The dirt path leading back to the woman's hut had turned in to a stream of thick mud. Mud so thick one of my flip-flops was suctioned right off of my foot. I stood on one fit trying to pry the cheap, rubbery shoe out of that seeming quicksand.
Tired, hot, and hungry we pressed forward.
As we were walking, the men started speaking Burmese in hushed tones. There was a foul odor that made you choke and cover your face as not to drink in the scent. The men walked over to a nearby dumpster and looked inside. They very matter-of-factly closed the lid and shook their heads.
We continued on to the hut. There was a cluster of them close together and people carrying woven baskets on their hips. We finally came to the woman we had come to see. Her skin was brown and her long, black hair was greasy. As we were leaving, the preacher told me that Burmese women do not bathe or leave their homes for a month (and sometimes longer) for fear of becoming ill; they do not want to be exposed to any breezes.
We extended a loaf of bread to her and took time to pray. Even though she professed the Christian faith, there was a small statue of Buddha in the corner and some other paraphernalia There was also what looked like a prayer card with Mother Mary's face on it taped to the wall.
Her baby slept.
We said our good-byes and passed the foul odor once again. I asked the preacher what the smell-- that rotting, make-my-stomach sick smell was.
"There's a dead baby girl in the dumpster."
He said it with a tone that implies, "We see this all the time."
"Why would anyone throw their baby in a dumpster?" I questioned.
"Because she can't help the father in the fields. He probably wanted a boy and threw her away."
Threw her away...like a candy wrapper. Threw her away...like gum stuck to my shoe.
These are hard truths. Life is not always what you make of it. There is evil and deep sadness.
Needless lives are lost every day due to brutality of one form or another, as we saw in the tragic Colorado shooting.
And I find myself wanting to put something good and meaningful back in to this place we call our home. Beauty. Joy. Gratitude. I count gifts, because if I don't, I will allow despair to swallow me up.
Ann Voskamp states in her 10 Point Manifesto of Joyful Parenting:
"Today, when stress mounts, I pray to dismount it with gratitude. My stress management plan will be intervention with verbal thanks. I can only feel one feeling at a time, and I choose to give thanks at all times. Fight feeling with feeling!"
Fight sadness with joy. Create beauty. Recognize evil and counter it with putting goodness back in.
Here are a few things I've been thankful for over the last few days:
Living slow
Vegetables growing in the garden
Eyes full of wonder in my baby boy
Too much stuff
Breaking free
Semi-clean kitchen
Cherry tomatoes on my window sill
Kids who wake up in the middle of the night
Slip covers smudged in finger paint
Reconciliation
Getting a shower (hey, it's a big deal with four kids!)
The quiet that comes after a thunderstorm
A heart desperate to be in communion with God--God bless you, sweet girl
The hum of the air conditioner
A list of things to do that tells me I'm still alive
Husband drinking coffee, watching out window
Warm forgiveness
What are some of the things you're thankful for today? You can always read here for more inspiration:
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