My Life as an African Gypsy

I had an idea in mind to post. I was waiting to give people time to post about Emilia. But then I had a moment with the Lord this morning and wanted to post about it too. So here we go... two completely unrelated bits from my life. I'll start with the not so serious, as I think it is easier to transition from there.

Since being here in Angola Jon and I have been itchy.

Seriously, there are so many bugs and so many unidentifiable bites it is crazy. I believe our bed has fleas, or something of the like. I have tried washing them. They come back. Seems to be a usual problem with the missionaries here.My husband has decided he would rather itch until he has a scab because it feels better. Not me. I try slapping. I don't want scars.

I get these weird red bites that are flat, not raised, not itchy, just red. They only stick around for a few hours. I guess it could be worse. Jon's tummy is covered in little red bites. Sometimes he goes at it, itching and itching. I tell him to stop.

The other day in the shower I noticed a tiny bug. I thought it might be a flea, but when I tried to brush it off there was no jumping. No coming off at all. I ended up having to pick the bug out with my finger nails. Sick, huh? That night it happened about 5 or 6 times. I would feel a little bite, and sure enough I had to pick another little bug out. Thankfully it has not happened again.

One night Jon and each had a light and we were examining our body, looking for bugs and bites. I had to laugh. I told Jon, "Never in America."

(Must say that just as I was writing this, I picked a little flea-ish bug off my arm. Lovely.)

Now how should I transition to Easter from this?

I've decided there is no possible nice transition. Sorry.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This morning during our regular meeting, we sang the song "Hosanna"

It got me thinking about that day when Jesus came into Jerusalem, riding on a donkey, as people threw down their cloaks, shouting 'Hosanna', preparing the way for the Lord. That is one place I wish I could have been; I can almost feel the energy of the people.

It actually says that 'the disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen...'. Interesting, huh? Never noticed the miracles part.

I also believe that people did not own many clothes back then. To throw their cloaks to the ground to be trampled by a donkey was probably more of a sacrifice than we think.

This was and is my prayer:

That this week I would throw everything important to me at the feet of Jesus. Everything I deem "worthy" in myself, I would lay it down in front of Jesus. That I would prepare the way inside of my heart for the Lord to come. And at the end of it all, I would be left crying out, "Hosanna! Hosanna in the Highest!" for all the miracles He has done.