Updates

Fatimata and Baby (read on for their story)

I have a few updates for you from different areas of life around here. We have 7 weeks left in Cote d'Ivoire. One of those weeks we will be meeting Mike's dad in a neighboring country for a spiritual retreat. Some of that time we will have to pack up everything we own and prepare it to be left in a hot, humid environment for 9 months. Much of that time will be used in going to visit EVERY person we know to say goodbye, because we are African and that is what we do. In our spare time, ha, we'll be trying to prepare all of our areas of ministry for our absence. Needless to say, we have more stuff to do than time to do it with.

I know that you all have prayed with us on numerous occasions for many different things. If I remember what I've asked you to pray about, I try to let you know how that turned out. Unfortunately, my memory is a little slippery.

A few months ago I told you about the baby of a Muslim lady that I knew that was very sick. Mom's name is Fatimata. I was almost certain the baby was near death. His little head just rolled listlessly. He wasn't focusing on anything. When he was trying to nurse, he couldn't really even suck. You prayed and within a few days the baby was doing better. His mom called me after 3 days. My heart sunk when I saw the number. I thought they were calling to say he'd died, but not so. After a week or so, he was much better. Within a month, he was doing well. It is obvious he has some form of disability, but now he is starting to babble and hold his head up well. The best thing of all is that she credited our prayers with the healing. She has now started listening to the story set of God's plan for redemption. Her French is not good and my Moore is not good, but we are making it work. Each phrase we work through in both languages to make sure she understands. Right now, she's listening. She even told me last week that she "prefers" Christianity for a number of reasons. Her home life is HARD. Just pray with me that God opens her eyes to eternity and the exclusivity of the Way.

My dear friend Agira, now in Burkina, had her baby this week. She had a little boy on Wednesday. Everything went wonderfully and she also thanks you for your prayers. She has no doubt that your prayers work, but she is just blinded thinking that either road is equally good and you should stay on the path you started on. Unfortunately, my influence is now limited to 5 minute phone calls. Pray that this dear one understands the Truth! Pray also that she finds a home she can afford. After 3 months in Burkina, she still hasn't found a home for her and her 3 kids there with her.

I also remembered one of my more amusing moments in Burkina last month. Every day while there, we walked a lot. The people I was able to visit lived in more remote areas, even those that were in the city. Upon driving as close as possible, I would have to walk for an hour or so to reach their homes. One particular day we'd walked for an hour and a half (walking briskly mind you) and came to this chasm. There was a 3 foot jump to an island about 3 feet wide and another 3 foot jump on the other side. If you missed the jump, the fall was only about 5 feet, but not something I wished to do. We had a guide that was leading us back to the house with a little moped in tow. The moped looked like a bicycle with a gas tank and our guide was a beautiful African woman, but she easily made 2 of me. In addition, she was carrying a 2 year old baby on her back and had a 4 year old with her as well. At this point Agira was 8 months pregnant. Our guide jumped the chasm first and Agira handed across the moped. Then I jumped, graceful or not, and I made it. Agira jumped too. One down, one to go. We did the same with the next jump and all made it safely except for a 10 year old tag along that was caught mid fall by the arm by Agira and pulled to safety. We've now been walking for about 2 hours and our guide looks at me and asks if I am ready to ride the moped. Now, I am used to walking, but I am carrying an 18 pound baby and he is getting really heavy. I am, however, TERRIFIED of the moped and I've never ridden one here. I ask, "is it still REALLY far?" and get the answer, "yes!" OK, time to swallow my fear, because if I say I'm walking, that means the pregnant lady will have to walk too. I agree and warn them that I've never ridden a moped and don't know how. "No problem!" they say. I pull out my baby wrap and tie Benjamin on my back tight. Now that I've agreed to this, I've got to figure out HOW. There is a little metal rack that hangs out behind the seat, and I know that is where the little ones sit when Mom drives. So upon mounting that, I have to figure out what to do with my tight wrap skirt, which I forgot to wear pants under this particular day (some days I do, some I don't). So I climb on as best I can and Agira arranges my skirt for me. That is really not what is bothering at that moment though. What bothers me is that I am on a moped with a baby on my back behind a large African with a baby on her back. I am trying to figure out how hard I can cling to her and where exactly I can get a good handhold that won't hurt the baby. I settle for wrapping my arms around her as best I can and hanging on for dear life even though, the WHOLE VILLAGE is now watching me. I am fairly certain the back seat person isn't supposed to hang on, but I don't really care right now. Note to self, wire rack may be good for hauling water, but HURTS for carrying grown woman. All I can think of is, if I fall off, Benjamin falls of too! Finally we make it and I gladly hop off. Now this lovely lady heads off with her baby on her back, to get my 8 month pregnant friend and her 4 year old. They join me in no time and I feel like a total loser for being such a scaredy cat. Of course, my sense of safety has kept me alive thus far and must be good for something. We took a different route out that evening that meant a LONG walk, but let me keep at least on foot on the ground at all times. It was great.

And that was just another great day in the life of a missionary. Come join us for some good old FUN!
With Love,
Heather