back rubs

i broke my own rule yesterday. grrr....i'm not fully surprised tough! i knew it would happen at some point that i would forget how awesome my idea of writing for four minutes would be and write over that. in fact, considering i wrote yesterday's update on and off the entire day and wednesday night i not only went over four minutes i went way over four minutes.
go big or go home, right?

i spent well over an hour tonight rubbing weary shoulders. sometimes i feel like it is more healing for me to rub and give then to sit and take it in. well, maybe a close tie on that one. but seriously. there was a moment within the first few moments when i was eating a shared cadbury bar, and rubbing paul's back that i felt i was just bliss. in fact, i lost the ability to communicate with kelsey. the moment of savouring was too much.

i realize more and more the power of touch to me. anyone who's met my mother and sister knows you are overly hugged and touched and we all tend to stand a bit to close when talking to you and we like to touch you when we're talking to just ya know make sure you realize we are with you. can't tell you how many times i fight my way out of another hug or swap away hands when i'm at home.
but.
it was safe. it was the sun rising every morning i knew i could depend on those terrible hugs to be there. (love you, mom!).  not only could i depend on them, but they always came to symbolize love and security and belonging. i expect those hugs and the tickling and there are moments i honestly don't like them, but there are more moments i pretend not to like them and secretly ache long for them. and i guess mom knows that and thats why they haven't stopped.

people who let me touch them heal me.
people who reach out to touch me, they heal me too.

i've been consistently amazed at how i've come to associate touch and affection with "ok-ness" and security and acceptance.

its really only been the past few years that i'd have thought of myself as super touchy. but reality is, i'm more and more like mom and my older sister. touching all the time. hug you here. reach across and pat your shoulder there. chide your face like this. squeeze your hand like so. i blame it on the hispanic genes.  whatever....

the point is touch means so much to me. even more now. because when jordan and i were dating we had a normal relationship. if we sat next to each other he'd reach over and rub my arm, or greet me and give me a hug. and then we were married and he decided to make poor choices and there was just never any touch unless it was negative or hurtful.

lack of touch now equates to something being wrong in me.

of course that makes no sense. i know that in my head. but when someone is awkward about giving a hug or shudders as i lean into communicate i freeze up inside and walls are formed that shout "protect, protect, protect" and so i find the best possible way to make an exit and leave.
clearly i'm not wanted. or so my brain has been programmed to feel now.

its so obvious to me how little ones need constant love and affection and touching to grow and feel worth. i still need love and attention and affection to feel worth, and i did not lack one bit growing.

people who let me sit and run my fingers through their hair do me a great gift. rubbing 3 of the nomad's back tonight was a joy. and the grateful faces afterwards melted my heart. in some weird way it communicates they enjoy me. and i bring value to the world.

its so selfish, but what good it does my heart to feel and know i bring value. and yes, in my head i could tell myself and know that i bring such value in simply being a child of the King; but man, to hear and see happy faces makes me so appreciative as i go to sleep tonight.

its just such a happy thing to make others happy. its a drug i'm addicted to. but a good one, right?

what makes you feel completely at ease with someone?

weekly roundup vol. 6

i just might like insects again (also, helps we're approaching winter and bug season has passed: HALLELUJAH!).

25 best redneck weddings leaves me speechless.

do you follow Dwight's blog? never mind he's a tv character. this stuff is hilarious. dwight makes me erupt in glee. (did ya get the pun?!?)

old wooden churches in Russia. beautiful.

i really really want to read this book. add it to a list of abut 30 other ones i'd pee my pants to get ahold of...

they found Noah's Ark.... hmmm... interesting

cupcakes!

whats your color?!? you share yours, i'll share mine!

and just something pretty to close, because i love pretty things.

(courtesy of clayton austin)

wednesday afternoon

i was feeling pretty feisty when i got home from church.
we had guests visiting for supper that run a local hotel.
i felt like it was an important relationship building dinner and prepared myself to be on my best behavior. (apparently, my self-prep-talk didn't do much). the hotel has donated the use of their facilities to RaG. we've been holding teacher training programs there for about a month now, every saturday. the department of education is also helping sponsor the event. its an excellent opportunity to train teachers, who train children, who will grow and change the direction and climate of this nation. very cool. anyway, i missed supper but came in on the end for some excellent malva pudding and coffee. jacques and lizzy were introducing me and jacques joked that i was living with them to cook and clean. he was completely joking and it was obvious but then i jumped right in and said, "oh, no...but its true. thats why they keep me upstairs in the attic. i feel like cinderella!" i could barely finish cinderella before i started giggling but jacques just looked at me all wide-eyed shocked bc i really haven't been that sassy in front of him in a long time (in fact, i don't think i ever have), and he told me where did this come from? and that i was on a roll. best compliment i had in awhile. *grins*
i was on a roll...
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my boys run to school 20 out of 21 mornings. i hear their little giggles all the way in my new school building before i see them. i see flashes of white smiles round the corner, they have arrived.
i love that. SO much!!
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yesterday i sliced my thumb fairly well while i was cutting up some orange slices for the boys. nasty cut ruined a lot of the oranges in the process. red and orange don't mix well on any universe (sorry, mom!). i went to the bathroom to wash it with soap before sticking on a band-aid. one of the boys followed me in. all wide eyed scared that i was actually hurting. round chocolate eyes watched my every sigh and movement. silent words pierced the darkness: "i cut my finger at home like that too, bekah."
ahhhhh how healing words can be! he was comforting in the only way he knew. i realized all my efforts at getting them to actually care and notice and act are working!! sometimes i wonder if i shout and admonish and teach and mold and show and model and and and and and....does it do any good? but they do see and notice and listen and if it takes slicing my thumb to notice, i'll do it again today.
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weekly roundup vol. 5 and other things.

my apologies. this was written on and off over four days. its flows in my head and i dont wish to edit it into smaller posts. somehow they all found there way just here, just now...
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amazing collection of fine art photos from the World Cup stadiums. we're down to 45 days!!!!

really? whale poop will seriously save the world?!?

this makes me really proud.

haiti doesn't want your money anymore. in fact, stop sending it..

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can i tell you how random my brain is? i wonder if there is something wrong that it can be completely absorbed in one thing and in a moment switch gears fully. i had the sweetest little conversation with my best friend today. it had been to long. i told her the latest inside information on my life. we giggled. we sighed. i almost cried. she drove. i sat. it was lovely. she could be the only truly close friend who doesn't call me boo. the rest all do. including my new south african father who upon realizing my blogspot address inquired and now can't stop. its comical and weird. 

even though i go up at night to lay my head down and sleep. i am not alone. lizzy nods her head when i ask questions or smiles when i cry and gives me hugs. jacques gives me a hug goodnight and i'm safe. jacquie and nicole clamor, "tannie bekah, look! tannie bekah, watch! auntie bekah, see what i made!" and like my boys, the smile and look with wide-eyes to see my affirmation and love and attention. so endearing the heart of wee ones are. its good to be touched.

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they tell me they won't ask me to leave.
they tell me that they will talk to me about little annoyances before big issues arise.
they tell me goodnight each evening.
they tell me i'm a leader. i'm doing remarkable work. and they believe in me.
they tease me incessantly.
they say all the inappropriate swear words good christians dont say in america, because here it is not a curse word to say them.*
they tell me their kids love me and like spending time with me.

and i sit and wait and watch and try and not test on purpose but wait for the moment of reckoning.
i wait for them to realize they don't want me to stay. and i wait for the moment i realize i don't want to stay either...

its so weird to be living with others. not just for a night or two. but living. the sort of living where i am fully laid bare and my junk is visible, and their junk is visible, and i choose to still love, and they choose to still love....or, they ask me to leave. and they promised they won't. which is marvelous, and in my head i believe them. but even if they did ask me to go back to my little lapa it would be ok. but thats another long thought and not for here. not for today....

and i'm adopted in. i'm adopted in like my siblings were. different yes. i have my family still and i will never lose them. never lose their love and that support and that family-ness. but i've been adopted in. websters says adoption is:

1. to take by choice into a relationship**

that is what they have done. by choice they invited me in. its a strange feeling and thought and i dont know if its the living or the choosing or the whatnot but i am here and its doing weird things to my mental processing. its given me a new awareness of what my all grown siblings felt when they were taken in. the process of being and morphing but still being your true self is strange. adaptation is a good thing. a hard thing. a joyous thing.

i'm learning that grace comes in many forms. many graces have been laid on my head. i don't know how to process them.
i'm a loud shout of silence.
i'm just taking and sitting and storing. but he's doing a good work in me and i can feel it. and i want to kick back and fight the absorbing and my pride longs to stand strong, but i'm not strong and i am needy (thanks, missy), and its ok. and we're all needy. and i feel He is storing up in me and preparing and healing and working out joints and marrow and hurt into something good and strong and He loves me and not an ounce of weird feelings or moving across an ocean and separating from normal will mar what He is doing or in fact what He is purposed in me and that is good and strong and joy and new-life. and He is the redeemer of all things and i am just the product that sits and watches the one i love take the hammer and chisel smooth somedays or chops into pieces other days and my marble carves out and it hurts and other times i see shiny beauty and its glorious to be carved and He does it. does the carving and does the mending.

and He throws me into fire and He mends the broken pieces and He makes me gold and shiny and silver dancing in the moonlight. and i feel all together like a mess. and i used to think missionaries were such good people. leaving behind so much, and leaving behind everything, because they felt compelled to go and share love. to share real love. and yes, there is a compelling and there lies fire in these bones that won't stop or quit till its all known by all, but there is much more than that and its hard to put it all into thoughts and feelings when it runs wild in your mind. because love moves in weird ways and love does weird things to a heart and its done weird things to my heart and i can't help but want to share that. even though right now the disconnect between the love in my head and the love in my heart seems vast and seems stronger than an ocean current and deep deep deep like the ocean floor. i can't seem to be able to reconcile what is known to what is felt and maybe i'm just too analytic for my own good. and maybe i am. or maybe i'm just too prideful to just sit and let it be and let Him be and let it all be fine. and maybe its true. or maybe the times i have felt and the times i have sang and danced and been enveloped in good freedom bursting love have all been real.

and its all been good and right and maybe i'm just thinking too much or thinking to little and i just want to sit with Him up on Bethany hill and just look over Jerusalem with Him and just hear Him long, ache and whisper how He beats to gather his children together and hold them, and hold them close, and whisper to them love, and warm away the cold night air. and just to sit and marvel next to Him that this man, that this man is the one I love. that this man is the one who has made me new and makes me new and refuses to quit on me when i quit on me. and just to watch the way his hair blows free in the moonlight and how his hands reach out and heal the little ones, and how He's full of compassion on those he's closest too, on the ones who are honest with Him and the ones He lives with. honest with their pride, honest with their hurt, honest with their disbelief, and how He kept around him the one who would betray Him and how He didn't give up believing in that one knowing it all; knowing what He'd do. and that is why i love judas, for i'm him too, but somehow and in someway i think that maybe knowing i'll run away and betray and grab my 30 pieces and toss them in the wind, that somehow maybe he won't give up on me knowing all that. that somehow he will still invest in me and trust me and that is what i ache to see. to just see the love in His eyes. to hear the miracle words He spoke with my own ears....
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*can i tell you how i still giggle tremendously to hear such a passionate man of the Word, of Jesus; a man who is my south african father, say things that my dad in america would never say?!? like normal dinner conversation to have d*mn or a*s spoken. ooooooo i will never get used to it and never understand how its normal here.
hey bud, you know, it certainly isn't helping my cursing disease to be living with them!! :)

**the other definitions don't really apply!
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sit and take Him in. pause and listen to the stirring in your heart. know that He longs to gather you, longs to hold you. feel His hair whip across the wind and speckle your face, too.

talk about free association

1:41pm

kids are napping. frantic frantic frantic.

i've been drinking my coffee black recently. it makes me chuckle. uncle dave always said this was the way to drink it if you want to put hair on your chest. which, at 10 when he told me that, of course i did want that. uh, who doesn't want to be cool with chest hair like your uncles and dad when you're 10?!? thankfully, i have outgrown this desire.

there is a wasp nest just above the door to my old little lapa. its like they go all kamikaze on me and drive bomb my head when i come near. i have yet to be stung, but it freaks me out. i'm completely telling the truth that half the reason i cut my hair, or at least a reason i cut my hair, was because more than once i had them stuck in it. sadly, today i got one in my head again. seriously?!?! well, i ain't going shorter so i'll have to learn to thrive on their dive bombing as is.

i slept like a baby yesterday. only, the sort of baby that is all cute and cuddly and sleeps through the night. you know the type, imaginary ones.

i have a confession to make. sometimes i don't like to hug, and hold, and kiss my boys. sometimes they are all sticky fingers, all gross faced, all loud and full of boy humour, and i really just want to sit and wear a dress and be at a tea party with dainty things and finger food. but i tell myself you are not here to be clean, you are here to love,  so get over yourself and hold those slimy hands and wipe those runny noses. and sometimes it works but today i wish they were just a tad cleaner.

my family got back from disney world this week. the photos speak joy and life all over facebook. my turn will come. isn't it lovely to have family and friends that work there and get you in for free?!? its the happiest place on earth. and soon enough i'll be back and seeing all my orlando family. i love all of you!

1:44

the clinic came and we had our mump shots

my sweet little men had shots today. i think it was harder on me then it was on them. the clinic is in the middle of this big anti-mumps campaign and doing vaccinations on all the wee little ones in the province. i knew it wouldn't be pleasant. i didn't know how unpleasant it would be. the tears and cries were plentiful!

oh, how i love them so!

i have decided that if/when i ever have children i will not take them to the doctor for their immunizations. i will go away and let my husband and father take care of it. i completely agree in immunizing children, but i can't do it. i thought i would near pass out today. my stomach hurt and i almost fainted. i kept whispering in my head to myself, "suck it up, strangarity. you're not even getting the shots."

oh they cried. their sweet little faces contorted all pain-filled. they screamed. they clung to me. i couldn't believe it. i imagined them trying to run back into the school building...but they didn't. little hands reached up and clawed my neck and stomach.

oh, i love them!

they also got polio medicine. two droplets into their open mouths. perfect (above) was the absolute worst. that kid spat his out 6 times. SIX TIMES! 2 times on me, once on the doctor, and the rest on the ground. oh he fought so strong to not take it....i almost gave in. i have no backbone when it comes to their pain. finally he swallowed.

their little arms. so strong in fighting. little red specks on chocolate skin. i couldn't take it. of course, ruben and johanno didn't even make a noise. how in the world, roelene (you, stalker! *grin*)? they were little brave angels and gratefully too. 

i normally enjoy when the clinic comes. they give medicine, they make the kids better. but i'm not lying at all when i say i would be fine to not ever see them again. i just can't handle it. their little tear stained faces. i don't care it makes them better and healthier in the long run. it hurts my heart.

all of these photos were taken last week. we used the timer after lunch. the boys know that if they eat well i will let us play or watch a movie. they almost always chose to play. i am teaching them to use my camera. so the photos that have 3 or more of them in are timer shots. otherwise its one of the boys. they didn't do to shabby of a job for the very first time pushing buttons and holding a camera. i was nervous but their excitement over doing this was my joy too.

i moved. this afternoon. the rain delayed the moving for two days. which isn't long, but when you're anxious and ready its long. i'm sitting in my new bed now. i have never felt so relaxed and content over such an unsettled thing in my entire life, or at least in a very long time. i have no plans to leave again but i have no plans to really stay here longer than a few weeks. its a weird place. this unsettled but settled feeling and i'm glad. i'm on the other side of the farm with one of the families here and i think it will be so good for me to have a family environment. i'm a bit curious to see how living with a family goes as its been over 7 years since i lived with one. ha! but it will be good to have more hugs and love and not be living alone. 

please go back and look through these photos again. please take note of each face in each photo. the expression these boys make kill me. i love that you can see the relationship and trust kelvin and perfect and i have built. tutu is only in his 3rd week of school and still keeps his distance with me. soon he'll be hanging on me like the other boys do. but their faces. and little arm movements. just eat them up along with me, please!

oh, i love them so!

two years ago today...

...i rushed across the street to see my baby brothers at their prom. perk of living close to the nicest hotel in the city. they were dashing that day. i love them.

after a few photos and hugs i slipped out of my heels and walked back home. i think the joy of seeing them look so nice, walking home in blue skies and good ole' lancaster county sunshine, and feeling grass between my toes were little love-miracles to steady me for what was to come.

i entered the house and all was quiet and still till i reached the top step. and there he stood. the one i said yes to when pearl ring was placed on my finger. the one who i promised till death separates us. the one i trusted. he now sat on all his possessions packed in bags at his feet.

so this is what it feels like...

a few words were said. lies uttered. pain spoken and felt. silent nods from me.

"yes i understand what your doing." "yes, i realize you don't want to live with me." "yes, you're going to your parents? ok. ok...yes i hear you."

only...why? and its wrong. and silent pleas and prayers and questions stir in my head. but silence filled my every word. what do you say? when a mind is made up. made up and filled with lies. what do you say when your frozen in shock and disbelief and confusion and more vulnerable then ever.

i watched him gather everything and walk down our steps. it was the last time they were ours. i didn't watch him drive off.

i don't remember calling anyone. but i must have.
i don't remember leaving the floor in the living room, but i woke in bed so somehow i did.
i don't remember knowing how they came. they were those who loved me. sister and sean. parents. my lania. somehow i told them. and they sat and touched and prayed as i rocked and heart sobs escaped my voice. i don't remember them much. but they were there. when floor became ceiling and ceiling melted into floor they were there to signal what was up and what was down and hold me when i had nothing.

i don't know how to write. i don't know how because i still fear unbelief and accusations. and i still want to protect vows i made to keep and protect. and i want to be honest but i don't want or know how to be like that. i wrote something yesterday. posted it. then deleted it. but maybe i'll post it again. i want to name things for what they are. there is power in naming things and i feel sometimes i'd have more courage naming what is mine to name...but its not just my story. i feel you sorta forfeit your rights when you walk away from the Lord and your wife but even then its still not just my story. its his too.
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its been two years today. every day has been easier. days, and even weeks go by and i don't think of pain. they till me months will pass without a thought too at some point. really? i question ponder if it could be. i sit and ache in some moments still for every dream that walked out the door and died.

and He gives good gifts and good dreams but pain is still real and questions and whys linger.

i always prayed to be able to touch a life. to be able to share from my stories into other stories and find common ground. and answers to prayer are strange indeed because i never thought any story of mine would entail all that it has. never wanted it too.
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one of the only things i remember after he walked out was calling my mentor on the phone. and i choked out words before swift tears soaked through; and she prayed. i don't even remember the words but i sat on the bed and she prayed over me over the phone over state lines. last year i was in california with my brother. on this day we moved some of my dearest friends into a new house. i sat and they prayed over me. whispers of life and new hope. and today i sat and had hands touch and pray new life again. more whispers of life and hope.
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seasons come and bring new feelings and new processing and new understanding of grace. grace that floods and fills and shatters darkness that engulfs and hurts and frustrates forward motion.

His grace was sufficient for me two years ago.
His grace was sufficient for the dark was that still to come.
His grace was sufficient when i up and moved across the ocean, because though i'd given up on me being used again, He hadn't and still called me to share life and love and teach.
His grace is sufficient even today.
and it will be sufficient tomorrow.
despite the days and moments i have had, and still do have, and will again have thinking it isn't...
it IS. He is.
He's my portion and i believe working out in me good.
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two years ago today i felt and thought and believed i was over. that i would cease to be from the questions and torment and hurt. but here i am. not only alive but somehow teaching and loving precious little wee ones. still alive. still alive. still alive.
that is Grace.
so, here's to two years later, i'm still standing.