Kinshasa Journal 2: Robocops and Refrigerators

Thanks Nick Frey for the photo!

We’ve been here almost a week! Where did the time go? 

Here is a list of highlights and “lowlights” from our first week back in Kinshasa.
We arrived late on Thursday evening. On the way home from the airport, I got to see the traffic robot, aka robocop. These new aluminum and steel traffic officers were built here in Kinshasa while we were in the states. You can see more photos, some video footage, and read more about the robocops HERE.

Upon arriving at the house, we were pleasantly surprised at the work our team had put into cleaning it and stocking it with enough food to get us started until we could go shopping. David Francis had done some plumbing and wiring repairs so that we could have electricity and showers. There was a welcome banner for Daniel from one of his friends. The beds were made with clean sheets. We were UNpleasantly surprised to see someone else’s refrigerator in our living room when we walked in, because it could only mean one thing. Sure enough, our refrigerator that we bought shortly before we left for furlough was not functional. 

It did not take us long to feel like we were back in Congo again. Friday night the car we are borrowing from MAF broke down on a dead end road and we did not have working phones yet. Not that anyone could have easily come to help us because the reason we turned down the wrong road was because our road is under construction and is completely barricaded and we were trying to find another way to the house. The nice thing is that in Kinshasa if you have some francs in your pocket you can always find a couple of guys willing to help you push your car. All we had was a twenty dollar bill so we really made their day. For a lot of people here twenty dollars is more than a week’s wages. Then on Saturday evening we spent nearly an hour stuck in a traffic jam. The kicker was that we were only about one minute from our destination when we got stuck.

We’ve already had several power outages, including one that lasted about thirty hours. David has already repaired the same light fixture four times. Two voltage regulators have fried. I no longer have a dryer, which means scratchy towels and hoping the mango flies don’t find my clothesline. We haven’t found a vehicle yet. 

David jumped in with both feet and started working in the hangar on Monday, but today he stayed home to try to address some issues here in the house. We discovered the refrigerator had zero refrigerant in it, so there is a leak somewhere. If we can find the leak, we can get it repaired and save a lot of money versus buying a new one. We are grateful for the loaner refrigerator while we sort this out. 

This doesn't look like much but it is a big deal to me. Our 12 volt lights, internet antenna and router are set up to run on battery power. The batteries are charged by solar panels, but they are not holding their charge well anymore so when the power is off or it is too cloudy our internet quickly begins to fail, followed by our back up lights. I was running up and down a ladder several times a day to turn the inverter off and reset the router to get internet back, or to turn it off altogether to try to conserve battery power for running the lights. David lowered the inverter today so that I can reach it without the ladder. That beautiful green light means we have internet! No more ladder in the hallway. Yaay! It’s the little things, folks. 

So, we are definitely not in America anymore. But we are doing well. Since this is our second term and not our first, now that the jet lag has worn off it does seem a lot easier to adjust. I know how to cook here already, how to pay bills, how to shop, how to run a generator, etc., so it doesn’t feel like a mountain of stuff is being thrown at me to learn and navigate. I already have friends and acquaintances here, which is a huge thing. During the last several months leading up to our furlough, David and I both had health issues we did not know about until we got to the states, but which were contributing to our mental and physical fatigue and stress and probably affecting how we (or at least I) related to our team. Thankfully, we have a very understanding  team, and we are both feeling much better now.

We’ve learned some things. Firstly, next time we go on furlough or an extended trip we will label where we store the parts for the water filter. That’s sort of important and at 1:00am after a flight across the ocean one’s memory is not what it should be. 


Secondly, I am learning to take better care of myself and to minimize stress as much as possible here so that I have more energy for my relationships with others and for the things I have to do. For example, we have one room that stays cooler than any other room in the house, so that is where we now have our home school day. It’s amazing the difference that ten degrees can make on a person’s overall well being and temperament after several hours each day! 

Robocops aside, life here is just as difficult for most Congolese as it was when we left last summer - maybe more so. The police are destroying the wares and stands of the roadside vendors in the name of "cleaning up and beautifying the city." There are new laws going into effect regarding what parts of the city the taxi buses are allowed to run in. Taxis are the primary mode of transportation for most people here. The prevailing attitude of those in power seems to be the end justifies the means without regard to who gets hurt in the process. Please continue to keep Congo in your prayers!

Shopping List or Chopping List

To do list... (Photo credit: vvvracer)

We had a great Thanksgiving! It was fabulous to get to have all three kids together. We haven't had all of us together for Thanksgiving since Josh graduated from high school.

Our ministry support is increasing! We are almost there! I've updated our support info HERE.

When you share your story in churches nearly every Sunday, as we have been doing, you don't get to hear very many sermons. When you do, it's a treat. A few weeks ago we heard a pastor talk about all of the excuses we immediately think up when God reveals his will to us, in much the same way Moses did.

I'm not a "people person."

I'm not good with kids.

I don't know the Bible well enough.

I'm not eloquent.

I'm not good at ______________________.

Some are flimsy, but some are real.

I'm a list person. I like to make shopping lists of things we lack before I go to the store. What excuses are we using to make ourselves a "chopping list" and cut ourselves out of God's will and service?

We lose sight of the fact that our shortcomings don't disqualify us or excuse us from obedience to God. They serve to make us rely on Him. When God accomplishes something through us that we know without doubt we couldn't do on our own, our faith is strengthened, people are drawn to Him, and He is glorified!

Do we have enough faith to let our chopping list be a shopping list in God's hands, to let Him equip us with what we need?

First Week of Furlough

MAF Office in Nampa

A week ago today in the wee hours of morning we landed in Boise, Idaho. It does not seem like a week has gone by! Already we have had some memorable moments:

* stepping off the plane in Brussels was like entering a portal to another world - "first world"

* hot water/showers, and actually feeling clean after we rinsed off

* hair that behaves

*people are so friendly and polite!

* driving! Oh my! Smooth roads, orderliness, street signs and street lights

* re-teaching my son to make microwave popcorn

*first time I put on a clean shirt and it smelled clean

* milk in a jug!

* pulling something out of the fridge that is actually COLD

* getting all our groceries, toiletries, etc at one store and finding everything (In reference to my post about what it might be like to go to Wal-mart, not much had changed really. I still had the entire floor plan memorized and had no trouble finding things. The big difference is that it took me twenty minutes to pick a deodorant, and the first time we went to Wal-mart, we came home with only two food items: milk and Oreos. We may have been tired but at least we had our priorities right.)

* While putting away groceries, someone forgot what crescent roll dough was and put it in the freezer. oops.

* one of my kids was the first of us to accidentally speak French to someone instead of English, and yes, the rest of us laughed

* INTERNET!!!

* getting to dry my clothes in a dryer!

* David mentioned the other day "No one in this family except me knows how to turn lights off." That made us realize that in our house in Kinshasa, it rarely mattered if the switches were on or off. It's hard to waste electricity when you don't have any.

We have all been to the doctor for physicals and are attending meetings/debriefings. Next week David has some training in the hangar and I hope to use that time to get a few much needed clothing items for the kids and me.

It has been a real treat to be in Nampa and see again our friends there. These are the people who work behind the scenes to help all of us who are on the field with everything from processing support gifts, writing literature and making our prayer cards, arranging our travel, raising funds to get us planes, helping us with insurance claims, training us, coaching us, processing our mail, and more. They pray for us, advise us, serve us and encourage us. Many of them have served overseas and know all the ins and outs and understand all that we experience. They know how weary we were when we arrived without us having to tell them and they have loved on us since we got here. I have met missionaries who do not have the kind of support that MAF gives to their missionaries and it makes a huge difference! If any of our Nampa friends are reading this, THANK YOU! We love you too!

Don't mind me...

Coffee & Donuts (Photo credit: Jeremy Brooks)

…I’m just a missionary on furlough (almost).

We leave in two weeks for our first furlough. I don’t know if this happens to every missionary family but as our departure time creeps closer, we’ve begun to notice some strange mental shifts. Nothing scary or creepy, just little things that by themselves mean nothing but collectively make us a little bizarre.

We see photos on the internet of our friends, and after a cursory glance at the people our eyes are drawn to things in the photos that we never would have noticed a few years ago. Carpet. Door knobs that are not five feet above the floor. Sidewalks. Starbucks. Donuts. And we sort of go into a trance and drool. It’s disgusting.

We talk about things we used to take for granted like peace and quiet and fresh strawberries, peaches and blueberries and we sound like Sam and Frodo at Mordor when they realize they can’t remember the taste of strawberries or the sound of the trees. Pathetic.

English: Wal-Mart location in Moncton (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I’ve heard stories of expats returning to the states and crying the first time they went back to Wal-Mart and thought to myself, "no way, not me, Wal-Mart and I are old friends and I CANNOT WAIT to go back." Lately though I am not so sure of myself. Since we've never had a furlough this is all pure speculation but I might cry after all. I might feel overwhelmed. I might be just as likely to cry tears of joy. “Look, Honey! They have EVERYTHING on our list right here in ONE store! And it all has a price tag on it! And none of it is expired! And the labels are in ENGLISH!”

I might do a happy dance.

I might take forty minutes to drive the twelve miles to the store because driving in excess of 35mph feels terrifyingly fast.

I might try to order my meat by the kilo instead of by the pound.

I might try to give a tip to any pedestrian within six feet of my car and thank them for keeping an eye on it for me.

I might hand my merchandise to the cashier and after he/she scans it, ask, possibly in French, “Is that your BEST price?”

If I am going to behave strangely, Wal-mart might just be the safest place to do it. Still, maybe I will make a t-shirt for furlough that says “Don’t mind me, I’m just a missionary on furlough,” just in case someone wonders about me. It might prevent an awkward moment or two.

Mistaken for a Tomato

Tomatoes (Photo credit: burgundavia)

Saturday I was invited to a "spa night." Every few months a group of us expat ladies will grab our plastic tubs and favorite nail polish and gather for a little pampering at my friend Christine's house. Christine always lights candles, makes a pretty display of all her scrubbies, soaps, lotions, etc, and heats tubs of water. We soak our feet, chit chat, polish our nails, and just enjoy some time to relax and unwind. Feet take a real beating here, and so can your sanity, so we sort of help both areas at the same time. We always have such a good time that we all agree to have "spa nights" more frequently, but everyone has different family dynamics, ministries, and obligations so it is hard to find time when we are all available.

A couple of days later I was talking to our guard, Leopold, when I felt something hit my toe. I looked down and the chicken was going to town trying to eat my toes. I shooed her away. She came back, pecking determinedly. Leopold shooed her away. Again she returned. As I shuffled from foot to foot while trying to finish our conversation, he finally grinned and said "She thinks your toes are tomatoes." I can honestly say I had never before been mistaken for a tomato, and it struck me funny.

We say and hear a lot of things here that we don't think anything about, but in a "first-world" setting, would sound bizarre. Here are a few more examples:

"Turn off the hot water heater BEFORE you turn on the a/c or you'll overload the voltage regulator."

"Don't turn your car lights on before it gets really dark or you'll get pulled over for impersonating a celebrity." (This really did happen to a friend of mine.)

Lily in hiding!

"Don't let your kitten out of the yard. If you do someone will eat it."

"We don't have school Friday because there's supposed to be a riot."

"I'm pretty sure I have worms."

"I got electrocuted today." "Again?" "Yeah."

"How did you get that bruise on your shoulder?" "I walked into a door knob." (Houses here have ridiculously high door knobs.)


More quotes from Congo: Give Me Back My Ziplock Bag

Firsties

Here are ten of my most recent "firsties," things I did for the first time:

* met Rita Chapman, a missionary serving in Kikongo whom I've been hearing about since 2008. Very Cool Beans!
* washed myself with gasoline. Peeyou.
* "jumped" electrical phases in our breaker box. Needed to learn and now I have.
* went through a Congolese military checkpoint. Ok.
* led a group of high school girls in a Bible study. These girls are fantastic!
* made pickles that actually stayed crunchy. Too salty, but at least they stayed crunchy. (whisper: They taste like Claussens.)
* drove more than three miles one way from my house, and back. Survived. Barely.
* went to the consulate for the U.S. embassy to renew our kids' passports. Not fun.
* went to a parent/teacher conference for my daughter, a senior. Somehow when we were home schooling her it seemed way too odd, even for us, to have parent/teacher conferences. hee hee.
* took my new friend Hannah to the orphanage with me to play with the kids. This is Hannah.

There is just nothing like hearing a little kid giggle!

Obviously, God is not letting me stay in a rut or get too set in my ways. Living a Christian life takes "muscle," which brings me to the subject of my new post, "Move That Muscle" on the MAF blog. I hope you'll check it out.

Give Me Back My Ziplock Bag (and other things people say in Congo)

The above photo is of our pet chicken.  She literally was washed into our yard by a thunderstorm one night and we couldn't find the owners so we feed her and she stays.  She follows us around like a puppy.  I asked our guard the other day if she ever lays any eggs and he said no.  He said chickens only lay eggs if you feed them "people food." We already were feeding her people food: vegetables and grains.  Unless he meant "people food," as in food made of people.

I often hear people say something funny or absurd and think I’d better write that down or I’ll forget it. That led to a small collection of quotes. These are all statements I have overheard here in Congo. Some were spoken by missionaries and some by nationals. Names of original speakers have been withheld to protect the guilty and/or clueless.

Most of these are just funny, especially if you don’t know the context from which they were spoken and just overhear them from another room:

“I have to speak slowly when I talk to myself.” (my favorite)

“Don’t lick those wires.”

“I wet myself every time I do dishes.”

“Do you want your trash bag back?” (used, that is)

Other statements were made in the context of Congo and the life and climate here:

“Wow! That gift is wrapped in REAL wrapping paper.”

“He painted it a couple months ago. We don’t know why it’s sticky.”

“You can have these cinnamon rolls if you give me back my ziplock bag.” (ziplock bags are like gold here)

“Hey, does this smell bad to you, or just nasty?”

Some, though, are serious and reflective rather than funny. Often life here is challenging and exhausting on all levels: physical, spiritual, mental and emotional. We try to make our home a safe place to “vent” and be honest about how we all feel and at the same time hold each other accountable for bad attitudes and encourage each other to press on. These next two quotes came from some of those types of conversations and pretty well sum up why our family is here right now.

“We live in a dung heap!”   “I know we do, that’s why we moved here.”

 “Of course, if you aren’t going to heaven, Kinshasa is a beautiful place to live.  Consider the alternative.”

Steve Camp has a song called “Run to the Battle” that goes like this: “Some people want to live within the sound of chapel bells, but I want to run a mission a yard from the gates of hell.”  The first time I heard that song I knew nothing about Kinshasa or the Democratic Republic of Congo.  This city, the entire country, is definitely a battleground.  I can't say I always wanted to run a mission a yard from hell's gates, but I sure can relate to another line from the same song: "We may not be many, but we serve a mighty Lord!" And I can't even put into words the way this line affects me "look around you as you hesitate, for another soul just fell."  How could I listen to that song and then tell God that I would not suffer a few inconveniences for the sake of those souls? Pray for all of  God's workers here, that we may not hesitate but be always ready to give an answer to everyone who asks us the reason for the hope that we have (I Peter 3:15).

How to Exponentially Increase Your Husband's Stress

Photo source: Reusable Art

Some times when a person is under stress or having a hard time, blessing them is not the temptation that first presents itself.  We don't usually deal with our stress and problems by being all sweetness and warm fuzzies.  Often we drive people away.  But we married our men for better or for worse, and most days, my husband receives the "worse" and I receive the "better."  I know all sorts of things that definitely do not bless my husband (or anyone else) during  a stressful time.  I know, because I have at one time or another tried all of them in the 21 years we've been married.

How to Exponentially Increase Your Husband's Stress (subtitled: stuff I learned not to do after I had already done them):

1. Reacting instead of responding.
2. Assuming because he hasn't said anything more about it, that the problem has gone away.
3. Taking it personally when he is quieter than usual or when he says something he normally wouldn't.
4. Inviting people over to distract him from his troubles.  Never works.  Never.
5. Talking to him incessantly.  I don't know why, but they don't like this.
6. Trying to "one up" him - let him know how much longer my list of problems is than his.
7. Ask him when he's going to fix the car, the toilet, etc.
8. Tell him to just get over it or to stop making such a big deal out of it.
9. Committing him to more activities without asking him first.
10. Play the martyr.  Make a big production out of everything you do for him.

photo source: Reusable Art

I found an article called "10 Ways to Bless Your Husband When He Is Having a Stressful Week."  The big difference between the list that Sandra Peoples has written and my list is that her list revolves around the other person, not around self.  I like this little article because it is practical and do-able.  I don't have to read his mind or do acupuncture or learn to play golf.  Just look for real things I can do that give him one less thing to think about here, one less thing to do there, a few more minutes of rest in between, and a little less chaos.

So, if you are interested, check out 10 Ways to Bless Your Husband When He Is Having a Stressful Week.  Then just in case she's having a stressful week, leave her an encouraging comment.  I'd love to hear your ideas too!

Ten Things I Never Thought I Would Do. Ever.

Whack A Mole Fever (Photo credit: TPapi)

Ten years ago, the only missions experience I had was spending a week in a shelter for the homeless during my senior year of college.  I had never left the United States, unless you count a couple of hours at Niagara Falls during my high school senior trip.  I had no idea then, that I would be here now.

I've done a lot of things here - some smart and creative and some, well, otherwise - that I never, ever, ever thought I would do.  I didn't just think of those things and scoff and say "I would never do that."  I didn't think of them AT ALL!

Here are TEN THINGS I NEVER THOUGHT I WOULD DO.  EVER!

1. Whack baby cockroaches on the counter with my fist in rapid motion, like a real-life Whack-A-Mole game! (I am afraid of cockroaches, so this is VERY out of character for me, but sometimes enough is enough.)  If you run to get a shoe or some bug spray, it is always too late and they've escaped.

2. Learn to like powdered milk.  I am way ahead of my family in this area.

3. See and greet men with automatic weapons on my street as if it is normal.  Isn't it?

4. Make my own sausage.

5. Give my child worm medicine, as in the same stuff we give our cats and dogs in the states, routinely.

6. Intentionally leave money in my pockets in hope that the smell will come out in the wash.

7. Cut my own hair (see Filling Holes).

8. Pick up a crying child who was not my own and was covered in his own waste without gagging.

9. Ride in the back seat of a car holding my child's leg in the air to slow the bleeding while we drive to a third world medical clinic (see Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle).

10. Eat cheese that smells like dirty gym socks.  The orphan in item number 8 didn't make me gag, but the cheese did.

Some of these experiences were once and for all.  Some are experiences I will have repeatedly.  The Cool Beans is that all of them have had an impact on me.  Sometimes they revealed hidden strengths.  Sometimes they revealed uglier traits that I had not seen in myself before and had to ask God to change in me.  Sometimes, they made me laugh at myself, which is not a bad thing at all.  By the way, Whack-A-Roach can be a very effective way to vent stress and anger.  No one gets yelled at, and there are fewer bugs in the house.  Not that I'm saying you should try it or anything, but if you want to give it a try, you can come to my house!

How about you?  What sorts of things have you done that you never thought you would?

A Sad Goodbye and a Lesson in Congolese Culture

My grandmother with my grandfather, Josh and Emily (top rt) and Daniel

Here is sort of a wrap up of the last several days.

Daniel got his stitches out!  We are grateful he had no infection or complications.  Being a ten year old boy, he's not the least bit upset about having a new scar - he thinks it's cool.  He is however, disappointed that he gets to take baths again.

Emily made 1st semester honor roll!  This was for her first semester outside of a home school environment, so we are very proud of her for doing well in her studies while she was also dealing with the adjustment to a new school, friends being gone on furlough, her brother leaving home, and starting the school year with her mom out of country having surgery.  She's a real trooper!

Josh is playing his guitar now in worship time at the Baptist Student Union on campus, sharing his faith with others, playing rugby, and hopefully studying.

David has been trying to accomplish the impossible task of having no toilets or faucets leaking anywhere in the house for a whole day.  The plumbing supplies here are of very inferior quality and break almost as quickly as they are installed.

I am working on our next newsletter.  Well, ok, I'm thinking about working on our next newsletter.

MAF featured one of my articles on their BLOG.

Recently, I wrote about having friends whose father was near death and my grandmother being in hospice.  Both of them passed away just days ago.  I am heartbroken over the loss of my grandmother and the fact that I cannot be there with my relatives right now.  She was a very special lady, strong, faithful, and compassionate.  We'll all miss her terribly.  I do find it comforting to know she is now in heaven with her Savior and we will have a reunion one day.

We attended our first funeral here in Congo on Sunday.  I can well imagine what my grandmother's funeral might be like, at least in general.  Most funerals in America have certain similarities because of our common culture, plus I know my family.  It is the same here, except that the culture is vastly different.  Here are just some of the differences that I noticed:

* The funeral was outdoors in a concrete gymnasium in 90 degree weather.
* Instead of padded church pews we sat under awnings on plastic lawn chairs.
* There was another funeral in progress on one side of us, and a church service on another side, both of which had live bands and PA systems competing with our service.
* Men in rolled up jeans, flip flops, and ragged t-shirts were walking around selling soft drinks and water, which they carried on their heads in bags of ice.
* There was a rooster crowing every few minutes.
* There were at least four languages spoken: English, French, Kikongo and Lingala.
* The family was expected to feed everyone.  In Congo no one brings food to the family or offers assistance.  They do bring money.
* The services lasted several hours.  We were there for four and missed the burial service.
* There was a man wearing a sandwich board walking around selling Polaroid-style photos of the service, during, not after, the service.
* None of the flowers were real and all of them were wrapped in plastic.  Instead of being displayed in advance of people's arrivals, they were presented to the deceased in a processional by the donors near the end of the service.  It is the family's responsibility to ensure that there will be some flowers at the funeral, but anyone can give flowers.  They are gifts to the deceased, not the family, and they are buried with the deceased, but first they are torn off their frames to prevent them from being dug up and sold by thieves. (A note: Grave robbing is so common here that often the casket is smashed to make it unsellable and less likely to be stolen.  Grave markers are also intentionally damaged to ensure that they aren't stolen, painted over and resold.)

I'm sure there are other differences I didn't notice because there was a lot to take in.  It was indeed very different from my own culture.

Daniel's Bottle Bucket Battle

   Raising children in a developing nation is risky, albeit adventurous.  I knew that before we came, but it isn't something one tends to think about until an event occurs which gives you a startling reminder.  Saturday evening, Daniel dropped a bottle of Coke and it shattered.  Several shards nicked his feet and legs, but one larger piece of glass bounced off the floor and cut his leg pretty deeply.  We could see his bone.  Our first thought was to call a missionary we know who is a nurse, only to discover she had gone to the interior and couldn't be reached.  We had no choice but to take him to a clinic here and hope for the best. Traffic was terrible.  Sometimes when we are driving here I am reminded of a Discovery Toys Rush Hour game my kids used to have with a bunch of cars and trucks, all facing different directions, touching one another and unable to move.  Add loud honking, dozens of pedestrians weaving in and out the best they can, a complete lack of street lights, people shouting, and exhaust fumes and that's what it looked like Saturday evening.  Daniel was bleeding a lot and I had him in the back seat with his leg propped up while I held the wound shut,  and while we were stuck in traffic, his leg just spontaneously stopped bleeding and didn't bleed again until he was safe in the clinic being examined. (We didn't know it yet, but thanks to Emily and Facebook, lots and lots of friends were already praying for Daniel and God was answering!) Finally a hole just big enough to turn our jeep around opened up and we retraced our steps and went "the back way" to the clinic.  There was a nurse outside the clinic who took one look at David carrying Daniel with his bloody legs and feet and took charge, opening doors and escorting us past triage and reception, straight to the exam room.  By the time I walked up to the reception desk to let them know Daniel was there and give them our names and address, he had been seen by the doctor, had his wound cleaned, and was waiting for stitches.  While they were very careful to use sterile instruments and keep the wound clean, there were definite points of observation that reminded us we weren't in the U.S.
     * the language barrier - They kept asking us questions in Lingala, then switching to French, and in our stress we had some difficulty thinking in French.
     * the insects on the walls
     * the stack of grotesquely filthy leg and arm braces in the corner, presumably waiting to be reused
     * no bright red bio-hazard box - the needles they used to give Lidocaine to Daniel were new and sterile, but once used they just went into the garbage bag with all the other bloody gauze and trash
     * the mercurochrome - they used lots of it on all of Daniel's smaller cuts, even on his old bug bites.  He has big pink spots all over his legs, front and back.  They were so generous with it I started to wonder if we were getting charged by the ounce (that's a joke, folks).  Though I remember mercurachrome from my childhood, I'm pretty sure it is not used in the U.S. any more because it actually contains mercury.  Nice.
     * I had 8 stitches in each incision when I had my foot surgery.  Daniels wound was about the same width, possibly wider, and he got four.  We got some steri-strips from a friend to "close the gaps."
     * no follow up instructions regarding things like when he can bathe, how long to leave the stitches in, etc.  We know we have to keep it clean and dry.  We have plenty of missionary friends here who are in the medical field so we'll rely on them for help and guidance.

     While God was showing Himself to us; getting us through traffic, getting rapid treatment for Daniel, and keeping him from losing too much blood, keeping him amazingly calm, He also showed Himself to Emily that night.  As we were leaving the house for the clinic, I asked Emily to get on the internet and tell our friends to pray because Daniel was bleeding a lot and I knew traffic would be bad and I didn't know what type of care we would get at the clinic.   As soon as they heard, a couple on our team, the Freys, dropped everything and came to be with Emily.  Instead of finding an anxious daughter when we arrived home, we found Emily, Jocelyn, and Nick watching a movie together.  The glass, soda and blood were all cleaned up.  They had brought their supper with them and fed Emily and even had a cupcake waiting for Daniel.  I am so grateful that in this challenging place God has given us friends whose value can't be measured.  We had other friends who were praying for us, helping us with medical advice, giving us antibiotics from their own supplies because the pharmacies were closed, even offering to come get us and take us to the clinic.

    As we were preparing to leave the clinic, Daniel said "well now I can mark that off my bucket list."  We asked him if he seriously had getting hurt and receiving medical treatment in a third world clinic on his bucket list and he said "yes, I did."  What kind of ten year old has a bucket list?  And what kind of ten year old has THAT on his list?  When I asked Daniel's big brother those questions his reply was "a cool one!"  I tend to agree with both Josh and with another friend who said we need to talk to Daniel about working on a safer bucket list.

10 Reasons to Dislike Secret Santas

I don't care for secret santa games. In fact I don't care for any games other than the kind where everyone sits around a table and uses a board with "little men" or a deck of cards. "Ice breaker" is a phrase that instills horror and dread for me. But I always participate because I feel like a Scrooge if I don't. With the exception of my spouse, I always thought I was odd for feeling that way, until my friend TJ wrote about it on her blog and listed all the same reasons I have had in the past, at one time or another, for not liking secret santas. Now, to be fair, I must share that last year our ladies Bible study group did a "secret sister" activity that lasted several weeks. We filled out detailed surveys first, which went to everyone in the group. No matter whose name you drew, you got to read everyone's survey and we all got to know each other better. The surveys covered favorite colors, songs, Scriptures, snacks, etc; names of family members, and prayer requests. The goal was not just giving but praying, and we all were blessed by it, including me. I still groan on the inside when people start talking about secret santas, but I recognize that it can be done in a way that truly blesses someone. To see TJ's list click the link below.

TJ's Musing: 10 Reasons Why I Hate Secret Santas

More Than The Sum...

The Democratic Republic of Congo is a country of extremes, both good and bad. A few examples:
• The most thunderstorms and the most lightning in the world
• The world’s second largest rainforest, after Amazon
• One of the world’s richest nations in natural resources, including copper, diamonds, coltan, and the world’s largest producer of cobalt.
• The world’s second poorest nation according to the United Nations Human Development Report
• A river with potential to supply electricity for all of Africa, yet only 9% of the country’s citizens have access to electricity
• The only place in the world where the bonobo apes and the okapi live in the wild, yet the bonobos, chimpanzees, and gorillas are endangered here, partly because of bushmeat trade
• The world’s second highest infant mortality rate
• Ranked 164 out of 178 coutries by Transparency International for level of corruption
• The highest rape incidence in the world; approximately 48 every hour
The election scheduled to take place on November 28 is no exception to the Congo’s propensity for uniqueness. The 57 page ballot is perhaps the longest in world history. There are eleven presidential candidates. Depending on your source, some 18,000 to 19,000 candidates are vying for just 500 parliamentary positions. There are 32,500,000 registered voters, and, interestingly, 64,000,000 ballots have been printed. The election results are scheduled to be announced on December 6. Please pray for this wealthy-but-impoverished, beautiful-but-chaotic country during this election season. The Congo is more than just the sum of its statistics, it is a people who longs for peace, living in poverty amid untapped wealth. Pray for a peaceful election season. Pray that as they go to the polls to select their leaders, their hearts will be drawn to the King of Kings, who can give them peace that passes understanding and make them heirs with Christ.

Related articles

• Pray for the Congo (DRC) this week (wisecounsel.wordpress.com)