough for me and its coated and soaked through and its all and everything and more. and no need for me to wear anything or need more red drops to cover either....

and i sang little shouts of praise that i am coated in His blood. and i am free to live and be and wear myself and my heart cloth-less. and His blood has sang and danced and washed me and no amount of stain-remover can remove the parts that he's branded and bought and paid for. and i rejoice and sigh deep that i'm all at once clean white new and also oozing the red blood of life. all at once. all at once.

little simba was shot today. please say a prayer. this beloved family dog will heal and be running soon again and that the circumstances around it will be smoothed and somehow good, deep, peace will come....

*normally, farm life is not this exciting, this terrible. in fact, most days pass in a semi-vegetable like state where i search and see and discover beauty. today was a bad day. but He's holding little simba. and i'm not worried about being shot myself...for numerous reasons not blog worthy...so, relax mom and dad. love you *smile*

Jesus and laying on the grass

i just need Jesus.
i need Jesus to come, come sweet and swift and bring more of His love and goodness to me. i need more of His eyes to see. to see the beauty when i see broken, and pain, and frustration. i need more Jesus eyes to give me more time so i don't need sleep when there is so much to do. i need Jesus heartbeats to pour out of me days i just want to stay in close.

today my entourage of little men arrived. they missed the memo it is cold and monday lets be grumpy. well, a few of them got the memo. the rest were all bright-eyed smiles. how they melt me.

i have three now that are two. three two year old boys. 9 under five. all boys. all go-go-go! how i love that they are patient with me as i learn how to teach them better, how to explain more, how to quiet in patience and let their hearts expand and reach and create and form.

i spent a lot of time laying the grass with them today. whenever the day doesn't turn out like i had hoped and planned i have come to the point of throwing it away and just having fun with them. forget trying to get them to write their names. forget forcing them to sit still and lets try again. lets just go play outside. which is probably a bad attitude but i just feel they'll have years and years of school and as long as they understand and recognize their numbers and shapes and colors and letters i feel successful. i mostly want them to be loved. want them to enjoy school. want them to have fun. and i want to kiss all over their little chocolate and cream skin and share hugs and secrets.

so today we just rolled around in the grass. got all sorts of dirty. lost all sorts of calories laughing and laying. when enough of them are tickling and sharing and joining in i forget there is a grown up world i live in that has lots of aches and pains and i should be fearful and praying but instead i'm just laying on the grass having fun.

and thats really the point, isn't it? just to lay, roll around in the dirt and the green and laugh? to share hugs and kisses and secrets?

i am counting more of the endless gifts today. more secrets i have whispered up during the day: 17-34

• sticky little fingers that reach up and squeeze my cheeks 'hello'
• cooking dinner for a friend
• bed heaters 
• episodes of LOST
• skype. and my sister and mother and seeing their faces, finally
• red sweaters and winter hats
• manny worked today as i drove him home and to visit a friend. how marvelous in this winter weather to have a car. 
• thick, strong, black coffee
• new friends
• big boys who love when i sit at their table, eat my food with them, then feed them as they crowd around me and take turns for me to reach their mouth with their spoon with their food.
• big boys who don't seem to tire of me wanting to smother them in love and be catered too.
• honoring a former professor this past weekend and thinking of how he's impacted my life
• rusks. buttermilk rusks
• water bottles
• listening to a friend share her heart in the tiny copier room and praying and crying too.
• feeling the deep seated He is with me and life is crazy but i somehow feel fixed and strong and that is only Him growing in me....
• afternoon naps surrounded by little ones
• trusted friends watching over me and the kids sleeping so i'm able to sleep. bless you, becca!

may you spend today just rolling around in the green and dirt and be awakened to laugher and simple times and record your endless gifts. a grateful heart can't leave space for fear or anxiety. i will whisper this truth to myself as i fall asleep tonight and count off more...

flying to Dubai

brownies are in the oven.
just finished watching the Blue Bulls win tonights game. that means next week is the final. back to back wins.
i was here last year and watching them win it all was half the reason i became a bulls fan and decided that indeed i do think "God is calling me to africa." ha! but for real...i did so LOVE watching the rugby games last may and any country that has such passion and drive is fine by me and of course, this is blue country here on the farm so its only natural i like the bulls...

i just got done purchasing a ticket for a vacation in june. in the dead of winter. i will be missing one of the world cup games i was going to go to. a game to see my favorite player in the entire world play in. but its worth it. i'm still a bit jittery that its all come together and its going to happen. i've NEVER taken a vacation to another country.

i'm flying up to Dubai for a few days to see my college roommate, her husband and the new baby girl. you better believe there are bottled up Merryn hugs and kisses and this auntie's heart is aching to meet that little girl. i'm also excited because i will pass both parents on countries visited and slept in (love ya, mom and dad!) and in this family those bragging rights are impressive, and, well...bragged on. *smile*

it will be so sweet for so many reasons. there is something about being in the company of dear heart-friends that is healing. ellen and dan have always been such wisdom-filled people and i am deeply looking forward to time away to pray, think, and have their input in my life. due to where elly and dan live and minister and how nomadic my life is i wouldn't see them for at least 4 years if not now, and i am just very gracious and blessed to be able to fly up and meet them. seriously. my heart is fully and my eyes are weeping tears of joy and gratitude.

speaking of bragging. my little baby sister has her graduation party today. she graduates from high school and with her CNA and already has a full-time job. i love you Natalie Grace. I am SO SO SO proud of you. i remember the day you arrived home from the airport, all 13 years of Russian. terrified, wide-eyed, sleepy and adorable. you were so little then, and now you are my grown sister and graduating high school. i love you little sister. i miss you. and i am terribly proud of you today. african hugs and kisses are sent to you tonight!

weekly roundup vol. 8

i have exceeded my upload limit when it comes to photos. i haven ever been a fan of blogspot. i'm thinking after finding this out, its my cue to leave and go elsewhere.
ahhhhh
why? i haven't even had this site for a year. its a bit frustrating i must say. what to do? where to go? i wonder if can convince my one of my cousins to design something for me. because this whole you can't upload anymore photos thing is not gonna cut it when this is my way main way to communicate visuals and joy from life here to the life i said by to in the states (hey family!).

not sure what to do. even today i had in my cue lots and lots to upload...anyone know of a way to add more? hmmmm

what did you like around the web this week?

i've been pouring over this article all week. its interesting and provoking and all about adoption.

this is beautiful. just lovely.

i've seen a few of these. and i've wanted to see them all for quite a bit! i LOVE documentaries. awesome!

this, along with this, sometimes freak me out about teaching the wee ones. reality is, they are like me. talk like me, walk like me, do what i do...its a big deal shaping their lives.

30 years later.

this kid is amazing. wow. just, wow.

they nod in close, and i do too. its our morning fix.

there are little bubbles of spring in my heart.
in my mind.
and i don't know how to put to paper what is stirring, and being removed, and encouraged.

a friend is writing a book. its one of the most exciting things i've ever been a part of. and its a small part. and i'm not even really a part of it. my part consists in being blessed to receive email drafts weekly if not daily and share what moves and stirs and what can be re-worked and what is good, and really there are never any grammatical edits. its a book i believe in with so much of my being it almost aches. each chapter, each sentence, each little section just pricks little Jesus heartbeats in me and i feel at once broken and healed and loved up and over and complete. its a book about suffering and pain and it isn't just little nice sunday school answers that praying this prayer and reading this passage will help you. it is much more gruesome and real and hope-filled and i. love. that.

i love that, because the more i sit with Jesus and just pour and read and sit and pour and read and sit in the gospels with Him the more i realize i've sorta screwed Him up in my mind and He's a lot more radical then i like to think of Him. and i love that. i love the passion and feelings and re-reading what He did and who He is and how He cares for the marginalized and sick and the diseased and He could've cared less for those running business, those running towns, the ones making decisions, and running nonprofit's, and the presidents, and the learned ones* and He just longed to sit with the wee little ones and He was moved be swift and sweet compassion and He felt. He felt.

oh, He felt and i see how all His feelings wrapped up together and no box can hold how He moves from one feeling to the other in a moment and He wasn't ashamed....

each morning the boys and i have begun to play a little game. its called hugfest-hide-and-seek. i listen closely by the window for little foot falls and little voices talking and laughing as early morning fog drifts in and out by the school house. i listen. i hear the faintest whispers of their coming home to me. i wait till i hear they are at the door. sliding glass and i peek around the corner and get glances of winter hats and gloves despite the fact its not even in the 50s yet. these african blooded ones are chilly when the morning is still bright with new dew mornings full of love.

i peek my head round the corner. they pause at the door. our eyes lock together. slow smiles creep up over cold faces. the door opens. i kneel. arms outstretched and i hear giggles and running as they race to fall into me. we pause and linger like that for a few moments. letting the morning chill wash away in warm embraces of love. they tuck into me and we pull closer and speak hellos and how are you and i missed you and i glance down to see little smiles and feel the nodding of heads against each part they cling to.

of course that isn't how every day goes. some days i pause at the door and wait. eager for my morning full of their hugs. the drug that is sweeter than honey and healing to my own cold morning bones. somedays i just pause and sit and watch eager for the running and jumping and slamming of body against body. but they pause. they give a nod and shoulder shrug that speaks they don't need my warm hug today. in fact, all they care for is "why can't i eat my chappie now?" and "i want to play with legos, now!" i pause in those moments and wonder what happened their desire isn't there anymore for my morning hug. was i harsh yesterday? did they sleep bad? is my hair really that crazy in the morning? my thoughts can run together and together and beggar's questions fill my mind.

but that only lasts so long. these african ones, all of them, need the morning hugs and small moments of connection as much as i do. and so shortly we will meet in a hug and warmth is shared and connections are made.

some mornings dont go as i planned with my morning hugs. some do. sometimes life doesn't work out how i planned. sometimes it does. i guess thats why this book has me so excited and energized. because its wonderful. and encouraging...

and no matter if mornings consist of dew hugged connections or of toys being chosen first, they all can end the same. they all end with me in utter need of Jesus to speak life into my bones and prayers and pleas that He lay down deep what He showed me in spending so much time with these little ones who just always speak God-whispered lessons to my heart.

because no matter the moment of the day, He is there speaking and loving and He is the one that brings the morning dew and fill of love. and that will never shift or change and is not determined by our wants and desires and longing for lesser things to fill and come.
He is the one that will gently, always peek His head round the corner and wait expectant for me to walk home, then wait all arms-outstretched and i will stand and our eyes will meet and lock and we pause and i linger in the look He brings my heart and then door opens and i full of giggles, run and leap and nuzzle in close and my head nods as He bathes me in His love and words and welcome and we stay like that till He's warmed me up from morning chill and then i too run off on my way all full of morning light.

its not just my morning routine with my little ones. its my morning routine with Him and i'm His little one. and each morning, or, at least the good mornings, we meet in that warm embrace and i nod into Him for my fill. and listen as words of welcome dance across the crevices of what is. and His words are my honey and healing. and it is good.

*but glory! glory! glory! that He too cares for those running towns, and presidents and leaders and He moves swift for them too for they are broken sick also but in different ways. and somehow He is all-together what is needed there and what is needed everywhere and in small ways that intimate little dust hearts of ours can feel and know and we step back and sigh that He is what is healing and redeeming and we glory! glory! glory! for He is good.
just, good.

wanna be one of them

i have few words tonight. my heart feels at once full and empty and hopeful and confused and expectant.

i listened to this song of sara's on the way home tonight.*

on repeat. over and over.

i had goosebumps and was crying by the time i reached home.

i just so ache to be one of them.

to be one that has a story written. to be the one that lives a story.

i am in the middle of my story. and i want to live it well.

i want to live it so that others are inspired to live their stories well.

i want to be counted among the saints that gave up everything, sacrificed everything, and ran to Jesus with all reckless abandon. 

there is just something in the building of the melody, the stirring of the words, and the way they connect with my heart.

setting captives free.

let the blind see! let the bounds be broken.

Christ has come and we are free.

Glory glory, hallelujah. I feel it in my bones.

He is coming, friends. He is coming.

.....................................................
And when the Saints go marching in
I want to be one of them
And when the Saints go marching in 
I want to be one of them

I see the long quiet walk along the Underground Railroad
I see the slave awakening to the value of her soul 

I see the young missionary and the angry spear
I see his family returning with no trace of fear

I see the long hard shadows of Calcutta nights
I see the sister standing by the dying man's side

I see the young girl huddled on the brothel floor
I see the man with a passion come and kicking down the door

I see the man of sorrows and his long troubled road
I see the world on his shoulders and my easy load
.............................
i added the italics to sara's lyrics.

*if that is the wrong song, or poor quality or something funky appears, i wasn't able to get the video to load, i just saw the opening shot and the title...so my african ability to preview is stunted just now.

Things I learned this weekend

What I discovered again, anew this weekend.

• I'm a control freak.
• I still don't really like group projects. Love me a great group (and this was one), hate the feeling of wanting to get the task done, while everyone else wants to talk and share stories and what not. And hate how I can't relax and enjoy the conversing when deadlines loom in my head.
• I'll always be more task-oriented then people oriented and that will always surprise everyone. myself included.
• I get to emotionally attached to imaginary things. Like the kids I wrote. 
• I really like being outdoors in the sun, with leaves and trees all around me.

Most of these are not new things. This past weekend I was away with six other people on a writing and brainstorming weekend. We had a deadline. Today. We had over 48 stories to write. My head hurts from thinking. My eyes hurt from looking at my laptop screen all weekend. My heart hurts for writing what was needed but painful.

It was a weekend of laughter. It was a weekend of questioning and clarifying and figuring out how to say this or how to say that. It was filled with character development. Why would so and so do this? Why would they not do that? On and on the back and forth went till we were confident enough in who each character was. Then the writing began. Then the re-writing began. Followed by the editing. Then the frustrations rang out. Coffee was consumed. There was a bushbaby that peed on everyone but Rita. (yes, this includes me too). There was good food that we ate. There was a heated bed. There was an outdoor shower. There was the mountain and the baby giraffe, twice, was seen.

I can't process all the little ways my heart is thinking and feeling now. I just feel good being finished. It's finished. My part is finished, well, my main part is finished. Small edits, revisions. The book writing process is hard and complicated and slave-master editors (love you, tommy!) make you meet these deadlines. Do not editors realize that creative minds don't like deadlines?!?! 

I have missed catching up with heart-friends and I have lacked sleep. 

Now I go and clean out my old place and prepare lesson plans for the coming week. 

Bye bye weekend. Perhaps next weekend I'll see your rest days.

Weekly roundup vol. 7

I am spending the weekend on the top of my farm. I say the top because its on the mountain. I live below the mountain. I will be spending my Saturday brainstorming and writing and creating with like-minded people. Strangers. At least, I'm expecting it to be stranger-filled. I like strangers.

My aunt Lori sent me an email congratulating me on acquiring my very first parasite. Considering this is the 22nd country I've lived/ministered in, I'm surprised it took so long. Since its out of my system now, I threw a little jig and ate cookies.

Enjoy your saturday, friends, and here are somethings that moved me this past week:

I like when bad guys go to jail. I just wish it was longer....

This is so sad. Reminds me of The Kite Runner.

Why is no one talking about the horrible TN flooding?!?

This is so sad. I haven't gone for a walk on the farm since hearing about this last Saturday when it occurred. Hannes, who is quoted in the magazine is a friend of mine from church. She was pregnant too. Life is just so short, love, just love richly.

Things you can't do when you're not a dog. So true!!! SO funny!!!

I really want to throw a picnic and have these as my show-stoppers!

The end. Just reading it makes me cry.

I Will Carry You. Free. Get it.

To whom shall I go?

In the past six months a whole new world has been opened up to me. Its a world I never wanted to understand, never wanted to be a part of.

Its a world of the rejected, the deserted, the abandoned, the divorced.

Of course I joined that group awhile ago, but it was begrudgingly. I tried to stay on the fringe. I tried to be all there with my D-friends at our meetings, in our email exchanges, and late black night phone calls, but deny them when I was away from them. I so loathed being part of them.

Such shame I have in what's become of my life... by choices I really had no control over and had no part in.

But I think something freeing clicked in my heart about six months ago. I began to not only enjoy the new friendships I have formed. I relished the way they understood. Some would say they understand, some compare hard break-ups, but you simply can't understand the betrayal, devastation, and hurt of a vow being shattered and a promise broken unless you've seen a spouse walk away personally. You just can't. And be glad you can't. I have lots of good friends and support I never intended to have in my life, and I love them all so but I still wish to not know them. But how sweeter they have made my life, my journey.

Then He began to bring morning dew to water my parched heart. And life-words always spread like wildfire.

The Breath of Life breathes even when all seems dead and lost and He has gone before me and whispered help pleas into my path from others who've, against their wishes too, joined my secret D-club.

Somehow advice and help and encouragement have been springing up like streams in the desert and I watch, and awe-stare in Him using wee bits of me to bless others. I eagerly wait returned emails hearing how My Sweet Jesus also moves in their lives and speaks desire and belonging and hope where others have sown seeds of death. My dear Jesus is in the business of replacing every broken curse with life-giving love. Love that is not held back from anything, or by anything.

A dear friend of mine who understands and always pushes me into love stained hands said how even in utter desperation, where is there to go but Jesus? For He only has the words of Eternal Life.

Peter actually said it first.

The point is, yes! Where is there to go but Him? No matter how lost and hurting life is, its always so much worse without him. I love what John says about all this too; you may read it here. There is nowhere. There is nowhere that is better than being under His Rod and His Staff and hearing the voice of your Good Shepherd call out your name.

Because I write when I'm not intending. When I have no proper form of dictation in front of me, and when He stirs something....a surprise visit to two separate churches this week with silent filled rooms holding beloved pianos found me sitting and hammering out a love song. One that is for my beloved group of abandoned ones as much as it is for me.

When I said, "take my heart," I mean it. I guess you knew it.

I said, "take my life, make it what you want it."

but I didn't know then what I know now,

this has not been for the fainthearted.

When I said "I trust you," then you sent the darkness.

I said, "I'd follow you," and then your voice became the distance.

I never thought it would be like this,

that my faith would falter at the brink.

Where would I go?

Where would I go?

Only you have the words of life.

Only you have the words of life.

Where would I go?

When I said "I'd go," I never thought you'd put me here.

Said "I love you," and I do and now it brings sweet tears.

You have always been right here with me with

every single thought and every single prayer.

Where would I go?

Where would I go?

Only you have the words of life.

Only you have the words of life.

Where would I go?

You said you'd bandage me, bind up every wound.

Said you'd comfort me and fight off all my fools.

Weary, I had tried and tried to run away,

but my heart is set its here to stay.

.............................................

When there is nothing else to do, and no hope left, and the floor has given way to pain upon pain, He's right there. He's the one with eternal life. May you run to him, go to Him today. I'll be sitting there with you on His tender lap as He washes us in His healing-love words. 

Haiti and my lisp

8:29am

Three of my friends have forced haiti to stay on the forefront of my heart. Its unreal.

Two of them have been there the past weeks. Yu can follow them here and here. It makes my heart sick and heavy hearing about how depoloable the circumstances are and how so much is lacking. Other friends of mine decided action was needed and with the proding of their 9 year old decided to do something different. They spent an entire weekend on public grounds in tents to simulate how the Haitians are living. Plans for a larger scale "in-your-face" are in the works. It has changed them as a family. It reminds me of steven curtis' family and how they started the adtoption process because emily, (I think she was around 9-11 at the time), told her parents they needed too. Three little girls later....

I love their little faces as they adjust to me.
I have 3 two year olds now. They attach themselves to my legs and are little growths that travel with me where ever I go. I love them. Their little smiles and squeals.

I love when I can get most of them busy and then pull one or two away for one-on-one time. The progress I see in those moments is amazing. They are learning and growing. Their little white teeth smiles move me.

8:32
I must go but last night I was told I have a lisp. For real? No one has ever said that but as I was stumbling over every word I must confess I heard it too. Wow.
So heres to being almost a quater century and learning something new about myself.
Lisp speakers of the world unite!
ps: mom/friends...is it true? Do I really have a lisp and no one had the courage to tell me?!?!

things they say

I say: "Boys please put that down. We don't beat each other with books."
One of them says: "Yes, Bekah, my lady."

I say: "Boys, sit and eat your food nicely."
One of them says: "Bekah, hey, can you get me some water please, babe?"

one of them says: "hey Bekah, I love you. Can I have a hug?"
three seconds pass...
"Can we now please watch cinderella."

I hear from one of them: "Sweets, can we please color now?"

I guess my saying over and over.
"Hi my sweets."
"I love you my sweets."
"Way to go, my babe."
"Come my little men. No, I'm not your little man. I'm a lady, and I'm not little."
"Time to eat my men. Come my sweets."

all these and so many variations are rubbing off. This week it near killed me hearing them say "my sweets," or, "my lady," or, "babe."
seriously?!?! Seriously?!?!

hahahahhahah
Oh, I love them so much. I really need to get better at having them call me miss, or auntie, or something more formal...but I just secretly smile so much hearing them say these silly pet names back to me.

what a failed TOEFL showed me

i have a friend from spain who has been living in the US on and off for a year. she's taken the TOEFL i think 4 or 5 times now. each time she is within 4 points of passing. each time she has failed. the most recent time she failed this was her fb status:

"Hey guys, thanks for praying; I didn´t pass the TOEFL; Let´s give thanks to the Lord for He is good and He always answers our prayers :)"

uhh....really? 

thats not what i was thinking after hearing she failed. i mean, i was frustrated for her. but all she wanted to do was give thanks to the Lord for He is good and answers our prayers?!? 

i can't tell you how this has hit me. this un-wavering hope in the promise of God and trusting that if we pray for His will to be done and believe He is good, and so that whatever comes is where and what He wants to be coming.

I don't think I can explain it all fully. but her grateful heart amidst disappointment has rocked me.

so i will offer more of the endless gifts. the giving back to Him of what he has given me.

1) a fun hat from the parentals. one that the boys love as much as me.

(because you asked, my dear missy. only because you asked...*smile*)

2) manassah. who continues to let me bless others and be free to seek encouragement myself.

3) various care packages that arrived this week

4) a 30 minute phone call with my mom last night to hear joy and enjoy her friendship 

5) health

6) dove chocolate bars

7) wonderful responses from supporters after my recent update letter. 

8) my SA poppa introducing me to a good men he wants me to marry and the hilarity it brings me living in this house

9) celebrating Mothers Day here with my Roelene saturday, and having vetkoek for dinner and Harry Potter for dessert 

10) random strangers who carry tool boxes in their car and help me out

11) surprising my SA poppa by holding a conversation in Afrikaans with him over supper

12) headaches that my fortitude in studying this language brings. 

13) worship, especially semi-old songs that still move my heart in gratefulness and awe.

14) my bed. a warm place to lay my head in sleep.
15) students named PP and Dudu. yes, i said pp and dudu. every time i call them i giggle. only in africa!
16) little african brother going on picnic's with God 

Happy Mother's Day!!

(last July fourth)

To the a women I would be blessed to become half as wonderful, sacrificial, and loving as.

my mom. 

the women who has given me dutch and german roots, and my face and thunder thighs :)

thank you for the many blessings you pour into my life and others. you are outstanding among ten million and i rise up this day and call you blessed among all mothers.

i praise Jesus i was born in your heart and nurtured in your womb and raised in your home.

i love you, mom!

(Mothers Day 09 just before Sadie's arrival)

to the big sister who's held my hand and defended me to others. to the one who makes me laugh every moment. to the one who was born to be a mother. i can't believe how fitting you are and how you excel at teaching seana and sadie. you are amazing, abi, and i rise up and bless you today.

(july fourth, 09. just enjoying life and sunshine together)

to the women who bore shame and scorn to raise a baby girl. to the one who has prayed more prayers for me than anyone, every day, for the past 24 years of my life. to the one who gives gracious gifts to me and sends me consistent letters of love and encouragement and life, grandma, i praise the Lord for your faithfulness to Him. i thank Him for giving you a love for sports and dedication and perseverance. good gifts that generations are walking in the blessings you laid down with your prayers and tears. thank you.

and to my grandma, Hilda. who has given me her hands and fingers, her height, her love for crafts, my father, and strength. i remember spending the night with you and sitting and reading books. i miss you and honor you today, too.

to Mothers everywhere....you are the backbone of family. i am grateful this day.

four minutes with the Mad Hatter Hat

4:27pm

I'm so sleepy tonight.

the Mad Hatter Hat has found its way to the Jumping Monkeys and we are all delighted in it. Though, really, only Perfect has the guts to wear it and not a fear it will attack him. It was his special privilege all day long to have it on his head. adorable kid, eh?

The sun shines and blue blue wide open skies danced across the horizon. What a day to welcome a friend here to share the burden and joy these little boys afford me.

A parent stopped by this morning. A new wee one will come tomorrow. In diapers. Joy. Another boy. Of course. He must know I need them still. Or they need me still. Or either way they and me, we are not finished with each other. I wonder what would happen the day a little one in pink walks thru the door. I might cause a fright and stare. Or just gather close and hug gently.

I think the colds everyone else has are creeping up on me. It gets more and more painful to sallow. I wonder if that will end or change. I plan on saying hello to my pillow in a few moments now. That will be so nice.

I am tired. No more thoughts flow through my mind. Can you believe it? THis is my brain on lack of sleep!

Oh! EVERYONE should please read this book, or listen to it. i have been listening to it after downloading it for free and it is cracking me up. It is so much what I think and I just love his humour.

Times up:
its 4:31pm

Cinco De Mayo!

Happy Cinco de Mayo day!

Being a fourth Hispanic I tend to think of this holiday as my homecoming of sorts. Of course, no one outside of the US celebrates it, but still.....

Today a friend arrived from the states! Happy day!

She brought an entire suitcase of happy things from home! Happy Day!

One of those was a hat---photos to come tomorrow! Happy Day!

And the book I wrote about last week. Seriously, mom and dad?!?! Happy Day!

And some of my favorite cookies! And Goldfish!! and Beef Jerkey! Happy Day!

And they sent photos of my nieces and family from Disney! Happy Day!

I'm chatting on skype to two of my dearest dearest friends, (hey, Marcia and Melissa), and they bless me. Happy Day!

It is thursday tomorrow! Happy Day!

I had the best time talking and praying and being discipled up in polokwane today! Happy Day!

I have a long night ahead of me of writing stories...I must go....so looking forward to the weekend..

Manassah

Manassah means: "The Lord has caused me to forget my past."

it all began about two years ago. probably longer. he was much loved by her. prayers were uttered over everything she owned. a rededication and anointing, her car, of course, was part of the praying. when they came to him, a prophesy: "He will be used for ministry." she took it, sat confused, and questioning, thinking to herself:
"well, i do use the car to take girlfriends out for coffee and encourage them. i guess thats what was meant?"
and it was forgotten. for two years. till friday two weeks ago.

my boss called inquiring after an add. he explained who i am a little. he explained what i am doing here in ZA. he explained what i needed the car for and how i would use the car.
in a moment the prayer, the prophesy was remembered. she would tell me she knew instantly i would be buying the car, even though it took me a week of tests and questions and emails and phone calls to be sure myself.

on saturday i laid eyes on Manassah for the first time.

i couldn't believe after almost five months of looking a car has finally matriculated. i have learned patience. grace. perseverance. appreciation. gratitude. so many hard life lessons as i waited.

he's perfect for me. a whimsical green color. old. full of history and life and worn-in. and he's cute and dainty and little in a sturdy sort of way.

we sat drank cold drinks together and chatted about life. she told me all about the prayers and how she loved him and will miss him. and i fought for a sense of normalcy and calm as her words bathed over me.

"two years ago....two years ago...two years ago..."
the only words that sank in that weaved their way into the fabric of my heart and mind.
"Lord! You knew? You knew even then? how?"

i will not cry in front of a stranger. i will not cry in front of a stranger*.
the mantra rang in my head.
i blinked back tears as i tried to grasp all she was sharing. for you see, she didn't know. she couldn't have. in fact. no one, save the Holy One who knit me in my mother's womb could possibly know. know i would be here today. here and needy.

two years ago last week was the bottom of the abyss. the lowest of the low points i have yet to see. and if i knew then a car was set apart for me i would have laughed in your face. because africa, and ministry, and living were so far removed from anything i wanted in that moment.

but He knew. and He saw. and He set before me like a lamp to my feet little guideposts to get here today. He knew i would be beyond frustrated waiting so long for a car. He knew i clung to hope and faith but seriously doubted anything would ever materialize. He knew what it would require to get me back to Africa.


people: He freakin planned a car for me, for today, over two years ago! 

i can not get over nor grasp the goodness of Him to me in His beckoning me and shaping me and how He has set before me this gift of blessing.

and so, his name is now Manassah. i wanted a good name. a strong name. i always loved Manassah and Ephraim and how they were children of promise after all the heartache Joseph experienced. i love both their names, but Manassah: to forget the past. that is a name i love.

two years ago he prepared and set apart this car for me. that attention to detail blows my mind. it fills me with ever greater hope in what He is preparing and doing in me now that i can't see.

.............................
*we're already fb friends and have set plans to reunite in person aside from business transactions. isn't that delightful? providing not only a car, but a friendship for me? just like Him.

and i can't take photos yet. its too personal and close to my heart. i am taking him in with my senses and basking in the goodness of the Lord. soon. i promise, soon.