So, my adventure today:Because I look different here, because many people don't see folks like me 'round these here parts I get stared at a lot. I would love to say I am used to it. After 11 years you think one would be, but I am not. I don't mind it most of the time, especially when cute little kids are bug eyed. But today...today this friend of a friend stood in front of me as I was sitting in a chair. She must have been a bit younger than me. She was standing over me and I had to look up to see her. I did not want to seem rude so I smiled and tried to look up at her, though the sun was in my eyes. First, she spoke to me rapidly in Dagbani. I just kept saying, "I don't understand. I don't understand." Second, she asked me to take her to America and I said I do not live there but she said I should take her and instead of being all culturally appropriate and indirect I became Miss-All-American and boldly said, "No". Direct and indirect in this culture are a whole other blog. And third, she kept staring, like really staring, like checking me out-not in that way but, still in a way I was not comfortable with. I know I have bad skin. I know I have some hairs that should be plucked. I know I may have goop in the corner of my eye. I know my gray hairs are showing. I know my neck is tan but the rest of me is not and she kindly pointed that out to me. As I was pulling my hairs away from my face and lifted my arms she took my elbow and lifted my arm to look at my armpit. Please, don't ask. I don't know why. I felt like an animal about to be auctioned. Really, girl??? Really??? You want to see I haven't shaved my legs in awhile too??? I was so shocked as I let her drop my arm and I know for a few seconds I was just in a stare. Like, do you not see that I am a person just like you?Growing up in a community where 99% of the city looked the same I never thought about how someone different would feel. I remember I would randomly feel bad for the Amish students in our Junior high class but not enough to befriend them. What did they feel like when we stared at them or rolled our eyes at how they smelled? I don't know who I thought I was because I was a farm girl too and I know there had to be at least one day, if not many, that I wasn't smelling like roses.I had a nice upbringing but I wasn't always kind. I was outwardly nice to people and I like people but I didn't always have a heart for them. I wonder what parents do to help form this in their children? Eventually, the child has to make that decision for themselves and hopefully has good experiences along the way to form them to want to be that way. It wasn't until I really started studying the Bible that this happened to me. As I look back, much of my life was as a pharisee, a hypocrite and all that rolled up into a nice saran wrap ball. There is power in the Bible. Power to transform. I can't tell you how but it changed me. Still so far from perfect, but man, so much different than I used to be. I had nothing to do with it. Over and over I had to give things to the One who wrote the Bible, the One who breathed it and I still have to and yet, that giving up has brought me life. Serious, incredible, joy-thru-the-madness, life.I was telling Pastor Andrew and Jemima about "my adventure" and we were all laughing until we were crying. I am so glad I can laugh about it. I am so glad I can smile when I think about this girl. I hope I get to meet her again...if I do, maybe, I will look under her armpit.

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