As I clean up for the evening, I catch sight of the moon through our amazing kitchen window view . . . . It glows bright orange with a halo shining out into the surrounding clouds, tinged with pink. I have to go outside.
I grab my ipod and something warm and head out into the darkness that now feels safe and familiar to me. Locals walk without a “torch” and so do I, the moon is light enough, though I watch the path before me for snakes and impala.
I make my way down the path that leads past our mission workshop, past the huge canopy tree that “rains” for no apparent reason, up to the mission-built community center where I sit on the cement step and gaze at the wonder of the vast sky above. Bats flit in an out of the porch I sit on, nesting there, disturbing me from my upward-looking pose. Bat poop, yuk.
The day has been full, too long for me, but now kids are asleep, David resting at home recouping from several days of unpleasant intestinal illness, drinking and eating and trying to become himself again.
This morning I got the chance to sit once again with my group of bible study women and tell them a story. We are going through the major stories of the Bible chronologically now, as I realize how few of them are at all familiar with the most familiar of Bible stories. Today I told the story of Adam and Eve in the garden, believing the lie of the snake and falling from God’s grace.
Telling Bible stories to the uninitiated is pure pleasure and so eye opening. Those of us who have been privileged to hear these stories from childhood forget sometimes their drama and beauty. But I am vividly reminded of the awe of the story when I hear a gasp throughout the room as I describe Eve reaching out her hand to pluck the forbidden fruit. The group sighs together as we read the curses and they recognize the suffering in their own lives, so accurately prophesied in the Bible. And for me, suddenly, the Bible story comes much more deeply to life.