God’s Hand in Chorkor

This has taken me 3+ weeks to write… Part of it has been forgetting, and part has been struggling to find the words to capture the beauty of this day. I figure that at some point, I have to get around to pressing “Publish”… So here goes nothing.

For the past two months, I have been bugging Robin Beebe about letting Caty and I accompany her and her family to Chorkor for their April visit. We were grateful that we were able to work out a time when all of us could go, yet we didn’t even know what would be in store for us this day.

Once we had picked up everyone we needed for the day (and Godwin had fallen asleep on Caty’s lap), Robin started talking about the different jobs that needed to happen that day. First off, one of the single mothers was being taught how to make bracelets out of beads in order to hopefully provide a living for herself in the near future. She is currently traveling about 3 out of 7 days a week, leaving her kids small amounts of food while she is gone, along with a house that has no mother in it. Feeding the Orphans is trying to teach her a trade that will keep her close to her family, but still be able to sustain herself as she needs.

The next job that had to be delegated was collecting thank you cards from 14 students at a community school who received education sponsorships through Feeding the Orphans. These students were not going to school before, as until recently, there were only (expensive) private schools in the area. It is just recently that they have been able to get access to education, which still would not be possible without the assistance of FTO and their sponsorers.

Finally, there were still more deliveries to be made, so a group of people would make the last round of food stops while the others stayed behind to complete their tasks. As Reid decided that it was important for Caty to get to see a local school, we were assigned to thank you card duty – fine by me! Walking through the village to get there, I was able to get plenty of laughs from the locals by throwing “Etesein!” (How are you?) their way… Always brings about a giggle at my attempt to sound like I know what in the world I am doing!

As we approached the school, I was thankful we had our friend Richard with us… Richard is a FTO employee who has been working in Chorkor for quite a while and has built some strong relationships with the people there (the fact that he is Ghanaian instantly gives him an advantage over any America trying to do the same job!). He knew what kids we needed, where to find them, and who to talk to so that people were’t totally freaked out by the white people in their school! We did get a LOT of attention, but at least they had some idea of who we were!

While thank you cards themselves went pretty well (much better than I expected!), and meeting those kids was so sweet, what I wasn’t quite prepared for was the time we would have after we finished. The kids were on their lunch break, but it kind of seemed as if they were done for the day… There was zero structure, minus the teachers running dance practice for the kids in the middle of the courtyard. Caty and I wandered in and out of classrooms, peering into life at this place… Life which includes classrooms that are small and dark, blank walls, and a chalkboard and chalk as supplies for the day. Children bring their own “exercise books” to school, and all work appears to be done in these small notebooks. After seeing the crazy excess that accumulates in many American classrooms, it’s heartbreaking to walk into these rooms and realize that this is all these are able to provide for.

At the end of the day, I stood in a circle with a few kids trying to get them to sing me songs they knew from church… I only got songs out of a few of them, but their words were beautiful. I just stood there feeling as though my only purpose that day was to say three simple words… “Jesus loves you.” There was a beautiful girl, probably 13 or 14, who just had the eyes of a leader… I can’t even remember her name, but I remember her eyes and I know she is going to be such a force for His kingdom… So I took her hand and told her that. “God has big plans for you,” He told me to say… “Keep going to school and getting an education, you are going to do such great things!” Her smile was priceless… But that was God’s promise to her in that moment. I pray that she continues to seek out her great future… I really believe it’s there waiting for her.

As I start to look toward my return to the States, it’s days like these that I hope I never forget. Days where the brokenness of our world feels pressed into my heart… Days where I am reminded of how much help some people in this world need… Days where God is so clearly working, even in the depths and the pain and the struggle… Days where God so clearly spans this entire world in such an intimate, beautiful way.

The classroom where we wrote their thank you letters...

Spirit of Love and Adventure

We start to climb into the big Sequoia, only to discover that we’re not all going to fit… “Autumn, can you drive the red car?,” John asks in a moment of desperation. Once we all pile inside and make sure the car’s actually going to work, we’re finally off… Late, as usual. Where are we going, you ask? Oh, you know, just to a four hour engagement ceremony…

Last week I had the opportunity to attend the engagement of two of our sweet staff members, Lydia and Nosa. Lydia lives with the Omorefe family and cooks us delicious dinners every night, and Nosa is John’s younger brother who works at the water house we have on-site. These two sweet souls are getting married at the end of the month, and I actually have the honor of being a bridesmaid! This whole wedding experience is certainly a cultural adventure for me.

Ghana wedding tradition is quite different from that of the States. Here, they use the presentation of a dowry to signify the official beginning of the engagement. The man must participate in a “knocking,” where he visits the home of the bride’s family and asks for a list of things to include in the dowry. After a few months of searching and bartering, the groom presents the dowry to the family in a ceremony that includes a lot of picture taking, offerings, fancy clothes, and formal presentations of both gifts and people. For Lydia and Nosa’s, we took a day trip to the mountains that beckon us from our view. The trip was beautiful, a landscape I hadn’t experienced yet in Ghana… The trees were lush, the forests thick, and the sights incredible once Autumn navigated the STEEP climb. I was thankful that Caty was in the country this week and was able to experience these sights with me.

Though the ceremony itself was particularly long and sweaty (and all the balloons started popping because they were too hot), I am thankful to have been able to experience this day. We took three cars of people to go witness the declaration of Nosa’s intent to marry Lydia, and it was so sweet to see them together. A few weeks ago, I went with Lydia to go try on her wedding dress… The usually stoic and reserved Lydia practically skipped out of the house we were at, cheering “That’s my wedding gown!!” I am excited to see where God leads these two together, and thankful that their timing allowed me to be a part of this beautiful progression of events.

How do I say “See you later?”

Today I cried. A lot. And I cried in front of our kids for the first time. As a big group of them clung to Auntie Holly’s every word as we called her for her birthday, I wept… I am scared of being on the other side of this equation, being one of the ones who has left with an indefinite return date. I know that perfect love casts out fear… But there are times when that fear doesn’t quite seem to be cast out.

 I am at the point where I have less than two months here… Boy that feels terrifying. I have shed tears multiple times over the idea of putting Gamali down for the last time… Tonight as I squeezed Florence’s hand, I wished I could be here to teach her to read forever, cultivating her passion for learning that is already so large… Instead, I will sponsor her education financially and leave her in the hands of another teacher who will hopefully love her as much as I do.

Talking to Holly after the kids went to bed didn’t help my case all that much… No more tears, but still some anxiety about what that transition will look like. She kept pointing out “I fell in love with all those kids and I still love them all so much, but I don’t know what to do with that.” What will I do with my overflowing love for some of them as I climb on a plane so soon? How do I deal with the fact that they have captured my heart in a way which is irreplaceable? Can I even fathom the idea of leaving Bismark here and knowing that he probably won’t get the services he needs? What about the regret I feel already for not being able to give Pamela what she needs? I am starting to try and process these thoughts and I don’t like anything that I come up with. I know that I adored my kindergarten students, and that I will have class upon class for years to come, but this feels different… This is different… And I’m not sure what to make of that yet.

What I do know is that no matter how much pain leaving may bring, the simple words of “I love you” from these kids makes anything I go through worth it. There are images and feelings I have from my time spent with these children that will never leave my memory, and there is a love that will never be broken. Thankfully, I know I will meet up with all these children in the future, even if it takes all of us partying it up in Heaven… What a huge, beautiful dance party with Jesus that will be!

Release

I have struggled to figure out what to share about my life over the past two months. I realize that I live in Africa, so hypothetically I should be blogging about my travel adventures… Except there’s the small fact that I don’t have many! I did go to a women’s conference last weekend that earned a blog post of its own, but aside from that, my physical life is pretty confined to the 20 acres of land that City of Refuge sits on, with a few trips to the Accra mall to use their internet thrown in.

Two months ago today I stepped on a plane in Los Angeles, California headed for Chicago, then Frankfurt, and finally landed in Accra about 30 hours later. I left LA a wreck, sad to be leaving the States again after a wonderful weekend with the Villalpando’s and just pure exhausted from a 4:00am wake-up call at my hotel and an 11:00pm bedtime the night before. Once in Chicago, I learned that I didn’t have anything to do during my 7 hour layover in Frankfurt, so I started to cry. Tears of exhaustion, tears of frustration… Which continued in the Frankfurt airport 10 hours later. Faced with 7 hours and 11 euros to my name, this layover didn’t look promising. By the time I got to Accra, all I wanted was to see John and Stacy… Luckily the airport was FAST and they found me outside right away.

Little did I know that the moment of stepping off the plane in Accra (or maybe boarding in LA) started the beginning of a whole new journey, completely different from the first time I came into country. I knew what to expect at City of Refuge, I knew what my job was, I knew who my kids were… But now, I am in a season of figuring out who I am. Figuring out what I really do stand for, what I really do believe in… Figuring out how to be brave with the words that I speak, not just with what my fingers can write. I am in a season of growing pains… and it’s beautiful.

It hasn’t all been beautiful. In fact, my first month back was pretty messy… A lot of pleading to God for answers, a lot of loneliness, a lot of frustration, a lack of communication, and a lot of internal dialogue that said “What are you working for? What are your goals in this life? If you died tomorrow, what would people say about your work in this world?” I didn’t have answers… I was just pretty low. My blog “Sacrifice” speaks to moments of this time… Moments that didn’t have such happy endings for the tine being.

But in these depths, God has met me. In this frustration, God has said “Don’t quit on yourself yet.” Even when I did my best to ignore Him after a completely overwhelming run where I felt like I wanted to melt into the ground and never come out, terrified and afraid of His presence and His power… The one thing that has felt consistent is His pursuit of me. From people asking me to pray at certain times to Emily asking me to help her figure out who is who in the nativity set in the library to prayers lavished on me by Jodie from YWAM in the three days they were here to visit… God has been very clear to say “You can run, but you can’t hide. You can say you don’t want anything to do with me right now, but I am everything to do with you, and you will see that when you are ready.” I have tried to hide… Not to run away, but to hide… and, sweetly, He is showing me that it just doesn’t work.

I think the turning point for me in this season might have been the moment that Jodie and I sat on the ground during worship in our lunch area and she spoke over me. She spoke to things that had been going on in my mind the past week or so, not voiced to anyone… She spoke to fears of mine and situations that I didn’t even quite realize were there… But really it wasn’t her speaking, it was God… and it was so clear in that moment. So clear that her words were from Him, because there was no way she could have known these things otherwise. Tears streamed down my cheeks as she spoke, because I knew that these words were Jesus speaking to me. It was beautiful… It was filling… It was needed.

A few weeks ago, I was on a run out towards Doryumu when I realized that my favorite white bird tree was empty… The tree that is usually echoing with squawks around sunset stood bare except for the one black bird that came and hopped around on it. I was so upset… “Where have all the white birds gone and where are all the stars? Where’s my street-wise Holly Bee to ride the trotro car?” I walked home making up this song and laughing to myself, as a few of the birds proceeded to fly over me during that time. Today as I ran, a grin burst out over my face as I realized the birds were back… The birds that remind be of the simple beauty of this place, the intricacy in the simplicity… They are back. And it feels like a piece of me is back… But I also think there are some pieces of me that are here for the first time. Pieces of contentment, pieces of gratitude, pieces of relationship, pieces of belonging… Some of these are coming around for the first time here and it’s beautiful.

Simple beauty is easy to find here. Tonight, I stood in the shadow of the soccer goal directly under Orion’s Belt and a multitude of other stars as I stared at the thin gold-tinted crescent moon directly in front of me…. This afternoon, I witnessed a glowing orange sun set in the middle of fluffy clouds and a pink tinted sky… The faces of Gamali and Florence looking up at me speak for themselves.

Branches has been going through Ecclesiastes for the Lenten season and I have been lucky enough to be able to download the podcasts when we go into town. After a response from Ryan Miller on Monday that said “Ok, you have to listen to yesterday’s message,” I was able to get it on Tuesday and listen on Wednesday morning… and I am so thankful. In his message, Ryan spoke of this feeling of being alive… this feeling of actually LIVING on earth, not simply managing… As sweet Angie Doe spoke of in Keta last week, “We are not called to simply MANAGE!” We are called to life… We are called to being aware of our surroundings… We are called to live in the NOW and seek fullness in what is around us now, not waiting for what “is to come” in order to find happiness… And that calling feels exciting!

I am finally at a point in my classroom where I am starting to see growth in my students… And I am also at a point in my classroom where I am transitioning out. I am training sweet Nina to come in and take my place, hoping to set her up successfully while I am still here in order to prepare the classroom for when I’m not here anymore. While I am sad to be “leaving” these students, I am excited for what will be in store for them with Nina. There is an accent barrier that makes teaching phonics and spelling very difficult, and I think it will be beneficial to them to have someone teaching them who they can actually hear. In this transition, I feel a little stress… I feel a little sad… But I am excited for what is to come. I am excited to have more time to spend with Bismark, time to work ahead with Alex and Florence, time to spend with Pamela… Time to help fill in whatever random roles Autumn needs me to do in the school for the next three months. Oh Lord, I don’t want to leave… Comments are starting to be made about my departure and I can’t talk about it. I can’t think about it, I can’t come to terms with it… Even writing this feels like too much.

All in all, this season feels like a season of release. Releasing some ties that have been holding me back, releasing some relationships that are toxic to me, releasing my classroom, releasing some of my material ties to this world, and releasing myself to God… Allowing myself to live in the moment, thankful for the time that I have and the situations I find myself in. Sometimes, this feels easier than other times… and it certainly is a slow process. But it’s a process of allowing the Holy Spirit to dwell in me… a process of trying to accept the idea of becoming vulnerable… a process of giving up the control that I love so much… It’s a process of figuring out what it means to truly be alive.

A few quick words

Just a few quick words...
Out Internet has been a saga ever since we got back, and right now... Well, we don't have any. Emily and I have been at the mercy of Stacy, or going into Accra (a 2 hour trip by public transport) to buy a voucher. We are at the mall now with Autumn and Stacy right now enjoying a little afternoon with no children!!

Please pray for my health... My body has been holding on we'll, but recently I have had a bunch of stomach issues (on both sides of the spectrum) as well as headaches, some body aches, some days of feeling weak, and yesterday/today have brought a sore throat. It's like my body wants to get malaria but it's not... And it's pretty annoying. So prayers for continued health would be appreciated!

I am also starting my process of deciding what jobs to look for next ear, where to look, and trying to figure out where I feel I am being called... Job postings won't really be up until March or April but that is coming SOON!! Crazy!

36 days until Caty gets into country.... Ohhhh I cannot contain my excitement! Even thoug her trip will be short (6 days), I can't wait to share this with someone...

In about a week I am starting the process of training one of our teachers to take over my job... AH! That is crazy! That means that I will start handing over some of the responsibility and spending more time with some of our kids who need more individualized attention... I can't believe it's happening so soon!!

Missing and loving and trying not to want anything other than the riches that have been placed in front of me!

Desperation in Chorkor

Apparently I have come up with a new definition for blogging.

Blogging (blah-ging), v.: The act of word vomiting one’s emotions through a keyboard and posting them for the world to see. Emphasis is put on lonely and difficult feelings.

Now, since my goal is to be as honest and raw as I can be, I’ll use those as an “excuse.” But in this post, I want my definition to look a little more like this…

Blogging (blah-ging), v.: The act of creating visualizations through the use of words and pictures that aim to share what the writer is seeing, hearing, feeling, or experience. Emphasis is put on experiences that have a chance to affect or change the reader.

Let’s try this new definition…

On Wednesday, I was talking to Robin in the morning about, well, pretty much everything… Where our hearts are, what we’re struggling with, what we’re excited about, and somehow their trips to Chorkor and the fact that I had never gotten to go came up and Robin, kind of jokingly, said “You can come with us tomorrow if you want!” Sold.

At the beginning of every month, the Beebe family delivers food to five families with children sponsored through the organization Feeding the Orphans. This is one of two organizations that this family has dedicated their life for the next year and a half to serving… Delivering food, organizing education sponsorships, loving on children all over the country, and providing a sense of hope to the people here in Ghana. Trips to Chorkor involve visiting three single (grand)mothers and delivering food for their family for the month. We’ll name these three special women Laura, Anne, and Mya, for the sake of confidentiality.

Now, going into this day, I know my eyes are going to open big. I know a little bit of the scenery and desperation I am going to face through pictures I have seen of previous trips. None of this prepares you for what you really see. For imagination’s sake, pretend you’re sitting in the back seat with Godwin and I as we embark on this journey through the village…

Chorkor is a community located on a salt-water reservoir used for salt mining. Other than salt mining, it’s only purpose seems to be a place for people to deposit their trash. This community, though technically part of the capital city of Ghana, has no trash service and no place to dispose of their waste besides the banks of the reservoir. Driving along the water, filth seems to be all you can see… This place is messy, in every sense of the word. But there is no option for these people… This isn’t something where you could go in and say “Ok, here’s a big garbage dump for you to use, all your problems are fixed!” This is a place where throwing away garbage is their last worry… Finding food for the next meal and finding clean water for your family to drink is constantly being pushed into the forefront of their minds.

As you and I drive along this road, take note of the kids you see on the side of the road. There aren’t many, but the ones you do see mean a child who’s not in school, meaning a child whose parents likely can’t afford to pay the $30-50 per trimester for school fees associated with attending a private school. Now while private school may sound like a first-class establishment, you might rethink you perceptions when you learn that the child will likely be beaten with a cane if they step out of line and might have to sit on their knees with their hands above their head if they “disturb” their class by talking too much. When you realize that the children don’t learn anything about the solar system, and likely can’t reason with you as to why the sky is blue, but can rattle off Bible verses like no one’s business, you might start getting skeptical… But I digress.

Remember hearing about Laura? Well, she’s our first stop today. After parking on the side of a “main” road, we walk between two shops and approach a small house (if “house” is what we are calling a one-room mud hut). Here, we are greeted by a smiling, cheerful woman whose eyes beam when she sees the food we are carrying towards her. She is eager to talk about the small expansion she is putting on her house and assures us that the children are doing well. After praying with her, we leave the food and head back to the car. It is then that Robin tells Emily and I that Laurie is actually taking care of her sister and her sister’s two children, rather than her own. Her sister has an intellectual disability and is not able to care for her children, who were likely conceived through rape. Thankfully, Laura has a heart for these kids and has given her life to making sure they are provided for. I am thankful that FTO can help make this possible for them, and I pray that Jesus will bless this woman and her heart for her family.

Our first delivery of the day at Laura's house!

Outside of Anne's house.

This is how we found Anne... The pain in her eyes is clear.

Mya and the food that will help to feed her family this month!! 

After hopping back in the car and snacking on some fresh pineapple bought off the street, we twist and turn our way through the roads and over very sketchy bridges in order to arrive at Anne’s house. We have been told in advance that Anne is taking care of her three grown daughters and their nine children, and is now doing this alone after her husband passed away within days of Christmas this year. We carry twice (or maybe three times) as much food to this house, so we start to realize how desperate this family must feel. Watch your feet when you’re walking, the bridge we’re about to cross on foot is wobbly and you certainly don’t want to fall into the water that’s below you!

Here, you will see sweet Anne and her three daughters. Again, we are thankful that no children are in sight because it means that they are in school. However, Anne’ door is open and we are able to see partially inside where her three daughters are working (or cooking, I couldn’t really tell). My heart sinks a little when I realize that this is all there is to their house… And soon, nine children will be coming home to share this room… Tonight, thirteen of them will sleep in this small space, smaller than the kitchen that doesn’t even get used in my house. As we begin to chat with Anne, it is clear that her grief for her husband’s death still feels unbearable… For just the second time in four months, I witness a Ghanaian showing signs of sadness… Soon, this grows into tears, and I want to weep myself. With Etronam (a single mother who is currently living with the Beebe’s) translating, we learn that the grandfather’s funeral will be next week, and that there will be a great deal of family coming to this area to be present for the day. In asking if they had any specific needs, they simply said “everything.” Oh Lord, “everything” lies only in your hands… As Robin prays for their family, the appreciation seeps from Anne’s pores… As she cries into Robin’s shoulder and tries to convey feelings to us as best she can, it is clear how much she appreciates the consistency and blessing of the Beebe’s presence in her life. When we go to walk away, none of us wants to go… How do you walk away from someone with so much need? Though discussing if there is more to do for Anne today or more specific ways we can help, we decide that after the funeral is over will be a better time to do an analysis of the financial and emotional needs of this family.

How are you feeling about this car ride now? Does your heart hurt a little? Keep your chin up, there’s still more to see…

Soon we reach Mya’s house, tucked away behind a small shop and what appeared to be a large building of some kind. Out front, people are gathered under canopies for a church service. Why people are at church on a Thursday afternoon, I have no idea… But sometimes, I’ve learned it’s best to not ask questions.

Mya greets me as I am walking towards her house and takes the gari out of my hands to carry it for me. She is a small and sweet looking girl, probably not any older than 25 years old and probably over a foot shorter than I am (which I suppose isn’t saying that much). We approach her house, and it seems to be the same old story… A small mud hut that we know sleeps 3-4 people on a given night. As Robin and Reid begin talking to Mya, she tells them that she has gotten a job working for a hotel in another part of the city. While this seems to be good news, we then realize this means she is gone for 3-4 days a week, as she stays the night when she is there… What about her two kids? “Oh, my older brother comes to take care of them…” However, she also begins talking of her eldest son and the difficulties they have been having. “He’s just stubborn… I’m thinking I should send him away to live with Evan” (a man who runs a children’s home in Accra). No, no, no, scream Robin’s eyes… Please. That’s not the answer. I see Etronam wander 20 feet down the plot of land and stand with her toes almost in the water… The water that is grey, murky, and polluted. When she learns that Mya is paying 35 cedis (or about $18) per month for rent, her eyes get big and she scoffs… “In my village, no one would even pay 15 cedis for this place! Probably no one would want to live there, no matter if it was free!” It’s hard to hear that now, aside from paying rent that is probably too high (yet determined by corrupt landlords), this woman is living in a place that people from her own country would deem unlivable…

After Robin and Lola console Mya about her son and work to convince her that sending her son with Evan is not the best option for their family, we pray and head back to the car. Even though I was never even introduced, Mya hugs me tight as I leave… I pray that even if she doesn’t know my name, she knows that I have come today to share Jesus with her. You did too, and you might not have even realized it.

As we piled back into the car to head back into the main part of Accra, little Godwin crawled on my lap and it was all I could do to not squish his guts out… I sat in the back of the car silent, holding this little boy and thankful for him and his adopted family. Thankful for the people who are taking care of the children who have been left alone on this planet... the children whose lives have been given a price tag as they are sold to slave masters… the children who just want to be loved. Since you’re sitting next to me, you might see the tears begin to trickle down my face. Don’t ask me any questions… I’m not ready to talk yet. Give me some time to write a blog post and then maybe I’ll have my emotions figured out.

As Chorkor started to drift into our rearview mirrors, I worked to gain my composure. I don’t know what I am supposed to take away from today… A small picture of the extreme grief and desperation that so many people in our world are in? Images of Anne crying that break my heart a thousand times over? Knowledge of this polluted water and subpar living conditions? I don’t know what to do with any of this yet…

What I do know is that when Robin asks us to describe our day in one word, my word is “Jesus.” Seeing His face on the bags and boxes of food that were delivered… Feeling His presence as Anne was both stirred up and comforted buy our presence… Humbled by the opportunity to work in His ministry for another day… I can’t explain this as well as I want to in the car, as I can hear my voice begin to quaver and the tears threaten to flow again. Instead I will hug little G and flash these images through my mind over and over…

These pictures are real. This pain is real. These people are real. And this Jesus is real. What to do with all of this, I’m still not so sure…

Firsts & Freak Outs

Even after being in this country for four months, I am continuing to experience a number of “firsts,” which has led to a funny week.

For example, yesterday was my first time driving in Ghana! I was on a mission with Auntie Lucy and Auntie Lydia to go get measured for a dress, and as we approach the car, Lydia is like “Oh Kathy, you drive!” Ok… Doesn’t sound like a big deal. But to get from our house to the main road, you have to navigate a ridiculous road that is covered in big holes and rocks. Then, once you reach the main road, people drive FAST! This was another first… Almost getting killed. Haha I pulled out much too close to the cars that were coming behind us, forgetting how fast they were driving… Although I got laughed at a lot by the girls, we all lived to tell the tale, so that was a blessing! I only drove on that road for maybe three minutes before we took the turn to head back into the bush in search of the woman who was taking our measurements.

Leading to another first… Visiting the home of someone who really does live in a mud hut. We pulled up to this sweet woman’s house and were greeted by the woman, a man who looked like her brother rather than her husband, and two young children (maybe ages 5 and 7). The children immediately hopped out of their chairs and presented them to Lucy and I. Everyone was speaking in Twi so I didn’t catch much of the conversation, only “short sleeve or long sleeve,” “straight dress,” and the body parts they were measuring… Plus a few “obruni” and “daabi’s” (“white person” and “no”) thrown in. Again, I got laughed at a couple of times simply because I didn’t know what was going on… As frustrating as it is to be made fun of simply because I don’t know the language, it happens often at school as well so eventually you just have to get over it (or get really angry every time it happens, which does no good).

But during this time of observing, I simply spent time looking around me… Looking at the pieces of scrap metal somehow held together to create a bathing area in the corner, as well as a cooking area right in front of me… We sat outside as the sun slowly sunk over the hills, listening to the scratchy radio that served as the entertainment as the sun set on us… Understanding that the light they brought out to do our measurements is probably rarely used by this family… Watching the kids run and chase each other around the plot of land, because there isn’t much else to do… Making eye contact with the young girl, only to have her quickly shift her eyes to the ground while smiling… Wondering what happened to this family during the huge rain storm we had last Saturday… These people live maybe a 15 minute drive from my front door, but they live a completely different life from me. And that makes my heart hurt a little.

Yesterday morning, I found myself angry at my job at school… Frustrated by kids who I wanted to know more than they do, and confused about why it had to be MY job to teach all these kids to read. Yes, I want them to be able to read… I just didn’t want to be the one to do it. “God, I don’t like this calling. I know I don’t really get to say that. But it’s how I feel! I don’t want to be the one that you asked to do this job.”

But then I venture across the road… Where plenty of our children live… and see two kids who I would gladly sit with in the dirt and try to sound out words. We could use a few books to read over and over, getting them excited about reading, and write new words in the dirt when these books got old.

It shouldn’t be any different in my classroom. When I stop for a minute and think about where Sandra goes home to every night or what Belinda already accomplished in the morning before she made it to school, it makes me feel a little better about sitting next to them and trying to get them to read to me, because these words might be the key to their futures. When I remember that Evelyn, John, Dora, and Abigail were rescued by City of Refuge because they were in living situations where their basic needs weren’t being met, I realize that it’s not a hindrance to be leading their reading groups, but a blessing. It’s still not where I would necessarily choose for myself in this world, but that doesn’t make it bad. It does make it hard… But hard doesn’t equal bad.

Then I remember that my job virtually ends on March 29^th… After that point, Caty will be here for a week (during which I will only be in school 2 or 3 days), then the students have a week of studying for final exams, during which I don’t hold classes, and then there is a week of final exams before Term 2 ends. After a three-week break ending in the middle of May (at which point there are 4 weeks until I leave), I will be training the teacher (sweet Nina, whom we all adore!) who will take my job once I leave. Eventually, I will be handing things over to her as I begin to disengage and create a little bit of a distance between myself and the school so that I can emotionally deal with leaving. On June 8^th, I board a plane to Spokane. Wait… What?! How does that all come so fast?! That leaves me with no much time to establish a routine and program that can continue to bring success for these kids… They are the ones who will be here even after I leave, and it’s my job to set them up for success with that!

I can’t think too much about that or I freak out… Always feeling like I should be doing more, always feel like it’s my job to fix everything, always feeling like the weight lies on my shoulders. But, thank God, it doesn’t… None of it does… I am simply a tool that is being used to do God’s work in this classroom, not the one doing it myself… Not the one in charge… Not the one who knows the futures of all these students and not the one giving them strength to make it through every day. That doesn’t mean I’m totally off the hook, but it does help bring down my heart rate a little.

“It’s good, everything will turn out like it should… I know that I’m gonna get it a little bit right, a little bit wrong, still I’m gonna sing my song it’s good, so good, like it should be…”-Katelyn Tarver, “It’s Good”

Thankful that I have the grace to sing this song… The ability to know that no matter what, He makes all things work together for His good…