As we all piled into the truck Friday, I enjoyed the feel of my hair being wet and clean at the same time. It wouldn’t be long before the wet became sweat and being clean would be those precious seconds between the completion of a creek bath and the start of a sweaty, muddy walk back to the house. Papa sat in the front with Brian, I sat in the back next to Ray, Mama sat with baby Hannah bouncing in her lap on the other side of Ray, and one of Papa’s many brothers sat in the bed of the truck with the cargo. We were going out to Yall village for the first time since arriving back in country. The bits of our family in the truck with us had come into town to buy supplies for a party the family was hosting on Saturday to welcome Ray home.

Ray dressed in a traditional grass skirt for her party!

Ray has three homes. Her primary home is with us in town. The flat is settled with our pictures on the walls and our clothes in the closets. It mostly smells like us too, barring the occasional waft of drying coconuts or processed tobacco (which is oddly similar to prune juice). She continues to love shopping and toddling around the office interrupting important happenings. Her other two homes are worlds apart. One is a combined home with her blood family in Texas and Delaware, where the houses of her grandparents are different but essentially equal. They are both temperature controlled, include running water, and provide consistent electricity. The cities they live in are full of busy people talking on smart phones. There are cars and fat dogs and general physical comfort. Ray’s home in Yall consists of a house made of bush materials that comes full of friendly critters and is not meant to be used much beyond providing shelter at night, shelter for cargo, and shelter in storms. The village is lively during the day and deathly quiet at night. She has to go on a walk to get to her bath and, once arrived, doesn’t appreciate being naked in the jungle standing on her tiptoes in a creek while people she trusts hurriedly splash cold water on her smelly hot body. But despite the glaring differences between all three homes, one thing is absolutely consistent: there are people in each that love her deeply and feel responsible for her growth.

I had a very bad attitude about spending this past weekend in the village. I’m comfortable in town and find that the older I get the less flexible I am about my living space. I like being in control of my surroundings, and going to the village entails a certain amount of unwelcome chaos. When we arrived, Ray immediately took to her family. They passed her from one person to another, making me a little nervous. As I watched Ray glide through the truck window into a sea of people, I knew I had finally arrived at the point where I must make the decision to either allow people to cart her off or to take a firm stand that she can never leave me. Fortunately, Mama made that decision for me. Ray was never carted off without Mama sending trusty Wilma to follow like a hound dog. “Lay Lay” is Wilma’s self-appointed responsibility and since Wilma viciously protects anything she deems under her care, I let Ray go. 



Wouldn’t you entrust your beloved child to this face?!?

The weekend was cut short due to the neverending struggle between Ray and sleep. She skipped napping the first day and had a fitful few hours of sleep during the night. She woke up at 1:15 in the morning and decided that was the perfect time to test the bamboo floors. She would shoot from one side of the mosquito net to the other, making the whole house shake. As the floor heaved and groaned under her small weight, she would pull up suddenly, stare at the floor, and laugh. Then she spent a period of time playacting that she was a battering ram. She would rear back and hit my stomach with the top of her head as hard as she could. More laughter. The rest of the night was spent vacillating between these bursts of incredible energy and standard meltdowns. Around 3:30, I fell apart.

The next day we found out that Papa sat outside of our house during those wee morning hours to keep watch over us. They were worried about her lack of sleep and we decided, along with them, to leave a day earlier than intended. We’ll try again in a couple weeks, and then again and again until she slowly adjusts to the village house. 

Mama trying hard to put Ray to sleep the PNG way… it didn’t work.

On the day we left, we first went to a nearby village to worship and visit yet another family member. As Ray was being carried gently on slippery jungle paths by her “uncle” I took a moment, or several really, to thank God. I spent much of my time nursing my bad attitude and being frustrated to the point of anger at God for not helping Ray sleep. I almost didn’t see the wonderful new relationships being formed and the new style of living that she clearly enjoyed so much that she didn’t want to sleep! The variety between each of her homes will help her understand the vastness of the world God created. Nights of peaceful sleep will come and times of chaos will come. I’m working to allow both to be a part of our lives, as all those moments serve to grow Ray into exactly the person God intends her to be.