The In Betweens....

The in betweens of life are the times we seem to want out of the most. They're the times in which we feel suspended, lost, and lacking direction. The times we spend pursuing a degree, waiting for a dream job, forming a little one within us, growing up, figuring out our next steps.... the becoming that we lose track of for always pursuing the end goal. The cliche journey vs. destination conundrum.

But I think these in-between times make up most of our lives. I'm coming to believe we need to embrace these times the most closely, because they make up so much of our histories. This is the stuff lives are composed of. To find joy and contentment in the in-betweens is a delight few know and many should learn.


This thing called waiting is one of those lessons I keep getting. Either I've failed to learn, or I'm failing to retain, but it seems to come around at least as frequently as the purposeful, intentional, goal-focused living that is the stuff people think life is made of. Yet that elusive dream of a structured life so often keeps me from living well the pieces that are set before me.

Pastor Jerry in the striped tie, now with Jesus

I'm reminded to enjoy the in-betweens as I grieve the loss of one of my Philippine pastors, Pastor Jerry. He turned 50 at the beginning of December, and he is survived by his wife of 2 years, and his 1-year-old baby girl. If he'd waited for those monumental things in life, rather than living his in-betweens, there wouldn't be so much living to his life. Who knows when our time is up and our name will be called? How can we measure the importance of our lives in events, achievements, and goals?






In so many ways I find myself in a major in-between time just now. I'm striving to live each day thoughtfully, purposefully, and prayerfully. I have hopes and dreams which may develop into goals and achievements, but I'm insistent upon living the now with intention. While idealistic thoughts and dreams for the future should drive me forward, they are actually a hindrance when they interfere with a fruit-filled today. So while I plan to keep dreaming and anticipating, I'm also learning to make the most of my in-betweens.

I must work the works of Him who sent me while it is day. The night cometh when no man can work. John 9:4

In Which I Travel Again.....

Here we go again.
Ah! The life of a wayfaring stranger. I'm a wee bit gypsy, I think.
Travel and new homes.
New friends and new faces.

I've kissed the new little face I came to see in Georgia, so this weekend will find me traveling again. Kentucky should be another month of new little people and learning.
I'm sure that too, will look different than I expect it to.


 This 'coming home' thing is not as simple as one might think. While I find open arms and kindness everywhere I turn, my heart doesn't feel settled anywhere. My season in the Philippines is over, yet Wisconsin, with all it's charm and beauty, is not a permanent settling place for me.

And this heart wasn't made to settle. It was made to strive for more.

I have a bit of a fear of 'falling into' the hustle and bustle of everything here, and forgetting to move on.

My prayer at present is for purpose and vision. For clear direction and next steps.
In this season I'm knocking on doors, turning over stones, and trying to find a place that God is working so I can join Him.

And I'm trying to rest. Refresh. Rebuild.






As usual I have big dreams and big ideas. The difficulty now is sorting out the ones that belong to me, and the ones that come from Him.

I'm striving to be prudent and diligent in the meanwhile, stewarding my time in a way that will honor Him.

The God of all peace is where my heart finds home. He is my vision and my soul's true desire.
May this wanderlust keep me ever cognizant that this world is not my home. May it keep me from settling for comfort over courage. May it turn my face ever toward Him.

Another Birthday...

This isn't a post about my birthday, though I do have one of those that seems to float by once-a-year-ish. It is about the birthday of a little girl who arrived 10 days after my birthday. She has a head-full of black hair, dark grey eyes, and the most darling expressions I've ever seen.

One of the benefits of being a traveling, live-in midwife, is that you really get to know your patients, and depending on when your flight is booked, you really get to know their little babies too. I've had the treat of two weeks of newborn snuggles. But now for the main event.

It was not-quite-4am. Outside, the dark cloak of night still clung tightly about dawn's shoulders. My unconsciousness was interrupted by a knocking at my door. I bolted upright, fumbling for my clock. My jumbled thoughts couldn't determine whether I had overslept or if something else was afoot. I opened my door about as far as my eyes were managing to be open. Before me stood a slightly anxious/excited version of the father-to-be. Ah, this made sense. It was B-day.

Thing was, contractions were still pretty spaced out. Based on what I was seeing, I anticipated a long day ahead. The whole household was awake now, making phone calls, boiling water, and giving lots of advice to the laboring mamma.  Mommy, Daddy, and I decided to move the party upstairs. After a prayer, a few photos, and a little laying-out of my equipment something shifted. Contractions were announcing themselves more aggressively, and forcing a longer acquaintance.  Still far enough apart to predict a few more hours of labor, but a bit obstinate now.

 Then came the doozy. 3 minutes of it. And oh! That would be the baby's head I can see! Then sweetly, between contractions, baby girl turned her head and pushed with her feet and birthed her own head. I want to know this girl when she's 20, she's destined to be a world-changer. Nothing like making things happen from the beginning. Then how she yelled. Strong and lusty, just as we had prayed for. Proclaiming her birthday for all the world.

It was like the movies. Every time I opened the bedroom door, 15 eager pairs of eyes turned in my direction. Was she here? Was it time to see baby? Was everything ok? How much did she weigh? Was that really only 3 hours? But mamma and baby needed some time. Daddy and I had some cleaning up to do. So coffee and pastries had to fill in for first sights of a newborn. Then, finally, amid an assault of first pictures and ooohs and aaahs, little girl made her public debut.

That's how it was, folks. Another whirlwind labor and birth. Another snugly, perfect newborn and another happy older brother. And then two weeks of joy, here in Honduras. Smiles, diapers, Spanish, baths, snuggles, and fellowship. And that, was another birthday.

On The Importance of Things....

I've been thinking a lot about the emphasis we place on different things vs. their actual importance. It's actually a really depressing train of thought. It doesn't take one long to encounter things in society, the church, and more alarmingly, in one's self that are really poorly prioritized. Not all of these apply to every person, and each of us have blind spots, but I just have some questions.

When did modesty become more important than poverty?

It seems every week I see some new blog post from a guy, pleading with his Christian sisters to dress modestly. I see pricy swim wear, which could double as a snowmobile suit, and another link to another sermon about the importance of modesty. I think I've been to more camps and conferences that touch on modesty than ones that touch on poverty too. To go to such and such a camp, you must wear clothes within certain guidelines, but they never talk about how much of your income you should give to the poor. Modesty is important, but scripture has two verses about it, yet the gospel was DESIGNED for the poor. How does this work?

How does 'raising a good family' take precedence over evangelism?

'Right now we're just focused on raising our family.' 'My ministry right now is my children.' May I make an observation? Is it possible that it is IMPOSSIBLE to raise a godly family without an emphasis on evangelism? Maybe sheltering our children is doing more harm than good. If our youth see sin as sin, in the context of reaching sinners, maybe it will look less attractive to them. If they are constantly renewed in the joy of their salvation by sharing that joy and truth with others, maybe it will sink in and stick around. Perhaps it is the wisdom of God that He commands us to make disciples. Nothing beats discipling for keeping one on one's toes spiritually.

A baby from last March

Why do we think it is more important to get to church on time, than to live the gospel?

How is it that we'd rather create family discord, ignore the stranded commuter on the side of the road, and skip sharing with the gas station attendant in order to get to church on time? It might be more holy to live the gospel, than to go to church. And maybe we'll be radical and strange, but possibly that will make Christianity attractive and authentic. Maybe if we give up 'saving face' at church and focus on saving souls, the Christ will be more accurately represented. He often stopped to talk with a blind man, or paused his 'schedule' to make time for the children.

When did our needs become more important than the church?

Why is it now legitimate to stay home from church because you 'didn't have the energy'? And at what point does the excuse, 'I'm just not being fed' need to be turned into the question 'Who are you feeding?" Yeah, church requires energy, and many times, may I say MOST OF THE TIME we will feel like we are doing more giving than receiving. But when did this become all about us? Can the hand say to the mouth,"I feel like I'm doing more giving than receiving?" Where is the concept of laying down our lives for our brethren?

Why is it ok to debate theology at the risk of unity?

When did Christians get this concept of needing to be right, and to make sure everyone else is too? Maybe its time we realize that we've all got a few things right, and a lot of things wrong, and are probably completely ignorant as to which things fall into each category. Possibly it would behoove us to see that music styles, preference on alcohol intake, and handshake vs. holy kiss are not salvation issues, and don't need to be matters of division. Even 'more major' issues SHOULD NOT come between two people who believe the basics of the gospel. Maybe the diversity in beliefs and traditions is actually a beautiful statement about how big God is, and how He loves variety. Maybe different denominations each represent a different aspect of a massive God as each has understanding to do. And since people are to know us by our love one toward another, lets allow that to cross denominational boundaries.

Why is it ok to buy a $5 coffee, but financially irresponsible to give generously and live by faith?

Why can people 'go out' after church events, but missionaries are ill-funded? When some people drive an old car, rent a small apartment, and spend a lot on missions work, I have heard them described as 'unstable' or 'financially irresponsible'. Yet when the next person over has a $5 per day coffee habit, is making car payments, and does not involve themselves in missions, I hear them described as 'trying to get ahead' and 'settling down'. We have this backwards. Investing in eternity is wise, no matter the cost. Investing in this life is dangerous. Where our treasure is will dictate where our heart puts down roots.

Please, dear reader, do not take all of these thoughts in a wrong way. I'm asking questions. I'm processing. I'm preparing to come back to a life I once knew, but with a completely different perspective and as a result, I'm questioning values I once held and actions I once justified. Yes, there are two sides to all of these issues. And yes, I'm offering one perspective. But these are my raw thoughts based on life as I see it right now. Will they change over time? I hope so. I welcome your thoughts as part of this process. Peace out.

I'm Dying....

.... And so are you.

It's been that way since I was born. Because life is a terminal diagnosis. We're all dying, some just faster than others. I just wish we would live a little more that way. Like the dying people we are, savoring moments,  speaking kind words, and making decisions count.

Dying people tend to consider eternity in their decisions.  They make choices to maximize their time and money. They take risks because risks seem less risky when nothing is sure anyways.  Dying people do things now, because later might not come. Visits and conversations are ended with care just in case. Even to those who categorize themselves as 'living' rather than 'dying' there is nothing sure in this life... we must each realize that we're dying.

Do you know what else we should realize? That everyone else is dying too. You don't tend to focus on the faults of dying people, you want to stay positive and uplifting. That habit would benefit every relationship we have. Zoom in on the good things and let the ick around it all drift out of focus. The picture book of our lives would be so much more lovely. As would our speech.

If we really understood that there is no cure for death, how would we live differently? Would we invest more in people than things? Would we take time to tell the dying people around us about eternal living? About LIFE and that more abundantly? Would we focus more on appearance or on character? I think we would fit more living into life.

Maybe if we knew we were dying, church would become Christians loving Christians, and we would tell other people our life story in order to introduce them to the LIFE in our story. Because if we were dying, we'd realize that we have a finite number of minutes to share the Joy and the Truth, and that at any time our meter might be up. And we'd understand that if we ever plan to change the world or the way we interact with it, this is our chance.

Would we prioritize the important over the urgent? The needs of others above our own? Would we be slower to speak unkind things and more sincere and timely in apology when we did? Would we give sooner than taking? If we really comprehended the inevitability of dying, which issues in our lives would we shift to the 'No Big Deal' list?

We take care of dying people, and we usually cut them some slack.... if we realize they're dying. We cherish them and try to make their lives easier. We look after the well-being of their souls. We make sacrifices on their behalf and give up our comfort for theirs.
Essentially, we give them the best of everything we have. And we listen to them too. Because they're dying, after all. And somehow the status of dying makes you more important.

So guess what. You're dying. And so is everyone else. Maybe it is time we start living that way.

Who am I?

Who am I?

It's like the great question of all time. I think most people spend significant portions of their lives trying to figure this out. What people don't seem to 'get' is that in real, alive people, that is constantly changing. So is our image of who we want to become. Sometimes we don't realize how much it is shaped by our decisions as well as the influences in our lives. And how little we really do understand ourselves.

Lately, I have been going through an identity crisis. I'm just putting that out there, all honest and stuff. See, my time here is wrapping up, and while I still see my life calling as one of missions, does one really identify as a missionary while between assignments? And if not a missionary, what? I have no job, no distinct social group, no permanent location.... so many of the little identifying details of my life are in limbo right now.

So there will be people who tell me, "your identity is in Christ". Yes. That is true, but only so helpful. Because while Christ is the core of my being, He has also made me a goal oriented person. And honestly, most of the time people say things like "You don't have to be yourself, you just have to be like Jesus" or "Your identity is in Christ" , what they are really saying is, here is my perception of Christ-like behavior, and a church you should probably identify with. That isn't a criticism. It is simply a very human trait of projecting our expectations onto other people. We all do it.

Who am I and what has become of the Melissa I used to know? Sometimes I wonder. I love my life here, but it is surrounded by people. I am never alone. And the super friendly, always smiling, energetic, ready-to-meet-new-people version of me has necessarily adapted. I'm like a laptop on battery settings.... I am conserving energy. Is this who I've become, or is it just a phase? Eh.... we'll see. I still dance and sing and smile, it's all good. Life is a process of becoming.

I was reminded the other day, of when I graduated from college. I clearly remember saying, "I once again find myself in the very healthy but uncomfortable position of having absolutely no clue what is next." And I thought of the last three times I found myself at that place. As Psalms encourages us to do, I remembered the goodness of the Lord at all those times. I remember how God placed opportunities in my life that were beyond belief, and how my life just kept taking amazing turns. And it gave me hope. I should probably have this down by now, but if I'm straightforward, I still like to feel like I'm in control.

Controlled, risk-free surrender. I think that is what I want. It's a total oxymoron though, so that is another thing I'm going to have to let go of. I'm actually a little afraid of coming back to the US. I'm afraid that everything will have changed, and at the same time, that nothing will have changed. I'm afraid of getting too comfortable, I'm afraid of not finding a niche, and I'm afraid of leaving somewhere that has been so wonderful and transformative. Actually, maybe those fears apply to anywhere, ya know? Because humans are humans no matter where we are. We sin, we lose focus, and we sometimes get so caught up in 'Christianity' that it is an act of habit, not an act of love.

So basically I've concluded that moving back to the States is outside of my comfort zone. Ah, a perfect place to be. I expect that God will shake me up a bit, and root out a few things that have settled in too deeply. I don't really know what else to expect. To date, I've had no supernatural revelations of how I should direct my steps. But oh! The mercy of the Lord as we daily rely on Him for every decision. So yeah, on a lot of levels I am trying to answer the question, "Who am I?" just like everybody else is.

I revel in the fact that God is the same, no matter which country I serve Him from. It seems incredible to me that He is big enough to boggle our minds, and yet He is unchanging. And I find myself astounded at the great wisdom of a God who understood how important it would be for us to know, "I am the Lord, I change not". Maybe who I am isn't all that important as long as I'm sure of who He is.

Do You Want Her?

She was cute. That's what I thought from the second she walked in with her white and red polka-dotted dress. She was also really afraid. It took a lot of coaxing and reassurance just to walk her through the normal admittance procedure. If I'd had to guess, I would've said it was her first, but she already has a little girl. She was just so.... lost. She latched on to me pretty quickly, and thereafter never let me leave her side.

Her support person was her sister in law. A bundle of giggles, I'm not sure how much support she really was. Her interest was piqued when she found out that we had milk and Milo for the patients. She lost no time in preparing one for the patient, and another for herself. And she giggled. Really, she giggled through the whole thing. Even amidst the intensity of the baby's very emergence, she was falling off her chair in giggles and snorts. Not much help, it seemed.

But where was the husband? The father of this baby? He's not around anymore. He's gone. So when she pulled me over and had me squat down so that I was the right height for support, I knew I was all she had. I didn't scold her when she wrapped her arms around my neck and gripped tightly with the pain. I had become more than just a set of hands to welcome her baby. We prayed and we breathed and then it was time.

Nothing else existed in the moment of birth. Not the sister-in-law who was falling off her chair in giggles nearby, not the extra hands that came to help, and not the baby initiating her vocal cords in the next bed. She responded to my words of comfort and my encouragement to relax and let go of her fear. Our eyes locked, and we worked together to get that tiny girl safely into the world. A deep, deep sigh, and her head laid back and her eyes closed. Her hands found the new little one placed on her belly.

The nose was too flat. Momma kept pinching it. She told me she wanted her baby's nose to be tall like mine, so she kept pinching it. The upside is, baby just survived birth and seemed not to notice the small discomfort that was nasal reshaping therapy. I admired her baby's beauty as I began the newborn exam.

"Do you want her?"

My eyes darted to the mother's face, trying to reassure my quickening pulse that she was teasing.

"Do you want her? You can adopt her."

Her face was serious, and her sister-in-law repeated the question. I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered, horrified, or just heartbroken. And although reason tried to quell it, something deep inside me was screaming "Yes, yes, yes, YES!". Because she was precious and beautiful and I DO want a baby. Something wanted to treasure this tiny soul as she deserves to be treasured and that same something recoiled from the thought of a mother so willing to part with her new daughter.

"But she's yours, and she's perfect and she's beautiful."

"No, you can have her. You can take her to America and she can be yours."

In the absence of proper words, I defaulted to my nervous giggle. Act like its a joke. We finished up the exam and I focused on helping Momma and baby bond. Little girl was carefully cared for, even loved I think.  Probably her life will be tough with no Daddy to take care of her. I cannot change that even if I could consider adopting her. But I can pray that she will be loved. And I can trust, because I know there is One Daddy who will gladly adopt her. She will never have to ask Him "Do you want me?" because He's already signed her adoption papers with His blood.

Some Super Things....

My last post was rather depressing. It was where I was at the moment, feeling very discouraged and a bit alone. The thing is, although I was facing quite a conglomerate of impossible-seeming situations, God never failed in His faithfulness toward me. He gave me a lot of super things in life this last two weeks.

Time with a super baby

Time with a super food (can anyone say Wasabiiiiiiiii!)

 This baby is probably the cutest baby I ever saw in my life. Please don't take offense if you also have a cute baby, but she was just a sweetheart, and snuggles from her came at just the right times. She made all sorts of hilarious faces, and brought a bright bit of joy to my difficult days.

Time with a super woman

 
It may seem insignificant, but even in a land filled with delicious foods, familiar flavors are such a comfort. I found the supplies for making California rolls, and some Wasabi powder at the grocery store. This was a first for me, constructing my own rolls. As one of my roommates put it, "The wonderful thing about eating Wasabi, is you're never quite certain you'll survive."




I also have some pretty great friends. Friends who really helped me out when I wasn't feeling the greatest, and who brightened my days and pointed me to Jesus. Friends who helped me achieve my New Year's Resolution of earning 2 free Gelattos with my customer punch card. Who let me cry in front of them, and process things a million times, and prayed for me, and checked on how I was doing. Friends who walked with me through some difficult choices and difficult days.

Time with a super man

I'm so thankful for a Super God. He has provided the finances I needed for my NARM exam, the final step in my program journey here. He provided encouragement through my church here. Also, He has begun to put some vision in my heart. The transition ahead of me feels daunting, but I have hope resting in the fact that God has really ordained this time in my life, and will direct my steps. He has also continued to restore my body and my strength so that today I am walking in health that was not mine just 2 weeks ago.

Actually, make that two super women

God has provided for my friends as well, lining up jobs and opportunities for them as they also plan to return to countries of origin. He has blessed a few friends in the States with beautiful babies of their own. He has given Joy instead of Mourning, Gladness instead of Heaviness, and Hope in the place of Despair. He has blessed my studies, my relationships, my work, and my health. Blessed be the Name of the Lord, who has made heaven and earth. Blessed be His Glorious Name. It's pretty Super to have a God of the Universe looking out for a soul like me.

Just a lot.....

There's been a lot going on recently.... just.... a lot. All sorts of things, some better than others.
Here are some things that have happened.

• I came to the end of my academic coursework

Yep, two years of study and stress has finally wrapped up, and my focus shifts to solidifying all that I've learned in hopes of passing a board exam when I return to States. There is a lot pivoting on that crucial exam, so the pressure is on in a whole new way!

• I had two visitors from the States

Mrs. Eide and Michelle came to visit, and got a week-long taste of my life here. They came during the time we were having 4-8 hours of power outages daily, so they really got to experience the heat first-hand. It was so good to see familiar faces.

• 3 of my co-workers have been hospitalized for crazy, life-threatening things

It is a tad stressful, to say the least, when co-workers are hospitalized. We take turns staying with them 24-7, and that adds to the craziness. God has been faithful, and all three are on the mend. But a crazy autoimmune thing, appendicitis, and a very complicated pregnancy and delivery were all a bit touch-and-go for a while there.

• One of my babies required 5 minutes of resuscitation after birth 

This is just stressful no matter how you look at it. Thankfully, that baby is breathing on his own now, due to be released from the hospital where we took him after we got him going.

• I am feeling weary, and my body is begging me for a break

It is the proverbial crash at the end of a really crazy few weeks, months, or maybe years. My body has betrayed me, and I am struggling to keep up with basic life.

Honestly, friends, I am weary and in need of prayers. I see God's hand in my daily life, and I am assured of His kindness toward me. But my human frailty is daily before me, and tonight, more than usual. I covet your prayers, dear people. I need strength and wisdom and clarity. I need a peace that passes all understanding.

There's some straight up mission-field honesty for ya. Humanity and frailty at its finest. Thankfully, God is near to those who are broken, and strengthens the weak. Grace and peace to all of you.
Love,
Miss-o-wissa

On Feelings....

I feel distant.
Maybe that's because I live on the opposite side of the world from people and places I've considered home. But mostly it's not the physical things that make me feel distant. Its emotional things. Things like the fact that my sister is engaged to marry a man I barely know. That my nephew is almost 1, and I've only met him once. Maybe its things like engagement announcements, weddings, funerals, and big moments that I sometimes don't even know about for days or weeks after the fact.

I feel loved.
Some of you have really made an effort to stay in touch. I do understand the effort that requires. Thank you. Letters and cards are precious here, and packages an even more rare treat! I feel loved when God has chosen to provide my needs through you. I feel loved by random emails, and an occasional chat on Facebook. And I am told by family members that people ask about me and pray for me, and my heart is warmed.


I feel overwhelmed.
As I study and read, as I learn everything I can about babies and mothers and midwifery, I feel overwhelmed by the miracle that is birth. I feel amazed that it ever goes well, and that so many perfect babies are born when so much can go wrong. I feel overwhelmed by assignments and work and lack of sleep.I feel overwhelmed by the possibilities that open to me, and the decisions I have to make. And I feel overwhelmed in trying to figure out the practical and financial aspects of it all.

The roasted wedding pig

 I feel hopeful.
As I entertain the idea of various possibilities for my future, I feel hopeful and excited. Yes, there is some mixture in those feelings, but my overwhelming sentiment is hopefulness. I am hopeful that these next few months will be filled with adventure, excitement, and meaningful connections with people I love here. My hope is that I can wrap up my time here well.

I feel privileged.
I've become the Godmother of this little sweetie, and the midwife to about 70 others, and I feel the immense joy of that. I feel honored that God has given me this amazing opportunity to serve in this amazing culture and ministry. The people I've met here are quality individuals, many of whom really love the Lord. This is a huge joy to my heart. And I frequently participate in miracles and watch God's creative power at work.

I feel curious.
I know it may seem early to think about next steps, but the truth is, in just 3 short months, I'll be needing to take those steps. I feel curious as to what God is preparing next for me. I wonder what connections He has for me, and what country will be my next stop. I wonder why He has graciously chosen me, and what the next few years may look like. Reverse culture shock intrigues (and frightens) me a bit. I'm curious how God may choose to work in and through me as I continue to submit myself to His all-knowing plan.
Enough feelings for you? Let me know what you guys are feeling..... It'll make me feel less distant.

More Sisters....

So after the trip to the waterfalls, we made a motorized tour of the island. We stopped at the home of our drivers where we were served fresh coconut. So fresh was this coconut that a long, bamboo spire with a knife on the end was employed to relieve the tree of said fruit before our very eyes.












 Machetes were wielded to facilitate the disembowelment of the coconut, and they were laid on the table before us.













 Early next morning, we took a small fishing boat out for a cruise. We snorkeled, saw giant clams over 1.3 meters in length, and each got a nice bit of sunburn to show for it.

 On the way back to our resort the heavens showed their hospitality by opening the windows, as it were, and drenching us.(hence my sisters' malongs).








 Following our days in paradise, I introduced my sisters to the peach-mango pie at Jollibee....













 Roadside fruit stands......










And the open market which was described as being simultaneously "The most fascinating and disgusting thing I have ever seen".









I have spared the pictures of freshly butchered meat, the smell of dried fish, and the sounds of pigs being led to slaughter.

 I introduced them to my Indian friend, Tareen.











These identical twins showed up at the primary health care outreach we did.












While I listened to hearts and lungs and checked rashes and fevers, my sisters made their own set of friends.















They made their way into a lot of little hearts.











And left with a large number of admirers.

 

 We tasted the goodness of Davao's best Frappe,















And learned the joys of public transportation. To top it all off, we went to the nearby mall for the fountain show. These fountains are choreographed to music, as are the colorful lights that accompany their dance. What a finale to a whirlwind, wonderful visit from two of the most precious friends a girl could ever have.

About the Sister(s)...

So I told you my sister was coming to see me. Imagine, then, my surprise when not one but TWO sisters showed up at the airport! The dear, weary travelers caught me completely off-guard and I must admit, I shed a few tears in my happiness.






A newly-acquired friend from the airport took us out for breakfast. Nothing says 'Welcome to Davao' quite like porriage with pig intestines for breakfast!







The next few days were filled with babies as my sisters shadowed me on birth-room shifts. I have never known anything quite like the first cry of a newborn baby to steal hearts and bring tears to one's eyes. I believe it was love at first sight.










The shifts were full and busy, which made getting over jet-lag a bit of a challenge. Post-partum hemorrhage and jet lag apparently don't mix well.







They were naturals at newborn care, and got to hold not a few infants when other hands were too full.








After our busy days of work, we were off to paradise. We spent four nights in this  little hut, the ocean creeping right up to the wall in front of us each night.














Oh, good evening, Mt. Apo. The harbor lights winked at us from across the bay.










Every morning, delicious fresh fruits and coffee as we watched the fishermen row home after a long night's work.








Sister moments.......











And starfish......












Sunsets......















and some of the most beautiful and serene moments you could possibly imagine.









Each day we hopped motorcycles and toured the little villages nearby. We enjoyed local foods, scenery, and the admiring gazes of hundreds of people.

I introduced them to this little piece of heaven known as Haggimit Falls. It is a series of natural waterfalls with pools, natural slides, and natural diving boards.








There, too, we had many gazing admirers. Peachy was far bolder than I, and took many jumps off of these perilous heights. I managed one, only after many false alarms, and much effort to turn off the rational part of my brain that didn't think striking my head on a rock was a good way to die.












Here's an example of Peachy's unparalleled bravery. There is more to this story, but for now, I will desist from my attack of photos. To be continued.....