What the Swiss are Hiding

It's chocolate.

Did you really think I was going to talk about politics? That, like riding motorcycles without a helmet, and eating bleu cheese in the evening, are strictly prohibited.

By my husband. But he is away.

But I will be good.

Back to the Swiss: a dear friend here (who happens to be Swiss) invited the kids and me for dinner tonight. It was delicious. Those of you who know my dislike of long conversations will be surprised that I can talk with this woman for hours. I don't even know what we talk about. I just know I enjoy her company immensely. Her husband is a missionary pilot who is sleeping in the bush somewhere tonight, so we felt an immediate kinship since my husband is sleeping in a nice hotel somewhere tonight. But I'm not bitter about that.

Anyway, it was a lovely evening. Looking in her refrigerator as we prepared dinner, I noticed a slightly orange glow coming from the top drawer. Where most people keep yogurt, or leftover salami. But don't keep them together, or the salami will make the yogurt taste dodgy.

Much to my delight, the glow was caused by the chocolate pictured above. When I asked to take a photo of it, she covered up some other chocolate that was not Swiss. "Someone sent it to us" she apologized for the lesser cacao delight. I found the whole experience hilarious, and made a note to include eating Swiss chocolate in my "things to do the next time I'm a place where Swiss chocolate is available."

In other news:

The kids and I were in the banda this morning, reading and playing Dolch word bingo (if you've never played Dolch word bingo, you're missing out! It's never too late to start.) and playing a few rounds of Rory's Story Cubes.

After a few minutes, we saw this bee:

Although we just studied insects after finding another dead bee, we took a moment to study this one.

I flipped it over with my finger after a few minutes, to show the kids its wings.

And to our dismay, it started crawling around, and flew away. I kid you not. It's a miracle!

Our friend Esther came to play in the last week; she and Henry had fun feeding our rabbit. His name is Flopsy Hopsy and we inherited him from some friends who left recently.

We call him Flops, or just Flop, most of the time. We are all about syllabic conservation here.

One of my favorite things we brought with us was this hammock. It's made in a village in Mexico, where they grow cotton and make amazing hammocks from long, thin cotton threads. Pay no attention to the grammatical errors on their website. You may not fully understand this until you live in a country where you have the language of a two year-old. The hammock is amazing. And strong. All four of us can fit in it, and the kids enjoy cocooning in it while I swing them to and fro.

Henry picked some fruit from one of our trees. I can't remember the name of it (see language deficiency reference above), but it is safe, and tastes kind of citrus-y. Here he is washing the fruit before we gobble it up.

We've been following the Bible curriculum of The Gospel Project. We recently talked about Adam and Eve, and sin, and repentance (what parent of a five year-old doesn't talk about this weekly?). Here is Ruby's interpretation of the moment Adam and Eve realized their sin in the garden. At the bottom, Adam and Eve are in heaven. It is very important to Ruby that stories have a happy ending. I love that girl.

Chalkboard Today

I think the kids may be a little homesick.

August Tanka

Once pitiable,
these simple blind eyes, aging,
confess arrogance
and see now not dearth's house
but one upright, in paradise.


(c) 2012 Laura Devaisher

Hard to Get

"When are you going to write again?"

I've heard that several times lately, and the answer is that I've been writing more than I have in a long time. My journal runneth over. The problem is, the road hasn't been feeling so lovely lately.

Let me say before I go any further: we are doing fine. God gives us what we need to get through each day, and through pain comes real growth. We are thankful for that.

There has been a lot of heavy stuff happening this summer. The kind of private, painful stuff you don't post about on blogs. Many subsequent conversations between God and me are similar to this:

"Are you kidding me, God? That's the best you can do?"
"Trust me, Laura..."
"Trust? The job you're doing? I think it's pathetic. PATHETIC."

I thank God he doesn't stoop to my level of argument. He is so patient. I would be terrible at being God. When I am honest through this answer-seeking process, I admit that part of my problem is that I DO want to tell God what to do. How arrogant. How...pathetic.

Please understand. I fear God. I know nothing happens without passing through God's hands. And frankly, sometimes that irritates me. That God knew something horrible was going to happen, could have stopped it at any moment, and chose not to is disgusting to me. And it's been happening to people we love, week after week, all summer long.

I'm not interested in anemic, answerless faith. I don't like blind faith or cheap grace. I need a logical path from point A to point B. I want God to make sense. Right now.

This summer has been a time of reflection and, in many ways, renewal.

I remember 25 years ago it was summer, and my parents were taking me to FCA leadership camp at St. Simon's Island, Georgia. They were to drop me off and continue to Florida for a rare week of vacation, then pick me up on their way back through.

We arrived at the camp, unloaded my bag and went to the registration table. Someone handed my parents a letter. I didn't think much of it. My Dad said something about needing to call home and disappeared for a few minutes. When he came back, he wasn't smiling and talked with my Mom privately for a few minutes, then they talked to me.

"Your sister has fallen down some stairs and we need to get home right away." There was also something about a possible seizure and surgery. And cancer. It was a lot to process in that busy, loud room with so much commotion.

They had already decided that I should stay at camp and spoke with the organizers about our situation and to see if anyone would be driving north after camp. Most of the leaders that week were college students at Carson-Newman College in Tennessee. They somehow, instantaneously, got the hundred or so people in that chaos into a circle, briefly explained the situation, and dropped down to the floor in prayer. Loud, crying out to God prayer I had never experienced before. I still get teary-eyed thinking about that moment so many strangers loved us.

My sister died about five years after that, after having a baby and fighting cancer. God and I tangled through the aftermath. It got messy.

I tell you all this because it has taken me much of 25 years to find a Point B in that situation. Not only to move past the point of feeling that God was somehow sick and sadistic, but to see how God was working through the midst of the pain and chaos to bring good for those who love him. I'm sure there are still lessons to be realized from that process.

Back to the present set of questions and doubts...where are the good answers? I'm going to keep talking to God, and keep waiting for answers and sense and peace for hurting hearts. I'm going to keep interceding in prayer between my friends and my God, because I saw the power of it 25 years ago and have seen it many times since.

And I'm going to be thankful that God understands me better than I understand him.

An Act of God

This weekend's events were plenty exciting, and some of those moments are posted here, but I wanted to make a separate post about the found shoe.

I'm not a fan of songs about shoes or even a big fan of shoes lately, but this is a story about God and a shoe. A story that I need to tell.

After we caught our breath from the dangerous current incident on Saturday, we all went for a swim in the lagoon part of the sea. Sitting between the beach and a large table of coral rock, it becomes a very nice pool except at the highest tide.

All the shoes and personal items were piled on the beach, safely away from the water. However, when we got out to go to dinner, one shoe was missing. It was a child's Croc with crocodile eyes and he was visibly saddened that it was missing. After a search around the beach area, everyone went in, and the shoe was considered lost.

Wanting to milk each minute of daylight, I stayed out and said, "God, it would really show your greatness if you let us find that shoe."

Now, know that I did mean what I prayed. I knew that it would take an act of God to find the shoe in that terrain. It wasn't brightly colored, it blended in with the rocks, and there were literally a million places, covering several acres, that it could have been. I had time to cover less than 100 square meters.

As I picked my way over the razor-sharp rocks and mussels, in wonder at the tide pools, I repeated my prayer that the shoe be revealed. I wanted the young man who lost it to know that God cares about big and small stuff.

It was slow going over the rocks, and at one point I paused, turned around and looked down...and there was that crocodile-green shoe stuck down inside a rock formation. Only from that very spot, looking in that direction, could it have been seen. I admit that I paused a few seconds before carefully moving down to work it out of the crevice. Really, God? Really??!!

Yes, really. We serve the God who created the oceans, who knows every crevice of every seabed and shore, and every crevice of our hearts. He reveals what we need, when we need it. And we can trust him to be working for the good of those who love him, in big things and small things. All the time.

From Intensity to Heavenly Intensity

 There has been some intensity in our lives lately. Work intensity. School intensity. Autism intensity. Volunteer job intensity. Hurt people hurting people intensity.

To celebrate the end of school, we hoped to take the kids to the beach. Some friends who are leaving for the summer suggested an overnight with our families, and it turned into this trip. Forty-eight hours at a remote beach, in the bush. The house we stayed in is kind of like camping, with beautiful simplicity. No electricity (but generator 3 hours a day), gravity-fed water, the house has giant folding doors/grates that open up to the ocean.

This is wild ocean. All of history, from the beginning of earth, is in here. That's part of what I love about it. It puts me in perspective. My life could come and go a million times in the life of this ocean.

And it's mine to explore, to see what it will show me this weekend.

Hiking along am outer rock wall as the tide comes in is breathtaking.

Massive coral rock tables edge in from the north and form tide pools at low tide, and the incoming tide crashes magnificently against them.

 I was happy to get this shot of a grey heron fishing as I came back from peeking into dozens of tidal pools.

It was a full moon weekend, and it felt like that. Just...different. My autism mamas know what I'm talking about. Like you've regressed two years overnight.

Treasures of the tide pools included lots of coral reef nurseries like this one. All kinds of wrasses, other fishes large and small...

...brittlestar. These are like starfish but they wave their thinner arms around more freely.

The dreaded sea urchin. They are a sign of imbalance in the reef. I have stepped on one of these barefoot before, but no more...they are no match for my water boots. (It is my goal, however, to kill nothing, not even plants, on my little excursions. Jainists, Buddhists and my newly-turned-pacifist son Henry, who recently began protesting the killing of ants and mosquitoes, are quite relieved at this.)

Acres and acres of pools like these, many connected under the rock, many others perfect aquariums full of surprises.

My water boots (protective booties with tough, treaded soles) paid for themselves this weekend on three good hikes over this razor-sharp rock, stalking herons and kingfishers. It was on one of these hikes that I spotted a snake-eel over a meter long.

During the calm of low tide, you can hear the clicking of a thousand tiny legs as dozens of crab varieties make their way to food, and often become food themselves.

Henry's always ready to go to the beach. He's my beachcombing buddy and is great at finding sea treasure.

Ruby and Len resting a moment before heading back out.

The lot of us walking at an exceptionally low tide Sunday morning. They have just walked across the channel from the camera to the rocks, and that channel will become a dangerously deep trench as the tide comes later.

This is a local fishing hut, where fishermen live and store materials while they're working.

We had some intensity Saturday when a friends' son playing in the surf was suddenly pulled way out by a strong current. Len and his friend Simon went after him with an inflatable surfboard, being pulled in different directions as the wind picked up and the tide came in.

After swimming full-on for several minutes, they were able to get the boy and each other holding on to the board. But they were not able to get in - they were exhausted, fighting wind and current and waves crashing over them every few seconds, and doing their best to hold on as they swam and got nowhere. Simon's wife ran for help and some local workers were able to bring everyone in safely. Very thankful for my husband today.

This ornate spiny lobster was laying neatly inside a tall tide pool as I hiked around afterwards. It's only the shell of the head and upper body - something (I'm guessing a heron or fish eagle) had just picked it clean underneath.

God must have been feeling creative when he designed ornate spiny lobsters.

Near where I found the turtle bones pictured below:

One especially cool find in the rocky pools was this sea turtle skeleton. There were several other pieces too large to carry back, but you get the idea. The irregular pieces are the breastplate bones, the others are upper shell plates/bones. Each of these is at least a foot long. I love finding stuff like this and sharing with the kids.

Can you imagine how huge this thing was? each bone was about two pounds, and I estimate this is about 20 percent of the total skeleton.

As the tide moves in and out, dozens of waterfalls like this one form in the rocks. The sound and sights are surreal, and this weekend was as well. Perspective-giving. Sometimes we need to get away from the world and just listen to God, while immersed in his art.

Henry is Five

He may be six by the time I post this. Poor kid.

Ruby and Henry each wanted smaller, age-specific parties this year. For Henry's, we had several of his best mates over for an afternoon of food, games and general revelry.

The kids loved fighting with water balloons. The little guy whose feet are visible in the upper left of this photo, Josiah, is super quick and never got touched, despite drenching most of the others with his great aim.

 I love this photo...Henry doesn't realize he's about to be soaked!

 Activities for the kids included a scavenger hunt, for which Myrtle, our tortoise, was supposed to be the big-ticket item. Myrtle, usually extremely reclusive, thwarted my plans by appearing in the middle of the yard in full view, before they were even looking for him.

Please pardon Myrtle's bare bottom. We're not sure what's going on there.

Fortunately, the boys were thrilled to feed Myrt a tomato.

 For about thirty seconds. Then they wanted more games.

One unplanned activity I went with, because it was happening anyway and because the boys loved it, was building a huge fort out of all our furniture, cushions and blankets. Boys are so non-complicated.

 Henry has started having tea most afternoons. Ruby often makes it for him. No joke. He prefers masala tea, black with sugar. He is very particular about the sugar spoon and the stirring spoons being separated. He is very much his father's child.

 Ruby had a sleepover with her best pal Happy on Henry's birthday, and Henry had his pal James over as well. Not one to spend excess time or money on a cake, I drew a Superman H on his cake with colored frosting we brought from the states, and he was thrilled. Boys are SO low maintenance!

 Collaborative Lego game, where each kid got a bag of legos and passed around a creation they took turns building. I love that five countries are represented by children in this photo.

 It was one of those steamy-hot days we get used to during rainy season, and it did rain on and off all day. When it wasn't, we played another water game with sponges and buckets outdoors. Must. Get. Loud. Children. Outdoors.

Ruby and Happy having a quieter moment before the wildness set in.

Our son. He's five.

Five years and some days ago, I drove myself to the hospital (after Ruby was born, we decided there really wasn't much reason to have the whole family there all day), and thirteen hours later, our sweet, strong, smart son was born. I love this little person!

Lovely Week

This is the stuff dreams are made of: one week ago today, my friend Sharon emailed with the question, "Can we stop by and see you for a day or so this weekend?"

Now, Sharon, her husband Brad and their children have all been to Africa. They know that coming to Dar is not 'stopping by' even on the way to Ethiopia, their destination. The expense. An extra day away from home. They had every reason not to come and visit us.

But they did anyway.

We were thrilled to host them in our home:

 Making a 48 hour itinerary that includes rest and relaxation is not as easy as it sounds. We managed to get in several of our favorite places and people, but time limited us. We did roll them into a Saturday night Scottish Summer Ceilidh with some dear friends, which was fun. Also, tea at one of our favorite local spots, Mediterraneo. Sharon thought she was safely out of this shot:

 Mediterraneo is right on the Indian Ocean, and is one of the most peaceful spots I've found locally. The kids can play endlessly with coconut shells and other sea treasures they find, and the sound and sight of the water and parade of local fishermen walking by are both soothing and interesting.

 I really thought about kidnapping Brad and Sharon at this point. Two things hindered me: they were headed to Ethiopia to pick up their son, and also the traffic in Dar does not allow us to go fast enough to keep them from jumping out. I decided to preserve our friendship, and the moment, with a photo instead.

 After church Sunday morning (I took some photos not included here of the Bonnetts talking to some of our friends here...I think that's what heaven might look like!), we took them to another favorite local spot, Interchick, where for $5 or so you can get half a barbequed chicken and chips (french fries). The people behind Len are preparing for a wedding reception.

 Bonnetts on the beach:

 And then they were gone. There were so many things we would love to show our friends who come over, as well as those who don't. Reservations are still being accepted!!

Monday we had a special Pentecost SalaSala, combining the Monday and Tuesday groups into one with some special activities. Grace (middle) and Winston led a funny rendition of the electric slide. African kids love to dance!

 Dear friends Laura and Shaun talking to the kids...their two families spearhead the ministry. One thing I love about it is that there is nothing asked in return. Just come, be loved, hear about Jesus, go home, repeat next week.

 Ruby and Henry at SalaSala with their pal James.

 Loving the crayons and working in a group. These kids are working much of the time, and they get to come and just be children at SalaSala club each week.

 The aforementioned dancing...shy kids come to life when music plays! The little one in the orange skirt brings her younger sibling (next to her) on her back each week.

 There were about 150 kids this week from my estimate, not counting helpers.

 The children were divided into teams to study the Holy Spirit.

 Oh my GOODNESS I need to get my 'Mama' face on and stop laughing so hard at these antics. The more time I spend with the children, the more I fall in love with them, and with God.

Those days, plus a lot of school, active living, unnecessary drama and being able to laugh about it all puts us another week down the lovely road.