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.