Remembering sparrows

I watched the truck pull cautiously back into our drive loaded down with men, wood, and a hot but happy baby. I could just barely hear the girlish squeals coming from the backseat and see the swish of curls as her head whipped from one side to the other trying to figure out which man sitting next to her was more entertaining. The three of us were hot and exhausted, but this second road trip of the day was clearly worth it.

Successfully returning home with the materials!

We arrived home from our week in the highlands just hours before Brian left with Ray and the guys to pick up the wood at a village on the North Coast. We only ran into one issue during our trip home that morning: a bus had inconveniently lodged itself in a deep pothole on a one-lane bridge, effectively halting the flow of traffic. So we waited and it wasn't long before PNG ingenuity had the bus unplugged and we were on our way again. The sky was clear giving us a dry road and Ray was too busy pointing out trucks to cry for breaks. Stops were mercifully limited and after a mere four and a half bumpy hours (a trip that has taken us 11 hours before), we were home again and being reminded of what hot really means.

Just after the bus (on the right) broke free of the pothole.

While I was frantically trying to unpack, clean, and generally air out a house that had been closed up and collecting dust for more than a week, the men living in the dorms behind us asked Brian to drive them up the North Coast to a village where they could collect the thick beams now overflowing in the back of the truck. They needed the beams to build a haus win (small shelter) on the lawn between our house and the dorm, a building that was constructed several years ago to provide safe shelter for the men and women coming into town to work on translation and literacy in their own language. Some of them stay for weeks at a time for their work sessions, making it imperative that their space be culturally comfortable. In building the dorm, the branch thought through as many taboos and cultural rules as possible. We thought to put rooms on top and bottom so that women could always stay below. It would make both the men and the women highly uncomfortable to have women staying above men. We thought to put the bathhouse outside as a separate building because it's typical for the things of the bathroom to be away from the things of the house. We thought to create a cooking environment that was as easy to use as possible and appropriate for cooking large amounts of rice and root vegetables. We thought to put in a common area for their recreation and for an extra work area. We thought to start a Bible study on Wednesday nights to bring them together alongside of us in the study of God's word. We even thought to put up a volleyball net in their front lawn. But we didn't think about building a small, more traditional shelter that would allow them to sit outside and kisim win (enjoy what breeze does come).

So the branch provided the copper roof, the guys used their contacts to get bush materials, we used the truck to haul everything, and the haus win was built. It only took them a few evenings to put it together. Evenings where Ray stayed glued to her bedroom window cheering the guys on with rousing statements like "bah" and "do" and "ruck." We don't have a television here and certainly don't need one now that she can stand at her window and watch them; not sure the whole creepy baby stare is beneficial to their relaxation but she has fun. 

Look closely and you'll see Ray supervising (and probably yelling) from her room!

In PNG whenever something like this is completed it's appropriate to have a feast to dedicate it. Typically the papa bilong graun (property owner) provides the bulk of the food, so in this case the expats provided meat dishes while the PNG guys provided rice, veggies, and bananas. It was a strange mix between a traditional PNG bung kai (feast) and a traditional church potluck. We had everything from greens and yams cooked in coconut milk to chocolate chip cookies. 

The men decorated the haus win for the event and set up chairs in a semicircle in front of it. We strapped Ray into her little seat on one of the chairs and enjoyed an evening of swatting mosquitos, singing praise songs, and thanking God for the small things. Sometimes in the day to day worries we don't think God cares. But when I look out our kitchen window at the dorm and the haus win I can't help but recognize His hand equally in both. One cost thousands of dollars, the other cost next to nothing. One involved prayer, sweat, and many man hours on multiple continents, while I'm not sure anyone outside of our small group knew much about the other. One took months to build, the other took just hours. But regardless of the difference in what we put into each building, God saw both needs and saw both completed. Nothing is too small or insignificant for Him.

The completed haus win with the dorm just behind.