Hiatus over (hopefully)

Several times I tried to post this photo. Several times I tried to post other blog entries. Fail, fail, fail. Internet was choosing not to comply. But, apparently, it's gotten over it (whatever "it" was). So, this is a much belated photo of the vine swing I mentioned in my last post:

These are the kinds of experiences and discoveries and days that more than make up for the lack of electricity, sketchy internet, and absence of all-things-convenient. My children don't know what a washing machine is; they have no idea what's on TV (or what TV is, for that matter!); they are not scared of poverty; their best friends were orphaned (just like them).
They know water is a precious resource, something to be conserved; because if we use too much, we will be without water until the next rain! Rain gives us water, makes our crops to grow, and keeps our animals alive. Sun gives us power, keeps our food cold, and dries our clothing. Healthy dirt makes for healthy crops (and is really fun to play in too!). This is what my children know, even though they don't realize that they know it :). It's just the way life... is!
And that, my friends, is more precious to me than take-out after a long day, and it's even more precious than a hot shower (though I do occasionally debate that one with myself!). It's taken me a while, but I've stopped counting the losses, and I've begun to take in the life.

Life! photo of the week

Stand and Stare

"Leisure" by W.H. Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?


No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.


No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where Squirrels hide their nuts in grass.


No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.


No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.


No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.


A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.


This is where I am, folks. I am making time, at last, to stand and stare. Finally. At last. And... I am one happy girl! The most fabulous part about it? My children and I are doing this together. Together, we venture out each morning on a "dragon hunt/princess walk," opening our eyes to the magic in the air. It's only been a week, and we are all happier! Tai collects swords, Ava collects magic wands, and A.J. is content to watch it all from the comfort of my back. We hear every bird that sings and every cow that moos. The children climb ant hills (trust me, they are everywhere here!) and find secret forts in the "bush" (after I do a quick survey for snakes). We even discovered the coolest vine swing ever. Ever. We stop when we want to, squatting to ponder a snail or a ladybug. By the time we get home, all of us have lungs satisfied with fresh air, bodies satisfied with movement, minds satisfied with vibrant imaginations, and hearts satisfied with time together. We all seem more alive. And why wouldn't we?!  We have been singing with Creation, whose song, day and night,  is Glory! and Life! This must be the path I was looking for. This must be the path that has been waiting for me...and my family. The wonder is beginning to awake from its slumber.

Life! photo of the week

The owners of these homes must be my kind of birds!

Their homes are attached to a steadfast tree, yet their homes are free to dance in the wind.

These are my kind of birds.

Life (of the rest of me)

For the life of the flesh is in the blood
~Leviticus 17:11


The life of my flesh is in my blood
The life of my soul, in the blood of Another
The life of the rest of me... a mystery.

My flesh is a breath
My soul is secure
So what about the rest of me?

Like a palm swaying fearless in the breeze
I long to be rooted yet free
Free to be the lover I am

A lover of Wild, untamed land
A lover of colors outside the lines
A lover of Light, wherever it shines

(Written by me, without a care in the world about structure and "oughts" of "good writing/poetry." Written from the heart.)

Bring On The Wonder

Can't see the stars anymore living here

Let's go to the hills where the outer lights are clear

Bring on the wonder

Bring on the song

I pushed you down deep in my soul for too long

~"Bring on the Wonder" by Sarah McLachlan

I live in Africa. I live in the bush. The stars don't get anymore clear and spectacular than here. And yet, in the place I've been living, this time of jaded life and surface living, I can't see the stars! they sparkle through every glass-less window in my home, but somehow...for me...they just aren't there.

Let's go to the hills where the outer lights are clear

Sometimes the going isn't physical or literal. Sometimes it's a soul journey. That's where I am.

Bring on the wonder

Bring on the song

I pushed you down depp in my soul for too long

If that can be a prayer, it's definitely mine.

I remember a time when every hike in the mountains or run in the country or even the drive through town felt magical to me. Everything exploded with life, and I could see it. From the sun's reflection in a mud puddle, to the crinkling of dried leaves under my feet--it all shouted beauty; it all sang of God's kingdom come.

I still see glimpses of it: in the life-loving eyes of my daughter who was once seemingly doomed for death; in my students' howls as they feel the rhythm of poetry; in the storm hovering above.

The seeing just doesn't come as naturally anymore. And the heart-exploding wonder is gone. I want it back. No more pushing it down deep in my soul with worry...or efficiency...or oughts...or (you name it).

So, God, bring on the wonder. Bring on the song. Tonight I'm going to the hills. Tonight I'm stepping outside my door, lying down beside the swaying banana tree, and allowing the sparkling stars above to reopen my eyes...so I can see once again.

~This post is dedicated to Amy Hooper and Kerrie Protasewich, who, once upon a time (many years ago), relished the wonder with me.

Life! photo of the week

Do you know what this is? It is a banana tree beginning its life under the shade of banana fiber (essentially dead layers of banana tree "skin"). The vulnerability of burgeoning life is sheltered by the very plant that gave it life.