Worthy Moments

Some of you out there might be thinking to yourself "Self, what could possible make cold showers every three days, eating beans and the root of a plant every day for both lunch and dinner, never really feeling fully clean,  having for roommates things like huge spiders whose legs can cover my entire palm, and being thousands of miles away from those I love most worth it?" Your self would probably answer something like this: "What makes every trying, dirty, I cannot eat this again moment absolutely worth it, is being gone for 3 days and when you arrive back home is being rushed by 56 of the most wonderful kids who are shouting your name and engulf you in probably the world's largest group hug." Then you would probably say "Yes, Self that does make it all worthwhile."

Rolling Like a Ce-le-brity

First order of business:10,000 cool points to whoever knows what song the title of this post is from. Another 10,000 cool points if you include the band. 500 bouns cool points if you also include my favorite song by this band.

Second order of business: I shop where the stars shop. That's right so whenever I give you advice on the voguest of African fashions you better not just brush it off because it's legit. What is that? You don't believe my keen eye for African prints and taliorship is all that keen. Well that's okay you can just get a second slightly less biased opinion from my good friends Rachel Bilson and Kristen Bell. (If you don't know who that is...Google it.) We shop at the same talior shop located in Gulu, Uganda aka nowheresville. So they would be able to tell you how impecable my taste really is.

" ...A Time to Mourn and a Time to Dance"

One of the descriptions of this blog says "A little of the good, bad, and the funny." Unfortunately this post contains the bad. Last week I found out my great aunt passed away. It was a hard week to say the least. Home sickness was getting to the point of unbearable and to want to be at my aunt's funeral but knowing God was saying no was not helping. However, peace was always present. Always. I was never without. It helped so much to know that God is always in control and that He has a reason for everything He does and it is always for our best and His glory. So for this post I am going to copy a little something I wrote up to be read at my aunt's funeral. Blessings :0)


I don't know how many of you know this but I am a former Miss America. Actually, for most of my childhood I was the reigning Miss America. At least in the eyes of one Mrs. Loretta Redus I was. For hours we would play on the steps of her front porch. I robed in her fancy night gowns and high heels; she rocking back 'n' forth on her porch swing. I would tramp up and down the stairs and across the yard as she would say in her Aunt Retta way "Here she comes Miss America!" And on and on it would go until my hunger would get the best of my vanity. Then into the house we would go for slices of bologna and cheese wrapped together and melted in the microwave. This snack was the height of sophistication, especially if sliced in little pieces and eaten with a toothpick, and was necessary to help any Miss America keep her girlish figure.

After our bellies were full, mine with bologna hers with crackers and peanut butter, it was back out to the porch to sit and swing. Back and forth. Back and forth. We would rock. Slow and steady as she would tell wonderful stories of a beautiful flying pink elephant with polka dots that was coming to take me on marvelous adventures. "Look! There do you see it! It's coming for you get ready!" She would say as she pointed up into the afternoon sky. To this day every time I am on that porch swinging on that swing I search the skies for my flying pink elephant and smile remembering sitting there with her doing the same.

Countless summer days were spent this way. I would make the long trek from out house up two hills, past a creek with its shady pecan trees, to her backdoor. There I would enter in to who knows what kind of fun. Dress up, forts, watching The Easter Parade for the millionth time; it didn't really matter as long as I was there with her. We were the best of friends. She always made me feel loved and special. The sweetest and kindest of hearts I have never known one greater than hers. She taught me the fine arts of rolling out pie crust and how to worry over the silliest of things. I wish I could write down every memory that is parading through my mind as I write this but I cannot. Even if I could the smiles, laughs and 'oh Aunt Rettas' they evoke would not be enough to say how much I loved and treasure every moment I got to spend, learn, and grow with my Aunt Retta.

Aunt Retta you are loved and missed. The only thing I have been able to think about since I heard you went home was that now you can be with real angels. I know how much you loved them. I wish I could have seen your face the first time you saw one with your brand new eyes. I love you so much and will be seeing you. Love always your Miss America.

Just Sittin' on the Front Porch Gnawin' on Sugar Cane

I had kept myself pretty busy the past few days. It was my first week teaching pre-k and the kids...well...they were kids to be sure. So there was no time to think or feel really anything more than "Is it break time yet?" It was as I laid down to rest that I was overcome by the homesickness that had been lurking deep within all the while. I had known it was there. I knew as soon as I stopped long enough to really acknowledge the feelings I would be crushed. And I was. Thank God, He is a God who saves.

As I lay there I wondered if this ache would ever go away or if I would always long for home or if this place would ever become that word to me. It is not that I was missing my physical home so much as the familiar faces that haunt the rooms and shops and streets. I found myself wishing that everyone I knew and loved would have a sudden calling to serve orphans in Africa. As I lay there deep in the throws of my pity party, my roommate walked in, "Come. I have brought sugar cane. You eat with us." So I went. And I ate.

The kids were all around and their laughter and excitement at such an unexpected treat filled the dusky evening sky. I laid my head against the cool green pillar watching them eat and soaking in the sound. Sharron (one of my girls) took my cane and said "Here I start for you." With her teeth she peeled back the tough green layer of the outer stock to expose the soft white sweet sugar. "Now you just bite" she directed me. So I bit. 

Sweetness filled my mouth as fresh laughter filled the space around me. I opened my eyes to see the kids waiting in expectation for my reaction to my first taste of sugar cane. Apparently I had done better than expected. We sat and we ate and we ate and we laughed all the while my aching ceased and a peace came that I will never forget. It was a peace that ushered in a hope. A hope that told me "Yes Ashley, this will one day be like home."

You know you are living in the African bush if...

You are suddenly awoken from a nap by the sound of African kids yelling something in their native tongue while throwing really big rocks at a snake. Which by the way was either on his way to or from your house. Lovely.

Just so everyone knows....

Hell has frozen over. The fat lady has sung. Pigs can now fly. I am now a MATH TEACHER.

Seeing a Lizard on the wall and wanting to rebuke it in Jesus’ name.

This is not ridiculous or frivolous right? I mean technically satan was a serpent and before God cursed him he had legs. So he would have looked somewhat like a lizard. So our deductive reasoning skills tell us that a lizard is basically like a cousin of satan. So i was really rebuking satan which is not ridiculous or frivolous at all.

Fisheyes and G-nut paste

You know until about a month ago I believed that the little balls in Tapioca Pudding were fish eggs. I don't know why I believed this probably because my dad told me once and my dad never tells stories. Ever. Whatever the reason I really believed those little weird balls were fish eggs. Because of my strong convictions I refused to eat Tapicoa Pudding which really isn't that big of a deal because I am pretty sure that Tapioca Pudding is used to be rejected. I mean with all the pudding flavors who really thinks "Man forget doubble chocolate fudge with real dark choclate mousse topping pudding. I want me some fo that yellowish white pudding with questionable ball like things floating in it!" Oh yeah that's the stuff!" But now that I have actually experienced a puddling like substance with actual fish (no I did not leave out the word parts) I think I would take my fake fish egg pudding any day.

G-nut paste is basically warmed up peanut butter. Casava is basically like the inside of a baked potato. Minnows are basically tiny fish that are used as bait when fishing. So eating G-nut paste with Casava is like eating a baked potato with warm peanut butter which actually isn't all that bad. Until you realize that today the G-nut paste ahs a companion. I was just sitting there enjoying my paste when I notice something hard; then a lot of little hard somethings floating around. I figured "Hey maybe I am eating the special termites they eat. That's a delicacy. Right?" But as I "fished" (haha) around I realized that it was nto termites at all...but something much much worse.

That's when BAM! Out of nowhere a little yellow eye with a little black center was staring back at me. Two thoughts went across my mind "Why is my food staring at me?" and "WHAT THE CRAP MY FOOD IS STARING AT ME!" As I calmly (which is a strictly relative term) explained to the cook -who by the way speaks about 5 words of english- that I usually don't eat food that can watch me as I eat it, she proceeded to take out the entire bag of little fish to show me that "It's okay. It's just little fish that normally in America you would buy at a bait shop but here we eat it with warm peanut butter over baked potatoes"

The moral of this story" Little darling kids with huge smiles and equally big hearts make eating warm peanut butter with tiny fishes over a baked potato toally worth it. That and an eight month suppy of Tapicoa Pudding.