gingerbread shoe

The secret to our gingerbread dough was told to me this weekend, I have waited a long, long time to find out – well five batches later, I not only knew the secret ingredient (orange juice & cloves) but I had the recipe memorized!

It was a wild day in the hill country of Fredericksburg…Uncle Steve was at it again with his attempts to roast chestnuts on an open fire. We began the voting on Friday night, thus Old Woman in the Shoe was chosen and our engineers began early Saturday morning with chicken wire, measurements and sketching – our only other surprise was Aunt Jinx who surprised the entire family and showed because she can’t seem to miss out if there is a party going on!

The all-weekend event ended Sunday afternoon when the last gingerbread kid was secured climbing the shoelaces of the boot – we were done (check out the pictures and tune in for how we will destroy it Christmas day (and it if will actually make it 8 hrs. to Louisiana!)

Hope your holidays are just as fun!
Merry Christmas!

running through the creek

The cold hit our excited faces, like two kids who could be no younger.
We ran.
Often times the physical reflects the emotional, as our bodies longed to go so much faster than our hearts would allow.

We exchanged few words as we ran, we were both lost in our wonder of God and our heart’s love.
I could see the creek’s invitation up ahead, shall we go?
At his hesitation I ask…
Shall we make such small excuses for an invitation to adventure?

Kyle and I took to the woods and I could see it was going to be harder for me to jump or climb the rocks than I had thought. In my best English warrior princess voice I say…

I fear I can only see one way.

Kyle’s response stays with me even now, weeks later…
Well, that is your first problem, because there is always another way.

It seems this way in life, that we are captivated by only seeing one way, sure that God couldn’t possibly have found another way? We get caught staring at this one path: this is how my career must look, this is what love from my spouse looks like, and these are the ways my kids should choose.

When I stop to find a little trust and peace, I can see there are other ways. When I breathe in deep, there are ways I can trust my God sees that I can’t even recognize.

Kyle stood there looking at the different jumps and the rocks and the mud – deep in his leadership he muttered….The true struggle is finding which is the best way.

I have a deep respect for a man’s calling to lead. Having been single for some time now, I must say as a woman the stress and frustration of leading myself is a daunting task, I long for the comfort of my husband’s covering. Yet the Lord has sweetly whispered and sometimes yelled of His provision and covering, and for moments I have rested in it. I love the verse, and I rest between His shoulders. We can rest there, men and women alike can rest in His ultimate provision. As we externally wrestle to find the best way, He is chuckling above as He lays out the path right under our feet. It is truly a gift to build a relationship along the way of trusting the Father’s faithfulness.

There was much mud and water that followed Kyle and I’s adventure through the creek all the way home. We arrived cold and dirty but with smiles that stayed the rest of the day.

This has to be a picture of His invitation to life, a calling that has little directions, many guesses, lots of mud, and many rivers to cross. Yet we made it home, and realized His concern was not so much the path we took. He was just glad we made it home.

sounds of home

This is the helmet conch, dad explained.

To a 5 yr. old, a glassy coated shell from the ocean is treasure beyond belief. I would carry it next to my ear, listening to the sound of the ocean. I asked my dad how it kept the sound inside. He told me that when a conch is taken from the water, it dies, and it will forever holds the sound of the sea…the sound of its home.

I think this is much like each of us, our hearts carry the sound of where we belong. It may be why we believe in destiny or fate, why
I love the idea of carrying who you are deep inside of you.

For years after my dad left, I would often take the shell and lay listening to its sound. Wishing the ocean would wrap me up, wishing my father would wrap me up.

Today, Thanksgiving day, I am missing the sound of the ocean and the sound of my father. There are no oceans and no shells anywhere around.

I went up stairs to be away from the busyness and in the closet I found a box with my name, Christmas presents from last year (can you believe my life is so busy I fail to open presents, it is true) but my mom had said she had bought some things for my house one day, and since I am no where near having a house, I left them wrapped.

Is God so purposeful that today I would opened the first present a year later, and my tears brim….I was looking at a carved wooden angel with long brown hair, and she was holding a beautiful conch shell up to her ear.

Who are You, God?

burning the vows

He was holding the scissors up to one of his dreads, questioning if he really wanted to cut them.
Do they free me or keep me in bondage?
The peace came, and he cut it.

He continued cutting them off, one by one and burned them. He said they smelled sweet like incense.

This is a tradition of the Nazarite - to grow their hair out when they make a vow to God. When they have fulfilled the vow, they cut their hair to signify its completion and then burn it.

As he watched them burn, he said he felt freedom come.

Not the Savior

I am listening to her words on the phone….
she is asking me if she is beautiful,
she is asking him if she is beautiful,
she is asking the world is she is beautiful.
I am asking the same question.
Each woman is asking the question.

If dad doesn’t answer it, if I don’t know how to answer it, if mom answered but I couldn’t hear her, then who will tell us we are beautiful? Because society tells me to be a slut and the world asks me to be a whore…and if my breast aren’t large enough, doctors tell me they can fix it. Fix it? Like it is some deformity or disease.

How will femininity be taught if there are few women who can remember the definition? What will I tell my reflection everyday? What will I tell my daughters one day?

I ask God about it often – see, I really want to be beautiful. I want to capture men’s approval, I want to collect the world’s affirmation so that I can feel beautiful. I want my husband to think I am beautiful enough to be faithful or my father to think I am beautiful enough to love. Why does that seems so impossible?

And He answers…you weren’t made to be the Savior.

We weren’t made to save them….a woman’s beauty is not a man’s savior. A woman’s beauty is supposed to ultimately point a man to God eternal glory, the truest beauty. Thus a man’s strength was not made to be a woman’s savior, it was to draw her into God’s perfect strength.

The battle is harder now, because men and women who have little sense of their beauty and their strength are trying to save each other. Women build their beauty upon the desire to complete and answer a man’s hunger, yet she will always fall short. She will always fail to satisfy his lust and he will fail to satisfy her expectation.

5 a.m.

It’s dark outside and the Texas air is a bit colder than my previous Central American mornings. Seriously, who likes waking up when it is still dark, I mumble to Kinsey as we brush our teeth. I got in late last night for Thanksgiving holiday, and to my normal expectation of family ritual, we are all up early going to workout at the wellness center together.

Five of us pile into the car as I laugh out loud at Uncle Steve’s brilliant white headband that lies in a straight line across his forehead. I think to myself that if I had this entourage with me, I might get up every morning to workout. Now stretching is a great preface, but as the song My Hips Don’t Lie begins our circuit routine – I can’t help but laugh as I watch my beloved family workout in their perfect form. Aunt Nicole’s arms are flailing vigorously as she lunges up to complete her set of sit-ups, Kinsey and Alan will not be left in the dust with their elevated heart rate apparent in each jumping jack and jump rope. Uncle Steve’s headband is methodically peeping at me in the mirror with every push-up. And little old me, well, I laugh as I attempt to balance on this exercise ball, certain no one has ever mastered looking attractive bouncing up and down on a circular rubber object.

It doesn’t end there, our $10 was not well spent until we walked out of the building only to run up a hill – now the hill country of Texas is a small feat to one who lives in the mountains, but to this flat land Louisiana/Florida girl it was quite the push. (don’t worry, I was the first one back!)

My only complaint to the morning was the dissonance of the ever-still darkness we drove home in. Somehow I am not conditioned to understand how people get up and finish such a task before the sun is awake. Yet I look forward to my holiday here, because with my family, it is always an adventure.

Burning of the Pines

We were driving through the Pine Reserves in the Maya mountains – this Reserve was once filled with acres of beautiful strong pine trees. In the midst of rainforest mountains, a wild piece of land grew with thousands of pines. Their strong backs in rows across the land.

The trees were plagued with black beetles and the entire reserve was almost lost. The only way to save it was to set fire to the trees. The fire, which stripped them of all of their glory, was actually their savior. The forest burned with brilliance only leaving small remnants of what resembles a tree. It no longer draws tourist in, the ash is all they see. But if you look close you would find deep under the burned bark, sap remains. Life is still beating deep in the roots.

The irony is chilling as I am looking for myself in this forest. Trying to find if I am still standing, if he is still standing? The disease was too deep, it had spread too far – we couldn’t catch it, all would have been lost. He dropped the match and walked away.

I wonder if God saw the light from up there? I wonder if He notices when we are burned up, if He too stops and stares? Seems our God is too wild for me. Only He would allow beauty and disaster to share the same scene. The fires take everything. Little is left.

I stare at the trees covered in ash, stare at my future and back at my past. Which one more beautiful, who is to say? Is it brilliance of glory that I am burned up by His mercy…and I am left to discover that their is beauty in what someone else said is an ugly, burned pine tree.

In a few years I will return to this forest - I will dance in its radiance, in the re-growth and the glory.

Fighting crime and hanging hammocks

Boating to the mainland wasn't half as fun as packing into our 15 passenger rental van. After picking up a friend at the airport, we headed into the rainforest...passing everything from Taiwanese communities and the Haitesville jail, to finding ourselves a Mennonite! I must move on quickly through my story as the hitch-hiker though one of our favorite stories is one of many.

On our way to the Mountain Equestrian lodge, the Mennonite attempted to recruit us to his church - promising 20 men for every woman. We kindly thanked him for his offer as we let him out at his horse shoeing job...on to our weekend in the mountains! We spent our days cantoring horses through the rainforest (learning every plant antidote), hiking through waterfalls and pools, and our evening playing Scrabble and Texas hold'em by kerosene lamp...definitely the life!

We soon headed to Guatemala to climb the ruins and run from the "conejo (rabbit) hunters" better known as banditos! The land was beautiful...an untouched country with landscapes where huge lakes kissed mountainsides. The magnificence of a sunset over an untouched mountain surrounded by the sea took my breath away.

Since this adventure to the mainland, we have settled back into the normal. We spent our days at a fly fishing resort: kayaking to the reef, healing our mosquito bites in the ocean and still finding the occassional tick. My favorite is swimming into the middle of the ocean and letting the water carry me, the ocean seems to be the only place big enough to handle my heart. We are going to relax a few days....dad and I set up hammocks this morning and then ran to the bridge to report an attempted burglar who wears a gray hat and blue backpack...the elderly tariff collector at the bridge assured us he would keep a look out! i laugh at the simplicity of this place.

I miss my friends tons but who would fight crime here on the island if I weren't here. I am looking for a replacement so I can come home soon!

all my love.

Belizean Citizenship

So we've been here a week and dad tells me I should consider dual citizenship, I laugh as I think about my trip on the motorcycle last night that left me stranded asking the grocery guy to help me start it...i am not so clever when it comes to Belizean transportation: golf carts, boats, and motorcycles! It has been good to be here - the sea has welcomed me with her silence that heals my heart a little more. God seems to be giving me kisses through sea turtles as I have chased two in the last two snorkeling trips (and they are pretty rare!)

Autumn and I have been spending 5-6 hours a day on the book, and I must say I have never felt more vulnerable than to actually live out this dream to write and publish. I don't want to admit how much I love to write, that if people really would read it, I might write for the rest of my life!

If this wasn't exciting enough, I broke through another fear tonight as I sang karaoke with Bonnie and Autumn - picture a Latino bar with the smallest dance floor and a french woman who dances with such fierce abandonment I find myself next to her smiling and dancing the same! I have never seen so many latino men sing slow spanish love songs with more passion than I have ever seen in the movies!

If all these things were not enough yet I will try to win you over with this, dad thinks we need to practice if the world were to end...so we leave tomorrow for a weekend camping trip on the island! We are taking 10 of us and we are fishing and living on the land....dad says that reality t.v. is not his thing, and he wants to play Survivor in real life, so off to the island!

There is my update....heels and a machete will always be my preference!

disorderly beautiful

“God hasn't invited us into a disorderly, unkempt life but into something holy and beautiful—as beautiful on the inside as the outside. If you disregard this advice, you're not offending your neighbors; you're rejecting God, who is making you a gift of his Holy Spirit.” -1 Thessalonians, The Message


I am baffled by this verse, for what is inside of me is definitely a ‘disorderly, unkempt life’ – I mean, I only show you so little of loneliness, so little of my face – so what does it mean if God has only invited me into something holy and beautiful? It means that either I am in sin or I am redefining beauty. Is it beautiful to cry and curse till there are no longer words but silence the only thing that holds your heart, because pain can not be heard? Then that is what I will call beauty, in its elegance and grace, because all I have of holiness is by invitation He’s laced.

We read these verses blindly or we watch t.v.
and beauty and holy are no longer me.
They are chipped out and painted on canvas across my drive home,
of women and men yet I know their alone.
See the hurting and suffering our hearts try to lock
up, are bursting of pain - if only someone would knock.
Yet I falter to know if that is beautiful at all
when she’s left there naked and there is no you?
Stories upon stories I hear everyday and if hurting and pain are not holy, what do I say,
to all those who linger without limbs from the fight…. I pray that God redefines beauty alike.

A tribute to friendship

What can I say about people who stand beside you in your struggle: hope for you, cry with you, laugh with you, pray for you, and commit to seeing you reach all that is within you. I want to love the way these women have loved me - i want to love all people with such freedom. There have been women in my life who have stood next to me (in this picture and don't forget Bonnie, Toni, Angie and Beth!) If life would bless us with only one gift, it should be love - at the end of it all we will be asked if we loved well. I want to love well....for all is lost if there is not love. It is worth more than anything I have, thus everything I will give to learn what it means to love. May we all experience it.

Mom's rocking chair

I tiptoe to the glass room with the phone in my hands
and crawl into the rocker set near the window.
Its dark and I listen to words from a distance
and wonder if relationship is worth such precision.
I trace the wood on the arms of my momma’s old rocker
the scratches left by my fingernails long ago.
As I sway in the rocker it takes me back to her songs
that she’d sing; back to the rhythm of the methodical creak.
Now a woman I sit but as a baby I lay in this rocker that held me,
that lessened my pain. Same fabric holds tears that it held long ago
and if mommas where wooden then here is where I’d go.
If I found her I’d ask her to sing to me please
because life and its brokenness has not offered her ease.

mother of dan

Wilson has become one of my favorite of the Malawian staff here, as driver, he has been the one through the summer who has awakened many a smile on my face. Wilson has brought me to and from the village I lived in, he has been the one to carry in water or food for us…thus everyone loves Wilson.

So as we set out to Lake Malawi today for a staff appreciation event, Wilson makes sure I am sitting next to his wife and kids. “Abanda, you are about to meet my better half”, he tells me, as we drive up to his hut in the village. Eight people live in the little hut that I stare at, Wilson has been married 22 years and they have six kids. I look over at Jody reading a Francine River’s Christian romance novel and I wonder if I have any concept of true romance.

As Wilson’s son, Esau naps on my lap drooling down my arm, I study Wilson and his wife Pauline as they interact. She laughs at him quite often as Wilson is a character to say the least. I notice the name he calls her is different than her name – I still fighting my romantic make-up assume it is a pet name they call each other. By the time the picnic rolls around I ask Wilson what is the translation for the name he calls his wife. They look at each other fondly, “ I call her mother of Dan and she calls me father of Dan.” My little romantic notions are squashed. “Why?” I ask in Chichewa. He explains and what I got from it was that it was their first creation of life together.

It wasn’t a “he’s your son” comment, it was a beautiful mystery that somehow two people could offer their very selves in human form. Of course this beautiful epiphany was told over Wilson serving his wife cabbage and her breast feeding their 10 month old. It was a realistic picture, yes we have six kids and most days we are running with our heads cut off taking care of them, but we also honor the beauty and wonder of creation.

Later that night, Jody and I talked about her romance novel and the future husbands we dream about, but more intrigued by all of that we were speechless to think of the power of love shared that very night in a mud hut between a man and a woman and their six children.

African Faith

Chance and Henri stayed and talked with me tonight after dinner. We started to talk about the statistics of divorce in America versus Africa. They told me of differences they face in relationships, they spoke of how in the church women of strong faith are lacking. I said from my perspective it is the opposite in the states as it is the men who are lacking of strong faith within the church. I asked them about whether they believed there was one person made to be your soul mate. We got into a deep discussion of God’s will and His sovereignty. Chance says God does not want to hide His will for us from us. He says if we are seeking Him the Father will be faithful. It sounded so simple, profound and true standing there in the kitchen in the middle of Africa. There was no doubt, no fear in what they spoke. I thought of my friends back home; ones who are still waiting to meet the right spouse, those who are divorced, and all the pain of relationships that I have heard or encountered. Could it be that simple? The Lord wants good for us and He is faithful.

I told them I have been praying more and I ask God each time, give me African faith.

Give them the world

I was probably no older than 8 when my aunt Jinx gave me a world map for Christmas. Don’t ever say I didn’t give you anything, I gave you the world! I didn’t really understand it, but she and my aunt Nicole did take me and Valeska on a trip to Europe that summer. Something came alive in me when I would travel, the countries and the cultures became my favorite teacher – I began to see and learn things that I would have never known.

Thus in our small village of Chiwengo this summer we built a library for the children we taught. The outside of the library has an empty wall which I decided needed some livening up…thus I gave the children what my aunt gave me….the world! It was my favorite contribution – a room full of books and a wall with the world! Check out the picture!

Safari in Zambia

Much has happened, I have actually just returned from safari in Zambia and it was amazing! Crossing the border was a little harder than expected but once in the jeeps scouting animals, I was so excited! We took morning, mid-day, and evening tours – I saw water buffalo, monkeys, elephants, leopards, hyenas, elk looking animals, lions, and even cubs!!! Absolutely breath-taking!

The animals were so close to us, it was phenomenal, my only disappointment was not seeing an actual kill! BUT I did have an elephant outside my lodge looking in my window!

Now I am back to the base camp, the interns have gone home, and I am just tying up loose ends. I will go back to see the children one more time! I have exactly one week till I get home!

All my love!

Happy Birthday Kinz and a dedication to Klemmer!

It seems like I am always surprised by how my attitude changes by just 2 liters of cold water, a coke, and a candy bar! Now for those who know me that is not my regular diet but after hiking mount Kasunga that is what left me a really happy woman. (please note here that I am a cheap date!)

Story goes we took over 50 of the children in our village to hike Mount Kasunga, well picture me, first with my charge of 15 interns and then 50 more African kids - it was incredible, and I stayed centered the entire time!!! So my bag is packed with pb&j sandwiches and boiled eggs for everyone's lunch and we rent a huge coaster that we stand for the hour drive to the mountain.

We get there, hike to the top, enjoy our lunch, I enjoy the less weight and then we say a quick share time about the incredible view from the mountain's top....and we head down. Now, in the midst of watching everyone half run down, half stay at the top, me staying centered...i remembered my silent hill climb with group in San Diego, and I began to look at ways to live differently even in the hike down. So I am suddenly aware of two women who are rolling logs down the mountain, we are talking big logs that crash down and I am first fearful of the kids getting hit. Then I am in awe of having a job of rolling logs down the mountainside in the sun...with babies on your backs and barefoot. (noting to myself I will never complain about being too tired to vacuum!!)

As I am in awe of these women I yell to the group to think about what it would be like to have this as your career. I then take a log and give it a couple of rolls, wow, definitely hard. Then I decide, what would change the world here? Maybe if we all rolled a log down, the women might remember us as the azungus who helped them work? So I began to roll a log (note, they roll 3 logs at a time!) but I could only do one, so I am rolling it for awhile and I look back and the woman is just watching me and when she sees what I am doing, she smiles!

Well, even with my encouragments I only got one other log roller (i think the Klemmer group might have responded differently) but I was different when I made it down the rest of the mountain.

Climbing onto the coaster, my girls kept telling me Christy, I was so proud of you. I was so proud of you as my leader, pushing those logs down. And I thought, I want to live this way everyday, looking in the most ordinary places to live beyond.

(not that hiking a mountain in Africa is an ordinary occurrence!)

love you guys!

Baby Bridget

Baby Bridget has just come. She is our newest baby. When we first got her she was the boniest little baby who couldn’t cry because she lacked the strength. Thus the first time she cried was when she saw a white person. We automatically apologized but the aunties were elated because Bridget had cried. They explained to us that to be healthy enough to cry was what they had been praying for. I was once again amazed by the perspective the Malawian hold, to think of the optimistic side, the idea that to cry means you must first be healthy enough, you must know the good side if there is ever a hope for knowing the lack of.

All That I Have Sown

I realized today how it bothers me that I am getting older. My friends are marrying, having children, and starting the next step in their lives. So the not so kind critic comes to question where I am in life, who I have become, and what have I accomplished thus far.

“How many transportation vehicles have I sat journaling in as I tour some obscure country?” I ask myself. Have all my deep thoughts and longings accomplished anything for me up to now?

Have I sown all I have to offer…

I am a small girl who has become more now to resemble a woman, a warrior princess learning to be a queen. My heart has to this point been given to many: some broken pieces to men, some tearful places left around the world, mostly it has been stitched within the laughter and smiles of those I love dearly.

I don’t know if I’ve done it right, don’t know if I’ve missed paths which could have offered me more but I hope for this, that all You have for me would not be lost, not one moment or wish – for my greatest accomplishment thus far has been finding one who dreams for me beyond what I could….and then giving Him all of me.

Time takes its toll on us

Time takes its toll on us. Time takes away but love remains. There is a quiet excitement that rises within me, it is early morning and the bus ride back to the village is welcoming. Africa is good for me and God is good to me. Hosea 2:14 runs through my head, “ I will allure her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. That’s where I am going back to, the desert, to a place I have come to love. Vulnerability. True authenticity.

There are certain questions that always find us when we are quiet long enough. Questions of the past, wonders of the future. I have lived in the silence that leaves one restless but now I touch momentarily on the resting that leads to silence. All the wondering, the doubts, the hopes, the hunger is met though not answered. This journey of intimacy is my life, not just an African theme, no it is the life You’ve called me to. In the lost chapter of my story I have begun to question vulnerability – whether intimacy remains intimate when plastered for all to see…yet the answer is no one can know us even if our souls paraded naked on paper. For the soul can only be reached by one touch, the touch of it’s Creator. So as you read my heart across this screen know it can only be seen because I have been loved by the greatest of Fathers, lovers, and Kings. My heart is here for you to see because it is no longer my own.

The call of authenticity is only satisfied through vulnerable intimacy with the author of silence.

defining wealth in africa

Okay, so we went to Lake Malawi this past weekend for a retreat with our teams – it was gorgeous! We took a boat out to an island and went snorkeling and cliff diving! It was incredible, don’t worry about me guys, loving the orphans in Africa is a blast! I have to say though, it messes with your mind to go back and forth between such poverty and such wealth. I have gotten better with the struggle. It seems there are pros and cons in every place and I must say the same with poverty and wealth, it seems as if it is a matter of perspective. I love the freedom that financial wealth has given me yet I find there is something in the African people that I long for, something that no American I know can afford....I sat in a village today shucking maiz with the Malawian women and there laughter filled the lulls of our limited conversation - I think I laughed more with them than I have for a long time in America. My friend told me the other day that he smiles more here than he ever has, really smiling...that is what I find here, they smile from the depths of their hearts and I am touched in a place I haven't been touched when I am home in the states. How can that be...the richest country can't offer me what the poorest has lavished upon me?

building a definition of wealth.

all my love

getting to know the kids....

The story of my favorites….I am not supposed to have favorites I know, but if I could just tell you that I didn’t mean to fall for these few. First there is Lufina, she is one of the village girls, she comes over and stands outside of our door because she doesn’t go to school – her clothes are torn and we actually first bonded over me sewing her clothes – I noticed that I started giving her the best buttons, after that I was in love! We have dance parties in front of our house and she has been coming to my tutoring classes in the afternoons.

Then there is Langford, who is 6 but looks 3 because he was in a malnutrition ward for 6 months after his mother died. He and his brother (who is autistic) were adopted by COTN after they were found by social services. Langford has the sweetest smile and it takes everything in my not to pick him up when he runs to me – because he is not growing well picking him up will hinder his development – so we do stretches instead!

So many stories, so many children, so many my favorites….

more from malawi

there seems to be too much to say....it is hard when you get 10 minutes of internet sporadically! but the update is all is well. I tried to write a couple of blogs but the electricity has gone out and I have lost two entries thus I will say things are great here. I have actually been out on a weekend trip to Lake Malawi and I went cliff jumping (which was awesome!) pictures later! I miss the kids and can't wait to get back to them - we will be in a new village tomorrow and then will head home (Chiwengo) on Wednesday and I will be able to sing my kids to sleep!

i hope you are all doing well, I miss you guys!

My First Days in Chiwengo

“Auntie Abanda!” the kids yell and run into my arms now... Christy was a bit hard and luckily I was given a Malawian name by one of the house mothers, Abanda, which means ‘near the waters’ – I like it. You should see this little village tucked away in the middle of nowhere, a small “ gated community” surrounded by miles of maiz fields.

On my morning run, I found a beautiful path through the outer fields, there are the occasional farmers which can be seen half a mile away, otherwise it is just me, God, and the sunrise. It is my only time alone and thus I crave it.

Our days consist of getting to kids ready for school (5:55am!), helping cooking lunch for the houses (grinding flour, etc.), teaching and tutoring the children in the afternoons (I judged the debate teams today!), sports and then devotionals at night, and my favorite….bedtime stories and bedtime songs!

So picture this, kids everywhere, every time I walk out my door they are standing there, they come into our house, we have community wash day with huge buckets near the boar hole (the manual water well pump) and the kids help us wash our clothes and we wash theirs, and you should see me balance buckets on my head these days! I am in heaven – we have the orphans in our orphanage and then we have the village kids who come to our house. There is such a difference in the children we are working with and the village children. It is amazing to see what God is doing in these kids lives how He is healing them and they are growing into amazing healthy kids.

The flip side is organizing and leading 13 women in one house as we all cook, clean, and live together. In addition to leading devotions with them, I answer questions all the time, question that I have no idea the answer to! So some of the quick stories are taking girls to the local nurse which I assisted a minor surgery, it was cut from a bike accident! (actually I just got to hold the blade and clean the wound!), tonight I actually duct taped a piece of the porcelain the size of a both my hands back into the toilet bowl (how does a toilet bowl break?), and we get up at 2:36am to fill buckets with water when the pipes turn on, and the electricity goes off at 6pm in the evenings!

When we keep all of these things in order we still find crazy mishaps, like on our outreach to the village our teams bikes broke: pedals fall off, brake failure, chains falls off, you name it, I was riding and both my pedals fell off! Absolutely hilarious! (Sidenote: at that village I witnessed the tribal dancing and initiation of their king! It was awesome!)

So this is a week and a half into it….please keep me in your prayers! I love you guys!
- auntie abanda


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We are biking down sandy roads to the nearby village of Chipiri. The kids in front of have to keep stopping as we the “aunties” can’t seem to keep up with the Malawian pace. When we get to the village there are men running around dressed in tribal wear. It is phenomenal as their faces are covered with brown spotted feathers, as if there entire heads were the bodies of chickens. Their costumes are clothing strips of multiple bright colors that shake to and fro when they dance. They are initiating a king for the village our gracious guide explains to us. We watch in amazement, I sick that I left my camera back at the house. It seems as if some things aren’t meant to be photographed as they might lessen the effect of the experience. We left not long after our presentation and road our bikes home into the sunset. Despite the occasional falling off of our pedals, we made it home safely.

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It must be too soon to be settled as the distant chanting of “Father Abraham” does not lull me into a nap rather spurs me to put aside my book and write. We (14 girls and I) have moved into the small village of Chiwengo, to the neighboring villages this is seen as a private upscale gated community, home of the first President’s family. The electricity is very infrequent and the water comes on for an hour at 2am every morning. Thus last night, me and two other girls found ourselves dripping water down the halls between the bathroom and kitchen – a ritual which the whole house will hopefully learn to enjoy!

The orphans in the homes here are beautiful – between teaching, helping them get ready for school, and playing sports we find ourselves privileged to live among them. My favorite is story time and good night hugs – there is no feeling like being hugged by 50 children before going to bed.

Mice Season

Now guys, I have seen many a strange hunting seasons coming from the bayous of Louisiana but this out ranks all of what I have seen…..mice season!?!

Seriously, the maiz fields have been harvested and now they are being burned – when they are burned the mice run from their holes into strategically placed nets. The outcome is incredible; there are mice kabobs by the bundle on every street corner for sale. I have almost barfed multiple times just looking at them!

Five days into it and almost everyone has arrived – there are tons of new faces, Chichewa greetings to be memorized and names to be learned. Electricity has gone off and on a few times, praise God I have only had one cold shower so far!

We visited a village church on Sunday, which was unlike any church welcome I have ever received. (the people greeted us all by dancing around us and shaking our hands) and then on the way out we shook hands with each of them.

I leave with my team for Chiwengo on Wednesday which is when we actually begin living within the orphan’s homes – I probably won’t have much email from then on but will try to keep my blog updated as regularly as possible.

Spurgeon said,"God is too good to be unkind and He is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace His hand, we must trust His heart."

Lilongwe....

Well we just took a long drive through the village to buy coal - the children was surrounding me as we bargained (when I say we I mean the driver!) they were so precious and I could not understand a word they said, my closest exchange was giving a bottle cap to a 6 yr. old child who was collecting them - he might be my boyfriend now, I wouldn't even know!)

As we drove out of the city, the sun setting on all of the women carrying baskets and wood on their heads. Babies carried on the backs of babies was a sobering sight, but all so beautiful and in a weird way I feel at home here. Wzamba, they call me, which means foreigner but for me, I feel known....I actually feel more safe in the village than I do at the base with our staff.

I will write as much as I can now but once I am in Chiwengo I will not have internet, please just pray for me as I am excited but my heart doesn't feel fully with me...please pray that I will leave in peace, fully surrendered.

Malawi Arrival

All is well, I arrived in Lilongwe last night and with fingers crossed I tell you that jetlag has not been bad at all! 3 flights and one marvelous day in London I arrive in Malawi read for a full day and then slept like a little baby!

I will only be here in Lilongwe for 6 days, my team of girls fly in today, pray as the final count is 15 – we leave for the village in a week. Pray for good bonding and grace as there is a lot to prepare! Other than the children in the village, I have yet to see the orphans and my heart is about to burst knowing they are so near but not in my arms!

Oh, what else!?! I don’t even know! I am having culture shock as too how nice everything is, but soon in the village, me and my bucket baths will be thankful for warm showers. It is very cold here, so pray for that we all stay warm and no one gets sick.

Internet will be harder than I thought so please know that I will try my best to communicate but it may be extremely difficult!

All my love!

Taking steps

The neighborhood kids were playing soccer in the road when I turned into the driveway. I changed my shoes and went outside to play. I noticed they couldn't tell today was my last day of classes and minus two exams I am a graduate….of my Masters. I went for a walk by "the lake" as I call it, I walked around and around it thinking about the last two years of school.

Our professor had let us out of class early this evening and like someone pulling off a bandage quickly, I felt the sting of it all being over. I am supposed to be excited, but this ending has been hard. Things in life are starting to cost more than they did before. I wonder if my title means anything of what I deem worth.

I think about my life, the Africa orphans, I think about the friends and family who have died, I think about saving lives versus saving hearts versus saving souls, I think about what I do each day that matters at all…I think a lot. I ponder jumping into the lake with all my clothes on, because maybe that will mark today different than all others. I contemplating crawling through the drainage pipe because I have never done it before, and I want to live daring.

Instead, I sit and I am still and I watch the water ripple. I think about the quote I read today and I wonder if I could possibly live this way, never actually graduating just taking the next step……


People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and sincere, people may deceive you.
Be honest and sincere anyway.
What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.
Create anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness some may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today will often be forgotten.
Do good anyway.
Give the best you have, it will never be enough.
Give your best anyway.
In the final analysis, it is between you and God.
It was never between you and them anyway.

--On the wall of Mother Theresa's home for children in Calcutta

Getting Ready for Africa

It is a month out before leaving for Africa. I am tying up loose ends on the East Coast and preparing to be away for 5 months. In two weeks, I will graduate with my Masters in Counseling from Reformed Theological Seminary.

I will keep this blog updated throughout my trip overseas. Please feel free to contact me by responding to this blog or emailing me at christyav@hotmail.com

In Africa, I will be working with an organization called Children of the Nations - I will live with 15-20 other American girls a village working with orphans.

Please pray for me! Stay tuned for an exciting adventure!