Yeah, it has felt like it's been pouring lately around here. Life anywhere gets a little hectic with two young boys, but trying to do life in a developing nation that is not our first culture sometimes feels like it exponentially increases the chaos factor. And, you hit stretches that just feel like you're in a downpour that might never let up.
Ours started in early February with an emergency room visit and hospital stay with my youngest. As we got back home from that, my older son got the virus (croup), and then John and I both proceeded to have some form of horrible respiratory infection/virus, and my youngest got another cold or virus of some kind. Coming out of that, John hit a super busy stretch at work here, and the boys and I got a round of vaccinations of stuff you never have to consider in the States. We were supposed to get the 2nd round of one of those the following week, and we hit a major transportation strike, which led to our vaccination "adventure" that I wrote about earlier. The following week was lice, followed promptly by an intestinal virus for 3 out of 4 of us. In the midst of that, I decided that I would take advantage of John's brother visiting to come along with me to finally get some things that I have been needing in one area of town that I never bother to attempt by myself with the boys, only to be cut short by a bandh (strike) that got announced that morning as we were on the way there! Just as the last one of us was finishing up the tummy bug, we discovered our bathroom covered in tiny bugs after a hard rain that day. They seem to have been bird mites, caused by nemesis creatures here--the pigeons! (Ok, I have a few nemesis creatures here!) That, along with totally ruining the cake I was baking for the group I was supposed to be hosting the next morning, was my breaking point.
I have had some ups and downs over this last stretch, but I felt like God kept bringing me back to a good place, and I had just started to feel like God was using a reminder to focus on gratitude to renew my mind and focus on how much we really do enjoy life here and are thankful for how amazingly blessed we truly are here!
But, those (avoiding adjectives because only swear words are coming to mind) little bugs!
It was rain that drove them inside, it would seem. A downpour of rain that turned into a hail storm. Just as we were preparing to leave the house, Ezekiel handed me the umbrella, and I put him back, telling him we didn't need it. Fifteen minutes later, the skies turned dark and opened up and just dumped on us. I ran to the office, pushing the boys in our double stroller (please imagine the entertainment factor to the locals). We got inside just as the pouring rain turned into hail--balls of ice falling from the sky ready to pelt you and the head in waves that just keep coming. Metaphor, anyone?
The thing is that the hail storm turned out to be one of the highlights of our week, maybe even our month. The boys had never seen hail before, and they were absolutely giddy. From the top floor of the office building, it was quite an amazing site to see the streets filling up with the tiny white ice balls. The boys insisted on going up to the roof and scooping up handfuls of the hail and dancing and laughing as rain continued to fall. Even I felt light as I ran home through ankle-deep water that had run over from the ditches where garbage collects.
And, then a flood of tiny bugs turned it back into the head-pelting stuff falling from the sky.
An infestation of bugs? Really? How in the world do you give thanks when things are covered in little disgusting bugs that threaten to take over?!
I was trying, really trying to thank, to praise, but I really just broke.
And THAT is where I am challenged to give thanks...for the breaking. Ouch. It is painful and runs counter to most everything I or culture has sewn into me to celebrate the overcoming, the moments of human stretch, to suck it up and press through obstacles and endure. But the moment of yielding...maybe there is the greatest victory. Yielding my strength and my prove-myself endurance to One far greater, that brings "beauty from ashes," that redeems the messy and the painful, allowing my stubborn and prideful heart to be transformed into something for His glory.
Every single time in this last season that I have hit the end of myself, God has come through in amazing ways, and this was no exception. We got a referral for a professional exterminator who turned out to live around the corner, and within less than 48 hours and with really impressive service, they had taken care of the bugs (and my other nemesis creatures here--the cockroaches)! My dear friend Laurel showed up the morning of the group to host with cookies to replace my ruined cake. Maybe only someone who is part Mennonite can truly appreciate the significance of that! :) The group that I was hosting is an amazing group of women who came around me as I cried in sharing about my bugs and the end of my stamina, and they prayed and lifted me up and encouraged me and refreshed my soul. Not to mention the list of sweet gifts, like our new furniture arriving the next day, booking our travel plans for an upcoming trip to Thailand, and a whole leftover pizza to pull out to save dinner preparations and ice cream and care package toppings to end the night.
It doesn't seem the rain storm is done quite yet. John had perhaps the longest few days of work he's had yet, which meant long days for me with the boys. As I sit here typing, my big toe on my right foot is throbbing from what would seem to be an infection, which I tried to get a quick consult for at the local hospital, only to be told that I need to see a doctor, and there weren't any there today. While I'm excited about the upcoming retreat for the company in a couple days, it involves an 8-hour bus ride with two little boys.
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Given my track record, it is likely I haven't "learned my lesson" in any final sense, but I can pray that I will keep growing in seeing the breaking point as a gift in itself and have eyes that stay tuned into all the many gifts around it as well. When it rains, it pours. And sometimes hails right down on your head. And, I can only hope and pray that I will more and more often dance and laugh and yield to the wonder and the gifts of it all.
Ours started in early February with an emergency room visit and hospital stay with my youngest. As we got back home from that, my older son got the virus (croup), and then John and I both proceeded to have some form of horrible respiratory infection/virus, and my youngest got another cold or virus of some kind. Coming out of that, John hit a super busy stretch at work here, and the boys and I got a round of vaccinations of stuff you never have to consider in the States. We were supposed to get the 2nd round of one of those the following week, and we hit a major transportation strike, which led to our vaccination "adventure" that I wrote about earlier. The following week was lice, followed promptly by an intestinal virus for 3 out of 4 of us. In the midst of that, I decided that I would take advantage of John's brother visiting to come along with me to finally get some things that I have been needing in one area of town that I never bother to attempt by myself with the boys, only to be cut short by a bandh (strike) that got announced that morning as we were on the way there! Just as the last one of us was finishing up the tummy bug, we discovered our bathroom covered in tiny bugs after a hard rain that day. They seem to have been bird mites, caused by nemesis creatures here--the pigeons! (Ok, I have a few nemesis creatures here!) That, along with totally ruining the cake I was baking for the group I was supposed to be hosting the next morning, was my breaking point.
I have had some ups and downs over this last stretch, but I felt like God kept bringing me back to a good place, and I had just started to feel like God was using a reminder to focus on gratitude to renew my mind and focus on how much we really do enjoy life here and are thankful for how amazingly blessed we truly are here!
But, those (avoiding adjectives because only swear words are coming to mind) little bugs!
It was rain that drove them inside, it would seem. A downpour of rain that turned into a hail storm. Just as we were preparing to leave the house, Ezekiel handed me the umbrella, and I put him back, telling him we didn't need it. Fifteen minutes later, the skies turned dark and opened up and just dumped on us. I ran to the office, pushing the boys in our double stroller (please imagine the entertainment factor to the locals). We got inside just as the pouring rain turned into hail--balls of ice falling from the sky ready to pelt you and the head in waves that just keep coming. Metaphor, anyone?
The thing is that the hail storm turned out to be one of the highlights of our week, maybe even our month. The boys had never seen hail before, and they were absolutely giddy. From the top floor of the office building, it was quite an amazing site to see the streets filling up with the tiny white ice balls. The boys insisted on going up to the roof and scooping up handfuls of the hail and dancing and laughing as rain continued to fall. Even I felt light as I ran home through ankle-deep water that had run over from the ditches where garbage collects.
And, then a flood of tiny bugs turned it back into the head-pelting stuff falling from the sky.
An infestation of bugs? Really? How in the world do you give thanks when things are covered in little disgusting bugs that threaten to take over?!
I was trying, really trying to thank, to praise, but I really just broke.
And THAT is where I am challenged to give thanks...for the breaking. Ouch. It is painful and runs counter to most everything I or culture has sewn into me to celebrate the overcoming, the moments of human stretch, to suck it up and press through obstacles and endure. But the moment of yielding...maybe there is the greatest victory. Yielding my strength and my prove-myself endurance to One far greater, that brings "beauty from ashes," that redeems the messy and the painful, allowing my stubborn and prideful heart to be transformed into something for His glory.
Every single time in this last season that I have hit the end of myself, God has come through in amazing ways, and this was no exception. We got a referral for a professional exterminator who turned out to live around the corner, and within less than 48 hours and with really impressive service, they had taken care of the bugs (and my other nemesis creatures here--the cockroaches)! My dear friend Laurel showed up the morning of the group to host with cookies to replace my ruined cake. Maybe only someone who is part Mennonite can truly appreciate the significance of that! :) The group that I was hosting is an amazing group of women who came around me as I cried in sharing about my bugs and the end of my stamina, and they prayed and lifted me up and encouraged me and refreshed my soul. Not to mention the list of sweet gifts, like our new furniture arriving the next day, booking our travel plans for an upcoming trip to Thailand, and a whole leftover pizza to pull out to save dinner preparations and ice cream and care package toppings to end the night.
It doesn't seem the rain storm is done quite yet. John had perhaps the longest few days of work he's had yet, which meant long days for me with the boys. As I sit here typing, my big toe on my right foot is throbbing from what would seem to be an infection, which I tried to get a quick consult for at the local hospital, only to be told that I need to see a doctor, and there weren't any there today. While I'm excited about the upcoming retreat for the company in a couple days, it involves an 8-hour bus ride with two little boys.
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