Thursday, December 21, 2017

Smothered

You know how a fire can be smothered, and your bread can be smothered?  If your fire is smothered, it's almost always bad, especially if you're a Watkin and pride yourself in having nice dry firewood.  If your bread is smothered, it's almost always good, especially if you're a Watkin and you pride yourself on not depriving your stomach of delectable treats during the holiday season.

Well, we've been smothered in the most wonderful of ways.  We have been smothered by the love of family in the last couple of months. Here are some pictures of us dripping with that strengthening acceptance and lavish care.

Tea parties with Nana before an afternoon nap.

"Can I go to Auntie Sarah's house now?" This picture only begins to show the enthusiastic joy my sister finds in Mariama.  Mari feels it and rejoices in her time with Auntie Sarah.

Sister-in-law takes time to go sledding!  This was a first for me! 

Uncle Josh stopped into the farm supply and left with a gift for Mariama!  Some of my earliest gifts were given to me by my brother as well.

Papa puts to use his fence building skills...he found making ones for cows easier.

Christmas cookies...it may be slower, but it's so much more fun this way!

Grammy comes from Indiana and goes sledding!

Uncle Josh comforts Lydia.  He's always been good at cuddling and comforting little ones.  I should know, he's often done it for me as my older brother by 12 years.
We remember as we put up Nana's Christmas tree decorations!
 All this smothering has filled up our cups as we turn our minds towards our Nigerian home.  I, Christy, know family in a new way now.  I have experienced those who raised, cheered for, and treasured me now doing the same for my girls. I didn't know what I was missing, what they were missing.  Now I do, and the leaving becomes harder.

 Please pray with us as we prepare to leave this warm, smothering embrace. 

Thank You Power Company!

I wrote this when we first arrived...I'm getting used to things happening at a different pace.    Dear ONIT*, I know you, my local power...