goats on the roof

driving up to north carolina from atlanta, we used to pass by a store selling local items called 'goats on the roof'.  we all loved it, especially the kids, because there really were goats on the the roof- and it was really funny.

in uganda it seems goats are everywhere, tied by their foot on the side of a road, or running freely in the street.  they eat everything and anything- and even though they are not usually on a roof- they are still very funny to me and i still point them out as we drive.  this baffles mike because of their abundance - but the kids are still interested.

a few weeks back i read an autobiography of a missionary doctor in africa.  in one chapter he discloses his obsession with ridding the hospital campus of its pesky wandering goats.  basically peoples goats would roam around and make there way to the hospital yard and patio and leave their goat droppings everywhere which isn't very sanitary.  this guy became so irritated that he bought an air pellet gun, which he carried with him on rounds, firing at a meandering buck from whatever window he was standing near. his goal was to frighten the goats away- but it didn't really work- the goats just avoided him.  people kind of thought he was crazy- he even accidently killed one which caused some trouble.  in retrospect, he can write about it and laugh.  but at the time, he needed those goats to be gone.  he needed to succeed at something.  he needed to have some control.

i get that.  that need that can result in an obsession over something as silly as goats, or refusing to let the public taxi cut in front of you because they are endangering the lives of all their passengers by passing you into oncoming traffic (even though the refusal is much more likely to put peoples lives in danger than cause behavior change). 

i so understand that feeling of, 'OH NO YOU DON"T!'  that crazy feeling in your chest- that george banks moment in the grocery store when he rips open the bag of hotdog buns and refuses to pay for the "extra's" (because the number of hotdogs per pack is 8 and there are 12 buns per pack- and he is just done).   those moments born out of experiencing a global loss of control.

once i was at the market and i saw a muzungu lady lose it.  she was looking for something and someone who worked there was trying to convince her to buy something similar because they didn't have exactly what she wanted. she had a moment.  a loud embarrassing unraveling moment.  an 'i'm so done with this place' moment. i remember thinking at first, 'wow lady! get a grip!' then feeling badly for her- knowing that it was probably her last straw- and i do know how that feels.

because here- life is just harder.  it's more frustrating. there are more things to lose it over.  the convenience factor is missing and it's been replaced by large stumbling blocks.  it's not that things aren't easy- it's that they are actually much more difficult.  whether it's grocery shopping or orchestrating someones diabetes medications or teaching appropriate healthcare- life for a westerner living in east africa- can be incredibly frustrating. 

so can living life with a nonverbal learning disorder.

something clicked today as i was reflecting on my morning in the car with zoe, while the rest of the family headed into church (which meets at the kids school).  she was having a moment over me helping her remove an umbrella that was stuck under the car seat.  she just couldn't get over my needing to help her.  it all sounded absurd to me-
"oh for pete's sake, it's an umbrella, it was stuck, who cares!" i was so tempted to say, but i didn't, i just sat there getting rained on and waited and tried hard not to worry.  but i was worried.  i was so scared that we've pushed her too far by putting her in school, that she'll slowly disintegrate, that tomorrow she'll refuse to go back, and i am powerless.

"mom, i'm just having a hard time today." she cried.

of course she is. it's not just a stuck umbrella- it's everything that is new for her right now and her constant sense of being out of control in life - that feeling of being swallowed by it. i understand. goats, hot dog buns, taxi drivers,  sales people, umbrella's- they are just recipients of our desire to have some control- because we are faced with such a loss of it.  we grapple.

"that's okay zoe.  i get it.  you're allowed, there is a lot going on." i mustered while silently praying: help! me, her. help us down here!

"i'm afraid that i can't do it.  that i'll go in and be mean and awful."  there it was out loud.  she fears her lack of control- her inability to control herself.

"i'll be with you- just come in and sit with me." was i pushing her too much? should i just stay with her in the car?

but i could hear the music playing and i wanted to go and sing my broken hallelujah. so. badly.
i began to sing.

"don't sing mom!"

"but zoe i need to sing, just like i need to pray, to get through these things- these sticky moments we all have, when we feel helpless and we hate it. i need to say help and i need to sing. lets go."

"if i go in, can i stay with the bunnies?"

"yes- good idea." 

so we walked in with our umbrellas, and our helplessness.  she headed for the rabbit pen and i headed for a seat in the back alone- thankful for the songs and the rain and a community of other people who also sing broken hallelujahs.

it's not going to be easy- anywhere for anyone.
but it is going to be worth it.  ♥