Catholic Jewess

  In Africa there are many Catholics and therefore, many Catholic nuns. The nuns wear head veilings and modest, solid colored dresses, similar to what we wear. You can imagine what happens. I have been called "sister" from the time we set foot in Africa. I've even had a drunk man try to argue with me that i can't be married because i'm a Catholic sister, thanks to my white veil. I've been told by a friendly Kenyan woman that she thought maybe i was a naughty nun when she saw a pregnant, white veiled "sister." Never mind if i'm with Marlin and never mind that i may be pregnant or be surrounded with children. In their minds, a white veil and solid colored dress labels me Catholic and since i'm usually either pregnant or carrying a child, i must have purity issues. I've considered wearing a large t shirt that says i'm not Catholic and sometimes i try to get friendly with Marlin when we're out and about and i get called sister, or see people watching me with puzzled looks. But Father Marlin doesn't take kindly to Catholic sisters getting all romantic in the pampers aisle so i mostly keep my hands to myself, grit my teeth, and look forward to the day when i'm not only set apart from the world but also from the Catholic nuns. But i've never been called Jewish in Africa until this week.

  Marlin, Christopher, and i took a plane to Uganda this week to visit our friends Charlton and Natasha Sweazy. Of course i was called "sister" when i set foot on Ugandan soil but nevertheless, thanks to Christopher, we were took to the front of the line in the airports. Even naughty nuns are shown respect. So one evening Charltons took us out to supper at this amazing mall and in this amazing mall, there was an amazing gelato (italian ice cream) stand and of course, this called for denying ourselves in an amazing way and slurping down gelato's. I informed the pleasant lady behind the glass that i would like to sample the rum raisin gelato. She looked at me in shock and said, "there's rum in it." Clearly, she didn't think otherworldly creatures like nuns should be indulging in rum raisin gelato. At that point i informed her that I AM NOT A CATHOLIC AND I AM NOT A SISTER. The Ugandan woman standing beside me looked at me and asked, "so what are you? Jewish?" Frankly i would far rather be considered Jewish than Catholic, since Jewish women are allowed connubial relationships with their husbands. A fornicating Catholic goes against everything i stand for. But of course, i said no, i'm not Jewish. I told her that i'm a christian who loves Jesus. Her response took my by surprise. Her eyes got huge and she said quite emphatically, "NO!!" I told her that oh yes, it's true. I then turned and fumed my way back to my husband in the restaurant and promptly ordered rum raisin gelato. In spite of my Catholic attire, it was every bit as delicious as i imagined.

Hi from the Weavers

  Our crazy, loud, opinionated family. I adore them all. So, so proud of my row of handsome young men and beautiful daughter. Ignore Christopher's pained, angry look as he has one purpose in life and that purpose was safely tucked away, giving him an attitude. And i personally believe Marlin gets handsomer every year. LOVE the gray streaking his hair, giving him an air of distinction. Ah yes, i am blessed among women. 

  I also love the green door behind us. 

  We are only days from, (Lord willing....always Lord willing) seeing family and friends again. The paper chain is slowly disappearing and we are cleaning out corners and excitedly talking about who we're going to see and what we're going to eat. Why does it always come back to food with us? We love Jesus.........and good food. We may need help. Preferably with a side of good coffee and dessert. Marlin will take bacon with his. Or sushi.

  We have begun the firsts of "this is the last time we will be doing this..." and sometimes that hurts. I keep telling the children to soak up life here and not focus to much on the future, because never again will they be this age and live in Kenya. They of course take this advice to heart.......NOT. Someday they will know why i say this. Meanwhile i will continue to say it even while i keep the butterflies in my stomach at a low roar. I am also excited. 

  We will have a 6 hour flight from Nairobi to Qatar and then a 15 hour flight to Philadelphia. Fifteen hours, people. That's enough to start many gray streaks in my hair. Since i don't sleep on airline flights, can you imagine the state of my emotions when we land? Calm and collected, only because i will be in zombie mode. So i'm praying for a miracle. A miracle of sleep for all those handsome boys, for myself, and especially handsome baby, along with a gracious stewardess who will allow me to lay said baby on cozy floor bed. Will you pray with me? In the scope of things, it's a small thing to pray for, perhaps even selfish. So pray as you feel led. 

  And now, duty and dirty bathrooms call. So until next time..........

  

  

Of Death.....and Wildflowers

    Saturday we went to our language teacher's wife's funeral. She was only 48 years old and she lay in her elaborate casket, her face sprinkled with gold glitter. She had been a sweet, quiet woman that always blessed my heart every time i was around her. Which wasn't often, but often enough to make an impression on me. She and her husband had lost several children in excruciating ways and i couldn't help but rejoice for her that she is now free. I think part of her heart was in heaven for a very long time.



   As is part of mine.

   Friday we made our farewell visit to Hadassah's grave. I struggled over going. I was afraid of the pain and seriously considered not going, since we all know that she's not really there but somehow i thought we needed to go for closure. Especially Emily and i. So after visiting our friends who live near there, we trekked over to the church where she's buried. I had debated over buying roses to put on her grave but left it go and after being there, i knew why. The little ones started gathering wild flowers and laying them on the cross that the boys had made for her. The cross was lying down when we got there, so we set it back up and i watched the little's joy as they ran around, shouting with great delight as they gathered bunches of frail, windblown flowers. It was then that i realized that wildflowers fit Hadassah so much better than cultured roses. She was our little wildflower, too delicate and frail to stay with us, badly as we wanted her.

  So how do i feel about leaving her grave behind? For the most part i'm ok with it. I think sometimes we may focus to much on the grave of a loved one and it can actually keep us from releasing and healing. On the other hand, the closer we come to leaving, the more i think of her. I find myself wondering what she would be like if she had lived. So i have a lot of mixed emotions but then Kenya itself holds a lot of mixed up feelings for me. A lot of tears and joy, threaded with a frail pink that's Hadassah.

Elephant Orphanage

  Last week we headed to Nairobi to take Marlin's mother to the airport because she was flying back to the states after being with us 3 months. We arrived in Nairobi on a Saturday and since she wasn't flying out until Monday at 5:30, we decided to visit the elephant orphanage Monday morning and watch the caretakers feed the baby elephants. It was a neat way to end our time with grandma. After all, who doesn't love babies of all sizes and shapes.

Nothing like a drink and a loving hug around the neck at the same time.

These are the little ones. Well, unless you compared them to the babies on the other side of the rope. 

Not every child can claim the distinction of petting an elephant.

He's liking it so very much.

A little love.

Grandma Weaver is one of those grandma's who likes a little adventure in her life. Petting a behemoth? Sure, no problem.

The adorable sleeping quarters for the babies. And for only $50 a year you can "adopt" a baby elephant and have the rare privilege of watching it go nighty-night.
"cough." 

Marlin and i saw these cute mammals and decided to adopt them instead. Putting them to bed is as exhausting as putting baby elephants to bed but far more worthwhile. Baby Christopher was asleep in my sling and being that he was sick, i hated to disturb him. There was a young Brazilian woman who was amazed at our crew and kept saying in amazement how perfect and handsome they are. I couldn't agree more. :)

  Marlin and i have mixed feelings about the elephant orphanage. While we agree that its heartbreaking to have orphan animals, it seems kind of ludicrous to spend millions on animals without souls when there are thousands of hurting children a few miles from the orphanage in one of the biggest slums in the world. (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/2297265.stm) Even tho i'm not an animal lover as in wanting them to hang around my feet, I hate to see hurting animals and few things make me as angry as a defenseless animal being cruelly mistreated, however, in comparison to children........

  Tonight we sat around the campfire as a family and the conversation turned towards Hades/Paradise and what that is or means and how we can know that we are under the Lordship of Jesus Christ. Good, heart searching conversations, especially in light of moving back to the States in just 2 1/2 months, Lord willing. Here, poverty and the fine edge between life and death are always present. You leave our compound and it smacks you in the face. Last week we made a wrong turn in Nairobi and ended up in the outskirts of the very slums i mentioned in the previous paragraph. Last week, at a police check, Marlin got locked into a tiny room and then was asked for a bribe. Those kinds of experiences force our children to ask a lot of hard questions. They recognize that their growing up years are in the minority in this world. The safety and love of a two parent home, a warm bed, plenty of nourishing food, and christian friends is something that is hard to take for granted when you see the opposite all around us. They've seen the glue boys, sniffing their bottles for a bit of relief and the drunk, homeless men sleeping in the middle of a grassy patch between two highways. In the city slums, the consequences of not serving Jesus are very clear and horrific. Sin and despair are obvious companions on the streets. 

  So what will happen when we go back to comfortable, middle class America? Our heart is to continue to serve "the least of these" in whatever capacity God calls us. Our mission experience here has been quite the ride and there are parts we weren't prepared for, but one of the main reasons we came has been fulfilled, and that was so our children could see that the world is so much bigger than America. Very few people have had the privileges we have and we pray we won't forget that. God is going to hold us so very, very responsible not, as Marlin says, for what we have given but for what we have kept back. We're excited about going home and wrapping our arms around family and friends. We're excited to move to Virginia and worship Christ with new friends, and to sleep in a house without bars across the windows, but at the end of the day, we want to want Jesus more than anything. 

  Pray for us. It seem the spiritual warfare has intensified in the last several weeks as we start turning our faces towards "home." I'm fighting a lot of fear and at times it's overwhelming. Jesus is calling me to start getting up quite a bit earlier than i normally do. He's wooing me, wanting to have me soak in His presence, and my heart is hungry for that. Not out of law or fear, but out of relationship. To think He loves me and wants to fellowship with me is more than i can fathom, but getting up early is hard so if you think about it, ask God to give me the strength to deny that extra hour of sleep. 

  I'll leave you with a verse that has spoken to my heart.  

John 14:27 - Peace i leave with you. My peace i give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. 

AMEN!!! 

The Other Side of the Wall

    I set the flavored coffee creamer out with a quiet sense of pride. We were having friends over for coffee and i loved having something special to serve with our coffee. We were at a crucial stage of our lives. Struggling with credit card debt from a party lifestyle before meeting Jesus, and unable to make ends meet, we were praying about moving from Ohio back to Lancaster Co where Marlin had a job offer. (btw, i had told God i would rather move to China than back to Lancaster. That's another whole story but you can guess where God put us. Lancaster it was.) So our mentor friends came over and we were fellowshipping and sharing about our frustrations when our friend made a comment that has never left me and that changed my whole perspective. He pointed at my bottle of coffee creamer and ever so kindly told me that even little things like that make a difference when you want to get out of debt. I was stunned but after i got over my reaction, i knew i had heard truth and God wanted me to pay attention. That was years ago and we did move back to Lancaster. (and it was a blessing) I struggled with the fact that as a stay at home, homeschooling mama of many littles, i couldn't make money to help out with that debt load. So i prayed about it and the Holy Spirit impressed on my heart that every little sacrifice i made, He would multiply it, loaves and fishes style. I would stand at yard sales, debating whether God meant something as small as a 50 cent piece of something pretty. Often i would lay it back down and walk away, wondering exactly how God was going to manage to multiply something so small but knowing that my heart felt free. I didn't realize that God was teaching me basic principles of money management, of self denial, and of trust. And somehow, He multiplied our efforts and we were able to pay off all debts far sooner than we ever dreamt possible. We talked about calling the Dave Ramsey show and screaming "we're debt free!!" but that never happened. Instead we bought a farm and learned what being poor, american style, really was. :)

  So we move to Africa and Marlin and i wrestled with the poverty outside our compound walls. We knew what it was like to struggle financially but never had we seen anything like we saw here. Our typical, American response was to start handing out money and food but thankfully we had people here who warned us against that. It wasn't long before cynicism knocked on our heart's doors and when the electricity would go out for the fifth time in one day, one of us was sure to mutter, "stupid country." I worried and prayed about our hearts, wondering if we were going to leave discouraged and bitter. It seemed that the more the poor received the more they demanded, and the more they demanded the less we felt like giving. And yet we couldn't deny that there were very real needs surrounding us, and that the Americans had the power and money to help. So why did everything seem backwards and wrong? Were missions and foreign aid a joke? Maybe even wrong? So what does a person do about the scriptures telling believers to help the poor? What about the great commission? And what about the fateful verse, "Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away?" I was ready to hand out everything we had and Marlin and i got into some heated (i mean loving, ha!) discussions about what that verse means. Turns out maybe i was wrong and he was right. What??

  And then i was handed a book this past weekend that i've been devouring in great gulps. "The other side of the wall" by Gary Miller. If you have any interest in missions, reaching the poor, and giving, you need to read it. If you have no interest in such things i pity your poor soul. He hits every question that Marlin and i have struggled with and lays out Biblical giving in a clear, compassionate way. I had such guilt when we first came with being born not only in one of the world's richest countries, but also being born into a culture that values honesty, moral integrity, and a hard work ethic. I also wanted to kick every African male's backside who took a second wife. Still working through that one.

  The crux of the matter is that every true, born again believer is going to have a heart of compassion. It might not look the same or be walked out the same, but it will be at the core of a Jesus obeying person. But in spite of having giving, compassionate hearts, a person can do real damage by winging out dollar bills left and right. We have seen that damage. However, there is a place for giving financially and we have been the grateful recipients of people who gave to us in time of need. I don't think i'll ever forget the time when we had hit bottom emotionally and financially on the farm, questioning whether we had heard from God in the first place, and we opened the mail and someone had blessed us financially in a  way that we knew they couldn't really afford. We sat that day in stunned amazement, tears streaming down our faces.

  Sometimes you "just" need someone to walk beside you in love and humility, strengthening your faith in yourself and your abilities. We've been blessed with friends who have also done that. They believed in us, even when we weren't sure we believed in ourselves. They gave counsel and sometimes simply listened, drinking coffee (without fancy creamers ;) and hearing our hearts.

  Now that i think of it, i don't think Marlin and i have ever faced true poverty. We've always been blessed with rich relationships and so many other amazing components that have made us into who we are. Our hearts are to take what we have learned, and are learning, and apply it to our giving.

C- Sections, Needles, and Beautiful Baby...

  It's been a week since i lay under those bright lights and wondered what in the world we were thinking to ever consider a long needle in my spine and a knife in my stomach. Now that's it's over? Totally worth it! But don't we always say that?

Dr. Bonyo

  Christopher is doing wonderful and growing like a little man. I haven't weighed him but i'm convinced he's grown a bit since last week. His little face is filling out and he's getting wee little rolls on his legs. I love it, except it makes me sad to think of how fast he will be out of this stage. He's a very good baby so far. He had his days and nights mixed up at first but after working with him a day or two, he's up to 5 or 6 hour stretches at night. I won't promise it will last but i'm happy with even 3 hour stretches as long as he goes right back to sleep after eating. He has the appetite of a little piggy which would fit with the rest of my babies. :)

  So what do i think of a c-section versus natural birth? As i thot, there wasn't any "dear Jesus help me" or "I can't do this" or "NEVER, NEVER again" shrieks but neither was it anything like i envisioned. I was thinking long needle in my spine, and then complete and total numbness from my waist down. Nope, not so much.

  We got into the hospital at 5, planning on an early morning c-section the following day. What do you know, Marlin got a phone call from our surgeon informing us that she had just been told that theatre is full the next morning and she would like to do the surgery that evening yet. Marlin said sure, come on up, and i kissed my dreams of meatballs and french fries good by. He ate his soggy fish while waiting on doctor and the slow wheels of hospital of beaucracy to turn.  Thankfully i hadn't had much of any food that afternoon which is a blessing because puking and choking on the puke wasn't something i wanted to experience while under anesthesia. While we waited we had the privilege of listening to a lady in the throes of very natural labor next door. I found myself praying as much for her as for myself while my eyes filled with tears in sympathy.

Ok, i really, really don't like this picture. I look like i'm either having surgery or have bowel problems. But i'm leaving it on, mostly because Marlin posted it and partly because i can't always be beautiful. "choke" 

  Eventually they wheeled me downstairs on the stretcher and into a little cubby hole to wait on more nurses and paperwork. Marlin asked to be allowed in the operating room so after signing papers that he wouldn't faint and sue them for it, he donned the proper gear and waited. I was feeling pretty calm, up until they wheeled me into the operating room and i saw all the bright lights, the table where i was to be dissected, and the gloved and hatted assistants waiting with their hands in the air. I assumed the "position" and felt the needle go in and the liquid start flowing into my system. As they laid me back and i realized that while i wouldn't feel pain but i WOULD feel pressure, tugging and various other procedures, i had a moment of raw, pure, unadulterated fear. Throw up kind of fear. Never had i felt anything like it and at that moment i envied the woman moaning and praying upstairs in the throes of drug and needle free childbirth. I started praying. Furiously. It's not like i could sit up and say i've changed my mind. I had zero control over my legs at that point and i don't think anyone would've listened if i had. (and just for the record, you know how little, conservative girls are taught modesty as soon as they can sit up? they should also teach them that there will be exceptions and c-sections are one of them. Thankfully they soon taped large blue sheets over my lower half and i hoped no one was scarred for life, esp myself.) As quickly as the fear entered it left, followed by a complete and total peace. I started thanking Jesus for this opportunity of trusting Him, i thanked Him for being in control and i basically held my own praise and worship service while staring up at the ceiling and clutching Marlin's hand. I felt them marking where the incision would be and i sensed when they began, altho thankfully i couldn't feel the actual cutting. I was unprepared for the tugging and pressure that happened and i started wondering if they would ever get the baby out or if they had lost their way. After a great tug and me telling Marlin that i was going to be sore for a very, very long time, we heard a gurgle and Christopher James was pulled out. Marlin said he could tell when the doctor had him out because she got a great big grin on her face. There were tears and rejoicing and much anxious checking to see that baby was ok. And he was!!!

When i first saw this little man's nose i thot it looked like he fit right in with this country. I honestly was a little worried that his nose was abnormal. (It was before i saw the picture of myself during surgery.) His nose is now unsquashed and quite adorable. 

  The nurses brought Christopher over to Marlin and we adored him while the doctor continued to play tug of war with my insides. Marlin and baby disappeared and eventually, at long last i was wheeled out of the operating room and into recovery. That part was tough. My legs felt like concrete and as if there was a million needles pricking them. Like how you feel when you wake up during the night and your hand fell asleep and you can't move it. It was incredibly claustrophobic and i kept praying that no terrorist would decide to choose this time to take over the hospital. Seriously. You think of those things when you are living in a third world country and your legs are completely helpless. At long last they deemed me fit to be moved upstairs and they wheeled my wobbly, still semi numb body upstairs. Marlin was waiting and shortly they brought Christopher in and all was right with my world. Except i had a gash in my stomach, my legs still wouldn't work, and the poor lady next door was still birthing the old fashioned way. At that point i decided i would rather be me than her. Sometimes natural is over rated.

  We were privileged to have a very nice, private room and when the feeling returned to my limbs and they hooked up my pain meds, it truly was right with my world. By Sunday i was home and here we are, a week later. My healing has been going very well, except for a small bout of emotional hormones the fourth and fifth day. Wow, that was not so fun but from what i gathered, normal, especially after a c-section. Christopher is absolutely the cutest thing ever and i don't think it's possible for a child to be loved more.

  Simply put, we are seriously in love!

A Missionary Woman of Great Proportions

  So i'm 5 wks away from D-day......and that means i feel beautiful. Fulfilled. Gracious. Womanly.

  OR NOT!

  I do feel very rich at having the opportunity to carry another baby under my heart, but quite frankly, i also feel very grouchy. I discovered a way to make a husband's eyebrows shoot high is to tell him that you feel grouchy enough that if it was closer to due date you would think labor is soon to commence. Few things make a man panic quicker than to tell him that as he is preparing to head into the interior for the day.

 I assured him. "No worries, dear. I've 5 wks to go."

 Besides, i haven't had the nesting urge and everyone knows there's no chance of a baby before the clothes are washed and pampers waiting. I've only been to see my doctor once because the other two times she wasn't available so i'm sure little mr. weaver will be gracious enough to wait. Most likely he'll be so gracious that he won't show up until my due date is past, and i've destroyed any hopes of presenting a womanly, gracious mother figure to the world, never mind my family.

  At least telling Marlin that i'm miserable enough to take a few heads off earned me a shoulder rub from him. He also ordered all children at a safe distance from me for their own safety sake.

  We're the kind of missionary family everyone dreams of emulating.

  I think though that i'm feeling a bit better after a cup of coffee, laced with caffeine and sugar. If there was a Starbucks close by and i didn't have to brave Kenyan roads and lunatics, i would drive there and ponder the seriousness of life over a good book. That is if i didn't have any other children needing a mother. But i do happen to have many offspring, and there's no Starbucks and there ARE many lunatics outside this compound careening over speed bumps on piki piki's so i will stay put and do laundry.

  Wish me well.

 

Soccer after the Thanksgiving feast

  Marlin is back and i had plans of pictures with him and i and the crew but we were too busy hugging and laughing to think about cameras. Wow, it is just amazing to have him home again. Except that he left before the week was out, taking our friends, Brent and Mariellen Rosenberry and family, to the Masai Mara. At least he's still in Kenya and not across the world.

  Our friends, Brents, came almost 3 weeks ago and we are having a great time. There's something about "old" friendships that are irreplaceable. If you want to see Kenya from their perspective, they are blogging about it at http://rosenberryfamilyjourney.blogspot.com. I have to warn you that i have yet to see a flattering picture of myself on their blog but i'm way to mature to care about such things like that. (is it lying if everyone knows you're being sarcastic?)

 So here's a few random pictures of what's happening the last several weeks.

 First, belated Thanksgiving Day pictures.

The singles did a great job decorating and the women a great job cooking. The men grilled 3 different kinds of meat while we ladies slaved over mashed potatoes, broccoli salad, fruit salad, homemade rolls, 3 different kinds of butter spreads, and a frozen strawberry dessert that was incredibly refreshing.

A table full of giggles and half eaten bites

Zachary at his finest

The Weavers and the Rosenberrys 

  We had a great day. It's the celebration day of the year, since Christmas we all head to church, not leaving so much time for food and fellowship. In the afternoon there were games for the children and a few for the adults. It stormed and rained hard in the evening so we had to put the sides of the tent up while we shivered through our homemade ice cream and pies. Great memories and a lingering sadness that this time next year we won't be sharing Thanksgiving with these people. We love them.

  Fast forward to the Yacht Club. We (including our friends Brent Rosenberrys) had been at the clothing sale and Bible Study at church the other day. It made for a long day, and we refreshed ourselves by heading out to the Yacht Club for supper. It's just a short distance from our house but it's like being far, far away. So peaceful with Lake Victoria lapping at the shore, lush green grass, and yummy paneer.

The Yacht Club. It sounds unaffordable but in reality the prices are quite decent and the food is delicious. It's a little retreat away from the dust, dirt, and commotion of city life.

This picture is so Josh. He is SO full of life and energy and tackles life with gusto.

Phase 10, anyone?

Seriously, we teach them nonresistance. 

The tire pier where only swimmers are allowed. Sometimes there are hippos by the shore but lately they have been nonexistent.

 
   Marlin's still in the land of golden streets and money trees.

  Not heaven.

  America.

  At least that's how some Kenyans view the land of my birth. They think that as Americans we don't have hurts, or pain, or heartbreak, and that our Nike clad feet stroll over streets that belong in heaven. They will smile when we talk of how to live through tears but they will admit readily, and have admitted, that we can go back to our America where the money flow never ends and people rarely die. Somehow our hurts just aren't as deep. Or so they think.

Jennifer's Gardens. A beautiful retreat where the missionaries can escape the pollution of the big city and soak up some serious beauty. 

They are wrong. But from the viewpoint of mud huts and constant death, i understand. Or as much as i am able with the luxury of my heritage and the wealth of my homeland. There has to be a way to show them that we hurt and cry as hard as they do but i'm afraid that until we share their mud huts and live their pain, they won't believe.

  If they have a child dying from dysentery, they can't call the mission board or family, and be flown across the wide blue sky to hospitals where the floors are spotless and the medicine advanced. Sometimes tho, i wonder if we don't also suffer from having so much handed to us. Our faith becomes flabby and our rights tightly held.

 There's times I wonder if we fight too hard to keep ourselves alive. People spend thousands and millions on loved ones, saying you can't put a price on life. I agree. Completely.... but if the death of a saint causes God to rejoice at a loved one of His coming home, why do we fight and scream at God when it happens.

  I think of Hadassah. From the moment we heard she was going to die, we knew we needed to release her. To pound the gates of heaven and demand a miracle just wasn't an option. Sometimes it is. Sometimes God asks us to challenge Him and to ask for healing. Sometimes He seems to ask us to simply let go and believe that death is not the worst that can happen. Either way the pain is cutting and the hurt real, just as the healing and triumph over death is also real.

Some missionary children that keep hanging around. :) 

  This week a Kenyan whose testimony really touched our lives as a family, went home to Jesus. If you have ever read the book, "A Good Different" you will remember Musikala. A drunk and a wife beater who got delivered and set free. He died of a lung infection this week and part of me wonders why God took him when there seem so few for real christians in Kenya. But i can't grieve for him. I find my heart rejoicing that he is in the presence of God Himself. I grieve for his family. Being a widow is not an easy thing and being a widow in Kenya brings a level of hard that is not easy for us to grasp.

  I can't help but wonder if we could see past this veil that keeps us from seeing heaven, if maybe we would release our loved ones quicker.

  Unless they aren't ready. Then we storm the gates of heaven and weep for God to have mercy. We struggle to believe that His hand is bigger than the lies that bind the hearts of unbelief.

I wonder what their future holds????

  Somehow tho, we keep living, one day and one faith crisis at a time.

Isaiah 26:3-4

  Tonight Marlin is flying across the wide, wide world to the States for a week to spend time with his parents. His father is having open heart surgery and Marlin and i both felt he needs to go spend some time with them. The only problem is, I MISS HIM!

  Terribly.

  That's a side effect of living together for over 18 years. It's what happens when you laugh together, cry together, and argue together. It's what happens when you surrender to each other. You become joined in ways you never knew possible.

  He makes me laugh as hard today as he did 18 years ago. It's pretty amazing when a woman still thinks her husband is funny after dirty socks and natural childbirth.

  I can't believe that he not only still loves me, but he LIKES me. There's a difference, you know. Especially after he's had to put up with hormones and swollen ankles through 10 pregnancies. I'm just not always sweet and cheerful when i'm waddling and there's no question about it.....I am no longer a 20 year old and certain things change after this many babies. But he still calls me beautiful.

  And he means it.

  So now he's gone for a week and tonight i found myself restless and struggling with an indefinable something. I thot maybe it's guilt for not taking my vitamins and cod liver faithfully. But that didn't make sense because i haven't struggled with a whole lot of guilt before. I wondered if i'm afraid to sleep in Africa without my man beside me but i knew it wasn't that. And then i knew. I'm afraid he won't come back. That his plane will disintegrate, leaving me with 9 children and a broken heart. I thot of those stories where the husband and wife separate for a short time and then something happens and they don't see each other for months. Years. It wasn't a paralyzing fear, just a nagging feeling.

  The more i thot about it, the more i realized that the fear fit in with some other nagging feelings that have been haunting me.

  How do i KNOW that God really has our future in His hands? Since when would He care about what we do and where we go? He's a big God, i'm a puny (in a spiritual sense, not so much physical) human and i'm supposed to believe that He cares about small details? Such as whether we're having a boy or girl. Or where we go when our plane leaves Kenya. How to raise these boys and one daughter. Why my ankles are swelling and what if this baby is not ok. On and on. Quiet doubts that slowly undermine my faith and make me try to pick up the control i've worked so hard to lay down.

  Tonight i came across this verse and satan's lies retreated.

"You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You, because he TRUSTS in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock. 

Isaiah 26:3-4

  Amen and Amen!! Get thou behind me, satan! 

  I still miss Marlin. We all do. They adore their daddy and lets face it. He gets obedience in ways i only dream of and that helps too.

  But tonight i'm taping this verse up behind the bathroom door (i'm pregnant, where else do you think i spend the majority of my time?) so that i am reminded of who really is in control. I handed that control over 13 years ago and i have no intention, by the grace of God, to pick it back up. 

 Tonight i go to bed with my heart full of peace.  

Happy Birthday, Little One

A year ago you were born.

A year ago we held you, kissed you, and told you good by.

A year ago we laid your tiny, pink wrapped body in that little wooden box.

We know the pain of saying good by forever on earth.

Someday we will know the joy of saying hello in heaven.

We love you!!!

Hadassah Faith Sweazy

   We have some dear friends from another mission about 3 hours from here that came down to Kisumu to have their third baby. Charlton and Natasha Sweazy and their three little ones, Ava, Boaz, and just born, Hadassah Faith.

Of course Emily and i want to keep Hadassah as she is just a little doll, weighing in at 6 lbs. 7 oz. She makes the cutest little squeaky noises and wears pink like a real princess. 

Ava and Boaz have played much with our boys the last 3 weeks and i have a feeling that they will be a bit bored without them around. Boaz is a laid back, easy going little guy and Ava is spunky and knows what she wants out of life. It was kind of interesting, Ava and Jonathan had a few more go arounds than the others but they also connect more than the rest. At one point Ava sadly left me know that Jonathan called her a greedy woman, and of course Jonathan felt he had all the reason in the world to make that claim. I couldn't help but laugh behind their backs, altho Jonathan has never heard his daddy call me a greedy woman so i'm not sure where that came from. 

When i look at the ratios of girls versus boys around here i can't help but think we need more females. However, i have a funny, strong inner feeling that i'm carrying another boy. I'm fine with that. :)

Pray for Charltons as they head back to their part of Africa today. They have been in Kenya less than a year and adjusting to a new baby without all the comforts of America and nearby family can be a real challenge. I would love to be able to send Emily home with them for a couple of months but at 13, she needs to stay a bit closer to home for a while yet. The time is coming way too quickly when we will release her to whatever calling God has on her life.

I am halfway through this pregnancy, and all things considered i feel ok. I've struggled with a lot of exhaustion and fatigue but i suspect some of it is due to extreme dust. There is road work being done close to here so there are lots of big trucks and taxis driving behind our house on the dirt road, and since it's very dry the dust is terrible. It tests my patience when i do the cleaning and within hours the floors and windows are covered in dust. You can literally taste the dust in your mouth in the back of the house, near the road. Trying not to think what it's doing to our lungs but i keep telling myself that the Bible means it when it says to be thankful in all things. I haven't decided if that verse means we need to actually thank Him for the dust or just thank Him for what we're learning because of the dust.

   I will leave you with a picture that helps the thankful attitude. I'm not one that just thrills at looking through pictures that other people have taken of nature, but this one make me happy. Eric took it one evening down by Lake Victoria. He bought Marlin's camera when Marlin upgraded for all the orphan pics he takes and is having a lot of fun snapping and editing. Looking at those vibrant colors makes me think of earth and heaven......the darkness of life with that glorious light of Jesus Christ shining through.

  This week a year ago we were waiting for our Hadassah's birth. She's now waiting behind those clouds and that thought fills our hearts with peace in spite of the tears hiding behind our eyes. Friday is her birthday and for all those of you who have sent us emails, thank you! It means so much when people remember her and let us know they are thinking of us and praying for us. No doubt about it, the birthday of a child who died is a hard time. This birthday, we'll be picking up some close friends from the airport and i can't help but think that God has such good timing. Even a year later, He's still watching out and knowing our ache and using dear people in our lives to show us His love.

 He's such a loving, tender, Heavenly Papa.

  It's been quite the week.

  Make that life.

  Tuesday evening Levi was playing on top of the swing set and what do you know, he fell off.

  The top.

  This was the result.

 We spent 4 hours at the hospital getting X-rays and then the plaster. It's a wrist fracture and the cast MAY NOT GET WET! Yeah, right.

  For some reason today he's a bit short tempered and i feel like a truck ran over me. It was exhausting to spend half the night before comforting him and then sitting, sitting, sitting in the same hospital that we sat and sat and sat with Hadassah. By today i want to hide somewhere far, far away but no, there's laundry to wash, food to cook, and a little boy to comfort and rock. He's not in a lot of pain anymore and it's only a two week cast so we have a LOT to be thankful for.

 And what do you know but that it was Jacob's birthday. So after the hospital visit we picked up a gift for Jacob and headed home to where Emily had baked a cake and was babysitting the 3 remaining littles plus two others. She is an amazing young lady and her maturity is way beyond what mine was at her age. But that's what happens when you are the only girl in a family of boys.

Happy 5th birthday, Jacob!!! 

There's a family joke about Jacob and his "fake snakes," so of course we had to make a fake snake cake. Emily baked the cake and her and the boys had great fun decorating it. And I? I took a nap. 

His precious birthday candle that promptly broke when he tried to wash the icing off. Poor little man.

One of his goofy grins.....we get such a kick out of his expressions. 

Not every 5 year old boy gets his own Landrover for his birthday. He was greatly pleased but i think even Eric was a bit jealous.

   Jacob brings so much joy and laughter to our home. Him and Levi are best of friends and where one is you'll find the other. One of his nicknames is "fuzzy" because of his hair constantly standing on end.

   There's no way around it. We love this guy!

  So many things to write about.....so little time.

  I'm going to start with Marlin's big 4-0!!

 We're getting old, people! I well remember my dad turning 40 and i thot he might as well lay down and die. I mean, what worth is life when you're 40? And here we are and i wouldn't trade 40 for 20 any day.

 I planned, along with a few other sneaky people in the compound, a big 40th birthday party on the day of his birthday. I didn't actually think we would be able to pull off the surprise factor but we did. I had Becky, one of the missionary women who does beautiful cake decorating, make a small cake for lunch to throw him off. She also decorated a big cake for the bday party that evening. The small cake worked and it never even crossed his mind that there might be a party instead of a simple supper invite to Tony and Judith's. We walked in at Tony's to the whole compound singing Happy Birthday.

  Yup, we caught him by surprise. The poor littles were a bit confused to walk into a whole crowd of people singing and laughing, hence the reason Jacob is clinging to my hand.

    .....happy birthday to  you.....just so happened that there were two other birthdays that same day so we sang also sang happy birthday to them and to Zac, whose birthday was two days later.

I think he's trying to make it look like MY birthday, but i can assure you, i am still in my thirties. ;) And as usual we have one child digging in the area of his nostrils and poor Jacob looks like he's taking his daddy's old age harder than Marlin himself. 

The cute little toilet paper man made by Tony and Judith, filled with 40 different little gifts. Everyone was supposed to bring 40 things of "something small." People got creative. 

This one was filled with all kinds of useful things like pampers for incontinence.....well suited to a man like mine. ;) 

And we can't forget the food. Judith went out of her way to help me. She did the decorating and made the lattes, (three different kinds). I made the chicken salad sandwiches and another friend, Marji, made the popcorn and chip mix. Thank you friends!! It was a success!