departing thoughts

I am not an island. I was hardwired for relationships. I was built to love and be loved. I was created for intimacy. I never knew that as much as I do right now.

This past year has been one that's reinforced that truth in my heart. I've lived in Africa for ten years, and most of that time all of my close friends lived an ocean away. This past year I was spoiled to have a few at arm's length (on both sides of the ocean).

In some ways I think I was better off not knowing what I've been missing out on all these years. But at the same time, I can't imagine how hollow I'd be without all the experiences of the past twelve months. Even with the sadness of their endings, I wouldn't trade those times with friends for anything in the world. I am a better person as a result of them. I needed to know---really know---that it's okay for me to need people and to desire connectedness. I think, on some level, I thought it was wrong. Or not for me. Or something I had to sacrifice in order to be a missionary.

But now I know the truth. And my life is richer for it, with all its joys and heartaches.

And now, as I sit in an airport having just said goodbye again, my heart feels swollen. And I wonder if this is what people with hearts that are too large for their chests feel like.

a special moment

Peaberry's umbilical cord fell off ... on my watch!

It was 2 AM---I was taking "first shift" with the baby. I squealed with glee when I opened her up for a change, and out fell her cord. Amy was hoping it would happen with me instead of her (since it grosses her out). And we both were hoping it would happen sooner rather than later (it seemed to be taking forever!).

I figured the moment was photo-worthy, since Mom was missing it.

And while I knew Amy was skeeved out by it, I didn't think I should make the official decision to throw the cord out. So I put it in a snack-sized ziplock bag and left it on the counter! Amy quickly pitched it in the morning.

Good thing pictures last forever...

tot time

I'm with Silas and still-pregnant Amy at Tot Time at a local rec center. The gymnasium is filled with toys; Silas loves to come here. One wall is lined with bleachers where moms set up camp to watch their kiddos play. Diaper bags, purses, strollers, and shoes litter the rows of bleachers. While Silas is having a good ol' time out on the gym floor, Amy and I are chatting it up on the sidelines (with watchful eyes, of course).

Something in the far corner of the gym catches our eye. An older woman---whom we shall call Fiona---enters alone; she brings no kids, only herself, to Tot Time. Fiona sets up a boombox, flips through a notebook, and stretches out her arms and legs. She hits play on her stereo and cranks up the volume; we can hear the rhythmic music loud and clear on our side of the gym.

Fiona begins an intensive aerobic workout. She's got a whole routine, complete with claps, spins, and stomps. We can't help but stare, and we definitely can't help but laugh. We look down the row of bleachers; most of the other moms are watching and giggling too.

With the change of each song, Fiona turns to a new page in her notebook. Suddenly she is doing belly-dancing moves. We double over with painful laughter.

We just can't imagine why Fiona chose to use the Tot Time gym for her ostentatious workout. "This is a blog post waiting to be written," Amy says with a laugh. "I wish I had my camera!" I reply. Then I remember that I have a camera phone. Of course it has only minimal zoom...

I'm gonna have to get pretty close if I want a decent picture. So I'm off... And I'm on a mission.

Needing a decoy, I say to Silas, "Wanna go bounce that big green ball with Aunt Lizzy?" Of course he does. He heads across the gym, me close behind with my phone in my back pocket. I bounce the big ball; Silas chases after it and bounces it back. We inch closer to Fiona.

I'm only a few feet away. Fiona is facing the wall, with her back toward me. She starts shaking her butt as if she's Beyoncé. I about pee my pants with laughter. I look back to the bleachers to see Amy wiping tears from her eyes. SNAP. I take a picture. I'm laughing so hard, it comes out blurry. SNAP. I take another.

Silas and I keep playing with the big ball, carefully staying in Fiona's quadrant. In an attempt to roll the ball to me, Silas accidentally sends it right toward Fiona. I run after it, looking up at her as I go. Still facing the wall, Fiona spreads her arms out at her sides, leans slowly forward and backward, and shakes her boobs.

The ball rolls right into her leg and she turns around and faces me. Busted! I think. "Sorry about that," is what actually comes out of my mouth.

I look down at Silas, who'd also run forward to catch the ball. He stops two feet away from Fiona, looking up at her. He sways and moves his arms. "Dancing," he says. "That's right," she replies. "You can dance with me if you'd like." Silas stands right next to her and together they get their groove on.

If I weren't hunched over laughing, that picture would be worth a million bucks.

I look back at Amy again; the bleachers are shaking because she's laughing so hard.

Just as quickly, Silas loses interest and runs over to me. Fiona doesn't skip a beat; she jumps right back into her routine. I put up my hand as Silas approaches, and he gives me a high-five.

I get the feeling that he was in on this mission of mine all along...

flying colors

We're staying in Middle-of-Nowhere, Missouri with Granny and G-Daddy. (Note: Their names have not been changed to protect their privacy.) G-Daddy seems to have been testing me since I arrived. The biggest test just got placed in front of me. "Wanna go for a ride?" he asks. A few days ago he told me all aout his motorcycle. When he asked if I'd like to ride with him sometime, I said I'd never been on one before and it seemed a little scary to me. "Oh it's not scary at all," he assured me. "So I just hold onto you or what?" I asked. "Nope. You're not allowed to hold on." My eyes bulged and I started to laugh. Certainly he's kidding... Amid some joking and swift topic-changing, the conversation dissolved.

And now here I am, in the final part of the test to determine whether or not G-Daddy adopts me into the family. (Figurativey speaking, of course.) A quick glance over at Dave and Amy reveals huge smiles and nods. "Do it," Kitty whispers.

I look back up at G-Daddy. "Sure. Let me go grab my sneakers."

Minutes later I am standing outside by his monstrosity of a bike, donned in a leather jacket, black helmet, and bug-deflecting goggles. As I climb onto the bike, G-Daddy whispers, "You can hold onto me if you feel you need to." But I'm determined not to hold on. Not even as we pull away.

We're off, wind in our faces. G-Daddy waves at every car we pass; he honks at a field of cows. We cross the swollen Mississippi into Slightly-Bigger-Than-Middle-of-Nowhere, Illinois. Destination: Wal-Mart. (Can you believe we have to drive to another state to get there?) Distance: 50 minutes. (Am I the only one who thinks of distance in terms of minutes rather than miles?  )

"You doing okay back there?" G-Daddy shouts back at me. "Yeah, this is great." "You're not scared are you?" "Nope. You can feel free to open 'er up!" He starts laughing. "Open her up? We're doing 90!" I smile. I know I've passed the test.

My eyes tear up as we pass the first Starbucks I've seen in days. It was just because of the wind though, I swear.

Errand completed, we head back. He cranks up the music. "Is that too loud for you?" "Nope. I like it. Fast and loud: That's how I ride." He laughs really hard. So do I.

I do the YMCA on the back of the bike when the song comes on. I discover that potholes really hurt on a motorcycle. The fields sparkle with lightning bugs; I keep my mouth shut to avoid eating them.

As we come to a stop back at the house, my face feels oddly plastered back from all the wind. I'm proud of myself for not holding on at all. 'Twas a good ride.

We walk into the house. G-Daddy quickly tells everyone about me asking him to "open her up" and my announcement of "how I ride". I smile and laugh.

I passed with flying colors...

adventures in iowa

This was my first evacuation. Iowa City has had record-breaking floods this week. The day before Kitty and Baby Alece were released from the hospital, the water reached the street their house is on. We knew it was time to leave.

Dave packed up all the valuables and essentials from the house (including all my stuff, bless his heart!) and drove me and Silas two hours away to stay with some friends in Missouri. He turned around and headed back toward the flood waters of Iowa City to spend the night in the hospital with Amy and Junior. They were released yesterday and drove here to join us.

Every time we hear the news or see pictures of the devastation, we're flooded (pun intended) with gratefulness that we left when we did.

We are all safe and healthy; Mom and Baby are doing wonderfully well. I don't have real access to the internet here, so I'm going to continue to be AWOL for a while. I'd appreciate your prayers. No... not for my internet withdrawals, but for everyone affected by the flood, for us to be able to return home soon, and for minimal damage to the Rieps' home.

Thanks, blog family...