Welcomed Home

            Home I am, and find myself doing very well.  It’s such a blessing that the afternoon and evening went decently smoothly and I didn’t collapse into I-cant-handle-America convulsions, 

as I just may have feared I might.  

The plane’s wheel hit the runway with a jolt and thrust me back into a life that was familiar and yet felt a million years away at the same time.  Even so, I smiled in genuine excitement, and my heart raced as I it hit me for the 27^th time that I was so close to seeing my people and squeezing them tight.

  I scurried from the terminal I had entered five weeks and three days before at the start of my adventure, and within minutes was running through the gate into my family’s arms.  And then there I was, there we were, as it nothing had ever changed and I hadn’t been away for a month and a half.  We hugged each other tight and laughed at the fact that it was all so weird that I was actually home, that after all the waiting and traveling I was really back.  

We grabbed my bags and took off for subs and McFlurries before traveling the last leg 

of the journey home to a beautifully decorated house that celebrated that I was back with birthday banners, balloons, ribbons, and drawings.  Made me a little teary as I realized for the 392^nd time just how much these people love me, and just how much I love them back. 

The time change and jet lag are hitting hard, but coffee and quite early mornings have been ordained by Jesus and my Momma, and take them I will.  It’s been quite a journey, and it’s wonderful and heart wrenching to be back.   The trip processing is going to run into 

full swing within the next couple hours.  

FYI, if you have an a free afternoon and have the strange desire to drink coffee, listen to a million stories, and go through a billion photos, let me know.  I have just the opportunity for you J. Until then, much love to you all.   

I truly have missed ice cream and little minion brothers :)

Turning the Page

Reflecting on the past year tonight... 
It's my last day of being 16, and the year has been absolutely amazing.  It has honestly been the best year of my life - two mission trips (one still in progress!), a brand new school, a whole lot of growth, and a boatload of memories.  The year has been incredible!  

 The only thing that's getting me is that it actually is almost my birthday.  It is so odd to think about – even the fact that this is July is hard to wrap my head around.  I’ve subconsciously been beginning to look forward to Christmas... in July.  

The cold weather fools me into thinking that it is October or November, and snuggling down, under a million blankets every night only affirms the delusion.  But tomorrow is 

July 3, and I seventeen I will be. 

 It hit me yesterday that it will me my last year of childhood, as well as my last childhood birthday.  Makes me want to cry a little bit – little me is actually growing up.  

But I am excited.  

Tomorrow morning I will wake up, probably sweating from all the blankets, and smile because it will be my birthday.   Then I’ll hear Stanley screaming out, “Good morning, Bethsaida!  How’d you sleeep?”  And I’ll smile and be so thankful for my two “brothers”, one Swiss and one South African, and the trio we make.  

I’ll bake cookies from the recipe I found on Pinterest today and sit down to coffee and a little pow-wow with Jesus.  Then we’ll head out to church at 11, and I’ll get a little teary as I realize that it will be my last Sunday at His People for while.  But soon enough I’ll be grinning again and praising Jesus for another year. 

Turning 17 in South Africa - how's that for a special birthday?!  After church we'll head out to Ms. Kitty house and she'll give me a huge hug saying, "Good morning, sister!  Good morning!"and I will be so happy because I just love that lady and her beautiful, beautiful heart.  Ms.  Dorah will be there in all of her spunk and personality, and make me laugh with her silliness.  Sweet little John will be there as well, and melt my heart a million times over with the sweetness of his.  And I'll smile and thank God for life and how beautiful he has made it.  My God is good, and I am so thankful for another year to see more and more of Him and His power.  Bring it on, seventeen! 

Guncie Update

I met Guncie a mere two days ago, and yet I feel as though she has been apart of my heart and life for so much longer than that.  She was on my mind as soon as I woke up in the morning, and I wondered if she was being fed and cared for.  I have to wait the whole weekend before I will be able to check on her again, and it hurts my heart.

First thing yesterday morning, Mrs. Mimi and I went to buy baby formula and other necessities for Guncie.  I felt like a proud momma as I picked bought starter baby food, bottles, and formula for the little girl.  She is not mine, and can't be.  I know that.  But God has allowed me to be part of my life for this season, and I want to make the most of the time I am given.  The can of formula I bought cost me only about $14, yet would cost a mother the equivalent of about 2 days of working.  After about an hour and half of shopping, we ended up with three bags of baby essentials and went to pick up a friend took off for the creshe.  It made my heart so happy to watch Ms. Kitty looking over the things we bought.  She is the sweetest lady with a huge heart, and loves that baby girl like her own.  

Official mom status?  

Minutes later, Mrs. Mimi and Ms. Kitty went to get the baby, and ended up coming back with Guncie's mom, and two year old sister.  Guncie's mother, Emily, seemed quite uncomfortable sitting with us at the creshe, yet she was gracious and allowed us to bathe and feed both Guncie and her sister.  

It was obvious that the little girls were uncomfortable when they were not right next to their mother, and made me hope that it is not Ms. Emily's heart to neglect her children, but lack of knowing how.  Yet, as Mrs. Mimi explained, young children are wired to love their parents no matter what, and she is probably the only one her girls are around on a consistent basis.  

Ms. Kitty warmed water for a bath as little Guncie worked on finishing a bottle, and her sister and mother ate oranges and "fat cakes" - similar to unsweetened doughnuts.  

I set out new clothes, diapers, baby lotion and soap for Guncie's bath, yet the poor baby was absolutely terrified of the water.  She wailed and arched her back as I dipped her feet into the water, and was so distressed by it that I ended up laying her down on a blanket and just giving her a sponge bath.  Still, she wailed and cried pitifully until we wrapped her up in a newborn size diaper that was nearly too large, and new, warm pajamas.  We handed her back to her mother and she quickly fell asleep, worn out from the stress of the bath. 

After asking Ms. Emily's permission, we also bathed Guncie's sister.  We had set aside clothes for her as well, but forgot to get them out of the car.  I hated to put the clothes she was wearing back on her -   they were so dusty and honestly reeked, but we had no other option.  After cleaning her up, I set her in my lap and breathed in the sweet smell of her now-clean head.  We got another bowl of food for her, which she ate as she sat in my lap.  

She seems somewhat delayed - she never made eye contact, was not very alert to her surroundings, and seemed fairly unaffected by what was going on around her.  The only thing that I could tell she was focused on was her mother - the little girl seemed so tired, yet wouldn't let herself go to sleep.  Ms. Kitty told me she was afraid that her mother was going to leave her.

 A bit later, Ms. Emily stood up and told us that she was going to back to her house, but would come back later.  I watched quietly as the three of them walked out of the creshe's gate and make their way down the dusty red road.  After watching the mother interact with her children, I felt the tiniest bit more hopeful about their situation.  Like mentioned earlier, Ms. Emily never showed any signs of obvious dislike toward her children during the time we were with her, and she did come back in the afternoon as she had promised.  I'm praying and believing for a miracle in Emily's life, for healing and restoration for her and her girls.  As Mrs. Mimi said, it is never the goal to break up the family, but to teach the mother how to be the mother.  

We packed a baggie of formula and starter baby food and gave it to Ms. Emily for the weekend.  Because it is in the baggie, it is harder to sell should the temptation or opportunity arise.  And now I wait for Monday to see my little girl again, while I pray and believe for a miracle on her behalf.  Our God is a God of redemption, and as I was reminded of this while reading Acts 9 this morning.  God spoke to Ananias, telling him to go to Saul as God was in the process of bringing redemption to his life:

"The Lord said to Him, 'Go, for he is a chosen instrument of Mine, to bear My name before the Gentiles and kinds and the sons of Israel..."  

Emily, Guncie, and Guncie's sister are chose instruments of the Lord, and we proclaim healing over them in Jesus name.  

A Week of Growth

I remember waking up on the morning of my first full day here - one week ago today.  I climbed out of bed and pulled back the window shades to get my first real look at this place I had dreamed about for so long.  It was absolutely beautiful!  The early morning African sun shone down, casting everything in its golden light.  I saw ladies in long, colorful skirts walking down the road with woven baskets in hand, kids riding their bikes on the way to school, and the usual bustle of the morning.  It was a surreal moment to say the least.  

And today I sit and look out that same window, this time as the late afternoon sun slides lower and lower in the sky.  Today was busy, though less straining than days at the creshe.  With administration day comes the tasks of grocery shopping for the creshe and for food baskets, running errands, searching for furniture for a house the McMillians are helping a lady to furnish, and, believe it or not, visiting all the local scrap yards in town for materials to built a shack for another lady who is in need of one.

Mrs. Mimi is one busy lady, yet I see every day how God fills her up with a glowing passion and love for the people He's put in her life to disciple, and vision of transformation that He's given her.  I have truly found a second family in the McMillians here in South Africa.  God has given me an incredible growth and transformation opportunity through Mrs. Mimi's untiring heart to help me to grow and find what God would have for me as she disciples me.

We run around town to pick up groceries, search for the best deal on window and door frames, and visit the creshe, and all the while she is pouring into me and being God's voice.  I am realizing that missionary life is not easy, and the McMillians will be the first to tell you so.  There are so many walls and barriers that must be broken down, connections that need to be made, relationships that can only develop properly with tons of time and effort, and the need for endless amounts of patience and grace from God.  Yet even in the work, I constantly witness a resilience, a will to press on, and the sight of breakthrough peeking through in the distance.  My first full week here has been beautiful as I am watching God work through this trip.  

Over long days, multiple cups of coffee and tea, and endless servings of "Bop", I am seeing His face shining more clearly, and am witnessing His healing work in my life. 

South Africa, God is using you as a mission to me.    

Monday at the Creshe

Monday comes around even in South Africa, believe it or not.  A few of the creshe (preschool) teachers were really feeling it, yet it was a beautiful day that began quite early.

Jacques, a university student who serves with Heritage Life center, arrived by 6:45am to pick up me and food for the creshe before beginning the round of pick-ups.

The shouts of "Uncle Jacques!  Uncle Jacques!" from the kids were adorable as we pulled up to their houses, and I quickly saw the mischievous grins appearing as they began to talk and giggle among themselves in the backseat.  We picked up 12 kids, all of them fitting in the two backseat rows except Mesaho, who sat quietly in my lap.  Mesaho is the sweetest and most beautiful little girl.  She has such a sweet, quiet spirit and makes my heart so happy when she looks up at me with her big brown eyes and grins.  She has a beautiful heart to care and serve as well, and I noticed her frequently helping the younger children and giving them instructions. 

She just one of those kids who makes my heart smile, and I'm exceptionally grateful for the encouragement she brings.  

The pick-ups were thorough, lasting about 45 minutes, though the children lived close to each other.  

Yet, by 8am, we arrived at the creshe to begin the day.

Ms. Dorah was away, resulting in less structure that led to the day feeling longer and more drawn out.  However, meal, snack, and nap times added enough structure to work with, and an extra lot of outside time kept us moving.  By midmorning we had gone over shapes, colors, and rather unnecessary, though adorable, introductions.  Each child walked to the front of the group and said,

"Goot morning, closs.  My name es Maseho.  I am five years olt.  Wheen I grow up, I want to be a tea-chah."

This was soon follow by a snack, a book, more outside time, and finally, play dough.  What an experience!  The kids were so cute as they discovered what play dough is and how they can use it.  

Though the days can get long, and situations can become overwhelming, I love these kids. 

They are precious and a huge blessing.  They keep us laughing and on our toes, and I wouldn't want it any other way.  This one little boy named Maleema was particularly adorable.  I was helping one of the kids put on his shoes to go outdoors.  In the midst of having this hefty two year old in my lap, not to mention too-small shoes that needed to be put on his feet, I felt a little hand hit my shoulder and heard a little voice talking to me.  Asking one of the teachers to translate for me, I learned that he was saying - as he pushed another child out of the way -

"Here!  You must sit down in the chair!"  Though he can't be more than three years old, this little gentleman has my back.  And then, when it was time to take the kids home again, I stood outside "Uncle Jacques'" car as three teachers, 12 kids, and Jock himself piled into the car.  Again, I heard Maleema's sweet little voice, and this time knew what he was saying.  He was motioning urgently for me to come to sit in the passenger seat in front, and wouldn't take no for an answer.  

There's my buddy!  This kid is full of joy and lives life to the fullest.  

 A car was heard rumbling up the road, and immediately the preschool erupted in shouts of "Uncle Jacques!  Uncle Jacques!"  The kids ran to grab their backpacks and scrambled into a line in front of Uncle Jacques himself, who, laughing with the kids the entire time, led to the way to the car for the trek home.  It was a long day, but certainly a nice one.  

Tomorrow is administration day, which, I'm learning, is always an adventure.  Here's a great Tuesday!    

This is Africa

The moment I glanced out the window and realized we were entering the Africa coast, the only thing I could think was, "This is Africa!  This is Africa!" 

The 15 hour flight was certainly long, but well worth it.

The night - well, America's night - passed fairly quickly, and just for the fun of it I decided to watch a move between 12 and 2am.  I was awake, so why not?  

The passengers on the plane were asked to close the windows so that the 3am sunrise wouldn't wake the lucky few who were actually able to sleep.  When the windows were reopened later, the sun was so bright as it reflected off the clouds and the sides of the plane that anyone who opened the window quickly shut it again and prayed that they were not blinded permanently.

Finally, by 10am American time, I decided to bite the bullet, ignore the shut-that-window-now stares, and lift the shade.  

Boy was I glad I did!  We had just flown over the coast of Africa - one of the most surreal moments of my life.  I pressed by face against the windows edge and peered down into the land as we passed over it.  This is Africa....    

Behind me, I heard a couple discussing the view that, by now, most people were enjoying.

"There's nothing," the man said.  "See?  A single road just there, and then nothing more for miles around."  The wife murmured something in agreement as the husband repeated himself, saying the same thing 10 more times with different words.

Pointing to the map on the TV screen in front of me, my new South African friend and seat neighbor explained more about the land we were traveling over.  

As I had overheard, few would describe the land as being pretty.  In fact, it was called the "skeleton coast" - empty of all life, and known as the graveyard for shipwrecked sailors.  

Yet it was Africa, and it was absolutely beautiful. 

At about 10am, the flight attendance brought around kale salads, coffee, and calzones for one of the oddest breakfasts I have experienced.

In a few hours later, we landed.

Landed.  

It took me a full hour to get through customs - and that was mostly made of up of trying to find my 3 bags in the South African baggage claim system.  

Yet, finally, I got through and hauled my 150lbs of suitcases into the reception area to find Mimi.

I also met Mynette, one of Mimi's friends.

I soon learned that Mynette was one of the liveliest and most full-of-life people that I have ever met.  She has quite a sense of humor and immediately promised that she would work hard to make sure I was I converted completely to South African ways before I left.  I accepted the promise happily.   

The drive home was as lively as I had found Mynette to be.  Between Mimi, her, and me, the conversation flew around from this to that and back again.  

Finally, I was in Africa, and I have a sneaking suspicion that this place might become home.  

Yesterday and today have been busy and full of meeting people and places, and seeing more and more of this beautiful country. Though it may or may not be home forever, it certainly is right now. 

More to come.

Start NOW.

"Start right now.  

Have a burden, a desire to reach souls. 

...Be witnessing to people.  Be out there.  

Be involved in whatever ministry you can.

Try to see souls saved now...

Too often we see people who are called to a certain country, and they say "When I get to that country, I will start being a missionary."

If the Lord has called you, it's time to start right away."

- Brent George, Missionary to Romania.  

http://www.missionarytalks.com

A Glimpse of Nicaragua - the Trip that Shattered my Life

You guys, my days are so full in this season of life.

But right now, I feel like my heart is even fuller.

Life isn't a piece of cake these days, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I want to catch all of you up on Nicaragua, but in this season of life,

the days run short and my thoughts run long.

But Nicaragua did change my life.

Completely and entirely.

My heart was shattered there, and I flew back to America feeling like my life was laying in a thousand pieces around me.  

Those days were not easy.

But they CHANGED MY LIFE in a way nothing else has ever before.  

Every aspect of life is different now, and I'm almost certain that's just how God planned it to be.  

I'll get into all the in's and out's of the trip someday, but for now,

watch this video.

Please.

This video chronicles the highlights of the trip that changed me forever.

JOY

"Be truly glad!  

For there is great joy ahead..."

1 Peter 1:6

Here We Go...

We leave in 3 hours and 49 minutes.

Not that I'm counting or anything...

Strike that.

I am counting.

I have been for weeks.

I vividly remember waking up at 12:36 am one night, and the first thing that went through my head was, "Only 18 days until Nicaragua!"

And now the 18 days are over, and only 3 hours and 46 minutes remain.

Sheer joy, people.

Time to soak up the last few minutes with the littles before we leave, so keep us in your prayers, and I will try to keep the updates coming. (no promises:))

~Brittany 

Challenge and Triump

Kaden.

We love him, and we always will.

But that doesn't mean he's always easy.

 

2 years after coming home, I'd say Kaden's "honeymoon stage" has officially ended.

*sigh*

 

He is full of energy, full of potential, full of questions, and "whys?", armed and ready for arguments, and full of needs for explanations for everything...  Hence, my parents are exhausted. 

 

We don't know what's going on with our K.K.

Thankfully, though, we don't always need to know.  Challenging times will pass, and we'll become stronger because of them.

 

But even with our challenges, Kaden is pretty darn awesome.

Earlier this summer, we went with family to a race at the YMCA.

Everyone in the kid's racce took off and sprinted towards to finish.

 

 

 

Everyone but Kaden.

He's not one for rushing.  He likes to take his time and enjoy the journey.

He likes to have fun, he likes to go slow.

 

 

 

So he grinned and laughed and shouted his way down the road, and then...

He saw a little girl going very slowly.

So he turned to her and held her hand down as they walked the rest of the race together.

 

 

This sis was the proudest girl there that night.

So proud of my sweet brother, and so encouraged by glimpsing again the sweet heart he has.

We love out K.K., and we always will. 

 

 



Learning to Be Still

 

 

"So how are you, Brittany?"  I'm asked.

"I'm great!" I respond, "a little tired because I've been so busy, but busy is great!"

 

You see, I'm a doer. 

My day consists of being productive (aka working, creating, serving) eating and sleeping.

I simply love to do.

 

I'm happiest when I'm very busy "accomplishing" things.

Busy is always best, am I right?!

I sure thought so, but man was I wrong.

 

This past year has been a year of discovery for me, and the discoveries continue.

Let me back up...

There was a time where business was a form of survival.  Thankfully, that time has passed (hallelujah!).

 

But that time damaged me. 

I subconsciously trained myself to be busy with the strictness of a drill sergeant.   I found meaning in being productive, and I found life purpose in doing.

Danger alert!  Danger alert!

Hold everything and back up, this just isn't right.  It's obvious now, but at the time I wasn't even aware of the danger. 

A year and a half of constant business passed. 

During this time, I reprogramed by brain in the area of production.  I got to the point where I despised activities that I believed had no purpose. 

 

Reading is an example.  I used to love to read.  I would read all the time. Some of my favorite memories are of me sitting in bed in the wee hours of the morning transported to another world through the magic of books.

But what did that accomplish?  I would later think.  That was utterly pointless. I have wasted hours of my day sitting here doing absolutely nothing. 

So gradually I stopped reading.

Sure, I did read some.  School books, how-to books, and devotionals made up my literary diet.  All imagination erased in pure productivity. 

How disgustingly bland.

 

Reading is an example, but productivity dominated every part of my day.

So much so that it began to destroy me.

2 months ago when we went on a family trip to Florida, I became horribly depressed.  ON VACATION.

I was miserable because I had to relax and I couldn't always do.

I felt like I wasn't able to fulfill my purpose in life, I wasn't able to encourage others and I was miserable. Again, this was while I was on vacation.  yuck.

 

And then I got super scared, thinking,

"If I'm ever blessed with a really good friend (and I am now, this was back a little ways) how will I ever be able to maintain the friendship?

I despised the thought of just "hanging out", and that's what friends do.

It takes so much time of doing and just being to get to get to know someone well.

How will I ever be able to do that?"

 

I was scared silly.

There was the motivation, I had the willingness, so what was the plan?

I tried to figure it all out.  So what are the steps?  Alphabetical order, please.

Not.

 

 That's when my mom and I had a conversation about it.

"Back when everything was perfect," she said, "God didn't require Adam and Eve to work in the Garden.  He wanted them to enjoy.  He wanted them to enjoy walking with Him in the garden and simply enjoying his presence."

And that's when I clicked for me.

 

Above all else, I want to glorify God.  I nearly always have.  That is my purpose in life, that's the reason why I'm living and why he's kept me alive.

If He wants me to be still and simply walk with him, I WANT to.

 

Then God showed me why he wanted me  to just be still and enjoy.

I saw God, perfect and holy, pleased with his creation.

He had worked to create this for us.  And for me.

He wants me to look around and enjoy it, literally taking the time to stop and smell the roses.

Because that glorifies God.

That makes Him happy.

There I was, flying through life "accomplishing" things.

And there He was, wanting me to stop and enjoy Him and what he made for me.

 

And now I am going on vacation again.

I am going to enjoy living.

I am going there with willingness to stop and walk with God, willingness to be still, listen and enjoy my Father.

Yes, I will do.

I will do things that I love to do, but I am doing them because I love to do them and not to "accomplish" things.

I go to sacrifice my will to God by relaxing and enjoying.

And I have a feeling that its going to be pretty darn nice. :)

 



Taking My Own Advice

"So where do you see yourself in 5 years?  Brittany?"

I took a breath.

I was far from comfortable, but this was my time.

This was my time to face my fear of judgment and rejection,

my time to stand out from the crowd,

 to show God I was trusting him, and I was ready.

All the other girls had given wonderful, ambitious, details of well thought out plans.

They spoke of colleges they wanted to go to, exact courses they would take, jobs they would start to gain experience, exact plans.

They knew exactly what they wanted to do.

Did I?
 

Exhaling, I began.

"God's been working on me," I said.  "In the past I've needed to have all the details of everything I was going to do planned out.  I needed complete control over my life.  I needed to have my plans under my power.  But that wasn't good for me.  Now God's showing me that I just need to trust him.  He's calling me to mission work, but I don't know exactly what that will look like yet.  I think he's shown me some of what I'm called to do, but the for rest he's just called me to just trust him."
 

For a moment the room was silent.
 

Some in the group didn't know how they were supposed to react to my idea, but Alison, my youth leader, spoke up and encouraging me.

I smiled as she began to share some of what she's learned about trust.

 That opened the door for some of the deeper, more meaningful conversations I'd always longed to have within a small group setting.
 

I hadn't done much, but it had been hard to do in the beginning. 

But I had obeyed, and that was enough.
 

Weeks later I sat thinking and planning and, well, Pinteresting. 

As I pinned DIY ideas for homes and children's rooms, I thought and thought about my life and my future.

So many unknowns, so many possibilities.

I simply have no idea of what exactly (within missions work) I'm called to do.

My ideas go back and forth depending on my mood, but I just don't know.

 Once again I try to figure out everything in my mind, tangling myself up in the unknowns.

And then God reminded me.

Trust.

That's all I need to do now.

Trust and wait.

And I will try, it's hard, but I'll try.
 

"Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and he will strengthen

your heart." ~ Psalm 27 : 14

Kaden Teaches me to Dance in the Rain

Kaden has taught my family a lot, and learning to dance in the rain is only one of those lessons.

I have to say he does it pretty well!

And even though I got in trouble for asking him to go outside when it was raining, I think it was worth it. :)

So here you go! 

My own quote and all...

 

Growing Up

My heart is overwhelmed with gratefulness today.

So much has happened in my life. 

The truth is that God has happened! 

No longer am I the sick, searching little girl I used to be.

I am now becoming the fulfilled encourager, the hope-bringer, and the Christ following woman who I was created be.

 

For as long as I can remember, I  never wanted to grow up.

I wanted to stay an innocent little child,

 always able to hide behind my parents when I was uncertain or shy.

I never wanted the adult, grown-up body because I was so scared of what that would bring.

I didn't want to a separate person from my parents.

And, in all honesty, I didn't know who that person was.

I completely trusted my mom and dad, but could I trust me? 

Could I do it on my own?

The answer is no.

No, I cannot trust me.

No, I cannot do it on my own.

 

But God.

I am now no longer trying to do it on my own, and I am no longer trying to figure out who I am.

I know who God is, and I have personally experienced his healing power.

Because I know who God is, I now know who I am.

I understand myself through him, and I am learning how I fit into his picture.

Now I can trust God.

And I can do life through him. 

On my own, no way!

With God? totally. 

 

 

Kaden and Bethany Quotes (#24-25 and #9)

I thought I'd lighten up my writing a bit by throwing in some cute Bethany and Kaden quotes. 
Enjoy!

In the car one day,

 Kaden was talking on and on about how much he wanted to buy baby clothes for himself.

 As hard as we tried to explain that there simply were not baby-style clothes made for a nearly 6 year old boy, he would not be stopped.

"We can buy yots of clothes!" he said,

"Mommy fings, and baby fings for me.  I'll buy a crib and a swing... and diapers!"

(Kaden adores baby diapers)

"We can look on the computer when we get home!

Right Mom?"

 By this time most of us were tuning him out; still he continued:

"Right, Dad?"
"Right Defany?"
"Right Brittany?"

"Right...?" and with a big sigh: "Oh well."

 

Tonight after dinner, Bethany found a lady bug, and was enjoying showing it to everyone. 

She showed it to Brandon, Whitey (our dog), me, and my mom.

When Mom said it, she smiled and said, 

"Aw, he's a-dori-ble!"

"Yes!" Bethany agreeded, "him is a-dori-ble!"

My mom and I were working on my history for the week.
It was rough, because I hadn't reviewed the material since Christmas break started, and didn't really remember any of it.
I thrive on writing intensive work, not just reading and answering question. 
I tried to explain that the text book I was using just wasn't working for me.
"This isn't how I'm wired, Mom," I said, "I just cant learn like this."
Then, from across the room, I hear Kaden yell,
"Sure you can, Brittany!  Sure you can!"



A Dream about my Lost Brother

The title of this post may have grabbed your attention.

To clear things up, I want to tell you that the boy I will talk about was never certainly going to be my brother.

I will give more details later, but although he was never officially my big brother, he will always be in my heart.

 

That being said, here is the post I had planned to write:

Last night I had a vivid dream.

Before I tell it, I want to give you a pit of background.

After my parent were married, they hosted a sweet, young boy from Belarus in the summer.

His name was Stas.

He began coming home to spend summer with my family, before I was born, when he was 8 years old.

In fact, Stas was here in the US with my parents when I was at the time of my birth. 
It was a work of God for us through him that I was born at home instead of in VA.
My parent were going to Virginia to see family for July 4th, but Stas suddenly got a high fever and my parents decided to wait. 
And then I was born unexpectantly the next day 6 weeks prematurely on July 3d.
God worked for me and my parents through this sweet little boy, and I will always have him to thank for that, among other thing. 



Stas came every year for 10 wonderful summers.

My parents and I (though my parents remember it better) had the privilege of seeing Stas grow up from a sweet little 8 year old, to an even-sweeter-still 18 year old.

One year my little 6 year-old heart was broken when my big brother, Stas, never showed up.

I have missed him every year since.

 

Stas was wonderful.

My parents could speak more to this, I have absolutely ZERO memories of Stas misbehaving or giving us a hard time.

What I remember is my "big brother" playing baby dolls with Brandon and me,

swimming in the pool with him, his sincere smile,
 and - maybe my favorite - Stas reading Brandon and me a story book in Belarusian and not being fazed when we laughed our heads off because of how funny the language sounded to us.


 

And then he would leave.

I don't remember many of the early years,

but I do remember one year when I woke up early (after he had left) and I went upstairs to his room.
All his things were gone.
Every toy was put away.
Every trace of him vanished.
I looked for a picture of him, and couldn't find even that.
That may have been the last year he ever came.
Somehow my 6 year-old heart knew that I'd never see him again on earth.



Stas had a special possession.
It was a stuffed animal Pooh Bear, who he would never take back to Belarus with him for fear of it getting stolen.

 He loved it, and I, as young as I was, could see that.
Years after he left the last time, I gathered Brandon and David in my room and showed them the Pooh Bear. 
I told them how Stas had cherished it.
Then I told them that I had promised to myself that I would keep it for him every year until he returned.  I would not let it get thrown or given away.
I was Stas's, and Stas's it would remain.

*sigh*

But, in my dream,

I was standing in our playroom (of our new house, which Stas has never seen) with my parents.
Kaden and Bethany were there playing as well.
I turned around, and there was Stas, about 16 years old, not saying a word, only standing there with a huge smile on his face and joy in his eyes.
My mouth dropped open and I just stood there, speechless.
Words escaped me and I didn't know what to do.
Not like the awkward silence that occurs when someone forgets their line in a play or anything.
No, it was nothing like that. 
It was a total, joyous overpowering that rendered me speechless.
Suddenly, I ran from the room to get something.
I came back with the Pooh Bear, and placed it in his hands.
And then my dream ended.

In my dream, Stas looked exactly like this

I don't know what exactly it means.
Maybe I will see Stas again on earth.
Maybe God's trying to tell me that I'm released from my promise, as simple as it may be.
Maybe Stas has found a family wherever he is.
Perhaps I can stop remembering him with the twinge of sadness over my loss.
Whatever it may be, I know that God has it under control, and I can simply trust him.
I love you, Stas!