Oh, Waverly...

Check out our sister blog: In a Waverly World

Exactly the Reaction We Expected.

It's true: we're pregnant! And we're way excited; Waverly, on the other hand, couldn't really care less and that's quite okay with me. What else would we have expected? Tonight she insisted that her baby was on our crate. Clueless. But we smile and nod and mutter amongst ourselves that her world will soon be rocked.

I believe I'm only about a month along and my pragmatic mind tells me we should wait until the golden 12-week-mark to tell the world about our little bundle of joy. By my desperate, dependent soul tells me that we need prayer every step of the way. We've trusted the Lord with a lot these past six months, we've been more desperate for Him now than in our entire lives, and being pregnant in a third-world country is no exception. 

What about healthcare? Well, we'll find out, won't we? But I am encouraged that I'm not the first ever missionary to carry or birth a baby in Africa. And I am thankful that we have travelled this journey once before so that I can have some peace about what to expect along the way. 

But as you think of us, please pray. Pray that we will have wisdom over the next nine months. Pray that it will be uneventful and maybe even fun. Pray for good health. And please, oh please, pray that Waverly will lighten up. 

A Word from Job

"For he wounds, but he binds up;

he shatters, but his hands heal"

Job 5:18

I'll be honest, I don't really understand the book of Job. I'm reading it now as I am attempting to read through the Bible chronologically and I understand Job's "predicament" (whoa, way to minimalize the loss of his entire family and all that he owned...), but I don't fully understand the stance that his friends take on the situation. What I do know is that Job's friend, Eliphaz, speaks some serious truth about God in chapter five and this particular verse hit so very close to home. 

Oddly, I am comforted that the Lord is the one who wounds us and shatters us (or allows us to be wounded and shattered), then He puts us back together again. I think in the past six months, we've lived both sides of this and, quite honestly, I'm thankful for it. Our sufferings haven't been life-endangering and our faith hasn't been persecuted, like so many of our fellow "sent out ones" around the world, even in here in Africa!, but He's brought us low, emotionally and spiritually, and sometimes physically with different illnesses. Then, He binds us up. His hands heal us. He renews our spirits. 

We are there now. We are refreshed for the work He has set before us.

We took our first language evaluation a couple of weeks ago and while we met our goals, I was sorely disappointed in my performance, so much so that I cried just about all day. Pitiful, right? Chandler had to talk me down every time the tears started spilling over again. I was a hot mess. But contrary to my usual response to defeat: falling back into the shadows and losing confidence in myself, I knew I had to get out and practice. I was motivated. And my action has not only built great confidence, but has opened doors for me to start relationships with women that I come across on a regular basis, which, in turn, has helped Madagascar feel even more like home.

Just this past weekend, Waverly celebrated her third birthday and, if you've read our sister blog you'll know that I was dreading it a bit. But it turned out to be a truly enjoyable experience with friends here in town and with family via Skype. And honestly, this may sound cheesy, but it was one of those experiences that makes me think, "We can do this. We can live here and thrive, not just survive."

I am confident the future holds more bouts of serious homesickness and general sadness, but I am also confident that there are many joyful moments and many revelations from the Lord that confirm we are where we should be doing the work He has called us to do. And through this time of service in Madagascar, however long it may be, He will wound and shatter, but He will bind up and heal all for His glory. Worth every minute.

3rd Birthday Eve

I fully expected to be at least mildly depressed around this particular birthday. Had you asked me a few of months ago, following my most depressing birthday to date, I would have lamented that there is no hope for future happiness, not even on birthdays. You see, I love birthdays: mine, Chandlers, yours, etc. I love the celebration, the dinner at a nice restaurant, and giving the perfect gift.

Mine was the first birthday we celebrated in Africa, away from family and all of the birthday traditions. I was sad and that's an understatement. I was even more sad thinking about how pitiful Waverly's next birthday celebration would be: Snyder, table for three, at Cafe Mom... Oh, and here's a pair of socks, kid. They were forgotten in the bottom of a suitcase when we moved here. They're just like new!

But I've been most pleasantly surprised with the unfolding of tomorrow's events which do include playtime and cake with local friends and a party with family, complete with invitations. We organized a Skype/FaceTime with each of our families and are looking very forward to having three tea parties and A LOT of strawberry cake, per Waverly's request. Just a little pre-planning and pre-purchasing on our part and we will have a celebration to remember.

So, I'm not sad tonight as we anticipate Waverly's big day. And I'm not sad that she is turning three. Maybe I should be since she's our first-born, but I am excited and... Surprised?
Really, though, I can't believe Chandler and I have kept a small one alive for three whole years, even while crossing an ocean. She's a resilient little being; stronger than I have been on some days. Her life was turned upside-down and, although she expresses her sadness at times, she reminds us, in her own wisdom, that we are where we belong.

She talks all of the time and most days we laugh, but some days we nearly lose our minds. She sleeps in a big girl bed, doesn't wear diapers ever, quotes movies like it's her job, loves to dance, loves to eat, and loves to practice her Malagasy, especially when it earns her a piece of candy. She can't sit still. She has a memory like a steel trap. She's a charmer like her daddy. She has a heart full of love and a big, beautiful smile. Quite often, we look at her and have a surreal moment with the realization that she is ours. The Lord has entrusted us with her and, somehow, we've made it three whole, wonderful years. Here's to many more!