Spilled Milk

It's days when I boil the milk over for the second time this week when I want to sit down and cry.

When a long day was preceded with a long week with long hours of waiting. Sometimes I feel like that's all I do here. I wait at the clinic for the OB doctor to come in for three hours, only for him not to show and a dozen women are told to return the next day in hopes of catching him then. I wait for hours to see if my friend's baby has malaria, which should only take 20 minutes. I wait for the power to come back on so we can make tea for the women. I wait for the rain to stop so I can see where I'm walking.

I wait for my friends to see Jesus.

You know that page in Dr. Seuss' book Oh The Places You'll Go! ? The waiting place.

Waiting for a train to go

or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or waiting around for a Yes or a No

or waiting for their hair to grow.

Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite

or waiting for wind to fly a kite

or waiting around for Friday night

or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake

or a pot to boil, or a Better Break

or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants

or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.

Everyone is just waiting

As I mull over these thoughts I realize that God is waiting. He wants my friends to know Him more than I do. He cares for these people: the beautiful women, the dear children, the fathers who have never had a father, and is waiting for them to return to Him.

“God desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.” – 1 Tim 2:4

Brenda wants to go back to school but her class fees would be 300,000/ – $125. Sandra is 8 months pregnant and was tested and has malaria but the doctors only gave her Panadol – equivalent to Advil. Esther has a placental abruption but refuses to go on bed rest and is in danger of losing her baby -- but she doesn't even want the baby. 

“Seek the LORD and live” - Amos 5:6

I'm thankful for fresh pineapples and canning pickles with the Jores and drinking sweet warm milk before bed. I'm thankful for chilly days when the wind blows so strong that the leaves whistle through the yard and Jay exclaims, “MOM! IT'S FALL!” even though it's probably still between 65-70°. I'm thankful that I have life, and so many of my friends here are finding true life in Him as well. 

I'm thankful God is opening my eyes to more of His love for me and the rest of the world “slowly by slowly” (another common phrase here).

In the midst of the waiting, life does not stand still. We live, laugh, love, and seek God. And He's here.

I've found that I am so very thankful that we serve a God who waits as well.