THE AWKWARD MOM

because uncomfortable conversations are the ones worth having

Tag: Africa (page 3 of 4)

The stories He writes

Reading Time: 3 minutes

the stories he writes

It’s strange being back here, in this place.

I can still see the Nile directly out the window, though my husband and I actually stayed in the banda next door that night. They still leave in triplicate the same brand of packaged soap in the bathroom. I remember how the Nile had stretched before us in the morning, pink sunlight pooling on its surface while men fished from canoes hollowed from logs. On the banks, monkeys leapt like kamikazes from limb to limb. The scene is the same four years later. I remember crying, weeping, actually, from this very porch that night after dark under a spangled sky. I had been so very excited; so very afraid.

Guest post: On raising our kids to crave true safety

Reading Time: < 1 minute

Happy Friday!

Excited to be contributing again on WeareTHATfamily.com–In Good Hands: Raising our kids to crave true safety. Hop on over and check it out!

6 ways to take your relationships deeper in 2016, Part I

Reading Time: 3 minutes

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

My dad, my mom jokes, has two speeds in life: full-throttle, and asleep.

I know this, because I inherited a lot of it. I am nothing if not intentional (if you’re skeptical, click the ideas page). In fact, before it was honed by some maturity and grace, I’m pretty confident I used to scare people off a bit, plunking down my lunch tray in the college cafeteria and asking people what God’s been teaching them lately. Pass the salt, would you? read more

Calling the “embassy”

Reading Time: 4 minutes

What’s better than having the embassy in your cell phone?

Citizenship to a greater city—with an even more powerful “passport” than my remarkable little navy one (uh, and its awkward little photo).

Don’t waste the waiting

Reading Time: 4 minutes

It was two years ago that our family received unsettling news that began an extended holding pattern for us, news which wouldn't be resolved for another eleven months. That period of gray, unsettled twilight will stand out in my life as one where I became well-acquainted--more than I would have wished, for sure--with the chisel of God that is waiting.

For the Days When Helping Hurts [You], Part II: When Helping Breaks Your Heart

Reading Time: 4 minutes

helping hurts

Missed part I? Get it here.

I knew last week was going to be killer. read more

A Slice of Beauty, a Slice of Thanks-living

Reading Time: 2 minutes

beauty thanksliving

“Mom! It’s the one with the crossed bill!”

I ducked my head at his urgent whisper, peering out the glass. Sure enough—an Openbill Stork. Three feet in height and layered in glossy black, this one seemed shiny enough that it might have just glided in from Murchison Bay, a handful of kilometers from our home. Weeks before, my son and I had sat quietly together, watching the same variety of stork leverage that gapped bill upon of the fist-sized snails that creep somberly across our yard. read more

28 Signs I Might Be Living Overseas

Reading Time: 2 minutes

1.  I set a goal for myself while jogging: If I can only make it to that goat.

  1. Everyone speaks more languages than I do.
  2. I have partaken of creatures I would normally not consume by choice, e.g. fish eyes, grasshoppers, and the like.
  3. People dispose of trash by simply throwing it out the window.
  4. A healthy percentage of my most delightful friends were born a hemisphere away from where I was.
  5. I avoid unfiltered water like the Plague. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve seen the Plague in there.
  6. My pothole-per-mile ratio exceeds 136:1.
  7. The concept of “home” feels bewildering.
  8. I answer to a wide variety of names that sound entirely different than the one I’ve answered to for the majority of my adult life.
  9. Fruit and other materials labeled “exotic” in my home country are available at that little wooden stand down the street.
  10. My children asked for a raise in their allowance based on the increasing value of the dollar.
  11. My electrical company is perpetually listed in my phone’s recent contacts.
  12. Sometimes home feels like camping.
  13. Despite the lack of familiarity, there is something about the place I live that makes I feel so…alive.
  14. I adopt an accent when speaking, say, at the supermarket.
  15. My suitcase is filled with odd items, like 6 of the same deodorant, 18 months of underwear for six people, eight pounds of chocolate chips, and 12 jars of B vitamins. My carry-on is where I stash the Hot Tamales and six packs of Slim Jims.
  16. People attempt to compliment me by calling me “fat”, or in regards to my status, a “big woman.” …Yeah. Thanks.
  17. Ants in my home don’t even capture my attention anymore unless in vast quantities or floating in my drink.
  18. The last trip to the States found me saying, “What in the world is ‘Apple TV’?”
  19. I are content with my “dumb” phone, because pretty much everyone else has one, and if it falls in the toilet (or pit latrine) I can afford to replace it.
  20. Cops stop me because I are more likely to be a source of cash.
  21. “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” gets me all sniffy.
  22. My bed is shrouded in netting, but somehow my arms and legs still have telltale welts of those little (literal) suckers.
  23. I keep toilet paper in my glove box. Because public toilets, when I can find them, are BYO TP.
  24. I give up asking for decaffeinated coffee, because people don’t really know what that is (or why you would drink it), nor do they have it.
  25. I can pronounce all of the ingredients in my food.
  26. I am feeling a whole lot more deft with the metric system lately.
  27. My employer contemplates sending out regular deworming reminders via e-mail.

A “Someday” in Autumn

Reading Time: 3 minutes

someday in autumn w text

Today, in heavy strokes, a pumpkin was neatly sliced in my kitchen. Thick wedges of orange lay surrendered on the countertop, awaiting steam and recipes. And that’s when I smelled it: fall. Almost as quickly as it reached my nose, memories collided with each other, awaiting their turn in my mind to display their images of careful carving, the crunch of roasted seeds, and stringy goo hanging from my fingers. It was as if I could touch the softness of my husband’s old orange sweatshirt, hear the crackle of leaves, and heft a cuddly niece onto my hip.

But also suddenly was an unexpected prick of loss. A thoughtful friend had e-mailed me earlier in the week: Thought of you last night as I made a pot of turkey chili for a ball-game watching party tonight.  Know how much you love autumn.

Your opportunity…vs. your call

Reading Time: 3 minutes

I’ve written about my overcommitment before, and the true cost to my family. But it’s challenging when it’s not a bunch of nonessentials munching at the white space on my calendar. It’s people. People with needs; pain; longings; hope.

And it was then that words from a friend drove themselves home, settling in my chest: The need does not always constitute the call.

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