Sweet Reminders

Living away from home means discovering cravings for seemingly random things that you never think twice about when you are actually there visiting.  For example this Christmas, I was really missing my family.  I've had many Christmases away from home, but this one just felt different.  So when a friend asked what they could put in a special Christmas parcel for me, one thing came to mind almost immediately...

Now, I often ask for different gummy candies that I miss... things like Twizzlers -- original only, I'm a candy purist and Peach Rings -- the closest thing to a Haribo Pietzsche that can be gotten.  But this year, I had only one real gummy craving and it wasn't even something I ate often when I lived there.

Today I opened up a bag of memories disguised as Brach's Orange Slices.  These orange gumdrop type candies shaped like segments of orange are worth way more than the buck 99 dropped at the local grocery store.  Even just the look of them sets my mind spinning with thoughts of my family.  These were my father's favorite candy and he seemed to always have a bag sitting next to the driver's seat in his car, little sugary crystals sliding out of the bag with every turn.  Even though he's gone, I still always associate this candy with him.

And then there's the cake... particularly at Christmas time, there is only one cake my sister always begs (and I mean begs!) my mum to make.  My mum's variation on Southern Living's recipe of an Orange Slice Cake much like this one makes for a costly treat and so it's not one she makes often, but when we ask, er... I mean, beg, my mum will surely make it, and it's always amazing.  I can't think of this candy without seeing the interplay between my mum and sis, and of course smelling the spices from the cake as it bakes.

While I don't have any sentimental ties between my brothers and this candy, as we only met in adulthood, even now typing this a new connection is being made.  Because now in my life, when I think of family, these two brothers instantly pop into my mind and I long to see them just as badly.  So as I eat these little sweet bites, I'll also think of them.  They do afterall live in Florida, home of the best oranges.

So thank you, friend, for giving me a sweet reminder of my family to start off this new year.  And to my family... I love you.

A Chorus of Glory

My most recent post, Why We Remember, while dedicated to the memory of 9/11, brought Christian perspective to the general importance of rembrance.  

Remembrance gives purpose. Remembrance brings gratitude.  

Remembrance strengthens community.  Remembrance provides perspective.  

Remembrance reignites hope 

in what God will bring us through today and forever... 

because He is faithful.

Today, I was reading this post by my friend Bonnie over at Faith Barista; it is a tribute to a dying friend through whom a song of joy still rings clear, a song that will resound long after death because of the work of God in her.  In this story, I heard a familiar melody and her name was Sweet Michelle.  In her brief four months, she taught me how to fight for life and reminded me of the Kingdom for which we are made and in which we are called to live now.  Today I remember her, and it reignites my hope, because it brings me back to Him, the One who brings us through... the One who really is faithful. 

Let us not take this life for granted and let us live every breath in worship of our loving God, letting the songs of our lives resonate even now, a chorus of His glory.

Should you want to know more, the following are excerpts from my newsletters sent in 2006, sharing the story of Michelle Amani.  Much has been edited out for length and sensitivity.

January
It was the 4th of October, when a 16 year-old Ugandan gave birth to a premature girl. Weighing only 1.47 kilos, the baby was left to fend for itself when the mother made a prompt exit from the hospital.  The social worker at Mulago hospital handed her to me, saying she needed a name for their records.  “Abandoned Baby Girl” was renamed Michelle for my sister.

Sweet Michelle, as I call her, is the color of brown sugar, not like the light sandy grains at home, rather the dark, syrupy crystals we import here from Kenya. She fits perfectly cradled in my arm, allowing her to pull her right arm out over top of the blanket, rolling her palm into a small fist.  She draws it up to rest under her chin, pursing her lips as she dreams.  Already a diva, she pushes out her upper lip in a reverse pout as she opens her eyes, expecting attention.  The workers insist on keeping her dressed in pink for her namesake, and just like my big sis, she loves both to sleep and get her own way.

The boy who had come to us with Michelle that day had died from his conditions.  It was only a few days after burying him, that our nurse came upstairs, flustered and shaking.  “Holly, your sister is sick.”

Tests revealed that she is HIV Reactive, with hepatitis, a bacterial infection, anemia, etc.

Hours can pass so quickly when just holding her, praying for her, loving her. You want no moment to be wasted. Mom, was this what you felt when you held my sick infant body for so long? Yet I am alive, healthy and strong. I have to believe the same for my sister, this child who like so many of our others will carry with her the name of our orphanage on her paperwork, on her history. In that gesture alone she has written into her identity the Swahili meaning of Amani, peace, and the Lugandan, power.

She looks boldly into my face when I hold her, black eyes locked to my brown, like she knows something we’ve forgotten.

February
When Sweet Michelle would look at me so boldly, I think I know what made her stare unwaveringly.  Michelle was only four months old but was born with a knowledge not gained through years on this earth, rather it is a knowledge often dimmed by our time in this place.

While I was away for the weekend, I got the text that she had fallen sick and lost a kilo in the course of one night. With almost half of her body weight gone and all that history of illness, I knew it was desperate. I loved her and she had been showing such progress.

I held her tiny frame from early morning until late evening Monday. Tuesday she went to Kampala. She died with all the symptoms of Stage 4 AIDS on Wednesday, January 25th.

We never know what all God is doing when our prayers for healing are answered in different ways, but we have to trust Him. You see, we can get too accustomed to our lives.

Michelle knew we were not made for the things of this earth, but for the Kingdom of God. I think she knew this in her spirit as we are all born with a longing for God.  Her story reminds us that this is all just a beginning. That alone makes it a story of hope, in spite of sadness.

It's the Little Things

 

Strawberries are my favorite fruit.  Springtime in Tulsa is the best for strawberries in my opinion.  You can find them in huge amounts, the fresh sweet smell drawing you to a display marked clearly with low prices.  I love it.  I went for three years without strawberries when I lived in Uganda, as the few visits home to T-town were off season.  Since moving to Ireland, those strawberries are more available, but they definitely come at a price.  I am currently growing my own in a pot on the balcony.  But today, I ate a load of these fresh American strawberries in my morning oatmeal.  It's one of the little things I love about being back home.

That's right.  I am in Tulsa.  It has been a year since this bit of middle America has been pounded by my flip-flop wearing feet.  I am here for a short visit with the fam, enjoying the celebration that has drawn me here... my mum is getting married!  And I am enjoying the little things that could easily get taken for granted, did I not live elsewhere - things I love, like family and strawberries.  And... driving big cars at fast speeds on wide roads, unlimited hot water that comes out with extreme pressure, petting my Daisy-doo who still remembers me even though this little dog is getting so much older, eating Taco Bueno, and hearing the constant sound of aircraft flying above that has become a distinctive part of the Tulsa background.  So T-town, thanks for the warm welcome.  It's good to be back.

Confessions and Friends

I'll be honest, I started getting more intentional with my blog a few months back partially because I wanted an opportunity to get some new Christian books for our fellowship through some blogging for books programs.  We just don't have access to such things here, unless we are ordering from the UK, and let's be real... books can be pricey.

I also had been trying for some time to better communicate this life to folk back home who have invested so much of themselves in this journey through prayers, support and encouragement.  This would give me a chance to share my heart, from trials and triumphs to humorous moments and even just things I enjoy.  I hoped they could be encouraged in return, and I refuse to write with any less investment.

I didn't know what an amazing community I would find in the process.  God calls us to fellowship.  I am so blessed to have found so many other believers who are just trying to live their lives as honestly and faithfully as possible.  People like Heather over at Pieces of Me, who serves as a constant encouragement as she continues to declare Christ as her hope, despite the bitter challenges of life.  She is admirable, and she is real.  She also caught me off guard this week when she passed along the Stylish Blogger Award to me. 

Rules for accepting this award are as follows:

-- Thank & Link back to the person who awarded you.  
-- Share 7 things about yourself.   
-- Pay it forward to 10 recently discovered great bloggers.  
-- Contact the bloggers to tell them of their award.

 

SO... Seven Things:

1.  Although I don't have it every day, black coffee is my comfort food.

2.  Despite the fact that I prefer home-made goods and usually make everything from scratch, my favorite dessert is box-mix brownie.  I've yet to find a recipe that can duplicate them, and they are rare overseas.

3.  I really love nature and think a house without either live plants or a pet is a silent cry for help.

4.  I love engineering television shows and figuring out how things fit together and work, which is probably also why I like puzzles and detective shows.

5.  I think Calder's Flamingo in Chicago is inspired genius in a world full of really lousy municipal art.

6.  I love surprises and unexpected guests.

7.  I  had trouble thinking of what to share so I took most of these from the 25 Things list I did on Facebook a couple years ago.

Of course if you'd like to know more, ask.  Leave a comment or drop me an email.

I find that the blogs I am most drawn to are those that are written by people who are just trying to be real.  I recognize the risk of being so vulnerable, especially in such a public forum.  Some of these people I know outside of cyberspace, others have become friends through this blog process, and others are still new to me, but all of them amaze me for their transparency.  Regardless of any distance the internet can create, these people are true to their personalities and their faith as they share their lives for the world to see.  That's what I call stylish! 

 

Geidlbots: Tales of German Robots Living in America

Honduras Gumbo 2 

I'm Steele Standing

The Journey 

The Magoo's News

My Thought-filled Journey

Notes from the Laundry Pile

Red Letter Believers

Single Revelations

The Way Fam

Whether they are able to participate in this award doesn't really matter to me.  I just want to give them some acknowledgment for the inspiration they are to me.  Thanks Heather, for including me in this.  God bless.