I wonder...

if it's normal to crave salt.

if I've just gotten up from a magnificently intense dream.

why I wake up thinking that I'm still in Haiti.

whose life Dee saved today.

how I survived the last year.

if it's okay to buy cookie dough by the pound.

what the kids are doing.

how I was ever satisfied with an indifferent lifestyle.

what time it is.

why I'm not asleep.

who I might meet next.

why I seem to be the purest gravitational force of blessings beyond my wildest dreams.

how may people wore this t-shirt before I did.

how much it costs to see a movie these days.

what will happen next.

My American Firsts

I wanted to put together a little compilation of the first things I got to experience after returning to the States after a nine-month absence. Some are fun, some are awesome and the rest are simply spectacular. Enjoy.

First Meal: Turkey sandwich and coffee at Starbucks.

First Beverage: Apple Juice.

First Person I met for the First Time: My 4-month-old niece, Elliot (Woohoo!)

First Hugs: 1 of my brothers, both of my sisters and Misty.

First Drive on a Road with Lines on it: St. Louis to Quincy, just like the good ole days.

First Night's Sleep: On a cot in Elliot's room. Comfy and COLD!

First article of clothing I had to procure: Jacket. Brrrrr.

First Person I Surprised: Lindi, followed by Kelsey. Kelsey's reaction was awesome!

First time I Drove ALONE: To church on Sunday morning, 6 hrs after I got off the plane.

First Walk ALONE: Sunday afternoon in the rain. Perfect.

First Book I started Reading: "Shakespeare's Four Great Comedies". I recommend it.

First Dessert: Cheesecake on Monday. Wonderful.

First Nap: A couple days after getting here, home alone in a recliner. Doesn't get any better than that.

First "Duh!" experience: The second night, I watched a movie on my laptop because I forgot there was a tv. Near the end, the computer's battery died and I put it away, not realizing that I could just plug it in and finish the movie. Electricity . . . who knew?

Those are the good ones. All the little things may seem unimportant, but it's a comfort thing. Familiarity is nice to experience. My days are still pretty random, but in a way that's very normal and mostly unstraining- pretty much the opposite of the last nine months in Haiti.

The negative is that Dee and I are seperated again, so we're back to trying to work together while we're a couple thousand miles apart.

I'm working hard at filling my schedule now. It's working out pretty well so far. I'm making new contacts and nourishing others. It's been quite refreshing so far.

Much love and more soon,
C

Story Time 2nd Edition

After the fated mango harvest of a single tree, Crash didn't give the donated shot of Promethazine a chance to work, because, in her misery, she wanted to take as many doses as possible of anything that promised relief.

Having been told by the generous pharmacist that it was okay to take a second shot, which Crash didn't have, 4 hours after the first, Dee contacted a friend that lives near a pharmacy about 30 minutes from where they live. The pharmacy, by the grace of God, had Promethazine, but in one big bottle and no individual doses. The only solution to this problem was to open a syringe, take out a dose of the shot and send the open syringe on a tap tap Crash. So it was done.

When the opened and unlabeled syringe arrived, Crash had to wait yet another 30 or 40 minutes while her nurse, Monique, called the pharmacy to verify that the syringe contained none other than Promethazine. The pharmacist gave her guarantee, whatever THAT is, that it was the right medicine that they were about to inject into Crash. On faith, they did so and had to wait until the next morning to repeat the process.

In the morning, with no changes having occurred, Dee sent for another opened and unlabeled syringe to be brought. But there was a different pharmacist at the pharmacy that morning than was there the night before. This pharmacist insisted that the price they paid the previous night was incorrect and that they would have to pay double for it today. With an amused and understanding chuckle (because that happens a lot in Haiti), the double price was paid and the medicine brought.

After 3 shots and still worsening reactions, Crash nearly paid to have her plane ticket changed to that very day to go to America where this problem could be quickly solved, but decided to wait another day. During that day, her mom called and suggested taking a steroid to help it out. And by some more of God's grace, Dee found 5 steroid pills in a first aid kit which Crash, not sure about but totally desperate to find relief, took all at once at the suggestion of the bottle containing the pills.

She went to sleep hoping for the best, which is exactly what came piece by piece over the next week.

Crash woke up the next morning with a less-swollen face, which is the best improvement anyone had seen thus far. The day after that it looked almost its normal size. The rash persisted everywhere, but the swelling was going down and Crash could begin to move her mouth, talk more clearly and even smile a little in another day or so.

The rash went away very, very slowly and, as unpleasant as this may be, caused her face to crack and peel as it departed. The rash on her arms and chest and ears took much longer to calm down and is still irritating and itchy, but not so great a problem that she can't be thankful for this condition rather than her former one.

And let's not forget emotional damage. Crash can't so much as look at a mango without a certain terror encompassing her. She smelled some ripening mangoes in a depot and immediately ran away to wash her body, praying that the milk wasn't airborne or something. Another time, moving a playpen for the baby, a hanging mango bumped her on the head and she screamed, unhealthily afraid. Never before has a fruit drawn so much fear from a person, but she is recovering as best as can be expected.

She is thankful for those who prayed so fervently for her recovery and hopes never to encounter such a fruity disaster as this one ever again.

Story Time

Once upon a time under a mango tree, a white girl decided to be a part of the mango harvest (and by harvest, I only mean one tree in our yard) in Haiti. She isn't quite able to climb like the natives, so she decided to be the catcher of the picked mangoes on the ground while the natives threw them from above.

All was wonderful while she caught the mangoes and got all sticky from the syrupy milk that's in the mango vines. She and the natives played speed games to catch the mangoes and had a generally merry time.

After the fun, the white girl washed the sticky stuff off of her tanned skin and continued in normalcy until the next day, which was anything but normal...

After a night of restless sleep and seemingly random and unexplainable itching, the white girl, named Crash, got out of bed. After changing Lonia's diaper and wondering what that weird look on her face was, Crash exited her room and upon approaching her best friend, Dee, opened her mouth to ask a question. But Crash didn't have to speak, for the look on Dee's face had answered the question already.

"Whaaat in the wooooorld???" asked Dee.

"Yeah, I feel deformed, but from the look on your face, I must LOOK deformed as well," Crash answered.

"What happened?"

"I have no idea. What does it look like?"

"Not good," replied Dee, graciously understating the monster face Crash was wearing.

It turns out that after 23 years of life without a single allergic reaction to anything ever, Crash was allergic to the milk in the vines from which mangoes hang from the trees. Her face swelled up, barely leaving enough room for Crash to see beyond her protruding eyelids. She developed nasty rashes on every single solitary spot where the milk stuck to her, including both arms, both hands and all across her chest, and the same rash covered her swollen face.

Day one was nothing but questions, only a few of which were answered in the least. Pain was a general constant. Itching and burning came later that morning.

After a virtually sleepless night, which Dee joined Crash for just in case an emergency took place, day two was when monster face took its full swing. The resident nurse, Monique, went on a trip to find as many remedies for Crash as she could. She brought back, 3 creams, 2 lotions, 2 syrups and 1 box of pills.

None of them worked.

Two days passed.

Finally, Dee and her husband decided that Crash had been through enough, so they took her on a bumpy one and a half hour ride to a clinic. At the clinic, the guy in scrubs told them, after looking at the 3 creams, 2 lotions and box of pills, that they were using all the right medicines, they just needed to wait longer.

But after seeing the way Dee's face went savage and hostile as it did (and Crash's would have if she could have moved any facial muscles), the guy in scrubs said that a shot of Promethazine would help. But the clinic didn't have any.

Dee walked briskly across the street where there happened to be a hospital. She entered the hospital pharmacy, but Dee didn't have small enough change to buy the medicine (an ironically common problem in Haiti) so she waited 10 minutes while her temporary guide went to buy a coke to break the change, drink it and come back.

Upon his return, Dee asked for the exact shot she needed and the pharmacist said, "Oh, we don't have this."

"Of course, you don't," Dee said, dejected.

"But we do have individual doses in the operating room. But I can't sell that to you," the pharmacist replied.

"Then give it to me," Dee said with a sternness that cannot possibly be ignored.

And the pharmacist did just that.

Now, whether the shot worked or not, you will find out in the next edition of Story Time.

Our New Digs

After seven months of living inside the schoolyard with children everywhere, all the time, no privacy, constant noise, it's a dream-come-true to have a room with a breeze and open space at the beach property.

It's a whole new way of life with the whole team here. Dee's been looking out for me, letting everyone know to let me be when I sneak away for some desperately overdo time alone. I've tossed rocks at the ocean all by myself, not a soul within fifty yards of me. For months I've had people at my side, which can be good or bad, depending on your personality. For me, it just added to the infecting loneliness I'd been feeling for so long. I wanted companionship, but at the same time I wanted solitary confinement. I think what it all came down to was detaching and taking time to pray out loud knowing that only my Father could hear me. That one little thing turns out to have more value to me than I ever knew.

I value that time now for what it should have been to me all along- necessary. That time is necessary for mental sanity, emotional bearing, spiritual renewal. I have never known that more than I do at this very moment.

So now I relish. I relish in shutting my door and not being disturbed, in reading and napping without constant perusal, in working, eating, drinking and sleeping on my own schedule, and in speaking English and having those in my presence understand every word.

I am enjoying this new life. It's still adventurous. It's still challenging. It's still wonderfully complex. But it's become something now that's never been before- more than bearable, less than spoiling- it's become comfortable. I know that in spiritual terms that word may carry negative connotations. But at this point, I'll take comfortable over what it previously was any day.

Much love,
C

Preview: I believe I owe you a "Joy of Giving: Part 2". Be on the lookout.

That Look

Now that Lonia is in our midst again, I have had countless opportunities to look in those eyes that are too big for the body that holds them. Dee has spoken over and over of the fire in that little girl's eyes. But it's different to hear about it and now to see it for myself.

It's no matter what kind of look I give her, whether it is stern or gentle, full of panic or laced with joy, she always answers back with that same mysterious look, like she's got wisdom behind those eyes that I'll never touch.

Granted, there are those comical moments when she tries to imitate my features before I realize which ones I'm wearing. But when it's just her watching, looking, observing, searching, even silently replying to a statement I've made, she's got that look- that awesome, innocent, deep little look.

Gives me goosebumps everytime.

Dee can't quit repeating that this little fireball is especially special. She's known it for awhile. I'm just catching on. And for the both of us, it feels like God's working a little momentum into play. Care to join in the fun?

Much love,
C

Team of Friends

The team that visited last week is the same team that I have lead the last two years. Talk about a switch in role-play! I knew all but two of the girls that came personally so, after five months of fairly lonely circumstances, you can imagine how ecstatic I was to have a group of friends around.

It started out as the normal airport chaos. But this time I got to run the other end of it. Before, all I had to do was usher the girls around and wait for Dee's orders. This time I was negotiating and arguing and giving orders in Creole and driving and, well, you get the idea. I'm sure they were slightly taken aback.

And what better way to end a day of chaos than with a little more chaos? To say it simply, the truck broke down. Not only did it break down, it broke way down. The head gasket. It broke. Big time. So we pulled the little truck home by way of the big truck, which was just recently fixed. Did I mention that we had just replaced the clutch in the little truck THE DAY BEFORE all this happened? All I have to say is, Dorce Ministries will think twice before putting on the team someone who's very aura makes vehicles' entrails crumble.

Nonetheless, the team of the ladies from Hannibal-LaGrange College was more than happy to join us for the adventure. The week was spent telling stories and laughing and travelling and laughing. We made visits to four of our main locations- Carries, Cupois, Verrette and Montrouis. About four hundred kids got gifts of toys, food, candy, pencils, etc. The week was wonderful in every way I could have expected.

One of my favorite things to share was the testimony that this is not supernatural work for supernatural people. I know that most short-term student missionaries think that only special people are qualified for the work. I know that sometimes missionaries are put on a pedastal. But I got to tell them and prove to them that they're all candidates by saying that a year ago I was in their seat. I was a student leading a week-long mission trip. I was a college girl. A year ago. I'm a 23-year-old single gal. My qualifications are not exceptional. I have barely passed the stage they're in now.

That's what makes this whole situation so extraordinary. I have no idea why God chose me for this position at this time instead of someone else. But I guarantee that if He's done it with me, He can and will do it with whichever person in whichever place for whichever reason He wants to. If this has proved anything to me so far, it's that God doesn't need me.

The whole week was overwhelming and wonderful. And now we're back down to business.

Thanks for being with me for all this. It's a very big deal.

Much love,
C