A Funny Story--posted by Kristin

This semester Aaron has started attending a local nursery school. It's run by some Catholic nuns and most young children in our neighborhood attend school there. It's called "Saint Vincent de Paul" and it's about 100 yards from our gate. There are several great things about Aaron going to school there. It gives us some common ground with our neighbors, he's friends with neighborhood children (I'm telling you, he's our best missionary--everyone around here knows Aaron), and best of all--he's learning to speak Kinyarwandan! A teammate's 3 year old daughter also attends school there, so he started out with a friend.

Most of the teachers there speak some English, so even though communication is difficult, it's not impossible. That being said, here's the scenario from Friday:

The phone rings. It's the Headmistress. This is already cause for concern...

Nun: Aaron must come to get his cart.

Me: His what?

Nun: His card. He wanted it very much and we told him he could have it after school.

Me (now really confused): His card?

Nun: Yes, yes. He cried for it. He must come now if he wants it.

Me: Ok, I will send him.

It was hot that day, and I had already had my second shower of the day, so I sent Madelyn up the hill with Aaron. (maybe my first mistake?) It was his birthday, so I was guessing it was:

A. A card they made

B. A cart, like a toy?

Wrong!...

It was a cat.

A kitten to be exact.

You didn't know "cat" was pronounced "cart," did you?

Longing for Home

Sometimes I have such an intense longing for home.

It's not usually for anything in particular (except you, Mom :-), but it's usually for the "ease" of life in America. Fast food (just 'cause it's fast), the convenience of stores that have what I need, knowing where to go to get what I need, a paved road to get there, and the list goes on.

...A longing for the familiar.

...A longing for where I fit in.

...A longing for a place where I am understood.

...A longing for a place where I understand.

But...

THIS is how I should be longing for Heaven!

Oh my.

I realize I must reverse my thoughts. When I long for America now, I wonder about Heaven. I think about how much better Heaven will be than Tyler. (Is it possible? Surely there will be Andy's Frozen Custard in Heaven.) Not only are Heaven's streets paved, they are paved with gold! I won't have to go searching for what I need, BECAUSE I WON'T NEED ANYTHING! Forget "fast food"... how about "instant feast?!" And the list goes on...

A longing for the familiar... so many familiar faces I can't wait to see in Heaven.

A longing for where I fit in... where else but Heaven will I fit in with the One who created me.

A longing for a place where I am understood... in Heaven not only my language will be understood, but my heart will be understood.

A longing for a place where I understand... in Heaven I will understand the hearts and language of others.

My prayer today is that my heart will long for my home in Heaven more than any other place.

Psalm 42:1-2 "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God?"

Psalm 84:1-2 "How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty! My soul yearns, even faints, for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living God."

Phil. 3:20 "But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ..."

John 15:19b "As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world..."

And I couldn't finish up without a reference to "This world is not my home, I'm just a'passin through, my treasures are layed up somewhere beyond the blue, the angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymore!"

Just stamp my passport with a "Visitors Visa,"

Kristin

Running in Rwanda

Brian has been after me for months to post something to the blog. So. Here it is. The first post from Kristin.

I recently posted this "note" on FaceBook so I thought I would re-post it here in case you missed it.

I've had many unusual experiences while running in Rwanda.
This morning's, though, was the most interesting by far.

Commonly children run along behind me, or out onto the dirt road to greet me, and I've even had a woman run with me in her skirt and pumps so she could talk to me and practice her English. (so much for my speed)

This morning 5 boys around 8-10 years old started running along behind me. Sometimes young men run when they see me, but that's so they can make fun of me and mimic me. These younger boys just thought it would be fun to run with the crazy white lady. Well, I thought, I might as well MAKE it fun! So I ran "serpentine" (with them following), I ran around a mud puddle...and then ran around it again--they just followed right along! I threw my arms out and skidded to a stop and yelled "Hagarara!" (Stop!) They looked at me with startled eyes and I yelled "Genda!" (Go!) and went tearing off down the road. They caught on to THAT game immediately, and had the random adults along the road laughing. We even ran up a driveway and shook hands with a woman and told her "Mwaramutse" (Good morning).

I told my "followers" I would see them on Monday. What do you think--there'll be at least 10 boys next time? :-)

I must update here and tell you that I started running at 5:30am so I haven't been back to see my "followers." I'm sure the next time I run at 9am they'll all be there to greet me.