My Own Bed – My Own Bathroom

After over 24 hours of travel (19.5 in the air) we have arrived safely home. Actually, we’ve been home for two days but I’m just now coherant enough to write again.

I can’t tell you how good it is to be home. I was so excited to crawl into my own bed on Tuesday night. Even John’s snoring couldn’t keep me awake. And, in the middle of the night, when I got up to go to the bathroom, it struck me that I didn’t need to first check the floor to be sure there weren’t any undesirable critters waiting for my foot to land on them. Oh, that was a good feeling.

I did learn a very important thing in Africa. I’ve always believed that if God leads you to something, He’ll give you the grace to get through it. I mentioned before we left how much I like my creature comforts and how I didn’t think our accommodations would be as nice as I generally prefer. I was correct in my assumption. The place that we stayed for the longest stretch of time was a place that most of the women started referring to as Camp Granada. It was hot, humid, not particularly clean, and there were plenty of spiders and ants to make summer camp complete. In the girl’s dorm (where thankfully, I didn’t have to sleep) they even had toads visit on a regular basis. What amazed me was that I didn’t totally freak out over such conditions. I believe that was only possible due to God’s grace for the moment.

I must confess that when we first arrived at “Camp Granada” I did have a meltdown moment. Our original room was adjacent to the girl’s dorm and their toad friends seemed to want to greet us when we arrived. But, due to what I truly believe was a God orchestrated event, our room was changed. It was comparable to being moved from the coach section to first class on the airplane. You’re still stuck inside the plane, but it’s just enough better to keep you from going nuts. Our room change was truly a huge step up in accommodations and I totally believe that it was God’s grace at work.

The other great thing that happened in Africa, is my being rather picky in the food department totally paid off for me. We had some very interesting meals, the most challenging of which was one we ate the first day at the orphan care area. We’re not totally sure that this was the cause of intestinal illness for about half of our team, but it seems the likely culprit. Fortunately for me, I only had very small servings of about half of the food. John ate more than I did but I’ve always believed that he has an iron stomach (as opposed to Abs of Steel). Neither of us got sick and for that we are both most grateful.