Consecrate

Consecrate. A word we hear sometimes, never use, and rarely give a second thought.

Even so, it is a word that God has declared over these days leading 

to Bulgaria, and over the entire trip.  

Consecrate means to "declare something sacred, to ordain or to formally dedicate".

Such He is now doing.

The timing of Bulgaria isn't exactly perfect.  It has come at the busiest, most chaotic time of the year.  Soccer games, revival services, trip to Florida for a college visit, senior trip, another college visit, away games, and a boat load of school work and projects all coming due at the same time, not to mention preparing to graduate.  

And on the tale end of this crazy jumble of activity lies 10 days - consecrated.  

10 days set apart, declared holy, and dedicated to Jesus.

And in these 10 days, God promises to work, to move, and to do amazing things.

Elevation Worship has a song entitled The King is Among Us which God used to begin opening my eyes to His heart for the trip. 

He's still of the God of miracles - He's still the God of big, impossible things.  He's still the God of the miraculous, and He still invites us to join Him in this. 

In church, pastor John reminded me of just how much we fail to remember how big our God is.  

We expect small things, ask for the minimum, and forget that we have the God that walks on water, raises the dead, feeds the thousands and saves our souls.

As a team, we've hoped that we'll be able to lead some, ("please, Lord, at least just one!") of the Bulgarian students to the Lord. 

But now I expect, I beg, "God - revive Bulgaria!" 

"Use the 10 days we have to touch the nation - whether we touch the students we work with, they touch their families, their families touch their neighbors, their neighbors touch the country - or however You choose to work, do the BIG things!   Show yourself as the God of miracles, break chains, transform lives like the God you are."

We've boxed God up in our minds - it's time we let Him out.  

In the business, in the daily rush of mundane life, He calls and presents us with opportunities to work with Him, to learn from Him, to hear His heartbeat for our lives. 

But I'll be the first to admit that I forget to listen.

I get lost in daily, sometimes even lost dreaming of a future day when it'll be my sole purpose to work with Him, forgetting that that is my sole purpose now.

But our God of grace calls still, still presents the opportunities, and still invites us to join. 

When the chaos threatens to overwhelm, consecrate. 

Consecrate yourself to our God - declare your life as sacred to His service.

See trials as season of growth opportunities, and take Jesus's yoke on yourself, laying down your own. (Matthew 11:29)

We leave for Bulgaria in 5 days.  Those will be some of the most chaotic and stress-filled days I've yet to experience.  This month has already contained times of extreme stress and business. But this is a season I have to consecrate to my God. 

This is a season I have to be weak so that I can embrace my God's strength before 

leaving for Eastern Europe. 

This is a season I have to die to myself and turn to my only true Hope.

This is my season to consecrate. 

Gunsi Update

Eight months after hugging little Gunsi goodbye for the last time, 

I still have the incredible privilege of watching her and sweet little Metalepule grow up.

Every few weeks I'll text Ms. Dorah to see how things are with the creshe and beg for a few photos of Gunsi.  On top of that, Not Forgotten is really good about keeping

 their Facebook page updated, and though it sometimes requires some searching,  I can almost always spot my baby somewhere in the photos.  

Technology has its ups and downs, but getting to watch Gunsi 

and Metalepule grow and thrive is a major perk.  

Leaving South Africa meant leaving a huge piece of my heart with the children I loved and friendships I cherished.  For months and months I begged God to let me go back to where my heart was.  Some days my heart leaped as I thought the answer was yes.  Other days I wanted to cry as I watched the door seem to close.  Right now, it looks as though SA will not be a huge part of my immediate future, though I look forward to a possibly visiting within the next two years, and then doing part of my college missions training there within the next three years.  

Sometimes the answer is no, as I feared.  But other times the answer is wait, and God has given me the grace to be ok with that as other doors are opening.  

Anyway, back to the girls!

Gunsi is now about 18 months and thriving!  The little miracle is catching up quickly after her rough start and is doing wonderfully.

I was able to watch her sit up on her own, scoot, crawl and now even WALK through pictures and videos.  I was even able to see her "in person" take some of her first step through FaceTime and cheer her on from across the ocean.  My baby is doing so very well.  

Gunsi in the picture above was beginning to get better, but still had a long road ahead of her.  I was preparing to leave within the next couple days, and my heart was heavy not knowing what was going to happen to her.  I remember thinking that it was nice seeing her doing well that day, because I secretly feared she wouldn't make it in the months

ahead. I should have just trusted my God!  He has her in the palm of His hands and she is doing so well, as shown in the picture to the right.  

 !  

Gunsi is walking!

So proud of her.  

It made my heart happy

 seeing how much she adored

 Ms. Kedi and how much 

Ms. Kedi loved her. 

Little Metalepule has completely transformed!  From a lethargic and struggling child who would rarely make eye contact with me, she has grown into a THRIVING, healthy, and joyful little girl.  It made my heart so happy to speak to her through FaceTime and see her smile shyly and speak into the camera.  Honestly, the change is so dramatic that I wouldn't have even recognized her if I Mrs. Mimi hadn't told me it was Metalepule.  We are praising God the miracle of these girls lives! 

Metalupule in July (left) and Metalepule in January (right)

 So blessed by these girls and the miraculous work God has done in their lives!  

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Light in the Darkness

It was such a sweet Father's Day Sunday to be reminded of the father heart of my God...

I found myself feeling quite down with the weight of my helplessness in Huncie's life.  

Thinking much about her as well as discussing her situation with the teachers and others who may have advice only confirmed the utter silence of our voices against the empty ears of the government.  

And this morning left me wondering just what must I do?

And then we took off for church and the Lord encouraged me so greatly through the message.  Based out of Luke 15, the pastor talked through the stories of the lost sheep, lost coin, and the prodigal son.  In each case I saw Huncie's mother being sought after in love by the Lord as he waits for her to respond.  I listened to the parable as the Father saw His son so far off in the distance and ran to meet her with arms wide open.  As soon as Huncie's mother turns and looks toward her Father, I know he will, as He promises, run to meet her right where she is and take her home.
So very thankful for this sweet morning when my Father picked me up and reminded of His love.  He is in control, He truly, truly is.

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.  

Reflecting

I find myself sitting in a quiet Saturday morning, lacking an agenda, a schedule, and the business I’ve become accustomed to.  

The lack of business leaves me unsure as to what to do with myself, and my mind turns to Guncie.  “How is she?” I wonder.  “Has she eaten since I fed her yesterday?  Does her mother still have the baby formula we gave her for the weekend?” 

My mind continues wondering as I think about the Africaners I’ve come to know and love, and in all honesty, I cannot imagine leaving.  Nearly two weeks after arriving, it’s hard for me to remember what life was like before.  I’ve been thrust into South African life, and find myself completely at home in it.  No, I don’t see myself living the rest of my life here.  Yet I know that God has me here for a reason, and I hope with everything in me that I will be back.  For a year, maybe, or three years, or five.  We will see what God has in store for me, but I feel as though the noonday sun is beginning to peek over the horizon.  The sky is blooming with pink streaks as outlines begin to become visible and the flashlight, though still much needed, is no longer my only source of light (Psalm 119:105). 

 The future is still so uncertain, yet what peace there is in being just where God wants me right now.  Days are long and busy and tiring, yet I love them.  I smile as I finally get a load of clothes washed and cleaned, and then in those clean clothes, pick up a toddler or baby who is wet with urine.  But I hug them close and laugh, because this life is beautiful and I wouldn’t want anything else.  

I sit piled in a car with 19 others, toddlers on my lap and teachers by my side, and I smile as we rumble down the road with the African sun setting in the distance behind us.  And this morning, I’m able to sit and reflect over these past two weeks and I smile as I look forward to many more.  

Yes, there is heartbreak, and yes, there is redemption.  In it all, I’m and seeing the heart of God and praying He’ll grow and use me more than ever.  Little Guncie is His child, and not mine.  And while I will have to leave her, the other kids, and the teachers, He never will.  

My place is here for these five weeks, and it my place may be here in the future.  But He is always here, always with them, with plans for their good and their growth bigger than mine could ever be.  And I think Him for that. 

Just how many people can you fit into a car?

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My First Heartbreak

After long, busy days, Mrs. Mimi and I make a habit of sitting down with cups of tea and talking over the events of the day.  Today was hectic and crazy, yet while chopping up sausage and crying over onions during preparations for dinner, we chatted about the days highs and lows.  For me, the answer was obvious and the same.  Yesterday I met a tiny baby girl - 8 months old, yet the size of a newborn preemie as a result of malnutrition and neglect.  Guncie (pronounced Hoon-see) as both taken and broken my heart.  Since meeting her yesterday, she is all I can think about, all I can focus on.  We visited the creshe for what we intended to be a short stay first thing this morning.  As the kids finished up their breakfast and went outside to play, the teachers, Mrs. Mimi and I began to talk about Guncie.  As Ms. Kitty and Ms. Dorah spoke more about her, adding to what I had told Mrs. Mimi already, Mrs. Mimi decided that we should go and see Guncie.  “We’ll say that we heard that there was a really cute baby in the house,” Mrs. Mimi strategized as we turned to go.  And so we walked, Ms. Dorah, Mrs. Mimi and I, down the dusty red dirt path toward my baby girl.  We ducked down to enter into the shack, and saw two women with babies tied to their backs, and small child, about two years old, sticking her fingers into a mayonnaise container and licking it off her fingers.  Mucus crusted around her nose and eyes, and though she didn’t seem to be terribly thin, she was quite small for a two year old.  The lady closest to me had a baby tied to her back, and though the child was also small, she seemed decently healthy.  I wondered for an instant if I had just exaggerated the baby’s malnutrition in my mind, yet knew in my heart that I hadn’t.  And then I saw Guncie, or more like her tiny head, peeking out of what otherwise just appeared to be a shawl wrapped around her mother’s body.  The malnutrition was not imagined or exaggerated.  It was real, and ravishing the child’s frail body.  I was so thankful she had survived the night, yet I wondered how many more she could take.  The mother, who couldn’t have been older than 30, had given birth to eight babies, five of whom had died from neglect.  Ms. Kitty explained later how the mother drank both during her pregnancy and then, and though she was given baby formula, diapers, and clothes for her child by the government, she sold them to make money for alcohol.  I took Guncie in my arms as she let out a single, pitiful wail.  She was wet with urine, and was in the same clothes that she was wearing as the day before, which, of course, was wet then as well.  After getting the mothers permission to take the baby to the creshe and feed her, I tucked the blanket around Guncie’s little body and stepped out in the light, my heart breaking all the time.  Neighbors stared curiously at us as an Asian lady walked with blonde teen with a black baby in her arms down their red dirt streets.  Back at the creshe, I Ms. Dorah quickly made porridge for the baby while I laid a blanket down to put a diaper on her.  She was so thin.  Wrinkled skin sagged on her legs that should have been chubby and learning to walk, yet baby Guncie could barely hold up her head.  She looked just like the pictures of babies at malnutrition centers I had seen, only I was holding this baby in my arms and not looking at her in a photo.  I wanted to cry as I watched her struggle to eat the porridge.  She was so hungry, and yet she didn’t know how to swallow and choked on the food.  “She was put in your path for a reason, Brittany,” Mrs. Mimi told me later.  “You’ll have to ask God what that reason is.  We will have to come up with a practical plan to help her.”  I nodded silently in agreement as my head swirled with a thousand thoughts and plans, and pain over that little girl stabbed at my heart.  As I told mom later, this has been my first heartbreak experience here.  Five children in little Guncie’s family died when they ought to have lived.  Yet I am determined that Guncie will not be the next. 

It's hard to get a good perspective on her size from the photo, but the newborn size clothes she is wearing swallow her up.  

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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!    

Farm Day for the Creshe

Friday morning found us in a bustle of activity as we scrambled about to make preparations for visiting the farm with the kids from the preschool.

I am finding that everyday here is characterized by a whirlwind of busy activity, and while the business is constant, the things needing to be done varies.

Thursday, the day before the field trip, Mrs. Mimi and I scrambled around town making sure everything was in place.  Everything from buying rolls and "paloney" (an African spin on baloney), to picking up the "jumping castle", to buying a huge amount of Russian sausage, allowed me to see more of South Africa and get more a feel for the culture and people.  

Friday morning there were still things to do, but first on the list was to run out to the farm, referred to as a "plot".  Mrs. Mimi dropped me off at the plot to help set up, before she drove to town to pick up the kids.  

An hour later we heard cars driving up the gravel road, and smiled in anticipation of seeing the children's faces as they experienced something so out of the ordinary for them.  Minutes later a second and third car drove up, and the kids hopped out of the car and looked around in wide-eyed amazement.  

After arriving, Mrs. Mimi led them over to the dam, a large concrete pool with fish in it. Soon afterwards, the kids all sat down to listen as the adults went over safety instruction, more for our sakes than theres.  Rolls and boiled eggs were passed out for breakfast as the "jumping castle" was set up and excitement built.  

The jumping castle was a huge success, and a first for almost all the kids.  I laughed as I watch Ms. Dorah, the lady who began to preschool, hop into the jumping castle with all her kids and enjoy every minute of it.  

Next on the schedule was a hay ride around the farm, with a stop to see the chickens and pigs of course.  It was so cute to watch the kids as they took everything in.  Then to hear them spot the bounce house in the distance and shout "Shum-ping cast-el!  Shum-ping cast-el!" over and over again.  They are the cutest kids, and I am loving the opportunity to get to know them and their unique - and adorable - personalities.  Tomorrow I will be at the creshe (preschool) all day for the first time, and I am looking forward to the experience.  I am definitely growing and learning here, and it's pretty great.  

Seriously, she is the sweetest thing! 

This little guys is also getting close to my heart.  The extra care I gave him began as necessity.  He's a tiny little guy, slower than most of the other kids.  When I would pick him up and carry him, he would just sit there, but little by little he is beginning to interact with me, pat my shoulder and talk in his tiny little voice in a language I don't understand and wish that I did.  A few hours into the field trip, DK, one of the creshe teachers, looked and me and said, "Yo, Brittany, looks like you've found yourself a son!"  That wasn't the only comment of the kind that I heard that day.  Yes, I've been here a week and it feels like home.  

Next up was lunch, followed by more time on the Jumping Castle.  

Finally, before the kids left, we had a photo shoot with them and the teachers. 

Cousins. 

Such a sweet pair of siblings. 

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