On Friday, Selah went to the dentist to have a cleaning (which, interestingly, they don't clean five year old teeth--they just look them over to make sure there are no troubles) and the dentist reported that Selah had two wiggly teeth. We knew about the one but not the other. When the dentist asked if Selah wanted to have them pulled, she said no and then quickly changed her mind. "Si!" Well, the dentist requested the needle from her assistant, (meanwhile, my mind is racing wondering if this is a good idea--I never pulled the boys teeth; we just let them come out naturally...), then gave Selah what appeared to me to be two long shots of painkiller (too late, Mom), and then went to work with her pliers. The really wiggly one came out with little effort; the second one took more yanking. I couldn't watch. Selah, on the other hand, never made a peep and received her gauze with grace. What a kid! We went out for ice cream to celebrate. Then she informed me that once she put the teeth under the pillow, Daddy and I were to deposit some cash. She knows what's going on.
The next morning as the sun was coming up at about 6:05 a.m. I heard noises in the kitchen/living room area. It sounded like someone with shoes on was hurrying throughout the house as if they were in a rush to bolt out the door. When I realized that Doug was still in bed next to me, I knew something was up and decided to investigate. As I rushed into the next room (quickly realizing that I had no plan--what was I going to do if I did encounter a thief????), the person ran out the door. I got Doug up and we, in our pajamas no less, were peering out every window and door to see if we could catch a glimpse of the one who was no doubt running off with who knows what. Well, when we looked carefully off to the area outside of our house on the north-western corner, we spotted our 60+ German neighbor, Dr. Wolff, with wheelbarrow in hand dumping small rocks onto the dirt road that winds through our compound, and with him Darius, our now 12 year old, shovel in hand ready for the day. Could it be? Had Darius, who loves sleep, gotten himself up on a Saturday morning at 6 to go outside to do manual labor in the heat? WOW. Darius spent the next hour and a half shoveling small rocks out of a huge pile, pouring them onto the road, and spreading them out with a rake. We were so proud!
Finally, as you all know one of the most challenging
things for us (besides the bugs, the rain, the language, the mold, the lack of a car, and a
few other things), is the lack of variety in food options. All
restaurants serve the same thing (rice, beans, grilled beef/chicken) and
our biggest grocery store is about the size of your corner gas
station. So, we (all the missionaries here) struggle with what to cook
on a daily basis. I have lamented nearly daily about this predicament.
(Meanwhile I'm reading through the Bible in 90 days and have just finished the first five books--Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy--) On Saturday afternoon as I was mentally reviewing some of the things I've learned thus far in this read of the Good Book, I realized that I am no different than the Israelites
who grumbled and complained in the desert about the lack of meal options and
constantly wished to go back to Egypt where their variety had been much
greater. Man, did I see some serious similarities there. That
was such an ahha moment for me. The wonderful thing is that on that
very same day when I shared my realization with Doug, he said that
the Lord had just shown him the exact same thing that morning! God is
so amazing and His timing is always perfect and He's always patient! Crazy.
Always surprises.
Blessings, kim
major!!
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