Jul 4, 2011 | An Expat, Stories
Perhaps for the last time for a while, I’m spending this fourth of July away from the USA. {My Dad and I were trying to remember last night when last I spent one in the USA!} This is my second Fourth in good ol’ South Africa. (I can’t remember how many I spent in Scotland.)
Now. In case Geography isn’t your strong suit, South Africa is in the southern hemisphere.
And in case Weather and Climate aren’t up there too high on your skills list either, that means it’s winter here.
And in case you just don’t know, just because we’re in Africa doesn’t mean it’s always hot.
The Free State (the province where Bloemfontein proudly presides) is known for its cold winters. It’s on the “high veld” at a high altitude {Goo-Goo says 5-odd-thousand feet}. On a high note, the highs can reach the teens on winter days (50s and 60s Fahrenheit). On a low note, the nights tend to below f-f-f-freezing.
Meaning: It could snow. On the fourth of July. What?
{Our flags, flying in Hermanus: South Africa, America, and the UK — but we’d prefer the Scottish flag! Can you believe the Bear has a passport for each?}
So I’m celebrating this F-F-F-Fourth of July by honouring the memory of the Boston Tea Party. A hot cup of non-British tea (or six) is warming me up today, and mayhaps I’ll switch over to coffee as often as is reasonable.
Next year I’m having an extra hot dog. Blackened on the grill. With ketchup instead of tomato sauce.
In other news, I only briefly braved a glimpse at these here internets last night to let you know we’d safely arrived in Bloem. I want to more thoroughly report that the trip was fantastic. On our first day of travel we took off at about half past ten in the morning and arrived at our first destination around six in the evening, and the boys handled the travelling beautifully.
The Tank snoozed and played in his little car seat and chose very convenient times to be hungry or to need a change. The Bear enjoyed colouring in a specially-chosen-for-this-trip colouring book (about Pirates) and enjoyed stickering in a specially-chosen-for-this-trip sticker book about trains. Arrrrggggh and choo-choo! And he took a lekker nap in the afternoon.
With the presence of road works delays and the fact that we had to get back in the car, day two was a little tougher. We nevertheless persevered, taking off early and arriving comfortably in Bloem in the mid-afternoon. And e’erbody said Amen.
Thank you for your prayers. HH and I marvelled on more than one occasion at how smoothly things have gone this past week. A week ago we were packing suitcases and selling most of our stuff and trying to decide what to send to the States and tying up a dozen other loose ends. Now here we are, safely a thousand kilometres away with the logistical challenges (and some hard goodbyes) behind us, and two months of recovery and peaceful days (and then some transition!) ahead of us.
The Bear has asked a couple more times about going home and sleeping in his own bed, but he is handling things very, very well. We believe in the power of prayer, and during this season, as we were sometimes too exhausted to pray much, we’re so thankful for friends bring requests before the throne of our behalf.
What a good God we have, Who decided at the beginning we’d be able to speak to Him on behalf of one another.
And for the freedom we enjoy to exercise that gift from heaven as and how we choose, with gratefulness I wish my fellow Americans a Happy Fourth of July. And I wish my dear British friends a Happy Rebellion Day. {Call it what you will, I’m pleased with the outcome. 😉 } And to everybody else, Happy Monday!
xCC
Jul 1, 2011 | Stories, The Parenthood
Although yesterday was was a little on the hectic side, we made it through a crazy morning of last minute errands, the new folks arriving to move in promptly at nine a.m., me discovering a gabillion things I forgot to make a plan about…and the Hubs having to pack and repack Mr. Potato Head to fit everything in. (With the Bear balancing something on his head.)
HH was almost close to throwing one box in the trash without even checking to see what was inside. Good thing he didn’t — there was half a bag of Ghiradelli (too tired to check on how to spell that, forgive me magical chocolate people) dark chocolate chips, the prescriptions he’d just paid about 50 bucks (US!) for, the stuff that he makes our morning lattes with, and coffee grounds, and a bunch of other important stuff inside. Shew, that was a close one.
We are now safely in lovely Hermanus, having spent the night with some dear friends after getting away from Gordon’s Bay after lunch yesterday.
Last night as we lay the Bear down in the bed we eventually ended up all sharing for the evening (because the Bear kept falling off the mattress on the floor!) he said he wanted to go sleep in his bed at home.
It made my heart sore a little.
The four of us were together on the bed, and the Hubs said “Home is right here. Wherever we are, altogether, that’s home. We’re home.”
Sometimes it feels like home in Gordon’s Bay was where we became a family. But I trust that family can be home for a while.
Tomorrow we’ll take off for Bloemfontein and hopefully it will be a relaxed two-day journey getting us there on Sunday evening.
I’m hoping for some peaceful car time with both boys sleeping so that I can write my way through the whirlwind of emotions that was this past week. What do you think my chances are?
Thanks for your prayers, friends. I think the hard part’s over, even though this adventure is just beginning.
xCC
Jun 18, 2011 | Stories, The Good Word
I‘m not sure whether the mountain to molehill series is finished yet (I don’t think so) but I’d like to interrupt for a moment to share a special post with you. It meant so much to the Hubs that he read it to me whilst a bit teary-eyed.
Whether you’ve been following the mountains to molehills or not, whether you think I’m making hype out of coincidence or not, you can’t deny the reality of the beauty that came from what this gentleman walked through and how he chose to let it change his life for the better.
So please check this story out.
Hope you’re enjoying your weekend!
xCC
Jun 18, 2011 | Stories, The Good Word
This week I’ve been sharing just some of the stories of how the epic uphills we’ve been facing over the past several weeks have turned into smooth paths for us to walk along through this transitional phase of our lives. {It started here if you need to back up.} Recently, it has repeatedly felt as if we were facing mountains, figuratively speaking, but they’ve become molehills right before our eyes.
The things that have happened have been an incredible encouragement for more than just the sum total of what was accomplished in the change. We are very thankful to have saved that month of rent, to have found tenants for our place, to have been blessed with a financial gift that makes this season a lot less stressful, to know that we have a free place to stay back in NC, for a spousal visa for the Hubs, and even to have something as simple as a debit card dilemma solved — and all of this while we felt like we got to sit back and watch the story unfold right before our eyes.
Pass the popcorn.
But along with the glorious goodness of things coming together in a beautiful way, I’ve been especially encouraged by these things as a collective confirmation that we are walking in the will of God. As we’ve seen Him make a way where there seemed to be no other way, we’ve sighed a sigh of relief, secure that we are walking in His will.
You see, when we first left the winding cobbled streets of Auld Reekie (Edinburgh, to the layperson among ye) we came to South Africa with the impression that we’d be here at least three or four years. Indeed, we wanted to spend at least that amount of time here…to spend more time with family here, and because we wanted to serve in a place where poverty is very real and very hard.
{And, if I open the honesty box a moment, I’ll admit I feel guilty for leaving. It was only a few days ago that I realised this. I’m struggling with guilt — and working my way through it — but that’s a story for another post.}
But in His glorious goodness, the Lord has made His will abundantly clear, both months ago when we were prayerfully considering this decision, and now in the present tense, as we are walking it out. And more than I want the ends to meet at the end of the month, more than I want to know we’ve got a place to stay, and more than I want a secure debit card to access funds, I want the Lord. I want His will. I want to know that I’m walking in His will.
In this season, while things have felt a little upside down, and I’ve found myself halfway around the neighbourhood before realising my shirt was on backwards, and we’ve had so much going on that I occasionally can’t remember when last I washed my hair or what day of the week it is, God has met me in these tangible ways to give me a greater gift than a place to live or a big check:
He’s given me peace.
My life keeps singing this song over and over again.
And these words are an echoing refrain:
You will keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on You,
because he trusts in You. {Isaiah 26:3}
The Sermon in a Nutshell: Whatever the mountain you’re facing today, I believe in a God who can make it a molehill. In perfect timing, with perfect peace. Are you willing to let Him direct the symphony of your life?
xCC
Jun 17, 2011 | Stories, The Good Word
Care to start this one from the top? Click here.
It was about a week and a half before the Hubs’ spousal visa interview when he came downstairs to share a very important discovery. (The offices of Samaritan’s Feet South Africa are presently located upstairs, in our home, in case you’re wondering why he keeps coming downstairs with important discoveries.)
We’d received our income information for tax purposes (we have an extra 60 days to file taxes since we live abroad…nanny nanny boo boo) and he was gathering the last few documents to bring to his interview. Based on what he was reading, and based on what we’d cleared in 2010, there was good news and bad news.
You want the bad first, right?
Basically, we didn’t make enough money in 2010 to prove that I can support my alien husband in case he becomes a lazy bum and wants to live off the government. And you actually do need to prove that in order for a spousal visa to be granted. So basically, no matter what else we had in our corner, if we couldn’t prove that I could support our family of four above the poverty line deemed by the United States government, the spousal visa just. weren’t. happenin’. And once we got the numbers, we couldn’t prove that I could be Hero Hubs’ SugarMama. Sigh.
The good news? Another possibility was that we could ask a relative already in the states to co-sponsor on the Hubs’ behalf. So, if he went the lazy bum route and started collecting checks from Uncle Sam, they’d come after me to foot the bills, and then they’d come after Relative #2 to make up the shortfall.
The mountain: we needed a relative to agree, and we had a very limited amount of time to get this paperwork together. We needed signed documents and tax returns from Relative #2 well before the Hubs hopped on a plane to Joburg for his interview, basically about a week’s turnaround.
First, we purposefully decided not to freak out. Then, we called my Mom and Dad to see if they wanted to see their grandchildren again. ha! My Mom was the first to answer, and after we explained the situation, she simply replied, “Alright, just tell me what I need to do.”
Have I told you lately how great my Mama is?
It was probably around three in the afternoon when we called her, but being the organized former school teacher that she is, she was able to put her hands on all the necessary documents, print out and sign the forms we emailed her, and get everything to Fed Ex before five that day. Helps to live in a small town, ya know?
Even with one of May’s many National South African holidays falling on that Monday, we still had the paperwork in plenty of time for HH’s interview the following Thursday (or, more important, before his flight on the Wednesday!)
And, as you might already know, while we’d heard horror stories about trips to the US Embassy for these interviews, and I was preparing myself for a potential delay, or worse, the Hubs gracefully skated through the interview process over the course of a single afternoon. Double H on Ice…it was a once in a lifetime performance.
So there you have it. Another mountain laid flat…another molehill gracefully arabesqued over. The Lord made the lift, the Hubs made the jump. I think he even pointed his toes.
Thankful doesn’t begin to describe the relief we felt when we rounded this corner, nearly four years in the making. And the decision to trust and not freak out? Good one.
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. {Ephesians 3:20 – 21}
More to come…
xCC
The Conclusion of this Series {perhaps appropriately termed the Epilogue} Is Right Here.
Jun 16, 2011 | Stories, The Good Word
If you’re just joining us, well, where ya been? I’m kidding. But here’s an introduction to this series of posts, where I’ve been sharing about how God has been encouraging us through this monumental transcontinental transition.
So. HH’s folks came to visit for a couple of weeks in late May/early June. We had a wonderful time together, and this visit was even more special because Auntie Lyn came down from Jozi for a few days, too! While Lyn was here we decided to adventure to a little lunchy spot (HH most certainly took photos for you, which I will share next Travellin’ Tues!) for a nice family outing with the Bear and the Tank in tow.
Along the way, we stopped for diesel and the Hubs scooted to the ATM to draw some cash. Unfortunately, Mr. ATM didn’t want to cooperate. “Account access denied” or some other equally cryptic message was all Mr. ATM had to offer us. Whereas Mr. T would’ve at least said, “I pity the fool.” Alas.
After our lunchy outing we returned home to get to the bottom of the matter. After a conversation or three with my bank back in the States, we could only uncover the explanation that my debit card had been “compromised” and so they’d cancelled the card. It seemed a little odd; we hadn’t used it to purchase anything online recently, and the examples they gave of reasons why this hypothetically could happen brought less and less clarity as to why it did happen.
I need to digress with some backstoryage to bring all this together. Our ministry is made possible, as many of you are aware, by a number of generous partners in different parts of the world, but predominantly in the US. Most of our paycheck gets paid to us in an American bank account, and thanks to a global ATM alliance between a particular group of banks, we withdraw funds as needed to cover our expenses here in South Africa, free of charge.
That lil’ debit card is the pretty important puzzle piece that connects paycheck over ‘dere (as the Bear would say) with groceries over here. And just a few weeks before this compromise we’d noticed that it was going to expire in July — my Mom actually noticed because the new card came in the mail to my permanent address in the US.
We were umming and ahhing about whether to send the new card in the mail — which felt a little risky 1) because it’s a debit card and 2) because sometimes the South African postal service makes us a little nervous and 3) it could get lost and then we wouldn’t have one and who knows how long it would take for them to send another and this is how we get to eat! We were waiting to find out if my brother would be coming to visit in July, because my Mom could send it to him, and then he could bring it along, but we don’t know for sure if he’s going to be able to visit.
Okay, so where were we? Oh yeah. We were on the phone with the bank, trying to explain the predicament we were in with our debit card being “compromised” and then cancelled without warning. They spoke to me as if I’d been out of the States for just a few months and somebody lectured me about the importance of carrying travellers cheques. I decided to just smile and agree.
You’re right! I’m a cotton-headed ninnymuggins.
We followed a rabbit trail of phone calls which included speaking to someone whom I think was speaking English, but the accent was so confusing even I couldn’t understand it. {I’ve spent a lot of time with a lot of non-native speakers of English, so that was kind of surprising.} Eventually a gal with a broad and happy yankee voice was at the other end of the line and I was greeted with such delightfully warm service I was proud to be an American.
She transferred me to a department that could help in such situations but stayed on the line with me while the problem was resolved, and resolved it was. Eventually the travellers cheques guy and the yankee decided to Fed Ex a replacement card to us international priority, and they were able to open up the old card for an hour for the hubs to go out and make a withdrawal before they closed it again. And, they gave us a number to call if we needed the old card temporarily opened again!
The most amazing part was that they didn’t charge us to send the new card to us — and we recently discovered that Fed Exing something international priority is about $100 to $150 worth of priceyness. Our soon-to-expire debit card dilemma was solved, and, once again, I can’t think of a way it could’ve worked out better.
Unless they deposited an extra 500 bucks before sending it.
Or mailed it with a jar of Nutella.
And some Oreos, and a Macbook Air, just as a goodwill gesture.
It was a beautiful reminder that God is intimately acquainted even with the small details of our lives — there is no mountain to high, or too low, to bring to Him.
xCC
P.S. Although I haven’t written tomorrow’s post yet, I’m pretty sure the story’s not finished! {True Story. Here’s Part Five.}
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