A few days on the messy side

Saturday, March 21, 2024

We have major leaf drops during dry seasons. It looks like autumn but feels like summer. Perfect.

Sometimes we can't believe we are sitting outside in March, eating in the shade of a tree (because otherwise it's too warm.) We cross the street to #Nanny's Pavilon.

I order pasta, chicken, mushrooms, and pesto for $4.25. "Welcome home," shouts the chef from the open kitchen. They've delivered meals across the street to our house when guests have ordered from them.

The strip lights W installed yesterday have bonded to the shelf. They're just the right brightness - without shadows - to see everything I need at my desk. I'll be able to sew without constantly adjusting lights or pulling fabric around table lamps.

Before Christmas, we hired someone to do some lettering at IES Bandung. That didn't work out; he never came. So today I take a 1" (2.2cm) construction brush and a can of oil paint to free-write the words. I step back between letters since I haven't bothered with lines or a size template. Are the words evenly spaced? Sort of. It looks like a Grade 1 printing lesson.

These four words define our mission at IES Bandung. I reach for the highest letters from a stepstool, and the lowest ones are just above my head. I debate if there needs to be a "We ... " at the top.  I would need a tall ladder to go higher. Also, does it need that comma after "Grow?" I left off the Oxford comma because I was spacing from right to left ; would it crowd the ampersand? 

I decide, nope to the pronoun and the comma, and we pack up. I take a quick photo so that I can adjust and correct it next week if it bothers me enough. 

I brought a raincoat along after W said, "You're not painting in that, are you?" looking at my regular clothes. "You know you're going to be full of paint." I usually am, but painting letters? It's not like I'm painting a whole wall. There's not even a drop on me. The raincoat stays in the bag.

W tosses the paintbrush away and lifts a few drops off the floor from the first letters. I had to adjust the amount of paint for the slope of the brush since I was painting from underneath.

I ghost-write a letter for a leadership team and send it off, set out things for tomorrow, and call it a day.

Sunday
It's our final "ordinary" Sunday as IC leaders. 

We take it all in: the prayer before the Gathering, the time of worship, the scripture readings, the talk, the baptism ... It is a precious time to remember how blessed we have been to serve with these people. Our last week will be a celebration of our time together.

Titik's flowers take my breath away again.

The bouquet makes our whole place look better.

We enjoy a good lunch at Homeground, sneak-paid by Kyle, brother of Kylie (who was baptized). On the walk after, we spot these beautiful flowers opening at the side of the road.

W and I putter at home, and before we know it, it's nighttime.

Monday
I don't get a call through to Mom but Kirsten and I talk for a long time. Then I get to meet with Kim online. So lifegiving...

At 8AM, I return to editing my article. My, this has dragged on, been revised and procrastinated -- but it is finally done. I'll leave it to percolate overnight, give it one more look, and send it off. First, the third refill of my tea mug. Thinking makes me thirsty.

I write a FutureMe letter (to be read in a year) about current events. It also looks back at the goodness of God over the past years. I don't want to forget his faithfulness. Ever.

Anna sends over the MOST delicious hot cross buns from #MomsBakery, which we enjoy for lunch and supper.

In late afternoon, we take all the canines for a walk. Most Muslims here are terrified of dogs. Not these 4! They pet the dogs and ask where we're going. "For a walk," we say. They tell us they are walking the dogs with us. I ask them to get their mom's permission. "No worries, we may come with you," they gleefully shout. 

Accompanied by shrieking and jubilant voices all the way, they alternate #1, #2, #3, and #4 walkers. I point out little landmarks where they can trade places. They pass it along or gaily laugh as they drop the leash so the next person has to scramble and pounce on it before the old dogs get away.  Little rascals. What fun. They smell the gardenia blooms with us and make appropriate noises: mmmmmm, enak.

"Can we walk Anton, too?" (Um, nope - though he is so distracted by their hopping, petting, and shouting that he misses two chances to lunge at a cat.) We laugh at the kids' antics. It takes us over an hour to do the 30-minute loop. Several of the kids are learning English here on Saturdays so they shout their 1, 2, 3 ... up to 10. The program is paused for the end of Ramadan but resumes in April.

It's 5:30 before we come in the gate. The dogs will sleep well tonight. They are worn out when we get home. I write the monthly newsletter to partners, finish writing, and then W and I gratefully prepare for a good night's rest.

Read more:

* When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the LORD your God. Deuteronomy 8:10

* Then I myself will gather the remnant of my flock out of all the lands where I have driven them, and I will bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful and multiply. Jeremiah 23:3

* [Jesus said,} I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. John 10:10

* Thanks be to God for his indescribable gift! 2 Corinthians 9:15

Moravian Prayer: God of the beginning and of the end, you hold every part of our lives in your hands. Wherever we are on our walk of life, we dedicate it to your service. We place our trust in you and you alone. 

In Lent, we reflect on your love for us, eternal Caregiver. You have given so much to our lives and continue to provide daily for our existence. We pause now and say, “Thank you.” Amen.