Things I love about being here…

So many nice and refreshing things about being in America. I never payed much attention to or fully appreciated until leaving it.

Getting good chocolate anywhere, everywhere.

Breathing nice clean air, even in LA.

Sitting in bumper to bumper traffic, in LA, cars remain in there lanes, no honking, all is quiet and serene.

Visiting friends and walking to parks together.

Buying anything my heart desires at ONE grocery store.

Driving to the grocery store.

Taking all 4 kids and having a good time, in the grocery store.

Beautiful trees.

Clean streets.

AWESOME beaches.

Mexican restaraunts.

Hearing any conversation around me and understanding it all without having to think about it.

Seeing LOTS of people on a daily basis that not only KNOW me but CARE about me.

Thrift stores, bargains, and GOODWILL in the OC.

Crockpot meals.

Kids screaming and playing in a yard with falling trees.

Wearing jeans, EVERDAY.

Actually being motivated to do my hair and make up cause it will show for all to see.

Central Heating.

Music in the car.

Not needing to dust and sweep everyday.

Going out at night, as a woman, with whomever I want, or nobody if I want.

Going out on dates with J. To fun places and not worrying about the kids.

Christmas music out in the world, not just my home.

Electricity all day and all night.

Taking hot showers and not freezing when I get out.

The hum of the dishwasher.

The wonderful feeling of slipping into clothes just fresh from the dryer.

Renting a movie from Redbox and it not being in a foriegn language or skipping all the way through.

Getting text love more often.

Getting more fruits and veggies.

Not having to soak them for an hour before I eat them.

Salad.

Getting real live hugs from friends and family.

I could probably go on and on. And as difficult as this last year has been I find myself having hope for the years ahead to only get better in India. True some things need to change and others need to fall into place for that to happen. But I believe it can. And when I looked at some photos tonight of  “home” the thought that came to mind was ” Wow! We are sure living an adventure!”

… and I like that.

Buying other supplies

Shopping at the lil store across the street with my helper.

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Homeschool moment.

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A neighbors doorway, I hope to go in someday. (this is the doorway I mentioned in the alley with the smiling lady.)

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In the lift, love those dimples.

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Playing music in our living room

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Going to visit a friend 2 stories down.

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A view from our Balcony, just after monsoon ends.

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M skateboarding in our courtyard below.

A day in the life of me

Honestly  I could do these every day of the week and they would look quite different, there is no typical day. Today is especially unique here because all our friends are celebrating “Buckra Eid” . This is the first time we have not joined in the festivities of buying a new outfit and going to friends houses to eat. Josiah is in Delhi for a few days and I am holding down the fort with the kids.

Maybe its because I know I am leaving the country in just over a week and its like “senior -itus”, my mind has checked out, along with my patience for certain cultural encounters. But good or bad its a day nonetheless and I will share it.

I started off sleeping in till 9, which was nice because all the kids, except the baby (go figure) came in waking me up throughout the night.

I ended up with two extras in my bed this morning. I got up and made us all oatmeal and then talked to J for a few minutes. T went down for his morning nap shortly after while the kids played in the family room. I think I had to yell at them “STOP YELLING!” about 10 times while I prepared food and accessories for our picnic to the park later on. And I wonder why they don’t listen to me….

Vange came in 3 different times swearing that she didn’t have to use the restroom but holding herself as she danced around. She ended up changing her underwear 3 times before we left for our outing. She also collected two spankings for saying ” bad mommy!” as she walked away from me telling her she couldn’t do something she wanted to do.

Once I prepped our outing I sat down for a rest and heard a bang at the door. This was the fourth visitor since 7 o’clock this morning coming to ask for “eidy”. This time I decided to answer. It was the little boy that buys me basic grocery items daily, coming to show off his new outfit and ask for his gift of money (eidy). I greeted him ” Eid Mubarack!”, told him he looked nice and explained that my husband was out of town with all our money. I would give it to him later.

As I headed back toward my room another person knocked. I had never seen this man before so I asked “con he?” (who are you?) and he explained he was the new trash collector. “Muje opki pas pese nahee” (I don’t have any money) I said and smiled and shut the door.

2 more people knocked but I didn’t not answer, I contemplated putting a lock outside one door to signal that I was not home, to have a little peace and quiet but I was leaving soon so I decided not to.

I have a few minutes to read from aholyexperience.com , because I feel myself needing some inspiration in order to tackle the day ahead of me in a grace filled way. I watch a video of Ann and I am encouraged that she didn’t start seeing a big difference in her ability to rise above the baggage of her childhood and pass a legacy of joy onto her kids, until her youngest was a toddler. It’s not too late for me. I haven’t lost my chance to teach them grace and peace yet. I have a few years to get my act together, I am a long way off.

I herded us all, except T, in and out of showers and clothes and we headed out the door. As we exited the lift of our building I saw my husband’s friend and neighbor with his brother in law and two others cutting up the goat that they had just sacrificed and were about to cook. Wishing I had my camera to show you all what kinds of things we witness around the holidays we stayed and stared as I answered kids questions about stomachs and hooves, and sharp butcher knives. Fun!

We headed out to the street to catch a rickshaw and I tried two till I found one that knew where I wanted to go.

Once we got past all the speed bumps on our street we enjoyed the breeze, cool weather and non crowded streets. Only the sea of “white men”, men in traditional white kurta shirts for the day, were out finishing up the sacrifice duties and mingling.

It was great to be out of the house and I was looking forward to this adventure. Too bad we are leaving for the US in the best weather of the year. (Note to self: go back in the mid summer next time.)

We stop at a roadside place to buy some sour cream and onion chips, a little taste of home and 2 bottles of water. All the regular shops are closed for the holiday.

We arrive and I leave extra change with the Rickshaw wallah as a gift for Eid. He was grateful and friendly.

We walked quite aways to the open field area intentionally not going to the playground area as not to get mobbed by kids.  To no avail!

As we sat in the shade eating our lunch, kids came and stood 3 feet away just staring. About 20 men came and sat on the grass just a few feet away quietely watching us eat and talk. When the young boys rode their bike right up to us and were falling all over the place trying to fit 4 on, but nearly falling on Arwyn, they were so close, I  hollered at them to leave. I was starting to get annoyed as man after man came and sat by us and the mob of kids grew larger. How do celebs handle fame with grace? I couldn’t even handle it on a much smaller scale.

10 minutes of failed attempts to send people away and I knew we just needed to leave. We packed up and walked back to the exit. The mass of people dispersed and went to something else exciting. Now I know what my friend felt like when she came to this park.

I headed to our usual park hoping that it was quite deserted. I suggested we all pray that we can have peace and quiet at the park, as I was trying to leave behind the negative feelings of the last encounter and switch all our gears. I got lost in thought about wanting a surprise from God in this way when I realized Vange, sitting next to me was praying for our time ahead, and I was touched.

It was great to see our spot with only 3 or four groups of men all spread out over the place. I headed to a remote spot on the back side of the park and noticed a guy on his phone walking along with us. As soon as we sat down he stopped and sat and within minutes his whole group of men were sitting feet away from us! As they tried to be sly about taking pictures,  I had the kids all turn around so all our backs were to them, hoping to send the message that we wanted privacy. They didn’t care.

So I packed us up and headed to the back side of the park, I hadn’t ventured there before. There was a nice square of lawn, enough trees here and there to hide us from the entrance and people roaming around. I was thankful. For nearly an hour we enjoyed ourselves playing frisbee, and paddleball with no people in sight but green all around.

T got nice and dirty in the sparse grass and once when I was on the phone with a friend I had to rush off because I saw him standing against a cement block wiping aggrivatedly at his face. When I looked closer I saw he was swarming with ants from head to toe. It took me a good 5 minutes to wipe them all off. Good thing they weren’t the biting ones!

We thanked God for our fun time to play and get out and then we headed to CCD (Cafe Coffee Day). It was now way past afternoon nap time but things were going quite well as we sipped our chocolate drinks and Malachi mingled with most of the people in the shop. I heard him telling a joke to a young girl that had the same exact Goa shirt on as him.

“Nice shirt!” he said

she smiled.

“knock- knock.”

I am assuming she responded accordingly, cause I only saw him say,

” elephant.”

no answer, “your supposed to say elephant who?”

Elephant who?

“elephant on your shirt and mine.”

We finished up our drinks and T threw a big fit over being done with his brownie. What is it about Chocolate that makes people angry when they run out? I distracted him with a straw and he toddled about the shop.

We hopped on our rickshaw and I enjoyed the evening breeze rustling through the euciliptus trees that hung over the street.

On our ride home I noticed all the roadside piles of goatskins and wondered what they do with them now. I started snapping pictures of things with my phone as we rode along.

Vange says ” I don’t want to eat live goats that are killed mom.” I don’t blame her. It was a little disturbing. I  wondered if it was bad to be thankful that Jesus paid the sacrifice for me so now I don’t have to mess with sacrificing for myself. Quite messy.

We roll into our neighborhood and the kids remind me that we need diapers and milk. As we pick up the diapers, forgetting the milk we greet the shopkeeper and head back to our place.

We take the shortcut trough the alley and I pass the woman I have smiled to many times, and wonder when I will be invited in or just invite myself. I contemplated asking her for a picture but quickly remembered my invasive afternoon.

Once in our home I remind the kids of the same thing I usually do, shoes in the shoe rack and wash hands. I head to the kitchen with T giving him a much needed bath in the sink. After many attempts to escape I get him washed nice and good despite the floaters he leaves behind in the water.

I wrestle a diaper on him and rub him down with lotion to which he giggles uncontrollably. And I get him to lay still in his bed with a bottle of milk so I can clip his nails. Meanwhile I give instructions to all three to get their reading books and use the restroom before I put T down for a late nap and we all have rest time.

As I walk into my bedroom it’s just sunset, my fav time of day to be in my room, for the way the sun shines through the windows. I am thankful that I get to enjoy it alone.

My day was mixed with good and bad experiences but I give myself a pat on the back to just get us all out and back, and clean.

T ends rest time an hour later with his cries in the dark. I switch on the light and find Vange asleep, eyes wide open. I wave my hand in front of her and she doesn’t budge. Malachi has fallen asleep in the living room while reading. I give T to Arwyn who was reading in the family room to watch while I finish up some typing. I jump up once to soothe the crying from a good bump on T’s noggin from flipping over a chair.Then I head to the kitchen to start dinner.

I am thankful to just have yummy tacos to reheat from last night. I grab T on the way to come play with the little kitchen while I cook. He starts out good but is soon crying on the floor desperate for some food.

I wake Malachi and set the table. Arwyn is using her 30 minutes of earned computer time to email her grandma. Vange has woken and started playing in the family room with her “bucket of beans.”

I ring the dinner bell and we all chat about our highs and lows of the day while eating scrumptious tacos.

Malachi: my low was leaving the trees at the park, my high was going to CCD

Arwyn: My high was going to CCD, and my low was everyone staring at us.

Vange: my low was everyone staring too. My high was playing at the other park and having privacy.

I say my low was leaving the trees as well, and my high was talking to daddy on the phone.

We all agree T’s high was getting outside, cause he laughed and clapped when we headed out on our adventure.

T refuses food, asking for a second bottle. His new tooth coming through has made him a picky eater lately and he would much rather drink those all day long, despite his constipation that I have tried combating for a week now.

Arwyn clears the table and wipes it down, I send the other two to brush teeth and use the bathroom. Then we all straighten up the house a bit before we settle down to read Uncle Wiggley’s storybook. I pick our nightly song tonight and kiss them all goodnight.

Vange comes out 3 times while I am hanging clothes on the line and sweeping up.

I settle in to my room for the evening of quiet and Malachi comes in to tell me he has stuffy nose.

Whew! A packed but rich day and I look forward to our sabbath tomorrow. Pancakes, games, and a new movie. And J comes back to me, the best part.

2 years

A wise friend once said ” If you still love each other, love God, and want to come back at the end of 2 years, that’s a big accomplishment!”

Love him? more than ever.

Love God? definately more than ever.

Want to come back? a hesitant yes.

Happy 2 years in India to us on October 5!

on visas, God’s love, and numbness

I am so aware that MANY people are praying for us. That alone is encouraging, and humbling. That all of you would deem me and the goings on in my life worth fretting before the Lord for. Yeah, humbling.

I used to think that if we had enough people praying that God would act. As if there were a magic number. 20 maybe.

Or if we prayed long enough. an hour. 3 hours. half the day, every day. Fast even. Bottom line to both of these, if we perform well enough, God will grant. We will earn our worthiness of a gift from the Holy One.

I know you are waiting for the “but” since I said “used to”. And you might be poised with the question ” what about the verse, wherever 2 or 3 are gathered?”. But what about when 200 or 300 are gathered asking for healing, asking for deliverance, asking for a miracle, asking for a child to live? And God does not give, what you want anyway?

It’s not a magic formula. Yeah, it’s a promise, but for EVERYTHING. More than two or tree were gathered praying for life for my baby. Not just one baby. Two. and still He took. It’s not a formula. It’s not a guarantee.

His plans are not my plans. His  thoughts are not my thoughts.

This last week while sitting by and watching Josiah do everything he can possibly do to get T’s visa, my heart has grown still. I’m still not sure if it’s God’s peace that I can handle what he gives me, regardless of what it is. Or if I am just growing numb. You can only shake your fist in anger so long. It’s exhausting. You can only go down with a fight so many times. You burn out. You grow apathetic.

No wonder people in this country are fatalistic. It’s exhausting to be anything else.

I want to believe this verse. ” The Lord will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.” (Exodus 14:14) But will He? Or will he allow this time?

Will I have to learn contentment in what I consider plan B? Do I need to learn joy in whatever he hands me?

I have been thinking a lot about if I am a spoiled brat in need of learning some delayed gratification, or joy in all circumstances. Not just joy from getting what I want whenever I want.

I think I am. Not because that’s how my parents raised me. Even as an only child, though I did get what I needed always, and often what I wanted. They didn’t raise me to be a demanding child who felt entitled to all and received all.

But America did. “Do what feels good to you.” ” Whatever you want to believe is your truth.” ” You are entitled to get what you want.” ” If you get tired of it, leave, walk away.” ” If you want it, take it.” ” Don’t except no for an answer”. ” Just do it” ” Your way right away.”

What you want, fast, or go find it somewhere else. If you’re not “feelin it” do what you have to so that you are. It’s all about feelings.

This makes for a very immature believer in the area of patience, longsuffering, and endurance. I haven’t met too many people with these qualities actually. At least not in the US. People aren’t feeling it and they change, leave, move. We pray for God to take away all our unpleasant circumstances.

It’s been said that the American church doesn’t know Joy. I think it’s true. Myself included. C.S. Lewis said you can’t know joy until you’ve known pain. The two are inseparable.

But when all you do is pray for the removal of any form of pain, or keep yourself busy ” escaping” from it. Whether that’s in service to the church. Service to other’s. Feeding an addiction. Spending money you don’t have. Having an affair. Emotional or otherwise. Reading trashy romance novels. Eating, eating, and eating some more. Staying so busy you don’t allow solitude, reflection, or rest into your life. When you let these things let up, the pain comes back to the edges of your periphery and you don’t know how to handle it.

In America all kinds of ways are available to self medicate our pain. To get what we think we want exactly when we want it.

I am a child of this.

It’s been my sneaking suspicion as I grapple with this un-satisfaction in my life, that it’s  time.

God is teaching me to joyfully except what He gives. To be open to “plan B” and choose gratitude.

I’m not there yet. It might be a long journey. Good thing God is patient.

UPDATE: J visited the FRO today and they hadn’t received the email from Delhi. So he will take a taxi to Delhi again tomorrow to “push” things along. He said ” I will stay in the office till they get the email sent. ” As I gave a weak, not very hopeful smile, he said ” I will fight for you!” Please pray with us that a miracle happens and they practice compassion and efficiency tomorrow.

holy experience

a typical Indian adventure to be thankful for

Note: this post was actually written about 8 months ago but never pushed publish cause i was gonna write more, and well, I am a mother of four… Enjoy the story of how we got home.

 

Here I was heading home after almost a whole month of waiting for baby watters to be born, got the train tickets, got two amazing helpers visiting, and 4 kids. THAT’S right folks! FOUR KIDS!

The plan was to take the metro to the railway station and enjoy our 3 hour train ride home, bump free, getting in at around 8 pm. Not bad. But plans RARELY go according to planned here in the east, and I was about to experience it.

It wasn’t only the diaper fiasco mentioned here that started our journey off the mark. But after leaving about 15 minutes late because of it,we arrived at the metro station and I finished buying all 5 of the cards we needed to get through to the platform, putting 100 Ruppees on each. But once half of us got through, the other two got stuck because the cards weren’t working. Mark had to go to the counter to get them checked and explain that I just had put credit on them. I don’t think he actually fixed them, even though on the second time one of the two went through. But the gate magically opened for us anyway and I had a sneaking suspicion that apon exit we would run into the same problem.

We found our platform and were about to get on the approaching train, when less than 15 seconds after it pulled up, it pulled away, without us. So we waited the 3 minutes more for the next one. Melissa and I taking T and the girls in the women’s car and Mark and M behind in the men’s.

When we walked on I asked if anyone knew which exit was for the Railway station.

Angel #1 informed us that we had to take this metro to the end and then switch metro cars to get to the railway station. A much bigger deal when toting bags and 4 children up and down 6 flights of GINORMOUS stairs. This angel was fabulous cause she told us exactly where to go and then escorted us as far as she was going. I felt very well taken care of.

With a infant on my belly, Mark and I shared carrying the 30 lb. toddler to keep a quick pace. I could feel the swelling in my feet traveling up my legs. I was WAY overdoing it for having given birth 6 days prior, but who wants to miss there train ride home and have to hang out in the NASTY train stations with 4 kids, 1 an infant? Not me.

Well I was right, apon exiting the metro station I got the card that wouldn’t let me through, so I had to go to the help counter and he told me a great surprise “your card is not working”. To which I said “I know but it let me in,so what now?” I was officially in the ” I am stressed, trying to make my train mode” at this point and angel #2 came. the guy at the desk put 40 Rupees on my card and activated it so I could go on through, even though I gave him nothing. Absolutely NOT NORMAL here.

There were SO many hairy details including me getting mad and very short with a porter at the station while trying to find our train station platform. But we arrived at our platform 8 minutes late and SURPRISE SURPISE! The train was NOT late! It had left.

I walked over to get water and junk food for dinner while Mark went in search of a solution to 5 paid train tickets that hadn’t been used, and a new plan to get home. He told me about angel #3 and angel #4.

angel #3 was some nice young guy, who spoke NO english but manged to understand from Mark that he had missed his train. Being the white american that he is, Mark was able to get immediate and bold help from this guy. He immediately took him to the police on duty and the police…

angel #4 started blowing his whistle loudly and literally picking up people up and moving them out of the line and way to get Mark to the front and get helped ASAP. Much to Marks embarassment, but relief. After a few of the tellers and policeman had a heated conversation in Hindi, to which Mark knew none, he walked away with a voucher for us to ride on the next local train to our city, 3 hours later.

I was REALLY struggling to not be so bummed that I messed up everyone elses evening. And the Lord gently reminded me all I had to be thankful for. The first #4 angel’s to begin with, but the little hot bundle of Watters that was asleep on my chest, here, healthy, and happy. 3 amazingly adventurous kids that are relatively obediant, always happy,and up for adventures. Mark and Melissa here to help and they weren’t even stressed! At least they didn’t appear to be, even though still very jetlagged. I needed to quit dwelling on my woes of how this was not going according to plan and let my heart choose thankfulness instead.

And He reminded me to share my thankfulness with my kiddos. Because they needed to see me change my attitude and model what I should be modeling, flexibility, joy and thankfulness. So I asked them what we could be thankful for and they agreed with what I had thought  already, even though I hadn’t spoken them. Baby, friends, and a journey home.

i was just thinking how great it would be to find someone on the platform with us that spoke some english so that I could make snese of our ticket and find out why it didn’t have seat numbers and so on… when a man spoke from behind me to the kids about there fake tattoos on their faces in an almost perfect english accent. I turned around and asked him if he was on our train and he replied yes. His parent’s lived in our city, he was visiting them for Eid-ul-adhah. They lived in the neighborhood 5 minutes from ours.

So I asked him about our ticket and seat numbers, where our car would be ( so we wouldn’t have to sprint down the the 1/4mile platform with kids and luggage to get on before it pulled away). He was SO nice, having come from Chicago where his wife and kids live with him and getting on this train with his brother ( who works in Dubai) to get home to his paren’ts. He informed us that we just were on the wating list for the general seating.

Have you heard about Indian trains? Was it bad news? almost everything horrible thing ever said about Indian trains was in  fact said about this exact car that we were going to have to “crash” on. Many, many horrible things. One of them being how you are practically sitting on people or in there lap the whole time. Stuffy, stinky, germ infested cars awaited our 3 hour journey home, WITH A NEWBORN, an unvaccinated newborn. Our new freind said that he just realized thats what they had too, and that if  he couldn’t convince the “T-T” to let him crash the 2nd class AC car for a small fee, then he would just go stay in a hotel and book a train for the morning. After hearing that, I decided so too.

part 2 to be contnued…

Sometimes life is hard, maybe often. OK mostly.

There is lots of life to catch up on here. It has been pretty full around our house the past few months. New friends in our city, many visitors, we also have a new nanny who has greatly reduced my stress level. We have a functioning schedule. It’s not perfected, but at this point i don’t know that it ever will be. Our tendency is to fill our lives so full that we can’t possibly do all the things we desire.  And there is a stress in that, knowing you haven’t managed to accomplish all you want to. Constantly waiting for the time when you do.

We school from 9-2 monday through friday. Then do lunch and naps, chores and dinner. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday we have meetings. Friday night is our new regular date night (wahoo!). Sunday is our family day. It’s usually a day of relaxing, not wearing our Indian clothes, pancakes in the morning, movies, uno, whatever we can get the kids into together, take out for dinner.

But today was a struggle. We played and then made brunch. Children bickering and fighting all the way through the morning. Whining and complaining graced my ears a bit too many times. So instead of three helping me cook, only one did, while the others got split up and had some time to RELAX. And it really continued throughout the day. Kind of a bummer.

Usually we don’t answer our door for anyone but the delivery boy in the evening on Sundays. But today we were to have an expected visitor. But we had 5. It seems in India you can’t get anything or anyone moving into forward progress very quickly or on your time schedule. And then everything happens all at once. “slam bam, thank you mam”.

At 5 ish J answered the door and it was a friend of mine I hadn’t seen in over a year. Her and her two sons were visiting my Hindu neighbor across the hall and heard about some americans who lived here, so she knocked and there we were! It was actually a nice surprise. I met her when I knew absolutely NO Urdu, and I felt a good connection with her but just couldn’t communicate.  That was our first month here. She moved and we moved and I had a baby and all the sudden time just flew away.

Then when we were visiting (her younger son in playing with A and M and E, and her older son, 12 in with us, and her mother in law) The EXPECTED guest arrived with an extra one. The men from the FRO.

What is the FRO? No not men with big hair… It’s the Foreign Register’s Office. The place you go to register your presence in India, and the place you go to get your new baby’s visa. I know our baby is not so new. It has taken 8 eight months to get to this point, with still no visa in hand. Josiah has gone to the office 5 times now, and every time they have a new thing to give or do, with ambiguous answer for us.

Yes. They know that we have tickets to Thailand in just over a weeks time. But really it all comes down to small town men have a little bit of power and they milk it hard. Making everyone’s life who needs something from them a nightmarish emotional roller coaster.

And today it got to me. again.

I haven’t left India in over a year. I am SO ready for a break, different food, different culture, just DIFFERENT. We have a countdown chain that the kids have been clipping rings off of for 3 weeks now. Everyone is more ready for this break than we have ever been before. It’s been a busy, stressful half to 2012.

And our fate (at least mine and Taron’s) are in the hands of power-hungry, stupid small town men. I feel powerless. When we prayed the other day about it I heard God saying to trust him. I have never found it so hard before.

If we don’t have by the 21st, then plan B is to send J and the older 3. (cause he has some commitments and we wouldn’t make the kids miss out on there chance to see their good friends)And I can join as soon as I get it in hand. That means I probably have to go to the FRO by myself and get it. When you picture this place think a third world country DMV on a bad day. With no lines, and no AC.

So when you think of us, and think you haven’t heard from us in a while. It’s because we deal with this kind of crazy crap   drama almost daily. It’s amazing sometimes that we even have a furnished, livable home. Please pray. I feel my heart growing numb. From the held back desire to hope, and the flood of emotions that come with “what if”. Sometimes it’s so hard to trust God. I’m just being honest.

For now I will cling to the tiny seedling of hope that I have from looking back at my biggest fears this last year and seeing Him work them out better than  I could have planned. It really seems what I am battling with is growing my trust in this new image of God I have developed instead of shouldering the lies of Him I had in the past. At the root:

Is he really good?

Does He desire, allow, plan good into my life?

Doe He really want to give me good gifts?

Can I walk away with either result to this still trusting in Him for good in life?

 

Big Time Visitors!

When Nana and Papa (Watters) came to visit we got to hang out in our city for a few days and we got to go to “Tiger Camp” in the Jim Corbet National parks area. Sometimes I stand back and marvel at the things these kids get to do. Not that they haven’t also had GREAT sacrifices in life, but they have received awesome gifts as well. Like this: 1st time in a year that they have seen there grandparents and first time sitting on an elephant while she is bathing in the river.

Nana & Papa meet T for the first time. He is 6 1/2 months old here.


This is the official proof that T was on an elephant! A held him, but when Luxmi the Elephant sprayed them all with water, they screamed with delight, all except for T of course. He was done then.