The Not-So-Jolly Green (Fleeced) Giant...Squirrel

I never realized how difficult it can be for two adults to politely share an umbrella. And I'm not  talking about twitterpated couples who welcome the opportunity of squeezing under the pocket-size variety. Quite on the contrary, I'm recalling the scene this past Monday afternoon as our business administrator/colleague, Esther, and I got caught in the rain on the way to a church denominational headquarters. Esther pulled out an umbrella and politely offered me space under its corner. I can't help but laugh as I try to envision what it looked like from across the street. An Ethiopian woman kindly sharing her pink umbrella with a not-so-Jolly Green (fleeced) Giant whose head was craned up under the nylon canopy. Sorry no photo for your enjoyment.

Arriving at the headquarters, I straightened my neck into its preferred position, adjusted my fleece and together Esther and I climbed the stairs to the first floor (did you catch that? The "first floor" here, and almost everywhere else in the world, is always the first floor ABOVE ground). Poking my head into the administrative office, we greeted a familiar face. "Do you have good news for us?" I asked, somewhat jokingly knowing that the four weeks of silence had meant only bad news. "No," she responded, "We have no progress to report on the annual renewal of your documents. In fact, I received word this morning that the person we need to see is out of the office all this week for trainings. There's really no hope of renewing it before it expires on April 1^st." Yikes, the reality of us having to leave the country in short order hit me square between the eyes.

An hour later, I arrived back at home and quickly relayed to Andrea all the new information Esther and I had learned. Somewhere in the midst of my head spinning with all the possibilities, my mind caught a relay from my stomach, "Feed me!" And so I began my usual afternoon search for quick and easy snacks. Fridge…no. Countertop fruit basket…no. Rubbermaid bin…yea! Like a missile honed in on its target, I snapped open the bin, grabbed a small cardboard box, and drew out one of God's greatest gifts to mankind – a pristine package of mint Oreo cookies! Without giving it any second thought, I ripped back the plastic and dove in. "You're opening those?!?" Andrea asked, questioning my judgment in choosing our most-treasured treat we had stored and protected for more months than I care to reveal; I know, it's worse than squirrels preparing for a bad winter! "Hey, if we're going to be in the States in a week or two…what's the point in saving them anymore?" She smiled, obviously overcome by my irrefutable logic, she herself partook in the afternoon deelish. "And," I thought to myself, "when I'm done smothering myself with these, I'm gonna move on to the malted-milk Easter eggs you brought back from the States last June!"

(update: Monday's news of "no hope remaining for renewal" has been revised, so that now, some level of hope has been restored! Pray with us for a grace-filled Monday, March 31^st.)