What I've learned

I don't really know what I will leave, here in Africa, aside from pieces of my heart. I don't know what I've accomplished, or if anyone is changed because I was here. Not sure if there will be children coming out different, or people wanting more of Christ - but I know that the people here have taught me things I never could have learned myself - and that I have loved being around them, learning from them, being loved by them - loving beside them.

She has showered with me in the dark, with cockroaches, at night, in freezing cold water, with only a flashlight - giggling the entire time - bungee jumped clinging to my terrified body, helped me when I was bleeding after biting my tongue during our terrified jump, went white water rafting with me, and screamed and high fived and yelled and carried on beside me after making it down a 5 meter waterfall, and through some of the best white water in the world, has listened when I cried, cried while I listened, and shared her heart with me in our room, in the middle of the night, while holding children, walking down the street, over coffee -over breakfast - during safari. She has taught me how to love better, laugh better - to be kinder, and to be more open to the needs of others. I wish I didn't have to be without her.

He has taught me that love at unexpected times - a kiss on the cheek while trying to get your bike up a big hill, a hug from behind, a squeeze on your tiny little heinie - a rub of your head, an "I love you" during breakfast, softens a person, and gives you passport into their life. It gives you an ability to comfort, to communicate, to reach out to and to be succesful in ministry. And, he has taught me that giving a person unexpected love, creates unexpected love inside of you. And I would bring him home if I could. He has my heart. She has taught me patience in communication. That sometimes tears and fits and carrying on don't mean that someone's naughty. Sometimes they mean "I don't know this word in English!" or "You aren't understanding that I need to pee and you won't take my pants off!" She's shown me the need to seek out understanding, and to listen, watch and pay attention to the needs of others - and to discern which kind of tears are what. And then, she began to teach me that being understood creates joy - and I saw her smile and heard her laugh often, and took part in her beginning to speak my language - as I sought to understand hers.
This woman told me yesterday that, "you came and became my daughter and now you're leaving!" and I feel something like that -her adopted daughter or some such thing. She's let me cry, laugh, be myself - ask for wisdom, show disappointment, be confused - and today she sat over lunch and told me everything I wanted to know about the Lord's working in her life. She's been a treasure to me, and I have learned from her.

He has taught me that the way to deal with someone who likes to bite and be naughty, and pull other children's pants down, and make you furious and need to excuse yourself to the bathroom just so you can scream a little, isn't always to punish or let yourself get angry. Instead, maybe it's to laugh, or to not take it so seriously - to understand where someone has come from, and to see through the biting and notice a little boy with a mother who has left him - a little boy really lonely and wanting your attention, and not knowing how to get it - but so very thankful when he finally does something that works.

She has taught me about gentleness, and being patient with the processses of other people. I rush through and barrel over. She picks up and loves on - waits for the slower child - sits to make sure that the one who is whining doesn't have a reason. She looks to the needs of others - and makes me realize that I've been blind.

There are some people that are easy to love - bosem friends, Anne of Green Gables calls them - the ones you love right at first - and you couldn't help it if you wanted to. These two have shown me what friendship looks like when it comes quick and easy - have shared my passions and my sorrows, my memories, and my dreams for the future - they've laughed at stories, and given stories in return - they've lived out passions with me, and we have enjoyed our similarities and differences. They've understood frustrations and emotions. They are looking for the same kinds of things that I am, and they've sought to interwine their lives with mine. Lord willing, we would like to spend 3 months somewhere together in the near future. He has knit our hearts. She taught me that it hurts to love. And that often when you love someone that's hard to love - you're the only one doing it. She loved our autistic boy here at Amani with all of her heart. She's fought for him, is fighting for him. She chooses to see him differently than anyone else. And as she's stood her ground - stood firm in her desires for him to be seen as having potential, and being a beautiful kid - we've come to see him that way. Instead of his screams, we talk about his beautiful eyebrows, his face, and his progress: thanks to her, we look for it. But she was the one who had the courage to see it first.
She taught me that those who are different than us can teach us MUCH. Her adventerous spirit, her love for people, for animals - for peace, for orphans, caught me off guard, and caused me to pause and begin to look forward to hearing her laughter, her smiles, and wait for her next move - she's unpredictable, and I still haven't figured her out. For that, I adore her.
He taught me that loving someone goes a very long way. Often, what someone needs isn't to be told to stop crying, or get a grip, to eat their lunch or stop whining. Often, someone is hurting so much that they can't function, and what they really need, is for another person to stop and love them for a while, to fill their heart so they can get up, smile and move forward. Auntie Diana gave him that love, and I watched him blossom. Even after she left, he was different.