Waking up this morning I had the first sensation of something I haven’t felt for a long time: coolness. Not as in personality (definitely not something I am lacking in) but in terms of the weather. It has been ridiculously warm and moist every day up until this morning so it was quite refreshing to want to stay under the covers! I enjoyed breakfast and hung around the flat a little while longer than usual to make sure my body was fully ready for the day. (American stomachs don’t always work as well in a Nigerian setting we’ve all discovered...) Morning devotions were over by the time I arrived at the Clinic but I got to the pharmacy before it opened and had a good chat with Grace about her upcoming wedding before we needed to get going. It was a great morning of counting vitamins, organizing and storing new shipments, and spending time with my friends. Tima is coming along with her Spanish phrases, Matthew and I discussed world politics, and Isaiah accused me of forgetting to take a break between tasks. To make sure that I don’t work like a machine all the time I was given a homemade doughnut (not as sweet as an American, but probably not as fatty either) and watched an old episode of 7th Heaven with Mama and Tima that was on TV. Nigerians have a different sense of prioritizing what needs to get done--spending quality time with the people you work with is first on the list. I am convinced that everyone should work for a Nigerian at some point in their life!
I walked back for lunch and met up with Adrie who has been getting tons of pages filled in The Book. Jon and Kristen joined us shortly and as we started to eat we heard the rain begin to fall. We didn’t think much of it until poor Biana sloshed inside with soaked-through sandals and dripping wet clothes. When Greg goes out of town we realize how sometimes it is much more reasonable to have a driver. Full of Baba’s cooking and changed into dry warmer clothes we decided to wait until the rain eased up a bit before heading back to Faith Alive. Jon and Kristen were able to lead prayer meeting today and it was such a blessing. Reading through Luke where Jesus takes the time to wash his disciples feet the Draskovics felt led to do the same for the staff they work with. The two stooped low with their buckets of water as people would come forward to let their feet be bathed and their heart be humbled. It was a beautiful reminder of how much God loves us. Such a simple statement, but one that I feel is often forgotten. It was a very quiet time of thanksgiving as each person in the room took the time to really dwell on what it is that Christ did and is doing for each individual that has walked this earth. I was glad to be able to find time to sit with my Baba and realize that sometimes my gratitude and love doesn’t need to try to be formulated into words. He always understands me. The Mamas and Papas of the staff joined around Jon and Kristen to pray for them as we closed our time together, followed by a procession of staff members back into the world a little closer to realizing what love really looks like.
We stayed at the Clinic a little longer but decided to leave before the rain hit hard again. Adrie and I stopped by the Sewing School where our Nigerian outfits hung pressed and ready to be worn. We each got two beautiful ensembles, one for warmer weather and one for cooler, and tried them on once we got home. My pattern reminds me of those tesselations you have to use in elementary school math and looks surprisingly nice on a long flowing skirt and ruffled top with matching headband. I feel even more Nigerian now that I can look the role! Dinner came soon after we got back and we finished the evening with Baba’s warm fruit cobbler (bananas, papaya, pineapple, and watermelon!) and got the laughing sillies while sharing more family stories. It is amazing to realize the amount of embarrassing things you find about yourself that your parents contributed to. I think I am finally at the point where I realize the endless amount of thanks Dad and Uncle Norm deserve for taking three crazy kids to Montana and back, cleaning up vomit and spilled capri suns in multiple states. We all hope to raise our kids like our parents raised us: with a whole lot of love and very little room for living down a story.
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