Dear Beautiful Boy's Mom

Dear Beautiful Boy's Mom,

Today I walked into the classroom and I saw your boy on the floor. He was weeping - I could hear him from my office - and with barely a glance in your direction, I wandered over to your son on the ground. He was sprawled across the floor, his hands nestled in the crooks of his arms, and his body was shaking with every cry. My hand rubbed his back, and I quietly asked him what was wrong. He didn't answer me; he just cried harder, and I insisted he tell me what had happened. But he was too focussed on his cries to respond.

I learned from the other students that you had beaten him. I don't know what he did wrong, and I don't know if he was rude to you or he hurt another student or if he interrupted you as you were speaking. All I know is that you had deemed his actions worthy of physical pain. And as I watched his tears, and his body shake, all I wanted to do was gather him in my arms so that as my heart broke I could hold his shaking body close. But instead I walked away, as my heart beat desperately in my chest and as I felt your eyes follow me across the room.

I wish I could feel what you feel when you take your hand and you force it across his body. (But then again, maybe I don't). I guess what I mean is I just really wish I could understand. 

Because I see this boy, this son of yours, as beautiful. Every part of him as valuable, even his tears. And I just really find it hard to see how, even in the name of discipline, this beating of him teaches him value. How it teaches him that you love him. How it teaches him an understanding of why his behaviour was wrong.

Because doesn't it just teach him to fear your hand?

I don't claim to know much, and I don't claim to know what it's like to be a mom. You have faced more than your fair share of challenges in your life and I admire the way you still carry a smile on your face and your head held high. I don't want to quote you all the textbooks and research and papers I've read on the topic, because in the end none of that really matters if I'm not willing to share my heart.

But can I just ask you one question? That's all, and I'll end the letter there. Can you look into his eyes? For a moment just look into his eyes, and see him as the Child of God that he is. Can you see him as he was knit together, the Creator's fingers taking careful measures to instil that he was perfectly created? And then in those moments, the moments where he makes you so angry you raise your hand or your fist or a cane - can you just remember that image? 

Because my heart's just breaking here, tonight, for him, for you, for me. Because I walked away and felt so helpless, yet there was something inside of me that was insistent I do something, anything. Even just penning this letter.

So with love and a breaking heart,

Your Son's Teacher

Entering the Homestretch

Four days. That's all I have left here in Asamankese.

From last Wednesday to Sunday were spent in bed, and time seemed to stretch on endlessly. I watched movies, I read, I listened to sermons but I could do little else besides lay in bed. Finally my backpain started to lift and today I am feeling almost back to 100%, praise the Lord! But now that I'm up and at 'em again, the next few days already seem like a blur.

This is what they cook on outside.

I came home from school today, and sat with Auntie Jo and the boys outside while they made dinner, and then wandered around the compound taking pictures and taking in sights and sounds. I'm trying to hold every moment as precious, from the feeling of the breeze just before it rains to the sound of Auntie Jo chattering to the boys. I'm lingering a little longer to on the roof or the courtyard, committing every hill and building and tree to memory. I'm holding each laugh and conversation close to my heart, because I know in a short time they will be settled in my soul, a distant memory.

Seth: "Get a picture of my Asamankese dimple!"

I'm grateful for this place. For what I've learned and all I've seen. I'm grateful for the conversations that have challenged who I am and how I see others. I'm grateful for the feeling of hands cupping a student's face, for the sound of a giggle erupting in a quiet classroom (but don't tell my students' that!).

Beautiful Belinda!

This place, this time here, has shaped my heart and soul in more ways than I'll ever count. No matter how hard it has been at times, I am going to hold onto that. I know for sure, as I board the plane and arrive in a snowy country, I am not the same person that left, and my heart is full of gratitude for that tonight.

Left our mark on the roof.

See you all very soon ... on the other side of the ocean!

Much love,

Angie

"An adventurous life does not necessarily mean climbing mountains, swimming with sharks or jumping off cliffs. It means risking yourself by leaving a little piece of you behind in all those you meet along the way."

Thoughts from Bed

Today I found myself in bed all. day. long. With an aching back (and no reason why). I attempted to go to school, and that lasted about 45 minutes until the Rita graciously offered to cover classes for me. So I hailed a taxi and came home to a welcoming bed.

I've watched multiple episodes of Everwood.

I've sung out the window to myself.

I've played games on my iPhone.

I've read.

I might be going a little stir-crazy.

I don't like being sick, and most of all, I don't like being sick when I am here for only nine more days. I just want to be up, and I want to be able to walk without walking like I'm 90 years old. But.

In saying that, even being sick and bedridden I got to see some beauty come out of it, too.

Because today I was shown the kindness of the Ghanaian family I've found here. All of the people I work with at the school - Dora, Rita, Evans, Ebenezer, and Kujo - all showed up after school to check on me and see how I was doing. Smart called me and texted to make sure I was okay. Felicia, the other teacher, phoned me to see how I was doing. Belinda kept me company, helped me apply ointment, and generally reassured me that I wasn't going crazy being cooped up in the house. Auntie Jo made sure to stop in and see how I was. I was just incredibly touched that all of these beautiful people wanted to make sure I was doing okay - and went as far as coming to visit me the very first day I'm home sick.

I think it just reminded me that on days like today to be thankful for the family we make wherever we go, even if they're not blood related.

It reminded me how the kindness of others can go along way in making us feel a bit better.

And it encouraged me to do the same to everyone in my life.

{So thank you, my Ghanaian family!}

Much love,

Angie

P.S. Prayers are SO appreciated that this backpain will go far, far away from me!! :)

Thankful Lists

This past Saturday, Belinda and I left Kylie and Lauren at the front of the Kotoka Airport in Accra. A few tears were shed, many hugs were exchanged, and we headed home to an eerily quiet house. I spent the day reflecting yesterday; cleaning (as it seems I tend to do when I feel like I am mentally cluttered), and reading the Word and praying.

My beautiful African sisters.

It's funny how we always begin something knowing that it will some day end, knowing that with every hello there will inevitably be a goodbye. I came here knowing someday I would leave, and the girls arrived and I knew that I would eventually be leaving them at the airport. Yet, even in the saying of goodbyes, the memories that led up to that point make every goodbye worth it. So even though I miss my lovely African sisters, I am choosing instead to be thankful, even in a quiet and empty house! So here are a few things I am thankful for today:

1) Christmas music. It makes writing report cards a little more bearable.

2) Cockroaches. At first glance, I know they are atrocious and disgusting, but Friday night we had the most hilarious half an hour trying to kill the monstrocity on my bedroom wall. It involved a shoe, a 'back up' book, and Celtic music ... someday you'll need to see the video. I will probably laugh for years to come at the memory!

3) Language barriers. Today, a few kids I met on a walk came by to hang out. We can't speak to each other very well, and that's really hard. But it makes you be creative ... it makes you tickle them more. It makes you make funny faces some more. It makes you realize that even if you can't speak, presence is so much more important.

4) Tears. Because you know what? They are precious to Him. He catches every one in a bottle. He is near to the brokenhearted. He calls those who mourn blessed for they will be comforted! And yet we push away tears, and we tell kids to stop crying when maybe we should be telling them to see those tears as precious.

5) Mangoes. Seriously, there's no better fruit. Honestly. I will write about mangoes and my love for them until the day I die, probably.

6) Sore knees. I'm not good at being disciplined and working out, but Kylie and Lauren were the best encouragers and I worked out with them for the past few weeks. And then I hurt my knees doing one too many squats - but you know what? I'm proud of those sore knees. I'm proud that I was trying my hardest! And I will take my sore knees as a reminder to work hard, but know my limits, too.

7) Clingy students. Even though there have literally been moments when I've run away from kids who won't let me go - I know that I will miss those moments. Clingy kids remind me to love just a little bit more, to hold onto them just a little bit longer, to kiss away their tears, because maybe there's a reason they are clinging to you so tightly.

8) The ability to write. I don't think I ever really thought about how blessed I am to be able to read and write. But being here in Africa has made me realize just how much I love writing, and I think the thing I love about writing is that it lets me see beauty in brokenness. It lets me work through things. It let's me make the most ordinary, mundane experience become beautiful. And it lets me take my story and wrestle with it, and see that even in the broken cracks His redemptive fingerprints are still there.

Those are just a few of the things I am thankful for today. What are you thankful for?

Much love,

Angie