…there’s a glue rat trap just hanging out on your desk, stacked nicely with other books. (this one is, obviously, not in use but will be soon!)
…there’s a pig foot in your deep freezer. Yep.
….you have 110 outlets right alongside 220 outlets. To be fair, this is not a Papua wide thing. It is a super awesome perk of living in an MAF house. I can plug all of my appliances from the U.S. right into the wall!
Water dripping off his head:
My head leaking!
Out of the blue:
There’s chicken in my toe.
His word for a lollipop that is also a treat for going potty:
Our Easter was quiet and peaceful which was just right for us after the mounting culture fatigue we’d been feeling (On a sidenote: we are doing much better in this regard! Thank you for your prayers!)
We had a quiet morning at home as a family where we read the Easter story together and Elias opened his Easter basket. And then, we met the Marx Family outside for a yummy breakfast of cinnamon rolls, eggs and breakfast sausage, plus an Easter egg hunt for the kiddos.
Elias especially loved the egg hunt. He’s been asking to do it again every since! Love my little monkey.
It came out of no where and hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was putting Elias to bed a couple of week ago, watching him slowly breath in and out as I sang “Soft Kitty” for the 32nd time, and suddenly I felt sad for him. Sad that it is Spring and we’re not going to the zoo; we’re not running out for ice cream; we’re not enjoying spring flowers after a long Winter; and we’re not spending Easter with our family. Instead, we’re here, in the tropics, doing the same things we did the day before. There are no shopping trips to Target, or playdates to the park.
Yes, life overseas has a beauty and simplicity of it’s own. But in that moment, I was sad for my son. For everything that’s he’s missing…for everything that I’m missing.
One evening rolled into another, and I couldn’t shake this sadness, this fatigue of the life we live. I dragged myself to the store because it was necessary, but also knowing that I would once again be deflecting hands away from Elias’ sweet face that people can’t seem to stop pinching despite his cries of “NO!”
Sigh, culture fatigue. It’s one of the side effects of moving an ocean away from all that is familiar. The shock has worn off now, but fatigue is it’s nasty replacement.
I am grateful though. I am grateful for the reminder that this place, the planet earth, is not our home. We were made for a place greater than this. We were made to serve the One who is the greatest of all. So while my culture fatigue will wax and wane, My God remains ever the same. He gives me strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. And so we press on…
I don’t really have words for this yet. It’s been ruminating in my head for over a week, and still, no words….
Just over a week ago, we were invited to go to Turumo where there was a huge feast to celebrate the coming of the missionaries (not us…the missionaries that actually live there. We were mostly just observers.)
Nearly 30 years ago, this tribe of people started asking for missionaries to come live with them. 30 years!
And it’s finally happened. A team of three families (who you’ve heard about on this blog before) has built homes, and moved to live in the HOT, sticky, bug-infested jungle.
What better reason than that to party??
This is where I lose my words. How do I describe this party that is so far from anything that I know to be familiar? How do I describe to you the chanting, and the smoke, and the mud smeared on faces, and slaughtering of pigs? I don’t have enough words to convey what all happened. Nor do I have the cultural understanding to see the significance of it.
What I do have is pictures…so I will leave you with these: