Love - Language Without Words - Sudan

Soooo, we are back from Sudan!

We've gone and come, and been back in our little American world again for two full weeks. Amazing. I still think on our time in Africa every day, which I love. It's fresh and vulnerable. Still convicts and encourages, while at the same time, reminds me to pray for the people we met and the love of Christ that continues to grow and show itself powerful a midst the people of a very young country and church of Southern Sudan.

Sharing is difficult, as always. So much to say, yet it's hard to say it detailed enough to communicate the emotion and significance while keeping it concise enough for most people to listen. Makes trying to share, difficult, and the interest of those who want to know the nitty gritty very special and treasured.

I think the best way for now, that I can show and tell is with brief pictures, videos, and snippets of stories. As the Lord brings to mind the precious people and encounters of our last trip to Sudan, I'll try to post and share with you.

Today I am thinking about and missing terribly the little people. Three kids living at the compound where we stayed: Wani, Mercy, and Mike.

 

All about the same height and very close in age, these three could be considered the musketeers of camp. Likely they understand more English than they speak (which isn't much), their language is love, and they understand it no matter who speaks it. We played hard, tickled much, and communicated with each other with words: me in English, them in Bari-glish (Bari with a few English words mixed in :). I miss very much coming "home" every day and chasing them around the dirt yard, tickling Wani until I tired of it (I don't think he EVER would), and chasing Mercy around the yard as she taunted, "This one Wani" while pointing at herself. Mercy even taught me a hand clapping game, for which I was only able to learn some of the Bari words. Would love to play it with her right now.

Feels like Nephews and  Niece . . . that live very. Far. Away.