Of a Newfound Guilty Pleasure

So, I have a confession to make.

For the past few weeks, I've been listening to a lot of . . . country music. I know. You don't even need to say anything for me to electronically feel the judgment pouring in waves from your disbelieving face as you read this.

It started out innocently enough. I put a song by Faith Hill on my "Songs for HIM" mix (the song was, "There is Coming a Day." Really powerful). And then I started to listen to more Faith Hill.

And then that somehow snowballed into me frequently listening to Dixie Chicks, Lady Antebellum (which is not so bad), Tim McGraw, Randy Montana, Keith Urban, and even (dare I even mention? I must) Shania Twain.

There's just something so . . . American. . . about country music. Hip-hop is duplicated in Nigeria; rock is all over; alternative, folk, jazz - they are all common elsewhere. But not country music. Country music has such great connotations of America and open sky and rolling fields and summer barbecues, that I'm really craving that a lot right now.

Right about now you may be wondering how long you have to keep up this now shambles of a friendship with me, but I want you to know - I still enjoy just about every other genre of music. I can hide my newfound respect for country music while around you.

Of Easter, Benin, and Other Tid-Bits

I have evidently been a very poor blogger lately. I can't believe how quickly time seems to be going. It's been nearly a month since my last post, and I feel as though it's only been days.

Things to catch up on:

1. My fifth graders and I completed Media-Free Week where we watched no TV or movies, did not go online at all, and did not use the Internet. It was a lot more challenging to do here than it would have been in the States, but I still "survived."

2. We have had elections here in Nigeria, which have been . . . interesting. No violence here (although there was some in the North), but the entire country is on lockdown during the election dates (we have had three election dates so far. One more remains). That means no driving anywhere, and the borders are shut down as well. Remember this for later on.

3. This coming weekend, I am going to be hosting my 5th graders at my home for a 5th grade feast. We have been learning about instructional writing. Because the instructions are for cooking something, we are ending with a feast. Everyone will be bringing a dish, and we are going to have a lot of fun!

4. Today is Easter. This is one of the strangest Easters I have ever had, in that it doesn't feel at all like it usually does. Even last year when I was here, I enjoyed going to Church and then having a decent lunch together. We didn't get to Church today (because of what happened yesterday), and I didn't really get to celebrate Good Friday either. Like I said, just . . . strange. I read some of Pastor Piper's poems and that helped a little. Anways, enough about this. You don't need to hear about my atrophying feelings and traditions.

5. We have 5 days off here. Last Friday to this Tuesday. Kyle and I had been planning on spending Friday-Monday in Benin and Togo. Unfortunately, as we found out once we got to Benin, the border would be closed on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday (for Easter, then Nigerian elections). Hooray. So we spent all that money on the Benin visa and the return visa for Nigeria, only to discover that we could only spend 24 hours in the country. We spent 8.5 hours getting there on Friday, and 7 hours getting home yesterday (Saturday). Suffice it to say that I was not too thrilled about it all. More on the good parts of Benin to come in a separate post.

In this I am staggered

How?
How can His heart not be shattered to countless slivers of broken emotion?
How can He stand to see the unmitigated sorrow of just one person?
How can He bear to know the daily miseries of every. single. person on this earth?

I see a glimpse of one person's heartache,
                and it saddens me for an hour.
A longer look
                and I am changed for the day.
A serious examination
                and I am no longer just thinking about if for
                          a day,
                          a week,
                          a month,
                but for years afterward.

How does God do it?

Of all the amazing
                and beautiful
                       and impossible
                              and inspiring
           things that God does,
this, perhaps, is the most staggering to me:
           that he can stand the whole tsunamic force of human emotion and sin;
           that he does not stop pouring himself out
                        even though he sees
                        the utter ruinous depths of our hearts;
            that He does not simply
                       set the Earth spinning,

                                              let it go,

                                    and let it burn. 


But he gives joy.


                     life.

                     love.

                     peace.

                     breath.
                      
                     comfort.

                     forgiveness.

                     companionship.

                     a never-ending flow of things we need.

In Which a Student Is a Victim of Thievery

If you have ever thought to yourself, "I wonder how to make a room full of 5th grade boys go crazy," then I have an answer for you: teach them about puberty.

That's right. It's puberty education time here at ACA, so I am teaching the 5th and 6th grade boys about their changing bodies. Easily one of the most difficult subjects I've had to teach yet, not because of embarrassment, but because classroom management needs to be 300 times more firm.

I told the students that they didn't need to take any notes. A few decided that they wanted to anyways. One boy had his notes on his desk, when another student reached over and grabbed them. His response?
"HEY!!! Give me back my puberty!!!"

I laughed pretty hard.

A Fable

The Donkey and His Master

Long ago, in the jungles of Africa, there lived a donkey. This donkey worked very hard to make sure that his master's children always had enough to eat. He cared very much about the master's children and tried to do everything he could to ensure that their futures would be bright and wonderful. He went into the bush each day to find the best fruits and vegetables for their table. He carried heavy loads of grain and wood so that the children could have the finest bread. He carried gallons of water from the river so that they would have clean clothes and clean bodies. He worked hard every day. Every night, he loved giving the children rides so that they could see places that they had never been and do things that they had never done.

Even so, his master wasn't happy with him. "Why do you make so many journeys each day?" he asked. "You could bring back more food and water if you add more to every load." So the donkey added more food to each load. He found bigger buckets and carried more water. He was very tired at the end of the day, but he knew that he was helping his children, so that made all of the exhaustion worth it. He still gave the children rides upon his back, but they could not go as far as they had before for the donkey was too tired.

One day, his master came back to him. "Why are you so messy? You spill water when you walk and you scatter grain with each step?" So the donkey was more careful, but he could not walk as fast. In the end, though, he spilled less and kept the yard clean. "Now you are not bringing as much food as before!" cried the master. "Oh, you silly donkey! Why can't you do anything right?"

The donkey knew that he could only try harder, even though he was beginning to suspect that the master was not being just. So he tried harder. He carried even MORE on his back with each load, walked slowly, and did not spill.

When the donkey lay his head down at night, he couldn't even think about giving the children rides. One night, several of the children came to him saying, "Why don't you give us rides anymore? We used to do new things together. We used to see new places together. But now all you do is sleep." The donkey felt bad that he had stopped giving rides to the children, so he decided to start again the next day.

The next morning, as the sun was rising, the master came to wake the donkey. "Wake up, donkey. It's time for you to work." The donkey did not move. "Donkey. Get up," the master said, this time with a kick. The donkey shifted its head slowly. He tried to stand, but he did not think he had the energy to raise his body. "We have a party today. You will need to bring twice the amount of food that you usually do. If you do not, none of the children will have any food to eat." This gave the donkey a small burst of energy. But his energy did not last long. He had brought back as much food as he could and as much water as he could, but he could not carry any more. His muscles were shaking and he felt ill. But he continued to work as hard as he could.

As the sun was setting, the donkey brought one more load. The master said, "You're late. We will not have enough food now to feed the children today. It is your fault that the children will go hungry."

Just then, the children came to the donkey and said, "Oh, donkey, we asked you to carry us on your shoulders that we may see the world, but you have still have not done as we asked. It's not fair, donkey!"

This was too much for the donkey. He collapsed in a heap on the ground. The children looked at the donkey, then turned in to the house, sad that the donkey would not do as they asked. The master looked scornfully at the donkey and said, "Oh, donkey. You don't know what it's like to run a house here. You think that you work hard? You should see what I do. Because you did not bring enough food today, you will go without food for the next week. Find it yourself."

The donkey could not move. He could not think properly. His body was spent and his spirit was crushed. He did not move even though the rains poured on him and he realized that he would not be able to get up again.

He woke late in the morning. The master and the master's children ignored him laying there. He got sick from staying in the rain. The days passed and the donkey could not move. His muscles would not work. His will had been broken.

When the sun rose the next day, its rays cast their light upon the form of the donkey. One of the children came from the door and walked over to the donkey. She pushed the donkey's head with a stick. When there was no reaction, she gave the donkey a look of disgust and walked back into the house.