We quietly seated ourselves in the car and began making our way to the hospital for baby’s weekly checkup, heart monitoring and my blood work. This had become routine, only now, we had reached just over the 38 weeks gestation mark.
38 weeks. I’d never had my child develop in me this long before. What a milestone! 
I’ll never forget that day. We were both focused on the road, lost in our thoughts, when all of a sudden, Stephen looked at me and broke the silence.


« We are excited about this baby. »


It wasn't a question. It also didn't sound like a statement. He was simply voicing his thoughts, waiting for my confirmation.


« Yes, we are. »


I said it simply. With a smile, but without hint of excitement or change of tone. It was a fact and I had confirmed what he had hoped we were both thinking but had both seemingly been at a loss of words to discuss. I instantly felt guilty for my lack of enthusiasm in my response, but quickly reminded myself «  it has been this way this entire pregnancy ».
Here we were, going about our daily business, working so hard to avoid being hurt and shielding our hearts from being broken once again. We did this so much that we had reached the point of needing to voice our thoughts to one another. That is how we continually reassure ourselves about our happiness for this new child’s upcoming arrival.


How could this beautiful new life- this answer to so many’s prayers, including our own- bring about so many old emotions of grief and reminders of pain. Why were our thoughts crowded with unending memories of difficult nights, weeping mornings and long, dark days? Why were we so hesitant to demonstrate love or signs of attachment when considering or talking about this child in my womb? Why weren’t we the bubbly, happy parents-to-be we had once been?


Death. Fear. Selfishness.
Those were the answers to our many « why’s .»


Death shook us up when we saw our son walk through it’s shadowy valley.
Fear overcame our thoughts since we knew that even with our greatest efforts, we couldn’t be in control of life itself.
Selfishness rooted itself in our hearts as we realized that we wanted God’s help with this pregnancy but didn't want Him to allow anything to happen that would be unpleasant for us.
We wanted to bring God glory, but we selfishly wanted to do it on our own terms and dictate our own preferable outcome.


The day we found out we were blessed to be expecting another child, we trusted Him fully with our little girl’s life and acknowledge. As He had been before, God was still in complete control. We quickly reminded ourselves that His plans are not always our plans. We knew she was a gift from Him, but we lived in fear that He would take her back.
Im ashamed to admit these thoughts. I wish I knew how to better handle the burden we have been given to bear and to have let it affect what should have been another joyful time in our life, preparing for a child’s arrival.


As « second » first-time parents, we saw ourselves going though the « steps » of pregnancy like a checklist. We knew why I was sick and how to handle it. We looked at what we already had in stock and didn't need to buy. We already knew at exactly what weeks we needed to go see the doctor. We told family the news. We told friends the news. We made plans for the birth. We took monthly belly pictures. It was just like reliving a part of our life we were hesitant to relive.
Every step of the way, we prayed God would allow us to keep this child and keep her healthy. We begged Him. Our family begged Him. Our friends begged Him.
The further the pregnancy progressed, the more we thanked God for allowing us to keep the child, and yet, the more we feared what had previously happened and missed our son. We were excited about the day we would meet her face to face, yet we were terrified of what events that day may bring.
We spent most of the pregnancy going to baby stores, not buy anything, but simply looking at each other and saying « Well, we’ll come back and get this book/carseat/toy/outfit/etc. after she is born »
I’d feel her moving and immediately would ask God not to let that be her last kick, roll or hiccup.
We’d see her on sonograms and try not to get overly attached, continually shielding our hearts.


We encouraged one another to trust God and begged Him on behalf of our daughter.
Yet, in the intimacy of our home, we struggled to live out our faith and trust God concerning this child.
Every day was a fresh start; a renewal of our trust in God. Some days were more difficult than other. 
We were scarred and we were scared.


Through all of this, God helped us.
At the end of certain days, when we were weary and worried, He would always put our hearts to rest. He’d remind us that even through dark valleys, He is there and He is good. 
He was there to comfort us when Nathan died. He was as good to us then as He presently was. He hadn't changed. He was in complete control of our life and of our baby’s life, no matter how long or short that life was meant to be.
As difficult as it may be to understand and after all we had previously gone through, we were comforted. 


The birth day came, and although a bit unnerved about the entire process, we were at peace with whatever the outcome would be. We were mentally prepared to grieve or celebrate, but we wouldn't focus on any of that until baby’s arrival.
And came, she did! 
I could never justly explain to you the agony and anticipation found in the minute moment of waiting to hear your child cry for the first time. After experiencing the loss of a child, it is difficult to describe that decisive moment between as you are preparing to grieve or be overtaken by joy.
But what i can explain is the tremendous relief and gladness we experienced when she did cry.
We were immediately awestruck. We knew she was alive. We saw her moving. We heard her wonderful voice. We felt the warmth of her body.
God had answered our prayers and decided to let us keep her. We could open our hearts fully to her without fearing her immediate death. The weight of the agony we experienced throughout the entire pregnancy was finally lifted away. She was alive and she was healthy- what more could we ever ask for? We held her, stared at her, prayed for her, thanked God for her, and contemplated how good God was to let us experience such joy. 
Many people refer to these miraculous children as rainbow babies. I could not find a better term for them. A beautiful rainbow after a treacherous storm. A comfort. A new beginning.


Thank you Lord for this precious blessing. For this heritage. For such a sweet gift.


If you know anyone who has lost a child and is expecting again, remember to pray for them. Keep encouraging them and seek out ways to help calm their fears. Understand that their lack of talking about the baby may be rooted in hesitancy, not a lack of joy. They will likely smile with you and tell you how happy they are about this little life forming inside them, but will likely be struggling with old memories, fearing that the past may become another present reality. Keep praying for them. Keep encouraging them. Keep trying to be understanding.






"Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward"
-Psalm 127:3

-Julie

“But he answered and said, It is written, Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” - Matthew 4:4

    -“Hello Sir, I’ve come to share God’s word with you.”
    -“You need to feed me before i can listen to God’s word. If my stomach is empty, I cannot listen well, but if my stomach is full, I can listen well.”

Is it true? Does hunger keep our ears from fully functioning? Or is it just another excuse which demonstrates who our God really is? Can God’s power not work when hunger is present?
Jesus is very clear: we cannot have two masters (Matthew 6:24; Luke 16:13).

Quite often, the “my belly before God” excuses is mentioned to fulfill a personal interest. 
One might say to himself: “Playing the victim will help me to gain pity from people.”
This reveals a lack of spirituality. As we speak with someone, we can quickly assess who their God is: their belly or the creator God.
Realistically, the physical need should push us to ask help from God.

    -“The rich will be the only ones in God’s kingdom.”
    -“Why?”
    -“Because they have money to give, but the poor do not.”

Human reasoning is evidently contrary to God’s reasoning. Jesus said: “Verily I say unto you, That a rich man shall hardly enter into the kingdom of heaven. And again I say unto you, It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:23-24).

Why is it more difficult for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven? The answer is simple: He has a hard time realizing his need for God because he is not physically in need as are the poor. Many rich men do not think they need to trust God when their trust is already placed in their bank account. In this way, the rich man sees no reason to trust in God or to pursue a divine relationship. On the contrary, the poor man who lives in need realizes more easily his spiritual need because his physical need is undeniable. It is possible for a poor man to look to his physical needs, his belly, instead of looking to God, just as it is possible for a rich man to look to God instead of his own riches.

The problem is not the lack of money in the bank account, but the lack of faith in God. A man is not justified before God because of his religious or social accomplishments, but rather by his faith in Christ. We are all faced with a decision. We must choose who is going to be our master. If our belly has the priority, God has become less important. If God has the priority, our belly has become less important.

Philippians 3:19 gives us a strong description concerning those who are the enemies of Jesus Christ. The Bible says, “Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things.”

Our biggest enemy is ourselves. Our belly represents our natural desires. The law of the jungle applies to him whose belly is before God: “Me first, others second.” He that is not with God is against God. He that is for his belly is against God.

    -“But we need to eat to survive on earth!”
    -“Yes, and we need God in order to survive after our time on earth”

The spiritual need is the most important, yet the most neglected need. In Luke 16, Jesus tells the true story of Lazarus and the rich man. The rich man had all he ever needed and lazarus was in need his whole life. Finally, both men died. Lazarus was comforted in paradise while the rich man found himself tormented in hell. The state of the rich man, after his vapor of a life, was hell forever. The state of Lazarus after a poor life was eternal consolation. What is better: being rich for 100 years and being tormented in hell forever or being poor for 100 years and being with God in His glory forever?

God has judged us because of our sins, but he has also given us eternal life through faith in Jesus Christ, the Savior of the world. 1 John 5:12 tells us: “He that hath the Son hath life; and he that hath not the Son of God hath not life.” John 3:16 continues and tells us : “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Do not let your belly send you to hell. Give your whole attention to God. Wether we are poor or rich, each one of us needs to realize our need for the Lord Jesus Christ. At the end of our life, God is not going to look at the good we have done because it will be corrupted by sin. The only way to enter into the kingdom of God is through the only way God has provided for us: the Lord Jesus Christ.

God doesn't send anyone to hell- each person is responsible for the decision they take concerning their eternal state. If your belly is before God, repent and place God in his rightful place in your life by placing complete trust in Jesus as personal Savior, the lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world.

Make personal worship the priority. The story of Jehu in the Old Testament is a good illustration. He was all out for God with politics and with religion, but when it came to his personal relationship with the Lord and his personal worship, he failed miserably. The bible says that he cut Israel short as a result. The people you are attempting to help will be better helped if you spend time with the Lord. The natural inclination is to say "I really don't have time to do that right now because I've got things to do”, but the truth of the matter is that until we have met with God, we are not really prepared to help anyone else. Do not let the busyness overrun personal time that you spend in the word and in prayer. We need to perfect meditation. We seemingly have no time for it, but it's a good time just to be quiet, to be still and to let the Lord take what you have read and prayed over, giving your mind direction. 

​

Allow differences. Someone might do the same thing you would do, but do it in a different way. As long as it is not immoral or unscriptural, allow every man liberty by giving them the same liberty you would want. That is what we hope we do with the mission, even to the very youngest missionary we have. If he has been called of God and led of the Lord, we do every thing we can to give him the liberty to follow the Lord in his ministry. The mind has a nag for being critical, but do your best to let the criticism stay there. Never loose the ability to be humble. Prefer others. Realize that what ever the cost is, in the end, God balances the life. 

​

First of all, there is always enough support to do the Lord's will. It might not come from the same churches that support you now, but the Lord will raise it up if it is his will. On a purely human side of the equation, I would communicate this with my pastor through a phone call or e-mail about this change in direction. When your pastor gives his advice, make sure that you understand correctly what he is advising and that it is alright with him that you share his thoughts with your supporters. When the time came for the need to explain to the churches what our next move would be, I would always do it in a positive way. I would never say "I know some of you will not agree with this." I would simply say "after much prayer, consideration and conversation with my pastor, I have concluded that it is the Lord's will for us to…" and then, layout what it is, and share how we believe this change can be used of the Lord. My rule of thumb: missionaries should expect more of themselves than most churches expect of them. Same is true for pastors. Most pastors should expect more of themselves than their people actually expect of them. If you are certain that you have found God's design and purpose for your life, and your pastors says he can be behind it, then do it, no matter what the outcome may be. If you have to go back home and raise support, do it. I've yet to see a missionary make a major decision, based on money, who ever made the right decision. Not one time so far in thirty three years with the mission! Those who did made life changing decisions based on whether they thought they could get support for it or not, and not one of them is in missions anymore. You'll never make the right decision if you base it on money. 

​

It is hard to explain the grieving process.

Denial, sadness, guilt, depression, and then recovery.

That would be the simplest way to put it.

When I first heard my son Nathan had officially passed away, I knew it was a fact, a reality, but I did not completely comprehend it until 2 days later when I had my first real and uncontrollable meltdown about the situation. Afterwards, every day for about a month, I woke up in tears, spend most of my day in tears and went to bed in tears. I wanted to pretend it never happened, to forget it all so that I may once again see the bright side of things, strive be a help to those around me, an encouragement, and a blessing. Everything we had envisioned and planned to do on our first year on the mission field seemed to suddenly vanish. We were now faced with different circumstances and had to adjust quite fast to our new and unwanted situation.Yet, in all our feeble feeble attempts to move forward, all I could do was think of my son. 

Colors. Animals. Sounds. Feelings. Pictures. Locations. Food.

Everything around me made me think of Nathan- I simply couldn't get away from it no matter how hard I tried to focus on other things.Every possible scenario happening around us would bring me back to the delivery room. I’d spend the next few moments dwelling on the events of that wonderful, yet horrible day- envisioning his pretty little face, feet and hands, reliving the moment when we received the news from the doctor that he had breathed his last breath, the moment of denial that followed, and the intense sadness it had lead to, and was continually happening. 

That day and every detail of it is still as real and fresh in my mind as if it had happened a few moments ago.

So, you may ask, how did you ever get over it and move on?

Well, that is just it. I didn’t. I’ve learned you cannot “get over” something like this. It is an obstacle that must be gone through and lived through every day. Learning to live through it is what I’ve had to do, and what Stephen and I are still doing everyday.

I’ve chosen not to remove it from my mind, hoping to forget all about it. Instead, I try to rely on God for comfort when the reality and pain of the situation hits hard. I don't want to forget Nathan, to loose that memory, no matter the amount of pain that is attached with it- I just want to be able to Glorify and exalt God’s name through the situation. That is not a one time task- it is a daily struggle.

I’ve chosen to allow the pain of the memories to stay because they are also memories of joy. I’ve chosen not to forget because I don't want to forget how God worked such a miracle in my life, my husband’s life, and how he used our son’s short life to encourage others. Different things happening will make me cry, for what others may think to be no good and valuable reason at all. For those around us who do not know of our grief, they do not understand our sudden bursting into tears or our refusal to participate in certain activities because we are struggling through the day. They do not understand our want and need to sometimes talk or not talk about our loss. We have been trusted with this invisible burden which we will carry all our lives. This pas year, God has helped me through my many feelings of anger, anxiety, guilt and sadness- and He continually has to keep helping me through them. I’ve very often thought: “Could I have done anything to prevent this? Why me? I really don’t want to deal with these emotions today. What if it happens again? what if I never have another child? I just want to be normal and have children like everyone else, not bearing burdens”

I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I also wouldn't trade what has happened in my life through Nathan’s death because I’ve learned what it is like to live daily solely relying on God’s provisions, help, comfort and love. It has been the hardest journey and learning experience i’ve ever faced, but it has also been rewarding to my spirit and to my personal walk with the Lord.

Relying on Him as I seeked to find real joy again was a difficult task, and on certain days, it is still a difficult task.

As I am sure any mother would, I still long to hold Nathan, to put him to sleep, to wash his clothes and pick up his toys. I still imagine what our home would be like with a child’s fingerprints all over the walls, what it would be like to have completely different routine than the one we have at the present moment. But, with God’s help, I am not depressed about it. I have not let this situation change the course and plans God has for my life. I have refused to use it as an excuse to do nothing, to blame others for my circumstances, to ruin my marriage or to change the course of my life for the worse. I try to think and dwell on good things and to count my blessing instead of my losses.

You never forget these types of things, but you can be comforted through them. I can say God has truly comforted Stephen and I this past year. He has used so many to bring us joy, to make us think on Him and his goodness to us. It may have taken a little bit of time, but we eventually learned to laugh again! To all those who have helped us heal and have taken the time to pray, write, send packages and notes- thank you! Please, do keep praying for us- August 25th is a day we will have to face again very soon, and every year after, with the same emotions. Please pray the Lord gives us strength and comforts us again.

How very true Matthew 5:4 has been to us this past year.

 “blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted”

-Julie K.

It has been 15 years since I've spent Mother's Day with my mother.

I'm only 25 years old. Yes, she is still alive and well.

As you can imagine, I have very torn feelings about this particular day. It makes me thankful, yet re-opens wounds I constantly wished to keep closed and hidden. I've often wondered: Do you celebrate Mother's Day when your mom isn't there? Lately, I've wondered: Do you celebrate Mother's Day when your only child has recently died? What is this day all about anyways and what makes someone a mother?

Every Mother's Day, for as long as I can remember, I've thanked God for the mom he has given me. Yet, I have also wept. A lot.

I've often wept because I envied those who had their mothers always near to help, teach, and guide them. Always near to love and cherish them. Always there to encourage and cheer along life's journey. Always there as a shoulder to cry on or someone with whom to share extreme joy. Always there to encourage in the lord. Always...there. Just there.

I wanted those memories so many other girls and ladies had, and I wanted the relationship they had. I wanted that for myself with my mother.

After my parents divorce and I moved to live with my father. Since then, Every Mother's Day Sunday service, I would listen to our pastor tell the congregation about mothers and how special they are, only making me miss my own and wish certain circumstances concerning my relationship with her were different. I would watch children give gifts to their mom, plan dinner dates together and go on special outings just to celebrate the day.

I was so focused on what I wanted and wished for, that I often failed to see that where there seemed to be a "lack" in my life for that motherly role, God had always provided someone to fill in the gap when my own mother, for a time, could not. One particular mother taught me to sow. Another mother taught me to cook. Another taught me about being pure and dressing in a dignified way. Another one taught me to love others. Another taught me to love the Lord. Others invested their life and time into me, although they had children of their own. They adopted me as their own and showed me what it was like to have a mother on a daily basis. They took me shopping and adopted me as their daughters at the infamous mother daughter banquets.They loved me, wanted the best for me, allowed me to tell them my burdens, and encouraged me all the way through every major decision and trial my life. They never judged me or where I came from. They simply poured some of their life into mine, prayed for me, and showed me how to be a lady.

God saw the need and he provided. I'm forever grateful that he did.

Being a bit older now, I am also thankful that my relationship with my own mother has been re established. I love her so much. I'm saddened that we missed so many years together, but so thankful for what we have now. I'm thankful that in a world where mothers are now given the choice to keep their children, my mother kept me and did so much more for me. Even through trials, with her I've learned to love despite the circumstances. That love is not always just words, but an action.

I'm glad there is a day to celebrate mothers and to remind us of of how special they are. But, I wish people would not end it there. It is more than just a day. Mothers are mothers every day and some are "mothers" to children who are not even their own. Although I do not have my child on this earth with me, I am still a mother and I will celebrate this day with my husband. I may not have had the privilege to "mother" my own child at this time, but there are plenty in our neighborhood in need of that motherly figure I so desperately wanted when I was younger.

To my own mother - I love you so very much and i am so thankful that God gave me you. Thank you for giving me the gift of entering this world and, although we are constantly far from one another, for loving me and keeping me in your thoughts and prayers.

To my many other mothers- thank you for your much needed love, guidance and teaching. Please keep finding other young ladies in need and pour your life into them. Please, keep teaching them according to Titus 2:3-5, as many other have invested into me.

"The aged women likewise, that they be in behaviour as becometh holiness, not false accusers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things; That they may teach the young women to be sober, to love their husbands, to love their children, To be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God be not blasphemed."

-Julie

« Nasara! Nasara! Nasara! »

I thought i’d get used to it very quickly. I didn’t.

« Nasara » is the term for « white person » in the Moré  language.

Wether in town, in the village, or right outside our front door, the moment a child sees you, they begin yelling « white person!» Many adults will do it as well.

At first, it was cute, since we were new in the neighborhood. We were the only non-africans who resided here. I figured it would get old, that they would return to their daily routines and forget about us. Five months later, nothing has changed. Every time we come out of our house, there are about 10 children who are waiting, pointing  and waving at us, saying « Nasara! »

Before moving to Burkina Faso, many missionaries spent time talking to me about culture shock. They always mentioned their own difficulties being related back to missing their own culture. I genuinely thought «  if i can simply learn to accept their food, weather and customs, that will greatly help me ».

Nobody warned me of how hard it would be to be the white person in Africa.

On our first trip to Burkina, we went to a village and all the kids pointed to us and yelled « Nasara ». I didn't think much of it, knowing they do not see white people often. After all, we are quite peculiar looking for someone who doesn't see us often- pale, strange hair, light eyes, pinkish everywhere, hairy arms, etc. Putting myself in their shoes, I’d have done the same thing! 

Then, we moved here for good, and it happened EVERYWHERE.

• Going to the store, sellers surround us as we leave the car, trying to sell us everything and anything until we reach the store’s entrance.
• We go into town to buy simple things, only to be quoted prices that are astronomical. 
• The beggars on the streets are nonchalant until they see us coming. All of a sudden, every single one of them is at our car window, begging, until the light turns green. 
• I’d go to the market, and hear the ladies whisper « nasara » to one another, and then quote me prices even i knew were unfair. 
• One day, students saw me walking home, changed their direction and ran to me to beg for money, following me almost 5 minutes, determined the white person would give away anything freely. 
• Another time, a group kids saw me afar off, and the older children began teaching a small child how to beg to a white person. By the time I walked near them, he was in front of the group, testing out his new « method », being encouraged to continue by his comrades.
• We had one guy grab money out of our hands as we were paying a parking attendant.
• we had fruit sellers throw bananas and oranges inside our car, hoping we’d just buy it all now that it was out of their hands. 
• One guy begged us to buy him a coffee (never mind that he had an Ipod around his neck).
• At a wedding in the village, Stephen left my side for 5 minutes to go take pictures of the wedding, and a random man sat next to me and had his buddy start taking picture of me and him.
• Some babies will cry every time they see a white person.
• In the village, some children will not approach you because some villagers teach their kids that white people eat babies.
• We went over someone house to eat, only to find out an hour into the meal, that were was a teen girl hiding in the next room. She had not come out because she was dreadfully afraid of white people. Then, when the owner begged her to come, she did, barely looking, trembling and teary eyed.She shook our hands and headed straight back to her hiding place. until we left.

I quickly went from thinking « everyone here is different, but i’ll get used to it » to « I am the one that is different, that will never change » 

I remember one day specifically- I came home, sat on the couch, stared at the wall for a bit, then began sobbing uncontrollably. I was so tired of being white- of being so different! I was tired of people wondering why I burn when I’m out in the sun too long. At one point, Amy Carmichael dyed her skin with coffee beans while working in India- could I do that? Could i go anywhere, just one day, and not be pointed at, cheated, begged? Would anyone ever want to be my friend, without an ulterior motive? Would people ever stop chanting « nasara » every time they see me? Would someone ever give me a fair price? Will I forever be viewed as a tourist?

« Culture shock » had hit me hard.

Although it has been difficult at times to get over this specific part of « culture shock », other great things have happened:

• The Market sellers near home are fair and quoting me normal prices. They also smile and greet me when I come see them.
• Our carpenter is more than fair with us- he is generous of his own time as well.
• We always have at least 4-10 kids, smiling and genuinely wanting to see us every time we leave the house.
• Everyone on our street is continually excited to wave hello to us- granting us a big grin when we wave back.
• People in the neighborhood who see us often have started approaching us simply to greet us and wish us a good day.
• Speaking Moré has transformed their view of us- they see that we want to speak their mother tongue, and they respect and love that.
• After a few months, the teens have begun to open up to us and truly enjoy our company.
• The lady at the grocery store enjoys giving us free pieces of candy just because she likes us.
• God has given me genuine friends here. I needed that very much and I’m so thankful for them.
• It makes us so happy to see the joy on the burkinabé's faces when you show up somewhere wearing traditional clothes. They love it and always comment on it.
• Eating their food and drinking their water at their home has earned us respect (although it still gives us stomach problems)
• We have finally seen some kids begin to call us by our name instead of « Nasara » - huge step forward!
• People have started to see we do not want to exploit them. This has led to bible studies being started in the goal of studying the bible only, not getting something else out of it.
• People had seen us around town quite often when I was expecting. The moment they saw me again after Nathan was born, they began excitedly asking about the baby. I never knew they noticed my round belly, but they did. By asking, they showed me they cared. By crying with me over the news, they showed me they had compassion that went further than « skin color » barriers.

I had a very good friend of mine tell me : « we are not here for ourselves, we are here for them. »

She was right. I’m not here to serve myself, reflect on my own preferences and culture, but to serve them, reach them, and love them and their ways. I’d also like to say that although we are here to live and accept their culture, we are ultimately here because of our love for God. People here have made me upset many times. They have let me down, made me feel unworthy, objectified, rejected and awkward - but God has not. 

Christ came down from his heavenly home. He became a man and lived in this world. He was rejected and despised. He did not fit in. He left his home for us- humanity. In this similar way, Stephen and I left our home so the Burkinabés could hear of this man and what He has done for all humanity. We may never be rejected as He was, but we understand a bit more about « learning to belong and loving along the way ».

I will eventually get used to the fact that Stephen and I are two of very few « Nasara’s » in this country. The begging will not stop. The name chanting won’t either. Other days will come when I will want to go inside my house and hide. But already, my attitude about it all has changed and that is what matters. I cannot control other’s actions or thoughts, but I can control mine. I may never really be completely « ok » and at ease with this part of the culture I now live in, but I know I wont be bitter against it, just accepting and understanding. This small obstacle cannot stop us from what we came here to do- reach them with the Gospel. It has not stopped us from treating them with love and compassion, inviting them into our home and embracing their culture. I’m not black, and I will never wake up being a different skin color. Yet, God wants me in Africa, and so here I am. I’ve often felt unfit and unprepared for this, but them I remember Amos also felt that way. He was but a shepherd who would go and pick wild fruits. God told him to go prophecy to Israel. He didn't have training and credentials for that specific job, yet the Lord chose him used him. I’m not a superhuman who loves everyone she sees and never had a bad day. I’m not from Africa and I don't completely understand the culture yet, but I know the Lord has and will continue to use me as I follow him here in Burkina. Now that, my friend, is something truly exciting!

Remember to pray for your missionary friends, especially the ones who freshly arrive to the mission field. Many obstacles they will have to overcome are not always so easy to pinpoint at the beginning of their stay. Some days are hard and wear on your emotions, while most are simply wonderful. Prayer is a wonderful thing!

-Julie

Psalm 27
The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?
the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?
When the wicked, even mine enemies and my foes, came upon me to eat up my flesh,
they stumbled and fell.
 Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear:
though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident.
 One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after;
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to enquire in his temple.
 For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion:
in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me;
he shall set me up upon a rock.
 And now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me:
therefore will I offer in his tabernacle sacrifices of joy;
I will sing, yea, I will sing praises unto the Lord.
 Hear, O Lord, when I cry with my voice:
have mercy also upon me, and answer me.
When thou saidst, Seek ye my face; my heart said unto thee,
Thy face, Lord, will I seek.
 Hide not thy face far from me;
put not thy servant away in anger:
thou hast been my help; leave me not,
neither forsake me, O God of my salvation.
 When my father and my mother forsake me,
then the Lord will take me up.
 Teach me thy way, O Lord, and lead me in a plain path, because of mine enemies.
 Deliver me not over unto the will of mine enemies:
for false witnesses are risen up against me, and such as breathe out cruelty.
 I had fainted, unless I had believed
to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
 Wait on the Lord:
be of good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart:wait, I say, on the Lord

And the Lord God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living soul -Genesis 2:7

God breathed into Adam's nostrils the breath of life. 
It wasn't until Monday evening that I realized what a simple, yet powerful act this was. The breath of life- something only God himself can give.

There are certain things you will never be prepared to handle until they happen.

Writing this letter is one of those things.

You will never be prepared for complications to happen suddenly when there were never "meant" to be any.
You will never be prepared for the long wait in a delivery room as no one tells you what is happening, and you seem to be watching every one walk by in a hurry, knowing they are bringing all these medical tools to take care of the son you've just delivered.
You will never be prepared to watch as your child struggles to live.
You will never be prepared to lose him through death.
You will never be prepared for the heartbreak that follows seeing your spouse sobbing uncontrollably into your arms.
You will never be prepared to see that minuscule casket containing the body of the little one you've already given so much of your heart and love to, be placed into the ground and buried.
You will never be prepared for the ride back home- empty handed and hurting, physically and emotionally.
You will never be prepared to look at and unpack that unused hospital bag, the dresser full of beautiful baby clothing, the crib, the nursery decorations, the baby books, shampoos, creams and diapers- and put them away, knowing the child who was meant to use them is already gone.
You will never be prepared for the next up and coming mornings, as you continually face the reality of what has happened.

Yet, through all this, God gives grace. 
He gives complete peace. 
He gives understanding. 
He gives comfort. 
He gives hope for the future. 
He gives joy.
He makes himself known, and keeps His guiding hand visible in your life.

Our precious son, Nathan, was born on August 25th, at 7:55 pm in Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. He died around 10:00 pm that same evening. The birth could not have gone better- absolutely no complications. There were no problems with him or his organs. He was continually moving and active. He was completely healthy. His birth weight was just right. His heartbeat throughout the pregnancy was perfect, even up until the moment he came out. He had all his fingers and toes, blonde hair and blue eyes.
So what happened? What could possibly have gone wrong?
We do not have an answer to those questions. We never will. The medical doctors were greatly bothered by the lack of their own understanding at the situation. They do not have an answer, and they never will. 
The moment our son was born, he became unconscious. His heart was beating, but he was not breathing. They tried all they could to bring breath into his lungs, but it would never take, and his heart would continually fail because of the lack of oxygen. They were doing all they could in their human efforts to bring the breath of life into this child. No man has the ultimate power to give that breath. Only God can give that first breath which yields sustained life. Only He can perform that miracle in a child. He has full control of the life he created and owns.
You see, Nathan was never ours to keep. God knew the outcome of this situation before we did. It was not a surprise to Him. He knew we would have to face this difficult trial as soon as we arrived to the mission field. He created the beautiful child I was privileged to carry and hold ever so shortly. It was and still is His creation for Him to do with as He wishes. We love our son, but we know we could never love him as much as His creator loves him. It is such a comfort to us to know that he is with his Heavenly Father, and that although he may never join us here on earth again, we will join him one day.
We are not trying to figure out why this happened and we will not try to do so.We do not need to know every reason our creator has for these kind of events to take place in our life. We just need to trust Him. We need to allow Him to work through us in this situation- that it would strengthen our faith, our love for Him, our marriage, and our work in the ministry here in Burkina Faso. We need to keep relying on Him for daily strength. We are not bitter or mad at God- we are simply thankful he chose to give us such a beautiful child to love, even if it was for a very short time. We are thankful for his continually visible guiding hand in our life, even through this situation. We are grateful for other believers who have been a tremendous encouragement to us at this time. We are thankful for the support of our pastor and home church, and for the many prayers being said on our behalf.We are thankful for the missionaries here in Africa who have greatly helped us and encouraged us as we felt completely helpless and lost the last few days. We are thankful and honored to have buried our loving son in the country where we are currently serving the Lord.
We are thankful to have The Lord on our side. We are thankful to have each other as husband and wife to comfort one another. We are thankful for this verse: 
"Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you: But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ's sufferings; that, when his glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy." 1 Peter 4:12-13

Please keep us in your prayers.
Looking unto Jesus, 
Julie knickerbocker