To the students at BCA

Dear students and lovelies at Bamako Christian Academy:

A year has passed since we said our hurried goodbyes. A long year that has included a lot of unknowns and changes. For most of you, you have begun a new life in a new place and the memories of BCA are beginning to seem distant. It’s a good place to be.

My dear students and friends, know this: our time together- although cut short- was not wasted. I saw growth in you- as my students and my youth groupers. I saw you understand more of more of who God is and why He calls us to strange places. I saw maturity in your friendships and genuine love between each other. I saw understanding. I saw compassion. And I saw fun- oh you guys know how to have fun (chicken, anyone??)

Now that you are in your new place- whether it is your passport country or a new “home” do not forget. Cherish the memories of the blazing hot sun and red-colored dust that creeped into all cervices. Cherish the friendships you established and the fun times you had together.

But dont let that hold you back.

Having had to move forward myself I know what it’s like to long to be back in the BKO. Now that I have stepped away I can see what a beautiful representation of the family of God was BCA. We came from all over- some willingingly and some not-so-much- and joined together to learn. Some days were great, and others were a struggle-let’s be honest, there’s no use in glamorizing the heat and dust. I miss you all, but know that we serve and worship a mighty God who is more at work than we can even understand.

Let’s take hope that there will be a time again where we will join together in heaven and worship our Lord- in English, French, Bambara, and the mix of it all.

Let’s take joy in the fact that modern technology allows us to snoop and spy from afar.

My last word to you: keep looking up. See where God has put you and rejoice that He is in control. Use your time in Mali to make the word bigger to those around you. Extend the love of the tight-knit BCA community to your new community.

He is not finished with you,

Mrs. Trussell (Sarah)

A day in the life of: Pre-kinder

Over the next few months I hope to highlight normal life here in Bogota. To start off, we are going to look through the eyes of a pre-kinder student.

On a normal school day I usually ride a van that picks me up in front of my house. There are lots of other students who ride my van with me, so we have a lot of fun.

When I get to school, I put my back pack next to the door and run outside to play until the bell rings.

Here is the elementary hallway- my class is at the end of the hall to the left.

I then go into my classroom and start my day. Usually Mrs. Trussell has a fun activity set out on the table for me to play with. Then we sit on the carpet and the student of the week helps with the calendar and weather. Most mornings it is sunny!

We get to go to special classes too- PE, music and library! After those we head to snack time and play outside!

After our recess we go back into the classroom and have math activities, Spanish class and some language activities. We learn about all sorts of things: bugs, the United States, and Easter just to name a few.

We go to lunch, the play outside again if it’s not raining. After lunch is nap time, then my favorite part of the day: free time in centers.

After centers are cleaned, I head back to my van and go home! Phew! I’m tired after a long day at school!

Memories of my Grandmother

I am sick at home for the second day this week, and although it is no fun to be coughing up a lung, it has been a good time of reflection and walking down memory lane. You see, on Tuesday this week, I learned that my grandmother (my dad’s mom) had passed away. I was at school, and thankfully able to slip out of class to call my parents. Since then I have been slowly processing the memories I have of her and what I always want to remember.

Her death was of no surprise to me. She was in her late 80’s and her health had been declining for years. I had said my goodbyes several times and knew that it was just a matter of time.

As I think upon my interactions with my grandmother, I cannot help but smile at her spirit. You see, she was the type of person who wanted things done a certain way and would not settle for anything less. Now her demands were not unreasonable, just more unusual. “I want a cheese sandwich and pickles for lunch!” or “Play the piano for me”. Most knew better than to argue, and it really was a privilege to bring her joy through the simple things.

Physical affection was important to my grandma. I come from a home that is loving, but not in the overly physical way. Whenever we went to visit my grandparents, my parents would give us a gentle reminder to let grandma hug us. Apparently as a small child, this was very difficult for me- being smothered by my grandma. As an adult, I can now understand her more and see that was her way of showing love.

My grandma loved nature! Going on a walk meant a leisurely stroll where we would examine every leaf and beautiful flower. As a young child this was torment for me- who walks fast even to this day- but as I look back I know that she was worshipping our creator and taking a part of his beauty. She would send me leaves she had pressed in the mail and no visit to grandma’s house was complete without watching the birds in her big backyard.

Just as she loved nature, she loved food. Meal times at grandma and grandpas were no small affair. The table was set with cloth napkins, silverware in it’s proper place, and every aspect of the meal was accounted for (my mom’s homemade jam included). But it was the preparation or the decoration that I remember most, it was the vocal delight on my grandma’s face as she savored each bite. Meals were not complete without exclamations of “mmm…. this is good!”

I cannot think of my grandma without thinking of my grandpa as well. They had been married more than 70 years, and are a wonderful example of how to love. I think God created grandpa with grandma in mind- for they complemented each other in all areas of life. I could see that through the years they had learned to understand each other and love each other for who they were.

There are many stories my grandma told me. Some I remember, some I don’t. One in particular stands out to me for no other reason than I think I heard it 30 times. Whenever my grandma visited, she would notice that my toe nails were painted. That usually triggered the memory of when she was a young mother she painted her toenails bright red. She also owned a turtle during this phase of life and the turtle would come and nibble on her bight-red toenails hoping they would be strawberries. Sadly not, poor turtle.

There is a legacy of faith in my family, that is as strong as ever when it comes to my grandma. She loved her savior. She loved to hear music that worshipped her savior. Church was a place where she would learn more about her savior. She had even dedicated many years of her life to the mission field in service to her savior. This week upon learning about her death, I couldn’t help but imagine her healed body running full speed into the arms of the savior- ready to worship, adore and love on her savior.

Next week I get to go back to the States and celebrate her life with family and friends. It will be difficult to see the loss, but at the same time a great way to honor her life.