why I find myself staring at jars of yogurt

Recently I’ve been finding something so cheering in looking at a clothes line pinned with row after row of clean white diapers. Or, at the end of the day when the kids have been tucked in bed, I find myself taking a moment to just stare contentedly at my counter lined with jars of fresh yogurt that after a day of incubating are ready to be put in the fridge.

It probably has something to do with my longing, like that of every mother of young children, to have something to show for all my effort at the end of the day. Because most days, allthough I’ve been working from 5:00 am until long after dark, I find it hard to point back to any physical evidence of the things I’ve poured myself into.

How do I measure what I do every day? If I spend an hour making “cakes” and pizzas” with my boys, in the end we squish it all up and put the play dough back in their tubs. And although you can’t tell when you walk in the door, I actually did spend an hour picking up toys and strewn laundry and even did a spot of cleaning today! I made three square meals from “scratch” and even a batch of cookies but you won’t find the results stacked in my fridge, freezer, or pantry. Somehow… mysteriously…they are already gone! And how do you really measure all the patience it took to brush the teeth of a two-year-old who thinks he can do everything himself, or answer a four-year-old’s question (for the fifth time that day) about why it rains, or spoon feed a babbling, daydreaming ten-month-old baby a mashed banana as she occasionally swats at the food?

Having children and moving to Africa has required a huge shift in how I define my “accomplishments”. As a missionary I long to spend more time in concentrated language and culture study and would love to spend an hour reading the Bible with my friend who is so eager to hear the words of God. But I’m learning to be content with spending a few moments laughing with my neighbor over my sons’s attempt to communicate in Portuguese and appreciating the teachable moment with my house helper when we talk about life while we wash the clothes. Even the simple act of being a gracious host looks different now—sometimes I wistfully remember putting together a five course meal, lighting candles, and inviting some friends over for a relaxing evening…but I’m learning to be content with serving a cup of tea to a Mozambican friend who unexpectedly stops by while I’m in the middle of cooking dinner and as our kids run circles around us. And slowly, I’m learning to not place so much stock in checking off the items on my (according to my husband) “never ending” To Do List; rather, to be more in tune to the Spirit’s whisper to set down my bucket and pick up my baby and kiss her…to stop writing that e-mail and give my son my full attention while I explain to him ONE MORE TIME why it’s raining…or to run shrieking around the house as a little “crocodile” chases me.

None of that can really be measured and sometimes I don’t think I’ll see the results for literally years. And some days, although I’m becoming less and less focused on "accomplishments”, I’d still like to see something finished by the time a climb into bed. That’s where those (admittedly odd, but) peaceful moments of staring at yogurt jars in the quiet of the day come in. In a few short hours, the diapers will be dirty again and filling up the buckets. And the yogurt will be in little tummies with the dirty jars waiting to be washed. But for a few sweet and cheering moments, I see the evidence of my work.

crocodile pond (?)

A few weeks ago we went with some friends out to Mts. Nairuco--the place about 45 minutes away that has a small lake, some orchards, and a restaurant.

It is always so fun to see the boys explore and be with other kids their age and just...be boys. Wesley and I always enjoy taking a quite walk when we are out there and soaking in the beauty of all things green and living...and especially the unique rock "mountains" that are typical of this area of Mozambique.

Well, just after we got back from our outing, we heard that (gulp) the owners of the place had recently discoverd that a crocodile had somehow found its way through the streams that feed the lake and had taken up residence there.

(Incidentally, I do NOT have a picture of the crocodile).

But you can imagine how we felt in retrospect--reliving all our fun memories and looking at the pictures of the kids splashing around in the water! Granted, I spent a good chunk of my childhood playing in rivers in the middle of the jungle that had plenty of camen (South American aligators)...and Stefan spent most of his childhood swimming in the Amazon River on a daily basis...But somehow, inexplicably, it is COMPLETELY DIFFERENT when I imagine that crocodile in that pond watching my sweeties swim.

That is not to say we feel it necessary to avoid the place altogether. In fact, we just went out a few days ago with some of our colleagues over the holidays. But this time the kids stayed OUT of the water. And stuck to fishing.

Christmas Morning

We had a truly special Christmas season this year with so many neat memories. As the kids grow we are finding it so neat to watch them begin to get some picture of the magnifitude of what we are celbrating--God with us! And as they have more experience and frame of reference to draw from they seem to be beginning to make connections between some of the fun and traditions and celebrations we associate with the Christmas season. I know they probably won't remember most of it. They probably won't remember making Christmas cards and picking out lollypops for the kids at a friend's orphanage...or the Christmas pagent that they absolutely refused to participate in but were thoroughly delighted to watch from a hard bench...They will likely forget the fun crafts they did at Christmas party with some other missionary kids...or the day that they helped us take some food to a widow in the church and how she pulled them into her arms and blessed them in a language they couldn't understand...or that they spent Christmas eve spent sipping cool mango smoothies and singing Christmas carols with their Daddy. They probably WON'T remember what each of the Advent candles represent next time around... But I think that they will have impressions...impressions about the joy of the season and about generosity and sacrifice and that this event that we celebrate--the birth of Jesus--is a pretty powerful and wonderful thing.

Of course it doesn't help that we don't have pictures for any of that. (smile)

We did, however, have a lot of fun taking pictures of the kids getting their own abundant blessings on Christmas morning...

Wesley doesn't wear clothes very often during this season...a diaper is about all she can tolerate with the heat. But of course we had to dress her up in her pretty Christmas dress for Christmas morning!

"Smile for the camera, swettie, cuz my grumpy baby is going back to bed!"

The boys were shocked and delighted to find that those funny little things we hung in the window actually had GIFTS in them on Christmas morning!

We had received several packages from family and friends in the States that the boys were super excited to open.

And after breakfast and a good nap, Wesley was ready to open HER gifts.

Wesley got her first baby doll for Christmas. She was a bit suspicious at first (seeing as how it was pretty life-like compared to the stuffed animals of her brothers that she was familiar with). After looking at it for a few moments, she grabbed it...and promtly took the "bottle" out of it's mouth for herself!! I'm guessing those nurturing insticts come later?

matapa

Ana, the girl who recently came to work for us, has turned out to be one of the neatest "surprise" blessings! She's so fun to be around and a hard worker...and so great with the kids. She made matapa the other day--a traditional Mozambican dish made out of pounded peanuts, manioc leaves, and coconut milk.


Sifting the peanuts.


Pounding peanuts and then matapa leaves.



Snitching peanuts.

Grating coconut to make coconut milk.


Washed matapa leaves ready to pound.