All These Lonely Hearts

I have the extreme blessing of knowing some of the most amazing people on earth - and I don't say that lightly. I am amazed at the caliber of friends I have. Their passion, strength, vision, love and dedication amaze me. I so often feel like I don't deserve them, or the time they spend on me.

One of the bittersweet sides of this coin is the deep aching feeling I have when I am away from them. It is sometimes truly painful to want to dive deep into conversation with someone you have known for years, and be unable to do it. I feel, some days, like we go about creating a giant basket that waits for the day it will be filled when we spend time together again. The aching increases with the size of the basket, but so does the promise of filling the emptiness with good memories and conversations.

I cherish the new, growing friendships I have today, and in this place, but there are parts of my heart only few have been able/willing to navigate with me. There have been many things I have figured out only with the help of the men and women placed in my life divinely. These are the things I miss some days: The easy conversations and the un-awkward silences, the correct assumptions and wounds healed - points on the map of my life where I didn't stand alone, but hand in hand with someone unafraid of the path ahead.

Challenges come. Life can be painful and, yet, still full of blessing. In the entire scope of feelings and aching I hope I will always have the deep, honest, challenging, dedicated, sacrificial, friendships that make up the scenery of my story.

Waiting it Out - Part 1 - Change of View

I had a dream two nights ago - one of those dreams that troubles you, answers questions and pushes (or lurches) you forward all at the same time.


In the dream I was pregnant, but the baby wasn't fully developed yet. If I put my hands on my stomach I could sort of see the form the baby was taking. This baby was small, but growing. Then, in the dream, I started to lose her. I knew that she stopped growing and I wouldn't give birth to a live, healthy, child, but that the life of this baby had abruptly ended.


I awoke knowing that I could have done something about her life. This wasn't the way it was intended to be.


I believe dreams about babies often represent what we want to come to fruition in our lives. Our callings and hopes and dreams and ministries are all represented. My "baby" was just starting out, but my decisions to not take care caused me to lose her. As I pondered the things I desire to see happen in my lifetime in conjunction with my current actions, I knew that I was not being intentional enough with my time. I fight the urge, even now, to justify myself and pat myself on the back, but the truth is, I forsake some of the very tools I know are imparitive for "success". I had to take time, again, to remind myself what the vision is and what my personal goals are. I had to write out, again, what I want to offer in sacrifice and thanksgiving for the time I have to be part of this world.


Here are my two biggest goals: 1. To know God. I believe he is knowable to the extent my mind and spirit will travel in this lifetime. Never fully understandable, because I wouldn't want to serve a God as finite as myself, but searchable. When I stand before him at the end of my life I want it to be a reunion of familiar friends- or better, a final merging of two parts that had been inching closer and closer to each other since the beginning of time. 2. To communicate depth faithfully and powerfully. I want to challenge people in the way they think and inspire them to engage and go deeper with the words I write or speak. I don't want my thoughts and offerings to be weightless.


Reminding myself of these things, I realized that I had fallen asleep without taking care to make sure the growth of my "baby" was my first priority. Like cutting off the supply of nourishment to a growing fetus, or denying a living being oxygen, I had begun to operate as if I didn't have to be intentional with my decisions. I had taken my eyes off of the future in exchange for an assumption that said "it will all just work out . . .like magic". Well, I don't want to be at the whim of something magical. That seems too flipant to me.





"If we do only what we feel inclined to do, some of us would do nothing forever and ever. There are unemployables in the spiritual domain, spiritually decrepit people, who refuse to do anything unless they are supernaturally inspired. The proof that we are rightly related to God is that we do our best whether we feel inspired or not. One of the great snares of the Christian worker is to make a fetish out of his rare moments. . .if you make a god of your best moments, you will find that God will fade out of your life and never come back until you do the duty that lies nearest, and have learned not to make a fetish of your rare moments."


April 25, My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers





I have just once to offer this moment to the world. I will never be able to do it again. I want to be able to decide fully and intentionally what I do with it, so as not to waste and squander. This doesn't mean I lock myself in a convent and stop sleeping in exchange for prayer and fasting. It does mean that I stop doing things mindlessly. I stop having mindless conversations with people that are reaching out for hope. I stop gazing inward so much. I stop spending the majority of my time doing things that are fruitless. I stop satisfying temperal desires instead of eternal hungers.

New Links

Check out the new links to the left side of the page. These are sites online where I have been published! Yeah! The list is growing.
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End of the One Day Detox

The detox is over. It only lasted one day, but it was MISERABLE. The more research we did, the more we realized that we were NOT helping our bodies, but messing them up further. For example, the detox called for one full day where you drink nothing but orange juice. Do you know how much acid is in a glass of orange juice? I would be tearing my already acidic O+ stomach up with that one.
However, the resolve to get healthy is still there. So today we are eating well and I am downloading some workout videos. Between "Total Body Fitness with Gilad" and "Paula Abdul's Get Up and Dance" from 1995, which do you think I chose??? The answer: Both. Also in the plan: No sugar. No coffee. No sugar. (I have to list sugar twice because of the previous weight of sugar intake involved in my daily food consumption)
I feel better already (and I can dance!!)

Detox - a - mox

Today is the first day of our 10 day detox. Consider this fair warning that I may be grumpy/cranky/cold/hungry/achy/pitiful/whiny and resolute all at the same time.

A few stories to ponder

Sorry for the influx of posting today, but as my friend Andrew pointed out, I hadn't posted anything since the 9th and so there is some catching up to do. One of my friends recently told me, "you do too much analysis and rationalization for your own good." (Thanks, Anna) What that means on the blog-front is that there is always something more to add.

I have still been processing what was brought up in the Hypocrisy or Honesty? post. [Just so you know, I don't just throw things up here and then leave them behind. Most of the time it is just an excerpt from my thought-life, as the title of this blog so suggests. And, as E.B. White once said, "The essayist is sustained by the childish belief that everything he thinks about, everything that happens to him, is of general interest." AND since, "Anything written by E.B. White must be cherished by writers and readers," (The New York Times) I think it is worth applying to my own life/blog.]

The woman at the well. Familiar story for many but here is the synopsis: A women who is living with a man that is not her husband and has been married and divorced several times in the past goes to get water from a well. There she meets a man. (It is Jesus. If you didn't know, sorry to ruin the end of the story for you) They have a little conversation there and Jesus begins to tell her all these things about her past and current situation that there was no way for him to know, except that he is God. They discuss hearsay and questions the women has about what she has been told about worship and at the end of the conversation, being at the well and a genius in using context, Jesus offers her "water that she would never thirst again." The women runs back to her town speaking of this man she meet that told her everything she ever did and offered the very thing she was looking for - completion and satisfaction.

This story hit me as I pondered the response I wanted to have to those in need in my current community. Jesus offered her something that would outlast everything else she sought. He "heard" her need at a deeper level. I began praying for "ears to hear" the needs of those around me. The REAL needs, the deep needs of the heart and soul, the thirst that was more than they could hope to have satisfied.

I was walking home from the grocery store by myself one day and a group of "street boys" walked past me. (Some say they have homes, but they are clearly on the street most of the time) Generally these boys are very obnoxious. They start singing these songs and greeting you in highly inappropriate ways and really crossing the normal physical boundary of strangers and the whole group of them can be intimidating. This day I wasn't intimidated. I just walked through them and shook my head at thier advances saying, "No," firmly, but lovingly. I got to the end of the gaggle and one boy stuck out his hand and just said, "I just want to greet you." I took his hand and shook it and looked at him and said, "Thank you," with a genuine smile. As I kept walking away from them I felt that familiar feeling that something had just transpired that was bigger than I knew. One, the group of boys needed to know I didn't approve and wasn't scared of them. Afterall, they are just boys. They don't have the security that comes from structure and discipline. It is like the teacher you like the best because they are loving, yet firm. Two, they needed to be looked at and valued. They needed to be responded to in pure love. Not responded to like they were avoidable and disgusting. Not with the false love that comes from living on the streets, or the shallow love that comes from quickly throwing food or money their way and hurrying past. I believe I "heard" their need - or at least the part of the need I could fulfil in that given moment and situation.

It happened again as I passed a lady in the street that called to me for help. I, in my insane judgment of people, thought she was going to ask me for something so I just shook my head as I walked by. "No, no, no," she said, "I just need you to read this and tell me what it says." She pointed to an instruction sheet for enrolling in school. I helped her understand what it said and where she could get the materials it was asking for. Again, in that deeper part of me, I "heard" the woman say, "Please, don't just walk by. I need help." She was desperate. I could have missed it.

One more story. Again, walking the familiar stretch of road home I came beside a woman carrying two heavy grocery sacks. "What time is it?" she asked me. "Just after five," I said. She rolled her tired eyes and took a deep breath. I found out that she had to take the train to get home and would be travelling with her heavy bags for nearly two hours to get to her house in a township. What did I "hear"? Can you help me? Is there anything you can do to help me??? I could not, but it almost solidifies these things because I will not always be the one to answer the need. (Read my dear friend Jonah's comment on Hypocrisy or Honesty?)

So this is my current prayer and, I believe, the beginning of the answer to my questions about interacting with others. If I allow myself to be open to people's real needs, and not just responsive to their outward requests, perhaps I will be able to show them what real love looks like and perhaps they will meet Real Love face to face one day.

In the Meantime

I realize that the last few blog entries and the facebook photos make it look like I spend all my time eating, drinking and going to concerts, so in an effort to be unbiased in the portrayal of my own life, I thought I would add here what I do when I am not eating, drinking and going to concerts . . .

Currently I am working on a project that is close to my heart. South Africa doesn't have any law against human trafficking. Criminals, if they are caught, are charged with a crime like kidnapping, which honestly doesn't cover the extent of what crimes against trafficked people look like. Many groups are working in the sphere of trafficking to try and make people more aware, get legislation passed and shut down this form of slavery.

I approached one of the largest Christian magazines in South Africa about writing an article for their readers concerning trafficking and they responded enthusiastically to the idea. The truth is, more people need to be aware and need to know that they can make a difference by spreading the word and working in their own sphere of influence. One of the biggest blessings about this is that the magazine gave me 900 words, which isn't a feature, but isn't a half page blurb either. So, earlier this week we met with another woman, Tonya, working to bring awareness to those most at risk and today she sent me the contact info of a bunch of people to talk to about where South Africa is in the process of stopping trafficking.

Because South Africa is what they call a "source" and a "destination" country, (meaning trafficked persons are both brought to, transported in and sent out of the country) the vision to end trafficking here is a big one, but most of the people say they are seeing significant results and positive feedback that gives them the hopeful boost to keep working and keep involving others in the challenge.

While there are many factors that contribute to a country "supporting" trafficking, I find the most heartbreaking to be that those most at risk simply don't know that what is happening is wrong. Tonya said they often just look at it as one more oppression or crime against them in the many that make up their lives and worldview. Again and again it is the value we place on life that makes or breaks the treatment of others and how we decide to respond to a situation.

There are many more minor things going on and research to be done, but this is where my heart is right now. If you think of it, look up some facts on trafficking. You never know when you will be the one who could help someone from being taken advantage of. And, no matter where you are, don't think it isn't happening in your city. Ignorance is only bliss for the ignorant.

Easter Bunnies and Dinner Fun

For Easter we decided to revamp the common Pot Luck theme. We drew food groups out of a wicker basket and shopped for our ingredient secretly. When the 5 of us came together it was all the more fun coming up with something edible using the range of ingredients present. Oh, and we dressed up like something that represented Easter to us . . . I am most likely an egg, not a mutliple child pregnancy. . .

Giant Sandwiches

What would you do if faced with the challenge

of eating a sandwich as big as your head?

What are you doing?

Ah, the question of the century. (Okay, the question of my life.) What ARE you DOING? Said in many forms and inspired by many actions, this question is the one most said and most often attempted to be answered in my sphere of influence. Sometimes asked at just the right time to get your mind on track and help you make a decision. Othertimes the most annoying question possible because there is no good answer, though it is wished there was.

It is possible that this is one of the most foundational questions in the establishment of a modern, orderly society. South African politics has yet to learn this and I wish I could sit down with some of them right now and ask them, "What the H are you doing???" I have never felt more like there was a gap in my understanding then I do when I am watching the news and the government of South Africa and the upcoming election are featured. How can it happen that a current president be charged with corruption spanning 7 years, probable evidence available, and yet be supported by so many people? How can it be that he is still able to run for another term when the majority of that term would have him on trial? Surely there are other things a president should be doing. How can it be that those charges get dropped because the opposition supposedly obtained their evidence illegally? I don't know which is worse - the dropped charges of a possibly corrupt president or that the evidence may have been illegally obtained and now is "unavailable" to those wishing to review it. Does this not seem like chaos to anyone else? How about this part: The said current president has 6 wives and said he wouldn't get AIDS because he showered after having adulterous sex. Showered, huh?

No, I am not ranting on the SA Gov, so don't get your panties in a twist. I am ranting on the fact that no one seems to be asking good questions and getting to the bottom of what is happening. After all, I just graduated a journalism school. I am naive enough still to think that there is a right and a wrong and that the right questions lead to the right answer. I don't like feeling as if there is a sitcom going on in front of me that viewers have no decision making power in, yet will decide the most important aspects of their future by the end of the season.

"What are YOU doing?" You may ask (but only if you are clever and tied the title of this blog into the conversation) I am still trying to figure it out. I can't vote. I can write - and more than just on a blog. I can pray that the people wake up and see clearly. I can pray that I see clearly. And I can be teachable.

Oh, did I mention that the SAGov also denied the Dalai Lama a visa into the country for a Nobel Peace Prize Conference? Who denies the DALAI LAMA a visa? Seriously. From a political standpoint it is ridiculous because of the support the Lama himself has from the West. Initially the Gov said it was because his presence would distract from the 2010 World Cup, but later said it was because of pressure from China. When are we going to stop throwing all the eggs into China's basket? They'll take them if we give them.

I am just a simple human being that doesn't understand, so I have to ask, "What are you doing?"

(You thought I was going to answer the question, didn't you?)

English Lessons from Sweden

My housemate speaks of lumberjacks . . .

"Darcie, what are those things on a persons face?" Marie says as she motions to her cheeks, "You know like . . . like those people with square shirts . . . like Canadians . . . Mountain Muffins?"

"Do you mean mutton chops . . . and lumberjacks?????"

[enter hilarious laughter][enter Scrubs quote, "like a hundred tiny hampsters died on your face . . ."]

Later the same night . . .

Marie shares a story, "I was laying in my bed like a lumberjack . . ."

(What does that mean?)

I don't know how to explain this next one. It is an uncommon use of the phrase, "baked in there" as in "I baked that sentence right in there."

To be fair, some people think English is my second language. That can't be good. :)

When God Shows Up/Us

God always shows up. It may seem generalised to say it, but it is true. If he promised to never leave us or forsake us, then he won't and if we think he does then we don't believe him and that is another issue all together.

Last fall (2007) I did a School of Intercessory Prayer. I distinctly remember praying for Tibet during this school and hearing words like "warriors" and "worshippers" and beginning to pray when all the sudden my stomach felt like it had been hit by a ton of bricks, or some other magnificent force, and I began to weep and cry to the point of straining the muscles in my sides and injuring my throat. They say our memory is tied to our emotions and when we experience strong emotion we tend to remember the moment in more detail. Well, I remember this moment completely. I can tell you the way the room was set up, where certain people were standing, where I was, the decisions I made to get to that place in the room and, if I could put it in words, I could tell you exactly what it felt like.

This fall (2008) I was reading a book series that seemingly has little to nothing to do with God at all. (Yes, for those of you who wonder, it was THAT book series that caused me to be locked up in my house for weeks on end without even returning phone calls) At one point in the reading of this book series I had a deep revelation of Who God was and what his love for me looks like. To say it best, I swooned. For days on end I couldn't eat or sleep or think clearly. I was so in love that even people at work started asking what was wrong and saying, without my prompting, that I looked lovesick. I was and I will probably remember the feeling for the rest of my days.

In the winter of 2008 I was involved in setting up a prayer room in Colorado Springs. Through a number of circumstances, the completion of said prayer room was left in my hands, and, after an invitation, my brother-in-laws talented construction abilities. One day, before the unveiling of the room, I had shut myself up and locked myself in to do some painting. I was standing on a step ladder with a roller brush, paint all over my clothes, face, hair, the tarp on the ground and numerous other places it managed to splatter (I am a very messy painter, but I love it). In an instant, standing there, reaching the last border of the newly constructed wall, I had a feeling I can only describe one way. The feeling of God falling in love with me. I know, to some it sounds silly and/or improbable, but it was the most uncoerced, pure, surprising feeling - I know it didn't arise from me.

Today I feel a different piece of God's love. I feel the love a person feels when they are their weakest, when they don't deserve it, but it is given to them anyway. I feel the love of a Father, of a true Servant and Giver that doesn't wait to be wooed, but does all the wooing. I feel the completeness of a love experienced without any action of my own. It is a true love and it is the state of love I hope to live in forever. Somehow, it seems that this state of love is where the seeds will grow that will allow me to do all other things. Like fertile soil embedded with promise not yet realized.

Hypocrisy or Honesty?

click on picture for original posting on www.telegraph.co.uk

I don't want to be a hypocrite.

Say you are sitting in your house, behind your locked door, on the inside of your brick wall, safely protected by your big gate, listening to Heidi Baker talk about desiring God, hungering in desperation and the poor of Mozambique and your bell rings.

You pause the message and peak out the window to be met with the deep brown eyes of 3 young boys and you don't open the gate. Rather, you sit in the living room and wrestle what you have been told and taught about the poor in South Africa.

Okay, by now you can understand that this is me. It happened today and a battle raged between the words of Isaiah "Is this not the fast I have chosen . . . to share your food with the poor?" and the ongoing argument that handouts here are like tightening the chains of poverty.

So what do I do? If I ask myself the cliche question "What would Jesus do?" I get another battle in my head because my first response is that he would walk out of the house and give the kids even the last bit of bread he had sitting here. But I wonder if that is true. . . I wonder because I believe there is more to Jesus than I know, both as a man and as God. I have to believe that because the world I see needs deeper healing than a bandage and a pat on the back, and the God that would walk out and hand bread to a poor person is handing a band-aid to an accident victim. (Okay, not all the time, sometimes it is just bread that people need) Poverty and need aren't solved with a bit of food. The women that Elijah helped started a small business for goodness sake, she baked and sold and had enough to eat. There was a plan involved and that plan provided for the woman and her son for years to come, it didn't feed her once and create a pattern of reliance. . .however, I may have just sent my neighbor away saying, "be warm and well-fed," and done nothing to help them get there.

When I was a kid people used to drop groceries off on our front porch anonymously because we didn't have enough. To this day I hold a special place in my memory of those moments and desire to be a generous and giving person as well, but do I get to pick and choose? If I don't give to the boys standing outside my gate, but I give to my friend going on outreach does it really count? Does it really solidify the process of begging so rampant in this country if you give to every door to door begger that comes by? Or is this just the outcome of so many high walls and locked gates - hard hearts?

I am mid-thought on this one, comments welcome, even if you call me a hypocrite.

Security Breach

(Please do not rollerblade and skateboard at the same time)

I was just sitting there, minding my own business on Platform 1, waiting for the train towards Kalk Bay. I looked up and saw a young South African man throw a water bottle violently towards someone I could not see and run after them. A few minutes later this young man, a much younger boy and a very old man with a temper came back to the platform and yelled across the tracks to the security officer on the other side.

"This guy just stole money from him!" said the elderly man in regards to the South African.


"Sorry, that is not my platform," was the reply, "You have to go get that guy." He pointed to the security officer sitting alone down the staging area, away from all people, obviously pondering to himself and dosing in and out of sleep. The safety of the awaiting passengers clearly not on his mind as I had watched him move away from people repeatedly for the last 20 minutes.

The youngest of our conflicted group went to fetch him. I watched as the security officer stood slowly and, with obvious hesitation, walked towards the other two men trying to sort out the justice of the matter. It was as if we was wearing a security officer's outfit as a costume and actually had nothing to do with safety at all. Once he reached the group and the scenario was replayed again, the Platform 2 officer jumped off his platform, onto the train tracks, ran across them and jumped back up to our Platform. So much for the previous boundary remark and so much for the example of safety.

I doubt anything was solved within our quintet. At one point I saw some money being thrown at someone, but, again, with such violence that the victory was probably not sweet.



Just before all this I had been standing against a column when a man walked up to me and said, "Sister, there is some money there," and pointed to the ground. I replied, "Oh, it is not mine," and listened as a collective gasp from all other awaiting passengers rose. Another man walked up and took the coin from the ground. I could almost hear him thinking, "Well, if you don't want it . . ."


. . . An hour later . . .


I was waiting at the train station to ride back to Muizenberg from Kalk Bay when I saw a man standing on the wrong side of the yellow line that marks the safe zone away from oncoming trains. The security officer at this station, on the appropriate platform, made a motion with his hands indicating that the man should move away from the line before the train came. The man made a sarcastic motion back and yelled something about not understanding sign language. The security officer motioned again. The man flailed his arms about. The security officer motioned. The man wiggled around in rebellion. I then thought to myself two things: 1) this flailing man must be bored and I wish there was a way to engage him in the rest of the world so he had something more constructive to do then mess with a security officer at a train station, and 2) the security officers in South Africa obviously have no authority and are there to make tourists and unknowing citizens feel better. It really is like they are wearing a costume.

A Slice of Heaven-South African Style

3 out of 5 muffins. . . the apples were a bit soggy, but, thanks to the baker up the street I was able to make a great pie crust!

Who are you?

God, Who are you?

I find myself asking this question again and again. Though I know some of the answer, it still beckons me. Who is this God I serve? Who is this God I serve in sadness? In patience? In trauma? In confusion? In joy? Who is He?

“If thou hadst known . . .” Luke 19:42

What is it of God that I wish to know the most? The essence of him who I rely on; the depth of He who all things are upheld in; the purity of One without shadow . . . Without Shadow.

Selah.

Who are you, God?

I started reading the Message Bible this week. I started with the passage that most defines my time in South Africa, Psalm 119. About three months ago I sat awestruck at the depth and significance of this passage. I saw things I had never seen before in the words and the longing it contains. Verse after verse revealed significance in the commands God has lain before us. Not laws and regulations that inspire rebellion, but deep truth on how to best live this life, stay healthy, be able to feed families and make decisions for a community. I saw that the very cry of our hearts, the longing we have and the written principles of God are intertwined. When we cry out for the poor, we are crying out for the principles of God to be made manifest in a life. When we weep over preventable disease we are weeping for the truth of health to be made known to an individual created by God. Intercession and precept go hand in hand, for in areas where intercession is abundantly needed, precepts are in lack.

Selah.

March 09 Update Letter

Dear Friends and Family,

The first three months in the Rainbow Nation of South Africa has been more than I could have imagined. Heading into the School of Field Journalism with all your support and prayers was such a huge blessing. Thank you for standing with me as friends, family, pray-ers, generous givers and overall, an amazing community. During this time I have had the opportunity to speak to a lot of people about their "home church" and the community that supports them. Each time I have felt so honored that I can speak from the example of what being truly supported looks like. I don’t feel alone in my vision and besides that I feel like so much can be accomplished. True partnership is a beautiful thing and I thank you for everything you do to make me feel loved and well cared for.

I have officially graduated the School of Field Journalism and am spending the next two months in Cape Town doing a personalized internship. This time will consist of interviewing, researching, writing and spending one-on-one time with people that will help me further develop and deepen my ability to communicate well. During the last few weeks of the school we spent time learning design, photography and video. Each of these topics will be further covered in my internship. I will also be following up on specific topics I started exploring during the school. For example:I plan on diving deep into ideas that were highlighted during my trip to Zimbabwe in late February. Also, I have had a great opportunity to continue meeting men and women that have pioneered new things throughout this continent and have plans to sit with them and begin recording their stories.

Prayer:
Please pray for favor within all the interviews and topics I will be exploring. Many have to do with refugees, disease and hardship. I pray the light of God will shine in the relationships that are built and that life flows out of them freely.
Please pray that the proper channels for these stories to be read are opened and each word is carefully written and fully understood.
I thankfully report that my health and finances have been well this season. Praise God for his faithful provision and all he prepared even before I came. Please pray these continue and that I am able to bless those around me from nations and families that can not help financially. This includes my classmates that are travelling to Uganda for their field assingment.
I can not wait to write again in a month with all the stories of God’s faithfulness. May God be glorified in all we do. Amen.
Darcie

I send my updates via email. If you would like to get one please let me know and I will add you to the list! Thanks! Also let me know if you want giving info.

Adventures in Baby Sitting

Monday we had the opportunity to sit with two of our school staff before they travelled back to the other side of South Africa where they live and teach. We brought brunch and chatted about the school and life and next steps. After a while they packed up to take the train back to their temporary place in Muizenberg to get ready for their big move. We where then delightfully left with the two daughters of our school leaders . . .

We had a great time. Lydia watched Paddington Bear and I got to feed Emmanuelle mashed bananas. Unfortunatley Marie's allergies flared at the existance of a dog and cat, but she maintained sanity by sitting outside and reading page after page of information about radio!

I love babysitting . . .

Home SWEEEEEET Home

Here are pics of my new (temporary) digs! WOO! I love it!

(Don't) Try this at home

I must inform you on how ridiculously happy I am right now.

Monday we started moving. That was three days ago. Today, we still aren't totally finished, but the only thing left is finding out how to return keys and get deposits back, the majority is finalized. Complete. Done. Finis. Finito. The school is scattered around the continent and God is on the move!

Our new place is GREAT! There is a kitchen - a real one with a fridge and a stove! There is a bathroom without mold and a shower that doesn't flood the floor! There is a living room and a picnic table in the dining room and it is clean and secure and lovely. Very, very lovely. Yesterday I found a recipe in a magazine and cooked up my version of Thai Vegetable Curry with Couscous. It turned out great. Then, with the leftover chicken I made a Chicken and Vegetable Soup! I am so proud of myself. (The above pic is not of my kitchen, nor my computer.)

I love living this life!