Moving Day!

After our directors left, we knew that I could not remain in Kandi even for two weeks. I was exhausted and becoming depressed (I didn't know at the time the depression was setting in). I felt as though no one but Milton cared what happened to me. I felt like a failure as a mom, as a missionary--well at just about everything. I felt sure that we would be allowed to move to Bembereke--if not we would have to leave Benin. It had come to that, at least in my mind. I knew I would be o.k. if we were at Bembereke but if I had to remain in isolation any longer I would crack! I started packing up our house. We didn't have all that much stuff! We had never shipped anything out from the States and it was our first term. We had come out with about 30 boxes, but that was it. Most of those were Milton's theological books! We had managed to buy a few things from missionaries leaving the field, but over all it would not be hard to move.

Milton had two weeks of work--he was providing transportation to Christian Fulani women to attend a Fulani women's conference in a remote setting in Benin. It wasn't unusual for pastors to attend this women's conference and it would be good language practice. We decided that I should check into the Guest House at Bembereke and stay there with Alicia while he was away. I had friends there and it would give me a chance to rest.

One of our friends, Pastor Djima was in charge of the cash office for missionaries. We had first met Pastor Djima in Djougou where we had lived for the first 9 months of our time in Benin. I had helped him buy books on counseling so that he would be better equipped to deal with the needs of the staff at Bembereke. His wife and I were friends and I had helped her with a sewing project that continues today. They taught us a lot about hospitality, about the local culture, and we had an easy, comfortable relationship. I remember walking into the office one day to get cash. He asked me how I was doing and I burst into tears! Not only was he a friend but he was my pastor. I could talk to him, so I bared my soul to him and he prayed with me. I explained our situation in Kandi and how difficult it had been.

I spent a lot of time just resting and reading and visiting my friends during that two weeks. Milton and I had talked and had made a plan to get through the remaining time that we had in Benin. There are times in a crisis situation where you have to lower your expectations. No one had talked to us about transitioning with our daughter, I had no extra help and I was expected to learn Fulfulde! It didn't matter that I had not planned to work in Fulfulde, and SIM's expectations were unrealistic for a first term missionary and new mom! I went back to Myron Loess' thesis and reread it. Not once did my husband say or do anything that conveyed higher expectations of me. If anything he was the rock I needed at that time. He was the steady one and I could lean on him.

By the time he returned from the women's conference we had the greenlight to move. A house was waiting for us. It was a remodeled shipping container! It had two bedrooms and the living room and kitchen were one room. The bathroom was off the kitchen. Not ideal by any means, but we could handle it for the remaining six months! It seemed like heaven to me! Neighbors were close.

The hardest part was telling our translation team and friends in Kandi that we were moving. We shed so many tears with Isaac and Marie-Claire, and Pastor Jeremie and Fazi. This was not going to be easy! We had some wonderful memories with these dear ones---couples outings, Easter services, New Year's Eve and the evangelistic outreach to 10 Fulani villages in the region!

We were going to miss the fellowship at Tissarou church--the little Fulani/Baruba church that had become home for us.

Bembereke hospital sent a big truck to Kandi for our move and soon it was loaded and ready to leave the following day! We said our goodbyes, had a last meal with Pastor Isaac and his family.

A new chapter in our life was about to begin. Hopefully, we would see God's hand even clearer in the days to come as he lead and guided us through the maze of making Alicia our forever daughter! At this point we were still like a guardian to her, actually even less because we only had the father's signature on on a paper releasing her to our custody, but nothing official had yet been done.