Smart

"Who is the smartest person you know?"

"Well, Jesus."

"Ok, well, besides Jesus."

Halfway around a little bistro table, Jack cocks his head. His elbows propped on the thumbnail-sized table, he leans a tiny bit and cobbles drinks and colored pencils. "Well Daddy IS really smart," he recovers, eyebrows arced over blue irises.

I ignore the clanked pencils still all corralled on the table. "Is he the smartest person you know?"

He pokes at the colors. Their enamel surfaces chink against each other. "I know who Logan and Thad think is the smartest person," he says. "Their dad."

He jaunts around the table, lucent green in hand, and sits down back at my elbow. "Maybe everyone thinks their dad is the smartest," I say.

He swishes green onto the bristol paper. "Yeah," he says. "'Cause their like, 'My dad is the smartest. He's an engineer, and he fixed the dishwasher.' And I'm like, 'No, My dad is.'"

"I thought your Daddy fixed the dishwasher."

He polishes the viridian on in bumpy strokes. "Their dad did too."

"Oh. Well, I guess fixing the dishwasher is a Dad job." He doesn't look up, just scritch-scratches more teal green out on the paper.

Still I weave the strands. We practices the moves. He orders his own caramel steamer, thanks the baristas, clears the table, throws away trash. He tells me who the smartest person in the world is. I watch a small masculine seed burgeon and grow, germinate, sprout.

Confidence and affection, I note his unfettered stride.





Gratitude:

4238. Jane tries to teach Myra how to throw a football. "Myra's sort of wearing off the smiles," she says.

4239. Jane confesses: she was up until 11:20pm reading.

4240. "One of the reasons that I like to read," she says, "is I think about the book and let it roll over my mind and think, Is it good or bad, and then I go to bed."

4241. The Tuesday Girls eat sweet potato soup, Irish tea, and chocolate at mom's.

4242. I discover the fast way to hard boil eggs: in muffin tins.

4243. "Dat is Jesus," Myra points to a red dot she drew. "I doo-ed a lot of those," she says.

4244. "Why you want Jane and Jack to work hard?" she asks. "Everyone's supposed to work hard," I tell her. "Do you?" She shakes her head, "No. Daddy doo-ed that for me."

4245. A friend and her one-year-old boy come over. The afternoon blustery and gray, we make a splendid walk to the park. We linger in conversation.

4246. Dad and Mom come for dinner. Cherry-pecan-feta salad carries the night.

4247. "I like cinnamon sugar," Myra says. "It gets on your mouf -- all the way on your cheeks." She holds up the remains of cinnamon sugar toast.

4248. Jane makes eggs for lunch. Everyone helps.

4249. We acquire more bookshelves for our library.

4250. We wade through more ancient myths. "This one's not really REAL," Lucy says, "'cause it started with ONCE UPON A TIME."

4251. I show Jack how to make up his own sheet of math computation. "Where you gonna be most of the time?" he asks, notebook under arm, "'cause I'm gonna be wherever you are doing math problems."

4252. Myra sees one of the hens relieve herself. "The chicken pooped on her fedder," she frowns. "I know, isn't that sad?" I say. "That's not SAD," Lucy pipes up, "It's not DEAD. That'd be WAY sadder."

4253. "When I was five I went to Jesus' house," Myra brags. She turns three in May.

4254. I start a sock monster.

4255. We make the semi-annual visit to a dentist we love.

4256. New shorts. I have a new pair of shorts for summer.

4257. I ask Jack who in the Bible really honored God. "Noah," he says, "because he gave God whatever he wanted. And Moses because he obeyed God in basically everything he said."

4258. "What do you think is the best age?" I ask him. "Forty," he says, "'cause Miss Lynne says it is."

4259. "What do you think is going to happen in the world?" I continue. "I hope something good," Jack remarks.

4260. And finally, "What do you think is the most important thing to teach in school?" I say. "Probably," he responds, "love your enemies."

4261. The whole clan gathers for another wrestling match weekend.

4262. Craig's mom takes Jane on a date. "Gramma teaches me to be generous," she says. "That was a fun time. It was spectacular. It's just so fun being with her."

4263. I putter around the kitchen. Jane traipses in. "I guess you didn't see this," she says and points to a scrap of brown paper bag hung on the fridge with a magnet. Please come have a party outside with us.

4264. We pray before bed and Jack closes, "And Jesus, thank-you that we don't live in a country where they burn up all the Bibles. Amen."

4265. We celebrate Andrew turning 10. Orange party streamers and balloons, family gathered, it's perfect.

4266. Jack bobbles into Myra. "OWIE," she protests. "Oh, are you ok?" he stops and gives her full attention. "Yeah," she quells and points to the owie, "KISS it."

Daddy

"Can you carry me upstairs?" Jack pulls Daddy's elbow.

Daddy gathers him up all lanky limbs and wiggles. "Yeah, I can carry you upstairs because I am a big strong man like you," he says.

Little boy smiles, lays a cheek on Daddy's chest. "Well," the boy says, "I'm only half a big strong man right now," and he rides Daddy's arms to the top.

A Father's Love

"Da-da," she says, "I'm all done. I want OUT."

So, he scoops up. Strong arms carry her down the stream and home.




***

A Man

First, they pull the grass. Daddy chops off long sideways roots of quack grass that reach into the garden. The children trail behind and gather armloads of clumpy sod, pile it in the wheelbarrow.

Jane pokes a fresh clump with her toe, "I think I need a MAN'S help." She looks around, and then gives the clod a little kick.

Daddy hacks another clean swipe at the garden's edge. He pauses, "Hey Jack, anytime someone says they need a MAN'S help, you should help them right away."

"Oh. Okay." He grabs Janie's clod and tosses it into the wheelbarrow. Jane grins.

Off to the left, another clump of grass, "I think I need a MAN," she looks around for Jack, "because I don't want to bend down and pick that up." She tries not to smile and raises her eyebrows. He slogs it into the wheelbarrow.






At the end of the garden they race back to Daddy. He saws open bags of coffee grounds and scatters long black stripes over the dirt. They wriggle their toes in it.

As daylight wanes we gather garden trowels and buckets, a pair of old blue gloves, and go inside. Jane pauses at the door, "Jack, I think I need a MAN. Will you close the door after Lulie comes in?"

"Yeah, I will." With a sideways grin he turns to wait for little sis, that same long-suffering streak of his father a badge of honor.

Daddy

Daddy makes everything all better.

10 Years, My Honey

Ten years ago today. That's when Craig started courting me. Cold and icy and December wind, it was a day like today. He said he'd have none of this dating business. Dating is for the birds. Could he please court me, he asked.






Court. It seems strange now, we spent that whole time, days, weeks, a couple of months, not so much as a kiss. Just miles and miles of words, jokes and questions, belly laughs and stolen glances. We ate at Perkins, had "our" table. We knew the servers names.





On his birthday he asked me to marry him, held my hand and lassoed the moon. Held my hand, a first. And asked my daddy.





It doesn't take so long to plan a wedding. Don't we just buy a dress and get a church, I asked? It was all so simple, like how we hiked up a waterfall one afternoon just for the fun of it. Our faces wet, the view stretching on and out a million miles, simple.





And all along, he held my hand. Here and there at first. Then lots. Encyclopedias of conversation, atlases of adventure, and he held my hand.

A kiss and a wedding. Three kids, four. Ten years. I couldn't be a richer woman.

Day Four

"GLORY to GOD. GLOOOORRRY to GOD. GLORY to GOD in the HIGHEST!" It's a shouting match in the sun-room. The piano thunders with small fists pounding out fits of enthusiasm. Jack's voice echos a half-second behind Jane's, and Lulu is screaming. Day four of Daddy's backpacking trip and the glory's getting quite stout around here. As it erupts down the hall and across my bed covers, I sigh. Morning light pools on the floor. It's one of those moments where staring far off into space never felt so good.

Barbarian husband is off fighting the whiles of mountain trails, rugged peaks, hiking on past the pit-bottom of exhaustion. Surviving on the land (and dehydrated food), a communion of man-ness happens. It's the antithesis of our safe life. The antidote. How is it that danger nourishes the heart of a man? And glory the heart of a child. Who knew I would tend such rare commodities .

Got Your Back

It was a scritchy-scratchy, thistle of a morning.

"Momma, you just said that you don't like Daddy's sense of humor." Her eyebrows are arched. I can hear it without even turning around. "Is that really what you want to say." The frame freezes. I see a smile tease at the corner of Daddy's mouth. "How would you like it if someone said that to you?"

I sigh.

The apology was spectacular. Daddy said he thought we'd entered a parallel universe. Don't ya wish you could grab on to that apology so fast every time!?

Huckleberry Finn

Children, meet your father, Huckleberry Finn.

























He cut the pole from a tree and dug the worms.


















So, I guess that make me, Mark Twain...?


















Hold on, let me thread this worm... don't pull yet.


























Wait for it... Wait for it...

























Wait for it... NOW!


















It a lunker.


















That was so easy I can do it too, Daddy... you just hold the pole.

























Let's give it a good YANK.

























I knew we could snag one!


















Guess the rest of the fish are safe for now.

:)

Anniversary

So today marks a nine year anniversary. Nine years ago I married this man (the one on the right). Here he is in Africa, handsome from half around the world.

Africa. The whole thing reminds me of an IQ test we took years ago. Craig beat my score. An unfortunate and decisive victory. {Sigh} It's laughable now, a couple of measly points and I did the only logical thing a smart girl does. I FREAKED. For those of you who know him, Craig wins at EVERYTHING. He's amazing. :) Think we're competitive? Let's just say we even have blood pressure competitions seeing who can score the lowest blood pressure at the grocery store pharmacy. (Try it, just thinking about it will raise your blood pressure.)

So anyway, I moped around for a few days until finally a very sweet sister-in-law asked, "Do you want your husband LESS intelligent than you?" Haha, touche'. No wonder it is a delight to banter with this guy still nine years later. He keeps me guessing. And who can put a score on irrepressible optimism. Pure gold.

Africa? That was an outrageous idea. Crazy. Out of the question. Worse than an IQ test, another worthy freak out topic. And still I hear my brother's voice, "Well, what kind of a man do you want Jack to be seeing?" And imitating. A fearless one. Honorable and fearless.

The kids still talk on Africa. Yesterday, driving in the heat their giggles weave into the roar of wind blowing through the windows. Through the white noise Jack's voice surfaces, "But, WHY did Daddy go to Africa?" His voice hangs in the air.

Janie takes the reigns, "Because GOD told him to go to Africa!"

What a gift. He went because God told him to. It's as normal as water. God TOLD him to. How inadequate I feel. Or blessed. Spoiled.

Janie's chest swells with a smile. "'Cause God told him to!"

HOME

So he stepped off the plane whole and handsome.

And HOME.































































































































































































More to come.

Love you ALL.

~Bethany

Almost HOME

Moments ago Craig boarded another plane headed back to Nairobi. Now just more planes, airports, layovers, little baggies of salted peanuts, packets of oyster crackers, luggage, funny shaped neck pillows, hopefully no more blown hatches, and the man I love will be ... HOME! It still feels sort of pretend -- like a well drilled in an African village far, far away where there they don't have running water and all the while my own children wage water-war in our green yard with water cannons and a bucket.

















Before I know it Craig will be here and I'll face a man gone half around the world and come home. Can't be the same one who left. So begins the next leg of our journey, "Hi, I'm Bethany, who have you become? Tell me everything the same and different so I can love you all the more." How frequently the best things in life are the impossible combination of letting go and hanging on. I don't know weather to laugh or hold my breath.

To all of you, thanks. Thanks for being a hand to hold down the path of this journey. A listening ear, fresh encouragement, fun, {Grin} you've been FABULOUS! Wish I could HUG you all. Please pray for traveling mercies as the team heads home. They sure could do without the 17 EXTRA hours of travel they ended up with on the way there. :)

WATER!

A note from Craig:


Water!

We pulled into the village today and witnessed the drill rig SPEWING forth WATER! As they drill, water is forced out in a GEYSER like process every 3-5 minutes. Less consistent than Old Faithful but much more moving. Some of the mommas from the village said it best, "Praise God, Hallelujah." They are limited in their English but captured the moment perfectly. The drill rig hit water at about 97 meters, and the original goal was 100.

They are cleaning out the hole and preparing to put in the pipe. The estimates on the water are around 8 gal/minute which may seem low for American standards but when the alternative is walking 30 minutes or more to get water from a murky pond, 8 is great! They will be running tests on the water and finishing the pump which could take as long as a month but maybe sooner. We visited with the people in the village and took some pictures of the water shooting out of the drill rig. Joe blessed the well and we loaded in the vans to go.

It really is interesting how little we understand about dirt roads any more, we made it about 10 meters down the trail before we were STUCK. This is after they had delivered a load of large rocks to help us. After getting unstuck and another attempt, we decided to take a different TRAIL. I say trail because they don't really have vehicles passing on through on any sort of consistent basis. We drove down the path, past the murky pond and the "health clinic" to the road. We made it!!! Once back on the road (still dirt but dry) we were fine making it to Kisumu for lunch and our flight to Nairobi.

The airport was an experience. They don't allow you into the airport until 2 hours prior to your flight. There is a nice park like setting just outside the security area that is equipped with chairs tables and shade. We had 3 hours until our flight so we read, wrote in our journals and some even took short naps. A couple of people in our group actually needed to use the bathroom (which is inside) and the heightened level of security/metal detector was unmanned so they just walked in and used the bathroom. We entered later and heard the metal detector go off and the security person just let them PASS on by. After we checked in with the ticket agent (which is past security) we proceeded to a waiting area which is between the "terminal" and the runway. Finally, when we boarded our plane I was lucky enough to procure the emergency exit row, window seat (extra leg room).

The stewardess came to our row and did the usual, "Are you able to man the exit in case it is needed?"

"Yes."

She looked directly at me, "Can you pull that down?" the EMERGENCY handle.

"This?" I reached out to touch the handle.

"Yes, can you pull that down?"

I took this as a question like, "Sir, can you put your tray in the upright and locked position?" SO I PULLED the handle. And BLEW the HATCH!

In retrospect I think she just wanted to know if I felt comfortable being the designated hatch-puller IF needed. I re-latched the handle. She double checked it, and we had a rather uneventful flight to Nairobi.

Today, May 26, we are heading to the Masai Mara, a national reserve, where we will be for the next three days. 6+ hours travel, then we will stay 2 nights and return on Thursday. Fly out Friday and arrive back on Saturday. The time has flown, pray for safety in travels the next few days.

Love you all,
Craig


*****


When I told Janie she prayed, "Dear Jesus, thank-you, thank-you, THANK-YOU that they were able to drill 100m and find water. And I just pray you would keep the water clean."

She later added, "Now at least they have a good idea of what they can do to bad guys."

"Oh, what's that?"

"Give THEM the BAD water."


Life is so SIMPLE when you are a little more than four-and-a-half but not quite five.

83 Meters To Go!

Sometimes I think prayer should be more like this.


"Okay, Momma," she's on tip-toe bobbing from foot to foot, "I'm gonna go for a run now. Get ready, I'm gonna run by again!" All polka-dots and swishing skirt, she half skips like a penny gliding over the water. Zing. Sploosh. A bucket of love runs over.

*****

Here's a note from Craig that you may know how to pray.

• Speaking went well; I talked about the need to be ready to bear witness. Then I walked through my testimony and then the Roman's road. It went well. Today was Colt speaking at the boy’s high school and he had a good message. There were about 700+ boys there. After a short tour, we went to an all girl’s school. Maybe one of the best parts of the trip. There were about 850 girls and they were singing when we came in. WOW! Singing praise songs and they were almost deafening. It was amazing and moving. They sang a total of 4-5 songs while we were there. We introduced ourselves and after we were introduced, they went wild cheering. When the next person would stand and they would go silent again... 850 girls singing in complete unison and stopping together instantly. It was amazing! We leave for the village at 7am tomorrow and then back to Kisumu to catch a flight at 6 back to Nairobi. The well drilling has started and on Saturday they reached 47 meters and we are shooting for 130 meters... it would be amazing if we could hit water tomorrow while we are there. PRAY!

*****

As I write Craig and the team are on a long and treacherous road back to Kasumu. It's crazy to picture him bumping down that road in a bus full of people for 10 hours. If there is another thunderstorm as there are most afternoons the road becomes a veritable landslide...

Love you all, and thank-you again for your prayers and support. I don't know what I would do without you!

Are We There Yet?

Daddy sure leaves a BIG hole.

Feels like forever until he comes home and then Jane says something like, "Momma, why does your face look all golden, all, all pretty?" A little manna from heaven, that girl is.

{Sigh.} How many more days?