Samoa Living // My People 🍀

Seven months in Samoa this week. (Eight including the month I first came and went back.)

Wow. It really doesn't feel like its been that many months. Feels like a few weeks rather. I can't believe this is a part of my story now, wherever I go - that I lived in Samoa for eight months! Feels like a dream. It's the longest that I've ever been away from home.

There's no way of fully telling all that God did in my heart these past few months. Its been crazily overwhelmingly gooood. in short though, i will say, its been a beautiful journey of healing and redemption in the deep places of my heart. 

It's been a place of witnessing God restore and rebuild broken things in my heart and my family that had been left dormant for a while. I have no right words. I know I say that a lot. But there really aren't words enough to fully describe these God things esp when compared to countless tear filled nights and prayer and fasting months to the point where we really have nothing left of us to give anymore. God came through.

Samoa will now always hold a special place in my heart. I didn't know I needed to come here until I did and my goodness. I will never be the same again. 

My favorite memories will be of the old lady Fokeki who cooks 'faalifu'  and never fails to call out, "Malo Dilo" with all her might when i pass by; 

or when Pi'i the baker says, one full sentence to me in Samoan knowing fully well I don't understand him and then laughing heartily to himself; 

or when Vesi, one of the trusted farmers gave us a ride on their 'piki apu' (pick up truck) after work one night and I felt like a little girl that saw the heavens for the first time. Watching the stars from the back of that truck that night with a little drizzle, was heavenly. 

I'll miss this people. My people. People who give their energies to make everyone else feel good and provided for while being seen as 'just a help.' 

I know I easily forget how much we rely on 'these' people on the daily and not give them enough credit for it. Like every time I eat that cooked taro I thank God for Fokeki's wrinkled hands, cooking taro to provide for her grandchildren. Every time I open a snack or a box at the shop, I whisper, wow God, someone packed this to provide for their family or to simply survive.

In a world where everyones busy updating stories on Facebook and Instagram, being with these people has me seeing my awful lack of being interested in the things that God's heart beats for. The little things; the kind gestures; the overlooked people who actually have way more important jobs than a Prime Minister - the cleaners, the bakers, the cookers, the servers, the maids, the housekeepers.. The people who without them, our economies are but big words with no value. 

Apart from God, these people, my people, help make life liveable (esp a twenty six year old far away from home loner like me) and loveable again.

I am forever wrecked by God's generosity in bringing me here. My life will never be the same again.