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Category: Personal

First Fruits

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Dinner Time

Papa Zakarias, the one at the head of the table, decided to put in a little garden area on the side of our house. He has a farm back home, so he is quite a natural at getting things to grow. He was able to buy some small starter plants and planted Couve a Mozambican green leafy plant much like spinach. They eat Couve multiple times a week, usually cut in thin strips or pieces and boiled with salt and onions, sometimes with potatoes and carrots. It is yummy!

Well, thanks to Papa Zakarias and his hard work, we were able to enjoy the first fruits celebrated with a family dinner! How awesome is that? It was joyous!

Also, this week you can keep Jon and our family in mind. Jon is gone for 3 nights to Durban, South Africa to take part in a training at a Hospice center there. He will return Wednesday evening. The original plan was for the two of us to go together and Karasi could stay with me, but her travel documents could not be ready in time. That means I am home with the 3 girls for 4 days! We will be fine, but I do suspect I will be extra tired. Pray for Jon to learn lots and make some good contacts and pray for patience and grace for this Mama.

We love you guys!

Sunday Nights

A Layne Post

I wish you could spend a Sunday evening with us. I am just sure your hearts would be as full as ours after a short one hour with our patients. You see, a little over a month ago, our friends were inside eating dinner with us when we turned on a Baby Einstein video for our fussy little ones approaching their bedtime. Turns out all were fascinated and thoroughly enjoyed watching the animals from around the world on the big screen.

Jon then had the wonderful idea to watch an episode of the BBC series Planet Earth that his Dad so graciously gave to us (Thanks, Dan!) once a week. When we asked if they’d be interested, it was unanimously agreed. So Sunday nights have now turned into Planet Earth and popcorn nights! My girls are equally happy to be a part – Jovie toddling around eating everyone’s popcorn and Anaya pointing at whatever is on the screen and saying words and phrases that are well beyond her little 2.5 year old self, and now Karasi either sleeping on her pillow or kicking her legs in the middle of the floor.

From monkeys that get in water, which is unheard of to a Mozambican, to Pakistani men dancing in joy because of a snow leopard sighting (whom the patients would insist was under the influence), the patients are intrigued. Will the wild dog catch the impala? Can otters really scare off a crocodile? A fish with no eyes? Our living room is filled with shouts and laughter and always ends in a floor scattered with popcorn.

I wouldn’t trade it.

It is another one of those moments where we forget anyone is sick, where we find joy and make memories. I am so grateful for these small opportunities and for the Lord’s presence in fellowship.

Karasi (Full of Life and Wisdom) Nitara (Having Deep Roots) Heller (Brighter)

A Jon Post

For one breathless moment we wait for a cry and a gasp.

Mother and Karasi Nitara

Mother and Karasi Nitara

For one breathless moment we trust that divine lungs are blowing into a helpless and tiny body.

For one breathless moment we wait.

And Karasi Nitara Heller sings… she sings her birthsong, melting into the unintelligible songs of angels, all covered in her mother’s blood and amniotic fluid… she sings.

Then quiet, a whimpering mother clinging to her daughter…

Then quiet, an IV drip hanging from the mother’s vein, an intrusive pest into this intimate greeting…

Then more songs, more joy, a mother’s laborsong mingled with her daughter’s birthsong.

More life, and all the wisdom of the mother poured into her daughter. All the deep roots planted over 9 months of bodily sacrifice bursting forth to the surface of pain mixed with trust all washed in sponges of alcohol based disinfectant and a joyous love.

Singing Together

Singing Together

And mother sits with Karasi Nitara and both sing softly in cries and hymns. Then the angels join in harmony with Karasi Nitara’s laughter and her mother’s weeping.

Then they fall silent to witness this holy moment of life bringing life, of blood poured out for the life of another, of tears wept in anticipation of the now.

Karasi Nitara come forth in Life and Wisdom. Plant your deep roots and shine brighter and brighter until noon day.

(with a 70s tennis player on the right there)

Family of Five

Filling Time

A Layne Post

A recent question in one of my Bible studies Brave asked, “What does being saved mean to you?”

I felt myself reflecting on that as I thought about this weekend, this remembrance of what Christ did for me – His blood spilled so that I may live, His body raised and Holy Spirit given.

My recent reading of Ann Voskamp’s devotional One Thousand Gifts influenced my response to the question. In one of her journals Ann says, “That in Christ, time is not running out. This day is not a sieve, losing time. In Christ, we fill – gaining time.” A couple days later she expounds a little more saying, “Time is not running out… With each passing minute, each passing year, there’s this deepening awareness that I am filling, gaining time. We stand on the brink of eternity.”

So what does being saved mean to me?

It means I am no longer a dying person. I have received this incredible opportunity that I no longer have to live this life counting down minutes, counting down days, trying to “fit it all in”, waiting for some end. Instead I am able to fill my minutes and my days – fill them up to eternity. I get to soak it all in, experience it to the fullest, slow down enough to take note of Him – to thank Him. I get to live in glorious anticipation of eternity.

In my ministry it has shaken things up. What does this mean for the dying person given months or weeks to live? Christ is hope. He can be yours. Hope can be yours. If you are breathing you still have time to live – to fill. In Christ there is no end… maybe transition, but no end.

 

Thank you, Jesus for what you did on that dark Friday. (John 19:28-37)

Thank you that your blood offered in place of mine only brought hope and peace to this dying and far away soul. (Ephesians 2:11-17)

Thank you for defeating the grave and living again – that I too might live. (Luke 24:6-8)

Thank you for expelling fear. (1 John 4:18, Romans 8:15)

Thank you for hope. (1 Peter 1:3-9)

Thank you for eternity. (Titus 3:4-7)

Transformation

A Layne Post

I remember being a new Mama.

Somewhere after the hype and excitement of this new little person, after all the cooing and gasping over each new movement, after the adrenaline rush ended and tiredness set in… yeah, somewhere after that, I was left floundering and suddenly not sure of who I was. I thought being a missionary meant giving your life in service, but then this little person invaded every second of my life, and not only that, she was completely and utterly dependent on me. My life of service was just beginning.

As a missionary to the sick and the dying, it was easy to see how I was serving Jesus by holding puke buckets, wiping sweaty heads, and holding weary hands. It felt good to be used by God in such a way. I was obeying the obvious command in Matthew 25:35-40.

As a Mama it was far more difficult to see how scrubbing poopy cloth diapers, soothing a crying baby, or making baby food was service to Jesus.

In my mind I knew the Lord was pleased by my service to my family, but how to feel satisfied in that service wasn’t as easy. I found a place of contentment in serving at the hospital one day a week, all on my own. It was good and right, and I felt like I could breathe again. Not in the escape of my child, but in having something that was mine, that was me. If I’m honest, however, I never found the secret to that satisfied feeling that could be found in poopy diapers, dishes, laundry, etc. There were days it still loomed – discontentment and purposelessness.

And then I had Jovie.

And then I got pregnant.

And here is the deal. I still have the privilege of serving once a week on my own, and usually I get to go another time in the week with my girls, putting me at the hospital twice a week. Those are cherished sweet times I never want to give up, but somewhere over the past couple of years I’ve transformed, thanks be to God, into a Mama. It is who I am. Recently as I felt myself holding a woman’s dying head close to my chest, as I stroked her hairline and kissed her forehead, I realized I do that because I am a Mama. It is so very natural because I am a Mama. I haven’t lost who I was; I’ve become a better me, a more selfless me, a me that looks more like Christ. Sometimes the process of learning selflessness feels like you are losing everything that makes you you, and that is scary. We need to trust our Creator, who fashioned us in our mothers’ wombs. Perhaps you are becoming more you than you knew possible.

And over the last couple of weeks the Lord has been doing some more transforming. He has come full circle and begun to whisper that secret I was searching for a few years back. His tool has been Ann Voskamp’s devotional One Thousand Gifts Devotional: Reflections on Everyday Graces. What I’ve learned is that I’ve been ungrateful. Not purposefully, but neglectfully. In my new-found habit of keeping a “thankfulness journal” I have discovered contentment in caring for my children and husband. Joy that has been found in giving thanks to the Giver – for tan lines, mango salsa, laying in the grass watching clouds, crawling, singing with my children, a home to clean, a rare late morning in bed, etc. As I read on Ann’s blog today:

And “Give thanks IF you are happy” is in reality:

If you want to be happy — give thanks.”

Giving thanks is what gets you joy.

I have found it true in my life, since I’ve begun purposeful thanksgiving. So reader, give thanks to Him and discover the joy and contentment He has to give.