Laughing on Memory Lane . . .

In 2007 while we were in Liberia with Mercy Ships, every Sunday morning, three-year-old Samuel would come in to our cabin, crawl up into Matt's bunk and wake him up for church.  A lot changes in fourteen years, especially little Samuel . . .  

In Honor of Memorial Day . . .

There was a family yesterday on the south side of the road who had put out all sorts of signs/balloons/bunting to honor those who had served in the military.  In this time of chaos and disorder, it was such a wonderful thing to see! 

Happy Memorial Day!

 

Only at Sand Creek . . .

 Our last group of the included two six zippers.  They had met on-line during Covid and were now beginning to date.  He was from India and Hindu.  She was Hmong and a Christian.  On technically our fourth zip, she asked me about pursuing a relationship with him.  She zipped off and I asked him where he stood with his faith.  

He assured me that his being a Hindu was not going to be a problem.  Of course, Hindu parents approved spouses for their children, but his parents weren't like that.  I told him I was skeptical, but I didn't know them.  I shared what transpired in my life.  While both Sam and I were both definite followers of Christ, our families differed on issues and it was hard for both of us.

At the next platform, he zipped off and she asked what I thought.  I told her I would not pursue a relationship with someone of a different faith than mine.  I gave her just one example of something that had happened to me and she was shocked, hopefully shocked enough to make good and wise choices.

      

Only at Sand Creek . . .

Usually when I'm at Sand Creek, I believe that I'm there to be the light and love of Jesus to those who come to zip.  Today I had a totally different feel.  Today, I believe I was there to mentor/help/love/brainstorm/assist one of our new staff who is starting a new job in two weeks.  (She'll continue to work at SCA on weekends.)  I was able to give her feedback, encouragement and ideas for her new job.  Out of the blue, God laid it on me to bring along something I had created for team builds that she's going to use with her new staff on Wednesday.  Today, I was blessed to be a blessing!  How fun! 

Friday . . .

I brought my students in to Mrs. Bakke's room at 2:35 this afternoon and said, "I'm going to go have lunch now."  (Yup, I had a YUCK lunch schedule this year!) She stopped what she was doing, stopped the class, and said, "Do you all know this is Mrs. Zupke's (pause) I'm going to cry (longer pause with tears) last full day with us?"  The entire class looked at me, somewhat surprised, most all with love . . . Mrs. Bakke composed herself and said, "But she coming back to visit on Thursday so we can say 'Good-bye'".  

I said, "You mean party?"  

Owen said, "It's my birthday that day!"  

I said, "That means we're going to party." 

The joy in my heart . . . the confirmation in my soul . . . that I was where I needed to be as I got to love this fifth grade classroom and their wonderful teacher for ten amazing months!  To God be the glory!

Giselle

Young Gisele’s heart was broken after she endured an obstructed labor which resulted in the loss of her unborn child and the development of obstetric fistula.   For over 20 long years, Gisele lived with the pain and embarrassment of this condition. In the midst of her pain, Gisele suffered yet another loss when her husband, realizing that she would probably never have children, abandoned her.   While the nature of Gisele’s condition was terrible, her grief for her lost dream of a family haunted her. Unable to hide the strong odor of incontinence and the stigma around her condition, Gisele withdrew into a life of solitude, but she prayed that someday she might find hope.   That day arrived when she heard of a place where she might receive surgery — a hospital ship called the Africa Mercy. It was not long before she found herself sitting on a hospital bed onboard, waiting for surgery that would heal the condition that haunted her for over 20 years.

In addition to the healing she found physically, Giselle found emotional restoration in the attentive way the doctors and nurses cared for her, and in the relationships she built with the other women in the fistula ward. Obstetric fistula is typically a condition of isolation. Confined in solitude, Gisele was poisoned by her belief that her life had no value. During her time onboard, she was introduced to other women who shared similar journeys and formed a sisterhood with them that began healing her spirit.

When their recuperation was complete, the hospital threw a going-away party for Giselle and the other women in the ward. Each woman was presented with a beautiful new dress, symbolizing their restored life. On the morning of the celebration, the women gathered in the ward to do their make-up and fasten their head wraps. The room was filled with chatter, smiles, and an energy like that of a bridal party. Gisele surveyed the room of women getting ready and joyfully said, "Today is good." After the celebration was over, Gisele walked out of the hospital, down the dock, and took her first step back into society.