You say you really want to be different... to make a difference...

Do you ever stumble across a blog post (or series) that really makes you stop, sit back and just think? And then recognize that you've been going about some things all wrong?

Rebekah at the orphanage she tries to visit every week.

This one did that for me - and I'm not even sure how I happened upon it... 

1. Listening well as a person of privilege: Recognize that the rules are different for you
2. Listening well as a person of privilege: Solidarity first, collaborative problem-solving later

Even the titles provoke thought, don't they... like: Why or why not do you identify yourself as a person of privilege?

This blog post as well (written by my very sweet friend), also challenges ideas along these same lines: 

• Just because I am a person of privilege, does that mean my perspective is better or more right or more valid? 
• Can I be trying to help and still be motivated by my own selfish desires and agenda?

I'd love it if you took the time to read - 

and share some of your thoughts afterwards.

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 8} - Multitude Monday ~ A photo titled Afua's Hands

"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful. They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master. You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear." I Peter 3.3-6

As I meditate on this verse (for over a week now), my eye tends to skip over and among the words... most of them, in fact, except...? Except for the words highlighted above. 

What is God trying to say to me?

That's one of a few refrains humming through my mind these days.

 Another one, almost as loud and definitely more discordant, is...

 I leave for Ghana in just 8 days.

Yikes! I'm not ready... yet... I hope I will be! I'm working to that end and battling internet, electricity, busyness and exhaustion issues.

In one of those exhausted moments, I started googling photos of Ghana. For those of us working here in Niamey, Ghana, particularly Accra, seems like "everything I ever dreamed of but haven't been able to get here." Stories of malls, bowling, movie theaters, ice cream that I didn't have to make, the sounds and sights of beautiful beaches with waves rolling and crashing (that isn't stinky flood water).... I'm pretty sure it can't be all people's stories want to build it into being, at least in my mind. The grass really isn't always that much greener, eh?

Nevertheless, I am looking forward to this trip (as long as I don't dwell on that airplane ride required to get there). I'm looking forward to a change of scenery. I'm even looking forward to missing my gang and I'm relishing a professional challenge.

While googling images, I stumbled across this picture and an online photo art gallery from one of my favorite photojournalists, Phil Grout. In the gallery was a photo titled Afua's Hands. 

Immediately entranced and enchanted, I just stared... and stared... and stared some more. Grout himself says, "Hope carves trails in an old woman's hands then plows furrows up her arms, and all trails lead back home...” Can't you just see that in this photo?

I love hands. They fascinate me. Hands motivate me to wonder, not just because of the amazing things people do with their hands or because of the intricate simplicity they manifest, but also because they provoke my imagination. I imagine all sorts of stories - beginnings, middles and endings and I long to know their story... the story of the one to whom they belong. I particularly love looking at the hands of some of the amazing aged women I've met.

Jesus' hands tell an amazing story... 

...one of gentle strength, grace, love and amazing sacrifice. 

I can't wait to hold those hands some day.

Then my two thought melodies (somewhat fearful anticipation mixed together with Scripture truth that gentle, quiet spirits do not give way to fear) began to harmonize as I stared.

Those hands, Afua's hands, that continue to work, that continue to do good in caring for and providing for their families and communities... 

 holding children, 

  comforting the sick, 

    preparing meals, 

      harvesting grain or cocoa beans, 

        drawing water, 

             scrubbing clothes, 

                 mending buttons, 

                    pounding millet, 

                      gathering eggs, 

                         sweeping dust, 

                            slowly scripting letters and learning to write her name,

                               scrubbing toilets, 

                                  steering land cruisers, 

                                     chopping onions and garlic, 

                                         folding in prayer, 

                                            turning pages of His Word - 

...hands that keep on working, 

...finding reasons to be thankful,

...and hoping - 

despite drudgery, depression, desperation and discouragement...

I hope my hands tell a similar story, just as beautifully, some day.

What story do you imagine 
when you see the beautiful, aged hands of Afua... or others like her?

this week's gratitude list:

(#'s 3176 - 3195)

hands

young hands full of hopes and dreams and promise

old hands full of wrinkles, pronounced veins, dry skin and age spots speaking of hopes realized, future dreams and promises kept

the stories those hands can tell

amazing photographs

nervous anticipation

the beginning of a softball tournament

the end of that same softball tournament

the most delish hamburger relish, EVER

partners in crime

remembering to use humor when diffusing sibling arguments

cool nights when the AC isn't working

hearing all of those songs from the 80s over the weekend

job accomplished

two awesome catches at home plate for two great outs

kids cheering for their daddy

a Monday not to fear (for even the white man fears Monday, as they say here), since it meant sleeping in and no school

a three day work week

the challenge of this 31 day writing project and the things God is speaking quietly into my spirit in what I both read and write

Entering a 31 Day Grand Prix {day 1}

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 2} - the wordless book, a flute and a song

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 3} - "Aw Dad! Stop ruining my life!"

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 4} - gentleness on deck

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 5} - Five Minute Friday ~ Welcome
A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 6} - Is there time to {gently} home school and be a missionary, too? Pt 1

A 31 Day Grand Prix {day 7} - Is there time to {gently} home school and be a missionary, too? Pt 2

So this is what it is...

...life with a teenager.

He leaves for school at 7 in the morning (Since we are in a carpool, we only have to drive twice a week... in the morning... to his school.)

I did see him for a few hours this afternoon - but I was also busy with our first day of the swimming/water polo phys ed unit and 40ish students.

He caught his own ride back to the school for orchestra practice after swimming classes were done.

After he was dropped at the Rec Center this afternoon, he did come and get his littlest sister for awhile... and caught my eye to come and take her back when she started fussing.

And then he was off again to play volleyball with his friends.

Fortunately, he's pretty responsible about making sure his homework is done and arranging for his own transportation!

I hope he'll be home before I wilt for the night - so I can hear about his day!

Wordless Wednesday (Part II) ...and I used to think we were crowded, 9 of us in a hatchback Toyota Corolla...

Prayer Request

Please join with us in praying for one of the families with whom we carpool. Monday, their daughter was taken to Ghana for medical consultations (CAT scan) due to complications from malaria that seem to be affecting her vision.

Then Monday afternoon, their son was in a motorcycle accident - banged up pretty badly and broke his collarbone.

Thinking about this from the perspective of a mama - I can't imagine: 2 children in the hospital in two different countries, limited communication...

I know this family would appreciate your prayers.

Nothing profound or truly significant...

...just some random musings over several things from the past few days -

Carpooling - that is a new experience for us. I mean, I used to be in a carpool when I was a student, but now I'm seeing it from a parent's perspective. I'm so thankful - for many reasons, but in particular - we only have to drive once or twice/day instead of like last year, where sometimes we were running 4-5 times in a day. Another benefit - I think - Tim bought me a cell phone. He says it is so he can keep track of me as I'm running kids all over town. I like one of the games that is programmed into it - and just yesterday, I beat Tim's high score.

It is also fun, interesting and often eye opening to listen to what is going on in the back seats...

I've learned about IPods (I'm still not sure if I love or hate technology), softball strategies, the "good" tv shows - which include 24, Monk, Survivor, Lost... and M.A.S.H. as well as Little House on the Prairie (it is quite the eclectic group), what so and so had in their lunch, who shared what with whom, what constitutes the perfect lunch/snack to take to school, and birthday party themes for the next decade,... I'm still learning the routes to take to avoid the worst potholes so the kids in the back don't get sea sick and thanking the Lord frequently for the blessing of our Land Cruiser.

Tori had my favorite first day of school moment - as I left her at her classroom, she solemnly turned, shook my hand and said, "Bye Mom. Have a good day. See you later." It is easy to forget she's only 4 sometimes. But, reality is also setting in - the fact that she's going to school every day, all morning and a few afternoons a week, too. I was worried about her this morning as she was needing some significant attitude adjusting and struggling with this new reality; but God had already taken care of everything, even before I knew to start praying - one of the older missionary girls is doing a community service project in her classroom, and it is one of the girls that Victoria really likes! So she is all excited about school again and was just beaming as I left her this afternoon.

Hopefully, I'll post some photos of the girls soon - we "tressed" their hair in honor of the beginning of the new school year and they look really cute!

Our freezer is broken, yet again. This is a frustrating annoyance that seems to occur every 3-4 months. Fortunately, the majority of what I had in it was flour and the rest we were able to cram into the little freezer above the fridge. But, we don't know if it is repairable this time or what we will do if it isn't (i.e. buy another one??).

I did find "Millenium Cookies" at the store today, however - that is the occasionally available oreo cookie mimic - something we've not seen for over a year. So I picked up a couple of packages and the kids and Tim promptly devoured them after lunch.

I'm remembering how much I love to be a student myself, as I've started back into "school," taking Zarma language classes. Tim is loving all the extra time at the studio.

Jonathan and I are working on his speech a bit, and I'm also teaching him some signs to help him with his communication frustrations and we are seeing some improvement. He is really missing having his siblings around, but I think he's enjoying the extra time with me and he listens intently for the slam of the gate that announces someone's arrival at home. I'm finding that Tues/Thurs afternoons may be a really nice time to take my two little ones to the pool, ...

but a bit sad as the house is very quiet and lonely since summer vacation is now completely and irrevocably over.