How We Did Christmas Celebrations

Yes, it felt like Christmas around these parts, with the tree, the lights, and the treats, but we still felt like we were missing out on the joyful celebrations with friends and family back home. Thankfully, we did attend one party with our good friends here in Antsirabe. It was a "White Elephant" Christmas and we drew names for gifts. We also all pitched in for a positively, scrumptious Christmas dinner: chicken, noodles, stuffing, pie, cookies, corn, green bean casserole..., and mashed potatoes. Delish!

Our Christmas Eve and Day celebrations were a bit more tame... :) We were able to Skype with family while we opened gifts, which (almost) made it seem like we were all together! 

Best part of the day: opening gifts with family via Skype!

Her most favorite gift was from her daddy and me: a Doc McStuffins doctor kit!

The second best part of the day was playing with all of our great gifts!
It's amazing what our families can fit in a USPS flat rate box! They're the best! 

So, needless to say, Christmas was great, but different. While we missed family so much, we owned Christmas for ourselves, starting new traditions and redefining what the holiday will be for our little family. We loved the simplicity and near-absence of secular Christmas advertising, we enjoyed Christmas Eve service at a local church and at 2:00am with our church family back in the States, and we cherished the time we spent with our extended families thousands of miles away. God is so good.

How We Did Christmas Decorations

I've written and re-written this post in an effort to explain our Christmas this year, but I'm at a loss for flowery words, so let's just cut to the chase: we owned Christmas. Being so far from family, we had to take the celebration into our own hands this year.

Everything we personally own, besides all of that which was sold before we left and whatever we fit into our 11 pieces of luggage when we came, is on a crate somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic... or it might just be sitting in the States waiting for the "o.k." to be shipped. We don't know. Anyway, "everything" also includes all of our Christmas decorations; the tree, the lights, the ornaments, the handmade stockings, all of it. Then, we landed in Madagascar for two weeks and were flown to west Africa for a month of training. By the time we got back, it was two weeks until Thanksgiving and we hadn't even considered what the holidays would be like for us. 

It wasn't until after Thanksgiving that we even really talked about decorating or celebrating. Then, we set out in search of the perfect stand-in Christmas tree: a hand-carved, one-of-a-kind baobab, which we decorated with white lights (Chandler's request) that we found in a local shop...

and handmade, hand-painted, salt dough ornaments forged in the oven by yours truly and decorated by the little one.

We also got creative with our very own "Merry Christmas" bunting. Designed and assembled by yours truly, painted by the little one.

We also bought that little nativity in a small town known for it's crafts; the same town where we purchased our baobab. We discovered later that our angel is missing a wing, Mary is missing something, and Joseph is just plain missing... unless he brought gifts to baby Jesus because we do have, what seems to be, four wise men. Ahh, Africa. 

Oh, and Chandler made sugar cookies sans cookie cutters. Not too shabby.

Then, just a few days before Christmas, we received a package in the mail containing more decorations: a Christmas tree which went in Waverly's room, three stockings, and more cookie mixes, cake mixes, candy-making supplies, lots of sprinkles, and a gingerbread house kit!

Gingerbread cookies for our language teacher.

A carrot cake, apple pie, and cooler weather later, it definitely felt like Christmas!

Mirary Krismasy Sambatra!

First Play Date in Madagascar

Our language tutor lives just down our street and has a daughter, Niriko, who is 3-years-old. She speaks no English, Waverly speaks very, very little Malagasy, so they didn't play together much except to dance. 

More Milestones.

I am realizing as Waverly gets older and can speak for herself that I have less to say on her behalf; photos and videos provide a far clearer description of her than I could say in words. She speaks on a level above that of the average 2-year-old which I attribute to her spending a majority of her day with adults who speak to her like adults, she's sassy, she's independent, she still takes a long nap in the afternoon, she still enjoys food, she loves to brush her teeth, but doesn't like to use soap in the shower. I imagine she hasn't gained any weight from the 32 pounds she was before we left the States, but she hasn't really lost any either; unlike her mother, her appetite does not wane under stress. She still sleeps with her "boppy" (pacifier) at nap time and bed time because we couldn't bear the thought of changing one more thing in her life while the whole rest of the world was being turned upside down. She's an encourager, exclaiming,  "I knew you could do it!" when we get home from language school and reassuring us with the words, "I'm here for you" when she thinks we're sad. She still wears diapers at night, but we're getting closer to making the night time underwear transition. She loves to help do chores and cook, declaring that when she's a "big girl" she can do it all herself. She loves to cuddle, unlike in the early days and she loves to watch movies. She still loves Mickey Mouse and all of his friends, but is now into Doc McStuffins and playing "Mommy" and "Doctor". As of Friday, she sleeps in a big girl bed. Oh, and she's cute as ever.

Tent and a movie with Daddy!

All dressed up for a walk around the house!

Washing dishes African-style because I wouldn't let her wash clothes.

So excited about her "big girl bed"!

Sounds of Home

Mom and Frank went to the UK game last night. She recorded the UK fight song. #almamater #gobigblue #home (Yeah, that's right, I just hashtagged a blog post)

Our Reading Girl

It's not worth mentioning we've read this book many, many times.

Totally African Day

Let me tell you something we've learned about Africa: You never know what the day holds. Everything could be smooth sailing one minute and the very next minute you're unexpectedly riding in a pousse-pousse getting rained on because your husband told you to not worry about grabbing the rain jackets before heading out to find your daughter, you follow?

Such was the case just two days ago on our "totally Africa day".

We drove off for language school leaving Waverly crying in her bed and giving Andrine permission to take Waverly to the park after her nap. We'll come back to that in a minute.

We stopped at the store to grab some meat for dinner, run into fellow friends, chat for a bit, and scoot out to language school.

We arrive at language school to find the gate locked. At that very same moment that I got back in the car, Chandler received a text from other fellow friends saying that their class had been cancelled that morning and our class was cancelled for the afternoon. Cool.

We had a few hours to burn and decided to go on a drive outside of town. We drove straight into oncoming rain and turned around, figuring we'd go find the park (no, we had no idea where it was), then head home before Waverly got up from her nap.

Well, we didn't find the park and when we pulled into our compound our day guard told us that Andrine had left. My heart dropped pretty quickly at the thought of our nanny leaving Waverly alone inside the house. The terror in my heart probably showed on my face because he was quick to clarify that they went to the park. It was 3:00. Waverly should still have been asleep.

For whatever reason, we decided to go find the park again and, hopefully, find Waverly and Andrine. What an adventure we thought it would be to take a pousse-pousse! A pousse-pousse is a man-powered rickshaw and we have many pousse-pousse drivers that hang around the entrance of our street. One, in particular, Chandler has gotten to "know" in his very limited Malagasy, so we flagged him down.

About halfway through our ride to the park, which we found out is across town, it began to rain. Before we headed out I asked Chandler if we needed to grab our rain jackets. His response: we're dedicated now! And I went with it because, truly, it's a pain in the you-know-what to get back into our house once it's locked up. Anyway, so we're on this rickety pousse-pousse in the rain, when he pulls over to attach pieces of plastic to shield us from the rain. Unfortunately, it didn't keep us from the rain dripping in through the roof. Eventually, we make it to the "park" and all we see are basketball courts, no playground. Thinking we may be in the wrong place, I call our nanny who says that she and Waverly are back at the house... it's raining and the house is locked up. Cool.

So, we load up in the pousse-pousse and I'm pretty sure I told him, "We need the house" instead of, "we need to go back to the house." Whatev. Halfway through our ride back to the house, the pousse starts jerking and we realize that he has a flat tire. Fortunately, he realized it as well, pulled over and hailed another pousse for us.

First pousse-pousse ride!
Chandler lost the privileges to his hat when it began to rain and we didn't have our rain jackets per his negligence.

Our second driver getting us home!

Our dilemma now: How do we tell the driver where to go? The first driver came from our street, so to our street he was going; however, this guy had no clue where we lived and we had no clue how to tell him except, "tsy lavitra" - not far, and "azafady" - excuse me, then pointing which way he needed to turn.

FINALLY, we made it home and I was so happy to see our girl standing with Andrine under the porch overhang! Chandler parked and decided that he would offer to take Nirina home, instead of him riding his bike in the pouring rain. This also helps us know where Nirina lives in case we have a need to visit him; i.e., family is sick or something like that.

Off they go and while he is gone, Andrine and I have some time to talk and get to know each other better. She speaks fairly good English, as her mother was an English teacher, but she also taught me some Malagasy. She also offered the information that she used to cook for another American family she worked for. Yes, please!

Meanwhile, as Chandler is driving Nirina home, Nirina sees one of his daughters walking on the side of the road. Hop in! Then, conveniently, it was time for his other two daughters to be leaving school, so Chandler picked them up too! - BTW, this was absolutely African for Nirina to request that Chandler pick his daughters up from school while heading home. Not a big deal, but just characteristic of the African culture.

It wasn't until Chandler got back home that he realized that Nirina still had the gate keys, so he drove back to get the keys. All the while, Andrine, Njacka (our night guard), and I are having conversations (and by conversations I mean, I say things in Malagasy like a small child, Andrine restates it probably more like it should have been said, and Njacka uses simple phrases and words to respond. Bless him).

So, the next day, we rewarded ourselves and our adventurous spirits by spending a few hours a a nearby hotel pool. Don't be misled by the beauty of the pool; the walls around it are high enough to not be able to see what was going on around us. It was a good escape for a few hours. :)

Such is life.

I waited to do laundry until today.

I put one load in the washer, blow a fuse when my hair dryer, straightener, and hot water kettle are plugged in at the same time. Chandler "resets" the fuse (not at all), and we leave for church thinking our power is out. We figure out at lunch that Chandler pushed the wrong button to reset the fuse. Get home and actually reset the fuse. Finish one load of laundry. It begins to rain, as it is the rainy season here in Madagascar. It rains well into the evening. Can't hang clothes on the line, of course! and dryer machines are practically, but not completely, obsolete in Africa. Clothes are laid out all over the living room to dry.

Today is the day I ALMOST finished one load of laundry.

The First Thanksgiving.

Can't lie: I have been dreading the holidays. Can't lie about this either: Initially, when all of this "moving to Africa" stuff seemed more theoretical than realistic, I was pretty excited about celebrating holidays as a small family in a foreign country. Then, theory became reality and since the day we left the States, I stopped being excited about holidays.

But this is the truth of all truths: we have an amazing team here on the island who helped make Thanksgiving wonderful and eased the sting of being so far from family.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Our First Thanksgiving in Madagascar

Me and Suzie!

Beautiful Antsirabe

Princess.

Of course there was football; we're still American.

So sweet!

Bath Time

In Africa, you just never know what kind of bath you'll get.
Sometimes it's quite luxurious...

Sometimes it's a straight up shower. This is our shower at home, no bath tub, and this is Waverly's first shower experience. Guess she better get used to it!

Sometimes it's in a bucket-tub with lukewarm water...

She's even bathed in the wide open with cold water from a small bucket. What a trooper.

Culture Shock 101

I wish I could experience life through Waverly's eyes.

6 countries, 4 time zones, 2 continents, 1 month. She'll be 3 in March.

Never before has she been around so many people with much darker skin that don't speak a lick of English, her only language. Never before have so many children wanted her attention. I just can't process what she is going through.

We went to church yesterday here in Burkina Faso. It was a 2 1/2 hour service but we had the freedom to step outside without feeling judged for interrupting the service. I packed a pb&j and an apple, plus a few books, and a coloring book and markers to keep Waverly busy during service, not knowing what to expect.

Mistake #1: don't tell your child you have a snack. She wanted her sandwich right off, but my plan was to save it until the end of the service which would be over about 1:00. I managed to hold her off for a bit, but caved because she was having a meltdown. Oh, and all of the kids are already staring at the 'nasara' (foreigner), then she's eating a sandwich in front of them. 'Sorry you all will just eat rice for lunch, maybe nothing, while my daughter chows on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for snack. Oh, you don't even know what peanut butter is? Well, it's delicious. See how she enjoys it so much? We're from America, can you tell?' Ugh. I felt terrible.

Mistake #2: don't tell your child she can have some Fanta for lunch if she shakes hands with everybody who wants to shake her hand. We learned a very important cultural lesson when we stepped on the church grounds: everyone will shake everyone's hands, even children, especially white children. I mean, we couldn't blame Waverly for not wanting to shake anybody's hand; that was so overwhelming for her, but how can we explain that to the people? Our translator called her out too, "you are not a very kind girl." He didn't mean harm by that statement, he was just acknowledging that she wasn't being culturally appropriate. So, we told her she could have some Fanta at lunch if she shook hands. Wanna know what she talked about for the next, oh, 2 1/2 hours? "I want Fanta." "No, you can have it at lunch." Super meltdown. Hear me: SUPER MELTDOWN.

Mistake #3: don't compare your child to the other national children. Waverly pretty much melted down the entire service, so she and I spent most of it outside in the courtyard. I was mortified by her behavior. Nothing I did was going to pacify her, nothing I could say, nothing. I kept looking at the kids around us who, none of them, cried about anything. Then I remembered that this was normal for these kids. This was all they had ever known, my child was in major culture shock and I just wasn't sensitive to realizing that.

Mistake #4: don't forget the toilet paper. Just don't. I did and when she had to use the potty, she peed in a hole in the ground and I didn't have anything to clean her with. Thankfully, she was wearing more absorbent panties. Thankfully, she did nothing more than "number 1".

To say that our church experience (not our first, though) was horrible is an understatement. But I learned a lot and it opened my heart to being more sensitive to what Waverly is experiencing right now. She processes culture shock in much the same way I do; unfortunately, through her attitude. Only for me, at almost 26, I can keep my frustration down until I am home in bed with no one around but Chandler. Her, at almost 3, isn't quite there yet.

This morning I was reminded of an answer I gave to a question asked in our extensive interview a year ago. Our interviewer asked to the affect of, 'why would you raise your kid in a third world country?' and I responded with, "Why wouldn't I want for my children to have that perspective on the world?" It's funny that the Lord reminded me of this today when just yesterday I was thinking, "How can we do this to her?" He keeps me accountable to the calling He placed on our lives individually AND as a family.

Please continue to pray for our sweet girl. Her whole world is so off kilter... No, maybe the better description is to say that her world is completely off its axis.

And now, for your viewing pleasure, Waverly's new trick: crossing her eyes.

Answered Prayers

Okay, I'll be honest, I've never TRULY believed in the total power of prayer. I just didn't understand it. I had never been sensitive enough toward the Holy Spirit's work through prayer... until now; until I have felt so desperate that I just cried out to Him in my heart and saw Him move in a way that only HE can receive the glory.

A few days ago, we packed up (again) for more training in west Africa. Just when Madagascar was beginning to feel like home, we transition yet again. Our first day of flight from Tana to Nairobi, Kenya was HORRIBLE. Waverly was HORRIBLE. I was HORRIBLE. And Chandler spent the day playing referee. There were so many factors playing into this day and I couldn't get a hold of myself; neither could Waverly.

That night, as we all lay in the same bed, I just cried. I felt like the worst mother, I felt like we couldn't control our child, and I really just didn't want to take another trip.

But I prayed. I prayed myself to sleep and heard the chorus from "I Need Thee Every Hour" over and over in my head.

The next morning, I woke up with a headache and Waverly woke up throwing a fit, so I got on Facebook and I sent an email to our families and I BEGGED for prayer. I knew we needed The Lord to work in a mighty way. And He did. We didn't just survive the day, we had a GREAT day. Waverly got a much needed nap on the plane which significantly improved my spirit. The icing on the cake: the row across from ours only had one person who sat next to the window, so Chandler sat in the aisle seat freeing up two whole seats for Waverly to stretch out. It.was.amazing. No screaming, very little crying, and the sleep (and peace!) that she so desperately needed.

He answered our prayers and provided more. God is so good.

And thank you to those who prayed very specifically for Waverly on that day. We are so blessed to have people who love us, support us, pray for us, and hold up our arms when we are spiritually, emotionally, and physically tired.

Two Weeks In..

Kelli's Perspective...

“Hey-lp!” is probably Waverly’s favorite thing to say. She heard it on an episode of Doc McStuffins. I think she asks for “hey-lp” just because she likes saying the word in that way. I, on the other hand, have cried “hey-lp!!” in my heart and I don’t say it for kicks.

This Africa stuff is hard. It may seem glamorous to go to Africa, and maybe it is when you visit, but when you have to survive and not just survive, but thrive, all that is admired about Africa is no more. Don’t get me wrong my spirit is at peace here because I know this is where the Lord wants us, but being in His will doesn’t mean it’s easy.

(As if I needed further proof of His calling on our life to be in Madagascar, the Malagasy root “kely” makes something little or small. For example, the word “manakely” means “to make something smaller”. Morgan, I figured you’d appreciate this the most.)

We’ve been gone just two weeks now and when I think of being here for four years before we head back to the States, my head spins and I may get a little nauseous. In just two weeks, I have taught myself to think only of the present time. Kind of like putting Matthew 6:34 into practice, not as a spiritual exercise necessarily, but as a practice of survival.

That’s my word: survive (survival, survived!, etc). That’s what we are doing: surviving and at the end of the day, we clap ourselves on the back because we survived! Extra claps on the back for the extra tough days. And we wake up each morning renewed and ready to face the day. That part, “the waking up renewed” part, is God’s grace because on the extra tough days, the carnal, human part of me would rather run away. But He restores my soul (Psalm 23:3a).

There have been more than a few times in the short time we’ve been here that my heart has cried out in pure anguish. I don’t feel “home”, I miss family so much it hurts, I miss the ease of my life back in the States, and sometimes, I just plain, don’t want to be here. Period. And in those times, my heart just aches and I can’t express in words what I want to say to Him, but I know He knows because He restores my soul every.single.day.

He gives me moments of joy throughout each day; like, when we greet a Malagasy in Malagasy instead of French like they may expect, and that person smiles at us, it lifts my spirit. And He gives me small victories; like cooking my first meal from scratch (spaghetti with apple crisp for dessert) and Chandler tells me that the spaghetti sauce was really good, then I feel like “I can do this”. And He gives me hope; like when we successfully complete an outing to the market, I realize that as I learn language, all outings will become easier.

All of this is going to take time. I know that. I know that there will be days that start out positive and we are blindsided by some sort of complication. But I also know that as time passes, we will learn how to take those complications as they come. We will learn this culture and language and my prayer is that these people will become our people. And that we will no longer survive each day but thrive where He has planted us.

 Chandler's Perspective...

There is a certain excitement and anticipation whenever you start out on a adventure into the great unknown.  With the anticipation and excitement comes an idealistic and distorted view of the world you are walking into.  That distorted view and idealism came as soon as we landed on the island: the people, the street-markets, the landscape, the world was all new and exciting and I could not wait to get this new life started.

            That idealism ended approximately 6 hours later when we closed our hotel room door and realized we were absolutely on our own, knowing none of the language to communicate and having no idea where we were in a city of millions.  As I laid in bed (awake from the jet-lag) I wondered to myself, “What have I gotten us into?”

            As the days have passed this question has continued to come up; however, the Lord has been good and faithful to answer it again and again.  “What have I gotten us into?” is answered through a great trip to the market, the smiles of the pousse-pousse drivers on our street, and the friendships made with Malagasy.  In short, I have led us where God has called us and this is a great comfort.  While this is a comfort to our spirits it does not necessarily make living life here any easier.

            Needless to say life is different now.  There are so many new challenges, so many new experiences, and a new normal to find but, I am confident that we will find that new normal and that we can and will thrive here.  It is going to take complete reliance on the Lord for everything.  So far I have only been able to realize this fact, not make it an everyday reality.        

            Not only do I have to rely on Him for provision and peace but also I have to rely on Him to give us a heart and love for this place.  We have known we were called to Madagascar for some time and specifically to the Antandroy people; however, really appreciating their culture and world is going to take some time and some serious love.  As I have been working through 1 Corinthians I have seen how truly essential love is.  It is “a still more excellent way” (1 Corinthians 12:31) as referred to by Paul.  This excellent way will not come from my best efforts.  This way can only come through the gifting of the Holy Spirit.  I cannot achieve it on my own but through supplication and prayer. 

            I am so excited to finally be here making a new way for our family.  We have experienced great highs and a few lows in our short time here so far.  We know that there are more to be experienced and much lies ahead; however, we rest (with anticipation) in the fact that the God who has called us here is aware of us and will grant us all things needed to make His name known!

The rest of the story.

I wish I could tell you that our next day's adventures following our dramatic trip from Kentucky to Johannesburg were uneventful, but then, I would be lying. However, it was fairly tame in comparison.

Being awake since 2:00AM, I was more than ready to start the day. We got out of bed around 6:00AM and took showers, then left for the airport around 7:00 with our ACSL traveling back to Madagascar with us. It was a blessing to have him along!

Our flight wasn't scheduled to leave until 10:15, but Praise the Lord, we arrived 3 hours early because first, we were told that our seats had been cancelled, so Chandler showed the itinerary and eventually they found their mistake. THEN, we were told that we were only allowed one bag per person at 50lbs each. We had packed and prepared as if we were given TWO bags per person at 50lbs each, so we only expected to pay for three extra bags. Turns out, we had to pay for SIX extra bags. That was a fun $800 to hand over.

I'll just say it, "Thanks, UNITED for screwing EVERYthing up from the get-go!"

All of this ate about two hours of our time; yes, two hours, giving us a very small window for breakfast and to make it to our gate in time.

By the time we boarded the plane, we had already reached our stress limit for the day. Fortunately, after they served lunch and drinks, Waverly and I were able to sleep (like rocks, mind you), the remainder of the flight. When we had to wake Waverly up, she threw a bit of a fit and as I reached over to hold her and soothe her, she fell back asleep almost immediately. I told Chandler that if our final destination required one more flight, I would refuse because I didn't think Waverly could handle anymore and neither could we.

But we got here and we got all of our luggage and were never hassled in customs or security (my two biggest fears of flying) and we've settled in quite nicely!

Being in Africa doesn't quite feel like "home", yet, but we're definitely not uncomfortable here. It's not scary, but maybe a little overwhelming. We are stared at everywhere we go and that's not so fun, but apparently, that's life now. Fortunately, we have co-workers here who have helped us navigate and communicate.

If I were to explain Tana to you, you either wouldn't believe me or just wouldn't get it. The city is a large juxtaposition. For example, our hotel is fairly nice: A/C units in most rooms, hot, running water, electricity, Wi-fi, but right outside our window, literally, is a shanty-town. Driving down the street in the middle of town are little shops, big buildings, and huts side-by-side. And I say "huts", like the ramshackle huts you might expect to see in the bush. Crazy. Unlike most of Africa, you drive on the right side of the road and the steering wheel is one the left side of the car, just like in America. LIKE most of Africa, people are crazy drivers and there are not stoplights, so you have to be super-defensive.

By nature, Chandler and I are city people, but being in this city makes us ready to get to our little town where life is a little slower and less overwhelming.

In two days, we head to Antsirabe!!

It's 5 o'clock (AM!) somewhere...

It's 5 o'clock AM here in Johannesburg, South Africa and we are wide awake. It's going to take some time for our bodies to adjust to the time change and we have another time change to navigate tomorrow since South Africa is 6 hours ahead of our normal Eastern Standard Time and Madagascar is 8 hours ahead. Anyway, we've been watching movies and eating snacks, not sure exactly how to handle the sleep schedule with Waverly.
We've been on this journey for about 3 days now (6 hours of which are just lost in thin air because of the time difference) and it has already been more adventurous than we had hoped for. Thursday morning started off fairly positively, except that we were over-charged for our extra luggage and found out we wouldn't be able to check our bags all the way to Madagascar like we had been told previously when we called the airline. Bummer. But all of our luggage weighed exactly as we planned, we gate checked our two carry ons and stroller, and boarded the flight to Chicago! We arrived in Chicago on time with time to find our gate, each lunch, and relax for a short time.
When they began boarding the plane, we decided we would board last of our group, which ended up being one of the last ones anyway. We didn't want to hold anyone up as we broke the stroller down and just organized ourselves before boarding. As we reached the agent at the gate, there was some confusion with our tickets, so Chandler went to the counter to work that out and I stayed at the gate with our things and Waverly. This is when things got hairy.
The lady at the gate informed me that we would have to check our rolling carry ons because there wasn't room in the plane for us to store them. She asked our final destination, I told her South Africa, and next thing I know, our carry ons with clothes, toiletries, and electronics were slated to be checked in baggage and picked up in South Africa. WHAT???? I called for Chandler to abandon his post and help me get this worked out.
Things got a little heated. We pulled the: We're-MOVING-to-Africa card and surely there was someone on the plane who wasn't going international who would be willing to check their bags so we could carry ours, but they were all less than helpful, somewhat rude, and rushing us through the gate. The supervisor was even more less than helpful and was actually kind of offensive (and I really don't get offended easily). Chandler told him of our fear of stuff being taken out of our bags when they arrived in Africa. His reply, "Oh, you'll see it again." Then Chandler asked, "Have you ever BEEN to Africa??" "No," he said, "but I hear it's beautiful." Jerk. At that point, I wanted to slap him.
I digress. So we grabbed what we could out of those bags to get us through to South Africa, with MUCH grumbling, and lugged it all on the plane. That was a long 1 1/2 hour flight, especially when we realized our computer was still in the carry on and could potentially be stolen since it was lying right on top of everything else.
We prayed. A lot. And when we got on the plane in DC, I texted family and asked THEM to pray that all of our luggage would make it to South Africa along with EVERYTHING inside. Then, all we could do was relax (as much as we could) and make it through.
On top of all of this drama, Waverly had not had a nap and melted down most of the way from Chicago to DC. That was stressful and I'll admit, I wasn't a very nice person or mother. And I didn't get any nicer when we landed in DC, met the requested supervisor at the counter and were told that there was nothing we could do except track the luggage when we reached our gate. I was ready to punch someone. But I didn't. Hear me, I didn't. I did, however, call it the "worst day of my life" and asked Chandler, "Can this day get any worse?" He replied, "Yep. My watch just quit." Our only dependable method of keeping track of the changing time. Awesome.
But let me tell you this, God heard our prayers. Waverly was AMAZING on the 17 hour flight; no crying, no fits. She was perfect. He gave us rest and revived our spirits. Then, about 16 hours into the flight, our already wracked and exhausted brains somehow remembered that the last time we were in Africa, our bags did not go through customs without us, so as long as they all made it to Africa, they would not be picked through because we would be there! Rejuvenated, we hurried off of the plane, through passport check and to the baggage carousel, where all 9 bags, plus our two carry ons showed up!! We were ELATED! God would still be good if all of our bags didn't make it. He would still be good if our computer had been stolen (Thanks to encryption!). But He showed Himself gracious, victorious and good by getting us through the longest few days...ever and protecting our belongings.
I think had He not answered our prayers like He did, I would have lost my mind when Waverly, playing on the swingset of the guest house, hit her head on the metal bar, cutting it open, and (practically) bleeding out. Great way to start our new life. Haha. But we went on to have a great meal with our bosses and are all ready to fly to Madagascar in the morning!
God is so good. All the time. I have never lived on "blind faith" until now. I have no idea what tomorrow holds, but I am learning that He does and nothing that happens is a surprise to Him. And we are careful to give praise and glory to Him who holds it all together (Col. 1:17).

"I Wanna Wear Your High Heels"

The Little Things

Well, our training is over and we are headed back to Kentucky for a week before we leave for Madagascar.

I must give credit where it is due and thank the Lord for His peace that surpasses all understanding (Phil 4:7). For weeks and weeks we have been praying that He would extend an extra measure of peace over us as we completed training and transitioned again for just a short time before leaving for the field. This next week of preparation and time with our families and friends is going to be a huge, nasty tangle of emotions and, to be quite honest, I didn't want to face it. So we prayed and we prayed hard ad we asked others to pray and, in His grace, the Lord has provided peace. For that, we are inexplicably thankful.

But I'm also thankful for something much smaller: Waverly likes African food. Encouraging, ey? Well, I'm encouraged, mainly because food is going to be one of the biggest adjustments for me. I love food and I love the food I love and the food I love cannot be found in Africa, except that which I can make from scratch. But naturally, I was worried about Waverly not liking the food. I mean, she IS her Momma's girl: she loves Chick fil a. But I cannot explain to you the relief I experienced when we ate African cuisine on two separate occasions during training and she actually enjoyed it. It wasn't a flooding-type of relief, the kind that washes over you when you run back into Joseph Beth because you left your phone in the bathroom and the lady at the counter tells you that, in fact, someone turned your phone in. No, it was a sweet relief like, don't be nervous, she was made for this. Maybe it wasn't even relief, maybe it was God speaking (more) peace into my spirit: I've got this. I know what I'm doing. She was made for this.

Ethiopian.

Senegalese.