in a flash

So I just realised that I haven't blogged since Kiraua turned six months and now he's almost a year old. Needless to say, the last six months have gone by in a flash. 

Kiraua learned to push himself up.

Then he got his first hair cut.

Got his first Sunday Shirt.

Learnt all about Mud.

And learnt how to crawl.

Meanwhile, Theresa attended a wedding and so her imaginative play took that as its focus for a while. 

She's been doing school with me too in the mornings and now can write numbers (she loves that 6 is an upside down 9, and absolutely delights in squiggling an 8), she's learned about countries and maps, starred in a movie (Jonah: Obey Straightaway),  soaked up Shirley Hugh's lovely stories and sits at her desk and draws delightful pictures of everyone.

She loves climbing into Kiraua's cot and playing with him or reading to him.

And as much as there are little squabbles and the usual sibling rivalry, this brother and sister love each other. 

6 months old today

My little Kiraua is six months old today. 

Jair's looking forward to doing weights with him: 

He's never far away from arms wanting to give him a cuddle

And I don't know who's happier out of the girls - mummy or his big sister.

In any case, we all love him to bits and he's getting so many kisses and cuddles.

introducing our new son...

Learning to Trust

I had a bit of a crisis over the weekend. A personal crisis of faith. You see I've been waiting and praying for an addition to our family for so long. I love my daughter so much, but if you don't feel your family is complete, it still hurts. And it hurts when your daughter is alone when you want her to have brothers and sisters around her. Some people when they're 9 months pregnant harp on about how they can't wait to meet this baby, this baby growing under their heart. Well, the my "pregnancy" has been a whole lot longer than 9 months and I so long to meet a baby, who hasn't been growing under my heart but in my heart.

And then on Saturday, it all got a bit much. The waiting. The waiting for something you don't even know will happen. In exasperation I said to God, "fine. I can't hold onto hope when it hurts so much. I'm not going to pray anymore. I'm not going to hope anymore. I can't handle that anymore."

And it was in that really low point that God was finally able to teach me something important. I was finally humbled. Finally listening. He taught me on Sunday that trusting Him meant letting go of my plan for my life, my dreams, my desires, my hopes and letting Him bring about His plan for my life, His dreams, His desires, His hopes. When the Bible talks about fulfilling the plans for us, the good plans etc etc as we so often hear about, it's not talking about my plans (doh!!) but God's plans, and evidently His plans are rather different than mine.

It's odd writing this and looking at it in black on white. It's looks so clinical. So formulated. But believe me it was such a moment to finally learn what trusting in God actually means. To say, "ok, God. I'll throw my plans out, and we'll go back to the real game plan for my life. Your plan. Whatever it is. Help me to accept it. Change my desires so that they are Your desires for my life." That decision to trust, to close my eyes and free fall in His strong loving arms, was such a real, with-all-my-heart moment.

So on Monday, I was beginning to think, Ok, perhaps God's plan doesn't include anymore children. That is ok. It really is. Because ultimately, I want God's plan for my life.

beautiful mountains

On Monday night I got a phone call from a counsellor passing on news from the social welfare that there is a baby up for adoption and we have been identified as prospective parents.

On Tuesday I rang the social worker.

On Wednesday I rang the guardian to talk about the adoption with him.

On Thursday I wondered how to prepare for a baby in a day.

On Friday, I am flying to Gizo to pick up our son.

Watch this space!

Something beautiful

This morning in my garden I found this:

These beautiful flowers blossomed just on the right day to cheer me up...

pushing through the mud. 

me or them?

flood

So, I just thought I'd upload some photos of the flood. I won't write much about it - don't really have much time in the cleanup!

Thursday night - this is the height of waters in our back yard. The water was rushing through underneath a fence near the washing line and running under our house.

In the back of the photo is the generator shed. Amazingly, the generator didn't get water in it so we still have power. What a blessing!

Thursday night looking on our front car port. Oops! Forgot to move the Landrover before the waters rose. Amazingly, it started the next day. 

Friday morning: The water receeded over night and this is the water mark on our washing that was left on the line! Eek. Embarrasingly, the washing is still hanging there - half muddied! 

Friday afternoon - for quite a few hours the water just flowed through the base but didn't get any higher than this. 

Well, you certainly couldn't try breaking the no parking sign now. Unless you were in a boat. That's a good point...

For those of you who knew what the Lungga river used to look like, this is it now. It's probably about a third wider than it used to be - has taken out a lot of houses in Burns Creek - on the left of the photo.

Sunday after church we went into town and had a look at the devastation. Apart from seeing a 20 second thing on CNN on Saturday night we really had no idea how bad it was in town since we were stuck on the base. This is where the Chinatown bridge used to be.

Crazy. There are so few houses here now where it used to be a bustling, crowded village.

It was crazy going into Honiara on Sunday and seeing that much of Honiara is normal. There are nice palm trees lining the road. Green fields. Shops that don't have mud slopping up the paths. For the first time I actually think Honiara is clean - because where we are is so dirty.

The weeks preceding the flood in my Bible reading I kept coming across verses that were about being steadfast and endurance. 

Hebrews 12:2 "Fixing our eye on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

James 1:2-3 "Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness."

So I have that in my mind. It's pretty disheartening thinking about the clean up - not only at SWIM but throughout Honiara. This flood has resulted in homelessness, it will no doubt bring about shortages of food, of fuel as the town is split in two. As people stay in hopeless situations, living with grief, poverty, in unsanitary conditions, disease will probably spread. And the country is already fairly unstable politically. Some people already were discontented. So I can only imagine what the repercussions of this flood are going to be for this city. 

But for those of us that believe, we need to endure. Be steadfast. "And let steadfastness have its perfect result, so that you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing." James 1:4

Ironing

Today I find myself ironing towels. 

Towels?

Yes. Because it's the rainy season and in the rainy season it's just too damp for anything to dry, even if it is 26 degrees celsius. I seem to recall that in NZ, in winter, I would put damp washing in the hot water cupboard, or in front of the fire on a clothes horse. Some people use dryers. But we don't have a fire here, nor do we have a hot water cupboard, or hot water to put in it or a dryer. 

So if I don't want my towels to mould away in the cupboard, because of lingering dampness, I've heard that you're supposed to iron them. 

Please note. This is in no way an advertisement for Black&Decker Light 'n Easy irons. In fact, this particular iron burns EVERYTHING if it is on the cotton setting. You can only have it really low if you don't want to burn anything. Which means:

a) a lot of my clothes have burn marks on them 

b) a lot of my clothes that need ironing, never really get all the wrinkles ironed out, because you don't get that far with your wrinkles ironing cottons on a polyester heat.

Anyway, while the generator was on (you need LOTS of power to run an iron) and there was something nice and reminiscent about winter, with the iron, the warmth of the towel, the bright light in a grey room.

Until I found myself sweating. That's right, it is still 26 degrees, after all.

      The rainy season never seems to stay with us long in the Solomons. January definitely at some point it comes, but the other months (Nov to April) it seems a bit elusive. But I like the rainy season.

 It means watching the drops run off the gutterless roofs. You can almost foster the feeling of curling up with a book and a hot chocolate. You can wear tee-shirts and some people even wear socks. You have to dash when you go outside. Frogs swim in puddles. 

Pussy cats leave footprints outside your door. 

The rainy season is a nice break from the relentless heat of the rest of the year. Everything is green and fresh and vibrant. 

And, like all seasons, it's only here for a season.