the boys and a SPECIAL LINK!

“bekah, what are you doing with this one?”

“this what, perfect?”

“this...with this one.” he points to his lips.

“i'm putting on chap stick...”

“ooo, its so pretty” big smile across his face...

the past few days i give them kisses and they wipe them off. i think its their little protest of me leaving them for a week. so i tease them and ask why they scorn my kisses? i must have said scorn more than i realized because on thursday they came to school all declaring they are happy to scorn my kisses before i had a chance to kiss them....hahahha

i can't tell you how many times i heard "no! i don't want your kiss! i'll scorn it!" 

they crack me up.....

can you imagine the dearest little chocolate eyes and big smiles on 2, 3, 4, and 5 year olds all telling you they are scorning your kisses?!?! and then run away giggling glancing back hoping you chase them?!? they will steal your heart, i tell you....

and i’m now over here. its rough, but its better than not being able to upload photos. please do come on over there and follow this adventure! 

www.boosharesnews.wordpress.com

hopefully I won't run into photo limits there. and its rougher than rough, so bear with the lack of focus and chaos! :)

i'm alive!

i am alive!
lest you all were beginning to think there was no more of me left.

i'm alive and kicking.

i am processing through a lot and thoroughly happy with where i am.

i am almost finished with a wordpress site. i NEED to be able to upload photos. and this stinkin blogsite has me finished. i'm over it....

hopefully tomorrow (or tonight even?!?!) we'll have something more concrete, and with LOTS of world cup photos!!

World Cup

World Cup Fever is here.
Hot. and Wild.
I haven't missed a game. That sounds rather pathetic. I just planned my holiday well.

Argentina was one of my favorite games.
The players kissed on the cheek each time they subbed. The coached kissed them too. It was beautiful. Reminded me of living in Buenos Aries and kissing everyone hello and goodbye. That is a culture I loved and felt at home in. I was literally welcomed into their face. Hello. Intimate love and wanting. It was awesome watching that on tv too!

These soccer players classy.

It is loud and noisy here. Wonderful.
The vuvuleza is heard everywhere. Go into town and come home deaf.
I love it.
I soak it up. Sit and talk soccer and watch with my adopted grandparents and dad.
Depending on the day.

The World Cup riles up memories of good friends.
All my closest friends understand this, love it too.
It is the true test of a more global person, verses American.

Americans just can't appreciate soccer like the rest of the world.....

Grateful for a soccer education. So grateful.
My love knows no bounds.

Can't wait to get to some games myself next week. Am dying knowing its going on and I watch from home. Though tomorrow is supposed to be 4 degrees outside, so not sad I am missing those games. BRRRRRRRRRR......

Are you watching? Who do you want to win?!?!

wash him clean

around ten yesterday morning my helper, becca comes to me and says one of the boys had pooped.
all over himself.

...and here i thought i had them all potty trained and was past the days of diapers and wipes and gross.
nope. no such luck.

i was doing activities with the older boys so i asked bec to take care of it. within a few moments she said she was gonna throw up and couldn't.

i left the boys, let her take over and went to see the mess myself.
boys don't do anything half hearted. i've learned that. it doesn't matter what they are doing, they go big. every single time.

this was no exception.
poor pedrence. he was coated.

i put on gloves and began to clean.

within ten minutes of very very little progress i realized more was needed.

we took a little walk. his cute naked body following behind me as we walked to a house.
i used to hate cleaning up their messes. sometimes i still do. but yesterday i didn't.

spent the next twenty minutes bathing him. laughing with him.
getting all sorts of soapy and clean.
i borrowed some clothes and dressed him.
then we walked back home.

i used to hate cleaning up their messes. sometimes i still do. but not yesterday. yesterday i kept thinking to myself that this is what the gospel is.

this is what Jesus does for me.

He comes in all big and clean and gets on my level and wipes me. 

He smiles at me as i stand exposed and gross and coated in my own flith and shame.

He lovingly washes over all of me. 

He'll lift me up out of the tub, wrap me in warm blankets and dry me off.

dressing me again in new clothes.

and i kept thinking to myself, this is what i came here to do. i came to love and spill of myself into others. i came to be gross and used and do whatever is necessary so that these little boys of mine know the Love of their Savior and Maker. 

and when He asks me what I've done for the least of these, i can think back to these moments. and i can know, and answer that i loved. that i gave of myself and got dirty too so that we could both be clean again.

and all the good of that means nothing if my heart isn't right, and so i pray pleading prayers with each swipe from the wipes. i pray that i stay humble and small and let Him come clean out all filth from my heart. 

i loved the special time with pedrence. it wasn't how i'd planned it, or what i'd normally think is the ideal, but sharing sweet giggles together and washing Him with love filled my heart. 

what a joy to be His hands and love these boys. even days like this when loving equals the dirty.

thursday

7:57pm
my nose has decide to fight Niagara for most volume of water over a waterfall.
i have officially gone through two entire rolls of toilet paper. i ran through over half a box of tissues, and a roll of toilet paper at my house.
its impressive.

i'm busy packing for my vacation. not sure i'll be around much to post for the next two weeks. can't say that makes me super sad.
maybe i'm just in a funk, but the aura of blogging is not exactly with me.
i think its the extreme cold. its not super fun typing when you can't feel your fingers. at least to me its not.

i have 6 more stories to write for tomorrow's deadline. i saved the hardest for the final 2. not sure why. i'm a bit dopey like that.

this isn't exciting at all.

i'm busy working on my wordpress site to change over. i'm a bit mad at blogger i have a cap on photos to upload. i have a lot of photos i want to upload. it'll all have to wait i guess...

here's to starting holiday tomorrow.
woooooo hooooooo
8:00

ramblings

i struggle to know the difference.
the difference between sacred and profane. the difference between the heart hearing the Heartbeats and the heart beating loud on its own time.
to understand how One came and made little so much so that flesh was put on and babe's cries echoed in the night.

sometimes i labor over crutches. lines drawn in the sand.
usually by myself.
"here is the line, bek. dont go any further. don't even bother. you can't. its impossible. see the line, you stay right there."

sometimes no line is seen.
run, run, run free and leap into the sea.

somedays when nothing feels right i pull one of the boys close. tight. tighter. dip my head low to the hollow of their neck. breath in deep the scent of little boy playing. pause. count to five. kiss sweet cheeks usually stained dirty. pull close and its as if His breath has filled me.
stilled me.

i feel an awful kinship with paul. why do i do what i don't want to do, and don't do what i want to do?
why?
and i still ask. beg.
still for an answer.

how can what i see in me and dislike be the constant knowing of my heart.
i can see and feel the panic that rises up far to easily. and before i know it, where i don't want to go is where i'm not only headed, but arrived. how is that possible. habits are hard to nip in the butt and kick.

sometimes Jesus is so sweet to me i just sit and weep.
weep over the love He has for me. the goodness He constantly bestows over me.
little wee me.
that i am the one He stays up singing over. dancing around. that i am the one that gave Him joy to withstand the pain of crucifixion. i can't fathom. i sit and weep thanks. prayers that my tears will clean the feet and that i'll follow forever. tuck me in close, Lord. let me not stray so far tomorrow in my wonderings.

what is in my head is not what makes sense. so i ramble. ramble and what for? and who reads? but my heart beats record, bek. record. the rambling is the Him in you, so i put down.
put down.
if i write Truth enough it will seep into my bones too.
if i sit long enough eventually my body will mold to where i am, mold to whose i am.

Jesus. Jesus makes me weep today. solid, good soul cleansing tears...
and He gets me. marvelous truth. marvelous love. marvelous truth.

sokkie

on saturday i took some girlfriends to a sokkie sokkie.
it was marvelous.
and hilarious.

Afrikaners are this weird group of people. i love them. i really do. like, a lot of love. but sometimes they just like the weirdest things to me and do the weirdest things. and i don't get it. i find myself thinking: "what could possibly be enticing about this?" a good portion of my life here.

to me, it is this strange mix of country, polka, and redneck in culture. but its different. its unique. wonderful and hilarious. and i know for a fact i amuse my friends here all the time with my american-ness so, to each his own. thats where love and grace and laughter come in, right?!?! =)

some friends from the states were here doing a training and i was darn sure i was gonna get them to a sokkie even if it meant going to one here in town instead of in pretoria where i've always gone before. ooooo mokopane. bless you. small, country town that you are. you are smaller than anything from back home. i shouldn't have had such high expectations.

i called my man friends from town and got partners for us ladies. we were told it wasn't super safe after dark for us as everyone would be drunk and colorful if you will. so we were fine going early and missing out on all that. we got to the dance hall at 630. talk about being THE ONL PEOPLE there. hahahha.....

close your eyes with me. (i realize you can't really do that and continue reading....so just pretend you are closing your eyes, and really keep reading *smiles*)
imagine, its already pitch black outside. an oldish barn/hall type building. old women in their 40s (at least) manning the counter with their 3 month or younger babies in their lap. a nice size dance floor, a stage. paying R20 because there is a special singer tonight, so its up from its usual R10. (roughly R20 is $3.75). you enter. there is no one there but your girlfriends visiting from the states and your man friends from town.

so you sit. sip your coke. watch.....you watch nothing. nothing is going on. the music is this weird polka/country/disco music. classic. and typical.
its already homey to you by now. you might dislike it, but its growing on you so much that even as you dislike it it grows fond and delightful and not as shocking and hilarious.

you all sit at your table and small talk. finally, you see one of your friends ask one of the girls to dance. and you all watch. can't help it. nothing else to look at. they dance for a bit. at some point you get up and dance too. the hall is open on both sides. which would be nice in the summer when its so hot, but you feel at the same time chilly from the cold and warm from dancing just now and you wish that the doors were closed. but, wait! there aren't even doors on the sides! just open air where barn door used to be!

you dance with some good partners, some needing practice, some needing help. it doesn't matter. you are instantly taken back to being a little girl and all your years of dance practice and impromptu lessons with your dad in the living room. dancing is when you are at home.

you have to feel a bit of pride in your sokkie skills. you're getting pretty good. making all the turns. only mis-stepping twice the entire night. kudos to yourself.

you watch your girlfriends. their faces amuse you. your face must have been the exact same when you first arrived. but now its all old hat. the shock value has worn off.

about an hour or so pass. you have danced on and off. laughed a lot. felt awkward a lot. you watch your girlfriends face as a baby in a stroller passes by the dance floor heading towards the bar. wow. just wow. then in the very next moment, a dog. wonders across the scene as well. this is your life here. its normal. dogs, cats they all roam free. but to your friends. this is unreal. and so their faces freeze in a state of shock.

you stay a bit longer and are gone before its 830.

you digest the day in the car with your friends. you decide its been a fun evening. and that you'll never go back to a sokkie sokkie place in mokopane again. only in the big city.

a normal day.

....lest you think every day for me is sunshine and i always enjoy these african skies....

on wednesday i left my house at 640 in the morning. that is very normal. i didn't get home till after 10 pm. thats normal for a wednesday. normally it is earlier, but that day, with church and dropping off people on the way home and then my car not starting and then walking home myself....it was late.

thursday back up at 530 in the morning. at the school house by 640. i was home early yesterday, i got home around 5pm. thats fairly normal. give or take an hour *smile*

today began at 515. the sky is dark, the air bitter chilly and i wanted to stay under my blanket. i got up, ate, read, showered, went to start the car. we thought we fixed it yesterday. no such luck :(
i ended up walking to school and arriving late. my boys all bundled up in packs on their momma's backs. poor little ones standing chilly not sure where i was.

manassah, my gift car. that i paid for with my own money but in every way is a gift. he's not doing so well. and he wasn't able to get into a garage today. so broken he still sits in the yard. i don't even have a hope or an idea of what is wrong. so i've decided (and somehow its working?!?!) that its no help being upset and he'll work when he works, and i'll pay what i need to do get him running and he'll sit broken till someone can help me. so i put out the feelers and said what i needed and its out of my hands. so i wait and walk and enjoy knowing i'm exercising my body and feeding my spirit in not being upset.

i got to school. preceded to spill coffee all over my white shirt.

today was shaping up to be a grand day. car not working, coffee spilling.....

hung out with my little entourage of men for two hours then drove up the mountain for more EE training. (there's been a big children's conference on the farm that i've been blessed to participate in during the morning and early afternoon hours this week. more on that another day...) i felt like a hot mess with my big ole coffee stain and knowing manny wasn't working.

went through training. taught my break-out group to do a drama. couldn't resist. it was hilarious. it helped us learn. acting always helps me learn something....hahahahhaa

came down off the mountain after lunch and had a few long moments with the boys while they ate and told me what they did that morning. then my boys momma's picked them up. early. VERY early. i was happy. i love early friday's.

i got in the car to see how aunt liz's car works. we drove up to polokwane. i dropped aunt liz and beth off. then i took natalie and bec to the mall. err.....the closest thing to a 'mall' within 3 hours that we have. i had to get some groceries so we went to pick-n-pay. at which point all the check-out counters in the entire store went dead. as in, offline.

as in, nothing worked. and of course it happened just moments after swiping my card. SO, we had to wait till get our receipt and money back. otherwise, we'd just have put our stuff back and left. but no, we waited.
and we waited.
and i still had my coffee stained shirt on, lest you think i changed. i hadn't.
34 minutes later (yes, i timed it), we were on our way out. i had become good friends with lucas my checkout boy and he was cute and funny and we talked about soccer and the world cup and how in 6 days the entire world will be here in our south africa.

and then i wanted to take the girls to Mugg & Bean to get them good muffins. but they were out of muffins. as in, they had none.
how is that even possible??! that is what they are known for....
and so we wondered and sipped a milkshake, smoothie, and iced coffee respectfully.
and i got home around 7pm. which isn't too bad.
and now i am preparing lesson plans for next week. and writing stories for those books i mentioned once before.
and i finally put my coffee stained shirt in the wash.

sometimes its normal for an entire store to go offline. for cars not to work. for the cold bitter air to seep into homes. thats all normal.

the good news is my clicker works at the big gate so i can now get in and out without panicking. thats good. and i did manage to pick up my world cup tickets! i squealed at the counter and the people inside said i was the happiest person to get my tickets they had yet seen. i was dumbfounded. could you really be unhappy to get your tickets? yes, apparently you can, because they said lots of people were angry. weird. so weird...

still, winter days

i have all sorts of pausing.
stilling.

still, see all the
glory.
glory moments.

still moments.
moments when the only sound i hear is the sound of His step. His breath blowing and showing in the dark blustery days that are here now.

Winter has come.
not over my heart. but over my heart.
the heatbeats and pumping and cold numb fingers are my companion now.
winter has come.

so i still.
still under covers and blankets.
i broke down and got a little space heater for my room. a little bed sheet that heats up for my bed.
warmth for the cold.
the biting cold.

i keep saying it really isn't so bad. and so it isn't.
its only so bad because its never-ending.
how africans go with no heating inside is something i can not understand.
once its cold (and, its cold), its cold till it gets warm again.
come, come, come soon late august. i miss your warmth.

you imagine going inside would warm you up. and no, its just as cold inside; if not colder! the cold is everywhere and no hope of warming is to be found. hats, scarves, gloves.
i pull tight.

the sun shines in the daytime. it warms cold weary bones.
i still.
still.
look up and blow kisses to the Son-shine on my face.
i feel it seep into the bones.
i see its evidence on white blonde strands.
i feel it freckle my back.
thats a lie, i dream of it freckling my back; it really only warms it.

someday, in Heaven, i'll have freckles. you better believe it. i believe it. i believe it and pray prayers for a freckled man to marry so i have freckled babies. but thats anther story....

i still in these winter days.
days when the dark creeps in before the day has had a chance to really shine and expand and be.
i still under covers.
pull tight and pull closer.
hear the Breath steps of Him ahead of me.

isn't it amazing that you only see your breath when its very cold and dark out? when you are just about to doubt everything about everything it is then the breath moments are seen.
catch your breath. wish on a star. sing a song.
and still.
still and watch and listen.
listen to the wind whistling in the leaves.
listen to your fingers type out stories.
listen to the movements in your heart.

still. and glory.
it is blustery winter time.
and there is glory.
all around.
just be still. and wait. its coming. He's coming. He is almost here.
He's on His way to warm my days and pull closer.
pause, pause long and linger.

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.