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.  

serving withhttp://notforgottensa.com

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. 

Serving with http://notforgottensa.com.

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.

So Close

  The hump is finally, finally over, and now I wait out these last few days in a surreal excitement that makes my heart flutter and keeps me awake at night in daydreams. 

Go-time is seriously so close and my excitement levels are sky-high.  

I can't wait to see what God will do in these five weeks.

I've had incredible support here on the home front, and I'm so grateful for it.

This past Sunday my church prayed over me, and next day the drama team from school did the same.

I'm so thankful for the body of Christ that has come around me in support and encouragement - what a blessing you all are!  

God has been drilling into me the importance of counting the cost of following Him, of understanding what it means before committing to it.

Our God doesn't want half-hearted followers, am I right? 

It makes me wonder what He's preparing me for, but I know that whatever it is, the will of God is good, acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2).  

Trips like these are often full of questions, pain, and lack of understanding of why innocent children have to suffer the way that they do.

Even the thought of it breaks my heart, and I know that seeing it first-hand it will break me apart.

But I also know that my God is bigger, and he redeems.  

Whatever He will do, it is truly good, acceptable and perfect.

And now that it's almost go-time, lets go, and see what God will do.  

Time for the real thing, y'all! 

South Africa - 11 days

The countdown became serious as soon as 50 days until South Africa hit.

Now we are at 11.

Oh my goodness... 

I remember coping the days into my planner, beginning at about 90.  Counting down from 60, to 45, to 30, to 20 and so on.  It was a breeze at first - quick and easy. 

Then I hit 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14, it became tedious, and dragged on and on.  In the back on my mind I was thinking, "I'll never make it.  There so much time."  

Time passed, and week four hit, then three, then two.

But there was still so much to do.  

Final exams, Jr/Sr, tests, soccer tournament, honors society zoo trip, etc., etc., etc.

But now, at 11 days left, most of that is over.  Exams have been exempted, tests have been taken, the soccer tournament is a thing of the past, the zoo trip is now memories and pictures... and now 12 days are left and reality has stuck.

South Africa 2k16, is almost here.  Really and truly, it is almost here.  

Wow, you guys, lets do this.
Departure in 11 days.