From Haiti to Hilton Head and all the in between

Our lives lately in images ...

Yahtzee!

Looking for winter clothes!

Aves and Emmy!

We love the Fortenberry girls!

Hugs from big sister before going in for GI procedures

Before ...

After ...

Leyna!!!

Nothing like walking in to a sea of strangers and seeing a good friend ... 

Early Christmas!

Ya Ya!!

Island life ... sugary cereal at Aunt Ann's and Uncle Richard's

Hell-o Spring Island!

Homemade pasta at the Farmer's Market

A Saturday in Beaufort

A Sunday on the beach

Travels from Port Au Prince to Memphis couldn't have been smoother. A bacon cheeseburger and some grilled cheese in the Miami airport could have made the world go round. Besides locks ripped off and small gifts swiped before the first flight, we landed with all our loot and a couple of happy grandparents. The first few days on the ground in Memphis were enough to get most of the culture differences wiggled out and the transition to the life we have always known. We hit the ground running with car tag renewals, Christmas shopping, long runs, etc. We had an evening of grilled salmon followed by Yahtzee and hot chocolate way past little bedtimes with grandparents overjoyed to engage in little half-Haitian grandchildren.

There's nothing like waiting until 9pm in freezing weather to open up the storage unit only to find box to the ceiling that are labeled anything but winter clothes. Just moments later Charles mentions, Oh I think the winter clothes are at my parents' house. "Oh," I say. "Good to know." So before midnight we had pulled out tubs of sweaters, leggings, boots, and the like. My head started spinning. What fits? Where are my clothes? "Let's go to bed," I say. Alarm goes off, I jump up in the dark and remember I have to pack three suitcases of winter clothes that may or may not fit for the weekend and make it to a doctor's appointment by noon. We rush out and 30 minutes into the drive one of our little ones asks, "Are we going to have breakfast?" Shoot. I forgot breakfast. A normal omission on my own part but I at least try to feed the rest of them. I rummage through a bag and find goldfish and some granola bars. Mom failure. We arrive in time. Shoes on. School books in hand and in we go.

I look up to see a friend's face. She's here to pick up one while the other gets probed. I watch them leave hand in hand. I love my friend has children in college and has my child in hand. They are off for a good time and we're here waiting for good news. A few hours later we're walking out with some God-given scheduling and a doctor who is taking us seriously. She said, "Oh yeah, her belly is distended and she isn't absorbing nutrition like she should." Our thoughts exactly. Validation is a gift in itself. Tests tomorrow and hopefully answers.

Thursday night we get kids over to their friends' house and we hug our friends. It's a quick drop off and a whatever you wanna do about dinner kind of friendship. Five kids, four girls and a lot of giggles. We get to where we go to kick off a conference and some conversation with others around the world trying to tell the truth to those who don't know in forms of teachers, coordinators, agriculturists, etc. The night ends with picking up sleeping girls and talking about the latest happenings near and far.

Friday morning starts in the dark with an odd request to bend over and shoot glycerin inside of her for the procedure that's to come. Text starts and mom's on her way. My angel will take some meds and will sleep through the whole thing but she doesn't know it yet. The tiger gown, a new baby doll by her side, and a cartoon on the screen. She starts dozing and we get a pager until she's in recovery. She's going to be fine and as soon as I choke up I turn to Charles and tell him I'm just tired. No sleep has always equaled tired tears. We walk into recovery and she's confused, screaming. Too groggy to really scream but unable to open her eyes enough to be comforted. Charles holds her and we wait for the doctor. She refuses apple juice and fights the gown. The doctor says it's not cancer. I missed the rest of her results caught up in not knowing it could have been. It's not Chron's Disease, polyps, colonitis, ulcers, etc. What the heck is it? We have to wait for the biopsy results and go from there. More waiting. Mom meets me about that time and little one turns a corner. We put her in the car and pick up Pickle. We move carseats and change clothes, gather all the loose items and get to where we're going. I ride with my friend to a luncheon of ladies. I feel the most exhausted walking into a mansion on a golf course and handed a goblet of water. A swirl of women with pearls and high heels. Where am I? A little culture shock. I spot a really good friend and then several ladies ask about Aves. I answer questions and feel terribly, emotionally unstable like my tears may spill over at the slightest attempt at conversation of the morning. I get through a prayer meeting and find refuge in time with mom, Aunt Kim, and good ole Leyna. The afternoon is relaxing and lacking nothing. Aves is fine. No major marks and not enough to worry about at this point.

The weekend is full of luncheons and dinners, sprinkled with prayers and good conversation. Problem solving with those who know more. Close friends who hug our necks and squeeze our hands. We know. They know. We love they see us and they know our hearts. We go inside the house, decorated to the ceiling with Christmas. I hug her. She hugs me. I realize I used to avoid that hello hug and now I welcome it. I miss it. At the table with friends, no small mouths to feed or spills to clean up. What i've longed for. Deep breath. Enjoy it. Tall man who knows more than I can say in a smile hugs me and asks how I am. He stands waiting and I feel salty tears at the brim and smile back. Nothing said. No need to. I'm fine. Thankful to be surrounded by the ones who know the life of walking out of that one and into this one.

We open the door and conversation starts up with our hosts who know so much too. They offer their opinion and we feel validated by it. They know what we know. They offer encouragement and we navigate steps for improvement. Our heads don't hit the pillow until after midnight. When will I catch up on sleep.

I wake up to a text that reads "Can we meet at 8:30 instead of 9:30?" Oh no. Charles get up. We have to go. It's 8:30 now. We rush to get to the table with our friends sitting with two restless children and tall cups of coffee. It's amazingly comforting to be at the table with two good friends who have been walking with us through the narratives of Haiti life and have come alongside to lift us up. Questions are fired off, oatmeal spilled, an overpacked bakery, and an attempt at catching up face to face.

More time with friends and a long run through the hilly neighborhood. I walk back in with sweaty hair and smell roasted chicken. More friends coming over for dinner. Thank you, Mrs. Anne, for going to the trouble.

Sunday morning brings bright lights and microphones. We share tidbits of our story and hear from others around the world. Plenty of dressed up Baptists and cups of orange juice. I pass the microphone so Charles can tell it. I'm the supporter up here on stage...supporting the ministry, the farmer, the life in Haiti. We're not selling anything up on stage, just telling those listening that it doesn't take an extraordinary person to go to the other side of the world and do life. A man sitting by me says he is trying to reach a Russian people group but his parents don't know Jesus Christ. A lot of thoughts on the mission life and all it entails.

I meet Biz between houses on the road. We walk and talk. Another connection on the real level. The walk isn't too long because we head back to church. More presentations. A friend introduces us and the slides are one after the other with a handful of pictures of our everyday life. Dark faces swirled in with light ones. Girls watering gardens and mamas opening the Bible.

The week starts late on Monday morning. The only one we can think of when we haven't had the girls to wake us up. The sun is already high. A quick run, a packed suitcase and a lot of conversation on the way back to Memphis. We spend a few days seeing grandparents, problem solving, helping loved ones. The girls open Christmas presents early and squeal over guitar books and doctor kits. New baby dolls go for check ups and I hear Kum Ba Ya with acoustics from upstairs. One morning we Skype with our closest friend in Haiti. We light up seeing his face on the screen. It's good to connect with a world's difference in between. The girls are silly and smile at him. We talk updates and what we're missing and make plans to do it again.

I fill in the gaps with lunch and coffee with girlfriends. The face to face time fills my soul. It reminds me our miles apart doesn't stop our friendship. I say it's really lonely there with the girls some days and she says, "it's really lonely here too." So we slowly start finding the common ground and make mental notes of how to pray for the other. The hot tea in hand with another friend late at night is the same way. I want validation, affirmation, someone to tell me exactly what to do. The answer comes back that only God can really do that and I'm back at the beginning of the circle. No answers, more trust. We talk until our curfew.

The alarm sounds before 5 am and it's painful to be up so early. We are packed and we get in the car. Sleepy girls and a quick coffee. We're off. GPS says vacation starts in 10 hours. The trip is full of new CDs, naps, car games and lengthy conversations about our in between thoughts. I buy two books at the gas station, a first for me. Taming the Tongue for 30 days and Praying the Names of Jesus. I want to learn all of that.

We arrive on schedule and are welcomed by family and the amazing landscape of the island. Hello South Carolina. Hello Vacation. Down time at its best. I realize it's an act of mercy that our cell phones don't work on the island and down time just extended its boundaries.

Days here consist of lazy mornings, refills on coffee, long runs and naps. Yesterday the girls and I played Mouse Trap and Chinese Checkers. The old game Bed Bugs was too close to our Haiti life. We read books and played on the tree house. Our crew ended the day at Palmetto Bluff watching A Christmas Story on the big screen with a picnic and hot chocolate. Perfect vacation.

Today we're off to the Farmer's Market in Beaufort and hopefully going to decorate the perfect gingerbread house.