My Mom

 

I think the hardest thing about losing mom, is she’s just not there. Not there for the random call or text message asking any and every question. Or sending a quick picture or a funny meme. Not there to pray over the phone with me or to be that listening ear that she always was. Not be there to call on the phone and just start crying when I hear her voice, and for her to say its ok to cry…crying is ok.

As a child she was always there in front of me, MY whole world. I would always run to her, whether to show my new toy, a new trick on the swing, a tooth falling out, my A on a school project. She made birthdays fun and special and ended each one with “was it an ok birthday Meg?”. She was the reason my main goal in life was to be a mom.

As I got older, she was no longer front and center but more in the background as I tried to figure out independence. But she was always still there for advice and guidance.

As I became a mother, she moved out of the background and came to my side. Where I needed her help to know how to raise a baby, where I was now doing the things I had seen her do throughout my life. In the little stuff – looking for the family recipe, and in the big stuff, like traveling to see me every time I had a new baby.

Over these last 4 years as she got and then fought cancer, she moved back to front and center in my life. I wanted her to know I was here to try and meet any need she had, to make sure she knew how much I loved her! 

Mom had the gift of serving. Especially when it came to her family and friends. She knew their favorite food, blanket, or tv show and she would prepare it when they came to visit or send it in a care package. Getting a package from mom was not just some items thrown in a box and sent off to college, Kentucky, Montana or Africa. It was LOVE in a box, felt from thousands of miles away, like a big warm hug.  Mom liked to say, love is an ACTION word and she expressed her love in these ways. It started with little notes in my lunchbox at school and I remember feeling so proud that my Mom showed love to me this way. Later, as the packages would come across the world, it became a game at times of how many things she could fit in that box. When it arrived, you opened it and there was something in every nook and cranny.

Mom was a hugger. When the kids were little she started giving them squeeze hugs. Where she would hold them tight in a hug and say “squeeeeeeeze” and gently rock them back and forth in the hug. It became something they looked forward to and talked about and imitated. It’s what made me a hugger. So that in our home every kid is hugged at least twice a day…a good morning and goodnight hug. One of her favorite books to read the kids was the Hug book, and later the companion book the book of kisses in which she crossed out the grandma kisses in the book and wrote “Nonna kisses”.

Mom was thoughtful and kind. She would keep track of special days in people’s lives and send cards or notes of encouragement. Birthdays, Anniversaries, but also days of people’s sadness, reaching out to make sure no one felt alone.

I never saw her get upset at a worker or sales clerk, or get irritated in traffic (the way I can) or in general be impatient with the pace of people in her life.

She taught me the patience song, which I often needed as a child and still need today. When I was home last time we sang it together. The one from Herbert the snail 😊 “Have patience, have patience…don’t be in such a hurry”.

Mom was a good listener. To my constant chatter when I was a kid, to funny stories about my own kids. Whenever anything was on my heart or bothering me, I knew I could call her. Even after I moved overseas, she kept in touch, always wanting to know how I was doing. It was especially sweet with her sticky notes above her desk with the Zambian timezone, and later added DC and Berea.

One of my favorite childhood memories is coming home from school and mom having made me a snack, homemade cookies or Rice Krispy treats. We would sit at the counter talking about my day at school. It was and still is, one of the most comforting memories I have.  

I acquired my love of baking from mom and will always cherish the times in the kitchen together and my inherited “sweet tooth” and love of ice cream.

 

Mom was involved in many Newcomers groups, book clubs, Knitting groups but most importantly what I remember was her bible studies. Some days I would come home from school and see her bible and notebook laid out on the table next to her chair where she had been studying her lessons to teach her group. Especially when she was in the days of BSF. As a child that was a great example to me to have a mom who read God’s word and who prayed. When I was little I remember her with a cup of tea in her hand in her pink terrycloth long robe sitting down with her bible and her prayer list. To have seen her now at the end, still praying for her family and friends and still loving God and trusting Jesus…that was a testimony in itself.

She has fought the good fight. She has held fast to the end, to Christ, her hope. That is HER Whole World now. She is in that beautiful place that we can’t comprehend, that seems so far off and so unlike anything in our world. Where there is no more darkness and sadness and tears. Only light, peace and joy.  

 

 

 

 

 

Adjustments

 

Well as we know it life has its twists and turns. And after 2 months of reeling from what was a shock to us all initially, I’m ready to process it through writing.

Our start to the new year was a new job for James. We weathered the storm of Covid to his shipping company, but the stress associated with that job along with the constant demands from people complaining about what always amounts to their “stuff” not being delivered on time or in a matter that they wanted when its being tracked across the globe, ended up being too much. We knew it was time to get out even though our money was tied up in the company and despite the fact that the life was seemingly to be sucked out of my husband on a daily basis. So, he found a job as a country manager for a business, and we had hopes of the extra income from a new job in the corporate world, to be the thing that was going to change us. Change our financial state, change our constant battles with not ever seeming to get to the place where we have anything extra, and change us finally getting free of our debts and thus in tern finally getting us to that elusive place where all our hopes and dreams can finally be actualized because when it comes down to it, its money that always seems to hold us back. Right?!

And then after 3 months of working extremely hard and many, many long hours for this company in setting everything up and getting key clients on board, they dropped him. Work Permit, Immigration, Contract issues however they wanted to put it - from our perspective, it was clear they didn’t want the expense of keeping him on payroll. So that was that. In hindsight we saw signs that maybe this wasn’t going to be a good thing.

But we were still surprised and didn’t really know what to make of this turn of events.

But here’s the nutshell. We took a week to think about it and pray and he decided to start a woodworking, wood drying business. He is still getting a small income from his courier company, the business he bought into with his other shareholders, but this new business would be his own and what he wanted to do. Quality anything is hard to come by in Zambia and there is nowhere that sells dried wood. So, he spent the last 2 months building a solar kiln and he is now starting the process to dry wood.

Its quite interesting how it all works but he’s got several orders in the queue to make things for people mostly furniture and small things for now. He’s trying to figure out the market and alternative sources for getting logs and wood and the milling and transportation process etc. It’s a lot to get started especially when there are no “startup” funds for this business, but we are at a good place now having learned what we want to do and how to do it.

Especially we have learned over all these years since ending ministry work, what we want and what we need for our family wise. Its not at all a secret among the family that I like Monday mornings, when everyone goes back to school, to work to their routine- that I like my personal space, and that I like to be alone at home sometimes which never actually happens especially since we’ve been homeschooling, or the kids have been doing online learning for pretty much the last 20 years. But its still something I try to obtain. I’m not sure I think maybe there was 1 year in the last 20 when everyone was at a school, but I can’t recall. I can’t even keep track of the number of “disagreements” over feeling like my home space was being invaded by pretty much everyone whose home it was also…strange. But I’m sure some of you can relate.

I don’t even know what that’s like to drop your kids at school as a stay-at-home mom and then have the whole day til you pick them up. Anyway. That’s ok. Its fast approaching now where the house will be empty and then I’ll be weeping over that.

So, all that to say the biggest fear I had of James doing a business from home was not that the risk was too much. Cause we were already at a place where we had nothing, absolutely nothing to lose in trying.

But the biggest fear was that he was going to be home. Working, but HOME.

And I am not sure how I got to the place where that was a problem. He worked from home as a pastor for about 15 years, but in the last 10 I think I’ve come to be ok with knowing who I am and what I can try to overcome and what I need for my own state and I’m ok with that.

So my biggest fear was walking through the house on my way to do my house work or business and he was going to be there.  My day-to-day routine with those kids that are home is pretty laid back. Everyone just grabs their own breakfast and lunch too and I didn’t want to have expectations on me that we would all be sitting around the table for every meal during the day etc.  I also didn’t want o feel guilty if I was taking a break reading a book, wasting some time on the internet or the rare occasion that I would sneak off to my room and watch a tv show. With my business I also run around a lot. So in my mind I didn’t want to feel every time I got into the car to head somewhere that I would need to say goodbye I’ll be back and so on and so forth.

All these examples to explain why in my mind this working form home was going to be problematic for us, for me especially. I even googled how to work form home and still get along with each other. Basically, my thoughts about retirement and how that would some day play out, were fast forwarded and I was stressed.

But, I am so thankful God has been good and given us much help. We have worked out a routine now (the first weeks were rough, and emotions were intense and high- mine of course!), he’s got an office now (Emma’s old room- which yes she was helped to move out quickly in part because of this and I know she is still working through our quick decisions, but with a good attitude at least 😊). His office accesses the back porch and can get to his workshop that way without going through the whole house. Part of the problem is the layout of the house is so bad, that anyone wanting to get to one part of the house must go through the main areas. I diverge but that is an issue in this rental house that we are so thankful for but also, we get so frustrated with at times too.

Also I realized that I don’t have to interact with everyone every time I see them. That’s too much. Just cause someone walks by me and I am at my desk, or I’m sitting on the couch

A.      I don’t have to say anything to them

B.      I don’t have to know where they are going or what they are doing

And likewise, the same for me. So that continues to be a work in progress, but it’s a forward moving work, which is really all I can ask for. I have been so thankful that my business has really started to grow this year and I am putting a lot of effort into that, probably am a 75% working mom at this stage in life. That also is working out for us, and I am thankful that I can put my efforts and time into running my business from home as well, and that I can also be contributing in that way.

Right now, though, Home is a noisy place, and ironically its no longer from all the kids. Some days after dinner and everyone is doing their own thing, the house and yard are finally quiet. We currently have 5 staff working on the property. 2 for the house, 2 for my bakery and 1 for James’s business. The 2 house staff also work in our businesses as well So it is A LOT. I have started finding a day or two a week to leave home just to get some quiet and do some work, sometimes I will linger long at a coffee shop after my deliveries or checking on my products in stores just to be able to get some things done. But I am SO Thankful we have fallen into a good routine and our stress levels have lowered and things at least at home are going along smoothly.

James has been getting several custom orders and now after getting the wood in the kiln and starting the drying process he has started making some small projects for selling. He has made some beautiful things already and I continue to be pleasantly surprised at his skill and creativeness. Since his company is now registered, we can incorporate Jackson’s leatherwork into the company as well and will continue to develop that aspect as time allows. Caleb has been saving to get a welding machine and has been interested in ironwork so that’s a great complement to the crafts if he chooses to get involved in that.

So, Williamson Craftsmen Co. was born!  

Sometimes the very thing that you thought would provide you the security and stability that you desperately wanted was the very thing that was going to take you farther and farther from those goals. And sometimes in order to take a risk you must be at the place where you say, well what have we got to lose at this point really?

I am thankful and we are very much feeling peaceful now. And I did very much have to literally call my best friend and have her give me a pep talk… Megan you can do this. It will be hard but you can! You can support and encourage this business and it can be a very good thing for your family.

So, in the end having the prospect of “more money” with trying to find another job in the corporate world and the prospect of “more time” with a family business that the kids can be involved in especially in their last years at home, definitely tipped the scales.  I am proud of James.  His ambition and drive to keep working hard for our family has never wavered in over 27 years. He is the Man!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Frustrations and Disappointments

 Well, I was all of 9 days into a new year and I already felt like I had blown it. Sound familiar to anyone?

Yes, I said no expectations, but surely, I DID expect to be able to get back to work. And I did expect to be able to meet up with friends. And I did expect to be able to go out into the world and the grocery store…I mean those aren’t really “true” expectations, are they? Just to be able to function in my life?

Jet Lag at this age and across continents I have learned can be rough. Actually, after this most recent trip home we’ve decided we need to not just look at the bottom line what is the cheapest ticket but what is the best route and do we need to gradually make our way back over across the world when coming home. Those things that begin to factor into your life when you realize I’m not resilient I won’t just bounce back into things. So, a week ago Tuesday when I started feeling crummy, I chalked it up to lack of sleep and the havoc that the traveling and the stress of the last 2 months have been on my body. But unfortunately, it was more than that. Turns out it was Covid.

And I was frustrated. To the point of tears. Not because I felt so terrible and achy and feverish and wasn’t keeping much food down…you would think those would be the causes of frustration.

 But I was frustrated because my plans…

My plans to start back into normalcy on Monday January 10^th, 2022 were to be thwarted. As good but also challenging as being away for 9 weeks was and the ups and downs of family life and the USA visit, my mind was laser focused on “well at least” things will return to our routine. Come mid January, I need to have normal routine in my life. I need the kids to go back to school. I need James to go back to work. I need Staff to come back and life to return to the manageable chaotic “normal” that it is. Those in the cold weather climates often have the January Blues. The hype of the holidays are over, family has scattered once again and its cold outside and disappointment and depression sets in. That’s how I feel when the “normal” does not start. And I should know by now.

I really should.

Almost every January, school is scheduled to start at a certain date and the government changes the date, last minute. One year it was for the Cholera outbreak. Another year it was for political reasons. Then for Covid. Then because the grading of the national exams were not finished and the kids couldn’t start. Then for Covid again.  You would THINK by NOW…I would be used to the changes. That I would anticipate the last-minute changes and that would become normal. But no.

So, I started thinking, well what happens when things, good things and good intentions don’t go your way. Yes, we can rest in knowing it’s for the best. Maybe I needed this extra time to recover then I normally would have given myself. And maybe my kids need a bit more time to recoup before starting into their programs for the year. James reminded me of the huge blessing that getting Covid now, here at home was INSTEAD of when we were getting our PCR tests to travel. We could have been banned from coming home, and how much more of a basket case I would be then. (My words, not his 😊) And its so true. When I put that into perspective, I’m glad I have it now rather than 2 weeks ago. And we are fine, this isn’t a terrible thing, my point isn't really the Covid but rather the disappointment, the frustration.

 I’ve realized as human beings, in our lives, we need time to process. 

Time to feel the disappointment and the frustration. Time to feel the hurt.

I used to think because we trust in God’s Sovereignty and that all things are going to work out for the best, then that means somehow, we just shouldn’t feel or have those emotions. It’s a lack of faith, lack of trust, lack of love. That essentially its wrong to have those emotions. And I am learning that that is just not true. Yes, outbursts of rage and anger at someone because of our disappointment are wrong. But our disappointment and frustration and sadness and even anger at times are not in themselves wrong. By quickly skipping over the hurt I have also realized it doesn’t help you get over it quicker. It might even just stuff it down for another day. Who knows? Just maybe. And then that might blow up at any unsuspecting moment. (Life experiences are telling me this) 

So, what I’m trying to think through and learn over these days, months and years is that as Christians, as human beings, we need to be able to feel. Our emotions are not to be cut off just because we know God is in control. The 'harder' emotions, the ones that maybe aren't pleasant to feel, that we don't really know what to do with at times. We need to feel them. To go through them. 

So when you are into a new year, day 9 even and you already have felt disappointment, you already have felt like things are not going as you had hoped, take encouragement that God sees us.

 He gave us our emotions, He knows our frame. He is good.

I came across the song/video/oratorio “The God who sees” by Nicole C. Mullen and Kathie Lee Gifford

Watch it, listen to it. It’s beautiful.

 God sees us. Each joy and triumph and each frustration and tear.

This whole year, God is going to see us.

And if you are a weepy middle age woman, or not, that statement right there can give you joyful tears.

 

No Expectations, but Hope.

This cursor on the blank page flashing at me is kind of like this year ahead, 2022.

There’s nothing written yet. The options are endless. Anything can happen.  Sometimes we might feel stuck in our lives, a never-ending cycle of doing the same things over and over. Good things maybe, the right things even, but because of the monotony of it we may “feel” like we are stuck. We’ve lost our joy, maybe lost our bearings and most discouragingly we have lost our hope.

We all need hope. We can’t thrive without it. And I want to thrive this year.

I think 2021 was a year of losing hope for me.  To back it up, we all know how terrible 2020 was. But somehow, we got through it onto the other side. I tried to see the challenges as blessings. The USA college kids were home and got to spend much more time here then they had in years. I had traveled so much across the world and back in 2019 for Mom’s cancer, that I was very content to have to stay put.

But…The wearing of the masks, the canceling of school and social distancing and the fear that was spread across the world and families and homes and supermarkets was tiring. That to me was the worst part. But we made it through. In my mind there was some fanciful thought that 2021 would be different. That the year would start, and life and the world would be back to normal.

But it wasn’t.

And I did not handle that well. I became irritable, angry, depressed even. Not having much hope. As the pandemic continued on it severely effected our business and income and financial trouble was added into that mix, and it was not pretty. To sum it all up, I look back at the first part of 2021 and I was discontent. Somewhere in the middle of the year I felt things changed, I accepted that life was how it was, not any easier but the acceptance came and a few months later I came to the realization, through a conviction, that I had turned into a complaining person.

And I was brought face to face with the reality that we had taught our kids from an early age, not to be complainy and whiney children. We sang songs about doing all things without complaining or grumbling, memorized verses, disciplined for bad attitudes, and really put effort and time into that aspect of developing their character. And God really blessed it and them. (Those that know our kids I’m fairly confident can testify that they are not complainers)

But me… Certainly that can’t be said of me. Here I was doing the opposite of what I had wanted for my kids. I was failing miserably in that. I could give myself excuses, “but life here is hard”, “but that person was rude to me”, “but I’m hungry…crampy…tired…” fill in any blank and there always seems to be a justification in my mind of why it should be ok. But its not. Because not only is it a bad example to my kids and the world around me, it sucks the life and joy out of the home. Everything is a downer.  I had come to realize that, apologized to my family and am setting out on a new course of “trying” to not complain.

 As I thought about the year, with the way 2019, 2020 and 2021 have gone I figured I’m not looking to set any records. Things are going to happen how they happen. So, as I start 2022 there are

No goals.

No Resolutions.

No Declarations.

And definitely, No Expectations.

And its funny how I feel the most hopeful in that. Because from what I have learned in my life the last few years, it is the expectations that really trip me up. I’ve often thought I need to lower my expectations but this year, no. There will be no Expectations.

 Most often it is my mind of how I think things should be. How I think someone should have responded to me. How I see where I am in life and where I thought I would have been and the expectations that surround that. I get caught up in wanting/needing/expecting everything to be just right and I miss the small things. The happiness in the everyday.

So, for 2022

I want to be marked by a content heart and attitude.

I want to be easy on people and myself.

I want to think on the Goodness and Kindness of God

I want to keep a record of the blessings we see tangibly and answers to prayer this year

And I want to write…

Somehow, I feel like I’ve got about 2 years bottled up inside waiting to be typed out. Lots of blank pages with cursors staring at me in 2022.

So cheers to a new year with no expectations, but definitely some hope.

Our sweet friend.

It’s a Saturday afternoon in 1996 and James and I (newlyweds ourselves) are walking in to the Dues home.  Trenda greets us at the door and says in her super sweet voice, “come on in” giving us both a hug and says we are downstairs watching the game. The Game, can only mean one thing, a University of Kentucky Basketball game.  

Larry was a UK fan. 

Larry says, hi kids! And quickly brings us up to speed on the game.

And it is then that we fall comfortably onto their sofa and more importantly, into their lives.  Their open hearted welcome to us, 2 kids,  will forever hold deep affection and value in our hearts. We were married young and lived away from both our families. We found out soon after meeting the Dues that they both had remarried fairly recently too and we then were affectionately referred to as their  “kids” together. And for us they became a second set of parents.  

Mom and Dad Due.

Our lives quickly became entwined, us driving up from Berea while I was still in college, to stay Saturday nights with them before heading out to church together on Sunday mornings after having breakfast together. This continued for almost a year until we moved to Louisville. When we did move, Larry drove his truck and they came to help us move our few things. We had gotten into a routine when we were staying with them,  we’d arrive in the afternoon, Larry would be busy studying his pharmacy books and preparing for the test to become licensed again as a pharmacist and then we’d watch some basketball on tv. They’d take us out for pizza or barbecue, or Trenda would cook some delicious meal. Sometimes in the evenings after dinner Larry would read the Scriptures to us or tell us what he had been studying lately.  These were sweet beginnings of our friendship.

When we found out I was pregnant with Sarah, we told them they were going to be grandparents again.  They were able to rejoice with us. And they were at the hospital while I was in labor and after Sarah was born. Larry liked to tell the story of James trying to pick up Sarah for the first time out of the bassinet, attempting multiple times with a football hold before actually scooping her up. He would laugh every time he told the story.

As successive kids were born and common sicknesses occurred, we would often call Larry to make sure about the doctors prescriptions or go to the pharmacy where he was working to get the medicine filled. It didn’t matter that it was out of our way, what mattered was the comforting effect of him taking the time to explain to us the dosages and reassuring that the child would be fine. Including the day we left America for Zambia. Larry and Trenda came to our house to see us off and we had just finished breakfast and were trying to get some of the kids to take their malaria pills. It was the first time, some kids were gagging and crying and us parents were stressed out, saying stop crying just take the medicine! I remember so clearly, Trenda comforting the crying kids and Larry very gently and sweetly took the pills and crushed them up to put into the applesauce or peanut butter and helped them take their medicine.

Larry was Gentle and Tender.

When Ian was born, Larry would hold him and call him cheeks…he did have big cheeks. Caleb he called Smiley.

Later as Ian grew up I would be looking for him after church and find him in deep conversation with Larry. His bible tucked under his arm, just as Larry’s was. Larry didn’t seem bored or tired or trying to get away from a talkative kid.  The same could be said for Grace on our last visit home to see them. She talked and talked to him and his little dog, and he just kept smiling and listening. They took the kids to Dairy Queen and Larry had to reassure Jackson several times that he really could get whatever he wanted to eat.  

Larry was so patient and really loved children.

He always was sharing with us the newest pictures of his kids and grandkids and telling us what they were up to in their lives. He was a proud father and grandfather.

Larry LOVED his family. And he loved his Trenda. 

He loved to tease and joke with her. I could see the admiration in his eyes for her even the last time we met in December.The kids and I were sharing memories yesterday, and they recall him sweetly calling her “Trenny”.

We shared so many things of our daily lives together, but I think the Bible Study we had at our house before we moved to Zambia was uniquely special for Larry. He and James would meet together for coffee and talk about it, they had dreamed of it for years. Larry knew God’s word and loved it. He studied it so much, read so many books and listened to thousands of sermons over the years. He knew so much of God’s word and yet was one of the most humble men I have ever met. When asked to teach some of the lessons he would usually defer feeling unqualified and unworthy. But looking back today at that time, out of all of us in that study who taught or could have taught I think he truly was the most worthy. He took God seriously and His Word seriously. He was the most gracious, he had the heart and compassion of Jesus, the brokenness for sin and a tenderness of dealing with other people.

As he got older he and Trenda both would tell us with all the doctrine and theology that was known and all the various teachings of churches, at the end of the day what he wanted and needed was simply Jesus. On a few occasions with tears in his eyes, he would say just give me Jesus. 

And as I write this now tears filling mine I can say

He now has Jesus.

Fully and Completely.

No more pain, sorrow or despair.

I can picture his big smile and amazement of being with Jesus now. He finished his race, he was faithful to the end and his life will forever be remembered by those he touched and welcomed into his own life.  We are so blessed for Larry being a part of our lives.  

Reflections on the HOPE Ministry

10 years ago we started the HOPE ministry, shortly after moving to Zambia. Orphan Care was very much on my heart and whether we were really prepared to jump right into that, or not…we did!

Initially, we were helping an existing ministry in Ndola with their orphan care program, by connecting sponsors to specific children. Since it was a challenge to maintain that support from the distance of Lusaka, we decided to focus on our city and started HOPE Kabanana in Lusaka, with 10 children. We provided for their school fees and lunches, bought schoolbooks and uniforms for them and then also took care of some medical and hygiene needs. The ministry grew and several more children were added to the program. Some kids dropped out, some were removed from the program and more were added.

After several years, the church in Kabanana took over their own support of their orphans and HOPE transitioned to become “Helping Orphans. Providing Education”. We then put all our efforts into helping a different impoverished church in George Compound to care for their orphans and vulnerable children. We also have had opportunities along the way to support a girl’s home over last year and to give assistance in one-time gifts of kitchen cabinets and help with electrical work.  Over the course of the 10 years of HOPE, several buildings were established.

In Kabanana, 2 classrooms, a main hall, kitchen and office were built through funding tied with HOPE.  In George, a well was dug to provide clean and safe water. 2 classrooms were built, as well as a kitchen and office and then most recently a toilet block with proper sanitation. All these buildings and projects were built with funds provided by donors.

Many people have given so generously over all these years to support HOPE. Over the last 10 years I have estimated a total of about 100 children that have at one point been involved with HOPE. Whether it was short lived, such as Nathan a student only needing help for their final years of secondary school or a first grader, Memory who has been with us since her first days in school. This past week I was with her getting her enrolled in 10^th grade, and I am committed to seeing her finish her 12^th grade. 

Through HOPE, children and their guardian’s lives have been impacted.  For some it was briefly, for others it has been almost “life-long”. We have had sick kids, malnourished kids, kids living with HIV, as well as strong healthy kids who have been motivated to make for themselves, a better life. We have tried throughout, but certainly failing at times, to show the love of Jesus to the children. When we fail and when they fail our goal was still that they still would see forgiveness and mercy in Christ.

After 10 years, the time came for the HOPE non-profit to close. I am now left with a mixture of emotions. I look back and think nothing was done in vain. It is not that I see every child of the 100 as a success story, not even close. Sometimes it has been discouragement after discouragement. Kids getting pulled into the destructive lifestyle that they see around them of drugs and dropping out of school, teenage pregnancies and lying and stealing.

Starting a charity in a foreign country is definitely a challenge. It really is one that we knew nothing about until we were here on the ground doing it. Which then inevitably means some mistakes were made along the way. Sometimes the plans and methods we employed were not the best for the culture, sometimes our help actually ended up enabling certain behaviors in the children or in their guardians and sometimes we ended up with kids feeling a sense of entitlement. That was never our intent, but we have learned that giving aid to people can often hinder them.  It doesn’t mean you don’t help, but over time you realize the help changes its form.

As I look back over the 10 years, helping and encouraging and giving to others were the driving forces of HOPE.  We set out to provide opportunities for vulnerable and orphaned children to grow and learn and receive an education and medical care. 

With  HOPE,

Kids were fed.

And they went to school.

Kids learned about sanitation and

For the first time used a proper toilet.

Kids learned to read

Kids heard the gospel of Jesus

Kids were hugged

Kids were loved

Kids were given gifts, by strangers

Kids experienced laughter and joy

And I trust that in all these things that were done they saw the love and care of  Jesus for them. We might have been in the forefront of the care, but it is through the donations that we were able to do any of it. SO, for all those that have supported HOPE in its various forms over this past decade, We ALL say thank you!

WHAT just happened?!?! (10 years in Zambia!)

There are so many ways this blog could go. Things learned, things loved, things hated, things lost, things regained, perspectives changed, lives improved, love endured…it seems so superficial and kind of impossible to try and reflect on our 10 years here.  Should I recount each year and major milestones in our lives? The lowest and highest points of our lives?  The few times I have questioned, why are we even in this 'God-forsaken' Place?  Or, should I make a sweet video of pictures of us (white) people surrounded by all the needy (black) people, giving credence to the “white savior complex” that has been discussed in recent years?  Or, maybe I should just paste a smile on my face, fold my hands in my lap and quietly and humbly say the platitudes of, “ oh, it’s not really so hard to give up and endure here, because we are just ‘praising and loving Jesus?’”

Here's the thing...I do love Jesus. I do want to praise Him. But life in Zambia has not been easy.  These 10 years have been the most grueling of our lives.  Not without joy, not without love and not without happiness, BUT our patience, endurance and ultimately our faith has been tried, it has been tested. The fact that we are still here in this place and STILL loving each other even more, as a family IS a testimony to the Grace of God.  

Our first vehicle here was a 1998 Toyota Prado. It was bought for a ridiculously high amount partly because it was imported from South Africa by way of Tanzania, by way of Japan. The vehicle is solid.  It’s like a tank. It has taken us everywhere in this country and has kept us safe for 10 years. But, it has been through the wringer!  It has been a great family vehicle because it fit our whole family. Not necessarily comfortably, but there were 8 seatbelts; one of the 2 things we specified when ordering the car. It had to have seatbelts AND air conditioning. The Prado has hauled our kids back and forth to school, friends houses, activities, parties, movies, church and the stores.  It has carried many many suitcases – either visitors coming in or for ourselves going and coming from the USA. It has gone to the markets, and held many live chickens. MANY!  The Prado has driven through or around thousands and thousands of potholes on the road over the last 10 years, taking the hit each and every time.  It has traveled on safari many times, with our kids hanging out the window and sitting on top of the vehicle. It has also been sideways in a ditch when the road was washing away in a rainstorm. We were all standing outside in the rain while our vehicle was filling up with water. And, onlookers were stopping by to take pictures of us all, standing there. 

It remained steady during our unexpected mountain climb over real rocks, sandpits, a few boulders and actual burning logs. – Side note: We realized a few villagers pulled logs into the path sometimes burning as well so that the car would have to stop and then you’d have to find someone to help you move them out of the way, of which you would then “appreciate (i.e. PAY) them”.  What these villagers didn’t know is that my husband would call his older sons out of the car to help him and they would move it themselves! All of this was happening on route to what was supposed to be a de-stressing and relaxing family camping trip at Lake Tanganyika. The Prado has carried supplies for countless projects around the house, for community projects as well as off-roading in the bush to check out where we bought land and hope to build our own house some day. But the Prado is showing its wear and is extremely beat up. Dents and banged up places, holes and screws where siding has been replaced, scrapes on the vehicle, alterations have been made. Zambia has been rough on it, BUT it is still running. Still making it down the road.

 THIS IS US

So many times the last few years as I have looked at the state of the car, I see us.  We just sold it this week so maybe that has me more reflective. It feels a bit like a milestone.  Sometimes I am at a loss to explain why we are still here, why we even WANT to be here when things can be so incredibly hard.  Family and friends still don’t understand it. I don’t even understand it at times.

Is it that life here seems MORE real?

Is it that once we stepped away from our own self-absorbed lives, where the main goal was to hunker down and protect our children and ourselves from the “World” at large and we actually came up close and personal with real need and real human suffering that we knew that we couldn’t go back?

-Certainly we could have had that realization in America, many people do and make a great impact where they are in their own communities, but for us that happened here, in Africa.

Is it because we already established ourselves here and in an unexplainable way it feels like HOME?

Is it that the people we can so easily help and impact here, have become a secondary purpose that gives more meaning to our lives?

Is it the fact that our children have grown up vastly different than they would have and we are glad for that difference?

Is it the gratitude that is expressed for simple things that remind us of why we should ourselves be more grateful? Is that what pulls us?

Whenever you meet another expat, there is an unspoken sizing up of each other based on how many years they have lived here.  Judgments are made, and eligibility for friendships are determined all based on the answer to that innocent question, “oh how long have you been here in Zambia?” and “are you planning on staying?” Sometimes the person answering estimates based on wanting it to be longer because you know there is more street cred for that. Whether it’s the Peace Corp workers, Embassy employees or Missionaries, there is generally a 3 year cycle. At some point in those 3 years you think ok, I have made it, I can now understand this culture, get around the city comfortably, and not feel taken advantage of every time. But, then contracts end, “callings” on your life change, kids needs whether academically, medically or spiritually all compel to going ‘home’ and returning to America.  Those that stay past the 10 year mark seem to really be the ones who have not just changed their address but the entirety of their life. And those are the ones that you feel like have really ‘made it. ‘

Sometimes the newbies coming in don’t always understand what it was like living here before development.  (As I am certain I don’t understand what it was like to live here 20 years ago) Before there was availability of cheese and gelato. Before I could find good pasta or chocolate chips. Long before Woolworth’s brought in their food stores, there was Food Lover’s Market and the upscale Shoprite. The era of Shopping Malls being built everywhere in the capital city didn’t exist. And the Chinese had yet to come in and bring their China Malls, For the Love of Home and E Dargon (which we still think is a misspelling of dragon?) stores where now you can buy most any cheapy tacky thing that you want.  Coffee shops were rare, there was the one in town Coffee Talk on Cairo Road and Mimosa at Arcades. That was all. And way long before anywhere had free Wi-Fi and the country had escalators!

In 10 years, Zambia has developed.

But for all the development, there still are injustices though. For all the coffee shops there still are children living on the streets. For all the gelato and Chinese products there is still corruption and theft on so many levels that actually hurt the country. For the movie theaters that have been built and the 4G networks that have come into the country, there are still hundreds of churches teaching a false gospel that say if you just had more faith you wouldn’t be sick, or if you just give us money then God will bless you with a new job or healing.

And for all the roads that have been built for the last 3 years all over this country, making it easier to get from one place to another, there are still people that don’t know their HIV status passing it on to others and there are still way too many children, women and men dying because of poor medical care, lack of care or lack of money to gain access to that care.

Maybe that in itself is the answer.

10 years in and we are still here.

Maybe that is reason enough. 

Maybe it’s the little things and the big things all mixed up together.

-The singing of people driving by packed into the back of a truck standing together

-The smile of the man receiving an orange and a “God bless you” as he lays in his hospital bed

-The wide eyes of a child who has not seen you before peeking out from behind the mother as you walk through the compounds

-The ability of our children to not only interact with others not at all like them, but at times to want to help them

-The fact that one wants to work overseas in the foreign service in part because of her experiences growing up in Zambia, and that another wrote an essay for college applications titled, “Had I stayed in America”, recounting how grateful he was for his childhood in Africa.

-The woman at the market whose face lights up when I attempt a small conversation in Nyanja.

-The random t-shirt someone is wearing from the used clothing barrels that will remind you of something from another time.  This past week it was a T-shirt from a Trace Adkins Concert. I was sitting frustrated in traffic and just looked over and started smiling.

-Driving out of town and seeing the simplicity in the huts and clay buildings and the goats wandering the side of the road which reminds you to just stop and take a breath

-The beauty of the Zambezi River

-The elephants, hippos and giraffes. Seeing them in their real environment never gets old

-The smell preceding the first rain.

-And the first rain. It truly is glorious. So much tension and heat and frustration and angst seem to build up over months and that first real heavy rain comes and you feel so refreshed you just soak it in.

     We spent New Years Eve at a Safari lodge in Livingstone.  The clientele of the place mostly seemed to be everyone that has ever DREAMED of coming to Africa. Jetting in to see Victoria Falls, going on an awesome safari, maybe even doing a “village experience” where you can see how the villagers live. And just like that, a dream can be realized and off they go back to their lives in their own countries.  Everything was new and exciting for them, and when the DJ asked for song requests at the NYE party just after the stroke of midnight and we entered a new decade, the song requested was “I bless the rains down in Africa.”  We looked around at the Zambian staff and the few other African families also staying at the hotel and hesitated but then jumped right in with the song, singing and dancing. It’s a very emotionally stirring song, and to be there on the banks of the Zambezi River where you can see the Mosi-O-Tunya, (the Smoke that Thunders, coming off the Falls) you can't help but think all is right in the world and man, Africa is surely an awesome place!   It was fun to get caught up in it for a moment but at the end of the day, for us it was just another song on another night in a country that in a strange way has become “ours”.  

     I traveled a lot to the USA this past year. Each time I landed in Zambia, and stepped off the plane, climbed down the stairs, walked across the tarmac, felt the heat slap me in the face and smelled the dirt of the earth, I knew I was home.