On Being Okay

Last weekend we had the opportunity to go to a church in the village to lead a time of ministry, prayer and worship.
Just the thought of it made me squirm in my seat and start going into the fetal position.
Normally, I would totally jump on it.  Yea, the village is hotter than all get-out, dusty, dirty, and usually not a short trip, BUT the ministry is SO worth it.  Worth every minute and every liter of sweat lost.
We've seen miraculous healing on the spot, demons cast out, and hope rising in so many people when we take the time to do one-on-one or small group prayer and ministry in the villages. It's a time full of joy and it is amazing to be a part of.

But last week: no.  Nope.  I just didn't want to go.

And then I felt bad.  Kind of really bad.

I Want to Get Away

All I can think of is that song from the 90's - you know - the Lenny Kravitz one.
I want to get away
I want to get away
I want to get away
I wanna fllyyyy awaaayyy

Last Friday afternoon a friend reminded me about the hash that was taking place that weekend, only this time it would be Saturday instead of Sunday afternoon, because there was also an option to camp overnight.

I immediately thought, "Yes. Doing it."  I was so ready to get away from Moshi.  I just wanted a break, a true get-away.

But then my brain battled with my heart and gut because the reality of getting ready for an overnight camping trip with such short notice was daunting. I told Bill about it that evening and he was all for it too - except we knew absolutely zero details.  Location.  Cost.  Primitive-ness. Nothing.  We decided "Yes, if we get enough details by Saturday morning."
Saturday morning we did receive enough details to make our decision, and we just did it.  With about 3 hours to pack, run to town and grab food, make a batch of muffins for breakfast, run to our friends to borrow a cooler & some foam to sleep on, and make & eat lunch with some other friends, we did it.  Even arrived at the site early!

When we arrived to the little 'cove' that was the 'campground', just about an hour outside of Moshi, we pulled up next to the last of three tents in a row... only to discover we had pulled into a swampy marsh.  Whoops.

It's Time // To See What Heaven Sees

The stars to numerous to count.

The almost-full moon bright enough to light up the white sand and cast a beautiful blue glow over us.

The waves crashing gently as they brake.

The wind blowing steady and strong.

A dozen or so lights, hanging from boats, bobbing on the water in the horizon. 

Perched behind the group on a side-ways-growing beachy-looking palm tree.

Not Quite Yet

The outpouring of love and support we've received via email, text, facebook and in person from the community here in Moshi has been absolutely overwhelming.  We've heard from people we haven't talked to in months, even years, as they offer encouragement, love and prayers.
The community here has blown us away with their love and kindness. 

Christmas isn't Merry for Everyone

Being outside of one's passport country during the holidays can be rough.

Sure this is home to us, we love Tanzania, we love the community here in Moshi. But it's just something about the Christmas holidays that brings on a bit of a dark cloud of depression. Part of it is being away from our family back in the states. But part of it is that there's no chill in the air when you step outside, there are no mini marshmallows to top your hot chocolate with, there are no real Christmas trees anywhere, no sparkling lights adorning homes and twinkling in the night as you drive through the neighborhood, not a snowflake to be seen, minus the few left on top of Kilimanjaro.  It just doesn't feel like Christmas.

De ja Vu // Alternately Titled: TIA (This Is Africa)

Thanksgiving Day - November 25th, 2014
We pack up and hop in the car headed for Arusha, again.  It's not a holiday here, and it's been two weeks since our last appointment.  Have I mentioned how much I dislike going there?  The drive is so exhausting.  It's a good 2 hours on paved roads, but every 10 minutes you go through a village and have to slow down for a) massive speedbumps b)goats/cows/chickens crossing the road c)dala dalas (vans/busses) slowing and pulling over or pulling out in front of you d) people walking all over the road as if it's a sidewalk e)police checkpoints.  It's enough to drive anyone batty.

Ignorance {was} Bliss

Two weeks. 14 days. That’s how pregnant I was when I started having symptoms. Which led me to believe I was at least 4 weeks along, if not closer to 6 weeks.

November 13th, 2014
We made the trek to Arusha again to see the OB. She asked why we were there. Facepalm.
Because when I called and tried to talk to you about the results of the blood test the receptionist said to just come. So we came.
We did an ultrasound, and saw our little lentil that day. According to the measurements on the fuzzy ultrasound we were 6 weeks 4 days pregnant.
Torture. Torture I tell you. I was thinking I was closer to 8 weeks.

And So It Begins

The nausea.

November 3, 2014

I remember it clearly with Owen too - I never actually tossed my cookies, but man OH man was I ever nauseated by any-, and nearly everything.  I remember walking down the food aisles at Target and getting sick to my stomach, literally having to turn my eyes away from the boxes of food.  It's not even like it was raw meat or sushi or something - I'm talking boxes of Mac & Cheese, cans of soup.  Just looking at them make me indescribably nauseated.

And now it begins with this one.

A Lot About Nothing.

October 24th, 2014
I unlocked the door to the storage room of some friends of ours that are on furlough.  I'd been given permission to rifle through a tote full of bathroom supplies in search of One Tiny Object.  After finding such object, and closing the window that had been left open accidentally, while avoiding a gecko jumping out at my face, I locked the door back up and drove the bumpy roads back down the street and around the corner to home.

Immediately I took that One Tiny Object and went to the toilet.