See Something More

When I sit down to write about once every four or five days, I usually try to think of something that has happened or something that I have learned recently. In that same spirit this morning, let me give you a report on what I have been doing the last few days. Oh wait, pretty much nothing. The national curfew is from 7pm - 8am until further notice, but the mission overseeing me right now has requested that we stay indoors at all times unless absolutely necessary. Everything is closed; most every event is cancelled. The most exciting thing that happens each day is when a random plane flies overhead and everybody runs outside to see what it is because the airport is closed. It's usually some small plane bringing in another president or leader to help negotiate terms. Just in case you didn't know, Burkina Faso had a coup d'état that started last Wednesday, so today marks day 7 and I'm still alive, just going a little stir crazy.  People have been talking about eva...

It was a perfect afternoon for ice cream, so I picked up one friend and was on my way to pick up another when we got a phone call. "There's something going on in town. I think you better turn around and come back," my friend's father explained to me on the telephone. All he knew was that the presidential army had surrounded the building  where the president, prime minster, and many others were meeting for a cabinet meeting on this perfectly pleasant afternoon. With only one month left until elections are scheduled to take place, and one year after the long standing president was expelled from office in October 2014, something like this was heating up anyway.  Respecting his authority, yet not yet fully understanding the severity of the situation, we grudgingly turned around and went back. "Is it sad that I'm more diasppointed about not getting ice cream than the fact that a political crisis could be happening?" I asked. And we laughed.  But a...

"How long have you been in Burkina?" A new friend asked me today after I just met her. I quickly did the math and realized that today, the 16th of September, marked a special day. "Nine months today!" I exclaimed.  In honor of nine months in Burkina Faso, I want to write a special tribute to a God who is doing amazing things over here. Normally, I use this blog to write a little story or personal anecdote, but God has been up to some big things in the past few weeks, and today I can hardly contain my excitement to share with you a much larger picture.  I think most of you who read my blog know me personally. You keep in touch with me. You support me. You pray for me. Therefore, I tell you these things to invite you to pray even more, support even more, keep in touch even more, and glorify God with me as he builds his kingdom in Burkina Faso.  Around two years ago, our team received a gift of a piece of land up on a hill overlooking our city. This lan...

"Is that him?" Suzanne asked me as she stared out the passenger's window and we approached a man standing beside the red dirt road. "Surely not," I commented when I saw his shoes. They were women's snow boots with bright pink laces. Straight from America's finest secondhand shops, I'm sure, only they never sold in America so they made it all the way over here. Yet there he was, standing on the side of the road exactly where we thought he would be, and he walked towards our car and waved us down. "Yep, that's him, I guess." Suzanne and I were on our way out to a village where we have met a family in great need. The mother died spontaneously four years ago in the middle of their fields. No one knows what happened or why. She was pregnant with their fifth child. The father, Julian, did his best to take care of the children, but it became increasingly difficult three years ago when he fell suddenly blind and unable to work. Arou...

I heard a plane fly overhead and stopped to look at my watch. 9:51 PM. Her flight was scheduled to leave as 9:45, so I was thankful to know everything was on time so far. Bye, Emily, I said to myself, and I realized a whole new season had just begun.  When I finished language school in May and moved to the field, our first group of visitors had already arrived. Since then, a steady stream of families, teams, and interns have occupied my time and my ministry for the last three months. Now, with Emily's departure, the season of visitors ended, and I let out a big breath of thankfulness mixed with nervousness. Thankfulness because God blessed me week after week with strength to lead and help the teams who came. Nervousness because now that visitors aren't here, I didn't know what to do. The took up all my time, and now they're gone. Their presence filled a void, but their absense left one, too.  I prayed, What will this new season bring? Now it is time to be the ...

Just as all the kids gathered to take a group picture at the end of kids' club, I saw Robert walk through the gate. I saw his face fall when he realized it was over and he had missed the whole thing.  My face fell, too, because I realized I had forgotten to remind him.  Robert and his brother, Jacob, are the older brothers of baby Namwin Bonna Youor (God Knows Her Name), who have been living next door to us for a little while before returning home to their isolated village. I go over there every day to check on the baby and give her medicine, and I always try to talk to Robert and Jacob, too. They absolutely love to come to kids' club (it might even be the highlight of their week according to how they act), so I always try to invite them and remind them each Thursday  to come. But his week, I forgot. And Robert didn't show up until the very end.  Feeling a little guilty and wanting to make it up to them by giving them some special attention, I hau...

She hobbled over towards me with a beaming smile on her face and a sparkle in her eyes. Two things that I hadn't seen in her the night before. The previous evening, she waited outside our gate as the sun was setting. She was so sick that I was afraid she wasn't going to be able to walk home. She only lives a few houses down the road, and we met her through the children in her courtyard that come to our kids' club each Thursday. Her name is Gertrude. She said she had suffered from severe diarrhea for five days, and it looked like she didn't have an ounce of water left in her body. Her eyes were sunken, and she hardly had the energy to breathe. I wanted to send her to the hospital, but I feared she would not get the help she needed. The hospital is staffed poorly at night, and often people who come at night often do not get seen until the next morning. In that moment, I wanted so badly to have my own clinic, where I could give her a bed, some IV fluids, and oxygen...