I just wanted you to know I’m alive. In case you were wondering.

My heart is heavy, my mind is swirling, my stomach hurts, and my chest is tight. But despite the day week month year I’ve had, today I had a “God is able to save me, but even if He does not…” moment.

Now I’m just praying that my faith remains strong in His faithfulness.

For His faithfulness remains strong for me.

I’ve been back in Africa for ten days. And while my days have been filled with all sorts of hard, there’s also been a lot of really wonderful randomness.

Like staying up late and sleeping in long with my SweetFriend.

We’ve watched dozens of episodes of Ally McBeal, which means we have a whole list of new words that are now popping up in our vocabulary. Like snappish, bygones, disparaged, throes. They’re fun. You should try them sometime.

I’d left behind a stash of American treats that are now pretty much all expired. I don’t know why I even bother checking the date when I’m going to just shrug and eat it anyway. Here’s to stale Wheat Thins, questionable salsa con queso, and surprisingly still-good cookies that expired a year and a half ago.

God’s good to me and only our first few days here were freezing. I learned how to rock my fireplace, which isn’t as easy as simply pushing a button to light the “fake” gas fire. I’m talking wood, newsprint, and matches — Survivor-style. But today was sunny enough that I actually got away with just a short-sleeve shirt for a while. The fact that I’m wearing a fleece over it right now doesn’t take away from the joy of being de-layered earlier.

Sheesh, these four minutes went by too quickly.

All that to say, even though being here is really hard… There is beauty in my ashes.

Done.

My vocabulary is pretty chameleon-esque, with words and phrases lovingly stolen from quite a few friends. I gotta admit: I love my mosaic dialect. Mostly because of the memories that lace every word.

My sweet friend Tracee and I have picked up a crapload of each other’s sayings. (Oh yeah! She flew with me to Africa for these few weeks. God is so very good to me. It’s strengthening to my heart just to know she’s sleeping in the room next door as I type this. But I digress…)

It makes me laugh how often we sound like each other. Like the eleventy-two times it happened today alone. There are some things we both say so often, I can’t even remember anymore which one of us started them.

I love it.

It reminds me just how much my life is impacted by those I let close. And if “bad company corrupts good character,” then I know the opposite is also true.

And I hope to pick up more than words from my good company.

::

How do you and your friends sound alike? What are some words and phrases from your mosaic dialect?

I got to do Peaberry’s bedtime routine with her. While she was heavier in my arms than the last time I rocked her, she still fit perfectly. I sang my go-to song for her, snuggled her close, and whispered sweet nothings everythings to her. She is more beautiful than ever, and I love her more than I could possibly explain.

I had a play-doh date with my Siloh. We sat on the floor making penguins and pancakes, and though he’s grown up a lot, it felt like no time at all had passed. “I missed you so much,” I told him again. He looked up at me and whispered his reply: “I was at work.” I couldn’t help but laugh as my heart melted even more.

Dang.

I really missed my kids in Africa…

She was walking down the hill while I was walking up it. The moment she realized it was me, she burst into tears. We hugged for a long time.

Later, at my kitchen table, we talked. I wanted to know what’s new in her world and how her heart is. We both spoke; we both cried. She asked questions, she listened, she said beautiful things that my heart needed to hear. My friend overwhelmed me with her love and loyalty.

My mind keeps going back to those moments, replaying them over and over. I can’t find words to convey how hard these days have been, and how much I needed those minutes of feeling completely grounded. Of feeling as though I have purpose.

My prayers have been laced with a mixture of emotions and extreme requests. Good thing He knows my heart.

I’m so thankful that you’re talking to Him about me.

Mmmm… That, too, is love and loyalty.

Done.

Pleasure. Safety. Control. Immediacy.

Ugh.

Lord, I want to hold out for what You’ve promised. For it is always better than whatever else I may choose.

It’s a process. A journey. And a lifelong one at that.

It’s slow-going.

But I’m taking steps forward.

I find it hard to remember that baby steps are progress. But I know they are. I know that “little by little” is more than just okay.

At times, it’s exactly what God wants from me.

I picture it to be like when I step out of a dark room into the bright sunshine. My eyes can’t take it. I have to keep them closed a while. Then I can open them, just slightly at first, and peer out of squinted eyes with a hand providing some shade. It feels painful and undesirable, but then… my eyes adjust. I can move my hand away. I can open my eyes fully. And I can see clearly.

Similarly, I need my eyesight to adjust to His truth. And that can only come from abiding in His Word until I know the truth deep down inside.

What truth of God do you need to abide in until your eyes adjust?

I’m not sure yet how much I’ll be able to blog while I’m there. I’ve got a few posts scheduled to go up this week, but beyond that… I don’t know. I’m gonna try to still post as often as usual, but … no guarantees. It depends on a lot. Like if I’ll even have internet. Or power.

Or if my fingers are too cold to type.

Because I’m leaving the summery sunshine to go back to winter. And if you have doubts, believe me it gets cold where I live in South Africa. We get snow. And we have no indoor heating.

Here’s to seeing my breath in my bedroom when I wake up in the mornings!

Ugh.

I hate being cold.

But rest assured. If I have power and internet and non-frozen appendages, I’ll be blogging.

Oh! And please add warm weather to your prayer list!

[If you haven't yet, let me know what you've chosen as your prayer prompter. Then when I see/do/think about those same things, I'll be reminded of how you've come to Africa with me through your prayers.]

But it doesn’t mean I walk those things out very well. I try. I do. But I fail more often than not.

So while you know what my heart longs for, a look inside reveals more fear than faith, a lack of confidence, a lingering sense of hopelessness, a strong desire to just stop this train and climb off.

I’m flying back to South Africa tomorrow for a few weeks. I’m going home but, for the first time ever, it doesn’t feel like home at all. And I don’t know what to do with that. I’ll be facing my own demons, hurts, and griefs, and I don’t at all feel ready. I’m not strong enough. I don’t have enough faith. I have no choice but to do it afraid.

But I’m tired. Physically, yes (always am). But I mean on the inside. The battle has been long and intense, and I’m tired of the fight.

Will you pray for me?

I need strength. Wisdom. Grace. Patience. Faith. Discernment. To be slow to anger and quick to love. A right heart. To not grow weary in doing good.

I need hope. Joy. Peace. Wholeness in the midst of brokenness. Eyes to see Him. To abandon my self-sufficiency and develop a new sense of God-sufficiency.

I need boldness. Clarity. Understanding. To live righteous and honor God. To speak the truth in love. To fear Him more than I fear anything else.

It’s a long list, I know.

Will you pick something you do every day to serve as a reminder to pray for me? Maybe drinking coffee can nudge your heart to lift me up. Or perhaps you can talk to Him about me when you’re working out. Or going to bed. Or feeding your dog. Or every time you apply lip gloss.

Please pick something—anything—to be a prayer prompter.

Cause I can’t do this alone.