Sunday afternoon we spent visiting Clarisse’s family, including her parents who moved back to Gamboula this January after retiring from the pastorate. In the evening the kids performed a concert for us with songs and bible verses they had each memorized. After the children’s concert we girls sang songs of parting and then headed outside for music and dancing with all the Nguebe teenagers. Half of Clarisse’s family, including her mom and dad and 4 siblings all live on the same concession. On any given day there are some 35 Nguebe’s in one place. We had a great time just laughing and egging each other on. We escorted Vicki back to the house for a good night’s sleep and I returned to Clarisse’s house to spend the night there. We stayed outside under a full moon until nearly 1:00am, dancing, listening to music and ended with a time of prayer with some of the older kids, Eloi and Clarisse. We piled into her bed and then sat up talking for another long while with Nadege before finally falling asleep. We were up at 4:30 Monday morning in order to get the last minute things packed and to be ready for the truck that was leaving at 6:00am sharp. Our parting was filled with sobbing, clinging to one another until the last minute. It was a parting of sweet sorrow as leaving Clarisse meant coming back to Darren.
I have said it before and I think it is worth repeating. Living and working in the CAR is no great physical sacrifice for Darren or I. On the contrary, we love living and working in the CAR. Despite the daily irritations, the constant threat of bandits, and the relative financial insecurity that comes with living in Central Africa, we love it. I love the people, I love travelling around visiting new people, picking up new languages, constantly being challenged. Where the real sacrifice comes in are the wounds to the heart. Even when you think the wounds have healed, the scars remain and scars remain tender for a long time. It’s not just the wounds from being disappointed by people and the church, nor from the pain and sorrow that are in your face every day (like 1 year old twins that weigh 3 kg each), but even more so for me right now are the wounds from having to say good-bye. Leaving one family behind for another. I don’ think it ever gets easy, and if it ever did I think it would be a bad thing. This is the sacrifice we make, this is taking up our cross and following Him, this is allowing ourselves to love and be loved—it involves risking being wounded, knowing that the scars will always remain tender.
The struggle is learning to be content in all things, (read: in all the places that we work and live), yet living with the longing to be near those that we love. Don’t mistake me by thinking it is only Clarisse that I feel torn leaving, as there are others who I love dearly and enjoy my time and conversations with. She is, however, my sister and friend.
Okay, more thoughts to come later.
I have said it before and I think it is worth repeating. Living and working in the CAR is no great physical sacrifice for Darren or I. On the contrary, we love living and working in the CAR. Despite the daily irritations, the constant threat of bandits, and the relative financial insecurity that comes with living in Central Africa, we love it. I love the people, I love travelling around visiting new people, picking up new languages, constantly being challenged. Where the real sacrifice comes in are the wounds to the heart. Even when you think the wounds have healed, the scars remain and scars remain tender for a long time. It’s not just the wounds from being disappointed by people and the church, nor from the pain and sorrow that are in your face every day (like 1 year old twins that weigh 3 kg each), but even more so for me right now are the wounds from having to say good-bye. Leaving one family behind for another. I don’ think it ever gets easy, and if it ever did I think it would be a bad thing. This is the sacrifice we make, this is taking up our cross and following Him, this is allowing ourselves to love and be loved—it involves risking being wounded, knowing that the scars will always remain tender.
The struggle is learning to be content in all things, (read: in all the places that we work and live), yet living with the longing to be near those that we love. Don’t mistake me by thinking it is only Clarisse that I feel torn leaving, as there are others who I love dearly and enjoy my time and conversations with. She is, however, my sister and friend.
Okay, more thoughts to come later.
Clarisse and I-Yaya and Gambe
Dr. WANE Emmanuel and his new computer.
Mr. Bangui! Calvin, our student in Bangui who is finishing grade 11 this year with hopes of graduating high school next year. Thanks to help from our donors, Calvin is able to attend private school this year while public school students are locked out of their schoola because their teachers haven't been paid in months. It is a tragedy.
Martino. That is his name and he is the baby I had the privilege of witnessing enter the world.
