Meet Dortea Grace

We have been back in Papua for a little over nine months. I'm now certain of this time frame because my house helper/friend found out she was pregnant not long after our return and she gave birth last week. 

Ibu Engge has been a great friend to our family over the past 4 1/2 years. She loves my kids like they are her own. She was so excited when we returned with Allie. Even though she's at my house to work and earn a wage for her family, she always begins the day sitting down and playing with the girls. Nine months ago she took some time off because she was sick. She went to the hospital where they prescribed her medicine for "something" and she was back less than a week later to check for malaria. Instead the nurses came back and told her she was pregnant. This opened up a new world of learning and observing for me. The first three months she stayed home, too sick to go anywhere. As the baby (and her belly) grew, our excitement grew as well! The girls and I took her to get an ultrasound. It was the first of her 4 babies she has ever seen while still in the womb. This momma never gets tired of seeing life in the womb or hearing the unique rhythm of a baby's heartbeat- amazing!!  

Her due date was still a few weeks off, but she was well into the uncomfortable stage of pregnancy. Those last few weeks of knowing there's not much room left on the inside, so the baby will be making their appearance sooner than later. So I suggested she stay home and rest, not to worry about work any more, but prepare for the baby's arrival. 

Six days later she gave birth to a healthy baby girl. I went to visit the day after she was born. 

Ibu Engge shared a room with three other women. One had just gone home shortly before I arrived. The other momma had only given birth a few hours before, and was already up walking around! All natural deliveries, no epidurals and no pain meds... wow! Her baby looked like a doll, peacefully asleep on the bed. Ibu Engge's baby was stretched out on a blanket. I forgot how skinny newborn legs are! I spoke to the baby in English and told her how happy I was that she was finally here and reminded her of the blessing she is to her family. 

She opened her eyes and looked for this voice. I was there for about an hour and held this little one for 45 minutes. She was wrapped up in a warm blanket, which made me sweat even more than I already was- but I didn't care! I would have held her all day if I didn't have to get back to my own two!  

Dortea with Big sister, Leta Kristina 

I asked what the baby's name was. It's not uncommon in this culture to delay naming the baby, so I wasn't sure their thoughts. Ibu Engge said her sister-in-law chose the name Dortea (Door-tay-ah), which sounds like Dorthy to my ear and helps me to remember how to pronounce her name. Without skipping a beat, my friend asked me to give this little one a name. ME?! I was so overcome with emotion that I told her I would love to and must think about it. 

ME?! The Lord was flooding my heart with reminders of His love for me. I have several friends and colleagues who have handfuls of kids named after them or have given names to several kids in Papua. They are the Bible translators. They are the pilots. They are not me. They are not the momma who doesn't get out of her house much. They aren't the momma who can't communicate very clearly in Indonesian. This was an incredible reminder of WHO the Lord has called ME to love. 

Love those in my circle. 

Love hard those who are in my house often. 

Love the few I interact with frequently. 

I may not love a tribe, but the ripples of the people I interact with make an impact. 

So I gave the name Grace to Dortea. The Lord gave me the opportunity to explain what grace is- when we deserved the consequences of our bad actions, God chose to give us love and grace instead. Grace is undeserved. Grace is a gift. 

I pray that Dortea Grace know Jesus from an early age, that her life may be a picture of grace that constantly points others to Christ, and that she never doubt the love that so many have for her. 

When I announced that I had to go pick up my girls from my friend's house, I returned Dortea Grace to her momma and big sister. As a sign of our special bond, she cried her newborn cry when I handed her to her mom.  Such a sweet sound during waking hours! :) 

A Story of a Starfruit Tree

The starfruit tree across the street was in full bloom. The branches literally bending from the weight of the amount of fruit. The owner of the tree was not interested in picking the fruit, so the neighborhood kids picked its fruit. I would see and hear the kids from my kitchen window. The smallest one would disappear into the tree while the older kids gather the starfruit that fell. Now, maybe I was going through some culture shock/general grouchiness with the amount of transition I was/am/and continue to go through, but one day I watched the kids climb on top of the neighbor's fence. Looking back this came from a genuine place of concern- pick the fruit but don't climb on the fence. 

So I yelled," Get down! Don't climb on the fence!" 

The kids froze, probably wondering where this strange voice was coming from yelling in terrible Indonesian. 

They returned later that afternoon. 

I just watched from my window (I can completely relate to Jimmy Stewart in Rear Window) and the kids scrambled up the tree, on to the fence and on to the roof of my neighbor's house! I got some advice from my Indonesian friend. Pick all the fruit, don't climb on the fence, and for sure don't climb on the roof! Who is responsible if you fall and break something? ME!? Me and my 2 kids?! So I brought my cell phone outside with the message from my friend written in Indonesian. I tried to read the message to them but not look at the phone... they filled in the word for "responsibility", so I know they knew what I was talking about. The kids left, and about that time my new neighbor came home from work. 

I began to tell him how for several days the kids have been climbing the tree, climbing on his fence, and today climbed on his roof. He said," Ibu, this is God's tree so it's okay for the kids to have the fruit." I replied," Yes! I agree! Please, let them have all the fruit. I just don't want anyone to get hurt trying to get the fruit." 

The next evening before dinner we hear WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! 

I peek out the window...

to see the neighbors chopping off the top of the starfruit tree.

My heart sinks- this is not what I had in mind!

 Branches and starfruit cover the street.  Now no one gets the fruit, but no one can get hurt. We were already going on a little walk, so we took a detour to tell all the kids to run and collect the fruit that had fallen. We came back to see a semi-circle gathered around the tree and no one collecting the fruit. So I stepped in and handed the fruit to the kids. I'm sure everyone was confused, because I felt like I was the reason the tree was chopped down... maybe everyone else felt that way too. 

It was such a shock the way the "issue" of the tree was dealt with. For some reason it made an impact on me. I see this tree every day looking out all windows of my house. The top of the tree was chopped off, and it looked dead. God watered the tree. The tree grew and the buds of starfruit can be seen. 

The starfruit tree today

New fruit fell today!

It may sound strange but this tree is a symbol of my time living overseas- specifically over the past nine months. Often times it feels like we're starting over when we leave or return, like the top of our tree has been cut off. But God in His love and mercy waters the tree whether it deserves the drink or not. The tree survives the elements, once again only through grace, and eventually bears fruit. It's hard to leave or return (I'm reminded of that every month of May when friends and colleagues say good-bye) but God gives grace. His grace is shown in friendships that pick up where you left off. It's shown in forging new relationships with people who are walking along the same life path as you. It's shown in seeing my kids fall into routine here and thrive in making their own friendships with those around them. His grace is seen when Kate tries to use Indonesian even though she only says a string of random words like "Ibu Sambal Delapan" (Mrs. Hot Sauce Eight). His grace is seen at dinner time when my kids beg for more bananas, papaya or nangka or more soy sauce on their white rice. 

His grace is what makes me feel a level of comfort living here.

His grace makes way for the fruit.