Sunday, August 11, 2013

Norman Rockwell Painting

Today, as we were finishing our last bites of lunch at our picnic table on our front porch, a guy stopped his car in the middle of the road to tell us that we looked like a Norman Rockwell painting and how lovely our family is. Last week someone told Joel our place looks quaint with two rope swings hanging from the large maple tree and our big garden.

Our live"Normal Rockwell" children

Thursday, August 01, 2013


It's been a year since we left Mozambique and the thing I miss the most are the texts. In Moz it was cheaper to text than to call and anything received didn't go against our pre-paid credit. So texts were often the way we communicated with friends and colleagues. Often I would get a text from a friend that would start a conversation. Sometimes it was serious, sometimes not. Many times the texts were just little things that one of us saw that we wanted to share with someone. For a while I had an on-going conversation about how hot it was. We would write texts to the tune of "You know it's hot when...(you burn your hand on the wall, you tell your sister it's cool at 90F, the hairs on your toes stand up because they don't want to touch each other).

But the texts meant more than the silly conversations. They were a sign of friendship that cared. The friends that we got to know in Moz became family. We shared life together, faith, laughter and tears, tea and meals together. I miss getting together with friends. We haven't found friends with whom we really click like that and sometimes it just aches.

To my friends...