lydia

I can’t even catch my breath. Africa was the most exhilarating, scary, terrible, wonderful, happy, and devastating time of my life. I won’t tell you what happened (you’ll have to read the book I’m writing about it—Lydia Barnes and the Blood Diamond Treasure), but I will say that I have a beautiful diamond around my neck.

Daddy and I are in Amsterdam right now. We’ve been to the Anne Frank House (I loooooooove her!), the Van Gogh Museum (my favorite artist), and the Royal Palace; but honestly my favorite part of Holland was flying into the airport and seeing the canals from above—all beautifully laid out like streets. No, wait. My favorite part was seeing everyone biking everywhere—whether in a business suit or a sweat suit. They do everything on their bikes: talk on the phone, read a book, drink coffee.

We stayed here a day longer than we thought we would so that we could see everything, but we head out early tomorrow morning … to spend Christmas in Israel.

Yesterday was my birthday. I didn’t remember until my dad told me. (He says I’ll get my present when we get to Amsterdam in a couple weeks.) I turned 14, but for some reason it feels like no big deal. At home this day would have been the highlight of the year, but now it’s like … whatever.

Maybe it’s because I’m still so sad about Arway. She was my friend. I don’t even know what to say about it. It hurts too much to say anything.

Here’s a picture of her. Isn’t she beautiful?

Aaahhh! We all totally forgot it was thanksgiving yesterday! We had what we always have for dinner: fried chicken and cassava leaf soup. It sounds gross, but it’s actually quite good. And you should see these people make it! Wow! One of Ben’s neighbors came over to teach Mrs. VanderHook how to chop the leaves and I thought this woman would slice her fingers off for how fast she was moving her hand. I think she could throw bullets faster than a machine gun could shoot them. Sorry for the analogy. It’s just that there are so many soldiers with guns around here, I can’t get it off the brain. They’re here to protect the people. If they weren’t here the rebels would be using those weapons on us. All that to say, we might not have had a thanksgiving dinner, but I still know what I’m thankful for. Life.

We brought Cynthia to the airport today. (She’s my dad’s boss.)

We had to wait around forever and it was getting boring, but then a skinny Liberian man stepped out in front of all the benches and loudly cleared his throat. He was wearing a shiny top hat, goofy toy glasses, purple suspenders, and size 20 shoes. A clown. I couldn’t help staring at him, and he winked at me.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “what better diversion could there be during a long wait than entertainment?” His jokes were about as funny as a middle-school history teacher’s on a bad day (sorry Mr. Jenkins), but Ben and I howled anyway. A little heat stroke would make anyone delirious.

When the clown finished his performance and carried his hat around for donations, I was devastated to not have any more cash. Most unemployed people around here simply asked for money from others, but this guy wanted to earn his income, to give something back. I admire that. I ended up borrowing from Mrs. VanderHook so I could drop some bills in the clown’s hat. I was glad to see that others were also contributing.

“Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you.”
(Psalm 9:10)

This may sound crazy since I’m a missionary kid, but I don’t think I’ve ever really prayed before today. Have you? I mean, for real? I mean, knowing in your head that God is this great and amazing Creator and then telling him little things that even your best friend doesn’t know. It’s amazing!

Gotta run! So much going on! Love you! Love you!

Oh my gosh. So much has happened, I can’t possibly tell you everything. I’ll have to write a book about it.

Africa is amazing. We’re on the west coast, and all the lions and giraffes are a million miles away from here, but it’s still cool. Well, not cool—it’s actually stinking hot—but you know what I mean.

So, here’s what Ben’s house looks like. Imagine that you are a spider on the ceiling looking down—this is what you’d see. Of course, you’d need X-ray vision too. Which would make you a superhero, and you might as well just fly over here and see it for yourself then.

If I could draw a picture of Africa for you, I’d do that too—but I don’t think you’d be able to imagine it even if I were the greatest artist in the world (which clearly I’m not). Ask your mom or dad to take you on a missions trip here. It’s awesome!