I’m in the midst of a crazy busy couple of months… so if you find yourself missing me here (or so I’d like to think)… did you know you can find me here? I currently write or edit all of the posts for the Thrive Africa field blog… which is full of daily happenings here in South Africa (and will give you a glimpse at what the crazy busyness is about!).
If you’re on Facebook and you see my status updates- you know it’s been freakin’ cold here in South Africa! But, we’re trying to make the most of it- and especially of our days with afternoon-warming sun. So, here’s a picture post of our last two weeks…
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- Indoor winter-wear
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- Front-yard fun when there’s sun!
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- Indoor “fun”
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- Snuggling brings warmth…
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- she looks skeptical…
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- indoor scooter action?
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- Dad’s Day Hike… just us!
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- Drakensberg Mounains
Today and tomorrow I have the privilege of leading a retreat for 24 young adults who are joining us for two months of serving in South Africa. This morning began by us talking about the box that we tend to place God in. The ways we confine Him with our limiting expectations, and how that makes us miss out on so much of who He is. Next up, was applying this to our own lives… recognizing that we also tend to limit who God is in us with the confines of who we think we are and what we expect of ourselves. In reality, the only limitations we face in life are the ones we place on ourselves- because with God, ALL things are possible (Phil 4:13). So, I challenge myself and I challenge you… to look at the box we’ve become comfortable with… and then let God smash it. His work in us is complete. We need only to be willing to walk in it… box free.
My husband took this photo about a week ago… and I can’t stop looking at it. I love that South Africa has seeped in to my children, and that they have seeped in to South Africa.
There are some situations in my life right now that just plain stink. They aren’t situations I created or that I have control over. But they impact me. Their effects seep in to my daily life and the best way I can describe that, is that it stinks. I was talking to God about this yesterday… and I swear I got a glimpse of His humor when I heard Him speak to my heart “yup, that’s fertilizer- it stinks but you can also use it to grow.” So somewhat cautiously, I started my day today with a prayer… “God, make me grow- in this, in everything, make me grow.”
A year ago today- I was getting ready to meet her. She’d grown with me, inside of me- and I anticipated seeing her face to face more than a child anticipates Christmas morning. I had prayed for her and treasured her while only knowing her squirms and hiccups. But I knew her… and was already totally overwhelmed with joy that she was my daughter.
… and then she came…
…and opened a whole new cavern of my heart…
The first year of her life has been an incredible journey. In her first days we escaped a flood, and in her first months we traveled across the Atlantic to set up home in South Africa. By the time Ellie was three months old, she’d been in 6 states and two countries. She seems born for adventure. I’m just honored to share it with her…
Happy Birthday Ellie… I love you!!!
The weeks ahead are big ones. Challenging ones. In some ways, I’ve felt like I’m facing a mountain. So, yesterday I decided to bring my inward journey outward- and I climbed a mountain. It was empowering. It reminded me how the things I’m facing this month will be conquered in just the same way: one step at a time, with my eyes (and heart) fixed Up.
View from the top!
On Tuesday, Silas broke his collar-bone. It was a pretty traumatic experience for all of us- but we know that the Big Man was looking out for him… because his injuries could have been much, MUCH worse- so we’re thankful. Dave and I were skeptical about how Silas would handle being in a sling, and how he’d adapt to the “take it easy” orders for the next two weeks. Well, we’ve realized the sling doesn’t phase him, and there’s no slowing him down…
As part of Dave’s field research- he got introduced to Ntate Tatsi; and 80-year-old man who is considered an expert on Sotho culture; he’s even a featured weekly radio guest in Qwa Qwa. Dave meets weekly with Tatsi at his modest home made of mud bricks and a tin roof. They sit together and go through a large notebook of old photographs that Dave compiled as a way to generate conversations about the culture. With Tatsi, Dave usually gets a word or two out before Tatsi fills the rest of the time proudly talking about everything Sotho- and Dave sits nearby, with his audio recorder capturing it all.
This past weekend, we had the honor of hosting Ntate Tatsi, his 8-year-old son, and some other friends (including Dave’s interpreter, Lucas) for a braai (cookout). We got to share a little bit about our culture but inevitably, we all ended up sitting with our eyes fixed on Tatsi as he shared from his past. At the end of the lunch, over some chocolate cake, Ntate Tatsi looked directly at Dave and I and started talking intently. Lucas translated for us… “tomorrow, my whole village will hear of this. I never thought I would have this kind of day and be a guest of foreigners. You must never change- you must become like the elephant” (which was explained to us as the highest type of honor or respect that you can pronounce for another in Sesotho). Then Tatsi asked that we take a photo together- so that it could be given to his son “to share with the generations after me about this day- and so that when he is a man, he remembers.”
We’ve known since Dave met Ntate Tatsi that he’s been making a profound investment in all that Dave’s doing here. We never in a million years imagined that a simple lunch together would do the same for Tatsi. What a privilege.
I was en route to Silas’ preschool today and had two random but funny experiences. The first, is that I was held up by an escaping herd of cows. I did my neighborly duty, and got in touch with the farmer who owns them- but had to laugh at me trying to inch my way through a large herd of cows without a functional horn. I looked at a LOT of tail today. Literally.
The second- is that I pulled up to a construction required stop (as they fix our tar road, one lane is often closed) and I was singing. Loudly. Since we don’t have a functional radio- I wear my iPod while I’m alone in the car and sometimes forget that I put on quite a show. Well, the old Basotho man on the side of the road- who stood up and started clapping at the end of my song, made me realize that my windows were cracked. He heard it all.
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