Into Africa, Third Verse: The Lord’s Day

‘Therefore all who devour you will be devoured;
And all your adversaries, every one of them, will go into captivity;
And those who plunder you will be for plunder,
And all who prey upon you I will give for prey.
‘For I will restore you to health
And I will heal you of your wounds,’ declares the LORD,
‘Because they have called you an outcast, saying:
“It is Zion; no one cares for her.”’

And they entered and took possession of it. But they did not obey your voice or walk in your law. They did nothing of all you commanded them to do. Therefore you have made all this disaster come upon them.  Behold, the siege mounds have come up to the city to take it, and because of sword and famine and pestilence the city is given into the hands of the Chaldeans who are fighting against it. What you spoke has come to pass, and behold, you see it. Yet you, O Lord GOD, have said to me, “Buy the field for money and get witnesses”—though the city is given into the hands of the Chaldeans.’”    The word of the LORD came to Jeremiah:  Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for me?  Therefore, thus says the LORD: Behold, I am giving this city into the hands of the Chaldeans and into the hand of Nebuchadnezzar king of Babylon, and he shall capture it. The Chaldeans who are fighting against this city shall come and set this city on fire and burn it, with the houses on whose roofs offerings have been made to Baal and drink offerings have been poured out to other gods, to provoke me to anger. For the children of Israel and the children of Judah have done nothing but evil in my sight from their youth. The children of Israel have done nothing but provoke me to anger by the work of their hands, declares the LORD.  Jeremiah 30:16-17, 31:21-30

Sundays are unique at the village.  For one thing, there is no work – of any kind – being done.  No construction, no building, no fixing.  Children have minimal chores, and the kitchen staff still cooks meals, but it is truly a day of rest.  Some of the staff and teachers leave the village for the weekend, going home to be with their families or spend time with friends and relatives.  Things are quiet, relaxed, unhurried.

My sleepover with Susan went just as well as with Franka.  Again, my “half” of the bed shrunk as the night progressed, and my whole body ached from sleeping on one side with my back pinned against the wall…but I loved every precious minute of it.  Even though I should be exhausted and famished, God provides me with strength each day to endure and truly enjoy the experiences here.  As the girls at Love House got out of bed and started their day, Susan kept telling me, “You go back to sleep” as if she were my own personal snooze button.  Finally, I had to get up.  She walked me home before returning to complete her morning chores.  As we walked out the door, I noticed large white wings, 2″-3″ long, scattered all over the porch, steps and all along the walkway.  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find the bugs that were supposed to be attached to those wings, which made me just a little nervous.

We enjoyed a smaller breakfast of french toast and tea or coffee, since the bananas were now all gone.  The french toast is a rarity for me – something my kids won’t eat at home, though I have no idea why – super delicious with some butter and a sprinkle of raw sugar.   Mike returned from his morning run with an extra-special treat.

You know all those wings we saw on our morning trek back from Love House?  This is what was attached to them.  These little critters, which were very much alive, are known as “white ants”…also called termites.  And – according to Mike, the staff, the children, and the locals – are a delicious, high-protein snack.  Just pop ’em in your mouth by the handfuls, and swallow.  They only swarm twice a year, so take advantage.

Rachel and Careenna were the only ones that Mike could coerce into trying them.  Rachel tossed one in her mouth, just like that…

…and swallowed it, no big deal.

Mmmm, tastes like peanuts.  Peanuts that have little legs and squirm in your mouth and eat trees.  Mike claims the real treat is when you discover their queen.   I’ll take his word for it.

Because of church, we didn’t have a team devotional, so we had extra time to prepare ourselves for church.  I had offered my dress to Careenna, since she forgot to bring a skirt.  I knew I had an extra dress – though a little big for me now – in the suitcase of donated clothes that I could wear.  At the clothes distribution yesterday, though, Trace found that dress and held it up for Rose to see, exclaiming, “Oh, Rose!  This looks just like you!!”  Rose, with her characteristic big smile on her face, took it and immediately tried it on over her clothes.  Yes, in fact, it looked as though it were made just for her.  I knew at that moment there was no way I could ask to borrow the dress back.  I had to tell Careenna I needed my dress after all, but she could use my tie-dye as a sort of wraparound skirt.  With a little help from all of us, and her incredible sense of style, she managed to pull it off as if it was what she had intended all along.  Of course, the kids were a bit curious as to why her skirt had their names written all over  it….

When it was time, we headed up to the chapel building for the church service.  It was crowded, with all the children there plus the house mothers and their babies, the teachers and their spouses and children, the staff who had stayed for the weekend with their little ones, and the muzungas.  As a way of honoring “the visitors”, the children brought in benches for us to sit on, but everyone else sat on the floor or on grass mats.  Many of the children wore their new clothes for the first time.  I even recognized a few articles of clothing.

Teacher Denis preached and Pastor David interpreted.  Vicky (the “shorty-shorty one”) and Lillian acted as worship leaders for the service .  The singing was loud and joyful and full of dancing.  Scovia led the singing – she has a real heart for it, and although she’s shy she is quite a good leader.  Denis spoke from the two passages above in Jeremiah.  His style was to go verse by verse with explanation and application.  Between the heat and lack of good sleep, I found it hard to stay focused and pay attention.

Following church, we headed back to our hut and changed into “play clothes.”  The children also returned to their homes to finish chores and prepare lunch.  Our plan was to reschedule the flag football tournament for today since it was rained out yesterday, but Sunday afternoons are also a time for dancing.

Not really having anything to do, I spent some time wandering from house to house, visiting but not wanting to be in the way.  I was feeling restless and though I could have written in my journal I didn’t want to sit still.

We had been told that the dancing would begin around 2, after lunch.  We showed up at 2, but of course nothing was ready.  I sat in the grass for a bit, visiting with Rabbit, Lindsey and a few other friends.

After awhile my back couldn’t take it any more so I went up and got a few chairs for us to sit on.  Mike and Janelle brought their grass mat and some chairs and I had the opportunity to visit with them while we waited.  Many of the children played “Red Rover” – a “fruit that remained” from my last trip – but they play with such force that I am actually afraid to be part of it.

Finally, around 3:30, the dancing started.

Each dance tells a story.  Mike and Janelle have learned some of the “stories” behind certain dances and I enjoyed hearing what some of those stories were.  After a few dances, the children always like to pull in the muzungas to join them.  Jon got to dance to the rhythm of his own drum.

I had been told – repeatedly – by both the girls in Love House and Hope House that I would be “required” to dance with them, but when the time came no one invited or asked.  I was a little surprised, but keeping the perspective that it’s not really about me helped me to be able to enjoy watching those that did participate.

They danced for about an hour, and though you’d think they’d be worn out, they were ready to keep going!  We hurried to get the children into teams for the flag football tournament.  We had 10 teams total, with close to 20 on each, and were only able to play 3 games.  So 4 teams had to watch from the sidelines.  I was ref for our game, with Ryan acting as QB and Trace as scorekeeper.  I named my team the Cowboys.  Gotta represent, that’s what I was thinking.

We discovered quickly that the “only grab the flag of the person with the ball” rule was going to be a challenge for them to understand.  The first play from scrimmage we had flags being held up all over the field.  Needless to say, the actual player with the ball ran, untouched, from one end of the field to the other, scoring easily.  Just like in America, the Cowboys were down early.

Then we discovered that the “only grab the flag of the person with the ball” rule created a different sort of challenge.  As in “don’t pull DOWN the pants of the person whose flag you’re grabbing”.  There were a few, um, shall we say interesting moments when players got a bit more of a view than they expected.

There was also the issue of staying within the boundaries.  More often than not, our players ended up running outside the lines into the game on the adjacent field, or their players ended up being mixed in with ours.  Regardless, with a “no pass” rule, and only one player allowed to handle the ball per play, our match ended up being very close.

After about an hour, I was done.  I admit it.  I was tired, itchy, and thirsty.  The little kids were frustrated by the competitive-ness of the big kids.  The big kids were frustrated because we weren’t letting them pass the ball, like other refs were.  Before tempers really flared up, I decided it was time to call it quits and let things cool down.  After downing a bottle of water, and a good rubdown below the knees with some baby wipes, I felt much better.  Dinner, campfire, prep, and evening worship…it felt good to be back in the routine again.

As I crawled into bed tonight, I saw something that made me very unhappy…a large, red, welty, itchy rash has formed on my left leg, around my knee.  It looks a lot like poison ivy.  The last time I got poison ivy – on my left leg, no less –  it ended up turning into this in a matter of days:

This mess ended up spreading to my right leg as well:

And yes, it was every bit as gross and painful and itchy in person as it looks in these pictures.  Official diagnosis? Cellulitis and staph infection caused by poison ivy.  Last summer, it was “poison oak” – another red, swollen, itchy flesh-eating rash of mysterious origin – that resulted in two cortisone shots, a benadryl shot, 10 days of oral steroids plus a full course of antibiotics…not to mention topical anti-itch, anti-inflammatory, antibiotic cream.

So, when I saw that rash, I’m not ashamed to say I cried.  Well, first I gasped.  Then I said something like “Oh, no.  Please, God.  NO!”  And THEN I cried.  Knowing I have another 10 days before I’ll be home, and knowing how quickly these things turn violently ugly, I admit to being afraid, worried, and quite concerned.  I immediately enlisted a few prayer warriors to pray over this rash, that it will heal quickly, remain contained, and above all not become infected.

Moments like this one make me glad I’ve got Someone watching over me.  Someone who knows why a few little welts on my leg make my insides turn to jello.  Someone who knows how much I miss my husband at moments like this.  Someone who doesn’t think I’m overreacting when the tears begin to fall.  Someone who knows my need and meets me at that exact moment with peace and understanding.  Someone who knew all along that this would happen, and knows what the end result will be.  Someone I can trust.  Completely.

With that assurance, I turned off my headlamp and bid this Lord’s Day farewell.