My ramblings

A while back I listened to a child’s heart stop beating. I’ve listened to kids who were already dead to make sure in fact that there was no heart beat. I’ve never, however, listened to the process of the heart stopping. But I did yesterday. It made me all hot and uncomfortable. Brett had to run home and get his computer and I ran out to the car because I didn’t want to be left there. I didn’t know the family. They had just been brought in from the government center with a typhoid perforation. He had had typhoid which often can cause a hole in the intestines, which is what had happened. Dan, Brett, Jess and Jake were there until 10 pm the night he came in for his surgery. However, the child had other problems in his lungs as well when he arrived. Brett had spent the morning bagging him thinking that he would die but he waited until the afternoon when I “got” to listen. It’s just weird being with someone as they die, especially when you don’t know them at all.

Later that night we sat down and started watching tv. There was a show on about these Great White sharks that love to attack seals by jumping out of the water in this one certain area of the shore of South Africa. As I watched it, I kept thinking, these people have way too much money. As interesting as this is shouldn't we be using our money to save human lives instead of figuring out why sharks like the jump in the air to attack here? Now, I fully recognize that I was watching the show which means a couple of things- one, it was in fact interesting. Two, I was watching it on our satellite tv. So I completely and fully admit that there is an extreme difference between us and the people we live around.

I've never been one to feel guilty for being an American or being born into a wealthy country. I believe in Acts 17 where God determined the times set for us and the exact places where we should live. He did this so that men would seek Him and perhaps reach out and find Him. So I am in no way advocating asceticism but I think it is a shame that we (and by we I mean first world countries that have wealth) spend more time and money on studying sharks or random other things rather than on PEOPLE who are dying. I think there is enough money in the world to live comfortably while doing research on the animals of the world AND building up a continent that is so far behind the others. We still have 1 out of 4 (or 5) kids not living until they are 5 years old! The mother of the child who died didn’t even cry. She just took it. That shouldn’t be acceptable!

We need more money in research for getting a malaria vaccine. Money for educating women. How do you expect a woman who has never even gone to school and has every decision made for her to raise a child into adulthood? No wonder kids die when the mother is not educated enough to know when a child is sick or not. Or has never really learned the importance of watching her kids well enough that they don’t run out in the middle of the street or get to close to a fire. A child can’t raise a child. Women need education. In order for women to be educated, there must be a change in society. They can’t just live day to day but they need to have enough resources that they can provide for themselves without having to pound their grain everyday and spend hours cooking over a fire. That’s why girls can’t go to school. They are needed at home to work.

So though I recognize this as a HUGE problem and don’t really have answers to the problems, I just felt the need to say it. I was overwhelmed this past time in the States by the abundance of wealth. We've got way too much when I sit around a table and listen to people talk about giving their dogs anxiety medicines or having this or that surgery or whatever and people are dying over here because they can’t get that kind of treatment. Again, not saying we should live without, for heaven’s sake we just brought a dog back, but I just think there needs to be a shift in our thinking to realize that there is a world outside of the US, with people who are hurting and dying from lack of simple health care.

My ramblings

I was reading a friend's blog the other day who lives in Japan. She has two little boys and a girl on the way. She was talking about the frustrations she was feeling. I ended up writing her some of my thoughts and since I've been thinking a lot about these things I thought I'd post them.

One thing I have learned as a
mom, especially one that lives overseas, is that I have to give grace.
Give grace to everyone, but most importantly, to yourself. I put way
too much expectation on myself and what I want my family to look like.
Maybe if I were in the perfect world, I could
achieve this (though I doubt it) but with little kids overseas it is just impossible.
There are too many variables that you cannot control. You have to give
grace. So what if I wanted my kids to watch only a little tv- I'm in a
third world country with nowhere to go except a pool (but how many
times can you go to the pool?) they don't have friends who speak
English (except Hannah but somehow we don't get to see her enough), my husband is working often until 7 pm. They are going to
watch tv. And a lot of it. Though some consider tv bad for kids, it
isn't harmful to them and they actually learn as well! They can still
grow up and be respectful God-fearing men even with a hefty amount of
tv under their belt. As long as it is pure and good shows I don't see
anything Biblically wrong with tv. I would also argue that at some
points, when I'm at my wits end, it is better for them to watch tv and
let me take a moment rather than me yelling at them like a crazy
person. Not to just be an advocate for tv, I'm saying that in many
areas, there is grace to be had. I want my kids at the table for meals
but trying to keep three boys 5 and under (but we are talking since it
was 3 and under) at a table while Brett is still at work is crazy. And
for dinner, I just don't push it. Again, does sitting at a table make
them better men? I don't think so. So I've learned to let go. Same for my house. I want
it clean. I want everything in order but it just isn't happening.
There is lots of life going on here and it shows. Do I want my kids to
learn responsibility and cleanliness, of course. But does that mean my
house has to be spotless? Nope. I must give myself grace.

Three kids under five is tough and though I'm still
in the thick of it, I am finally starting to see the light at the end
of the tunnel. Things are getting easier. They all
are playing together. Two of the three can do most things for
themselves. No more diapers. It is getting easier. Last year or so I
hung up Ecc 3 on my wall. There is a time for everything and a season
for every activity. This season is a season of little kids. But it is
just a season. I want to be out talking with my neighbors and
practicing language but after a morning at the hospital the rest of
the time is for my kids. Most days I'm ok with this. I do have to
remind myself that I can't be like others who are single or childless.
They have more freedom. My highest calling is to my family. I have to
embrace that.

Added to just the season of small kids, you have a third culture to
deal with. That adds so much more than I think we often acknowledge.
Even if the culture itself is ok, you are still living apart from
family and those who could step in and offer a hand. You don't have
all the things in the US that would make life easier. You can just go
to your neighbor and have a cup of coffee without difficulties. It's
hard. Recently I've been struggling a lot with this. Just feeling like
a failure in all things. As my role of a mom. In my language ability.
In my work at the hospital. I just feel like I'm always failing and
not doing what I want. I've been reminded of several things and the
Lord has been giving me grace in it all. 1- This is not a race. I
don't have to have my life all together at this moment. If it were
perfect, what need would I have of a Savior and heaven? This is a journey
toward sanctification, a journey toward language acquisition, a
journey toward medical proficiency. It's a journey, not a race. I
don't need to be perfect today.
2-As we all know, it is in our weakness that He is strong. Why do I
then look at my weakness and failures as a bad thing? This is when
Christ is perfected in me, when His glory shines brighter. I need to
embrace this and not seek to have it all together.

Verses that have been an encouragement to me in this time are Hosea
6:3 "So let us know, let us press on to know the LORD. His going forth
is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like the rain, Like
the spring rain watering the earth." Maybe because we are in dry and
hot season here in Mali, but the spring rain just sounds so amazing.
So refreshing. So uplifting. This comes just after the verses that
say He has torn us to pieces but He will restore us. He will bandage
our wounds. Like a hard rain on the dry soil which cannot take it all
in, He will come and replenish us to overflowing. He will restore us. I just find
that beautiful.

Another verse is Joshua 1:8-9 "Do not let this Book of the Law depart
from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be
careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous
and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous.
Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will
be with you wherever you go.”
So I need to be in His word so that I can be successful- not
successful in my eyes by what I think I should do or what my family should look like, but successful in
His eyes because of my attitude and my desire to serve Him and my
family. I also loved the "do not be discouraged" I guess because I have been discouraged lately. He is with me. He has called me here even
though He knew my language abilities were poor and I would have small
kids here. He knew this. He knew I would be over my head. But He
called me here knowing full well that He was going to stay right there
beside me. He is walking this road with me. I need not be discouraged.

I would like to say that these lessons have permeated my brain
completely and I don't struggle with this but it's just not the case.
I am right in the thick of it. Fighting everyday to not give over to
discouragement. But the Lord is faithful. He is good.

Hosea by Shane and Shane

Come let us return
He has torn us into pieces
He has injured us
Come let us return to the Lord
He will heal us
He will bandage our wounds
In just a short time He'll restore us
In just a short time He'll restore His church
So we might live
We might live in His presence
In His presence
Oh that we might know the Lord
Oh that we might know the Lord
Oh that we might know the Lord
Let us press on to know Him
Let us press hard into Him
Then as surely as the coming of the dawn
He will respond

It hurts more when you know their names

We all know that way too many kids die in Africa. 1 in 4 (moving toward 1 in 5) children don’t live to the age of 5. We see death all the time. I couldn’t tell you how many deaths I’ve watched since I started working at the hospital. Normally, these are sad but they don’t change the day. We can’t grieve the loss of each child as terrible as that sounds because if we did, that would be all we would do. Often these kids come in and are close to death, they don’t stay long, often we couldn’t even tell you their names. But there are some cases that come and they stay at the hospital awhile, we know them, we know their families, they touch our lives. When they die, it hurts. The last month has hurt. We’ve lost 4 kids that were very special. We lost two this week. I can think of two kids dying in my childhood. Maybe there were more but I remember two kids that died of cancer. We had two die of cancer THIS WEEK. So in hopes to process all this a bit more, I want to share about the kids we’ve lost.

Mariam.

She came to us after having been sick for years. Yes, years. She was wasted away and having trouble breathing. We quickly diagnosed tuberculosis which she got from her grandfather who had had it and died three years prior. Though she had been to doctors, no one diagnosed it. So the poor girl suffered for way too long. Finally, since she had family members who worked at our hospital, she came to us. We treated the TB and relatively quickly she had negative smears but she had extensive lung damage which was taking a long time to heal. She spent three months in our hospital, most often on two oxygen machines. Eventually she started getting better and could even walk around the entire hospital with an oxygen machine with battery backup. She was down to only one oxygen machine. Then, she just started doing worse again. And worse. She couldn’t make it 20 feet without having to stop and take a breath. Still, I thought there was hope. With time, she would get better. Then we had to go to Bamako for a conference in October. We got a call while there that she died. It was hard to not be there when she passed. She had been come a part of our daily life. Even Dawson had come up for a couple Sundays and walked with her around the hospital. But we take it and try to move on. Unfortunately we move on to more death.

Founé. (sorry no picture)

We got back from Bamako and our week at Field Forum in Sikasso. One of the HIV ladies I work with came because one of her babies was sick. She had triplets. We had worked with her a lot because she couldn’t feed three babies. We gave formula to one of the babies all year. We saw them regularly. So when Barakissa (mom) came with her sick child, I looked for all three little girls. I saw Awa, she has the most hair, but is smaller. I saw Wasa on her mom’s back, she’s got a wider face and the one we who drank formula. I asked where Founé was. Barakissa simply said with a smile, “A bana.” She’s dead. Just like that, plain and simple. She’s dead. What?? Did I hear her correctly? We went and talked with a nurse to make sure we understood and to find out what happened. Apparently, she got sick with fever (maybe malaria). She was admitted to the government hospital. She was treated then came to our hospital…while we were in Bamako. The nurse talked to her and I guess, from my understanding, told her that if she was sick that she should go back to the government hospital since she didn’t have money and the care is free there (while Doctors without Borders is here). Now I don’t know why exactly she was sent away and I’m not saying at all that we are the saviors and had she stayed at our hospital she would have lived, but I do think it was an opportunity missed. I for sure would have paid the bill had I known she was sick. It kills me that we weren’t here and that she went back to the government hospital. Even if she had to die, I wish it had been at our hospital. I found myself that week being snippy to the boys, upset at this and that, silly things that happened. Finally I realized it wasn’t those things at all but rather my sadness over the loss of Founé. I know I shouldn’t but when you give formula to a family, you kind of start to take stock in the kid (and in this case all three). Just like with our friend, Sali. When we gave her twins formula and you kind of feel like they are family and you want to see them grow up. Then Sali’s son died right after returning to the village. So I should know that giving formula doesn’t save lives, nor do we have any more control over their well being. It’s sad when they die. It’s sad when you invest so much and then they so quickly die.

Rokia.

Rokia came to our hospital at the beginning of the year. She had a huge mass that was protruding out of her stomach. It took us awhile to figure out it was cancer. We started treatment and the cancer went away. During her stay, her father accepted the Lord. Since then he has returned to his village of birth and told others about Christ. He even came and asked for Bibles so that he could give them away since no one in the village had a Bible. Unfortunately, Rokia’s cancer returned. When she came back a little over a month ago, her belly was huge. I don’t know how she could stand it. We tried chemo again and it didn’t shrink. Dan, our OB, took out the tumors last week just to give her some relief, as it was greatly needed.

She was doing fine until Monday she started running a fever. Brett told the nurses to give Ceftriaxone. It was forgotten all day and then that evening she died. Now, we aren’t sure if it was infection or just some other cause. Regardless, it was sad. Brett took the family home that night and sat with them for awhile. So sad. Her case is a little easier to deal with because she had failed chemo. We knew she was going to die at some point, it was just sad to see her go. Thankful also that her parents heard the good news and chose to follow the Lord. Still, it is hard to know she is gone.

Aboubacar.

The next morning after Rokia’s death, I went to see Aboubacar and his mom, Awa. She was scared to death after having watched Rokia die. We assured her that Rokia’s cancer and Aboubacar’s were not the same. After all, Aboubacar had responded beautifully to his treatment for the T cell lymphoma in his chest. I had spent several mornings with Aboubacar and his mom. We talked about how hard it was to watch your child be sick. She commented on how she wished it was her instead of him. She wanted to suffer in his place. Though this would be a common thought in America, I’ve never heard this before from a Malian (well, she’s Burkinabe but close enough). Her love for her son was beautiful to see. I would come into the room in the mornings and find them sleeping together, his little body wrapped in hers. Or other times they would lay face to face with his head resting on her arm. If she turned away, he would grab her face and pull it to his. It reminded me so much of Kenan as he does the same thing at night when I lay with him. He loved his mommy and she loved him. I think that’s what drew me to her. I could see her pain and understand her thoughts as a mother. I told her how I myself would start to fear for my own children, just being around Aboubacar and seeing him suffer. Afraid my kids would have cancer. And that’s just a silly fear. Her fear was real. She was afraid for her son. She wanted to relieve his pain. There were some days more than others that she was really burdened and fatigued by these thoughts. I could see it in her eyes and the way she would look at him before she walked out of the room. Those days I would just go and sit with her. Sometimes I would pray and sometimes I would just sit, not understanding her pain but understanding another heart of a mom. As the days went on, Brett gave me jobs with Aboubacar. The last few days he was “my patient” and though I couldn’t do all the things he needed, I was supposed to be keeping a good eye on him and making sure his needs were taken care of. Monday and Tuesday were bad days for him. He was dehydrated and didn’t have much life. He turned a corner on Wednesday and Thursday. I was so happy as he fought me as I put the oxygen monitor on his foot. He didn’t want it so he would push it off with his other foot. I finally had to wrap his feet in bandages so that he couldn’t get the monitor off. This thrilled me. It meant he was doing better. He had some fight in him. It was Wednesday when he was sitting up, leaning on his dad and his dad asked if he could leave and go to work. Aboubacar said no. He grabbed his dad’s hand and held it tight. He wanted him to stay. And he did. He ended up needing oxygen on Thursday and by Friday morning his oxygen saturation was in the 80s (should be 95-100). He didn’t look as good. He looked weaker. We made all sorts of changes to his medications and fluid intake. Around 11 am, we decided we needed to fix his IV since it wasn’t working and that’s how he received a lot of his meds. As a nurse came and did it, I watched Aboubacar let him have his hand. Only once did he slightly pull back. The rest of the time he let him do it. He was losing life. I walked out and went to the office, anxious to get my mind off of him. Brett walked in and I told him, “Aboubacar is going to die.” He kind of got mad at me, mostly because I was saying this without any solution to the problem and without any physical findings to support it. But it ends up I was right, I just had no idea the end was so soon. At 4pm, Brett got the call that they were bagging him. We rushed out the door. He was dead by the time we got there. They were just stopping everything. I sat down and immediately started crying. And crying hard. This would be normal in the States, but not here. You aren’t supposed to show emotion, after all, it’s Allah’s will. But I couldn’t help it. As I watched Awa look at her son and bawl, I couldn’t help but hold back my tears. It hurt deep down. It still hurts. Soon after a mother of another patient came in and started her speech of it’s Allah’s will, you shouldn’t cry, it’s ok that he is gone, etc etc. Some random person always comes in to say the same kind of thing when a mom is crying over her child. I wanted to punch the lady in the face. Awa should cry! He shouldn’t have died! He was only three! Just like my Kenan. He was too young too die! A few minutes later our own nurses said we needed to take the body because otherwise Awa would keep crying. Again, I thought this was crazy but we gave into their culture, since after all, we are in their culture.. Soon after this, we took the family home. Awa and her mother-in-law went into the house and started to cry. Brett commented that he thought it was interesting that they had stopped crying but both started as soon as they got home. To me, it made perfect sense. They were home, where Aboubacar was supposed to be. Where he played, where they did everything together. Now they were there without him. Aichata, Aboubacar’s dad, asked Brett to go get the body with him (so he could be in a vehicle). I stayed in the courtyard for him. No one really talked except greetings. I was amazed at the ease in which preparations were being made. All the women had jobs, they were getting this and that. Now I’ve experienced enough family deaths to know there is this weird since of calmness that does occur when you must get things done. This was different though. It was just too easy. To me, time was standing still. This was huge. Aboubacar was dead. And though a few tears aside from the parents were shed, it wasn’t a lot. Everyone did what they needed to do for a funeral of a child. They do this all the time. Kids die all the time. Malians are always burying their children. It shouldn’t be this easy. Brett finally came back with Aichata and the body. We decided it was time for us to go as they would soon bury him. We said our goodbyes, I told Awa I wanted to see her again, we hugged and cried a little more (even though it wasn’t culturally appropriate), and then Brett and I left. We came home and all I wanted to do was hug my children. Thankful for their lives. We got an email from the oncologists who has been helping Brett with all the cancer patients. His name is Alan Anderson, a friend of Brett’s from residency. What a gift to have a pediatric oncologist to get protocols from and to ask questions. He has been a tremendous blessing in all of the work with the cancer kids. Well, he wrote and mentioned that maybe Aboubacar had PCP, a type of pneumonia that only immunocompromised people get. Brett started reading about it and realized that 80% of people in Africa have it in their lungs. You only see it when their immune system is so depressed, like in AIDS usually, or in cancer patients. He had been on prevention meds off and on. Three weeks ago he came in with a cough. We thought it was just a cold. We thought his weight loss was the chemo. We thought the lower oxygen saturations were from the left over tumor or some infection he had caught in the hospital. His lungs were clear- up until a few hours before he died. But now we know. It was PCP, an easily treatable illness. He just needed Bactrim- one medication- and he would have been healed. It wasn’t the cancer or the chemo that was killing him. If only we had known. If only we had caught it a little sooner. So , so sad to realize. Poor Brett carries this weight much more than I do as he feels responsible for all that goes on. But he isn’t an oncologist. He can’t know everything a three year trained person knows just from getting protocols from a friend. That doesn’t really help though when the precious life is lost.

So here we are now trying to muddle our way through the last few weeks and the heartache we have felt. Brett has come back from our furlough trying to live out 1 Thes 5:16-18, we even have it as wall art in the office. Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances. So what do we give thanks for in this? Thankful that Mariam knew the Lord and is now with her Savior. Thankful that her father who had an extensive foot wound and was never able to see her while she was in the hospital is now here in Koutiala and had a skin graft and hopefully will be able to work again soon. Thankful that Rokia’s parents heard of the love of Christ and chose to follow Him. Thankful that Founé’s sisters are still living. Thankful that now we’ll know to look for PCP and hopefully no one else will die because of it. Thankful to have met Aboubacar’s mom and hopefully will get to have a lasting relationship with her. Thankful for each child that we have the opportunity to meet and interact with. Thankful to have known them and for the mark they left on each of our hearts.

A Pediatric ICU doctor came out for a visit while Mariam was here. On hearing of her death, he wrote these words…

Patients like that, who are around a long time and you get to know really well, hurt you badly when things go south. Even battle-hardened PICU staff have a hard time with it. Mariam should have died a long time ago, but thanks to your efforts, she was able to be around people who loved the Lord, loved her, and showed her she mattered. Whether it's for a day or 90 years, that's really all any of us can hope for.

I think that’s fitting for all of them. Though they died at our hospital, at least they were loved and cared for in their last days. It is a privilege to be able to do that, even though it hurts.

I’ve been singing this song by Third Day a lot the last few days and it just seems fitting to end with it.

Jesus, Light of the World
Shine through the darkness
Bright as the day
Jesus, Light of the World
Shine in our hearts
Show us the way tonight

Who is this child in a manger?
Kings bow down and angels sing
The Lord of the Universe
Has come here to save us
A precious Offering
All the heavens above and the earth below
Are filled with the light of Your love

Jesus, Light of the World
Shine through the darkness
Bright as the day
Jesus, Light of the World
Shine in our hearts
Show us the way tonight

Hard lessons to learn

we have just gotten the ability to do HIV tests early for the babies
of mother's who are positive. We've done several lately and just got
the results back this week. One was positive. My heart sank. It sank
even more when I heard the name. It was the child of a lady who has
been positive for several years. Her husband was a doctor and as he
was dying, he told her that he was positive and had been for awhile.
He never told her before or did anything to protect her. So she tested
positive. She was actually able to marry again and her new husband is
amazingly gracious with the illness. He wants her to be treated. He
himself is not positive. When they had their first child together, the
father had a job. She never breastfed the child. He is negative. They
had the second child, Samba. She always asked me for formula. I told
her that I thought she would be fine. She had been on medicine for
years, her husband was negative, so to me, that meant she had a low
viral load and her risk of giving it to her son was low. According to
Mali protocol, women are to breastfeed for 6 months then abruptly
stop. This is hard for several reasons. It is known that women stop
breastfeeding at 6 months when they are positive. So people don't want
to do it. Also, formula is expensive. They can't buy it. We try to
give them a special recipe of a cereal type thing that has a lot of
nutrition but a lot of kids won't eat it. I helped several women with
formula but thought at the time that it was not a doable thing to give
out formula to all my HIV ladies. Now, I'm just not sure that that is
a good excuse. It's probably about $300 dollars for each woman for 6
months of formula. Yes, this is expensive, especially in Mali, but I
think it's worth it. I can't help but think that it was because I was
unwilling to give her formula that her child is now positive. She put
her trust in me that I was telling her the best thing to do. Now, no
other woman who has breastfed has yet to pass it to her child, but it
just makes me wonder. Maybe she passed the illness during labor and
delivery. We'll never know. We didn't have the test to do early on and
know at about 6 weeks of life whether he was positive or not. So now I
have to face this mother and tell her her child is positive. I just
cried at the thought of having to talk to her, to look her in the
eyes. It turned out she had to go to Bamako for a funeral and was
unable to come see me the morning I wanted to talk to her. Her husband
came instead. He took it better than she would have. I won't be able
to talk to her until a week from now. When I talked to the Pastor that
I work with, he assured me that I shouldn't feel guilty. I had done
all I could do. Things happen. I guess the problem lies that I'm not
convinced I did my best, that I did all I could do. There came a time
when I chose not to give formula to every lady and it started around
the time she needed it. Now, maybe this choice was wise at the time,
or maybe it was just selfish. I think maybe a little of both. I
remember being overwhelmed by the needs of all the ladies and the
financial burden that it was. Now I have to deal with that in the
light of a positive child. Money shouldn't be a limiting factor.
Something has to change. Even if this is all a lesson for me- to
consider the life at stake even when I'm tired and overwhelmed. To see
the necessity of getting formula to each of my ladies, no matter what
the cost. I don't know. I'm saddened by the case and pray that this
doesn't have to happen again, though I know in reality it will.

Sad day

I don't remember the days of the week, let alone the date here in Mali. But this morning, I walked outside with Silas and felt the cooler air. It's finally cooling down here (still 90s or higher in the day, but the night is cooler). The cool air hit me with the sudden reality that today was November 7th. Today marks one year without John, my uncle. It's a sad day. We all still miss him. I still have his picture in my Bible, not quite ready to put it in a place where I don't see it as often. Still unfathomable that he is gone. No more of his laugh, his competitive spirit, his genuine love and excitement about everything, his servant's heart and his love for His Father.

I am thankful today to have known John, to be a part of his family. I am thankful for all the fun times we had with him and for all the times he made us laugh. I am thankful to have watched him always be willing to serve others. I am thankful for the many prayers I heard him pray. I am thankful to have seen a beautiful marriage- where the two were inseparable. They had a wonderful friendship and always enjoyed each other. Even though I think his time here on earth was cut too short, I am thankful for the time we did have with him. I am thankful the Lord is in control, that He knows all things and that His plans are good, even though we don't always understand them. Praying for my aunt and cousins today that they would know His peace that passes all understanding.

This week

I came outside the other day and the three were sitting like this talking and eating popcorn. I wish I could have caught them talking. It was cute to see them hanging out and talking like big boys.

There are tons of praying mantises around now. Kenan is holding his eye because the mantis was walking all over him, including his face, and walked on/beside/too near to his eye.

It's on his head.

These aren't actually from this week, but I wanted to post them. Playing in the sprinkler.

I just liked the lighting.

So this week:

I cut my hand with a knife. Really, I jabbed the knife into my hand in the area between my thumb and pointer finger. This has caused me to be one handed this week. Never knew how much I used my left hand. Can’t open sippy cups, fill up waters, put on diapers, take a shower and many other things without pain and difficulty. Hopefully it will heal soon.

Dawson finished his first week of school. I think it went well. He seemed to enjoy it. I wouldn’t know since he won’t tell me what he does. J I definitely have boys. We have had the issues of restarting school, though. He’s been a little more moody, tired, and a bit difficult. As Brett says, he has to be good at school, so he does it as long as he can and then he has to let loose at home. I was a bit surprised at how him starting school made me feel. As I drove away one day I was struck that this was the start of his schooling experience. He’s in the class alone and unless more people come, he will always be. The next closest in age will be Kenan. I had the thought of feeling bad for him because he won’t have a “real” experience at school. I’ve thought of this before, but now that he had actually started, the thought was more difficult for me to handle. I had to remind myself that this will be all he will ever know and it will be his “real” school. He won’t be deprived by being there. I’m not neglecting him. It’s just different, not bad. I think his experience is really dependent on my attitude toward it. Do I think it’s good? Do I act like it is a fun place and a great experience? Actually, I think the boys are pretty lucky. I mean, they get to live in a different culture and experience many different things while still getting many of the comforts of America. They aren’t missing out on much at all really. Family and maybe some more kid interaction, but they do have each other. They get to grow up learning different languages and seeing a life different than theirs. Like yesterday, D went up to the hospital with Brett to see a girl who has been there for 2 months with Tuberculosis and heart failure. They’ve played with burn kids at the hospital and other kids. I think it’s good for them. They get to meet the kids their daddy helps. That’s a special experience for them.

Kenan has also had to deal with D at school. Three days this means he has room time alone because D has school in the afternoon. It has not gone well. He enjoys his brother. They act like they don’t like room time but I think they do. I think they really have fun together. So we’re trying to get K used to playing without D.

Silas has been potty training and actually done really well. We’ve been doing a little here and there but last Saturday I tried to be more intentional about it. The last three days he runs over and tells me when he has to go pee pee, even if he is wearing a diaper. We’ve only had two accidents which were both while he was outside playing so I guess he was distracted. I’m feeling good that the years of diapers may soon be over. I must say that there is nothing cuter than a little chubby bum bum in underwear. I’ve put in an order for his bed so maybe once that is done (in a few months) we will tackle sleeping in a big boy bed.

This week I’ve also wanted to reread “So Long Insecurity,” “Don’t make me count to three,” “The heart of Anger” and “Youniquely Woman.” I’ve felt like a failure in so many things. I often feel like I’m not training my kids as I should, that they aren’t as well behaved as they should and many other things. I hate seeing the sin of anger in them since I know it comes straight from me. I pray so often that the Lord would heal me of it before the boys are old enough to remember me as a mom who is quick to anger. I do see improvements, praise the Lord, but there is much left to do. I am also annoyed how I see insecurity plague so many areas of my life. I didn’t consider myself an insecure person 5 years ago but I am now. It was great reading the book by Beth Moore this summer. Really opened my eyes to how much I let insecurity rule me. Comments people make that have nothing to do with me can change my behavior or make me feel insecure about what I do. Or thinking about what I wear so that the 11 yo and 13 yo who have to ride in my car to school will think I’m cool. I’m almost too embarrassed to write that. It’s silly and I don’t like it. I want to be free of it. I’ve just been burdened this week by my failures. I’ve been listening a lot to Chris Tomlin. Two songs speak how I feel. One line is “You know the depths of my heart and you love me the same. You are amazing God.” That does amaze me. He knows me completely, my failures, my insecurity, my anger and He loves me still. Another song is “Your grace is enough for me.” Praise the Lord for His grace. His grace that set me free to live with him and the grace that sets me free each day. The grace, that if I surrender to him, He gives freely. When I lay my failures at His feet He can turn those to triumphs. For His glory, not mine.

Makes me think of my reading in Streams in the Desert, September 12.

A man talks of a prayer he once heard at a prayer meeting…

“Lord, support us! Yes, support us on every leaning side!” … This humble man’s prayer pictured them in a new way and illustrated the Great Supporter in a new light, as well. He saw God as always walking alongside the Christian, ready to extend His mighty arm to steady the weak on “every leaning side.”

Child of My love, lean hard,

And let Me feel the pressure of your care;

I know your burden, child. I shaped it;

Balanced it in Mine Own hand; made no proportion

In its weight to your unaided strength,

For even as I laid it on, I said,

“I will be near, and while she leans on Me,

This burden will be Mine, not hers;

So will I keep My child within the circling arms

Of My Own love.” Here lay it down, not fear

To impose it on a shoulder that upholds

The government of worlds. Yet closer come:

You are not near enough. I would embrace your care;

So I might feel My child reclining on My breast.

You love Me, I know. So then do not doubt;

But loving Me, lean hard.

That’s what I want to do, lay my failures and weaknesses at His feet and lean on His everlasting arms.

Hello!

I've been thinking of making my blog private for awhile. In researching it, I realized that even if I made my old blog private, one could still find it through google from old posts that weren't marked as private. So I was kind of in a holding pattern until recently there have been some threats towards Westerners. We are not concerned at this moment, but I thought that now would be a good time to change my blog. So now it's private. Now it no longer has our name in the title.

All who read my blog regularly know that fear is something I constantly struggle with. Receiving emails about threats to Westerners close to where you live can cause fear to arise. And it did. It was a terrible day or so where I was just fearful. The adrenaline, on edge kind of fear. I decided that I couldn't live like that. I had a long tearful, prayerful talk with my dear Father and He gave me great peace. As I was looking up verses on fear, I was struck on how many talk about fearing the Lord. That's who I need to fear, not threats of things. Matthew 10:28 "Do not be afraid of those who can kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell." He also impressed on me Psalm 91. The need to rest in the Shadow of the Almighty, to take refuge under His wings. Since "Shadow of the Almighty" and "Under His wings" were already taken, I chose Refuge Under His Wings for the blog title. I am changing my blog, sure. But I'm not doing it out of fear. Just trying to be responsible with what has been told to us. Anyway, I'll leave you with more of Psalm 91. And just a clarification, it talks about no harm coming near you and being kept safe. I am fully aware that this means that when I am in His hands, nothing can touch my relationship with Him. Despite what happens to my physical body, I am safe in His arms. So no I don't think this means I will always be safe. I just think I must seek to find my rest, my refuge, my security in His hands, not my own and what I may think is best.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."

Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.

A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.

You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you make the Most High your dwelling—
even the LORD, who is my refuge-

then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

"Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation."

The problem of fear

So this morning I read on facebook that one of our missionary friends, Mary, found and caught (with the help of Malians) a mamba snake. This is a 2-3 meter snake. Venomous, thus, dangerous. This was on our mission property where we go all the time and the kids play. This is how my thought process went this morning.

When I saw the note: “Oh, Mary found a snake. Wow.”

When I got to work and saw Jake and Jessica hiding the fact that they were talking about the snake, I said, “No, I’m better about this now. God has taught me a lot about fear.” I meant it. He has. Psalm 16:5 has been huge to me “Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup.” It’s in His hands.

Then I went down to our office and started looking up snakes. Reading about which ones were the worst and so forth. This is the season of snakes because the rain is here and people are plowing in the fields. Why I started reading about them, I don’t know. I knew it wasn’t good for me. Then I spent the next hour or so, thinking about that picture of the snake and just feeling fear creep into my body. It’s amazing to me how only moments earlier I was confident that life was in His hands and I didn’t need to worry.

Now I can remind myself of the many things that should make me feel better. Snakes are more often in the fields and far out places, not in town. This snake was really rare here. There is anti-venom for most of them. People have lived for years without snake bites. The only time I’ve ever come in contact with a dangerous animal was in West Virigina- when we hit a bear with the car. That wasn’t in Africa, that was America. Etc etc etc. But really, these are just words. They don’t get to the heart of the matter. The truth is that God is in control. My life and the life of my children are in His hands. Whatever He wills I trust will work out for the good. Not work for my happiness, comfort, ease of life, but for my good- what brings me to the foot of my Savior. I can look and say that the worst thing that could happen would be to lose Brett or the boys. I am confident that even then God will be with me. Yes it would be terrible and yucky and unbelievable, but God would be there. I can’t worry about what might happen. I can’t worry about tomorrow. Worry doesn’t change anything, it just makes me miserable. So as I did when I came home today and will have to do a gazillion times in the near future, I lay it down at the feet of Jesus. My family is in His hands. So yes I’m obviously not done with my lesson in fear but I thank God that He is making steps in me little by little.

Where you go I will go

Where you go I will go. Dawson said this to me the other day with childlike faith that he will go with me wherever I go. Even to Mali. He will go with me anywhere simply because I will be there. He trusts me and wants to be where I am.

I am amazed when I think of this. Oh to have such faith with the Lord. Yes, Lord, I’ll go wherever you lead simply because that is where You are and I want to be with You. That’s my biggest requirement. To be where You are.

I always seem to have the same conflicting emotions as we prepare to head back to Mali. On one hand, I’m glad and ready to get back into the normal routine of life, even if that is in Mali. On the other hand, I struggle with leaving the American life behind. Seeing the boys play with friends. Having to decide which park of the 5 within two miles to go to rather than having two choices in Mali- the pool and daddy’s work. The convenience of being able to pick up food for the boys when you are running late. Playgrounds in restaurants. The grocery stores with absolutely everything you could ever possibly need or want. The ability to run to that grocery store when you are out of something instead of just going without because the nearest grocery store is 5 hrs away. Having kid friendly snacks and food available.

But even more than the things we don’t get to have is just being away from family and friends. It hurts me the most when I think of my kids and what they are missing out on. Having a “normal” life. It’s hard to hear your three year old tell you that he doesn’t want to go to Mali because it’s “no fun dere.” He just wants to stay with Grandma. How do you respond to that? I know he is just talking but still that hurts my heart. I don’t want to jeopardize my children and their well being by being in Mali as I do believe that my first calling is to my family. I want my kids to love being there (and in general they do and when I asked Kenan today if he wanted to go back, he did say yes). I want my kids to love the people, to share in the ministry and see how important it is for THEM to be there, not just their parents. I have to remind myself that their “normal” is not the normal I grew up with, but that’s ok because it is their normal. They don’t know any different. Often as parents we want certain things for our kids because we feel it is important or needed when in reality it is just what we think is important because that’s how we were raised. But my boys are raised in Mali and that is their home. Before coming to the States on furlough, I would say things like, “in two weeks, we will be home with Grandma and Papa” and finally Dawson said, “Mommy, why do you keep calling Grandma’s home? Koutiala is our home.” You are right, Dawson. It is your home. I think so often I fear their adjustment and life overseas and it’s just my problem and fears, nothing based on facts. Koutiala is their home. And I think that at least Dawson has some understanding of why we are there.

So as I ponder going back to Mali, I am reminded of several things. We don’t deserve anything. We don’t deserve an easy life. It is not our right to have family around the corner or friends for our kids. It’s not our right to have easy access to stores and parks. We are sinful people. We deserve death. But God in His grace gave His son for us. Christ gave his life. I shouldn’t expect to give any less. Brett talked in churches this summer about joy verse happiness. We often seek happiness when we really should be seeking joy which is found in the Lord. We are in the best place when we are where the Lord wants us, even when it’s hard to go back. But it’s hard to leave any vacation and get back to reality. But we must. When we were in Omaha at Christ Community Church, I was overwhelmed by the blessing that we have to serve in Mali. What a gift that the Lord has given us. Yes it has been hard. It’s been the hardest three years of my life. But what a blessing to be able to serve there. I’m thankful that the Lord placed that call on our lives. It is an honor and privilege to serve there. I often think of Acts 17:26-27 “From one man he made every nation of men, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us”. God determines where we are to live. He does this so that men will seek him and reach out and find him. He knows where we are to be. I find peace in that. It goes along with Psalm 16:5 “Lord you have assigned me my portion and my cup, you have made my lot secure.” My life is in his hands. One church we were at had questions for the kids to answer and one asked why the MacLeans were in Mali. I asked D and at first he said, "I don't know" but a few minutes later he said, "Because God loves us." He's right. We go because God loves us and we want to share that love with others. Now I'm sure he didn't fully understand what he was saying, I guess he's just heard me say that before and that we need to love the Malians, but it was great to hear. Out of the mouth of my 5 year old comes truth. We go because God loves us.

Sorry for the randomness of my thoughts, but that’s how I feel I guess at this point. My sinful human nature tries to tell me lies that we life is too hard there or that it’s dangerous/harmful for my kids or whatever. Then I must constantly reflect on the things that I know are true. God is good. My times are in His hands. He has called me to Mali. That is the best place for me. I always find it interesting that when we do get ready to head back, I feel like everything I read or sing or hear in church is speaking to me and the need to go back. I must surrender, give my life, lay my kids on the altar and trust Him. I must say to the Lord as Dawson said to me, “where you will go, I will go.”

So as I close this post of my unorganized thoughts, here are two songs that I’ve been thinking a lot about.

“If you want me to” by Ginny Owens (only part of the song)

No I’m not who I was
When I took my first step
And I’m clinging to the promise You’re not through with me yet
So if all of these trials bring me closer to You
Then I will walk through the fire
If You want me to

It may not be the way I would have chosen
When You lead me through a world that’s not my home
But You never said it would be easy
You only said I’ll never go alone

So when the whole world turns against me
And I’m all by myself
And I can’t hear You answer my cries for help
I’ll remember the suffering Your love put You through
And I will go through the darkness
If You want me to

This next song has been played in so many churches we’ve been in while home and each time it brings me to tears. Our God is mighty to save. He is the hope of nations. He does take me- all my fears and failures and by his grace, uses me, if I am willing to give myself to Him. He is good.

“Mighty to Save” Hillsong

Everyone needs compassion,
Love that's never failing;
Let mercy fall on me.

Everyone needs forgiveness,
The kindness of a Saviour;
The Hope of nations.

Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.

Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

So take me as You find me,
All my fears and failures,
Fill my life again.

I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in,
Now I surrender.

My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

Shine your light and let the whole world see,
We're singing for the glory of the risen King...Jesus
My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

Something missing

We just returned from Holden Beach with my family (MacLeans, my parents, my sister and her family, and Aunt Trisha). It was a good week overall. It was the first time we all went to the beach since my uncle John died. We've been going to the beach with them for years. We all wondered how this week would go. Though we didn't sit around and have long conversations about John, we spoke of him often and thought of him even more. I know daily he was on my mind. There was definitely something- someone- missing this year. I find processing a death is hard when living overseas because you are used to not seeing the person and thus can trick yourself into thinking they are still around. You can't when you walk into their house and they aren't there. Or see his garden and know he is no longer there to take pictures of the vegetables' growth week by week. Or go to the beach like you always did with them and they not be there. So I felt the need to write a few things out that I thought of this week.

I missed his laugh. I missed watching Trisha laugh with him.

I missed him taking pictures of everything- the "castles" the kids made, the sand shark the boy caught who was fishing right where we were swimming, the jellyfish in the trash can, the sunsets, games, smiles, food, himself, whatever might have caught his eye. And if he took a picture of me- he'd come over and make sure I approved it for his blog since he had in the past posted terrible pictures of me which I told him he had to remove and he did. So from then on, he always checked with me.

I missed him asking us to play something- volleyball, or bocce, or frisbee, or badminton, or trivial pursuit (which I would NOT have played since I stink at it).

I missed watching him swim with Trisha in the late afternoons.

I missed watching him ride on the boogie board.

I missed his silly jokes.

I missed hearing "I'm on vacation" as he would say all week and Trisha said began from the moment he walked in from work on Friday afternoon before the beach.

I missed him praying for meals.

I missed his smile.

I missed John.

Don't Make Me Count to Three!

I found a recommendation for this book, "Don't Make me Count to Three!" by Ginger Plowman on the Prayer of Hannah website, for those of you who read that page. I LOVED it! I felt like it was the first book that I read that gave practical ways to teach your children. I understand the theory and so forth of other books, but this was the how to book. I couldn't put it down. I'm not a reader, so this is a big statement. I can't think of the last book I read before then. I often will start a book but never finish it. This one I couldn't wait to read. I HIGHLY recommend this book to other mothers! Now I am going back through and writing down all the things I want to remember. Thought that while I was doing it, I would just post them here for others to read as well. (note, some of these are direct quotes from the book, others are my words). This is only the first half of the book. Seriously, this book is awesome. I felt like it gave me hope that I can train my kids in righteousness and it gave me advice on how to actually do it.

The greatest challenge today...is raising these precious children in
the ways of the Lord. God does have an important job for me and it
does require much skill. It is my calling, my priority, my struggle,
and my goal. I will rise to the occasion and accept the task at hand.
I will love, nurture, and train my children in the way that God has
called me to do.

Being a mom is more than being a cook, chauffeur, maid, counselor,
doctor, referee, disciplinarian, etc. It is about molding character,
building confidence, nurturing, training and guiding. There is nothing
like the influence that a mother has on her child. A mother's
influence has enormous potential to shape the person a child becomes,
for good or ill.

The mother in Proverbs 31 is the mother who taught, trained, guided,
and instructed her children diligently while they were young and in
her home. Now, presumably as adults, they are rising up and calling
her blessed. Why do they rise up and call her blessed? Because she
prepared them for adulthood. She prepared them to govern their own
actions. She prepared them to order their own lives according to the
Word of God. They bless her because they have been blessed by her.

A change in behavior that does not stem from a change in heart is not
commendable; it is condemnable. Is it not the same hypocrisy that
Jesus condemned in the Pharisees? In Matthew 15, Jesus denounces the
Pharisees who honored Him with their lips while their hearts were far
from him. Jesus censures them as people who wash the outside of the
cup while the inside is still unclean. ...When we focus on our
children's outside behavior and neglect what is on the inside, we will
cause our children to become manipulators...we risk them viewing
Christianity as a set of burdensome rules.

Rather than talking to your child, you talk with your child. Truly
beneficial communication is based not only on the ability to talk, but
also non the ability to listen. We should seek to understand what is
in the hearts of our children as well as showing them how to
understand and evaluate what is in their hearts.

All behaviors are linked to a particular attitude of the heart.

Our goal in probing the child's heart is to bring him to the sober assessment of himself as a sinner, to help him recognize his need for Christ, and to teach him to act, think, and be motivated as a Christian.

When your child learns how to recognize what is in his own heart, he is more likely to demonstrate godly responses on his own. In doing this, he is growing in wisdom. But when you simply tell him what his problem is and what he should do about it, you are hindering him from learning how to think like a Christian, and he will become handicapped in discerning the issues of his own heart.

Asking "why did you?" questions rarely works with children or even adults. Heart probing questions are better...for example... "What were you feeling when you hit your sister?" or "What did your sister do to make you mad?" then "Did hitting your sister seem to make things better or worse between the two of you?" "What was the problem with what your brother was doing to you?" so you want to pull out from them with each situation- what was the nature of the temptation- anger, envy, etc? how did the child respond to the temptation- was God pleased or no? What other ways could have the child responded that would have been better?

When we correct our children for wrong behavior but fail to train them in righteous behavior, we will exasperate them because we are not providing them with a way of escape (1 Cor 1013). This sort of neglect will provoke them to anger. There will never be a situation where this does not apply. As a rule, anytime you correct your child for wrong behavior, have him walk through right behavior.

For tattle telling- "he who is glad at calamity will not go unpunished." Prov 17:5

By having children go back and do the correct behavior in the right way I am training them in righteousness rather than just rebuking them for wrong. I am giving them a means of escape. I am teaching them to "put off" corrupt and deceitful desires and to "put on" the righteousness and holiness of God. Pull out what is in the heart of your child, work through how your child can replace what is wrong with what is right, and then have your child put what he has learned into practice. That is how you train them in righteousness.

Remember that training is a process. The days that our children really struggle and we become weary from training over and over again, remember Gal 6:9 "Let us not become weary in doing good for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."

The Duties of Parents, J.C, Ryle says Train with this thought continually before your eyes The soul of your child is the first thing to be considered. In every step that you take about them, in every plan and scheme and arrangement that concerns them, do not leave out that mighty question, "How will this affect their souls?" Our ultimate goal in everything should be to point them to Christ.

Benefits of teaching in the moment:

1. Children learn how to become "doers" of the Word rather than just "hearers"

2. Children comprehend better when they learn in a hands-on situation.

3. Children gain the skills of fleshing out God's Word in daily life

4. Children are better equipped to obey God.

When Johnny aggravates his brother, teach him that one of the seven things God hates is "one who causes trouble with his brothers" prov 6:19. or stirring up trouble is foolish, but if you promote peace, you are wise. (james 3:17) or for anger: Prov 15:1- a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.' Love does not delight in evil 1 cor 13:6

Make the child go back and do the correct behavior. This way the child is putting his training into practice, which will not only give him a better understanding of how it works, but will also equip him for similar situations in the future. This is teaching in the context of the moment. It's teaching for the purpose of doing. It's teaching them how to apply God's word to daily life.

Keep in mind that teaching in the context of the moment is something that you will have to do over and over. In other words, you can't expect to teach them how to apply a biblical principle and then expect them to automatically have it. Just like many things, it takes practice. You may think that is sounds like a lot of time and work, and you are absolutely right! Training our children is a process. Keep on sowing and remember the laws of the harvest. You will reap what you sow.

A stage of life over

Two weeks ago I finished weaning Silas. I fed him longer than the others simply because I wasn't ready to be done with the baby stage in life. I started grieving the end of breastfeeding when Silas was around 9 or 10 months. Soon after, he became an on-demand feeder. Had he not been our last, this would have never happened. I continued to push back the weaning date but Brett finally encouraged me to do it as Silas is just too clingy and he needed some strings cut. Dropping the first feeding was the worst, as he was constantly pulling at my shirt. But we finally got through that and the last feeding was fairly anticlimactic. At least until I told Brett later that I had given my last feeding which followed with loads of tears. This is actually terrible, because moments earlier Brett was telling me of a little girl who had just died at the hospital. She had been there for two weeks, struggling with the sequela of malaria. Her father had stayed by her bed which is really rare. I wasn't very compassionate at all to the situation, saying the girl had never been well. But then we talk of me ending breastfeeding and I start to bawl. Terrible, I know. I think one thing I feared with ending of breastfeeding was that it was also the end of having a baby. That now because I was no longer giving him the breast, I couldn't be the best comforter. Silly, I know, since I am still his mom. But that was my fear. Thankfully, on the way home from Bamako to get my sister, Silas was crying in the car. No one could console him but me. Yes there are times that this fact fatigues me, but that day I was quite content and thankful to still have a baby who needed his mommy.

So now I am done with breastfeeding and down to only one kid in diapers! My boys are growing up!! We have no plans for another child EVER and Lord willing that will be the path we take. I do find myself, however, needing to hold the little newborns on rounds at the hospital each day. This will have to do for now to make sure I don't get the baby bug again.

Though I do miss breastfeeding, I must say there are real bonuses. I can eat whatever I want and drink whatever I want without considering another human being. From July 2004 until December 2009, there were only three weeks that I was NOT pregnant or breastfeeding. I always had to think of the baby inside or the baby I was feeding. I was always worried about making sure I was drinking enough water, esp here in Mali. Now I don't have to. I drink when I'm thirsty, no pressure. I have been drinking caffeine in the morning AND afternoon. That part is nice. I am enjoying having me back to myself. :)

Uncle John

On November 7^th, my uncle John went to be with the Lord. He had gotten up early to ride around a lake in their area. Soon after that, a runner found him in the lake. Most likely he had an arrhythmia that caused him to die instantly and roll on his bike into the water. According to the autopsy, he did not have a heart attack nor aneurysm, nor did he drown. This was obviously a shock and a terrible loss for our family. He leaves behind his wife, Patricia, and two sons, David and Ben (wife Sarah) and grandson, Eli.

John was one of a kind. He could lighten the mood in any room. He was full of joy and laughter. He was always positive and encouraging. He was fun. He was always ready to play any and every game and would always try with all his might to beat his opponent, even if it was a little kid. He was athletic and full of energy. He loved NC State and often wore red with pride. He was highly intelligent and always curious and interested to learn new things. I feel like he never stopped seeing the world through a child’s eyes. He found the wonder in even the smallest of things, like monitoring the weekly growth of his tomatoes or keeping track of how much rain they had gotten with his rain gauge. These things and many others would inevitably end up on his blog so that everyone could join in excitement. His favorite invention had to be the digital camera. He could take as many pictures as he wanted without paying for developing. His camera was always in hand and he was always ready to take a picture of you doing whatever activity he felt was picture worthy. And these, of course, would also end up on his blog. He loved music and would often just start singing a song.

One day he was out taking a picture of his newly painted mailbox for his blog and realized he was capturing his shadow in the pictures. So forget the mailbox, he started taking pictures of his shadow. Like I said, he saw the joy and fun in the small things. :)

John loved his family deeply. He and Patricia were inseparable. They were best friends who did everything together. As Patricia says, they were best buddies. They truly had something special. He loved Patricia well and served her in every way.

He loved his boys as well. He passed on to them his intelligence and desire for knowledge. Both ended up at Duke University. He was proud of his boys and never failed to support them. Whether David was working for Flyswat, Yahoo, or Kiva, you could find John wearing a hat or shirt supporting his son’s work.

The family grew a little over a year ago when Ben and Sarah had Eli and so did John’s love. He was so proud of his sweet grandson and would be sure to tell you a story or show you a picture.

I love his face in this picture.

He loved his great nephews as well.

John with Zachary, my sister's son.

More than a love for his family, John had a love for the Lord. He was a true servant, always willing to help anyone with whatever task they had. He always served without grumbling or complaining. He loved everyone and always made people feel accepted. John understood that this life was only a foreshadow of what was to come. He was willing to tell anyone about the Lord and ask if they knew Him personally. He was a man of prayer. Even his prayers at dinner became a moment for him to pray for the lost and that we would be servants of the Lord who would faithfully share His love with others. There are many verses that can describe John because he was a man who lived for the Lord. He lived out Christ’s example, humbling himself and becoming a servant. Another passage that I believe John lived out well is Romans 12:9-18

“Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

John lived out these verses. He was a peacemaker and a servant.

John was like a second father to me. Patricia and he were very much involved in our lives growing up and even now as adults. They came on our family vacations. We talked to them regularly. I always knew that they loved me, cared for me, prayed for me and supported me. When I was home for his funeral, I had to look for something in his wallet. There were pictures of course, of his sons, his wife Patricia, his daughter-in-law, his grandson, as well as of his nieces. I feel privileged to have made his wallet. I love John very much. John taught me several things. One, to enjoy life, even the simple things. One should never lose sight of the wonder of things. Two, how to be a servant. John constantly gave to others and served with his whole heart. It was impressed on me at a young age that John and Patricia were servants. Though they had all they needed, they weren’t wealthy, yet they gave generously to others. They were always helping this or that family, giving their time to some group or volunteer organization. Their love for the Lord poured out onto others. That flows into the third thing his life taught me- to love unconditionally. John never met a stranger nor ever felt that he was above another. He was willing to associate with people of low position. Or any position. He didn’t see color or status or political affiliation or anything but the person and he loved them.

John will be dearly, dearly missed. As I have said before, if you had to be stuck in a room with one of our family members, you’d want it to be John. He was a joy to be around. He made any situation better. Life just won’t be the same without his camera catching every activity, even if it was you sneezing or asleep on the couch, and without his smile and laugh that could warm any heart. We love you, John, and though we know you are rejoicing with your Father in heaven, we on earth are left with a void that can’t be replaced. There is no one like you, John. You are one of a kind, an amazing husband, wonderful father, terrific uncle, a beautiful child of God who knew His Father well and shared His love with others.