Discipleship. Learning. Restoration.

Dorcas House

Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso

(more to come. pics for now)

Learning the Landscape.

Granddaddy

Hugh David Arant:

a son of the Living God,

to which a life well-lived

upon this earthly, trodden ground

can be easily claimed.

A warrior-poet was he,

as courage and determination

met kindness in his heart,

inspiring many to live

simply, purposely, at ease.

“My cup runneth over”

would he say in the presence

of family. A faithful husband,

good father, grandfather &

great-grandfather; loved by all

not easily swayed by frivolous

distractions but steady in

his love for reading, learning,

adventuring & serving.

always time for a cup of tea.

whether around the world or home in Dallas,

it was his bride Lannie

(best-friend & lover

& sweet wife of 69 years), who always

propelled him to live life in full.

stories, for sharing and hearing:

a favorite pastime. often while holding a hot

cup of Lipton, unsweetened,

staining his mug that no one would

wash without permission, but reheated often

children’s books we read together,

once bathed after hot, sweaty days.

The “cleanest and the sweetest”

snuggled on his lap before bed;

Title, Author, Story, and a kiss goodnight

He taught me how to be a good Texan,

singing: “I’m a Tex, I’m a Tex, I’m a Texas star,

straight from the prairie

where the broncos are…”

receiving smiles of approval.

Collector: of stamps, tea-tags,

books and hugs.

A man who loved history

for its wisdom and maps for

their function (or beauty, I cannot be sure)

Every new morning carried

a song of certain routine.

Delighting in orange juice, toast

(covered crust to crust with grape jelly,

sugar-free), oatmeal and tea

Devotions with Mimmie

were never skipped or forgotten.

“The Upper Room,” Scripture, and prayer;

always and only praying

with a thankful heart, humble tone

Generous and free with the “things”

he had, aware of reality which passes

visibility, making things less important,

and relationships key.

Explore the library, take your favorite book.

Tracking rainfall,  every ¼ inch important;

savoring car mints, all the way to church.

He taught me how to shoot a

bow and arrow;

we caught lizards, explored creeks.

Our last time together was a beautiful weekend

15 months ago. We shared stories & quiet moments,

counted blessings and little delights.

Visiting with Mimmie, our dear.

Togetherness was all that mattered.

An outing to Tom Thumb, buying cantaloupe

with a twinkle in his eye,

Once home we sliced the fruit together:

Juice dripped. Sticky hands.

Happily we ate, every last bit

Granddaddy, to God I give thanks for you.

You taught me how to love the little things &

be an adventurer, always firmly

grounded in faith and truth and love.

“My cup runneth over.”

Picnicking on a Mountain

This past weekend, while up in the city of Korhogo, we ventured out to climb a small mountain – imagine 16 people hiking, crouching, bending, sliding, and climbing up in a single file line, sweat beads rolling down our faces. Humidity = transpiration. Once at the top we enjoyed the view of Korhogo and other villages below, while munching on PB&J sandwiches and popcorn. It was quite the adventure. Aside from a trail of biting driver ants, we happily avoided other surly creatures. 

Woven Houses

yellow

weavers, plucking green grass

from the ground

carried up, wound around

building homes

together in the branches,

strength in numbers.

working, yes, but not

worrying. all they need

has been provided for.

why be anxious when He

who cares for the weavers,

thinks even more for you.

New Journey[ers]

 Soooo it’s about time for an update from Cote d’Ivoire. September blew in with hurry and keeps passing through…with small pauses here and there, but not enough time for blogging. Oh, priorities. All the little spaces in a day have filled up with chatter, story-telling, and laughing with the twelve new Journeyers who arrived September 4th. To keep it brief: I love these people. What a crazy, eager, caring bunch of Jesus-followers they are. God has been pouring out grace upon me through each and every one of them. Here’s their picture, (missing Richard):

Basically since the day after their arrival they’ve been learning French, eating Ivorian food, riding motorcycle taxis, attaching pagnes, and adjusting to the climate, noises, tastes, and smells of Cote d’Ivoire. While it hasn’t been a piece of cake to go through all of this initial integration and orientation, they have courageous spirits and honest hearts as they learn to do life together -- blending their own cultures and learning a new one. Here's evidence of what's called an end-of-a-long-day-mutual-encouragement-back-rub-train.