Sugar is a funny thing here. Sometimes when you buy it; it’s white, sometimes it’s yellow and many times there are ants in it. Sometimes it’s small granules and sometimes larger granules. I’m thankful for sugar and when I hear stories from those who’ve lived here much longer than us talk about how in the past the only sugar available was cubes and it was necessary to crush the cubes for baking, it makes me realize how fortunate we are to have granulated sugar available to us. Today while making a cake for a friend’s birthday, I found something new in the sugar – rocks! I laughed when I found it and started talking to myself out loud in a Viking type voice, “So, what’s in your sugar?” like the credit card commercials.
Pot of Gold
The other day when I was leaving for work my neighbor was washing her dishes oblivious to the fact that there was a rainbow behind her. I snapped a quick picture with my phone and thought that wow she totally is missing that there is a rainbow behind her. It made me reflect on what other things am I oblivious to that are right above my head. Sometimes I get so focused on the brick walls that are making daily work challenging, or on what is right in front of me that I don’t take time for others.
Where is the real pot of gold?
I’m pretty sure it’s not the dishwater with all the dishes that my neighbor was washing.
Worry Wart
I think the majority of Mom’s are worry warts. I’m definitely a worry wart, however, the things I worry about have changed by leaps and bounds than what they used to be.
One of my continuing worries has been if we are damaging the boys or setting them up for future troubles by living outside our passport country. I know in my head that when God calls a family he calls the whole family and that’s His design, however, there are times that it’s hard to take it from head knowledge to heart knowledge.
There are many times I feel guilty as a Mom because the boys can’t be with relatives. I feel guilty not being in a place where the boys can compete in any sport or music or whatever of their choosing. I feel guilty that they don’t have any idea of what is “in” compared to their friends from their passport country. I feel guilty that we are rootless and they won’t have a house to return to in adulthood and see all the mementos left behind from years of living in that house. The list goes on.
Then, the boys do things that make me see how fortunate they are. They know how small the world really is, they have friends from five continents. They know geography from living there or traveling through places around the world. They have seen true poverty. They are color blind and just see people. They can hear and distinguish many languages. They have seen vehicles packed beyond their limits and play with their cars stacking things on top.
Tribute
This is a tribute to my husband, David, a.k.a, Honey. At a Love and Respect conference five years ago, there was a section of the speaking that really stuck with me. Here it is, would I want my future daughter-in-law to speak to my son the way I speak to my husband? There are times I don’t think about that and speak anyway, but thankfully David is quick to forgive.
When we met David was a funny, carefree guy serving in the USAF. He didn’t have a serious bone in his body. Sometimes it was frustrating when trying to have a serious conversation, however, also a great relief when I was angry and he could make me change from anger to laughter in a blink of an eye. Even in the midst of his non-seriousness, he had incredible work ethic. He comes from a long line of workaholics and follows suit. There have been many times over our 14 years of marriage that his workaholic tendencies have been a point of tension, however, at the same time I’ve never worried if our family would be taken care of because I know if we don’t have a penny to our name, he would work three jobs filling the full 24 hours in a day just to provide for us. I’m thankful he listens to the Lord’s leading for our family and stays confident in the Lord’s faithfulness to provide for us.
He has been in many men’s Bible studies over the years and I remember his time in Men’s Fraternity by Robert Lewis. He keeps the bullet points in his head at all times and uses it as a measuring stick in his daily work. Reject Passivity, Accept Responsibility, Lead Courageously and Invest Eternally. David is an authentic man whom I respect immensely. He leads courageously amongst much criticism (anyone in a leadership position gets criticized). He accepts great loads of responsibility – he doesn’t complain (although I complain about his loads of responsibility). He rejects passivity and makes the unpopular, hard decisions. He also steps up to the plate to confront huge tasks that I think most would cower from. He is investing eternally through his work, through ministry and through daily life.
I’m respectfully his wife, a.k.a. Sweetie.
End of the range drama
In March , I blogged about a new range. For three months I cooked with a range that didn’t have a temperature knob for the oven. I used an oven thermometer, however, the biggest problem was that the oven cycles throughout cooking. It would cycle from 350 F to 450 F during any cooking process. It didn’t matter where I placed the knob with the two pictures, it cycled and I burnt the majority of things I cooked.
For those of you who know me, cooking is a big deal to me, plus I must cook much more here than in the States. Needless to say, I was very frustrated!
There is a family who’ve served in Yaoundé for several years and they are leaving for a Stateside assignment. They were selling all their belongings, including a range. I really wanted their range, but how could we spend more money on another range? I felt so guilty and like a spoiled child even thinking about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. After much discussion and finding a buyer for our range, we purchased the range from the family.
I’m happy, happy, happy with the new range. It’s BIG. The oven’s here are European models that only have one oven rack and are normally quite small. The European makers, make ovens wider rather than two oven racks for cooks who want more oven space. So this oven is a full 36″ wide. For the first time in four years, I can now cook two homemade pizzas at the same time or two sheets of cookies at the same time or two of whatever at the same time. Plus, it has an accurate temperature knob. For the first time in several months, I didn’t burn my granola and have been enjoying eating toasted granola in the morning, rather than, burnt granola.
Tropical Lollipop
The boys see so many sights as we drive around Yaoundé and in our little neighborhood (we call it our cul-de-sac).
They’ve seen people sucking on sugar cane. Joshua likes to know what things are, but doesn’t feel the need to try whatever it is. Jonah on the other hand, likes to try it.
Our guard, Christian, was sucking on sugar cane and Jonah couldn’t contain himself to ask if he could try it. Christian cut a piece for him.
Tents, Faith and Scripture Memorization
Joshua’s last assignment in Bible class was memorizing Psalm 91 (all of it) which he has now hidden in his heart. I’ve shared in the past how verses from this chapter have provided comfort for me and I enjoyed hearing him repeat this Psalm. And while it’s not always easy to see what faith looks like I came across these pictures I took in Kuwait in 1998 and wanted to post them for the daily WordPress Prompt.
If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
and you make the Most High your dwelling,
no harm will overtake you,
no disaster will come near your tent. (Psalm 91:9-10 NIV)
Who needs a bomb shelter when you have the LORD!
Bel-Air
On the front outside wall that surrounds our house, our guard clipped the vine like bushes that cover the wall and painted Wellcome to Bel-Air. He was very proud of his painting. He was quite proud that he wrote in English. I didn’t point out that Wellcome was misspelled and tried to be as friendly as possible, instead of sharing how we don’t care for graffiti. The whole thing made me think of a 1980’s television show I used to watch Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Below is my version of the opening song by Will Smith.
Now this is the story all about how
Our lives got flipped, turned upside down
And I’d like to take a minute just blog right here
I’ll tell you how we began to live in the house tagged Bel-Air
In P Hill, Missouri where we were comfortable
Chasing our dreams and thinking we were able
Chilling out, maxing, relaxing all cool
And sending our kids to a wonderful school
When David saw Wycliffe via C.F.C.
Started looking at their site and knew we needed to see
If God wanted us to sell it all
To obey His call
We needed to approach the decision with care
Sure enough God called us to Cameroon where we live in the house tagged Bel-Air
We spent a full year trying to learn French
We thought with God on our side it would be a cinch
We realized learning it quickly would be rare
Now we live in the house tagged Bel-Air
We hired a man to be our guard
One day he found a paint can, brush and a surface that’s hard
We knew we were supposed to be there
That’s how we started to live in a home tagged Bel-Air
(hopefully as you read this post the song Fresh Prince of Bel-Air was playing in your mind)
Got Meat?
I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, I’m thankful for my upbringing because I can look back and see it was preparation for living here.
Growing up in a rural community with both sets of grandparents being farmers, I (DeAnna) was exposed to farm life, livestock and seed to plate gardening. I thought it was fun when grandma would break the neck of the chicken and it would chase me around the yard until it fell over. Although I usually do my meat shopping at a meat counter in a grocery store (it’s worth the extra cost in my opinion), it doesn’t bother me to see meat vendors outdoors selling their meat. I’m used to men walking towards me holding a live chicken by the feet in both hands asking which one I would want and how I would like it cleaned. I know to look for beef that has the most flies on it (if the flies don’t want it, you don’t want it!). I’m appreciative of my time in 4-H and being with Sherri showing steer than after the sale, looking at the carcass at a slaughter house. I’m glad I know the parts of an animal to know how I would like it cut or cleaned.
Last Day of School
Today was the last day of school. The boys were more than ready to be done with school. Last summer I started our homeschooling in June so we could get the curriculum covered between surgeries, traveling and visits. The boys had been “in school” for a full year.
There was a closing program for the students to present different things to the parent body.
Joshua’s class recited poems and each student received a character award. Joshua received the cleaner award and was presented with powdered AJAX cleaner because he’s constantly offering to help his teacher any way he can, even with cleaning the room.
Jonah is homeschooled, so he didn’t present anything or receive an award in front of a crowd, however, he has been part of a music club and the music club performed at the program. He was thrilled since he loves to perform.
While watching the boys I couldn’t stop thinking about how much they have grown and changed. Seeing Jonah standing in front, playing his recorder my mind went back to one year ago. One year ago at the end of school program, I had to give Jonah pain medicine so he could go. He begged to go, but was in so much pain. He stood in front of the parent body with his gauze wrapped hand, trying to put on a cheerful face when he was in pain and wearing down quickly. I remember during that program counting down the days, hours and minutes until we left Cameroon to return to the USA.
This year, I felt my eyes welling up with tears, but tears of joy as Jonah played his recorder. He holds his differently than the other children due to his amputation and it was a reminder watching him that he does have an amputation, but also how much he has overcome. Jonah asked me to present him with a character award. I give him the award of perseverance. He has humbled me with how he has persevered through some of the hardest circumstances.










