we went to the market and bought baskets for organizing stuff and beautiful pagnè that i am super excited about and vegetables and bread, just mom and i and it was so, so nice.  taking time to just go and be, even when we were just getting stuff done that we needed to.  taking the time to make it a get to, instead of a have to.  

then we came home & i worked on school until i followed mom outside and then we spent the next three hours shelling a kilo or two of peanuts (painful) with our neighbor.  and we talked about cooking and showers and bedtime and cars and a bunch of other things.  all the while, i was making faces at the kids and trying to figure out which babies were scared of me and which ones just laughed or stared back at me with big eyes. 

now mind you, our "talking" was a lot of me looking at mom for an explanation of what the jula meant and when she didn't know it, we would ask in french.  and then there would be talk in between the other ladies in jula, and then in french, and mom and i would try to talk it out in english to understand, and then we would start all over again.  a long, complicated dance that sometimes flows and other times, it just doesn't.  but we still talk and laugh and learn to live life with one another.  

and at the end of the day, my fingers are red and sore, and my body feels drained from the sun's merciless heat, but i am content.  because this is where He has me and there is no better place to be than in the center of His plan for my life.  

open, red road is all that we had to go on, a cloud of dust following us wherever we went, a testament for all to see where we had gone.  slowly, slowly each kilometer passed, telling of another bumpy time of travel.  three vehicles passing through village after village, set out to show Christ's love to the children in Kimini.  

everyone gathered and no time was lost.  rooms were cleared and benches carried out in a matter of minutes, throughout it all countless children milled around and the sound of laughter filled the air.  

names were called and classes gathered.  the sun rose higher in the sky and flies got worse as the day stretched on.  they sat and waited for their turn.

supplies were cleaned and two hundred & twenty bottles numbered, ready for each child.  

orders were explained and stations set up: urine test, eye test, height & weight.

curious eyes peered in, lines were formed and dissolved into small mobs, again… and again.. and again. 

the big man at the little desk with the light skin and funny gloves received mixed reactions.  some smiled and laughed at his french/jula melange of instructions of what to do with the funny little bottle.  others trembled and squeaked with fear with he wrote a number on their hand.  

height was taken, and always smaller than you would like.  and weight, always kilos under what it should be. the glass scale was a mystery to them and a source of amusement for us.  it was sat upon, picked up, hovered over, and straddled.  until finally we stood upon it and said "comme ça!" and finally it was stood on, with both feet... after some convincing. 

eyes were checked and laughter again filled the air.  sometimes the child instantly picked up the instructions and flied through, others provided entertainment for all as they stood there confused with both eyes covered instead of one until they understood.  

working together towards a common, Christ centered goal breached all obstacles of language & culture.    parts of life that were once foreign, are now normal.  so many doors are being opened for spreading His love alongside our brothers and sisters in Christ. 

time stands still best in moments that look suspiciously like ordinary life… 

two days + two hundred and twenty one kids + little ones like the tiny gal above + one interesting "hotel" room with a bathroom door that didn't shut + lots of laughs & giggles + about a bazillion pictures + serving alongside fellow brothers & sisters in Christ from all over the world = an awesome way to spend your tuesday & wednesday, in my opinion…