Beautifully Mundane

3/5/13

Ok so here’s the deal. I never thought I’d even be a blogging person at all. I never have thought that the things of my simple life were worth posting on the World Wide Web for anyone to read. My life felt normal and why would any normal person feel like they needed to share their life with everyone else. But then I decided I was going to move to Africa and that actually didn’t feel normal at all. That’s when I decided I would start one of those trendy tell-all pages known as blogs. It made sense. I was about to embark on this crazy African life where every day was going to be new and blog-worthy and it was going to be the easiest way for me to keep everyone updated who actually cared about what I was doing over here on this side of the world. Now, I’ll admit when I first got here I felt like every day was new and blog-worthy and I wanted everyone to know about how funny my life is these days. I wanted everyone to know about this vastly different culture I’ve been immersed in and the different things that happen on a daily basis. I was ambitious and thought I’d be an avid blogger. As you and I both know that ambition quickly turned to reality and I’ve failed as a blogger. When I had the chance to be home for 2 weeks in February I was scolded several times by various people (Ms. Elizabeth Blankenship was the most passionate) about the lack of posts that I’ve provided. I’d like to take this time to defend myself and report the reason why I’ve begun to slack is because once again my life feels normal. I don’t want this to come across as a negative thing. On the contrary, it’s a beautiful thing. I am so incredibly thankful for normalcy. It makes me realize that I am just living life here with and for the people.

So after putting so much emphasis on the fact that I feel normal here, I would like to share with you some of the “normal” parts of my life that I am so deeply thankful for…

I love the playful banter between my students and me. I love the way we argue every day about whether my name is Mandy or Monday and how they are NOT the same. And then when they giggle because they know the difference and they brought it up to see me get heated. I love the way Mohammed from my 5B class speaks to me in jibberish and when I speak it back he just nods and pretends like he understands what I’m saying. I loved the way Sebele gasped “Mandy!” the first time I saw her on the road after I was gone for 3 weeks and then she just giggled throughout our entire embrace. I love when Selam writes “You are 32 crazies” in her exercise book when I’m checking for homework and SHE HASN’T EVEN DONE HER HOMEWORK and then the look on her face when she discovers I’ve written her back saying “You are 108 crazies.” I love sitting at the flag pole during free time after 3^rd period and being surrounded by 5^th and 6^th graders and everyone else wondering why it’s even happening but those of us hanging out know it’s just because we’re friends. I love getting the chance to make animal noises in grade 6 because we’re learning about animals and why the heck not??? I love getting the opportunity to act as the school clinic and bandage the wounds of so many kids in the school. It’s always a sweet moment of trust and care. So there you have it folks a normal day in the life of Mandy Bolling.

As I reflect on the normalcy of life and how even the most mundane of instances can hold such beauty, I just can’t stop thinking about the fact that Jesus lived for THIRTY YEARS as a normal human being before he “started” his ministry (although we all know he was anything but normal). I imagine that he lived in a place that was really similar to where I live now and was just like the children I get the chance to know now. You know doing normal things like walking with his donkey and cart as they haul things to market once or twice a week, or making a trek to the river or well to lug huge containers of water back to his house so that his mother can cook and clean, or sleeping on a grass mat on the floor without a pillow that gets rolled away during the day because his bedroom is the same as the living room, kitchen, dining room, and study. Jesus’ 33 year long residency upon this Earth has made me realize how cool it is to get to live life with people. Just to walk through the scrapes and bruises these kids allow me to mend, to be with them as they let their imaginations run wild when they think we hold a secret language, to have on-going jokes the neither party gets tired of making, to eat meals together, to exchange stories, and to just know.

All I’m saying is that it would be cool enough for the God of the universe to humble himself for just the duration of his 3-year ministry, but how incredible is it that he lived here for 30 years prior to that?! That’s 8 years longer than I’ve even been alive! Could we ask for a better example for relational ministry? Here’s to hoping we allow the Holy Spirit to give us the courage to follow His lead!

Thank you for caring enough to read about what’s happening over here and then my rambling thoughts (maybe that’s why I never should’ve been a blogger in the first place.) May God bless you. For real.