This is from the Middle Aged Mother Goose, I thought it was cute.

Wish I had written this

I recieved this as a forward from my mom. I laughed so hard I almost peed my pants,- which you'll see is a lot like friendship...



Are you tired of those sissy 'friendship' poems?
Well, here is a series of promises that actually speak of true friendship.
You will see no cutesy little smiley faces on this card-
Just the stone cold truth of our great friendship.

1. When you are sad --I will jump on the person who made you sad like a spider monkey jacked up on Mountain Dew!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2. When you are blue -- I will try to dislodge whatever is choking you.

3. When you smile -- I will know you are plotting something that I must be involved in.

4. When you're scared -- we will high tail it out of here.

5. When you are worried -- I will tell you horrible stories about how much worse it could be until you quit whining, ya big baby!!!!

6. When you are confused -- I will use little words.

7. When you are sick --Stay away from me until you are well again. I don't want whatever you have.

8. When you fall -- I'll pick you up and dust you off-- After I laugh my butt off!!

9. This is my oath...I pledge it to the end. 'Why?' you may ask -- because you are my FRIEND!

Friendship is like peeing in your pants,
everyone can see it,
but only you can feel the true warmth.

Back to Basics

Hmmmmm.... I'm hearing big things about money coming from the states. We love our money don't we? Perhaps we've been loving it too much lately.
Yes, I know this issue with the bailout and such is nasty. And they say it could send us into a big recession.
But I'm starting to wonder if that would be so bad. What if, we as Americans were forced to go back to basics. What people lost jobs, and only one parent could work? What if we were forced to go back to small houses, one car families, dinner at home, $25 cable plans, $30 cell phone plans, small family vacations, modest Christmas and working in advance to buy something instead of putting it on credit cards?
What if we didn't have plasma tvs, suv, and plans to retire at 50,... or retire at all?
Yes I know this is a huge issue, I'm not trying to make light of the situation or belittle that people are losing their 401 K plans. I know that is a big deal to them.
But I'm living in a country where 12 year old girls prostitute themselves to go to school. Do your daughters do that?
Here, there is a gogo who has lost her husband, and all 6 children. She is now raising 25 , yes 25 grandchildren on her own in a one room house. Does that look like your life? Not mine!
Here the average life expectancy is 30, and people work until they are too sick to get out of bed.
Women here start their day at half past 4 to build a fire, heat water to bathe, and cook breakfast for their children before riding a public transport kombi to work at 8
I just wish we as Americans would open our eyes and be grateful for what we have instead of fearful that we might loose it all. Maybe we've leaned on our own strength for too long and have forgotten who gave us everything in the first place.
We should start examining our hearts about what really makes us happy, and what is truly important to us.

I know that sounds so harsh, but even in times of recession we are still more fortunate that a huge percentage of the world!
I think our culture spends a lot of time crying over spilt champagne.

Just some pics to enjoy!

Here are some pics from my most recent trip to Mozambique.

This is so awesome!

I love the fact that African women don't play around.
This is a group from church who were baptised last week. Yes, 4 of them are wearing plastic grocery sacks on their heads.
Of course they are! If you spent all of that time/money getting your hair done, you're not going to get it ruined in the water!
This is a common sight in Swaziland on rainy days as well. There's no shame.
It think it's awfully innovated.

Error of the non-moms

Yesterday we got left with a baby at the office. She's the daughter of a great new worker and I'm not sure exactly how, but me, natalie, jesse, sarah, and nomtie kinda found ourselves in charge of her while we did our office work.
That shouldn't be a big deal right? 5 girls should be able to take care of a very clever two-year old right?
Isn't it in our DNA?
That assumption was mistake #1.
Two breasts and a dress do not a mommy make.
We all tag teamed for a while passing her around and enjoying her cleverness. We love her so much! But eventually the playdough came out, the coloring books and crayons, and the teddy bears.
Then we turned out backs.
(That's mistake #2 if you hadn't figured it out.)

Nombtie came into our office laughing. "Shame. I went into the ladies toilet. Tracey was standing there with a soap and a cloth... she was bathing herself in the toilet bowl! I cleaned her up and brought her back"


Baby Tracey was so proud of herself!

Shoprite is my nemesis.
Its whole existence on this planet it to test my patience.
It is CEO-ed by Satan, I swear. Shoprite is the grocery store from HELL!!!!!
I HATE SHOPRITE!!!!
So you can imagine my surprise when I drove into town from Manzini to find all of the roads blocked and thick black smoke billowing up into the sky.
Shoprite was on fire.
I couldn’t help but smile secretly to myself. No, I didn’t do it, but I did fiddle as it burned.
Burn baby burn!!!
But then I tried to go to Spar on Saturday, just to pick up some eggs.
That’s all I needed, just some eggs.
Six simple eggs, maybe to make an omelet or bake something nice to share.
As I rounded the corner of Spar with KB, I stopped dead in my tracks.
My mouth hung open.
Through the front pane windows I could see that every register was open and the queues were stretching down the isles. Each one was 20+ deep.
I couldn’t believe it. I turned around and went back to the car.
Dang you Shoprite! Even in your death you still taunt me!!!!
Curses!!!!

This is special to me!

You know here in Swaziland, I'm part of Healing Place church. This is a plant from the US Healing place, and while it is only 4 months old, it is growing by leaps and bounds.
Yesterday we had a meeting and talked about why so many people are coming and staying, some who don't even speak English. The swazi told us it was because they are feeling loved, and accepted. So even though some might not understand the English sermon, they come again and again because of the love. Our vision is to be a healing place for a hurting world,- we must be doing it right.
Well yesterday HPC had their first baptism service, and 32 people were baptised!
Some were husband and wife, some were mothers and their children, some were my coworkers at the office. It was just so special to see how their lives are changing, and they are growing spiritually. I'm so happy for them!

Culture Shocks: These things just made me smile!

“Christy, KB’s kombi is dead at the spar. We pushed it to the side. I came to get Thabo’s kombi, but it is dead too. It must be this cold rainy weather. Will you take us to rescue KB?”
Okay, no big deal. Nombtie and the guys pile into my truck as we make the short drive to the Spar parking lot.
Happily I found an empty parking spot right next to the kombi. (Kombi batteries aren’t under the hood, but on the side behind the passenger seat.)
So they attempt to stretch the jumper cables from the kombi to my truck only to find out we were about 4 inches too short. The two vehicles needed to be closer together.
So can you guess their solution? Yes, if you read my blog regularly, you already know what I’m going to say.
Get the dead battery kombi closer to my running truck.
4 people stood out in the pouring rain pushing the kombi backwards, and then ran quickly around behind it pushing it forward again as KB steered the wheel closer to my truck.
They cheered triumphantly as the cables reached my battery and after just a moment the kombi was jumped and running.
Nombtie got back into the warm dry truck with me.
“Nombtie…wouldn’t it just have been easier for me to move my truck closer to the kombi?”
She packed up laughing as she realized what the 4 of them had just done. “Oh yes, my baby… That’s funny we did that…. Do you have one of these blog things? You should put it on there to make us laugh. Oh that was so funny.”
Yes is was.


We played this board game the other night where there is a category and you quickly right down as many things as you can and then compare with your partner. You get points for any matches that you have.
Cross-culturally this is a difficult game to play. For example, “Names of football teams” will get responses of “Cowboys, Steelers, Lions, Bears” from an American but “Sharks, and Springboks” [soccer teams] from a Swazi. (Actually those might be rugby teams but you get my point.)
So the category was “Things that people are afraid of”
My list:
Spiders
Snakes
Marriage/commitment
Heights
Death
Cockroaches
My Swazi partner’s list:
Snakes
Shylocks (like a loan shark)
Taking a loan (getting yourself indebted to a shylock)
Diseases.
Wow. It showed me such insight to the differences of the culture. Yeah, who would be afraid of heights, when the shylock who gave you a loan for school fees is charging you 300% interest?



I took two Finnish women to church with me yesterday where we had a great baptism celebration service. Afterwards we ate cake. Now, some of these pieces of cake were hilarious! I think the cutters didn’t consider the height of the cake so they turned out as blocks of cake. They were huge!!!!!
I was laughing with the girls about it. The one said, “Oh… we knew everything is bigger in American… we thought that was just the way you ate them.”

"cake" rhymes with "headache"

I thought it would be a pretty easy task.
Bake a cake. I’ve done it a million times.
But baking a cake in Africa is a whole new ball game
I set my oven to 190C, and was sure to use the upper heating element in my oven. It works better.
I mixed together all of the ingredients like I’d seen my mother do a hundred times.
I greased the pans well, poured in the batter and placed them on the middle rack in the oven.
After 25 minutes the dinger rang and I checked them with a toothpick.
They were very high, but runny all throughout.
What the heck?
Well there were two problems. One, the upper heating element was going out so the oven wasn’t even hot! It was just kinda warming the batter at 50C instead of baking it at 190.
Crap.
The other problem was that I’d forgotten that the flour here is not all purpose flour but self rising flour. So when you add soda to that, it makes it rise super high. (I know you are thinking that is a good thing but it’s not. Read on)
So I decide, okay I’ll turn on the lower heating element and bake it some more.
But now as it begins to heat, the batter continues to rise and now it is overflowing over the pans and onto the hot heating elements on the bottom. There are chocolaty stalactites forming on the pans, pools of chocolate on the bottom of the oven and black smoke is pouring forth from the oven and up rising up into my bedroom.
Double Crap.
So I quickly turn off the bottom element. I’ll turn the top on again, but this time turn it up really high so it reaches 190C.
That sounds like another great idea. I can’t believe how clever I am in a crisis. But the problem is now that the cakes have fallen from their great heights and the super high heat from the element has only succeeded in broiling the cakes.
I was so frustrated I threw them out. But that didn’t’ change the fact that Kristen, Greg, Sarah and Jesse were coming for dinner the next night and I needed a desert.
So the next day I bought cake flour, more soda, and made a second attempt.
But this time I’d run out of sugar.
After a quick trip to the girl’s house, I was in business. I finagled the over right to bake everything nicely.
Happiness at last…until I tried to turn them out. Turns out my cake pans are a bunch of crap and the cakes stuck like mad! I had to literally pry them out with a spatula. I stacked them up and proceeded to try and ice them
Have you ever seen that movie The Hours, where Julianne Moore pretty much has a break down because she is trying to ice a cake and feels like a failure as a woman when she can’t do it? Yeah, that was me! The whole thing was crumbling, and sagging. I pretty much said, “Screw it” and adopted my dad’s frosting technique that resembled spackling more than icing. Lift it, and shove some frosting in between the cracks. A hole? Fill it up and smooth it out.
So in the end of my 2 day ordeal I ended up with one very ugly delicious spackled cake.
But it was a hit with my dinner guests, and the story is one to retell again and again.

It's worth repeating,- published in 2005

Beyond the limits...

People are often surprised to learn that I'm from Flint, Michigan. They've seen it on the news, they've heard about it from others, they've even seen footage of it in Michael Moore movies. I guess I don't fit the image of someone who would come from a town like Flint. It's viewed as poor, violent, oppressive, and hopeless. When I asked a high-school friend about living in Flint, she said, "People don't actually live in Flint...they just exist." Amen to that sister.
Perhaps if these unbelievers had known me 15 years ago, they might have thought differently. As a teenager, I figured I'd go to a community college, marry young, have a few kids, retire at 52 and spend my time sitting on the porch with the friends I'd always had. I'd go to the bowling alley for fun, consider mowing the lawn a hobby, and be content to watch one day pass after another. I'd live for myself, looking for minor amusements in the form of TV or perhaps neighborhood gossip. And best of all I'd make sure I'd always live in Flint, - after all where else was there to go?
To say it best, I had a very "Flint" mentality: My dreams were limited. Because of my finances, life experiences, and self-image, I thought I was reaping all that was available to me, and therefore was content with what I had.
I'm so thankful now, that God was not content with me settling for less than his best. His plan was to use me for so much more than I could ever dream, and He was not content to watch me sit idly by.
I love the perspective Kathryn Kuhlman had on this topic. Once, as a friend protested to holding a church meeting because the ministry only had $5, she said,
"If we serve a God who is limited by our finances, then we are serving the wrong God. He's not limited to what we have or who we are. If he can use somebody like me to bring souls into the kingdom, He can certainly use our five dollars and multiply it just as easily as He multiplied the loaves and fishes for the people on the hillside"
Glory to God! He is not limited! Lack of money, humble beginnings, poor attitude, no education, minuscule bits of self-esteem- none of this inhibits his mighty power! No matter where we came from, or what our past has included, He is still powerful enough to use us as his instrument.
Strangely enough, The Bible says we're in good company. David, Moses, Isaac, Ruth, -even Jesus himself came to service with shadows in their past. I'm sure there was a time when others looked at them and asked, "How can you be used by God? You are an adulterer, a murderer, a swindler, a poor widow, born to an un-wed mother. How can you be used by God?"
And this list of servants isn't just of biblical characters, no, no! Billy Graham, Joyce Meyer, Benji Kelley, Christy Merrill, Heidi Lyda, Heather Doss, Jennifer Halsey, Adam Livermon, Wes Pulley, Joey Reed, Jenn Temple, Natalie Spera and _____________(insert your name here reader) have all been called into his service regardless of hometown, education, savings account, age, or past mistakes.
When God calls us, he is fully aware of the challenges set before us in the natural realm. And yet he calls us anyway.
So what is keeping you from experiencing the full power of God, and serving him with your life? Do you feel he can't use you because of a past addiction? Because you're not smart enough? Because you are too old? Because you've made poor choices in the past? Maybe we all need to take on Ms. Kulhman's attitude.
If we serve a God who is limited by our hometown, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by our education, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by our former drug abuse, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by our family's dysfunction, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by our age, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by our past mistakes, then we are serving the wrong God.
If we serve a God who is limited by ANYTHING, then we are serving the WRONG GOD.Please, Please, Please, reader, take him out of the box and allow him to show his majesty and glory in its full, unlimited power.

Just for my Ego...

Okay, I'm bad about technology and such. But I'm figuring out this blog has a fan club!!!! Yes over on the side is an area for fans and followers!
Are you a regular reader? I know you are! You can become a follower and add your little name and silhouette there on the left. Then you can be in my blog fan club!
Yea!!!! (Who wants to be the president?)
Honestly, there is no real reason for this, other than to stroke my ego. But I really am amused by the simple things in life, so humor me.
Join today!

Holy Crap! That's it, I'm leaving Africa part 3

Okay, okay, I'm not really afraid of grasshoppers, but it's just a big big!
And this isn't even the biggest I've seen here. This was just the one that was in the women's toilet.

The weather has been hot here, so I’ve been leaving my doors open and locking just the burglar doors if I’m going out for a while.
Yesterday, I came home from church and found 2 brown blobs on my kitchen floor.
Is that coffee grounds? How did it get way over here?
It wasn’t coffee.
It was bird poop.
Huh, that’s funny. A bird came in, pooped, and then flew out the other side.
No such luck.
While reading on the porch I heard chirping coming from the loft.
Oh no!
Shur ‘nuf. He was upstairs in my loft, and had littered my carpet and bedspread with feathers, and poopie. I tried opening all the windows hoping he would fly out. Turns out he’s a dumb bird.
He did figure it out after a couple of hours.
So that’s how I spent my holiday,-washing duvets and comforters.

Math makes me feel old.
I was just pondering today… I’m 31. So if I got married soon-soon and had a baby right away, I’d be 32 when the baby was born.
That means when the child graduated, I’d be…50???????!!!!!!!!!!
What? I’m late!
I should have had a baby 10 years ago!
Stupid math.

Happy 2 B me! R U?

I read a funny quote this morning:
“Every morning when I awake, the greatest of joys is mine: that of being Salvador Dali.” Of course spoken by the artist Salvador Dali.
But isn’t that a great perspective to have on life? Everyday you wake up to your life and are excited about it? There is no one else you’d rather be?
It took me a long time to get to that place. I was probably 27 or so before I finally felt comfortable in my skin. A lot of it had to do with a change in attitude. I stopped looking at the things that I was still waiting for and started counting my blessings.
I was healthy. I had a job that I enjoyed. I had family and friends who loved me. I got to eat fried chicken when ever I wanted. I had financial freedom, a cute condo, a car that ran, and a Jesus who loves me.
I stopped waiting for my cellulite to magically disappear as I ate fried chicken. I accepted that this is the only size my thighs come in. I learned to embrace being single until that time that price charming arrived ( because he always does ladies.)
And by focusing on the great things I have in life instead of the things I don’t have, I began to love my life.
So many times we think we will be happy when…
When I get more money, a husband, a baby, a house, a bigger house, those cute sunglasses, and more fried chicken. But the truth is when you get them, you’re not always as happy as you think you will be. Your husband’s feet stink, the baby’s diaper stinks, the house has taxes to pay, the sunglasses get scratched and no matter how much friend chicken you buy it inevitably is never enough.
Happiness comes from contentment. Like Paul wrote, “I’ve learned to be content in all things whether abased or abounding.”
I wonder is Salvador Dali was able to love his life because was content with the things in his life as well… I’m sure being crazy didn’t hurt either.

Holy Crap! That's it! I'm leaving Africa Part 2

What is with these monster bugs in Africa?!!!!!
At Xai-Xai I came out of the shower and went to my room to brush out my hair. I felt something pinching at my elbow, and my first thought was that Natalie had snuck in the room behind me and was pinching me as a prank
I spun around to find no one.
That’s strange.
But I had felt something. I brushed my elbow with my hand and to my horror watched a seven inch centipede fall off of the back of my shirt!!!
Now, I’m not a screamer, but I ran screaming from the bedroom, calling the other girls to come and rescue me. Now the centipede had run under my suitcase so they couldn’t see it. All they could imagine was a “big centipede”, like a normal big centipede. Not a crazy-big African centipede.
So Jacci and Natalie go in casually, rolling their eyes at my stupidity looking for this monster that I was over reacting about.
Looked around the room. Didn’t find it.
Looked under my suitcase. Didn’t find it.
Looked behind the curtains. Didn’t find it.
“I’m not coming back in there until you kill it!” I screamed hysterically at them.
“It’s not here. It must have run away. It’s gone now.” They said shrugging it off.
“No! No!” my hysteria rising, “You’re not allowed to come out until you find it. It’s in there some-…”
AAAAAiiiiiiiiEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Found it.
Natalie came screaming from the room herself.
She joined me in hugging the banister for protection as Jacci kicked the mini-snake out of the room, over the edge to the living room below and then out the door where she proceeded to beat it to death with a log.
Did you hear me? A Log.
Look at these pictures! You can actually see the crazy beast in the pictures as Jacci is beating it!
I tried to sleep that night, protected only by a mosquito net, but to be honest it was a few days before my heart rate was back to normal.

This is the perfect picture for modern African culture. The woman is hawking her wares at the marketplace, and playing with her cell phone.

Raul says:

Everyone has an inner child.
Mine is a twelve year old boy named Raul.
I believe the appropriate term to describe him would be “cheeky”
He takes photos of lion pooping in the game park. He eats at Peckers restaurant (snicker). He drinks Pimp Juice energy drink instead of Red Bull. And now he feels compelled to blog about toileting in Africa.
So this is me and a long drop toilet. We stopped by the carepoint in Xai-Xai to take some Mission of Mercy photos and get some profiles. And since they are only feeding there, there is no permanent structure with a proper toilet. Hence the long drop.
Now I must put in my two sense. Long drops are far superior to pit toilets (like what we have at camp grounds in the US.) Do you see those two little foot shaped concrete wedges I’m standing on? This is to place your feet properly. Then you bend forward and lift that wire to open the squash shaped cover to the side. (That’s to keep it sealed, the odor in and the flies out.) Then you pull down your pants or pull up your skirt (not shown) and do your bidness.
The thing is, with your feet on the cutouts, there is no room for human error. Anything you have will go right into the squash shaped hole.
No fuss no muss.
It’s engineering genius.
When Raul grows up he wants to be a long drop engineer.

The apartment in Li'l Baghdad

Okay, for those of you who have seen the city of Maputo, in Mozambique, you know it looks rough. After the war it was kinda debated whose responsibility it was to take care of the outside of things. It's obvious that the inside of a building is the owners responsibility, but the outside...
As a result many people live in beautiful apartments with sketchy exteriors. It has also resulted in the affectionate nick-name "Little Baghdad." (but it's getting better.) Just had to explain that so you would understand where I was going with this.
So here is a summery of my trip in Moz. It's not quite the house that jack built, but...

These are the apartments in Lil' Baghdad.


This is the wonderful couple who hosted (tolerated) us in the apartment in Lil' Baghdad.




These are the friends who stayed with the couple who hosted us in the apartment in Lil' Baghdad.


This is the carepoint, visited by the friends who stayed with the couple who hosted us in the apartment in Lil' Baghdad.


And this is me. Very happy and rested at the beach, after visiting the carepoint, with the friends who stayed with the couple, who hosted us, in the apartment in Lil' Baghdad.

I'm outta here!

Okay guys. The past few weeks have been torture. I've had stress like I've never experienced before. But things are getting better everyday, and in 5 hours, I'm leaving the office and I will spend all of next week in Mocambique, here, on the beautiful beaches of Xai-Xai.
The cellphone will be off. The coffee will be brewing. The sun will be shining. The lobsters will be boiling. And my sanity will begin to return.
Please pray for safe travel, peace of mind, and don't expect to hear from me again until September!

My dirty Panties

I can't believe I forgot to tell you this story!
When we had the Christmas in July party we played the infamous White Elephant game.
I got first pick of presents. I was secretly so happy because I knew someone would inevitably steal my prize (whatever it was) and then I would get to pick another and another. My whole evening would be unwrapping presents, and really that's the fun of the game.
So I picked a big, shiny present, with a big bow. I was so happy!
I unwrapped it to find... underwear.
Yes, they were white cotton panties, folded nicely.
Ok. whatever. I guess you can't go wrong with panties. right?
But as I started to pick them up and unfold them to show the crowd I noticed a whole lotta brown.
WHAT??????!!!!!!I almost freaked out, until I realized it was actually chocolate melted into them, and not, well, you know.

Needless to say no one wanted to steal them from me. So I sat trying to promote them so I could have them stolen and then choose another, any other, gift.
I tried to model them.
No use.
I tried to promote them as "edible underwear."
No use.
Finally, the last gift of the night, a guy stole them.
I think he was just having mercy on me.
I ended up with a bottle of perfume.
Much better.

Holy Crap! That's it! I'm leaving Africa!!!!!!!

These photos have not been altered in any way! This is not a tarantula photoshoped in to a picture. This is the real deal!!!!!!!!!
EEEEEEK!
I sprayed and sprayed him until he plopped down with a thump. Then he creepy-crawled through my birthday cards, hairy legs reaching around the corners in a macabe death hug.
Now he is curled up on my floor. I'm too affraid to pick him up.
I want my mommy.

Me

Pepe update

Some of you know Pepe. She's kinda the unofficial poster child of Children's cup. A few months ago she had a bad spell and was in the hospital for quite a while.
To be honest, I didn't think she would make it.
But miraculously she did.
So Saturday, while at the orphanage I was wondering, "Where's Pepe?" as I searched the sea of faces.
I passed right over her. I didn't even recognize her!
When I saw her last at the Mbabance Clinic she was so so thin, just like a skeleton. She was weak, and frail, and feeling miserable. On saturday I saw a whole new child!!! She's getting fat! And she spent the day laughing, playing,and helping up in the garden. I couldn't beleive what a change has taken place in this child!
Praise God for his mercy.
(and I have to give proper credit to Sandra who stayed with her in the clinic the entire time she was there. That woman has compassion that I can't imagine having. I guess that's just the momma in her.)

Servelution

Healing Place Church, Swaziland participated in Servelution this past weekend. The children of the church went to a local orphanage. We cleaned the yard, gardened, and did some washing. What simple acts of love! (The children told Make Kate later, "we didn't know white people could work like us!" Too funny!) But simple acts of love go such a long way, whether it's helping with chores or carrying a little one who is too tired to walk any further. All of the things we do can show Christ's love to others. As mother Teresea said, it's not about the size of the task, but how much love you put into it.

Huh?

Does this make sense to you?
I took the team to King pie and our order included 17 pies. There was only one chicken pie.
“I have 12 more in the back.” The man at the counter said.
“Great.” said the pastor. “I’ll take those 12, and then that one makes 13….”
“No, I can’t sell you that one.”
“Why not?”
“Well, what is someone else comes in and wants a chicken pie?”
I don’t get it.
But is wasn’t just at King Pie. The pastor tried to buy several purses for his wife, sister, and mother. But he was only allowed to buy 2, because they were trying to save up their inventory for a trade show this weekend.
So, I guess the idea is to pass up a definite sale today for the possibility of a sale in the future.

In addition...

When the team wasn't busy painting, they did gardening, and also hosted a "chicken day" for the Moneni carepoint.Yep, 20 chickens were delivered via kombi to the children's delight. They each wanted to hold one and pose for pictures. You know they didn't really seem to mind that we slaughtered them.
So that's me, plucking feathers.

Before During and After!

Take a look at these pics!
You know I've always thought the classrooms at Moneni were so ugly! Sorry, but pumpkin just isn't an appealing color.
So the team came (see preivous post) and painted them as a project! What a transformation! Now the classes are so beautiful!
Look how great it is!
Thanks guys, for all of your hard work.

“As if my day wasn’t bad enough,” Sandra said. “ I pulled into the gate to find 3 big dogs in my yard and a pile of chicken feathers,- no Victoria.”
Shame. She loves that dumb chicken.
Ring ring
“Never mind. She’s in your yard. I don’t know how she got through the electric fencing, but she’s there. Take Bethany home with you and she will bring her back.”
And so that’s what I did. I took Bethany home with me to rescue a pet chicken that had flown to coop to escape 3 big dogs that had mysteriously gotten into the yard.
Only in Africa.

That said...

I'm just gonna disappear from cyber-things for a bit. As you can see I'm just under a lot of stress and emotions right now.
So I'll be out of touch for a while. No worries, I just need some quiet time.
I'll be back.

My teacher Lungile has passed away.
It’s so strange for me to think of her not being in my Thursday meetings, or at the carepoint.
I considered her a friend.
I remember once last year when I dropped her and her son off near their home. “Thank you Christy,” She said to me, “You are such a blessing to us.”
I’ve given lots of rides to people, but it was like Lungile to be thankful.
She had been so afraid to ask me for some time off of work when the doctor said she must rest. I reassured her that she had been working for us faithfully for almost a year, and we would gladly give her the time she needed to rest. I drove her to her family’s homestead that day with a love offering of soups, juices, and fruits.
“You know I see now that Children’s Cup, they care. They really care.”
That was the last time I saw her as herself. The two times I’d visited her this week in the hospital, she didn’t recognize me. Her mind had started to go. She was confused.
But I remember her as she really was.
Good-bye my friend. May you rest in Peace.

New Shoes

Children's Cup was recently given a donation to purchase several thousand pairs of new shoes. My carepoint was one of the luck reciprocates.
Now this was quite to ordeal to pull off, and it took a lot of team work. We (and by "we" I mean Children's Cup, not just me) first had to measure each child to get their correct shoe size. Then we had to buy all of the shoes in South Africa, then we had to distribute them all to the correct child are the correct carepoint.
But after months of working on this project, you can finally see the beautiful blessing given to these children. And just in time for the winter months too!
Many of these children go barefoot, and those who have "shoes" usually have flip flops (no good for winter weather)are wearing hand me downs that are either too big, or too small, or have them so worn out they are hole-y, blown out, or broken in places.
It really is pitiful.
But now each of these children have pair of brand new, perfect-for-them shoes. Look at their faces!

Do unto others...

When Jesus said it, we called it the golden rule.
Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you.
Yesterday I saw it in action.
Teacher Lungile has been sick for almost a month. First they said it was pneumonia, now they know it's TB. She's been hospitalized this week.
At the teacher's meeting yesterday I told the group, "I'm going to visit and pray for Lungile today. If any of you would like to come you're welcome. Then I will just drop you where you want to go afterwards."
During our potty break Sindi came to me. "Christy, we all want to go. So we must take a kumbi. We won't all fit in your truck."
It was just that matter of fact.
So after break I went to RFM hospital with 13 teachers, 2 MOM reps, a driver, and ironically, Lungile's sister who I met along the way.
We poured into the women's ward single file while the other patients looked with wide-eyed confusion. And we chatted with her briefly, giving words of encouragement, a prayer and a song. As we filed out, (just as noticeably,) I saw a few teachers slip a few coins into her sister's hand.
It was a side of some of my teachers I haven't seen before, but hopefully it won't be the last time.
Sickness and hospitalizations is a way of life here. It would have been possible for them to ignore her, or say, "shame too bad." But they took time out of their day, when they could have been going home.
I hope she was encouraged and knows that she is loved.
She is our family.