View from the Red Tin Roof

It’s October, that magical time of year that makes thousands flock from the planes to our town to hike rocky paths, see the snow-capped peaks nearby,  and drink steaming chai in cool fall air with the sun shining down. No monsoon rains, no frigid winter snows nor accompanying power cuts.  In these weeks we live in the most lovely place on earth.

And since there seems so much to complain about during other seasons, I thought I’d spend a post focused on the beautiful and captivating images that make this place home right now.

This morning I snuck stealthily out of bed as the sun rose and my three loves slept.  I made a quick cup of coffee with my yummy vanilla sugar (a friend taught me to stick a vanilla pod in the sugar can and let it flavor the sugar with the delicious taste of vanilla–thanks Nancy!), and I snuck to our lower apartment to watch the sun rise and spend time with my Heavenly Father.  As I watched the light and colors move across the room I was engulfed in gratefulness.

Grateful to reside in this quirky cottage with the red tin roof, perched on our town’s curvy steep walking path, with big windows that fill the chilly rooms with sunlight and striking views of the famous river snaking through the valley below.

My sweet neighbor K is in our home every day.  She has taught me to make chai with fresh ginger root grated in, and to make a pot every time a guest, our landlord or a worker walks in the door, and to serve it to them on a tray. She has also taught me that you can find beauty in growing and cutting fresh flowers, even when you have so little, and there is more to do than you could ever get to. In many ways, though she doesn’t know the Hope I do, she is an inspiration.
Lately our house has been surrounded by clans and clans of monkeys who are mating and having babies like crazy this time of year.  It makes them slightly dangerous and hostile at times… Read my tale of our monkey adventure yesterday…

This big guy sat outside Little Man’s window staring hungrily at us and seeming like he might break down the window to come inside for an entire day– 7 hours!

Thank you God for the chance to live in these stunning hills, to climb the steep paths and walk with those desperate for freedom from fear, freedom from oppression. We can feel it often, and this oppression disturbs our sleep– our children’s sleep– and creeps fear and striving and disunity into our hearts.

But when we turn our focus back to the One who calms the storm, He teaches us to not only step out of the boat, but to walk on water. To walk on fear, striving, disunity and oppression. To walk through cultural, linguistic, ideological barriers. To walk in faith
and obedience into homes where He has never been known.

And to reside in this house with the red tin roof as a house of PEACE and FREEDOM.