Poisonous Bite - Continued

My bite is healing-I think.  Very red, but not spreading anymore.  Was itching, so I put some honey on it for a few hours this afternoon...

Was reading in Psalm 103 last night which was a huge encouragement to me...God is the one "who heals all your diseases"- even strange bites from Tanzanian bugs!

Poisonous Spider Bite?

So, no snakes while camping, though some of us thought about it quite a bit.  But I awoke after the first night with a bite on my arm.  Thought at first it was a mosquito bite, but then it gradually became red and raised and spreading in size.  Have been wrapping charcoal-toilet paper poultices on it all day...

Squeezed a bunch of clear liquid out of it yesterday morning... It's not so much painful now as it is itchy... I'm sure it will heal up nicely-just hoping I don't have a permanently blackened arm.

Showed my bite to Mrs. Riederer... she agreed with my original diagnosis-spider bite.

Though I'm not looking forward to it growing in size, I'm glad it is on my arm where I can continually treat it by myself.  I also was marveling at God's perfect timing:  I've been teaching first aid to my standard 2 and 3 Science classes.  We talked about treatment for various poisonous bites.  I introduced them to the idea of charcoal poultices to draw out poison.  This was last week.  I had been thinking, "man, I wish I could bring in some charcoal to show them how to use it, but I'd hate to wast any, and it would be nicer if it were the real thing..."  Ha, this is perfect!  Almost can't wait to show the students my infirmity!  Exciting how God works out His purposes-even if at first we don't understand... Maybe this class on charcoal use will save someones life some day through these kids knowledge of the topic... Then this spiderbite of mine will have been well worth it :)

March - 2014

Here's a photo of me in front of the standard 3 classroom with some primary students.  My hand on Giribati's shoulder, Anton close to my heart, and Laban as straight and true as ever.  Robinson and Kliva making faces.  Anania hiding in the background...This is a candid shot!  Each personality is clearly shown! Wow!
Me and my boys :) Love these kids.

Naughty and Nice, God Gives Love Enough...

"If you get most of the questions right on the test, then you will get a prize afterwards!"

"Miss Teacher, if I get them all right, can I have them ALL?" Anton holds up the small packet of chocolate candies and raises an eyebrow expectantly. I smile back into his mischievous eyes as I remind him again of the rule: only one.

Later I notice a small heap of school-uniform blue on the ground.

Anton? He has his arm over his head, his face to the ground. What could have happened? The group of boys playing football (soccer) seem not to notice as I bend down toward the despondent figure, tapping the small shoulder. A face pops up, displaying an impish grin. He throws his head back in laughter as I realize he wasn't crying after all.

I love that boy. I love that roguish, playful grin of his. Though he is a bit of a rascal, there is something about him that pulls at my heart.

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He sits alone at the desk in the back of the classroom, quiet and unpretentious. He rolls his eyes at the outlandish behavior of his fellow students, exchanging with me a knowing glance. While the others continue their raving madness, this young man voluntarily strides to the front of the room to help me clean up after class. As he wipes the dusty blackboard, I ask him, "What's your name?"

"Robert."

I shake his hand and thank him for being my assistant and for maintaining a calm spirit amidst the chaos. He smiles back, shyly.

Later, Robert meets me as I cross the schoolyard, headed for the teacher's office. With a furtive glance and smile, he silently takes the stack of papers from my hands and ambles along beside me, bearing my burden.

I love that boy. I love his calm, gentle spirit. Though he is a ready helper, it is his unassuming nature that draws me to him.

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Only God could give me the same love for Anton as I have for Robert...

Selfish Pride

Brianna and I just had our first big dispute since the beginning of our friendship. We both felt ill at-ease and troubled over the matter.

And I came face-to-face with the stark human nature of Ashley Tardif.

Brianna left in tears. I felt sick to my stomach. Neither of us "won."

Mopping the bathroom floor, I wrestled with my pride. No matter how good I think I am, all my righteousnesses are still like this filthy rag. I wished to dump my disgusting selfishness out with the pail of mopping water.

Not an hour later, a test of self-denial again occurred. Again, I failed.

"Ashley, I don't have any more shampoo. Do you think I could use yours until I leave? I would only need it like two times," Selena asked.

"Well... I'm going through my shampoo really quickly and I don't have a very big bottle of it to begin with...and I don't know how I will get more when it is gone. Could you possibly ask one of the other girls?"

Ashley, what about the widow of Zarephath? It was only after she gave to Elisha of the little she had left that God supplied for her during the entire famine...

My conscience seared. I returned to Selina to let her know she was welcome to use my shampoo if she would like, but I had lost my opportunity to give.

She didn't want to use up my resources, and insisted that she would ask someone else.

And so I missed out on a miracle God wanted to work for me. I was too busy protecting my assets to receive the blessing God had in store.

Had I been willing to share...

"Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner!"

"This is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief." (I Timothy 1:15)

Africa Changes Everything...

"Africa Changes EVERYTHING." This has become my mantra. It's not every day that a New England girl bikes over a dead chameleon on her way to school...

When I think of snails now, I picture them the size of my fist. A millipede is no longer a thing of about two-inches in length in my mind, because I often see them the length of my sandaled foot.

One month in Africa has changed my perspective on how easy it would be to raise kids in the mission field. It has changed my array of daily activities. It has changed me. I am not as vain as I once was; I don't have time to shower before biking the two-and-a-half miles to school each morning. I'm actually disappointed that I don't have an unsightly scar on my right cheek from the hot oil burns I received two weeks ago. I had been happily anticipating the "what happened to your face?" questions, which would give me opportunity to share about how great of a God we serve. But the lack of that conversation-starter won't keep me from telling others about God's protection in that moment.

I have never been so filled with joy over simple things: a hug from a friend, waking up to sunshine, clean and dry laundry, a method of transportation besides walking, singing hymns, laughter over shared experiences, traipsing barefoot through the grass, and riding atop a land cruiser with the wind in my hair. I smile--just because. I laugh--an overflow of the joy in my heart. I sing--in praise for God's goodness. I've never been so excited to watch a garden grow. But these are seeds that I planted! Food that I will need! As each little sprout pokes its emerald head out into the light, I just want to say, "Congratulations! Welcome to the world! So nice to see you!"

It's Raining, It's Pouring...

I awoke to a steady patter on the roof. The rain which had interrupted my thoughts at ten o'clock the previous evening had not yet ceased to fall. Oh, to stay in bed and forget about riding in the rain! But my clock blinked 6:15, time to get up and hurriedly prepare for the day.

Ready to brave the elements, I asked for the key to the back door.

"You don't have it?" Brianna had managed to misplace our means of escape...

again. We are gaining quite the reputation here :) Thankful for a means of communication at times like these, we texted for help.

A fellow SM (Student Missionary) forfeited some of his precious breakfast time to come and rescue us "damsels in distress."

I aimed to make it to school clean and somewhat dry. About 20 yards down the road, I dismissed that ideal entirely. I arrived at school, feeling like a not-so-spectacular spectacle. The front of my pants looked as if I'd just pulled them from the washing machine and dragged them through a sandbox. Red clay mud and rainwater dripped down my legs like drops of blood. I was grateful for an outdoor water tap and a dry skirt buried in my damp backpack.

Working at washing the grit off my legs, I glanced up as two Tanzanian teachers arrived on foot, their tan trousers entirely spot-free...