Shellie’s dad asked, after she told him we would be moving to Sudan. “Sudan? Sudan? Sudan?” he kept asking, thinking he hadn’t heard her correctly. “They kill people there. Women are beat and raped there… Why would you want to go there?”
Wooden church tables are heavy. I know, because one fell and broke my toe when I was three years old. This is Shellie, by the way.
“Mr. and Mrs. Maddox, we need for you to come to the school office, Zach got into a fight again during recess.” By the time I was finishing second grade, I had spent most of my first and second grade recess time in fights with others.
But we’re not going far…
It seems God doesn’t mind getting messy…
Several years ago, while living in Jerusalem, our evening was interrupted by the sound of sirens warning of incoming missiles from Gaza.
A few nights before that one, our anniversary date was cut short as we sat in the stairwell of a hotel in Tel Aviv, along with several Israeli’s, amidst the same glaring noise. Shortly after we decided to return home to be with our 3 kids in Jerusalem.