Eyes open and ready!

We were at the Living Gospel World Mission today. 

Everything was the same as usual, we sat in the front row seats, were given the cold water bottles even for the kids, the choirs came in and out, drums, dancing, beautiful people and voices. James got up to preach, Pastor Phiri said super nice things to the point of embarrassment about how much of an impact James had been in his life and ministry etc etc. This time he even added, how touched they were that he even brought his parents in law to the church. 

Then James started preaching and he translated. 

It was a good sermon, and he still has such gifts in bringing the Word to relate to the most poor of the poor and in any situation in life. I listened as I usually do, but later told him there is just such a difference between how he preaches there, and how he preaches at our regular church with mostly expats in Zambia. 

We went to the Phiri’s house after church and had brought a few things along to give them. A few months ago James had ordered a couple items from the States when he was testing out his shipping with MacSpeedys and we were going to try and sell them here. One was a keyboard and another item was a 2 burner gas stovetop. 

They have been sitting in their boxes in my office for a few months now. James had mentioned we should give the keyboard to the church. Then this morning he mentioned maybe the cooker as well and I told him I was actually thinking about that last night. 

Which is great when we have confirmation that we both were thinking along the same lines. Anyway,  when we got to their house after church we gave them the items and then Nsangu called his wife out to see them and she just started crying and thanking God. 

Since the church service was is Bemba we didn’t realize, but one of the announcements  this morning was they wanted to start a collection to save up to buy a keyboard! 

As the wife was crying I hugged her and said God answered your prayer. 

I think the bigger issue, blessing, encouragement I came away with is this...

God moves on our heart and puts things in our mind to do. If we can just  be sensitive to do them, the blessing we receive in giving to others or even moreso in seeing that God is the one that planned all this out, is greater than we could have planned for ourselves. 

Too often I don’t go ahead and follow through or I will think of the reasons why it might not be the best idea. When we first moved here, James and I both agreed that if ever one of us feels lead to give or do or help in some way that we are free to do that. Whether it be someone begging at our gate, on the side of the road or a acquaintance/friend in need. We don’t need to worry or feel held back by what if the other one of us doesn’t feel that same burden.  We have the freedom. 

As we enjoyed the fantas and the meal they had prepared for us we had a discussion about the church and it was as if after all these years something just clicked. 

We have been visiting them for about 5 years. There was and is need everywhere we look. As we have been able over the years when we get a little bit of money here and there we have helped in small ways. To them they have been big ways. But what I didn’t realize is that out of their whole church only 2 people have jobs. One is a security guard for a company and the other is a bus driver. 

Nsangu has his own house and his only steady income is 350 kwacha. 

He has a 2 roomed house, with a pit toilet outside and is caring for not only his own children but some of his relatives children as well. 

He told us today that he pays his electricity, his water, and then buys 2 bags of mealie for the family. A family of 8. 

As we drove home I did the math. 

His whole family lives on $30 a month. 

I immediately remembered the statistics, “most people in Zambia live on less than a dollar a day.”  The scrolling tagline we showed in one of our videos when we were getting ready to move here. That was talking about an individual, Let alone a family of 8 living on a dollar a day. But here are our friends...a statistic. 

He has begun to think about finding a job apart from pastoring the church so he does not have to struggle so much. Though his wife has reminded him that if he does that, who will be there when so much of the pastor and work is needed for the people.

He has people in his church coming to him asking for food. Most everyone in his church is “poorer” than him. How can you be poorer than that? But I know it is true. 

He shared with us that his burden is for educating people. 

He runs a school out of his church for vulnerable children and they serve nshima to them daily. He said they buy one bag of mealie a week for feeding them. A bag is 80 kwacha. $7. So for about $30 a month, the kids at school can have something in their stomachs. 

The reason he is passionate about education- He says he doesn’t just want to keep handing things out to people. You give them 20 kwacha, they buy tomatoes, sell a few things then next week they are back asking for more. 

And the false teaching and witchcraft is still rampant in the compounds.

If people aren’t educated and can’t read or think clearly then they are gullible and subject to believe anything. If you can’t read or educate yourself especially about God’s Word then how do you know what it says? If you are just taking one lunatics words over another man’s how do you know which one is true and what is TRUTH? 

After James preached and sat down then Pastor Phiri asked him something. 

Turns out they were wanting me to stand up and say something and greet the church. 

6 years ago this would have put me into a panic. I don’t want to stand up in front of people and talk. I mean really what do I have to say that anyone would want to hear? 

But I didn’t even flinch and knew exactly what I wanted to say. 

Thank you to the church for having us come, for always welcoming us. 

I told them that of all the students James had and churches we had visited this one had a special place in my heart. Though we don’t get there often to visit, its not because we don’t want to.  I didn’t even miss a beat. Its what was on my heart. 

Nsangu said the other students still ask him sometimes why does he (Professor James as they called him) love you? What is so special about you? He tells them I don’t know, you should ask him. I’m not particularly sure either. But I know it has something to do with God putting a special person on and in your heart. Maybe seeing the genuine-ness in this man and his family. 

Pastor Phiri asked as we were leaving for help. 

Not help for him, but for help for the school and for his passion of seeing people educated. James told him that we hope as our businesses can grow and become profitable that we can have more to help and give. 

But he didn’t stop there. He was bold. He said, I don’t just mean you. 

You have contacts, people that you know that maybe would want to help. 

We said, ok. We will keep in touch and see what the Lord does. 

But, it’s true. We do know people. People who have $30 a month to give. 

Some are already helping the HOPE Kabanana project, which is great! 

But mostly it reminded me for me. I could give a little more. Not really of my time right now, but If we just gave $10 that could increase his income by a third. Or it could buy lunch for a week for the 41 kids at school. 

We have had our heads down trying to work hard, get our businesses running and growing in the midst of the economy falling. We have past the “why are we still here phase” and that usually doesn't come up anymore. But today I was reminded again, of what one person can do, and the impact they can have and the ripple effect in the life of others, through a small act of kindness, giving of money, time, energy or your own talents. Everyone has something to give to someone in need, in every corner of the world. Most often, it is right where you are. Occasionally, it can be from the other side of the world or in my case as seen today, on the other side of town. 

The point is...

 Be ready, 

Keep your eyes open 

Then go for it!

Bless someone else! 

Storm a Brewing

I had a good visit in America seeing a few friends and my family. We looked at a few colleges for Sarah and I tried not to think about her going off, away, far away to school next year. 

It was hard to say goodbye to my parents though and It seems like it only gets harder each time. We get our luggage checked in and then there is the waiting before you go through security and the waiting after security. It used to be that we would wait together until we had to go, but now since it is hard, better to get the tears done with and over. 

So hard. 

We got home and I had alot of trouble with jet lag both going and coming back, I know...its because I am quickly approaching 40, and maybe the body just takes longer to adjust. Or maybe it was the high level of stress I was under before I left that I never fully got rested and recovered. At any rate the jet lag ended after about a week and then a bad stomach thing took over the next week. I think just re-adjusting to eating the food here possibly. But that wasn’t pleasant. And then there is the adjustment back into life here. The kids did great while I was away. My bakery not so great. And the country, even worse. 

It seems that Zambia went from a 3rd world to a 4th world country while we were gone. 

In the 5+ years that we have lived here, there has been the occasional power outages, but nothing major. We had major water problems the first few years and continue to occasionally have several days in a row where we don’t have any water. Which also makes us thankful for the pool to at least get water from and flush the toilets. 

Our house is on the same electric line as the President’s house and so we rarely had no power, which all along we considered a blessing! But this week we became like every other household in Zambia that is now struggling through daily load shedding. 8-10 hours a day every day the power is off. This week it was 8am to 5 and 2-10pm. It is only fair if everyone has to deal with it, but I will honestly say it has been more difficult mentally and emotionally then it has been logistically. We have a gas stove so have been able to cook and have our meals without any trouble. We have lanterns and candles and if we prepare, after dinner there is just about an hour and a half til bedtime anyway so its not too terrible.  But the water is pumped up into the gravity fed tank that gives us water into the house. Once the tank is empty, say 4 people take a shower and we wash the breakfast dishes, then we are out of water until the power comes back on. 

So far, this means the water is off for about half a day. Still, it can be manageable.

Its amazing how much you can adapt to, and what can become the new normal. 

But the situation has really become a crisis here. 

The main electricity for the country is fueled by the Kariba Dam. There was not much rain last year, coupled with the fact that there was a leak in the dam and so water levels were purposefully lowered to fix the dam (rumors are that they actually then did not fix it) add to that power being sold off to other countries plus huge mining corporations that use a lot of electricity  up in the copperbelt and there is a storm a brewing in this land. 

The kwacha continues to devalue and is currently at 8 kwacha per one dollar. When we first moved here 5 years ago it was at 4.5.   Six months ago it was at 6. The estimates are that by the end of the year the kwacha to dollar rate will be K10 to $1. The economy is tanking. The uncertainty of the future is a bit unnerving. Predictions are that by October ,November there will be a blackout. Even if the rains come early this year (October) and the rain is ALOT, it will still take months for it to effect the water levels and in turn effect the electricity. There is no quick fix. 

It feels like Y2K.  Remember that? December 1999 and people were scurrying around buying generators and stock piling food in basements and bunkers? 

But here, there is a real crisis and no one is prepared or giving help to the people or advising on what to do. 

I am currently typing by candle light and the white screen, taking a chance that the power will come on in the night while we sleep and recharge my laptop before it goes off at 8 again in the morning. 

The options here are generators,- which of course are very pricey and dependent on fuel.  Not too encouraging though when 5 months ago we had a fuel shortage crisis. Inverters- which store the electricity when the power is on- Helpful only if the power routinely comes on for days. It's not going to help when there would be a black out. There are solar lights and cookers and panels, but the availability and the cost of converting those to useable energy make things very expensive and not too feasible either. 

We went to get fuel yesterday at the gas station and there were long backed up lines. I assumed they had no fuel (routinely happens or they are waiting for the fuel truck to arrive). This time they said, the fuel is there, its just the power is off and the generator is not working...well, doesn’t the generator run on fuel? 

Aren’t we sitting at the fueling station?   

Sometimes things just don't make sense. 

The propane is in high demand and the supply can’t keep up with it so now we have trouble getting our gas cylinders filled up for both cooking at home and the Cakery. It can be a couple weeks before the gas is available again. 

The issue of water has been causing me some stress over the weeks and so we just ordered a small generator to use when we need to switch on the pump for the water. Just knowing this is on its way here, gives me some peace of mind. 

Frustrating as it may be, we are getting used to it at home, and it is certainly simplifying life on the home front.  But for the simplification it brings at home, the complication it brings at work is tripled! 

We have most the staff for the Cakery coming in to work the night shift. 

I don’t work the night shift. Its not feasible or doable, or probably even that safe. 

During the week I am in bed by 9. So this has provided many “challenges” ( read: frustration, stress and irritation) when quality and productivity drops because of the time of day the work is done and the lack of external supervision.

But it is pretty much the only “semi-guaranteed” time of day that the power is on at the Cakery. So it is when baking and chip making is done. For now this is working. If there is a black out and there are days when there is no power? Obviously it won’t work. 

I am looking at the cost to get a gas oven ( small one for back up) and to see what an inverter that could run the chip production equipment would cost. Back up plans that need cash obviously. 

My plan was to eventually open a small cafe for breakfast and lunch. We have the space, and had a donation of tables, chairs, stools, cabinets, dishes, mugs, fabrics etc, so that now, though a bit mismatched we could actually do it. 

My aim all along in the business has been to have good quality items. AND to only offer on the menu what we can readily make. A novel idea to many places here in Zambia. There is nothing more frustrating at a restaurant here than to sit down, look over the menu for 5 minutes, finally decide , have your order taken, only to be told 5 minutes later, oh sorry we don’t have that today. It’s finished. 

So now with the power cuts, I have turned my focus to just a few simple but good items for the menu that can all be done on the gas stove or grill or be prepared the night before. 

Breakfast: Pancakes, Egg n Bacon, Homemade Granola, Bagels, Doughnuts

Lunch: Shredded Barbecue Chicken Sandwiches, Tacos, Chicken Salad Wrap and Hamburgers.  

Keeping it simple and I’m keeping it American.  

Sorry Sir. There will be no fish heads, caterpillars, and nshima served here. 

A couple restaurants in our area have folded or are going downhill recently due to the common problems with utilities but also the economy. The opportunities are still there though. The zambian middle to upper class as well as the expat community still want somewhere decent to eat. Even more so now that they cant cook at home. 

So, if we can prepare ourselves and weather the storm, there might actually turn out to be a beautiful double rainbow (double blessing..favor, favor) with a pot of gold at the end.  If I can just. hang. on.

But, if a year from now I just still see the storm clouds and there’s no rain or rainbow even, let alone a pot of gold... well then, I gave it a good run.  

Busy / Pressure / Stress

I haven't blogged in 4 months. I think I have started at least 3 different ones and never got them posted. Then when you go so long it seems pretty mundane to just throw something out there but thats life.  Which just got even busier the last few months as a new year started. 

The kids finished their first term of school, their month long break and have just started back again this week. 

I home schooled Jackson and Caleb and that went well despite my not being always available to teach them. I think I mentioned before that my goals are high for them but my expectations are low...yeah try to make sense of that one. 

I know they learned a lot more than they would have if they stayed in their previous school situation and for that I am thankful and I don’t have added pressure on myself that we have to be at a certain place. I’ve been a parent now for 18 years. I’ve got 6 kids and I am pretty much done with worrying about whether they know every exact thing that other kids know, and is this curriculum better than the next and will this one test ok,  etc. etc. 

Apart from the homeschool this year, My time has been split up as well with the Cakery and HOPE Kabanana. We are making progress with the orphan program though it can still be a discouraging and daunting task. We have a great new website in case you haven’t checked it out. www.hopekabanana.org 

My thoughts there as well have been whatever time and effort I can give to it, no matter how small it may seem is still better than how it was going previously so again, no pressure...

The Cakery on the other hand IS Pressure. 

Business slowed down for the entire first quarter and the December high I was on quickly faded. We crept through the months all the while everyone kept telling us business is slow the first quarter in Zambia in general. I fired one staff, (which was a first) tried out 2 that didn’t work and then added 2 more that seem to be doing ok for now and promoted one to a manager. SO I have 4 full-time staff. 

The business started in the house. Me making cakes. Then we added a staff. Still in the house. In September we moved the business out of the house into the empty staff house that is on the back of the property. The rooms had to be fitted for everything plumbing and electrical and it worked well out there for 9 months. 

One month ago though stress was rising and the kids even commented on how our home was no longer comfortable and they didn't want to play outside because you never knew who was going to walk by. Staff and customers daily in and out of our property gate and our home was not private anymore. So we decided that we needed to move the business. Even just for safety. So I told the kids one day to start praying that we would find a place. And that every time they saw someone that was not part of the family in our yard to pray. As Ian pointed out that would be like 10 times a day!  Exactly! 

After just 2 weeks we found a place that was very near ours and that I can walk to. We were able to negotiate a decent rate and we moved into it this week. The amazing thing is that we also got the plumber and electrician and carpenter to come by and set up everything this week as well. So here, friday evening we are fully moved in, even have hot water and exhaust fans in place.  That in itself is an amazing thing for Zambia. The Lord has answered prayer and I am very thankful for that!

So next week I will start school again with the boys. Sarah will be tutoring them for an hour and a half every morning while I am gone checking on the Cakery. Then when I come home I will teach them the rest of the morning.  Emma is also going to be doing school at home and so she has started back into the DVD programs this week and is looking forward to that. 

James is working harder than I have ever seen him work (which is saying alot!) and doing a great job with his business. It is growing and doing well and we are hopeful by the end of the year they will be starting to make a profit. It continues to be long hours and busy days and stress for him as well. We are looking forward to things settling down at some point. Whenever that may be.

The kids are chipping in where needed and despite the stress the family is doing very well. We are looking forward to home being more peaceful and relaxed and for it to be a retreat once again from the constant general challenges of life in Zambia. If you can't take a break from it all even at home, things will not go well. (Speaking from experience). You got to be able to shut the door/gate (literally) on the world outside so that you can be refreshed and ready to go at it again when you step outside!  

Evolution of Sundays.

Ahh. I Have my very weak latte in hand,(just how I like it)  a reject vanilla cupcake from the cakery and a tiny square of chocolate. AND it’s raining on Sunday. Our one day of rest and time alone with the family. 

Our sundays have evolved over the last 5 years since living here in Zambia. 

It used to be...

That we all were rushing around in the morning for everyone to get ready and get out the door in time to go to sunday school and then stay on for the morning service. 

Our first year here we attended a zambian church of about 500 people. They have sunday school services, morning services, and afternoon services. We were all lined up in the pew every sunday morning. Squished in the rows, sometimes about to faint from the heat and stagnant air in the building. The kids ventured into their sunday school classes, sat through their lessons trying to understand what was being said to them and enduring other children randomly reaching out behind them in class, touching their hair. The adults sat in small groups for prayer meeting not understanding even with the english that was spoken, what was being said. Voices were quiet, heads were bowed and prayers were made and sadly I didn’t understand any of it. We heard the preaching again because of the accents at least half the time I couldn’t follow what was being said. We filtered through greeting lines, trying our hardest to be “culturally” sensitive. 

Year 2, we had just adopted Grace. Sundays now became extra challenging as James began preaching at various vernacular speaking churches out in the poorer communities. We would all go as a family to many of them. The kids learned how to be ushered into the front where the seats of “honor” were, stand when introduced as a family and drink the coke/sprite/fanta offered as a special gift. A few times lunch at the pastors home or at the church, followed these services and I can only say it was in these moments that my kids, though it was very difficult, they shined. They learned more about true humility, privilege, need, lack of complaint and sacrifice on both our part and the churches. 

We attended churches meeting in houses, run-down buildings, tents and under trees. “Church” became as varied as people are. People loving God and serving Him, but in many different ways and aspects of that service to God. Though our experiences were developing and various aspects of our own families character, it was still a very difficult time.  Grace was having many challenges and cried and screamed all the time. Because Sundays her routine was in more upheaval it then became the worst day of the week. This caused many, many uncomfortable moments in strange unfamiliar churches and more stares than I care to remember and more feelings of inability. All the while trying to smile my way through it and appear as if I still had everything together. 

Sundays became a test of  “endurance”.  Hundreds of hours over the first few years here, were spent walking around outside of church services, trying to either pacify  Grace, (myself) or to provide an “out” for my kids who were also struggling to hang in there for the 3rd hour of the service. Some attempts were made to “try” on my part the first year or so, in getting to know people and develop friendships but after not feeling much of a connection with anyone, many tears were shed as the isolation I felt in particular grew stronger and stronger. 

At some point thankfully, we realized that our own expectations for our kids don’t have to match other peoples. Yes we came here to fit in and serve, but that didn’t mean that we then would set expectations on our own family that we didn’t see as necessary. 

Year 3,  we joined a small zambian church plant, that was meeting at our friends farm. The familiarity of the group of people, a time during the service where they took the young children out to teach them, and having a few other white faces of friends in the crowd all was a great encouragement and helped us to think, maybe, just maybe this will work for us. James continued to preach at the vernacular churches, but less often and we tried to become more connected to this smaller local church. 

It was this year as well that we decided to join an International Bible Study. Many other missionaries and people living in Lusaka attend Zambian churches, or are in “ministry” works in the morning at various churches so the afternoon bible study became a place for them to rest, soak in some teaching and be ministered too, rather than always being the ones ministering. As we were not sent with a mission team, or connecting with other missionaries here, this place became a strong connection to finally developing some other friends, and especially became foundational for our kids to get to know and develop friendships with other missionary or ex-pat kids. That seemed like the tide changer for them. 

Year 4 , we heard about an International Community Church where some of the people from this Bible Study attended and they asked James to help with the preaching. We decided to become involved with the church and many of the kids friends were also attending the church. It was at this point that we stopped attending strictly zambian churches. By this time it had become a very easy and clear decision. For the good of our family, we needed this change. Whatever pre-conceived thoughts and notions we came with as we moved here, in the end what mattered was finding a place where we could fit in and grow. So, we joined in with a group of people that however different they are, everyone is seeking to serve and love God in whatever their callings are. 

Its a mixed bunch of ex-pats, missionaries, zambians. It’s worshipping with the africans, europeans, australians, koreans, and americans. It is a truly diverse group and pretty much covers the globe. And that part is pretty amazing and reminds me of what heaven will be like with people from all over the world. 

What it has also meant though, is lots of goodbyes. People come and go. 1, 2 or 3 year stints for work or peace corp or missions related projects. People working with Embassies, or government related projects, etc. We just said goodbye to a very dear Korean family that was with us for only one year. A few times when we were all singing, they would sing the same thing in Korean, and I just loved that!  For our kids in just the 2 years we have been attending the church they have had several friends leave to go back to their native country, or away to boarding school or on to prepare for university. 

As our “need” for connecting with others was now being filled with this new church, at the same time our work and business lives were becoming more hectic, (working Monday-Saturday) we dropped the afternoon bible study for resting at home with our family. It was one of the best decisions for actually finding Sunday to be a day of rest. It is no longer run yourself ragged with all day churches services and activities every week, sitting in hot buildings with people staring at you, or going to church, coming home for 2 hours and then going back to church. It is a day of worship, but it is also a day of rest. To rejuvenate and refresh ourselves for the next week ahead. It’s also the only day of the week that we don’t have workers and staff here at the house. 

So we worship, we come home and eat our Sunday meal of pasta on the porch, then occasionally break out the American candy for a treat, play a game, take a walk with the kids, basketball or football in the yard, then we have coffee in the afternoon, a few hours of downtime and its evening and preparing for school, lunches etc and the next week ahead. 

So, here we are year 5. 

God has called us to be part of our current church and to help in the ways that we are able, and that we can all handle at this time. James is preaching. Everyone wants to go to church, the kids have friends, and “ for me” (a zambian saying) after 5 years I finally don’t feel that complete awkward, almost on the verge of tears, I have no one to talk to as we all stand around after church, feeling. I do have friends.  

75% of the time I go to church now, I know we will get some of the best preaching in Zambia. And I can clearly understand the man, no trouble with accents or meanings, I get him...more than words can say. :)   

Today though as we were finishing our game together on the porch, it started raining. I do love the rainy season, it made me think of the country song, raining on Sunday. 

Not a “spiritual” song by any means, but rather one of resting on a Sunday!  

Something I have just been really experiencing in the past year. 

“Pray that it’s raining on Sunday...storming like crazy and we’ll hide under the covers all afternoon. Baby whatever comes Monday can take care of itself, we‘ve got better things that we can do. Cause it’s raining on Sunday.”

A comfortable life

(This month marks 5 years that we have been living in Zambia. I have had several different trains of thought so maybe a few blogs on the subject. ) 

5 years ago we said our goodbyes, through many tears and some excitement as well at what lay ahead. We slept our last night in our home that we built and expected to raise our family in. We left our dear friends Larry and Trenda standing on our front porch as we loaded up to leave. 

The same front porch that for hours we sat on and watched the kids play in the front yard. Running barefoot in the green grass, flying kites in the wind, eating pizza spread out on picnic blankets, sledding down the hill into the neighbors yard, building snowmen and throwing snowballs, Birthday parties, water balloon fights, Basketball, and bike rides. Rocking in the rocking chairs and watching the sunset. 

And that was just the front yard.

Back yard was trampoline tricks and hours and hours on the pirate ship and swing set. Walks around the property into the woods and the back field. Skating on the makeshift pond, zip lining down from the treehouse. Picking wild blackberries, tending our baby fruit trees and hoping they would make it. Hiding in the hay bales, watching the deer and wild turkey, seeing the mist rise up in the evenings and the dew in the morning spread out across the ground. 

It was home. A place we belonged.

In a sense it was our little “kingdom”. Protected, safe, and focused mainly on our family, and being the best little (ok who am I kidding,  big) family that we could be. 

Home used to be a nice house, comfortable surroundings, conveniences, hot water, plenty of bathrooms and space for the children to run wild and free.  Beautiful landscape, familiarity, friends riding up on horses, bible studies in basements, desserts at the dinning room table and space.  Belonging and familiarity. 

Solitude, Peace, Quiet.  and, did I say comfortable? 

And now we live in a place we don’t belong, renting an old house that is home but feels nothing like home and laughing at the irony that of the 5 houses we have owned it is THIS rented house that we have lived in the longest. 

Home now, when I read what I just read above can’t even really be compared. In fact I almost started crying as I was reminiscing. 

Home (at least this month) is heat and rain and flies and waterbugs that find their way up into your drains, sinks and across your bedroom floor. It’s mosquitos and more mosquitos and having to bug spray yourself just to sit in your own living room and watch a movie at night. It’s looking out across the yard at concrete walls surrounding you and hearing the banging on gates at early hours of the morning. It’s campaign vehicles driving through your neighbor hood blaring their message across their loudspeakers. It’s mourners packed into mini-buses and on the back of trucks singing their songs as they go to the burials. It’s traffic, car horns and people walking and crowding everywhere. 

It’s the incompetence of government systems that some days are more than you can handle. It’s dust and dirt and weeds and mud. And sometimes having to just keep your head down and keep going. 

It’s stares and stares and stares. Stares that can be turned into big white tooth grins, but sometimes, many times, there is no desire to put forth the effort and give the energy to even get the smile. It’s houseworkers that in theory sound ideal and a luxurious, “oh I’ll just tell my maid to do it”,  but end up creating stress and sapping energy and resources out of you as well. Just existing and living at times can feel so much harder. There is nothing “comfortable” about living here. 

But, there must be something.

Something pulling, drawing us, keeping us these 5 years and compelling us on for the next 5, 10 or 15. 

There is a lot that we have “stayed” for. 

People, places, and “innocent” faces. 

Opportunities to be had and help to be given.

But maybe too, we have stayed so we could find our place.

Not someone else’s place for us. But ours. 

So we could find our new “comfortable” in a very uncomfortable place.   

We moved alot, changed alot, uprooted alot, but at some point we decide this is it. 

This is where we settle. This is our home. And sure, when compared to what we used to have, and what home used to be, its rough. No disagreements there. 

Maybe someday, if we move to a nicer house, have a nice kitchen with a dishwasher, bigger bedrooms, more bathrooms for the kids, 2 hot water heaters for showers, away from the congestion and noise and room to run wild and free. 

Then maybe we can say not only are we “comfortable” here. 

We are “living in comfort”.  I would take that one too. 

Just this month though, I have felt a sense of “comfortable” with our life and our friends. Like we finally have something here. We are not alone. It has taken time, but we have true and dear friends here. The friends that have become our support system in the absence of other dear friends and even dearer family. That now, as we hit the 5 year mark I feel comfortable with who we are, where we are, and where we are heading. 

It has been a rocky road to get there at times. But I can honestly say I haven’t ever thought, “get me out of here!”  Well, ....at least not in reference to out of Zambia. ;) 

There is a significant difference between living a comfortable life, AND

being comfortable with your life. The clear conscience, can rest well at night, who needs their own little kingdom or bubble away from the real world anyway, let’s all learn to think of others not so much ourselves,  it really and truly is ok when we mess up, live a little- actually live ALOT, have fun, we really are totally blessed, - “comfortable” LIFE. 

I now would take the latter over the former any day.  

And I thank God He has shown me the difference, here in AFRICA.