96 degrees, feels like 106, humidity 80%.
Sweat is dripping down my face, my arms, my legs… A bug lands on me… gets stuck in the pool of sweat on my forearm.
“This is disgusting… I’m disgusting…”
We laugh. Because if it we didn’t, we’d cry.
Flies swarm the table with our food, and between each bite I’m swatting away five more.
Peanut butter by the spoonful constitutes a meal as we prepare to go to the market.
The smell of fish is strong, and selecting veggies while the flies continue to swarm makes the meager vegetable choices look SUPER appetizing.
The light is low once we get back, and we put the frozen chicken in a pot to boil.
After 20 min, we check the meat, the head floats to the top – we scream.
The meaning of a “whole” chicken just escalated to a way different level… feet, head, innards and all.
But we made it.
We ate.
And were satisfied.
I have bites all over my legs.
I wash my clothes and they still smell.
The French language is so hard to understand, and the only words I know are s’il vous plait, oui, and merci.
I’m feeling exhausted, hot, drained, and longing for a drive in my car to Target with the AC and country music on blast.
I cried on the couch today after grocery shopping. It all hit me at once.
Culture shock.
I hear it lasts for 24 hours, and then you’re back on beam.
I sure hope so.
The Race is real. I understand how people quit.
But I won’t. I refuse. God has more for me.
God is good. He is still on the throne. He always shows up. And I know that when I am most uncomfortable is when he grows me the most.
It isn’t glamorous. Skirts, and African dresses, Chacos, and a baseball hat. That’s my African uniform. I will put it on every day with joy because joy is a choice. It’s a hard choice, but at the same time it’s easy. I want to choose what the Lord has for me daily.
Honestly, I glamorized Africa. But it will eat you alive if you let it. I came close to that point today, however I refuse to surrender to the heat, the culture, and the language.
But I will surrender to the One who has already rescued me, and He will get me through.
Here’s to 3 more months in West Africa.
Let’s do this.
