more.

Wow, we are floored to see people’s response.  Thank you, thank you, thank you for praying with us.

I wanted to take a minute to share more of the story: in photos, in little pieces I don’t want to forget.

The numbers on everyone’s arms were really hard to swallow. Some of them laughed, joking of their new names being these arbitrary numbers. Others came back and immediately scrubbed them off.

On Friday night, we had a community dinner. We purchased a 40 kilo bag of rice and sent everyone home with some to cook and return. This little guy below, Ne Nin Awh, even brought over his own little bowl of rice to contribute.

We chopped vegetables together and made a few big pots of ramen noodles.

Once everything was ready, we gathered to talk about what had gone on through the day and how sorry we were. We prayed for them, told them we loved them. We discussed options, even if there were only a few to discuss.

And then we all ate together, which will be pure chaos no matter how hard we try.

I snapped a picture of the back of the neighborhood as it was on Friday, including the sweet little girl curled up in the blue armchair.

And then they started to tear down. It’s been an awful thing to listen to for the past couple days.

Some have loaded up truck after truck to move to a different location. We started with building materials, so the men can begin rebuilding some homes while their things are stored in other, still-standing homes.

Some are moving into small, concrete rooms nearby until they can find a place to rebuild. They are tearing down their homes and storing the materials in our yard for now.

Stephen and I are primarily drivers. They let him help with unloading, but I usually only get a couple handfuls of stuff before they shoo me away to sit and wait with a cold drink.

It is hard work; the tearing down, loading and unloading, rebuilding. It is sad work. It is so sad to see the sorrows on their faces.

I don’t want to forget a few things. I don’t want to forget Yuh Yuh Meh Meh’s mom telling us the place she had chosen “because it was close to Stephen & Kelli.” So many of them have tried to stay close, and we have told them they can still come over and we will still come to visit.

I don’t want to forget Yuh Meh Oo’s face when Stephen & I told her we would be coming over to her house now and bringing cards to play. We acted out us going to her door, knocking, and asking her to play cards with us. Her laugh was beautiful.

I don’t want to forget the sweet kids sleeping on our floor. Some stayed for a night because they were scared after the long day; another group stayed last night because their house is now being rebuilt. The group last night was all girls, aged 8 and 16, and three around 20 years old. After we locked the door about 9:30pm, I showed them where the light was and said they could play until they were tired. The oldest sister grabbed for the magnetic dress-up dolls and they all gathered around to play.

I don’t want to forget when we were unloading wood, and a man off to the side made a comment about the white woman. I didn’t understand the Burmese, but I could tell it was about me and most likely an insult. I looked over at the man that made the comment, at which point he was scared I understood and shaded red. But I didn’t even have to defend myself: the three men unloading began to say things back in Burmese, clearly defending both Stephen & I. For as little of the conversation that I understood, I was honored. We are friends.

I don’t want the little folks sitting at the front door to end.

I want more Memory games, more helpers in the kitchen, more kids asking for water, more little cuts to put Band-Aids on. I want more time.

We are still not sure what God is doing. We are still praying.
Thanks for praying with us.