Day to Day:
7.04am alarms. Morning meanderings to drop our babes off at school – up the winding bridge, tight handholds, down the winding bridge, groggy smiles. Home again. Sliced banana, granola, honey. Praying and painting. Daydreaming and dancing. Kiddo lunch and dishes. Team lunch and dishes. Early afternoon walks to explore this never-ending city. Soccer, homework, gardening, cuddles. 5.00pm baths for the sweet babies. Kiddo dinner and dishes. Team dinner and dishes. Team time – wifi room edition. Sweater-bundled skin for chilly, restful sleep. Repeat.
Moments I Would Pause:
Taco Tuesdays. Movie nights with our babes. Waking up at 5.30am to realize that our house had flooded. Back massages from Thato ((pronounced Tah-Toe)). Midmorning naps. The sky – the bluest I’ve ever seen any sky. Yoga with Mads297. Cutting raw chicken off the bone to cook in a frying pan because our stove doesn’t get hot enough to boil water. Shrines to Annie. Birthday breakfast. Car rides with Mr. Lawrence. Handstands. Little voices reciting “Our Father” before goodnight hugs. Getting food poisoning ((just kidding, a moment I would undoubtedly delete)). Church clap – African orphanage style. Snuggles with Tabelo ((pronounced Tah-bell-O)). The Dixie Chicks, tortillas, solitaire while the sun dips below the skyline. Liddy Girl licking caramel out of the pan on Halloween. Dancing in the rain. Bucket hats. Dark, vaseline-covered hands pulling my hair into braids.
A Stream of Thoughts:
I’ve had the opportunity to serve overseas in orphanages before and I loved it. But this month in Lesotho was an entirely different experience than those in that my team and I lived on the same property as the kids. Residing 18 steps away from the same orphanage you hang out at all day provides a much more a holistic view – you no longer get to glorify the “perfect, angel” side of children because living with them makes you aware of their flaws; you no longer have the option to avoid babies because they are thrust at you at 5.00pm for their baths; you are no longer able to sidestep the quiet teenager in the corner ((and a 13-year-old boy named Thato just might become your very best friend)). You wake up when they wake up, you laugh at what they laugh at, you love how they love. You fall into their routine and you smile because being welcomed and immersed into someone else’s life is a beautiful thing.
“How good and pleasant it is when God’s people live together in unity!” Psalm 133.1
All my love, P.
