We're back in Memphis. School has started again and Dan is as busy as ever taking care of our church's IT needs. Some things never change. Some things, however, do. Like our plans.

We have spent much time praying over where God wants us to go and what He wants us to do next. We expected to spend some time helping PBT get their new building finished, but after a visit to the site in Dallas we realized that God had other plans. The building was a little behind schedule at the time and they weren't ready for Dan's help. So, instead of staying in Dallas, we have settled in Memphis and Dan will travel back to Dallas to help periodically. We are grateful that God quickly provided us with a source of income and a place to stay (with friends) until we could move into an apartment. We are so excited to be back among friends and in familiar surroundings, but we frequently see evidence of the impact that our stay in Africa has had on us.

Here's one example. Recently I was walking in nearby neighborhood and got choked up. I was in tears as I walked by all the beautiful houses, many with three car garages, and realized that most of my friends in Africa lived in a space smaller than an American garage. We have so much compared to most of the people in the world. Many of them live on less than $2 compared to $100 a day average in America. Sadly, I think that many people don't realize just how fortunate we are because they've never come face to face with the reality of a third-world country. How I wish every American had the opportunity to befriend someone who lives in Africa or South America--to get to know them on a personal level. I think things would drastically change all over the world.

"Behold, children are a gift of the LORD, The fruit of the womb is a reward."
Psalm 127:3

When I met my friend Judith, an African, she was pregnant but didn't know it. Over the course of our time here I have gotten to know her and to share her life, including the ups and downs of her pregnancy. We have shopped for "maternity" clothes together (which are actually just larger dresses). We have talked about the different ways our two cultures view pregnancy and child birth. We discussed her fears and hopes as her due date drew nearer.

On July 10 at 8am Judith gave birth to a 2kg 7g baby girl (that's about 4 1/2 pounds). She sent me a text (Almost everyone in Africa has a cell phone but they rarely call out on them-too expensive. They all text.) saying she went to the hospital at 5am and then asked me to pray at 7:30. At 9:30 I got an actual phone call from her. "I have a girl," she said. She was hoping for a girl. I asked if I could come and visit and she said sure. Since we didn't have a car and I had no idea where the hospital was I called a taxi and he took us (my friend Emily and I). When we arrived we were so intent on seeing her that we didn't bother to try to read the sign on the door, which outlined visiting hours. Small oversight. Instead, we barged right in asking if we could see her. The nurses told us "no", but Judith saw us and came out with the baby. We got to see her just long enough to drop off a gift and then a very important looking man came and informed us we had to leave. Judith said she'd be home later that day (WOW) and we could come see her there.

At about 4:30 Judith and the baby went home. We arrived shortly after and stayed just long enough to take a few pictures and make sure everyone was alright. We brought some food and some gifts. But it was I who received the best gift that day. When I asked the baby's name Judith said she was waiting for me. She wanted me to name her, so that she would always remember me. I was stunned and had to try hard not to cry. What an honor. After holding her, looking at her sweet face, asking Judith if she had any preferences (she requested something that started with G because she has a son whose name starts with G), I settled on the name Grace.

Grace, in the Bible, is something we are given that we did not earn. I did nothing to deserve the honor of naming this child, but was given to me. The child was given to Judith and her husband, but neither they, nor none of the rest of us as parents, have earned the right to raise our children. We make mistakes. We don't have all the answers and we often do it wrong. We should not be trusted to mold these little people, but we are. They are given to us as gifts from the Lord, because He loves us and He is big enough to redeem any mistake we make in child rearing. Grace. I can't wait to see what God has in store for this little one.

It has been our pleasure, over the past few months, to become friends with a local woman named Judith and her family. Judith lives in a house without running water or electricity. No inside toilet. There isn't even a door on the house, just a sheet of metal covering the opening. Yet she doesn't ask for anything and always has a smile on her face and a great attitude. That makes her stand out. In this culture, unlike ours, people are very dependent on each other. Here, if you have something I need and I ask for it, you are obligated to give it to me. That makes it very hard for people to save any money. Someone always needs something. The only way to really better your circumstance is through "concrete" investments, like buildings. People will start adding on to their houses, even if they can't finish the addition, because they know if they don't use the money themselves someone else will need it. Partially built structures are everywhere. It looks like a war zone, as if the buildings have all been bombed and are in ruin. In fact, the glass is not half empty, but half full. The structures are on their way up, not down. Still, it is very different from the way I, as an American, learned to manage my resources.

To really bless someone here you cannot just give them money and think that will help. As soon as their neighbors get wind of it it will be gone. To make a difference you have to follow their rules. As I thought about Judith and what we might do for her I kept thinking...she likes to cook--to learn to make "Western: food--but she doesn't have an oven. I began to research cost effective ways to build an oven and eventually found the earthen oven. It is made from clay, sand, water and brick, all items that Judith would have, and with just a few days work could be built for next to nothing. So I started praying about it. Should we try to build her an oven? Would it be a blessing or not?

The answer: build it.

Keep reading to see how we did it...

This week we found a very tiny, very young hedgehog in our yard. It's eyes are still closed and it has no teeth. I'm guessing it's less than a week old. The boys begged to keep it, and since we couldn't find its mother, Dan and I agreed. We've spent quite a bit of time researching how to care for it. At this stage it needs milk, but it's lactose intolerant so the best choice is sheep or goat milk or maybe soy milk. The closest thing we could find was soy powder which we have been mixing with water. We also learned that you have to rub its tummy after every feeding (which we do with a small syringe) to stimulate its digestive system. It doesn't work on its own yet and the greatest danger at this stage is what's called "bloat". It's insides literally blow up. We're doing our best, but I honestly don't hold out much hope for the little guy. He's so small. Too bad though. We've all grown quite attached to him in just a few days, and him to us. He nuzzles into our hands and cries when we put him down. Really hope he makes it. Oh...and his name...Presley:)

Recently our family, with the aid of our guard/guide, hiked the mountain that we admire every day. It is situated just behind our house, literally within walking distance. We took along several PBT friends and between all of us we had quite a group...an 8 year old, a 10 year old, 2 in their 20's, 2 in their 30's, 1 in his 40's and 1 in her 50's. Of course, we all over-packed. We carried lots of water, food for lunch on the mountain, first-aid supplies, cameras, etc. I'm sure we looked ridiculous to the locals.
It was amazing to see the way the people live on the mountain - the stepped farms, the mud huts, people walking barefoot down the trails carrying heavy loads on their heads. These are some of the toughest people I've ever encountered, and the kindest. Nearly all of them stopped to greet us along the way. One man warned us that the trail ahead was muddy, worried that we would slip and fall. Children and old women were passing us left and right as we struggled to climb the steep trails. This is their home. They walk these trails every day, multiple times. They carry the food that they grow down the mountain to sell it to anyone in town who's interested. We even passed by the little village where the men who come to our gate live and saw one of them outside relaxing. He recognized us, smiled and waved. 
I thought we were seasoned hikers, but this was a very difficult hike. The trails were often little more than a trench dug out by water running down the mountain. The foliage was very dense. The trails were incredibly steep. These people don't waste time taking the easy route; they go via the most direct one which is usually straight up. I was exhausted by the time we made it to the waterfall and stopped to eat. But after some food and a rest we were all ready to make our way home. I was so proud of our children. They didn't slow us down a bit. In fact, if anyone slowed us down...it was me