Meet the Dogs

We are so delighted with our dogs! And generally they seem delighted with us; at least, they are delighted with the the twins, largely because the twins let them sleep on their comfy beds. Check out the pictures below, and then you can decide who is allowing whom to use the bed.

Charis and Ziva

Meet Ziva.
She is about two years old. We got her as a puppy not too long after thieves attacked at our home, in the hope that when she grew up, she would be a help to our home security. She wasn't very big when we left for furlough but she was very well cared for by our friends in our absence. Their teenage daughter loves animals almost as much as our Channah and she did a lot of training with Ziva during the time we were gone; we were so pleased with her obedience when we took her back. She did, however, cause some trouble with our friend's own dog as she got bigger. At times, they got into some pretty serious spats, which made us concerned that she might also be overly aggressive with our first dog once they were both together in our house again; thus, we were a bit reluctant to bring our first dog back home from RFIS where she was cared for by many during our stay in the U.S.

  

Channah with Dorea

Meet Dorea.
Her name means 'gift' because she was given to us as a gift after our previous dog died unexpectedly. She is a bit more than three years old and was timid as could be before we left her. Well, we left her at RFIS as a second watch dog, so she was loved and cared for by many employees, teachers and students; not only that, she was fed by many during school; she rather quickly learned to get over her fear of people so that she could hang around the lunch area and help the students finish their lunches! She's quite tolerant of our visitors now, especially when they are holding food. When the school year ended we decided we'd better try to put the two dogs together to see what would happen. Besides, Dorea was pretty fat after all of the care the students had given her and she needed a diet that did not include leftover school lunches.




Both the "girls" have been together in our house for more than a month now, and we are so happy that, so far, they are acting quite like the girls they love, getting along great but for the occasional enthusiastic roughhousing or sibling fighting. And we have so enjoyed having them both back in the house with us!

Please pray that they adjust well again as we move to our new home later this month.

The Houses We've Lived In

So, Charis, our curious little girl, asked one day, “Why do so many people in Cameroon live in unfinished houses?” Think about that while I tell you briefly about the houses we’ve lived in during the past six months or so. 

The Candy Cane House

We started in the Mission House at Liberty Church, affectionately named the Candy Cane House many years ago by Bradley and Josiah, because the first time we moved in (back in 1993), it had just been remodeled as a missions house; before that, it was used as a preschool classroom and still had a big candy cane painted on the outside wall right next to the front door. We first lived there back when there were only five of us in the family (though technically, we were only four when we first moved in, as Daniel was born while we were living there). It is a pleasant, welcoming house, a great blessing to us and many others, but a permanent home for none.

Our apartment at CTC

Next came Apartment 111, situated on the grounds of the Cameroonian Training Center (CTC). A safe place for kids and adults passing through Yaoundé for a brief period of time. For us, it was the landing place in January when we returned to Cameroon, our first new “home” here while we searched for a more permanent home for this season of our life in Cameroon. We stayed there for three months, feeling secure but enduring a lot of ambient noise since the Center also functions as a conference center and gathering place for many others.

The Hamrick House

The Hamrick House temporarily became our home in late March because we had to leave CTC to make room for another family coming in from the village. Quite a palace, this one. Multi-level, with four bedrooms, six bathrooms and way more space than we need (at least inside; there is practically no yard in the compound at all), it is a relatively safe place to stay, but for many reasons, not to our liking as a permanent place to live.

our new home (still under construction)

Home! Well, soon we hope to call this house our home. Situated about a four minute walk from the entrance to RFIS (where Kevin teaches and three of the children attend school), we love the quiet, peaceful setting and the price is affordable. We’ve had to add an additional bedroom to accommodate our numbers, but we are really pleased with God’s provision of this place. We hope to move in later this month, before school starts up again. Please pray that all the construction will be finished in time for us to do that!

All of this house hopping has really brought into focus for us, once again, that we Christians are not at home here – no matter how comfortable our house may seem, we are still living in enemy territory and won’t be home until the Lord calls us there at the end of this life.

Charis’ question… unfinished houses. The practical answer is easy. It’s warm here and so you don’t need nearly as much protection from the elements as you would in a less equatorial climate. Also, in this culture a common method of protecting the money that people have saved up is to “invest” it in a building project, even though they don’t have enough to finish the house. So they start building and finish what they can, leaving unfinished houses everywhere. Then, often a relative or family friend will occupy the unfinished home to protect it for the owner.

The people here aren’t nearly as attached to their houses as they are to the people in their lives or to the God they serve. We Westerners could learn from their attitude; this was a good reminder for us that it doesn’t matter how fancy or lavish or large a house is; it is the Lord of the house and the hearts of those that live there that make it into a home.